“Leena! Over here,” Oz called from the far end of the bar, a shaky smile pulling at his lips.
Dodging a pair of tits that threatened to knock me over, I sidestepped the bar maiden and sidled in next to him. Scrubbed clean and dressed in a sleeveless white tunic and loose-fitting, russet-brown trousers, he leaned against the bar and palmed a mug of ale.
“Did Calem drag you here?” I stuck my thumb over my shoulder at the sudden outburst of feminine laughter.
Oz’s eyes slid behind me to linger on his friend. “He claimed he’d get me a date.”
“Really now? Seems like he’s more interested in his own nighttime activities.” Signaling the bartender, I ordered a Cockatiel Kiss—a southern specialty—before swiveling on the wooden stool to face him directly. “Not to worry, though. I’ve got you covered.” I took a swig from my freshly poured drink. Pineapples and cinnamon liquor with a hint of nutmeg rushed over my tongue, warming my throat. “You’re not great with women.”
Oz’s chuckle was short. “You’re not instilling any confidence.”
I set my glass on a black napkin, and a ring of condensation bled to life. “I’ll help you. Charming people isn’t that different from charming beasts.”
Thick eyebrows drew together. “Can you do that? Charm people?”
A sudden sharp pain speared my rib cage, and I stared past Oz into a memory he couldn’t see. Cool sweat trickled down the lines of my palms. No one had eversuccessfullytamed another human being, but that’s not to say it hadn’t been tested. Not by me, but by someone I knew. Intimately.
“Leena?” Oz reached out to graze my shoulder, and I flinched. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” My gaze darted to the dangling light above our heads. Seashells dripped from fish netting in a makeshift lampshade. “No. You can’t charm people. I just meant that figuratively.”
His eyes narrowed. “Leena—”
A portly man made a move for the open barstool beside me. I turned in my seat, flashing him a dazzling smile, and leaned forward to give my cleavage a good show. “Sorry, hon. I’m saving this seat for my friend.”
Grimy hands wiped down his off-white work shirt. “No problem, doll. Come see me if you want a drink.” He moved away, but kept his face angled toward me.
Concern fought with curiosity, deepening the creases in Oz’s forehead. Curiosity won out. “Who are you saving the seat for?”
“Your date.”
His face blanched, and he drowned his ale in one heavy swig. “Leena, don’t worry about it. I’m not alone, anyway. You’re here with me.”
I glanced back at him. “I’ll worry if I want to.” I tossed him a smile before once again skimming the patrons for possibilities. Just then, a lone woman entered the pub. With sunset-red hair tied back in a thick braid, she had a pleasant heart-shaped face and wide olive eyes—eyes locked directly on the open barstool beside me. Her gaze jumped to me and I smiled, motioning toward the empty seat.
“Anyone sitting here?” She brushed her hands along her hips, and her gaze caught on Oz. Winner.
I beamed at her. “No, help yourself. I’m Leena, and this is my friend, Ozias. ‘Oz’ works, too.”
He fumbled for a moment before pushing out a rushed “Hey.” He hid his face in his mug and tried to fade into the wall at his side.
“I’m Corinne. Nice to meet you.” She gripped the edge of the bar as she sat. “I haven’t seen you two around here before.”
“I’m here on business. Oz was kind enough to escort me.”
Corinne peered past me to smile at him. “That’s nice of you.”
When he didn’t respond, Corinne reclined and stared out over the crowd. I glared at him, but he only wilted farther away.
“So.” I swiveled back to her. “What do you do around here for fun?”
The bartender dropped off Corinne’s drink, and she toyed with the black straw. “Well, fishing is an obvious first choice for most, but I’m more partial to getsa ball.”
“Getsa ball?” If this had been one of the questions in Noc’s game, I would have failed miserably. Growing up in Hireath had its perks, but we were woefully secluded from the rest of the world. Whatever she was referring to was something we didn’t have, and my days of banishment weren’t exactly full of leisurely activities.
She gave me an incredulous stare. “You’ve never heard of getsa ball? C’mon, you’re kidding me.” She looked past me to Oz. “She’s kidding, right?”
He braved a sentence. “It’s a sport.”
