Arwin’s mind raced even as his body locked in place. Someone knew who he was — someone that wasn’t part of the Menagerie. Thoughts raced through his head, each one replacing the previous before it could even begin to take form.
How is this possible?
Was Art here to threaten me and the Menagerie to try to get us to drop out of the competition? But if that was his goal, wouldn’t he have said something? Was he just waiting to get somewhere safer before he did?
Does he know something about the Adventurer’s Guild? Is he planning to tell them that I’m still alive… or has he already done that?
How could this have happened?
“Arwin!” Rodrick’s voice was like hot steel through butter, ripping Arwin’s attention back to the present to feel the blood pumping in his ears and his heart pounding in his chest.
“What?” Arwin asked, more tersely than he had meant to. “What do we do?”
“Do implies that something hasn’t already been done,” Rodrick said, putting a hand on Arwin’s shoulder. “You don’t think I’m so deeply outmatched by a child, do you? I know how you must be feeling — but take a big breath and get a hold of yourself.”
Lillia stepped out from the darkness and emerged into the dim orange lantern light illuminating the tavern. From the glimpses of her serious features that Arwin caught through the shadows, it was apparent that she’d come to the same conclusion.
For an instant, an old memory surfaced in his mind. She wore the same expression now that she had the first time they’d met on the battlefield. There was no room for anything but success within it.
She was deadly serious.
As Lillia walked, she flicked a hand. A tendril of dark energy coiled out from the ground, moving so quickly that none of the adventurers it passed by even noticed its presence until it was nothing but a passing shadow.
The shadow flicked out and wrapped around something near the ceiling of the tavern before jerking taut and slithering all the way down to the table beside Arwin. Arwin couldn’t see what it was wrapped around — not because it was too dark, but because there was nothing there.
Despite the situation, the corner of Arwin’s mouth curled up imperceptibly.
Someone was using invisibility to try to spy on us. That’s unfortunate. Nobody is safe from Lillia’s knowledge when they’re inside her tavern.
“Drop the skill,” Rodrick said, pressing the pads of his fingers together and leaning back in the chair. “I prefer to see who I’m talking to. And don’t try to run, please. I would hate for this to get violent.”
The air bound by the tendril rippled and a woman appeared within its grasp. She was in her early to mid 20s, with black hair bound into a lengthy ponytail by golden bands. Her features were strongly reminiscent of Art’s. She had pale skin almost to the point of being as white as Madiv.
Her expression was well controlled. Despite being bound, she didn’t look even slightly concerned.
A moment later, Lillia released her. The woman brushed her arms off. “How’d you know I was there? I’ve never been spotted before.”
“We’re capable of a number of things that most people don’t expect,” Rodrick said. He nodded to the chair beside Arwin. “Sit down.”
“Why?” the woman asked. “Your threats are nothing but air. We’re in a crowded tavern. I can walk right out and you can’t stop me. Even if you could prove I was lurking around, that’s not exactly illegal. We aren’t in some protected area.”
“You’re right,” Rodrick agreed. He leaned back in his chair and flicked his fingers dismissively. “We aren’t, and we can’t do anything to you here. Feel free to head out now. I’ll just leave you with a piece of advice and we can call it at that.”
“And what’s that?” the woman asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Buy a shovel on your way back to Thornhelm. You’ll need it for Duke Aleric.”
Fury washed over the woman’s features in a split instant. “Are you threatening my father?”
“Of course not. I don’t threaten. I do,” Rodrick corrected. “But in this case, this has nothing to do with me. I have no quarrel with Aleric. I’ve heard he’s a good man. Well-liked by those that live under him and hated by the guilds that try to push into his city. All bode well for a man’s character — and, unfortunately, bode poorly for his continued wellbeing when his many enemies sense blood in the water. I would never stoop so low to try to kill him, but I can’t say the same for your enemies, Vix.”
The woman stiffened at what must have been her name, but she didn’t question how Rodrick had figured it out. “You claim that there is a plot to kill my father?”
“Yes,” Rodrick said simply. “Now, off with you. I believe you were leaving.”
Vix’s jaw set. Unease gripped her posture and she shifted her weight, clearly trying to get a read on Rodrick and failing. “Why didn’t you tell Art?”