Gadsabera's tavern was as quiet as ever. Compared to other inns and pubs in Feledir, Gadsabera's crowd was of an entirely different breed—unobtrusive, sharp-eyed, quirked lips, hungry pockets. The people here only drank when someone had the intent to buy a drink for them, and the only form of ruckus they made was the hum of lowered tones making even lower deals. This was the place those who did not know went to find those who did—to buy a drink. To buy an answer.

Reide set down his bow and pulled out a chair without a welcome from the bartender, which wasn't surprising considering her heed often required payment of some kind. The woman lounging across the table flicked her gaze up from a set of cards, dry lips pursing.

"Can I offer you a drink?" said Reide. She plucked a card from her hand and twirled it between her fingers.

"Perry or mead?" she hummed.

Perry was a question, mead a task. One was cheaper than the other and Reide struggled to remember which it was. He leaned back casually in his chair, matching the air of the rest of the shadowed tavern and showing the woman across from him he was not new to this business, nor easy to overcharge. "Perry."

For a moment, she judged him and did not make secret of it. Her pale eyes—snakelike, as they all were at this tavern—studied his composure in search of cracks. She needed money, he brought an inquiry. Inquiries brought money.

A slow smile crept upon her mouth. "Perry it is, then. I'll take as many as you purchase."

With a raise of Reide's hand, the bartender answered. A silent minute later, two small glasses clinked on the table and neither party moved to touch them. Instead, they sat forward at the same time as if absorbed in a conversation.

"The curse of immortality," Reide began, tone no more than a husky breath. "What are its origins, and how is it broken?"

Two questions. He could afford that many drinks.

"Immortality?" the woman mused, tapping her nail on the tabletop. "Immortality... there are very few known accounts of immortals, most in legends and folklore. The curse has been broken before, according to one, but"—she lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug—"the way in which it was done is not part of the tale. I could fabricate an end to that story, if you would like?"

Reide's jaw ticked. "I did not pay for fabrications."

"Then don't ask about fairytales, mister." The woman swiped her drink from the space between them and reclined again as she downed it. Her doing so symbolically ended her response to his question.

Reide cursed under his breath and pushed his chair from the table, leaving his own drink abandoned. No refunds, all risks were accepted upon entry. Those were the rules. He paid the bartender on the way out and didn't glance back to see the woman's smirk.

The chaos and ruckus of the streets only caught him for a moment, then Reide was storming off to another place. He didn't know where, or if he would find Andreya there, or if he would find any answers—or if it would even do any good if he did. For all he knew, it could already be too late, he could already have missed her. His breath caught at the thought.

His steps abruptly stuttered at a chorus of shouts down the road. He blinked at the commotion, a green guard's carriage parked on the side of the street and a small crowd gathered. An arrest, it looked like. Probably a common thief. Reide padded down his interest and kept walking as a shopkeeper helped several guards force the struggling shoplifter into the carriage. He spared a glance as the horses kicked forward, caught a single glimpse inside the coach's side window—

He stopped dead at a flash of red and orange.

It raced past and Reide swiveled around, mouth opened silently as it disappeared down the street he had just come from. Was that—?

Was that Andreya?

──── ❉ ❉ ❉ ────

Feledir's jailhouse was not the last place Reide expected to find Andreya Marivatan, but given it had not yet been two hours since she had run off, it certainly was not the first place he expected, either.

Trapped in a grimy prison cell, she looked torn between threatened animal and giving up completely. For Andreya, it was much closer to the former.

Her dark braids jerked up when she did, flashing the man outside her cell a wild snarl before she recognized the kind but unsmiling features of Reide Hafiless. The tension immediately released from her shoulders before she remembered she was mad at him and hid her relief with a scowl.

The guard beside him shuffled through his keys in the semi-light. Small noises echoed off the walls from other prisoners.

"Are you alright?" Reide asked. The guard wrenched the key in the lock and swung the door open.

Andreya wasn't sure what to say. Clearly she wasn't alright—she was furious with him and furious with herself for wanting to see him. Her rightness was precisely why she wasn't alright, because she was still cursed, and still alive.

When she didn't respond, still drawn against the wall like a mad creature, Reide had the audacity to sigh. "We can discuss this further outside, if you would like, or you could stay here in prison. Your choice."

She glared at him a moment longer, then hissed a curse and pushed past the guard into the stone hallway. On their way out, Andreya kept the scowl and never once lifted her eyes from the ground until they had exited the building.

Even in front of the prison, the streets were filled with constant commotion, the afternoon sunlight beating down on them all and circulating the smell of warm bodies, fresh leather, and several types of foodstuffs in the breeze. Reide pulled her along without a word until the crowd thinned and private establishments and houses lined the road in place of businesses.

They came to a stop in front of an unobtrusive little house and Andreya pivoted to face him, undecided on what to say but certain it wasn't going to be "Thank you" or "I forgive you." Before she could open her mouth, though, Reide pressed a finger to her lips in a nonverbal shush. Andreya's gaze shot up at him, this man who had the nerve to shush her. How dare, confounded peasant! You rotten, filthy—

"I'm sorry, Andreya." Her thoughts silenced at once. Looking up at him, she registered his mere proximity, the space between them no longer than her forearm. It felt nonexistent.

He lowered his hand from her mouth. "I was wrong about the spiritist, but fighting won't get us anywhere."

She stared up at him with nothing to say, trapped suddenly in the curve of his Isantadi eyes, in his freckled, tanned complexion and the tawny hair brushing his forehead. Her eyes traveled without consent along the line of his jaw all the way to the small, thin scar above his brow and she stiffened. She had never seen him this closely, and it was somehow affecting her mind.

But she would not forget she was still mad at him. She did not accept his apology. She refused to.

Andreya straightened her shoulders and looked Reide square in his honey-brown eyes. "It was my fault for trusting you to begin with."

It came out harsh and cruelly personal and it took several seconds for him to respond. His mouth pressed into a thin line, then he drew in a breath and tried a half-smile. "Would you like to meet my family?"

"Your family?" She blanked.

"Near the Mixed District," he said. "There are lots of immigrants there who come to visit the capital, lots of knowledge from other places, lots of old friends who know unusual things. Someone there might know how to help."

Andreya continued to blink up at him. She felt suddenly like a child again, returning home to a house full of people instead of an empty mansion. "You want me to meet your family?"

He must have heard her puerile thoughts. His usual, crooked smile edged back to its usual place among his features and he motioned back to the business district they'd come from, where they would find a place to stay for the night. Behind them, the sun sank deeper into the horizon.

"You'll love my little brother," he said with a wink.

With that, they started back into the heart of the town. Andreya chanced another glance at the man, chattering incessantly and laughing at his own jokes and grinning like a wildcat.

If Reide's brother was anything like him, perhaps she would like him. If only a little.

Her lips curved at the corners and she almost forgot once again that she had come here to die.

──── xxx ────

Hey, y'all! (I gave up on the alliteration lol.) This chapter was a trip to write and it's not really edited too much, so if you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear what you think! Don't forget to vote if you enjoyed and check out some more awesomeness from the ONC community!  <3