Page 134 of Cursed Shadows 5

I hope it is the tavern itself that draws the folk in; that they are lured by Eamon’s dream come to fruition.

And I hope he knows this.

The door rattles behind me.

Locked, it shudders in the frame as someone outside tries the handles. They give up after a moment, but not before Lief has shouted out:

“We are closed!”

I shoot him a look, my brows raised.

He blinks on me before he adds, “Come back at the First Wind!”

I nod, small.

But the door rattles again, this time with a knock, firm, shuddering the wood.

I huff and pull away from the bar.

My collection of polished glasses is abandoned as I march for the trembling door,knock, knock, knock.

Each step closer, my irritation swells that bit more until it is a flurry of ice in my chest.

I stalk past the windows, curtains parted and so I see the sudden fluttering of light out in the street.

Predictable as ever, Forranach looks at the window and watches the disturbance of the ravens flying and dipping and air-diving into the heart of Kithe.

This is their flightpath from Dorcha, over Cheapside, and they will land in the town’s centre where the depot messengers wait.

The ravens are from the returning units.

For weeks, each phase, they come in bursts. Sometimes dozens from a single unit, invading Kithe with messages of return.

Only one of those messages has been delivered to us. It came direct to the tavern after trying Forranach’s dwelling blocks away, but he wasn’t home. The messengers knew of our tavern and so brought it here.

The notice of return from Rune.

It arrived just two phases ago with the assurance of his survival, his safety, his return—and mentioned he should be back in Kithe shortly.

Since then, Forranach has paused for each burst of ravens into the town.

He has not yet received Niamh’s letter of return.

The wedded pair are separated, I have learned, but that love he has for her is as obvious as his missing leg. It holds his attention to the ravens as they disturb the light beyond the window—and he hopes for the return of the healer serving a unit in war.

My mouth tilts on his sorrowed hope as I pass him.

Lief doesn’t spare the flapping lights a moment’s glance; he just keeps polishing, and I have the fleeting thought to purchase him a ladder—if only for my own nerves.

I turn my cheek on the window, the ravens sweeping into town, and grab at the door’s latch.

No ravens have come for me, not from anyone, and I don’t know exactly what that means. I don’t know if Daxeel is still out there, delayed in the human realm, or dead. Dare, too.

Samick… well, he wouldn’t send a message to me, not on his deathbed, not even on mine.

I turn the latch and feel the clack hit through the door before I swing it open.

I look out onto the street, to the patron who can’t stop knocking, but it takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the dimmer light outside.

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