His gaze had already turned to the sturdy wooden tavern door. Hopefully, Tor was waiting at a table inside.
Tibris slid Demos a concerned look. We’d told him what we knew of Tor, but it was clear he was also unused to Demos’s grim silence.
The tavern door hung open, anchored by a large rock. Demos lifted his head, and we followed him inside. Nerves fluttered in my stomach.
Long tables, worn smooth by the passage of time— and countless elbows—were clustered together across the wooden floor, surrounded by smaller circular tables wedged against walls and windows. It was nearing the midday meal, and villagers and travelers alike had gathered to eat and lift a cup.
It felt strange, to suddenly be confined within a room of people after so long traveling and living in the camp. The noise seemed to swell, and I gritted my teeth through it as Demos scanned the room, his expression intent.
The bar itself—a solid slab of oak staffed by a scowling innkeeper—was lined with an array of mugs, continually lifted and carried by a tired-looking barmaid.
Demos turned away, and Tibris and I followed him to one of the small, circular tables in the back.
A cloaked figure waited. He lifted his head, and both men went still.
His nose had been broken at least once, his hazel eyes were shadowed, and he needed a shave. But I could make out smile lines around his mouth.
Someone burst into laughter a few tables to our left, the sound sudden enough that it seemed to snap whatever tension had caused both men to freeze. Tor got to his feet as we approached, clasping Demos’s hand. After an awkward moment during which it seemed as if both men considered and rejected the thought of a hug, we were all quickly seated, and Tibris and I were introduced. I blew out an unsteady breath. So far, so good.
Tor nodded at us, but his gaze met Demos’s.
“You’re alive.”
Demos nodded. “I didn’t know it at the time…didn’t know it until my sister appeared in the dungeon, but Telean had been forced to work as the queen’s seamstress. She convinced her to let me live.”
Tor nodded. But he didn’t say a word. I shifted on my wooden stool.
It was Tibris who cleared his throat. “We’re here to ask for your help.”
Another nod.
We told him everything we knew.
“You truly believe I can help with Regner’s wards.” From the tone of his voice, Tor either didn’t believe us or didn’twantto believe us.
“I know you can,” Demos said. “To this day, I’ve never come across anyone else with your particular power.”
Tor took a deep breath. And his gaze was steady. “I can’t fight in your war.”
A leaden weight had taken up residence in my gut. One chance. We had one chance to kill Regner.
“You mean you won’t,” Demos said.
Tor narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat. “I have children now, Demos. Everyone we loved from that time is dead. You may have moved on, may have created a new family and forgotten what happened to the people who trusted you the most, but I haven’t.”
My nails dug into the wooden table beneath my hands. “Watch your mouth,” I snapped.
Tor glanced at me. “It’s only a matter of time before he gets you killed. You may be willing to lose your life for this, but my children need a father.”
“And what will happen when war comes for your children?” Demos asked. “Do you think you’ll be able to keep them safe? Your family could have a home. In our kingdom, Tor.”
He shook his head, his mouth trembling once before he thinned it. “We spoke about that for years. And I never saw that kingdom. All I saw was our friends arrested. I heard their screams when they burned.”
Demos flinched. This waskillinghim.
My hands began to shake, my entire body stiffening until my muscles felt frozen.
“And where were you when he was rotting in that cell?” I hissed. “Mybest friend broke in to the castle and saved our lives. What did you do, except turn and run? Did you enjoy building your new life, while knowing Demos would never experience such joy again? Did you even think of him?”