Hive Queen by Sinclair, Grayson (positive books to read .txt) 📕

He handed me my glass, and I downed the three fingers in one gulp.

“Still like your drink, eh? Never met a human who could drink a dwarf under the table before I met you.” Thrayl laughed. “So if you ain’t runnin’ with the clans again, how’d you get the armor? You can barely afford mine, and Arryn’s is a hundred times more expensive.”

I was about to explain when Raven turned to me. “Clans? You used to be a bandit?” She frowned, her mouth set in a hard line.

“Long time ago.”

She glanced at her untouched drink on the table, grabbed it, slammed it back and stood. Raven walked out of the house without a word.

“What’s tha’ about?”

“No clue,” I said.

I didn’t much know or care about what was going on with Raven. It wasn’t my concern. Instead, I turned back to Thrayl, and we caught up.

He told me about the day to day comings and goings in Aldrust. I hoped for some usable intel, but it turned out to be nothing but gossip, nothing that would help during the heist. I told him about recent events, leaving out certain key aspects to avoid confusion. I couldn’t tell him about Eris because of the cover story, but I told him about Magnus, leaving out his name, and passing him off as just a rich nobleman.

After about an hour of polite conversation, I checked the time and made my excuses.

“Well, why don’t you and ye’ girl have dinner with me an’ the missus before you leave? Della would love to see ya again.”

“Could never miss a chance to have more of her cave mushroom soup.”

We shook hands, and Thrayl clapped me on the back. “Damn good to see ya again, Duran. Oh! Before I forget, wait right here.”

Thrayl disappeared back into his home for a long minute. A few soft curses followed some clamoring of boxes and things being moved around. He came back a short minute later and held out his hand.

“Was a custom order for a customer, but they didn’t like the design, so I redid it. Meant to put this one up for sale, but just never got around to it.”

He handed me a long black knife forged from shadowsteel in a sleek black leather sheath meant to hang scout-style at my lower back. I was missing my hunting knife, so this was absolutely perfect.

The thought of what I was about to do sickened me, but I fought it down and smiled. “It’s absolutely perfect, Thrayl. What do I owe you?”

“Nuthin’,” he said with a wave. “Already got fifteen thousand for your last repairs, meant to send this with it as a gift, but I forgot. Just hope you’ll stop by more often in the future.”

“I will.”

I waved goodbye and left. Raven stood outside, leaning against the wall of Thrayl’s storehouse. I secured the knife to my belt as I walked over to her. She glanced at me and looked away, quickly.

“Stow whatever your problem is. It doesn’t matter and won’t help the job,” I said, walking past her.

She didn’t immediately follow but caught up before I reached the stairs that led to Copper Lowtown.

“Ass,” she muttered softly to herself, but it was amplified in the narrow stairwell.

“Sometimes, yeah. What, you don’t like that I used to be a bandit?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just go,” she said, pushing past me.

I shoved my hand against the wall, blocking her path. I stared into her crimson visage, into the thin circle of her iris and the black dot of her pupil.

“I’ve taken lives and coin with little regard for either. There’s no justification for the things I’ve done, but it’s in the past. Can’t change it, even if I wanted to. Now we have a job to do, and I need to know that I can count on you, that you’ll have my back.”

“Can we work together, or is this too much of an issue for you?”

Raven stepped back, her heel half on the step above her, and crossed her arms. “I guess I have no choice.”

“We always have a choice.”

I headed down the stairs without looking back. There was slight hesitation, but Raven followed less than a minute later.

By the time we reached Lowtown, I was dying to stop at the closest tavern and drink away my frustrations, but according to Raven, our meeting place was deeper in.

“What’s the place called?” I asked, stopping as we stepped down to the rough streets of Lowtown.

“Low Road Bar,” Raven replied.

Well, let’s find it, quick. I’m ready for an ale or more whiskey.

We walked the Lowtown streets cautiously, my hand resting on my sword. Lowtown wasn’t any more dangerous than walking the streets of Central at night, but if we got pegged as a mark, we were in for a bad time. I just projected confidence and kept an arm around Raven, despite my distaste for her.

Someone takes a fancy to her and that’ll just lead to trouble. I don’t need to dodge a murder charge today, not when we have a heist to plan. We meandered seemingly at leisure until we found the bar a mile down the street.

It was formed from rock and stone like the rest of the buildings in Aldrust, but the level of craftsmanship in Copper Lowtown was considered shoddy by the inhabitants of Midtown and Hightown. The stone was chipped and hadn’t been repaired recently, and the slanted slate roof was missing tiles. There were no windows, but there was a crude pipe wedged into a hole near the roof which belted smoke in a constant stream.

A sign hanging from a broken chain told us it was the bar we were looking for. The Low Road Bar, this is the