A Place To Bloom

Prayer

"HEY!" Geraln called to me from inside the pub. "What are you doing? Get in here!"

I was trying to muster the courage to admit to Davod that I'd spent all his money. He sat with Geraln and two other men I'd never seen before.

The pub was lit by red candles set about the tables along with what daylight came through the front door, and the place was mostly empty. A Goloagi girl behind the bar with dark-green locks that tufted up in curls and fell past her shoulders glanced at me and smiled wide as I walked in.

"Caleb!" Davod shouted. "Get over here, man! You got to meet my new friends!"

From the slur, he had to be at least four or five beers in. Geraln had the look of a cat satisfied with his mischief; he picked up a scrap of bread from a brown paper on the table. As for the two new men, the one closest to the door gave me a perfunctory smile.

"I'm Ales." His knee bounced nervously. The other man draped his arm over the back of his chair with ease. "Faren."

Geraln resumed the introduction. "They were called to Carthia just like us."

Ales added, "I thought for sure we'd be headed for Kulun. Where the hell is fucking Carthia?"

I asked. "You don't know anything about the place, either?"

Faren gazed at me droopy-eyed. "I asked around. Apparently of all the conflict zones throughout the Empire, Carthia is the bastard child among them. They said don't go there, that we'd be better off taking our chances with the Invisible Hand. But there's hope!" he raised a finger. "You see, we can escape the Invisible Hand by hiding out in the one place they're too scared to go."

"Where's that?"

"Carthia."

Davod chuckled while Geraln gave off a half-smile.

I couldn't help it. "Well, uh... I bet the girls there are gorgeous."

"Here we go!" Davod lifted his mug to me, took a good drink, and set it back down. Ales nodded and laughed lightly to himself.

Faren smiled and kicked under the table so that an empty chair skidded across the floor towards me. "Sit down, man. Tell us your side of the story."

"What story?"

Ales spoke to that. "Your friends tell us you're some kind of doctor, got yourself a patient and everything."

"I don't know about that..."

Davod slurred out his own explanation, "he's working on that, gods, she's got thee most incredible fucking legs you ever seen!" He turned to Geraln. "Don't get me wrong—Sage is a beauty, but you guys should see... what's her name?"

My eyes went wide. "You can't be serious?"

Geraln answered. "Oasis."

Davod repeated. "Oasis. Gods I'd like to get between that. Thick, meaty thighs push back on you like a spring, man, she is something else entirely! You make any progress on that?"

"Her friend is dying!"

"Sit down, man." Ales said. I did.

Davod slapped my shoulder. "You can't let that go to waste. You got the perfect in on that girl. You screw that up, I will lose all faith in you from now on."

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It's not..."

"Khello zere, khandsome! Vat can ve get for zhu?" It was the barmaid. She spoke with a thick Goloagi accent, rolling her Rs and contorting some words as to be barely recognizable. She stood beside me, bent over slightly as she wiped the table, and uh... I uh... I mean, I wasn't blind.