Strife & Valor: Book II of The Rorke Burningsoul Saga by Regina Watts

Author:Regina Watts [Watts, Regina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Painted Blue Publishing (Painted Blind Publishing)
Published: 2021-04-08T22:00:00+00:00

A CALL FOR RESCUE

HOW LOW MY spirits were as I made my way back to the Mongoose! I ought not to have been, but somehow I was shocked by my conversation with Grimalkin.

Perhaps it was because, when I imagined myself confronting the dwarf, I had always pictured walking away from that confrontation with the Scepter of Weltyr in my hands. I was always like that in those days—prone to anticipating that the hardest task would arrange itself into some easy pattern for me. That perhaps Weltyr would somehow intervene in my work on his behalf and see to it that my accomplishments were natural and smooth.

But, of course, if Weltyr were inclined to intervene in these matters, what need would I have to work on his behalf? I tried to remember that all the way to the inn…just as I tried to remember that I ought not to have expected any grand change of heart in Branwen.

How sad it was to know for certain that she had not returned to the Nightlands out of unselfish concern for me! Instead, she had wound up down there simply because she had no other way to claim and pawn the Scepter.

No, it was not a surprise. She had disappointed me so sharply with her initial betrayal that, even after I and my companions saved her life from the bandits, I was still not able to fully trust her story. Yet I made myself agree to it without deeper inquiry, even if only to keep peace with our new companion while on our way to the surface.

And, in making myself agree to it, my heart forgot the sharp sting she dealt it in the den of the spirit-thieves.

My love for her had renewed itself more swiftly than I ever could have anticipated—and, now that she had spent a week with the durrow while I was in the enchanted arms of Gundrygia, she had become ensconced in our group as naturally as any one of the rest of us. I had to hope that her time staying with the durrow while I was away had truly affected the change I had already believed she experienced. But, in spite of this reminder to hope, I could not help the bitter displeasure that arose in me at the thought of seeing her in our room in the Mongoose.

Lucky for me—for a certain definition of the word ‘luck’—I was soon to find myself and everyone else distracted from the matter.

The Mongoose’s tavern was packed by the time I returned from my errands, workers having vacated their posts and come in for a drink or twelve at the end of the day. Barmaids scurried from table to table and a new man stood behind the bar. Though a mite more pleasant-looking, he still eyed me until I made my way upstairs with the confidence of any inn guest. After finding our room, I tried the knob and found it locked; I knocked on the door and waited. Indra’s lovely face filled the gap that cracked open.

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