I swear to the Gods, I didn’t know how that child put his shoes on in the morning. After a lengthily ordeal with figuring out the planes, we finally got to Wales. I had suggested going our separate ways earlier, but Ethan had insisted on coming with me, and then he'd go find Erik. I watched the damned fool struggle with a bag of peanuts for almost two hours during the flight. He had dedication, I’ll give him that. But not a damn brain cell in his big stupid head. Just like Erik; all beef, no brains.

  “Do you know where the washroom is?” Ethan whined at me as we made our way down a quite village street.

  “Ethan, how would I know where the washroom is, in a town in Wales, that I’ve never been to before?” I said, grinding teeth. He had persistently asked stupid questions the entire trip, when he wasn't staring sadly out the window and jumping at his own shadow. I was worried that dying had given him brain damage.

  “I dunno, maybe a sign somewhere.” He shrugged, like he was unsure of why I snapped at him. What a dunce.

  “I don’t know Ethan, do you see a sign?” I hissed. I contemplated telling him to go play in traffic, but I was suddenly scared he’d actually do it. The ensuing bitch-fit from his sister wouldn’t be worth it.

  “Oh look, I found the sign. Thanks Kalysta.” He said before taking off to a public washroom. I threw my hands in the air and let out a scream that was as loud as was socially acceptable in a small village.

  I could leave him here, I thought to myself. I could go look for Chase, and he could just wander off and find his way to Erik. I was sure he’d figure it out eventually. I moved slowly towards the street, where I saw an old fashioned taxi coming. All I'd have to do is flag it down and get in, and he’d never be able to find me. I looked to the washroom door and sighed. The taxi whizzed past me and I sigh a little heavier.

  I decided I would need to partake in alcohol if I was going to continue to put up with Ethan. When he exited the washroom, I motioned for him to follow me down the road, where I spotted what appeared to be a local dive bar. It had a quaint little sign hanging outside that said something in a language I couldn't read.

  “I’m not old enough to drink here, I think.” Ethan stopped at the door. I took a deep breath and counted to three before turning to face him.

  “Ethan, what do you think the legal drinking age is here?” I asked, knowing the answer would piss me off anyway.

  “I dunno. I just don't wanna be rude and break any laws here. We're guests." He said softly, sensing my rising anger.

  “The bartender isn’t going to know or care what your age is. Worse case, you get ID'd, you show him your passport and we move on." I tried explaining without too much venom in my voice.

  "Do what you'd like, I need a drink.” I told his dumb face as I left him outside.

  There was a blissful moment where I was by myself, standing just inside the bar. I could see the old style pub stools and made my way over, letting the ambience wash over me, until Ethan followed me inside.

  “Kalysta wait for me!”

  “Ethan, go catch a car with your face.” I muttered under my breath.

  “What’s that?” He smiled, as he caught up beside me.

  “Nothing. Beer?” I offered, climbing onto a stool. He mounted his own, with all the grace of deer in the back of a pick-up truck. I was convinced he would fall off.

  “Ew. I don’t like beer.” He said, just as the scruffy looking bartender came over. He eyed us suspiciously and asked what he could get us, as well as our ID's.

  “Oh man, no one’s asked me for my ID in so long. Musta been because I shaved, eh Kalysta?” Ethan nudged me with his elbow, and winked. An exaggerated movement that the bartender saw. He rolled his eyes at us. Before he can get us sodas, or kick us out, I spoke up.

  “Sorry about him. My little brother hasn’t been the same since he hit his head. Damn car came outta know where. His head bounced like a melon.” I told him, shaking Ethan's head gently. I put an arm around him lovingly pulling him close. Ethan gawked at me, mouth open and I smiled and patted his head.

  "Dumb as a brick now." I stage-whispered.

  “Poor guy. What can I get ya buddy?” He offered, waving at Ethan like he was an invalid. I stifled my laughter as Ethan became perturbed.

  “Just a rum and Coke is fine.” He requested, confused and agitated. The bartender gave him a big smile and a thumbs up, then looked at me.

  “You’re finest Scotch please.”

  He looked at me like I was joking and was about to protest until I pulled a huge wad of American bills from my clutch. His eyes lit up and he disappeared into a back room for a moment. He returned with Ethan’s drink and set a bottle of shimmering amber liquid in front of me.

  “You sure you’re gonna be able to drink all that yourself?” He asked. I shrugged and poured myself a triple, then put it back in one swift motion. He looked impressed and maybe a little appalled and walked away to serve other customers.

  “Wait, is this just cola?” Ethan looked up, disappointed as the straw slipped from his silly little mouth.

  After polishing off a good portion of the bottle and Ethan complaining that he was still only getting cola, many drinks in, I decided now was a good time to ask questions. You know, good ol' 'ask the barkeep about rumors' thing.

  “Hey barkeep!" I yelled much too loudly. "You see a weird looking blonde guy come through here? Old enough to be my dad. Kinda looks like Kurt Cobain.” I managed to stumble out. He looked at me like I was speaking a different language, so I repeated myself, but tried harder to enunciate.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “Nope, can’t say I've seen anyone like that. But I think you better stop drinking though.” He went to reach for my bottle, so I put my hand on it and glared at him. Or at least, I tried to. I'm pretty sure one of my eyes rolled into the back of my head.

  “Come to think of it, that guy down at the end of the bar was talking about something with a guy like that.” He says, pointing down the bar. I watched as he slowly used his other hand to take the bottle away, when I gawked down the bar. When I stood up to go towards the guy, I stumbled, and the barkeep quickly pulled my bottle off the counter.

  “Kalysta, are you ok?” Ethan asked, way to sober.

  “Shut up Ethan.” I stammered, turning briefly to flash him a bright smile. He thought I was kidding and chuckled to himself.

  I wandered down the bar, one hand groping for something to steady myself, to the muscle bound jerk at the end of the bar, talking to a group of other patrons.

  “Hey guy, you seen my buddy?” The question was driven home with a belch that would have made a sailor proud. “About your height, but not addicted to steroids. He had a shaggy mess of hair. Kinda looks like he hasn’t slept in a century?”

  He turned to fully look me up and down, clearly checking me out and his girlfriend gave him a swat.

  "You a cop?" He asked. It wasn't a threat, but a sincere question.

  "Do I look like a cop to you?" I barked out. He looked at me again, like he was seeing me for the first time and cringed.

  “You mean the guy from the hill? Yea, I saw him.” He swallowed hard and looked around the room nervously. His group of listeners seemed to disperse into the room.

  “Uh, how would I know if he was the guy from the hill? Does he sound like the guy from the hill?” I tried to make a gesture of some variety but my arms flopped around like Jell-O dessert. I think I still made my point though.

  “Stop looking for him. I left the damn bastard on the hill. He...he shot himself.” He stammered out. His face was pale.

  “Shot himself? That doesn’t sound right. Did you hurt him?” I pointed accusingly at him, while I wobbled back and forth.

  “He smashed his bike into my car. I just wanted to rough him up a bit. I didn’t shoot him. I didn’t want him to die.” He looked generally distraught. But his story didn't quite register in my head. Chase couldn't die. Could he?

  “Where did you leave him on this hill?” I asked, belching again. His female companion gave me directions while he stared sorrowfully into his drink. I began to wonder if maybe I was on the wrong trail. But it wasn't far from here, and upon pulling up Orion's hacked locator, it matched up with where Chase's phone was. Did that mean...?

  “Come Ethan, off to find Chase!” I declared, rushing past my seat, while bumping into literally everything.

  “Are you sure you’re…”

  “Shut up Ethan!” I shouted back at him as I pushed my way out the door. I heard him clamor off the stool and follow me out.

  "Kalysta, you're plastered. We can't go looking for Chase like this." He whined. I spun on him, pointing in his face.

  "I'm not as think as you drunk I am." I exclaimed, poking his chest. I watched his normally dumb looking face drop to a more serious visage.

  "I've dealt with enough drunk friends to know you're not okay." He looked around the village. "I can probably find us a hostel or inn somewhere here. We can go look for him in the morning when you sober up."

  I stared at him, seeing him as a completely different person. Suddenly he was responsible, and serious, but only out of necessity. I was both stunned and impressed, so I just continued to stare at him. Until I threw up on the side of the road.

  "Gross." Ethan muttered as he came to my side. He quickly pulled my hair back and rubbed my back as I continued to vomit.

  "You've clearly done this before." I said when I finished retching.

  "I have a sister with very...big emotions." He told me. I nodded, wiping my mouth on the back of my sleeve.

  "Are you good now?" He asked, slowly letting my hair go. I nodded again, and he backed up entirely. I watched as an old woman walked passed us, glaring.

  "Hi, sorry about that!" Ethan offered. The woman grimaced and shuffled along faster.

  "Friendly folk." He said, shrugging.

  "I think your idea to get a place to stay for the night is a good idea." I told him, putting a hand on his arm. He gave me his big goofy smile.

  "I'll try and find us a place." He suggested, but I shook my head.

  "We can just find something and book online. We don't have to go door to door looking for room in the manger." I told him, steadying myself.

  "Oh, right."

  And suddenly it was gone. Whatever that moment of protectiveness was, was gone in an instant. The serious expression left his face, and he looked lost again. Like he was only half paying attention. There had to be something more too it.

  After booking an Airbnb, we settled into a cozy, cottage style house, overlooking the luscious hills of the countryside. I sat down hard on the small bed, and stared out the window. Chase was out there somewhere, the tracker in his phone still hadn't moved. If what the guy in the bar said was true, Chase was...

  I tried not to think about it. I knew, from our long talks, that his Artifact gave him some kind of longevity or immortality. He always seemed more interested in what I had to say, then telling me about himself, which was weird for a man. He was a good listener, and attentive. Honestly, if he wasn't so old...

  "Do you feel better after your shower? You still look kinda green." Ethan said, stepping out of the washroom. He wore only his towel, wrapped around his waisted, revealing way more of him than I had ever intended on seeing. Not that Ethan was unattractive. It was more the fact that he had the body of an athlete and a mind that didn't seem to match. Too child-like.

  "Dude, clothes!" I shouted, covering my eyes in mock modesty. He gasped and gathered his pile of clothes, rushing back to the washroom.

  "My bad!" He called out.

  "And yes, I'm feeling better. Thank you." I couldn't help but chuckle. He was annoying, certainly. But there was a lot of redeeming qualities there. You just had to get through all the...dumb.

  "Oh, that's good. I was worried when you ordered that whole bottle. I've never seen anyone drink that much before. Except for Orion, that one time." Ethan prattled on from the washroom. I stared out the window as he recanted some story about his friends. Part of me wished I could call them that too. Aside from Erik, I hadn't really spent any time with them in a recreational capacity. It was always work, work, work. Always a tragedy, always a monster. But I wanted to be part of it, somewhere inside of me. But the part of me that didn't was so deeply rooted in fear, it was hard to open up. My was part of a team once; friends with everyone. And she was still murdered by someone close to her. Someone with a rogue Artifact. Someone she had trusted to have her back.

  "Are you sure you're okay?" Ethan asked, emerging from the washroom clothed. I quickly wiped the tear forming at the corner of my eye and turned to face the window further.

  "I'm great, thanks for asking." I lied.

  "You know, you can talk to me if something is up right?" He said, sitting gingerly on the single bed across from mine.

  "Thanks." I mumbled. I just wanted him to leave me alone. The more he attempted to be soothing and helpful, the more likely I was to break. I wasn't lonely. I wasn't angry. I didn't need a shoulder to cry on. I just wanted to find Chase, and go back home.

  "Make sure to get some rest. I have a feeling we have a lot of walking to do tomorrow." Ethan said, rolling over. His heavy breathing quickly became snoring. I was astonished at how quickly he passed out.

  In the morning, I'd set off and find Chase. He knew more about my mother's death than either him or Anders let on. I stowed away any other emotions I was feeling, and focused on that rage. It was easier to feel than anything else.