I saw Dyter’s expression tighten in warning out of the corner of my eye.
The biggest Druman dropped several coins on the counter, way too many for the stew, and scanned the room, not even bothering to glance my way.
“I need ale,” a gray-haired man barked, taking a seat next to them. “And make it quick, wench.”
“Manners don’t cost a thing, old man, but your ale will be twice the price if you call me that again.” I dropped the tray on the bar and turned to get the rude codger his mug.
One of the Druman moved closer to the man, and I listened, trying to pick out the conversation.
“What do you mean?” the Druman asked in a low voice.
“Oh, you missed the revolution,” the old guy chortled. “Caltevyn is the ruler now. Our Phaetyn comes out at night to heal our land. That way the Drae can protect her.”
One of the other men grimaced and added, “He also killed hundreds of the rebels and torched our Harvest Zone. A mixed bag, that one.”
Drak. How did he know all that? I wasn’t sure even Dyter knew I still went out to heal the land. I glanced at him, and the glower he wore let me know this was news to him. That didn’t explain how the old man knew.
“Does the king still keep the Phaetyn? We’d very much like to meet her. Emperor Draedyn is most anxious to have her visit.”
The old man chuckled. His gaze flitted my way, and his face seemed to blur a moment. I blinked, but when I looked again, his weathered features were back in place.
“Caltevyn would love to keep her, but she refuses to stay there,” the old man said.
“Where does she stay? It’s hardly safe to let his only Phaetyn wander,” said the brawniest of the three. The two other Druman were also focused on the strange man.
“Lord Tyrrik won’t let her out of his sight, so she’s plenty safe. Although why a Drae would be interested in a Phaetyn is anyone’s guess.” The man raised his eyebrows at me. “Were you going to bring me that drink, Ryn?”
My heart stopped.
How did he know my name? I’m sure there was an explanation for it; perhaps he’d overheard Dyter. I filled another mug and set it down in front of the old bloke, my anxiety climbing as he assessed the beverage but didn’t pick it up.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” I breathed. He’d yelled at me through the kitchen for it only a minute before. “Why are you even—”
“Ryn,” Dyter warned.
I snapped my mouth shut with a click of my back teeth.
Several things happened at once. The three Druman stood and drew weapons, wicked curved swords with blades the color of blood. The noise in the tavern switched off as though a tap had been turned, and the silent and frantic crowd scrambled back to give the men space.
Lord Tyrrik appeared next to me. I tilted my head up and, as expected, his eyes were all midnight black, and ebony scales had appeared on his forearms and neck. As I watched, his fangs slid down.
The old man disappeared, the air shimmering for a few seconds before a man with silver hair and pointy ears sat in his place. A stunning man. He drew out a short blade the color of his hair and balanced it on the tip of his forefinger, eyes sliding to the standing Druman.
“Are you boys looking for a fight?” the stunning man asked in a lilting voice.
Tyrrik swore long and hard in Drae. The shadows gathered around him, heeding his call, and the strange flickering blue color in his onyx scales flashed for all to see. He stepped behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me to him, a menacing sound rumbling in his chest.
I stiffened and tensed to shove away from him, but he grabbed my bare wrist and spoke in my mind. Not now. I need to get you out of here. You can be angry at me later.
The darkness continued to coil around us, wrapping us in its silky embrace. Tyrrik pulled me closer. This was the first time I’d let him touch me since we’d left the castle, and something in my chest felt funny with the contact. Probably indigestion.
Come with me now. Tyrrik moved us out of the tavern room in a blur that left my head spinning. I gasped and opened my eyes to find we were in the back alley, and Tyrrik’s skin was rippling with black scales.
“No, Tyrrik,” I screamed. I knew what would happen if he turned into a dragon. My heart ripped and bled, the pressure mounting in my chest. “Please,” I begged. “Don’t shift here!”
The air around Tyrrik shimmered, and I covered my head, ducking as an inferno of heat erupted. The heat grew, sweeping upward, billowing and coiling until all I knew was the consuming warmth of the Drae.
My pounding heart settled as the sensation dimmed, and I uncovered my head.
Then blinked.
“Holy pancakes,” I murmured. I was standing between two huge, onyx-scaled Drae legs. “Holy pancakes,” I repeated, edging out. “Please don’t squish me. The community will be devastated.”
The Drae was oddly still. As I crept past Tyrrik’s armored chest and came alongside his giant fanged head, I saw why.
“The tavern,” I mouthed. The back half of Dyrell’s tavern was demolished, Tyrrik’s Drae butt now sitting where the kitchen used to be. It was the second tavern he’d demolished, and even though I hadn’t owned either of them, both The Crane’s Nest and The Raven’s Hollow had been safe-havens in my life.
“You ruined my tavern!” I grabbed at Tyrrik, and he lowered his head. Holding either side of his Drae face, I narrowed my eyes at his slightly sheepish expression. “You are so paying for that,” I snarled, staring into his inky eyes. “In coin, not carrots.” I released his head and sank to my knees. “Everything . . . I’ve worked for. In ruins.”
Tyrrik nudge me with his snout. It’s only been three days.
He breathed out warm air, and I shivered as it hit my back. Glancing back to shoot another insult his way, my breath caught as bright blue rippled through his scales in a wave.
“Why do they do that?” I whispered, getting to my feet. I laid my hand on his scales, and as I did, the blue flickered in its depths. Warm tingles ran up my arm, and the skin where my scales had started to appear pulsed. “What is that?”
But shouting and screaming broke my trance before he could answer.
“My patrons.” I burst into a run down the alley, leaping over the rubble of Tyrrik’s transformation. I got to the end, and a whining crack had me whipping back around.
Tyrrik was squeezing through the alley after me, demolishing the rest of The Raven’s Hollow and the wall of the store next to the tavern as he did so. Lifting his head, he huffed at me.
“I don’t believe this,” I muttered.
I was not waiting for him and his stupid Drae butt to squeeze from between the two buildings. I sprinted to the front and rounded the corner, skidding to a stop.
The crowd was outside and staring at the tavern in shock. Hopefully all of them got out. People from the nearby businesses poured into the dirt streets, and I scanned the increasing mass of humanity for the one person who mattered most. I heaved a sigh of relief when I saw him.
Dyter caught sight of me and hurried to my side.