Page 55 of Song of the Shadow Prince
I snapped my fingers. “Yes!” Walking over to a lit candle, I burned the letter to remove any evidence.
Maeve rushed toward me with a quizzical expression. “Why are you burning it?”
“I’m not leaving any clues behind for someone to stumble on. You never know who’s watching,” I muttered. After last night’s intrusion, I was nervous. Even now, Damien could be watching my every move.
“Who are you worried about?” Maeve questioned. “The vampires?”
I’d forgotten all about them. That was another problem I needed to solve if I was going to be stuck here much longer. Unless Garrick was about to send me back home, in which case I’d leave it for Arya to clean up her own mess.
“It’s not important. Will you help me get ready? We need to get to the Southern District to meet Garrick by noon.” I went to the dresser to pick out clothing. “And I don’t want to be late.”
Breezily offeringan excuse of meeting up with a few ladies from the Northern District, Maeve convinced Lord Zacharia to arrange a carriage for us. But instead of visiting Arya’s normal haunts in the genteel sector, we headed south to The Broken Tankard. This time, I didn’t marvel at the scenery, the marketplace, or the people. Instead, I anxiously sat in the carriage, twiddling my thumbs and wiping sweat from my palms.
Maeve furrowed her brows from where she sat across from me. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah, just nervous. I really want to go home. While it’s been nice kicking it with you, this world just isn’t for me.”
Maeve bit her lower lip and nodded. “I can imagine. What is your world like?”
I blew out a breath and leaned back against the cushioned seat. “Well, it’s much more modern than Elaria. We have a device called a television that shows movies and shows, sort of like the plays here, but everyone has this device in their homes where they can watch whenever and whatever they like. We also have these little machines called phones where instead of using ravens, you can call other people or send messages instantly. Honestly, I’m starting to realize how much we take for granted,” I murmured the last part.
Maeve’s mouth fell open. “Wow, that sounds… marvelous! I can’t imagine having that kind of power here. Do you know how these…machinesare made? Maybe we can—”
I shook my head and burst her bubble. “I don’t. Really smart people produce those things. But I wish I did know how to make them. I’d make a killing here!”
“Oh,” Maeve muttered, disappointed. “I wonder how my lady is doing in your world. She must be so scared, seeing all those fantastical things.”
I shrugged. “Maybe… maybe not. She could be having a blast. We also have this thing called the internet. It’s a fascinating place, and I imagine your Lady Arya would be an amazing internet troll.”
“A troll?” Maeve gasped.
I laughed and tried to wave away her dismay. “Oh, Maeve, please ignore me. I’m just talking shit.”
Maeve nodded slowly, certain she was talking to a madwoman.
The carriage rolled to a stop on Main Street and the driver shouted that we’d arrived. Bouncing down from his seat up front, he unfurled a small set of stairs for us to descend. Maeve went first and held out her hand to help me down. My feet touched the dusty ground and I looked up at The Broken Tankard.
The rickety tavern was situated just down the street from The Gilded Serpent. In the daytime, it appeared derelict and downtrodden, with its crooked sign creaking in the breeze and the smell of stale ale wafting out into the street. The last time we were here, it was evening and the place was packed, but now only a few stragglers darkened the interior, which made it easy to spot Garrick.
With my head high, I walked across the sticky floor and sat across from him, while Maeve sat between us. I pulled back the hood of my cloak and gave the warlock a smirk and a wave. “Hello there, friend.”
He offered a quick nod. His leather eye patch sat crookedly on his face. “My lady,” he said stiffly. “Thank you for meeting me so quickly.”
“I should be thanking you,” I said anxiously. “Especially if you have good news for me.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” He looked around the tavern and nervously leaned forward.
I frowned. “Youdon’thave good news?”
He coughed into his hand and looked between me and Maeve. “I have news, I just don’t know if it’s good or not.”
“Well…” I started, “let’s have it. What is it?”
Garrick cleared his throat and fiddled with the hem of his threadbare tunic. “Well… I traced the origin of the songs. The ones I mentioned that talk of travelers from another world.”
I raised a brow. “Oh… so the songs are not from here?”
“Yes… and no.”
