Nightside 05 - Paths Not Taken

spot...
    "Let's buy the man a drink," I said.
    "Couldn't hurt," said Suzie.
    "Let's buy him lots of drinks," said Tommy. "And I think I could force down a few myself."
    We made our way to the bar at the back of the room. It was the exact same long wooden bar from our time, though the assortment of drinks set out behind it looked to be far more limited. And the nearest thing they had to bar snacks were rats impaled on sticks. A few of them were still twitching, even though they'd been doused in melted cheese. Serving behind the bar was a sweet dreamy girl in a faded Roman-style dress. She had long dark hair, huge eyes, and a winning smile.
    'That's a really first-class glamour you're wearing," she said cheerfully. "Would probably have fooled anybody else, but I've been touched by divinity. Frequently. Not from around here, are you, dears?"
    "No," I said. "We've travellers, from the future."
    "Gosh," said the barmaid. "How exciting! What's it like?"
    "Noisy," I said. "And a bit faster paced, but otherwise pretty much the same."
    "Well there's a relief," said the barmaid. "Why not have a whole bunch of drinks? Don't worry if you're supposed to be in disguise; I only saw through your glamour because I'm sort of godly. I'm Hebe. I used to be cup-bearer to the old Roman gods, until their faith base declined along with the Empire, and they decided to move on to pastures new. Didn't offer to take me with them, the ungrateful bastards. I decided I was too young to retire from the booze-slinging business, so I took over this place, and now I dispense good cheer to one and all. Go on, dears, get a little bit that way. Good booze is good for the soul. Trust me; I know these things."
    I glanced around and confirmed that all three of us were willing enough to experiment in that direction, but unfortunately it turned out that the bar's stock consisted almost entirely of various forms of wine and mead. We sampled a fair selection of both, in the spirit of scientific enquiry, but the wines were all thin and bitter, and the meads were all thick and sweet. Often with bits floating in them. We pulled various faces and made thoughtful noises, but Hebe wasn't fooled.
    "Booze is better in the future?"
    "Let's say... more extreme. Is this really all you have?"
    "Well," said Hebe, "I do stock a few special items, for the discerning customer with an educated palate and more money than sense. Winter Wine, Bacchus's Old Peculier, and Angel's Tears. Merlin's really fond of that one."
    "The very stuff," I said. "One bottle of Angel's Tears, if you please."
    It was only when she started rummaging for a bottle under the bar that it suddenly occurred to me to wonder how I was going to pay for it, along with all the other drinks we'd already consumed. Whatever they used for currency in the sixth century, I sure as hell hadn't brought any with me. I stuck my hands in my coat pockets, out of habit, and to my surprise discovered a heavy bag of coins I certainly hadn't put there. I pulled out the leather bag and opened the drawstrings, and blinked stupidly at a whole mess of gold and silver coins.
    "Now that's impressive," said Suzie. "What did you do, pick someone's pocket at the Londinium Club?"
    "Didn't think of that," I said. "But luckily, it seems Old Father Time thinks of everything."
    I offered Hebe one of the larger gold coins, and she bit it expertly between her back teeth before accepting it with a smile. In return I received a slender glass phial of a pale blue liquor and absolutely no change. Bright sparks of light sputtered on and off in the slowly stirring liquor.
    "Angel's Tears," said Hebe, wrinkling her adorably pert nose. "Awful stuff. It's only drinkable for a short period, then it goes off, and we have to bury it in consecrated ground."
    "I want to try some of that," said Suzie.
    "No you don't," I said very firmly. "This is for Merlin." I looked at Hebe. "What's his current state of mind?"
    "Dangerous," said Hebe. "I don't think he's said half a dozen words to anyone since the King died. He's been here drinking for three solid weeks now. Doesn't eat, doesn't sleep. No-one bothers him, because if they do, he turns them into ... things."
    "What kind of things?" Tommy said warily.
    "I'm not sure if they have a name or designation, as such," Hebe said judiciously. "But whatever they are, they don't look at all happy about being it. If I had to describe them, I'd say ... ambulatory snot creatures."
    "Maybe you'd better talk to Merlin