The pixels behind the counter filtered themselves as the blue-haired woman entered Eyas’ answers. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I’ve got eight guys free this evening who fit the bill. Would you like to go through the list, or—’

Eyas realised, in that moment, that she didn’t want to make any more decisions. She hadn’t thought about it when she’d headed out for the Ratri, but she was tired, tired in a quiet way that had become an everyday thing for reasons she couldn’t point to. The tenday hadn’t been bad, but it had been long, and she’d grown weary of decisions. ‘Surprise me,’ she said. She paused in thought. ‘Whoever you think the nicest of them is.’

‘Ha! You’re going to get me in trouble.’ The woman tapped her lips, then made a definitive gesture at the pixels. ‘All right, you’ll be in room fourteen. Your host will be there in about twenty minutes. You’re welcome to wait in there, or you can relax in the lounge. If you feel the need to clean up, there are showers to the right of the bar. You’re welcome to go there with your host as well. If you don’t go straight to your room, we’ll call you when it’s time.’ She gave Eyas an amused smile. ‘And do not tell him how I picked him, or I will never hear the end of it.’ Eyas thanked her, and walked on through. The lounge was inviting, and the aforementioned bar was laden with colourful bottles of kick, a menu of snacks, and short, clear jars displaying varieties of redreed and smash. Another time, she would’ve treated herself to something spicy to snack on and something sweet to drink. She would’ve chatted with the bartender, contemplated the clientele (which, as always, was as varied as varied could be), maybe played a round of flash with someone else waiting their turn. But Eyas looked at the crowd, and all she wanted was to be behind a door.

She found room fourteen, waved her wristwrap over the lock, and entered. Just the sight of the room felt like she’d taken a sip of water after several hours without. Everything looked soft – the bed, the couch, even the table, somehow. There was a thumpbox for music, a chill box for drinks, a storage compartment full of other things the host could introduce if desired. All clean, all inviting. All for her.

She sat down on the couch, closed her eyes, and let twenty minutes slip by. She barely felt them.

There was a soft chime at the door before it opened. A man entered, carrying a bottle of something amber brown. He was tall, but not too tall. Fit, but not too fit. His hair was thick and his eyes were kind. ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘I’m Sunny.’

Of course you are, Eyas thought. ‘I’m Eyas.’

‘Eyas,’ he repeated, the door closing behind him. ‘I haven’t heard that one before.’

Her mouth gave a scrunch as it prepared to offer an explanation given a million times. ‘It’s an old word for a hawk.’

Sunny leaned against the bedframe. ‘What’s a hawk?’

‘Earthen bird. Bird of prey, apparently. Very striking, very fast. My mother’ – she tried to find a tactful way to explain the most incongruous person in her life – ‘she’s a romantic.’

‘Clearly. That’s a poetic name.’

‘Yes. Granted, she didn’t dig deep enough into the language files to figure out that an eyas is a baby hawk, not a hawk hawk. So, I’m a scruffy baby bird that hasn’t learned to fly. Not the best sentiment to carry around as an adult.’

Sunny laughed. ‘You’re not the only one with a name like that. I know a guy named Walrus.’

‘I don’t know what that is.’

‘You know what a wolf is?’

Eyas thought back to school trips to the Archives. ‘It’s a . . . oh, I know this.’ She frowned, rifling through neurons that hadn’t been needed in a while. ‘Some kind of carnivore, right? Or am I thinking of something else?’

‘No, you’re right. Like a wild dog. Beautiful, powerful, all that good stuff. That’s what his parents were going for. Only, they got mixed up and didn’t double-check, and went with Walrus.’

‘And what’s a walrus?’

Sunny raised a finger and pulled his scrib from his belt holster. He gestured at the screen, then turned it her way. The Archives helpfully displayed his friend’s namesake – a sack-like water beast with ludicrous tusks and unfortunate whiskers.

Eyas laughed. ‘Okay, that’s worse than mine.’

The host chuckled as he set his scrib on the table. ‘Hey, if it’s any consolation, I don’t like my given name, either.’

‘You mean it’s not Sunny?’ Eyas said with a smirk.

The host winked. ‘So, I heard you’ve had a long day.’

Eyas raised her eyebrows. ‘Did you?’

‘That was Iana’s guess, at least. Did she get that wrong?’

Assuming Iana was the blue-haired woman, Eyas mentally gave her a few points for perception. ‘No. It has been a long day.’

Sunny held up the bottle. ‘Do you like sintalin?’

‘I’ve never had it.’ She considered the name. ‘Aeluon?’

‘Laru. It’s . . . well, it’s what I pour myself on long days.’ He picked up two glasses, asking her a silent question. She nodded. He poured.

Eyas examined the glass placed in her hand. The liquid within had a caramel warmth, and the colour got darker and darker the deeper the glass went. It smelled unlike anything she’d ever had. A good smell, at least. A rich, spiced smell. She took a sip, and shut her eyes. ‘Wow.’