A man walked down a cobbled street. Dressed in robes of white and gold he had already attracted the attention of a small group of children who followed him down the street whispering among themselves. Soon they were joined by more, as word spread that one of the Revered had come to town.
The man turned to give the children a benign smile while fumbling at the pouch by his side. Soon, he was dropping small wrapped candies in his wake, and the children scrambled for the sweets. He pretended to be oblivious to the chaos behind him, all the while dropping a seemingly endless supply of sugary goodness. Adult citizens of the small town began to emerge from their shops and homes, and it wasn’t long before the whole procession became a parade of sorts, led by the seemingly clueless man as the spectators cheered and waved.
Long before the group reached the market square, the cheering and the delighted cries of the children was audible to the vendors working their stalls. Weaver Sennit heard the commotion as he put the final touches on the elegant braids of the young woman sitting in front of him.
“Oh shit,” he muttered under his breath.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, alarmed something had gone awry with her magic hairdo. When she looked back, she saw the old man gathering his belongings.
“Tell the rest of them to come back later,” he called over his shoulder as he headed over the Mrs. Chang’s dumpling stand.
“Trouble,” was all he said.
“I can still hear, you know,” Mrs. Chang replied. “It’s just another Revered. Stay calm and he’ll go away in a day or two.”
“’Sposed to be months before another visit. The clans are catching on,” he said, shaking his head.
“Maybe so, but nothing we can do about it. I’ll log out and message Anda.”
Mrs. Chang crouched out of sight behind her counter and disappeared.
Guess the Inside doesn’t see the threat the way we do, thought Mr. Sennit. Logging out was a famously unpredictable action, with a variety of possible outcomes for the Inside avatar that ranged from vanishing, to the appearance of unconsciousness, to being replaced by a bot with a limited script of behaviors. Generally speaking though, the safer the situation and the less eyes, the more likely a full disappearance. He figured the Inside just liked to keep everyone on their toes.
Now let’s see what we’ve got this time, he thought, turning to see the parade of Insiders fill the square. It was the man leading them who had his full attention. The Revered were the clan’s public face to the Tier Seven Insiders, members who, with the help of their clans, had maximized their reputation among the untempered masses.
This particular Revered had a round, smiling face under straight black hair. He was gently detaching himself from the children while speaking over their heads to the gathering adults. Mr. Sennit couldn’t make out what he was saying over the clamor of voices, but he could see hands gesturing and fingers pointing in his direction.
Oh boy. I should have logged out when I had the chance.
He contemplated making a break for it, but he knew this was a conversation he shouldn’t avoid. It wouldn’t be hard for a Revered to make his life difficult in the future, even though his own reputation with the Tier Sevens wasn’t half bad. He didn't depend on Insiders for much of his living, but there was no telling what could happen to some of his other friends if the clans decided to crack down.
“Nice day!” he called out as the man approached. “Nice robes!”
Loom weaving definitely wasn’t his thing, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate a nice piece of craftsmanship when he saw it. The white robes were silk, embroidered in gold, and he sensed powerful enchantments had been applied to them. He didn’t use Scan though, in case the Revered was looking for a reason to take offense.
The man kept a smile on his face as he placed a hand on Mr. Sennit’s shoulder and pulled him around to face away from the crowded square. Leaning his head in, he spoke in a low, friendly voice.
“Look, you lowlife scum. I wasted an entire day to come here. We’ll get back to that in a moment. This hair thing’s a new wrinkle, so local leadership wants to be nice to you. I disagree, but I’m just the messenger, eh?” He elbowed Mr. Sennit in the ribs, just a little too hard. “Here’s your golden opportunity.”
He went on to explain that if Mr. Sennit provided his services to the students from Hongse, Shin, Hindutva and Walden clans for free, he might be willing to overlook it if other clans were charged a few silver.
“Of course, you just can’t do this for anyone who’s not clan affiliated. If I hear about that happening, things will escalate.”
It had been a couple years since Mr. Sennit had spoken with a clan member, other than the students. This conversation made him feel weak and a little nauseous as four decades of humiliation and subjugation came roaring back.
Thank God they can’t get to me Outside anymore, he thought. If only I could have paid off the kid’s debts, I could tell this guy where to shove it for real.
He had found a new home at a small, independent land-reclaiming collective. There he was free to live how he wanted, as he provided a source of cash flow unavailable to most of the other residents. He paid them for shelter and simple services with real credits they could use to augment their meager existence. In turn, he got to swim and fish and do everything he wanted.
For the most part, he was saving credits to pay off the debt of his children and grand-children. That was still years away even with his newly robust income, as he felt it prudent to pay them off all at them same time.
His biggest fear was that he would die before that happened. Or maybe that was his second biggest fear, as his biggest fear was occurring exactly now. He ran some numbers in his head, speculating as best he could on just how much of his income he was about to lose, how many years it would add to his family’s bondage.
Meanwhile the Revered was still talking. “Speaking of escalating, I think it’s only fair that I’m duly compensated for this waste of a day. I’m sure you thought you could get away with working against Corp interest due to your location, but all you’ve really done is caused me personal inconvenience.”
Mr. Sennit could only marvel at how the man kept his tone so friendly as he began the process of squeezing him for credits.
“I have only a handful of silver to offer, my lord,” he said, hating himself for the genuine quaver in his voice as he kissed the man’s ass for all he was worth.
“Well, that’s a terrible surprise!” said the Revered. “I heard you were charging as much as ten silver per person. Whatever could have happened to cause you to lose all that money?”
Shit. Clan students have been talking. Oh well, it was worth a try.
“Hey!” A rough voice interrupted their little tete-a-tete. “That’s my Outsider. What do you think you’re doing?”
Anda stood a few feet away, his hands on his hips and a snarl on his lip. The Revered turned to survey well over six feet of leather-clad half orc and broke into an enormous smile.
“My dear sir! I don’t think we’ve ever met.”
Mr. Sennit could only chortle inwardly. He takes him for an Insider. This should be fun to watch.
Playing off of Anda’s cue, Mr. Sennit pretended to grovel. “I’m so sorry, noble Urglah. I’ll have the rest of your money for you very soon, I promise.”
“Maybe your friend here can cover for you.” Anda said, his hand drifting down to the spiked ironwood club hanging from his belt. “I could take those pretty white robes in payment.”
A burly shopkeeper intervened. “Don’t speak to Lord Tremblay that way!” he said, pushing between Anda and the Revered. The crowd in the square muttered in agreement.
“My mistake,” said Anda, as reputation loss notifications flooded his internal awareness. “I thought perhaps someone so noble and virtuous might be willing to help his good friend, Mr. Sennit.” This prompted more murmurings in the square, and a few reputation gains for Mr. Sennit.
This put the Revered in something of a bind. “Now let’s not be hasty. Perhaps this matter would best be discussed in private.”
“It’s not complicated,” Anda said. “Are you going to help your less fortunate friend or not? I’m sure someone with your reputation for generosity would assist an elderly tradesman.”
The Revered got a bit red in the face. “Perhaps the best way to protect my friend here would be to have you banned from Academy town.”
There were some nods from the crowd. “That might be easy, but would it be fair?” asked Anda. “I’d hate to see Academy Town start banning people just because they asked for what they were owed. Or perhaps it’s because of my race?”
The Revered sputtered for a moment. Due to its proximity to the Academy, Academy Town was known for its laws regarding tolerance and race. In many human villages around the Garden, a half-orc such as Anda would run into much more hostility and distrust. Finally he came to a decision.
“Well, it’s truly none of my business what has passed between the two of you. Honoring one’s debts is part of having a well ordered society, and its not my place to intervene. In fact, I was just discussing a debt owed to me by our mutual friend, which I have decided to forgive in full. I wonder if you can do the same?” He leaned back with a small smile, confident he had regained the momentum in their public discussion.
Mr. Sennit could barely keep himself from laughing out loud. Anda smiled in reply and applied his finishing move. He bowed deeply to the Revered.
“Your wisdom and goodness has opened my eyes and lifted my spirit!” he said. “Not only will I forgive what he owes, but I will return what he has already paid and protect him with my life hereforth.” He pulled forth a gold coin and gave it to Mr. Sennit with a wink.
There were oohs and ahhs from the assembled townspeople. Anda and Mr. Sennit both received notifications of reputation gain. In the background, several of the Fogeys who were present in the market square had awed expressions, other than Mrs. Chang, who was doubled over in silent laughter. The Revered became aware that expectant eyes were upon him.
He drew himself up and plastered a smile on his face. “What a wonderful gesture!” he proclaimed. “I suppose the matter is concluded. Now, please go about your days, while I have a word with Mr. Sennit.”
As the crowd began to disperse, the Revered drew Mr. Sennit to the side again.
“I don’t know what the hell that was,” he said, no longer bothering to keep his voice friendly. “But rest assured--” he broke off as he noticed Anda standing nearby listening. “Do you mind?” he asked.
“I have sworn to protect this esteemed tradesman,” Anda replied. “Even if he himself were to ask me to leave, I would stay by his side.”
The man looked at Anda with cold eyes. “I know you are tempered,” he said. “I haven’t gotten a rep notification from you yet. So believe me when I say you will come to regret your actions very much if you do not do as you are asked.”
“Perhaps as much as you might regret it when I bring my entire tribe to interfere with you and your assigned tasks,” Anda threatened in return. “I imagine your clan might look on that as a problem you have created. How many resources do you think they might be willing to spend to remedy your ineptitude? Or you can leave this man alone. I imagine there could even be a reasonable personal compensation for you, if you were willing to look the other way.”
The man shook his head. “It’s not that easy,” he said, “or I would be a much richer than I am. The Corp will continue to hear reports from the students of various clans at the Academy.”
“Can I just ask,” said Mr. Sennit, “Why? Why keep me from making an honest living? Why do the clans even care if a few independents flourish here or there?”
The man blinked. “Like I would know? It’s just common sense, I suppose, keeping the competition down. Look,” he said, “I’ll level with you. The best thing you could do for yourself is find a clan to take you on. I’m sure mine would be happy to take you as an associate and give you a decent wage. Then all these problems go away, see?”
“And how much do you think your clan would pay?” Anda asked.
“Can’t say. More than he’s going to make if we escalate things, that’s for sure.”
“I don’t buy it,” Anda said, folding his arms. “Short of turning the townsfolk against him, what can you do? You Outsiders can’t attack each other. He can just move out of town and work from there.”
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The Revered laughed. “Oh, you don’t want to see what comes after me. I’m sweetness and light compared to those guys. I’ve got a reputation to protect after all. So consider this your final warning, since you’ve made this a huge pain in my ass. Play along, or join up.”
“Or what?” asked Anda.
“Or we’ll send in the Reprobates.”
***
Magpie kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Maybe this is all a hallucination while I’m actually plummeting to a watery grave, she mused. That seems about equally likely.
Visitor, what brings you to the home of my clan? the man had asked. Right then, Magpie had known that her life was done. Game over. Had known it in her gut. Caught in the heart of the clan’s most private area, by one of the leaders of the clan, there was no way to run or fight her way out. Clan leaders were Rank Tens, every possible part of their body augmented to the fullest extent, weapons of mass destruction in human form.
Still, some small part of her had irrational hope. Maybe he’s talking to someone else, she could remember thinking. Maybe he’s lived so long he’s senile, and just says random things when no one’s around. Another small part of her began to speculate, to wonder why the man had waited until he was alone to speak.
She leaned back in the steam chamber, savoring the heat and enjoying the fact that she was clean for the first time in days. She still hadn’t ruled out the idea that the clan leader, Lord Josho, was senile. She couldn’t come up with a more plausible reason for why the old man, old in mind if not in appearance, had spared her. Not only spared her, but made her an honored guest.
People don’t do things like that unless there’s something deeply wrong with them. Or unless they want something.
What she could possibly offer to the leader of an entire clan was beyond her. Her talent set was somewhat valuable, she supposed, but he hadn’t known about that when he spared her.
Well, other than the fact that I was able to get where I was in the first place.
She had been expecting an interrogation on that subject. Surely the clan would want to know how a stowaway had made it onboard so they could close the hole in their security. But no. Nothing at all on the subject. Instead, Lord Josho had asked her about her childhood, about her nonexistent family, about what she liked to do, what she liked to eat. She had been so surprised, she hadn’t even bothered to lie. Much.
Then he had brought her to the guest quarters pavilion and instructed the servants to attend to her every need. She was getting the royal treatment with nothing asked in return, and it upset every fiber of her being. Even before she was brought to the guest quarters, she had been suspicious enough to ask Lord Josho if he had any connection to the Flock, a flagrant breach of secrecy on her part. It was the only reason she could imagine why she had not been imprisoned, interrogated and executed. But the Lord had denied knowing anything about the organization, and she certainly wasn’t prepared to push him on the subject.
It left her with impossibilities though.
Perhaps he’s so detached from reality by ruling for so long that he doesn’t think like a normal person anymore. Maybe I’m like a baby bird he found in his park, and he has a soft heart.
“Yeah right,” she said out loud.
“Did you require anything, Miss?” came a voice from the adjoining chamber.
“No, thanks. Just talking to myself.”
God, this place is weird.
“You know, on second thought, do you have a pod I could use?” she asked.
***
Playing back her conversation with Rosemallow, Lilijoy realized the crucial point she had missed in her pleasure at being taken just a bit more seriously by her trainer.
She said she was still thinking about how to help me. I should have run the second those words came out of her mouth.
‘Help’ and Rosemallow was a frightening semantic conjunction. Not only that, but her trainer was, evidently, in a bit of a hurry to shed all of the experience she was carrying around on Lilijoy’s behalf, claiming it made her feel bloated.
Thus, one extremely harrowing instanced travel later, featuring a pleasant jaunt through a fire wasp nest hanging over the edge of the caldera of an active volcano, Lilijoy, a still quite singed Skria, and Jessila were standing next to a jubilant Rosemallow at the entrance to a labyrinth. The labyrinth, to hear Rosemallow tell it.
“Do you know how long it’s been since I didn’t get an air theme?” Rosemallow was asking. No reply was necessary, or expected. “I’ve got to bring students along more often! And now we’re here!”
Lilijoy and Jess exchanged glances. “Yay?” Lilijoy offered weakly. Skria shivered, and Lilijoy couldn’t tell if it was due to her greatly reduced fur covering or the ambiance of their setting. The air was thick with moisture, cold and stagnant. Water on blackened brambles all around dripped into the pools at their feet. Lilijoy could feel tiny bubbles of gas rising between her toes where she stood, her weight releasing the breath of ancient decay.
“Just like old times!” Rosemallow proclaimed with a grin. “It should be just over there.” She waved her hand toward a mound of earth protruding from the vast bog surrounding them. Behind that mound, Lilijoy could see others, rising progressively into the foggy distance. A few skeletal trees did their best to break the monotony of rolling swamp.
“I’m missing classes. Are you sure this is approved by my advisor?” asked Skria through chattering teeth.
Rosemallow glanced over at Lilijoy and gave her a wink. “The old windbag was thrilled when I told her you’d have a crack at this place. No one’s been here for a century. I can’t wait to see how it’s… evolved.”
“So you’re coming with us?” asked Lilijoy.
Rosemallow scoffed. “Of course not. Hand holding won’t do you any favors.” She looked up at close-hovering clouds and took a deep breath. “No, I’ll be waiting for you at the end.” She turned back to the three students and unleashed an evil grin. “Just like old times.”
With that she crouched down and leapt, leaving a small crater of gurgling mud behind.
“She didn’t talk to Dean Reunification, did she?” Skria said.
“I doubt it.” Lilijoy replied. “But I’m really glad you came along.”
“Well, it seems like a pretty unique opportunity. No one will be trying to capture us this time, and we get to explore a little piece of history. At least that was the impression I got while your trainer was kidnapping me.”
“Yeahhh, sorry about that part. All I did was ask if you could come too.”
“We should start walking,” Jessila said. “Do you know where we are going?”
“Yes,” replied Lilijoy. “I have a really bad feeling that I do.”
***
It didn’t take them long to reach their destination. Upon approach, the mound of earth protruding from the bog appeared more regular in shape, almost a dome. Lilijoy could see hints of stone blocks showing through layers of moss and accumulated filth, as well as roots like vines draping themselves along the rounded sides.
“Door,” Jessila said, pointing to an encrusted hollow around the side of the structure from where they stood.
The thick, cold air of the bog-lands seemed to resist attempts at speech. Even Skria had remained silent over the course of their trek across the grasping mud and tufted grasses. The distant calls of ravens drifted by and twice a forlorn howl had reached their ears, the only signs that the area was not bereft of life. Lilijoy could appreciate the desolate beauty of the setting to some extent, but the clammy sensation of the air stripping the warmth from her body dampened her enthusiasm for any future visits.
“What is this place?” Skria asked.
“I think it used to be Rosemallow’s… lair,” Lilijoy replied. “From when she was evil. More evil,” she amended.
Jessila nodded. “She told me no one has been here for generations. Then she said we’d all probably regret this.”
Sounds about right, Lilijoy thought. “Let’s hope she was just trying to scare us.”
“I am already regretting many things,” Skria said. “First cooked, now this.” She shook herself to shed droplets of condensation from her fur. “Why bring us after all this time?”
Jess wiped her face and neck with a broad, callused hand and shrugged.
“I think she wants me to earn as much experience as possible in a short amount of time,” Lilijoy supplied. “Maybe she was saving it for the right moment?”
The door was almost as overgrown as the rest of the structure. They did their best to clear it off, which took some effort, as it was almost eight feet in height, two solid, unmarked slabs of stone with only the faintest crack between them. As more of the entry was revealed, it also became clear that the entire structure had sunk into the bog. The bottom of the door was nowhere to be found.
“Oh well,” said Skria. “Looks like--”
She was interrupted by Jessila throwing herself against the entry. There was a dull thud upon impact, and Lilijoy thought she saw a faint hint of movement.
“Hold on, Jess,” she said. “Let me take a look.”
With her Earthen Sense she could make out the structure of the door, the immense stone hinges set on the inside. The chamber beyond was rounded, an echo of the dome structure containing it and she could make out a single column of stone in the center. She could barely discern an empty space beyond the back wall, though there was no door she could see leading to it.
“I just wanted to make sure it was worth possibly breaking your shoulder,” she relayed to Jess when she was finished. “I don’t see anything holding them closed, and they do open inward.”
Thus encouraged, Jessila continued to throw her body against the door. After several tries, and a few healings, the crack between the doors parted. With one final rush, the doors opened entirely, releasing a small flood of muddy water into the chamber, and a musty smell of mold and old death out.
In the center of room, Lilijoy could now see the column was a pedestal. Sitting upon it was a shriveled, black skull, still adorned with strands of long black hair. Upon reluctant closer inspection, lumps of some black stone had been placed in the eyes and mouth.
The three of them stood around the skull for a minute as more water seeped around their toes. A thick white scum of dust and what Lilijoy guessed was powdered bone formed broad rings around the base of the pedestal, pushed there by the encroaching flood. The room had no other features, just curving walls of dark bricked stone that met almost twelve feet above their heads.
“Now what?” asked Skria.
“Well, this was Rosemallow’s creation. Whatever we’re supposed to do, it will probably be horrible,” said Lilijoy.
“And painful,” added Jess.
“It must have something to do with this skull. Maybe someone should pick it up?” Skria said.
Jess turned her head to look at Skria where she sat upon her shoulder.
“Sorry,” Skria said. “I guess I meant, maybe Jess should pick it up.”
“Fine,” Jessila said. “Yuck.”
She took one long step forward and poked at the skull tentatively. Lilijoy instinctively braced herself, but there was no response, other than the faint sound of old bone scraping across the stone top of the pedestal.
What did I think was going to happen? It’s not like the skull’s going to come to life or something; Emily got rid of that kind of stuff.
With a shudder, Jess picked up the skull at her maximum arm length.
“It’s light,” she observed.
“I was hoping there would be something underneath,” said Lilijoy. She had to hop up and down to see that the top of the pedestal was bare stone. The scummy water splashed around her ankles. “Is there anything inside it?”
“Just more rock.” Jessila turned the skull and tried to look more closely while still holding the skull at arm’s length.
Skria climbed along Jessila’s arm for a closer look. “What kind of stone is that?”
“Can I put it down now?” asked Jess.
Once Lilijoy looked closely at the black stone, she thought she knew what might be going on.
“Guys, I think that’s coal. Or jet. Same thing, I guess. Maybe we’re supposed to burn it?”
Skria looked at her skeptically. “What do you think that will do?”
“I don’t know. Rosemallow’s an earth mage. Maybe she did something to it.”
They spent another minute surveying the area, to rule out any other possibilities they may have missed, before finally agreeing that lighting the skull and coal on fire was worth a try. Soon the skull looked like a nasty black egg perched in a nest of kindling. Jessila lit it with a few strikes from her flint and steel, and they all stepped back to watch the magic happen.
After a few moments, Skria was the first to speak.
“Uh, I don’t think it’s working.”
Aside from the smell of smoke and a few strands of burning hair, the skull seemed entirely unperturbed. It wasn’t long before the last bits of kindling fell to ash and the flames extinguished.
“You’d think she would have made it easier to get in,” said Lilijoy. “As I understand it, she used to imprison people in the labyrinth and feed off of their struggles. Why make it so difficult?”
Jessila huffed. “Bait. Rescuing,” she hesitated, as if thinking it through. “Never easy,” she concluded.
“I don’t like it,” said Skria. “We’re supposed to struggle to get into the trap?”
“And then struggle even harder to get out. Sounds about right.” Lilijoy said. “Which makes me a little worried about what we’re actually supposed to do here. Just lighting a skull on fire can’t be the answer. The real solution is going to involve pain, I just know it.”
Rosemallow made this place before she was influenced by Eskallia. Long before she understood her path the way she does now. It could be her path was different to an extent back then. It makes sense that the old Rosemallow cultivated suffering and pain as much as struggle. She may not have even known the difference.
“I think we need to figure out the most horrible possible way this could work,” she suggested. “I bet the real answer is close to that.”
As soon as she said that, she thought of a possible solution. A truly horrible solution. It was so awful, she didn’t share it with the others for some time as they came up with various possibilities.
“Feed the skull with blood,” suggested Jessila.
“Maybe someone needs to hold the skull while it’s on fire?” was Skria’s contribution.
Finally, Lilijoy had no choice but to share her idea.
“I think this skull belonged to someone from the last party to come here.”
Her comment was met by silence. Then Skria spoke. “You don’t mean...we have to cut off one of our heads to use?”
“Respawn.” Jess said.
“I don’t care!” said Skria. “That’s not happening. We don’t even know if it would work. What if it didn’t do anything?”
“I guess we’d feel pretty dumb,” said Lilijoy. “But if it’s not that, it’s something just as bad, I just know it.”
Jessila shrugged. “I don’t see the problem. Respawn.” She held up her hands in a questioning gesture.
Lilijoy and Skria exchanged glances.
“It wouldn’t bother you to cut off my head and use it as a lamp?” Lilijoy asked. “’Cause that’s some serious nightmare fuel.”
“Eh.”
“Eh?” Skria repeated. “Eh? That’s all you can say about it?”
“What? Chop head, respawn, done.” Jess dusted her hands together. “Less harm than slaughtering a cow. Cows don’t respawn.”
“This is a very disturbing conversation. I would rather be in class.” Skria announced.
“Not to distract from the main point here,” Lilijoy said, “but does anyone have anything we could even chop with?”
Jessila pointed at her. “Knife.”
Lilijoy shuddered. “That would be more sawing, less chopping. Though the knife would be thrilled.”
I can’t believe we’re actually talking about this. How could Rosemallow put students in this position? I guess she must think the same way Jessila does.
She racked her brain for an alternative. She could try to find an evildoer from her Trial space and use them, but Jessila’s words about the cow stuck with her. They would respawn, while anyone else would be gone forever, even if they were a bad guy with a million iterations across all the Trials. It was a strange ethical dilemma.
She shelved that idea for the moment. While she was thinking, Jess and Skria were exploring the room further. Skria used her air magic to check for any cracks they may have missed, while Jess was pressing and prodding every single block she could reach. Lilijoy used her Earthen Sight to explore the open space behind the back wall, but all she could tell was that it remained open and descended.
“Maybe we can just break down the wall?” she suggested after she told them what she had found.
Jess shook her head. “Earth mage,” was all she needed to say.
“Great,” said Skria. She was clinging to the curve of the ceiling, looking for any irregularities. “This is a terrible place. Terrible.” She released her hold on the stone and glided down to the wet floor in a tight spiral. “Fine. My neck is thinnest. Use my head, and then we can move on. That way, I don’t have to be here when the gross stuff is happening.”
“But maybe we should use mine?” Lilijoy said. “My respawn is bound to be faster. I don’t want this to take any longer than it has to.”
Jessila just sighed.
“Let’s flip a coin,” Skria proposed. “Heads we use my head, tails, we use yours.”
The thought of coins triggered a new thought for Lilijoy.
“I have another idea,” she announced. “Who says the head needs to be off?”