Asher Converse's Arc

Chapter 16 of 30

The next morning Asher found Rowan in the storeroom, checking casks by smell. Rowan had come to Elixir as a fighter, one of the men sworn to defend the grove below the floor. He was dryad-raised, quiet, and read a room like a hunter reads tracks. Asher put a pitcher in his hands. "Tonight you serve drinks," Asher said. "You watch the door while you do it." Rowan turned the pitcher once, then nodded. "I can watch." But Rowan poured like a man feeding wolves. He set mugs down hard. He answered questions with three words and turned away. Coins stayed in fists. By dusk two patrons had waved him off and called for Tucker instead. Asher saw the problem plain. His spy could watch the crowd, but he could not work it. A server who scared off custom was worse than no server at all. Tucker leaned on the bar and watched Rowan drop a mug. "He'll clear the place by midnight," Tucker said, dry. He did not laugh. He set down his own mug and crossed the floor. "Come here. I'll show you." Tucker took a tray and moved through the crowd. He touched a shoulder, let a chain catch the light, leaned close to hear a story he didn't need. He came back with an empty tray and a fistful of coins. "You don't sell the drink," Tucker told Rowan. "You sell the sitting. Slow down. Look at them like they're the only one." Rowan watched him the way he watched a strange plant, learning its shape. Rowan tried again. He carried the tray slower. He held a man's eye a beat longer than the job needed. He said little, but he leaned in, and the leaning did the work his words would not. A woman at the end laughed and pressed a coin into his palm. Rowan looked at the coin, then at Tucker. Tucker tipped his mug. "There it is," Tucker said. By midnight the till was heavy and the floor stayed full. Rowan moved easy now, quiet and warm, catching every face that passed the door. Asher counted the take twice and found none missing. He had put a fighter at the taps, and the fighter had learned to charm as well as watch. Elixir ran on three sets of hands, and every one belonged to a man sworn below the floor.