The Wrath of a Shipless Pirate (The Godlanders War) by Aaron Pogue Page B

you learned anything about her yet?”
    He shook his head. “Nothing yet. I did put around the description you provided, but no one in Marzelle recognized it .”
    “Ah,” Corin said, disappointed, and the innkeeper hurried to reassure him.
    “It should be much easier to investigate now, because of what you’ve done. I am sure if she’s still here, we’ll find her fo r y ou.”
    “It warms my heart to hear it. In the meantime, bring me wi ne an d bread and something roasted. And how is Ch arlie Cl aire? Any news from your physician?”
    “He is here! His wounds are patched, but he needs rest and better board than pirates tend to get.”
    “Can you attend to that?”
    “Already done. He has a room here for as long as he desires, and I will see he’s fed as well. In fact, he’s lunching even as we speak.”
    “In his rooms?”
    “Indeed.”
    “Then bring mine there as well. I’ll join him.”
    The innkeeper did not immediately respond, but something in his expression caught Corin’s attention. He cocked his head. “Is something wrong?”
    “No. But perhaps he will not want an interruption. He has a guest.”
    “Another sailor?”
    “A woman.”
    “No! Charlie Claire? In Raentz? He knows no women here.”
    “Perhaps—”
    Corin shook his head. “He has no coin to spend. Show me to his rooms.”
    “I fear—”
    “Not as much as I do. There are those in this city who would harm Charlie just because he is my friend. But he’s not always quick to sniff out traps like that.”
    The innkeeper hesitated a moment more, but in the end he bowed his head. “I do not like this indiscretion, but come. This way.” He led Corin up a narrow staircase to the room across the hall from one Corin had used the night before. They were modest accommodations, but clean and safe. The innkeeper went to knock on Charlie’s door, but Corin caught his wrist, stepped past him, and cracked the door just wide enough to glance inside.
    The innkeeper’s discretion was unnecessary. Charlie sat at his table, both hands full, devouring a hearty meal. And his guest waited by the dirty window some way off. She was watching him, perplexed. And Corin knew her.
    “You may suspend your search,” he told the innkeeper. “We have found my druid.”
     

T he innkeeper pushed into place so he could take a peek. He whispered back, “This? This isn’t her at all!”
    “That is precisely her!”
    “But you said she was petite with flashing eyes and a pointed chin. Dark hair, stiff spine, poised and in control—that is the woman you described.”
    “Yes!” Corin answered, with a gesture toward the room.
    The innkeeper shook his head fiercely. “But this woman … this woman here … she is none of that.”
    Corin frowned. “You know her, then?”
    “No, but I know my own eyes. This woman … ” He lowered his voice further still. “She is … sturdy. Strongly built and wilting at the edges. Her hair might have been any color once, but it is golden now and already going gray.”
    Corin stared agape at the old innkeeper, but the man just waved toward the room. “Am I wrong? Do you see something different? Or was perhaps your memory of her distorted by the wine or rum? I have seen that oft enough—”
    “That must be it,” Corin said, if only to silence the old man. There was some mystery before him, but it was not one the innkeeper could solve.
    There was no truth in the innkeeper’s description. Corin rubbed his eyes, but it could hardly make so great a difference. The woman in Charlie’s room was undoubtedly the same Aemilia he’d met in Jezeeli in the distant past. And in an alley just last night. She looked not yet thirty, and her hair was dark as night. But she was a druid too, and they knew things concealed from normal men. Perhaps this was some druid sorcery at play.
    Corin licked his lips and eased the door closed again. He turned back to the innkeeper. “No matter how she looks, this is my druid. She is a friend,