Rog chuckled and ran a hand down his short blue beard. “If I’m not pickled yet, you’re far from it.” Then his expression turned contemplative. “I’ve been having a think about your lost friend. I think we could start looking?—”
“Rog.” Cali touched his arm, stopping him gently. “I’m touched that you’ve been thinking about this, but I found her.”
The jug of apple brandy nearly slipped from his grip. “You found her? On the pirate ship?”
Cali thought of the shimmering black tail disappearing beneath the water, and she found that the memory came without the pang she’d carried for so long. “Not on the pirate ship, but because of it.”
Rog’s face pinched in obvious confusion.
She put a paw on his shoulder and glanced at the bustling tavern—the crackling fire, the villagers gathered around Thrain at a long table as he regaled them with stories, the trays of warm scones being passed around by Sass. “How about I grab an ale, and I’ll tell you all about it?”
It was good to be home again.
Forty-Two
Villagers crammedevery bench in the tavern shoulder to shoulder, and the fire’s glow painted the great room in delicate brushstrokes of flickering amber. Erindil’s lute player had set up near the hearth again, his fingers plucking a bright melody that wove easily beneath the rumble of conversation, occasionally swelling into something the room could clap along to. The air smelled of cinnamon scones, spilled ale and the meats pies Lira had pulled from the oven.
Thrain, predictably, had claimed a table nearest the fire and showed no signs of relinquishing it. His voice had grown louder with each tankard of ale, and his tales had grown taller. The sirens had multiplied from a handful to “a horde of the wretched things,” and his own heroics in fending them would soon be the stuff of legends.
“And there I was,” he bellowed to a rapt audience, “tied to the mast with naught but my wits to save me and the sirens screaming for my soul?—”
“You were tied up because Gert didn’t trust you not to throw yourself overboard,” Cali reminded him, and the crowd roared with laughter as Thrain’s face mottled red beneath his beard.
She’d enjoyed soaking in the warmth of being home and welcomed familiar faces crowding close, but the heat of the fire combined with the press of bodies had begun to wear on her. She slipped off the bench and made her way to the bar, where it was comparatively quieter.
It was also cooler, the heat of the hearth diminishing across the great room, which was a blessed relief for a fur-covered pantheri. Cali sat on an empty stool and leaned her elbows against the worn wood as she faced the back wall lined with bottles. She was even grateful that Vaskel had taken a break or had stolen outside for a moment with Iris.
The kitchen doors swung open, and Lira emerged with flour dusting one cheek, untying her apron as she went. She spotted Cali and slipped behind the bar in the hellkin’s place.
“Hiding?” Lira asked.
“Recovering,” Cali said. “There’s only so much dwarf bravado I can take in one evening.”
Lira laughed, then her expression gentled. “Thank you for telling us about Adelaide. I know that wasn’t easy.”
Cali looked down at the bar’s scarred wood. Telling Rog had turned into recanting the story to her entire crew. “I’m sorry I waited so long. All of you deserved to know sooner.”
Lira shook her head, waving the apology away with one hand and sending traces of flour floating through the air. “Don’t be sorry. I understand it more than you might think. Sometimesholding onto grief feels like protecting it. Like if you let it go, you’re letting go of the person too.”
Cali’s eyes stung unexpectedly, and she blinked hard against the threat of tears. She was grateful for friends who understood her without requiring deep explanations. She was also grateful when the door opened and Vaskel slipped through it, joining Lira behind the bar.
Cali seized the opportunity to change the subject. “How are things with you and Iris?”
If it had been possible for a hellkin to blush, Cali suspected Vaskel would have. As it was, he busied himself buffing a sticky spot on the bar.
Lira tucked a loose strand of auburn hair behind a pointed ear. “I’ve never seen either of you so happy, Vask.”
“She makes me happy,” Vaskel admitted. “And settled. I didn’t expect to feel settled, not after all our years crewing, but I do.”
He stopped rubbing the bar and looked at Cali. “Speaking of settled. Will you be? Here, I mean.” He nodded toward the tavern at large. “I know you’ve been restless. Did finding Adelaide cure you of needing to keep moving?”
“It did. I don’t feel like I should be out there searching anymore. But being on the pirate ship made me realize that I already had what I was looking for. I just hadn’t noticed it because I kept looking past it, toward the horizon instead of right in front of me.”
Rog hopped up onto the empty stool beside Cali just then, his blue beard flecked with crumbs from scones or perhaps meat pie.
Lira’s face stretched into a wide grin. “Look at us. Our old crew together.”
The warmth of the moment dimmed for half a beat as the obvious absences settled over the small group. Pirrin was gone, and Malek was no longer the wizard any of them had once called friend.
