Page 121 of The Demon's Discovery
“Excuses,” he grumbled, but he was laughing. “Your friend doesn’t come to see me anymore either,” he shook his head. “But unfortunately, not because he went back to work.” His smile slipped. “Get you fellas something?”
“We can’t stay, I’m afraid. But we were hoping you could help us.” Seir produced a gold coin I didn’t recognize.
The man accepted it with a gleam in his eye. “If I can, you know I will.” He waved us over to the far end of the bar, hushing his tone so we could have as much privacy as possible.
“This is my brother. His lady was brought through a portal earlier, we need to find her.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. A portal you say?”
“I came through the pines to the south, but I’m not sure where they landed.”
“She was taken by a man with red hair and green eyes. He’s got a laugh like dull knives,” I said.
The barman stilled, his face going through several subtle shifts until he finally said, “Then she’ll likely be at the palace. There’s a bit of a to-do going on there, you should know. People been passing through all day on the main road.Hispeople. There aren’t many, mind, but plenty with some power behind them.” He looked around shiftily, being sure nobody was paying us any attention. “We all comply with the false king because we prefer to be breathing, but that doesn’t mean we agree with him.”
“I understand. And I thank you, friend. Can you tell us how to get there? I never visited, myself.”
The barman directed us down the road, but not before getting a promise out of Seir to come visit again someday soon. We collected the rest of our party and took to wing, the sense of urgency driving against my nerves as we flew through the strangely thick air, our destination appearing through the trees as a massive wood-and-stone palace.
The closer we came to the structure, the more violently my heart pounded within my chest. “She’s here,” I said, gripping at my vest with my hand, nearly doubled over in the dying grass. We’d landed at the back of the palace where the edge of the forest met sadly neglected gardens.
“There’s good news,” Seir muttered. “Awfully quiet for somewhere holding an event today. I don’t even hear any horses.”
“Do we just… sneak in through the kitchen?” Calla asked.
“There’s no telling what’s in there, though,” Rylan argued, rubbing at his chin.
I rubbed at my ring, hoping that Greta’s close proximity would give a more precise location. It flared warmly but provided no direction.
As we examined the building, discussing our best tactics, a man rushed out of the trees at the opposite end of the building. Each of us took our fight stance out of reflex, swords drawn and magic at the ready. He slowed, hands dropping to the blades at his belt before rising in a defensive motion as he closed the distance between us.
It took me the barest moment to recognize him as he got closer, thanks to the scar across his face. “You.” His head turned a fraction my direction, his focus pulled from Magnus.
“Me?” he queried.
“We need to get into this place. Are you here to stop us?”
He shook his head slowly. “No, my goal is the same.” His stance softened, and he dropped his hands to his sides.
At that moment, a familiar raven flapped around the corner, a knocking sound in his throat. “Bird,” I said, unreasonably pleased to see the feathery menace.
He croaked, pacing along a set of windows, turning his good eye into the frosty glass. He tapped at the sill, looking back at us to see if we were getting his message.
“She’s in there?” I inquired.
Belmont took off, landing on Ris’s shoulder. “Can you get inside on your own, Belmont?” The bird knocked, head swiveling. “Alright, if the way is blocked, you can always followus.” He gave the raven a quick stroke down the beak, and he took off again disappearing around the corner of the palace.
Magnus stepped forward, a scowl on his face. “What is your name?”
The man straightened, a brief look of happiness on his face before he stuck one of his hands out. “Hello, Magnus. I regret meeting you for the first time this way. Rowan—” He shook his head, realizing that might not be the right tack. “I’m Ris Sylvanus. I am king of this place. Though”—his brows pinched—“I’ve been away for a long time.” He frowned at Seir. “You?”
Seir slapped his hands against his thighs, startling us all. “I thought I recognized you! Though that dashing scar is a new addition, yes? Not to mention about a hundred-and-fifty-years’ worth of aging. You were maybe a little smaller, the last time I was here?” He strode forward, arms out and pulled the stunned Ris into a hug, complete with enthusiastic back pats. “Good to see you. How’s your dad? Pol says Van never visits anymore.”
“Pol?”
“Yes, Pol!” Seir nodded enthusiastically. “The barman at the Empty Cask?”
“Of course. Father’s been gone some time now. He chose to go into the Tombs of the Elders after I took the crown. Said it was time he joined my mother.”
