The Inn Ch. 05

But she hadn't, and I found her adjusting her riding gloves just inside the front door.

"There he is," she said, looking me up and down. "Got those letters for me, do you?"

I nodded and handed them over. She gave me a handful of coins in exchange.

"There's your nine," she said. Her eyes made a thoughtful contact with mine as she said the word 'nine,' as if to emphasize that it was less than the agreed-upon ten because my letters added up to more than the agreed-upon two. I got the impression she felt equal parts dubiousness and gratitude, wrapped up in a general sense of amusement at my well-intentioned meddling.

"Thanks," I said.

The front door opened, revealing Leyna in her sun-colored dress. She smiled brightly at me, and then warmly and professionally at the orf woman.

"Your cuddly lug of a mount is tied up outside as you asked," she told Kurga. "I hope you've had a, uh -" A momentary flick of her blue eyes turned my way. "- a pleasant stay."

The hulgriff-rider laughed and glanced my way as well, one eyebrow up. "Just so. I'll be recommending the accommodations to any friends as might want to come this way."

Then, with a parting grin, she headed out to saddle up.

"What a mint you must be making!" Leyna said once the door had shut. "And I saw those envelopes - your letters will be getting to the undertowns after all, right?"

"Um, yeah, I'm pretty pleased with how it all turned out."

"I'll bet! And fancy that - there's the imperial post with all the best steeds money can buy, and her ridiculous cock-eyed beast is going to beat them hands down. Who would have put their money on that race?"

I laughed. "Well, there's this character named Halvard who ..."

Holy fuck. Halvard and his gambling obsession!

"Yes?" Leyna asked.

At the end of The Doom of Necromanata, the final joke came from Halvard the Twisted, complaining that the group's misadventures had made him miss a huge horse derby in the imperial capital. They'd just saved the world, but all Halvard could do was grouse at his lost opportunity to bet on Swayback Spindlefoot, a decrepit old nag that ended up winning the cup through a fluke of accidents and jockey errors even though the odds had her pegged for last place.

That race would happen in just over two weeks, and only one person in the world knew the outcome: me.

"Leyna," I said, taking an excited hold on her shoulders, "I think you may have just solved all my money problems. I could kiss you!"

"I have?" she asked, puzzled. And then, in a quieter voice: "You could?"

Suddenly aware of her softness within my grasp, I swallowed, then carefully released her. "Well, it's an expression where I come from."

She smiled and slapped her fingertips against my chest. "It's an expression here too, sillly."

A moment had disappeared. I mentally kicked myself for not just leaning in and planting one on her in that second when she'd looked curiously up at me. Wondering if maybe it wasn't too late, I tried to think of a way to get back to the idea. But Leyna tilted her face toward her left shoulder, where my still-slightly-sticky right hand had caught it.

"Good grief!" she said, nose wrinkling and blue eyes wide. "She's left more of a reek on you than the welf-woman did!"

My face went red. "Sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"Come on, then." With a smirk, she tossed her head toward the stairs. "Let's get you a bath and you can tell me all the filthy details!"

She turned away without waiting to see if I would follow.

But of course I did.