his head and went out into the alley.
The door slammed shut behind him, and he heard the bolt slide home. He was on his own.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Corin hovered near the tavern door for some time, hoping Aemilia might come looking for him. He reached up more than once to knock, to demand something more in aid or explanation, but both times he restrained himself. At last, with a weary sigh, he turned his back and started down the narrow alley.
Ephitel an elf? It was almost too much to imagine. The god of all Ithale—fiercest and most powerful of all the gods—and in this place, he was barely more than a man. A man of high position, true…and every bit as treacherous as the Vestossi snakes who ruled beneath his patronage. But not yet the tyrant he would become. Was there really a chance to stop him?
Corin shook his head. Would that matter? Would it affect his own time? Could he save his world from Ephitel’s treachery? If he did…if Ephitel never came to power, would that mean there were no Vestossis? Would there be no Ethan Blake to betray him?
These were some of the questions he had stopped himself from asking Delaen, and still he did not regret that choice. It didn’t matter. Corin had no plans to save the world. All he wanted was to get back home, to set right the things that had gone wrong. But first, he had to navigate this strange place.
Corin hesitated when he reached the alley’s mouth. Despite the late hour, the city streets still bustled. This place was so much like Aepoli. Lurking in the shadows, watching unsuspecting souls flow by, Corin felt a shock of memory—of a boyhood ten years in his past and perhaps a thousand in his future. How often had he waited just like this, terrified, hungry, and alone? There had always been grand plans. And insufficient resources. And enemies he couldn’t hope to defeat.
His weary sigh became a lazy grin and, favoring his hobbled leg, he pushed out into the busy throng and headed for the palace. That was the real key: recognizing the challenge. Everything about this place had seemed impossible and strange, and for a moment he had foundered. But now he had his ship aright and sails full. Now he was home.
Corin’s booted foot found an uneven paving stone and tripped him hard against a lovely elven lady wrapped in purple satin. Corin caught her just short of falling, and she gasped in affronted shock.
Her eyes grew wide to see a simple man—a manling, Ephitel had called him—clinging to her robes. “You…you…”
Corin summoned a blush and brushed at the delicate cloak where he had gripped it. He offered her a wealth of most sincere apologies, then slipped away into the crowd.
And now he had a purse.
Habits from his childhood came surging back, light and easy as a summer breeze, and before he’d crossed the wide Piazza Primavera, he had claimed a silver chain, two jeweled cuffs, and a beggar’s writ in Aemilia’s own hand. He’d always been a nimble touch, and these petty burglaries gave him some hope that he could truly navigate this strange society of gods.
His growling hunger somewhat dimmed that thrill of victory, but the purse now on his belt offered him an answer. He watched the signs above the street until he saw a likely looking inn, then paused outside the door to scan the common room for any sign of Ephitel’s men. Seeing none, he raised his chin and strode into the room. This was not his part of town, not the sort of tavern he preferred, but he didn’t know the city well enough to find a sufficiently shady tavern. Still, with stolen diamonds on his tattered cuffs and silver at his throat, he looked near enough a nobleman, especially when he dropped his purse atop the bar with an expensive clatter.
A barman bustled up to greet him, and Corin met the man with an impatient sigh. “Wine. And bread. And something rich and warm.” He sniffed the air. “Is that quail?”
“Duck, milord,” the barman said.
Corin winced. “Oh, very well. A plate of that. And sausage if you have some.”
The barman frowned, and when he spoke his voice was all affront. “We do make a fine duck, milord. Better far than sausage. Or…are you from the north?”
Corin hid his smile, but it was good to know some things had not changed so much. “I am, and dearly missing the