The Dragon Oath - Megan Linski Page 0,70

had to be far away. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be so weak. Portals are easy for me.”

“How’d you get the idea to make a portal, anyhow?”

“I— I don’t know,” Emma flustered. “I just... I felt like it had to go someplace else.”

Didn’t make a lot of sense, but what did it matter? All I cared about was that the thing was gone. “We should go. Before more monsters come lurking.”

I helped Emma to her feet and changed. “On my back now, Emma. You’re too weak to fly.”

She protested under her breath, but didn’t object further. She laid on my back as I raced back to the university, totally spent.

I had learned so much today, and yet, the information had only led to more questions. Who was the Hidden King? Why was the cult following him? And what were they doing with the monsters at the border wall?

I planned to get some answers. Tonight.

When brute force couldn’t handle the job, coin always would.

There was a very shady tavern on the bad side of Dolinska called The Crooked Whip. It wasn’t a nice place to hang out. It was constantly dark inside, even on the brightest of days, dirty, and attracted the worse people. Fae only went there if they were looking for trouble, which is exactly why the information I needed was most likely to be found there.

The ale was watered down and cheap, and the barkeep wouldn’t cut you off no matter how much you had, which made the tavern perfect for those with secrets to spill. I kept my hood up when I entered the tavern through the back. The hood concealed my face so no one recognized my mask.

A spindly dragon shifter polished filthy glasses behind the bar. Winavor Birivam was gangly and small for his Faction, but it didn’t fool me— I’d seen him pin an unlucky Seelie against a wall and nearly slit his throat for trying to walk out on a tab. The old man raised a greedy eyebrow as I leaned on the counter.

The Phantom knew the barkeep, kept him paid well to pass on information. Winavor hadn’t been able to give me any intel on where the Black Claw’s new hideout was based, but perhaps he could tell me something about the Hidden King.

“Did you find who I asked for?” I whispered, casting a quick glance to see if anyone was watching.

Winavor nodded. “In the back.”

I slipped him a few coins, which he eagerly pocketed. I took a side door to the storeroom. A man drank deeply from a tankard, sitting by a table that was placed haphazardly next to barrels of aged ale. We were the only ones inside, and he was half-drunk. He looked alicorn. Definitely not a cultist, but probably knew those that were.

I removed my hood. The alicorn lowered his tankard as he took me in.

“The Phantom,” he grunted. “Winavor didn’t tell me I’d be talking to a vigilante.”

“I’ll make it worth your time. I’m looking for information,” I told the man. “Who is the Black Claw’s leader? Who is the Hidden King?”

The alicorn smirked. “Asking the tough questions, are we?”

“I don’t have time for games. Either tell me what you know, or I’ll take my payment and leave.”

He scowled. “You don’t have to be unpleasant about it. I thought the answer would be obvious.”

“Obvious how?” I questioned. He was trying my nerves.

The alicorn shrugged, and took another swig. “I’ve got quite a few cultist friends. People I grew up with, you know. And they think their Hidden King is none other than Elijah Zlodia.”

My blood ran cold. Elijah? No. It couldn’t be. He was a total bastard... but was he that evil?

I started toward the table. The alicorn’s eyes became wide as I fisted a hand in his shirt. “Are you lying? Tell the truth!”

“What reason do I have to lie?” the alicorn rasped. “Zlodia came to the Black Claw before the Contest began. He vowed to restore the cult to glory if they followed his rule. At least, that’s how my friends tell it.”

The horror inside me grew and clawed its way at my insides. I wondered how far this man’s love of money ran. I let him go and took a few steps back. “Could you be persuaded to tell me where your friends are?” I dared to ask.

“I don’t want anyone getting hurt, here,” the alicorn said coolly. “My friends may be cultists, but they are my friends. And I won’t go giving them up so

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