Giddiness bubbles in Sei’s stomach. He finishes his glass before following Delline. This is fun. Maybe they can havetwobottles.
?
CHAPTER TWELVE
Marek
The Tipsy Tree is Marek’s favorite tavern in Ostomar City. The decor is excessive, sure. Marek has only visited Silaise once, but he’s certain they don’t actually decorate like this. The wine is good, though, and the clientele is accustomed to dragonriders. Nobody bothers Marek as he waits for Ludvik to wake up.
There’s a pitcher and cup on the table next to Ludvik’s slumped form. Marek is disappointed to see it only holds water—not that drinking from random pitchers is wise. Hopefully Ludvik will wake up before Marek finishes his wine.
Marek doesn’t have to wait long. Something crashes downstairs, and Ludvik stirs. He rubs his hand over his face, then peels himself from the table.
“Hi,” Marek says.
Ludvik blinks. He’s in his mid-thirties but looks younger with his messy sky-blue hair and wide, unfocused violet eyes. His right cheek is red from pressing against the table.
“Been a while,” Marek adds.
Ludvik just blinks again. Then he groans and rubs his eyes. “Fuck, no. I didn’t take nearly enough to hallucinate today. Which means Marek Fucking Stormrider is actually sitting at my table right now.”
“Here in the flesh,” Marek confirms.
Ludvik slumps back in his chair. “How long have you been here?”
“A while. How are you feeling?”
“Fuck, I hate dragonriders,” Ludvik mutters. “I was feeling great a minute ago. The Tipsy Tree has the most comfortable tables of any tavern in Ostomar City. What do you want, Stormrider?”
Despite his annoyance and drug-dilated pupils, Ludvik keeps his voice down. He’s alert enough not to cause a scene.
“I was hoping you’d tell me.” Marek keeps his own voice low. “Countess Zora Bernek told me to talk to you. Why would she suggest that?”
“Ask the countess. Fuck, nobles are worse than dragonriders.” Ludvik rubs his eyes again. “No offense, Stormrider.”
“None taken, and you’re not wrong.” Marek pours the glass of water and pushes it across the table. “Are you happy here, Ludvik?”
“Being interrogated? No.” Ludvik inspects the water suspiciously. “Napping in my favorite bar? Yes. Like I said, comfortable tables. Never sticky.”
Marek finishes off the last of his wine. “I mean since you left the dragon corps.”
Ludvik bristles. “I’m not a sad drunk or a charity case, Stormrider. I don’t get high every day. I just like to enjoy my days off.”
“Days off from what?” Marek says.
“This and that.”
Marek might have believed it, except he already knows a great deal about Ludvik’s recent activities. “I know you’re unemployed.”
“I’m between jobs,” Ludvik counters.
“I had you investigated. How do you think I found you today?”
Ludvik downs more of the water. “A happy accident.”
“Look, do you want a job or not?” Marek asks, and Ludvik jerks upright. “I can get you a new position in the corps. Something in Talorna, not Parsk. Do you want that?”
“Yes,” Ludvik says immediately. “I accept.”
