The Gates of Night_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [53]
And it did.
The sensation lasted only a moment, and then it was gone. Xu’sasar held her breath a little longer, but the spirit had moved away, deeper into the woods. It was traveling away from Daine, and it hadn’t touched the path, so perhaps the bird had spoken truly after all. Perhaps the road was safe. The memory of the chilling presence lingered long after the spirit had passed, and Xu’sasar moved closer to the path for the remainder of the journey.
She didn’t have far to go. The point of light grew larger, and soon she could see that it was a lick of cold fire contained in a crystal cage, hanging from the bough of a tree. She had reached their destination.
It was easy to see how the Inn of the Crooked Tree had come by its name. The building itself was made of thatched straw and black mud, but it was built around a graywood oak, a twisted tree with a dozen crooked boughs stretching out over the long roof. Windows were made of a dark stained glass, but Xu’sasar could see the flicker of fire within, and she could smell smoke in the air. Shadows shifted against the windows, and Xu’sasar could hear laughter and conversation. She circled the building, listening to the faint sounds until she could distinguish the voices. Then she sprinted back through the night, skirting the edge of the road. The cold spirit that had brushed against her had moved on, and she encountered no significant threats on her return.
“The path is clear,” she said, when she reached Daine.
He nodded, and she fell into step alongside him as they moved down the road.
“Well, someone said it was, didn’t they?” Huwen said.
“Oh, right, that was me. Seems like I know a thing or two after all.”
“There are two levels to the building,” Xu’sasar said, ignoring the bird. “I believe there are only four people inside—at least, four who are awake. I saw no guards or sentries. The surface of the walls is easy to climb. I would suggest that I enter the second floor, kill any who sleep, and wait for you by the stairs. When you enter the front, we can converge on the four below, taking them off-guard.”
Daine and Huwen stared at her.
“What?” Daine said at last.
“We are outnumbered, but we will have the element of surprise. Our enemies may not be fully armed, though in this land we must obviously be wary of magic.”
“Did you …” Daine shook his head. “Just tell me when these people became our enemies.”
Now it was Xu’sasar’s turn to be puzzled. “We seek to claim their shelter, do we not?”
“It’s an inn,” Daine said. “You know … inn? Where people give you shelter in exchange for gold?”
“Gold?” Xu’sasar considered this. In Xen’drik, shelter was a precious thing. Her people did not build. Once they traveled to a new area, securing a ruin or a cavern was always the first order of business. You might share shelter with a tribe bound to you by blood, but when strangers held that which you desired, violence was simply the way of things. Unless …
Had she misunderstood Daine? Did he mean a place where people exchanged shelter for flesh? Certainly, that would make more sense than a gift of soft metal.
“Who are you planning to give to these strangers?” she said. The scorpion had ordered her to protect Daine. It said nothing about allowing him to sell her.
Daine frowned.