Glauster and Gork had made it back to the cabin by the time he arrived. Both of them looked exhausted as they stood in the now knee-deep water. Seeing as the flood had already gotten to the point where the table at the center of the room was submerged, there wasn’t a single place left where one could sit down and stay dry. All parties present, Romulo and Midday included, had the miserable conditions of their cabin plastered across their faces.
“Quite the story, Midday.” Glauster greeted Midday with a sarcastic smile in which he did an odd squinting thing with his eyes. “The craziest part is that I actually believe it.”
“So you heard?” Midday glanced down at his feet to see how the Raincoat Ring was responding to the total submersion of his lower legs. Not well, it turned out: all the ring could do in such intense conditions was make the water around his calves and shins ripple a little.
“Damn right I did. Romulo isn’t the type to withhold that kind of information.”
“And Gork knows too, I take it?”
“Unfortunately so,” answered Gork. The light was very dim within the cabin, with the fog blotting out most of what little sunlight remained of the day, but Midday could nonetheless make out the distinct red color of blood on Gork’s hands. More likely than not, he had just gotten back from performing surgery. “And I should add that you have nothing to worry about… Glauster has already made me promise not to share this information with anyone.”
“Got it.” Midday sighed. “And, just out of curiosity, have you guys made any plans for surviving the coming month?”
“I’m going to escape the island,” answered Glauster, without a trace of sarcasm.
“That’s… quite the statement.” Midday shook his head, not quite taking the oh-so-bold statement seriously. Nobody escaped the plantation. He had seen enough executions to know that much. Even if one somehow got past the walls, the lake surrounding the island was enormous to the point where it was more than a hundred miles to the mainland. Additionally, its waters were riddled with hundred-foot-high waves and terrifying leviathans. In short, it was impossible to leave without using the subterranean rail system that had carried him and the others to the plantation just over two months before. “How?”
Glauster pointed downwards. “The railroad, of course. It goes without saying that the watchmen who normally keep surveillance over us are unable to see through this fog. That opens up plenty of possibilities. Given how big the rail network most likely is, it might be feasible to make a slow escape by sneaking through the tunnels.”
“That seems idiotic to me, but I guess I’ll be wishing you the best of luck with that.” He turned to Gork. “And how about you?”
“I’m staying here,” answered Gork. “I don’t know what they’re playing at with this, but it sounds like a lot of people will be getting hurt because of it. Doctors will be needed, I think.”
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“Thought as much.” Midday sighed. “Well, good luck to everyone.” He then proceeded to reach up toward the ceiling. “And how about you, Mister Potatoes? Care to join me in the forest?”
Mister Potatoes, being a bug and whatnot, was probably incapable of understanding any of what Midday had just said. Even so, the beetle crawled along the ceiling until it was directly above Midday, at which point the beetle dropped down into the hands of the human beneath.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Midday placed Mister Potatoes on his shoulder, where the beetle seemed content to reside for the time being. “You’re a good beetle, Mister Potatoes.”
Mister Potatoes responded with what Midday interpreted as an affectionate lick to his neck, the beetle’s black, jelly-infected tongue traveling about six inches out of the creature’s mouth—sort of like a frog—to accomplish said feat. Looks like he’s already learned a few tricks. Not bad.
It was obvious that a creature as small as Mister Potatoes would probably not be very useful in a place like the old growth. Still, Midday found the presence of his companion reassuring, especially now that they had a weird sort of kinship in that they both possessed jelly-infected tongues. He found himself viewing Mister Potatoes as something more akin to a partner than a pet.
“I guess we ought to have something to eat,” said Glauster, not commenting on the impossibly long tongue that should have been anatomically impossible for a creature like Mister Potatoes to possess. “Too bad the fireplace is underwater now. We’ll have to get by on raw oats for now. They should be edible enough, I think.”
“I think I’ll skip dinner tonight,” said Midday. “You guys can keep the food for yourselves.” He had just come back from stuffing his mouth with blackberries for fifteen minutes until his stomach felt like it might burst. Eating was the last thing on his mind at that moment.
“Trying to get out of eating your peppercorn?” Gork managed a weak grin. “The stone with your contract written on it might be underwater now, but that doesn’t invalidate the agreement, does it?”
“I suppose not. I guess I’ll have some oats then.” Midday responded nonchalantly. Seeing as he had already ‘conquered’ Devil Peppercorn, he saw no reason to dread it anymore.
The four roommates spent the next few minutes divvying out handfuls of dry oats and eating them wordlessly. Gork was more than a little surprised upon seeing Midday unhesitatingly stuff his mouth with Devil Peppercorn-infested food and even more shocked when Midday seemed indifferent to the horrible aftertaste, but he said nothing of this—presumably not wanting to know what sort of hell his roommate had gone through to overcome the drawbacks of the godforsaken seasoning in such a short period.
After supper, they agreed that an early bedtime would be wise. Each cabinmate had all sorts of preparations to make before Siempre Elvanera’s announcement and, with how dense the fog was, there was essentially no visibility now that the sun had fallen low along the horizon. It was best, they decided, to rest as much as possible until the sun rose, at which time they would all get up and scramble to do what needed to be done.
In order to rest without risking hypothermia from the water, Midday, Glauster, and Gork tied some logs to the bottoms of their beds to improve their buoyancy, thus allowing the beds to float like miniature rafts atop the ever-rising waterline while they slept. Romulo, on the other hand, went outside and climbed up a tree, where he slept under the limited shelter of its leaves. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, and the four knew that they needed to get their rest now while they still had the chance.