Okay, also fine. They could play their games with themselves from now on because I was done.
No more mates.
No more dreams.
No more anything.
Totally not practical resolutions, but I’d figure them out. Somehow.
“I need a spritemead,” I announced, interrupting Ella and Tray’s adorable little moment.
He stopped nibbling her jaw to smirk at me. “Then I know jus
t the place.”
The packages all whirled around us in a wave of magic before sailing straight through a solid wall toward whatever enchanted express would take them back to the Academy. Hopefully, they would remain untouched until my return. Not likely, but I’d deal with that later.
Along with all the other issues in my life.
For now, I wanted to indulge my Elemental Fae tastes.
The walk through town revealed a lot of cloak-clad fae wandering the streets in pursuit of a late midnight lunch, just like us. But the tavern Tray led us to wasn’t overcrowded with patrons, leaving several booths open near the windows for us to pick from. The wooden tables were dark in color and adorned with candles that illuminated the darker interior. No ceiling lights or lamps, just fire, and the occasional torch near the corner bar.
Slightly spooky, but oddly homey because of the fireplace in the opposite corner lined with bookshelves. A gargoyle crawled up onto our table, his expression bored. “What’ll it be?”
“Three spritemeads, please,” Ella said. “And some menus.”
“Yeah, yeah,” the stone creature grumbled before jumping down with a loud crunch as his stone feet met the marble floor.
I winced, thinking that sounded rather painful, but his wings crinkled at his back as he strutted off toward the bar. He seemed to weave pretty easily between the array of high-top tables and stools, so it must not have hurt at all.
“Three spritemeads, hmm?” Tray asked.
“Aflora swears it’s good, so we’re going to find out.”
“I’ve already tried spritemead,” he replied, touching his index finger to the tip of her nose from across the table. He’d chosen one side of the booth, while we shared the opposite bench.
“And is it good?” she pressed.
“I guess you’ll find out soon enough.” He winked at her. “But I’m getting a proper beer to go with mine.”
“Proper beer,” she echoed, glancing at me and wrinkling her nose. “He likes human beer from Germany best. I’m not a fan of any of it.”
“I’m not a fan of human drinks in general,” I replied. “No offense.”
“None taken. But hot chocolate is divine.”
“On that, I agree.” We had our own version as Elemental Fae, but it was similar enough. Just with a few additional spices.
Three pints of spritemead appeared before us on the table with an array of menus cascading across the top. Tray slammed his palm on the top of them to stop the colorful array of papers from flying to the floor, their windy arrival kicking up quite the little tornado across our booth. It disappeared with a flourish, but not before brushing the hair from our faces and leaving us all with a windswept kiss across our foreheads.
“Well, that’s different,” I breathed.
Tray snorted. “That’s a gargoyle being an asshole.” He glared over his shoulder at the stone creature in question. “Find a new occupation if you don’t want to wait tables.”
“Oh, it’s my fault. He’s in a mood from having to man the counter for me while I whipped up some stir-fry in the back.” A woman with long white hair and dark green eyes seemed to appear beside us, her features young yet oddly old at the same time. Like she’d lived a long life and had seen a lot, too. But there wasn’t a single wrinkle marring her otherwise lovely face. How interesting.
“Hey, Anrika,” Tray drawled, his easy grin creasing into a pair of dimples that seemed to make Ella swoon a little. Or maybe it was the way he seemed to know everyone. He’d addressed all the figments by name in AcaWard as well, despite them being invisible. “How’s the family?”