AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Artus hadn’t put his hand on Riella, it was true. But he’d spoken foully about her. So, Jarin stuck the blade in the man’s mouth and sawed off his tongue. His old captain gurgled and screamed and struggled, but Jarin overpowered him.
The detached tongue fell to the gravel, blood spurting from Artus’s mouth.
In the time it took for the older man’s crew to register his screams over the festival’s din, Jarin had scaled the ladder and disappeared.
CHAPTER 33
Riella followed Sehild and Olivier to the salon.
Jarin had vanished into the crowd before she could object to splitting up. Then, she saw the mounted patrol of royal guards heading into the square and understood. He wanted her out of sight and away from trouble.
But where did he go?
“I’m pleased to have run into you,” said Sehild as the trio slipped into a quiet side street. “I’ve dearly missed Yvette and Odeya since they left Klatos. Yvette took off at once to the countryside to study Healing, and Odeya is sailing to Morktland, where she’s from. It’s a long journey by ship, and far too cold for my liking, but she was thrilled at the prospect of going back.”
“That’s good news.” Riella smiled, falling into step beside her friend. Olivier walked behind them. “Any word of Madame Quaan?”
Sehild grimaced. “Yvette didn’t go back for her, I know that much. Certainly, no one has seen or heard from her, nor Gerret. I suppose they’re dead.”
Olivier held a door open for Riella and Sehild to an elegant salon. Once the door was closed behind them, the difference in atmosphere and sound was as pronounced as the ocean and earth. Riella exhaled in relief. She’d not realized how overwhelming she found the festival until she left it.
The salon was furnished in brass and jewel-toned velvets. A maze of narrow corridors leading to nooks and intimate bars was lit with chandeliers and candles. The clever acoustics transformed all conversation into an ambient hum. String music played from one of the bars.
“Let’s have a drink while we wait for your strapping man,” said Sehild.
She winked at the siren, leading her by the hand to a gilded bar. Differently shaped and colored bottles filled the mirrored shelves.
Olivier passed a menu to Riella.
“The drinks here are potions,” he explained. “Enchanted by mages. Pick your poison, so to speak.”
She perused the list. There were brews promising seductive abilities, but also good fortune or heightened senses or the promotion of healing. What she really needed was the ability to find and destroy her enemies at will, which sadly was not on offer.
“Do they actually work?” she asked.
Sehild shrugged. “They don’t hurt, I’ll say that much. It’s a bit of fun.”
“Alright. I shall take good fortune, then, I suppose.”
Olivier and Sehild chose the potion that promised heightened physical sensation.
The bartender mixed their drinks, making an elaborate show of shaking and stirring and pouring. He slid a tall glass of sparkly red liquid to Riella, and shots of dark blue to her companions. The trio clinked their potions together and drank.
The drink was sweet, and delicious, but did not feel particularly magical to Riella.
“This place is leagues better than Madame Quaan’s,” said Sehild, gesturing around the salon. “We work for ourselves, you see. Many of our old clients have drifted over here, which is nice. Although, you’ve got to be careful who you speak to. There’s been some particularly nosy folk around lately.”
Riella put down her empty glass. “Nosy, how? And?—”
She glanced at Olivier, unsure how much to say in front of him.
He bowed his head. “I’ll go and get us a table. Come over when you’re ready.”
The siren felt a flare of gratitude for his tact.
“Go on,” said Riella to her friend when he’d left. “Who’s been nosy?”
After what had happened to Ferrante, the idea of anyone asking questions made her uneasy.
