Emerging from the bathroom I found Jefferson by the bar. Approaching him with a false smile I inquired, “Tired?”
“Not at all lass, just thought I’d get a pick-me-up seeing as I’m ahead of schedule.” He studied my face to see that it was free of solidified lava.
“Weren’t you up all night?”
“Indeed, but no rest for the wicked, eh?” He gave a toothy grin, showing two rows of browned teeth.
“Isn’t that a bit dangerous?” I raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t sleep.” He said gruffly.
“You don’t sleep?” I repeated, “Ever?”
“Course not!” He said waving his hand abruptly in the air like it was common news, “Why sleep? It wastes so much time. Time that could be used for travelling! Meeting deadlines!”
I couldn’t understand what this man was trying to say. Everyone had to sleep at some point. Surely … couldn’t someone die from lack of sleep?
“Aren’t you tired?” I pressed on, as he ordered a drink from the bar man.
“Nope. Never. Not once. Not in my entire life.”
“Wait just a second,” I paused, eyeing him sceptically, “You’re telling me that not once in your entire life, have you ever felt tired? Not once in your entire life have you lay down, closed your eyes, and gone to sleep?”
“Are you slow or something lass?” He paused and looked at me as though I had suffered from some kind of brain haemorrhage.
Blinking away the insult, I continued, “No … I just didn’t know, that’s all.”
The tavern smelled of beer and men. Lots of men. Looking around wearily I noticed that I was the only female that occupied the Tavern. I could count at least thirty men spaced around the room, all of which were holding a pint in their grubby hands. I gave a shudder and kept as close to Jefferson as possible. The hearty chatter that occupied the Inn was harmless enough, but I couldn’t help but get the feeling that several pairs of eyes were watching me. Several old male eyes at that. Males that probably had too much beer in their systems. Males that had probably never seen an eighteen year old female in their midst. I gulped and kept my eyes on my feet, but not before I noticed a large man with an enormous beard wink at me from across the room. I scowled to myself and decided to ignore it, though I felt my skin begin to heat up.
“I suppose I’m not surprised.” Jefferson gruffed, “What with you being so unsociable. It’s a rare thing to see you emerge from your little cottage Avalon Redding.”
“Yes, well, I think it’s better that way.” I huffed, folding my arms across my chest.
Jefferson gave a shrug, “Maybe,” He grasped the pint that was handed to him, and flipped a coin onto the counter. He began chugging away at the beer, and when he surfaced for air almost half of it was gone. He turned to face me, “But a bit of fresh air every now and then couldn’t hurt anyone.”
I pursed my lips, not wanting to get onto the subject of my Power, or the reason I kept away from the general public. I leant against the bar while I waited for Jefferson to finish his drink, but he continued talking.
“It really is surprising though.” He began, “Everyone in Mortlock knows my Power. Hell, I’ve been around long enough; most people usually catch on pretty quickly. I’ve known your family a while Avalon, and you’re telling me that you didn’t know I was incapable of sleeping?”
I rolled my eyes, “I’m not familiar with most people’s Powers.” My face flushed a deep scarlet.
“Ah. My Power comes in useful for my job. I’m quick at delivering, as I don’t need to make pit-stops to sleep, see? I used to be a guard, back in my younger days.” He added, “Would stand guard over the Power-Seer’s doors, and never get tired.” His face looked somewhat smug, but I had no idea what a Power-Seer was.
He huffed and began drinking again. I was vaguely aware of the fact that the wood beneath my arms was starting to smoke.
“Oi!” The bartender snapped at me, “Get your ‘ands off there!” He shooed me away from the bar with a wave of his hand. I jumped back, muttering sorry as I realised that I had left a scorch mark across the bar, in the perfect shape of my arms as I had leant on it.
Jefferson drank the last swig of his ale before putting the pint back on the bar, “I think that’s our queue to leave.” He gave a hearty laugh as we made our way towards the door.
Once outside I breathed in the fresh air, glad to be away from the stench of stale beer and unwashed men.
“Jefferson, can I ask what’s in that crate? The one on the seat, with air holes?” I inquired as we approached the carriage.
“That?” He said pointing at the box I meant through the window. Seeing my nod he rolled his eyes, “Ah, just a delivery I need to make to someone important in Frost Arch. That little bugger will be sold for quite a price. No one knows how he came about, see. A lot of high up people interesting in the little thing.”