Makeup? Costumes? Yes, this could work.
I passed the table of young men with a nod and clomped my way to the bar, where a couple of females had stopped working to stare at us. A man sat with his back to us, but he didn’t turn to look our way.
“Did you see the axe?” someone whispered as I passed. “It looks so real.”
“Convention?” the barkeep asked.
“What?”
She smiled shyly and raked me over. “The costumes, is there a convention nearby?”
“Yes?”
She chuckled. “You don’t sound too sure.” She canted her head. “You from the northside? Not seen you in these parts before. I would have remembered someone who looked like you.”
The side of my face felt warm as if I was being stared at. I looked to my left, locked gazes with the human at the bar, and glared at him. Now, my glares usually had grown men pissing their pants, or at least picking up their tankards and moving on, but this human, he stared right back.
Helgi coughed to get my attention and I dismissed the human male in favor of the barkeep, who’d shifted her attention to Helgi.
“Wow, I love the teeth.” She leaned over the bar to get a better look. “They look so real.”
I couldn’t allow these humans to look too closely. I needed information, and I needed it from someone who was intoxicated enough to gab but not ask questions.
“You have ale?”
The barkeep straightened, tearing her attention from Helgi’s mouth. “Sure, what kind?”
What kind? Fucking hell. They had different kinds of ale? “Any will do. We’ll take three.”
“You want to open a tab?”
I had no idea what that was, but, “Yes.”
She gave me an amused look. “You’re good. Real good. Staying in character and all that. Very barbarian.” She filled glass tankards and placed them on the bar. “Enjoy.”
We grabbed the drinks and I led the way to the nearest empty table shoved up against a wall. We’d take a load off and scan the place, pick our target, and then get to work.
We’d barely sat down when the man from the bar joined us, sliding into the spot opposite me and next to Bran.
Bran growled in annoyance, snapping his teeth at the human, but the man didn’t flinch. Instead he smiled. A full-blown I-am-so-fucking-happy-to-see-you smile.
He was insane. He had to be.
“She sent you, didn’t she?” he said.
I exchanged looks with Bran.
“Who are you talking about?” Helgi asked.
The man shook his head, as if tired of our games, even though I wasn’t aware we were playing any.
“I know what you are,” he whispered, gaze darting about the room as if he was afraid he’d be overheard.
My scalp prickled.
“I know she sent you,” he continued. “Eamon promised this day would come and it has. You’re here and she sent you.” He beamed at me. “The dragon queen sent you to save us.”
Chapter Sixteen
We followed the man through the perfect little streets, away from the busy part of town filled with entertainment venues and late-night market stalls, and into a more residential area. The journey would have been quicker, but we were forced to duck under awnings or into alleys when sentinels passed. These fuckers were the only indication that this world we’d stepped into was still part of our real world. That the Draco were still out there, controlling everything.
The man, Stephen, led us onto a sparsely lit street and then ducked up the path to one of the houses.
“Quick,” he said. “Before the neighbors see. They don’t know. They aren’t a part of the truth.”
The truth, whatever that was, was linked to the dragon queen, who this guy seemed to believe was alive. And this Eamon person was some kind of movement leader.
He was the one we needed to speak to. Hopefully he wasn’t completely delusional. Hopefully he’d be able to help us make sense of what the fuck was going on here.
Stephen opened the door to the house and hurried in.
Helgi grabbed my forearm as I made to follow. “Are you sure about this?”
I snorted. “No. But what else do we have to go on?”
Helgi unclipped the radio from her waist. “Let me check in.”
She depressed the button. Nothing happened. She tried again and again. Nothing, just dead air.
Stephen popped his head out the door and his gaze fell on the walkie. “Oh, that won’t work here. Only approved stations, I’m afraid.” He grinned. “Unless you’re Eamon. Come.”
We followed him into his home—a cozy, colorful, slightly cluttered space—through a narrow hallway, which we had to navigate single file, and into a brightly lit kitchen.
“You live alone?” Helgi asked.
“Oh no,” he said. “My Flora would be here, but she’s at headquarters right now. Big day it is. You came on a big day. You’re lucky I was on eyes and ears duty at the tavern.”
“Headquarters?” Bran asked.
He stopped to stare at Bran and then smiled and shook his head. “I can’t believe it. I truly can’t. Eamon will be psyched. Come on.” He pulled open a door and led us into a basement filled with more clutter. “Over here, see.”
He yanked on a unit pushed up against the wall to reveal another door that fit so snugly into the wall it would be missed by anyone not looking for it.
He tapped the door and pushed. It swung open and he stepped through. The space beyond was barely big enough for Bran to stand in, but it was merely an entranceway, because there was another door, this one guarded by a tech panel.
Stephen leaned in to show the panel his eye, and then with a click and a whirr the door unlocked, opening into a tunnel.
Stephen grabbed something off the wall and then the tunnel was lit up by the beam of a flashlight.
“Oh, this is so exciting,” he said. “Follow me.”
More fucking tunnels. Thank goodness I wasn’t claustrophobic.
* * *
This was an underground network with roadblocks at every turn—panels that required passwords in the form of thumbprints and eye scans—and then we
