“Absolutely not.”

Ike led Nerinai back to the foyer of the building. The two of them stood in front of a double set of doors right of the main entrance, set in with imprints of an open book over the header. He barely managed to get through explaining his idea before she declared her opposition.

“Huh?” Ike turned from the door to her. “What do you mean? You don’t even know what I'm talking about.”

“Yes I do. The answer is simply no.”

“Well, you don’t even want to try?”

“Trying to communicate with the Drearbridge associates is quite literally at the bottom of a very long list of things I would ever want to do. Coming to their door and begging for help? Much farther below that.”

Ike sighed, crossing his arms and thinking of what other options they had. The Arcani were a no go and he could barely conceive meeting them again let alone asking for their help. The Marcusi, Lord Deon and his band of oddities, were probably not the ideal group for tackling a magical bone man.

“We should just go to the crows, then,” he suggested.

For a moment, she considered. Pinched her chin between a thumb and forefinger while staring down the doorway to the library. “That could work,” she said “but honestly Guardian, I doubt more magic is going to fix anything here.”

“So then we talk to the scholars.”

“No!”

The doors swung open with a gentle creak, revealing the curious face of Marcus peering through the crack and his bodyguard not far behind. They regarded the Raveness with suspicion, looking between the two of them as if it were the middle of the night and their arguing disturbed some precious sleep.

Marcus looked Ike up and down again, then said in his flattest voice, “Lovers spat?”

Guardian and Raveness spoke at once.

“Watch your mouth,” Nerinai said.

“We need help!” said Ike, exasperated by now.

The man let out a gaudy sigh and let the door open all the way. Past him, the library was dark and Isibeil was looming just behind her charge with both hands placed very intentionally beside two lumps in her robe. Marcus stepped out of the doorway and leaned against the frame. He turned his attention solely to Nerinai.

“So, finally, the righteous black savior of the unworthy dirt beneath us comes to ask a favor of the lowly study boy. That's it?” A hint of something old and familiar laced his words.

Nerinai held herself straight. “There are certain issues in this world I’m not unwilling to ignore my own pride for, unlike some. The Guardian and I have a particular issue, and had I any other opportunity I’d have taken it, believe me.”

“Oh, I do.”

Ike’s mouth hung open slightly, an unformed word hanging on his tongue. Since when was this Nerinai’s idea? He was too busy feeling slighted by them knowing each other to even feel boyish pride about being recognized in front of another group.

“Well then,” said Marcus, “Suppose I believe your comment about pride. You don’t need to explain what’s wrong for me to put the pieces together; there is something in this building that has you stumped. And it’s nothing incredibly obvious either, otherwise I’d have found it already.” Ike caught Nerinai’s slight smirk at that. “I propose a deal: let us study the artifact and the surrounding architecture and I offer any help the University has to offer.”

Ike stepped in then. “What makes you think it’s an artifact? Or, even something you can study.”

“Ah, Guardian.” Marcus frowned at him. “Have you… thought about what we discussed?”

The Guardian shifted uncomfortably. Now it was Nerinai’s turn to look between the two, and she was much better at showing off her suspicion then Ike ever was. The last time Marcus and Ike talked was when he let them flip through the pages of the book, and as far as they knew Ike was still slated to have himself bled out as a negligent sacrifice. They didn’t know Nerinai’s actual mission, or at least, that she was taking every detour to avoid that nasty bit of business.

“Yeah. Everythings settled, exactly as it should be, so, can we get a move on?”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Of course! Isibeil, collect my things, would you?”

The group met down in the basement temple where nothing had moved since before. Some blood from their fight before flecked the stone, but otherwise the room was silent and sterile as could be. The skeletal demon in his pond made no sign of recognition at the shaman and scholar standing at the edge.

“There’s a ritual here, unlike anything in modern use.” Nerinai said.

Marcus knelt down by the water, occasionally skimming his finger over the surface to look for a reaction. “Obviously. I thought rituals were your field though, why ask for us?”

“You’re the historian. This is history.”

History. Rituals. Nerinai and Marcus, the person Ike was just starting to know and the utter stranger who both seemed more comfortable around each other then he’d been with anyone else. Ike decided that sitting by them and trying to help would just kill his confidence more than they already have; he already felt like a pig squirming in the mud with stab wounds in his rib.

The most comfortable spot in the room turned out to be the foot of a statue. He leaned up against the legs of some long forgotten matron of- he craned his neck back to stare up- bowls. A world that celebrated the handing out of bowls. No wonder the old world fell.

Ike took his time to rest. The next time any would be asking about him, he’d probably be charging the skeleton again.

“You still have that knife?”

Ike blinked his eyes open. He looked to his side and nearly jumped into hitting his head on the stone bowl above him at the sight of Isibeil. She crouched right next to him without a sound. Damn, Ike thought, if only she had been his mentor in the monastery.

Then it hit him what she asked about. He’d forgotten about the thing almost entirely, but when he felt at his side there it was. Safely tucked away in the belt of his trousers.

“Sure do. You, ah, need it back?”

“No.”

Ike nodded. He wasn’t really sure what to say then, but he wasn’t nodding off again. Not with her in a fifty foot vicinity, not that it even mattered. He settled for pushing himself back against the statue with some discomfort and watching the two smart people in the room working.

Between the two of them, they assembled a little wealth of sketch paper. Even from the other side of the room Ike could make out them sketching out parts of the room, and occasionally walking up to the statues for some measurement or other.

“You look upset,” muttered Isibeil.

Ike just shrugged. “A little. I mean, no. Tired, maybe.”

“Do I need to shove your face in a mirror?”

“I think if you did that I’d be a little upset. Probably a different kind of upset.”

Ike started flipping the knife in his fingers. It was a simple tool, solid white metal with just a curve to separate the handle and the blade. Kind of like Isibeil. Simple, straightforward, and sharp as hell. All things he wished he could be for Nerinai. He thought about asking how she did it, but decided not to. No good to sound so utterly pathetic in front of an ally.

“What do you think they’re planning?” he asked, unsettled by her silent presence.

“Runes.” She even spoke with a confidence Ike could barely fake, let alone carry through a conversation. “I was listening to them for a while before I came here. Your Raveness thinks the demon is bound by runes in the water, and now they’re trying to figure out how to break them loose.”

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

Ike risked a glance over at her and realized she was staring at him. Same cutting glance as the other day. “Are you… jealous?”

Ike immediately blushed. “What? I- no. Jealous about what? That’s ridiculous.” He stood up and started stretching out his legs by pacing around, grip tightening on the knife as he passed it from hand to hand. “Do I look jealous?”

“They met at Drearbridge three years ago,” Isibeil said, letting out a little sigh of either annoyance or exhaustion. “Part of an information exchange with the Carrion Cross, Marcus worked as her study partner and officially appointed guide during the exchange. Trust me when I say their relationship was purely academic. Though ‘academic relationship’ to certain members of the brotherhood entail a certain filthiness that has no place in any study room or lecture hall.”

Ike froze, glancing between Nerinai and Marcus. Was he actually jealous? The two of them stood close to each other but once he let himself look past that there was definitely a tension there he hadn’t paid attention to before. No wonder Nerinai didn’t want their help.

“So, friends?”

“In a way. They hate each other.”

The two of them started making their way over to Ike and Isibeil, visibly arguing in muffled tones over patterns in the floor.

“Alright,” began Marcus, letting out a deep exhale as the group reconvened in the center of the room. “We think we have a plan.”

Ike looked to Nerinai who nodded at him and Isibeil. “You two keep the statues attention long enough for me and Marcus to break the ritual. All you have to do is not die, corral the beast around its ring. Could you manage that much?”

Ike realized a little too late that snark wasn’t meant entirely for him. He looked over at Isibeil who already had her weapons in her hands, staring ahead instead of focusing on anyone in the group. Frankly, he couldn’t imagine having a better partner to fight with.

“Sure,” he said.

“Then let’s not waste any more time. Marcus,” Nerinai waved for her assistant to follow and he did, dragging each step as if he wished it were the last. All he wanted to do was walk around studying statues all day. Ike nearly laughed at that, had he not been walking again towards the physical embodiment of getting his ass whooped all over again.

All four of them stepped into the water at once. Ike braced for the shattering tune of the demon's harmonica, but just before it could lift the instrument to its lips it paused. Looked down at the group with its hollow eyes, and hissed.

Whatever Marcus and Nerinai had prepared pissed the demon off, but now they had a chance.