“Right. Well, if you’re going to go back up there, don’t return to my pub. I don’t want the drama.”
Betilda is passing behind me, on her way to her regular game of cards with her friends.
“I thought you adored drama, Cyrus,” she says in a stage whisper.
I give her an admonishing look. “Not this brand.”
She grins and heads off, and when I turn back around, the human who is friends with DeFleurtis is gone. Good riddance.
Trustan, my other orc employee, takes an order at the one table still waiting on food. The lad has it under control, so I decide it’s past time I have a drink and a game of my own. But not here. I need a break from my pub.
Two hours later,I’m seated at the Goat and Dragon. My head is pleasantly fuzzy from Grumlin’s fine ale, and I have Romulus, a gargoyle, and Argos, a minotaur, across the table from me. They’re about two cards away from losing every coin in play to me.
Argos pushes his glasses higher on his nose and studies his cards. “I don’t like my chances right now.”
“Stop using math to play cards, Argos,” I say. “It takes the fun out of it.”
“I can’t just stop thinking.”
“Try to be a little less intelligent, all right?” Rom asks, grinning. “We can’t compete with your genius brain.”
I take another card. An archer’s heart. I lay it out along with the rest of my hand. “Speak for yourself, Rom.”
The gargoyle and the minotaur set their hands on the table, face up. With his king’s sword and two fives, Argos was close to defeating me. But not close enough. Rom doesn’t even have a pair to his name. I gather the coins from the center of the table and slide them into my money pouch.
“Thank you, friends. I always enjoy playing cards with you two.”
Rom gives me a flat look. “Is that due to our sparkling companionship or because you destroy us every single time?”
“If I say both, will you stop asking?”
We laugh, and I deal out another hand.
I felt a kinship with Rom right away when he first arrived in Leafshire Cove. I think it’s the wings—we both know what it is to crave the open sky. Pixies and fairies have wings too, but theirs don’t allow soaring in the clouds. Pixie and fairy wings aren’t nearly as large or as strong as dragon shifter and gargoyle wings.
The fire crackles in the tavern’s massive hearth, and it’s really nice not to have to worry about the crowd or serving anyone. The tension in my shoulders eases as we play another hand, this time with fewer wilds and more ale.
Kaya’s concerned face flits through my head. Should I go back and see if she needs any night prep done for tomorrow’s baking? No, she had Tully and Laini there, and they were probably finished for the evening anyway. Plus, I have to limit the time I’m spending with Kaya or I’ll give myself away. I don’t know why she is so much on my mind these days. It’s childish of me to want her, to even think of ruining the solid friendship we have. I shake her from my mind and focus on my cards.
Rom takes off after an hour; he has to rise early for his job at the tower. Argos sticks with me, though, and we pick up a couple of travelers, dealing them in. It’s a fun night of lute music, me winning a great deal of small change, and laughs.
When I pay Grumlin and leave, I don’t feel tired enough for bed. I should sleep. It’s late. But the moon casts a long beam of silver light over the town, and I can see the faint outline of the ruins up on the hill beyond the western walls.
A shiver dances down my spine, and I head in that direction. If those humans can poke around without immediately dying, maybe we are all wrong about the curse?
I consider what DeFleurtis said about the old castle belonging to a dragon shifter. Maybe it’s safe for me because of my blood? I can’t deny that I’m insane with curiosity.
I trip over a shopping sack someone dropped in the market, then I pick it up, slinging it over my shoulder. Whistling, I make my way out of the town walls.
“We will be locking up in an hour!” the wall guard calls out.
I might be a little drunk. “I know, Whitby. I won’t be long.”
“I’m not Whitby!”
I blink up at the human leaning out of the gatehouse window. “Oh, sorry, Denian. You two look alike.”
“But he’s a goblin… You feeling all right, Cyrus?”
