Page 11 of Dust to Dust


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Owned and operated by Donn. That’s his name. Just Donn.

He’s been around for as long as I’ve known him.

Good Fae. Wild Court.

Around the tavern a few horses neigh at our approach. Others sleep in the barn not too far from the tavern.

Luckily it’s a quiet evening and there are no yells of laughter spilling out.

Pushing through the doors, I stomp off my boots.

I can’t see inside but I see Donn behind his bar that lines the entire left side of the room. He’s cleaning a cup when I walk in.

Looking up he jerks his head, his heavy beard swaying with the movement.

His long hair sits in a ponytail at the base of his neck and his dark eyes immediately find Whispen.

For a moment I freeze up.

Last time I brought Whispen into a bar with me he created a bar fight.

Like I said, it’s been a month.

But this time Donn chuckles to himself.

Whispen darts past me to snuggle the bastard. Luckily in his orb form.

Shaking my head, I walk inside to where all the tables sit. There’s a lone woman sitting at the end of the far side of the bar, her head down as she hovers over her ale.

Several round tables dot the tavern room.

I only need one.

“Orion!” Finnian shouts from across the room.

Listen. I’m a big Fae. With a lot of big emotions. Some I’ve stuffed down over the years. Others explode out of me.

A month of silence and forest and that fucking whisp and here he is. Alive. Whole. Still annoying.

I’m across the room and lifting him in my arms before I think better of it.

I am not afraid to admit my throat gets tight. Heat presses behind my eyes. I blink it back.

“Orion,” Finn gasps. “Can’t.”

“I know but can you hold your breath for just a moment longer?”

He exhales all the air in his lungs in the next moment.

“Guess not.” I let him go.

He wheezes for a few moments, bending over and gulping down air.

It’s dramatic but who am I to say so? I pat him on the back a few times to help him through it. “There ya are.”

He swats my hand away.

Gods, I’ve missed him.