“Uh, well, you said rooms. But, for all intensive purposes, I just got us the one room. It cost less, and I just figured we’d want to stay close, so that once your crow returns, we could leave as quickly as possible—what? Why are you smiling?”
My lopsided grin twitches higher. For a moment, I consider telling him he’s confused his words yet again, but I find it too amusing to risk making him correct the habit.
“Nothing,” I say with a breathy laugh. “Just lead the way.”
14
Better Left Forgotten
Acari
My cheeks burn red when I push the door open and find that the patrons inside are still staring at the main entrance. I swing a hand over my head to scratch my neck and wave awkwardly with the other. “Hello again. Looks like I’ll be staying here after all.”
“Blessed by the Divine Lorik himself,” the innkeeper says, something between feral hunger and excited wonderment burgeoning in her eyes. She stands from her table to greet me and makes it two full steps before staggering still, her expression collapsing.
The screeching sound of a chair grinding against the wood floor causes me to wince, and a man grunts from behind the innkeeper. “Unless this is official business, she’s not welcome here.”
The innkeeper nods, backing away from me as the Reaper steps beside me.
From the corner of my eye, I see Sinisa smile. But it’s not the polite kind of smile a guest greets a host with. It’s the kind of smile that reminds me of a poisonous flower, something that looks so beautiful but is utterly deadly.
“Oh, I’m here for business,” she says.
My hands fly up when the color drains from their faces. “She doesn’t mean like that. We’re on a quest, of sorts. She’s not here to kill anyone. We just need a room to stay for a few hours until her crow returns with information from Veltuur about where we can find my sister.”
Everyone in the group blinks at me like I’ve just grown a second head, and then a third. I can’t say I blame them. The statement that just came out of my mouth isn’t something I ever thought I’d say. I’m working alongside a Reaper.
After silence lingers between our two groups for a moment, the man standing—the one who I’m suddenly realizing is as thick-skinned and bulky as a magrok—strides over to us in two steps. He towers above us both so high that he has to crane his neck to look down at us. I quake so thoroughly that the table beside me practically starts rocking. Sinisa, on the other hand, doesn’t even budge. She stands her ground, one hand on her hip, completely immersed in his shadow.
“If you’re not here to kill someone, then you need to leave before there’s trouble.”
I make for the door without further protest. No accommodation is worth a quarrel with a man built like a Ghamayan Mountain and a Reaper.
But as I twist around, I see the black tendrils of magic curling just beneath Sinisa’s fingertips.
“Sinisa,” I say cautiously, unsure where I find the confidence to say anything. “Please don’t—”
But she either doesn’t hear me, or like everyone else in my life, she has already perfected the art of ignoring me. “Come any closer and we’ll see what kind of trouble there is.”
Pinching the brim of my nose, I spin back around. When I look past the mountain of flesh in front of me, red and angry, I find the innkeeper clutching her bosom, staring at us in horror.
“Look,” I say, trying to channel every lesson I ever received on debating with foreign dignitaries. “We don’t want any trouble, despite what she says. We just need a room while we wait. You won’t even know we’re here, and we’ll be gone by sunset. Please.”
I lean into the word like I’m reaching out to Sinisa as she’s dangling over a cliff. Take my hand. Help me, help you.
“Fine. One night.”
Before the innkeeper can change her mind, or before her brutish friend can decide to take matters into his own hands, I motion Sinisa to the hallway behind us where we find our room.
If I thought I’d find comfort from being behind the closed door, I am sadly mistaken. Trapped inside a locked room with a Reaper manages to have the opposite effect. Instantly, I am on edge. I don’t know where to walk, whether I should sit on the bed or stand, how to cross my arms—or if they should be kept relaxed at my sides. Mostly though, I don’t know how I’m going to pass the time while we wait for news from her crow.
Sinisa takes soft, timid steps around the room, taking everything in. Her gaze falls to the hearth, then floats to the bed, the candlestick beside it, and finally to the window. She contains her astonishment, if only barely, and I can’t help but wonder what has her so impressed. Everything in here is made out of wood—and none of impressive quality. There’s dust on the hearth, and the table in the center of the room shakes with each footstep.
“I’ve never stayed in an inn before,” she breathes almost inaudibly. But when she notices me staring, her expression hardens. “You should rest for the journey ahead. The bed is yours.”
“I—uh…” I find myself intrigued by her awe, but aware of her bristling, I don’t want to pry. “Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll be doing much sleeping.”
Almost on cue, a shiny, black spider creeps from the bedpost to the corner of the room. I bump into the door with a thud. Yep, definitely won’t be sleeping tonight. Not with that thing sharing a room with us.
“Why not?” she asks.
Maybe I’m already used to her lack of manners and improper socializing etiquette, or maybe I’m just exhausted, but I’m not
