Page 113 of Only Flames Remain

Emrys and Valerian followed suit quietly.

I dropped further, circling over the city center as I formulated a plan.

Emrys had reported that Vash and his men were last seen at a tavern north of the docks. They had likely come into port and immediately searched for lodging and a hot meal for the night. It was still early in the day, though I couldn’t use the sun to determine exactly how long Vash had decided to linger in Southgate.

If they were smart, they would have already made for the Gothryn Palace. They would already be on the road.

But Vash had his vices.

He would have wanted to fill his belly and find a companion to warm his bed for at least a few hours before the next leg of his journey.

As we descended close enough to be spotted in the skies above, I switched to my human form. Emrys and Valerian did the same. Even with wings at our backs, we were far less conspicuous this way. It was no strange sight to see a dragon airborne in Gothryn, but I didn’t want to announce our arrival.

As Vireth, we were merely a spot among the clouds until we drew close enough to land. The cloud cover only added to our anonymity. We could easily be mistaken for a large bird from a distance.

I landed atop the clock tower, my wings batting quietly at my sides to slow my descent. Emrys and Valerian joined me, and we quickly descended the curved steps toward the ground level.

“You think they remain at the Gilded Ember? Filling their cups and enjoying the women Southgate has to offer?” Emrys called from the staircase behind me.

I nodded. “I do. You know Vash as well as I do. There is no way he would journey across the sea and not seek a little comfort on the other end.”

“Unless they took to the Faetide,” Valerian spoke for the first time. “Our spies did not see them at the Majur dockyards. A group as big as theirs would have been spotted. It is entirely possible they went through Lysvarin to take the long way around. To avoid being seen.”

I grunted. “Which would mean they have been traveling for weeks. All the more reason for them to stay put for more than a single night.”

Emrys hummed in agreement.

The Gilded Ember was north of the watchtower. We turned left toward the dockyards, filing out the door onto the cobbled streets of Southgate. The scent of salt air was fresh on the tip of my tongue, the impending storm ruffling my hair around my barely pointed ears. A warning prickled the back of my neck, but I did my best to ignore it.

I was always nervous before entering confrontation—it was nothing more than anxiety. Not that this would result in a skirmish, but I needed to be prepared, regardless. This could dissolve into a fight easily if Vash wouldn’t come with us willingly.

Though Vash was a powerful Vireth…he was no dragon. He stood no chance against us.

The citizens of Southgate recognized us, whispers following us as we descended toward the Gilded Ember. The way we were storming through the city streets, they were practically diving out of our way. They wanted to know why all three Blackwater princes had shown up in force.

I stopped for a moment before the heavy door to the tavern. My brows were drawn in the reflection of the antique glass of the entry, my hair tousled beyond any aid I could offer it.

With a deep inhale I pushed the door inward, only to find the tavern mostly empty. It had to be before noon, so that wasn’t terribly surprising. I nodded at the bartender who dropped the glass he was polishing. It cracked into a thousand shards against the worn wooden floorboards as he stared at us, mouth ajar.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of the esteemed Blackwater princes?” he asked, quickly regaining his composure.

He moved toward the front of the bar, ignoring the broken glass in favor of serving us.

“We are searching for someone. He is with a dozen or so men. He was here last night. About yay high.” I motioned with my hand that Vash was a solid head shorter than me. “Clean shaven, though he might not be at this point. Red hair. Crooked nose. Loud.”

“Ah! Yes, he was here last night. Though he does sport a rather unruly beard these days. I think they called him Ash? Bash?”

“Where is he?” I asked, patience wearing dangerously thin.

He had dared to turncoat and still show his face on Gothryn soil. He would pay dearly.

The barkeep nodded toward the spiral staircase at the back of the bar. “Too drunk to make it out of here last night, I’ll tell you that much. We only had the three rooms left. They are all piled up in there. Yvette can tell you which ones.”

“No need,” I told him. “Thank you.”

We would scent him out.

“My pleasure! Anything for the legendary brothers of Blackwater!” he called at our retreating backs. “Come back for a pint when you’re done!”