me that’d be a bad idea. Plus, I think we’ll get further if someone’s not tossing around words like ‘wenches’ and ‘neck-wringing.’ Just let me handle the talking, okay? Like you said, I look like everyone else. No one’s going to notice another woman around here but everyone’s going to notice you.”
Aron grunts. “Let us go, then.”
The door to the inn is made of more of the wrought metal, and light spills out in patterns onto the ground. We open the door and head inside, and immediately more music and the laughter of people surrounds us. Did I worry about thunder outside? I doubt these people can hear past their own voices. There’s a cluster of small tables scattered around the packed room, and the place reeks of sour wine and sweat. Lovely.
Aron behaves, which is a relief. He ducks his head and moves to the back of the tavern, winding through the tables and heading for an empty one in the corner, by the fire. I watch him go and the crowd barely seems to notice him. He’s just another man in soldier’s clothing in a city full of the military. Works for me. I head to the bar and move to the counter, smiling at the woman behind it.
“Order something or move on,” she tells me in a bored, tired voice. “Food’s served here, drinks at a table. If you aren’t buying, then head on back out—”
My stomach growls at the mention of food and I grab my pouch. “I’ll have food and a drink, if that’s all right.”
That gets the waitress’s attention. She pauses from swiping down the counter with a wet rag and looks over at me. Maybe it’s something in my tone, but she looks suspicious. “Two crowns.”
I pull my change out and start picking through it, looking for coins with crowns on them. I find two and offer them to her, but her lip curls. “You’re not from here, are you?”
Right. I’m already fucking this up. I put the money on the bar and then pat the coins, and pull out the stolen tag that shows my Aventinian allegiance so I don’t get sold into slavery again. I avoid her question and change tactics. “How about we do things this way. I’ll give you any five coins you want, and you can give me some food and some answers about this place. Sound good?”
The girl leans over the bar and immediately grabs five of the smallest coins, dropping them into her bodice with a look at the man at the far end of the bar.
I slide the coins into my pouch again, mentally making a note that the tiny coins are the ones that are the biggest amounts. “Thank you.”
A second later, I’m given a pottery bowl with veggies, shredded meat, and a hunk of bread. A goblet of the sour-smelling wine is set down next to it, and the waitress crosses her arms, looking at me expectantly. “What do you want to know?”
My mouth waters at the sight of the food and drink. It’s impossible that I’m hungry again, because I ate like a pig a short time ago, but I could eat. I sop the bread in the juices from the meat and take a big mouthful. Heaven. “This is so good. Thank you.”
Her impatient expression eases a little. “Long day, eh?”
Oh my god, she has no idea. “The longest.” I take another bite and glance back at the corner, but Aron’s just sitting, arms crossed and hunched over the table. So far so good. “So uh, if I need to leave the city tonight, what’s the best way to do so?”
She picks up her bar rag again and shrugs. “You’ve got two options. Docks or south gate.”
Ah. I consider this even as I shovel food into my mouth. We don’t have a boat, and I don’t know anything about sailing, so the docks are out. “So the south gate, then. That’s the safest place to go?”
“Only place to go,” she corrects. “All the other gates are controlled by the army. South gate’s the only way in or out of Aventine.”
I nod thoughtfully and take a gulp of wine. It’s strong enough to make a shiver go through me, but I drink it anyhow. “What’s there?”
“Past the Dirtlands, you mean?”
Dirtlands. Interesting. That explains the fine grit that seems to catch the wind constantly. “Yeah, past the Dirtlands.”
The woman eyes me skeptically for a moment and then swipes at the bar. “Not much