12. Chapter 10 Jarrah

Chapter twelve

Chapter 10: Jarrah

A fter hours of insufferable searching, and talking to people who had nothing but complaints, we finally make our way back to the inn where we're staying.

The broody blonde bartender is chatting with some guys who are sitting at the bar. They all go silent when we come in, and glare at us as we head up the stairs to our rooms. We reconvene in the room that I'm sharing with Lysander and Emyth. Lysander tucks his new looking bowl into his belongings as the others are walking into the room.

"What's that?" Emyth asks, approaching Lysander.

"A gift from one of the shop keeps." Lysander wears a broad smile as he kisses Emyth tenderly. We all take seats around the room and collectively inhale. "Did you guys have any luck?"

"I met another reaper," Emyth says, which draws the attention of every pair of eyes in the room.

"Who?" Zorvan asks.

"The mousy fae girl in the dress shop. I get the feeling she may be joining us at the castle for training soon."

"Why didn't she register?" Zorvan asks.

"Fear. She couldn't have been more than fifty years old. Her mother told her that if anyone found out about her gifts, she would be put to death. So she learned how to lock it down. Now she needs to learn how to wield it.

"The timing works out. My brother is okay with the reaper stuff, but this girl is powerful. She'll be a good replacement for me when I go to Kildara."

"You're not going to Kildara," Zorvan says with a scoff.

"You can't keep me in Feldorn. As soon as Arden is ba—"

"Arden won't be leaving Feldorn either. At least not if I have anything to do with it." His voice is weary...sad.

We all suspected that he had changed his mind, but this is the first time he's said it out loud.

I push myself up from my seat. "I'm going to go get some mead. Anyone want anything?"

The rest of them shake their heads, and I head back down to the tavern. I fiddle with the gold in my pocket as I enter the room that's now starting to fill up with patrons. Some have plates of food, others just have drinks. The crowd here is pretty rough and tumble compared to Tirphal's place.

The door to the tavern opens, and outside, the sky is setting to dusk. Pink and purple hues have replaced the beautiful blue of the day time hours. Sunrises and sunsets always remind me of Arden. She would watch the sky in complete awe any time she caught a glimpse of the twilight hours.

I shake my head clear from the thoughts, and push the heartache deeper. I don't have the time or the luxury of sulking right now. I approach the bar, and Aurbert—or whatever his name was—makes eye contact. The smile he'd just held for the patron he was speaking with fades entirely, and is replaced with a scowl.

"What?" he snaps.

"Seven bottles of mead please," I say and place ten gold down on the counter. It's more than I would pay for mead just about anywhere else, but I'm not looking to get into another argument with this guy.

He glances at the gold then back up at me. He looks like he's about to make a snarky remark, but instead his mouth snaps shut and he simply nods. He goes to the back of the tavern and when he returns his arms are full of the mead I asked for. He sets them gently on the counter, and pockets the coin.

"Do you want steins too, or are you just going to drink straight from the bottles?" It's not hateful or sarcastic. He's just asking a question.

"Steins please," I say.

"Sirsho!" he calls over his shoulder, and a female fae with scaly green skin and snake-like eyes approaches.

"Yeah, boss?" she asks, throwing a dirty dish towel over her shoulder.

"Help this fella upstairs with his booze and his cups. Don't loiter too long. I need help getting dinner out."

"Yes, boss," she says. Her eyes roam over the bottles. "How many?"

"Six," I say. Emyth likely won't drink much, but I want him to have the option.

She grabs the large wooden mugs, and nods for me to lead the way. I gather up the bottles and lead her up to our room. Hands full, I tap the door with my foot. Zorvan opens it, looking like he's about to murder whoever has dared to disturb him in his quarters. His face softens when he sees me.

Sirsho follows me into the room and sets the steins down on the small table that's nestled between two armchairs opposite the beds. I reach in my pocket and pull out two more gold pieces. I take her hand and place the gold piece in her palm.

"Thank you."

She glances at the coin I placed in her palm, and her eyes light up. "Yes, sir! If you need anything else, I'm your girl. I'll be here until sun-up. And if you boys are interested in music at all, I suggest bringing your party downstairs in a little bit. The band that's playing is fantastic."

"We'll think about it," I say as I escort her to the door.

Once the door is securely shut behind her, I pull a corkscrew out of my bag, and set to work uncorking two of the bottles of mead, and begin pouring it into cups.

"Did you really think we needed this many?" Emyth asks with a snort. "I don't even really drink anymore, and I'm not sure I've ever seen Livarius have a sip of alcohol."

"No, I'm more of an herb guy," Livarius says, pulling a pouch out of his own bag.

He unravels it, revealing an intricately carved wooden pipe, and a small bag of turquoise herb. He packs it, and places the mouth piece to his lips before holding out his hand and summoning just enough of his fire magic to start it burning. As he inhales deeply, drawing on the pipe, I begin passing out cups of mead to the others.

"Do you think it's wise to be drunk in a strange place?" Zorvan asks.

"I think that this is the only chance we have to do this before shit really hits the fan. We've spent the last two weeks placing blame, and at each other's throats. It's not doing any of us any favors.

"The last several years we've been at odds as well. Arden's presence was starting to fix that. We owe it to her, and to ourselves to stop fighting with each other, and to start working together." I take a long gulp of my drink and set the cup back down with a heavy thud . "I think that working together is the only way we're going to get her back. At least that's what the seer at the divination shop heavily implied."

"She knew of Arden?" Emyth asks.

"She knew of all of us," Lysander says. "She knew far more than she should have, considering I don't think she's ever met any of us before."

"We should bring her back with us," Zorvan says with a dry laugh.

"She said that unless you got Arden back, that wasn't happening," Lysander says, and Livarius snorts in amusement.

Lysander, Tavin, and I went on to explain the rest of our trip to the divination shop, the book shop, and the blacksmith. When we were done with that, the others discussed their trip to the clothier and the plan they put in place for the safe rooms. They also told us about their uneventful visits to the butcher, and the oddities shop.

About an hour into our conversations, it's become clear that I went overboard with the amount of alcohol I purchased. Me, Tavin, and Lysander are the only ones drinking. Emyth doesn't fully trust himself, Livarius just doesn't like it, and Zorvan doesn't like feeling even a little bit out of control.

I imagine that piece of him is on extra high alert while we're in a strange town with a bunch of people that he doesn't know. And after seeing the reaction that people had to him today, I can't say I blame him. Half this city would rather he be dead at this point. That's got to be a hard pill to swallow.

The others are all distracted, playing a card game, but I turn to Zorvan and say, "You'll fix it."

"What?"

"Your relationships with the people of this kingdom. I believe you can. You being here is a really good start."

He sighs and pours himself a tiny bit of mead into a cup. "I can't believe how much I've fucked up in such a short amount of time."

"You have fucked up pretty spectacularly, even for you." I take a drink. My words come out bitter. I've given him a lot of grace over the years, but these last few months have caused a rift in our relationship that is bordering on irreparable.

"I don't know how to fix any of it."

"Getting Arden back is step one. How the fuck are you going to rule the kingdom when half of your staff would dismember you and display you in the gardens if it meant getting a human back?"

He snorts. "Helena wants my cock on a stick."

"Airen told me that she wishes to give you a sleeping drought, and only administer the antidote once Arden is back."

"And how does she propose we get Arden back if I'm unconscious?"

I lower my voice, "She has five other mates. I, myself, have been feeling like we could accomplish more if you weren't around."

"If you five are so much more capable than me, why didn't you go looking for her on your own?"

"We have been. Off and on for the last two weeks, we've been scouring the uninhabited parts of Feldorn hoping beyond hope that she's there somewhere. It's not like we can cross into Kildaran territory without good reason, and what reason were we going to give Ardeth? 'Oh, hi. We found your great-granddaughter, but then we lost her again. Just looking under rocks and behind trees to see if we can find her.' He would execute us on sight.

"And Cyndair wouldn't be much better. We're already on thin ice with her after putting her granddaughter on trial for treason. We're just running around out here pissing off all the grandparents, it seems."

"We do seem to be good at that," he says with a dry laugh. There's a long, palpable pause before he says, "We gotta get her back, Jar. We have to. If something happens to her..." He trails off staring distantly at his cup, then tosses the rest of his mead back.

He's hurting enough. I'm not going to point out the obvious that something already has happened to her. I'm not going to remind him of the searing pain he caused her by severing the bond. Or the fact that she's been taken by someone who has a reputation for taking women for, likely, nefarious reasons.

We sit together in silence as the others play their game. It's nice to hear them talk and laugh, and through all of this, I'm glad they have each other. The ache that I feel from not having Arden nearby is nearly unbearable, but I imagine having another partner might soothe some of the sting.

"Jarrah?" Zorvan says, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts about my mate.

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry."

I squeeze my eyes shut, then open them, fixating my gaze on Zorvan who still stares at his mug. "I'm...I'm sorry. I must have had way more to drink than I thought. I could have sworn you just apologized to me. But that can't be right. Prince Zorvan never apologizes for anything."

He chuckles, and his eyes find mine. "There is a first time for everything, I suppose. But I mean it. I've been a terrible friend these last couple decades. I hope you know how much I value our friendship."

The smile fades from my face. "I know you are. And one day I may be able to accept that apology. But it won't be before Arden is safe and sound."

He nods. "Should we join the others then?"

I toss back the remaining swig of my drink. "Yeah. Let's try to have a little fun before we have to do this all again tomorrow."

***

After I've consumed a bottle and a half of mead by myself, I'm half under the table and ready to party.

"Let's go hear the band!" I say, pushing back from the table where we've been playing cards.

"We can hear them through the floorboards," Zorvan argues.

Not one to be dissuaded, even when sober, I grab Zorvan by the arm and haul him to his feet.

"Look, it'll be fun. And you slumming it with the commoners will be good publicity. Let's go.

That seems to be enough to encourage him. The others grab a deck of cards and I grab our remaining bottles of mead and bring them down with us. The tavern is packed compared to when we first entered. Nearly every seat is filled, and the only ones left available are scattered among the other patrons.

The barkeep's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline when he makes eye contact with me. Sirsho spies us, and shuffles a few patrons around at their tables so we can all sit together, despite Zorvan's protestations that we don't need those sorts of accommodations.

A couple of the patrons make comments about how much bullshit it is that they have to bend to our whims. Zorvan mercifully keeps his mouth shut. I pour us each a cup of mead and Emyth pulls his cards back out of his pocket, dealing us each a hand.

The song the band was playing ends, and the glamorous man who had been singing at the front of the troupe steps down. A stunning woman in a white dress takes his place. She has long silver hair and it doesn't take a genius to realize immediately what she is.

"A siren?" I lean in and ask Zorvan.

"Yeah. I've heard of a couple of troupes hiring them to try to get more money out of patrons."

"There aren't any laws against that?" Livarius asks.

"Are there laws against feeding from people if you're a vampire?"

"Fair," Livarius grumbles, and leans back in his seat.

We continue playing as the band starts back up and the siren begins her song. I try to tune it out, but my brain has been fogged up since Arden left, and pair that with the alcohol? I'm precisely who these types target.

It doesn't matter how many times I repeat to myself that I'm not interested. Her song latches on to something more animalistic and I begin to move toward her. Something in the back of my head is shouting at me to turn around and go back to the guys. I glance over my shoulder. The others aren't affected by her at all.

"Jarrah?" Zorvan says, and follows after me.

I can't speak. I can't stop myself. This is torture.

"Knock it off!" Zorvan roars at the band, and it's the last thing I hear before the only sound in my ears is her song.