Chasing Shadows

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The Bear Star was settled at the top of the hill beside the main road leading inland and overlooking the harbor. Only the lighthouse stood on higher ground. The common room included a deck and large windows facing south out to sea to take advantage of the impressive view. Further inland on the premises, the stables and wagon house even dwarfed the inn, itself not small.

In short, this handsome establishment was one of, if not the, finest of its kind in Fairbanks. Able ran his fingers around his purse as though he didn't already know how many were in there. He stopped himself, pulled his hand from his pocket, and took a deep breath. At least take a look inside and ask. He'd be getting twelve cees tomorrow, so one night here could be manageable.

Inside, the ale was already flowing. About twenty men had gathered at the tables near the windows laughing about something while watching the sun set. A smaller group of women clustered around one table in a corner with their heads close together to hear each other over the ruckus. Able caught himself staring before he'd been at it too long, hopefully. Men and women didn't share the same public spaces like this in Blueport.

Able could smell but not see any food, so dinner must be forthcoming. He shifted his bag higher on his shoulder then made his way over to the solid wood counter, where he found a charming copper bell and rang it.

"Be right there!" or something similar to that came muffled from behind the door.

Able ran a finger over the grains in the shiny wooden counter, found it smooth as tile, and wondered at the material. He set his bag down and focused on the conversation behind him. It seemed that most of the men were wagoneers chatting about the state of the roads.

Soon enough a young woman came through a side door and hurried over while wiping her hands on her apron. Her dress fell to a modest ankle-length, while her eye-catching golden hair was pinned up in a way that accentuated her long neck.

This inn girl explained to him that not only were the rooms fifteen cees for a night, nearly half less than expected, but the price would be further reduced if he booked multiple nights at a time. He was left floored and awkwardly staving off the girl's apologies that the price didn't include meals. To keep his plans open, he asked for only the single night and was pleased they had a room with an east-facing window available. He signed in the book where she pointed and then she handed him a key with a "3" on it.

"Dinner should be served in twenty minutes," she informed, closing her book. "Would you like me to show you to your room?"

"Sure," Able agreed and tried to think of questions he might ask her as he followed her up the stairs.

She beat him to it. "So what're you here for, Larbander?"

"I...is my accent really thick or something? You're not the first to know right away."

"It's not...thin." She raised a dubious eyebrow at him.

"All right, then, what do you mean by that?"

"You're as brown as a beechnut." Both eyebrows were up now.

Able glanced down at his hand. Was this a local expression? "What's a beechnut?"

"It's...it's a nut? From a beech tree?"

"That is brown?" Able mimicked her upward inflection then chuckled to let it go. Most mainland peoples still looked much the same as they had in their historic kingdoms before the present age of shipping empires, but populations in the ports had since begun to look much the same one to another. Strange that this port would still have that much distinction.

"First time in Fairbanks, yeah?" The inn girl was not hiding her smile very well if that's what she was trying to do.

"First time in all of Borealund, actually."

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