“Sure, I can help. Meat is your only poison?”
“You got it! No shredded chicken.” She shuddered. Right, her story about being ill. Something about an exorcism? “Chicken” must be a meat found on her home planet.
“I’ve got you covered.”
The wall surrounding the town was speckled with crystals set within the muck and stone, just as I'd remembered. The people of Drifael clearly knew what beasts lived in the mountains of their backyard. On sunny days the fortress glistened like water, reflecting the blue of the forest. Today, the clouds and setting stars muted that spectacular effect as we arrived. I wondered if herbs and blood were mixed in as well. It was hard to tell with the dim light and bumpy texture.
We approached the gate guarded by two Pyrans sheltering under the wooden overhang. “Good evening,” I smiled pleasantly. “Staying dry?”
“More than most days,” the brunette Pyran said, lifting the heavy bar that secured the doors together. “Always a lil’ damp.”
“Doin’ better than us,” I volleyed, naturally adopting his subtle accent as my own. A habit from years of blending in on G.P.O. missions.
The guards used their full weight to push, and the doors groaned open. Warm light and pleasant smells wafted from the entrance as a warm gust blew Vivian’s hair over her shoulders.
Once the opening was big enough for me to fit through, I placed my hand on Vivian’s lower back and encouraged her to step forward. This trip’s socializing was all about simple pleasantries and avoidance. I would keep my encounters as brief as possible. Steer the conversation to the mundane. An easy way to avoid questions.
The streets were mostly sheltered by thatched roofing supported by wooden frames. It wasn’t uncommon for water to break through the straw, but it was better than nothing. The ground went from thick mud to damp dirt as we stepped under the cover. Vivian let out a sigh and paused to ring her hair out in her fists, then used her fingers to ruffle its layers back into place.
We were in the dining sector of Drifael. Housing was kept far from the front gate—just in case something dangerous broke through. Surrounded by restaurants at peak dinner time, the smell of food was overwhelming. I looked down at the goddess, noting the way she wiped a bit of drool from the corner of her mouth with her thumb. I could only imagine how good it must smell to her after surviving in the wilderness this long.
“Dinner, then inn?” I confirmed.
“I will gladly sleep outside if it means we can eat now.”
“I’m sure we can manage to get you both.”
I’d only been to Drifael a handful of times over the years. Twice to kill someone for my old job. Once to collect information on if there may be a field nearby for my own mission. Twice more for the events put into motion by Vivian.
I knew a place that was under the radar, dimly lit, and not too carnivorous.
“This way.” I fought the nagging urge to reach out and grab her hand to direct her.
We followed the path straight ahead, then hung left. The open doorway of Five Silvates was warm and welcoming. The interior was as rustic as the town, its aged wood reminiscent of my pub countertops. I made eye contact with an attendant, then beelined us to a booth in the far back corner, claiming the side that faced the doorway. Vivian shimmied into the dark green bench across from me.
“What can I get you two started with?” The Mercurian waiter asked. Mercurians and Pyrans were the most common species in this part of the world, both originally from the South.
“Calix on the rocks and a glass of vinox, Eastern if you have it.” I took the menus held out to us and passed one to her in the name of normalcy. She could at least pretend to skim through it.
“I’ll go get those for you while you look over the menu.” The server headed for the bar.
“Alright. What’s the cheesiest thing on the menu?” Vivian leaned into the table, peering at my copy instead of hers like it would magically translate to Earth foods within my hands.
“Cheesiest…” I raised a brow.
“Oh god, I don’t know how to fucking describe cheese,” she chortled. “It’s like…melty? Savory? Delicious? Comes from milk?”
That last part made my expression twist. “Milk?”
“Yeah.” She locked eyes with me as we tried to cross the cultural barrier between our worlds. I knew whatmilkwas. But surely it wasn’t the same?
“From… mothers?” I reminded myself not to judge other cultures. In general, I was averyopen-minded guy. I just foundit interesting that this goddess wanted “melty” breastmilk on her food.
“No! I mean… yes? I guess? Maybe?” Her pink cheeks reddened and her tone turned defensive. “Not from humans. Just like…other species…”
My eyebrows arched against my will.
“Fuck. Okay. Forget I said thatplease.” She raised her menu in front of her face to cover her flushed cringe.
