Page 57 of Starside

Then, he shoves me back onto the landing, and passes me by without a second look, taking the stairs in a flash. The front door opens and slams closed.

Asshole.

Asshole … who saved me.

Why?

I shake off the question. He likely didn’t want to get his boots dirty with my blood, which would have no doubt formed a puddle at the bottom of those treacherous stairs, had I fallen.

And he’s right. I do need to be more fucking careful, I think, as I finally start down the steps that were nearly just my end.

As promised, there are plates of cooked eggs and meats waiting below, spread out across two tables. Sun shines through the dust-glazed windows. Most of the warriors are gone, but some are still milling around the door.

I stop midway down the stairs, watching as they each take turns trying to lift my sword. They’re twice my size. Their arms are thicker than my head. I watch them groan and strain, and I tense—then nearly laugh, which seems absurd, since I almost just died.

I clear my throat, and their eyes shift to me.

Yeah, bad idea. I go still, remembering the best way for them to claim my sword is to kill me.

But right at that moment, Xara walks through the tavern and says, “It’s a bit early in the day to wound your egos, isn’t it, boys?”

Those boys look like they could rip the limbs off a person with little effort. But amazingly, they begin to disperse, after mumbled apologies and goodbyes to Xara.

I slowly turn to face her, and I know that she can feel me looking, but she doesn’t meet my gaze.

I step down the rest of the rickety stairs, toward the spread of food.

Three glasses sit full of violet liquid. I sniff one, then take a tentative sip. It’s sweet, with a slightly bitter aftertaste.

“Berries,” Xara says. She frowns at my pale face, as if she can see the lack of nutrients in my body. “Drink it. You need it.” I do. I finish it all, then, once it’s replaced, I empty a second glass.

I finally motion toward the door. “Did you know you were housing a monster?” I ask.

She blinks at me. “The mortal in the hood?”

I nod.

She lifts a shoulder. “He was nice enough. Came just after you did. Was surprised to see him in one piece. Cleaned up after himself, which is a rarity, unfortunately.”

I scowl. Just when I’m about to tell her about how awful he really is, the stairs creak. Zane. His eyes immediately go to his ax, still buried in the floorboards. His shoulders melt with relief.

Then, he says good morning and starts unceremoniously eating everything.

Kira surfaces not long after, still wrapped in one of the blankets from her room. She turns to Xara, who’s behind the bar, wiping glasses with a rag. “This is the softest fabric to ever exist.”

Xara smiles. “A friend knitted them for me, from Arladan goat fur.”

Sensing our confusion, she says, “It’s a place in the north. Cold, white, vicious. The goats grow the softest coats.”

It isn’t on the map. And, as much as I want to know all about it, the quest must come first. I reach into my pocket and slowly bring out the crushed parchment. I gingerly smooth it out on the table. “We’re here, right?” I point to the illustration of the village.

Xara stops her movements. Her eyes widen as she walks around the counter.

“Where did you get that?”

No use in lying to a woman who has housed and fed us for free. “The Tower of Knowledge.”

Xara carefully takes the paper. “The God of Travels had most maps destroyed … This much land covered …” It’s the second time hearing about this god. Why ruin maps? Xara gently traces across the markings. “Yes. You’re in Westwere.”