The woman shrugs. Her blond hair is wet around her face, and I suspect it’s from beer and sweat. Tendrils hang over her eyes and I resist the urge to push them out of her way. She’s younger than I originally assumed and can’t be more than twenty, perhaps twenty-two. “Maybe. Who wants to know?”

“Me. I want to join the guild,” I blurt out.

The man across from the blonde spews his beer out of his mouth, showering us with more booze, and then laughs as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard.

I’ve had enough. I grab the drink from his hand and dump it over his head. “I don’t think it’s funny, you rockhead.”

The room gets quiet, and then the blonde laughs even harder. “I like you,” she declares. “Come and join our game.” She gestures roughly at the man sitting across from her. “Get out of here, Jallus.”

He gets up and leaves, and the woman pounds on the table, indicating we should sit across from her.

“Oh, I don’t drink—”

Both she and Gwenna turn to me.

I know when to shut up. I smile brightly instead. “Very well. Game it is.”

Gwenna and I squeeze onto the vacated bench across from the woman. I try to ignore the fact that my seat is wet, the table is, too, and I’m a little worried as the innkeeper comes over with three full mugs and drops them down in front of us.

“I’m Lark,” our new friend announces. “But not like the bird, because I’m told I haven’t earned it yet.” She rolls her eyes. “So it’s just…Lark. Like an adventure, I guess.” She lowers her head to her beer and slurps the foam off the top, then licks her lips. “You two looking for a guild hangout?”

I nod eagerly. “Yes!”

“Because you want a guild man?” She wrinkles her nose. “They’re arrogant pricks, but I guess if that’s your thing—”

“I already said I want to join the guild.”

“Oh, right.” Lark holds up a finger and then lifts her beer, chugging it. She sets the mug down with a thump and I wait for her to blow our hair back with another staggering belch, but she only sniffs and eyes us. “So where are you ladies from?”

I blink, because I don’t have a good answer. It didn’t occur to me to lie, but telling the truth seems too obvious, like I’ll be discovered for sure.

Gwenna steps on my foot under the table and takes control of the situation. “We’re coming in from the north. Yourself?”

Lark brightens, and not only because a refill is brought to her. “I came in from the south. Left my troupe because it was about time I came to Vastwarren.”

“Troupe?” I ask politely.

“Entertaining troupe. I was a sword juggler.” She starts to get to her feet and knocks over the bench she was seated upon, then staggers.

Gwenna grabs her arm, giving me a panicked look. “We believe you! No need for a demonstration.”

“Oh.” She hiccups. “All right.”

“So you must be good with a sword,” I venture, tensing until she sits down again. “That’s an excellent skill to have if you’re looking to join the guild.”

Lark grimaces. “Alas, the only skill I have with the sword is actually juggling it, and I don’t think the ratlings would be much impressed with that.”

“Ratlings? What’s a ratling?” Gwenna asks. “This is the first I’ve heard of such a thing.”

Oh, have I not told Gwenna about the dangers of our soon-to-be profession? “You know the tunnels below Vastwarren? The Everbelow?”

“The ruins, aye.” Gwenna nods.

Lark leans in and mock-whispers, “They’re totally crawling with these huge, oversized rats.” She flings her arms out and stretches them as far as she can to indicate the size, then frowns and twists her body sideways, trying to indicate height. “That tall. Big. Nasty. Smelly. And they swarm.”

The look Gwenna shoots me is one of alarm. “No one’s ever mentioned ratlings to me.”

“I’m sure they’re not as common as they seem,” I say, dismissing her fear. From what I’ve heard, cave-ins are far more likely. “But this is why everyone who joins the guild learns sword work.”

“Mucking lovely,” Gwenna mutters. “Human-sized rats.”

“More like child-sized,” Lark corrects. “Or slitherskin-sized.” She lifts her beer and chugs it until she drains it, then pounds on her chest and lets out an unholy belch. “So you two wanna join the guild?”

“We’ve said that, yes.” I give her a tactful smile, but it takes everything I have not to fan the air in front of my face to get rid of the burp smell.

“Three times,” Gwenna adds helpfully. “Should you be drinking this much?”

Lark shrugs. “You’re not drinking enough, if you ask me.”

Because I want Lark to be happy with us, I lift my beer and take a sip. And then I cough. By Asteria, that is the worst flavor. It tastes like piss, a far cry from the expensive wines of my father’s hold. But I smile between coughs and take another drink—or pretend to. Gwenna seems unbothered, taking a large swig and then swiping at her foamy lip.

“I went to the guild meeting this morning,” I tell Lark. “Just like the guild pamphlets say to do. And before I could even sit down, they kicked me out. Said I didn’t belong because I was a woman. That I’d be distracting to the others in the tunnels.”

“Cocks,” Lark swears viciously. “Cocks, all of them.”

I’m a little startled by her vehemence, but Gwenna giggles and takes a larger drink of her beer. “I like her,” she says, leaning over to me.

“I’ve met several, and they’re all cocks,” Lark continues, swiping my mug and taking a drink. She really is quite drunk, if her glassy eyes are any indication. “Specially the leader. He’s the biggest cock of them all.”

“Is his name Rooster?” I ask.

She pounds on the table and then points at me. “Yes! How did you know?”

“Because that’s who I met.” My heart sinks and I start to worry this is going to be all for nothing. Not that Lark isn’t fun. Gwenna’s having a great time, and Lark seems nice, if a little beer-happy. “He’s the one who told me I couldn’t join.”

“That cock,” Lark says again with a shake of her head. She waves at the innkeeper. “More beer for us! We’ve dealt with too many COCKS today.” She shouts the word across the inn.

Gwenna just snort-giggles into her beer.

“I don’t know what to do,” I confess, my hands curling around my half-full mug of beer. “This was the plan—to show up and get accepted into the guild trainee program. I don’t have the funds to bribe someone.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Lark says. “You can join my fledgling group. We need five and right now we’ve got four. The two of you join and that makes five!”

“That makes six,” Gwenna corrects.

Lark squints at her.

Gwenna shakes her head and reaches over to pat Lark’s hand. “Just keep drinking. So how do you know we can join your class if the guild leader said no?”

“And how is it you can join and you’re a woman?” I protest. This doesn’t seem fair. Lark’s going to be a trainee?

Lark beams at the innkeeper when she arrives with three more mugs of beer. She pays the woman and hugs her beer to her chest, sighing happily. “I’m going to miss you,” she tells it. “So, so much.”

“Is it going somewhere?” I ask.

“Can’t drink when you’re a fledgling,” she says, and then takes another hearty swig. “That’s why I’m celebrating tonight.”

“So you are a fledgling.” Lark belches an affirmative, and I cover my nose with my sleeve. “How did you get in when they turned me away?”

“Oh, that’s an easy one. It’s my aunt’s class and she promised my mother. I figure we won’t be distracting all the cocks if we’re a party of girls.” She wiggles her eyebrows and then looks thoughtful. “Though there is a slitherskin in the class. Oh, and a man, actually. But once he finds out there’s more women, I bet he leaves. He won’t be able to stand the shame of us walking around with lady parts in his presence.”

“Men do get weird around women,” Gwenna agrees.

I’m about to agree, too, when I realize what Lark’s just said. “Wait…you said it was your aunt’s class? But only guild masters can teach. How is this possible? Magpie is the only woman in the current roster.”