Page 46 of House of Crimson Cloak and Silver Teeth

“He’s scary,” Màiri whispers, but not quietly enough.

Some of the other children have crept closer, drawn by curiosity despite their fear. They cluster behind Màiri, using her as a shield between themselves and me.

“He looks scary,” Garrett corrects gently. “But he’s one of the bravest people I know. He once stood between me and six armed bandits without hesitation.”

That is a blatant misrepresentation of events. I’m about to call it out when Maìri’s eyes go even wider. “Really?”

“Really. And he won. Didn’t get a scratch on him.” Garrett grins at her.

Another lie. He was the one who killed most of the attackers.

The girl looks at me with new eyes, reassessing. The fear doesn’t completely leave her face, but curiosity starts to replace it. “Are you a knight too?”

“No,” I say. “Just a guard.”

“The best guard,” Garrett adds easily, as if he means it.

Maìri giggles and just like that, I’m less terrifying to her. Some of the other children laugh too.

Magic. That’s what Garrett has.

We secure the horses at the inn’s post, a worn wooden rail that overlooks the pond. More villagers start to appear, drawn by the commotion. They emerge from doorways and the fields.

Word has spread that Commander Clayborne is here. They’re all looking at him with a mix of hope and desperation. I’m busy counting possible threats while he makes small talk. The rooflines are a nightmare. Anyone could be hiding up there with a crossbow. We’re surrounded by potential hostiles and I have no way to secure the area.

“Wolf.”

I look at him.

“It’s a farming village. The most dangerous thing here is probably a...”

He stops mid-sentence.

I follow his gaze and see it immediately. A large white goose has waddled into the street from behind the general store. It’s massive with pristine white feathers and a long sinuous neck.

“…a goose,” Garrett finishes with a careless laugh.

But the bird fixes its beady black eyes directly on him. It takes a step forward, spreading its wings to make it look even larger.

I’m already moving.

My body reacts before my brain catches up. “Stand back.”

The goose hisses. It charges with its neck extended, making a sound like a demon being strangled.

Fuck, it’s moving way too fast.

I step between it and Garrett. There’s no other way. I need to get him away from the devil-bird. My palm hits Garrett’s chest and he goes flying backward, eyes wide with shock.

“Wolf, what are you—”

I push him straight into the pond. The splash is magnificent. Water erupts in all directions like a small explosion. Ducks scatter in a chaos of quacking and beating wings, their peaceful floating interrupted. The children and the villagers stare, mouths open.

The goose, having achieved its apparent goal of terrorizing us, waddles away with a self-satisfied honk.

Garrett surfaces, sputtering, golden hair plastered to his face like seaweed. Pond water streams from his expensive clothes, his fine riding coat now soaked and heavy. He blinks water from his eyes and looks at me.

Suddenly, he slips beneath the surface like a stone.