With a glower, he crossed his arms. “Well,nowI’m offended.”
Chaz kicked him with the tip of his boot. “She’s right, big guy. You wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, Horace mumbled incoherently under his breath, his beard twitching with the movement as he got to his feet and lumbered away. Something that sounded like “more wine” drifted back to us, and the tension from before dissipated into laughter.
“Rose, come on!” Rissa said, waving a hand at her. “We need to find you something to wear.”
Rose pretended to look disgruntled as she heaved herself from the cushions, but I saw a smile flash on the corners of her lips. She looked back at me and the grin widened, her nose scrunching with hidden excitement, when Rissa took her hand and hauled her away.
“You’re beaming like a fool,” Chaz’s deep voice said from beside me.
Was I?
“She’s got to you,” he continued smugly. “I knew it.”
“Knew what?” Horace asked, rejoining us with a large, murky glass bottle in his hand.
I eyed the bottle. “Thatis not wine.”
Chaz ignored me and answered Horace. “Knew Leo was a goner for Rose.”
“Obviously.” Horace took a swig of the dark amber liquid. “Why do you think I asked you to keep an eye on her when I couldn’t?”
“You little matchmaker,” Chaz said with a chuckle.
I scowled. “You two are ridiculous.”
“That may be true.” Horace shrugged, handing me the bottle. “But are we wrong?”
Without responding, I took the drink and raised it to my lips, swallowing the bitter liquid. I choked as it slithered down my throat like thick acid. My face screwed in disgust. “Fates, Horace, that’s horrible.”
He took it back. “I know. Can only find this stuff here in the south sector.”
“What, is it too offensive for theirdelicate sensibilitiesup in the palace?” Chaz teased, swiping the bottle from Horace and taking a drink.
“You’d be surprised by the drinks they have up there,” Horace countered. “That stuff is a little more dangerous than strong liquor.”
Chaz scratched his beard. “There’s the green wine for a good time, and then the gray one, right? The wine that makes it impossible to lie.”
“Grimlock,” I confirmed, nodding. “It makes you more susceptible to telling the truth.”
“They’ve been trying to slip it to me the past few days,” Horace said absently.
Chaz and I both straightened, jokes forgotten. “What?” I snapped. “Grimlock?”
Horace closed his eyes and leaned back. “Caught the head of the Guard pouring some into my whiskey cup three nights ago. I created an Illusion to make him think I drank it, but threw it out the first chanceI had.”
“Why would they do that?” Chaz asked. “Are they trying to interrogate you?”
“The Sentinels are making waves, even among the Guard. I think they’re suspicious of me. Heard talk of meetings being called in secret, but myself and a couple others haven’t been invited to most of them.” Horace took another drink, his monotone voice hiding any emotion behind his report. “Was relieved of some of my duties yesterday and today. No reason, no notice. It might all be coincidence, but I wonder if they’re planning something.” His jaw clenched ever so slightly beneath his full beard. He was trying to conceal any worries he had about this latest development, but I could tell it bothered him.
“As in, planning something against us?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” Horace paused and practically drained the bottle on his next gulp. He was acting strange. More distant and aloof, even for him. “I’m trying to find out what I can, but there’s only so much I can do if they’re starting not to trust me.”
Grabbing the bottle from him, I set it onto the table in front of us. “Horace, we know you’re doing everything you can. But we want you to be smart. Stay safe. If you need to lie low for a little while and cut ties with us until they trust you again, we understand.”
He nodded curtly, his shoulders dropping a fraction. “Figured you’d say that.”
