“No,” Roan said shortly. “It was before the door. I don’t know what happened.”
Abigail thought she might know—and it wasn’t a good sign.
But whether there had been a spell placed to keep them in the tavern or not, the fact that this many men had been put to sleep and were still asleep didn’t bode well.
Whoever had cast this was playing with a powerful magic and had far greater power than she did.
“We’ll figure it out,” she said.
“I don’t need your help.” Roan’s words were gruff, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
“Of course, you need my help,” she said. “We’re in the tavern with everyone around us asleep. Surely, you don’t think it’s a coincidence that I’m still awake.”
Roan muttered something under his breath, and Abigail sighed. He wasn’t going to make this easy.
“Whether we like it or not, we’re going to need each other’s help to figure this out.”
He did not seem amused. “We shouldn’t be in thisposition,” he muttered.
“And yet we are,” Abigail said with forced cheerfulness. “So we’ll have to make the best of it.”
“How exactly do you suggest making the best of this?” Roan asked, gesturing to the men sleeping around them. “Should we throw a party while my business goes under?”
“You’re not going to go under,” Abigail said, as patiently as she could. “But we should try to figure out what’s going on here, so we can decide what we’re going to do next.”
Roan grunted and staggered to his feet. “Gonna go find him. Make him make it stop,” he said. His steps faltered as he made his way toward the door with Beastie beside him.
“Roan, be careful,” she called out, the words barely leaving her mouth before Roan bounced backwards. Somehow only his head landed on Beastie, who yelped.
Abigail sighed.
“What is that?” Roan asked, sitting up and turning to her with a glare.
As if any of this was her fault. “It looks like we’re stuck here,” she said as cheerfully as she could. “We’ll have to figure out what we’re going to do now, without being able to leave. Do you remember if he said anything before he left?”
Roan shook his head, carefully rubbing the side of it. “I don’t remember,” he said, panic lacing his voice. “I don’t remember anything.”
Beastie leaned up against his side as if to lend him comfort, and his hand moved to rest on her honey-colored head.
He’d never been the most pleasant man, but seeing him reduced to this was nothing she would ever wish upon a man. “It’s okay,” Abigail said in the same way she might soothe a panicked child, letting warmth infuse her voice. “We’ll figure it out. You’re not alone.”
Roan glared at her. “I’m an adult,” he said. “I don’t need to be coddled.”
“I know you don’t,” she said in a rush, “but you just hit your head and it’s okay if you don’t remember things, I’m sure it’ll come back to you eventually, and even if it doesn’t, that’s okay, we’ll figure it out and—”
“You’re talking too much,” he said, interrupting her nervous stream of thought. “My head hurts.”
Abigail sighed.
Hitting his head hadn’t changed him, apparently.
He looked around the tavern, and she could hear the mostly hidden fear in his voice as he said, “What if they never wake up?”
“They will,” Abigail said, her voice carrying a confidence she didn’t feel. “I know they will.”
Roan gave her a sideways glance before getting to his feet and stomping away. Beastie looked between her and Roan as if she wasn’t sure whether to stay with Abigail or go with her master.
“Go with him,” Abigail said to Beastie, nodding in the direction of his office. “He needs you.”
