Half Magic | Book 2

Four: A Friend of a Friend

"I suggest you eat, before you continue to make us look suspicious and I lose my chance to meet her," my dinner companion said.

"Meet who?" I whispered as I sat down. Begrudgingly I took a look at the plate in front of me. My mouth watered and I decided to go against my earlier judgement and take a bite. It was pretty good for a mountain of cheap warehouse district food.

"You look like you don't get food that often," the man commented with a smirk, ignoring my question.

I grimaced. "Not lately, I suppose."

By lately I mean not since Thanantholl.

Which was before the incident in the Sangolins.

Which was before my imprisonment in the Winter lands.

Which was before rescuing Schula and collapsing a wing of Icehold...

I was quicker to take a second bite this time, holding back the urge to shove it in faster, and watched the show. I wasn't going to admit it to a stranger, but he wasn't wrong in saying I could use more meat on my bones.

The wordweaver was making his way around the room, distracting patrons. I saw several cards slip into places they shouldn't be while eyes were elsewhere, mostly by the gambling house's game masters. No wonder they invited the wordweaver here, he must be great for business.

Tonight's tale was an old one, and one that every child in the city will have heard ten times over by the time they could tie their own slippers. Ugvar the terrible, a bandit raider that terrorized the sands and wielded an entire coconut palm as his club. He stood taller than the palace and had teeth made of jagged stone. That is, until the first Sultana slayed him and established Sulls.

I was surprised that the wordweaver would choose such a childish story for a place that catered exclusively to adults, but my dinner companion seemed to be engrossed in it so I stayed quiet and listened.

Tonight I tried to observe Kinza in a more studied manner. He didn't seem out of the ordinary. I didn't feel anything off of him like I did with the fae creatures. So how did he know what I was? And why did he taunt me to find him?

"Tell me something," Jaf said, bringing my attention away from the room for a moment. "Are you here at this table on purpose?"

My eyes darted to the lightly carved symbol on the table and back to Jaf. He nodded once and spooned another serving of orange peppers onto his plate.

"You had me wondering there for a minute," he said, his grin back in place. "You don't seem to know what you're doing."

"I sort of don't," I admitted. "The wordweaver left me a note and a token, and I ended up here."

Jaf looked at me, a spoon pausing halfway from his dish to his mouth. "You were... invited?"

"I suppose?" My brow furrowed. "You weren't?"

"No one is invited to see her, you have to go to her and hope she's willing to see you." He set his spoon down with a thud and gasped. "Do you have the coin?"

I stiffened. "Coin?"

"The coin you're granted by one of her followers that will allow you to see her!" he hissed. "You do, don't you? I'll pay you for it, whatever you want. Gold? My father has an iron hand on the spice trade in the plains, I can pay you anything."

The desperation in his voice was plain, and I backed away from him. I thought about moving to the next seat over, just to get away.

"No," I said. "This is the only lead I have, and I've been looking for a long time now."