I blink at her. “You do realise there are delicate, innocent ears in here?”
Molsi snorts. “Delicate where? You think Fringt’s innocence is still intact after he tried to cook with that expired root rot last week?”
“Fringt tried to what?” I cringe. “Why didn’t I hear about that?”
“Because you’ve been too busy playing Glowranth snugglepuff,” Decca says, flicking her four-fingered hands at me like I’m smoke in her kitchen.
I slide onto a stool at the far counter and swipe a crusty roll from the tray. “Snugglepuff, really?”
“Your glow tells me all I need to know,” Molsi mutters, then gives me a once-over. “Plus, it’s the eyes. All soft and smug. And don’t think I can’t feel the Kael-vibes radiating off you. It’s like being stalked by warm thunder.”
I groan and let my head drop dramatically to the table. “I hate how emotionally perceptive you two are.”
“No, you don’t,” Decca replies. “You love us. And you’re gonna love us even more once we fill you in.”
I lift my head, one brow raised. “Oh?”
Decca and Molsi exchange a look, then lean in with matching grins.
“Zeyv’s causing trouble,” Molsi says, voice low. “More than usual.”
“Apparently,” Decca adds, “he’s still reeling after yesterday.”
I can’t help the grin that forms. Kicking his arse was pretty awesome.
Decca rolls her eyes. “Yes, he’s not happy about that, but he’s focussing on complaints about the royal Glowranth and guard being here.”
I sigh, not surprised but wishing Zeyv would wind his neck in. “How much of a dick is he being?”
“He’s not standing up and talking shit in public,” Molsi says. “Yet. But there’s rumbling. It’s not just the usual passive-aggressive stink-eye either. They’re spreading the idea that Varek’s gone soft. That he’s giving the enemy a foothold.”
I huff. “Typical Zeyv bullshit. Varek can be diplomatic and terrifying. Just because he’s not decapitating people every Tuesday doesn’t mean he’s losing his edge.”
Decca slides a plate towards me stacked with smoked meat slices and roasted gukleweed. “You might want to tell the camp that. Because a few folks are listening to Zeyv.”
I chew that over. Figuratively and literally. Thegukleare crispy on the outside and buttery in the middle—how the hell do these two make everything taste like a hug? Okay, maybe that’s just my postorgasmic state talking. They’ve served several more-than-questionable meals.
It’s too early for a camp-wide PR campaign, though, when it comes to making it clear that Varek is the dog’s bollocks. And honestly, I’ve got bigger fish to fry.
Jack. Solan. Their theory.
Someone pulling the strings on the rifts. Deliberately? I’ve barely scratched the surface of what that could mean, and the implications are spinning around my skull like chaos on a carousel.
I exhale slowly and glance at the small satchel I brought with me. “I’m going to be late,” I mumble, grabbing two rolls and an extra slice of meat. “If you see Kael before I do, feed him.”
Molsi raises a brow. “You’re waiting on him now?”
“Obviously,” I say, loading up a cloth with the food. “He needs looking after. Plus, I might be a little obsessed. Or stupid. Or both.”
Decca smirks. “Both.”
“Gee, thanks.”
I’m halfway to the door when I pause, glance over my shoulder, and grin. “But seriously—Fringt tried to cook what?”
Molsi groans. “Don’t ask. Just know it involved tentacles and nearly melted a pot.”
I let out a strangled laugh and wave them off, heading towards Varek’s war room over at the bowling alley.
