Nothing in his voice held a hint of excitement for the evening.
“Are you sure you still want to go?” I asked.
A curious expression stole across his face. Then he nodded firmly. “Absolutely. This is your first night on the Floating Forest. We need to make it a memorable one for you.”
“Technically, it’s my second night. I spent my first one inside a tree.” I smiled.
“All the more reason to make this one as good as it can be,” he replied.
“If I’m being honest, I didn’t mind the tree. It was quite cozy in there.”
“Hmm.” He held out his arm, so I could slide my hand into the crook of his elbow. “Ifyou’re being honest? Now, tell me, Frida, why wouldn’t you be?”
“No reason, Rune.” I tucked my hand into his arm. “No reason at all.”
I swore the sky rumbled in response, like the Old God of Thunder heard my lie and wanted to strike me down with the most painful bolt of lightning. And if Iwasbeing honest, I would say I’d probably deserve it.
9
FRIDA
Oakwater was a bustling little village, its inhabitants lit up in the orange glow of the evening sun. Rune led me along a dirt street that was churned up by wagon wheels. The timber buildings were packed in close, where a clearing had formed due to a natural break in the trees. But a few towering redwoods still stood tall and proud amongst the homes. A group of laughing pixies clustered on a blanket in the shade of the tallest one. Their multi-colored wings matched the flowers.
We continued past them and moved onward down a row of shops. The signs pronounced the wares they sold: books and ink, alchemist supplies, or breads and cakes. Among them was a blacksmith shop and a fishmonger, too. And at the end of the row stood the tavern.
The doors were flung wide, spilling song and laughter into the street. Several patrons were clustered on the benches outside, where their tables were already full of tankards. I followed Rune through the door and into the humid warmth. The place was already packed, throngs of patrons facing thestage at the far end of the rectangular room. Timber beams lined the ceiling above. Decorations dangled from them: acorns and dried flowers and pine cones.
The minstrels were already in full swing. An elven woman perched on a stool, plucking at her lute, while a pixie sang along, her black curly hair bouncing along with the thud of her foot. Two others had taken the stage with them. One was on drums. He was a tall shadow demon—nearly as tall as Rune—and his gaze was sharp as he scanned the crowd, like he was hunting the room for someone. The look in his eye unnerved me, and there was something oddly familiar about him. A moment of panic clutched my heart and squeezed. Could he somehow be here to watch my every move? But then that hawkish gaze passed right over me, like I was no more important to him than anyone else. It was just my paranoia getting to me.
The fourth member of their little team was, from what I could tell, a human. With sun-kissed skin and soft brown eyes, she stood off to the side playing the harp, like she didn’t want to take any of the spotlight herself. But the sound of her playing brought mist to my eyes. I clasped my hands before me, awe filling my chest.
“Ah, there you go again. Let me guess, you think all this is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever laid eyes on,” Rune said a little gruffly, though there was a hint of fondness there, too.
“It is quite beautiful,” I said softly.
He looked a little pleased by that. “Well, find us somewhere to sit. I’ll grab us two ales.”
Before turning to go, he arched a brow, almost like he suspected an objection to his offer. An assassin who’d made a vow to the guild would say no. So obviously I had to do the very opposite of that, even if it might get me in trouble if the guild found out.
“Thank you!” I beamed and wandered off through the crowd. Rune was trying to lay a trap for me again. Little did he know, he’d laid the trap for himself—and he’d stepped squarely into it. My suspicions were confirmed. Rune knew far more about the guild than an ordinary person would, which begged the question…how? Had Rune once been a member of the guild? If so, why had I never heard of him?
And if he was a former member, was that why he’d ended up on Erik’s list?
I found the idea troubling. So troubling, in fact, that I bumped into someone’s chair because I was too distracted by my thoughts to look where I was going. My stomach collided into it. A bright, hot pain lurched through me, stealing all the breath from my lungs. I stumbled back, but the press of bodies closed in around me, forcing me to remain where I was—trapped between a wall of bodies and the press of the chair.
Black spots darted through my vision. I reached out and timidly tapped the shoulder before me. The owner of said shoulder was a fire demon, whose curving red horns shone wickedly even in the dim lighting of the tavern. He jerked his head sideways, looking back at me.
“Hi, sorry. Do you think you could scoot forward just a tad? I’m a bit stuck here,” I said.
He squinted at me. “Are you new here?”
“Yes,” I said through gritted teeth. I was struggling to get out the words, what with the way the chair was still smashed into my stomach. Fate, I could hardly breathe.
As if suddenly understanding my predicament, the fire demon dragged his chair an inch forward. It was enough to release me from the suffocating trap. I pulled in a breath of air and squeezed through the gap before settling into one of the empty chairs opposite his.
“Thanks,” I said, pressing a hand to my stomach. “There’s a lot of folk in here.”
“Most of the village. It’s pretty boring and quiet around here, so when something happens, we all flock to it.” He smiled and stuck out his hand. “I suppose I should welcome you to our little slice of paradise. Name’s Valdar.”
