Letting out a groan, I spun quickly and immediately connected with a hard chest. My hand flying to my own nose.
Ouch.
Hands were grabbing my shoulders then, pushing me back a step so he could see me. "What did that bastard do?"
"Stop following me," I hissed, "people are watching."
He glanced around. "Is that a bad thing?"
"Yes, because I don't want to be seen with you." My reply was vicious, sharp and cutting.
His lip curled into a sneer that had me taking another unsteady step back. “Because who wants to be seen with the Luanthiandog, right?" Closing the space between us, his gaze was intimidating and dark. "Kai made a mistake with you. You're going to be the ruin of this quest, not the salvation. I don't know why exactly he's so enamored with you, but you're just like the rest of them."
With a scoff he was walking around me, leaving me stunned. It took far too long in my drink-addled brain to connect together exactly what he said and why it was significant.
He thought I disliked him because he wasLuanthian?
A hysterical laugh bubbled in my throat.
Of course, he thought I was Solerian; thought I looked down upon him. He was many things I didn't like: rude, arrogant, entitled, sinfully handsome, but being born Luanthian? That was not on the list of things I despised about the man. I spun then, to tell him exactly that, but he had disappeared into the crowd, leaving me with a pit in my stomach and a headache forming between my temples.
Goddess, I needed to find Rena.
Chapter Nine
My stomach revolted as the salty taste of Drunk-Man’s Elixir hit my tongue, my hands shaking as I drained every drop of the putrid remedy. Body sinking to the floor, I pulled my knees to my chest, waiting for the effects to kick in. For the pounding of my head and the nausea that held tight to my cramped muscles to ease.
While it was most effective in the throes of being intoxicated, it worked well enough for the hangovers that followed.
A knock sounded upon the door, my eyes darting desperately to Rena who slept soundly, her curls in disarray as one foot hung from her bed.
Nine Hells.
Standing, legs shaking with the effort, my head splitting from the pain that ricocheted with each knock, I threw open the door.
Ireallyneeded to stop drinking firemead.
My gaze travelled down to a young Luanthian boy that stood on the other side. He was dressed in brown pants and a brown tunic, black thread running through the material. Pale blonde hair stood stark against his darker skin and his lips tightened with vague annoyance that quickly vanished as he stood straighter.
"Apprentice Syra Sommers," his voice cracking slightly on my name, "a message for you."
With a smile that I feared was more of a grimace, I took the letter from his outstretched hand and gestured for him to wait a minute.
Instantly recognizing the writing on the outside of the letter as Bran's and even knowing Bran, without doubt, had already tipped the boy for delivering the message, I couldn't help swiping up a silver coin from my nightstand and tossing it to him. The smile that lit his face was warm enough to briefly chase away the nausea that plagued me.
"Thanks kid," I called out as he gave me a nod and began to take his leave.
Whoever his parents were must have rather good connections. To have the boy apprentice to be a page for the barracks was a far better calling than the manual labor or front lines army fodder that many Luanthian boys' fates fell to.
Door clicking shut, I immediately made way for my potions bag. Shuffling through the vials, I located another Drunk-Man’s Elixir and placed it on Rena's nightstand for when she awoke.
Tearing the letter open, my eyes ran over the scrawling.
Institution library, twelve o'clock.
Apprentice robes swished around my ankles as I stepped through the massive wooden doors of the Institute. Despite having been in this building various times over the years, it always left me breathless. A formidable structure of grey stone with countless large windows that flooded the space with brilliant light, it looked like something from the pages of a storybook. The first level opened up into a beautiful library, filled with so many books that I never knew where to look first. Large shelves from floor to ceiling covered every wall, ladders moving and trailing between the stacks as people and workers looked for varioustomes. Shorter shelves sat in neat rows so far back, I couldn't see where they ended. Tables were scattered throughout the library as well, people sitting at them hunched over open pages or scribbling down notes.
Even as a child I had loved the library within the Institute, a sanctuary of academics and wonder in a city of cruelty and persecution. It was filled with idealists and dreamers in a world that valued physical strength and magical aptitude above all else.
