From the transcript of the interrogation of Florian Quinn by the Academy Prime: “Sir, please. How could I possibly know if she enjoyed dancing? I didn’t even know she went dancing. Is this really relevant?”

  Dance, they did. Loud, melodic music from a live band crashed over them, the sound cleverly concentrated in the middle of the Coming Home dance floor by design, this way the dancers were able to move with reckless abandon while those looking for conversation on the outside could hear each other.

  Lane and Talia’s dancing consisted of thoroughly inappropriate touching, Talia grinding Lane’s thigh with her crotch, her arms wrapped around his neck, both of them swaying rhythmically, exchanging the occasional long kiss. __Get a room.__

  Madeline’s dancing reminded Florian of, well, her. Completely awkward, totally all encompassing, devastatingly beautiful and somehow a little angry. She smiled broadly, beckoning Florian to keep up and come closer to her when the distance between them went from ‘respectful’ to ‘strangers’. “Can you get us more bellaw?!” she shouted into his face after about a half hour, her breath still with a hint of caramel on it from the previous round.

  “What?!” Florian yelled back.

  Madeline took a deep breath and screamed. “More! Bellaw?!”

  “The bathroom is over there!” Florian screamed, pointing behind her, continuing to dance.

  She couldn’t help it, she grinned stupidly. She took his shirt in both hands, gripping tightly and moving close, her body nearly pressing against his and yelled into his ear. “Do you want more bellaw?!”

  Florian smacked his forehead. “Sure! I’ll get it!” he tapped Lane’s shoulder and mimed taking a drink and then pointed to the bar. Lane nodded, kissing Talia who emerged breathless then began dancing with Madeline, and followed Florian, taking a couple steps before adjusting his pants.

  They made it to the counter and ordered another round of bellaw from the bartender who poured them happily, telling an anecdote about his first time tasting the drink and how he wished he had the chance to make them more often. Citizens around here didn’t care for it, apparently.

  The man laughed when Florian announced his instant affection for bellaw, claiming most people couldn’t handle the rapid, extreme transformation between flavours. Florian found out that the bartender initially came to Saberwyn City to become a Death Dealer, but failed his entrance exam and declined the other offer he received. He went to drink his sorrows away at the nearest pub, requested bellaw, then the owner at the time - having never heard of the drink - asked him the ingredients and a decade later here he was.

  Florian thanked the man and took two of the drinks to an empty table overlooking the crush of dancing bodies with Lane in tow, also carrying two shots. He found Madeline dancing with Talia, though the girls sure did seem to be popular, Florian counting two men - one tall and handsome, the other short and muscular - and one woman approach the Warriors at separate times asking to dance and all this happened while Lane frantically tried to get their attention, besides.

  Talia noticed Lane and tapped Madeline’s shoulder, imitating Florian’s earlier move, and before long the four of them huddled around the table, the girls wiping beads of sweat from their brow from the dancing.

  “Does anyone know a toast?” Florian asked, gently tapping the sides of his bellaw glass.

  “I do,” Lane volunteered, grinning mischievously.

  “No you don’t,” Florian interjected, unable to keep the laughter from his voice. The bellaw had loosened them up quite nicely.

  “I do,” Talia volunteered, her grin more mischievous.

  “No you don’t,” Madeline cut off her friend with a laugh before the next word could come out.

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  “Yes I do,” Talia fake pouted. “It’s a good one! I learned it from…well, nobody,” she shifted her eyes conspiratorially toward Lane. "Come on, let me tell it."

  Madeline directed a pleading look toward Florian. "I got nothing," he offered a halfhearted shrug. "Lane's the one with the toasts. None of them are remotely appropriate but-,"

  "Hey!" Lane cut in. "The one about the Senatorum skank and the Mapelore wh-," he stopped himself. "Ah. Okay, you may have a point. Maybe you should go, Tals."

  "Yay!" Talia clapped her hands and winked at Lane. She raised a glass. "Academy Prime, your school gives me fits, I need someone to take off my shirt and bust on my-,”

  “Talia!” Madeline screeched, smacking her friend before she could finish the crude toast while Lane laughed so hard he nearly fell over and had to wipe tears from his eyes.

  “I didn’t teach her that, I swear,” he howled. “Cheers, you guys.” They clinked and downed the bellaw.

  “Back to the dance floor!” Madeline announced, pulling Talia with her by the arm who narrowly avoided running into an unsuspecting man holding two frozen mugs of a dark ale. “Sorry!” She shouted, drowned out by the loud music getting louder.

  “Talia isn’t going to last much longer before she wants to get out of here if you know what I mean. I recognize that look,” Lane said. “I sure am recognizing a lot of looks lately. Look at me go.”

  “Buddy, I always know what you mean,” Florian offered, slapping his friend on the back. “But let’s leave them for a bit, I think they need to blow off some steam tonight. If the Warriors grind as hard as we do…that last lesson almost killed me. You guys going to be good getting home?”

  “For sure, the carriages run all night. Better for me if we share one with other people so Talia can keep her hands to herself, I don’t feel like getting thrown in jail overnight for indecent exposure,” he joked. “Are you going to stick around? I mean, you can’t come with us.”

  “What? Why?”

  Lane leveled a serious expression. “Flo, I’m not risking being cockblocked by your little will-they-won’t-they act, because then Maddy is going to cry or more likely get mad and Talia is going to have to comfort her and suddenly there’s no time for little Laner to get warm and wet.”

  Florian looked over at the girls who were tearing up their spot, a blur of hands and hips and rhythm. Madeline saw him looking and waved then returned to business.

  “Fine, fine,” Florian agreed. “I’ll see if she wants to hit a food cart or something after we’re done.”

  “Owe you one, pal. What do you think about another round?”

  They ordered another round and the girls came back to the table, flush in their cheeks and giggling to each other, pointing at Lane and Florian.

  “I have to pee,” Talia announced after they took their bellaw shots, the night beginning to wind down, the Coming Home now seeing more people exit then enter. “Maddy?”

  “I don’t have to pee.” Madeline said.

  “Yes you do,” Talia said.

  “Actually you know what, now that I think about it I do have to pee,” Madeline laughed.

  “Get our cloaks,” Talia ordered sweetly in the demure way only a confident woman could, digging into her pocket to find the small slip of numbered paper that signaled her receipt at the coat check and handed it to Lane, imploring Madeline to do the same. She did.

  Madeline turned back while Talia dragged her and called for the boys to get another shot of bellaw before they left.

  “Want me to get the cloaks?” Florian asked.

  “Nah, I’ll do it. Give me your ticket. I’ve had enough of that bartender, he stares at me weird,” Lane said.

  “I like him,” Florian argued.

  “I know, that’s why I’m going to get the cloaks,” Lane teased. “Hand it over.”

  Florian handed over his ticket then brought back the four bellaw shots, waiting until Lane came back with the cloaks before clinking glasses one final time and downing the salty-sweet Grinnrock specialty.

  The foursome exited the Coming Home, allowing the cold night air to wash over them, regulating their temperature after the sticky air inside had them sweating.

  “Carriages are this way,” Talia said, crossing the street in front of another group of students who’d also had too much to drink except this group walked with a crooked gait and slurred the few words Florian caught.

  Lane raised his eyebrows at Florian.

  “Hey, Mads, do you want to come with me to one of these food carts? I’ve never actually tried one and thought you might be able to help me order.”

  “It’s easy, you just find food you like and buy it,” Madeline answered, as if anyone who needed help ordering from a food cart probably couldn’t figure out how to dress themselves.

  Talia squeaked and rolled her eyes so exaggeratedly, it made Florian think of Anik. He hoped Anik was having as much fun as he was. “He said he needs help, you tart,” she said, tone fit for educating a particularly dense toddler, not speaking to her best friend and equal.

  “Ohhhhh, right,” Madeline cottoned on. “Yes, I am hungry. Do you think they have alcohol at the food carts?”

  The four of them said their see-you-laters - Talia gripping Madeline in a big hug and whispering something into her ear - then for the first time since the night the Pure was taken from the Academy stables, Madeline Le Torneau and Florian Quinn were alone.