Page 79 of Path of the Dark
A soft melody drifted through the common room then. A lyrist had appeared and set himself up in one corner. Moments later the young man began singing: a ballad about a lonely merchant who was doomed never to find love.
Ryana didn’t question Elias further. Instead, she focused on the music. Without realizing it, she started to tap her foot along to the song.
“I take it, you know this one?” Elias observed.
Ryana abruptly stopped tapping her foot.
“I find northern songs gloomy,” he continued when she didn’t answer.
Ryana pursed her mouth. “How so?”
“They’re all about loneliness and loss.”
“Not all of them are.”
“Give me an Anthor drinking song any day.”
Ryana snorted, letting him know what she thought of such songs. “Why am I not surprised?”
Silence fell between them for a few moments, before Elias spoke once more. “You should be … you hardly know me.”
Stiffening, Ryana met his eye. “Aye … you’re right about that.”
Elias frowned, and she thought he might contradict her, but instead he turned the conversation back to their plans. “Who’s stronger in a fight—you or Gael?”
Ryana’s pulse quickened. “He’s stronger,” she admitted, glancing away.
“You’re going to have to catch him unawares then.”
Ryana nodded. She thought about telling Elias that Gael had managed to sense her presence in The Caverns of the Lost a year earlier, but dismissed it. She didn’t feel like sharing such concerns with him; she’d figure out how to approach Gael by herself. She didn’t need this man’s help.
And yet, even seated across the table from Elias, she felt the familiar pull toward him. She was acutely aware of him, of his nearness.
Her continued attraction to him angered her.
Ryana took one more gulp of ale and pushed the tankard aside. “I’m tired,” she announced, sliding out of the booth. “I’m going upstairs.”
Ryana rolled over, huffing as she tried to get comfortable. There wasn’t much space on the pallet, for she’d erected a barricade of pillows down the center of the mattress. The last couple of nights, she’d ended up squashed against the wall.
However, it was preferable to being pressed up against Elias.
It was getting late, although she could still hear raucous, drunken laughter drifting up from the common room. A woman’s irate voice punctuated the laughter. The inn-keeper’s wife was telling someone off.
Ryana allowed herself a tight smile. She hoped it was Elias.
The creak of floorboards outside the door made her smile freeze. Elias was returning to their room.
She hated this part of the evening. She’d retire early and pretend to be sleeping when he entered. She’d keep up the pretense, forcing her breathing to slow, until she was sure he was asleep. Only then did she relax.
Light from the lantern hanging on the wall on the landing flowed into the room, followed by Elias’s heavy tread. The door closed gently, and he moved across the floor.
Facing the wall, Ryana squeezed her eyes shut.
She tried not to think of him undressing. On the first night at the leaguefort, she’d made a point of insisting he slept with some of his clothes on. She hadn’t cared that he’d laughed, only that he did as she asked. She hoped he still was.
The mattress dipped as Elias lowered himself onto it. Ryana clenched her jaw, clinging onto the far side of the bed. She wanted to sleep as far from him as possible.
Elias shifted around for a few moments, before he got comfortable—and then the bed-chamber went silent.
