A Flight of Broken Wings: Aeriel Trilogy #1

Chapter 21

She ended up buying Ashwin multiple drinks – all of them some eye-watering shade of neon – and snacks, and even a collection of candy-sized chocolate bunnies which for some reason the man seemed singularly taken with. It never hurt to ply a potential source with alcohol while interviewing them, in her experience.

Casia was unconcerned, though. She was billing it all to Jiniya as work-related expense, which it was, because she had spent the last two hours sitting at the bar with her new Zainian friend and listening to the most amazing tales of forthcoming revolutions in arms technology and secret Aeriel conspiracies. These were some of the most extraordinary stories that she had ever heard in her life – and for someone who appeared daily on prime time television, that's saying something.

If half of what he was saying were true, thought Casia, she had over a month's worth of top-of-the-chart programming, sitting on a bar stool right in front of her, looking at her through wide, guileless eyes with a bright green cocktail dangling forgotten between his long fingers.

"And so they told me that I had to get the news to the authorities in Vandram as soon as possible, before the Aeriels could actually carry out the theft," Ashwin was saying, eyes wide and voice hushed with urgency. "But I honestly didn't know who to go to first because you never know who you can trust with things like these, you know?" he confided conspiratorially.

Casia wondered idly what brain-dead idiot had entrusted this boy with state secrets. Even for Zainians, this was a new low. Not that she was complaining, of course.

"Do you have any proof of your claims?" she asked finally, taking an absent-minded sip of her own beer.

Ashwin nodded vigorously. "Oh yes. It's all there in my hotel room. All the paperwork, I mean. I don't really understand most of it," he smiled self-deprecatingly, taking a careful sip of the bright green concoction in his glass, the latest of his experiments with neon. "But then, I am just a messenger."

Casia returned his smile with a rather indulgent one of her own. "And a very important role that is, my Lord–"

"Call me Ashwin, please," the young man pleaded, for perhaps the fourth time that evening. Casia decided to take pity on him. He was clearly in over his head, but it wasn't really his fault, she supposed. Besides, it could very possibly turn out to be a blessing in disguise, so far as she was concerned.

"Well Ashwin, I'll tell you what. I can help you get your message across to the most important people in all of Vandram, those whom you can be sure you can trust, for they want only the best for both our countries." She paused a moment for effect, watching her companion's lips part in surprise, limpid eyes widening with awe. "The citizens. The common people. There is no one on earth that deserves to know about the perils facing this nation more than the common people living in it!"

"I-I suppose you're right," agreed Ashwin haltingly, looking a little overwhelmed. "What do I have to do, Miss Casia?"

"Oh,don't you worry about that, my friend," said Casia sweetly, taking thealmost-empty cocktail glass off the boy's hands and throwing some money on thecounter to cover their bill. "Youjust have to come with me to the studio."