I scoop a heaping spoonful of the salmi in my mouth and hum at the delicious flavors that explode across my tongue, but my eyes are fixed on Stee, who’s trying to sit on a stool at the bar counter and having a hard time of it.
“Was he talking about what I think he was?” I whisper between bites, my eyes quickly scanning our surroundings to make sure no other drunkards are listening too closely. “Have you heard of the Nalrora name before?”
Tarek shakes his head and pulls a chunk of bread from the intact loaf at the center of the table. “It doesn’t sound familiar, but I’ll look into it. If what he’s saying is true, then that could answer what the Igeeyin are doing and why they need allies.”
“You think there’s a faction that wants to overthrow the crowns?” Curio asks so quietly it’s just shy of a whisper, his eyes darting around cautiously. “They’d be mad to challenge the kings.”
“No one said it was wise, but keep in mind the source—he can’t even mount a stool.”
We all look over just in time to see Stee fall on his ass.
Tarek shakes his head and turns back to his meal. “Like I said, worth looking into because who knows what’s relevant and what’s not at this point, but I wouldn’t wager much on the drunken theory just yet.”
“Could that be the princess link?” Curio questions. “Some offshoot of a bloodline that people think should still be in power, but isn’t. A claim like that could easily rally support.”
“Verus referred toThe Cause. Doesn’t exactly sound like a knitting circle, that’s for sure,” Riall points out.
“The queen’s nephew Leyev is the heir, correct?” I ask, trying to recall what they told me about the Night Court when we first started trekking through it. “Maybe the fight is against him and not the realms as a whole. Maybe they don’t think he should inherit the crown because there’s another candidate.”
“I suppose it’s possible, but the courts have treaties in place. They’re supposed to back each other up in the event of civil unrest or some other viable threat,” Tarek counters.
Curio snorts and eyes Tarek. “Technically that’s correct, but we all know they’d turn on each other in a minute if they thought it was in their own best interest.”
“Fair point,” Tarek concedes.
“Who would we back in a war? Hypothetically speaking of course,” Riall asks, and both Curio and Tarek snort.
“It depends on who’s trying to kill each other,” Tarek jokes, and Riall gives an amused huff before he fills his mouth with a heaping spoonful of salmi.
“Let them all burn,” I grumble softly into my stew.
A slow smile stretches across Curio’s face as he watches me.
“What?” I demand innocently. “They’re happy to allow their realms to fall to ruin under the thumbs of fae like Tilleo and Dorsin and all the others who profit off their royal apathy. Orders police the realms but only for the right price. Most fae are too busy simply trying to survive to even attempt to do anything about any of it. If someone wants to fuck things up, I’m for it.”
“And if that someone’s worse?” Tarek challenges.
I shrug. “What’s worse than what we have now?”
“War,” Riall answers evenly.
“Maybe to some…” I agree, a trickle of anger working through me and sharpening my words. “But too many of us have been shoved through the cracks of this society, and we’re already at war. The three of you are the most powerful Order in all of the realms, and even you know what it is to battle for food, safety, and survival. Pretty sure more fae than not can say the same. They’re all kindling just waiting for a spark.”
The tall door to the tavern crashes open. Every head in the place snaps in the direction of the loud noise and the howling wind that’s working hard to rush past the three figures that are now standing in the entryway. Goose bumps rise on my arms, and my heart leaps to a startled cadence. Alarm jolts through me as I take in the thick cloaks of the three fae. Their light gray cloaks I would recognize anywhere because the fairy light sparkles off the hems like glittering stars have been sewn into the edges.
As though our musings conjured them from the mist, the Igeeyin walk purposefully into the tavern.
Three hoods move as though they’re searching for something, each one turning slowly with careful assessment until our table is in view. I can feel their eyes on us from deep within their hoods. A warning blares in my mind, and adrenaline slams into me like a battering ram as the three figures turn toward us and start to walk over.
ChapterFifty-Six
Riall squeezes my leg in warning when I casually drop my hand to reach for one of the daggers sheathed at my thigh. I glance from the approaching Igeeyin to Riall and then follow his gaze to the rest of the tavern patrons. None of them are watching the cloaked figures close in on us. They’ve all gone back to their tankards and discussions as though the presence of these three arrivals is nothing worth paying attention to.
A chill runs down my spine.
The odds that we’ve stumbled upon the same town and tavern as a random group of Igeeyin are lower than the chances that they’ll be walking out of here alive if they cause us any trouble.
Have they been following us somehow?
