By Fairy Means or Foul: A Starfig Investigations Novel(41)

“Happens more than you think.” She laughed.

We sipped several more rounds of tea throughout the afternoon. Judag was a surprisingly good conversationalist. We shared another meal together as Judag told us all she’d seen in Rottingvale Quagmire. After a while, I called down to where Krofom and Quinn leaned their heads together. Quinn had spent the last hour chatting with the cyclops. “Hey, barkeep, any chance you’ll give us a room?”

Before I got the words fully out of my mouth, a key the size of my forearm was hefted and tossed in my direction. I caught it and almost tumbled off the stool, but managed to stay upright. “Thanks!”

I made my excuses to Judag and Quinn said goodnight to Krofom. The room, like the rest of the building, was giant sized, so I needed to lift Quinn up to the doorknob so he could unlock and open the door. Once we were inside, we made quick work of getting ready for bed and crawled into the big bed together. A stack of romance novels lay on the bedside table. Trysprite, Little Wyvern, and A Tale of Two Flitties: 11 stories of Fairy Porn were just a few of the choice materials. Giants liked their smut.

Quinn hadn’t said much throughout the evening. Seemed to be considering some things. I debated whether to ask him, but when he kept a good couple feet distance from me on the bed, I knew something was up.

“You want to talk about it?”

He stared at the ceiling, let out a long exhale. “I hate that I’m seen as some sort of pet. Like I don’t have a brain of my own.”

I rolled over on my side so I could better see his face in the dark.

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t see you that way. And you talked to Krofom for a long time tonight. He didn’t seem like he was talking down to you. Besides, it’s not that they think you’re stupid. It’s more like they struggle to understand you’re . . .”

“A person.”

“Uh yeah, pretty much.”

“That’s even worse. Brandsome always treats me like that, so you’d think I’d be used to it. Only I’m not. I’ll never get used to it.” He glared at me in the dark.

“I’m sorry. If I could do something about it, I would.” I paused, thinking about that. I didn’t know what Brandsome paid for Quinn, but I imagined he cost a pretty penny; Quinn really was striking. Being part dragon, I’d certainly accumulated a hoard over the years and I could probably afford the outrageous price . . . and since my dragon viewed Quinn as its mate, it didn’t protest the idea the way it otherwise might. On the other hand, my dragon half also whispered it would be so much easier to just eat Brandsome. Tempting, but not practical.

Quinn reached out a hand and stroked my cheek. He sighed.

“Thank you, Twig. You’ve been nicer to me than I deserve.”

“That’s not true.” I pressed my face into his hand, relishing the heat and feel of my mate—I mean, my supposed mate—touching me.

“It is.” He smiled sadly and my heart did a little thump in my chest.

“I could offer to buy you.”

He chuckled, the sound not a happy one.

“Brandsome won’t sell me. Not even for double my price.” He bit his lip, his eyes gleaming with unshed tears.

“Why?” He’d struck me as quite the businessman. He was always in need of money according to Quinn.

Quinn stiffened, removed his hand from my face. Before I could snatch it back, he wiped his eyes.

“Because . . . because he likes having me under his thumb. He knows I hate him and it amuses him. He’ll never give me up.”

I pulled Quinn into my arms and held him tight. He didn’t cry or anything, but he did snuggle into me like he wanted to climb inside my body. I kissed the top of his head, enjoying the smell of his hair, the way he fit so naturally into the curve of my body. I didn’t believe Brandsome couldn’t be bought. He bet his horn in a card game, after all.

No, he had a price. The only question was how much, and whether I was willing to pay it.





15





The next morning, we were up early and in the tearoom for a bite to eat before we set out. Krofom tended the bar but didn’t look at us, even when I ordered breakfast. He delivered some thick slabs of meat that would take teeth sharper than mine to make much of a dent. Quinn and I gave it our best shot. We also devoured a fresh loaf of bread with some sort of jam I’d never tasted before. Slightly sweet with a good dose of tang, it was surprisingly appetizing. Quinn seemed to think so too as he attacked it like a half-starved harpy. And naturally we drank more tea.

Quinn and I avoided talking about last night or even what we’d be facing today. I’d restocked our supplies in case we ended up in a similar situation to the Expanse. Couldn’t count on a ghost galleon coming to our aid this time. Definitely needed to rely on just the two of us.

I worried my lower lip between bites of breakfast. Maybe I should leave Quinn behind? I could come back for him once I retrieved the horn. Judag’s words about Quinn having no protection from the zombies hung over my head like an angry ghoul. I knew he’d never agree to stay. I could always enact the anti-resistor clause, but he would be furious . . . and more importantly, hurt. I sensed how much it mattered to him that I allowed him a measure of freedom. Taking it away wasn’t an option.

Or was it? Better alive and well than joining the ranks of Burningwood’s undead army.