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I fully expect him to weasel out of answering. He surprises me for the second time tonight. “Suppose you’re in a fortress under siege. There are enemy soldiers at every door, but they cannot come in. Who wins?”
Valina would have a ready answer. She might even have been in that exact situation once or twice. I just shrug.
“The side who’s fed, has fresh water, and more importantly, hope.”
I can agree with that. “Do you expect to be under siege soon?”
The craft halts, and this time, Reiks is satisfied. “Always, feather.” He opens the door and slides out before offering me a hand.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
THE BARGAIN
The club’s between the center of Magnapolis and a wealthy outlying neighborhood known for its younger residents. A number of students of Five not inclined to put up with the dorms have claimed the Silver Quarter.
The building looks like a handsome, stately home, with dark gray tiles and a black roof. The two large gray doors we walk to are meticulously carved and brushed with silver foil. Inside, it’s another world.
All the windows are sealed shut and the only dim illumination comes from weak lights along the floor and one round full-moon like ball suspended from the high ceiling. There’s an open floor swarming with bodies, and along the walls, designer booths crafted to resemble crescents.
I spot the bar, at the very end of the open space. One of the professionals attending them shakes a cocktail, throwing his tool in the air seamlessly before catching it and pouring a purple drink into a glass. “What are you drinking? I’ll fight through the sea of sharks and bring you something back. You should socialize.”
With an easy chuckle, Reiks hooks his arm under mine. “Oh, no, feather, you’re not abandoning me.”
“But I want a drink,” I pout.
Unless I ingest copious amounts, alcohol doesn’t have much effect on me, so I don’t drink for the sake of it. That said, I’m not one to say no to a delicious cocktail.
Reiks raises a hand and almost immediately, one tall woman dressed in a short black dress appears. “Your Highness. A pleasure to have your business, as always.”
“You’re welcome, Triva. I’ll have a cloud, and Alis will be drinking…”
I expect him to order for me, but he looks at me for answer. “Something sweet and sharp, please.”
Triva’s the consummate professional. “I recommend the Luna Season, in that case. It’s citrusy, with hints of red fruit. Or, if I may be so bold, we’re serving the Revel today—a specialty made with bilberries to celebrate Lughnasadh."
“A Revel, then, thank you.”
She inclines her head and disappears, swallowed up by the crowd. “I feel bad that she’s braving the swarm for us.”
“Don’t. Triva owns the club. She’s very well compensated for her effort, trust me.”
A deep beat rumbles under my feet, low enough so that we don’t need to shout, yet strong enough to make the floor vibrate like a pulse. I like the energy here, though I’d certainly prefer the place less crowded.
Reiks leads us forward. At the first step we take, the crowd parts to give us room. “Finigan!” he says, hitting some short, handsome guy close to us on the shoulder. “It’s been too long. How’s the fishing market?”
“Floating,” the boy replies.
The joke’s so bad Mar would have given him a tail and fins for the affront, but Reiks laughs easily. “You’ve met my Alis?”
His. I manage not to roll my eyes.
Finigan looks at me with a frown, visibly trying to place me. “I don’t think so. We might have come across each other…”
We might. I can’t remember him either, so I don’t blame him. If he’s seen me, it’s probably in the company of my cousins. “Perhaps at Five?” I suggest.
“Finigan is a brilliant businessman. He took over for his uncle, running the entire Fresh Catch company by himself since he was nineteen. He’s too busy for school. Perhaps you’ve met in your northern travels. Your boats still cross Vanemir, still, right?”
"Of course. Mainland Vanemir’s the best way to reach Ravelyn and come back to the continent. We’ve lost too many ships sailing along the Darklands.” He shivers and his voice drops. “It’s too close to the eternal realms.”
