Chapter 11

THE INN was a small one, but it seemed to make up for its lack of bulk with an abundance of light and noise. Nestled at the edge of the woods skirting a village Wil hadn't seen yet, it dead-ended a hardpack road that curled from its front yard and up a slight incline to disappear into more trees. He'd heard the music from at least two miles away, string and flute twining with the awakening songs of the stars, only this music was earthy and viscerally alive.

Skulking behind the wide bole of a pine, Wil made himself look, take in the details, and assess the risk before hurrying into the warmth he could almost taste, body vibrating for the want of it. Two stories and very well kept. If a semiprosperous man were unlucky enough to find himself in this part of the world, this was the inn he would seek. Likewise, if a local were looking for an evening of song and safe companionship, he'd pay the extra coin for beer from these taps in exchange for the dependable sanctuary.