“The Street of Lies,” Vada said. “Bas’s Secret is one of my favorite spots in all of Ithilia. They have the best plum wine in Pelago and I am thinking we could both use a drink.”

Agnes allowed herself to be led into a bar with no sign, just a painting of Bas above it, the goddess reclining naked, her long black hair covering her more sensitive parts, her red skin shining dully.

Inside, everything was red and black. Red painted walls with black tables, lamps with red-and-black checkered shades perched on each one. Smoke swirled through the air and there was a small stage in one corner with a jazz quartet playing. The bar itself was fashioned out of a coffin, Agnes realized, which seemed awfully morbid yet also appropriate for a place named after the goddess of death.

“Vada,” the bartender said with a smile as she approached. She was a wizened old woman with gnarled hands and a gold tooth. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen your face around here.” She eyed Agnes curiously. “Who’s your friend?”

“We need a table and to use your washroom, Neve,” Vada said.

The bartender laughed. “I could smell the sea on you when you walked in the door.” She reached behind the bar and handed Vada a small silver key. “Lock up when you’re done.”

The washroom was tiny and cramped, with only a sink and some towels and a bar of patchouli-scented soap. Vada stripped out of her vest and unbuttoned her shirt before Agnes even had a second to think. She turned away quickly, her face hot, but not before she caught a glimpse of Vada’s lean torso and small firm breasts. Agnes’s heart was pummeling against her chest as she waited for Vada to finish washing. Desire and anxiety warred inside her, along with the abrupt inexplicable fear that Vada did not want Agnes the same way Agnes wanted her.

“It is nice to be feeling clean again,” Vada said. “Even if only a little.”

“Mm-hm,” Agnes said. She began to unbutton her vest, but slowly, hoping Vada would be done by the time she stripped it off, and also sort of hoping she wouldn’t.

But she peeled the vest off and turned to find Vada fully clothed.

“I will be getting us drinks and a table,” she said. “Come find me when you are finished.”

Agnes forced herself to nod, holding her breath until Vada left. She quickly washed her face and chest and under her arms, drying herself with a towel and feeling the buzzing of nerves in her stomach.

Vada was at a table with a carafe of plum wine and a plate of olives and feta cheese. “Wait until you try this,” she said, pouring them each a drink. “You will never want to be drinking anything else.”