Read Online The Rogue Retrieval by Dan Koboldt - Free Book Online

aliens. Maybe on this side of the gateway, he was the alien. One thing was certain: they’d not yet met a Vegas illusionist, which meant he had a completely naive audience.
    Also known as a magician’s favorite thing.
    â€œHere’s the deal,” Kiara said. She’d called a halt in the slushy mess that counted for a road in Alissia’s rural areas. Two hundred yards downhill, a village crouched beneath a haze of smoke. “We like the Wayfarer because it caters to travelers. It’s the only place in this area that we can resupply. But it does attract a rough crowd.”
    â€œDefine ‘rough,’ ” Quinn said.
    â€œMercenaries, cutpurses, bounty hunters, and smugglers,” Logan said. “Any of ’em would gut you like a pig if he thought he might find a few coins in your pockets.”
    â€œSounds delightful. I think I’ll wait here,” Quinn said. Logan had showed him some video footage of street fights and muggings he’d recorded while on scouting expeditions here. The idea of entering a building crowded with violent criminals was terrifying.
    â€œWe’re all going,” Kiara said. Her tone said there would be no argument.
    â€œHow do I keep from getting gutted like a pig, as you so delightfully put it?” Quinn asked.
    â€œStay right by me, and don’t stare at anyone,” Logan said. “Make yourself invisible. You’re supposed to be good at that.”
    â€œGreat,” Quinn said. Helpful as ever.
    The village was nothing more than a dozen ramshackle buildings that squatted on either side of the slushy road. All of them were wood, but no two looked alike. They were practically on top of one another in hodgepodge fashion, like a city inspector’s nightmare. The thatch roofs were at least a foot thick, maybe more, and sagging under the weight of the snow.
    The whole village looked like it could collapse any minute.
    The area outside the Wayfarer boasted a variety of animals lashed to wooden posts. Most were mules and half-­starved packhorses, but a few stood out. They were armored in some kind of animal hide, and bristled with swords, spears, even longbows.
    â€œMerc horses,” Logan said.
    â€œThat’s a lot of weapons,” Quinn said.
    â€œThey’ll have even more inside. Good weapons are sort of like a mercenary résumé.”
    â€œWhy do you think they’re here?” Quinn asked. Armed men weren’t exactly his first choice, if he had to meet the natives. Just seeing their horses made him nervous.
    â€œHard to say. Anyone with a level head is probably looking for work farther south where it’s harder to freeze to death.”
    Which, sad to say, sounded perfectly reasonable.
    They secured the horses to a set of hitching posts, as far away from the other animals as possible. Kiara pulled open the inn’s stout wooden door. The inside was poorly lit. The warm air reeked of soot, sweat, and ale.
    â€œMake sure your weapons are visible,” Logan muttered across the comm link.
    Quinn loosened his cloak enough that the hilt of his short sword poked through. Chaudri and Kiara did similar with their blades. It was a casual but concerted gesture; more than a few of those in the common room took notice that the newcomers were well-­armed. Not to be trifled with.
    One such cognizant fellow was the proprietor, a slender, middle-­aged man wearing a white apron. He greeted them with the nervous smile of a guy who doesn’t want any trouble.
    Logan held up four fingers, and then led them into the smoky back half of the common room.
    Quinn did his best to keep his eyes to himself, but he couldn’t help but glance around. Alissians. They looked human, albeit grubbier and with a good bit of facial hair to go around. The men had untrimmed beards and long hair that blended together into shaggy dark manes about their faces. The women had their hair pinned up, which explained why Kiara