“Twenty-eight barrels of whiskey on the wall...”Norm sang, laughing as he pointed his own hand at a barrel, lifting it with ease.Water danced around it, glowing shades of teal and blue and he grinned with delight as he shrunk it.
“Take one down and pass it around,” Desmond said, plucking it off the ground and tossing it in the air before popping it into his shirt pocket.
“Twenty-seven barrels of whiskey left to transfig,” I said, focusing my fire once more.
After we’d managed to transfigure all thirty barrels of moon-blessed whiskey, I was feeling good.Almost as if somehow I’d leeched the alcohol straight from the barrel.
“That was so cool!”Norm said as we barreled out of the cellar.
“That definitely deserves a drink,” I said.
Desmond smiled.“Perhaps this round can be yours, then.”
I felt too good to argue.
“Perhaps.I do owe you an apology,” I said as we rounded the bar.No sign of the girls yet, but I figured with it nearing late afternoon, if we wanted to be back in time for dinner, surely, they’d arrive soon.
Violet was, if anything, punctual.I knew she’d steer them all back in due time from wherever it was they were.The town was not that big to begin with.
I ordered us three pints and took a seat at the bar itself, between Norman and Desmond.
The prince looked around, taking in the sight.
“What?”
“I have never been to a bar before,” he murmured.“Are they all like this?”
Norman chuckled.“If by this, you mean, packed, loud and fun as hell, then yes.”
I rolled my eyes.“No, they are notalllike this.Some are much quieter.”
“I like the noise,” Desmond said as someone took to the stage.The sounds of screeching and off-key singing filled the air and Norman covered his ears with his tentacles.
“Oh goddess, make it stop,” he murmured.
I laughed.“Not a siren, apparently.”The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Norm looked up at me with a frown.
“I’m sorry, I?—”
“No, it’s fine, Bane.I?—”
The bartender dropped off our pints and I sipped the foam.Quickly.
“You and Wanda...are you...”Desmond spoke carefully.“You are notwithher, are you?”
Norman shook his head.“No.Not anymore.”He took a long sip of his pint.
“Who did she leave you for?”I asked before I could think twice.
Norman did not look at us.He only watched the woman on the stage who was now finishing her awful rendition of Sweet Caroline.
“That’s the thing,” he said.“I could have dealt with it if there was someone else.I mean, we swam with plenty of people, but...”His eyebrows furrowed as he traced his fingers along the wood grain of the banister.“I asked if there was someone else and she told me no.”
“You think she was lying?”Desmond asked, his voice concerned.
“Wanda’s not a liar,” I said.“She’s a lot of things, don’t get me wrong, but—” I pressed the rim of my drink to my lips.“She doesn’t lie about anything, especially sex.”
