I wish I could have talked to Mr. Scoresby some more, but despite starting my workday in the same building where he harnessed his mares, Sylph'ra and Lyl'ra, I really didn't get the chance.

"And this is how you comb the fur of scalehoofs," Moira explained to me the ins and outs of grooming these beautiful animals, while she demonstrated how to use the brush to clean areas of the animal not covered with scales or feathers. Those, of course, required different kinds of care and different tools.

"Not so easy, huh?" Moira smiled smugly as I finished grooming my first scalehoof under her supervision, my hands all sore, sweat covering my brow. She wasn't wrong. I actually wouldn't be surprised if cleaning scalehoofs was where she gained her muscle. However, I wouldn't say it was more demanding than stall cleaning - it was just a different kind of movement, one I wasn't used to.

"Yeah," I agreed nonetheless, wiping the sweat from my brow.

"Ready to move on to the next one, Grey?"

"W-wait a minute. Next one? This isn't something the owners pay for?"

Moira smirked. "Of course it is. But the stable master makes it mandatory to pay for one grooming per week. If not, a lot of those bastards wouldn't bother with their scalehoofs at all. I don't have to tell you what it would look like here then, right?"

Uncared for and unwashed animals, locked under one roof? No, it wasn't hard to imagine the spread of disease or various pests.

"What about people like Mr. Scoresby? He takes care of his mares."

"And thank the tits, the man's not the only one. But even folks like him pay. One never knows what will happen. I once got Mouse Pox and was unable to work for two fucking weeks - nearly starved to death. Or you can get mugged and beaten up. No matter how safe Castiana is, that shit still happens all the time. Just the other day, I heard about a half-Terr chick who almost got beaten to death."

'Shit! She wasn't talking about me, was she?'

"I s-see," I stammered, failing to pretend it didn't concern me.

"Anyway, if the owner takes care of their scalehoofs, the stable master will give them their money back - or rather deduct the coins from the next payment. But since it's the end of the week, we ought to do what we've been paid for."

'It was the end of the week? Did that mean a weekend, then?' Those two days at the end of the week used to be what I looked forward to the most. But somehow, even though it was by no means a modern concept, I had a hard time imagining that they would shave a non-working day out of the six-day week. Not that I was looking forward to the day off. I had my fill of days like those in the last year and a half - and they sucked. No, I was here to work and make a living.

"So, which scalehoof do you want to take on?" Moira asked and flinched with alarm as a neighing of scalehoofs swept through the building, giving me no chance to ask about days off.

»Me!«

»No, me!«

»Forget them, pick me!«

»Here, Lady!«

»No, my turn!«

"Tits! You sure are something else, Grey," Moira muttered, shaking her head in disbelief at the sight of the excited scalehoofs. "They tend to get excited when it comes to grooming day, but I've never seen them this excited." That was it, though. Just like yesterday, instead of prying into my shit, she went about her business. "I'll take Osi'ren, you... well, start wherever you want. You now know what to do."

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True, I did, but seeing the scalehoofs clamoring for my attention, I wished I didn't.

'How am I supposed to choose one over the other?'

─◇─◇─◇─

"So, no strangers came to the stables?" I asked scalehoofs to be sure as soon as I rarely found myself alone in the stable. "Nobody unusual?"

Of course, I backed it up with the appropriate intent behind my words.

»None.«

»No, Lady.«

»Noise outside.«

»Not here.«

"I see." Someone was sneaking around outside at night, but they didn't go inside the stables. Good. However, that didn't mean they didn't visit the other two buildings - something I would have to ask the scalehoofs there when I get a chance.

'When I get a chance.' Those words echoed in my skull with the force of a tolling bell, throwing my guts into a tailspin. 'Scoresby!' What if he - or anyone else, to be honest - driving out of the city was the chance the mind mages had been waiting for? I just couldn't shake the fear. Seriously, how hard then could it have been for them to ambush an unsuspecting merchant somewhere along the way, only for him to return to Castiana brainwashed?

'The bastards are in a hurry,' I had to remind myself to calm down. Doing something like that would eat up at least two days - as far as Scoresby's trip to Mitta was concerned, one day there, one day back. Unless they wanted to arouse suspicion, of course.

‘What about the others traveling to and from Castiana, though?’

"How often do new scalehoofs come here?" I asked thoughtlessly, thinking that mind mages could take advantage of anyone who came to the city, had an animal to ride, and was in need of stabling them.

»Not often.«

»Rarely.«

"Really, that's..."

"Still talking to them I see," Moria remarked, laughing, amused, when I, despite my all too good hearing, failed to notice her coming to check on me. "Didn't mean to jump you, but just so you know, Building Two is where the stable master stables the scalehoofs of his regular customers. If you want to chat with the new animals, you have to go to Building Three. Anyway, are you ready? It's lunchtime."

"Oh, yeah. Just finishing," I gushed, smoothing the stallion's feathers one last time.

"Good, are you coming with us to the Blue Chair, or...?"

The unspoken couldn't be more obvious: whether I'm gonna ditch them again? Honestly, “no” was already on the tip of my tongue. Going with them meant postponing my plans to buy new shoes for another day. Not to mention that to associate with me right now meant putting yourself in danger. But not going was akin to staying locked in my little cell - out of everyone else's reach, cut off from the world.

"Y-yeah, I'll go."

"Perky tits, you will?! Splendid. Naeryn keeps bugging me with questions about you."

'Mr. Hale's accountant?'

"S-she is?" I asked, concern seeping into my voice.

'Was she the one? The brainwashed one, told to find out as much as she could about me?'

"Ah, that look. Don't stress, she's like that all the time. Let her get close, and she'll want to know what hand you're wiping your ass with."

That didn't really help. On the contrary, someone like that seemed an ideal candidate for brainwashing.

'Or was she?'

On second thought, it might just be all the worse - more noticeable - if such a person suddenly changed. Someone withdrawn and not very talkative might have been a better candidate.

'Shit! I hate this, I hate this, I hate this mind-fucking shit!'

"You fine? Look, if...?"

"N-no. No, I'm fine. Just - this is the first time, you know..." I hinted at having never gone out to lunch with my coworkers. Not quite true, technically. There have been countless such sit-downs under my belt. Not one since I came into this world, though.

"Don't pinch your tits, Grey. You're going to lunch, not to war."