The Unfamiliar (Exclusive Excerpt)
The Feral Ferret had a certain derelict charm about it. It was a place where songs and fistfights broke out in equal measure. A place where bets were lost, and friends were made. The kind of place where Elwyn might have pilfered her dues, back when she’d belonged to the Greyscale. It was not the kind of place she’d have ever visited for leisure.
Far too many bodies crowded between those four wooden walls—fighting, dancing, more-than-dancing. A band of bards rollicked upon a makeshift stage in one corner, weaving an up-tempo reel for a mob of writhing revelers. Along the opposite wall, a belabored barman scurried frantically to and fro, filling orders for the impatient press of patrons.
“Oh, rats.” Elwyn stepped back from the doorway. “It appears they’re far too busy to seat us. We’ll just have to wait outside for the others.”
“Don’t be silly!” Aedyn tapped his lopsided circlet. “You forget who you’re with.”
His confidence was insufferable. Unfortunately for Elwyn, it was also justified. The throng parted at the sight of his crown—the fae, with tipsy bows; the mortals, with cautious scowls. Elwyn had never seen so many of each intermingling in the same place before. Hopefully, it was a sign that their peoples could learn to coexist. More likely, it was a testament to the strength of the house ale.
Old habits tugged on Elwyn’s fingers as Aedyn urged her toward the bar, tempting them to dip into the pockets of every sot her shoulders brushed. That life was behind her, and she’d resolved to leave it there. So, she busied herself by scanning the patrons for a lock of Silva’s yellow hair, the charcoal checks of Rayen’s favorite jacket, the hoary red of Mr. Elliot’s beard. Despite the steady influx of survivors from around the isle, her Amblewick acquaintances were nowhere to be found. Perhaps the quiet, uneventful town had perished in the Confluence. A horrible thought, and one Elwyn refused to dwell on.
A pair of pretty Maithe women slid from their barstools to greet Aedyn with painted smiles and fluttering lashes. Both were dressed far too finely for such a venue in elegant gowns and sparkling gems. Just one of their rings would have fetched a month’s rent in the Pondrellen slums where Elwyn had grown up.
“My prince.” The taller of the two dipped into a curtsy, her sleek bronze braids brushing the floor. “It has been far too long.”
Aedyn looked at the girl like he’d never seen her before. Which Elwyn very much doubted. “Indeed,” he said, recovering with a bow. “I trust you’ve been well, um…”
“Jaeda.” She twined her fingers with those of her flaxen-haired friend. “And this is Merilla, in case you’ve forgotten her as well.”
“We were about to have a dance.” Merilla twirled a glossy curl around one finger. “You’re more than welcome to join us.”
Aedyn tipped his head Elwyn’s way “Another time, perhaps. I’m here with a friend.”
“But of course you are.” Jaeda’s tone turned brittle. “You know where to find us when you grow bored of her.”
Aedyn’s gaze trailed after the girls as they sauntered toward the stage, sending an irrational spark of envy through Elwyn. She smothered it swiftly, claiming one of the abandoned barstools. Sitting with one’s back to so large and rowdy a crowd was foolish, so she angled to face the press, hand resting on Gelah’s hilt.
The barman rushed over the moment Aedyn sat, abandoning his washrag in a half-dried pint glass. Such was the call of the crown.
“Two honeyed whiskeys.” Aedyn dropped too many coins on the counter. “And one for my friend.”
“I’m not much of a drinker,” Elwyn reminded him.
“Then don’t drink much.” He winked. “Worst case scenario, you don’t finish it, and I carry the burden for you.”
“Fair enough.” Elwyn had no moral aversion to spirits, only she treasured her wits and preferred to keep them about her. “I’ll try a sip, as the honeyed part sounds appealing.”
“I thought it might.”
Three tumblers slid down the counter in rapid succession, each brimming with amber drink. Aedyn pushed the first toward Elwyn, nudged the second aside, and lifted the third in a toast. “May the sun rise swiftly.”
“And may it light the path forward.”
Their glasses clinked, whiskey spattering over the rims. Aedyn emptied his in a single gulp, and his face flushed rose from the warmth. Elwyn’s sip was far less elegant. The drink burned its way down her throat, provoking a muffled cough.
Aedyn grinned. “Not so terrible, is it?”
“The whiskey?” Now that the fire had dwindled, the honeyed notes lingered on Elwyn’s tongue, smooth and sweet. Curse him for knowing her tastes so well. “I suppose not.”
“That too, but I was referring to the socializing.” He swapped his empty glass for the full one. “Don’t get me wrong, a little wallowing is necessary now and again, but it is unhealthy to only wallow.”
“Because it would be so much better to drown my grief beneath a sea of illicit potions and half-remembered trysts.” Elwyn’s second sip seared far less than the first. “Besides, I do not only wallow!”
“No, of course not. You also sulk, brood, and mope.”
“So you have been spying on me through Amatha,” Elwyn teased, elbowing him in the side. “And here I thought you’d forgotten me altogether.”
Aedyn brushed the mussy bronze hair from his eyes only to let it fall right back. This time, his blush could not be blamed on the whiskey. “I know I’ve been distant for a while. It’s only…I’ve just been…”
“Wallowing?”
His smile stuttered. “Aren’t we a pathetic pair?”
Elwyn shrugged. Pathetic? Certainly. But a pair…
Her next sip turned to a swig, and before she knew it, she’d drained the glass. Warmth blossomed beneath her collarbone, spreading swiftly. It felt nearly like courage.
“You know what’s interesting?” she asked, setting the empty tumbler aside. “I haven’t sulked, brooded, or moped for a single second of the last hour. I can’t imagine what’s made the difference.”
Aedyn’s grin nearly blinded her. He hopped from his stool, sweeping into another of his ridiculous, grandiose bows. “Care for a dance?”
“Drinking and dancing?” she laughed, shaking her head. “Don’t press your luck.”
“Luck is meant to be pressed! Besides, we made a deal, remember?”
That they had. She’d promised to teach him temperance, and he’d promised to teach her spontaneity, but he’d also vowed not to gamble with their friendship. Offering a dance felt a lot like placing a bet.
“We’re about to sneak off to realms unknown in direct defiance to the Judges,” she whispered, mindful of possible eavesdroppers. “Is that truly not spontaneous enough?”
“Ah, but you’re not afraid of death or damnation.” Aedyn offered his hand. “You’re afraid of fun.”
He just had to go and make it a challenge, didn’t he?
Elwyn placed her hand in his, and they were off—weaving through the raucous crowd, dodging the swings of rowdy drunkards, ducking between zealous dancers. The speed and whiskey combined their efforts, turning the tavern to a tumult. When Aedyn jarred to a stop in the middle of the dance floor, she tripped over his toes, tumbling right past him.
He caught her by the waist. “Careful,” he said, whirling her into an effortless dance. “We can’t have people thinking I’m trying to seduce some drunken innocent.”
“Because your reputation is spotless, otherwise.” Elwyn slipped from his grasp, finding her balance and rhythm both. “Besides, I’m not—”
“Innocent?” Aedyn quirked an eyebrow. “That’s shocking, given how you blush at the mere mention of—”
Elwyn gave his arm a playful punch. “I’m not drunk!”
He chuckled. “If that’s the case, match me with words, not fists.”
“Now, I couldn’t do that stone sober.” Elwyn laughed, mirroring his steps. “Honestly, how is it you speak so quickly and cleverly all at once?”
“Wit and whimsy aren’t opposites.” Aedyn grabbed her hand, twirling her toward him. “The trick lies in getting the words out before your cowardice can dull them.”
She pivoted away. “Well then, I pity the girls you kiss with a tongue so sharp.”
He pulled her back in. “I pity the boys you scorn with one so blunt.”
“Is this a duel?”
“That depends.” He dipped her low, brushing his nose against hers. “Would you like it to be?”
Elwyn paused, torn between sarcasm and sincerity.
“See there.” Aedyn tipped her back to her feet, holding her close in defiance to the music. “If you’d spoken freely just then, it might have been brilliant.”
“It might have been foolish.”
“It might have been both.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “As I said, wit and whimsy aren’t opposites.”
Copyright © 2024 by Lilla Glass
The Reel of Rhysia #2
Months have passed since the old worlds ended, and Elwyn has yet to find her place in the new one. Her fortunes turn when she's presented with the opportunity she didn't know she'd been waiting for: a shot at revenge against the spectral menace whose meddling doomed her closest companions.
Brannon has traded a life of bloodshed for one of incense and mantras, and he regrets the decision. When forced to confront the brutes who shaped him, he becomes more volatile than ever before and seeks out a worthy target for his rage. In setting fire to his past, he might just burn down every bridge he's built since.
Plagued by guilt for failing his friends and kingdom, Aedyn is desperate for redemption but would settle for distraction. A chance for both arises when he's recruited for a dangerous mission involving monsters who could crush his heart with their bare hands and a woman who could do the same with a smile.
Together with a friend they'd thought lost forever, a courageous fae warrior, and the embittered ward of their greatest foe, this ragtag group of ruffians ventures to an uncharted land filled with magic and mayhem. If they can uncover evidence of Unseelie plots, they could turn the tides of an inevitable war. If they fail, they might lose everything they cherish.
Fantasy | Fiction Adventure | Action [City Owl Press, On Sale: July 16, 2024, Paperback / e-Book, ISBN: 9781648984624 / eISBN: 9781648984617]
Lilla Glass is an author from Olympia, WA. While fantasy is her first love, she dabbles in horror, sci-fi, and the occasional (gasp) non-speculative work. In 2021, she signed a four-book deal with City Owl Press for her darkly whimsical fantasy series, the Reel of Rhysia. The first installment (the Unseen) is set to be released in July 2023.
Lilla’s short stories have been featured in several anthologies, including 13 by 11 and the Bells of Christmas 2 (published by Papillon du Pere), Enchanted Entrapments (published by Madhouse books), and Magic Beneath the Mistletoe (published by Mystic Owl Press). Her fantasy comedy, “Best Spuds,” received a Silver Honorable Mention from Writers of the Future in 2021.
In the rare event that she isn’t writing, Lilla works one of those pesky day-job thingies, reads stories and poetry she wishes she wrote, hangs out with her husband and bunny, and tosses herself into the occasional mosh pit.
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