Edgewise

31

The smoky whiskey scent of the Edgewise was tangled with spice. Mack breathed it in as his shoes settled on the tavern floorboards, catching the sounds of laughter that seeped up from the common room below.

The sound and smell were distracting but he still felt it, the faint pluck and tug of the Edgewise rifling through his mind. It was subtle, likely he only felt it because of the binding he'd placed on the picture, and he was careful not to react. There were too many unknowns in play, and his uncertainty of the tavern's motivations left him in a great disposition. That the Edgewise plotted against him on any level was a demonstration of how vastly he underestimated the depth of sentience the tavern possessed.

A daunting prospect when coupled with the mystery figure joy riding through the realms to lure him away. He was so distracted by his thoughts he didn't notice his apprentice until she loomed up in front of him at the foot of the stairs.

"Now, I know you said no arguing but, hear me out--"

Mack scowled. "No."

"But could you just--"

"No."

"You could use me--"

"No."

Calponia's nostrils flared as she inhaled deep for patience. "Would you care for some curry, boss-man?" He didn't like the calculating glint in her eyes.

"You made...curry?" His gaze drifted away to center of the room, where the gathered group occupied a table that sported a massive cauldron. So that was the source of the heavenly aroma.

"Oh you really must try some, old boy," said Prospero, easing back with a satisfied pat of his gut. "I swear, the young lady cooks with a skill to rival the tavern itself."

He almost missed it when her body jerked, glimpsing it from the corner of his eye. Mack glanced back to find an expression of bewilderment and fear on Cal's face.

She shook herself, clearing her throat. "The Edgewise cooks?"

"Indeed," Prospero chuckled. "It is a skill the Keeper of the Ways is sadly lacking, but the tavern keeps its guests well fed and happy. Or do you think I owe this fine figure to mead alone?"

"Well, I'm not surprised Mack couldn't boil an egg to save his life," said Calponia. The good humor in her voice was forced but none of the others seemed to pick up on it. Except for the ruddy vampire, of course, watching her from across the room. He and Mack shared a brief look.

Mack laid a hand on her shoulder. "I'll take a bowl."

Her concern vanished with a scheming grin. She picked her way carefully across the room, watching the placement of her steps. The bête noire had returned. Her steps faltered when she reached the pot.

"You savages! I told you to leave enough for another serving," she snapped at the guilty patrons, who collectively hunched their shoulders and spooned more curry into their mouths in mulish silence.