Conversation at the Troll and Harpy

“Do I know you?” Lubic asked, looking the woman over. She seemed somehow familiar, but he was certain he’d never met her before in his life.

“My name is Mikala. I just need a moment of your time.”

Lubic looked helplessly at his brother. He knew their grandmother would be upset if they were late, especially if they were talking to a blonde; Mary absolutely hated blonde women. She had been a bitter woman since their father had died decades earlier, and was only happy when things went her way. Ryan nodded to Lubic and excused himself. He understood and would head to Lubic’s house and make some excuses for his younger brother.

Mikala guided Lubic over to a booth in the corner of the bar. She lowered herself gracefully into the booth, back to the wall, her green eyes scanning the other patrons. If anyone seemed interested in their talk, she would make it more private, but for now she was content to leave things as they were.

Lubic glanced around before he sat down opposite her. He heard a lone man, clad much as his brother had been in a suit with loosened tie, order a Mai Tai from the bar. He could also hear a couple giggling from a gaudy orange booth near the front door. The Troll and Harpy was depressingly empty right around dinner time, when many of the patrons cleared out to spend some time with their families. Just like where I should be, he thought.

He heard a brief commotion from the back room behind the bar. No doubt the owner was getting another earful from his wife. Lubic and Ryan had spent many a night at their table, another of the gaudy orange booths, debating how the bar had gotten its name; Lubic was convinced that it was named after the owner’s wife, who had a voice like a banshee, and nagged her husband all day every day. He was also reasonably sure she was responsible for the colour scheme that ran throughout the building.

“I’ve heard that you recently made detective,” Mikala began, by way of breaking the ice. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Lubic replied. “So now, would you mind telling me who you are and how the heck you know me?”

“This may seem somewhat strange to you, but I swear that everything I say is true. I will try to speed things up, and just tell you what is relevant to you right now. There is time for the rest later.”

“I’m waiting.”

“About thirty years ago, a man died. But he wasn’t just any man: he was the Starlord of humanity. It was his job to watch over the humans, and to –”

“Look lady, I’m sort of in a hurry and I don’t have time for this nonsense. I’m sure that guy,” Lubic pointed at the gentleman seated at the bar, “would love to hear your sob story about some ‘master of humanity’ dying. Good luck with that.”

And Lubic got up and walked out of the Troll and Harpy.

Oh dear, thought Mikala, that went a whole lot worse than I thought it would.