Young Writers Society

I downed my drink as well, the unfamiliar liquid burning my throat. I had admittedly tried to get my hands on some alcohol before, but Nathaniel and Asmira - neither believing my story - hadn't ever let me get some. They both thought I was younger than them, which was honestly one of the most insulting things they had ever told me.

But the point was that I had never really had it before, so I wasn't really prepared for the taste.

Still, I somehow managed to keep my cool. I didn't draw too much attention to myself as I gagged a little, and I quickly turned back to Megara so I could hide my reaction with our conversation.

"I don't know," I said, exasperated. Then I paused and thought it over again. I did know, but just not in the way Megara was probably hoping for. "...Actually, I was trying to get to a different world, but what I was using to get there brought me here instead."

Her expression flickered between amused and annoyed as she took in his reaction to the alcohol. He'd tried to hide it, but he hadn't done so very well. She took a swig of her own drink, experiencing none of the adverse effects that Skull was pretending not to be dealing with.

"So you've accidentally interrupted my life? At least, the first time was most likely accidental, but I imagine you didn't come across me here quite to coincidentally?"

She would have to get rid of him, sooner than later if she didn't want to have to come up with an explanation for her father.

That thought made her lookover Skull once more, a well-hidden burst of panic flaring up in her chest. She was a good liar when she had to be, and the lies she told about where, exactly, she was when she'd been dragged away to the steam-powered hellscape wouldn't exactly hold up if Skull opened his big mouth where one of the ever-present spies could hear him.

A problem for later, she said to herself, unconvincingly. She had no way of knowing if any of the patrons, or the bartender, were having their pockets lined by her father.

She kept her cool and stared into her drink, downed the rest of it, and ordered another.

"The dance was accidental," I admitted. "I just ended up in the castle, so I played along."

I looked down at my drink, swirling the remaining alcohol with a gentle movement of my wrist. "Here, on the other hand, was a little more intentional. I didn't know you were, you know." After a moment of hesitation, I took another swing of my drink. "You were just the first person I met here who actually interacted me, so I was going to keep hanging out with you until I figured out how to get home."

I looked over at her, putting the empty glass down in front of me.

"I followed you to that building," I added, my voice a little quieter than before. "I knew I couldn't follow you inside without you noticing, so I came over here instead. I thought I'd get myself used to the area - you wouldn't happen to know somewhere I could some new clothes, do you?"

She considered him for a second. He couldn't be serious.

"You want me to help you?" The idea was laughable, really. People asked friends for help or friendly acquaintances. People did not ask people they'd followed during a sensitive mission and who wanted to kill them for help.

Not that she was unwilling to give it, she realized. She had a couple of safehouses stocked with clothes of all types and sizes in case she was ever in need of them on a mission with a partner, it wasn't like it would be difficult to take him to one of those. Just risky. If she was spotted bringing an outsider into one of the safehouses, she was as good as dead.

But still. Maybe it was a conversation in the garden that softened her. She would never even think of the idea that she was soft before then.

She could do it.

There was always an excuse.

Maybe she wouldn't be locked up for so long if she gave one.

"Beggars can't be choosers," I said with a shrug, "but you're not my first choice - I'm just asking out of convenience."

I patted my pocket, hearing the coins jingle a little when I did.

"I just need a name of a place to go," I added. "I've got the money part covered. I got some...donations from some people I met on my way over here."

She chuckled. She imagined they might have been friends if things were different.

But they weren't, so here they were.

She sighed, making up her mind, "Alright, I can take you somewhere. If you don't want to spend every last penny you've collected, I'd recommend heading downtown to one of the cheap inns. You'll want me with if you'd like to avoid muggers and such. This isn't exactly the safest of cities."

She wasn't lying. She seemed to be doing a lot of not-lying lately. She wasn't sure that was a good thing.

She wanted to come with me?

I knew that I shouldn't be trusting her. We spent the last time we met at each other's throats. But what had happened this time was clearly in both of our minds still, and something told me there wasn't any evil scheming involved with her idea.

I wasn't going to draw attention to it.

I didn't want to.

"Show me the way," I said, hopping off of my chair and gesturing to the door.

She considered her drink for a second. Might as well not waste it. She downed the rest and headed for the door, "Alright then, follow me."

The temperature had dropped several degrees since they'd entered the bar, and Megara found herself in want of a cloak. She glanced at Skull, her usual solution to such issues crossing her mind - which was to stand nearer her companion for the warmth - before being quickly dismissed. Her little sister wouldn't mind such a request, but she wasn't exactly on the best of terms with him, certainly not good enough to request something like that. Plus, she had something of a reputation with him, maybe it wasn't a good one, but she wasn't fully willing to give it up just yet.

She, instead, kept her distance and focused on hiding her limp. If there was one thing she didn't need right now, it was Skull being the one to discover her disability.

"If you run into anyone else here," she said to him after a pause, "don't let them know you know me."

I fell into step behind her.

"You're just my mysterious dancing partner," I agreed. "Does Ivy have a last name, by the way? You never gave one."

I paused, then added, "Or do you mean completely don't know? If I didn't know you, following you around doesn't make much sense."

"Ivy Greyly. She's just a cover, if you're talking to anyone with half a brain, connections to the palace, or in the employ of my boss, using that name isn't going to help any. All of my bosses employees are well aware of all of my identities, anyone with connections to the palace will know that such a person can't exist, and everyone knows that the name 'Ivy' is reserved for royals. The 'Greyly' family is a mysterious bunch, the idea that there might be a member of that family named 'Ivy' isn't so hard to believe at first glance, and everyone at that party would be too drunk to remember a name like that by morning to do anything but glance at it, so it works for stuff like that."

That material of her gown was too thin for this weather, at least in the sleeves. The bodice had stiffening layers and such to keep the worst of the cold at bay, and the skirt was filled out with petticoats, but her arms were absolutely freezing, and the cold was starting to creep in under her other layers.

"Just pretend to be oblivious and you might not be dead by morning."

"I'm not as easy to kill as you think I am," I said.

But I didn't push it at anymore - I silently agreed with her point. For all intents and purposes, I had no idea who she was - and I would keep that lie up for as long as I had to.

"In pain then," she amended.

It was getting colder the closer they got to Lake Spiro. Megara crossed her arms over her body and tried not to shiver, becoming ever more conscious of her company.

They came to an inn, The Barking Dog, and she led the way into the decrepit indoors. The hinges on the door creaked as they entered, alerting the single conscious individual of their arrival. All around, men and women stretched over the tops of tables, snoring next to half-finished drinks. A few of them had scales surrounding closed gills on their necks.

Megara acknowledged none of them as she walked right up to the counter to speak to the aforementioned wakeful individual.

The man, a portly fellow with an awful snarl seeming to be his resting expression, spoke with exactly the gruff voice one would expect from such a person, "What a surprise," he grumbled, "one of the Councilor's lapdogs. Lemme guess, you want the upper room?"

Megara gave him a smile that was about as friendly as she was, "You know it, Joseph."

"Who's your friend?" the man asked bluntly, sizing Skull up.

Megara gave Skull a look with a clear meaning, keep your mouth shut.

"Doesn't matter to you," she responded, "The key?"

He grunted, and with a look like this was the biggest possible inconvenience he could suffer through, he ducked behind the counter and returned with a bronze key, tied with a red ribbon. He pressed the key into Megara's waiting hand and didn't say so much as one more word before dismissing them with a look and going back to scowling at the walls.

Megara dropped a small pile of gold coins in front of him and his attention turned to them, his scowl morphing into a confused frown.

"For your silence," she explained, then, wasting no more time, she took Skull by the hand and dragged him behind her up the stairs to the room in question, only releasing him to unlock the door.

She gave him an apologetic look, "Sorry. I didn't want him to get the chance to look too closely at you." She gestured for him to enter the room first, "After you."

By some stroke of luck, I had managed to keep my mouth shut when Megara wanted me too. I thought it was a bit convenient that she could admit to knowing me when talking to the guy in charge of the inn, but I didn't question it when we got up to the room.

"I thought I was the shady one," I said, slipping into the room, "but it looks like you have me beat."

She didn't respond, just walked inside and sat down on the bed.

"The closet's stocked," she explained, "you're bound to find your size in there somewhere. You can change in the room over there," she gestured to the doorway on the side of the room, "Don't touch any of the weapons."

After this, she would have to get home. She'd have a physical examination, standard procedure after her first real job since her return, and her injury would be discovered. She was dead in a few hours, maybe longer if her father was feeling merciless.

I lingered by the closet door, glancing over at her as I tried to figure out what felt so off. I had noticed the same tenseness - even if that wasn't the right word - back when we were alone in Jacob's shop.

But I didn't know nearly enough about her to make my guesses.