The next morning, the sun was climbing slowly into the sky. The air carried a sharper chill than the day before.

  The air was sharp and cool, carrying the faint scent of smoke from the inn’s hearth and the earthy aroma of the surrounding fields. Birds chirped from nearby trees.

  Outside the inn, Alex and Draveth stood ready to depart for the village.

  “Where do we meet up?” Adrian asked, adjusting the strap of his pack.

  “Here, at the inn. Two weeks should be enough if we find them,” Draveth replied, tightening the belt across his chest.

  “And if we find them sooner?” Adrian said.

  “Wait for the others at the inn.” Alex’s tone was casual.

  Adrian gave a small nod. “That would be best.”

  “Got everything?” Draveth asked, patting the side of his pack before hoisting it higher.

  “Yeah, I think so.” Alex said, his eyes flicking toward the road.

  “Good luck,” Sylmara said, folding her arms against the morning chill.

  Alex offered her a faint smile while Draveth gave a quick nod. Then the two of them turned and started down the road toward the village.

  Adrian and Sylmara lingered in front of the inn, watching their companions shrink into the distance until the curve of the road swallowed them from view.

  “Anyway, what’s the village called?” Adrian asked, his hands shoved into his pockets.

  “Hearthgrove,” Sylmara replied, still watching the two men disappear down the road. “It’s a farming village.”

  “Hearthgrove, huh? Not Ashgrove?” He chuckled at his own joke.

  Sylmara’s lips curved into a faint smile. “No. It’s one of the bigger villages around Ashfall.”

  They had already eaten breakfast before Alex and Draveth’s departure, so Adrian and Sylmara spent the morning in the inn, trying to gather information from its patrons.

  Most of what they heard was useless, rumors, gossip, and half-truths, not worth remembering. After a brief walk around the inn’s grounds, they found little else to do and eventually settled in for the night.

  The next day, they rose early. A caravan was expected to arrive, and with it their chance to secure a place heading into the city. Adrian had learned that the reason outsiders were no longer welcome was the threat of spies. Some time ago, saboteurs had struck key infrastructure within the city, prompting the council to close the gates indefinitely. The only exceptions were the caravans.

  Rumors claimed the spies came from Spire City, though Adrian hadn’t managed to learn much about the place, only that it was ruled by a king. A tyrant king.

  “Kaelen?” Adrian whispered to Sylmara.

  She narrowed her eyes. “The owner of the inn?”

  “Yeah. Do you know anything about him?”

  “No… but the name is familiar.”

  “Familiar?” Adrian pressed.

  Sylmara fell silent, lost in thought for a few seconds, before finally shaking her head.

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  “I can’t recall from where.”

  It was midday, and the caravan still hadn’t arrived. Adrian and Sylmara were already downstairs, eating their lunch.

  “Do you think the barkeep was wrong?” Adrian asked, spooning a mouthful of soup.

  “No. They’ve either been delayed, robbed, or are just running late,” she replied, breaking a piece of bread.

  “Yeah, that makes sense.”

  Just as Adrian finished his last spoonful, the inn door swung open. About fifteen travelers stepped inside.

  Three of them wore fine clothes, while the rest were clad in armor and carried weapons. Adrian guessed they were the caravan’s guards. Most bore spears; two had bows, and two wielded swords. Their armor was well-made, and their clothes were nearly identical, each marked with the same insignia: two golden moons with a coin bag beneath them.

  Adrian studied the design, finding it intriguing.

  The three in fine clothes took their seats, while the guards scattered to nearby tables. Two of the sword-wielding guards positioned themselves close to the merchants’ table at least, Adrian assumed it was them.

  The barkeep moved to their table and began taking orders.

  “So,” Adrian said, eyes fixed on the merchants, “how do we do this?”

  Sylmara glanced at the party and shook her head. “Sneaking in is out of the question. Too many guards.”

  “Then?”

  “Applying for a job probably won’t work. They travel with private guards, not mercenaries.” She folded her hands and thought for a moment. “Even getting close enough to talk to them would be a problem.”

  She sighed. “We’ll probably have to wait for the next caravan. This one will be hard to get into.”

  “Any idea how long we’d need to wait?” Adrian asked.

  “No. Could be tomorrow, could be next week.”

  “And even then it’s not guaranteed.”

  “I don’t like that,” she muttered. “Not one bit. What about paying them?”

  “Paying a merchant?” Sylmara almost laughed. “Maybe a smaller one. No chance with these— they won’t risk their reputation to smuggle us in.”

  “Any other way into the city?”

  “We’d need tokens.” She shook her head. “But to get tokens you already need to be in the city. So no.”

  “Infiltrating?”

  Sylmara only gave a flat, final shake of her head.

  If only Alex were here, Adrian thought, a laugh almost escaping him. Alex had been gone only a day, and already Adrian was getting stuck. He would’ve done something reckless, something Adrian wouldn’t even dare imagine, and gotten them onto the caravan.

  Bribe them somehow? But how? Gold wouldn’t work; smuggling people into the city was a crime, but only if you were caught. There had to be some way. Gold was out of the question anyway; he had only four coins left. An artifact? He almost laughed. He only had the compass, the flashlight, and the binoculars.

  Maybe he could bribe someone with those. The rarer the artifact, the better the leverage. He and Alex were the only ones who owned those items. He didn’t strictly need them, he planned to spend his time in the city, so he could meet Alex there before he ever needed to use them.

  “Bribe?”

  She shook her head again.

  “With an artifact?”

  She looked at him as if he were insane. “You’re going to give an artifact for this?”

  “Yeah? Why not?”

  “It’s too much. Do you even know how much they’re worth?”

  He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.

  “A bag of gold! At the very least.”

  His smile widened.

  “Why are you smiling?”

  “Nothing.” He had a reason. They were going to be rich.

  “Do you think it would work?”

  “Yes! How could it not? Rare artifacts are sold at auctions. The rarer the artifact, the better the merchant’s reputation.” She looked at him as if he were crazy. “How do you not know anything?”

  “I do now.” He tapped his finger on the table. “So, how are we going to do this?”

  “I don’t know, but we need to approach him somehow. Maybe try the guards?”

  “Maybe. Or we could just ask the barkeep to deliver a message.”

  “That’s not a bad plan.”

  The barkeep was still bringing out orders for the merchants’ party, so they waited, careful not to rush the process.

  “Why do they even stay at this inn when the city is only a few hours away?”

  “I’m not sure, but that’s always how merchants have operated, at least to my knowledge.”

  Adrian nodded, not thinking much of it.

  When the barkeep finally returned to the bar, Adrian waved him over.

  “What can I get you?” he asked, a small smile on his face.

  Adrian set a few silver coins on the table.

  “We were hoping you could deliver a message to the merchant.”

  The barkeep’s smile widened. “That can be done.” He collected the coins and slipped them into his pocket. “The message?”

  “We have rare artifacts. That should get the message across.”

  “I understand,” he nodded and returned to the bar.

  “Would that work?”

  “Let’s hope it does.”

  Half an hour later, one of the guards called the barkeep over.

  “Here we go,” Sylmara whispered.

  The barkeep approached the merchants’ table. A few tense minutes passed as he spoke with them. Then he turned and walked toward Adrian and Sylmara.

  With a small smile, he said, “The merchant has invited you to dinner.”