The Twelfth Moon || ✔️

37. Muffled Whispers

          He looked me over and shook his head. "It's too busy for an outfit change. Just go serve them like that."

          I nodded as I plastered a smile on my face and made my way over to the booth. Their conversation took a halt when I arrived at their table. "Gentlemen," I addressed them. "What can I get you?"

          The three men looked up at me. I hoped they didn't notice my heart beating like crazy, or my scent. I didn't find it in my heart to have to explain to Talek why sending me over to this table might have been an even worse idea than serving them himself.

          I didn't want to be recognized. Not here.

          "Three ales," one of them spoke in a raspy voice.

          "Will that be all?" I asked them, as politely as I could. I was hoping another man would answer my question.

          Unfortunately, the same man answered. "Yes," he grumbled.

          "Coming right up," I sang. As I turned around to leave back for the bar, the man on the right sniffed in the air.

          Sun burn me.

          He squinted his eyes at me and took in my soaked t-shirt. He shook his head. "Make sure you don't spill those," he said.

          "Of course," I said, and I hurried back to the bar. They hadn't smelled me out, I didn't know how they weren't able to do so. But more importantly, I knew what they sounded like. And that would only make it that much easier for me to recognize their voices in this ocean of chatter.

          They didn't resume their conversation until I'd dropped off their three ales. I slid back behind the bar and tried to fix my hearing on the two voices I'd now heard.

          It took me a short while to locate their conversation. Especially because they were talking in a lower than average volume, which only made me all the more curious about whatever it was they had to say.

          I had to juggle to keep eavesdropping and serving customers at the same time, if I didn't want Talek to put me on the stand. That'd surely put some unwanted attention on me.

          I managed, but that meant I was only able to hear snippets of their conversation. I couldn't make much sense of it.

          "Do we know who it is?" One of them spoke.

          The second man shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Would we be sitting here if we did?" He sneered.

          "We know who it is, though," the third one replied.

          "Is that so?" The second grumbled again. He took a big sip of his ale, drinking away whatever was troubling him. It didn't seem to work as he spoke again, his tone not any lighter. "We only know the Shadowed Death is slimming down our forces. Or do you know something we don't?"

           Bertel snapped me out of my focus. "Hello, girl," he rambled. "I'm out of ale!" His words sounded slurred already.

          You've had enough anyways, I thought. However, as Talek had mentioned, the customers' drinking habits were of no issue to us, as long as they paid their orders. "Let me take care of that," I said to Bertel, with perhaps the fakest smile I'd ever put on.

          I slid him his drink and took his coin, all the while trying to focus my hearing back to the conversation the wolves were having in the back.

          "Think Aven is involved?" The first one asked.

          The second one sighed. "It would be immensely bad if he was. He's the Alpha."