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The woman hovering outside of the tavern reeked of fear.
The early morning sun burned Lambert’s eyes as he waited at the notice board at the center of the small town to see if she’d ever find the courage to approach him. Most likely, she had a job for him, but either she couldn’t make her own posting or someone didn’t want the information public.
Or maybe she was going to try to stab him.
That would be annoying, but he was ready for that possibility.
She took her first step as he studied the notice about an impending wedding for the fourth time. He couldn’t decide if the border intentionally looked like dicks or if someone was worse at drawing than he was.
“Master Witcher?”
He turned slowly, but her heartrate still spiked. His eyes swept over her face before settling at her ear, but it didn’t matter. She was watching his hands. “Something I can help you with?”
“No,” she nearly squeaked and took a ragged breath. Her hands started to tremble. Whatever she had to tell him, she thought it was damn important to put herself through this. “No,” she said again. “Another witcher came through yesterday and cleared out the bastard in the woods.”
Lambert nodded, though she still wasn’t looking at him.
With the midsummer festival starting up in the next town, crowds were pouring in from all directions. A lot of creatures would flee, but not all. It was smart to take the time now to clear out whatever might take advantage of the strangers or the things big enough they didn’t give a fuck if they were spotted.
And a little extra coin for the festivities never hurt.
With any luck, Aiden had picked up the contract and was planning to spend his bounty on a week of good food from people too cheerful to consider spitting in it.
“I’m tellin’ you,” the woman’s voice shook, “because I’m guessin’ he’s pretty hurt.”
His stomach knotted, and the urge to snarl nearly won out. “Hurt how?”
“I didn’t see him leave” —each word seemed to come out faster than the last— “but I scrubbed a lotta blood and some terrible stench outta his room. He left good coin for the mess.”
“He wasn’t run out?” Lambert demanded, and the way the woman stumbled back he could tell he was losing control of his temper no matter how he tried to rein it in until he had all the information. He needed the facts to make a plan.
“No. He seemed a decent sort, and Miloš said he took care of the woods and burned that shit stain of a beast. He coulda stayed a while.”
Lambert dug a coin out of the smaller purse on his belt and held it out for her. “Thanks. For the information.”
The woman hesitated but snatched the coin and retreated to the tavern.
Despite her fear, she wasn’t lying that they would’ve let the other witcher stay, a least for a while. There were only a few other reasons he could think of to move from a safe place while injured.
You wanted to hole up somewhere to die in peace, or you knew there was a safer option close by.
A safer option like a lover in the next town who could help.
Except Lambert hadn’t gotten to the festival first. He was standing here wasting time.
Fuck.
He scooped up his pack and took off at a trot, hoping the neutrality the town felt about the witcher that had saved them from something big and dangerous would extend to a different witcher running through their town. He passed the last building without meeting anyone else and picked up speed along the road.
There was no point trying to find the scene of the fight or the creature’s remains. Aiden would tell him all the details when Lambert got to him, if he was conscious.
If he still lived.
Lambert mentally inventoried his potions and spare ingredients as he ran.
The full moon had risen in a violet sky by the time Lambert saw the lights of the growing festival. The main attractions wouldn’t start for another day or two, but the visitors had already thickened in the narrow streets around stalls and vendors. Intersections had performers, bards and jugglers drawing their own crowds.
His and Aiden’s standing accommodation was on the far side of town from where he’d entered, so he moved as quickly as he dared. As much as he wanted to shove people out of his way, he couldn’t risk causing a scene. It would only slow him further.
A scent he’d know anywhere snapped his head around, and he jerked to a halt. Someone bounced off his pack, but he didn’t care. Anyone foolish enough to be following so close to his swords deserved what they got.
He scanned the crowd, desperation growing with each second he held still.
Relief made his knees weak as he spotted the back of familiar brown hair down a side road. His ribs unlaced, and he could take a full breath for the first time in hours.
Aiden was upright, at least. That was a good sign that whatever the injury was, it wasn’t fatal. It likely wasn’t a lost limb either.
He blew out a shaky breath that broke on a brittle laugh. He should’ve known Aiden wouldn’t go down so easily.
“Lam!”
He whirled around, reaching for the dagger at his side but not pulling it.
Eskel beamed at him from further down the main road.
Lambert squeezed his eyes shut, but no, his brother was still there, caught behind a line of people watching some sort of sleight of hand that looked like magic but didn’t make his medallion thrum.
He looked back toward Aiden, but maybe Eskel’s call had caught his attention too, because he had his hand raised in greeting, grinning as he wove through the crowd with ease.
Lambert looked between the two of them again and debated a tactical retreat. For years, he’d managed to avoid letting the other Wolves know he had a lover, let alone a Cat. He'd gotten sloppy, and this was the price.
Aiden’s expression had collapsed into concern, and Lambert had to look away. His lover and his brother were on a collision course whether he stayed in between them or not. Maybe he could keep Eskel distracted long enough Aiden could skip town, and Eskel wouldn’t even know their connection.
Aiden might even forgive him, eventually.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Aiden asked, putting his hand on Lambert’s arm.
Lambert’s laugh was rough and ugly. “I thought you were.”
He wanted to haul Aiden in for the embrace they usually shared when they had spent too much time apart, but Aiden was holding himself back, frowning at him like he couldn’t figure out where Lambert’s head was.
He would sympathize if he didn’t have other concerns.
“I’m fine,” Aiden said.
Eskel stepped up to his side. “That would be me.”
Lambert went rigid, scrambling for something he could use to provide a distraction, something to get him out of this situation and back to before the two parts of his life decided to kill each other or Aiden decided he wasn’t worth the hassle of the Wolf school on his tail or Eskel told him to drop the Cat or don’t go back to Kaer Morhen for the Winter or—
“Easy, Lam,” Eskel said. His hand hovered over Lambert’s shoulder for a moment before he pulled it back. “I’m healing. Your Cat’s unharmed, and you need to breathe.”
“My—?”
Eskel cocked his head and flicked his eyes around the street. “This isn’t the place for this.”
“We met yesterday,” Aiden jumped in. His hand clenched on Lambert’s arm, pulling him into that firm embrace he’d been missing but he couldn’t bring himself to raise his arms and return it. “I patched him up. He's not mad about the Cat thing.”
Eskel made a noise Lambert couldn’t decipher, and he went stiff again.
"Fine, he's not mad I'm a Cat." Aiden shoved him back, turning him by the shoulders and shoved him at Eskel. “He meditated on the floor of our room, Lam.”
Lambert choked, but Eskel pulled him into a hug before he could wrap his head around that one. “Why?”
“Venomous wound in my back,” Eskel said, clapping him on the shoulder and pushing him back upright just before the contact could tip over into too much. “Needed help cleaning it and stitching it, and I was out Swallow.”
“Out of—? How could you be out before midsummer? I filled your supplies myself. That should’ve lasted—”
Eskel laughed, but now that Lambert was looking he could see how pale he was, the way he favored one side as he stood, the wince when he shifted too far.
“But you’re alright?”
“I will be.”
“You, though,” Aiden said, “you should try the new dish at the Lyrian food stall on the corner. Stefania’s outdone herself this year.”
Lambert looked from Eskel to Aiden and back. He didn’t get this lucky. He didn’t get to have the people he cared about get along, but he wasn’t going to admit he hadn’t stopped to eat in his race to get to the festival either.
“Lead the way then.”
Aiden grinned at him before turning back the way he’d come. Lambert followed, and Eskel fell in at his back.