Oracle (Book 5) by Ben Cassidy

now.”
    Tomas slowly lowered his hands, glancing around the tavern. “So I see.”
    “Simon, quit drinking that beer. You’ll give yourself a tummy ache.” Kendril reached over and smacked the creature.
    Simon brayed loudly. He lifted his head up out of a bucket filled with beer that had been placed on the floor. His muzzle was covered with foam.
    “Sure, but I didn’t know you’d be going for seconds.” Kendril took a drink of his own beer. “Have you had anything to eat?”
    The mule swished his tail and snorted.
    “ Beside the cake,” Kendril said.
    Tomas glanced back and forth between the man and the mule, a look of complete confusion on his face. “So,” he started again, looking around at the overturned chairs and tables in the tavern’s common room, “I see that you’re doing well for yourself here.”
    “You could say that.” Kendril put the flagon down heavily on the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Folk here threw a celebration for me.”
    Tomas cast an appraising eye over the remains of the common room. “Looks like it got a little out of hand.”
    Kendril shrugged disinterestedly. “Things started off well enough. Then they refused to let Simon here into the tavern.”
    The mule lifted his head from the beer bucket and showed his teeth.
    Tomas stared at Kendril as if he were mad. Indeed, he was beginning to wonder if the man was mad. “You…you started a fight and kicked everyone out of here…” Tomas glanced at a broken mirror behind the central bar, “because they wouldn’t let your mule come inside?”
    Kendril picked up a carving knife on the table and pointed the sharp end towards Tomas. “That’s discrimination, plain and simple.” He flicked the knife around in his hand and began to cut off a slice of crusty bread that was on the table.
    Tomas paused a beat. He looked awkwardly out the open door of the tavern. “So what exactly—?”
    “I killed a giant, flying monster that was attacking the docks.” Kendril took a bite of the bread.
    Tomas’ look of general confusion remained firmly in place. “You… what ?”
    Kendril tore off a hunk of bread and tossed it to Simon. “I killed it. With a whale gun.” He lifted his hand in the air and swooped it down towards the table. “It was coming right at me, and I had a whale gun. I shot it, and I killed it.” He lifted the knife again. “Don’t believe me? It’s right out there on the rocks. Carcass is huge. Go take a look if you want. Everyone else in this cursed city has. They’re chopping up the body for meat, or souvenirs, or maybe potions. Regnuthu take me if I know.”
    Tomas stared at his fellow Ghostwalker. “I…don’t understand.”
    “Really?” Kendril gave a subdued chuckle. “Because I do. Eru hates me. He’s cursed me, Tomas, cursed me to wander this wretched land without even death as a balm for my suffering.”
    Tomas started to answer, but stopped.
    “It was barreling right at me.” Kendril kept talking, almost to himself. “It should have killed me. I was willing it to kill me. There’s no way I should have survived.”
    Tomas looked out the tavern door. “Then how—?”
    “Apparently,” Kendril continued, as if he were tutoring a child, “the beast has one vulnerable spot. Just one.” He pointed the knife towards his face. “The eyes. I shot it in the eye. Iron dart went all the way into the thing’s brain and killed it instantly.”
    Tomas swallowed. He felt like he was talking to a lunatic. “That’s…quite a shot.”
    “It wasn’t.” Kendril tossed the knife down again and took a drink from his ale. “It was luck. Dumb, stupid, impossible luck. No one could make that shot. Not the best marksman in the world.” He slammed the flagon back down on the table. “Ashes, when the thing hit the breakwater it should have killed me right then.” He gave a despondent sigh. “But it didn’t. Missed me by three feet. Knocked me back into the ocean, but like the