Page 102 of Bloodguard

Where the tavern was dim and smoky, here everything is pristine and white, and I feel as out of place as a donkey in a palace.

“What are we doing here?” I ask as we’re led by a very tall female elf toward a table beside the front window.

“Drinking tea.”

We sit. Caelen orders. Tea is served.

I guess he isn’t going to bring up what transpired in the tavern, but my suspicions are already confirmed. The night Maeve lanced the wounds on my legs, that ungodly roar, the weight and menacing voice of the shifter that constrained me…it was him.

“So, there’s a warm and fuzzy side to you,” I say. “What are you? Some super-sized bunny shifter?”

Caelen’s offended expression makes me snicker, then laugh outright. The sound is rusty, but even his lips twitch at this brief moment of levity. And he doesn’t deny it.

I realize why I feel good. Because for the first time in a very long time, I have hope. Getting my family out of Siertos means they’ll have a chance at a better life. Even if I don’t survive to make Bloodguard, they’ll be supported.

I can imagine them in a small house near the manor, helping Jakeb and his staff and being cared for by Neela and Maeve. My sisters will swim in the lake and pick flowers in the fields.

“Something to eat, sir?” The human serving our table addresses me, but her gaze stays on Caelen as if he’s someone important.

“No, thank you,” I mumble. Little cakes don’t call to me like the scents of the stewed meat and tangy ale the tavern had. I can’t help looking at the door.

Caelen follows my gaze. “We can go back if you want, but I’d prefer to scout the place from here. We’ll draw less attention this way.”

“We wouldn’t have drawnanyattention if you hadn’t started to shift and lifted a troll over your head.”

He takes a beat, then makes a face that saysfair enough, man. And then I’m smiling for the second time today. Maeve would be over the moon.

“Imeant,” Caelen clarifies, “we’ll stand out less among the other military officials here.”

He has a point. Though the colors are different—purple and white—there are uniformed members of Tunder’s guard here, along with what look to be merchants and members of the Middling class.

This may not be Arrow…but there are many similarities.

We sip tea and stare out the window at the sun setting over the walls. A muscle starts to tick in Caelen’s jaw. “She should have found us by now,” he says, worry casting a dull glow along his copper skin. “She knows we can’t afford to be here for long.”

Bells toll. The loud ringing makes my blood hammer through my veins and my heart beat fast. It’s the feeling I get before I step into the arena.

Caelen stands abruptly.

“What’s happening?”

Outside the tea shop, guards sweep the streets. They bear the colors of Tunder—andArrow.

“Damn. I’d hoped we’d gone unnoticed.” Caelen drops a handful of coins on the table. “Time to go.”

The bells continue ringing as we rush to reclaim our horses.

“We need to find Giselle and get out. Now.”

“And if we don’t?” I ask.

“We will,” Caelen insists. “We must.”

I mount Star and follow him. The streets are too busy to hurry the horses, a fact that both mounts resent. We stand out on their tall backs, and where the colors of Arrow gained us entrance to the city, I worry that now those colors make us a target.

And still those damn bells ring. “What do they mean?”

Caelen’s expression is grim. “They’re closing the gates. Early.”

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