After leaving the audience chamber, Sara walked through the Dreena District on the east side of Lemora, guards in tow. It was a cold area where few talked to others, and a wrong “look” could end in a fight. The buildings were mostly shacks, and the stench was terrible. Rich nobles passing through to get to the east gates would sometimes throw silver gliders at children, unaware that many would be savagely beaten and robbed by nightfall. It was a terrible area, and it brought back nightmares.

Sara had never lived in the Dreena District, but she had lived in many like it while on the run from Jason’s forces. She had squatted in disease-ridden squalors, eating wild game to put meat on Tiber’s protruding ribs. It was a terrible life, but it was necessary. The one virtue of places like Dreena was that no one asked questions or saw anything..... even if the price was right. And when a person’s face was plastered on every Adventurer’s Guild and law enforcement billboard in multiple kingdoms, attached to exorbitant bounties for simple information, it was the only place to go. Now, she was reminding herself of that life..... and the reason she was playing politics in cocktail dresses instead of living covertly in Helscope, building power in secret as she tried to earn back Kyritus.

It didn’t take long in her walk before Sara realized that she didn’t just want to live a happy life with Kyritus and Tiber.....

..... she wanted to fix all the broken pieces in her life and save the people she lost along the way. Fate had given her a second chance—a true second chance—a dream that everyone wished for and none could obtain. She wouldn’t squander it. For that reason, she needed to fight Haligara and obtain Qualth now to fix her current situation.

Once she finished her tour, Sara walked to her favorite tavern, “Lilli’s,” home to adventurers and a good friend. Then, after warning her tailing spies not to enter, she walked through the door, flooding her senses with sounds and smells. Adventurers drank at the bar, keeping close to the liquid that brought them there, while others swapped exaggerated stories at tables, eating dark brown bread and chasing it with ale.

The moment she walked in, she turned heads.

“Oi! Come have’a drink. You’re in the wrong place, but I’ll make it a good time.”

Sara ignored the snickering and walked to the bar. “Hey, Lilli. The reg….” She smiled bitterly when she was reminded, yet again, that her friends were strangers. The bartender looked at her curiously. She was a brunette in her mid-thirties, three years younger than the day Sara met her and six younger than the last time she saw her. Time was a confusing paradox these days, but Lilli was still Lilli. “I’ll have a half-press and a slice of romat,” Sara corrected.

“That’s one helluva order, young lady,” Lilli said. “I ain’t one for scarin’ off customers, but I feel honor bound to warn ya. A half press tastes like dehydrated piss, and our brand could knock off a monta.”

Sara smiled distantly. “Double press. Two romat slices.”

“I’ll drink to that!” an adventurer yelled. “I was worried she’d outman me!”

“She is out manning me. Shit. Even a double press would put some hair on your chest.”

Sara’s mood lifted, but it was short-lived. Tomorrow, she was leaving for Haligara’s Lair—the place Emma died—and would be facing her trauma. That was far scarier than knowing that she could die fighting a legendary beast without Qualth, the Bow of Rymac, a party, or a fully developed constitution. Jumping into battle was what she did best; confronting her past was her greatest weakness.

“Here you go, Jasperberry,” Lilli said, handing her a glass with two fingers of liquid squeezed from a fermented olive-like fruit. Humans create the most disgusting shit. Sara took a drink and winced. To think, it was twice filtered.

“Thanks,” Sara said.

Lilli took a studying glance at her and then walked away, getting another set of rounds. That’s what she loved about Lilli. She knew when to go away and just leave her alone. The adventurers? Not so much.

“Hey.” A good-looking man sat beside her. He had good features, gentle brown eyes, and a smile that belonged to a noble instead of a commoner. “Can I buy you your next double press?”

“At least you get it,” Sara sighed, taking another drink without looking at him. “But no. Thank you for your offer.”

“Oh, come on. Come join us.”

Sara took a deep breath and stared at her reflection in the dark green liquid. A beautiful young woman stared back at her, the polar opposite of how she felt at that moment. “Listen,” she said, rolling the ice rocks in her glass. “And please hear me out, and don’t get the wrong impression.”

He flashed her a welcoming smile. “Sure.”

“See, last year, something very, very bad happened to me. Traumatic, you might say.” His smile faded. “And I haven’t quite been the same. I had a bit of a temper back then, but it was manageable. That’s because I had someone to go back to—a life to look forward to. Now, those things are gone, and I’ve kinda, really, actually, quite explicitly turned into a total fucking bitch with a serious anger problem.”

His face paled when she looked at him with cold, intense eyes that could charge to life at the flip of a breaker.

“I hate that about myself right now, but the thing about anger problems is that you can’t control them. That’s why it’s called a ‘problem.’ I’d like to get it under control, I really do. But I don’t know how to. And that’s kinda a dilemma at the moment because I want to be left alone, and I don’t know how to make you get that without breaking your wrist or suffocating you with magical pressure.”

The adventurer swallowed, nervous but seemingly fascinated. “You could just ask, you know.”

“Ah, I see,” Sara took a gulp of her double press like it was a glass of orange juice. “I didn’t know it would be that easy. Thank you. Now, please leave.”

He blinked a few times and then chuckled heartedly. “Okay. I’ll go. But are you sure you don’t want to..... “

“See?” Sara asked, leaking magical pressure that made his body pimple with goosebumps. “It doesn’t really work. You’re the slightest bit nice, and then people think they have a shot. Or they see it as a weakness and start probing.” Her magical pressure rose, but she reined it in, counting backward, like the advice from the terribly acted “Report Abuse” videos she watched in fifth grade.

Suddenly, the door opened, and a large Hispanic man walked into the tavern with a relieved gaze. “There you are.”Stolen novel; please report.

“Oh, great,” Sara chuckled. “Someone who actually knows how to solve problems.”

“Sara….” Raul walked up to the good-looking man, whose face was slack. “Hey there. I’m sorry to interrupt, but this is my friend, and she’s going through some stuff right now. Is it okay if you guys give her some space?”

The adventurer swallowed and stood up, clearly able to sense Raul’s chaotic, untamed pressure. “Sure thing. I was about to anyway.”

Raul looked at the other tables amicably.

“Yeah. No worries.”

“Sure.

“We’re just eatin’. No problems here, guy.”

“Cool. Thank you guys.” Raul sat down where the man was and paused for a few seconds before sighing. “Sorry to ask,” he said to Lilli, “but what do people drink here?”

“A half-press,” Sara said.

The house erupted in laughter. It seemed they were all listening to her, after all.

“I’ll get ya you a twalla, hun,” Lilli said. “If you can’t handle that, you ain’t drinkin’ with the right woman.”

“I’ll drink to that!” A drunken man slapped the table and started chugging, making Raul’s face go pale. Then Raul looked at Sara’s glass, which had a green viscous liquid that made very slow ripples, and it smelled like beer that had been exposed to the air for a week. “What the hell is that?”

“Medicine,” Sara said. “But I’m no doctor. If you asked one of those, they’d probably call it a ‘crutch.’”

Raul smiled wryly, accepting a glass of twalla from Lilli. “Thank you.”

“Save your thanks,” Lilli said, giving him a nasty grin. “You’ll need them.”

“What does that me….” Raul shivered when he realized that the house was dead silent. He looked around and saw all the adventurers watching him like hawks, waiting for his reaction. He gulped, taking a deep breath to prepare himself.

It didn’t help.

One drink of the pirate-worthy swill made Raul choke and smack the bar, sending the house into an uproar.

Sara genuinely chuckled and rocked back her glass. Her drink was taking the edge off. The first glass always did.

“Damn. How do you drink this stuff?” Raul wiped his watering eyes.

Sara picked up a slice of purple fruit. “This’ll help. But just know that it’s the citrus version of wasabi.”

“I’ll refrain,” Raul said.

They sat in silence for a while. One minute turned into two. Two to six. Then, somewhere along the way, she finished her third double press, and Raul sighed. “That’s enough, Sara.” He lifted his mug of twalla. “This shit would numb a thigh wound. “That?” He pointed at her double press. “That’d shut down a frat house.”

Sara put down her glass and cupped her neck with her hands, leaning her elbows on the bar. “What do you want, Raul?”

“I want Sara back.”

“Me too. But that ship long since sailed.”

“When?”

“When the night terrors started.” Sara turned to Lilli. “Give me another. This man’s gone through a lot of trouble to speak to me, and I’m not talkin’ sober.”

Lilli put her hands on her hips. “You call that sober?”

Sara frowned with drooping eyes and put a golden griffin on the table.

“I guess one more couldn’t hurt,” Lilli said. Then she picked up the gold coin, bit it, and turned to the adventurers. “You’re all eatin’ for free, courtesy of this woman’s liver.” She poured a half-press as the adventurers cheered, making Sara smile. She loved Lilli.

Raul didn’t feel the same way. He grabbed Sara’s new drink, determined to drink it on her behalf. But when he took one swallow, his eyes bulged, and he coughed, immediately handing it back to her. “You’re one hell of a girl.”

Sara lifted her glass in assent and took a drink.

“Night terrors,” Raul said, wiping his mouth.

“Yeah. Specifically, the one where Emma died. The one where you died. The one where I was the only one left.” She wasn’t talking about her classmates (half of them survived… probably). But all of the members of the Hero’s party died—as well as all her friends. The people who mattered—for better and worse.

“Is that why you won’t let us help you?”

“Ye~p,” Sara smacked, lifting her glass to her lips. But suddenly, she felt sick and put it down. Lilli put bread bowls in front of her and Raul as the cooks brought out pots of chunky cream soup and bread for the others. Sara tore off a piece of the bread and chomped on it defiantly. “If you don’t get involved, you won’t die.”

“Logical,” Raul said, trying the soup. His eyes widened in surprise, and he took another bite. “So what? You’ll die for us?”

“Oh, I won’t die,” Sara said, laying her head on her forearm. “Everyone’s gonna die but me. Then I’ll be their Hero of legend. That’s what the dreams say. Spoiler alert: It feels awe~some being ‘The Hero.’ Don’t tell Jason. He’ll be jealous.”

Raul smiled wryly. “What did your… night terrors… say about him?”

“What do you think?”

He slowly put his spoon into the bread bowl.

“Exactly,” she said.

Raul’s face turned conflicted. “Sara…. You know…. You’re not acting much different than he is. You know that, right?”

Sara lifted her glass to say Ab~so~lutely! but dropped it, making it spill heinous liquid everywhere. Lilli wiped it up as she brought drinks to another table as if it were only natural.

“What about Mary?” Raul asked, pushing forward.

“Mary? Mary’s worse,” Sara giggled. “So much worse. She’d make Stalin blush.”

“That bad?”

“Probably. I skipped that elective.”

Raul finished his drink. “Whatever you’re going to do…. Is it better than what they did?”

“I think so,” Sara said. “I hope so.”

Raul grabbed a romat fruit and bit into it, coughing as tears streamed down his cheeks. “Well, in that case. I support you.” He stood up and offered his arm. “I’ll convince Emma, too.”

“Will you keep her from going?” Sara asked.

“No. She’s just as stubborn as you are. But I will keep her away from the action and protect her.”

“Really?”

“Promise.”

“You’re the be..... “ Sara eyes bulged, and she lurched forward—

Raul carried Sara to the castle on his back, guards in tow. He had spent thirty minutes rubbing her back and holding her hair in an open bathroom, but he didn’t mind it. As it turned out, Emma was right. Sara was the same girl she always was. Nothing had changed. That was comforting and gave him a genuine reason to help her, even if it’d made him drink a “double press.” God knows she was drinking for the rest of them.

Sara’s hangover would make a killer Excedrin commercial—probably. She thought that she could chew the pills until her tongue went numb, and it wouldn’t place a dent in her migraines. Part of her just wanted to die and get it over with. Another part of her wanted it to be over. And a third part of her wished it’d last forever so she wouldn’t have to remember a female servant helping her into her night clothes as Tilly and Reck heckled her with sassy reeahs. What a trainwreck.

Now, she felt like a Hollywood vampire, waiting for the sun to peek over the horizon and burn her to ash. It would be a long morning.

Groaning, she turned to Raul, who was sitting upright on a monta, putting on the bravest face imaginable. However, she knew that the moment it started trotting, he’d start puking his guts out. Twalla was one hell of a drink, but a single gulp of a half-press beat the demons at their own game.

Casting her gaze outward, she saw Jason fuming as he looked at Raul, and it sent a cold needle shooting through her brain. Raul loved her in her last life, and Jason took that as a serious betrayal, eventually leading to him executing Raul. Now, seeing the same behavior made Sara want to bash his skull in. That said, he couldn’t die. She wouldn’t let him—not on this trip. She had other plans.

Aelia rode to the line, looking at Sara and then looking away, her thoughts unreadable. “We’re heading for Lesca, a northern town on the edge of the Kent Forest. It’s a three-day ride, so prepare yourself. It won’t be pleasant.”

Sara averted her gaze and saw Emma hugging her monta’s neck from the top, whispering sweet nothings as if it didn’t look like a calcified zombie steed. It warmed her heart. Then, she looked toward the Wichita Mountains on the northern horizon, wreathed in golden clouds. It was a long journey, but they’d all leave alive this time. All of them. Every last one. With any luck, one of them would be in shackles. But alive, nonetheless.