Chapter 38: Midnight Confidences

The night had deepened, and the Anchor Tavern was finally quiet after the excitement of the evening's performance. Elara lay in her narrow bed, her mind still buzzing with the events of the night when a soft knock at her door startled her from her reverie.

"Elara?" Nell's voice whispered through the crack. "You awake?"

Elara sat up, pushing her tangled hair from her face. "Come in, Nell."

The door creaked open, and Nell slipped inside, looking uncharacteristically hesitant. "I can't sleep," she admitted. "Mind if I join you for a bit?"

Elara smiled, patting the space beside her on the bed. "Of course not. Come on, then."

As Nell settled in, Elara couldn't help but tease, "Just don't let yourself get carried away like last time, eh?"

Nell chuckled, elbowing Elara gently. "Cheeky! Don't worry, I'll be on my best behaviour."

For a while, they lay in comfortable silence, listening to the muffled sounds of the city beyond the tavern walls. Then Nell spoke, her voice thoughtful.

"That Sam... he's a crafty one, isn't he? Joining in our performance like that."

Elara turned to face her friend, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"

Nell propped herself up on one elbow. "Well, it's not like him to get involved in the entertainment, is it? He usually just sits back and watches. But tonight...

Elara replied "You are right. There was a moment when... well when things could have gotten awkward. My cloth shifter and blood started dripping on the floor. But Sam stepped in like he was covering for me."

Nell listened intently as Elara recounted the events of the performance, her eyes widening in amazement. "That was some quick thinking on his part," she said with a laugh. "I can't believe he used a mop as a dance partner!"

Elara shrugged modestly. "I guess he just wanted to help me out," she replied, trying to downplay her role in the situation. "And it worked! The show went on without any hiccups."

Nell patted Elara's arm reassuringly. "You know what they say - when you're down on your luck, even an alley cat will come running," she said with a wink. She turned serious again for a moment before adding, "But I didn't even notice. Here I thought I was being so observant!"

Elara laughed softly. "Don't worry about it. You were already doing so much to help me. But... I think I'd like to thank Sam if I can. He didn't have to do that."

Nell frowned, concern etching her features. "I don't know, Elara. Getting involved with someone like Sly Sam... it's risky."

"I know," Elara sighed. "But if he went out of his way to help me, doesn't that deserve some acknowledgement?"

Nell chewed her lip thoughtfully. "Maybe. But we'd have to be careful about it. If Jack or his men saw you having a private chat with Sam, it could cause all sorts of trouble. They'd see it as taking sides."

Elara nodded, understanding the delicate balance at play. "You're right, of course. We'd need to find the right moment when Jack isn't around."

"Leave it to me," Nell said, a glint of mischief in her eye. "I know all the comings and goings in this place. I'll find you a chance to speak with Sam privately, without raising any suspicions."

As they continued to talk, their conversation drifted to other topics – their plans for new songs, funny moments from past performances, and their dreams for the future. Elara found herself marvelling at how quickly Nell had become such an important part of her life.

"Nell," she said softly, as their chatter began to wind down, "I'm so glad you're here. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Nell's face softened, a rare vulnerability showing through her usual bravado. "Aw, duck. I feel the same way. You know, before you came along, I never really had a proper friend. It was always just me, looking out for myself. But now..."

She trailed off, seemingly embarrassed by the admission. Elara reached out, squeezing Nell's hand. "Now we look out for each other," she finished.

Nell nodded, blinking rapidly. "Yeah. Exactly that."

As the night wore on, their conversation grew more sporadic, punctuated by yawns and sleepy murmurs. Eventually, they drifted off to sleep, the warmth of their friendship a comforting presence in the small room.

The next few days passed in a whirl of activity. The success of "The Cobblestone Riddles" had brought a surge of new patrons to the Anchor, all eager to hear more of Elara's enigmatic songs. Maggie had even taken to turning people away at the door, the tavern packed to bursting every night.

Elara and Nell threw themselves into creating new material, spending every spare moment composing lyrics and working out melodies. They drew inspiration from the colourful characters that frequented the Anchor, weaving tales of dockside romances, thrilling heists, and mystical encounters in fog-shrouded alleys.

Through it all, Elara kept a watchful eye out for Sly Sam, hoping for a chance to express her gratitude. But the gang leader seemed to be keeping a low profile, appearing only occasionally and always surrounded by his men.

It was nearly a week later when Nell finally approached Elara with a conspiratorial grin. "Tonight's the night," she whispered, pulling Elara into a quiet corner. "Jack and his lot are off on some job across town. Sam's due to come in for a quiet drink around sunset. I've arranged for Maggie to need my help in the cellar right about then, so you'll have a few minutes alone at the bar."

Elara felt a flutter of nervousness in her stomach. "Are you sure about this, Nell? Maybe I should just let it go."

Nell shook her head firmly. "No, you were right before. If Sam helped you out, he deserves to know it was appreciated. Just keep it brief and casual-like, yeah? No need to make a big fuss."

As the sun began to set, painting the grimy windows of the Anchor in shades of gold and crimson, Elara took up her position behind the bar. Her hands shook slightly as she polished glasses, her eyes darting to the door every few seconds.

Finally, just as Nell had predicted, Sly Sam sauntered in. He was alone, for once, his usual entourage nowhere to be seen. He paused in the doorway, his sharp eyes taking in the nearly empty tavern before settling on Elara.

"Well, well," he said smoothly, approaching the bar with a catlike grace. "If it isn't our resident nightingale. To what do I owe the pleasure of such personal service?"

Elara took a deep breath, willing her voice to remain steady. "Good evening, Mr. Sam. What can I get for you?"

Sam's lips quirked in a half-smile. "Let's start with a whiskey, shall we? Neat."

As Elara poured the drink, she gathered her courage. "Actually, Mr. Sam, I wanted to thank you. For the other night, during my performance. I believe you... helped me out of a potentially awkward situation."

Sam's eyebrows rose fractionally, the only indication of surprise on his otherwise impassive face. He took a sip of his whiskey, regarding Elara over the rim of the glass. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, my dear," he said smoothly. "I was merely enjoying the show, like everyone else."

Elara felt a flash of frustration at his evasion but pressed on. "Nevertheless, I appreciate your... discretion. It was kind of you."

For a moment, Sam's carefully constructed mask seemed to slip. A flicker of genuine emotion – surprise? Respect? – passed over his features before he schooled them back into their usual aloof expression.

"You're an observant one, aren't you?" he murmured, more to himself than to Elara. Then, louder, "Well, my dear, let's just say I have a vested interest in ensuring your continued success here at the Anchor. Your performances have been good for business – all kinds of business."

Before Elara could respond, the cellar door banged open, and Nell's voice rang out. "Oi, Elara! Give us a hand with these casks, will you?"

Sam drained the last of his whiskey and set the glass down with a decisive clink. "And that, I believe, is my cue to depart. A pleasure as always, Miss Elara. I look forward to your next performance."

As he turned to leave, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "Oh, and do be careful, my dear. Not everyone in our little circle is as... appreciative of your talents as I am. It would be a shame to see such a promising career cut short by misplaced trust."

With that cryptic warning, he was gone, leaving Elara to ponder the layers of meaning behind his words as she hurried to help Nell with the casks.

Later that night, as they prepared for the evening's performance, Elara recounted her conversation with Sam to Nell in hushed tones.

"I don't like it," Nell frowned, adjusting the ribbons on Elara's costume. "Sounds like he's trying to get his hooks into you if you ask me."

Elara shook her head. "I don't think so. It felt more like... a warning. Like he was trying to tell me something without actually saying it."

Nell snorted. "That's Sly Sam for you. Never says anything straight out if he can help it. But what do you think he meant about 'misplaced trust'?"

Before Elara could respond, Maggie's voice boomed from the main room. "Girls! You're on in five minutes, and we've got a full house tonight!"

As they hurried to take their places, Elara's mind whirled with questions. What was Sam warning her about? Jack? One of his own men? Or someone else entirely?

But as the first notes of their newest song filled the air, Elara pushed her worries aside. For now, she had a performance to give, a crowd to enthral, and a friend by her side. Whatever dangers lurked in the shadows of the Anchor, they could wait for another day.

As she sang, her voice weaving tales of mystery and wonder, Elara felt a surge of determination. She had come too far, overcome too much, to let fear hold her back now. Whatever challenges lay ahead, she would face them head-on, with Nell by her side and the power of her music as her shield.