“Yala,” he muttered.
“Great. Well, Yala, I’m looking for a dragon-shifter with silver hair.”
“The one that wanted all those shoes?”
“Shoes? Um, sure. Have you seen him down here?”
Yala blinked slowly before shaking his head. “I remember nothing past waking up this morning.”
Beside me, the tavern owner groaned, and struggled to his feet. “Wha… what’s going on?”
“So you weren’t lying,” a feminine voice called. I turned to see a statuesque woman with long silver hair and matching horns standing outside of the cage. Kohara glanced around the room of cages with clear disgust.
“I’m not,” I snapped, turning to her. “Will you stop trying to kill me?”
The barest hint of a smile tugged at her lips. “For now.”
Great first impression.
“Snack,” she called, turning back to me.
“Cherry,” I corrected.
“Disregard the others for now and focus on finding my brother.”
Rage simmered in the pit of my stomach. “You expect me to just leave them?”
“Not for long,” she sighed, placing a hand on her hip. “I’ll find whoever’s controlling the magic and kill them. But that’s going to be a lot harder to do if I have to babysit my brother’s wife. So find him, rub that cinnamon on his face, and stay out of my way.”
“You are just lovely,” I drawled.
“I am, aren’t I?” she said with a serene smile. Kohara reached into the cinnamon bag and put some of it in her mouth. “You two, if you want to live through the day, make sure she does.” Her tone came out light and breezy, but Yala tensed behind me. His eyes never left her back as she left.
“Bit of a character, that one,” I muttered.
I picked up the trident and headed out of the cage, pausing when I noticed both of them struggling behind me. “If you’re too tired, just stay here.”
Yala snorted. “And piss off that dragoness? There are easier ways to die, lass.”
Can’t argue with that logic.
The spitaur wobbled, before catching himself on the bars of the cage. “We’ll be fine. Just lead the way.”
“Right,” I said, peering down the hallway. “Let’s check further down while everyone is distracted outside. What’s your name?” I asked, offering my arm when the spitaur stumbled again.
He took a deep breath and rubbed the remaining cinnamon off his nose. “Cyser.”
Footsteps pounded toward us. “We got company,” Yala called, stepping in front of me. I peered over his side to see a guard sprinting toward us. The orc cracked his knuckles before he took a fighting stance. “If you wanna dance, then bring it on!”
The guard didn’t slow from his breakneck pace. He cast a glance behind him before tripping as he tried swerving around Yala. He went down hard, his armor scraped against the stone floor as his spear caught on the bars of the cage beside him. He scrambled up, forgoing his fallen spear to burst through the doors. No sooner had he stepped outside, a demon bee swooped down and carried him off, screaming.
Yala crossed his arms with a satisfied grin. “Huh, guess I scared him off.”
Cyser rolled his eyes. “I imagine whatever he was running from scared him off, you oaf.” He shoved passed Yala to grab the fallen spear. “Let’s just hope for our sake, it’s just another demon.”
Yala’s lips pursed, then glanced down at me and shrugged. “Well, I bet I scared him a little bit.”
“I’d be terrified,” I offered. Shuffling footsteps accompanied by pained groans rose from the end of the hallway. Through the dim torchlight, I could make out the silhouette of more men rounding the corner.
