A hopeful part of me wanted to believe that he meant it. The intelligent part of me refused.
None of the guys could be trusted.
That much I knew with certainty.
Yet, Shade had given me a glimpse of home today. Had even coached me a bit on how to handle my collar.
Not the signs of a male who wanted to hurt me.
“Ready?” Tray asked, drawing me from my thoughts. “It’s an hour before dawn, and Kols is probably ready to come find us.”
I glanced out the windows and noticed the mostly vacant streets.
“Oh.” I hadn’t realized how late it’d gotten. We’d spent a good chunk of the midnight hours in this tavern, indulging in food and conversation. And spritemead. “I would very much like to come back here.” Wait… I wanted to find out what Anrika had meant about her old friend.
I glanced around for the woman and frowned at the empty surroundings. “Ah, we’re the last ones here.”
“Yeah, Anrika closed up an hour ago,” Tray said with a chuckle. “She left right after giving you that last mug of spritemead. Told her irritated pet to see us out.” He gestured with his chin toward the stone-faced gargoyle standing absolutely still by the door. All eighteen inches of him seemed to bristle with irritation without actually moving. Impressive.
“Pet,” it muttered, the stones grating with astute annoyance. “Leave.”
Tray smirked. “Sure.”
We exited the booth, and Tray bent to pat the little gargoyle on the head. “Have a good night, little guy.”
The thing growled in reply, the sound far more ferocious than any being that size should be able to make. Ella squeaked and practically shoved Tray out into the cool air of the night, with me right behind them.
He bent over laughing, clearly having indulged in more than a few beers and spritemeads combined.
Oh, but we all had.
What a fun night.
I actually felt warm. Sort of like I was floating on a cloud. I started to hum as we walked, the song one my mother taught me long ago. A sad little ballad with words I didn’t quite understand, but ones I’d memorized nonetheless.
It wasn’t until I hit the second verse that I realized both Ella and Tray were gaping at me. “What?” I asked, my cheeks heating at their open perusal. “My voice isn’t that bad.”
“No, it’s the song. It’s haunting,” Ella whispered.
“It’s forbidden,” Tray corrected. “Where did you learn those words?”
“What?” I asked, startled by his sudden vehemence. “How could a children’s ballad be forbidden?”
“Because you’re singing about spells used to realign the source,” he replied, glancing around as if to make sure no one else heard. “We need to go.” He moved with urgency toward the cloakroom I’d used with Zeph a little over two months ago during my first week in this realm. Only, we all already wore our cloaks this time because of the cooler weather.
Tray activated the portal and took us directly to the crow field at the Academy.
A few students watched our arrival with interest but didn’t stand in our way or try to speak with us. Which was good because Tray didn’t appear in the mood for conversation. He practically stormed down the obsidian sidewalk, past the burning thwomps and bare bushes, ignoring all the writhing snakes along the various posts and fences, and led us up the stairs into the Elite Residence.
The doors parted with a flourish, not needing a code because of whatever Tray did with his hand. And up the master staircase we went to the third floor.
“What’s wrong with you?” Ella demanded as we approached the gargoyle at the end of the hall. Apparently, Kols had undone whatever spell Shade had cast over the creature. Its beady red eyes glared upon seeing me, as if blaming me for the earlier incident.
Join the club, I thought at it. Everyone in this place seems to think I’m at fault for something.
“We’ll talk in the suite,” Tray muttered, his voice holding an edge to it.
Ella frowned at him. “Fine.”