“What do you know of m—of Sonah?”
Instead of replying, the woman stared at Terena for several long, uncomfortable seconds.
Terena took a step toward her.
“Peace, Terena,” the tracker said, raising her hand in a placating gesture. “It was merely an observation. She is still in Sparta, then?”
“What do you know?” Terena asked in a deadly, soft voice.
“Speak fast,” Rydon growled, his hand flexing as he adjusted his grip on his sword. “Or you’ll leave this place without your tongue.”
“Relax, Eudaemon,” she sighed. “I’m sure Sonah Yahn wishes to be reunited with her saviors as well. But we should find her before Hermes does.”
“What?” Terena exploded, taking a giant step toward the woman, so she stood less than two feet from her. “What do you know? Stop being so fucking cryptic!”
“I apologize, goddess,” the woman said as she bowed her head in supplication. “When you’re hunted all your life because you carry—” The tracker pursed her lips before she finished. “Well, you more than anyone would know what it’s like. You learn early to guard your tongue.”
“And still she says nothing,” Croak huffed, raising his hands to tug at his hair. “Clever, this one.”
“We need clever,” Terena said, eyeing the tracker with a calculating gaze.
“That role is already filled, sis,” Croak said. “Might I suggest?—”
Before he finished, the light snuffed out and they were once more shrouded in deepest black. Rydon cursed and heard Terena gasp beside him. Something whispered past him, a soft breeze fluttering across his cheek.
Mere seconds passed before a light glowed somewhere behind him and Rydon grimaced when he saw the tracker had once more moved to Croak, her left hand holding the back of his head and her right resting on his chin.
“There are many ways to be clever,” the woman crooned in Croak’s ear. The boy quaked in her arms.
Terena had her swords out, but the woman shoved Croak away with a soft chuckle. “Cleverness doesn’t only mean witty.”
Croak stumbled away as Terena scowled at the tracker. “Do you always play with your food?”
The woman winked. “Not always.”
“Was that you? With the darkness? Are you a god?”
The woman laughed. “I am no god. But aye, the dark was my doing.”
“How?”
“She’s a cypher,” Rydon snarled.
The woman inclined her head and narrowed her black-rimmed eyes. “Indeed. So,” she spread her arms. “Are we to banter all night, or may I buy you that drink now?”
Croak perked up despite the woman’s treatment. “Do you know of a place other than this shit hole?”
“Oh, my love,” the woman answered with a wicked gleam in her hazel eyes making Rydon tense. “This here is for the City Watch. It’s a performance. A trick. Come, I’ll show you the real tavern.”
Rydon traded a look with Terena, but Croak marched after the woman, clearly disregarding how she’d threatened him twice already.
Not for the first time, Rydon lamented the state of Croak’s priorities.
The tracker ledthem to a side door on the verge of collapse. When she held it for them, Terena paused. Croak had no such qualms as he immediately shifted sideways to squeeze through the opening. As soon as he disappeared, a faint glow illuminated the passageway.
Shrugging at their reluctance, the woman followed Croak, leaving Rydon and Terena to decide.
“We’re either going to our death or salvation,” Rydon muttered as he stalked toward the door.
