The promise of libations lifted Margo’s spirits a little bit, not that seeing Eliot wasn’t enough to bring a smile to her face. It was just that hopping to yet another world had left her a little dizzy and, well, that called for some decent alcohol.

“Seriously?” Her eyebrows raised. “God, I’ll never stop hating how time works differently in different worlds. I mean, apparently you’ve never…” Been a high king in Fillory. Margo couldn’t finish her sentence. She just put her hand to her forehead, shook her head, and sighed. “I don’t know. I’m beginning to get that every day we’re redefining crazy, so…” She shrugged.

The place Eliot led them to wasn’t so bad, and Margo had been dreading the worst knowing their history. She liked the vibe it gave off. Slipping into a seat, she smiled across the table at Eliot.

“So, is this where you’ve been sipping martinis for three months?” She leaned forward slightly.