Chapter 18
ADRYEL
“Hey, you got any wine in here?” Adryel’s heart was still beating hard from that surprise animal attack. She started walking through the living space of Stron’s house, the adrenalin dumping.
“I probably do,” he replied.
“Something stronger wouldn’t break my heart, either,” she said as she walked over to the wall, admiring the little figurines in the nooks. Such tiny little detailed things. Some were too fancy to be for a child to play with. Others were worn so much, they had to be toys.
Anything to not think about that animal that tried to attack her outside.
Or the noise that Stron made because of it. No, focusing on the little carvings calmed her, at least a little.
She crossed her arms and rubbed her shoulders, just trying to pull the day back together.
The last few days.
All of it.
It all was turning into this chaos that felt more terrifying than anything she’d seen the Rhysgarrds do. It wouldn’t surprise her in the slightest at this point, if she started smelling that signature scent they always had on them.
Or on their crime scenes.
She’d learned to loathe the smell of vetiver and ash. That earthy, smokey smell always felt so out of place on Kerde, where plants and campfires were almost non-existent.
Here, though, where nature was everywhere, she found herself thinking she smelled it all the time, and it was just the damn ambience.
“Here,” Stron said, handing her a glass filled with dark amber, almost black liquid. It did not smell like vetiver and ash, though it tinkled from the–was that a stone?--in the glass.
She could smell it before she tasted it. It smelled fiery and strong. Exactly what she needed. Cleansed her palate perfectly. “What is this?”
“It’s called Depth. A miner’s spirit.” He raised his own glass. “Try it.”
She watched him for a moment before she brought her glass to her lips. “Well, if you were going to drug me, this would be the time.”
“You drink that, and I won’t have to.”
A dare she couldn’t refuse.
She held his gaze, and tipped the glass, taking a mouth full of the liquid.
It went down hard, the fiery smell turned into a blazing heat, hitting her first, but after a second, it turned to a warm, sweet finish on the backside.
Surprisingly good.
She exhaled a breath, and glanced in the cup at the ice that wasn’t ice at all. “Is this served over a rock?”
She glanced back at Stron, who was staring at her.
“What?”
He blinked twice, smiled slightly, before replying. “Yes, it’s served over a chilled stone, rather than actual ice. Better taste on the minerals in the spirit.”
She nodded and took another sip. The second one didn’t feel as strong.
Maybe she just knew what to expect.
“You don’t mind that?” Stron asked, watching her.
“No. Should I?” She tipped her head to the side, watching him. “Did you think I’d spit it out or something? Think it was swill or some such? Because I’ve tasted garbage spirits, and this isn’t it. Not even close.”
“Drank a lot of bad drinks?” He asked, moving a little closer to her.
“My fair share,” she said. Adryel took a few steps away from him, because he was warm, and she didn’t need that heat near her right now.
The drink was keeping her warm enough as it was.
Already her cheeks felt hot, and she hoped she wasn’t turning into a red fruit from the alcohol in it.
But she’d be damned if she was going to show any weakness to Stron. She’d done enough of that for one night.
Hanging onto him because of an animal?
She partially wanted to kick her own ass for acting like such a baby.
She sat down on the nearby couch, and put her cup on the table. The cushions enveloped her, but this time, instead of sitting up straight and properly like she had with Baba, she relaxed into it, feeling very small in the furniture built for larger beings.
Stron didn’t stay away, he joined her on the couch. Not quite touching her, but he was close enough.
“So tell me about it,” he said.
“About what?”
“The bad drinks you’ve had.”
“I’ve had good ones too.”
“So you’ve had bad drinks and good ones.”
“Sure. Hasn’t everyone?”
“Maybe,” he replied, his eyes twinkling as he spoke.
She raised an eyebrow. “I think you need to tell me one of your bad drink moments, and I’ll tell you one of mine.”
“Fine,” he said. He took another sip, a bigger one, off his drink before speaking. “When I was nineteen, me and some friends thought we could get—”
“Nineteen standard, or nineteen Kantenan?”
He stared at her for a second.
“I’m trying to paint a proper picture for reference.”
He shook his head, a smile on his face. “Nineteen Kantenan, then.”
“So like 22 standard. Still young and dumb. Got it.”
“Hey!”
“Well, were you smart then?”
“Probably not that much,” he said with a laugh. “After all, we thought we were smart, and could make our own mix of Depth. We read all the available recipes, and set up a distilling station out of some old parts. When we got it processed and went to drink it, we all threw up. It was atrocious.”
She laughed.
“Terrible, right?”
“No, you’re a horrible storyteller,” Adryel said.
“I am not.”
“You absolutely are. That story was just dumb. Like you didn’t even try to come up with something interesting.”
“Hey, can you do better?”
“You bet I can.”
He picked up his glass again. “So please, master storyteller, tell me a tale of bad spirits.”
She leaned back, took another sip off the drink she had, and then glanced at Stron, who was getting better looking by the minute.
She wasn’t going to think about that context anytime soon, but okay. So he was cute. Didn’t really matter. Not like they were mated or anything. Didn’t their alarms go off immediately or some such thing, when they met their person?
He hadn’t said a thing, so obviously, she wasn’t anyone special to him.
Was she sad about that?
No, not really.
Maybe.
She wasn’t sure.
Another sip, and she started to feel the depth of, well, Depth. Her shoulders relaxed more into the couch, and she pulled a leg underneath herself.
“A case of bad spirits,” Adryel began, a memory creeping up. “A few years ago, back when I was at my prime–”
“Your prime of what?” he asked.
She smiled. “Creative borrowing.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“You want to hear this story or not?”
“Oh, I absolutely do.”
“Good. Because you’re gonna,” she replied. “Now, I was working as a waitress for some nefarious characters who did lots of bad things, and they employed people who could do more bad things. So there were bad people all around in this place. Like all the damn time.”
“And you worked there,” Stron asked, his face somber. And were those armor bones on his shoulders getting bigger?
She didn’t know. Maybe she was just seeing things.
“I did. I served drinks. And I watched everyone.”
“Was that part of your job? Watching?”
She shrugged. “Not intentionally, no. It started for employee gossip. Who was talking to who, who was sneaking around dating what waitress on the side, that kind of thing. Just became a habit as I got to know the regulars, and would see them flirting with staff and stuff.”
“Did they approach you as well?”
“Sometimes. I didn’t really get involved with that stuff there. I’d seen too many employees never show up again after a date with one of the family.”
“How did you manage to get out of it?”
“One of the staff managers accused me of stealing their bottles of cheap spirits. Guess a bunch had gone missing from the storage rooms, and they swore they had evidence of me going in there and coming out with them.”
Stron raised his eyebrow. “Did you steal it?”
“Of course not!” She replied. “If I was going to steal, I would take the expensive stuff. Why bother with the cheap stuff? Make it worth the trouble.”
He shook his head. “The logic follows, I suppose.”
“Right? I told the staff manager that, too. I wouldn’t bother stealing the cheap stuff, that I could get anywhere. I’d take the top end stuff.”
“Did they find the thief?”
“Don’t know. They fired me.”
“Why?”
“Because I stole the good stuff and put it in the cheap bottles, and took the cheap bottles home.” She started laughing, and so did he.
He stared at her for a minute. “So you smuggled it out in the cheap bottles?”
“Yep. Me and my roommate had a helluva good weekend!” Memories flooded her with Sret, and the fun they’d had that weekend. They made her smile for a moment, before it pulled at her heart.
She looked down and took a bigger sip of her drink, letting the intense flavor wash away any emotions.
Stron shook his head, drawing her out of the memory. “Are you always so sneaky?”
“When I have to be,” she replied.
“Well, you do not have to sneak around me.”
“We’ll see,” she replied.
He watched her for a moment. “You don’t know how else to be, do you?”
She blinked. “Be, what, exactly?”
“Guarded. Protective. Secretive.”
“No more than you,” she replied.
“I’m not secretive,” he replied.
This time, she was sure she saw his bone armor start moving around, like it was getting bigger.
Getting ready for a fight.
“Defensive, much?”
“Deflective much?” he answered back. And it should have put her hackles up, and made her mad.
But the glimmer in his eye said something different. That it wasn’t an attack at all. “You’re pretty sure you know everything, don’t you?” she asked.
“It’s in my nature.”
“Is that so?”
“Knowing my enemies is important to maintaining balance.”
She studied him for a second, trying to decide if he was referring to her, or to someone else. Or both. “Is that what I am? An enemy?”
“I don’t know what you are, Adryel. An undefined variable, that much is certain.”
“You sound like a scientist trying to study me.”
He grimaced. “Don’t compare me to Khalzin.”
“What’s wrong with Khalzin?”
“Science makes him withdrawn. I am not withdrawn.”
She snorted. “You’re as withdrawn as I am. Neither one of us like to show our hand unless we absolutely have to.”
He nodded. “That much is true, I believe.”
“I know it is. You’re protecting your people.
I’m protecting myself. Same game. Different goals.
If I learned anything working in the underground, it is that protecting what you have can be worth everything.
” She crossed her arms, and her finger grazed the spot where her chip was snug under her clothing.
“That it can be,” Stron said.