Holding my head high, I followed the Paragon into the ramshackle inn. One look at the rickety wooden slats told me that hoping for a comfortable bed had been foolish.
An enormous brick hearth centered the room, melting the chill from my skin. A handful of people sat around low wooden tables. They froze—gazes locked on the Solheart who had just strode in and the woman behind him.
A hush fell over the room as they bowed their heads and stared at their food, terrified to make eye contact.
"Pick a spot," the Paragon said before leaving to find the innkeeper.
Keeping my eyes down, I pulled out a chair near the hearth and felt its warmth blanket my back.
My keeper returned quicker than expected. He leaned on the back of a chair. "Would you rather have a normal conversation first or talk about our mission?"
"Work first," I said. "I don't have a drink yet."
He smiled faintly. "Have you been to Minsawa before?"
"No. That's our destination?"
He nodded. "Killian sent word to all of us. He asked me to join him and sent Ishii and Agendra to Minsawa and South Point, respectively."
Ishii and Agendra—Muirashi and Terishal's Paragons.
"The attack came sooner than he expected," I guessed.
"I think he didn't know what to expect. None of us did. Killian acted with what time he had." Paragon Tiernan toyed with the end of his hair. "We have no idea if a second attack will come. But this time, the men will be ready, at least."
"So we'll be meeting up with Ishii?" I asked. "He's been a Paragon for decades, right? Won't he be mad about . . . "
"You? No." He shook his head. "Ishii is smart. Maybe once everything is calm, he'll make a fuss. Right now, you're another soldier with a blade. He won't turn you away."
"That's a relief." I leaned back in my creaky chair. "Why not help Agendra?"
"He's a wall in himself. I'm not worried about him." The Paragon smiled faintly, betraying his lie.
He was worried about the other Paragons.
A middle-aged woman hurried to our table, long robes trailing behind her. She averted her eyes as she set down warm bowls of stew and two copper goblets of wine.
Mulled Muirashi wine. One of the few things I liked about this frigid hellscape.
Their food, I liked less. They made everything with iceberries, the bland crop that weathered the cold. I could see chunks of its pink flesh floating in my stew.
It tasted like snow to me.
"So . . . " I took the mug and sipped it. "I don't know much about you, Lord Tiernan."
He sat opposite me. "Just Reese will do."
"But you call me Lady Rohan."
"That's different." He leaned back and folded his arms. "Don't Aenir ladies gossip like it's their duty? Surely you've heard something about me."
The lords and ladies of Aenir did love their gossip. Most Paragons throughout history came from the military or bore noble names, well-known and documented.
Paragon Tiernan, though, might as well not have existed before Cleiv Solais claimed him. His past was a mystery. The fog of his life positively delighted the gossip-mongers. I'd heard dozens of outrageous tales, all certainly untrue.
"I hear you lost your arm in a fight with a dragon," I said, tilting my head. "But it appears to still be attached."
"Ah . . . " Reese glanced away. "That it is."
