Page 53 of The Seeker

Barely any time had passed before she was weaving her way back over, her arms full. “Yer man can wait outside while you try these things on.”

Askel was already at the door, but I bit my lip as I eyed the window.

“Trust me, girl, no one be looking in here. Not if they want to keep their eyeballs.” She smirked. “Whole town is scared of me, ya see? When I run out of room for new products, I’ve been known to go about town, sewing folks into their clothes as a joke.”

My jaw dropped, and my gaze met Ena’s, both of us giggling.

“Stop yer giggling,” the shop owner snapped as she handed me a shirt. “I’m serious. You might just find yourself sewn into a dress if you’re not careful.”

That shut me up, though there was still a smile on my lips. I’d never been threatened by someone so small.

I switched from my threadbare white shirt into the green one she’d pushed in my hands, loving the smoothness against my skin. It fit perfectly, as did the breeches.

My gaze caught on Ena, the shop owner buzzing around her as she tried on her outfit.

The second set fit well too, and I asked the shop owner if I could continue to wear it and toss my old ones in the trash.

She tsked at the sight of the rags on her floor. “Girl, you’re going to have to burn those, I’m afraid.”

She was right.

Ena’s two outfits fit perfectly as well, and she added her clothes to the pile to be burned. The shop owner called Askel back in, and our bill was settled quickly, even as she tried to sell Askel some additional clothes for himself.

Back out on the mountainside, the sun barely visible, I shivered, having left my cloak in the inn.

“I don’t know about you ladies, but I’m starved.” Askel peered at the pub the innkeeper had pointed out. It was the only building, other than the inn, with lights still on, and though I wanted my cloak, I knew I would be fine without it in a pub.

We walked the few paces to the pub in silence, the noise from inside spilling out onto the empty dirt street as we approached.

“It’s the only place in town that serves food. It’s either eat here or find your own dinner,” Askel explained.

Ena’s eyes were wide as she perused the rest of the street. “There’s no market?”

He shook his head. “Not that I know of. Traveling ones surely, but the whole town is less than eighty people.”

“You’ve been here before.” I eyed Askel warily, wondering what he wasn’t telling me.

“Yes,” he admitted with a sad smile, “A long time ago thought—before the war.”

I frowned. Askel was my age, meaning his “a long time ago” wasn’t as far from the current moment as he insinuated.

Unless he visited as a child.

My attention was drawn back to the pub, as when the door opened, it was impossible to speak, and I was pretty sure all eighty residents were currently shoved inside the pub.

There was a long, polished wooden bar on one side, every stool taken, the bartender behind it rushing as he filled glasses of ale from wooden barrels lining the wall. He was older, but his face was kind, even as I could tell he was struggling to serve every patron in the establishment on his own. The room additionally held six large tables, every single one full. I was about to turn around and head back outside when Karl raised his arm, beckoning us over to a table that had looked full from the vantage point of the door. Upon closer inspection, there were two stools available—one between Karl and Jase, the other between Jas and Nel. There was no sign of Otho.

“Mr. Broody is at the bar,” Karl explained with a gesture, somehow reading my mind. “You can have my seat, Runa. I like standing and eating.”

I shook my head, my gaze returning to the bar. “It’s okay, Karl. I’ll find a seat with Mr. Broody.”

He smirked. “He hates that nickname. Good luck.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Of course Karl called him that to his face.

Now that I knew to search the bar, it didn’t take long to notice the man at the very end, hunched over so his dark hair obscured his face.

I sauntered over, which was difficult, having to weave between the other patrons. As I drew closer, I noticed the stool next to Otho was taken, the dark-haired woman there leaning increasingly close, her hand dancing around his arm.