Page 72 of Tusks, Tails & Teacakes
The Tiefling reared back as if she’d struck him. “He didn’t die by the sword?”
Lira shook her head. “I’ve told you all I know.”
Vaskel hunched forward with both forearms on the table, his head bowed between them. “First Malek and now Pirrin.”
She put a hand over one of his. “It’s bad luck.”
Vaskel growled at this. “Like hells it is. It’s those wraiths.”
The tankard that Sass had been lowering to the table bobbled and thunked, some of the foam sloshing over the side. “I’m sorry. Did you say wraiths?”
Forty-Two
Sass pulleda cloth from her waist and dabbed at the foam she’d spilled on the table. "Wraiths?"
Lira shot Vaskel a warning look, but the Tiefling only crossed his arms, his magenta skin darkening with conviction.
"Wraiths," he repeated, his icy eyes glinting in the low light of the tavern. "The oath-breaking spirits we encountered in the ruins."
"He's not serious," Lira said quickly, her voice carrying more confidence than she felt. "Vaskel is just upset about our friend Pirrin, which is understandable."
But even as she spoke the words, a shiver slithered down her spine. She pushed away the memory of those ghostly warriors with theirtranslucent bodies and rotting armor, the way their hollow eyes had locked onto her as they'd materialized in the throne room of the cursed castle.
"Those wraiths were bound to the castle, cursed to remain where they betrayed their oath." She leaned forward, lowering her voice. "They can't just travel across the Known Lands, killing off members of our former crew. That's not how curses work."
Sass hadn’t moved, and her head swung between the two as they argued.
Vaskel's tail lashed against the wooden chair leg, his sharp teeth pressing into his bottom lip. "Then how do you explain what happened? Pirrin was a fighter, one of the best swordsmen I've ever known. He wouldn't just die without a mark on him."
"People die mysteriously all the time," Lira said, though the words sounded hollow even to her own ears.
“Not Pirrin.”
Vaskel was right. Pirrin’s death didn’t make sense, and it unnerved her.
She put a hand over his, the flesh so hot she almost flinched. “I miss him too, but us fighting won’t bring him back.”
Vaskel’s shoulders sagged, the tight set of his jaw relaxing. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You aren’t the reason he’s gone.”
Lira wasn’t, but she couldn’t help wondering if Pirrin would still be alive if their crew had stayed together. The pain of that thought made her jerk her head away. Her gaze caught on Durn standing behind the bar, and she nearly did a double take.
The tavernkeeper's usually wild mustache was neatly trimmed and combed, and his typically stained shirt looked freshly cleaned. Even more surprising was the sight of Penny, the chandler, leaning against the bar, her ample curves accentuated by a dress that certainly hadn't been made for working with tallow and wax.
"Speaking of working miracles." Lira caught Sass’s eye and nodded toward the bar. "Your matchmaking seems to be paying off."
Sass followed her gaze, and a triumphant grin split her face. "Wouldyou look at that? Durn actually took my advice about grooming that mop on his face." She gave a self-satisfied nod. "The man just needed a reason to care again."
"And it looks like Penny might be that reason.”
She could see the gnome’s lavender hair coiffed in an elaborate updo, and even from this distance, the sparkle of what might be a new brooch pinned to her bodice.
The pleasant warmth of the scene evaporated instantly as the tavern door swung open with enough force to rattle the hinges. The buzz of conversation dropped to a murmur, then to silence as Rygor stepped inside, his black wings tucked close to his lanky frame but still visible beneath his cloak.
Penny's face blanched, and she scurried away from the bar as the wyvern stomped across the tavern floor, his clawed feet scraping against the wooden planks. Durn's newly groomed mustache did nothing to improve his scowl as Rygor planted both hands on the bar and leaned forward.
"I warned you, Durn," the wyvern's voice carried easily in the hushed room. "I said you couldn’t hide it from me."
"And I told you," Durn retorted, his shoulders bunching with tension, "I’m not hiding anything."
