Page 6 of A Reign of Roses
Len only leaned forward. His cracked lips spread with a curious grin. “What do you want with the old Crow anyway?”
The fire popped beside me and the snoring man bathed in shadow rolled to his side. I sighed like an ox. “Is it even him up there?”
Len sniffed, the wrinkles on his face creasing with ease, as if he did that all too often. A chronic dripping nose from chronic winter. “It’s him, all right. He’s come down once or twice. Bought seeds for his garden.”
“Does anyone in Vorst speak to him? Is there any way to send word?”
Len shook his head.
“Not even for—”
“The king of Onyx?”
I choked on a piece of lard-laden crust.
“People talk,” Len said, leaning back. “Even in towns as small as these. Your land’s been missing a king for the last two months. And not so many men can turn into dragons. Only two, by my last count.”
Suspicion ground my jaw shut. “What do you know of my father?”
Len made a face. “This whole kingdom is made up of scholars. He’s a Faerie, right?”
I said nothing, back rigid, narrow fork mangled in my grasp.
“Why’d you abandon your kingdom?” Len plucked the knife from beside me and twirled it across his crooked fingers. “Are you not at war?”
The rage that spiraled through me nearly blew out my fists and into the thin man. He was only spared by the equal rage directed back at myself—the truth in his words, all my mistakes, being forced to travel here and leave them all behind.
“I didn’t abandon them,” I growled. “My men are preparing for battle. I’m here to retrieve something we need in order to win.”
“And what’s that?”
Len’s curiosity had graduated from mildly irritating to deserving of a fork through the throat.
“C’mon,” he pried. “Who am I going to tell? The rodents?”
I took a breath. “The man I seek to destroy can only be killed by a certain type of Fae. I need the White Crow to make me…able to beat him.” I said the next words very slowly, as to infiltrate Len’s feeble mind. “Can you help me reach the sorcerer?”
Len’s eyes softened, and for a moment, I thought he might actually answer me. “Why now? When you’ve been at war for years?”
I stabbed my warped fork into the soft center of the pie, ignoring him. Two more mouthfuls and I’d head back up—
“If you answer me, I might be able to help you contact the wizard. I have lived beneath him for sixty years.”
I didn’t want to talk about her with this toad. I didn’t want to talk about her with anyone.
Len’s eyes held my glare like he hadn’t a fear in the world. If I left now, I’d never know if a single ounce of kindness to this man might have made all the difference. It’s what she would have encouraged me to do.
“We had someone else who could kill the man,” I finally said. “Someone very dear to me. She died.”
Len nodded slowly, as if my coldness to him finally made sense. “My condolences, boy. I recently lost a woman I cared for myself. Hadn’t seen her in many years.” Len sniffed again. “Still hurts.”
The unmistakable scuttle of rats’ claws tinkered against the low roof and drew a grunt from the man still sleeping under the rot-holed bench beside us.
Len leaned back again, even closer to the hearth. “What would you give to bring her back?”
Anything.
I only finished my ale.
