Chapter 19: The Devil Others Know
The guard house was light inside, thanks to an abundance of magical lighting. There were no windows, so Kir wasn't entirely surprised to discover the place smelled like a locker room.
The lanky guard followed Kir, pushing him ahead until they arrived at a cell.
Kir's wings wound up scraping the top of the door, and he barely lowered them enough before the guard shoved him the rest of the way into the large, barred room, which was clearly more for waiting than long-term holding. He closed the door behind Kir with a clang before locking it.
In one corner was a bucket, which was oddly fly-free until he caught a glimpse of a dead one floating upside down in the obviously-not-water that was inside it.
In the other corner, a drunk beastkin in moderately well-to-do clothes was sleeping on the bench with his face toward the wall. He was very red panda-like, and just as tall as a regular person. His tail was tucked between his legs, but Kir could see a few patterns on it that were not found on earth's red pandas.
The cell's other occupant was a demonkin man, who strummed idly at a lute. He was dressed for travel in a duster jacket that hid some rather colorful clothes underneath. A narrow tricorn hat rested atop his head, and the tail gathered in his lap had a fuzzy puff of hair on the tip.
Three benches were present in the room, forming an open rectangle with the bars. They were narrow and up against the wall, which meant standing room only for Kir with his wings. He tried to be mindful of his tail so that it didn't touch the floor, which was littered with straw and detritus.
As Kir went to the back to lean, the other demonkin looked up.
"Welcome to perdition, brother," he said. "Coin for a story while you wait?" His voice was a clear tenor, very pleasant, and sold the image of a bard to Kir's mind.