"You're okay, Sean, you aren't hurt?"

I must look like a ghost to her, Parry thought. Best get her mind on something else.

"Go find the innkeeper, please? Bring him over? Thank you, Sean. The bad men are gone. Everything's going to be alright." He didn't believe himself, but he tried to smile through the exhaustion for her benefit.

She hesitated, hand holding the door, eyes wide even as the sheer whiteness of everything in the room constricted her pupils.

What does she...?

"Don't worry about the little kitty, he's fine, he's sleeping in my bag."

That seemed to be enough. She sprinted off down the short hall.

A different panic gripped Parry now. Just to do something, he righted the stool and table. A strip of perfectly white sheet--the thief had torn it off for a bandage--Parry stuffed into his pocket.

Nothing his assailants had brought with them remained, not their equipment, not their bodies, only the puddles of holy water...which he left as undisturbed as possible.

Everything in here is holy. What is it going to do? Parry tried to fit anything movable into his pack, from the lantern to the irons in the hearth, even the ash. He stripped off the bedding, but couldn't take the bucket, not wanting to spill whatever holy water was inside.

Hearing footsteps in the hall, he slung his bulging pack over his shoulder, straightened up, ran a hand through his hair. The two minutes he'd had to concoct a plan were up. There was no way this was going to work.

"What is the meaning of...!" the proprietor stormed into the room, any prepared speech dying on his lips. His eyes went wide.

"A miracle!" Parry said with all the innocence he could manage.

Sean stood just outside, shadows in the hallway making her seem almost ghostlike.

The barkeep looked totally baffled.

"W...what?"

"I was at my evening prayers to the Great Lady, and I asked her to bless the kind man who gave me shelter on my pilgrimage, and there was a great light! So very white!"

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Parry stepped right up to the man, reaching for his hand, hoping his own fatigue would show through as awe and revelation.

"My Great Lady loves good deeds, she loves that I was taking Sean to the guards to find her home, that you had given us a room. She gave us Her blessing!"

A dozen emotions chased themselves over the man's face, but none of them were disbelief. The impossible whiteness of everything, down to the boy's clothing and hair, it brooked no denial.

"What?" he gaped again.

"Oh thank you, Sir, thank you thank you! Thank you for your generosity and kindness. Sheltering us from any dangers of the road, when we had so few coppers to repay you!"

"Stop padding it out," Styak's voice cut through, still sounding hurt and strangely sniffling. "Keep a bluff this outrageous simple."

Parry smiled as angelically as he could, not only to disarm the baffled man but with relief that his familiar was criticizing him. It felt almost normal.

"Let us pray!" he pulled down on the older man's hand, sinking to his own knees, tugging. "A prayer of thanks for the Great Lady!"

Give someone a strange enough situation and they'll obey even an absurd order. The barkeep kneeled in his night-shirt, blinking.

"Bless...me? I'm not good," he stammered. Parry's touch on his wrists felt feather-soft, not a callus on those slim fingers, as if his entire skin has been renewed.

"Oh the Great Lady loves those who know they're not worthy, see? Look, it's proof! Everything here is holy now. It's all consecrated. How many wonderful pilgrims will come just to spend a moment in this room!"

Plant a seed of greed. Parry let his words hang in the air a long moment, until the corners of the man's mouth went from disturbed and grim to a faint smile.

"You will welcome other pilgrims, won't you? I'm sure the Great Lady will be so pleased. We don't have much money, but we know we have to share."

Keep pressing on the coins. Make him do the addition.

"Now we pray..."

Parry pretended to close his eyes, he moved his lips just a little as if in prayer. Silence in the middle of this absurdity, that's the fertile soil greed would grow in. He could almost see the barkeep's mind in motion, thinking how to exploit all this.

The boy stood. "I think this is a clear sign we have the Great Lady's favor, we cannot be harmed while under Her wing. We'll continue our pilgrimage right now, a light in the darkness, showing the way!"

"Four hells," came the disgusted comment.

"Come, Sean! We're free to move on!"

Parry really was praying that he'd make a good escape. There's no guarantee this bastard was going to react rationally. Who would, the whole situation was beyond thought.

Maybe it really was the nature of consecrated ground, but the man just nodded, clearly spinning his mental wheels, while Parry grabbed Sean's small hand and stepped out into the street. Almost safe now, almost safe. He was so tired.

"Sean, I need you to take me to the guardhouse at the edge of town. Not the one by the docks. Show me to the one where the highway begins towards Baronston. You're going to have to lead me, Sean. It's too dark. I'm blind."