Page 83 of Faerie Hunted

“This isn’t what I thought it would be,” I muttered.

Onyx heard me. “It’s a restaurant.”

“He’s using the term loosely, of course,” Bronwen added.

“I don’t understand.” The door had been closed over and swollen from the proximity to the water, too out of whack to fully shut. “What would she be doing at a restaurant?”

“We go in and we find out.” Laina, determined as ever, adjusted her cowl and stepped up to the door.

One push and it swung open on squeaky hinges, announcing our arrival.

I caught the tail end of Onyx’s feral grin before he limped inside after her. “I could always eat.”

I shared the sentiment. We did need food. The dingy interior of the tavern invited strangers to claim a corner for their own and hide out among the din and gloom. The windows in front had been covered with inches of brine which filtered the sunlight into cool streams that barely penetrated the haze.

Most of the tables, even at this hour of the day, were lit with stubs of candles affixed to the tables with dried wax.

We grabbed a table near the door and sat ourselves.

From somewhere nearby, a man roared in laughter, the sound followed by the distinctive thud of a fist striking flesh. Someone else yelled in reproach before the first man could follow through on whatever hit had accompanied his laugh.

Three fishermen perched at the table beside ours. One of them had shaved one entire side of his head, and another had an array of fish hooks pressed through his left eyebrow. They stared at us. Knowing instinctively we were not the kind of patrons who frequented a place like this.

Felons. They looked like felons.

Well, we were in the same boat. We might not be rough and tumble but we were certainly on the run from the law of the land.

I scooted over when Noren nudged at my arm, making room for him beside me.

“Hi, welcome to the Black Dog.” A chipper young man came over with pad and pen to take our orders. “What can I get you to drink?”

Noren’s tongue lolled from his mouth and the poor guy didn’t even notice the direwolf until his paws scraped against the floor.

Blood leached from his face and rather than jumping, the way the tightening of his muscles indicated he wanted to do, the fellow took a massive step in the opposite direction.

I rested a hand on top of Noren’s head. “I hope you don’t mind. There wasn’t a sign about no animals allowed.”

The two of us watched him gulp over a huge knot in his throat like predators sizing up a tasty, easy treat.

“Waters,” he squeaked, the sound like air hissing through a balloon. “I’ll get you waters.”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone move so fast,” Mike commented as he watched the server’s hasty escape.

“Coming face to face with a direwolf will do that to a person,” Bronwen replied. “Even if he doesn’t look like one.”

Laina remained silent through the ordeal, her gaze sweeping the restaurant from the smoke-tinted rafters to the scuff marks on the floor. Searching the faces of every patron, every server.

Searching for my mother. So was I, but I didn’t see her. Or anyone who might be her. “Do you think the spell failed?”

She tensed at my question. “I’m not sure. I don’t see anyone who looks like you in this place.”

“You read my mind,” I muttered.

Mike scraped his palm against his chin. “It’s possible Tavi’s mom has disguised herself with a better spell than ours.”

“We haven’t really searched the place yet.” I craned my head to get a glimpse at a door set into the rear wall. “Maybe there’s a kitchen here and she’s working the stove. The spell might not be wrong.”

“I’m casting my power out in a net as we speak,” Laina whispered, dropping her tone. “I don’t dare risk doing more and drawing attention to us.”

---