Page 24 of Revealing Fate

The stablemaster, a thin, reedy man named Bandor, greeted Kal warmly, smile too wide for his narrow face. Felíne braced against the pinch of guilt as she remembered the last stablemaster she and Kal had called on. She prayed her presence would not bring about the same fate for Bandor as it had for Brune. Sig was led away, Kal shouldering their pack of belongings.

“Last time, you promised me pillows,” Felíne said, endeavoring to distract herself. She subconsciously searched the faces of every shurii male that wandered by. She couldn’t help wondering if one of them belonged to Rask, if her deepening well of deception was moments from evaporating. “It seems we’ve upgraded to proper buildings, too.”

“Oh? I thought you’d prefer a threadbare tent on the outskirts. Exposed to the elements and wilderness beasts…”

“Very funny.” Felíne made an effort to return Kal’s teasing smile. It fell short. “Is there an inn close by?” With the dense nature of the forest, it was difficult to discern just how large Meress was, how far its borders spread.

Kal watched her, mirth fading, head tilted the way it often did when he was puzzling through something. “There is an inn. Not far. But I wasn’t planning on taking you there.”

She arched a brow in question. “Then where will we stay?”

His stare intensified, gold fragments flashing in its depths, and heat crept up Felíne’s neck. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked. “What did I say?”

“You said we.”

She swallowed. “And?”

“Your brother keeps a house here,” he said carefully. “As do I.”

Felíne wondered if she’d ever stop saying things in naïveté that painted her into dangerous corners. “So, naturally, I’d stay with…my brother.” She paused. Then whispered, “You’re still looking at me, Kal.”

He blinked, gilded treasures settling back to the inky bottoms of their respective pools. “Sorry,” he said. “You distracted me.” Another brief tilt of his lips. “I was picturing you in my house.”

In my room. My bed.

He hadn’t said those things, Felíne’s imagination had, but her cheeks flamed as though they’d been spoken aloud.

Kal missed nothing, but he spared her further humiliation by keeping additional thoughts to himself. “Come,” he said, nodding over his shoulder. “There’s a tavern close that Rask frequents. The barkeep will know where he is.”

The tavern in question was a wide, two-story, eclectic building crafted of a mishmash of materials. Its central structure was heavy mahogany wood that looked to have been added onto over the years, with whatever textiles happened to be available at the time, and no thought given to symmetry.

Kal led Felíne through an arched doorway and was greeted by the few occupants who shot curious glances her way. Her skin crawled with tension, and she expected any one of the strangers to identify her artifice and proclaim her a liar. She anchored herself to an empty table, stomach twisting itself into knots of increasing anxiety while she waited for Kal to finish speaking to the barkeep.

“He’s not here,” Kal relayed when he returned to her side a few minutes later. “He left yesterday for a hunting outpost several hours’ ride north.”

Felíne’s breath left her on a shaky exhale.

“Are you hungry? We can stay and eat if you like.”

Felíne shook her head. If she put anything into her stomach just then, it was liable not to stay. Kal nodded and led her out of the tavern, back into the afternoon light.

“Well,” Kal said, running a hand over his head, tousling the curls. “I’m surprised he’s not here to greet us, but I can show you to his house in the meantime. You can rest a while and settle in.”

He strode into the city, and Felíne followed along numbly. Meress was special, its unique woodland charm having initially piqued her every interest. Just then, however, Felíne found it impossible to appreciate her environment for the serpentine apprehension that coiled insidiously tighter, choking any other emotion or intrigue.

Twenty minutes later, Kal stopped before a collection of homes in the depths of Meress, not far from the busier business center. He stood before one simple, unadorned house, indistinguishable from the others around it.

“This is Rask’s house?” Felíne’s voice came out strained as she assessed the nondescript brown door. It may as well have been the gateway to hell.

Kal nodded. “There is a spare key wedged behind the loose board just left of the step.”

He made to retrieve it for her but paused when he realized she hadn’t stepped a foot off the street. She couldn’t. Felíne was rooted like one of the ancient oaks, refusing to toe even an inch toward the stranger’s threshold.

Kal returned to her, leaving the key in its hiding place. He studied her frozen face and tilted her chin up with a gently curved finger. “If I had to guess, Kitty Harless, I’d say you had some reservations about reuniting with your brother.”

Damn him. Felíne’s façade was cracking at the edges, pieces of her great lie slowly chipping away. And Kal was far too perceptive. She was running out of time.

“I’m nervous,” she admitted, hoping the fraction of truth and understatement of the century wouldn’t garner suspicion. Her imploring gaze collided with Kal’s carefully reserved one before flicking back to Rask’s house. “I…I don’t want to stay there.”