Chapter 5-3

The apartment buildings of north side Nariev stretched up on rickety foundations, floors haphazardly and unevenly built atop each other. From a distance, they looked like broken fingers poking into the sky. Up close, they looked like they might collapse at any moment.

“And he lives here,” muttered Leonas. He checked the songbird message again, and confirmed the address. He shrugged and began climbing the stairs all the way up to the seventh floor. Leonas wasn’t out of shape, but he was panting by the time he reached the end and knocked on door 709.

The man who answered it was thin and willowy, with long brown hair and soft features that had made the other kids tease him about looking like a girl. His clothes probably cost more than his apartment. The man blinked and then smiled. “Leonas! Good to see you.”

Leonas smiled. “Good to see you too, Pericen. How goes it?”

“It doesn’t completely suck,” he said with a grin, motioning to let Leonas in. His apartment was sparsely decorated, but there were two chairs that they sat down on. “I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer you in the way of refreshments.”

“Ah, so you’re the classical starving artist, are you?”

“I’ll have you know I am neither starving nor an artist,” said Pericen with a sense of pride. “If you saw any of my plays, you’d understand.”

Leonas chuckled. “Still turning out... oh what was the word... ‘commercial crap to make a buck?’”

“People tell me it’s not so, but no truly great artist would be able to afford an apartment in Nariev,” said Pericen.

A tall man emerged from what must have been a bedroom. His black hair was unkempt, stubble cropped up sporatically on his face, and his clothes, while indiviudally fashionable, were worn in a random patchwork. The man yawned before casually walking up to Pericen and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Who’s this, Per?”

“Old friend, from back in Haversham,” chirped Pericen. “In town on some sort of quest. Blake, this is Leonas, who once had to act out my crappy adolescent plays. Leonas, this is Blake, my better half.”

Leonas felt a pang of jealousy that caught him off guard. “Nice to meet you.” He offered a hand, which Blake shook entirely too vigorously.

“So, last I heard you were going to study magic,” said Pericen. “What happened with that?”

“I graduated. You’re talking to a fully-certified first-circle mage,” said Leonas without any particular pride. “I didn’t like any of my options from there though, so I went back to lying for a living.”

“Acting? If you’re looking for work, I know many people who are looking for—“

“No, the much more profitable profession of a conman,” said Leonas.

Pericen laughed, before he realized that Leonas was serious. “Well, that’s one way to make a buck. So what brings you to this hole in the wall?”

“Anjanette somehow convinced me to go on this quest for a bunch of old books or something,” said Leonas. “Not really my thing, but there’s a lot of money in it, so I went along with it.”

Leonas fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. This had been a bad idea. He and Pericen were lovers, back in those awkward adolescent days. He couldn’t see why he had been so attracted to him now, other than the self-righteous passion of first love and the thrill of what had been taboo. He was gratingly modest, ineffectual and far too wrapped up in his art. And yet the presence of Blake had sent him into a spiral of longing that he had been sure he had matured out of.

“You’re working with Anjanette? How is she?”

“About the same as she ever is,” said Leonas.

Pericen grinned, nostalgia in his eyes. “Still the baby of the group? Still doesn’t know it?”

“More or less, but we seem to have picked up a new baby, so that may change,” replied Leonas. He felt hemmed in, Blake’s silent observation making him feel on display. “Anyway, I would love to stay, but I have to look for this book. It was nice seeing you again.”

“The same here,” said Pericen. “If you’re in town on this Nonidi, you should come see my play, ‘Two Knights Short of a Roundtable’. I’ve been told it’s not terrible, and it would line an old friend’s pockets.”

“I will consider it,” said Leonas, before hurrying out of the apartment.

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