For a moment, I simply stood in the open doorway. Sounds of the first-floor tavern, clanking silverware scratching against plates, mumbled conversations among friends, and intermittent laughter floated up to me. And still, Noc’s voice rang in my mind. His emotions were a moving target, and I didn’t have the slightest clue where to aim. Despite his frigid detachment, though, he’d inched closer. Expressed concern about Calem. About me.
Maybe there was more beneath his frosty words and bitter stare. I just needed to find the right kind of heat and see what thawed.
If I dared.
* * *
Dinner with the men was anything but relaxing. Sitting at a four-top table with Noc, Ozias, and Kost, I chewed on lamb stew and freshly baked bread. Kost was a case study of efficiency, eating in record time with more table etiquette than I could ever muster. The moment he finished, he extracted maps of the woods and discussed possible camping locations with Ozias. Calem never joined us, opting instead for a barstool, a brunette, and several rounds of ale.
And Noc… I took a long drink of water, washing down the remainder of my food, then pushed my plate to the side. Noc never spoke. He occasionally nodded in agreement to some of Kost’s questions, but his eyes never left me. They pored over me through the whole meal, burning more and more of my skin as the minutes progressed.
“You all done, hon?” The bar maiden nodded toward my plate before wiping her hands on a floral-patterned towel at her waist.
“Yes, thank you.”
The tavern was only a few notches cleaner than Midnight Jester, yet it reeked of home. Dust-covered windowpanes turned the black sky a weird ruddy brown. Thick candles dripped hot wax on tarnished silver holders. And yet the bartender slinging drinks to Calem and his date had none of the rugged charm that Dez so easily wielded, and the warmth was missing.
Maybe that was because of the sheer force of the ice wall sitting across from me: Noc leaning back in his chair, idle hand gripping a near-empty glass.
Ozias pushed his empty plate to the middle of the table. “Hopefully, Calem doesn’t wake us when he comes back.” He stood slowly, bones creaking as he stretched his hands to the ceiling. “I’m going to hit the sack.”
Kost rolled up his maps. “Me too. Noc?”
Noc’s gaze never left my face. “You go on ahead. I think I’m in need of another drink.” Kost hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding, then turned to follow Ozias across the tavern toward the stairs. With every passing second, Noc’s unrelenting stare burned brighter until the bar maiden returned and caught his attention.
“You two calling it?” She set her hands on her hips. “Or can I get you something else?”
Noc fingered his empty tumbler glass. “I’ll have another.”
“Just some more water, please.”
“Sure thing.” The bar maiden strolled off. She snagged a heavy bottle of spiced acorn whiskey from the bar, then made a quick stop for a fresh glass of water before returning. With skilled hands, she poured a heaping amount of amber liquid into Noc’s tumbler. “Enjoy.”
When she moved away to another table, I finally braved words. “So…”
“Why don’t you know about the violet sheen of Wilheim?” The question burst out of him as if he’d been holding it back for hours. Curiosity, it seemed, was Noc’s weakness.
Rotating the ring around my finger, I had no option other than to stare right into those unyielding pools of black glass, remembering the way he’d smiled as he talked about his love of puzzles. He was a collector of sorts, finding stray bits of information to store away in the brilliant puzzle trap of his brain. It was an uncomfortably appealing thought, that I intrigued this brilliant man so much. “I’ve never been.”
Exile carried a nasty price. It wasn’t enough to be excommunicated; my people had to go ahead and put an asterisk next to my name, making it impossible for me to find reasonable employment within the safety of Wilheim.
Noc braced his forearms against the table and caged his drink between his hands. “I guess that’s to be expected if you’ve spent most of your days in Hireath.”
I stiffened. I never should have mentioned Hireath. It was a place of both beauty and abject terror. My home and the source of my pain. My only chance at ever going back lay in convincing the Council I was worthy of a hearing. Which would be nearly