Adam slung Liam's arm over his shoulder and led the way. "You're buyin' me dinner for this," he said with a grin.
“Joke’s on you,” said Liam. “I’m broke.”
They laughed and trundled on, careful to avoid the slicker spots that might be dangerous for them both.
“When we find Mr Aylen, let me do the talking,” said Adam, after a time. “Best he hears about the ordeal from someone who came out unscathed.”
“You think that’d help?” asked Liam. “He won’t be cross at you for not—” He tried to find a good way to say what he meant to say, without it coming off as an insult. “My father always used to say if you come home without bruises, ‘twasn’t really work. Had a fight with my mates and Rían—my brother, Rían—got a shiner and my da said ‘if you were really all there, you’d both look like him, or both look like you’.”
Adam laughed. “This is your roundabout way of calling me a coward.”
“No,” Liam said. “No, I just—”