Despite troubled dreams, Quill felt accomplished as he woke up, a fact he attributed to a day well completed prior and meditation upon his successes before bed. His wool blanket sang a song of body heat and comfort in a heated-but-not-warm apartment. With a sigh, he put on his heavy robe and prepared to go about his day. The papergirl, evidently motivated by the previous day’s tip, was by his estimate a sandglass early and right outside his door when she cried, “Extra, extra!” Quill only made it to the door on the second repetition of this call. He tipped, but less well, not wanting to be disturbed before he was ready for his day.
He set about getting his stove up to temperature, intent upon making beet pancakes for breakfast and a salad for lunch, also with beets. Added to his gastronomic endeavors would be millet and curds in one, and apples and beans to the other. The boiling time needed for the salad would push up against the time he had to leave, and so he planned to snatch it off the stove and pour it into a large bowl as he left. While breakfast was frying, he scanned the headlines of the paper. In red letters, no less, was the declaration that the Earth Guild had been bombed. The explosive had been small, but had entirely destroyed the office of the guildmistress. She had, fortunately, been away on philanthropic business, but her secretary had been injured. Along with a wealth of paperwork lost was the particular directions and directives associated with the pre-Loss artifact Tome was guiding them towards, and this would delay work by several days while the requisite information was translated and compiled by bilingual scribes at the direction of their patron Tome. Despite what it would do to his schedule, Quill resolved to check in on Parchment before he went to work. Hopefully she had made it to her office in time to rescue his book.
The Earth Guild building was not state of the art of sorcery, but as an Age of Stone building it was beautiful. As a wealthy guild, the premier guild of Coldpass, it could afford the gratuitous costs of heating, and so was both taller and less blocky than many of its fellows. Granite carved with statues representing the union of dragon and craftsman abounded, though it had been some time since the Earth Guild had concerned itself with so base matters as craftsmen. Its partnership with Tome had bolstered its fortunes and the fortunes of those tied to it, and it had also specialized. Now, it was specifically devoted to mining out the caverns of the mountain it stood upon, providing building materials for the Fireplains, and somehow Tome’s sticky claws had gotten into the taxation of trade through the pass to the northern coast. Quill supposed he could not be too upset about this, as Parchment had done right by him and was the highest representative of the Guild, with the exception of Tome himself.
Inside the Earth Guild building proper, Quill saw a scene of chaos. When he was finally able to flag down a harried scribe, he learned that the paper had, if anything, understated the losses the Guild faced from the destruction of Parchment’s office. When he pressed, he was informed that even the lowliest scribe and the loftiest manager was occupied and that it was absolutely impossible that he get a meeting with the guildmistress that day. Having made his best effort, and by now quite late, Quill satisfied himself with the fact he would see Parchment at the Lounge that evening, provided her being alright was not another polite fiction to the papers. As for whether his valise, and the book inside, had survived… he held out little hope, if even the protected and personal papers of the guildmistress had not made it through the blast.
Despite his lateness, he paused to circle around to the alley and see if anyone had left anything interesting behind the loose brick in the wall, but he was disappointed to find nothing. Inside, most of his volunteers had set to their tasks without direction, following the schedule he had painstakingly arranged some time ago. It was only two in particular, one of them Leather, who needed to be directed to their work. As he filled the billboard with the day’s events, Quill pondered why, when his friend had nearly been blown to smithereens, he was still feeling a curious satisfaction which had only grown with his visit to the Earth Guild. Ultimately, he assumed it had to do with the reassurance of her safety, anemic though that reassurance had been. He was approached by the male cohort of the woman from the day before, with more uninformed questions about Incarnism and dueling. He started over from the beginning with a sigh, but made even less headway than he had the day before. He consoled himself that the time spent was time closer to seeing Denouement.
When lunch did finally come, and it did not seem to come in any particular hurry despite the fact he had gotten as far as unity with the Savior in explaining Wholist Incarnism, he set out at a brisk pace. Despite his advice to himself, he was excited to see her, and even his schedule took second place to securing the same table for himself and setting his fish-free lunch upon it. Denouement, in an inscrutable non-response, was precisely on time, this time carrying a curry bun. “Well, good afternoon to you, Quill.” He replied in kind. “I’ve taken a look at the location of the cavern, and I have some concerns.” Like a key into a lock, the subject of business put his interest in the charming, competent woman into a compartment and closed it away. Denouement began to describe the difficulties the elevation posed. It would fall to Quill to procure the equipment necessary, and an intrusive thought bid him to approach Parchment regarding the expense. For the altitude sickness, she would need a chambered bottle made by a fire sorcerer with access to the advanced elemental sphere of metal, followed by cold branding and exposure to regular atmosphere. At that statement, Quill’s mind went to Glue. While they wouldn’t be capable of the fire sorcery, they lit their incense with a fire rune branded on their fingers, they might be capable of the advanced elemental alchemy Denouement was describing. Noting the details thoughtfully, and certain of Glue’s ready aid, he asked that she meet him for lunch the next day along with Glue. Denouement nodded and dabbed some curry from the corner of her mouth. It was a very kissable mouth, he thought, and his second thought was that clearly the business portion of the meeting was over if he was observing the corners of Denouement’s mouth. Once again, the precept that business took precedence over pleasure came unbidden to his mind, and he heeded the warning. With naught more than a handshake, Quill bid Denouement a good day and returned to the library. He felt some trepidation, unwarranted and unexplained, at the thought of introducing Denouement and Glue, but he put it aside with the recollection that Glue was taking an interest in Parchment. After all, what else could he be concerned about?
Back at the library, Quill had another unfortunate encounter. It filled him with an unnameable dread, as opposed to the beleaguered irritation of those who misunderstood either his sword, which he knew better than to draw, or his Incarnism. A large, pugnacious man came directly up to him. He was pale, with blue eyes and a nose that had been broken at least once. He wore his dark hair in unfashionably long bangs. The man in question strode up to him and introduced himself as Burner. He had what Quill fancied a pyromaniacal gleam in his eye as he said this. Without stating his authority to do so, he began to question Quill as to his comings and goings, things with which he was clearly quite familiar. As he asked, Quill felt a sensation he recognized, though he couldn’t say from where, of someone rifling through his thoughts. And so, when Burner asked him why he looked behind a loose brick most days, his mouth stayed closed but his mind offered up a plaintive “I don’t know! Curiosity?” which seemed to satisfy Burner not at all.
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Quill wanted heartily to end the interaction, and yet he knew it would end all the worse if he closed it preemptively. At the question of who he had been meeting for lunch, a picture of Denouement flashed before his eyes, and Burner looked at him with a leer. “Don’t get any ideas about her, librarian.” Quill felt a flare of anger, that this stranger would offer him advice on conducting his own affairs, feeling certain one could not manage both the air and fire sorcery simultaneously to rifle through one’s thoughts and one’s feelings. Evidently, however, he was mistaken, as Burner responded to the anger with a grin and added, “Don’t like that, librarian? That’s really just too bad. You’re not in charge in Coldpass, and Burner is. Right hand arm man of Tome, I am. You’re good at looking like your mind is open, but I’ll get your secrets out eventually.” Their interaction apparently concluded, the man turned on his heel and stalked out of Dragon Tales. Quill, badly shaken, settled in one of the reading chairs and didn’t stir from that spot until it was nearly closing time and one of his volunteers approached him for direction.
The Manners Lounge was just the thing to settle Quill’s nerves after an emotional and trying day. Everything, from the early cry of the papergirl to the encounter with Burner, had worked to unsettle him. Even Denouement, though delightful, was a diversion from his routine. He had also, evidently, harbored doubts as to the accuracy of the paper report, because he felt better just seeing Parchment, hale and hearty. She was laughing as Glue played with Tome Junior, teasing the toy drake with exhalations of molasses-based hookah smoke and tickling fingertips. Here, Quill felt he was more himself, more in his own awareness, just by sharing space with his two best friends. Well, not best friends, Parchment was a relatively recent acquaintance. And yet he felt sure of her being on his side. There was no secret he would need to keep from her. Not that he had that many secrets. Desire for a woman before business was concluded, and before he had entirely gotten over a boyfriend he had trusted and then been separated from by events beyond their control. “I had a difficult encounter today,” he said, after a few passes of the hookah pipe. The cool smoke, though not intoxicating, was pleasant and relaxing. “A man named Burner.”
Glue leaned back and exhaled a plume of smoke. “Ah, Burner. How is he?” Evidently they knew of Burner.
“Confrontational. Air sorcerer, fire sorcerer. He knows Denouement is meeting with me.”
Glue looked sharply at him. “I see. Do we need to discuss this in any depth?”
Quill shook his head. “He warned me away from her, but it seemed more an interest in her on his part than anything related to business.” The term “business” was curiously vague in Quill’s mind, despite the fact he could discuss in detail the specifications of the flask Denouement required made before she could retrieve the books in the cavern. He felt an itch between his shoulder blades, and as he contorted to scratch it noted that there was nobody within listening distance. Despite the deleterious effect it would have upon service, he found it a relief for reasons he could neither name nor bring himself to question.
Glue shook their head as he recounted them. “Lunch works. We’ll need to discuss her needs. I didn’t think the mountain was tall enough to require air supply, nor that the mission was so long as to make that noticeable.” We know the atmosphere gets thin higher up, and Coldwell already can cause altitude sickness as a low pass through the Barbery Mountains.
Parchment looked up from soothing her overstimulated toy drake. “Perhaps she’s foisting a later endeavor’s cost onto an existing patron.”
“Perhaps,” Quill contradicted, “she merely comes from the Fireplains which are a much lower elevation and she’s already dealing with altitude sickness. Or, perhaps you are mistaken, Glue. Would you like Denouement’s job?” His tone was sharp, Quill was well aware of this, but there was little rancor in his heart. Glue was an old friend and regardless of their personal feelings, they would doubtless arrange for the sorcery needed for the retrieval of the books Denouement was to obtain.
Glue chuckled and then blew smoke rings at Tome Junior. “I recognize that tone. Don’t worry, Quill, we’ll get her the equipment she needs. I’ll ask all my impertinent questions at lunch, and you can take umbrage on her behalf. But if she’s half the operator you think she is, I suspect she’ll put me in my place.” Quill felt satisfaction at, to his mind, an eminently accurate assessment of Denouement’s character. She would accept warranted correction without allowing any question of her general competence.
“My question,” Parchment began, “is who we’re getting to do the metal sorcery and air brand. Can you brand runes, Glue? You haven’t mentioned them.” Glue shook their head. “That’s what I thought, I just wasn’t certain. You never mentioned brands when you were telling me about how you rehabilitate your criminally insane.”
“The sorcery just hasn’t advanced to a point that it’s practical. Air brands are cutting edge in and of themselves, and fire brands were never studied enough to develop anything so complex as what I need in order to help a criminal renovate their mind. If I could enact an effect as complex as a spell with a rune, it would be simple to rehabilitate everyone in the sanatorium. As is, it’s a slow process of building the magical architecture in their actual minds.” Quill pricked his finger with a small cheese knife and consulted with his channeled spirit of lore. He didn’t understand Glue’s explanation, but evidently his spirit did, because what came to him was the analogy of digging a ditch versus a wagon rut. Were runes capable of more complex effects, Glue could simply dig a ditch of good intent. Instead, they were of necessity repeating patterns in the pliable material of the mind until, like a wagon running along a path, they had produced a rut that would stay emplaced in the mind.
“What this means for me,” Parchment said, “is that I will be commissioning this, or transferring the funds necessary to one of you.” Quill immediately advocated for Parchment working through Glue. After all, they would be speaking to Denouement the next day, and Glue had a better understanding of sorcery than Quill.
