Page 22 of To No End

“Your foolish outrage doesn’t change a thing,” she chided. “Gaia Wood enchantments are extremely rare and powerful. Whoever bound it did so intentionally to ensure its secrecy. I’m not about to go meddling—nor should you. Whatever you’re fighting, accept it.”

I pushed back from the table, rising to my feet defiantly. “I hope the price for this babble isn’t absurd.”

Aster clenched her teeth and began to look irritated—very, very irritated, and somehow her tiny size meant nothing as fear began to pulse through me.

“You insolent brat. You wanted to know if you have a future, and not only did I show you that you did, but I conveyed it’s one of importance, of secrecy, and yet you continue this ungrateful tantrum.”

I folded my arms across my chest, trying to ignore the bitter truth. I’m almost certain all of this secrecy and importance had everything to do with the king’s Offering, which I already knew, and didn’t get me any closer to the details I needed.

I did my best to keep replaying the words she said in my head, memorizing them so that I could mull through them later in peace and quiet.

“My apologies, Asterius. You’re right,” I replied curtly. “How much do I owe you?”

She began to walk me toward the door, and just as I stepped outside the threshold of the cottage, she stood there smiling atme slyly. “You owe me nothing. You’re about to lose everything, anyway.”

Before I could even respond, she closed the door in my face. I practically stomped my way back to Rain, who was still waiting at the fence nibbling on clover. I mounted and took one last glance at the dilapidated shack. I could see Asterius in the window, staring back at me with an ominous grin, and my stomach roiled.

This whole morning was a complete waste. I wasn’t any closer to answers and, in fact, now I was stuck with a senseless riddle that only concerned me more. I wanted a drink; Gods, Ineededa drink.

Rain and I continued north in search of a pub where I could drown my sorrows and ignore the fact that I had been accused of being a brat!

CHAPTER

8

We traveled deeper into the forest until I’d lost track of how far we’d come or how long we’d been gone. The daylight shifted across the sky, indicating many hours had passed. I satiated the growling in my stomach by stopping occasionally to snack on the items I’d brought with me, feeding what remained of an apple to Rain.

Finally, we found a clearing, and in it I could see a tavern inn marked by small stone walls surrounding it. As we made our way closer, I noticed they had a stable where Rain could rest safely. I didn’t remember the last time I had ridden him this hard and for this long of a distance, but I think he was grateful for the freedom and adventure.

After getting him settled, I made my way to the threshold of the door noting the sign labeledDoorlae Tavern & Inn. The ceiling was lower than I’d expected and everything felt tightly cramped together. The main room smelled like stale beer, and my boots clung to the sticky floor with each step I took.

All around me were every manner of gruff-looking Fae minding their own business. I tried to blend in, but it was impossible. I had to have been the softest, most delicate thing the place had seen in some time. I held my chin up confidently and made my way to the bar.

A very tall and broad-shouldered bartender approached from behind the counter. He had a bald head, an extremely uncommon look given how most Fae fancied their locks. He also donned a dark brown mustache, with the ends curled up on each side.

“What’s the lady having? That is, if you’re sure you’re in the right place.”

His wide smile showed off all his teeth along with one silver-capped tooth, and I didn’t know if his tone was meant to be friendly or judgmental.

I tried to sound like I had ordered a drink from a bar before, but in truth, I hadn’t. I’d drunk before, but never in a setting like this one. Usually wine at parties, and never to the point of being drunk or out of control.

“What do the locals recommend?” I parried, feigning confidence.

He gave me an amused look, eying the options over his shoulder. “The locals drink mead, but if you’ve got deeper pockets, I propose the braggot.”

Maybe this was a trick to see if I had money. It’s possible I was walking into the trap of being robbed, but I figured why not splurge, especially since I had every intention of drinking my share of this place.

“A braggot will do. Please bring it to me over there.” I pointed at a nearby booth in the corner.

He let out a deep-chested laugh. “This isn’t that kind of place, m’lady. Give me a second and I’ll have your drink.”

I smiled nervously back at him, knowing I had made some sort of mistake implying that someone should bring me anything. Within a minute he showed back up with a giant foaming mug of ale, the spillage drenching his already sticky hand. I tried not to scrunch my nose at the powerful scent as I grabbed the drink, threw him a few coins, and made my way to the corner booth I intended to claim.

I sipped the ale slowly and thanked the Gods I’d spent the extra money; I could only imagine how terrible the cheaper ale must be if this was the expensive stuff.

For the first hour or so, I made my way through two mugs while I people-watched and assessed my surroundings. The sun was slowly setting outside and the place grew dimmer, orange hues from the sunset peeking in from the various windows. I knew that with darkness the tavern would only get rowdier, but with each sip of ale, the numbing warmth I had been seeking replaced the swirl of emotions I’d battled for days. Guilt, longing, sadness, confusion, and anger. With every swig, I felt those tiny agonies lessen.

When the bar was at its busiest, I finally got brave enough to ask some fellow to join me in a game of cards, to which he snarkily replied that he only played for stakes. And since, along with getting drunk, gambling till I won was also on my to-do list, I welcomed it, even though I knew I was terrible at cards, and that being intoxicated certainly wasn’t going to help my cause.

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