Six of Ruin (Heirs of Irenwell #1) ✔

Chapter 40: Thirty Silver Coins

The town of Dahn was something else. At first glance, it was nothing but a small, secluded town, hidden behind the largest wall I've ever seen. Stone houses circled the small square in the middle. It had no imposing buildings, no castles and no marvellous pieces of architecture.

Yet, everyone lived here. Spirits, humans, florans, giants. Everyone lived in peace, everyone contributed in a way. They had a deal with the rest of the Spirit territory for this precise reason. Everyone could live here, no matter the race or species. If you were allowed in, no one could touch you. Therefore, once we stepped inside, the residents treated us like we've been here for ages.

Guilt turned my stomach upside down. The gatekeeper did not truly let us in, I made him do it.

I downed the strong, fruity drink, letting liquor burn my insides. Dim, scarce firelight flickered around me, gently illuminating the wooden tavern. Out of tune flutes pierced the air, and I ascribed the slight headache in my temples to the unpitched sound, despite knowing it was in fact the residue from the magic use.

Ace put his dirty, bare feet on the bar and wiggled his toenails. His bloody robe fell off his leg, revealing a thick layer of healing salve covering the badly sown wound. He refused the healer's help, which I deemed insane, and insisted on fixing his leg by himself. The mage chugged his third flagon of ale and burped unapologetically.

"You look like a homeless person." I commented, glancing over his dirty, grey hair.

Ace spun his finger, ordering another flagon, "I haven't had a shower in two months."

Disgust gripped my face, "We did not need to know that."

"We can smell it." Nickeltinker hopped on the stool next to me. "Healers took care of Danilo. Torvald is resting."

"Good." I nodded. "Goddess knows we can't stay here for long."

"We have until morning." Nick mumbled. "Soterios might catch up with us otherwise."

My head fell down, exhaustion washing over me, "When is this going to be over? I swear I can't deal anymore."

"So, I've been snooping around." Rixen appeared between Nick and me, grabbed a stool and sat. "Something's going on in the real world."

"In the real world?" Nickeltinker chuckled. "Are we so detached?"

"Yes." Ace and Rixen said at the same time.

I sighed, "What's going on in the real world?"

"Bastia is a mess." Rixen said. "Bastians are scared out of their wits. They think cultists are going to kill them all. King Bernard isn't helping, he's propagating this idea."

Nickeltinker leaned against his elbows, "I'm never getting paid."

"Wait, aren't cultists following us?" I frowned.

"There hasn't been an attack on Bastia since we left Balr." Rixen looked at me, the dim firelight reflecting off his golden irises. "But at this point, it doesn't matter. King Bernard said publicly it's impossible to tell who's a cultist and who isn't."

My heart skipped a beat, "People don't trust each other."

"Not one bit." Rixen called the bartender. "They began suspecting their neighbours, friends, even family."

"Why would King Bernard want this?" I asked.

I've never been truly interested in politics. Whenever my father brought me to one of his meetings, I spent all my time staring at the handsome army generals. Now, sitting in a tavern in the middle of nowhere, I regretted not paying attention.