“That was quite instructive,” Tzi's Grimoire commented as she headed up the path toward the inn, Kino and her family having gone back down the other branch in the direction from which they'd come. Which, apparently, was south.

“I noticed you kept quiet in front of them,” Tzi replied.

“It seemed wisest; I would be very surprised if these Mirbals have encountered talking books before, and the situation was tense enough, at least at first. I thought it best not to add any element which might agitate them further. You did a succinct job of explaining the drawbacks of Conjured food, master.”

“I hope so,” she murmured, tossing her new sazja fruit from hand to hand as she walked. Kino had insisted on trading some of their bounty for the Conjured smoked meat Tzi had given them. It seemed they had made the trip to this region specifically to visit the sazja grove and load up during the fruits' brief growing season, and indeed, their backpacks had looked very laden. Tzi was starting to get the impression everything on Xyzz had a brief growing season, and she, unlike the Claedh, didn't know when they fell. “They seem like they forage for a living; somebody who can make free food would be incredibly popular to people like that. If they keep coming back... Well, I wouldn't mind company, not to mention help in navigating this place. But it sounds like I'm gonna have to be spelunking possibly cursed Syrr ruins and fighting off Khetri. Anybody who comes with me...”

She trailed off, a frown falling over her face to match the shift in her mood. And the day had started out so well. It wasn't really a surprise that getting home was going to involve risk and danger, but somehow having the details of why was depressing. Tzi shook her head forcefully, determined not to wallow in a mood that would damage her psy. Depressing or not, it was progress.

“In fact, master, before you get much closer with any of the Claedh Mirbals, I recommend finding the opportunity to speak with the Khetri if you can.”

“Oh? Kino made the Khetri sound like pretty nasty customers.”

“From her perspective, master, they must be. But read between the lines. The Claedh are an ethnicity of hunter-gatherers living in small nomadic family groups. Based on Kino's description, the Khetri are a more advanced, agricultural society with metalworking technology and some degree of military organization. Two such societies have irreconcilable ways of life, and unfortunately for the Claedh, the struggle between them for territory and resources is, historically speaking, a foregone conclusion. The Khetri would inevitably force the Claedh out, possibly without holding any real malice toward them. We should consider Kino's emotional state and investment in this conflict when judging her words.”

“Still,” Tzi mused, frowning. “That bit about testing Syrr curses on people...”

“Disturbing indeed if true, master. Do keep in mind your own needs, though. It is probably best not to become embroiled in the political conflicts of the Mirbals, but if it comes down to taking a side, the Khetri probably have a great deal more to offer. You need, specifically, to learn more magic, and unless the Innkeeper becomes markedly more cooperative or more Travelers appear, the Syrr are your best hope. Apparently they have left behind enough magical relics that wizards have been coming from our world in search of them for a long time. And it is the Khetri who will have the greatest access and familiarity with those.”

“I don't like the mercenary tone you're taking,” Tzi warned.

“Of course, master, moral judgments are your prerogative; I am not equipped for them. It is my task to analyze and present options based on available information.”

“True,” she agreed. “But there's also the fact that the Khetri might prove hostile to me, specifically. If they want Syrr relics and Travelers are known to want Syrr relics, I'm automatically competition.”

“A valid point, master. Much depends upon their mindset; they may consider you unwelcome competition, or a potentially useful source of cooperation. Either way, we should approach them when we can, and we should do so with great caution. At the absolute minimum, we cannot afford to proceed in ignorance of the Khetri. They are clearly a significant local power.”

“Yup,” she muttered, bouncing the sazja fruit on one palm. “Hm. I think the most correct thing you said just now was that getting involved in local politics is probably a bad idea.”

“Let us hope it remains possible to avoid it, master. More immediately, I am concerned about Kino's description of the orbits of these moons.”

“Why's that?”

“Master, if she was correct, and I see little reason for her to either lie about it or speak so authoritatively in ignorance, this planetary system makes no sense. We already know that Xyzz has gravity so similar to our world's as to be nearly identical, which means it must be roughly the same size. And yet, it orbits Vaila, another moon? Which itself orbits Dysland? For that to occur, Vaila would have to have considerably greater mass. And thus, greater gravity, which calls into question Kino's claim that the Claedh live there; if they are adapted to this level of gravity they would fare poorly in much higher. If anything, their generally spindly build indicates they evolved in lighter gravity than this, not heavier.”

“If they're right, though, they didn't evolve. The Syrr created them.”

“If they are right. But back to the point, for these greater moons to then be orbiting Dysland... The gas giant itself would almost have to be a star, in terms of mass and volume. It clearly is not; it isn't luminous enough, and at this proximity its radiation would incinerate us. Astronomically speaking, Kino cannot have been accurately describing these orbits. And yet, she is in a position to know the relation of the moons to one another, as they would be very useful to nomads in navigating, and I cannot see why she would deliberately deceive us.”

“If something is clearly real and yet does not make sense,” Tzi said, quoting one of Master Knauer's aphorisms, “you are missing something important.”

“Indeed, master. Local astrophysics might be more relevant to our interests than it seems at a glance, especially if we intend to teleport off this moon.”

“I'll keep my eyes peeled for new info on that,” she promised, turning the corner at the Inn's gate to take the path up to its door. “But one thing at a time.”

“Rooms are ten chips a night,” the Innkeeper announced in his bored tone when she entered.

“Meals two chips apiece,” she parroted right back at him. “Do you ever move?” He was still slumped in his chair, in apparently exactly the same position, straw hat pulled down half over his face.

“Do you ever stop asking annoying questions?”

“Not so far.” She shut the door behind her and headed for the stairs. “I'm going to go talk with your resident staff.”

“Talk to me when you have business to transact, and kindly not otherwise.”

Tzi rolled her eyes and vanished up the stairwell out of his sight. At least, in theory. She wasn't sure exactly how much he could see at all.

“How'd you get 'agricultural,' by the way?” she quietly asked her Grimoire while climbing the steps. “Kino didn't mention anything about farming.”

“Farming is probably unfamiliar to her, but she mentioned unusual food supplies. And the Khetri's large population is a dead giveaway, master. Only societies with intensive food production can expand in that manner.”

Tzi nodded as the Grimoire settled back into its pouch, and stopped in front of the door to the Mirbals' room. There she paused, feeling suddenly nervous for some reason, and went through a short breathing exercise to still her mind. In slowly, out slowly, experience only breath, let thought and emotion flow past untouched. Finally, after that short pause, Tzi raised her hand and knocked.

Almost immediately she wondered if anybody but the bedridden Mirbal would be home. They were supposed to be working around the inn, right? What if both were off doing that? Maybe she should have explored the stairs to the attic, or poked into some of the other rooms... Might it be easier to have this conversation someplace not right in front of the sick boy?

Fortunately the door opened before she could maunder on this long enough to erase the benefit of her breath exercise.

In the gap appeared a small face surmounted by a crest of fur, which apparently only female Mirbals had, if those she'd met thus far were typical. The woman's expression was wary, which made sense as she probably did not get many visitors; her eyes widened in surprise at seeing Tzi, but then, oddly, she looked slightly disappointed. At least she finished opening the door, however, and managed a smile.

“Hello again,” she said in a soft voice. “I wasn't expecting to see you.”

“Hi!” Tzi replied. “Do you have time to talk?”

At that, her expression turned to startlement. “Oh! You speak now. I'm sorry, I...”

“Don't worry about it,” Tzi said with a smile. “There's a spell I had to learn that lets me speak to Mirbals. I had to do that before coming back, or there wouldn't be much point. Sorry for all the confusion before.”

“It's fine,” the Mirbal said quickly. “I'd wondered why you didn't have our language when every other Traveler did... They talk by magic? I suppose that makes sense. Oh! I'm sorry, please, come in!”

She stepped back, pulling the door wider and beckoning Tzi inside.

The room was much as before. There was a different quilt over the Mirbal in the bed, but aside from that nothing much had changed. The older man sat at the bedside, while the sick boy lay in the same position. He seemed better, though, or at least more lucid; at Tzi's entry, he opened his eyes and shifted his head to watch her.

“How's he feeling today?” she asked softly, the inwardly winced. Would a word like “today” even translate? Her hostess didn't appear to notice any discrepancy, however.

“He has been much better since your magic,” she said, going to sit on the edge of the bed and smile down at the boy, tucking her tail carefully out of the way. “He's been able to eat and get up briefly, but his fever has started coming back...”

Tzi sighed. “Yeah...I'm afraid it's going to keep happening. He's not sick, he's cursed. I wanted to tell you before, but I didn't have the words yet.”

“We know,” the man on the other side of the bed replied. “He told us how it happened. Daer went too close to the Gate, and the Khetri caught him and used him to test some Syrr thing they found.”

“Everyone knows to stay away from the ruins in the lake,” the woman added bitterly. “They're dangerous even compared to other Syrr ruins. The Raihan won't even fish in that lake. And Daer should have known to stay away from the Khetri.” Her tone grew even more exasperated, and she gently smoothed back the fur atop his head with one hand.

He blinked slowly, apparently lucid enough to make a sheepish expression, but didn't comment.

“Daer, then?” Tzi said with a smile. “It's nice to meet you finally. I'm Tzi.”

“Oh! Forgive me, I'm so distracted lately.” The woman stood up and nodded her head deeply. “I am Scisia. This is my mate, Dakin, and of course you know our son Daer. Well met, Tzi. And thank you for helping him, even a little.”

“A little is all I can do for the moment. Actually, I was hoping to be able to do more, but I need your help to figure out how.” She pulled out her wand. “First, though, let's see if I can't give him a little boost.”

The adults stood back while she formed the sigil for Healing, and expelled a soft wave of magic at the bedridden Mirbal. It actually went better than her previous try; nagging concern about Syrr and Khetri formed an impediment to her psy, but overall she was feeling much calmer and more optimistic after the string of minor successes that had come since she woke up. Not being hungry helped, too. Pale green and gold light suffused Daer, and he blinked rapidly as it faded.

After a momentary pause, he began struggling against the heavy quilt, trying to pull himself upright. His father immediately hastened to help.

“So that wasn't just a fever dream,” Daer said somewhat hoarsely.

“I told you a Traveler helped heal you,” Scisia replied with wry fondness. “What, you thought your mother was imagining things?”

“No, mother, of course not.” He grinned up at Tzi. “It's just...that doesn't feel like anything I've ever experienced. It's so...tingly. What did you do?”

“Daer,” Dakin reproved, “it's rude to question someone who goes out of her way to help you.”

“I don't mind at all,” Tzi assured them quickly. “It makes perfect sense to me to want to understand magic that's being done at you. It's a very simple healing spell—the only kind I know, I'm afraid. It won't do much for really serious or complex injuries or diseases, but it heals little bumps and scrapes, or minor illnesses. Basically, it just makes you feel better. But it's a stopgap measure, here. I can't identify or remove that curse, which means the symptoms are just going to come back with time.”

Dakin had fetched a waterskin from the nightstand and was now helping his son drink, which prevented Daer from answering. Scisia stepped in, though.

“We don't have very much to offer you, I'm afraid, but what's ours is yours, Tzi. We have some food saved...”

“I don't need any,” Tzi said hastily. “But by the way, thank you very much for the food last time. I was really hungry; that kept me going until I found the sazja grove.”

“Oh...the sazja are in season,” Scisia said, frowning. “I should go gather some while there are still any left. I had hoped one of the other families would come visit, but I guess everyone is too scared of the Khetri.”

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“Actually, I ran into Kino's family on the road—”

Tzi broke off in surprise as all three Mirbals jerked up, their faces positively alight.

“Kino is here?” Scisia asked eagerly. “Where? Is she coming to the inn?”

“I...spoke to them at the crossroads,” Tzi replied. “I, uh, don't think so. I'm sorry, I didn't think to mention anybody was here. They went to the grove to load up on fruit and then went right back south again.”

“Oh.” Scisia looked so disappointed that Tzi felt guilty for delivering that news. “Well. I surely don't blame her for that. We lingered too close to the Gate, and look what's happened.”

“So...you know Kino, then?”

“My cousin,” Scisia explained. “All the families on Xyzz know each other; we aren't all related directly, but every family is related to some other family here. It's a good blend, close enough that you can always find kin, distant enough that the young can always find a mate. Until the Khetri found the Gate, Xyzz was a good, safe moon to bring children. It doesn't have unexplored reaches or surprises like Vaila. Once you know where the dangers are, they're not hard to avoid. Even Travelers have never bothered with Xyzz; I think you might be the first. Well, aside from the Innkeeper, but I don't know if he even counts. Now we're all stuck here, though,” she said with a heavy sigh. “No way to go home to Vaila, or find out if our family or friends there are still all right...”

Tzi's mind had hung up momentarily on the statement that every Mirbal family on this planet was acquainted. That certainly didn't seem credible, but she did not know enough about the Mirbals, or Xyzz, or anything on Dysland, to form an objection she was sure would be valid. And that issue wasn't really the pertinent topic, here, though she filed it away for later consideration.

“Okay...that's as good a starting point as any,” said Tzi. “What's going on with the Khetri, and the Gate, and this curse? The more you can tell me, the better prepared I'll be to figure out a way to lift it.”

“Oh, you...you don't have to go to trouble like that for us,” Scisia assured her, though she clenched her hands in the fabric of her garment, trying and not entirely succeeding to keep desperate hope away from her features. Dakin was even less persuasive, clutching Daer's hand and staring at Tzi almost hungrily. “Really, it's very dangerous. Syrr curses are a hazard even to Travelers, and there are always the Khetri...”

“Well, here's my situation,” Tzi explained. “The truth is, I'm not even a full wizard; I'm just an apprentice. I walked in on my master doing...something he shouldn't. So he banished me to Xyzz to stop me from telling the other apprentices what he was up to.”

“You poor child!” Dakin whispered, aghast.

She smiled ruefully. “I'm getting used to the place, slowly. But I don't have the magic to get home...or to do much, really, except wander around bumbling into trouble, which I would rather not do. What I need is to learn more magic. And unless I happen to meet more Travelers, because the Innkeeper is not helpful, the only source of magic and knowledge for me is what's left by the Syrr.”

“That is what brings most Travelers to Dysland,” Scisia said with a pensive frown. “But I think you are courting greater trouble than you know, Tzi. Even experienced Travelers can run afoul of the evil the Syrr left behind; I myself have seen some of their remains. If you're just a learner...”

“Yeah,” Tzi said, sighing. “Yeah, I know. But this is my only idea. So! I've gotta deal with Syrr relics and Khetri eventually, and truth be told, I don't even really know where to start. So it seems to me that in addition to being the right thing to do, helping with Daer's curse is a good starting point. It's a small, probably achievable goal instead of a big, impossible one. You're not imposing on me by letting me help, in other words, you're helping me begin my own journey here.”

Scisia drew in a deep breath as if to steady herself. Then, suddenly, she smiled.

“Well, then! If we are going to help each other, I won't feel right unless I do my part. At the very least, I will not have a guest in my campsite going hungry.”

“Oh, that's okay,” Tzi said hastily, “I've learned to Conjure food at need—”

“Made-up magic food cannot be as good for you as the real thing,” Scisia said firmly, and Tzi had to wonder if she knew how accurate that was. “Wizard from another world you may be—but you're also a young woman lost and on her own. I'll not stand for you being poorly looked after, not if there's anything I can do about it.” She smiled broadly, the expression oddly smug. “After all, Tzi, there is a big difference between 'not starving' and having a good, cooked meal.”

----------------------------------------

The room looked rustic by her standards, but its design was actually rather clever. It came complete with a folding table which raised, drawbridge-style, to rest invisibly against the wall, and there were two folding chairs which stowed neatly behind the wardrobe when not in use. The room's fireplace was small, but clearly adequate for cooking; at any rate, Scisia's family had a pot of stew going, which it seemed was ready based on how quickly they put together a meal. Dakin went downstairs to borrow crockery while Scisia laid out a bowl of nuts and dried berries and a bottle of fresh water.

Sitting arrangements were a little awkward and it was cramped around the small table, especially with Tzi feeling like a giant taking up an entire side. Dakin and Daer made do by perching on the end of the bed, the latter having insisted on being up to sit with them while he felt well enough to do so.

Awkwardness aside, the stew was excellent. After hunger and then making do with what she could find and Conjure, it was wonderful to taste something actually cooked, by someone who actually knew how. It spicing was unfamiliar but delicious, the flavor of whatever herbs added pleasantly bitter yet oddly smooth, not unlike unsweetened vanilla. It paired very well with the pale meat and roots in the stew; Tzi had never tasted the like. The Mirbals were amused at her pausing to Divine her bowl.

“Xyzz's Gate is right on the shore of the lake to the north,” Scisia explained over the meal, once they were all settled in. “There are ruins around it, but nothing immediately dangerous. All the Gates on every moon have the remains of old buildings around them, and they're all pretty safe. The one on Xyzz is close to real danger, though, which is why more people don't come here despite it being an easier place than Vaila. In the lake itself, just to the north, there's an island that's covered with Syrr ruins. The ruins are actually bigger than the island; they extend underwater for a distance. It's mostly stone and metal, like most Syrr stuff, so it's fairly easy to avoid...mostly. Sometimes things float loose, though. You can get a curse from eating something caught in the lake, or picking up driftwood that got too close to something evil inside. The only safe thing is to stay away from the lake. People used to come through the Gate and immediately get away as fast as they could go. I think that's why the inn is here; it's about the same distance from the Gate, the shore to the south, and the pass through the mountains to the east.”

“Hmm.” Tzi swallowed a bite of stew. “What about the Hollow? That's west of here, right?”

Scisia looked startled at that, but nodded. “Yes...actually, now that you mention it, that's roughly the same distance, a little less.” That put the Gate and the Khetri within easy walking distance; useful when it was time to check them out, as she would eventually have to, but unnerving to have breathing down her neck. “Did Kino tell you about the Hollow? What brought that up?”

“Oh... Well, they told me what it's called, but I asked. That's where I arrived.”

Daer straightened. “On the stone platform?”

“Yes, the one with the obelisks and the glowy bits,” Tzi said, nodding. “Anyway, the valley itself seems pretty peaceful so I made a camp up there—”

“What? No!” Scisia stared at her in clear horror. “Tzi, you can't sleep in the Hollow!”

“Well, I can't sleep in the inn,” Tzi said, scowling. “I've not nothing to trade to that guy for room and he doesn't need any work done with you guys here. If I have to sleep outside, I'd rather it be in a place I know animals avoid so I don't get eaten by a vruph or jaggaban or who knows what else in my sleep.”

“That's...reasonable, as far as it goes,” Dakin said worriedly, “but Tzi, animals avoid the Hollow for a reason.”

“Apparently there's a door, there?” Tzi shrugged. “I haven't found that, but so long as I don't go into it, I should be fine, right? Have you ever heard of anybody coming to harm from being in the valley itself?”

Scisia and Dakin glanced at each other, wearing matching frowns.

“It's always smartest to stay away from places animals won't go near,” Scisia replied. “That usually means leftover Syrr evil, or some other danger. No, I haven't heard of any specific harm from the Hollow itself, all the stories are about going through the door up there. But still.”

“Still,” Tzi said with a smile, “I'm a wizard, apprentice or no. I'm better prepared to deal with magical dangers than wild animals. So, about these ruins: people pick up curses from them? What can you tell me about those?”

“It's been a long time,” Scisia said thoughtfully, “since everybody has known to be wary of them for generations now. But Syrr curses are...well, long ago, they kept Mirbals as slaves. Most of the magic we come across left by the Khetri is all relating to that. Spells that either kill people who get too close to something the Syrr didn't want people to mess with, or...spells that weaken or incapacitate people. Sometimes they make you sick, like Daer.” She paused, giving her son a worried look. “Sometimes they just make someone physically weak, or make them fall asleep and never wake up until they starve to death.”

“There's the Raihan by the stone on the shore,” Dakin reminded her.

“Yes! Up on the lake's eastern shore, there's a stone that was part of the Syrr structure once, and the skeleton of a Mirbal who was trapped by it. She couldn't leave, it would tug her back. Her family brought food, but they had to throw it to her because nobody else could get close...” She trailed off, shaking her head. “The stories are filled with warnings about Syrr curses. Some of them are worse. But those are old stories; all the things I've heard of happening to people in my lifetime is simpler stuff. Illness, weakness, sleep, pain, things that could happen normally, except they don't heal or go away.”

“Sometimes they do,” Dakin said, almost defiantly.

Scisia nodded. “Yes, warm heart, sometimes. That's...what we hope for. Until you came along, that hope was all we had. That maybe this one would fade in time...”

Tzi rubbed her chin thoughtfully, gazing at Daer, as both his parents now were, to his clear discomfort. “What, specifically, were you doing when you got cursed? Maybe that'll tell me how to start removing it.”

He sighed. “It was the Khetri.”

“It's usually the Khetri,” Scisia said bitterly, reaching over to stroke the back of Daer's head. “Only the very unlucky or very stupid get themselves cursed by accident, anymore. Everyone knows not to mess around with Syrr relics. But the Khetri dig these things up, and want to find out what they do, so they'll subject someone to them and check. Which is exactly why Daer shouldn't have been anywhere near that lake!”

“I didn't know I was that close,” he protested weakly. “They made their camp and they haven't done anything but dig in the ruins for two full turns now, I didn't realize they had people hunting around the lake shore. But they caught me, and...”

He trailed off, and Tzi glanced at Scisia uncertainly.

“When the Khetri catch someone,” Dakin picked up the tale, “sometimes they'll try to get them to join them as a servant. You can't become more than that in their society unless you are a Khetri, but they'll take in Mirbals who are willing to swear to their insanity and use them for work.”

“Insanity?” Tzi prompted.

“They think the Syrr were gods,” Scisia said, shaking her head in disbelief. “They pray to them. It's madness. Everyone knows what the Syrr were like. Even if we didn't have the stories to tell us, it's obvious enough what happens to people who mess around in their ruins.”

“But the Khetri do,” Tzi murmured thoughtfully. “They must have a means of protecting themselves from curses.”

“Their priests can lift curses, yes,” Daer said. “That's one of the ways they get people to obey them. Put them under a Syrr curse and offer to remove it if they'll comply. They have...relics. They've been digging up Syrr trash across all the moons, collecting everything they can get some use out of. Some of them are things the Syrr used to lift curses, I think. The Khetri priests, some of them, have those, and pretend it's their own power when they use them.”

“How'd you get away?” Tzi asked quietly.

He grinned—weakly, but with a sheer pleasure in his own cleverness that she could relate to. “I pretended the curse weakened me a lot more than it did, so they weren't watchful. Then I ran back to mother and father.”

“They followed him, too,” Scisia said bitterly, “but we got to the inn in time. Even Khetri don't want to mess with the Innkeeper, and he won't have fighting in his place. I haven't seen them back since; apparently they don't think one Claedh is worth bothering with.”

Tzi nodded and had another heaping bite of stew, considering these things. She could well imagine the Innkeeper was able to enforce the peace, remembering how neatly he had removed her from the premises. More immediately, there was a simple, even obvious solution to Daer's problem...which had even more obvious drawbacks.

“What would you say,” she asked after swallowing, “are the chances of getting one of those curse-lifting relics from the Khetri?”

Dakin snorted. “For us? No chance at all. They would never relinquish one of those. You, with your magic? You would know better than we would, Tzi. Just be aware that doing so would involve probably killing a lot of them and destroying their camp, and after you've done that they will never stop hounding you.”

“Well...it's a way,” she murmured. “I think we'd better look for something easier first, though. That puts me back at finding Syrr relics of my own, ideally without getting cursed or worse. Where can I look for them?”

Scisia heaved a deep sigh. “This is too, too dangerous. As much as we need the help, Tzi, I really think you had better not. You haven't lived on the moons of Dysland; all you have to warn you of the dangers of Syrr ruins is what we've told you. You can't know how bad it truly is.”

“I still have to get home,” she insisted. “One way or another, I have to do this. But I appreciate the warnings.”

“You could stay here, you know,” Dakin pointed out. “Travelers do decide to stay, sometimes. They become part of life. Everyone knows the Innkeeper and the Tinker. I've heard of a few others on distant moons.”

Tzi shook her head. “I don't belong here. This place...it's so alien, everything is wrong to me. I need to go back where I have a place.”

“You have a place wherever you make one, child,” Scisia said gently.

“You can't imagine what it's like,” Tzi whispered. “Even less than I understand about the Syrr. To look up at the sky and see that huge planet and its rings and all its moons... Just being here, I'm constantly afraid I'm going to fall off into space. I can't center myself or...” She trailed off, swallowed heavily, then shook her head again. “Well, anyway. Syrr relics. Obviously, the lake is out until I'm ready to try dealing with Khetri. What else is there?”

Scisia and Dakin shared a long, loaded look. It was Daer who answered.

“Well, the closest place is the Hollow...”

“I haven't seen anything there except the stone pad I landed on,” she said.

“That's not a reliable way, anyhow,” Dakin added. “All the stories say the door isn't always there. Some people have visited the Hollow and never seen it; others practically fell in.”

“Actually,” Daer said bashfully, “it's just hidden. Unless you know where to look, you can easily miss it. But it's straight across the valley from the crack that leads in. Just walk right across to the wall on the other side and poke around there, you'll find it if you've got eyes.”

Scisia turned to glare at him. “Daer. You didn't.”

“I like to explore!” he protested. “You know that!”

“Yes, and look where it's got you!”

“I didn't go in, mother, I'm not stupid!”

“Not stupid, he says!” She threw up her hands in exasperation.

Tzi, struggling to repress a grin, cleared her throat. “That's actually really helpful. I don't suppose you can give me any hint about what's on the other side of this door?”

“'fraid not,” Daer said with a shrug, avoiding his mother's stare. “Like I said, I wasn't crazy enough to go in there. If the stories were weird, that would be one thing, but they're just of people who don't come out. That's not a nonsense rumor, it's a straightforward danger. It's smarter to know where something like that is,” he added pointedly, glancing at Scisia. “But not to get too close to it.”

“Too close,” she said acidly. Daer ducked his head, mumbling something.

“Well, it's a start, anyway,” Tzi mused. “With magic I can go slowly, hopefully identify the dangers before wandering into them. That's an advantage none of the Mirbals who went in there had.” Not that she knew a specific spell for doing that, but she could consult her Grimoire for ideas. Tzi had a feeling trap detection would really be pushing the limits of Divination. A thought suddenly sprang to her mind. “Have you heard any stories of Travelers investigating the Hollow?”

Dakin shook his head negatively. “Apart from the Innkeeper and you, I never heard of a Traveler coming to Xyzz.”

“One must have, at some point,” she murmured. “They left that stone in the sazja grove. It contains the spell that lets me speak to you.”

“Is that what that thing is for?” Daer asked, his tone fascinated. He immediately subsided under his mother's grim stare.

Scisia, having silently made her point to her son, turned to Tzi. “If you are determined to do this, you can't go alone. When you're ready to set out, I'll get my spear and—”

“Scisia, warm heart,” Dakin interrupted softly. “The inn.”

She hesitated, then sighed and closed her eyes. “Of course.”

“What about the inn?” Tzi asked, torn between relief and disappointment. Help from a native would have reassured her tremendously in exploring Xyzz's dangers, but on the other hand she could only feel guilty about dragging any of the Mirbals into the kind of trouble it seemed she would have to court.

“Our arrangement with the Innkeeper for this room,” Dakin said apologetically. “It only needs one of us to be on hand to attend to tasks... But we must also have someone to tend to Daer. The inn has been mostly quiet, but it has repeatedly occurred that our son needed attention while one of us was out of the room doing chores. I am so sorry to be so unhelpful, Tzi, but neither of us can afford to leave the inn.”

“I'm feeling much better,” Daer said defiantly.

“Now you are, thanks to Tzi,” Dakin replied with mingled fondness and exasperation. “But we already know the fever will come back, and soon, and it gets so that you are barely even lucid. We could only leave you if Tzi moved in permanently to heal you over and over, which would negate the whole purpose.”

“That's not a good idea, anyway,” Tzi added. “Repeated or excessive Healing can mess up your body's ability to maintain itself. In the long term that just makes a person sicker. I'll help you when I can, Daer, but we'd better not overdo it, and the focus should still be on a permanent cure. Since the Innkeeper's not gonna help or anything,” she said, twisting her lip bitterly. “He undoubtedly has strong enough magic to break this curse himself, but then he'd lose his free servants.”

Scisia and Dakin exchanged a glance.

“Perhaps he does,” she said in a neutral tone, “but that kind of magic is more than we can afford to trade for.”

“The Innkeeper is fair,” Dakin said quickly before Tzi could voice her opinion. “That's all he is. He's not stingy and he's not generous; he is fair. He gives fair trade for fair trade. If you take a task for him and perform beyond what he asks, he will add compensation; if you don't do it up to his expectations, he won't pay the full amount. He won't accept gifts and doesn't do favors. Everyone on Dysland knows not to try bargaining with the Innkeeper.”

“I don't see how that's fair,” she huffed. “He's sitting on the kind of power that could really change things here. Just...hoarding it.”

“Well, Travelers are a thing unto themselves,” Scisia said with a fatalistic shrug. “No offense to you, Tzi, but Mirbals have learned long ago not to expect too much or hold your kind to the same standard as our own.”

“I see,” Tzi replied, frowning heavily. She didn't see, at least not fully, not yet. But the picture was beginning to form, anyway. Of Mirbals, both Claedh and Khetri, of the vanished Syrr and unpredictable Travelers.

The more she learned, the more ominous they all began to appear.