We camp out at Fin’s for a long, monotonous week. While we were retrieving the Scales at the Dragons' nest, things went exactly like Elen predicted. The week we were gone, we were framed for murder of two of the nine Chairholders. Of the few people who knew we were outside of the city when the murders took place– Chairholder Helios-Lime III –has turned himself in for ‘the crime of accidentally harboring such criminals’, and Gilfri has mysteriously disappeared. According to one of Fin’s many cousins, Anostia, our least-favorite Chairholder has publicly declared his apology for being duped, and basically got off with a slap on the wrist! The city is in an uproar with manhunts for us! Faladel and Silv are in complete agreement that we shouldn’t sneak out in disguise. And they and Fin are busy trying to convince Fin’s family to keep harboring criminals. So I am left with nothing to do but thumb-war Elen and drink her disgusting tonics to try and get rid of my constant headaches.

I sat in on one of the discussions once, but fell asleep after thirty minutes of nonstop arguing. The dynamics between the two groups in Fin’s huge family is actually pretty interesting, so I blame my passing out on the draught I had taken right before the meeting. Basically, Fin’s family adores him. He is a bit of a protegee in their eyes, and someone who will no doubt bring up their standing in society. Fin hates their guts because they forced him into exploring and didn’t let him have a childhood. Although he enjoys exploring now, he never would have chosen that path for himself in his youth, and still holds a grudge.

Fin’s family isn’t traditional amongst the Kashan. First of all, it has, like, forty people– counting the many numerous cousins and second cousins. They all live together on the western outskirts of The Light in order to be able to afford enough room for everyone and the cattle. If their home wasn’t so run down, I’d call it a mansion. In its heyday, it might have been one. But the family has been on hard times for a few generations, and their Matriarch, a steadfast woman named Niech, has a difficult time keeping everyone in line. Anostia isn’t even supposed to be talking to us, but she’s small enough to escape the Matriarch’s watchful gaze. She brings us important news, news we can use to formulate plans. We’ve worked out a system, she tells me stories of what’s happening in the city, and I tell her stories of life in Heronmal and of my adventures as a King’s Archer.

We aren’t prisoners here exactly, but we aren’t allowed out either, and we don’t have much of a say in how things are run. We got them to send lookouts to the Entry Isle, as Fin has taken to calling the place we arrived, so that we’ll know when our friends show up. We have been given our own ancient wing of the manor house to live and sleep in and are provided with free meals, but we are forbidden from talking to most of the family members and are instructed to keep out of sight. Anostia agrees with me that this is udder haberdash, and has shown me how to sneak around the house and the best ways to steal cookies from the kitchens. No wonder she’s Fin’s favorite cousin!

There are two opinions in the family right now, turn in the ‘murderers’, and don’t turn in the ‘murderers’. Most of the first camp’s arguments would be logical if we had actually killed anyone. They can’t risk harboring us, what if we mean people in the family harm as well, how can they trust us, how might this affect attitudes against the Kashan as a whole– that sort of thing. However more and more often it comes down to the first point. Harboring us is a risk, and one that could have serious consequences. However, keeping their golden child out of prison, along with the possible benifits to be reaped if we succeed in proving we were framed, and some quite lucrative trade deals Faladel has offered out of desperation, have kept us in the Matriarch’s favor and out of the hands of law enforcement.

Honestly though, I’m not sure how much longer this can last. I sigh and roll over on the bed. I’ve been staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours, but the grandfather clock in the corner of the room insists that it’s only just after nine in the morning. Getting up I begin to pace restlessly, still considering our predicament. If we can’t go out, how are we supposed to prove our innocence? Much less, make sure Adamar, Folas, and Valkallyn come through the portal safely, figure out what’s going on with the dragons, and fix whatever is messing with the magic around here. If only I wasn’t feeling so sick, I could sneak out into the forest beyond the city and harvest feathers to make myself and Faladel fake wings. I’d have to find different disguises for Silv, Fin, and Elen, but I’m sure a few fake mustaches and some skin tone shifts would work wonders on them.

I groan and lean my head against the hidden door in my room. I’m afraid that boredom will kill me faster than these headaches or being executed for a murder I didn’t commit. I hear a knock on my regular door, and Faladel pokes his head around. “May I come in?”

“Of course, is everything alright?” I ask, a little alarmed by the disappointment on his face.

“We might have a small problem–” Faladel begins, coming fully into the room.

“Problem?” I prod, plopping myself on my bed and patting the seat beside me so that Faladel will sit down as well.

“One of the opposition leaders– he goes by the name of Habbernach, I think I might have mentioned him to you before – claimed that there are rumors going around that they will start searching the family homes of those associated with the ‘murderous elves’.” Faladel grimaces as he says our new nickname. And I agree, it could use some work. “Elen’s family has already stated that they will fully comply with any such requests, and are offering their private mechanical soldiers to help with the search.”

Stolen novel; please report.

“Mechanical soldiers!?” I exclaim, “I thought those things just helped with household chores.”

“Most do.” Faladel sighs, “But Elen’s family apparently had helped sponsor an inventor that was making warrior prototypes. He died before he could finish- natural causes.” He adds in, reading my question before I can say it. “So they own the only prototypes. They aren’t that good with firearms, but they can’t be turned away in their search by threats or coin, and they are methodical in everything they do. They’d be perfect for a search effort.”

“So we’re in trouble if we stay here.”

“If the rumors are correct, we’re in trouble if we stay here.” Faladel edits my statement. “If they’re wrong–”

“Faladel,” I interrupt, “If they’re wrong now, it won’t be long until they’re right. We can’t stay here and hope this all blows over. They won’t just ignore two murdered politicians, and nor will they try to find the true culprit unless they have absolute proof we didn’t do it. We can’t just stay here forever waiting for something to happen! We have to go out there, and prove our own innocence!” My voice rises to a near shout, and I feel my throat scrape nastily. I start to cough, and instinctively cover my mouth with my arm. I don’t want Faladel to get sick too.

“It’s not that easy, Briareth!” Faladel takes a deep breath to calm himself and stares at the grandfather clock that tic-tocs away the time. “I’m doing the best I can, and right now that means making sure we all have a safe space to sleep, food to eat, and time to come up with a plan– one that doesn’t involve collecting hundreds of feathers.” He turns to me, smiling at his ability to read me. My coughing hasn’t stopped, in fact it’s getting rougher, more painful. “Briareth?” Faladel looks at me worriedly, “Are you okay?”

I try to nod, but my body is wracked with another coughing fit. Faladel pounds my back, until it finally ends and I suck in a long breath, putting my arm down. Faladel’s green eyes widen. “Briareth, your arm!” He exclaims, “I’ll go get Elen. What was the last potion she had you drink?”

I don’t answer, staring at my arm. It is flecked with blood. My blood. I must have coughed it up. My vision starts to swim and my head pounds more than ever. “I don’t think it was the tonic.” I mumble, remembering these symptoms. “Faladel!” I shout after him. He turns, already about to close the door to my room. “It’s not the tonic. I’ve had these symptoms before.”

“What is it then?” Faladel asks, confused and worried.

“I don’t know, but whatever was in that abandoned cave in the Dragons’ Nest caused it, I’m sure of that.” He frowns, not quite believing me, but not ready to dismiss me either. “While I was trying to leave that room,” I continue, eager to convince him. “I started coughing up blood, then I passed out, and you guys picked me up. Just being around that room was causing me headaches, even after it was emptied out.” Faladel frowns. I can tell he’s now seriously considering the possibility.

“So whatever was in there, whoever was in there, either caused lasting damage or is somewhere in the city now.” He takes this a completely different direction than I’d been thinking, but I like it.

“Exactly! We need to go out, find them, and get to the bottom of all this nonsense!” I proclaim, jumping off my bed. My head swims slightly at the abrupt motion, but I just go straight to the doorway walking it off. “If we can tie them to Chairholder Helios-Lime III, it will make proving our innocence a lot easier I’m sure!” My mind races ahead of myself– “I’ll go collect the feathers for the fake wings now, shall I?”

“Not likely.” Faladel says, eyes narrowing. “What we need to do is get you to a professional healer. Face it Briareth, your symptoms are worsening, you can barely walk straight.” I gasp, wondering how he knows. I thought my semblance of balance was pretty good! “You said next was the passing out, right?” Faladel continues taking no notice of my shock. “I don’t want you running around trying to fix all this while you’re sick.”

I see Elen walking past, holding a small cloth to her head. “Elen!” I beseech her. “Tell Faladel he’s being overly dramatic, will you? He thinks I’m going to pass out at any second.”

“You were literally just coughing up blood.” Faladel points out ruthlessly.

Elen immediately turns and comes over to us, reaching over Faladel’s shoulder to put a hand to my forehead. “You were coughing up blood? Oh dear…” She looks a little ill. “That’s not good, and Fin and some of his cousins are also beginning to complain of a headache, and I simply don’t have enough camomile to go around.”

“Are you all right?” Faladel looks at her, “You look a little peaky yourself.”

“Oh I’ll be fine.” Elen waves him away. “My headache isn’t too bad, it’s probably just the stress of all this. I asked Matriarch Niech if we could call for a proper doctor, but she doesn’t want to let any outsiders in. Since I was trained as part of my Exploring education, and not at an official medical school, I don’t have anyone I can trust implicitly. So we’re left with nobody.”

“Not nobody.” I say, “There’s never ‘nobody’. Surely you have some contacts who would put research on a new disease above the law?”

“Not everybody is as obsessed with breaking the rules as you are, Briareth,” Faladel shakes his head, but I see his smile. “Although…” It morphs into a frown. “Would you say this is a unique disease, Elen? Unique enough for it to be noted down in the history of your people?”

Elen blinks. “If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, it’s at least worth reaching out. Although I wouldn’t be surprised if it backfires terribly.”

“Wait,” I glance from one of them to the other. “What’s going on here? Who are we reaching out to?”

“A Chronicler.” Faladel’s face is grim. “We need professional help, Mattias Habernloch is likely to know many professionals in his pursuit of knowledge, and we have the continuance of a story that might interest him.”