“And what, flap around and get in the way?” Niamh’s brows were pulled together as she surveyed him with calculating eyes. She hadn’t moved from the chair yet. She wasn’t getting his meaning.
“Yeah, fine, whatever. Not like you do much else, lush. I want to go. Now. Or I’m telling on you.”
Niamh sent a long-suffering look down the bar to Timmie before downing her drink and climbing off her stool. “Yer gonna create an enemy over this one, lad,” she said, her movements shooing the invisible mage away.
“You’ll keep quiet if you know what’s good for you,” Sebastian said as she laid some cash on the bar.
“Someone like ye giving me threats?” She huffed. “Might as well put a stocking over yer head.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Yeah. Exactly. Just copping that now?”
She turned to go, but he hesitated. The invisible mage was looking their way. If Tristan came away from that wall, he’d be visible again, and that mage or one of the others would see his magic.
He didn’t want that trick getting back to Momar if at all possible. Gargoyles’ abilities were mostly unknowns to mages. They needed to keep it that way.
“Well? ” Niamh asked, motioning at the door. “Get movin’ or I’ll give ye a kick in the hole.”
“I might have to go to the bathroom,” Sebastian blurted, really, really bad at improvising.
Niamh stared at him for a solid beat, then said in a low voice, “Ye don’t know how yer bladder works?” And then, in a much louder voice, “Are ye some sort of eejit?”
“I need to go to the bathroom,” he said with confidence. “Maybe number two, I don’t know.”
She seemed to be developing an eye tic. “Well then,” she said very slowly, the tension rising,
“ye’d better get yer arse to the toilet before ye shite all over yer drawers. Here, let me help ya.”
“No, no, I can manage,” he said, expecting something awful. He wasn’t quite sure whether they were acting anymore.
“It’s no trouble, here.” She grabbed him by the back of the neck and an upper arm and started marching him through the bar. “Maybe ye’ll feel better when I stick yer head in the toilet and flush a few times.”
“Uncle!” he shouted, at least remembering to flail as they went, shooing the invisible mage into the corner. “I’ve changed my mind! Uncle, uncle!”
“What are ye on about, uncle?” Niamh got near the back and then threw him. He hit the corner of the hallway leading to the bathrooms and bounced off, ricocheting to the other side and face-planting.
“Oww,” he drew out, staggering on toward the bathroom.
“Give me a shot, Tam-tam, would ya? That lad has done me head in. What are ye looking at? ”
Niamh hollered, and a glance back said she was mad-dogging one of the mages and the other two were watching her with wide eyes. At the back of the bar, Tristan slipped out without anyone noticing.
Sebastian peed, because at this point it was probably wise in case she berated him again and he lost control of his bladder, and hurried out.
“I don’t like the look of him one bit,” Niamh was saying to someone sitting beside her at the top of the bar, pointing around a corner at the closest mage. “What are ye even wearing? Do ye not know how jeans work? Yer as bad as that muppet in the toilet.” She leaned harder on the bar, and though Sebastian was behind her and couldn’t see her eyes, he’d bet they were bugged out. She did that sometimes to unsettle people when （for some reason） her personality wasn’t enough. “Don’t know how to speak?” She huffed and went back to talking to the guy next to her as Tam-tam （where’d he gotten Timmie?） smirked with her hands crossed over her chest. “Doesn’t know how to dress, doesn’t
know how to talk…”
“Ready,” Sebastian said in a small voice, hurrying past her.
“What a night,” Niamh told Tam-tam as she pushed away from the bar. “What. A. Fecking. Night.”
“And it’s just getting started,” Tam-tam said.
“Don’t remind me.” Niamh raised her hand as she followed Sebastian for the door. “Sorry for the display. I’ll be sure not to bring this gobshite again.”
“Bring him! That was the most fun I’ve had in a while,” Tam-tam called as Sebastian made it outside and turned toward Phil.
“Abort,” he said, making it to the bush. “Phil—”