Thealos clenched his fist, looking over Flent’s shoulder at the Wolfsmen. “It would be better if you didn’t know. You mentioned there was a way out through the back. Where does it go?”
She shook her head. “I have a better idea. It’s dark out there tonight. You could get lost very easily and that wouldn’t help your friend find you. Besides, what’s to stop them from hurrying out the back after you? It might stall them longer if… they didn’t believe you were leaving.” She gave him a knowing look. Her hand rested on his arm flirtingly and then teased the hair along his ear. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, Thealos. Any number of girls down in the Wash would sell themselves for a drink of ale. But not here, not on these docks. And certainly not me. But do your friends over there know that?” She gave him a scrutinizing look. “You said you would make it worth my trouble. Flent can get a message to your friend when he comes. And I know plenty of places to hide you.”
A patron coughed roughly at the table next to them and dropped a few coins on the table before lurching towards the door. The noise in the common room would have made it difficult for anyone to overhear them.
Thealos looked at her seriously. She was intelligent, for a human. He risked a look back at the Wolfsmen. If he made it away, what would they tell Nordain? That he’d been seduced by a serving girl in Sol? Nordain would believe it, and without any coaxing. But Thealos hadn’t broken any of the Rules of Forbiddance since he left Avisahn. Without proof, what could Nordain really do? He looked into the serving girl’s cinnamon-brown eyes. She was pretty, in a dusky way. An expensive gold pendant dangled down her throat.
“What will it cost me?” he hedged.
“Why don’t you decide what it’s worth to you? If you were a Silvan prince, the ransom would be generous. I think I’m your best choice right now,” she pointed out. Her hand went lazily to his forehead, brushing his hair back. She gave him a flirting smile and then chewed on the corner of her mouth. “Come, my lord,” she teased. “Who is your friend? What’s his name?”
Thealos thought about it a moment longer and then quickly nodded. “I’m waiting for a Sleepwalker.”
Her eyes widened with surprise. “A Sleepwalker?”
“Do you know how to recognize one?” Thealos asked.
“Jaerod,” Flent said, staring at Thealos. “He plays Bones with me. Sweet Hate, if you’re with him, you must be a Silvan prince.” He looked at Ticastasy and gave her a solid nod. “Find him a nice hideout, ‘Stasy. I’ll pretend to fix the door, just in case they try and get out the front to follow you. Wait ‘til I’m there before you move.” The Drugaen pushed away from the table. He rubbed his stubby knees and started clomping across the tavern.
“Flent!” the tavern keeper called over the ruckus. “Another keg of Spider Ale! The tap is running dry. Don’t scowl at me…get down to the cellar!”
The Drugaen held up his pudgy hands and waved the tavern keeper away. He wandered towards the front door.
Ticastasy took Thealos’ hand and started caressing it with her thumb. “Let me see. Where should I take you? I could hide you at the Thumber Inn down the wharf. Or there’s a tavern on the Wash called Riverwink.” Her smiles were dazzling and flirting, but the eyes were calm and serious. It was all show. She leaned forward and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Or you could stay in my room until Jaerod comes.” She leaned back, giving him an amused smile. She licked her finger and wiped the dab of rouge from his mouth.
Thealos sat still, speechless for a moment. He’d never thought flirting could make him feel the effects of the wine so strongly. He was a little lightheaded and giddy. He decided to play along. Taking her hand in his, he kissed her knuckles deftly. “Do you offer that to all the Silvan princes you charm?” She smelled wonderful, like apples and mint.
A tiny gleam flashed in her eyes and was gone. “Only to green-eyed princes,” she said, giving him a warm smile – a real one. “Not gray, not blue, not violet. Never trust a gray-eyed prince. But you’d do better to be away from here. This city can swallow you if you’re not wary. And I know it better than any lass around. Good, he’s almost there. Come with me.” Squeezing his hand, she started to tug him after her.
Flent had just reached the door when it burst open, letting out an angry rush of wind. Thealos hoped it was Jaerod. Instead, a band of soldiers entered. Each had a crossbow slung over his shoulder, the wooden stock sloping and well-crafted. Their hair was long and swept back in the Inlander fashion. The uniforms were light riding gear, a mail shirt covered with a leather tunic and open at the sleeves.