“What about them?”

“We should probably bring them in, too, or Addiena will just send us out again.”

“Don’t worry. Where my father goes, my brothers will go. They’ve never been able to think on their own.”

“That’s sad.”

“My mum tried to help them, but since hatching they’ve been loyal to my father. Plus they’re rather stupid.”

“And you’ve been loyal to your mum.”

“From the beginning to the end of time, I’ll be loyal to my mum.”

“I don’t blame you. She did a good job teaching you to fight.”

“She did?”

“Braith, you may not be ready to ride into battle”—yet—“but you’ve got basic hand-to-hand combat techniques down pretty well from what I’ve seen. You took out Bercelak.” He leaned down until their noses nearly touched. “Bercelak. Only Ghleanna and a few of our older sisters can take him in a fight.”

“He doesn’t like fighting females?”

“Bercelak will fight anyone. But my sisters are like you. Strong, fierce . . . a little heartless.”

“He started it.” She glanced down. “You going to let my hands go, Addolgar?”

“If you insist.”

She looked off, thought a moment. “Well, you should keep holding at least one. I wouldn’t want to get lost on the way into town.” She briefly chewed her lip, still wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I’ve never been here before.”

Doing his best not to smile too widely at that, Addolgar released her left hand but kept hold of her right. And, without much else said, they headed into town, hand in hand.

They walked into the pub. A dark, dastardly-looking place that Braith normally wouldn’t do more than tear apart with her claws.

Even worse, as soon as they stepped inside, the entire place fell silent, all eyes turning toward them, watching them with suspicion.

Braith pulled her hand out of Addolgar’s and curled both hands into fists beneath her fur cloak, ready to battle her way out of here if necessary. But then Addolgar pulled the hood of his own cloak back, tossed his silver hair off his face, and the entire room went up in a cheer.

“Addolgar!”

“Hello, all!” Addolgar called out in return.

He took Braith’s hand again, his fingers easily separating hers so that she no longer had a fist, and led her into the pub. There were more greetings all around. Cheerful pats on the back, and hugs from the females, a few handshakes as they passed through.

Addolgar finally stopped by a table. He stepped behind Braith and took off her cloak, placing it on the bench beside her. He took off his own and then sat on the other side. A barmaid walked up to the table with four big mugs of ale. She slammed them down on the table. “From your fans,” she giggled, winking at him.

Grinning, Addolgar pulled three ales closer to himself and pushed one toward Braith.

“We have Mum’s stew tonight,” the barmaid said.

“Say no more,” Addolgar told her.

“And bread?”

“You have to ask?”

The barmaid winked at him again and focused on Braith. “You as well, miss?”

“Aye, please.”

She nodded and walked off. Braith watched the girl for a bit before looking at everyone else.

“We’re safe here, Braith. You can stop looking so worried.”

“You spend a lot of time here?”

He shrugged and gulped from one of the mugs of ale. “I’ve been here over the years. I travel a lot.”

“Yes, but they seem to . . . know you so well.”

“I like meeting strangers. You never know what you’ll learn. What you’ll discover.”

She leaned in. “But all these humans?”

“You don’t like humans?”

“I don’t dislike them. But I don’t trust them either.”

That made Addolgar laugh. “I don’t trust anybody except me own kin. But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy others’ company. Everyone has a fascinating tale to tell if you’re willing to listen.”

The barmaid returned, placing large bowls of delicious-smelling stew in front of them along with several platters of fresh, warm bread.

“Need anything else, you just let me know.”

“Thanks, Mary.” Addolgar ripped off a large chunk of bread and began devouring that first bowl of stew. He didn’t speak while he ate. He just ate. And before he’d even finished that first bowl, Mary brought another, and then another. All of which Addolgar ate. More bread was brought and he devoured that as well.

Braith, however, was satisfied with two of the large bowls of stew and one large loaf of bread to appease her human appetite.

By the time she finished her second bowl, Addolgar had finished his fourth and was leaning back to sigh contentedly.

“Good, eh?” he asked, that smile on his face.

“Very.”

“Mary’s mum runs this place. She makes the best stew. Ale’s good too.” To prove that, he finished off his third mug of ale, only for Mary to bring four more.

“Dessert?” Mary asked.

“What ya got?”

“Me mum’s raisin and ale cake.”

“Bring it.”

Laughing, Mary walked off and Addolgar rested his elbow on the table and his chin in the palm of his hand.

“You all right?” he asked her.