Page 24 of The Study of Fire
“That would be lovely, thank you.” A chill had settled into his bones despite being on the move all night. He avoided wearing his cloak for ops requiring stealth, it was too cumbersome. He’d layered extra clothing under his uniform and had a hat, but it hadn’t been enough. Guess it was time to pull out his wool leggings and shirts.
The man disappeared into the kitchen, and Valek sat at the table that was the farthest from the door. He kept his back to the wall as he studied the room. The scarred and stained tables had been built with thin wood. Broken stools outnumbered the intact ones. No pictures hung on the walls, and the floor was just hardpacked dirt. Rusted lanterns lined the bar—or what had been the bar—but now appeared to be a storage area. There were three entrances to the room—the main door, the kitchen door, and a stairway in the corner that probably led up to the guest rooms.
The innkeeper returned with a mug of steaming tea and set it down.
“The Sole is an interesting name for an inn. It’s why I stopped in,” Valek said. He sipped the tea and was surprised by its robust flavor. “Is there a story behind it?”
After another measuring look, the man ran a hand through his short gray hair. “Depends on your perspective,” he said. “To those who have limited funds, this place is the only affordable room in Castletown. To those who have extra funds, this place is on the bottom of their options, just like the sole of a foot.” He shrugged. “You need a room?”
“No, I’m just passing through.”
He grunted as if he didn’t believe Valek. “The food’ll be ready soon.” Then he returned to the kitchen.
As Valek waited, he considered the man’s explanation. Ixian citizens who had legitimate jobs earned a living wage and didn’t need to stay at a place like The Sole. Unless they were thrifty and wanted to save a few coins. Those who chose to work illegal jobs, like the baiters for the black market dealers, earned a range of income. Some did very well, while others struggled to get by. Valek wondered if it was the uncertainty that attracted them. The possibility of hitting it big, versus a steady income. Or was it the thrill and excitement that came with breaking the law? Probably a bit of both.
More customers arrived as Valek drank his tea. A few of the guests came downstairs. They all looked younger than twenty-five. The innkeeper served them tea.
Eventually, Valek spotted Trevar and Adrik at the bottom of the stairs. Like the other baiters, they wore merchant uniforms that had seen better days. Trevar’s gaze swept the room. Would he spot Valek? Granted his disguise wasn’t elaborate, but most people tended to look at the uniform and not the face. Unless they had been trained.
Trevar met his gaze without showing any signs of recognition, but he led Adrik over to Valek’s table.
“Can we join you?” Trevar asked loud enough for the others to hear. “All the other tables are filled.”
Well done. “Yes.”
They sat. Once their backs were to the room, Trevar lowered his voice and asked, “Do you have news?”
He explained about the map. “I want you to concentrate your efforts in the Garden District.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Any progress with the black market dealers?” Valek asked.
“Some. We’ve been working for free to gain some trust. From the bits of gossip we’ve managed to pick up, it seems the dealers are just as freaked as everyone else over the incidents.”
“It could all be an act,” Adrik said. “If they’re selling something that is causing it, they wouldn’t admit it. No, they’d just keep taking everyone’s money.” Bitterness and anger hardened his tone.
Valek couldn’t blame Adrik. Black market dealers had murdered his father. Those men had all been arrested and the one directly responsible had been executed, but it didn’t bring back Sven.
“That’s a good point,” Valek said. “Keep working on earning their trust.”
“Yes, sir.”
The innkeeper set three plates filled with scrambled eggs and bacon on the table. Trevar and Adrik didn’t hesitate to dig in.
“Doesn’t he have someone to help him serve breakfast?” Valek asked.
“Nah,” Trevar said with his mouth full. “Dallin does everything.”
“Have you asked him if he knows what’s going on?”
“Yeah. He has no idea. And if he catches you coming in drunk or on drugs, you’re out on the street.”
“Smart. Okay, keep up the good work. And send word if you learn anything.”
“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.
When Dallin returned to take the empty plates, Valek asked him how much the meal cost.
