The Wastelands (Part II of the Runner Series)

Chapter 22

"Kay!"

The word thunders in my ear as Harry wraps his great, beefy arms around my neck and pulls me to him. I laugh into his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of freshly baked bread.

"Hey, Harry." I squeeze him back, choking slightly on the clouds of flour floating off his burly frame. "How have you been?"

"Never better, Red. Never better. I see you've brought some friends into our humble corner of the world." Harry releases me to peer over my head at Meg and the two Waster brothers lingering near the door of The Beacon.

"Indeed I have, Harry." I gesture to Meg, Jaron and Luca to come over, grinning slightly at the way all try to disguise their apprehension. There is something extremely satisfying about seeing a Queen, a chief and an arrogant hunter attempt to appear comfortable in the rowdy bar. The boisterous revelers crowding the space pay them little mind; these rough-and-tumble miners and traders are accustomed to unusual situations and everyone is already fully aware that their Queen is currently hosting a Waster chief. The patrons move dutifully out of Meg's way, offering her a respectful nod before glancing curiously at Jaron and Luca.

"Your highness. Always a pleasure." Harry tilts his head towards Meg when she arrives next to us.

"Harold, it's good to see you." Meg raises her voice to speak over the noisy din. Even clothed plainly in pants and a tunic she still manages to stand out amongst the crowd. The dim light hides the flush in her cheeks and the way she nervously twists her fingers together. I throw my arm casually around her back, steering her towards a table near the back of the room.

Harry's broad shoulders carve an easy path for us while Jaron and Luca follow closely behind. We are lead to our usual worn, wooden table near the window where Harry graciously grabs some extra chairs and the people already seated shift to make room for us.

I shout out greetings to my old friends, smiling widely at the familiar friendly faces. A barmaid wordlessly deposits several frothy steins on the table, rolling her eyes and grinning at the raucous cheers her delivery merits.

"Fine company you're keepin' these days, Red!" Someone shouts from the far end of the table. A girl with wild, frizzy hair girl raises her mug to Meg, winking boldly before her elbow slips off the table and ale spills over the rim of her cup.

"You'll always be of the highest class in my books, Haille!" I call back to her, joining Meg as we return her gesture of cheers and drink deeply.

"So what are you lot doing in deep, dark parts such as these?" Harry leans back casually from his seat on the bench next to me. "Did you escape?"

"Something like that." I gesture towards Jaron and Luca. The brothers sit in nearly identical positions; straightbacked with both hands gripping their steins tightly. "These two were kind enough to show me their home and I wished to return the favour. As for this one..." I tug the end of Meg's braid playfully, laughing when she swats my hand away. "I just figured she could use a break."

"Right you were about that." Meg cuts in. My jaw drops as I watch her drain the last of her ale in one gulp and daintily wipe her chin. On her other side Jaron raises his eyebrows, his lips twitching.

"And what about you, chief?" I lean forward, talking around Meg and directing my words to Jaron. "You've sent away your loyal minions. Could it be that the great king of the Wasters wishes to be released of his responsibilities for just this one night?"

In response he looks towards Meg before lifting his mug and smoothly tilting its contents down his throat. After a moment he slams the mug down and releases an almighty belch. Meg lets out a tiny, involuntary squeal as the rest of us cheer and Harry clambers back to the bar for another round.