“Yes, well,” he stammered, though he had no idea what to say. “It was a hunch, but, ah, a gamble that paid off.”
“Now, what I still can’t figure out,” she said, the grin sliding from her face as her voice lowered. “Is why the elven crown prince and his husband would risk coming here on a hunch instead of staying high and dry in their fancy tree castle.”
The ale he had found so pleasant just a moment ago soured in his stomach. With a concerted effort, he smoothed his furrowed brows, keeping his face as carefully expressionless as he could manage.
“Perhaps the less you can figure out, the better,” he replied coolly, leaning away from the counter. His heart was suddenly pounding so hard he was sure she could see his pulse thrumming through his skin.
But to his surprise, she chuckled again, turning away to resume her cleaning. “Well, you’re probably not wrong. I haven’t gotten this far in life by sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong, after all.” She glanced back at him, seeming to read the anxiety in his eyes perfectly despite his neutral expression. “Don’t worry, I won’t be sharing your little secret, though you don’t seem too good at keeping it to yourself.”
“Your discretion would be appreciated,” he muttered, then took a long drink from his ale. “Was it that obvious?”
“Well, an elf and a half-orc traveling alone together is a bit unusual even in Autreth,” Miss Jade said, shaking her head with an incredulous grin. “Just that by itself wouldn’t have tipped anyone off, though, and your plain clothes would throw most people off the scent, too. But maybe don’t tell people you have the exact same name as the elf prince married to an orc if you don’t want people to know you just so happen to be that same elf.”
“Taegan is a perfectly common name,” he said with a shrug. “In fact, it’s quite frequent for the names of newborn royals to see a spike in popularity amongst elves in the year or two after their naming. Many elves around my age would be named Taegan or some variation of it.”
“That would probably work with most folks,” she responded with a wry grin. “But, well, I suppose I’m not most folks. No need to worry, though, like I said; I don’t stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, and I don’t go blabbing about someone’s business that isn’t my own.”
A large group of sailors entered the tavern then, thundering through the doors as one was singing a bawdy drinking song and the others were laughing uproariously, pulling chairs up to all sit at the same table around the singer with his lute.
“Begging your pardon,” she said with an overly sweet smile, and she left the bar to take their order. Taegan watched her for a long while as she greeted the group, smiling amicably at them and even laughing and smacking one man’s shoulder when he gave her a flirtatious grin, though he could not make out the words. But eventually he shook himself out of his stupor, downing the rest of his ale and leaving an extra gold coin on the counter—though he partly trusted her word, buying her silence couldn’t hurt either. He left the tavern before she could return to the bar, hurrying past the group without looking toward her.
The crisp ocean air would do well to clear his thoughts. He made his way through the town square, heading closer to the harbor but down a different street, one that let out closer to the strand rather than the docks. It was a touch warmer, the sun a bit higher in the sky, but still pleasant and breezy. This street was a touch more narrow, the residential buildings he passed a bit more cramped. Two children, human girls of no more than ten, were kicking a ball between them in the street and watched him curiously as he passed, but otherwise, this street seemed just as calm and clear as the street Tomlin Whitmore lived on.
The town square was just over a mile away from the coast, so he reached the beach before long. It was close enough to the docks that there were not any idle beach-goers in the near vicinity, since the noise of dockworkers shouting, the loud wooden creaking of ships, and the hammering of repairs were all still quite loud. He found a cluster of dark, craggy rocks that would have made a pleasant vantage point if it weren’t for all the noise, and sat down to look out at the sea.
He had seen the ocean a few times in his life, but could certainly see the appeal of wanting to live somewhere it could be viewed at any time. Even with all the background noise, there was a soothing quality to the rhythmic, unending rise and crash of the waves, the calling of gulls occasionally breaking through from the clouds above.
When his head felt clear enough that he could actually think, he focused his thoughts on Miss Jade and their conversation. She seemed like a smart and insightful woman, but he could not trust that others he might come across in town were not just as intelligent. He had let his guard down and paid for it immediately; though part of him did not truly think she would break her word to him, it was still now a risk he had to consider.
He wondered briefly if he should try avoiding her altogether, but it seemed the safest place to keep their horses, so they would have to return to the inn at least once again, if not more. And it might seem more suspicious if he suddenly appeared to be going out of his way to avoid her; perhaps it would be better to play it off as of little concern to him, like he had nothing to hide so she had nothing to think too hard about. Though that certainly had the risk of backfiring, and she might try to wheedle more information out of him—or someone else in the tavern might also make the connection and act less discreetly.
But he had to tell Zorvut, though he felt a slight trickle of shame at the thought. Maybe he would have a stronger idea of how to handle what had suddenly become a loose cannon in their hands. He had kept his emotions mostly pulled away from the bond, and luckily it felt as though Zorvut was still preoccupied with his training, so maybe any stray thoughts that had gone through had not been noticed. He supposed there was only one way to find out.
“You gave her yourname,” Zorvut said to him flatly when he returned from his walk later that afternoon, sitting across from him at the kitchen table. After their training, the three of them had gathered around the table once more for a round of drinks. Taegan winced at the flash of frustration that came through the bond at the words, and even Tomlin’s raised eyebrows were a fresh stab of guilt.
“It’s not that uncommon of a name,” he protested, though the excuse was weak to his own ears. “But... yes, although she suspected it even before.”
Zorvut took in a long, slow breath, looking down at his drink pensively. Whatever he was feeling, he was shielding it from the bond, but Taegan felt he could safely guess the half-orc was more frustrated than anything. “Well, that’s not the worst news, but it’s not great, either,” he said slowly. “Maybe it would be best if you stayed away from this woman.”
“You don’t think that might be more suspicious?” Taegan asked, frowning.
“Suspicious? What would she suspect you of?” Zorvut countered. “She already knows who we are. The less she knows about you going forward, the better.”
“I suppose you’re right,” he said slowly. He would miss the opportunity for socialization, but it couldn’t be helped. “We’ll have to go back to either get the horses or pay for another week, though.”
“That’s fine,” Zorvut sighed, eyeing Taegan with a softer expression. He seemed to recognize Taegan’s mixed emotions. “You don’t think she means any harm?”
“I don’t know. But I don’t think so,” he replied with a shrug. “She seemed more... curious, in a way. Like she just wanted confirmation of what she already suspected.”
“I know Miss Jade,” Tom said. He had not added to the conversation yet, but now both Taegan and Zorvut swung their heads to look at him. “She likes knowing people’s business, but she also knows when to keep her mouth shut. I’d bet money she has more than a few other people’s secrets that she’ll take to the grave. I don’t think the, ah, gravity of the situation would be lost on her in this case. Avoid her if you think that’s best, of course, but I think the risk of her spreading any rumors is rather low.” For a long moment, all three were silent, considering. Taegan’s eyes flickered nervously between Tom and Zorvut, whose end of the bond was still muffled and distant. “Well,” Zorvut sighed, leaning further back in his chair. “I trust your judgment. Both of you. Since one of us will have to go back to pay another week for the horses, I can’t say don’t go back at all, but... Do what you think is best for us to stay safe.”
“Always,” Taegan said, nodding. He managed a faint smile, then looked down at the table contritely. “I truly am sorry.”
“It sounds like what you both need are a you can stick to,” Tom interjected with a chuckle, shaking his head as the tension seemed to have finally broken. “Let’s workshop some stage names, then?”
Chapter Eight
Itwasinhisbest interest to keep a low profile, so Taegan did not go out much for the next few days. The three of them soon settled into some semblance of a routine; they would typically have breakfast together, then Zorvut and Tomlin would walk out to the small backyard to train, leaving Taegan to his own devices for the rest of the day until they reconvened for supper. He tried to sit and watch the way he had the first afternoon, but while Zorvut seemed quite pleased with the progress he was making, to Taegan it all looked excruciatingly dull. To his untrained eye, they spent most of the day simply performing the same movements over and over again, and talking in strange abstractions like “seizing power from within” or twisting flame into thunder or squeezing it into ice. It all may as well have been another language entirely for how little he understood it.
