She followed Yurik toward the front door of the Empty Barrel, glancing at the smaller storefront beside it. A wiry, wrinkled orc whose skin was more brown than green stood inside the shop. Thick gray hair covered the sides of his face without meeting at his chin like a beard, and his yellow eyes stared at her. Cheyenne’s skin prickled, and she pulled her gaze away from the old orc to see all kinds of dried herbs and plants hanging upside down from the ceiling. A row of bottles and vials of both clear and brown glass filled the back wall behind the orc. Potions. I’ll check that out later.
“Christ, you look like a lost puppy, Cheyenne.” Bhandi laughed and waved the halfling forward as she held open the door. “We wanna get a seat, at least. This place fills up faster than you can imagine.”
“Hey, I’m just trying to soak it all in.” Cheyenne shrugged and couldn’t help but smile as she stepped through the door.
Bhandi tossed an arm around her shoulders and nudged her. “Oh, you’ll take it all in, all right. The Empty Barrel has the best grog for getting plastered quickly. Not the best taste, though, but who gives a shit, right?”
The halfling’s smile tightened, and she shrugged out from beneath the troll woman’s arm. “Sure.”
“Woah. Sorry.” Bhandi lifted her hands and stepped away as they headed toward the bar along the right wall. “Didn’t know you were so hands-off.”
“Not the hugging type.”
“Yeah, I’m pickin’ up on that.” Bhandi tossed scarlet braids back over her shoulder and shot a hand up in the air. “Hey, Ogsa!”
A huge orc woman with giant golden hoops strung one after the other up both ears nodded at Bhandi as she wiped the rim of a copper cup with a stained rag. “What do you want, Bhandi?”
“The usual. For four this time. Wait.” The troll turned quickly back toward Cheyenne and leaned in close. The halfling fought not to pull away. “You ever had fellwine?”
“Nope.”
Bhandi looked her up and down, then nodded. “Yeah, this is your lucky night. Ogsa! Add two cups of fellwine. It’s on Yurik’s tab.”
Grinning, Bhandi almost skipped down the bar toward where the other agents leaned against the chipped and sticky wood. Yurik groaned. “Are you kidding me right now? I swear, if you don’t buy the drinks next time, I’ll—”
“What?” Bhandi leaned against the bar beside him and laughed. “You’ll quit coming down here? Come on. I’m your best drinking buddy, and you know it.”
“Not if I’m paying for you every single goddamn time.”
Cheyenne leaned against the bar beside Bhandi, though she left a lot more space between her and the troll than Bhandi seemed to leave anybody when she was this worked up. She looked up at the shelf on the wall behind the bar while Yurik and Bhandi kept up their back-and-forth payment dispute, looking for alcohol she recognized. There wasn’t any. Instead of liquor bottles or a tap or even a fridge, the wide shelf was stacked with wooden barrels with spigots and unmarked brown bottles nearly as wide as they were tall. Something like a metal urn sat at the far end, and there was only one of those.
The orc bartender stepped into view, the apron around her waist damp with spilled drinks. “Not every day we see a drow in here.”
The halfling looked up at the orc’s glowing yellow eyes and the intricate gold wiring around the tips of both tusks. “How many come through here?”
The bartender raised the thick ridge of her eyebrows. “You’re the first.”
“Come on, Ogsa.” Bhandi drummed her hands on the bar. “We’ve been waiting all day for this. Don’t make us wait any longer.”
The orc eyed Cheyenne again before turning toward the off-duty agents and sticking a hand on her hip. “Do I need to cut you off already, troll?”
The buzzing energy making Bhandi pretty damn annoying petered out in seconds. She blinked and slumped her shoulders, her forearms propped on the bar. But she held the orc woman’s gaze. “No.”
“Great. Then I’ll make you wait as long as I damn well please. And then you’ll pay me for it.”
“Naw, Yurik’s gonna pay you for it.” Tate laughed and nudged the huge goblin’s muscular shoulder beneath the zig-zagging sweater. Yurik rolled his eyes but didn’t try to argue.
Ogsa turned and pulled two massive metal pitchers from a shelf beneath the wooden casks. Bhandi bounced a little where she leaned against the bar, watching the orc’s movements with eager anticipation.
Yurik shot her a frown. “You need to take a piss?”
“Fuck off.”
A minute later, Ogsa set the metal pitchers down on the bar in front of the off-duty agents. Brown-red foam spilled over the sides, and Bhandi licked her lips.
“Woah, woah, woah.” Yurik stuck an arm between the troll and the closest pitcher. “At least wait for a cup, will ya?”
The orc stared at them with a deadpan expression as she grabbed two metal tankards in each hand and thumped them down on the bar.
“Yes.” Bhandi didn’t waste any time pouring grog into the closest tankard, which went immediately to her lips. Cheyenne could hear her swallowing like she hadn’t had a thing to drink in days. The troll’s fellow agents stared at Bhandi with mixed expressions of amusement and concern.
“Not sure if I wanna pour you two cups of fellwine now,” Ogsa grumbled.
Bhandi lowered the cup with a loud sigh. She wiped the foam off her mouth with her forearm and shot Cheyenne a quick glance. “Oh, yeah. Pour the fellwine. She definitely needs one. I don’t care who gets the other. I got my grog, and I am happy.”
The tankard tilted back again as the troll guzzled more down.
“For fuck’s sake, Bhandi.” Tate leaned over the bar to peer around Yurik. “Wanna wait ‘til we get to the table?”
“Oh, come on. He wants me to wait for a cup. You want me to wait for a table. Can’t a troll drink
