Merryn finished her food, and the bowl puffed away, as did the barbecue skewers. "Where'd it go?"

"To the reuse pile, of course. Didn't Parcival explain anything to you?" Opial rubbed her temple. "We need to hurry."

Opial completely avoided the question. I must have asked too much.

They passed under a large archway into a quiet street; the district plain and without fanfare. A soft breeze blew, and the clouds changed their cover, as a gentle rain fell, it cooled the hot midday sun. As the leaves on the trees fell, they yielded their fragile forms on the earth to the coming onslaught of the winter.

Opial weaved in out out between the alleys, streets and around buildings, she spotted pails of water on the roofs. Come to think of it, they'd always had the pails, what with the threat of fire being so high. There wasn't any point anymore in trying to figure out which way was which anymore. She passed the docks, turned a few more times and stopped before a large wooden building. "I left them there, still tied up. The Captain isn't going to be pleased with me." She played with her hair and looked away. "Maybe you could..."

Light snoring started came from the building. Where were the guards? Merryn went over and opened the sliding door slowly, being careful not to make a sound. Unable to whistle, she instead tried to imitate a bird. She hesitated for a second. It'll work, better than a whistle. I think. "Chew! Chew! Tweet! Twitter!"Chirpy, cheep!" That wasn't half bad.

Opial spoke in her ear: "Are you having a spastic fit or something?" Her forehead creased, and she leaned in, her brow arched high.

"Yeek!" Merryn jumped forward and almost fell through the entrance. Maybe it was stupid. A warmth raced over her face.

Opial caught her arm and pulled her back. She bowed her head some. "Sorry."

Merryn stepped into the dark building; the only light came through the entrance.

She arched around the door and peered in. Parcival, Han and Beeka all slept; their hands and legs were free. Unbelievable. Did they even try to get out of here?

Parcival snorted and muttered something.

In the connected room before the cell, a rolled up mat leaned against the wall and a cup on the low table. But no guard.

"What is going on here?" Merryn went all the way in and shook Parcival's foot.

He rolled over and muttered again.

Opial nudged Han with her foot.

He wrapped his tail over his eyes but still slept.

Merryn pushed on his chest and rolled him back and forth. "Han!"

He swatted her away and still slept.

"We shouldn't touch them when they're sleeping like this it wouldn't be right, don't want to startle them too much."

She quickly made the circular hand sign of Elaema. "They're bewitched, or ill." She knelt down and searched the room. Except for the three of them; nothing. "Do you know who did this? I have my suspicions, but..." More like facts; who else but him would do this?

"I think Maxwell did it, before hiding, he spat out a quick bunch of gibberish. I didn't think anything of it at the time."

Sitting up and straightening her back, she stood facing Opial. "Any ideas?"

Opial shrugged. "Set them on fire? Kiss them? Slap their faces?"

"Don't you think those are a little extreme?" Merryn made an exaggerated frown.

"I guess. You know, if Beeka were awake, he could just tap their heads with his staff and nullify the spell."

She smiled. "Perfect, let's do that!"

Opial pried the staff free of Beeka's hand; its rings clinked together as she tapped their heads with it.

They waited.

It really wasn't okay, Maxwell leaving them helpless like this. Have to pay him back in spades.

Nothing.

Merryn shrugged. "Well, maybe water?"

"What kind of water? Hot? Warm?" Opial adjusted her robe.

Did Parcival's eyes open there? She stared for a moment longer. No, guess not.

"Warm would be kinder, right?" Merryn rubbed her arms repeatedly.

Opial bobbed her head up and down. "Yes, they'd might like it that way, but not hot."

Merryn searched the room. "Any water and containers around? Splashing them shouldn't be too upsetting." I wish they'd wake up already.

"Or squirting them, we could use a pouch or something." Opial squeezed her fingers.

Beeka seemed to crack an eye open and then closed it. Faking?

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Merryn nodded and rotated the bracelet. "Higher pressure. That could work, enough pressure could break the spell."

They tried it.

The men woke up with oddly blissful looks about them and a sly twinkle in their eyes.

#####

Twenty minutes later, Parcival led them back to his parents' home. He tapped three of the runes on the sliding door and waited.

It opened, and a half grown boy—or maybe a short warrior of some sort—opened the door, his face hidden from view. "No visitors. Come back later." As he started to close the door, Parcival flashed his emblem. "You're new here, right? Please forgive me for bothering you. Would you tell Father or Mother I'm here? They'll know why."

"Yes, a moment, please." The male bowed quickly, though hidden, then closed the door, his steps fading away.

From inside the home, a relaxing musical thrumming drone started.

Parcival closed his eyes and swayed.

After standing for a while, Merryn sat in the soft, thick grass about twenty or so feet from the doorway. She scooted back a little more. I can't take another surprise so soon or my brain will turn to mush.

The rich, soothing music unfrayed her nerves and she switched to sitting cross-legged. This isn't a bad way to wait, not at all.

Han acted like the ground was of special importance and bounced a pebble between both feet. He tilted his head often at the door before going back to the pebble.

Beeka and Opial stood and chatted, and Parcival still swaying by the doorway. It must be a cultural thing, or maybe a Parcival thing. Someone would make a lot of opials if they made a guide for visitors about how to act here.

It's way warmer today instead of being so chilly. She went to the edge of the shade and leaned into the sun, and turned her face from side to side. Ah, that's nice.

The unknown musician hit a sweet low batch of notes: dowww-ding-doww-ding-bowwzz.

After opening an eye, she darted quick glances to everyone. it's really peaceful here and I could easily fall asleep. Max sure gave up easily though, which is very unlike him. I'm just glad to have things quiet, if only for a moment.

Parcival smoothed back his hair and stretched out his back; it cricked.

Han stopped playing with the pebble, pitter-pattered over and sat a couple of spaces near her, his shoulders tensed up slightly.

A stream of Han's sweet tobacco followed an air current, and tickled her nose. She rubbed it. Why are they making us wait? She rested her head on a hand and sighed.

Han scooched closer. "Should we just, you know, keep going because, something is going to happen again." His whiskers quavered.

She blinked. Maybe he just worded that wrong. "I'm sure Parcival has a good reason for bringing us here. It's probably better to wait."

"I don't think this is something that should be put off any longer."

"If you need to go do something, then go do it."

"It's not up to me. You have to decide this."

"I can't read your mind, tell me."

He took a puff from the pipe and blew a small ring of smoke. "That god is, um, still there, right? If Beeka did that ritual or spell then maybie..." He mumbled 'feel better.'

"Ah. I don't have much hope in it working anymore."

"What if it does?"

"Not so sure anymore." Unnamed is kind of like that grouchy and sarcastic uncle but underneath he isn't that bad at all. Except with that mistress junk, no flippin' way.

A breeze blew away the last of the smoke and fanned it away.

"It will. I have a good feeling about it." He relaxed some, then smiled a little. His ears perked up, swiveling behind him.

The door slid open and Parcival's mother came out. I need to find out her name.

They exchanged bows.

"Raimo will see you now. Please come in." She smiled at Parcival and led the way inside. Parcival took off his shoes, as did everyone else.

Maybie Parcival, if he feels like it, can teach the names of things here. The sliding divided into rectangular sections, and inside the paper sheets filtered the light. Ah, maybe it was this way to honor Elaema by letting in as much as possible into their homes! Now that I think about it while there aren't many statues to Elaema here, the homes, buildings and art all have a sun, book, brush or sparrow on them, usually discreetly worked in to look natural. She studied the sliding door fame. There, at the top of the frame, is a lightly carved sun with rays around it.

Inside the large room, firm yet soft light green straw mats laid across it, just like in the restaurant; these had an even nicer fresh scent like that of of cut grass and herbs.

Parcival's mother took them through the entrance hall, and opened the way to a back room. Raimo sat by a very low, short-legged table, holding an instrument in his hands balanced balancing it on his lap. The top part, the head bent backward, four strings down the length of it. He plucked at the strings on it and the soothing notes almost seemed to wrap around the room.

When he moved his hand down, this revealed two separate crescent-shaped holes carved into the wood. A lute! The ones back home were much longer, with a large hole in the center.

The short man sat before him, he was somewhat handsome with nice features and kind, deep eyes. "Very good, you're getting it."

Raimo, placed the lute to the side and motioned for them to sit.

Her stomach twisted into a tight knot. So much for the peace. Tried to not to think about it, but what was he going to do? Will they toss me in prison, or execute? She couldn't suppress the shaking in her hands, and sat on them after sitting on a cushion.

Parcival sat across from his father, and the others sat around the table with her.

Parcival spoke In a hushed tone, "Watch what you say, and remember to bow."

His mother went out, then came back in holding a small, dark mirror. She handed it to Raimo, and it brightened and flickered when he touched it.

He tapped it. "Come on, work. Contacting Elder Ayeka-san. Come in." Raimo bowed to her image. The mirror flickered and cleared a vivid picture of a serious middle-aged woman with her silver streaked hair in an ornate bun with two long black and gold polished hair sticks in her hair, her expression neutral, nothing—not even her eyes—giving away her state of mind.

"You have much to answer for, all of you. Especially the outsider. We'll be there in twenty minutes. Be ready." The mirror turned dark again.

Everyone's gaze turned her way. She couldn't meet them and looked at her boots. I should have tried harder; how many people were hurt, how many? If they hadn't been here, the Calcines never would have come. They didn't do anything wrong, I'll take the blame, at least they won't go down with me.

Opial came over. "It's not all your fault. We'll talk to them."

"If I hadn't come here—" the rest of the sentence turned into a squeek. She breathed in deeply, holding everything away. Don't break. Hold it together. She trembled and brought her knees together, holding them with her arms.