“Not there,” he reassures me. “It’s just along the way. I promise I’m not starting anything, Aspeth. Tonight is just about dinner and spending time together.”

I slide my hand into the crook of his arm again and nod.

True to his word, we stop at a tavern one street over. It’s nearly deserted, with an elderly Taurian and his younger human wife behind the bar. The main tavern room is practically empty save for a few slitherskins near the fire, piled together with their houses stacked nearby. The barkeep recognizes Hawk and makes him a huge bowl of lentil and vegetable soup with a half loaf of crusty bread, my portions only slightly smaller. He puts the tray down at our table and then leans over, his gaze on Hawk.

“I know it’s a difficult time to be Taurian right now, son, but this is a nice establishment. If you feel the need to take the edge off, head to the alley. Understand?”

I should be mortified. Instead, it strikes me as funny, and I press my fingers to my lips, doing my best not to giggle.

Hawk eyes me balefully as my shoulders shake. “You laugh,” he murmurs as the tavern owner saunters away, “but some can’t help themselves. It’s hard to serve a family a meal when there’s a bull rutting into his hand at the next table over.”

That only makes me giggle harder. “I’m sorry,” I wheeze. “I know it’s not funny. It’s just…what if there are a lot of you who have the same need at the same time? Do you all go to the alley together?”

“If we do, we don’t make eye contact,” he drawls, eyeing me. “And thank you for that. My cock has sufficiently shriveled enough that I can eat in peace.”

I have to wipe the tears of laughter from my eyes. “I’m so sorry. I’m just picturing you staring at one another and angrily jerking off because your soup is getting cold and a stranger is standing too close.”

“Can’t be much of a stranger if I’ve got my cock in hand.” But he smiles at me as he says it. “Hope the food is all right with you. The old Taurian’s from my home village and his food reminds me of my mother’s.”

Oh. Hawk doesn’t talk much of his home life, or his family. I’d love to hear more. “This is lovely. It’s nice just to get away from the guild life, even if it’s just for a few hours.” I take a small bite of the food and try not to wince. It tastes like, well, grass. I swallow and take another bite, because if this is what Hawk likes, I want to appreciate it as well. “I’ve never had this sort of flavor before. You eat this back where you came from?”

He’s taking huge bites of the vegetable-laden soup, clearly loving it. “The village I grew up in was nothing but Taurians. My parents were farmers, so aye, we had a lot of dinners like this.”

I take a bite of the crusty bread instead, because something tells me he’s going to want to eat my share of soup, too. “Do you miss your family?”

Hawk shrugs. “They could write. They don’t. I’m not part of their life anymore. So no, I don’t miss them.”

I ponder this as I take another bite of bread. “My mother died when I was very young and the only family I had was my father and my grandmother. My grandmother is a society sort and loves nothing more than a party. We’ve never seen eye to eye. She actually hates my spectacles and I was told not to wear them around her.”

He huffs with annoyance. “So she’d rather you be blind than unfashionable? She’s an idiot.”

When he puts it that way, it does sound exceedingly stupid. “My father has been largely absent. I think he entertained the thought of another wife for a while, but nothing ever came to fruition, and he seemed content to have me be his heir and fool around with his mistress instead. We’ve never been close. I think I see him perhaps twice a year, despite the fact that we live in the same hold. Or rather, we did.” I shrug. “So when you say you’re not close to your family, I understand.”

Hawk finishes his soup and I nudge mine toward him. He immediately takes it with a grateful smile and trades me the bread. “It’s not that I’m lonely. The guild keeps me busy. I’m close to the other Taurians who work here in the city. I have Magpie.”

“Mmm.” I can’t say much positive about Magpie. She’s too erratic and absent.

“Once, she was a great mentor,” he says, as if reading my sour thoughts. “I know she struggles now, but a decade ago she was clever and daring and no one could match her success rate. She seemed to know instinctively where to dig, and we’d come up with treasures more often than not.”

“Did she use a dowsing rod then, too?” I tease.

“A dowsing rod?” His brow furrows. “Of course not. Those are fairy tales. A prank played on fledglings to keep them occupied.”

“Just curious. I’ve heard, um, that some use them.”

“Foolery.” Hawk sounds cranky at the thought. “The best thing you can do is show your students the best places to dig, not to rely on sticks and magic. You look for places that would have lots of artifacts—old warehouses, or libraries. You look for merchant shops that specialized in the arts. And if you’re really lucky, you’ll stumble upon a wizard’s shop. But just using a stick?” He makes a face. “That’s a setup to fail.”

He’s not wrong. I just can’t help but wonder if Magpie truly wanted us to fail or if she was lazy. There’s no way she could have known about Gwenna’s bloodline if even Gwenna had no idea. And we don’t know that the dowsing rod actually led us to the ring. It could have been a fluke. Gwenna could have had shaky hands. Something.

“So may I ask you what your name was before you joined the guild? Who were you before you were Hawk? And what made you pick that name?”

He eyes me. “What, you think you can slide your soup over to me and suddenly I’ll answer every question you ever had?”

I flutter my lashes at him, even though I probably look ridiculous through my spectacles. “Yes?”

The hard edges of his smile turn up just a little. “Maybe we order another round of soup and I can keep talking.”

Grinning, I take another huge bite of bread, which truly is delicious for all that it’s dry. I guess butter would be weird to minotaurs. “I think that sounds delightful.”

THIRTY-FOUR ASPETH

Dinner is far more fun than it should be. I know I’m supposed to be distracting Hawk and keeping him busy so the others can work on the counterfeit pass, but I’ve forgotten how enjoyable it can be to just talk to him. He’s as obsessed with the guild as I am, but has a jaded, almost world-weary view of it while mine is more optimistic. He’s sick of the politics, but still loves the joy of finding something new and exciting.

“Not that I get the chance to much anymore,” he admits. “I’m too busy on rescue missions. It’s like the guild isn’t training anyone worth a damn any longer. I’m constantly being shuffled off to haul out some twit who didn’t realize he was digging next to a support beam and collapsed an entire cave. Or some Five’s gearmaster forgot to pack rations and now they’re all too weak to make it back to the surface on their own.” He shakes his head, making a face. “Who mucking forgets to pack food?”

It does sound idiotic.

Hawk eats three more servings of soup and I devour nearly a full loaf of bread, especially after the barkeep brings me a tiny pot of honey to dip the delicious bread in. We sip ale, too, but it’s expensive and we don’t want to drink Hawk’s funds away.