Chapter 5 Still being followed

Back to Elara POV's.

I kept telling myself not to listen to them. Not to let their words affect me. The Hunter Guild is aware. They will test her before the full moon. Rubbish. Just talk. Paranoia. I've heard enough of these in my whole lifetime. What difference would it make if they were true? My life had always been like a journey from one place to another, never long enough to get attached. If they wanted to come after me, I wish them good luck. I was a shadow, and shadows don't make a trail.

With the pouch of coins Dorian had given me, I left the docks. It was more than I thought but still not nearly enough. Not for the rent due at the end of the week. Not for food to last until then. Survival was going to need more than just waiting on one man's generosity.

While passing by the row of taverns that were leaning the wrong way and located at the border of Ashvale’s market square, an idea came into my head. The night was still fresh and taverns were always in need of workers, especially those that didn’t require asking any questions.

I went in with my hand and opened the door that The Rusted Fang had, which was a bar that smelt of spilled ale and old smoke. Noise of laughter escaped the place in which it was mixed with the vilification and the sound of mugs. Men were sitting at the tables in the hunch position, faces were in the darkness, but eyes were still sharp even though they were under the influence of the drink.

It was not difficult for me to locate the owner, he had broad shoulders, a thick beard, eyes were tired but still very much alert and calculating. “Do you need help tonight?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm and controlled, “I can serve. Clean. Whatever you need.”

He gave me a look from head to toe, doubt flashing in his eyes. "Have you ever worked in a place like this?"

"No," I confessed. "But I am a quick learner."

Perhaps it was something in my voice that persuaded him. Or maybe he was out of options. He made a sound like a grunt, indicating the bar with his chin. "Okay. Just do it now. If you are still here until closing, I will give you some money."

I went behind the counter, feeling very nervous. However, it was not long before the smell of ale and sweat became part of me. Loud noises could be heard everywhere as the tankards hit the wood, men yelling for more drink, and coins making a sound of metal to metal on the counter. My hands were shaking at the beginning but later I got the flow—pour, serve, wipe, and repeat.

It wasn't honor. It wasn't protection. But it was money. And yet, as I walked by packed tables, I couldn't get rid of the feel of being looked at. Again

This time, though, it wasn’t Dorian. It was sharper. Hungrier. Like a predator waiting for me to stumble.

The time mixed into a fog of clinking cups and loud voices. Mugs hit the counter, coins slipped over the bar, and funny laughs grew until rafters shook. I kept my head low and my hands moving. Help. Tidy up. Grin when needed, forget when not.

Men tried to get my notice. Slurred praise, rough jokes, even hands that stretched too far over the counter. I moved around them all, letting their words roll off me like water off a rock. I wasn't here to make friend or enemy. I was here for coins nothing more.

When the final buyer walked out into the dark, my body hurt, and my throat felt sore from taking in smoke and drink. Yet, I had made it. The man with a beard tossed some coins into my hand with a noise. “Not bad Come back tomorrow if you wish.”

I put the coins in my bag, gave a nod of thanks, and sneaked out the back door.

The night wind was cool and biting on my wet skin. The roads were still now, dark shapes reaching long between the bent homes. I wrapped my cloak snugger around me and went down a thin path that led to my inn

Halfway through, I felt it.

That sting at the back of my neck. The same feeling of eyes I had felt in a market, at dock, even here in tavern.

I froze, turning slowly.

At the end of the path, a shape stood, partly hidden in fog. Big. Still. Looking. The faint lamp glow hit the side of his face, just enough for me to tell it wasn’t a drunk guy who had trailed me. This was planned. Calm.

My heart pounded, I knew that way of s͏tanding. I felt that feeling, the same man. The same shadow, he hadn’t lost me at all.