Page 16 of Inferno
“You don’t seem particularly surprised about there being dragons in Minia,” Yorin said carefully, a tentative exploration of an issue that had so far divided the community along very clear lines. Everyone he’d spoken to on the topic had been either wide eyed and excited about the possibilities of being able to tame dragons, or vehemently opposed to their presence.
Nerik looked at Yorin with that same stern, serious expression. “What’s your take on them?” he asked, giving away nothing about what he was thinking. And that made Yorin wonder what Nerik really thought. Was he in favour of the flying carriage service? Or against any association with ‘demons’? Were dragons even really demons, or were they some other form of creature?
Yorin glanced at the sky again, though the dragon was now out of sight. He opened his mouth to reply… and then closed it again. He chewed his lip and sighed, contemplating the strange developments in their city of late.
“I suppose I don’t really know,” he ventured in the end. “We’ve been taught our whole lives that demons are evil and dangerous and we depend on the warriors to hold back the tide of corruption… but at the same time, Captain Leefe used to bring demons into the town square to make a public spectacle of them, and I have to wonder, if we’re so susceptible to their evil influence, why would he risk exposing the general public to them?
“And then suddenly a group of men show up, clearly demonstrating that they have, in fact, tamed a handful of dragons. I know people are protesting about them being allowed to visit Minia, but since they started coming here, there’s been not a single report of anyone being attacked or harmed by a dragon. So… I honestly don’t know,” he concluded finally.
“I suppose it’s early days yet,” Nerik said, a thoughtful look on his face. “And I’ve probably heard more reports than you have, being a messenger and all, but so far, everyone who’s actually got up close with the dragons, be it riding on them, or seeing them after they land, or whatever, has said the same thing: the dragons are perfectly tame and no one has been harmed in the slightest way by them.”
“I’d be more comfortable with them if I had the chance to talk to their riders first hand,” Yorin said. “But I’m sure the men are too busy to just stand around and explain themselves to ordinary bystanders. I suppose I’ll just have to wait and see, like everyone else.” The number of unknowns in that equation was frighteningly large, and yet at the same time, Yorin felt invigorated about finding out the answers.
But pondering the mysteries of the gate would have to wait a bit longer. “I really should get going,” he said to Nerik. “I’ve got a mountain of orders, and if I don’t get started on them, I’m going to have some very unhappy customers. I’ll see you tonight, though?” he added, knowing the answer was yes, but wanting to remind Nerik anyway. The anticipation of a real date was making him both excited and antsy.
“Absolutely,” Nerik said with a grin. “Can’t wait.”
“Bye for now, then.” Yorin headed off down the road, glancing back several times to wave to Nerik. His heart was dancing in his chest and his palms were sweating. Goodness, what a day. There were dragons in the sky, and serving women turning down marriage proposals, and he was going on adate. The world truly was a strange and inexplicable place.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was a quarter to six by the time Nerik finished his last delivery and made it to the White Hare. He hoped Yorin wasn’t feeling too uncomfortable. No doubt he’d be inside, sitting at a table in a quiet corner and feeling entirely out of place. Perhaps asking him to a pub for their first date had been a bad idea. He was perfectly aware that Yorin wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. But he really didn’t know what else to suggest. Back in Chalandros, Nerik had never dated anyone. Infernals simply didn’t do that sort of thing. And once he’d crossed the gate, his ‘dating’ history consisted of little more than a short string of one night stands, before he’d tired of the lack of any real connection and started looking for something more meaningful. And then he’d met Yorin, and the rest was history.
He let himself into the pub, scanning the room to find his companion. He spotted Yorin easily, in a seat over by the wall, as predicted. But the instant Nerik caught sight of him, he suddenly realised that he’d completely failed to do anything like enough planning for this evening.
Yorin looked… gorgeous. He’d put on a forest green shirt with silver embroidery down the sleeves. He had a charcoal cravat and he’d changed his tan trousers for black ones. He looked decadently stylish, at the same time as entirely comfortable. His blond hair was neatly combed, and he had a small glass of some sort of spirit in front of him. A little nip of liquid courage, perhaps? Was he as nervous as Nerik was?
Well, Nerik was suddenly feeling a whole lot more nervous than he had been ten seconds ago. Damn it, he was going on a date with atailor. He should have put at least half a second’s thought into what he was wearing. His trousers and boots were covered in dust and there was a stain on the sleeve of his shirt from where a carton of berries had leaked juice onto him. He felt rough and uncouth by comparison.
Maybe he should have worn the shirt Yorin gave him yesterday. Although it really needed a wash, after he’d spent the day running around Minia in it. Or maybe he should have brought a clean shirt with him to change into, after he’d finished his deliveries?
Nerik floundered in the doorway for a moment, before resigning himself to wearing the clothes he already had on. It was far too late to run all the way home and change, and it wasn’t like he had any other options right now.
He made his way across the room, saying a quick hello to a couple of other patrons as he went. But when Yorin looked up and saw him coming, the smile on the man’s face made Nerik instantly forget about his clothes. “Hey,” he said, knowing he was grinning like an idiot. “You came.”
“You didn’t think I was going to?”
“I try not to take too much for granted,” Nerik replied, sliding into the seat opposite Yorin. He’d chosen a small table, just big enough for two, and Nerik angled his chair so that he could see the majority of the room, including the door. Although he’d lived in Minia for four years without incident, it was just as well to pay attention.
“How was your afternoon?” Yorin asked, and Nerik indulged him, making small talk for a few minutes while Yorin finished his drink and both of their nerves settled. Honestly, they’d known each other long enough that Nerik found this sort of charade to be completely unnecessary. But at the same time, he’d conditioned himself to conform to human cultural norms, regardless of how inconvenient some of them were.
A few minutes later, a waitress approached them. “What’ll it be?” she asked, notebook and pencil poised in her hands.
Nerik picked up the paper menu sitting on the table, making sure to only touch it with the tips of his fingers. In his human form, there should have been no risk at all of the thing inadvertently bursting into flames, but a lifetime of experience made him cautious about handling anything that was inherently flammable.
The pub had a fairly basic selection of foods that varied a little on a weekly basis, but the staples were some sort of stew – today it was rabbit – or a variety of sandwiches, bacon and eggs on toast, or for those with a bit of extra cash, a plate of roast meat with vegetables. Today, there was also a beef pie on the menu, though it was a good bet it would be more mushroom than beef.
It was an easy decision. Almost every time Nerik visited this pub, he ordered the same thing. “I’m going to get a beef sandwich. On toast. With cheese but no tomato.”
“Relish?” the waitress asked.
“No, thank you.”
“And you?” she asked Yorin.
“A slice of the beef pie with mashed potato.”
“Drinks?” She wasn’t being rude, just efficient. The pub was crowded and there were plenty more patrons waiting for a meal.