Maybe itistoo good to be true.
Or maybe this village is simply due for a little good luck, for some unexpected generosity.
I can’t say for sure.
But there in the dark warmth of our cramped house, as I absently trace the rim of my cup, I let a foreign feeling wash over me—one that I don’t usually entertain these days.
Hope.
After finishingmy tea and enduring a few more stern words from Marta, I change out of my threadbare sleep clothes and step out into the cool night, the baron’s letter carefully tucked into my coat pocket.
I doubt I’ll have to look very hard to find Briar. The Burnis small—there are only so many places she could go—and she’s predictable.
She isn’t the only one continually drawn into the Soot and Cinder’s warmth and noise, either; the tavern is bustling as usual.
As I step inside, I’m greeted with several waves, a few boisterous declarations ofstill here!,and a drunk, sloppy kiss from one of the servers—Finn. His lingering touch on my waist is an invitation to come find him after he’s done working, should I want to.
Normally, I’d be more than willing to take him up on the offer.
But tonight, I’m on a mission. So I push past Finn, making my way through the thick crowd and the haze of smoke. An impromptu musical performance has started in one corner, as it often does here, with an array of worn instruments—many of them homemade—filling the room with a jovial tune. The floor vibrates with patrons stomping their feet, keeping rough time with the melody.
Toward the back of the building, Briar is standing on a chair, her arms spread out wide. Opposite of her is Koen Mercer, balancing on one foot on a chair of his own, a tankard wobbling in his left hand. They seem to be having a competition, daring one another to strike increasingly ridiculous poses—much to the delight of the laughing, cheering crowd of people around them. Neither of them looks particularly sober, which honestly makes their balance that much more impressive.
Briar catches sight of me and waves.
I smile back, brows lifting.
“We’re calling it a tie!” she declares, jabbing her finger toward Koen.
He protests, but she ignores him, giving a little bow before hopping down with a flourish. Koen tumbles down a moment later, into the waiting arms of several giggling women. They don’t seem to care that he’s just showered them in whatever liquid was left in his tankard; they embrace him all the same. Briar shoots a quick, dirty look their way, but she maintains her composure and makes her way over to me.
“So, you were able to keep your plans for this evening, I see.”
She gives me a sheepish smile. “He’s an idiot, but he’s fun.”
“No judgment here,” I assure her. “But I’ve got something important to show you; see if your future bedmate can slip us into a quieter room in the back, why don’t you?”
“On it.” She returns to Koen, dragging him away from his circle of admirers. After pinning him to the wall and kissing him hard enough to make the other women stop giggling, she continues to lean close to him, speaking in a low voice. He looks my way a moment later, then beckons for me to follow after he obtains a key from a hook behind the bar.
His uncle is the one who owns this establishment. Said uncle is also a frequent contributor to my expeditions, always making sure I have the supplies I need to get the job done. Koen is usually the one who coordinates things between us, and he can be helpful, too, when it comes to obtaining information.
He is, as Briar said, a colossalidiot, but he’s got a face that people trust, and a laugh that makes just about everyone drop their guard and spill whatever secrets they’re carrying. He’s got a decent enough heart too, I suppose; I wouldn’t let him anywhere near my best friend if he didn’t.
The key he took lets us into a small storage room. There’sa table in one corner, which we settle down at. Both he and Briar bring their drinks. I decline when they offer me one of my own; my stomach is too full of nervous energy to add alcohol to the mix.
“Another job offer,” I tell Briar, holding up the letter.
“Already?” She doesn’t look thrilled, but she reaches for it all the same.
“Too much work and too little play,” Koen tuts at me. “I’ve warned you about that in the past.”
I smile sweetly. “Well, we can’t all make our living as drunken entertainers, now can we?”
“Idohave more talent at this career than most, that’s true. I could teach you my ways, though.”
“I’ll pass.”
Briar ignores us as she scans the message, squinting through whatever haze her drink of choice—honey and whiskey, I’m guessing—has put over her vision. Her frown is deeply etched into her face when she finally looks up at me.
