bullshit. I find it wears them down over the long run.”
“I’m sure it does,” said Verona. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my lips are becoming parched.” She gave Steele and me a nod. “Until next time.”
She wandered off toward the bar. Theo shook his head as she left. “I can’t quite get a bead on her, but I tell you what. I think she’s a lot smarter than she lets on. I’m definitely keeping my eye on her.”
Verona swayed as she walked, her dress tight. “You would.”
“Pardon?” said Theo.
“Ah…nothing,” I said. “So tell me, Theo, has this excrement barrage of yours already begun?”
“Excrement barrage?” Theo laughed. “You do like to play fast and loose with language. And perhaps other things as well.” He gave me an exaggerated look out of the corner of his eyes.
“I’m not sure I follow,” I said.
“I wouldn’t expect you to, but it’s all part of the game. Don’t you love poker?” He lifted his glass only to find he’d reached the bottom. “Oh. My cup runneth dry, so I’m off to slither my way through the crowds at the bar. It was nice meeting you, and I wish you all the worst of luck in the days to come.”
He smiled and toasted his empty glass in our direction as he left.
“He’s a firebrand, isn’t he?” said Steele.
“Yeah, but in a nice way, if that’s possible.”
Steele took a sip of her beverage. “So…should we meet the others?”
“Might as well,” I said. “But only after a tour of the room’s snack trays. I’m starving.”
9
Following the whims of my stomach did not go without consequence. While I crammed eggs and delicate, slivered salmon down my gullet, Johann made his exit. Based purely on visual evidence—I was much too far away to hear the words he spoke—he excused himself to his entourage, spoke something to his thick-necked escorts, and headed for the door, but not before casting a long glance in the direction of Verona, who lounged by herself, smoking in the far corner.
With my belly momentarily sated, I headed to the bar to refresh Shay’s and my drinks while my partner approached Ghorza, who she deemed to be the slightly less intimidating of our two remaining marks. I didn’t envy her the task—between her obesity and facial warts, Ghorza was particularly unsightly, even for an orc—but after nearly twenty minutes waiting in line at the bar, I questioned if I’d made the right choice.
When I finally secured an apricot whiskey sour and a glass of merlot from the bartender, who apologized profusely for the delay, it was only to find Shay walking back toward me from Ghorza’s direction.
“I take it I missed everything?” I handed Shay her glass and grabbed a miniature quiche from a passing tray.
“That you did.” She nodded toward the crowd. “What took so long? There’s only four or five people in each line.”
“Yeah, well the bartender decided to grow the vegetables for one guy’s Bloody Mary from scratch, and he made another drink from egg whites that involved seven or eight minutes of solid shaking. I’m surprised his arm didn’t fall off.”
“And you didn’t switch lines?”
“Trust me, I thought about it. They kept filling in around me.” I popped the quiche into my mouth. “So tell me about Ghorza.”
“She’s pleasant enough,” said Steele as she sipped her wine. “Or I suspect she would be if she weren’t drunk. She must’ve gotten an early start, because she’s pretty far gone, to the point where she already seems hung over. She kept wincing and asking me to keep my voice down, and she seemed to have a hard time processing some of my questions.”
“Did you get anything useful?”
“As far as the tournament is concerned?” Shay shrugged. “I wasn’t able to progress the conversation past the trivial. Ghorza’s manservant, Vlad, wasn’t particularly interested in chatting, despite his sobriety. I think he suspected me of trying to take advantage of Ghorza’s condition
“I’m sure it does,” said Verona. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my lips are becoming parched.” She gave Steele and me a nod. “Until next time.”
She wandered off toward the bar. Theo shook his head as she left. “I can’t quite get a bead on her, but I tell you what. I think she’s a lot smarter than she lets on. I’m definitely keeping my eye on her.”
Verona swayed as she walked, her dress tight. “You would.”
“Pardon?” said Theo.
“Ah…nothing,” I said. “So tell me, Theo, has this excrement barrage of yours already begun?”
“Excrement barrage?” Theo laughed. “You do like to play fast and loose with language. And perhaps other things as well.” He gave me an exaggerated look out of the corner of his eyes.
“I’m not sure I follow,” I said.
“I wouldn’t expect you to, but it’s all part of the game. Don’t you love poker?” He lifted his glass only to find he’d reached the bottom. “Oh. My cup runneth dry, so I’m off to slither my way through the crowds at the bar. It was nice meeting you, and I wish you all the worst of luck in the days to come.”
He smiled and toasted his empty glass in our direction as he left.
“He’s a firebrand, isn’t he?” said Steele.
“Yeah, but in a nice way, if that’s possible.”
Steele took a sip of her beverage. “So…should we meet the others?”
“Might as well,” I said. “But only after a tour of the room’s snack trays. I’m starving.”
9
Following the whims of my stomach did not go without consequence. While I crammed eggs and delicate, slivered salmon down my gullet, Johann made his exit. Based purely on visual evidence—I was much too far away to hear the words he spoke—he excused himself to his entourage, spoke something to his thick-necked escorts, and headed for the door, but not before casting a long glance in the direction of Verona, who lounged by herself, smoking in the far corner.
With my belly momentarily sated, I headed to the bar to refresh Shay’s and my drinks while my partner approached Ghorza, who she deemed to be the slightly less intimidating of our two remaining marks. I didn’t envy her the task—between her obesity and facial warts, Ghorza was particularly unsightly, even for an orc—but after nearly twenty minutes waiting in line at the bar, I questioned if I’d made the right choice.
When I finally secured an apricot whiskey sour and a glass of merlot from the bartender, who apologized profusely for the delay, it was only to find Shay walking back toward me from Ghorza’s direction.
“I take it I missed everything?” I handed Shay her glass and grabbed a miniature quiche from a passing tray.
“That you did.” She nodded toward the crowd. “What took so long? There’s only four or five people in each line.”
“Yeah, well the bartender decided to grow the vegetables for one guy’s Bloody Mary from scratch, and he made another drink from egg whites that involved seven or eight minutes of solid shaking. I’m surprised his arm didn’t fall off.”
“And you didn’t switch lines?”
“Trust me, I thought about it. They kept filling in around me.” I popped the quiche into my mouth. “So tell me about Ghorza.”
“She’s pleasant enough,” said Steele as she sipped her wine. “Or I suspect she would be if she weren’t drunk. She must’ve gotten an early start, because she’s pretty far gone, to the point where she already seems hung over. She kept wincing and asking me to keep my voice down, and she seemed to have a hard time processing some of my questions.”
“Did you get anything useful?”
“As far as the tournament is concerned?” Shay shrugged. “I wasn’t able to progress the conversation past the trivial. Ghorza’s manservant, Vlad, wasn’t particularly interested in chatting, despite his sobriety. I think he suspected me of trying to take advantage of Ghorza’s condition
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