“I’m Arabeth, by the way,” said the girl beside me. “Most people call me Ary.” She pronounced it likeairy, which certainly suited her effervescent personality. “What’s yours?”
“Marigold,” I replied automatically, before I had the chance to pause and think if I should give her the namePearlinstead, just as I had Laitha. Or even the nameCatelinethat Radven had suggested. “Some of my friends call me Goldie.”
“Goldie. I like that.” She spooned a giant helping of egg on top of her piece of crusty toast. Now that she’d taken off her cloak, I could see that, unlike most of the women around here, she wore a pair of simple brown pants and a rather billowy shirt that hung open at the neck. Beneath her collar, bluish-purple ink stretched in an intricate pattern across her collarbone and up the sides of her throat.
Past her, at the end of the table, Octavian had taken a chair next to Talon. His azure eyes met mine, and I could see the question there. He was concerned for my comfort and wellbeing, even now, and I nodded to assure him that I was all right. He gave me the briefest of smiles before turning back to his friend, who was encouraging Octavian to pile his plate high. Other men and women from the room started to gather around Octavian’s chair, clearly fascinated by this new arrival. More of the birds had flown down from the ceiling, too, perching on chairs or on Talon.
On Talon’s other side sat a slender man who was leaning back in his chair with his booted feet propped up on the table. His casual pose reminded me a little of Radven…but the scowl on his face was all Alastor. He looked to be about the same age as the men beside him, with shoulder-length red hair hanging loose around his shoulders and an angular, clean-shaven jaw. There was a dusting of ginger freckles across his pale cheeks, as well as his nose—which had been broken at least twice, judging by its shape. He wasn’t what most people would have considered handsome, but there was something compelling about him all the same—aside from his glower, at least.
At the moment, that glower appeared to be reserved specifically for Octavian. Did that mean not all of Talon’s friends were happy to see us? Was this man a threat? One of the birds landed on the table in front of him, gave a pert little chirp, then flitted back to sit on Talon’s forearm.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Ary asked beside me.
I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten about the food. I dove into my plate, keeping one eye on Octavian and the crowd at that end of the table and attempting to overhear their conversation. Meanwhile, Ary launched into an interrogation of her own.
“How long have you been traveling with the Lion Warrior?” she asked me.
“Who?” I responded around a mouthful of salted meat.
“What do you mean,who? Oak.” She inclined her head in his direction.
“I’ve just never heard him called that before.”
“So you’ve been traveling with him without having any idea of who he is?” She shook her head, amused. “You had to havesomeidea, though, right? Every song describes him the same way—big as a mountain, tall as a tree, the strongest of men that you ever did see…” She trailed off when it was clear I had no idea what she was talking about. “Not far from here, in the Yellow Oak Leaf tunnel, there’s a mural of him slaying the Basilisk Queen of Rhodari—haven’t you seen it? He looks exactly the same. That’s how I recognized him.”
“This is my first time in Ring-Around-the-Hill,” I reminded her with a shrug before shoving a bunch of egg in my mouth. It seemed like the safest answer, since I wasn’t sure how much of the truth Octavian intended to tell these people. But I was curious, and Ary was willing to talk, so I decided to take a chance. I swallowed quickly and asked, “So he’s some sort of legendary hero around here?”
“Not just around here—in all of Therador.” Her big eyes were openly studying me. “The legends about him have only multiplied in the time he’s been missing. Where have you been living that you haven’t heard of the Mighty Oak?”
“Somewhere far away,” I replied with another shrug. “What do these legends say?”
“Oh, you know—they just tell the stories of all his greatest triumphs. The slaying of the Basilisk Queen is always a favorite around here, but I’m partial to the tale of his quest for the Seven Shadows. Or the time he challenged the demon chimera.”
“He did all those things?”
“And about a hundred others.”
I stole a glance in Octavian’s direction. So all this time he’d essentially been this world’s Hercules? That explained quite a bit, actually.
“How long did you say you’ve been traveling with him?” Ary asked.
“Not long,” I replied, deliberately vague.
“Is he a good lover?”
“What?” My eyes snapped back to her.
“He’s very handsome,” Ary replied. “I’ve always been curious about what it would be like to be with a man so much bigger and stronger than me.”
“We’re not lovers,” I blurted, face flushing. I’d justmetthis girl, andthiswas the conversation she wanted to have?
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Um, I think I’d know,” I said, ears blazing. I quickly shoveled a big bite of smoked sausage into my mouth.
“Hmm. Usually I’m better about guessing these things,” she said. “There’s an energy, you see, when people are lovers. Even when they think they’re being discrete.” She leaned closer, dropping her voice so that no one at the other end of the table could hear, even if they'd been inclined to divert their attention away from Octavian. “Take Talon—he and Ivo have been lovers for nearly two months now, though neither of them have admitted it to anyone else yet.”
“Ivo?”
