Page 124 of Echoes of the Raven
“Cuervo!” I crouch to rub his neck. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“Stupid chicken! You’re going to give us away,” Jago hisses.
“No, it’s fine,” Galen says. “No one can hear him. He’s within our aura of silence.”
Galen crouches next to me. “He yours?”
“No, he’s notmine. He’s my friend.” I glare at him.
The sorcerer stretches to his full height and huffs. “Women.”
“Let’s go inside,” Rífíor urges.
“I’ll see you later, Cuervo. I missed you.” I wish he could go inside, but I doubt the owners would like it.
The inn’s tavern is quiet with only Francisca and her husband standing behind the counter. He rests his chin heavily on his hand, looking bored, wiping the counter with his free hand, going over the same spot over and over. Next to him, his wife sews a pair of old pants while she hums a tune.
We walk in, the thick wooden door whining on its hinges. They don’t look in our direction and continue with their tasks none-the-wiser.
The steps creak as we climb.
“Damn guardias!” the man harrumphs. “They ruined business on one of the best days of the year.”
“At least no one’s dead,” his wife replies.
“Yet,” he puts in.
We enter the small bedroom. It is as we left it.
Jago glances around. “There’s only one bed. We can’t all sleep here.”
“We’ll make do,” Rífíor says.
“I’ve been sleeping on the ground for two weeks,” Jago protests. “Tonight, I plan to sleep on a bedandon a full stomach. I’ve had quite the day, as I mentioned. Anyone else with me?”
“Now,” Galen says, “a man after my own heart.” He thumps my cousin’s back.
“Galen,” Rífíor complains.
“Don’t worry,Your Majesty,” the sorcerer says.“This entire inn has been erased from existence. No one will disturb us.”
“Fantástico!” Jago exclaims. “This guy is like Gaspar imbued with strength from SanChristopher.”
Galen throws an arm over Jago and starts leading him out the door. “I think you and I are going to get along. Jago, right?”
My cousin grins and nods.
“Besides, I have a feeling these two havea lotto talk about.” Galen hooks a thumb over his shoulder, pointing at us.
“You have no idea,” Jago says.
I want to smack him. He’s supposed to be on my side, and instead, he’s making friends with the fae sorcerer? Traitor.
Not that Galen is wrong. Rífíor and I have to talk. A momentous decision lies ahead of me. If he still needs my help, is it wise for me to reopen the veil? Or should I refuse and protect my realm from his wrath?
In the end, Jago redeems himself. “If you hurt her again, fae,” he tells Rífíor over his shoulder, “you’ll answer to me.”
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