Page 29 of Ashen Wings

“So, how can I help?” Abe asks, taking a seat on an old stool. The legs squeal as he settles, like they’re about ready to give out.

“We’re looking for a certain Tanner Pyris out of Storm. Have you seen him?” Isra asks, taking his pint from the barkeep who’s returned to us with a permanent scowl spread over his lips.

“If you mean the lad that’s been running his mouth since he got into town about all his dragonstones and stolen stipen, then yes, he’s holing out downstairs. Insufferable man if I’m being honest,” Abe replies. He takes a sip of his own drink, drawing his eyes over my shrouded features. “I’ll take you to him, but what do you want from some slimy thief?”

“You know we can’t tell you that, Abe,” Roe says, her knuckles sliding against the bar. She shifts from one foot to the other, antsy and flushed. Is she…nervous? My gaze snags on the necklace that’s come loose from under her dark navy tunic. Its gold-plated pendant—a wreath of juniper encircling a simple sapphire stone—scrapes over the bar top as she stretches over and pours herself a refill from the tap.

“I know, I know. Just figured this time might be different.” Abe crosses his arms. “He’s got a few cronies with him. Beefy guys. Be careful down there, alright?”

Somehow I don’t think Abe is directing those words of warning to me, or Isra for that matter. Roe’s eyes soften for the briefest of glimpses, then it’s gone. So she does have a heart under those murderous little layers.

“We’ll be fine,” Roe says, and I share a look with Isra. “If I can take this brute down in hand-to-hand, a few cronies aren’t a concern.”

Abe snorts and sips his ale. “I don’t doubt it. Alright, finish up and I’ll take you downstairs.”

We drain our glasses and return them to the ever-scowling bartender, leaving a few stipen on the bar for him. The patrons divide as we cross and start down another narrow corridor of spiderwebs and mouse shit. My skin crawls as I step over a petrified rodent skeleton, decayed enough to know a washed floor is long overdue.

Sweat beads on my brow, and we descend a spiraling stairwell to the lowest level of the bar. When I said back rooms, I didn’t mean a godsdamned dungeon, but here we are.

The landing is coated in icy dust, and my breath fogs the air as we approach two adjacent doors—both closed, both uninviting as fuck. Gnarled, knotted wood peeks from under a layer of green paint.

My fingers fidget over my empty sheathe as Abe knocks on the one to my left with three succinct thrums. Jace and his companions don’t trust me enough to return my weapons, and they shouldn’t, but entering this grungy shithole without even a dagger feels wrong.

“It’s just me, thought I’d check if you needed anything, Tanner,” he says, turning the tarnished handle. The door creaks as it swings open. Tobacco smoke pours from the room’s entrance in heavy, saturated tendrils, and we follow Abe’s lead.

“Abe, good man, you brought the entertainment?” A reptilian man washes his eyes over me with a greasy grin spreading over his lips. He’s flanked by two mountains of sheer muscle and insecure masculinity. The clean-shaven brute with green eyes to Tanner’s left, grunts in delight as he too inspects us.

“We’re not here to entertain you,” Roe hisses, her fingers dancing over the dagger concealed on her hip. “We’ve got some questions.”

Tanner’s expression goes sour. “I don’t pay Abe here for interrogations. Now, get out. I’m very busy.”

The beastly man to Tanner’s right cracks his thick knuckles. I almost slip out a laugh at just how absurd these three idiots are. Maybe I didn’t need a blade after all, none of them look like they’re trained in advanced combat maneuvers.

“So quick to run your mouth, but the minute we come calling you get all quiet.” Roe closes the distance between us and the table, laid with various empty bottles and cigarette ash. “Did you really think Jace Ashborne wouldn’t know the second you crossed over his border? Come on now…we have a few questions then we’ll be on our way.”

A glass shatters somewhere above.

“Ah fuck, that was probably Janisburn. I should make sure he’s not about to torch the place again. We just finished the repairs. Isra you mind being backup?” Abe asks, and the two disappear through the doorway. Again? How rowdy does this place get?

The brief distraction has given Roe an opportunity to unsheathe her dagger. I turn back toward Tanner and my shoulders tense. The green-eyed brute has his blade pointed toward her, his companion’s toward me.

“Pull a blade on me like that again and I’ll take a finger,” Roe seethes, keeping her dagger raised and ready.

“We just want to ask you some questions,” I say. My attempt at cooling the volatile fire, so easily sparked, is met with a warning glare from Roe.

“Such vile words from those pouty lips of yours, darling. I’m not answering a fucking thing,” Pyris sniffs, lacing his hands behind his back. The candles flicker around us with an ever growing tension, thick enough to tingle my fingertips.

“Roe…” I hiss. She’s so quick to jump into violence, but I’ve dealt with criminals like this enough times to know my way around an interrogation—calculated ego-stroking and blade drawn only as a last resort, but Roe jumped right in. We’re so fucked.

She again throws me a death glare. “Alright Pyris, I’ll give you one more chance. Sheathe your blade and sit the fuck down.”

“Hmm.” Pyris strokes his chin. “How about not.”

“Roe…” I try again. She glances at me, and in the briefest of moments, Pyris is left unattended.

“Drop the knife, princess,” Tanner says.

Roe’s eyes widen. “Wha-what did you just call me?”