Chapter 18 - Scum

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Even the drinks were different in the south. Instead of the smooth, silver liquid in a crystal cup, they were served a dark, amber fluid in a roughly carved and decorated, wooden mug. The alcohol was stronger, and the taste was bitter. Anah sipped her drink slowly, not wanting to get as drunk as she had before, but wanting to drink enough to try to break through all the tension in their group.  

Roze was still unconscious. Rendel had made her float upright as they were walking through town, and nobody even looked twice. In the bar she was sitting in a chair, head drooping and eyes shut, but still no one noticed. Felidy had assured them that she seemed in perfect health and it was probably mostly shock, but Anah really didn't think anyone was concerned. Roze was just being Roze: an overly dramatic burden on everyone. Her being unconscious was just an improvement.  

"You've hardly had a sip!" Anah accused Jack. She's had enough of her own drink that she didn't care about any weirdness between them. He was going to talk to her, and he was going to enjoy it because she was an absolute delight. 

"I don't drink." Jack shrugged.  

Anah smacked her hand against the table in front of him. "Drink! You're being really annoying lately, and I can't stand it, and if this gets you to loosen up-" 

Jack put his hand over Anah's mouth. "You're screaming," he told her. Her tongue pressed against the inside of his palm, making him pull his hand away. "Gross! Why would you do that?" 

Anah laughed at the almost horrified expression on his face. "You very clearly didn't grow up with any siblings," she teased, dropping her voice to a near whisper.  

"Anah has a volume control problem when she drinks!" Rendel announced, throwing his arm around her shoulders. His eyes were slightly out of focus, and he was leaning a bit too heavy on her. He put his lips right up against her ear. "Don't you, my love?" 

"Ew." She pushed him away from her before Jack got the entirely wrong idea...again.  

The bar was already full of loud, drunken Southerners, so Rendel blended right in with the perverted men and loose women that alcohol produced. The noise was somehow even louder than it had been in the streets, and the sun was only just starting to dip in the sky. That was another difference between Fair and Southern: the sheer volume

"This is very different from the Fair town!" Anah had to shout at Rendel though he was only sitting right across from her at the table.  

Apparently she was overheard because a couple people at the next table stood up, raised their glasses in the air, and shouted, "Fairy-born is a waste of life!" 

Many others in the bar, including Rendel, raised their glasses, shouting together a response. "And a Fairy death makes me smile bright!" 

Rendel winked at Felidy before throwing back his drink with the rest of the bar. Felidy pulled her hair covering down further to make sure no hint of light hair was showing through. The crowd was clearly not welcoming toward Fair Folk.  

The men who had shouted out before started singing a quiet, slow song. The words weren't in a language Anah recognized, and even if she did they were too slurred to make out clearly. The song spread like wildfire until the whole bar was slowly rocking on their stools, singing the melancholy tune. Felidy had a faint frown on her face as she listened, trying to distinguish the mutilated words. When she finally got it, her face contorted in disgust. She hit Rendel who was singing the song to her. "Shut up! That's terrible!" she hissed.  

"What are they saying?" Jack asked, his curiosity as strong as Anah's.  

"I am not interpreting that!" He cheeks were red. "It's vile!" 

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