Page 109 of Dark Shaman: The Lost Treasure
"All of it." Tony rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. "The flood. The evacuation. Being stuck here while Tula's trapped in that modernist nightmare. Having to pretend we're nothing to each other while servants gawk at us like we're zoo animals."
"It won't last forever," Eluheed said, though the words felt hollow. How many times had he told himself the same thing about his own situation? Just a little longer. Just until he could find a way out. Just until...
"Won't it?" Tony sat up. "You know what I've learned? Nothing changes in Navuh's world unless he wants it to. And he likes his toys exactly where he puts them."
Eluheed tensed, and he glared at Tony, lifting his finger and pointing toward the ceiling. "Watch what you say in here."
Tony's eyes widened. "Right. I forgot about that."
"I'm going to explore the hotel," Eluheed said. "Get the lay of the land so to speak."
"Knock yourself out." Tony flopped back down. "I'm going to lie here and contemplate the meaninglessness of existence until I fall asleep."
"Enjoy."
Eluheed was exhausted, but he was also still wound up, and he needed to release some tension before he could sleep.
He left Tony to his sulking and headed back to the elevators. As he waited, it occurred to him that it was strange that Navuh hadn't kept him at the mansion. After all, the whole point of placing him in the harem had been to keep him away from the lord's sons and generals who might try to use his abilities against Navuh.
But perhaps keeping up appearances mattered more.
Everyone had been compelled to secrecy about the true nature of the harem and its inhabitants. As far as the household staff knew, 'Elias' was just a spiritual advisor, a shaman who provided guidance and herbal remedies. It gave Navuh an excuse to summon him whenever he wished while maintaining the fiction.
Once the elevator arrived, Eluheed entered and rode it down to the lobby. He remembered seeing a bar when they'd arrived, and he headed in that direction.
He needed a drink. Maybe several. The last twenty-four hours had been a blur of adrenaline and desperation, and now that the immediate crisis had passed, his body was demanding some form of chemical comfort.
The bar was exactly what he'd expect from a place like this—all dark wood and leather, dim lighting that made everyone look mysterious, bottles of liquor that cost more than most people could ever afford. What surprised him was how empty it was. Only one man sat at the bar, slouched on a stool like he'd been there for hours.
Eluheed took a seat a few stools down, catching the bartender's eye. "Whiskey, please. Whatever you recommend."
"Certainly, sir. Will you be charging it to your room?"
He'd forgotten about that. "Yes. Room..."
He and Tony had been told that they could charge whatever they pleased to the room, and it would be covered, but he realized that he didn't know the number.
"Elias, correct?" the bartender said smoothly.
"Yes. How did you know?"
The barman smiled mysteriously. "It's my job to know." He tapped on the screen. "You are in room 323."
"Thank you. I'll remember that."
Eluheed tried not to think about what the bartender meant when he'd said that it was his job to know. Had the hotel staff been given instructions to watch him and Tony?
Probably.
"Finally," the man a few stools down said loudly. "Someone who doesn't look like an inbred cretin."
That was an odd comment.
Eluheed glanced over at the man. Asian features, expensive casual wear that screamed designer labels, thick glasses that gave him an owlish appearance. He was clearly drunk or at least well on his way there.
"Rough afternoon?" Eluheed asked politely, hoping the man would take the hint and leave him alone.
Instead, the stranger picked up his drink and moved to the stool directly next to Eluheed. The smell of alcohol wafted off him in waves.
