“What about Doug?” She looked over to where Alistern was wrestling with the Berserker.
“I thur—” Doug began to say, but Alistern slammed the dagger into his open mouth.
“You die,” Alistern spat as he got to his feet, wobbling. Like Stewart, he was mostly dead. “We good?”
The two women glared at Alistern, hands twitching on weapons as they considered their options. Before they could decide, a black light washed over Alistern, healing some of his wounds. “We are fine,” Berga replied. “Ladies?”
Both of them sheathed their weapons, “Fuck, we’re not going to win. I knew we shouldn’t have tried this.” The girl who spoke looked at Kyle’s body just before it vanished.
“You did the best you could,” Vincent told them. “If your Cleric hadn’t run, or if Doug…” He paused and looked questioningly at the body, which vanished almost as if on cue. One of the women nodded, so he continued, “If Doug hadn’t twisted his ankle, we would have lost.”
“Useless fuck that he was. Him and that dipshit, Kyle,” the other one sighed. “The Head Priest is not going to like that we lost to your group.”
“Oh?” Berga asked as she finished healing her group and sat to recover her mana.
“It’s nothing,” the first one said, elbowing her friend sharply. “He’ll just be disappointed that we lost, is all.”
“Oh come on, they have a right to know,” the second girl said, then turned to Vincent and Alistern. “Your temple has never won the Proving before, right?”
“Aye,” Alistern agreed.
“That is because the other temples all have an agreement in place to hinder you.”
“Fuck, Becky,” the first one sighed. “You’re going to get kicked out of the temple.”
“Maybe,” Becky shrugged. “I don’t think it’s right to single out a single group, no matter who they serve. Do you, Larissa?”
Larissa shook her head slightly, “No, not really... but still.”
“You can walk back with us if you want,” Vincent told them. “We know the woods can be a hazard. Without a Cleric, it would go badly for you.”
“We accept,” Becky agreed. “Sorry for attacking you guys.”
“It happens,” Stewart added, thinking about his earlier use of magic without words.
As the group started their journey back, Stewart held back to take the rear position. Illos spoke up softly from beside him, “Did you find your blood, master?”
Stewart gave the Imp with a questioning look. The Imp held out a hand silently, flames blooming in his palm. Eyes going wide, Stewart let the implication sink in.
“Imps can cast without words, master,” Illos told him with a grin, but his voice was pitched softly.
Glancing around at the others and seeing that they weren’t paying him any attention, Stewart cast his spell without speaking. The fire came to his hand just like it had during the fight. He stared at it in shock.
“It is part of the bloodline,” Illos told him, in the same soft tone.
“My father was an Imp?” Stewart breathed out softly as he banished the spell from his hand.
“Yes. Your mother was his Summoner,” Illos confirmed.
That thought shocked Stewart to his core. He’d always thought his Infernal blood was Destroyer. His mind raced with the new information. He knew that Alfonse must know who his mother was. Now maybe, he could finally find out.
~*~*~
“He never told me before he died, either,” Stewart sighed.
“Mayhap he had good reason,” Grimgar said thoughtfully. “Mayhap it was a promise tha’ bound his tongue?”
“Maybe,” Stewart replied as he got to his feet a little unsteadily. “I’m going to go sleep this off. Goodnight, Grim.”
“Aye, lad. Sleep well,” Grimgar replied, taking another long pull from his mug.
Erin’s Story
Erin sat in her chair, silently sad. Alburet had found dates for all her other sisters for the night, even Emily, and yet still she sat here without anyone to keep her company. He was even now introducing Deirdre to a Paladin of the Dark Lord. Maybe her ideal man wasn’t available, but surely he could at least find someone for her. Maybe her brother-in-law had forgotten about her, as so many others had in the presence of her sisters.
Alburet stopped next to her, leaning down to whisper, “I have someone lined up for you, Erin, but he’s not made it here yet. Please bear with me and I will do my best to get you a chaperone that suits you.”
Erin glanced up at him, her face showing her sudden chagrin. “Sorry. It be just that ya got them all partners so quickly that I be feelin’ a bit left out. Iffin ya can match me as well as ya have them, then I be willin’ to wait.”
Picking her glass back up and smiling determinedly at Alburet as he walked away, Erin wondered if Stacia’s husband could make good on his claim. A small part of her prayed he could, but she knew hoping for a dashing Lord to sweep her off her feet was probably asking for a bit much.
She smiled happily for her sister and new brother-in-law when the gifts were given to the newly minted couple. Taking another drink, her smile slipped as she thought of the dances coming up, and her without a chaperone.
Her eyes followed Alburet as he left the main table and started talking to a guard she’d seen come into the inn. The guard had a certain charm to him but, he was a guard, and Erin sighed—if she couldn’t have a lord, then she would definitely consider that one. Alburet led the man toward the table, and Erin felt uncertain. Was he going to pair her with the guard? He was dressed now in rather fine clothes, but he slowed uncertainly as Alburet led him toward her. Erin looked down, her expression falling.
Alburet, oblivious to the thoughts of the two he was about to introduce, wore a broad smile. “Wilbur Gilden, of House Gilden, this is Erin Crowley. Erin, this is Wilbur Gilden, son of Gilden House, and also a proud guard of the city. He has agreed to be your escort for the evening, if that is acceptable to you.”
Erin’s smile blossomed during the introduction. “It be an honor, sir, iffin ya would care to sit with me.”
Erin’s smile took away the uncertainty Wilbur had felt approaching the table, and a soft smile formed on his lips. When she offered him the seat beside her, he bowed deeply. “It is my honor, and pleasure, to be your escort tonight, Miss Crowley.”
“Call me Erin please, sir. We be an informal family,” she replied as he sat, their gazes locked on each other.
Wilbur’s heart beat faster for a moment. The idea of being so informal with the woman beside him was making him feel warm. “I almost didn’t make it tonight, but now I’m happy I did.”
“As I be as well,” Erin said. Inwardly she cursed her accent, wondering what he must think of her simple words. “Sir Gilden, ya be a guard?”
Wilbur’s smile went stiff for a minute, then he realized she was just curious and not poking fun at him, like most women he talked to did. “Um, yes. It’s been a few years since I joined the Guard. It’s not quite the life I envisioned it to be, but being able to help others has been the highlight of my time so far.”
“I did nay mean to touch on a sore subject,” Erin began, seeing his smile go stiff.
“It’s not that, it’s just… well, when most people ask me about it, they want to laugh or ridicule my choice. I always wanted to follow a man I admired growing up, even if my father hated him. Lord Theron was the only Lord who worked as a Guard, and he did it by working his way up through the ranks like any other Guard would, not just by having an officer’s position given to him. I still recall the sense of loss that permeated much of the city the day his Final Death was announced. I was still too young to join, but I vowed to do so, and here I am today.”
Erin watched his face as he talked, seeing how proud he was of being a guard while also being a noble. The depth of feeling in his words made Erin wonder if he would be able to feel that same emotional depth with a woman. Shaking her head, her smile was bright when he met her gaze again. “
So, it be nay just a job, but a lifelong dream?”
Nodding, Wilbur picked up the wine glass and sipped. “Yes, you could say that. Truthfully, it’s been a rough few years. I had no idea that living my dream would cause so many other issues.”
The two continued to make small talk until the dances were called for. They watched Alburet and Stacia glide across the dance floor, in perfect sync with each other for the first dance. When it came to an end, both of them applauded, along with most of the others watching.
When the next dance started, Wilbur glanced at Erin, seemingly weighing something in his mind. Erin sipped at her wine nervously, silently praying that he would ask, but doing her best to act indifferent.
“Miss Crowley—”
“Erin, please, sir Gilden. Call me Erin,” she interrupted him.
“Erin… would you care to dance?”
Again, her smile became brilliant. “With ya, sir, I would love to.”
Rising to his feet, he took her hand and led her to the edge of the dance floor. When the current song stopped, he led her onto the hard floor. Erin’s lips quirked as he held her at a more respectable distance than she was used to when dancing.
They didn’t glide, as her sister and newly minted brother-in-law had, but Erin found herself moving naturally into step with Wilbur. The first dance slid into a second, and then a third without either of them really noticing. By the time they finished a fourth straight dance, they had found their own rhythm.
Breaking after the sixth, Wilbur led her back to the table. Small beads of perspiration stood on his forehead and a wide smile sat on his lips. “It has been some time since I’ve been able to enjoy dancing that much,” he confided to Erin as he seated her at the main table again.
“I have nay enjoyed dancin’ as much as I just did,” Erin said a little breathlessly, her cheeks flushed. “Ya can lead me on the floor whenever ya be ready for another dance.” Picking up her glass, she gently tapped it to his and they both drank.
“Your family has owned this place for a while, is that right?” Wilbur asked, after a moment of eye contact. He looked away, his cheeks heated just a bit.
“Aye, it has been in me family for generations,” Erin replied. “Da’ took over from Grandda’ before I was born. Unca Stew has been here helpin’ him the whole time.”
“That would be the Half-infernal?” Wilbur asked, his jaw twitching slightly.
“Aye, he was raised by Grandda’, as a brother to me Da’,” Erin said, her smile fading a little at his twitch. “Iffin ya want to hear a story of him, I can recall an easy one.”
Wilbur looked back to Erin, hearing the hint of disappointment in her tone. “I would love to hear any story you tell me, Erin.”
“It be from before me Da’ took over the inn,” Erin said as she began spinning the tale, “From his days as an adventurer. Unca Stew and Da’ were part of a group tha’ got tangled up with Experiment 9.”
Erin tweaked the story slightly, casting her mother as a Trapsmith, but otherwise left the story mostly unchanged. Wilbur wiped at his eyes when she finished the story of lost love, a bit surprised to notice the party still going strong around them.
“He lost her in service to the Crown,” Wilbur said, fighting to bring his emotions back under control. “I have misjudged two men in the last few weeks. Maybe my father is right...”
“Nay,” Erin interjected firmly. “It be ya dream, ya should nay abandon it tha’ easily. Did the two men have somethin’ in common?”
Wilbur looked away, “Both appear to be Summoners. I think, maybe, I have let old stories influence my views more than I should have.”
“Mayhap,” Erin said, covering his hand with hers. “Life be about learnin’ and growin’. Mayhap these two have helped ya see a way for ya to grow. Ya have been nice enough talkin’ to me, even though I be a Summoner’s daughter.”
“You are so much more than that,” Wilbur said with all honesty. “Might I entreat you for another dance, Erin?”
“Oh, aye,” Erin said, letting him lead her back to the dance floor. “Mayhap I can tell ya a story that will make ya laugh afterwards.”
“I would very much like that,” Wilbur said as he took his position on the dance floor.
After a number of dances, the pair retired to the table again so she could regale him with a story of her father and Stewart, well into their drink, when she was six. The two men had taken to trying to one up each other with different trick throws at the dartboard, which inevitably wound up with Stewart’s errant throw ending up in Alistern’s buttocks.
“It looks like the party here be endin’,” she said, after their laughter had died down. Her eyes drifted to her sisters, leading their dates into the inn for the night. “Mayhap ya would like to come in for a drink?”
Wilbur’s smile fell. “I must decline, I’m afraid, Erin. I have work early in the morning and I must get to bed.” Taking her hand, he kissed it. “If you aren’t opposed to seeing me again…”
“I would nay be opposed, sir Gilden. Iffin ya can nay come in, mayhap I can walk with ya home, so the night does nay end so early for me?” Erin asked, biting her lip as she looked up at him.
“I’m not sure if that—”
“Please?” Erin asked again.
Caving in to her wish, he took her arm. “As you wish, Miss Crowley.”
“Back to bein’ formal, I see,” Erin pouted at him. “Iffin I tell ya another story tha’ will make ya laugh, will ya go back to callin’ me Erin? It makes me heart flutter when ya do.”
Clearing his throat as his own heart twitched at her words, Wilbur said, “I’m sorry, Erin, I’m not used to addressing lovely ladies informally. I’ll try my best.”
“Ya have nay idea how much I like to know ya be thinkin’ I be a beauty,” Erin said as they started walking down the street. “How about the story of how me just married sister ended up covered in flour on her fourteenth birthday?” Erin’s words trailed off into a laugh.
“Oh my, that must be quite the story,” Wilbur laughed along with her.
~*~*~
Erin shook her head, thinking back over the last ten days. She’d gotten a job as a receptionist for Alpha company—she still didn’t understand why Alburet had offered it to her, but Kim was a great teacher and she was doing her best to learn. Alburet and Stacia had even gone so far as to give her a room at the guild hall to call her own, and outfitted it for her.
As if that wasn’t enough, she’d seen Wilbur again several times over that same period. They’d been on dates almost every night since the wedding, and she could still recall Skippy Gilden’s disdain when he’d run into the two of them returning from one of those dates.
“Arrogant ass,” she muttered, recalling the words the brothers had exchanged.
Last night she’d ended up arguing with Wilbur in the guild hall, and been found by Alburet and Stacia. Wilbur had hinted that he had grown to care for her and wouldn’t be displeased with her as his wife. Even then, though, he had balked at her simple wish to go hunting, claiming it was too dangerous. He’d finally agreed.
When she woke up from her nap after the meet and greet for the new guild members, Erin wondered if Wilbur would do what he’d said and come take her hunting. Getting her things ready in case he did stop by, she finally headed up to the front for work.
“Mornin’ Kim,” Erin greeted the older receptionist.
“You look like you had a rough night,” Kim said sympathetically.
“A bit of a tiff with me boyfriend,” Erin said. “We’ll be seein’ iffin he will make it up to me in a bit. He’s supposed to take me huntin’ today.”
“Your first time out after the youth classes, yes?” Kim asked, having heard snippets from Erin before.
“Aye,” Erin said as the door opened, putting on a false smile to greet the people coming in.
The next hour tried her patience, as two guild members kept hanging around the front desk and trying, badly, to hit on both of them. When Alb
uret and Stacia had shown up and convinced the two cowards to go hunt, she’d been thankful, but also sad, as the day was dragging on and Erin hadn’t seen or heard from Wilbur. When Alburet asked her to get ready Erin did so dejectedly. She did want to go hunting, but she had been hoping to do it with Wilbur.
Dressed and ready to go, she got back to the front room to find Wilbur there. “Wilbur?” He looked wan, and wasn’t standing as he normally did, causing her to really look at him and notice his poison debuff.
“Who?” Erin’s jaw dropped as she asked the question.
Taking a step forward and trying to hide his pain, Wilbur replied, “It doesn’t matter. I’m here so we can go hunt.”
Tales from the Dead Man Inn Page 14
