by Peter Glenn
“Hello to you, too,” I said, a big grin on my face. “How’s my favorite Frenchman?”
“Fraunchman,” Sevin corrected in a thick, haughty French accent.
I burst out laughing and slapped him on the back. “That’s why we Americans aren’t fond of you fraunchy-types,” I said, echoing his rather snooty French accent the best I could and undoubtedly failing badly. “You’re always correcting our pronunciation.”
“Oui oui,” he said, his eyes gleaming as he returned my smile. “Zat is our job, no?”
I just shook my head. “Do you even know any other French words?”
His cheeks flushed and he lowered his head for a second to hide his embarrassment.
Sevin was technically French, but his parents had moved him to the states when he was about six months old, and he’d lived in some part of the Pacific Northwest ever since. Even so, he insisted on “living up his heritage” and saying everything in as French a way as possible. I just found the whole thing to be hysterical.
“But of course, mon ami,” Sevin replied a second later, looking back up at me with a wide grin.
“You sure pulled that out of your ass real quick,” I chided him.
I nudged him in the ribs, and he let out a slight chuckle. We both knew he really didn’t speak French, even though he attempted it on a regular basis.
“What’s your magic talent again?” I asked.
The other guys and girls in Mei’s bar I always understood, but Sevin never appeared to do anything magical of any substance. At least not that I could tell. And Mei had rules about her place. No regular humans allowed. Only us magicy types. So he must have had something up his sleeve.
“I’m clairvoyant, remember,” he told me.
“Oh yeah,” I said.
I felt like we’d had this conversation several times before and I’d just never paid attention. Which was probably accurate. I rarely actually sought out people with magical gifts unless I needed them.
“Well, Mr. Future, why don’t you surprise us all? Tell me something that’s going to happen in the next few minutes.”
Sevin furrowed his brow and rubbed the slight goatee at his chin. “Ah, I have just ze thing,” he said a moment later. “I shall tell you ze next song that will play on ze radio.”
I bobbed my head. “Okay, genius, I’m game.” I glanced over at Mei. “Mei, darling, would you mind turning the radio up just a little?”
She nodded and fidgeted with a small device behind her, turning a round dial on the object’s surface. The battered old machine looked more like an old boombox than a radio player, but soon enough, music filtered through it, filling the room with its dulcet tones.
“Oh yeah,” I said, recognizing the tune immediately. “Rick Astley. One of my all-time faves.”
Hey, I liked him before he became a meme, okay? Don’t judge.
“All right, Sevin,” I said, facing him. “What’s going to be on next?”
Frenchie stroked his goatee a few more times and looked lost in thought, then he stared straight at me with blank eyes that had gone milky white. I took a half step backward in shock, almost knocking into a nearby stool and losing my balance.
Then it was over, and his normal brown irises were back.
“Wild Wild West,” he said with an air of confidence.
I grimaced. “Ooh, not a good choice. There’s no way they’ll play Escape Club immediately following our idol Rick Astley. But we’ll see if you’re right.”
A moment later, Rick’s song came to its glorious end and there was radio silence. No one spoke. The whole room seemed eager to see this one play out. Then, without warning, the distinct sound of a gunshot rang out from the tiny speakers, followed by a swanky drum beat and a guitar solo.
I nodded and slapped Sevin on the back again. “Well, done, my man! I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“‘Tis a gift, mon ami,” he said, bowing slightly as Hank also looked in his direction, nodding appreciatively.
“Pfft,” another voice blurted out.
It was Isaiah, holding a cell phone in his hands and pointing to it. Isaiah was an actual, full-fledged magician that could cast real spells and stuff. A talent I’d always envied a bit, to be perfectly honest. Anything was better than my dull, boring life.
“I can do that, too, genius,” Isaiah continued. “It’s called a ‘playlist.’”
My eyes squinted to make out what was on the cell phone’s screen from several feet away. Slowly, it came into focus. There at the top in big, bold letters was “98.4 The Click! Best hits of the 80s.” And below that were a series of tiny words and numbers, which I could only guess was their playlist for the day.
The whole room erupted into laughter at Sevin’s expense and I turned to look at him, pity in my eyes. His face was even redder than before, and his lips had disappeared into the collar of his polo.
“Non, monsieur,” he retorted. “I did it without ze playlist.”
But no one seemed to even hear him over the raucous laughter, so he buried his face in his shirt even further.
“Is okay, friend,” a voice from behind him boomed a moment later. Yuri, a tall, slender Russian man, walked over to him and patted him on the shoulder.
“Can’t win them all, but next time, no?” he said in slightly broken English. He gave Sevin another pat, then sauntered on over to the bathroom, leaving his drink unattended.
Unlike Sevin, Yuri was full-on Russian. He’d only moved into the Washington area a few months ago looking for work after the recent food shortages in his home country had threatened his livelihood.
I wasn’t quite sure what Yuri did, either, but I wasn’t too keen on asking. The guy had a rather gruff attitude most of the time, which felt kind of intimidating.
I gave Sevin one last grin, then turned my attention back to Mei and settled down on a barstool, where I figured I’d spend the next few hours of my life.
“What’ll it be, stranger?” Mei asked when the commotion finally died down. “Your usual?”
My parched lips cracked upward. “Absolutely.”
I took in her sight for another moment, reveling in it. She was wearing silky black top and matching trousers, with regular, comfortable looking shoes on her feet, ideal for standing hours on end. She really was quite beautiful.
“You know, they don’t make a good Manhattan in Ireland. I had to settle for stale beer.”
She reared her head back slightly. “Ireland, eh? And what did you get up to there?”
I patted my new weapon that was strapped to my back. You might think it odd to come armed to my friend’s bar, but I guarantee you everyone else here had at least three weapons on them, Mei included. The magic areas of town could be dangerous business to the ill-prepared.
“This beauty,” I said. I turned so she could see the burnished bronze hilt in all its glory. “It’s called Grax’thor, Hope Render.”
“Ooh,” she let out. “Nifty.” She paused a moment while she mixed together whiskey, vermouth, and bitters, giving them a shake.
My dry mouth ached as I watched her work. I could almost taste my drink, and I hadn’t even gotten it yet. Her Manhattans really were that good.
“So what does this ‘Grax’thor’ of yours do, exactly?”
I grinned at her. “It’s a cursed sword, of course. It’s said to bring whoever wields it terrible bad luck.”
Hank scrunched his nose. “Why in hell would you want that thing if it’s cursed?” he blurted out, eyes crossed.
I put my hands on my hips and turned to face him. “To counteract my good luck, of course,” I winked. “Why else?”
Hank shrugged and shook his head a few times, then went back to nursing his drink, muttering something I didn’t catch. The big man had never quite understood my obsession with ending my own existence. I could respect that about him, but in fairness, he hadn’t lived nearly as long as I had, either.
Mei kept talking. “So, do you think it’ll really work?”
“Yeah?”
She finished shaking the contents of my drink and poured them into a chilled martini glass that had a twist of orange in it. The orange peel swirled around in the liquid in a slow, intoxicating pattern.
My mouth watered even more. Finally, Mei shoved the glass into my hands. I snatched the base greedily and pulled it toward me, but Mei’s hand grabbed mine first, stopping me.
“You gonna pay for it this time?” she asked.
I lowered my eyes in shame and hurt. “Come on, Mei, you know I’m good for it.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s what you said before this last trip of yours, too, but you still have a hundred dollar tab open.”
I bit my lip and retracted my hand. She did have a point. I was behind on my bills a lot, and Mei kept pumping out the drinks anyway. Just like a good friend would.
“Hang on a second.” I rummaged around in my back pocket and pulled out a couple crumpled bills. There were two twenties and a fifty. I felt around in the other pocket and dropped a couple coins on the table. They were euros, but with the exchange rate, they should about cover the other ten dollars of the tab.
“There,” I said. “My tab is paid in full. Now can I have a new one, pretty please?” I shot her a toothy grin and batted my eyes.
She picked up the bills and smoothed them out, then snatched up the coins and counted. She gave me a sideways glance, then finally her face softened.
“All right, you know I can never say no to you.” She shook her head and pushed the drink toward me. “Go ahead.”
“That’s my girl!” I said, grinning like a madman.
I lifted the glass to my lips and inhaled. The scent alone was intoxicating. Greedily, I took a sip. The icy beverage flowed over my parched tongue, tickling my senses and rejuvenating my soul.
It was heaven.
“You must put crack in these things to keep me coming back,” I told her.
Mei shrugged. “Pretty sure the alcohol’s enough to do that on its own.”
Couldn’t argue with that one. I took another drink, almost draining half of it in one go, then set it back down.
“So Mr. Adventurer,” Mei started. “Why the Ramones?” She pointed at my t-shirt and jabbed me in the chest with her bony finger. “Not into Duran Duran anymore?”
My expression soured. “Oh, that.” I lowered my gaze. “It happened in Ireland. ‘Twas part of the hefty price I had to pay to win this beauty of a weapon.” I shrugged. “Ramones was all I could find in a hurry, but at least I got it on the cheap.”
She softly shook her head and giggled. “Well, why don’t you tell us all about your trip, then? What was Ireland like?”
I grinned at her and took in a deep breath. This was going to be a long take. I told her all about my search for the sword and the harrowing near-misses that happened afterward, leaving no detail out. At regular intervals, I accentuated the tale by waving my arms about to recreate the excitement. By the end of the story, the whole room was listening in, hanging on my every word.
“And that’s when I came back here,” I said, ending the story.
“Tch. A skeleton army?” Hank asked, looking at me cross-eyed again.
I puffed my chest up. “Indeed. A whole army of skeletons. I fended them all off with one hand tied behind my back.”
He snorted. “Probably tripped on an old bone and fell flat on your face, more like.”
The room burst out laughing again, this time at my expense. I felt heat rise to my cheeks for a moment, then I joined in. I had embellished a few of the details. I supposed I deserved it. Besides, it was all in good fun, right?
A few minutes later, the room died down again, and I polished off my Manhattan. I set the glass down and patted my stomach for a moment, slumping against my chair, when lo and behold, another Manhattan appeared to take the first one’s place.
I sat up straight and shot Mei a curious glance.
“On the house,” she said, shrugging. “Consider it payment for the entertainment you just provided.” She gave me a smirk.
I grinned back at her and accepted the drink, taking a sip of it right away. Who was I to turn down a free drink?
Moments later, that glass, too, was empty, and I set it down, feeling satisfied for a moment as a slight buzz started to kick in, muting everything and filling me with a rosy glow.
I looked around and noticed that Hank, Sally, and Isaiah had left, turning in early for the night. I thought about joining them, but I needed about one more drink first. Alcohol could still affect me, if not as much as it did a normal person, but I needed a good amount before I could fall into a deep, cozy sleep back home.
Besides, something was gnawing at the back of my mind. I’d been gone a while now, and Mei had yet to even mention the little side operation I’d sent her on in the interim. Was she waiting for everyone else to leave?
I, for one, wasn’t patient enough to find out.
“Hey, Mei,” I said in a somewhat hushed tone, turning my attention back to her.
She leaned in a little closer to me and set down the glass she’d been polishing. “Yeah?”
“I don’t suppose you’ve found out anything? You know, about how to end my immortality and all?” If anyone could figure out how to end my curse, it’d be a dragon. They’re so steeped in the old magic, they’d practically have to know.
Her expression soured and she grimaced as she put a finger to her lips. “I tried, Damian, really I did. But…”
I shushed her. “It’s okay. I know you tried your hardest,” I said, nodding slightly. “It was a longshot of a longshot. No one’s ever been able to give me some ray of hope.” I slumped back into the chair again, shaking my head and sighing. “I suppose it’s too much to ask for, now that the god who granted it in the first place is no more.”
My mind went back to that fateful day in the mid-1720s. It was a long, sordid tale. Maybe one day, I’ll share the whole thing with someone, but suffice it to say my family, starting with my mother on down, had been granted immortality as a gift by one of the gods looking over our clan. My mom had done the god some great favor, and he’d considered it to be the least he could do to repay her.
The other members of my family didn’t seem to mind it as much as I did. But then, I’d never really gotten along with most of them.
Mei opened her mouth again and took in a deep breath, then shut it without saying anything.
I glared at her. “What is it?”
“Well,” she said slowly, “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but there is this one possibility.”
My ears perked up at that and I sat up straight in my chair. “Oh? Do tell. Please.”
Her eyes took on a worried look. “You’ve got to understand, this is a serious longshot. It probably won’t pan out. And your family will be pissed.”
I nodded. “That’s okay. I’ve gone ahead with worse information before.” It was true. My acquisition of Grax’thor was living proof of that.
She lowered her head a bit and her tone dropped into a whisper. “You must promise not to tell anyone what I’m about to tell you,” she said, holding my gaze in the most serious look she’d ever given me.
The whole thing was enough to make me second guess myself. I gulped down a knot of fear that was welling in my throat. In all our years together, I’d never seen her look anything like this. Whatever she was about to relate, it must have cost her dearly.
“Go on,” I said with a nod. “My lips are sealed.” I made a closing motion over my mouth with my free hand.
“Hey, Mei!” a voice broke through at that moment. It was Yuri. “What’s a guy to do to get a refill, ya?”
Mei shook her head slightly and pulled back. She glowered at Yuri for a second, then flashed him a smile.
“Be back in a
sec,” she told me over her shoulder.
I flashed her another smile. “No worries. Need to hit the pisser anyway.” I eased up from my stool and headed over toward the bathroom while Mei got about fixing whatever drink it was that Yuri wanted.
I flung open the bathroom door and wiggle-walked inside, barely able to hold it. Those drinks went through me pretty quickly sometimes.
Contrary to what you might think, the men’s room at Mei’s bar was actually quite neat and tidy. There was an ocean theme throughout the room, with shell tiles on the floors and pictures of waves and aquatic life plastered on the walls. It even smelled a little beachy, which was a far cry better than the stale urine stench of most public restrooms.
I went over to a urinal and did my business. I won’t bore you with those details. You probably know how a bathroom works by now, and if not, then you really shouldn’t be listening to this story in the first place.
Anyway, I washed my hands and dried them on a neat little folded paper towel and waltzed back into Mei’s bar proper.
Instantly, I could sense something was off. The music from the radio was no longer playing, and the faint smell of sage and dragon’s blood was no longer wafting through the air.
My eyes darted around the room as a chill ran down my spine. Yuri was in the corner hunched over his beer. Sevin was next to him, looking like he’d just seen a ghost or something worse, and there was a slight draft coming from one of the corners of the room.
Then, it hit me all at once. I took in the sight of shattered glass, mixed with a damp towel in the middle of the bar with no one there to tend to it.
Instantly, my heart sank and a chill ran over me as I stood there, blinking my eyes, not able to process what was in front of me. All the while a single thought reverberated through my skull over and over again.
Mei was gone.
3
“Yuri! Sevin!” I shouted, rousing the two from whatever funk they’d gotten themselves into. “What happened? Where’s Mei?”
The big Russian got up first. He shrugged his broad shoulders and held his hands out, palms spread wide. “Is no big deal,” he said. “Maybe she had to tinkle?”
