Page 20 of The Demons in the Deep: Extended Edition
“All right, inside before you drop everything.” Mai pushed open the inn door and held it for the two men as they stumbled through.
She’d never seen an inn with a common room as large as this one. Of course, her only experience was the inn of The Three Cherries back home on Kiken Island, which saw few guests and did most of its business serving the townspeople Kestra’s fine cooking. The common room of the Lionstooth Inn seemed to go on and on, deeper and deeper into the building, like a cave of glossy beams and dark-paneled walls. Iron sconces held globes of frosted glass with glimmering flames cupped inside them. The place smelled of smoke and spices, of leather chairs and polished wood.
Against one wall stood a high desk. The skinny elderly man behind it peered at Mai through a brass-rimmed monocle. “Rooms?” he said.
“We’re here with Captain Flay’s crew.” Mai’s heart was still brimming with excited energy, but she felt shy, too, and a little shaky from hunger.
“Ah, yes. Third floor rooms have been reserved for your party.” The old man spoke slowly, with a precision that reminded Mai painfully of the way Rake enunciated. He was used to vocalizing his consonants crisply so they would travel clearly underwater, and the habit had followed him above the surface as well.
She forced the memory of his voice aside, focusing hard on the ship’s wheel attached to the wall near the desk.
“The other lady is already here.” The monocled man raised his voice and frowned, apparently disliking Mai’s lack of attention. “Room Eleven. The other rooms on that hall have been opened as well, for the crew.”
“Thank you.” Turning, Mai found that Corklan and Baz were already staggering up the stairs. They managed to make it all the way to the third floor without dropping more than two packages, and she followed them into Room Eleven, where both sailors set down their burdens with gusty sighs.
“You’re big strong crewmen,” Kestra said from her reclining spot on one of the beds. “Surely my little cousin didn’t tire you outthatmuch.”
Mai gave the sailors a sheepish grin. “Thank you, boys.”
“Anytime, miss,” said Corklan. “Will you be coming to the pub for dinner?”
“I think so, and soon. I’m starving.”
“Good,” he said. “Would you like to—”
“—sit with me!” interjected Baz.
Corklan glowered at him. “You rutting bastard.”
“I can sit between you two,” offered Mai helpfully.
Corklan nodded, relaxing a little. “We’ll wash up and see you down there, then.”
Once the sailors had trooped out, Kestra quirked an eyebrow at Mai. “Do you really want to sit between those two?”
“No.” Mai flopped down onto the other bed and groaned with utter relief. “But they helped me, and I hate seeing them fight. Morrow and main, I didn’t realize how tired my feet were.”
“You’ve been trekking around the market all day.” Kestra yawned. “Flay and I walked there a while after meeting his horrible father.”
Mai listened as Kestra told of the meeting and Feral’s intervention. When Kestra mentioned a winged slave, Mai’s stomach thrilled. She sat bolt upright.
“A Sky-born?” she squeaked. “A real winged person? What did their body look like? Are their bones hollow? How are the feathers arranged? Can the wings shed water, or do they absorb it? And the eyes, are they—”
“Tides, Mai, slow down,” said Kestra. “I only saw him for a moment, and he was so beautiful and sad, I didn’t really notice anything else, except that he was shorter than me—probably about your height—and extremely thin.”
“The lower the weight, the better for flight,” Mai exclaimed. Her heart was skittering under her ribs, and her head felt weirdly light. Perhaps she’d had enough excitement for one day—at least until she got some food.
Kestra was looking at her strangely. “I know you’re enthusiastic about other species,” she said. “But did you miss the part where the poor creature was aslave? Feral caught him and chained him. Pinned his wings so he can’t fly and escape. It’s horrible.”
“Of course it’s horrible,” Mai said. “But let me remind you that we captured a mermaid and put her in a cage. And you slit her throat yourself.”
“That was different.” Kestra’s mouth tightened. “The mermaids were rabid carnivores, consuming anything and everything in the ocean, including people. Including Jazadri’s brother and my own father, your uncle. They weremonsters.”
“Not all of them.” The words burst hot and painful from Mai’s chest, and they hung in the air between her and Kestra, quivering with tension and memory.
“I know,” Kestra said slowly. “He was—special.”
Mai felt a sharp prickle in her nose, the sign of oncoming tears, and she blinked hard. “We should eat something before I faint.”
