Page 27 of Lightningborn

THIRTEEN

Ferus? What’s he doing here?

The owner of the Salty Barrel tavern turned in a slow circle, beady eyes peering into the cracks and shadows of the room. Remy’s heart pounded, and he felt Storm press close as Ferus began a slow, unhurried walk toward the wall where the tunnel was. Remy skittered back, scraping his arms and knees on the stone floor, as the tavern owner drew close. His muddy, booted feet stopped just a few paces away from the entrance to the hole, and he tapped one foot against the floor in thought.

“Hmm, what are you hiding down here, Bart?” Ferus mused to himself. His soft, nasally voice made Remy’s skin crawl. “I wonder, could it be something scaly and worth a lot of money? Have you been holding out on me?”

Remy held his breath, Storm frozen against his side. The feet paused a moment more, then took a deliberate step toward the hole. One knobby knee hit the stones as Ferus started to bend down to peer into the tunnel.

“Ferus!”

The little man jerked up as a voice boomed through the chamber. He quickly sprang to his feet as Bart strode into the cave, scowling. The old man held a greasy brown-paper package beneath his arm, tied with string. Storm squirmed hungrily, recognizing their dinner for the night, but Remy was more relieved to see Bart.

“Oh,” Ferus exclaimed as he strode away from the hole. For a moment, his beady eyes glinted in annoyance, his thin mouth pressed into a tight line, but the look was gone in the next heartbeat as he smiled widely at Bart. “Thereyou are, my friend. I was looking for you.”

“Looking for me,” Bart repeated in a dubious voice. “I just left the Salty Barrel a few minutes ago. In fact, Itoldyou I was leaving for the night, and you still had customers when I left. Why are you here?”

“Ah, well…” Ferus scratched the back of his skinny neck, as if trying to think quickly. “I was worried about you, Bart,” he wheedled. “Your dragon stories have never been so popular, but you haven’t bought a drink from me in days. You’re getting plenty of coin from all those pirates looking for the dragon, but you haven’t purchased a single bottle since Jhaeros walked into the tavern that night. So”—he held up a dirty green bottle in one hand—“I thought I would bring you something. Sort of a thank-you, to my favorite customer.”

“Hmm, the cheapest bottle of penny grog you have,” Bart said flatly. “What a gift.” But he reached out and grasped the neck of the bottle with his free hand, slipping it into the pocket of his long coat. “But I don’t see why you couldn’t have given it to me at the tavern,” he went on, “instead of snooping around my house.”

“So, Bart, my friend, I was wondering.” Ferus completely ignored the last question. His beady eyes shifted to the parcel in Bart’s other hand. “If you’re not buying drink, what are you spending all that money on?”

“That’s not any of your business,” Bart growled.

“Isn’t that a package from Jon the butcher?” Ferus’s voice was curiously ruthless. “Is that meat? What are you buying at the butcher’s stall that you can’t get from me?”

“A link of sausage that isn’t fifty percent rat,” Bart said shortly. “I have to eat, too, you know.” He slipped the parcel into his other pocket, hiding it from view. “Now, if you’re finished here, you can leave. My throat is dry from telling stories about dragons. I need to rest.”

“You wouldn’t know anything about this dragon, would you?” Ferus eyed Bart’s coat pocket, then gazed suspiciously around the cavern. Remy bit his lip and pretended to be a rock. “I know you said you haven’t seen it, but Jhaeros stopped by again the other evening, waving bags of gold around and asking if anyone had made any progress finding his dragon. Got the crowd riled up all over again. If you have seen the creature, or know anything about its whereabouts, we could be rich men.”

“Do you see a dragon around here?” Bart snapped, waving a hand at the seemingly empty cave. “Just because I have the only house attached to a cave in Cutthroat Wedge doesn’t mean there’s a dragon in it. If you don’t recall, I want nothing to do with lizards, and even less to do with pirates. I’m certainly not going to go crawling through every hole and passage in Cutthroat Wedge searching for the scaly rat.”

“You say that now,” Ferus said, frowning. He lifted a thin, dirty finger and pointed it accusingly in Bart’s direction. “But I remember when you first came here, Crusty Bart. I remember that weak, sick, penniless sky knight, searching for a captain to sail him into the Maelstrom. Sky-mad, he was. So ill and confused he couldn’t even see straight. I took pity on you, because if I didn’t help, you would’ve probably stumbled off the edge in a drunken stupor. You’re still alive now because of me.”

Bart’s face went dark. “You ‘helped’ me by letting me pass out on the cot in the root cellar of the tavern,” he snarled. “And when I was well enough to leave, you told me I owed you a debt for food and board, and if I couldn’t pay, you would have me thrown in jail. I started telling stories at the tavern just to pay off what I owed you, and I never left.” Bart curled his lip at Ferus, disgust clearly written on his weathered face. “I’ve wasted my life on this mud-covered rock,” he growled. “I used to be something. I had dreams of seeing the Ancients, of discovering new lands and battling pirates, of doing something that mattered. Then I landed here, and all those hopes were buried under mud, and ale, and the stink of corruption and greed that clings to every fiber of this place.” Bart gave a heavy, disgusted sigh and shook his head. “What happened to me?” he muttered, taking a step back and gazing around the cave. “What am I even doing here?”

As he watched him, Remy’s eyes got huge, his mouth hanging open in shock. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Bart had been asky knightonce? He’d had a dragon of his very own? Remy felt like the world had just been turned on its head. Bart had never spoken to him of his past, or how he’d come to Cutthroat Wedge. If anyone had asked Remy about it, he would’ve said the old man had always been there.

Clearly, he didn’t know Crusty Bart at all.

Ferus sniffed, looking like a rodent searching for crumbs. “All I did was put a roof over your head in your time of need,” he said. “I was being charitable, but I couldn’t do it for free, of course. I had expenses. Anyway, just think about what I said, Bart. If you do find out anything about that dragon, let me know. Why, with the money Jhaeros is offering, you couldbuya ship to sail out of here. Let that sink in, eh?”

“Get out,” Bart spat, and pointed to the door. “Leave my house, you greasy little parasite, and don’t come back.”

Ferus gave an oily smile, then sauntered from the cave. Remy watched as he strode across the room to the door, opened it, and paused in the frame. His beady eyes scanned the cavern once more, as if he were hoping to catch a glimpse of something that was hidden. His gaze passed over the hole where Remy was pressed to the floor with Storm trembling against his side. But then it continued on, and after a moment, the tavern owner turned and swept through the frame. The door creaked shut behind him, and Bart was left standing alone in the cave.

Bart paused for a long time, his gaze firmly fixed on the door, as if he were making certain Ferus wasn’t lurking just outside, peering through a crack. When over ten seconds had passed, he whirled and glared angrily around the cave.

“Boy! Where are you?”

Wincing, Remy scrambled from the tunnel, scraping his hands and knees as he wriggled free, with Storm beside him. Seeing them, Bart relaxed, though his face was pulled into a dark scowl.

“There you are! What happened? Did Ferus see the dragon?”

Remy shook his head as Storm squeaked and bounded up to Bart, wings fluttering excitedly. “Storm found a tunnel into another part of the cavern,” he explained. “I went after him, and Ferus was already in the cave when we came back.”

Bart shook his head. “I regret ever telling him where I live,” he muttered. “At the time, I really did think he was helping me. If I’d truly known what a greedy lamprey he was, I wouldn’t have told him anything.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew the lumpy parcel with a sigh.

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