The Cursed Deal ✓

Chapter 21

The empty plate sitting in front of Faine had held the beef pie minutes ago. Now that it was gone, as well as the mug of ale she paid the innkeeper for, Faine slumped down in the chair and tried to relax.

"There he is," Ilian told her.

Well, that was all the relaxing she received. A simple rub over her stomach, now full, and one deep breath before she had to return to work. She found little moments during the day that were hardly long enough for her to blink, let alone breathe. The chair she vacated wasn't anything of comfort, but sitting was better than standing so she leaned against the wall and stared out the side of the window, hiding in the shadow of the curtain.

Sure enough, walking down the street was the feliram from the pub. His hands stuffed deep crevices in his pockets and he walked with a hunch as if his hope was depleting by the second and weighing him down. "He's looking for me," Faine said quietly enough that her voice wouldn't echo through the window.

The feliram swooped to the side of the street and looked into the window of a saddle maker's shop. Nothing of importance greeted him, so he shook his head and cursed underneath his breath. Each step was a wobble and a stumble; he was drunk beyond his means and searching for a woman he'd likely already forgotten the face of.

"Surely his wife will be pleased to know he didn't sleep with a random feliram at a pub," Ilian decreed.

"No, but he was prepared to. As long as I got the material I need, that's all that matters. Besides, I never planned on sleeping with him, anyway."

The small space in the room was long enough for Ilian to walk across it in four steps and sit on the edge of the four-poster bed. The innkeeper had recognized Faine and promptly gave them the room she always asked for when she arrived. Which, in return, left them with one bed that she normally shared with Kaspar. At least the discreet nature of the innkeeper didn't bother to ask where he was, and why the hell she was with Ilian instead of the normal faces from Rising Eternity.

When she swore herself in ninety-nine years ago, she made a promise to never reveal what organization she worked for. The innkeeper didn't know she worked in Rising Eternity; Faine kept her mouth clamped shut, but that didn't account for everyone else that worked for the crime guild. It was common for those like Nalea and occasionally Kaspar to have an important piece of information slip during a casual conversation.

Ilian kicked off his boots and laid against the pillows, crossing his ankles together. "Are you sure about that?" he suggested with a quick narrow of his eyes. "You seemed more than happy to meet him again."

"Not him, not when I know he's married. It's not fair to his wife, whoever she is." Faine plopped down onto the other side of the bed, stomach first, and pulled out the notepad from her satchel. She scribbled down the tiniest bit of conversation she had with both the feliram and the gadigator, the name of the business they were to visit the next day and the physical descriptions of both beasts.

Ilian watched her carefully, taking notes of his own. Normally, at this point, Kaspar was taking a bath after eating dinner. They had a very strict routine when it came to Olhathas as there wasn't much to do in the city that didn't end in a fight. Hiding out in the inn room and putting together every bit of overheard intel kept them busy until night fell and not even the innkeeper downstairs would drag themselves out of bed to provide a warm meal.

Being easy company to keep, Kaspar didn't demand much. All that mattered was that Faine didn't kick him in her sleep and, to receive less cost on breakfast, she retrieved the meal. It was strange for Faine to think she'd grow into a routine with Ilian during these missions, anyone other than Kaspar and she scrambled for some sense of normalcy.