My eyes widened. “Damn.”
He would not earn enough from Yule. It was impossible. Unless I gave him mine…and then it might be close. Still not enough, but close.
But then I’dhaveto remain in Riverwold, at least for a time. Long enough to earn more coin to continue on my ceaseless path. But that could take weeks. Well over a month, maybe more. The residents of Riverwold would happily buy my ale, but they were a few dozen compared to the hundreds of patrons here for Yule.
But before I could consider it further, music piped through the festival grounds from the direction of the stage.
“Let’s do what Steffon said,” Ragnar said, sliding an arm around my waist. “Tonight, we celebrate. We can worry about what the future brings tomorrow.”
My mind wanted to latch onto the threat of what might come. What would it feel like to say goodbye to Ragnar? How would he pay his brother’s debt? And where would I go next?CouldI go somewhere next?
But the sounds of the celebration called for me. For now, I could put all that aside. It was a crisp, clear night. We had food and music and dancing. And right now, Ragnar and I had this moment in time. Nothing lasted forever. I should enjoy what I had while I could.
And so, with a beaming smile, I wound my arm around his back and followed the crowd.
* * *
After Birta the Bard played a few upbeat tunes on the festival stage, the crowd made its way through the town streets to the courtyard. Word had quickly spread that Nilsa had cooked up a big vat of stew. She’d also brought out some spirits that she’d saved for a special occasion. Apparently, there wasn’t anything more special than saving Yule.
The courtyard was packed. Shoulders jostled mine, and the crush of the bodies imbued me with warmth. A few shouts peppered the crowd as Nilsa edged through the inn’s front doors and leapt up onto a table. Bells jingled wildly. Her hair was even more frazzled now, but there was a luminous glint in her eye. She was enjoying this.
She called out, “I’ve got stew and spirits! First come first served!”
I stumbled forward as the hungry festival goers shoved toward the door. Ragnar’s hand was ripped from mine. The crush of bodies knocked me sideways, and when I finally caught my balance, I couldn’t spot his crimson hair through the crowd.
“Ragnar!” I called out.
Still no sign of him.
The crowd was packed so tightly now, I could barely breathe. Heart pounding, I squeezed through a gap in the bodies, breaking free of the stampede. A couple of pixies spotted what I’d done and followed just behind me, squealing when they almost got knocked to the ground. I grabbed both of their arms and hauled them out. And then we edged around the packed throng until we were on the street beyond the courtyard.
“This is madness!” one of them trilled. She swiped her dark hair out of her luminous purple eyes, blinking at the bodies still crushing each other, all in hope of some stew and some spirits.
The second pixie’s wings twitched behind her. Frowning, she reached over her shoulder and patted the spot where her skin met bone. “My wings nearly got snapped in half. Someone needs to do something or people are going to get hurt.”
“How?” the other asked. “No one will listen. We’re all hungry and tired. And a shot of spirits sounds lovely right about now. In fact…maybe we should try for it again.”
“Ragnar could do it,” I murmured, casting my gaze around for him. As tall as he was, his crimson hair would be unmistakable, and yet there was no flash of red anywhere. I frowned. He’d been beside me only moments ago. And it wasn’t as though he would wander off after the crowd had crushed us like that. Wouldn’t he be looking for me? It didn’t make sense that he was gone.
The back of my neck prickled with the sensation that someone was watching me. Heart lifting, I turned. Had Ragnar found me? But my eyes found nothing but shadowy corners along the empty street. Everyone was in the courtyard, fighting to get inside the inn.
“Is Ragnar that handsome elf who tried to steal your tavern spot from you?” the twitching wing pixie suddenly asked.
The other edged in closer. “Do you know if he’s spoken for?”
I snapped my attention away from the street. “What?”
“You know, is he spoken for? Does he have a partner?” the first pixie asked.
My chest tightened. “No. He doesn’t have a partner.”
The pixies exchanged a knowing look, but I’d heard enough. I started to move past them toward the alley. I had to get into the inn to make sure Nilsa was all right. She’d been outside when the crush had started. If she hadn’t gotten to safety, she could be hurt.
My cheeks burned as I shouldered through the crowd, but it had nothing to do with the pixies’ questions. The situation outside the inn was frightening, that was all. And it was far too warm with all the tightly packed bodies. I’d told them the truth. Ragnarwasn’tspoken for. He did not have a partner. Yes, we’d shared a night together, but that was all it was.
That was all it could be.
If they wanted to approach him, why should that bother me? He wasn’t mine. And I wasn’t his.
