I suppose part of the reason we’re all so happy is the fact that we were able to see all there is to see in Sinsity—thanks to Garan—without stress. We weren’t running in fear of our lives as we have been. Instead we were able to explore at a leisurely pace, something I’m completely unaccustomed to. The experience would have been better if I didn’t have Volac clawing at the back of my brain. Like the talons of a beast, the way he gawked at Reyna stretches and scratches at my mind. With roughly a dozen half-dressed women bowed at his feet in total submission, why would he need Reyna? Why did he look at her as though she was not just the last woman in the world but the only woman in the world? The burn of hot tendrils of jealousy coiling about inside of me is a feeling I’m unfamiliar with. Up until now, I’ve felt protective of Reyna. But now it’s something more. So much more. Volac’s eyes raking over her as though she were undressed riles me to the brink of madness. I feel my neck heat, blazing a path to my cheeks as I ball my hands into tight fists. Reyna, Aaron, Pike, Xan and Micah continue to chat, but I notice Garan watching me. He looks from my clenched hands to my flushed face and his expression clouds. His eyes narrow and he clips his chin my way as if to ask, “What’s up? What’s got you so mad?” Caught simmering, I quickly relax my hands and take a deep breath. I smile and shake my head. The smile if forced, of course, and wooden, but it’s the best I can do at the moment. Garan eyes me suspiciously. “You need a drink,” he says to me first. Then to the rest of the group in a louder voice, he says. “Let’s get a drink.”
Pike looks down at the bottle he carries. “I still have some water left.”
“Me, too.” Micah holds up his container.
“No.” Garan shakes his head. “A real drink.”
Puzzled, Xan points to Micah’s bottle. “Water isn’t a real drink?” Confusion saturates his tone.
“Well, yes, water is a real drink. But that’s not what I’m talking about,” Garan explains. “I’m talking about a drink-drink.”
“So water is a real drink, but there’s a realer drink called a drink-drink?” Xan scratches his head and his brows are knit. “You have to say drink twice?”
“No, no, that’s not what I mean.” Garan pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s a different kind of drink.”
“Is anyone else as confused as I am right now?” Xan looks around our group. Nods, as well as the word “yes” muttered confirm that we don’t understand what Garan is talking about. “Good. It’s not just me. I thought maybe all the sun and heat today scrambled my brain.” Xan rubs his forehead.
“Nah, it didn’t scramble your brain. There wasn’t much there to work with to begin with.” Micah smiles impishly, showing all of his front teeth.
“I’m smarter than you are.” Xan gives Micah a playful shove. “And I have a much better smile. When you smile you look crazy.”
“I do not! I’ve been told I have a nice smile!” Micah says with exaggerated upset.
“Whoever told you that was lying.” Xan raises both brows and bobs his head.
“Okay, now I really need a drink.” Garan raises his voice above Xan and Micah’s bickering. “Let’s go. Follow me.” He turns and waves at us to follow.
“But we’re so close to Nate’s and to our rooms. And I don’t know about you but I’m beat—” Aaron starts but Garan cuts him off.
“Never mind how close we are to our rooms or how beat you are. Just come on. It’s not that far from here,” Garan insists.
“My leg is a little weaker from walking all day, but I’m curious to see what all this is about,” Kai whispers.
“You okay?” I ask. “A healing gunshot wound is as good a reason as any to go back to the room and rest. I’ll tell Garan if you want.”
“No, no. That’s not necessary. I’m fine.” Kai looks left then right to be sure no one is listening in on out conversation. “Besides, I gotta see what all the fuss is for. Garan really made a big deal about this whole drink thing. Now I have to know why.”
“I understand. I kind of feel the same way.” I slide Kai a sidelong glance and smile. He grins back at me,
We do not walk long when Garan stops us outside of a building with a sign that reads “Fat Sal’s”.
“What is this place?” Ara reads the sign then turns to Garan.
“It’s a tavern,” he replies.
“A tavern?” She repeats the word. “What’s that?”
“You’ll see,” Garan says. He smiles, clearly determined to not get sucked into a long explanation that’ll get questioned by every single one of us. Instead, he grips the door handle, turns it and pulls it toward him. A rush of air greets us. Mildly sour and completely unfamiliar to me, the scents remind me of wet leaves and grass after rain, only with the dampness replaced by another, foreign smell. We step over the threshold and find a small, dimly-lit space packed with humans and Urthmen. Some sit grouped around small, wooden tables while others sit or stand along a long plank of wood polished to a high shine. Constant chatter is interrupted by intermittent roars of laughter or shouting. “Wanna get a table or sit at the bar?” Garan elbows me and talks directly into my ear, above the noise.
I scan the room. “The bar is…?”
“There.” Garan points to the counter people are lined along.
“Either is fine,” I reply. I immediately notice that everyone holds a drink of some kind. Most have glasses filled with a gold fluid I’ve never seen before. Some hold a glass in one hand and thin, stick-like lengths of paper in the other that are lit at the tip and stink like burning animal droppings. I fan my hand in front of my nose to ward off the stench as a man sucks on the stick so hard his cheeks collapse in on themselves then blows a cloud of smoke from his mouth. The foul air burns my eyes and irritates my throat. I hack and cough and wonder why he—or anyone—would have such a thing in his mouth.
“Ugh, gross,” Reyna says before a fit of coughing overtakes her. “What is this place?”
“Garan says it’s a Tavern.” I shrug and scan the room. Through the haze of smoke, I can see that most people here have a bleary-eyed look about them. That, and a general sense of misery. Though there’s laughter here and there and lively conversations abound, a gloomy undertone clings like scum on a pond.
“It’s nasty.” Reyna’s words echo exactly what I think.
Garan leaves us, huddled in the middle of the crowded room, and walks to the bar
An enormous man with layers of fat dripping from under his chin, neck, arms, and stomach—the only part of him that’s visible from where I stand—greets Garan. “Garan! You’re back!” his voice sounds like an old man’s.
“Hey, Fat Sal! How are you?” Garan thrusts his hand forward. Fat Sal clasps it in his own and pumps it enthusiastically.
“Good, my friend! Nice to see you back. What can I get you?” Fat Sal asks.
“Seven beers, please.” Garan reaches for his waist pack. Sal sets about waddling to get seven glasses and filling them with amber fluid. He lines them up on the counter. Garan places bills on the counter and instructs Sal to keep the change. Sal smiles at this and points a stubby finger at him. Garan passes out the glasses to all but Ara and Pike. “Sorry, guys,” he says to them. “You’re a little young for these.”
“For a yellow drink?” Pike asks.
“For this one, yes.” Garan nods. He raises his glass to his mouth and gulps. “Ahh,” he says and smiles. “Try it.” He nods toward me, his eyes on the drink in my hand.
I lift the glass to my lips, eyeing the odd layer of froth coating the top. Tipping it, the liquid bubbles on my tongue. Bitter and with an unusual spice to it, it burns my nasal passages. I swallow quickly, the tang of it overwhelming. “Bleh,” I say. “What is this?”
“It’s beer.” Garan takes another swig.
“It’s awful.” I curl my upper lip in revulsion.
“Keep drinking. It gets better. You’ll get used to it,” Garan orders me.
I glance at Aaron. His features are scrunched and he looks lik
e he might gag. Kai isn’t faring much better either. Xan and Micah, however, take long swigs, and although they dip their brows and frown, their faces go through a range of expressions that end with Xan saying, “Mmm, this is good.”
“Really? Good? You looked like you were going to throw up there for a minute,” Reyna ribs him.
“Nah.” Xan swats the air with his hand. “Well, maybe.” He shrugs. “But it’s like Garan said. Once you get over the initial sour taste and then the aftertaste it’s pretty good.”
“So it has a bad taste at first and an aftertaste?” Reyna looks at the tawny fluid skeptically. “No thanks.”
“Oh no! You’re not getting off that easy! You have to try it!” Xan goads with a smirk.
Reyna shakes her head. “Sorry. Not gonna work, Xan.” She quirks a brow. “But if you like it so much, finish yours and you can have mine, too.”
Xan’s smile sags. He looks at his beer.
“Come on. What’re you waiting for?” Micah turns to Xan and says.
“If you like it so much, why don’t you have it?” Xan replies.
“I couldn’t. It was offered to you.” Micah flashes a toothy grin.
Xan makes a fist at him then chugs the remainder of his drink. “Argh! Woo!” He makes a face and sticks out his tongue. “Yeah. That was…”
“Here you go!” Reyna hands him hers. “You look like you’re ready for this.” She smiles sweetly.
Xan looks sickened at the sight of the full glass.
“Haha! You okay there, Xan?” Kai asks and claps him on the back with a massive hand.
“I’m fine,” Xan answers. But I notice that his eyes are a bit glassier than usual and his cheeks are flushed. “Just feeling a little warm. Is anyone else hot?”
Aaron takes a small sip. “Meh, a little.”
“I’m fine,” Ara replies. “It smells like burning dirt and sweat in here but I’m fine.”
“Me, too,” Pike agrees. “And you’re right. It smells gross in here.”
Garan, nearly done with his drink looks from my glass to me. “I bought it so you’re drinking it, friend.” He offers a jaunty smile.
Feeling obligated, I take a drink. I try to flatten the back of my tongue to minimize the time I have to actually taste the fizzy liquid. This second gulp is slightly less offensive than the first.
“See, it’s not that bad, right?” Garan bobs his head.
I shrug noncommittally.
“Take another,” Garan rolls his hand forward, as if the act will make it happen faster.
Reluctantly, I oblige. I take a long drink. The foam remains on my upper lip as the beer burns down my throat. Within moments, an odd warmth fills me. My muscles feel relaxed, and a confused emotion bordering on happiness swirls within me. I look at Kai. He grins goofily. So does Xan. Micah is engaged in an animated conversation with Aaron about the night’s sunset. Pike and Ara talk to Reyna, looking my way from time to time. I nod toward them. Reyna shakes her head at me and smiles. My cheeks heat further and the warmth and happiness eddying about inside of me multiplies. When Reyna resumes her attention to my brother and sister, I still feel the weight of eyes on me. I scan the bar, looking beyond our group until I find the source. A man at the counter stares at me. His face is all hard lines and sharp planes. Long, black hair and a long, black beard frame ashy skin and dark eyes. A high-crowned, wide-brimmed, black hat sits atop his head and he wears a long black coat. A belt sits at his waist, sheathing a pair of daggers on either side. I sip my drink, feeling the strange, conflicting combination of giddiness and relaxation intensify. I ignore the man. Instead, I join Ara, Reyna and Pike’s conversation, laughing along with them as they mock Xan, who continues to talk with a wide, lopsided smile. But a sudden clamor at the door steals my attention. Loud voices call out and I watch as a three men, all with smooth heads, bare chests and black drawings on their skin, cross the room. They carve a path through the crowd, heading straight toward us.
Muscles stiffening, the edge of worry that travels with me like a dark passenger, blurred up until now, returns. Eyes trained on Reyna, they’re upon us in seconds.
“What’s your name?” the one closest to her demands. He stabs a finger on her direction.
Garan steps forward, placing his body between Reyna and the man asking. “This is Reyna,” he says flatly. “She’s married to Lucas here.” Garan gestures to me.
“You’re Lucas?” The man points to me.
“I am.” My eyes lock on his defiantly. “And who might you be?”
The man smiles to reveal small, brown teeth. “Trust me, you don’t want to know who I am,” he warns. He continues to stare at me, his eyes attempting to bore a hole in my head it seems. I don’t dare look away. After several beats, he licks his front teeth. “So, Lucas, you’re Reyna’s husband?” I watch as he rakes his eyes up and down her body and feel rage coil tightly.
“Yes, I am,” I reply clearly without hesitation.
His eyes linger on her then return to me. He studies me a few more moments then says, “Alright then.” He and the other two surround me. They glare at me, arms folded across their puffed-out chests. The energy around me shifts. Charged with tension rather than enjoyment, the atmosphere thickens. Pike, Ara, Xan, Micah, Kai and Aaron have stopped laughing and talking. I see Reyna in my periphery. They’re undoubtedly watching what’s happening, preparing to act. At any given second, I expect a fight. But something else happens. Something stunning. They all turn on their heels and leave unexpectedly.
“What was that all about?” Xan asks. I barely hear him over the roar of blood behind my eardrums.
Ignoring him, I turn to face Garan. “Why’d you say Reyna and I are married?”
“I saw the way Volac was looking at her this morning.” I’m not sure who Garan is addressing, me or Xan. Or all of us. “It’s not a coincidence that they showed up. He sent them. Volac wants her.”
His words are a noose around my neck, strangling a reply from me. Words lodged somewhere in the vicinity of my gut, where rage is wound as tight as a snake ready to strike. All I want to do is find Volac and tear him limb from limb. He sent men to collect Reyna like she’s what? Property over which we’d negotiate? Barter for? Fight each other for? She’s a person! A thinking, feeling human being, who makes decisions for herself.
“What?” Ara gapes.
“What was with telling them she’s Lucas’s wife?” Xan asks.
“It made them back off,” Pike answers.
“Or it was the fact that they were outnumbered and knew we’d slaughter them?” Xan flexes his biceps, posing so they resemble ball-like mounds of flesh.
“Pike’s right. There are laws in Sinsity and not even he can go after another man’s wife,” Garan says.
I exchange worried glances with Reyna. I understand what Garan means. She appears to also. Still a chill races up my spine. Any and all warmth, relaxation or joy from the beer leaches from me. Volac wants Reyna. He has ten wives and wants her as number eleven. To add to the collection of half-dressed, servile women he keeps. Bile burns up the back of my throat at the thought of Reyna being in the same room as him, much less bowed at his feet.
I’m about to spew every venomous thought I have about where Volac can stick his idea of adding Reyna to his set of wives when I see a young man, around Pike’s age, stumbling around across the bar. He accidentally bumps into the man who wears the black hat and long black coat. The man’s full beer sloshes in the glass from the minor impact. Still, some of it spills. Whirling and opening his coat, the man places both hands on his daggers. “Draw you blade now, boy!” he shouts.
“What the heck is going on?” I hear myself say.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you. Please, Mr. Ryker, I-I’m sorry,” the young man’s voice cracks as he pleads for peace.
“Draw you blade, boy! I’m not askin’ again!” Ryker demands.
“Garan, what is this? What’s going on?” I ask again. A force within me compe
ls me to act now, to act on behalf of the boy.
“No, please,” the boy begs.
“If you don’t draw now, I’ll kill you where you stand!” Ryker rises to his feet. The boy’s shoulders curl, cowering to a man who’s easily twenty years his senior.
“We’ve got to do something.” I look at Garan. His eyes are fixed on the drink in his hand. Realizing he’s unwilling to help, I decide I will. “I’m stopping this,” I say and begin moving toward Ryker and the boy.
As I shoulder past the people, packed tightly in this tiny bar, I see the boy fumble as he clumsily reaches for the blade sheathed at his hip. Ryker doesn’t waste a second. His movements are lightning fast. He pulls both blades free and buries them in the boy’s chest before the child is even fully turned and facing him. My feet stop moving. The boy’s blade falls, landing with a clang. Eyes wide and with a growing crimson stain saturating his shirt, he mumbles words that are inaudible then collapses. Ryker watches life escape him, his eyes never leaving the boy as he drops to the floor.
I turn and look over my shoulder at Garan before I make my way toward the fray once again. A firm hand grips my upper arm, yanking me back. I spin with my fist cocked, ready to launch it forward when I see it’s Garan who has me. He looks past me, his eyes scanning the people around me. Lowering his voice, he says, “Calm down and come back to the group.”
“What? No way!” I jerk my arm free.
“Lucas, trust me. You need to mind your business,” Garan’s voice is at my back. “All of us need to mind our business. That’s the only way to survive in Sinsity.” I turn halfway. “Ara, Pike, Reyna…all of us have to stay safe here.” I face him. Glinting in the depths of his ebony eyes is the truth. He’s right. The only way to keep the people I love safe is to keep my mouth shut and my eyes open. I need to worry about us—just us. But deep down, in the cavernous hollows of my being, I know that’s not who I am. I realize I might not survive Sinsity.
Chapter 14
The tolling of a bell echoes through the room and feels as if it’s rattling my brain. I sit up, groggy and lightheaded and feeling as if my skull is being drilled from the inside out. Pike is in bed beside me, already awake and looking at me strangely. My eyelids flutter against the brightness of the room. I can’t quite focus on him. Or Ara and Reyna, who also watch me.
Sin City Page 14
