132 Cloak and Dagger Part 1 (1/2)

\”What the hell are you doing here?\” Collin asked as he and Connor approached.

The lanky teenager was visibly nervous. For even as he spoke to me, his eyes darted left and right, searching for unseen eavesdroppers that might have been lurking in shadowy corners.

His brother looked equally tense.

\”We can't be seen here talking to these guys, Collin,\” Connor hissed.

\”Why not?\” Varda's fingers tapped on her chin. \”It's not like we've got a petrificurse on us.\”

Connor spared Varda a glance and an eye roll before his gaze swept the entrance to the courtyard.

\”The Black Hand has eyes and ears everywhere,\” he finished ominously.

His brother, Collin, handed me a slip of paper.

\”Meet us here in an hour,\” he whispered. \”We have some intel for you.\”

I glanced down at the slip of paper and read the three words written on it.

\”Cold Steel Brew…\” I recited. Then I glanced up and found the McCords already making their way out of the courtyard.

Both guys had pulled the collars of their coats up as if that made them any less conspicuous.

\”What now, Dean?\” Aura asked, looking certifiably mystified by what had just transpired. \”

I passed her the note.

\”Change of plans, I guess,\” I answered.

We left the courtyard with Varda and Thors each taking lead of smaller groups so they could find and scout this Cold Steel Brew and scout it out before Aura and I arrived for the meeting.

Should there be enough space, Varda and her fellow mages were instructed to find seats and pretend to be customers. Thor and the kobolds would keep watch over the front and back alleyway from a nearby vantage point.

As for me and Aura, we took a leisurely stroll through the packed streets, avoiding eye contact with slavers which wasn't as difficult as trying to ignore the suffering of the slaves around us.

At one point, I saw a fairy child, an elven girl no taller than Zarz, get poked and prodded by a bald, fat-bellied hobgoblin who felt nothing like the warriors I'd faced off against.

I reached down for my falchion's hilt but stopped once I felt Aura's hand on top of mine.

She pulled my hand gently away from my sword and held onto it while whispering in my ear, \”There's nothing we can do for them right now, Dean. But, I promise, when the time comes, my hand will join yours in the liberation of slaves.\”

I glanced sideways at her, and even through the golden mask, I could see the clear intent in her gaze. Aura would keep her promise.

So I let it go and lowered my eyes to the sickening sights around me while I let Aura dragged me along by the hand.

My first thought, I am so glad Luca wasn't around or else a repeat of our first night in Broken Sellsword's Canyon was a likely scenario.

To say that my face would be red for the rest of the journey to the Cold Steel Brew was an understatement. In fact, I was almost certain steam was blowing out of my ears by the time we'd arrived at the front porch of what appeared to be the seediest tavern in the entire city.

At some point during our wandering of the city streets—with me forgetting to activate Eagle Eye due to the blank state my mind was in—Thor had arrived to lead the way, although he kept his distance from us while he signaled for us to follow him.

He led us past a series of side streets and into an alleyway that dead-ended into a large outcropping of obsidian rock that had been roughly carved into a one-story block. It had a single opening which had been covered by saloon styled swinging double doors.

Unfortunately, there were no windows so we couldn't see inside, but Thor assured us that Varda's crew was already waiting inside.

\”No sign of those hoomans you were talking to, boss,\” Thor barked.

He nodded upward.

I followed his gaze and found half a dozen wolfish eyes gazing back at me.

Our kobolds were lined up along the edges of the many roofs looking down into the narrow street.

\”We've got this passageway covered, boss,\” Thor barked again, pointing a paw at the tavern. \”I sent three guys to watch the alley behind this fleapit.\”

I patted him on the head. \”Good job.\”

Sadly, it didn't elicit the response I'd hoped for. There was no wagging of the tail nor the satisfied smirk of a dog who'd just gotten a treat. All I got was a curt nod and a look that clearly said, \”Please stop touching my fur now.\”

Feeling strangely defeated by my new canine compatriot, I strolled into the nearly packed tavern, took one glance at my surroundings, noted the positions of Donar and Berrian by the bar as well as the table of rowdy dwarven mages near the lone fireplace, and picked the last empty table at the farthest corner.

Aura followed behind me.

She gave a quick smile at the rough-housing dwarves as she passed them, earning herself a grin from Varda before she sat on the seat wooden seat beside mine.