Honey took his shoulder and forced him to face her. “This is preposterous. You cannot do this. You do notneedto do this—you said your project could be changed, that it could leave out the adventurous accounts.”
“Well, yes. But I—I should not give up until I’ve tried everything. This is a last resort, yes, but it’smyproject. I should take it into my own hands, give it a real shot of being the book that I thought it could be.”
Honey’s eyes narrowed. “The book that damn library of yours thought it could be, you mean.”
“Well, of course. They are paying for it after all!”
“The book your colleagues thought it could be.”
Ainsworth paused as Honey’s words hit their mark. He considered his next statement carefully. “Honey, I see this project far differently than I did before. And I am much changed in my approach to this work, I assure you. But I—I’m sorry, I wouldn’t expect you to understand. I simply want to observe the conditions, chart a path for my book, get a clear idea of the—”
She scoffed, folding her arms. “I doubt you’ve really changed at all in that respect—and what about the small matter of the dangers the mountain poses. You’ll get hurt. You’ll—die!”
“I won’t!” Ainsworth said, indignant. “I’m not going to try andslay the dragon or anything, and as I was about to say before you interrupted me, Ashe taught me tracking signs for the creatures of the mountain, so I can most likely evade them and study them from a safe distance. And if Freckle’s lot do agree to go”—Ainsworth was hoping they would and wondered if his inclusion in their party would be enough to make the difference, considering he had taken others out with him before—“then I shall have protection. Fern also gave me a slivang arrow, should the need arise for it.”
Honey stood abruptly and, with the fire to her back, looked down at him. Her eyes, for a split second, were aglow with flame—golden, liquid, and spinning. Despite the heat radiating from Honey and the fire, Ainsworth felt a chill go through him. He took in her horns, her tail, her claws. She was not scaled…but the barman had said that was not always the case.
“Ainsworth. You cannot go to Mount Vengeance.” Her voice was strange to him: stern and forceful.
“Why? Why do you truly not want me to go, Honey?” Ainsworth asked, and he felt as though his gaze matched the intensity of hers.
“I do not wish you to get hurt in the name of proving yourself, in chasing this ambition of yours.”
“Oh? It isn’t anything to do with…the dragon?” he asked.
“Leave it, lad,” said Bren in a warning growl. Ainsworth shot him a look. Perhaps Bren knew, then—that Honey was a Dragon Pèidse. Honey had, for whatever reason, chosen not to confide in Ainsworth, and suddenly he felt awful for putting her on the spot with such a question.
But she didn’t seem to pick up what he had been getting at. “You’re damn right it’s to do with the dragon. Even with yoursinglearrow, you’ll be vulnerable up there with it around, especially if you’re alone!”
“He won’t be alone.” Ashe stood up suddenly. “If Freckle’s lot turn away from the challenge, then I’ll go with him.”
“And leave the Misnich Inn unguarded?” Honey asked, somewhat strained. “I thought the last time was a one-off.”
Ashe folded her arms. “Ainsworth is part of the Misnich Inn, andI would not havehimgo unguarded into danger.” If they had all not been in the middle of an argument with him as the subject, Ainsworth might have felt himself tear up at the wildeshifter’s declaration. “Alvea and Bren can deal with any unruly guests, and it’s been a while since I went out scouting to assess the threats on the mountain. Ruraidh can perhaps deal with any that slip past me, considering he spent much of his life evading and hunting them. You can pull your weight as guard for once.”
“Thank you for the reminder, Ashe. But actually,” Ruraidh put in, “I’ll come with you, too, Ainsworth. I know the landscape well. I will be an invaluable guide and ensure your safe return to the Misnich Inn.”
“Oh, Ashe. Ruraidh,” Ainsworth said, truly touched. That they would so risk their lives for the sake of his protection and companionship…“That’s very kind of you both,” he added, “but—”
Ashe shook her head. “You cannot stop us. And this puts to bed any doubt that Ainsworth will turn away from the mountain tomorrow, for we have already explored some of it together. Right, Ruraidh, let’s go prepare for the journey. And Honey, just dock our wages for the weeks we’ll be gone.”
“I willnotlose half my staff to this folly!” Honey roared. She pointed at Ainsworth. “You have come here again and uprooted us! Why cannot things just stay as they are?”
“I’ll prepare some provisions for you all,” Alvea said, ignoring Honey and hurrying to the kitchen.
The rest of them flitted away one by one (Bren giving him a hearty clap to the shoulder for good luck as he passed) until only Ainsworth and Honey remained.
She looked at him, eyes back to normal but swimming with tears. “You just came back, and you would leave again to chase…what? Ambition? Glory? Your book means that much to you?”
What do you want?
The Misnich Inn’s story, including the mountain itself, deserved to be told, to be brought to the world. And he wanted to be the one to do it, because he loved this place, these people. Everything thebook initially represented to him—prestige at the library, future career opportunities, the awe and approval of his peers and his superiors, the approval of Enach—no longer prompted such an intense burn of desire in his belly as it had before. But as he realized in Hinslyth, it lingered, and was not easy to completely extinguish. He had started this path, this project. Hewouldsee it through. In being the one to do so, he would give the inn and mountain the renown they deserved and would in turn show them all back in Hinslyth what he was made of. He would showhimselfwhat he was madeof.
“It does,” Ainsworth said softly.
“You stupid scholar. Perhaps you haven’t changed at all,” Honey said, turning away from him. She stormed back into the inn, and when Ainsworth knocked on her door before retiring for the night, she did not answer.
Chapter 30
