Vesik 3 Winter's Demon by Eric Asher

is a more reasonable estimate.”
    Vassili said something in Russian, and I’m fairly certain it was unpleasant. Edgar took a sip of ale as he watched Vassili.
    “Why so quiet, Edgar?” Foster asked. “Seems like five minutes ago you were acting like our leader.”
    Edgar glanced at Zola and Vassili, and then turned his gaze on Foster. “I am not the leader here. Protecting the Blessing is our priority. I may have suggestions, but I will not lead you all blindly into this conflict. Vassili is a long-lived and cunning strategist. The vampires will follow him into the Abyss if he asks it of them. The rest of you will follow Zola.”
    Foster stared at Edgar, slack-jawed.
    “Edgar is wiser than you may think,” Zola said as she gave Foster a tight smile.
    “If I give you an order as I would one of my Watchers,” Edgar said, “just know it is in the madness of conflict and I believe it best for our entire group.”
    I tapped my fingers on my glass of ale and watched a thin bead of cold water roll down its surface. Edgar sounded downright reasonable, which really made me wonder what made him tick. I knew he’d been betrayed by necromancers in the past, but was that really why he seemed to despise me all these years?
    “So why are we here and not in Hermann?” Dad asked. It was a good question.
    “Because everything thinks the Blessing is here,” Zola said.
    “You mean every one?” I asked.
    Zola shot me a look. “No, Ah mean every thing.”
    “We’ve dropped breadcrumbs into the rumor mill for the better part of a year,” Edgar said as he set his ale down. “Anyone with knowledge of the Blessing believes it is below Rivercene, and they dare not venture there.” Edgar shook his head. “I never imagined you would have hidden it anywhere nearby.”
    Cassie just smiled.
    The bartender dropped off a very un-Irish appetizer of toasted ravioli. Several hands shot out at once and a small battle for the parmesan cheese ensued. Sam won. Sam always wins when parmesan is on the line. I flashed her a smile and she narrowed her eyes.
    Edgar swallowed a toasted rav and chased it with some ale before continuing.
    “They’ll all come here. We’ll be waiting for them.”
    “Us?” Dad asked. “Just us? How many could show up? We don’t have the numbers to engage more than a handful.”
    “It’s not just us, Dimitry,” Zola said. “There are three more Watchers in this bar. You may have missed the vampires on the roof.”
    Sam glanced up at Zola and then at Vassili.
    Vassili’s eyebrows were raised. “You are observant.”
    “Ah’m not senile yet,” Zola said.
    Vassili smiled and gave Zola a silent toast before taking a drink.
    “The Thunderbird is here—” Zola started to say.
    “Yeah, that has no chance of backfiring in fantastic and horrifying ways,” Foster muttered.
    Zola’s eyes moved to the fairy as she finished. “—and is our easiest path if Ezekiel comes. The Guardian is here, and an old friend should be meeting us soon.”
    Edgar’s eyes flicked to Zola and then to Foster. “I’m not sure I want to know.”
    “You don’t,” Zola said.
    A busboy, or girl in this case, picked up our appetizer plates and the bartender set down a tableful of steaming food. I took a deep breath and almost drooled on the bread.
    “Oh man,” Foster and I said together.
    “Bacon and cabbage, wheaten bread, and poundies,” the bartender said. “Enjoy.”
    “Poundies?” I asked as he walked away. “Looks like mashed potatoes.”
    “Yeah, until you taste it,” Foster said.
    So I did. It was creamier than most American mashed potatoes and the scallions added a sharp, onion flavor. “You’re right.”
    “Bacon and cabbage, what more can you say?” Dad said as he scooped up a mouthful.
    “I can say give me bread,” Sam said as she tore a piece in half and almost groaned.
    Silence reigned for a while after that, as it often does when good food abounds. When we wrapped up, Mike leaned back in his chair