The Rest is Riddles

Chapter 2: Wanted

The avtorka jumped.

But it was only the courier, arriving with their meal. Nikolay slid the door open a crack to accept their food, then bolted it before the courier could take a good look inside. He set the soup down on the floor and uncorked the wine bottle the innkeeper had sent. It was not good quality vintage, but it was also far from the worst thing he'd ever drunk.

"What are you doing?" Jane said, as he reached for a second glass.

"Getting drunk—what does it look like?"

"I thought you said we might get attacked tonight!"

"So?"

"But—" Her voice rose in panic. "We have to be alert to fight them off!"

He shot her a cool look and finished the glass, setting it down with a thud on the table.

"Even if we don't get attacked tonight," he said, pouring another generous helping of wine, "our odds of surviving the invading Kanachskiy army are next to zero. And if we somehow make it across the front lines, into Kanach itself without detection, do you think either of us would be able to pass for Kanachskiy citizens? Perhaps I could, but you—"

"Lidea gave us disguise spells."

He shook his head and lifted up the wineglass. She yanked it from his grasp. He shrugged and reached for the bottle.

"Anyway," he said, tipping it back. "If thieves do attack, I won't be the one to fight them off, will I? Unless you give me some of your magic..."

"You wish." Lips thinning to a line, she yanked the bottle out of his hand and thrust the bowl of soup at him instead. "Eat this," she snapped. "I can barely deal with you when you're sober, and I certainly don't plan on dealing with you drunk."

"Charming as ever, avtorka." He sniffed the soup and scowled. "Drunk may be the only way I could be persuaded to eat this."

"Considering how much magical marbleized toast Somitans eat, I'd have thought you would've jumped at the chance to eat normal soup. Even if it is... mostly gristle."

Nikolay didn't even bother to dignify this with a response. He turned his attentions to the repulsive soup, trying to force a few mouthfuls down. When he looked up again, Jane was bent over the bed. For a moment he thought she was checking the bed for vermin. Then he realized she was laying pillows in the center of the mattress to divide the bed in two.

She caught his eye. "Dare to do anything tonight," she said, "One single thing, and I'll..."

She faltered.

"...Yes?" said Nikolay. "Do continue. What will you do to me? Tie me up? Torture me? Burn me with magic, watching as I scream in agony? At least be creative with your threats, avtorka. Otherwise you'll never be taken seriously." He rose from his chair. "I'm going out."

"Out?" Fear flared in her eyes. "I thought you said it was dangerous and the entire world wants you dead! Plus, you're tipsy. Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"I want to assess the danger. I won't be gone long. Keep the door bolted while I'm out, dear."

He thought she might try to stop him, but she stayed on the bed, arrayed in grim silence as he let himself out of the room.

Perhaps the wine had dulled his senses. Objectively, he knew this was not a good idea. But he was restless from hours astride a wyvern, and he needed to learn more about the state of the kingdom. Knowledge was power—and right now he was powerless in literally every way imaginable.