Vade pulled her closer, her heart quickening from the warmth of his proximity.
Balor’s eyes went to Bute, and he picked up the jar before Orelia could protest. The man tilted his head as he surveyed the frog, his large hands nearly covering the entirety of the glass.
All Orelia knew was she wanted him to put Bute down immediately. Her breath caught as she waited for Balor to smash the jar and squeeze the life out of her little friend.
Vade’s presence became so heavy her shoulders felt physically weighed down by it. “You hurt that frog, and I’ll bury your body so far beneath these floorboards not even corpseworms will know your flesh.” The look he gave Balor promised blood if he didn’t obey.
The two fae stared each other down, not moving, barely breathing.
Orelia wasn’t sure she was either.
Slowly, Balor set the jar on the table. “Let’s go, lads. Surely there’s another spot in this shit town for a drink.” He tossed her a disturbing wink, and the group of fae sliced through the crowd together like a harmonious knife as they made for the door.
When the last one left the tavern, the patrons let out a collective breath, and their volume was quick to resume. Vade removed his arm from around her shoulder, and she found she missed its protection.
“What in the hells was that about?” she asked.
He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Nothing. Now—”
“Oh my fuckin’ gods, is that who I think it is?” An enormous man with hair as pale as ice and skin almost the same stood in front of them with a massive axe resting on his hip and a hunting knife on the other. His broad shoulders were draped in furs, covered by a cloak bound with a bone pin in the shape of a horn. Icy hair sat in a knot high atop his head with his blonde beard twisted into three braids, each a few inches long. Sapphire eyes locked onto Vade’s, accompanied with a lopsided grin showcasing a missing front tooth.
Vade rose, and the men roughly grabbed each other’s forearms. “Elshar,” he said with a hint of a grin.
Vade was tall and built, but he paled in comparison to the mountain of a man who yanked Vade to him and wrapped him in a hug, then punched his shoulder hard enough she thought it may have shattered his bones.
Vade smiled, and she was so taken aback by the rarity of it that she gasped.
The stranger’s eyes flew to her. “Aren’t ya gonna introduce me to this pretty lass?”
“Elshar, this is—”
Elshar stepped forward and stuck out a giant, blood-stained hand. “Elshar, ma’am. Damn pleased to meet ya, though what you’re doin’ with this asshole, I couldn’t say. I doubt he’sbeen good company.” He smacked Vade on the chest, and a gravelly laugh came out of Elshar, crinkling his eyes at the corners.
She chuckled. “He hasn’t been. You seem much nicer, though.” Orelia tossed a jabbing grin at Vade who regarded her with little interest.
“Oh, I like her. Get us a few ales, why don’t ya? You owe me after last time.”
The broody fae grunted, then made for the bar.
Elshar pulled up a chair, and the wood groaned when he plopped down and dropped his pack with a heavy thump. “Never much for words, that one.”
Orelia eyed the man’s axe. The chipped blade looked like it had seen a thousand strikes. Elshar caught her staring and patted the smooth wooden handle. “Don’t worry, lass, Skull Splitter ain’t for you. Neither is Heart Carver.” He pointed to the hunting knife on his other hip.
Neither sight nor nickname offered much reassurance, but his friendly demeanor said he wasn’t interested in killing her. At least not yet. “So, you must know Vade pretty well, then?” she asked, though the idea of Vade having a friend was preposterous.
Elshar snorted as he adjusted the leather vambraces around his forearms. “In a way, aye. He kept to himself in the Points, but I guess ya could say I was his only friend. We wasn’t in the same tribe, but we roughed it out as youngins together growin’ up.”
“If you grew up together, how come he doesn’t talk with your accent?”
“I imagine it’s ‘cause he wanted to erase any kinda association with the Points. Didn’t want no one knowin’ he was from up the mountain.”
“But aren’t all fae from Five Points? So they’d know anyway?”
“Only if they knew he was a fae first.”
Her traveling companion stood at the bar with his back to them. Without the weight of his presence, or the obvious sight of wings, he could pass as a ren, like she’d suspected when she first met him. He didn’t have tattoos, and he wore his hair only slightly similar. “I can’t imagine him being a kid. He’s so serious that it seems like he came out of the womb like that,” she said.
“Aye, it does. He wasn’t always that way, back ‘fore his father done what he done. Don’t get me wrong, he’s the most somber fucker you’ll ever meet, but he used to know fun when we’d get into trouble as youngins.”
