The Weaver's Source

Chapter 65

The warm air of Milcent's inn was a welcome change to the bitter and wet cold outside. Drenched and shivering, I entered the din with slightly blue skin. Grigore closed the door behind me and kept himself close as he fished out the key from his pack.

The noise had died down. Either men had done home or had fallen asleep at the tables with tankards still clasped in their filthy hands. Some still sang and chatted noisily but it wasn't nearly as deafening as it was before.

At the bar, Milcent's gaze latched onto me and a relieved smile spread over her face. She abandoned cleaning the craggy surface of her bar and shuffled over to me.

With a massive grin, she grasped my shoulders. "You're safe." She said with relief.

"I am." I replied warmly. "The Lord Master just wanted to hire Grigore."

Grigore grunted behind me and remained silent as Milcent looked up at him.

"I'm surprised you're not starting tonight. It's not exactly a secret that the Lord Master fears what's hunting him." She glanced around then lowered her head and voice. "There's whisperings that he's been offering some of his manservants' blood as a peace offering."

"It wouldn't surprise me." Grigore replied calmly as I squirmed with disgust. "Some men have done that before many times and it's worked. Sometimes anyway."

Milcent shrugged. "Well if anything befalls him it wouldn't do our city any good. The Lord Master may be strict and unpleasant and as warm and caring as a frozen winter night but he is making our city grow wealthier. We need it. With the coming winter, we'll need to horde in as much food as possible, more than we can grow or kill ourselves."

Grgore took the quiet hint. "I'll try to keep him alive." He vowed half-heartedly and leaned against the wall, weaving a small ward that sent pleasurable shivers down my spine.

Milcent smiled then ruffled my wet tangled hair. "You can stay with me while your man works."

"He's not my man, Milcent." I reminded her, pausing when I felt irritation stir behind me. I glanced at him but Grigore was fixed on his ward, his jaw tight and his eyes hooded. "I'm going with him." I said, turning my attention back to her. "I want to help him find the monster."

Milcent frowned. "But you're all frail and tiny. It wouldn't take much to end you."

"I'm helping him." I said firmly, pressing my pal lips together. No one was going to persuade me not to, not while there was no direct threat to me in the Lord's home.

"And nothing's going to harm her." Grigore growled a little dangerously.

Milcent folded her arms and her eyes grew worried. "I see I can't stop you but be careful. Four people have died this last two weeks. Whatever is lurking in those dark, dank halls of the Lord Master's is a killer. So you be careful." She said, wagging a finger at my face, then stepped aside, indicating to the narrow hall in the far corner. "Your room is down there. I've got a fire going and some warm water ready so you can clean yourselves. Go and rest. I'll wake you at dawn with food then you can get to work." She hesitated, her eyes glancing between us. "I can set up a separate room for you, Lyra, seeing as he's not yours."

Grigore crushed the ward and rose irritably. "She stays with me." He said roughly, causing Milcent to smile slyly.

I thanked her as Grigore hauled me after him. We disappeared into the narrow passage that was lined with doors and flickering candles. I shuffled after Grigore, shivering slightly still as I waited for him to unlock the door then nearly tripped when my legs failed to start up again.