After handing their horses off to the stable boy to be fed and watered, they made their way over to the dilapidated guesthouse. The off-kilter door creaked as they walked inside to find a cozy, albeit slightly crooked, room, almost as if the foundation had sunk on one side, causing the whole room to tilt.Five or six small tables with mismatched chairs and one very old-looking couch were scattered around, and at the far end was a decent-sized hearth with a roaring fire that was putting off more than enough heat to make the room comfortable. To their immediate left was a short bar with two stools, where a burly, middle-aged man was wiping down mugs with a stained cloth.
Only a handful of patrons filled the space, but Ena couldn’t tell if they were visitors, like her, or if they lived here. Three older men were playing cards in the corner, each with a cup of what looked like brown ale, and a couple, a man and a woman aged somewhere in their forties, were huddled together at a table eating bowls of something soup-like.
Placing his hand on the small of her back, Ty guided her towards a table near the back of the room. The sudden intimacy and gentleness of the gesture made Ena flinch, and Ty, clearly having noticed, rescinded his hand as if she’d burned him. But Ena took the hint and followed him and Turner over to an unoccupied table, while Steig went to the bar. She sat down in the old wooden chair that Ty pointedly pulled out for her next to where Turner sat, then watched as Ty went to converse casually with the bartender.
She couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably in her seat. She’d never been undercover before and didn’t quite know what to do with herself. Was she pretending to be with one of them? Was that why Ty had touched her like that? Should she make small talk with Turner? Luckily, Ty returned a few minutes later carrying two mugs of ale for her and Turner, giving her something to do other than fidget nervously.
Looking suspiciously at the thick brown beer, Ena cautiously took a sip. Looks were certainly deceiving because it was delicious. After not consuming anything but apples, a hunk of cheese, hard jerky, and water for the last two days, the beer filled her stomach wonderfully. She chugged half of it beforeconsciously making herself slow down. She needed to keep her wits.
While Steig remained sitting lonesome at the bar, Ty sat down with her and Turner, his own mug of ale untouched in front of him. Before Ena could fret over having to awkwardly make fake conversation with these daemons, the bartender approached them. He was balding on his head, most of his hair having migrated to his face, where his thick beard and mustache nearly covered his mouth.
He rubbed his hands together in front of his large, rounded stomach as he greeted them. “Welcome, welcome to Tritam, travelers,” he said jovially. “How is the ale treating you?”
“It’s wonderful, thank you,” Ty said, smiling widely and turning on the charm.
“We also have some soup if you’d be interested? I think it’s vegetable barley.”
“Thank you kindly, good sir, we would love some,” Ty replied.
“Of course, of course,” the man muttered, bumbling off through a doorway which must have led towards the kitchen. Ena watched Steig eye him as he left, clearly tracking the location of the kitchen.
Within a few minutes, the friendly bartender returned, carrying three small bowls of soup and a basket of bread in his large hands. This village clearly didn’t have much, but social conventions dictated that visitors be offered food, drink, and shelter for a reasonable length of time, without requiring a trade of equal value. This, of course, was predicated on the assumption that visitors were there to foster beneficial relationships which could be drawn upon for trade in the future, which they weren’t.
Ena gave the man a watery smile as she took the bowl of soup, her guilt eating at her yet again.
After placing the basket of bread in the center of the table, the bartender turned to Ty. “I hear you’re metalworks traders. Wedon’t get many of those around here. I’m sure Tomas, the head horseman, would be delighted to meet with you to discuss what we might offer you in exchange.” The man gestured at the table in the corner, where the three men were playing cards. “He’s the bald one in the hat just over there.”
“Excellent. Thank you kindly, good sir. I think I will go introduce myself.”
Ena nearly rolled her eyes at Ty’s over-the-top good manners. He rose to standing and patted the bartender on the shoulder in thanks before he strode off to talk with Tomas.
Turning her attention away from Ty, she focused on her soup—her hot, delicious-smelling soup. Eagerly raising her spoon to her mouth, she blew on it before taking a bite. Unlike the ale, the soup was…not good, to say the least. It was overly salted, with way too much barley and not enough vegetables. Next to her, Turner took a cautious bite and visibly gagged. Ena had to stifle a laugh at the pained expression on his face. He pushed his bowl away from him and reached for a piece of bread instead.
Ena continued to take a few more bites until Turner quietly asked her, “How can you stand to eat that stuff?”
Turning to look at him, she finally registered his face up close. He was definitely younger than Ty and Steig, but older than she’d originally thought. He was probably around her own age, but he had an innocent-looking face with soft features that made him appear younger. His blue eyes were large and prominent on his face, but up close now, she saw that there was an edge to them—a hardness which wasn’t all that surprising, given the way he’d callously burned down Heran’s house. His dirty-blond hair was slightly too long, too, and mussed in much the same way that Ty’s used to be when they first met, which also contributed to his child-like appearance. The recollection sent a pang of hurt through her, so she looked away and focused back on her soup.
“It’s rude to reject an offer of food as a visitor. Even if it tastes like shit, you should eat the entire bowl and wipe it clean with your bread or you’ll offend them,” she said.
Turner sighed and glared at his bowl, but he brought the spoon to his mouth again and continued eating. Maybe he just wanted to maintain their cover and not ruffle any feathers, but Ena was surprised he chose to do so, given he seemed unfazed that they were here to steal from these people.
Theoretically, she realized, she could simplify this whole operation—and bypass whatever plan Ty was enacting—if she were to use her Gift. All it would take was compelling the bartender to give them what they wanted, and to keep quiet about it. Of course, she’d never used her Gift before, but if what Heran had said about it was true…then maybe she could. But Heran had also told her to never use it unless given explicit permission, and even though shewasserving Gaia by trying to figure out what they were up to, she hadn’t been given that permission. Besides, there was already far too much of Iblis’s will at work here, and she did not want to lose control and unwittingly add to it, so she turned back to her food in resignation.
When she and Turner had eaten their bowls of soup and finished off the entire basket of bread, she turned back to her ale and nursed it slowly, taking in the room. Ty had joined in the card game with Tomas and the others and was busy making small talk with them. In between rounds, she saw him pull out the bejeweled dagger he’d brought in with him, likely lying through his teeth about all the metal objects he wanted to trade. By the time most of her ale was gone, Ty had the men laughing in stitches at a joke he’d told, and Ena couldn’t hold in the scoff that came out of her.
“It’s annoying, isn’t it?”
She whipped her head to Turner as he spoke, seeing that his own ale was drained now too. “What is?”
“How good he is at lying.”
Ena raised her eyebrow at him. Did he know how intimately aware of that fact she was? She didn’t think so, but either way, she was surprised that he would talk about his friend this way.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he continued. “It’s a necessary skill in our line of work. But man, what I wouldn’t give to be that smooth with it.”
“You’re not smooth with it?” Ena asked curiously.
Turner scoffed. “Please, with this face?” He gestured with one finger at his big, innocent-eyed face. “I can’t hide a damn thing.”
