“Aye, and what would I do sitting back there with only Orry for company?” Croak grimaced. “I’d go mad within a week.”
“Shut your hole,” Rydon growled, grabbing Croak by his cloak and dragging him along.
Terena put her hand to the door, then pressed her ear against it. Hearing nothing, she pulled back and lifted her hand to knock.
“Don’t do that!” Croak whispered loudly.
Ignoring her brother, Terena’s tentative knock barely reached her ears.
Yet she heard the soft snick of a lock disengaging. Glancing over her shoulder at Rydon, Terena stepped back, her hands settling on the hilts of her short swords.
The door opened a crack. Heart thudding against her ribcage, Terena waited, stiffening her frame. Seconds passed, but no one showed up on the other side as the door remained ajar. Twisting her lips, Terena puffed out a breath in annoyance and pushed open the door.
Pitch black enveloped her as she stood inside the entryway. She could not tell if the room was large or not, if there was another room beyond where she stood at all.
Rydon’s breath tickled her cheek as he leaned close. “What do you think?”
“Reminds me of another tavern you and I went to a few months back,” she muttered. Terena pulled her swords from their scabbards slowly so as not to make a sound. Gripping their leather-bound hilts, she hefted them as she took cautious steps deeper into the darkened interior.
A grunt followed by a whimper from behind them made Terena whip her head around, only to hear Croak cursing under his breath. Rydon cuffed him, slapping a hand over her brother’s mouth to stop another cry escaping his lips.
“You’ve come a long way for me,” a disembodied voice said from above.
Terena craned her neck. There was nothing to see in the void.
“Do you think it wise? Hunting someone with no wish to be found?”
Terena remained silent. Her feet whispered across the ground, putting distance between her and Rydon.
“Has he even told you why he seeks me?” the voice continued, now in front of them.
Terena heard a gasp behind her and turned. Rydon swore, his sword lifted as light flared around them.
Her face darkened as Croak was brought forward, eyes wide in his ashen face. A dark-skinned woman with light brown hair plaited over her shoulder had one arm banded around his stomach, the other lifted to where she held a dagger with a curved edge to his throat. A small gold loop winked at them from the woman’s eyebrow as she turned her lips to Croak’s temple.
“If you leave now, I won’t skin this little one. And you’ll tell your god I want no part in his plans.”
Rydon snarled and made to lunge at the woman, but Terena stayed him with an arm flung out to his chest.
Without breaking her stare, she said in a calm voice, “If you do not unhand my brother, now,Iwill skinyou.”
The woman’s lips stretched into a wide smile. “Aye. I believe you. So we can agree to leave each other alone?”
“I was told you asked for me.”
“By whom?”
“You asked for the Royal Tracker,” Terena replied in a clipped tone. Spreading her arms out, she grimaced. “Here I am.”
With that, the woman released Croak, who stumbled forward. Rydon grabbed hold of his jerkin and yanked him to his side, his sword still held aloft.
The woman kept her dark eyes trained on Terena, the smile still in place. “I’ll admit, I did not think Hermes would send his best.”
“I am not his best,” Terena ground out, her body vibrating with violence. “I am his equal.”
The woman blinked, and for a moment so brief it could’ve been a trick of the eye, Terena swore she saw confusion cross her sharp features. When she tossed her head back and laughed, Terena almost snapped.
“No, goddess, you are not.”
