We mount the horses again and follow the narrow path through the woods. The inn appears soon after, nestled in a clearing. A stable boy takes our horses, and Ero leads the way inside. My gaze swipes across the room. These Reans are something else. All the Reans I’ve met so far carry themselves with an agility that makes humans look like toddlers who’ve just learned to walk, but the grace of these Reans is at another level entirely. There’s something predatory in the way they move—coiled, lethal, as if violence lives beneath their skin.
Ero tucks his staff into the crook of his arm, then makes his hands into fists and presses his knuckles together at the height of his heart, giving the innkeeper a bow. “One room for me and my granddaughter,” Ero says, “and a warm meal would be much appreciated.”
The innkeeper returns Ero’s gesture, but bows to me first, then to Ero. “Of course, Ealdorman. We are honored.”
Ero finds us a quiet table in the back, placing me with my back toward the room. The innkeeper brings us our food, and although I may not be too happy about the Kabarian way of dressing, the Kabarian food looks delicious. The innkeeper pours warm spiced wine from a pitcher into our mugs before garnishing it with a slice of citrus. It smells divine, and not having eaten anything since breakfast, I can’t help the way my stomach lets out a loud growl at the sight of the different dishes: plates of cheese, cured ham, olives, fresh bread, and several dips and spreads. Reaching for a piece of cheese, I notice how the lights reflect on steel as the innkeeper leans across the table to place a plate in front of Ero. Daggers.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” he says with a bow, then leaves us to it.
“He’s wearing daggers,” I whisper to Ero once the innkeeper is outside of earshot.
“I would be more surprised if he did not,” Ero says. “The Kabarian are some of the most renowned knife fighters in all of Rea. Only the L'azari—the Blade Maidens of E'ilden—rival them.”
I stare at him, chewing on a piece of ham. I better not show them I’m human, then.
“Kabarians pride themselves on how many daggers they have. They all receive one dagger on their twelfth moonday, and from there, they will challenge one another for more daggers every opportunitythey get.” He scratches his beard. “You do, however, need to accept the challenge, and they rarely challenge foreigners.”
My gaze glides over the many Reans in this room. “They’re all wearing daggers under their robes?”
“Indeed. Unless, of course, they are daggerless.But then again, I doubt they would be in here dining if they were.”
“Daggerless?”
“The daggerless occupy the lowest stratum of Kabarian society,” he says. “Mostly shadowborn.”
Good thing I have three daggers, then. “Are there any limits to how many daggers one can hold?”
“Thirteen.” He grabs a piece of cheese. “Now eat.” He stuffs the piece into his mouth, quickly followed by a piece of ham.
I study Ero across the table. “Why are you helping me?” I say once he’s done chewing. I have asked him this every day, but he has refused to answer.
His auburn eyes meet mine. “Why not?” He cocks his head the way he always does, as if genuinely curious about my answer.
I groan. “Everyone has motives,” I say. “What are yours?”
“I want you to live,” he says simply.
“With everyone else seemingly rooting for my death, that’s a pleasant surprise,” I say, unable to help the venom in my voice. “Thenwhydo you want me to live? What about the greater good of Rea? Isn’t my death supposed to save everyone?”
“Why did the wolf help you?”
I frown at him, thinking back to when I first met him in Tierra. “Because it recognized me?” At least, that was what he said back then.
“Yes.”
“That still doesn’t explain whyyouwant me to live.”
“Who says I do not recognize you as well?”
I lean back, arms folded across my chest. “Recognize me as what, exactly? And don’t you dare tell me,It is for me to know.”
“Itisfor you to know.” He continues to eat, unbothered by my frustration. “You should know I cannot know what is for you to know, but then again, you do not know much, so who am I to know?” He chuckles again at my deadpan expression, then empties his mug of spiced wine, and it’s all I can do to not stab him with my fork. If I weren’t so busy using it to stuff my mouth, I probably would.
“I can see you have become little wiser since last we met, so if you will ever know still remains a mystery.”
Ignoring him, I turn my attention back to my food. At least he’s helping me.
I bring an olive closer to my nose. Is it rotten? I open my mouth to ask Ero, then notice his clenched jaw and the tension in his shoulders. I turn to follow his gaze.
