He had just taken a bite of stew when the door swung open, ushering in a gust of icy wind and Cernell Crow. The old man shuffled forward, cane tapping out a steady rhythm as he navigated around tables. For some reason, he was without the band of cloth over his eyes today. At first, he seemed to be passing through, but then he altered course, heading straight for their table.
Cole rose sharply, his chair scraping against the floor. He intercepted the man before he got too close. “Looking for someone, Master Crow?”
Crow tilted his head, milky-white gaze eerily perceptive. “Just wanted to thank the band. You’re the lute player, aren’t you?”
Something in the blind man’s stare put every instinct on alert. “How do you know that?”
Crow chuckled, dry and brittle. “I’m blind, boy, not deaf. I recognize your voice.”
Cole’s shoulders tensed. “I’ll share your compliment with the band, but let’s be clear—you stay out of our heads.”
Crow’s forehead creased. “Wasn’t my idea,” he muttered. “It’s not easy being old and blind and at the mercy of powerful men. If I’m not useful, I’m on the street. It’s happened before.”
Someone had orchestrated the attack on Mistel? Cole’s hands formed fists at his sides. “Who asked you to do it?”
Crow hesitated, then sighed. “Young Master Erlichman. Master Fawst put him up to it, and the boy can’t resist a dare.”
Cole should have known. He leaned in, voice a harsh whisper. “If anyone asks you to use your magic against us again, you’ll regret it.”
“Big words,” Crow said with a faint, bitter smile. “But no need to worry. The girl’s shielded now. She’s safe from me.”
Cole returned to the table, appetite soured. Mistel watched him, brow furrowed.
Zanna stood up, glaring after Crow. “What did he want?”
“To compliment the band,” Cole replied. “I told him to leave us alone.”
Mistel’s gaze flicked to Crow. “Do you think he will?”
“He doesn’t have a choice,” Cole said. “Your mind is shielded.”
She nodded but fidgeted with the edge of her scarf. Zanna sat again, but none of them could eat after that. Cole studied the room, cataloging faces, looking for threats. What did Prince Oren hope they’d find here?
Kurtz returned like a thundercloud and fell into his chair. “She’s gone. I literally scared the woman away, I did. If that doesn’t prove she’s guilty of something, I don’t know what does.”
Well, they were off to a fine start tonight. By the time they took the stage, the crowd had thickened. Cole led them through three songs, and the familiar rhythms eased his nerves.
Sir Fenris arrived with Ikârd, their presence commanding attention even in the packed tavern. Cole tracked them to the back where Fenris took his regular seat. Cernell Crow soon slid in beside him.
Midway through the fifth song, Cole spotted Derby Wenk enter with a group of soldiers, including Lord Livna and Lovell Dunn. They wove through the crowd to Fenris’s table in back. Stood in conversation for a full two verses.
Cole had barely finished the final chord of “Confidence” when an empty tankard clattered onto the stage near Mistel’s feet along with scattered applause. She yelped, leaping back, and her smile faltered.
Cole stood up, holding the neck of his lute in one hand. “Time for a break.”
“I need to visit the privy,” Mistel murmured.
Zanna, who’d been sitting at a table in front, rose and joined Mistel. “I’ll go with you.”
As the women disappeared down the hall, Cole and Kurtz settled at Zanna’s vacated table, Cole still watching the crowd to try and figure out who had thrown the tankard.
Suddenly, Fenris was on the move. Cole’s gaze followed him as he led Lord Livna and another man across the room and into a side office, leaving Ikârd and Lovell outside the door.
“What’s Lord Livna doing here?” Cole asked.
Kurtz pushed to his feet. “Dunno. I’ll ask Dunn.” He disappeared into the throng.
Cole’s attention returned to Fenris’s table where Derby handed Master Crow a satchel. The old man fumbled inside and pulled out a pair of fur-lined boots. Bribes for the bloodvoicer?
