Dragon Princess by S. Andrew Swann

Author:S. Andrew Swann [Swann, S. Andrew]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fantasy
ISBN: 9780698141063
Google: -GF-AgAAQBAJ
Amazon: 0756409578
Goodreads: 18667858
Publisher: DAW
Published: 2014-05-06T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 16

Up to now, I had been relying on an aura of confidence that was one part con game, one part knowing how to walk around this type of neighborhood, and one part the knowledge that Lucille was above me, watching. It had worked so far, no one questioning the presence of my doubly misplaced self.

I walked across the threshold of The Harpy’s Teat, and most of that seemed to evaporate. Half the eyes in the place glanced in my direction when I entered.

This establishment gave me a healthy appreciation for the charms of the dockside tavern where I had first met Elhared. I’m certain that I would have some difficulty finding worse smells along the wharf, and by comparison with the clientele here, the patrons of The Headless Earl were guests at a princess’s tea party. Some of the beverages being served made Mermaid’s Milk look positively appetizing, and the vile concoctions the old crone was selling across the street didn’t seem that bad in retrospect.

And, unlike The Headless Earl or that dockside tavern, most of the patrons here weren’t human. Walking into those other dens of comparatively bland iniquity as an attractive young woman would raise all sorts of worries. Walking in here, under the dirty gazes of ogres, goblins, imps, and the more feral types of fairies, I not only had to worry about potential rapists, but about someone desiring to gnaw on my bones after the fact.

My hand slipped down to my belt to rest on the hilt of the dagger I had liberated from one of Baldy’s minions. I wished for the fake Dracheslayer. Useless it might have been, but at least it had looked intimidating. For a few moments, I suspected that the crone across the street had sent me in here as some sick form of entertainment.

One of the nearest goblins—hairless, green-skinned, wiry, and with hands and feet a size and a half too large for his body—wiped the drool from his lips, got unsteadily to his feet, and weaved toward me.

“You losht, darlin’?”

It was hard to tell if the stench was from the goblin’s breath, or from the flagon he held a little too loosely in his hand as he gestured at me.

“No.” I answered quietly as I pondered ways to quietly extricate myself without escalating things. I figured, right now, most of the eyes on me weren’t yet focusing with predatory intent. At this point it was probably mostly curiosity over what in the Seven Hells someone who looked like me was doing in a place like this.

“Well, I’sh got a seat for you right here.”

“No, thank you.”

As my eyes adjusted and I saw deeper into the establishment, it became clear that, while the nominal business here was providing alcohol, the real business was the operation of various games of chance. Several ogres had already lost interest in me, and were turning back to their card games, and while I had the undivided attention of one goblin, a dozen others were ignoring me in favor of a large game of dice.

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