Midway through a dream about roasted turnips and butter, someone tripped over Balbinus’s legs. He started up, grabbing for something- finding his pen, which wasn’t a good defensive weapon- and trying to rise to his feet.

There was a clang. A thud. A twang.

A twang?

He squinted. A figure scrambled up in the dark. His legs were throbbing.

“Sorry!” Yelled a voice in the dark. Definitely not Camilla, then. She would never apologize.

“Watch where you’re going, this isn’t a barn,” his mouth replied without his permission.

“I’m just looking for help! Really, I am!”

There was some fumbling. Another twang. A match was struck in the dark. “I’m looking for Councilman Domitius,” he said. His eyes were bright in the darkness. He was a tweedy sort of man, outweighed entirely by his harp. He was clutching it for dear life. “He’s hired me to escort him through the temple.”

He had one thing going for him, at least. Camilla had taken the lamp.

Balbinus squinted towards him. He recalled, vaguely, mention of this man. Camilla got very territorial about hired help. “Gnaeus? The one that knew all about the legends of Teuthida?”

The man brightened. “You’re also with Domitius?”

“No,” said Balbinus. “I’m actually an assistant of Herminius.” As the man looked disappointed, he held up a hand. “I do know a good deal about Domitius, though. They’re rivals in the council.”

“Oh,” said Gnaeus. “Then, ah, am I- not- not welcome?”

“This is a little beyond council chambers.”

“So…”

“I’m not going to attack you,” said Balbinus. “But please get off my knees. I’m not twenty anymore.”

There was another fumbling and a twang as Gnaeus fell backwards. “I see,” he said. “My apologies!” The lamp flickered. “Well! It seems we have a similar goal.”

“Did you happen to see-” Balbinus paused. Was he really going to ask this… man…. For help?

Well, he didn’t have any other options. “A woman,” he said. “Uptight, but rather pretty. Dark hair? Pen in her pocket? Name is Camilla?”

Gnaeus shook his head. “You’re the first person I’ve seen,” he said. “I actually entered a little early, but when the quake hit…” He shook his head. “Well, I should have run faster, I suppose. But I couldn’t leave my harp behind!”

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Balbinus winced. “I, uh, I can tell.” It was impressive, how tightly the other man was clinging to the harp.

Gnaeus smiled. “You’re a patron of the arts, then?”

“I’m an assistant.” Balbinus finally scrubbed at his eyes, waking up. “Sorry,” he said. “Do you actually know the way out of here?”

“That’s the problem,” said Gnaeus. “I memorized the map, but it’s turned out to be wrong. I’ve ended up going in circles, which isn’t right at all. I’m beginning to think Teuthida’s angry at me!”He sighed. “It’s really quite unfortunate. I was hoping you knew.”

“Why would I know!”

“Well, you’re a professional.”

When it didn’t look like Gnaeus was going to put the light out again, Balbinus sighed. His dreams of turnips would have to wait. He shoved himself up. “Look,” he said. “I lost my companion. The other assistant. I need to go look for her. You can come or not, but-”

“Oh, I’ll come along!” Gnaeus strummed his harp. It was so discordant Balbinus actually flinched away on instinct. “Don’t you worry. I have my ways. I’ll sing to Teuthida, begging her for help.”

Was this why Gnaeus had gotten nowhere?

“We’ve been taking the left fork,” Balbinus said. “Camilla says it’s the ‘most efficient solution.’”

“Is it?”

“We’re still here, aren’t we?”

“Then why do you continue?”

Balbinius didn’t reply.

Instead, he thumped on the wall again, trying to use the light to feel for a false door- for anything. Had Camilla fallen through? Ended up in a spike pit? Last time, they’d needed both of their full heights to get out. What if she’d spent all night trapped?

Gnaeus was strumming on his harp. Constantly. Balbinus gritted his teeth and began walking. Behind him, Gnaeus had started singing a hymn of Teuthida. It managed to be both off-key and off-beat.

It was almost impressive. It was driving him mad.

Balbinius inhaled. He exhaled. He wouldn’t say anything. He was lucky to have company.

Another few steps. He was thumping the wall every moment he could, trying to see where she could have gone. It couldn’t be far. He had only looked away for a second. A second, and she had been gone. They should have stuck closer together. He should have never questioned her. When they met back up, he would let her lead. She deserved to run the place, anyway. She was right. His motions were uninspired-

“Will you stop that!” he snapped, at the third repeat of the Hymn about Teuthida’s Blessed Tentacles. “Have you never tuned a harp before?”

“I’m still learning,” said Gnaeus. He had stopped walking. He looked mournful, holding the lantern up and blinking his eyes pitifully at Balbinus.

Then, in the next moment, he was gone.

For a moment, hazy with panic, Balbinus thought his half-curse had come true. He had actually gotten a favor from Teuthida, and she’d come to smite Gnaeus. Then he leaned forward, feeling the rock in the absence of any light. The stone Gnaeus had been standing on hadn’t looked very different. Not like the iron tiles. But it was a different shape under his fumbling fingers.

It was a carved squid.

Balbinus swallowed. He stepped forward, clumsy in the darkness. He had to be brave.

After a few moments of standing still, the squid gave way. He dropped. He fell, free-falling.

Then, with a clang of harp-strings and a splash, he landed. With a cough, he pushed himself up. Hazy with panic, it took him a moment to shove the water out of his eyes and stumble upwards.

In front of him, a smile on her face, hair immaculate, was Camilla. She held their lamp. Next to her, fumbling his harp out of the water, was Gnaeus. She was ignoring the harpist completely.

“Finally,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for ages!”