Cade stood in front of a tavern that left much to be desired.

  “Well, this is it! The Twisted Oak!” Gavin declared with pride.

  The telepath’s new garments billowed slightly in a humid breeze that swam through the dirt and mildew-coated street. His scarf was composed of a bright teal and pink pattern, and was longer than he was tall. The afternoon light laced through Gavin’s rich brown curls like a crown.

  Cade grimaced at the man’s enthusiasm. On his shoulder, Bunny mimicked his expression, and they both simply stared up at the inn. There was nothing about this shoddy excuse of an establishment to get excited about. The brickwork was sloppy, all of the lines were wrong, and the door hung at an awkward angle.

  Art was dead.

  Again.

  “Let’s get this over with,” Orro declared as he stoically marched toward the entrance.

  “How soon after registering are we allowed to stab our new teammates in the back?” Elena asked. She studied her nails as she casually flicked them free of errant dirt.

  Cade’s eye twitched. “You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you, El?”

  “Doubtful. That tongue of yours is going to get you killed long before I get around to it,” she retorted.

  “C’mon kids, settle down,” Jer interjected as he executed a clean front-handspring. “You know you both don’t have to fight over me like that, right?”

  “I swear by the gods above and below Jer,” Elena yelled as she chased after her twin with vengeance in her eyes.

  He snickered and sped away.

  “Well, now that they’re gone, let’s get to business shall we?” Cade asked in a jovial tone.

  Gavin smiled at their antics but nodded. “Right this way!”

  The handsome telepath stepped through the entrance like he owned the place, Orro and Cade hot on his heels while Rayka trailed behind with Bunny. The moment they entered, conversations stopped all around the poorly lit room.

  Dozens of poorly repaired chairs and tables were stuffed into every corner and booth, and the occasional glowflake lantern was the only method of illumination in the entire tavern. Cade noticed the general state of the place and winced.

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  If the bar left much to be desired then its patrons were worse. Far worse.

  The sour stench of sweaty backs and lukewarm air wafted through the space like a plume of poisonous gas. Cade took one more step inside the Twisted Oak and heard his boots squelch as they stuck to some unknown substance caked into the moist floorboards. It wasn’t the worst tavern he had ever entered, but it was close. In the distance, a clocktower rang out three times.

  They were running out of time.

  Gavin navigated through the short labyrinth of empty chairs and leaned heavily against the iron-studded bar. The barkeep was a middle-aged woman with slightly pointed ears and a patchwork of scars across her set jaw and tanned neck. She squinted at anyone who approached the bar’s counter like they were invaders seeking to rob and pillage rather than pay the two coppers it took to buy the cheap ale served here.

  “Greta, darling!” Gavin began.

  The barkeep threw a wooden mug she’d been polishing at his face, and he immediately backstepped, his sauve bravado gone.

  “What was that for?” he demanded.

  “Who, more like,” Greta corrected. “Lizzie says you walked out on her. Can’t have that, now can we?”

  When Gavin tilted his head to the side, Greta cursed loudly.

  “Hells, boy. You can’t even remember which one of my girls Lizzie is, can ya?” the innkeep demanded.

  “Brunette?” Gavin asked tentatively.

  “Gods, you’re hopeless, boy. Now, git before I throw me spear instead of a mug. And go pick that up, by the way,” Greta demanded.

  Cade, who stood a few paces behind the whole debacle, watched with no small amount of amusement as the handsome fellow stooped low to pick up the cup, bonked his head, and silently set it back on the counter before he walked away. Jer and Elena wandered in for the final moments and jeered as Gavin rejoined their group.

  Cade gestured, and they all shuffled into a nearby booth with slightly fewer stains than the others.

  “Well, there goes your ’amazing relationship with the owner,’ Gavin,” the young thief noted blandly.

  At least the telepath had the good graces to look chagrined.

  “So, are we off to the next pig sty?” Rayka inquired. Her lips curled in disgust when she placed her hand on the shared table, and it came up with a black smear across it.

  “I don’t know, I think our fearless leader could convince one or two of the drunks here to join,” Elena countered.

  “Don’t even think about poaching patrons without Greta’s blessing. She wasn’t kidding about the spear,” Gavin cut in with a surprisingly terrified expression that marred his otherwise handsome features.

  “I can manage that,” Cade said suddenly.

  “Yeah, right!” Rayka laughed. “She nearly gutted Gavin here, and still looks in the mood to murder someone. Five gold says she threatens you and we all have to turn tail and run out of here!”

  “Deal!” Jer and Elena said in perfect unison.

  They grinned at each other and slammed down their money.

  “I’ll take that action,” Orro chimed in with a dark smirk behind his mask.

  He nonchalantly tossed five gold on the table while Gavin looked at them with an aghast expression.

  “Orro! You too? I am offended!” Cade gasped. He stood with Bunny still on his shoulder and bowed to his friends. “I will be taking all of your money in just a moment. I’ll be right back with Greta’s blessing, just you wait!”

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