Page 30 of Fire to the Stars

“Thereisno Gendarmerie here. It’s a ghost town.”

“There.” Abel points to the aviary. “We’ll send a dove back tothe Gendarmerie station in Bourlin. They can dispatch a force to investigate the attack on Ravinfort.”

“One of those attackers could use the opportunity to killyou.”

“It’ll only take a minute.”

“What happened to learning how to protect yourself from people?”

“I’m sworn to protect Florent. Whether from dragons or murderers, that doesn’t change.”

I worry my lip. Apart from an elderly fisherman sorting through his tackle box on the dock, the town is eerily empty. Fall must be off-season for fishing here. A few doves coo on the aviary’s roof, but inside, an attacker might be lying in wait. A warning isn’t worth sending if it means getting ambushed.

Abel is about to step out from the bushes when I set a hand on his shoulder. Lucy cocks her head at us. Abel gives me a weary look, emphasized by the specks of mud in his blond hair.

“Someone’s coming,” I whisper.

A tall man emerges on the trail opposite our hiding spot. His youthful dark skin suggests he’s close to us in age, but he has a full head on Abel. A leather cord pulls his coiled hair away from his face. Tunic sleeves rolled up to his elbows expose his muscular forearms. He sticks a strip of venison between his teeth and rips off a piece. But his footfalls are heavy. His dark eyes stare unfocused at the ground, as if his mind is trapped elsewhere. When a dove flies over his head, he ducks fast, as if avoiding a throwing dagger. The movement nearly topples him under the weight of his bulging travel pack.

Carefully, I step behind a tree, feeling for the moondagger I tucked down my bodice. Appearances don’t fool the DamesBlanches. Nervous behavior is an effective lure to draw sympathy from a mark. He could be one of the attackers, his cloak and mask inside that pack.

“Lyle!” Abel shouts.

“Stop!” I hiss, but he ignores me. In the time that I blink, he’s running.

Lyle…That name rings a bell. The moonmetal smith from Ravinfort! I chase after Abel, Lucy beside me. At the same time, I flip the dagger up, inside my sleeve. We may have found a friend, but I’m not taking any chances this close to Ravinfort.

When Abel reaches him, Lyle rights his posture. The worry lines vanish from his face as he bursts with laughter. A complete attitude reversal that instantly makes me think:Liar.Of course, I could be wrong. Abel won’t be happy with me if I don’t at least try to play along.

“Who put you through a meat grinder?” Lyle’s northern accent hangs thickly from each consonant. When I stop beside them, he gives me a once-over, then cracks a smirk at his friend. “Where are your manners, Abel? Your girl is too beautiful to drag through the forest.”

To be fair, we look dreadful. Leaves are tangled in my hair, and mud cakes our boots. My breeches are smudged from constantly wiping my hands on them after touching a filthy tree trunk or climbing over a rock. Even my chemise sleeve hangs off one shoulder. It’s so damp, I couldn’t make it sit properly under the bodice.

This isn’t my most voguish look, to say the least.

I tug my sleeve suggestively over my shoulder and cast Lyle a wink. “Abel doesn’t give me much time to rest.”

“She’s a client,” Abel clarifies.

“Not without benefits.”

Abel rubs his face and looks away. I giggle. Too easy.

“We’re hunting the Sellecastel dragon,” he grumbles.

“Circumstances aside, pleased to meet you, mademoiselle.” Lyle takes my hand when I offer it and kisses my knuckles. “Lyle Meteku, at your service.”

“Claire Belgard.” I smile. “Pleasure.”

“You’re in great hands with Abel. Trust me. He and I go way back to our training days.”

“Oh?” I say, placating him. The more he speaks, the more behavior I can sample. “How did you two meet?”

“The Guild requires young slayers to pair up with apprentice smiths to pass a weapon design and durability test. He picked me.” He gives Abel a wry glance. “Granted he only did so because Hanna picked a famous smith’s son before he could.”

Abel retorts, “No, I picked you because your parents raised you with a better work ethic than the existing competition. You were the smarter choice.”

Lyle chews his venison thoughtfully. “True. Ididlead you to your only victory over Hanna.”