The plan was sound: when the gate spit them out, Eolh, Poire, and Laykis would tail the delegates through the city. Once they found out where the delegates were being led, the three of them would find a place nearby to lodge. There, they would establish a listening post, and figure out their next steps.

But the plan was based on one assumption. Eolh had assumed that the Cyre-side gate would be just like the one on Gaiam.

It was not.

Gaiam’s gate was a slow-moving stream compared to this side’s torrent of sights and sounds and smells and frenzied activity.

Eolh had overheard the imperials talking about the Cauldron, calling it a small city, a backwater compared to Cyre. Now he could see why.

Everything here was enormous. Great, white buildings rose like hills all around the basin of the gate, marching into the sky all around them. Gold and bronze and marble statues glinted in the brilliant sunlight all upon the highest reaches of the basin. The gate was sunken in the center of the basin, and two avenues - both at least as wide as the Vium Cynuam converged in a mile-wide circle that funneled gently down toward the gate.

That circle was overgrown with a maze of semi-permanent stalls and ever-shifting corridors as people put up tents, pulled them down, rolled their carts, and gathered in throngs or hawked and called their wares and services to the gate’s newcomers. And these merchants had no regard for the roads, either. They dragged their carts, their benches and pack beasts into the Via, blocking any straight passage away from the gate. Though Eolh could see strips of the stone roads peaking through the crowds, all the way up the sloping sides of the basin, none of them seemed to lead out of the labyrinthine bazaar.

Dozens of other avians and Gaiamic people were clustered together on the flat metal plane of the gate, waiting its cold grip to release their feet. The diplomats, standing just a few feet away, should have been within hearing distance, but Eolh couldn’t hear them over the rattling drums and shrilling reeds from the encircling bazaar, nor the roar of merchants and criers and traders.

He felt the need to move. Like the whole bazaar was watching them, and if the gate didn’t release his feet soon…

Poire’s hand touched his. He could feel the fledge’s grip on his metal fingers. Poire’s body was covered in a set of Redenite traveling gear that hid his most damning features - A mask, a thin set of well-fit crafter’s robes with a shallow hood and long sleeves, and a pair of leather gloves that covered his skin - but Eolh could still feel the tension emanating from the human.

Maybe it was just the foreign feeling of being on an alien planet. Eolh could feel it too, feel the difference under his feathers. It made him feel like he was someone else. A new version of himself. The air was crisp, but not fresh. It tasted like salt and the tang of sun-bleached sand. Even the sun felt different on his face, warming his feathers with a heat that felt… not wrong… just different, somehow.

The fledge’s was leaning heavily on him, as if he was about to lose his balance. Eolh had to lean down and speak directly into Poire’s hood to be heard over the din. “You alright?”

The fledge only nodded, and tightened his grip more.

Behind them, Laykis was carrying her two wooden trunks, one in each hand. Where Eolh and Poire brought a single satchel each, Laykis had brought every tool a tinker could need. She had artificially weathered her new armor, to better blend in with the other droids. Eolh had been afraid she would stand out, but now that they were here… he doubted if anyone could stand out in all this noise.

Finally, the cold metal gate began to release their feet, and Eolh made to move off the gate. Laykis stopped him with a word.

“Soldiers.” She nodded at the imperial troops fanning out around the gate’s edge. Eolh could feel his feathers rising.

There were at least a hundred of them. He hadn’t seen them coming through all the crowds. But now, with their polished helmets gleaming in the afternoon sunlight, they were unmistakable.

Eolh cursed. His legs tensed, and his arms too. Ready to take flight.

“Laykis, take him. I’ll be right behind you-”

“No,” Laykis said. “Eolh, they’re just an escort. They’re here for the diplomats.”

Eolh refocused his gaze, still holding his breath.

But the an-droid was right. The soldiers were only directing the flow of traffic off the gate. Dozens of avians and redenites and other Gaiam natives stepped aside to let the cluster of feathered diplomats walk with the soldiers.

The soldiers formed a neat box around the diplomats, and the throngs and carts cleared out of their way as they crawled slowly up one of the Via. Eolh watched anxiously as they moved farther and farther away, watched the crowds close behind them.

Eolh turned around and saw Laykis, crouching next to the fledge. Holding onto his shoulder as his slender, robed form began to tilt drunkenly - this way, then that.

“What are you doing?” Eolh said. “Come on. We need to follow them.”

Laykis looked like she was about to say something, when a whistle blew, piercing through the noise. An imperial officer waved, and the last of the soldiers melted back into the crowds. The gate erupted in a flurry of movement. Hundreds of aliens swarmed the gate, shoving their goods in front of Gaiam’s latest emigrants, shouting, selling, trading, and swindling.

From two legs, to two hundred, to none at all. Skin and scale, mucusy or fur-covered, spines and quills and bone and a humanoid that looked like it was made of a thousand delicate flowers, pink as roses. Some looked like they could be walking weapons, and others looked like they might bruise at the slightest touch. Dozens of species Eolh had never seen before, let alone imagined, were collapsing onto the gate, as the Gaiamic natives tried to move out.

“We need-” the an-droid’s voice clicked, artificially amplified over the chaos, “We need to get him out of here!”

Eolh took one last look at the retreating diplomats, that square formation of imperials disappearing beyond sight. He cursed again. They would have to find their own way then.

And then, he looked down at Poire, who was trying to take off his mask. Eolh stopped him by grabbing Poire’s arm, and pulled him through the crush. The an-droid brought up the rear, swinging her trunks just wildly enough to make the nearby xenos think twice about approaching her. Still, they had to fight. It was almost as if the locals didn’t want them to leave the gate.

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The closer to the rim of the gate they came, the more insistent the locals were, shouting at them, shoving foods and trinkets and textiles at them, or reaching back with empty hands, demanding trade. One huge bestial humanoid with four arms and too many chins cornered them, grunting and snuffling. Even the nearest aliens gave him a wide birth, though Eolh suspected it was because of the foul stench wafting off the slabs of his flesh.

“No, thank you,” Eolh said, turning away. But the bestial merchant put an enormous hand on Eolh’s shoulder, and turned him roughly. He pulled open the folds of his shirt, which was almost as large as a tent itself, revealing cascades of glittering metal. The beast was trying to sell droid parts and polished fragments of machinery. The beast grunted again, shaking his open shirt so that the metal clinked and rattled aggressively. His fang-like teeth were bared, his oily-black eyes were trained on Laykis. Reaching for her.

Out of nowhere, a thin metal cane cracked against the beast’s grasping arm. Eolh thought he saw electricity crackle along the length of the cane, right before the beast yanked its arm back.

“Kirgal!” A rich, musical voice shouted, “Can’t you see my friend here is busy? He doesn’t want your cheap exroki, you fat oaf!”

The cane-wielder was avian. At least, she had the beak of an avian, but it was hard to tell through all the silks and leathers and jangling jewelry draped off her person. The long, black spikes of an exotic ruff stuck out along her shoulders, presumably to make her look taller than she was, and dozens of golden rings were pierced along the bridge of her fiery beak.

“I’ve been looking all over for you!” The avian said, her huge beak clapping as she shouted. “We’ve been asking all day. Annoch, when is he coming? Annoch, when will I get to see him again? And here you are, finally!”

The avian winked at Eolh. At least Eolh thought it was a wink. Hard to tell, when the avian’s left eye was covered by an eye patch made of metal. The metal plate was bolted into the bone around her eye.

“Come on,” she said, stepping between Eolh and the huge, four-armed merchant. “We’re all ready to go.”

When Eolh didn’t move, she swept the tricorne hat off her head, and gestured for Eolh to follow her.

Here she was, a helpful stranger who just so happened to pass by as they were being strong-armed by this massive merchant made of meat and muscle.

Smells like a trap.

But the crowds were throbbing and flowing around them, and the four-armed merchant was grunting and breathing heavily at Eolh, looking noticeably more angry, and Laykis’s voice was clicking into Eolh’s ear, “Eolh, it’s happening again. He’s losing it.”

The fledge’s fingers, still wrapped around Eolh’s hand, were trembling. Squeezing and letting go. Groaning, though the sound was muffled by the thick mask.

Another vision?

Eolh made up his mind.

“Yes,” Eolh said, trying to play along with the avian’s farce. “It’s good to finally see you. Again. Let’s go somewhere quieter to discuss our business. Make it fast, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

Eolh flashed two coins at the gaudy avian. She beamed back at him, opening her wings wide, revealing huge red feathers and arms that dripped with bangles and bracelets.

“Ah, my old friend. You always did speak my favorite language.”

***

As they weaved through the crowds and stalls and tents, Poire struggled to stay on his feet. Once or twice, Eolh had to catch him to keep him from falling, but Annoch pretended not to notice.

Annoch the merchant was aracari, one of Gaiam’s more colorful avian species. But by the way she wound expertly through the maze of the bazaar, using her cane to speed up her gait, Eolh thought she’d been on Cyre for a long while. She led them ever up the slope of the basin, where the crowds grew thinner and thinner, though the tents yet blocked the way.

“Mine is just over here,” Annoch nodded at a wall of tents, reds and blues and greys, emblazoned with faded designs of all kinds. Eolh could not tell which one she was gesturing at.

“Can we not go somewhere quieter?” he asked her.

But it was Laykis who answered, “This is fine for now. He needs rest.”

Annoch shrugged, and led them to a small, black tent with all of its sides rolled down for privacy. She held the flap open, and Laykis went in first. Poire stumbled in after her, holding his hands up to his hooded head, almost tripping over his own feet.

Eolh was about to follow them when a rough hand caught him.

“Your friend, looks a bit worse for the wear, don’t you think?”

“He’ll be alright. He just needs some air,” Eolh looked at the tent. “Or … less air. You know how Redenites are.”

“Yes,” Annoch nodded, still not letting go of his arm. “I do know how Redenites are.”

Away from all the chaos, he finally got a better look at her eye. New tech. The sphere of the eye was hard-etched steel, but the inner iris and pupil looked to be something else. A compound, maybe. Her golden pupil twisted and collapsed slightly as she inspected Eolh’s face.

Too curious. She was far too curious.

Eolh coughed, and said “Thank you for the help. Give me a moment with my apprentice, and then we’ll be on our way.”

Eolh pulled out a small pouch, and started to loosen the drawstring, but Annoch shook her head.

“Do not try to pay me. I know what you are.”

Eolh’s snapped his head up. Had they been so obvious? Not even an hour on Cyre, and already someone had noticed them. Noticed Poire.

Gods damn it. He swallowed hard. I knew I shouldn’t have let him come here.

“You stick out more than you think. Anyone can see the truth,” Annoch said. “Well, anyone with an eye as sharp as mine.”

“I see,” he said, trying not to give away anything.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Eolh dropped his hand to his hip. His fingers twitching around the raven knife. A loose-beaked witness could cost them everything.

The spikes on Annoch’s shoulders stirred, and something lifted its head off her shoulder. Only then did Eolh realize it wasn’t some article of clothing. It was a reptile perched on her shoulders, it’s long black tail going down to her chest. She reached up with one hand, absently stroking the lizard’s head, making a low clicking sound in her beak, soothing the pet lizard. It’s eyes blinked lazily, and its head returned to her shoulder.

“You wear a good disguise, my friend. And your little Redenite friend, or whatever he is. The droid is a nice touch, too. Some very fine craftship in that, I reckon. But you want to know what your problem is?”

She tapped her cane meaningfully on the ground between them.

“You’re trying too hard.”

Eolh blinked.

“Oh, I’ll wager your ‘apprentice’ is quite the tinker. But you? You can’t stop looking over your shoulder, like every little shadow is out to get you. I knew exactly who you were the moment I saw you.”

“And who,” Eolh said slowly, “Would that be, then?”

Annoch threw her beak up, and loosed a croaking peel of laughter. Her jewels jangled and the lizard lifted its head to look at her, almost annoyed.

“Please, don’t take me for a fool. Now, the Queen wins an impossible war. The Emperor is only just waking up. Who are you he asks.”

She leaned in, and whispered conspiratorially. “You’re spies, aren’t you? The Queen’s own. Now, the scale skins are expecting it, they’re on the lookout for agents among the diplomats. But you’re clever. You’ve gone and hid with the common folk, haven’t you?”

She winked again, and this time Eolh was certain it was a wink.

She was half right. But clueless about Poire. Eolh let his hand drop from his hip, and crowed a sigh.

“How much do you want?”

“Oh, no, no!” Annoch put a hand on her chest, her eyes wide and innocent, “I don’t do blackmail. Not anymore, at least. When it comes to your situation, my beak is tied.” She mimicked tying a string around her beak, knotting it with a twist of her hands.

Then, she kept talking anyway.

“I only want to help, because I can tell you’re out of your depth. Cyre is a big place, lots to see, lots to do. Lots to stay away from, if you catch my wind. And I, Annoch Polcatus, master of merchants, could be your guide in this vast city, if you’ll have me.”

Eolh narrowed his eyes at the avian. “Why?” The question came out like a stone cracking off a dry cliff.

“Why? He asks ‘why?’ Look at me, friend. I’m just as feathered as you are. See, when I first laid my eye on you, do you know what I saw? I saw a chance to serve my Queen, the humblest ruler of all us flight-loving folk. It would be my greatest honor to serve you, and thus, serve her,” she swept the hat off her head, clutching it to her chest, and dove into a dramatic bow.

Somehow, Eolh didn’t believe a word she said. Most likely, this was a game to the “master of merchants.” She had only rejected his gold because Annoch could smell an opportunity far larger than a pouch of coins.

Fortunately, money was a language Eolh spoke very well.

So, he tucked the pouch back into the folds of his leathers. And stuck out his metal hand. “Alright, merchant. We can deal.”