By the time we ride into Gaulter, the heat and humidity have been weighing on us all day, and everyone is too tired to fight anymore. Tycho and Malin set out to secure lodging for the horses at the local livery, leaving me and Leo to walk to the nearest boarding house with Sephran. He hasn’t said much since he almost picked that fight on the road, but this is the first time they’ve been separated all day. Once Malin is out of earshot, it’s like Sephran visiblydeflates.
“Finally,” he says.
“You are so angry at him,” I say.
“Not just Mal.” He cuts a glance in my direction. “Both of them.”
Oh. I hadn’t really considered that. I frown.
“Mal and I were recruits together,” he says. “We came up together, reached lieutenant together—” He breaks off and sighs, then scrubs a hand through his hair. His cheeks are so red from the sun. “This is stupid. It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes,” I say. “It matter.”
“No. It doesn’t. Come on. Hopefully we can get some private rooms this time.” He jerks a hand toward Leo, who’s gazing down the road toward some serving girls who are sweeping the steps out in front of a bakery. When they notice his attention, they stop what they’re doing to blush and giggle.
He doesn’t seem to mind the attention, but Sephran whistles through his teeth and barks, “Leo!”
The younger soldier whips around, his expression aggrieved. The girls giggle again. Sephran softens his tone, but only a bit. “Let’s go.”
Gaulter is larger than the previous town, and we’re relieved to discover that the boarding housedoeshave single rooms available. Sephran slides coins across the counter and asks the clerk if extra firewood can be laid out. Then we head to the tavern to wait for Tycho and Malin. When we’re sitting in a corner, it’s like the remaining tension leaks out of Sephran’s frame. He all but wilts in his chair.
He runs a finger along the edge of the table as a barmaid heads in our direction. “I might need real ale tonight.”
“Me too,” I say, though I’m not sure if I mean that. But Sephran looks like he needs an ally.
Leo grins. “I’m in.”
When the barmaid brings the ale, it’s ice cold, and I’m startled since it’s so blisteringly hot outside. I gulp twice as much as I normally would.
She smiles at my reaction. “We hang the jugs down the well,” she says. “Can I bring you boys anything else?”
“Dinner,” says Sephran.
“We should wait,” I say to him. “For Mal and Tycho.”
His eyebrows flick skyward, and he takes a long swallow of ale. “Whatever.”
The barmaid startles at my voice, then looks at me more closely. “You . . . you’re from Syhl Shallow.”
“Yes.” I wince, realizing how thick my accent must sound to people who aren’t used to it. We’re closer to the border here, but I have no way of knowing if that means attitudes about my country are better or worse. So many people hated me in the palace that I wonder if I’m going to run into problems here, too. I try to enunciate. “I . . . sorry,” I say. “My Emberish is . . . not good. Not yet.”
“Oh! No, it’s fine.” She glances from me to Sephran and Leo and then back. Her smile turns furtive, and her voice drops. “I didn’t know Emberish soldiers were here for the meeting, too. I don’t speak Syssalah, but I’d heard— well.” She pats me on the shoulder and leans in a little, as if we’re all in on a secret. “When you’re ready, dinner will be on the house, gentlemen. You’re among friends.”
I blink, puzzled, but she’s already stepping away. For a moment, I can’t tell if my confusion is because I didn’t understand the words or if I don’t understand the situation.
When I look at Sephran and Leo, they’re both staring after her, equally nonplussed. “Help me,” I say to them softly. “I not understand.”
Sephran hesitates. For the first time all day, his expression isn’t twisted up with angst and fury, and instead his eyes are lit with a hint of curiosity. “I’m not sure I understand either. She said there’s a meeting.” When I frown at this word, Sephran gestures in a circle around the table. “Like . . .meet. People meet together. A meeting.”
“People from Syhl Shallow?” I guess. But then I frown. “Here? In Emberfall?”
“Maybe.” He glances after her again, then scans the rest of the patrons in the tavern. It’s still somewhat early, so the place isn’t crowded. When Sephran looks back at me, he sighs, and for an instant, bitterness returns to his expression. “But I think we’re going to need to wait to talk to the other two about this.”
We don’t have to wait long. Tycho and Malin come striding into the tavern while our steins are still half full. They both look tense and drawn, and for a brief moment, I’m reminded of the brittle tension that dogged me and Tycho for most of the journey. But his eyes shift my way and he smiles, and suddenly it’s like I imagined any tension at all.
The rest of the world might be hanging by a thread, but he and I aren’t at odds.
For now.
