Suddenly, Vaskel realized he didn’t have a reason for being in Thrain’s room. Not one he could tell the dwarf. Not yet. Not before he was sure how deep his friend was under Marina’s spell.
“I was worried about you.” This was true. “You were out so late.”
Thrain dragged a hand through his dark, wiry beard before cocking his head. “Didn’t know I had a curfew.”
Vaskel’s face warmed. Fretting about his friends comings and goings wasn’t something he’d ever done, which made it even more awkward that he’d invaded the dwarf’s bedroom so early. “Sorry, I?—”
Vaskel barked a laugh. “I’m pulling your leg, laddie. If you must know, I was with Marina, the newcomer I introduced around the tavern last night.”
Vaskel bit the inside of his mouth to keep from saying something about Marina he’d regret. “Where did you go when you left the tavern? Is she staying nearby?”
Vaskel would love to know if Marina and her new hellkin crew were camping in the woods or if they’d taken over a cottage after dispensing with the occupants. He knew for certain they weren’t at the Wayside Inn, which was the only place in town with rooms to let.
“You could say that.” Thrain swung his feet over the side of the bed, and they almost touched the floor. “She’s a guest at Greyhelm Castle.”
This surprised Vaskel. “The castle?” Had Marina befriended the ailing laird in the past two decades? “She’s not related to the laird.”
Thrain chuckled. “Aye, there aren’t any hellkin lairds. No, she’s the guest of the castle since she’s a renowned healer. She’s come to help the dying laird.”
The old ruler of Greyhelm Castle had been on death’s door for so long that Vaskel doubted there was anything a true healer, much less a fake one like Marina, could do for him. A scowl tugged at his mouth as he thought of Marina’s cunning charm and the false hope she was giving a dying man.
The dwarf smacked his forehead with one meaty hand. "But why am I telling you this? You know her."
Vaskel froze. Every muscle in his body went rigid as ice stilled his veins. What had Marina told him? About their past, their crew, the things they'd done together? They'd done questionable things when they were young and running with a hellkin crew—theft, deception, acts that skirted the edge of darkness. ThingsVaskel had spent years trying to forget, to atone for, to leave behind.
He waited for Thrain's shock, for disgust to replace the enthusiasm, for the dwarf to back away from him with the wariness reserved for someone who'd learned an ugly truth.
Instead, Thrain continued cheerfully, "She says she knew you from way back, when you were younglings.”
Relief flooded through Vaskel so suddenly his knees went watery. Marina hadn't revealed their actual connection, although he knew all too well that it was for own benefit that she hid the truth, not his.
Vaskel supposed it was partially true. He’d been close to a youngling when they'd first crewed together, barely past his coming of age and drunk on freedom. He’d been young enough to make terrible decisions that would haunt him decades later.
He brushed the bitterness from his voice. "It's been a long time since I'd seen her. We've both changed a great deal."
Thrain's expression shifted, becoming more serious, and he slid off the bed. "I need to know if you have any claims on her, Vask.”
Claims on Marina? It was so completely backward that he almost choked. She was the one who had bound his very soul to hers, marked him like property, and held the tether that could drag him back to a life he'd abandoned.
"I assure you I have none.” The fact that the same couldn't be said about her made his marks flare hot.
Thrain thumped him hard on one arm. “Glad to hear it.” He winked. “I’d have hated to fight you for her.”
Before Vaskel could think of a response or work out a way to warn Thrain in a way that the lovesick dwarf wouldn’t reject as outright lies, his friend had pushed past him and was lumbering down the stairs.
Vaskel blew out a hot breath. At least he’d learned something. Marina had ensconced herself in the castle. Then his tail twitched, an unmistakable warning as he remembered what else was at the castle and what could befall all of them if Marina discovered the secret in the dungeons.
Twenty-Six
Vaskel trudged down the stairs,still working through arguments to use on Thrain. The great room was empty, and he groaned at the thought that Thrain had already left to meet up with Marina. If only he didn’t understand all too well the intoxicating magnetism the female hellkin possessed.
Before he could pop his head into the kitchen or prepare the bar for the day ahead, the back door of the tavern swung open, and a figure bedecked in furs swept inside, bringing cold air and a torrent of snow flurries with him.
Erindil flung back his fur hood. “I’ve had an idea!" Then his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper that was still carried across the great room. "About your personal issue."
Vaskel flinched. The way Erindil said it made it sound like he had a rash in his nether regions, and he was profoundly grateful that the tavern was empty.
“A cure?” Vaskel asked as the elf glided toward him, the train of his white fur coat trailing behind him.
