THE NIGHT WAS A DAMP ONE. The wind rushing up the sides of the cliffs brought the sea mist with it. The streets and rundown shops were coated with a sheen of saltwater.
A sharp jab in my belly made me gasp.
Watch your claws!
Apologies. It is not my fault that your elven flesh is so pierceable. A weakness for sure. Perhaps you should try to grow scales.
“Seems doltish to me to stuff that lizard into your breeches. What if he nibbles on your cock while he’s in there?” Asdren asked as we made our way around drunks, whores, and a prophet preaching to any who would listen about the dark days of Melowynn that lay ahead.
The rattly call of a raven overhead bounced off the buildings. “There are few places left to hide him. They will surely search my saddlebags.”
“And they won’t pat you down for hidden weapons?”
“Perhaps, but he can move about.”
“You and that wyrm are worrisome.”
I ignored that. None would really understand the bond Jaculi and I now had. It went past the friendship I shared with Hasulett or Click. He had chosen me. We were linked. I could not explain it better than that. He would protect me or die in the effort. That I felt. And I would do the same for him, so I wishedto have him near. I shoved the dragon about in my drawers, his tail sliding downward to hang along the inside of my thigh.
Raucous shouting met us at the door of the Violin. Leaving Hasulett at the town stables had been a good decision. At least they seemed reputable. As reputable as a stable run by a man the size of an ogre sporting a hook for a hand could be. I had seen and dealt with mangy sorts for years. One does not grow up with bandits and not meet the most loathsome souls.
Standing just outside the door, I turned to Asdren. “You should stay at one of the bars. The note said to come alone.”
“You’re more likely to see your goddess step down from that cloud there and dance the high stone jig than you are to see me planting my arse on a stool while you go meet some cutthroat.” With that, he pushed inside, stepping over a human woman lying on the floor, passed out with a rum bottle tucked into her bosom. I peeled off to the right after seeing Asdren go left. The horse tender gave me a nod as I neared.
“I’m here to see Lawful Larry,” I shouted over a fracas between two women and a parrot by the bar. Asdren had melted into the rowdy group with ease, it seemed. He already had a mug of ale in his hands, but his eyes were riveted on me.
“Wait here.” She ambled over to the bar, shoving a dwarven man with no teeth aside to speak with the barkeep. The ugly, bald man wiped some foam from his cheek as he peered around the horse tender. I reached out to pet the nose of a nervous, small, black mare. A bard strolled by wearing a dress of fine satin as he strummed and sang. The horse shied away from me, the scent of dragon adding to her unease. I moved a few steps back to put her at ease as Jaculi clung to my undershirt. I would look as if I had tangled with a sand cat by the morrow. She returned to her post after taking a shot of an amber liquid at the bar. “Head on up. Prescott will let you in after you’re cleared.”
“Thank you.”
She belched a rum-scented burp into my face as a reply. I made my way upward, never stopping to gawk at the chaos on either floor. Climbing the spiral stairs once again, I found a shocking sight.
The troll looked up from his book. I had a moment of pure panic. What in the name of Danubia was a troll doing here reading a book?! He was huge. Perhaps not quite as tall as the mountain troll we had battled but nearly. His skin was a lighter shade of blue-gray but there was no mistaking that a troll was sitting on a tiny stool reading a book. He was wearing an oversized sweater with several moth holes and ragged trousers. His massive feet were bare.
“Good? Bad?”
I glanced about. He poked me in the chest with a finger. I nearly tumbled back down the stairs.
“I am good. Very good. I am here to meet with Lawful Larry. I have a note.”
He squinted at me, tapped his book to his large brow, which I now saw was a child’s picture book, and then reached back to open the door.
“Be good. No weapon.”
It was a warning I planned to take to heart.
“Thank you.”
I dug into my pocket and got a playful nip on my finger. Prescott took the note, stared at it and then ate it.
“Me look bag.” He rifled through my saddlebags but found nothing that could be used to fell this Larry fellow, so he handed them back to me. A good omen, I felt. He’d not felt the dragon curled around my hips. Perhaps if he had, he would have thought me well-endowed and made a pass, but I was spared that scenario.
I handed over my quiver, bow, and eating dagger before pushing through a thin wooden door. The air in here was lesscloying. Jaculi wiggled upward to hug my chest, a sizeable lump that I wasn’t sure my leather breastplate hid well.
A brazier sat in the corner of a dimly lit room, smoke curling from a pile of imported Black Sands incense. There were small tables everywhere with ornate carvings, brass lamps, or delicate glass figurines. Amid the smaller tables was a large bed, currently filled with two naked males, snoring softly, and a large dining table. My stomach rumbled at the rich buffet of food and drink bowing the dark wooden trestle table. At the head of the table sat a man, elven obviously even if his sharp ears were shorter than the norm. He was incredibly handsome. Sinfully so, with a regal nose and almost feminine features. If not for the dark hair, I would swear I was standing before King Aelir. Surely this was Coelum Cadere, the bastard prince. The familial resemblance was too strong to ignore.
Black hair worn loose and long. Far too long for a common elf. Only nobility were to have hair past their shoulders. Of course hewasnobility…
