Sleep that night had been heavy and fitful, but it was sleep and the next morning saw them all more or less physically rested if not emotionally.

It had been discussed in slow, tired tones the next morning that the route back would steer far, far around the lizardfolk swamps, following the coast up to a human fishing village and then back around to Deraforda and home. This had been met with a chorus of grunts and they'd packed up, Wade setting the bird to moving.

“I've never seen one of these in Deraforda. Do you think they'll let me keep it or will I have to leave it with mom and dad?”

He'd asked.

“Despite it being what it is I doubt it eats like a bird. Could have sworn there were a bunch of fish carcasses around the camp when we got back and if you take it back to the city I'm pretty sure there's going to be a lot of missing dogs and cats.”

Gwen said, looking up at the huge bird.

“Missing kids too.”

“Naaaah.”

Wade cooed. He reached out and ruffled the birds flank feathers.

“She's a good girl, aintcha? You wouldn't eat any fluffy little kitties and doggies, would ya?”

The bird chirped at the attention and jogged a little faster, jostling the occupants of the wagon.

Clarke hadn't said much since he'd woken. Carefully fishing crates and boxes out of his alchemy hole while the shark snapped at him. When queried about why he didn't shoo the shark away (or why it hadn't torn his arm off) he'd replied that,

“There might be some use for a crazed land shark.”

and gone back to shoveling. Now on the road he sat in the corner closed in by the few boxes, quietly flipping a page and taking some notes, then reading again.

“Clarke, you look terrible. Did you sleep at all last night?”

Alouella asked. Clarke didn't look up or stop writing though he did grunt. He frowned, frantically wrote something in a margin then back to the main page, back to the papers in the boxes. Wormwood tried his luck, a smile and warm tone.

“Well, Mr. Script, you finally found something you've been looking for for a decade now. Care to favor us with a sample?”

Clarke furrowed his brow and bent over into the book further.

“How do you like that? We risk our lives and all of a sudden he's too busy for us.”

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Gwen swatted him. It didn't hurt much less without her gauntlets.

“Leave him alone. There's a lot of stuff to go through and he's excited. Right?”

He sighed heavily, rubbing a fist into his eyes to force the exhaustion away. All it did was fill his vision with colorful circles and stars.

“I didn't sleep because I kept hearing something outside the camp. I don't have anything interesting because most of this is just reporting on long dead people though I did find a little bit about my mother. Yes, it's a lot to go through. If you will all just SHUT UP-”

He took a breath and slowly deflated into himself like he'd sprung a leak. The others looked worriedly from one to the other at this change in his demeanor. Sure he was usually stony but not outright hostile. Clarke took another breath.

“I'm sorry, I'm just so...tired. But it says here...”

He picked up a book and squinted at a passage in chicken scratch taken from the beginning of one of the journals.

“...girl named Aggatha Script came into the city recently. Nice girl, adventurer type but no one knows much about her. Seems she's been traveling around the world from what my sources say. She's oddly chummy with wizards and the dwarves specifically which wouldn't be too suspicious all by itself but after years of being in this business I know everybody wants something and the way she's been going around so quickly, purposefully...it's suspicious.”

“And that's all I've come across about her so far. There is a lot to read here and not all of it is about her so...please, can I just be left alone?”

Alouella patted his head and nodded.

“Sure, we understand. Let us know if you need help with the reading.”

“Sure.”

Despite the offer the next several days passed in near silence on his part, hidden behind a growing wall of books and notes. He didn't sleep much and had to be reminded to eat but his irritation lessened over the days as he was left to be.

Deraforda, home and comfort and actual beds, came into sight nestled in the split of a pure, clean river into two slightly less clean rivers. Mid day sun sparkled on the waters, cast shadows from building to street across the manic busy life of the city.

Wade let Wormwood off to 'report in' and begged a good review to which he received a noise slightly more committal than non.

Gwen stopped at her coffee shop, the heavy locks still in place.

“You have a place to stay?”

She'd asked Alouella. A light seemed to go off for her and she shook her head.

“Then get in here. I know I have more room than Clarke and Wade lives in a single bed in the guard barracks.”

Alouella bowed slightly.

“You're too kind. Pardon my intrusion then.”

They waved the boys off and Wade pulled around to where Clarke lived, the little hole in the wall.

“You need any help?”

Wade asked. Clarke hadn't even noticed the stop, still writing away. He circled around the wagon and was shocked to see the usual beautiful handwriting reduced to barely recognizable scribbling.

“Clarke!”

He yelled and he startled, rubbing his face and eyes.

“You're home. Get some rest, man. You look like death.”

Clarke got down, foot slipping off the wagon as Wade helped him carry his boxes in. The boxes safely stashed, Clarke sat at his table and flipped it right back to where he'd left off. Wade slammed it shut and Clarke glared at him.

“I am positive Gwen and Alouella would do the same. Get in bed or I'll send them over here.”

Clarke sighed and shuffled over to his bed.

“Yeah...yeah, you're right. So close...they keep telling me I'm close...”

He muttered and fell face first into his bed.

Wade was halfway out the door when he stopped, poked his head back in.

“So...I'm sorry about everything I did.”

Clarke shifted, pushed himself up just enough so he wasn't talking into his sheets.

“It was crazy magic non-sense but...thanks. Now go home to your dirty elf picture books.”

Wade turned red, slamming the door as he left.

“Call us when you find out if...where your mom is.”

He yelled. Clarke fell into fitful sleep.