A Dreadful Weight (First Draft) - Outer Realms Book 2

Prologue

Sydney was buzzing with the Friday nightlife. People rugged up in thick coats walked and ran and shambled along the harbour, talking and yelling and laughing. The buildings around Darling Harbour were lit up in a rainbow of colours that were reflected off the gently rippling waters of the harbour that slapped rhythmically against the rock foreshore. The cold wind bit at any exposed flesh and carried with it the smell of the ocean to mix with smells of food wafting from the restaurants and bars.

It was one of those restaurants that Joel Donaghue was headed toward. He was dressed up and freshly shaven. He had a spring in his step as he walked past the Maritime Museum and bounded up the stairs to a restaurant on the corner of the busy intersection.

The restaurant was a round building fronting the street with a full wall of windows. The tables and chairs were simple metal and dark wood. The floors were a combination of distressed wood pathways between areas of slate grey carpet under the tables. A few of the walls had a facade of large white stone that matched the bar. The restaurant was full of people, the sounds of quiet conversation and the clinking of cutlery on plates mixing into a meaningless background noise. The lights were dim, creating a muted ambiance.

Joel smiled at the host who greeted him. "Hey," he said, "I have a reservation for one under Donaghue."

"Of course," The host said pleasantly, "You're upstairs tonight. Right this way."

The host showed Joel to a table on the first floor by a window, set apart from the other tables in a quiet alcove.

The host handed over a menu. "Is there anything we can start you off with?"

"Can I get the bruschetta and a glass of the local Merlot, thanks," Joel said. The host nodded and left.

Joel took a quick look at the menu before leaning back in his chair and looking out the window. There was not much to see but he was not paying attention to the view. There were no children, no work and no other demands on his time, and he was barely awake let alone aware. It took him a full minute to realise a waitress had appeared and was placing a full bottle of wine by his food.

Joel blinked up at her and pointed at the wine. "Sorry, this isn't what I ordered. This is the expensive wine and I only asked for a glass."

"Your bill for this evening has been covered," the waitress said.

Joel's brow furrowed in confusion. "Who? Why?"

The waitress shrugged. "I don't know; I'm just the messenger. They insisted on the wine though."

"Well I'm not going to complain."

"Are you ready to order?"

Joel placed his order, poured himself a glass of wine and returned to looking out the window, his thoughts wandering lazily. Memories of his week drifted through the front of his consciousness, images of monsters with twisted faces and long, razor sharp claws, and naked men superimposed with fierce-eyed beasts. His memories had all the emotional weight of the menu he had just chosen from. They were yesterday's problems that he recalled with practised detachment. A cleared throat pulled Joel from his reverie.

"Excuse me."

Joel looked up at the man holding the plate with his meal. He was tall, dark skinned and bald with a wide smile that furrowed the bridge of his bold, aquiline nose. Light danced in his dark eyes. He was dressed casually and unlike any of the wait staff with black trousers and a denim shirt over a plain white tee. His voice was low, coming from somewhere deep in his chest and coloured by a french accent though Joel barely heard it, distracted momentarily by the handsome man.