“Oh! You know of that thieving little mongrel?” She interrupted. “Where is he?”
“Now you need something else from me. Bumping into you has suddenly named me an information booth.” Ronan lifted his hand and wagged a finger. “This is Fullerk. Everything has a price.” He straightened and the woman’s yellow-flecked eyes widened. “I’ll answer whatever questions you have if you will join me for a drink.”
“Where?”
“The tavern across the street,” Ronan answered.
“Why not this one?”
“Because the loud mouthed horseman I am traveling with would not see me with you if we remain here.” Ronan grinned, leaning toward her. “The truth is that my friend saw you come into this tavern. I was actually looking for you when you tried to trample me.”
“I did not try to trample you.” Still she laughed. “Why were you looking for me?”
“Because I couldn’t stop looking at you earlier today. I saw you in the street and my friend is under the impression that I am too old for a woman like you.” Ronan decided to use the truth. It was easier that way. And as long as she was smiling, he might find out why she was looking for him.
“A woman like me? You mean a changeling like me?” She met his eyes as he shook his head.
“I mean a woman who is as young and pretty as you.” Ronan cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable with the words he’d said. “Come, you can do me this favor, even if I am too old. It would serve my friend right and I will give Mikel the Hort to you in the morning.”
“He is yours to give?”
“As long as he remains scared of my ox of a friend he is.” Ronan chuckled. She stared at him for a long moment.
“Very well. I’ll give your friend the show you want.” She smiled when Ronan blinked with surprise. He stepped toward the stairs and held out his hand, indicating she should go first.
“A gentleman?”
“Just afraid you’ll fall on me and break my neck.” Ronan smiled as she passed him and her laughter drifted back up to him. He’d never had a woman this beautiful be seen with him. As he followed her downstairs and into the street, he studied her black hair and bronzed skin. He’d seen the faint gold coloring around her neck but it hadn’t changed the fact that she was beautiful.
She had not pressed him for his name. And he wasn’t going to give it to her until he found exactly why this beautiful changeling was looking for him. Despite her exterior, she could prove a dangerous threat to the safety of the sword.
“Which one is your friend?” She turned to look back at him when they stood outside.
“That ogre standing there.” Ronan nodded toward Keegan. “He’s not a bad fellow really. And he knows his way around these parts pretty well. But he can climb onto one’s nerves at times.”
“Handsome though.” She grinned when Ronan groaned. “Come on, then.” She slipped a hand beneath his arm, pressing her side against his.
His grin widened when Keegan looked up, mouth falling open, and he almost dropped his ale. “If I forget later, I thank you for this.”
“Who is the young one gaping from beside him?” She lowered her voice as they neared.
“He already worships me. It’s the big one I wanted to impress.” Ronan was surprised when she turned, curling her fingers in the lapels of his coat. Walking backward, she tugged at his coat, urging him to walk with her toward the entrance of the tavern. Up the stairs to his room, she giggled when he closed the door behind him.
“Was that a good enough show for you to answer whatever questions I want?” She asked in a low voice.
“Almost,” Ronan answered and dipped his head. He did not kiss her hard, only tasted of her mouth while waiting for her to demand that he release her. She did not. She gasped but her lips submitted to his with no resistance.
There was a thump on the door. “Go away,” Ronan murmured against her mouth. Another thump sounded, this time more heavily. He growled and stepped backward pressing against the wood grain. The third thump was forceful enough to jerk through his body.
“Yore, I will run you through if you do not leave me alone!” Ronan warned and the woman chuckled lowly from within his arms. He set her to her feet and turned when the thumping did not stop.
Ronan threw open the door. “I have a sword with your name on it, Keegan!” But his eyes widened as they landed on the centaur Bryan’s deep chest.
“Busy?” Bryan tilted his head, looking past Ronan at the woman. “At least she is better than the one I last saw you with. I pray that you left the witch with a dagger in her black heart.”
“I did not.” Ronan sent the woman a glance over his shoulder, “You should leave.”
“That is a centaur,” she said as if he were stupid.
“Yes, I know.” Ronan took another step backward. “We are old friends. He won’t hurt you if you leave now.”
“You should have killed the witch. You know you should have.” Bryan reached to light the lantern on the shelf by the door. “She killed my brother.”
Ronan moved forward, suddenly angry. “You were about to kill the boy. You cannot threaten death without expecting someone to do what they must to protect themselves.” Ronan shook with sudden anger. Light filled the room, glowed out from the lantern and Bryan faced Ronan, looking in his eyes. His nostrils flared.
“Nice shave.” Bryan flipped his hair back over his shoulder. “I saw what happened at the river.”
Ronan turned to the woman. “Leave us. I thank you for what you did but you should leave us now.”
“Why?” the woman asked.
Ronan’s lips twitched despite the situation. “Do you never run out of questions?” Her eyes dragged from the centaur to rest on Ronan. “I’ll be fine. Go.”
“He’ll not be fine. He’ll end up like his friends if he isn’t careful.” Bryan nodded when Ronan whirled. “I told you I would use the weapons you gave me.” The sound of metal breaking free its sheath filled the room and the point of the sword rested at the center of the centaur’s chest. The woman gasped but Ronan didn’t look back at her.
“If you killed them I will…”
“They are alive.” Bryan’s eyes flicked down to the blade. “If I don’t return in twenty minutes with the sword, they will not remain that way.” Ronan’s hand shook but was certain it could not be mistaken for fear. His breath deepened.
“Where are they?”
“Give me the sword. Go home,” Bryan said softly. “That is where you want to be.” Ronan shook his head. Ahearn, find Keegan. Bring him to me. He did not know if he was even sending the thoughts out correctly. He prayed desperately though that the horses were listening. Sorcha, get Ula to safety. Dermot, you get Arien.
“You cannot use that sword.” Ronan had forgotten that the woman was there, behind him. She’d moved closer.
“Oh, yes, I can use it.” Ronan smiled as he heard hooves clomping quickly up the stairs. Bryan looked behind him and Ronan lifted the blade and brought it flat against the centaur’s head.
“No bloodshed.” Ronan nodded approvingly at his blow as the centaur slumped heavily against the wall. “Now everyone can be happy.” He turned to the woman, grabbed her hand.
“Come. You don’t want to be here when he shakes off the pain.” Ronan gave her hand a pull, smile widening when Ahearn halted in the corridor, Keegan’s sleeve gripped in his teeth.
“Damn you, Culley! What is this about?” Keegan snatched his arm from the horse’s mouth.
“Culley?” The woman repeated with surprise in her voice,
“No time for explanations. We need to get moving.” Ronan heard Bryan groan from the room. “Quickly.”
“No, wait. If you are Ronan Culley, I can handle this situation.” The woman argued but Ronan gave her arm a rough jerk.
“He will use you against me,” Ronan ground out when she jerked back.
“I am no one’s weapon. I am Fiona Magle of the Serpentine Warriors. The wizard Thestian sent me here to meet you and escort you to Merisgale.” She put her arm out, pushing the blacksmith behind her when the centaur stumbled from the room holding his head.