“Oh, the parachute.” Hawk smiled as he draped his arm over the back of the booth to rest his hand on Aisling’s shoulder. “Ilovedthe parachute.”
I lifted an eyebrow at his obvious joy over this thing I never heard of before.
“I think we all did,” Wren said.
“What is a parachute?” I inquired.
“It was a big piece of colorful cloth that kids took turns holding onto while others ran under it,” Hawk explained.
“Sounds… fun,” I said, though it sounded bizarre.
The three ex-humans chuckled.
“It really was a blast,” Wren insisted.
I’d been here for almost fifteen years, and I still didn’t understand humans. However, I did like them a lot more now. In the beginning, I found them all to be unappreciative, bumbling assholes who had fucked up the Hell, Earth, Heaven cycle that kept us all alive.
Over the years, I’d started to understand them a little more, but I would never understand what was so fun about running around under a colorful piece of cloth. Judging by the look on Shax and Corson’s faces, they agreed with me.
“I guess you had to be there,” Aisling said.
“We also enjoyed throwing balls at each other and dodging them,” Hawk said. “We called it dodge ball.”
Corson laughed. “How original.”
“Sometimes simple is best,” Wren said with a straight face.
“If you’re ever feeling nostalgic, we could always have Aisling, River, or Kobal throw balls of fire at you, and you can dodge them,” I suggested.
“No thanks,” Hawk said. “Dodgeball is another one of those things where you had to be there.”
“They must have pulled the bleachers out or burned them,” Wren said.
“Bleachers?” Shax asked.
“These things we used to sit on. They would fold up against the wall, but they’re gone, or maybe this school didn’t have them.”
Before anyone could reply, a tree nymph wearing a sheer dress bounced up to the table. “Can I get you all something to drink?” she asked.
“What do you have?” Aisling asked.
I listened to her list of drinks, which included mostly human concoctions, as I watched Calabar at the bar. He’d turned sideways to keep an eye on us, but he couldn’t see Lix, Magnus, or Amalia; the lower-level demon with him was watching them.
Calabar was a coward and a fool, but he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try something here. Or at least I hoped he wouldn’t. Calamuts didn’t always care about who started the fight; they only cared about ending it.
However, I didn’t understand how the calamut trees could end a fight in here. There weren’t any inside of the building, although their leaves littered the floor. At first, I assumed they were brought in from outside, but the answer dawned at me as I tipped my head back to take in the ceiling.
The ceiling was high enough that sound should have echoed around the room at least a little, but that didn’t happen here. And that was because the thick branches of the calamut trees were entwined around the beams and hidden in the shadows encompassing the room.
The calamuts wouldn’t break through the ceiling to take out an enemy because they were already inside and plugging the holes they’d created. An uneasy feeling twisted in my stomach when my attention shifted back to Calabar. Did he know the trees were aware of our every move, or was he stupid enough to think he might have a chance to attack us before the calamuts could do anything about it?
When the male nymph behind the bar said something to him, Calabar turned away from us. The nymph nodded and walked away, but Calabar didn’t turn back toward us. From the corner of my eye, I watched him as the others ordered their drinks.
“Would you like anything?” the nymph asked me.
“Mjéod,” I said. Now wasn’t exactly the best time to drink, but it had been months since I tasted the demon brew, and I missed it.
“It’s made form the waters of the Asharún,” the nymph said proudly.
