Page 44 of Insolence
“Promise me, Elodie. Say it.”
The unmitigatednerveof her, trapping me in this. Setting me up to fail. Setting me up to out every last secret I have.
Anger heats my blood all over again.Goddess, I really do need a drink.
“Oi! That you, priestess?” Kael’s gruff voice halts me when I step out of the cottage’s shadow. “Or should I say, your holiness?” He stoops into a comical bow, sweeping the knit cap off his wiry black hair.
“Blacksmith,” I nod. “And how are the master of the forge and his lackey tonight?”
He and Autry glance at each other, good-natured laughter erupting between them. Something relaxes incrementally inside of me.Maybe this won’t be such a pain in the ass after all.Not yet, at least.
“Was thinking we were due for one of your visits. Wasn’t I just saying?” Kael jabs an elbow at his young apprentice.
Autry nods, already moving toward the circular table with its three worn chairs near the bathhouse’s western wall. I cross the cozy alcove formed by the jagged wall of mountain flanked by cottage on one side and bathhouse on the other.
“Thought you lot could use a drink.” Pulling the stoppered glass bottle from my cloak, I hitch up my trousers, drop into the closest chair, and sigh.
It’s always warm here by the forge. Even after working hours, the still-smoldering coals chase away the worst of winter’s biting cold. My chronically low blood pressure is grateful.
“Which meansyoucould use a drink,” chuckles Autry in the cocksure way of a twenty-year-old. But he’s not wrong.
I raise the bottle by its neck. Copper light from the embers bends through the colorless liquid. Both men guffaw when they see it’s not the usual swill.
“That what I think it is?” Kael settles into the third chair, dark eyes glued to the liquor. Like Autry, he smells of woodsmoke, molten metal, and sweat.
A mixture of odors I’ve come to associate with fleeting comfort and a degree of safety. Especially on nights like this, when I far prefer pants to skirts.
“Yep. Cook’s special pear brandy.” I grit my teeth with the strain of flipping the tension gasket stoppering the bottle’s opening. It releases with a satisfyingpop. The blacksmith and his apprentice watch raptly while I take a sip, filling my mouth with glorious liquid fire.
My nonexistent blood pressure laughs at me. Likely planning to drop me the next time I get up.
“What’s the occasion?” Autry asks.
Belly burning pleasantly, I pass the bottle. “Found where she hides it in the larder.” Putting one hand to the side of my mouth, I stage whisper, “Behind the vinegar stores.”
Kael laughs again, taking a dainty sip.
“Don’t disappoint me now,” I chide. “We can’t leave evidence. You better drink up, old man.”
“Ah. Well. My head won’t thank me tomorrow.” But he guzzles more anyway. “Gods, that’s smooth, ain’t it?” He drags a broad hand across his mouth.
“Cook really outdid herself this year,” I agree. “So how are the missus and kids doing? Got word recently?”
“Oh, the usual.” He passes the bottle.
“Mmm.” Autry takes a drink, throat bobbing. He hisses appreciatively, licking his lips. “Say, that is nice.”
“How much longer you got on your contract, Kael?” I accept the bottle back.
Lifting it to my lips again, I’m careful to partially plug the opening with the tip of my tongue. Seeing as my surroundings are already going fuzzy after my first drink, I need to at leasttryremaining relatively clear-headed if I’m going to accomplish anything tonight.
Kael grimaces. “You ask me every so often.”
“Short memory,” I wink and tap the side of my head.
Autry giggles at my amnesia joke. I offer him a grin.
“I’m on year five of seven,” Kael sighs.
