Korrin Gitan, second son of the king, was on his fourth beer. He tilted his head back, finished it, crushed the can, and tossed it away. Then he washed the beer down with a shot of vodka. He slammed the shot glass down on the table, shattering it.
Around him, his companions let out roars of laughter.
"You could do better than that," Ruslo said from next to him. "Watch and learn, cousin."
Ruslo cracked a beer, tilted it back, and had it finished within seconds.
"You're not going to stand for that, are you, Korrin?" one of his friends asked.
"Never," Korrin yelled, standing up and grabbing a new beer. He cracked it and chugged it, tossing the empty can on the ground behind him.
They were standing around an old table on the edge of camp, a fire crackling warmly next to them. It was there mainly to light the night, to let them see what they were doing out in the woods, and even then it was next to useless.
Korrin heard twigs cracking to his right, as did his companions. They all rounded on the intruder, but tension died away when they recognized Kaven, Korrin's older brother, who was about to inherit the kingdom.
"Come to join us, brother?" Korrin asked, tossing him a beer.
"We heard you coming from a mile away," Ruslo chided.
Kaven caught the beer, then tossed it back to Korrin, saying, "I wasn't trying to sneak up on you drunken idiots. Who would have known what you would have done had I tried?"
"Too good to drink with us?"
"I have an early morning. Father says he has important matters to discuss with me. But he wants you there, so I figured I would at least give you a warning. Don't get too wild tonight, Korrin. It's about the future of the kingdom."
"What does he need me for?" Korrin asked, cracking the beer. Foam exploded everywhere.
Kaven shrugged and turned. "I don't know. But be there."
"Is he trying to ruin our fun?" Ruslo asked, laughing, but no one else laughed with him. He looked to Korrin for reassurance, but Korrin looked troubled. "What is it, Korrin?"
Korrin took a tentative sip of his beer. "Things are changing, Ruslo, and I don't know if I'm ready for them." He looked up at his cousin, his golden eyes glinted knowingly in the light. But Korrin shrugged, saying, "I think I'm going to call it."
He was met with yells of protest, but he finished his beer, slammed it against the table, and headed off, waving lazily to his friends.
He'd barely made it past the light of the fire before he heard footsteps behind him. He took a deep breath. It was Ruslo, trying to catch up. Korrin slowed down enough to let him catch up before they made their way back to the camp proper.
"Here," Ruslo said, handing Korrin another beer. Korrin took it, and together they made their way back to the camp. "You sure you're calling it a night?"
"Don't want to," Korrin answered with a shrug. "But if my father wants me to join them for some stupid kingdom nonsense, I guess I have to, don't I?"
"No one says you have to feel good for it," Ruslo said, and Korrin knew he was grinning. He was up to something.
"Let's hear it, then."
"I got the old van running again," Ruslo whispered. Korrin didn't know why he would be whispering out here alone in the woods, but he was.
"What? That thing hasn't run for years," Korrin said. "Let's see it."
"That's what I like to hear," Ruslo said. "Come on, follow me."
Ruslo took a sharp detour, almost 90 degrees to the left, and Korrin just took a drink of his beer and followed him. They walked for nearly ten minutes, going farther and farther away from the camp. Eventually, they reached a clearing, and Korrin could see the old van gleaming dully in the moonlight.
"Damn," Korrin breathed, running his hand along the rusted exterior. "This thing has a lot of good memories attached to it. I never thought I would see it again. How?"
"It was only a day's walk from camp. I knew it had broken down somewhere out here, and it took me a while to find it, but here it is. Got a team of horses together and hauled it back close enough to work on it."
"Why?" Korrin asked. He climbed into the passenger seat as Ruslo opened the driver's side door, hoisted himself up in the moth-eaten seats, and then slammed the door behind him.
Ruslo didn't answer for the longest time. Korrin glanced at him. Ruslo looked almost… guilty? Then, after a look of unmistakable sadness, he answered, "Like you said, Korrin. Times are changing. I thought this would let us remember what we used to be like. Do you remember when Kaven drove this thing through your father's tent? I thought he was going to tear it apart for scrap. But he didn't, for whatever reason."
"He probably wanted to keep it because somehow, against all odds, it was the last vehicle in the entire kingdom. And then it broke down on us. How long were we out in the wilderness? Two days? Three?"
"Four, I think. The look on Nack's face, when he finally found us… I still remember it," Ruslo said, laughing. "Should we give it a shot? Drive around for old time's sake?"
"You sure it actually runs? Fire her up, then," Korrin said. He peered into the back seat. It was empty, save for one thing: a case of beer. "You thought of everything," he answered, tearing the case open.
Ruslo turned the key over in the ignition. The van chugged a few times then fired to life. The headlights flickered but then came on full blast, illuminating the clearing.
"Where are we going?" Korrin asked.
"Wherever we end up," Ruslo said. "Now, hand me a beer."
Ruslo turned the wheel, and the van darted down an old logging road, long forgotten to anyone but Korrin and his kind.
"This is the end of an era," Ruslo said, taking a sip of his beer, and slowly guiding the van through the woods. Korrin glanced at him. Ruslo wasn't the one to be melodramatic. Usually, after a few beers, he got wild and out of control. "I think this will be the last time we ever get to do something like this."
"Hey, my brother is going to be king, not me. And look at you; you're already advising my father. You're more important to him than I'll ever be. And we're still doing stuff like this. Nothing is going to change, Ruslo. Nothing."
"I wish you were right," Ruslo said. Korrin opened his mouth to argue, to tell Ruslo that things would be okay. Things weren't going to change just because his brother, instead of his father, would be king. Korrin definitely wasn't going to make his life any harder than it had to be because of it.
They drove, for how long Korrin didn't know, talking about how things used to be. Ruslo was musing, almost sad, and Korrin just sat there, agreeing and drinking his beer.
He reached backwards, grabbed the case, and shook it. "It's empty! We're out of beer!"
"Shit," Ruslo growled.
"Where'd you get it?"
"The village south of camp. Cost me a pretty penny, too."
"Shit," Korrin agreed. He looked up, scanning the road they were on, because now, it was an actual road, though not an often used one. "Where are we? We're close to Prague, right?"
"Shit," Ruslo said. "I guess you're right. We must have driven for two, three hours."
"Surprised this thing made it this far," Korrin observed.
"Hey," Ruslo warned.
The van rumbled down the old dirt road. Occasionally, they passed a farm house, most with their lights off.
Korrin rolled down the window, then leaned out, looking at the moon. "Gotta be close to eleven—maybe midnight."
"When was the last time you were in the city?" Ruslo asked.
"You can't be serious," Korrin said. Ruslo didn't look like he was kidding. Korrin smiled. "Been years. Let's go."
Ruslo jerked the wheel hard to the side, and they were going down another dirt road. Far, far in the distance, the dark night sky was lit softly from the glow of the city.
"Prague," Korrin breathed.
"Who would have thought our night would come to this?" Ruslo said, laughing, as he pressed his foot against the accelerator. The van gave a little lurch, and they were picking up speed. "Two Shifters, out of the wilds, driving the kingdom's last working vehicle—all to get some beer."
"Who would have thought?" Korrin agreed, grabbing the dash in front of him, trying to brace himself. "Ruslo, don't kill us!"
But Ruslo wasn't listening: he was driving, wild eyed. The road was a blur. More and more houses flashed past, and most of these had lights on. Soon, they were driving through a suburb, and Ruslo was finally slowing down. Korrin looked down at his hands. His knuckles were bone white, and he let out a breath he hadn't even known he'd been holding.
It took another half hour before they were in the city proper, scouting for a liquor store. Korrin found himself wide eyed, taking in the city. He'd been raised out in the wilderness. Traveling in wagons, staying each night in a new place, was the lifestyle he knew. He hadn't been to Prague, or any other big city, since he was a young boy. He hardly remembered it.
"Here we go," Ruslo said, suddenly pulling into an empty parking spot. People were everywhere, flooding the sidewalks.
I've never seen this many people before in my life. Not even at one of my father's feasts. This… This is something else.
And I don't fit in.
But Ruslo was opening the door, stepping out into the street. Korrin opened the door and joined him. "Where is the liquor store?"
"We don't need one, cousin," Ruslo answered. "Look at all of these bars."
A bar was something Korrin had only heard of. He'd never seen one, let alone been inside one. People were everywhere on the sidewalk.
"We're out of our element, Ruslo," Korrin said, coming to his cousin's side. "Maybe we should just get some beer and get back home."
"Let's live a little while we still have the chance," Ruslo said. "After all, what's the point of being in Prague if we're not going to enjoy it?"
With that, Ruslo made his way up to one of the bars. The man at the entrance just waved him inside, and Korrin hurried to catch up. He half expected the man to stop him, but when he saw just how big Korrin was, he was waved inside, too.
Inside was even more packed than the street outside. Bodies filled up the bar. People were packed in tight, wall to wall. Music was thumping from someplace far away; it was so loud that Korrin could feel it in his bones.
Ruslo pushed his way through the crowd toward the bar, and Korrin did his best to keep up, trying not to knock anyone over. Eventually, they reached the bar and then waited a few minutes for a place to open up. Ruslo pulled out a wad of bills.
Korrin wondered where he had gotten money like that, but that thought faded when Ruslo handed Korrin two beers and a shot. They took the shots immediately, grabbed the beers, and turned to look at the crowd.
And through the seemingly hundreds of people in the bar, most blocking his way, Korrin saw a woman sitting alone at a table in the corner.
She looked up at him, and Korrin felt his breath catch in his throat.