Darrak nodded knowingly. "Stomach aches. Common in a pub, though usually for those that are more heavy on the drinks. All right, bring her in." He moved aside and Monnayage stepped past him into the room.
It was spacious as far as offices went, able to hold ten people easily. The first thing that always caught his eye upon entering was the large black banner with an iron-colored sea-gryphon sewn on its front. It hung on the wall behind a medium-sized writing desk whose contents lay scattered all over its surface.
A make-shift bed took up the back left corner--probably where Darrak slept. This was where Monnayage had been asked to sit during his healing, and this is where he set Dorothea.
"Out of the way, Monnayage. Out of the way. Upset stomachs aren't difficult, but you will have to move back."
Seeking a source of reprieve from his frustration and tension, Monnayage scooped Maneki up off the floor and began to pet her as he moved over toward the desk.
<We can leave her here,> Maneki suggested. Then, apparently noticing how bothered he was, batted her head against his hand and added, <Darrak says she'll be fine.>
"Sir."
Monnayage looked up, not realizing he'd been staring at the floor. The bartender stood in the doorway.
"Will you still be wanting those two juices?"
Juices?
<Tell him yes.>
"Oh, uh. Yes, please." He'd forgotten about the drinks. "Make it one instead of two, though."
When the man stepped out of view, Monnayage looked around.
"Healing doesn't hurt at all," Darrak was saying. "It might tickle a bit, but that's nothing to be worried about. And, as I told Monnayage earlier, you might feel a bit giddy afterward. It'll wear off after a few minutes." He held his hands over Dorothea. "Are you ready?"
This was not how Monnayage had planned his afternoon. In his mind, it had involved more . . . happiness. Less drama. He was beginning to suspect this girl to be a bit crazy, which was just his luck.
