Chapter Eighteen

"I can't believe what I just saw," Grant muttered to himself as they left the dark forest. "What in the world was Jasper thinking, dealing in dragon eggs like that?"

Bev didn't know what to say, because she had more pressing matters to worry about. It was one thing to say the soldiers had been venturing into the city to get warm and buy provisions. It was entirely another that they were setting up traps in the dark forest to capture magical dealers. And…very clearly camping much closer to Pigsend than Bev had thought.

Had Estera offered that bit of information to anyone in the inn? Or was she the one sending the letters after all?

"Bev?" Grant had been talking with her. "Did you hear me?"

"Sorry. My mind's elsewhere," Bev said. "What did you say?"

"I asked if you…well, if you thought any less of me for that?" Grant said. "I swear, I didn't have a clue what Jasper was up to." He shook his head, shock still evident on his face. "Things must've been worse than I thought. Jasper would never… I mean, thieving and underhandedness is on the other side of…" He trailed off, giving Bev a sideways glance. "Sorry. Old habits, you know."

She sighed, shaking her head. "I'm worried, Grant."

"About Jasper—"

"No, as much as I feel for your cousin, he made his bed," Bev said. "I'm worried about the Witzels. Someone is keen on getting them in trouble, and I haven't a clue who it might be."

"If I can help in any way, let me know," he said.

Bev stopped, staring at him intently. "Did Jasper know about Ida's super strength?"

To her relief, Grant shook his head. "I only know because I've seen it around town. But it's not as if any of us really think it's…well, it's not something like illegal wyvern egg selling that could really get you in trouble."

Bev exhaled, some of the tension leaving her chest. A little reprieve. "I'm sorry he's in this situation. Hopefully, they don't keep him…" She didn't really want to say it. "Hopefully, he gets out unscathed and quickly."

Grant nodded, but Bev had a feeling they both knew the reality wasn't going to be as kind. She hoped Vellora and Ida wouldn't be so unlucky.

~

Bev returned to the inn, purposefully taking the long way to avoid the butchers. As long as she could, she'd delay the inevitable. So she set to making her bread, preparing her vegetables, anything to avoid crossing the street to put her meat order in for the day.

As she worked, she couldn't help but replay the scene in the forest—namely, Estera. She hadn't looked pleased to be there, but she was still a suspect. Especially after Vellora had threatened her, there was definitely reason for her to dislike the butchers. And clearly, she was able to make good on her threats with her magic-catching boss, whatever-his-name-was.

There was a knock at the door, and Wallace came into the kitchen, holding his hands nervously. "Bev, I hate to interrupt, but I need to speak with you about my…uh…missing item."

"Did you find it?" she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

His smile faltered. "Er…no. I haven't. Turned over the entire downstairs, too. Honestly, I'm a bit…nervous about where it might've ended up. You know I'm not one to point fingers, but…" He shifted, perhaps hoping she would fill in the blanks. "Is there anything you can do? Maybe under the guise of tidying up, you could…"

"I can't search their rooms," Bev said matter-of-factly. "But we have a sheriff in town. We could pay him a visit, and—"

"Oh, law enforcement? Queen's folk?" He shifted. "I'm not sure if that's the best idea…"

"Why not?"

"Well, I don't think I have to remind you that the ring is…well…special." He toyed with his fingers, almost as if the ring was a phantom presence on his hand.

"Look, we don't have to tell Rustin all the details. He isn't very…" She considered her phrasing. "He's…well, for lack of a better word, a bit cozy in his rural job where he doesn't have to do much. In fact, he might not even do a good job with searching the inn." Bev shrugged. "But his presence might scare someone into coughing it up, at least. And that's, after all, what we're after, isn't it?"

Wallace nodded, looking a bit more relaxed. "So he's not…he's not one of those magic-obsessed people?"

"If he was, he's been blind to all the magic happening around Pigsend," Bev said with a half-smile.

"Well, I suppose if you believe it wouldn't…" He cleared his throat. "I've just heard there are some of those…well, magic-obsessed soldiers nearby."

"Really?" Bev said, curious who told the cleric.

"Estera's regiment," he said. "I hear they aren't too far away."

Closer than you think. "What did you hear about them?" Bev asked, looking down at her knife to avoid looking too interested.

"Just that she worked for none other than Dag Flanigan," Wallace said. "One of the most dangerous magic hunters around. Notorious, in fact. The queen's favorite."

Bev swallowed. "Oh." She looked down at her knife again. "I'm sure they've moved on by now."

"I'm sure they haven't," Wallace said. "Estera said they were on the hunt for someone selling a wyvern egg in the forest north of here."

"She told you that?" She paused. "Of course she told you that. Suppose she didn't mean to tell you that, hm? Used a little magic to get you the information you needed?"

"Young Collin told me that she was a soldier, so I needed to know if I needed to be worried about her," Wallace said.

"Did you?"

"No. She may belong to that regiment, but she's just an extra body. Very glad to be away from her boss." He again reached for the phantom ring. "I hope she got home. She really wanted to see her mother again."

Bev felt a little better about Estera, but not much. "What else did she say about why she was here?"

"Ah…well…" He chuckled, his fingers searching for the missing ring again. "It wasn't her, but Bernie mentioned he saw a soldier the other day in the same regiment. This one seemed a bit more…professional, so to speak. I'd hate for him to show up in town and hear about the missing ring." He paused, shaking his head firmly. "On second thought, I really don't think anyone took it intentionally. Probably not necessary to get the law involved." He took a step backward. "You know, maybe it's in my room. Let me search it again—"

"Wallace, if I catch you snooping in the other rooms, I'll have no choice but to turn you out," Bev said with a warning glance. "So either we tell Rustin, or you're going to have to drop it. It's your choice."

The cleric stared at her for a few minutes, indecision clear on his face. Finally, his shoulders dropped.

"Fine. We'll pay the sheriff a visit."

~

Bev really didn't want to go back out in the snow, but the sooner Rustin was involved, the better the chances the ring would turn up. Especially if the snow kept melting and the travelers decided to try their luck out on the roads. The front doors of the town hall were open—a good sign—and there was a light in Rustin's office, along with voices. Bev adjusted her cloak and walked the length of the room until she came to the sheriff's door, which was open.

"Rustin, we have—"

She stopped short, and beside her, Wallace sucked in a loud breath. Rustin was at his desk, but he wasn't alone. The soldier from the dark forest sat across from him, lounging as if he owned the place. Up close, he was as intimidating and terrifying, and the scar that ran down his cheek was even more terrifying.

Rustin noticed them standing there and his face broke into a bright smile. "Bev! Your ears must've been burning. I was talking about you. This is—"

"Dag Flanigan," the soldier said, turning to look at Bev. "Of the queen's special service."

Wallace took a step backward, and Bev didn't need his magic ring to feel the panic radiating off him.

She schooled her features. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Flanigan. I'm Bev, proprietor of the Weary Dragon Inn."

"So I hear," Dag replied. "And who is your friend?"

"Wallace Cordell. Clergyman," he said, a little more confidently than his face would suggest. "I'm also staying at the Weary Dragon. Bev and I were just…uh…out for a walk. I'd asked to see the town hall."

"Indeed," Bev said, hearing his unsaid request to not mention the missing ring. "What are you doing in town, Mr. Flanigan? Heck of a time to be traveling. Are you headed somewhere for the solstice?"

He chuckled. "With apologies to the clergyman, I don't really celebrate the solstice. Not when there's important work to be done for the queen."

"Dag and a few of his soldiers are passing through and will be in need of a place to stay this evening," Rustin said. "I told them there was always space at the Weary Dragon."

"Ah, not much these days, but I have a bed or two available," Bev said. "How many do you need?"

"Six," Flanigan said.

Bev rubbed her chin. "I could possibly swing six if I can convince a couple folks to share a room."

"I'm sure Bernie and Collin wouldn't mind sharing," Wallace said.

"We are members of the queen's service," Dag said with a chuckle. "They should be happy to give up their rooms."

Bev forced a smile. "Well, I'm not sure about happy, but—"

"Then it's settled. We'll be there this evening."

~

Bev stepped outside the town hall and frowned—the sun was gone behind thick gray clouds again and there was a threatening cold breeze. "Don't you dare."

The sky made no indication that it had heard her.

"Well, this is certainly…something," Wallace said, his voice full of nerves. "I suppose we'll have to put that ring business to rest for a moment, eh? Might be for the best that it's gone." There was a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, even in the chilly air. "Those sorts of things… They aren't looked on too kindly by the queen's people. I'd hate for them to…well, to make a mountain out of a molehill, you know."

"And they do like to do that," Bev said. "I still think we should at least mention it to Rustin. He doesn't have to know that it's magic, just—"

"No." It was the firmest, most serious she'd ever heard him. "No, the ring is as good as lost now. In fact, maybe it's time for Paul and me to make our escape to Kaiser Tuckey's. It's been a touch warmer, the roads are probably not as bad. We can make it if we—"

"Whatever you want to do," Bev said. "It would certainly make it easier to house six soldiers."

Wallace didn't respond, and Bev felt guilty for being so blunt. But the Witzel Butchery was up ahead, and Bev would have to deliver awful news to Ida and Vellora and have nothing to say to soothe them. But she could put off the conversation with the butchers no longer. The Wersts' occupation was one thing, but the cadre of soldiers from the dark forest was an entirely different story.

"Aren't you coming?" Wallace asked, his hand on the front door to the inn.

"In a minute," Bev said. "I've got to get my meat order in for the day."

She held her breath and pushed open the front door. Both Ida and Vellora were there, but neither looked pleased. There was another letter sitting on their counter, and Bev let out a loud sigh.

The price is now 150 pieces of gold. Tonight. Or else.

"Tell me you've got a suspect," Ida said. "Please, I need some good news."

Bev pinched the bridge of her nose. "I wish I could say I did," Bev said. "But I do have…news."

Vellora stopped working and joined her wife by the counter. "What is it?"

"Before I tell you, I need you to promise you won't go across the street and harass my guests. They're already on edge as it is."

"Do they have reason to be on edge?" Ida asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well, there's a large butcher across the street who's already run off one person for working for the queen," Bev said. "Which spooked some of the others who also…uh…work for her."

"Clearly, not enough for them to leave," Vellora snapped.

"Who else works for the queen? Bernie?" Ida said. "He seemed off to me."

"No, it's actually the—Wait, before I tell you, I want your word that you'll leave them alone. I'm convinced they aren't responsible," Bev said.

Vellora sighed. "Fine. We won't do anything."

Ida nodded but didn't say anything.

"That sweet little family with the small children," Bev said. "The mom is a registrar in Sidence. One of the head registrars."

Bev watched Vellora carefully, looking for any sign the butcher was hiding something. But she wore the usual scowl and look of disdain when anything about the queen was mentioned.

"Is that all?" Ida said. "Why would a bureaucrat be threatening us?"

"I don't think she is," Bev said. "But Etheldra had a good point about registrars…namely that the kingside soldiers need to keep in touch with theirs at least once a year. Is it possible that…" Bev again watched Vellora. "That Vellora hasn't been keeping up with hers?"

Neither spoke for a moment. Vellora clicked her tongue as her knuckles went white. "I receive a letter from my investigator every year. I always respond. There is nothing there."

"I can vouch for that," Ida said with a nod. "Because she's in a bad mood for days after. But the letter does get sent."

Bev watched the two of them, torn between asking for proof and believing her dearest friends.

"Have you been investigating me instead of my wife?" Vellora asked. "Because I'm not the one… I haven't done anything wrong."

"Neither has Ida, but the letters aren't exactly specific about whose secrets they're threatening to expose." Bev took a breath to keep her temper from rising. "I'm on your side. But I need the facts—all of them."

The two butchers were silent for a moment before Vellora grabbed her small pad of paper. "What's the meat order tonight?"

"Vellora."

"We've got some pork loin. I'll drop it off—" She paused. "I suppose I'll have Ida drop it off since I don't want to be accused of scaring anyone."

"Actually," Bev said with a wince, "there is one more thing."

She explained following Jasper Klose, and the soldiers in the dark forest, hating the way that Vellora's face went from red to white in a matter of moments. She and Ida both sucked in a deep breath when Bev got to the part about Dag Flanigan being in Rustin's office.

"So they're…they're very close," Ida whispered. "The blackmailer must've known that."

Bev nodded. "And they're about to be a lot closer because they're…uh…staying at the inn tonight."

It became so quiet, Bev could hear the anger ticking higher in Vellora's mind.

"I wanted to give you a heads up," Bev said, inching backward toward the door. "Just in case, you know. I don't expect them to stay very long."

"How many?" Ida asked softly.

"Six," Bev said. "Including…well, including Estera, so Vellora, you might want to…"

The butcher let out a grunt of anger and stormed up the stairs loudly. Bev winced as the upstairs door slammed so loudly that the windows rattled.

"I'm sorry," Bev said softly.

"Are you?" Ida asked, her eyes filling with tears. "You come in here and act like we're the ones under investigation. And now you're giving quarter to the very people who could haul us off in chains!"

Bev tilted her head. "What would you have me do? Deny them? That would look suspicious."

"I want you to find out who's blackmailing us," Ida said, wiping her cheeks. "Look, I've got to carve up more meat for these soldiers who'll likely arrest us in the morning. I assume that's really why you came—"

"Ida, don't be—"

"I think it's best you leave," Ida said softly, turning to follow her wife up the stairs. "I'll drop the meat off later today."