“To new friends.” Vi lifted her mug as well, tapping it lightly against his. She brought it to her lips, taking a long sip. It drank somewhat like an ale, small bubbles tickling her tongue. But this was sweeter and had a bright, fruity quality—almost like an apple juice. Placing it back on the bar, Vi stared in wonder and said, with no acting required, “It’s… really good.”
Charlie gave a hearty chuckle. “Toris has a good brewmaster. He does creative things with palm fruits. Horse and Cask is one of my favorite bars to stop in when I’m sailing my route.”
“What’s your route?” Vi asked, hoping the query sounded casual.
“Oh, I go all over,” he answered coyly. “I’ve been from Risen to Toris and beyond.”
“So you’re a trader, then?”
“Of a sort.”Pirate. Definitely a pirate. “Do you have an interest in sailing?”
“I do, actually.” Vi smiled sweetly.
“You must… Growing up in a land-locked city, I imagine a girl like you would find the high seas thrilling.” He gave a nod to the scythe Vi had strapped to her back. “Though it looks like you may have been coming here to find work in a field. Too bad they’re all going barren.”
“I only told my father I was going to find work on a farm,” Vi said lightly and took a long sip of her drink. “I wouldn’t have traveled all the way from Monlan if I just wanted to farm.”
“Then what do you want?” He leaned in slightly.
“Adventure,” Vi said conspiratorially, leaning in as well. “You’re right, I do find the idea of traversing the ocean thrilling. But not half as thrilling as the men on those vessels.” She said it so effortlessly, so smoothly, that Vi even shocked herself. She was a far cry from the girl stumbling over her words at the Noru races.
His pupils dilated slightly—just as she’d seen Taavin’s do right before she was about to kiss him. Vi glanced down at his mouth, licking her lips for good measure. And then leaned away with a playful grin.
“I like the sound of that.” He gave her a smirk and was back to shuffling his deck. “So I know we discussed a game of cards, but let’s make it interesting, shall we?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“We could gamble for coin?” The way he said it told Vi he had no expectations of that actually happening. So she played right into those expectations.
“I’m afraid I don’t have much. It’d make for a boring game.” Vi made a show of thinking hard. “Say, if you’re a trader… your vessel must be nearby.”
“Anchored off the other side of the cliffs,” the fool announced proudly, further confirming all of Vi’s suspicions.
“Then how about this: if I win, you take me with you to wherever it is you’re going next?”
“And if I win?” The man asked with such obvious expectation. Vi hadn’t thought of that and she quickly rummaged her mind—but came up with nothing. Luckily, he had an idea for her. “How about you still come with me… but you’re not my guest. You’re my deck wench.”
“All right,” Vi agreed quickly. It didn’t matter what she bet. This was all going to end with him having a sword in his gut. “I’m feeling lucky.”
“Let’s hope you are, Marnie.”
Charlie shuffled and dealt. Vi’s eyes were focused on his motions, trying to catch the sleight-of-hand she knew was there. She was so intent on him that she didn’t even notice the man who had entered from around the back door behind the bar.
A hand covered the cards and Vi followed the forearm up to a shoulder, to the man who had a smirk smeared across his ruddy beard. Fallor leaned against the bar as though he owned the place; even the bartender gave him a wide berth.
“You don’t need to flip those,” he said. Vi narrowed her eyes slightly, not wanting to show for a moment that her hands were trembling. “I can already tell you, your luck has run out.” Then louder, to the other patrons, “The rest of you—out.”
As though issued a command from a lord, the rest of the bar came to its feet. There was some grumbling from particularly red-faced patrons in the back corner, but no one objected. Even the bartender calmly set down the glass he’d been polishing and left through the back door Fallor had entered from.
Fallor wasn’t supposed to be there. Vi’s heart was racing. He had been in his bird form almost exclusively according to Arwin, patrolling the edges of the Twilight Forest. They were supposed to have a chance to take out his lackeys before he even knew they were there. Or, at worst, catch him mid-fight.
They’d planned, and Fallor had been one step ahead.
“Now, last I saw you, you were traveling with the Voice himself. Where is he hiding?” A pulse of magic rushed over her, disorienting and powerful. Vi vaguely recognized it from the field that night—it was the same magic that had disrupted Taavin’s Lightspinning.
“I’ll never tell you.” If Taavin was still operating to plan, he was positioned somewhere in the square, hood up, as inconspicuous as possible, watching the entrance of the bar.
“No matter.” Fallor turned his eyes to her. “He’s not here now. Good. I wanted to speak with you alone.”
