Page 3 of Feral Guardian
“What’s this?” I ask.
A muscle in Trask’s jaw ripples. “I have family in Seter. These are my brothers.”
I grunt and pull back the hood of the man I have a hold of. He looks nothing like Trask. His hair is light, cheeks hollow, eyes gray and dead. A krysanthem user, for certain.
“Why is it that you’re exchanging coin with yourbrothers,” I ask, nodding to the small pouch of money clutched in my captive’s hand.
“My mother is sick and needs medicine,” Trask snaps. “It’s not your fucking business,tinhead.”
Maybe not. I need to get my mind aligned for my task: escorting Lily. What do I care if Trask is buying krysanthem to smoke on the way back? He wasn’t a help on the way here, either. I don’t need him.
A bead of sweat carves a path down Trask’s temple as he stares me down. Apparently, he really needs this hit. I didn’t take him for a user, just useless.
I remove my hands from my captive and take a step away. The man in front of me curses in Seterian. I can’t understand him through his high mumbling, but I know a curse when I hear one.
“The carriage is out back. We leave in thirty, so bid farewell to yourbrothers,” I say pointedly to Trask.
I will leave this fucker behind. In fact, I’d prefer it.
Trask waves me off. “See you out there, tinhead.”
I stomp from the musky tavern and find myself face to face with the masturbator. He’s still very actively going at it. His pupils are blown, lips dry and cracked. Fucking krysanthem.
I shoulder past him and stride around the building to the back. As promised, there’s a very shoddy-looking carriage waiting, and Sven isn’tthatdrunk.
The man hops down from his seat and meanders toward me. “Whatcha want?”
“This is my carriage for the next two days, and you’re driving,” I say.
He laughs, showing off too many missing teeth. “You putting me up?” he asks in broken common.
I reach into the pouch at my hip and remove the royal order to retrieve Princess Lilianna, then show it to the man. He closes one eye, then the other, leaning in and out as if to bring the page into focus.
“I can’t read it,” he says.
I doubt he could read anything in this state. “It’s the royal decree from the Queen of Fynren to retrieve her daughter and heir apparent, Lilianna Hilden, from the royal academy.”
“That’s a lot of words,” Sven slurs.
Maybe he is quite drunk.
Sven is small compared to me, so I pick him up around the waist. He yelps and flails until I set him down on the carriage driver’s seat. “Royal academy. You know where it is?”
He nods. “Yes.”
“You’ve been paid by Sasha Petrov, yes?”
He nods again but stops halfway, then shakes his head. “No.”
“Don’t lie to me,” I snarl and I can feel the power of the demon flaring in my eyes.
Sven stiffens. “Yes, he paid.”
“Good. I’ll be back in twenty minutes, then we’ll leave,” I say, turning back for the port. There are comforts my princess will want from the boat for the trip, despite the carriage ride being only half a day, and I’ll need Kor’Tar.
When I return to the boat, the queen’s men are lounging about on the top deck, sunning their skin despite the cool breeze. I stop before Trask’s second-in-command, Derek. He’s lying back on a stack of provisions covered in a linen tarp, his legs crossed and arms folded behind his head.
“The horses need to be saddled and ready in five minutes,” I say.
