His face twisted until he looked utterly disgusted. “Please never say the word balls to me again.”
I lifted my cup to my mouth. “Balls.”
“I actually hate you.”
“You don’t at all, that’s what really bothers you.”
He held up a hand. “How many fingers do you see?”
“At least seven.”
“Perfect.” He rose from his seat. “Let’s go do something stupid.”
I nodded, not even bothering to contemplate. “Famous last words. I’m in.”
He swung an arm over my shoulder as we walked out of the tavern, words slurring as we swayed back and forth. “I was kidding, you know. You’re my favorite. Don’t tell the kid though. She’s my other favorite.”
“Careful, Toes, your bond is showing.”
“Oh, gods. I just remembered. Is this the broken carriage?”
“Don’t you start with that again.”
He pressed a hand to his chest. “It was a catastrophic loss. A historic event. Bards will sing about the day you took down a whole damn carriage with your?—”
“I swear to every god, if you finish that sentence, I will push you into the nearest river.”
“I’m a fair swimmer, might be worth it.” We hopped into the carriage and waited several moments before he snorted and got back out. “Forgot I was the driver.”
“Where are we going anyway?” I asked, following him to the front of the carriage so we could sit on the box seat.
“You said Alastor was meeting with a bunch of gods when you were there, right?”
Sylvie stirred at the mention of her parents, but I ignored the claws in my mind. I’d grown used to them and the alcohol helped. “Oh, okay, so we’re going to get ourselves killed. Great.”
“You’re so dramatic,” Archer said, cracking the reins.
“How the hell did this night go from finding you a wife to gallivanting through the Vale?”
“Magic.”
The carriage wobbled as Archer steered it through the streets. Somehow, we managed to avoid running over any pedestrians, though I’m pretty sure we clipped at least one fruit stand before we abandoned the damn thing and began crashing through the narrow winding alleys to get to the Vale. Archer’svoice ricocheted off the close buildings as he sang a song that made absolutely no sense, but rhymed, and more than once I slipped and he had to keep me from falling.
When we arrived at the entrance, the same guard who was always there stood with his arms crossed, looking bored and irritated.
“You again,” he grumbled when he saw Archer. “Thought I made myself clear last time.”
I stepped forward, stumbling slightly but recovering with what I was pretty sure was grace.
“Is that any way to greet old friends?” Archer asked.
“We’re not friends.”
“Not with that attitude.” I grinned, letting the Remnants swirl around my feet. “But we could be.”
The guard’s eyes widened as the shadows climbed up his legs, not hurting, merely… exploring. Like curious pets checking out a newcomer.
“What are you?—”
