Azure bonds - Kate Novak [42]
"I already told you, I owe her. I pay my debts."
"With whose money, I wonder?"
The halfling gave the mage a sly smile, unruffled by his distrust. From what Olive had seen, Alias did not rely on him for advice, and it was Alias who interested her. The halfling had no doubt the attractive warrior and her magical arm would lead to a fortune. And even if the swords-woman didn't, she would make a good subject for a song.
As they traveled south, Akabar remained buried deep in his own thoughts, trying to make up contingency plans should they discover Alias was not in Suzail, or worse, that she was, as Olive had suggested, attempting to assassinate King Azoun. Dragonbait loped along beside the pony High Roll, with the bells from his jester's costume jangling. Olive chattered away to the lizard about all the celebrations she'd played at. Akabar wished she had lost her voice singing.
At dusk, three hours later, Dragonbait suddenly stopped moving. He tilted his head and placed his hand over his chest. Then, he moved on down the road with more energy.
"Think he's picked up her scent?" the bard asked. Akabar studied Dragonbait. "He senses something."
They arrived in Suzail shortly after dark. Without hesitation Dragonbait led them right to The Hidden Lady and into the tavern room. Akabar wondered if the lizard could sense Alias's presence, or if, like a dog, he simply expected her to be there. Whatever the case, there she was.
She sat in a booth at the back. The hem of her blue gown was dirty and tattered. Her legs were drawn up to her chest in a tight ball, and her head lay on her knees. She was crooning a love song, explaining the tears of Selune-the mysterious glittering shards that followed the moon's path. In all her travels, the bard had heard neither the haunting lyrics nor the lovely melody, marred somewhat by the swords-woman's sniffling and drunken timing.
A toppled mug oozed thick mead over the oak table in front of Alias. She took no notice of the group as they approached-until Akabar's height blocked out the light from the hanging lamp that illuminated her table. She stirred herself and, with some effort, raised her head to look up at the trio. Her eyes were rimmed with red.
"Go 'way," she croaked.
"Are you all right?" Akabar asked.
"It's a shame you had to leave," Ruskettle chirped up. "I thought I might not survive the crush of people when the tent fell, but it was all for the best. Imagine trying to sing to three hundred people in there. The party got much better after we moved. Everyone said so."
Dragonbait looked at Alias with his head cocked, making a soft mewling noise. The bells on his jester's hat jingled when he moved his head.
Again Alias told them, "Go away," but her voice was much softer.
The barkeep came to the booth. "Did you want company, lady?" he asked protectively.
When Alias did not reply, the barkeep asked the others what they were having.
Dragonbait pointed to the overturned mug of mead. Akabar ordered white wine.
"I'll have a Red Rum Swirl," Ruskettle said.
"Never met one," the barkeep answered.
"How 'bout a Dragon's Bite?" the bard asked.
"What's that when it's at home?" the barkeep asked.
"All right. A Yeti's Breath. You must know that one."
The barkeep shook his head.
The halfling sighed. "Rivengut then."
"Sorrv, all out. Don't get much call for it so's I don't order much of it."
"I'll have a Black Boar then."
"I'll see what I can do."
Before the man could walk away, the southern mage took his arm gently and whispered, "How many has she had?"
The barkeep held up two fingers.
"Two? Just two?" Akabar mouthed.
The bartender shrugged his shoulders, unable to explain Alias's intoxication.
Akabar slid into the booth next to Olive. Dragonbait perched on the stool at the end of the table. "Would you like another drink?" the mage asked Alias.
"They can't make good liquor in this god-forsaken hellhole," said the woman warrior, not raising her head.
"I'll say," agreed the halfling, "Imagine not knowing how to make a Yeti's Breath. Now there's a drink with… um." Olive grew