Ethereal

Chapter 27: Jealousy and Liquor

I had never been to a tavern before, and whatever I had expected it be like was nowhere near the real deal.

Beyond the marketplace there was an open courtyard with long, sun bleached tree logs set out around metal barrels with contents that had been set aflame to help light up the open area once the sun set and the darkness closed in.

Men and women alike either crowded around the barrels or were stayed close to a cloth tent where a group of people rushed back and forth pouring drinks into clay cups, taking coins and accepting food in exchange for the liquor.

I spotted Stew waving at me from the far side of the courtyard, sitting next to Carlo on a log as they stared into the fire. The rest of the crew were scattered around the courtyard. Some of them were drinking heavily, their voices loud bellows that mixed in with the other drunk Camper's as they began their nights early. Others proved to be more reserved, like Stew and Carlo, and lingered on the edges of the courtyard, speaking only to people they already knew.

"How was ya day of explorin'?" Stew asked once I sat down.

I shrugged, trying not to let my disappointment and frustration show as I was no closer to finding my family. There was also the matter of Jax and the child he was with, and I couldn't even begin to think about what all of that could mean. I couldn't even sort out my own emotions – was I still upset with Jax? Had I forgiven him? Was I jealous of the idea of him having a secret lover here at Camp? I wanted to say yes to all of it.

"Camp is just as gross as I remember it." I said finally after a moment of careful deliberation.

Stew laughed heartily, tilting his head back as he took a shot of something in his cup. I watched as his throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed, then he shook his head as though he were trying to rid the taste out of his mouth. He looked back at me, his eyes brighter than they were before, and offered me a cup. I shook my head and gave him a weak chuckle.

The Matrons had never allowed the orphanage to keep alcohol, besides a few wines that they used to cook with. When I was younger, there were rumors that the older girls would sneak out at night and go to one of the neighboring villages to drink and would return to the orphanage the next morning, slurring their words and tripping over their feet. I needed to stay sharp if I was going to find my family.

"Ah, come on now." Stew said, holding out the cup again. I peered into the cup and saw it filled with a clear liquid that smelled like rubbing alcohol. I wrinkled my nose, and Stew laughed again.

"You don't drink it for the smell, miss." He said.

"You don't drink it for the taste either," said Carlo, tipping back his own drink as his eyes swiveled over to me. "just try a sip there, Nor, and he won't bug you for the rest of the night. Unless they start playing music, then he'll never leave you alone." He groaned as though he had all too much experience in that area.

I looked from the clay cup to Stew's expectant face, hesitating before taking the cup out of his hands. Stew hollered loudly in victory, drawing several pairs of eyes onto us. I tried not to pay attention.

Before I could chicken out and try to hand the drink back, I plugged my nose and threw my head backwards as I downed the shot of liquor. It sparked a trail of fire that started from the back of my throat and didn't stop until it settled into my stomach, where the heat paused before slowly seeped through the rest of my body. I felt my muscles relax and my skin tingle from the rush – I was starting to understand why people drank this stuff.

"Atta girl!" Stew said, clapping me on the back so hard I nearly fell off the log. Carlo raised his cup to me as a salute before he swallowed another shot himself. The sun had set fully by now, making the firelight glow brightly in the air around us. There were enough barrels in the courtyard to make out the faces of the crew even from a distance.