“Found, as in robbed?” He’s already wrestling with the bundle, maneuvering the paper around a mini pie and using it like a handle before he hands it to me. “She put an entire extra pie for you in here, you know.”
It’s warm, making my tastebuds water, but I’m not in the mood for his casual quips. “You don’t have to keep reminding me,” I say before I take a bite. The flavor bursts on my tongue—tart and nearly crisp, but glazed with warmth and sugar. I can’t tell if it’s apple or peach, but he was right. Checklberry doesn’t count at all.
“Reminding you what?” he asks, digging another slice out for himself.
“That I’m a murderous, thieving pirate who deserves to hang,” I say, matter-of-fact, wiping at the glaze on my lips. “You keep bringing it up like there’s a chance I’ll forget I’m everything you despise.”
“I don’t despise you.” His hand snakes out around my upper arm, stopping me in the middle of the crowd. He just watches my face, at first. Creaking wheels and the low buzz of conversation fill the silence and I look for an explanation in his bright eyes. My every nerve stands on end, the commotion beyond us fading. My focus narrows to his thumb, which lifts to catch whatever crumb is left on my face.
“I thought that was very,veryclear.” He pops the thumb into his mouth, already grinning like a fiend as he sucks it clean.
The entirety of me ignites in flame, burning away my ability to argue as he keeps walking. He knows I’ll have no choice but to follow, completely annoyed and having failed to stop my lips from twitching into a smile. A human woman watches him go and then snaps her head back to me with an expression that’s a mix of admiration and embarrassment. I avoid her eye and urge my legs to move as he steps back out towards the dockside shops.
Tavi appears and falls into step with us just as I reach him. “Most everyone has gotten a room already,” she says, her eyes flicking over the bags in his hand and the pie in mine. “Some said they plan to stay at the inn on the other side of town. I told them we’ll do a headcount here tomorrow at noon.”
“Thank you. Stiden should be back with news about the repairs, have you seen him?”
Tavi shakes her head, scanning those that mill about on the dock.
Rune nods. “I’ll go check in with him. You two go ahead.”
“You’re sure—”
“I can—”
Tavi and I speak at the same time, and Rune puts his hands up to halt us. “I can handle it. Order an extra ale for me once you get a table.”
Once he goes, I turn to Tavi. “Elio inside?”
She nods. “We’ve actually already eaten. I’ll have to force him to rest soon. He won’t say it, but he’s still hurting.”
I follow as she moves into The Weathered Hull. “Maybe Otto will find something stronger for pain . . .” I trail off as I see Soraya perched by the hearth, her splinted leg resting out in front of her. A lyre sits in her lap. The memory of Rune’s voice springs up again. It was less sound and more a feeling. A rattling, bone deep, sensation of melody that pulled you in. Now that I think about it, Soraya’s voice tugs in much the same way, but lighter, more delicate.
Elio waits at a table near Soraya, who begins to pluck out a melody. “Rune on the way?”
“He went to go check on Stiden and the repairs.”
I set my wrapped pie on the table, deciding it’s better to wait until my stomach has more in it, otherwise the sweetness alone may make me sick. The inn has a long bar that’s packed tight with greasy-haired sailors. Some of the others fromThe Gilded Hartare scattered in groups and pairings at the tables, many with several empty mugs before them.
Elio follows my gaze, nodding to the packed bodies. “If he doesn’t hurry, he won’t get a room. Tulin said the one down the way is full up, and this place is packed.”
Tavi gives a nearly imperceptible shrug. A server approaches and grabs the empty plates on the table. He’s tall and wiry, with scarless knuckles. “What’ll you have?”
“Two ales, please,” I say. “And whatever vegetables you’ve got, if that works?”
“You should try the lamb,” Elio says, leaning in like it’s a well-kept secret.
“I actually avoid meat if I can.” I shrug, letting my eyes travel over the crowd of faces around us.
“Really? I’ll choose it every time. I spent a long time on a siren diet, but there’s something about a steak . . . it has this texture you can’t find in the ocean.”
“I prefer venison, myself,” Tavi says and I sputter a laugh, trying to decide if it’s a joke at my expense. Her eyebrows raise a fraction, like my reaction surprises her.
“Has Rune really not told you?” I ask, running through the logic in my head. I’d assumed he’d let them know at some point, if not the rest of the crew. But then—he’s surprised me before. And he knows how strange I feel about that side of me. “I’m a deer shifter,” I say, holding Tavi’s gaze.
Elio snorts. “Damn, Tavi, how’d you miss that? You basically just said you’d like to stick a fork in her.”
“I’m definitely going to stick a fork in you,” she says, deadpan. “I’ve spent a long time away from the forest. And I can only scent so much over the stink of your boots.” She kicks at him under the table for emphasis.
