The Darkness at Bay

Chapter 6

The lights of the border town Ogden twinkled as Azria scouted from above. She'd been flying for hours and was cold and tired and all she wanted was to sleep. Though she still had business to do here. She could see the soft orange glow of fire dancing from the windows of the quiet houses and rowdy taverns. Very few people milled about in the streets, but those who did took their time to admire the clear night that revealed constellations in the sky. She made sure to fly quickly so that no one would suspect that the dark shadow blocking out the light of the stars was the King's Aviary coming to wreak havoc on their peaceful town.

Azria landed outside the Pickled Pint, a shabby, yet welcoming tavern in the middle of Ogden and the meeting place she had arranged for this particular plan. The sounds of drunk men emanated from the interior of the pub, some sharing tales of grand adventures, others crudely describing all the dirty details of their latest female conquest. She couldn't wait to shake things up a bit, who would ever expect the King's Aviary to crash a typical night at the pub in a town like Ogden? Laughing to herself, Azria pushed open the doors and walked into the tavern with her hands clasped behind her back, her wings tucked in tight, and her head held high.

For a moment the room didn't change. Men still drank and laughed and drank some more. Musicians from the corner of the room fiddled an upbeat tune that electrified the air. Then a man caught Azria's eye as he lowered his mug from his mouth. Recognizing who she was, he choked on the ale that he gulped and coughed the remnants on his beard and shirt. Catching his breath, he hit his friends on the shoulders and pointed a shaky finger at her. Heads turned and the music abruptly cut off. Silence filled the tavern and no one even dared to breathe.

Oh, she liked this. The power she had without even uttering a word, without even moving. She had commanded a room with her presence alone. But she had no quarrel with these men. So Azria walked to a barmaid and laid a heavy coin purse in her hands and announced to the room, "Next round's on me, boys! Drink your fill!"

For a beat, everything was silent. Then the room burst into cheers and men began ordering more drinks, music began to play once more and all was back to normal. The men were still wary of her, but as she made her way to the back of the tavern, a few men nodded and raised their glasses in her direction. Fear and violence were effective tactics, but sometimes more could be achieved by a simple round of ale.

A familiar face greeted her in the booth at the very back of the room. He was taking a sip from his frothy mug, completely aloof to the scene she just caused. Perhaps he was used to her dramatic entrances by now. Azria sat in front of him, shifting her wings as she tried to find a comfortable position to rest them in against the hard back of the booth.

"You couldn't have found us a table or something other than a wood box for us to sit in?" she asked, only half joking and ruffling her uncomfortable wings in emphasis.

Jonah lifted his dark eyes to peer at her through heavy lids. "I thought we could use the privacy." He lifted a hand to brush back a few curls that fell in his face. He needs a haircut, she thought.