Fate and Destiny (The Fated Series, #2)

Chapter 9 - Lance - Comandante

Today has been shitty, and Fredal is just as hopeless as every other small town or full city. I have a rough understanding of each street and alleyway that leads to the main roads. If we had the time I'd scout the whole town myself and rememorize each building and its corners one by one until they fit together like puzzle pieces, but memorizing the street names and the layout of the town isn't going to bring news of my sister to me.

We got here mid-afternoon, instantly splitting up into three groups and fanning out. Mal, Ozzie, Henry, and Alex headed north, and Benny, Amel, Al, Gabe, and Ethan went south, leaving Darius, Vlad, Garrison, Winston, and I to go west. Eleven bells rang not too long ago from the four chapels each built in a section of the town, and we're waiting in the alleyway near an inn where we first split up from. Ten of us are accounted for and now wait for Mal's group to return. I'd be more concerned if I wasn't praying that their tardiness is due to having information. I look around the corner again and spot them walking toward us. My shoulders sag when I meet Henry's eyes and find them not eager to tell us anything they've found. Another night of disappointment. Great.

At the back of the alley Darius is weaving a strand of fire through his fingers, the others flipping the sticks they carried with them from one hand to another. They've got it down with the focus and practice they've been putting in, or so I keep calling it even though I know it's to occupy their anxiety. It's weird seeing the trick being done by someone else's hands other than mine. Not even Fauna found the skill to be necessary, though she does have a few tricks up her sleeve that I don't have. We like keeping each other on our toes.

I come up beside Alister who is now doing the knife flip with a dagger. I fight my urge to snatch it out of his hand before he draws blood, but then he's turning his wrist, and the next thing I know the blade's in his other hand. Now to only work on what he does after the quick switch because widening your eyes and throwing your fists in the air is a good way to lose the fight.

"Ha! I did it!"

"Showoff," Gabe murmurs, his now broken stick threatening to do some real damage to his imaginary oncoming opponent. He broke it in half trying to catch it during one of his trials. Pretty sure the entire town heard him curse against a twig.

I open my mouth to suggest finding a less filled inn for the night when a low gurgling noise breaks the silence. I follow it, as does everyone else, to Winston who stands with one hand over his stomach. "Maybe we should find somewhere to eat."

"Did we eat last night? Or today?" Alex asks.

"Nope," I answer, realizing that the lack of food might be the reason for my current impatient mood. Hangry, as my dear sister likes to call it. "I know a decent place close by, and there's usually rumors running through it that we might catch something." No one answers, and I take it as an unspoken agreement and walk back down the alleyway to the street.

Papa Pernell's is a somewhat well-known tavern. They have the best seasoned food in all of Adaeric. There's the main floor, which is where most people enter due to its plentiful seating for travelers and townsfolk to all fit in without having to squeeze past chairs and tables. People often think that the only way in is through the glass door that has their name painted on it, and it is, but for those who want to go unnoticed, there's a black door in the alleyway on the eastern side of the building that leads down into a dimmed seating area with tables and booths that are always cast in shadows. The last place in Fredal that could give us answers.

I walk past the front entrance and head to the black door. I knock the coded pattern against the steel, wait three seconds, and then twist the handle and open the door. There's some sort of witch enchantment on the door, allowing only those who know the code to enter. Fauna and I used to sit in the shadows and watch as drunks tried knocking the pattern in. It was entertainment for when we were bored, as well as a puzzle to wonder where the Pernell found a witch to lay the spell. Sometimes we'd even sit on the roofs in the afternoons to watch people pass and try to guess which of the passerbys were the witch in question.