A New Light (The Astral Wanderer Book 1), D'Artagnan Rey [best romantic novels to read .TXT] 📗

reminded them. “It might not be likely but I did notice some wildkin in town.”

Devol nodded and recalled their features. “I saw a verta wildkin in the merchant row who looked like a deer, so maybe people around here are accustomed to wildkin.”

“Most in Monleans and Britana are,” she confirmed. “The homina wildkin kingdom is in Monleans lands, and the verta kingdom island is off the coast of Britana in the Pendragon Ocean, so they are more common in these parts.”

“I don’t remember seeing that many growing up,” he admitted. “There was Mrs. Rena—another guard captain who worked with my father—and a few others in the city, I think, but most were traveling merchants.”

“Many wildkin are nomadic,” she informed him. “At least in youth and when out of the kingdoms. I suppose that would make me something of a special case.”

“I’m glad you are,” Devol said with a smile. Jazai flinched and stopped in mid-chew as his gaze drifted to him. Although it hadn’t been intentional, he might have stepped on a sore spot. “Otherwise, we probably would never have met. I think we’ve gotten along great so far.”

The diviner looked at Asla, who wore a perplexed look for a moment before she smiled. “I suppose there are benefits to my situation. I am lucky, all things considered.” Jazai drew a quick breath of relief and continued to eat his meal.

“What do you mean you are cuttin’ me off?” A loud, belligerent shout stilled the conversation in the dining area. The group looked at the bar, where a tall man in slightly tarnished armor was on his feet and yelled at the barkeep. “I’m fine! I’ve had a long spell of travelin’ and simply want to relax. You’re turning profit away, old man.”

“You’re redder in the face than the leaves of the trees, pal,” the other man chided. “I can’t have you collapsing outside the establishment—or plastered while carrying that ax of yours.”

“He has an exotic,” Jazai noted and gestured to the man’s waist. Devol narrowed his eyes and studied the one-handed, double-bladed ax, and he noticed a rune carved into the flat side of each blade and an enchanted pommel.

“I said I’m fine!” the man roared and slapped his hands on the bar. The barkeep folded his arms and inclined his head toward the door. A few men in the dining area stood in case the aggressive drunk tried anything. Doors from the kitchen opened and a few of the larger staff members walked out. The inebriated patron noticed their presence and looked over his shoulder before he grunted and stormed away. “Fine! I’ll find another bar that respects my cobalt.” He all but spat the words as he shoved the inn’s main door open and slammed it behind him.

Those customers who had stood now sat again and continued to eat, while the staff returned to their duties. A couple headed to the bar to check on the older man as the three friends returned to their meal.

“That was a very nice exotic,” Devol mentioned. “But his armor wasn’t well-kept. And if he spends money on drinks and overlooks something like that, my guess is that he didn’t buy it.”

“It could be an heirloom,” Jazai suggested with a shrug as he finished one of the chicken breasts. “Although if you’re implying he stole it or won it from someone, those also seem likely. They aren’t as precious as they used to be, after all.”

“Finished,” Asla declared and slid her plate away with a contented sigh. Jazai and Devol stared down at the clean plate with amusement and surprise respectively.

“You were much hungrier than you let on,” the swordsman mused.

“I finished cutting the fish while everyone was distracted,” she explained and tapped her pointed nails together. “It made it a much faster process.”

“You can simply enjoy a meal now and then.” Jazai chuckled. “It’s not like we’re going anywhere until that courier arr—”

Shouts and a series of loud noises from outside the inn startled those in attendance. Devol looked at his teammates. The other boy was about to take another spoonful of mashed potatoes but he sighed and placed the spoon on his plate. “You want to check it out?” he asked. His friend nodded. “Bored or worried?”

“A little of both, I suppose,” the young swordsman admitted.

The diviner frowned and glanced at Asla, who rubbed her claws together. She met his gaze and shrugged and he stood with a sigh. “Fine, but I swear to the heavens if my food is cold when I get back, I’m taking some of yours.”

“You don’t have to come,” Devol said as he pushed from his seat and headed toward the door with the others close behind.

Jazai grinned cheekily. “Ah, guess I’m a little bored too.”

As they hurried out to see what all the commotion was about, a figure watched them idly. He had listened to the various conversations around the inn while he waited for a certain group to wander past. With a smile, he ran a hand through his violet hair. It seemed he had found his target.

Chapter Twenty-Five

When Devol stepped outside, a crowd of people huddled in a circle in the town’s square and a shattered cart with spilled jugs of ale and wine stood nearby. He and his friends pushed through as someone cried out and something landed with a loud clang. For a moment, he was afraid someone had been killed, but his fears were assuaged when he reached the center. Two men in uniforms with a red crest on their chests and arms signaling that they were city patrol sprawled on the road but they were still breathing.

“Damn guards,” a drunk, bitter voice mumbled. The warrior from the inn breathed heavily and stood over the guards with his ax in hand. “My day has been bad enough. Don’t need you to make it worse.” He turned and focused on the crowd as if he had only now noticed them. His irate gaze became an angry glare as