Page 137 of A Vow of Wrath and Ruin

“Trinty, can a man get any rest these days?” He answered the door, half naked, running his hand through his thick green hair.

“No, apparently not. We need to go. Something has happened to Aelia.” Tharan burst through the door, throwing his friend a shirt.

“What? Hold on. What’s going on? What happened?” Hopper asked.

“I don’t know. I just have a feeling something terrible has happened to her.”

Hopper stood with his hands on his chiseled hips.

“So, you want to run out of here on a feeling?”

Tharan nodded.

“And to where exactly? The Alder Palace? Ruska?”

“I…” Tharan bit his pouty lower lip. “I don’t know exactly. Ruska, I guess.”

Hopper sighed, tapping his foot on the floor.

“Fine, get your things together. We’ll get them to open the portal to Ruska. Leave the wolves here.”

Tharan nodded and said, “I’ll get Sumac.

“She’s not going to be happy.”

“She’s been my best friend since I was six. She’ll be fine.”

Hopper made a face that saidit’s your funeral.

“Just get the portal open,” Tharan said, disappearing into the dark hallway.

“Anything for my king. Even in the middle of the night. When I am exhausted,” Hopper mumbled under his breath.

“I heard that!” Tharan called down the hall. He went to knock on Sumac’s door, but she opened it before he could land the first wrap.

“I heard everything you two said. These walls are paper-thin.” Her dark hair fell in a crisp bob to her collarbone, and her white tunic popped against her dark skin. “I took the liberty of getting ready.”

“You’re always one step ahead of me, Sumac.”

“As it should be.” Sumac donned her wool cloak. “Now, let’s go save your girl.”

They hurried out of the Hoppy Toadstool into the snowy streets of Dunhaven, where dawn had yet to rise.

“The portal house is this way.” Hopper ushered them to a tiny stone cottage with two red and white toadstools out front. “I woke the master, and the portal should be ready.” He turned the brass knob, and the door creaked open.

A swirling portal of green light awaited them. Next to it, a small halfling with curly gray hair and spectacles waited in his pajamas. Dark circles ringed his eyes.

“Thank you,” Tharan said.

The man nodded. “Anything for my king.”

Tharan slipped through the portal, followed by Sumac and Hopper.

The portal spat them out in the center of Ruska. The city still slumbered, but the first light of dawn was just beginning to crest over the horizon.

They hailed a petty cab outside the portal and sped through the quiet streets to the Alder Townhome. Tharan fiddled with his rings nervously, wishing the cab could go faster. The hairs on the back of his neck pricked.

“If you pulled me out of bed for nothing, you’re going to owe me one,” Hopper said as the carriage jostled him around.

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