“How do you know that?” Ash asked, as Attor picked up one of the rings and glared at it.
“While he was puffing himself up at our table in the tavern, I took note of his uniform.”
Koal picked up the other ring, frowning at the insignia. “Flaeron’s personal guards?”
“Aye.” Attor tossed the ring down, his lips curling downward. “I can smell his treachery from here. He’s about to make a move. That’s why he didn’t turn up at the barracks. We must keep our guard up.”
“He’s coming after us,” Ash whispered, the blood draining from her head.
Attor nodded. “He’s not one to let any opportunity to get Malcarion’s notice pass him by, lass.”
Race drew her to him, and she gripped the back of his shirt, trying not to vomit as he turned his attention to the others. “Any news on the guards’ rotation?”
Both males shook their heads. “Skaldr’s still out hunting one down. We will try again tonight.”
“Not what I hoped to hear,” Race grunted. “We leave at dawn regardless. The portal basin isn’t far. We’ll wait there for an opening.”
Ash let out a shaky breath, but dread edged her relief.
Koal strode to the window, opened it a little, and the faint sounds of the vendors setting up for the morning drifted to them. He headed for the front door. “I’ll be back.”
The heavy wooden panel had barely shut when it swung open again.
Skaldr trudged in, looking like he hadn’t slept in ages. A rather large, yellowing bruise spread along his jaw, and his redhair hung limp, streaked with soot. He dragged out a chair and collapsed into it, groaning.
“Are you all right?” Ash asked.
He cut her a dark look, said nothing for a beat, then grunted, “Anything worthwhile to hear?”
Ash narrowed her eyes at him.Fine. I won’t ask about your well-being, then.
“Depends on what you think is worthwhile,” Attor responded.
She pulled her attention back to the problem at hand. “So, Race killed two of Flaeron’s lackeys sent to spy on us. And that scaled peacock of a Talon-Marshal has vanished now?”
“No, he hasn’t,” Skaldr muttered, leaning back in his chair. His gaze shifted to Race’s. “He is at the portal. They want her for her power. They haven’t figured out yet what it is, exactly, or thatyouare back.”
The words seemed to draw the air tauter.
“He can try.” Race’s expression hardened. “I will kill him before he ever reaches her. Keep my return quiet.”
“Here.” Skaldr shifted, pulled a soot-stained parchment from his trouser pocket, and tossed it on the table next to the rings.
Race unrolled it, his brow furrowing as he read.
Ash stepped to his side, peering at the page, but couldn’t read the strange writing. “What does it say?”
“Three guards cycling six-hour blocks.” He ran a finger down the writing. “That gives us four hours before the next change, but something’s off. Those intervals are too close.”
Skaldr shrugged. “It’s the new norm now. Changing shifts whenever it suits them.”
A scrape at the back door froze them. Footsteps, then Koal appeared, carrying plates and a cloth-wrapped bundle that steamed in the chill. The savory aroma made Ash’s stomach growl.
“Seriously?” Race snapped while Koal set everything down.
“We need to keep up our strength. And I’m sure Ash is hungry. It’s venison.” Koal plated and pushed a pie toward her, then grabbed the seat next to Skaldr. “The baker was already up. Said the guards have been asking about strangers.”
“Us?” Ash stilled, the plate gripped with whitening knuckles.
