The Runner (Part I of the Runner Series)

Chapter 4

The atmosphere inside the pub is a startling contrast to the brightness outside. Here, the air is smoky and the light is dim. The bar's owner, Samus, prefers to keep it dark, as his customers are usually performing a private sort of business. Patrons gather around the low tables, laughing over their pints or participating in riotous, high-stakes card games.

I crane my neck, looking for some familiar faces before I elbow my way to the bar.

"Kay!" Samus' booming voice cuts through the din. "Been a while. Was beginnin' to think you forgot about us." He pulls down a mug, filling it with a foamy, frothy liquid.

Like most of the men in the City, Samus is tall and broad, a build well suited to the miners and bricklayers. The old bartender has been a fixture for most of my life; he worked alongside my father during his quarry days. That was back when Samus still had both his eyes.

"Aw, Sammy, you know I could never forget about you," I tease. "I've just been so busy lately, what with matters of diplomacy to attend to. You know how it is."

Samus throws back his greasy head and laughs. "Yes, that would be time-consumin'." He thrusts a frothing mug of ale at me, the cold liquid soaking my hand as I pick it up. "Thanks for stoppin' by. And don't forget to tip, mind." Unlike Harry, Samus would never neglect to pick up his dues.

I slide a coin across the counter and hold my mug high above my head as I shove my way back through the crowd, concentrating on not spilling my hard-earned drink.

Finally arriving at the back of the pub, I seek out our usual booth near a boarded-up window. Spots of light seep through the gaps, illuminating the two men crowding the table.

"Boys!" I announce my presence obnoxiously, slamming my mug down on the table and slopping its contents onto the rotting wood. "I have arrived. What's the good news?"

Shouts of laughter warm my cheeks. Edmun rises and grabs me a chair while Gordy shuffles to the side to make room. A heavy hand slaps my back as I collapse into my seat and take a healthy sip of my drink, surveying the table and grinning.

"Kay-kay! We were just talking about you." Edmun smiles brightly.

"How many times must I tell you, do not call me Kay-kay." I groan. "It was not all right when I was a child and it is not all right now."

A few years older than me, Edmun was the best friend of my brother, Frye. He works as a blacksmith, just as his own father did before him. Despite the fact that he is most often covered in a layer of soot, Edmun's chiselled features and easy sense of humour have always attracted a healthy amount of female attention.

"So you've been gossiping about me, eh? All good things, I suspect. You lot looked very deep in conversation before I came and broke up the party." I take another sip of my drink, raising my eyebrows questioningly.

"Only ever good things. Compliments on your stunt at the stables! That was a feat of beauty." Edmun crashes his mug into mine and throws it back greedily.

I flinch and cast a furtive look over my shoulder, digging my elbow into Edmun's ribs. "Lower your voice, you grease-pile. You forget that not everyone is as friendly as you."

I try to sound strict, but Edmun takes my chiding with typical good humour, chucking me across the chin.

"A bit heavy-handed on the flattery, aren't we, Ed? I heard there was a right embarrassing chase at the end, when they spotted her." Gordy stares right at me, even though his comment is directed at Edmun.

Gordy has always been on the fringes of our little group, but in recent years, with me being away so often, he has become a regular fixture. We have never been particularly friendly; Gordy's snide attitude and general shiftiness have always left me with a lingering sense of distrust. Edmun has only ever laughed and dismissed my reservations as jealousy over his attention.