"So, I'm sure we can all agree now that there's something terribly wrong with me" Tombert stated, lyre in hand.

"Something wrong? People could have drowned!" Percy burst.

Next to him, Evans climbed back up on to the deck. He shook off the lakewater and algae like a pup. But the infuriating veneer of heroism clung to him still.

"Yes, they could have drowned, but what fun" came Tombert's retort as they smoothed down their wind-teased hair.

"You're serious?"

"Surprising everyone, but perhaps most of all myself, yes, I am. Listen, they all know what happens in my concerts by now. You think they come here unawares? This, this" Tombert gestured about wildly, "is why they come. But I want no more of it. If you four can find a way to make it stop, I'll be forever in your debt. I don't yet know what that means exactly, as I've never before found myself in such a predicament, but I give you my word, I'll make those words count."

"A lot of words" Myrtle remarked, still wheezing.

"Again – I'm a bard. I'll see you tonight at the party, yes?"

They turned and strode back to the tent, their pearl earring dangling with a milky glint, leaving behind a crowd wrecked ashore by a dance.

Valeria stared, her hands still picking out leaves and algae from her drenched tunic, an unwelcome thought lingering at the threshold of her notice.

"Wait. What party?"

They soon dove back into the perfumed silks of the tent. They were shown by an attendant with long hair and an even longer face to their quarters. Like every other room in the tent, it was partitioned from the other quarters merely with coloured fabrics. Percy could not tell whether the deference the attendant showed them was due to his earlier announcement of being "of the chosen one's retinue", or whether it was due to their apparent connection with Tombert de L'Isle. They left only their blankets in the room, though Percy suspected that even the chosen one's blanket might make for prized memorabilia.

There were a few hours left before the party. The sprawling, lamp-lit interior of the tent unfurled before them like a gilded tapestry. Percy realized it was not just a tent nearly the size of a town: it was a town, with shops, taverns, baths, streets of muffled steps and uncommon sights, feather-crested dancers, revellers piled on cushions and laps, musicians tuning their instruments and poets sharpening their wits. Percy stiffened. He saw dangers everywhere: in hot baths murmuring and moaning perfumed steam, in wine-tinted faces painted with gold and jewels, in claret poured like satin on overflowing cups. There were scents he hardly dared think of, for fear they would linger on him. There was warm tobacco and resin, crushed rose petals, and the slick oil of jasmine perfume on heated skin. He wondered if he still smelt of the incense that was burned in his home.

Percy had been taught about pleasures as heroes ought to be. Enraptured expressions and loosened limbs were never simply signs of the joy of others: they were threats that sought his downfall. And this was indeed a mighty battlefield.

He could feel himself succumbing already. He was suddenly aware of how heavy his leather purse was at his waist, and he longed to lighten it. He saw all manner of things he did not need, and very much wanted: a handkerchief that was too beautifully embroidered to use, an opal ring that was too expensive to wear and risk losing. Everywhere they passed, Evans gave vendors a smile so charming that they ought to pay him, and he wondered in rapture at every piece of finery he saw; but he purchased only a pair of woollen socks, for, as he solemnly informed Percy, he had not been able to mend the hole in his. Even Valeria, on whom Percy now placed the burden of perpetual good sense, seemed captivated by an antique dealer who dazzled her with old rare books.

"Do you think I should buy a shawm?" Myrtle asked him as they stood by a well-polished stall.

"No" came his horrified answer.

"Why not?"

"Whatever you think of me, I will not facilitate the apocalypse."

"But it's a bargain."

"It will only drive up the price of other things. Like silence and sanity."

She bought it.

Percy turned in desperation to Evans, who was tucking away his new purchase with a loving gentleness that was wholly unwarranted for socks. But before Percy could exercise his finely-honed talents of a seven-year-old snitching on a classmate, Evans spoke first.

"What do you think of what happened back there? With the concert?"

"I think I'll have nightmares about what that power could do in the hands of someone more interested in using it than Tombert."

Evans nodded. His expression was strained by an anxiety that Percy was finally learning to unearth in him.

"Did you notice anyone in the crowd... anyone who stood out for some reason?"

Percy squinted, trying his best to recall the rows and rows of mirrored dances. He shook his head.

"So still no apparent fae or sorcerer to take credit for the curse" Evans sighed. "Well, let's wait and see."

"And keep our eyes open at tonight's party" Percy added, proud of himself for having unearthed a crumb of action.

"Yes. But we can also, you know... have a little fun, too."

Percy stared at the incomprehensible smile Evans gave him. Socks, smiles, and having fun at parties – it was too much muck splattering on the chosen one's tale-polished shine. Percy turned on his heel and busied himself by browsing jewelled trinkets.

And, when the others had their backs turned, he bought himself a pair of socks, to replace those he had not admitted to having worn out.

To Percy's dismay, they were quick to find The Rabble-rousers' party. They climbed up precarious ladders to a second floor of wooden foundations, and soon found themselves in a sizeable room crowded with heat and music. Everywhere melted with silks, cushions and bead curtains. The scent he had caught earlier of rose and sandalwood lingered here, too. Tombert was already there, splayed on silver-threaded pillows, with a half-open sleeveless vest that bared a slit of their chest. A court of admirers had gathered to wrap them in adoration, while a lutist played an idle tune.

With a brief look at his companions, Percy feared they might soon fall prey to the party: Valeria had already gotten hold of a drink that dangerously resembled wine, Myrtle was on the brink of joining a spirited argument in a corner, and Evans smiled at the music that no one else was paying attention to. Percy knew he had to act quickly if he was to prevent dawdling.

"Right. I can ask around to see if someone noticed anything suspicious, and Myrtle" – he had not quite worked up the suicidal courage needed to boss Valeria around, but Myrtle seemed like a safe starting point – "you can position yourself somewhere and see if anyone looks particularly fae-like to you – "

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

"Percy!" a voice erupted to his left.

Leo walked towards him, wearing a figure-hugging burgundy tunic that flattered his figure and laughed in the face of shame. His long blond hair hid the glint of a single pearl earring, in what Percy presumed to be an attempt to emulate Tombert's style.

He should have seen it coming, given his previous experience with Leo, but he was still subdued into muteness when the musician tightened an embrace around him.

"I'm so glad you came!" he said, and, to Percy's surprise, meant it, too. Percy had never heard those words spoken with quite such sincerity at parties: they rarely served any purpose beyond displaying a mastery of the rules of politeness.

"That was intense back there, wasn't it?" Leo grinned, throwing an arm around his shoulder.

His ecstatic joy confused Percy for a moment. Surely he could not mean –

"At the concert? Yes, it was intense, people could have drowned! What is wrong with you all?"

"An awful lot of things that I do not wish to fix. Come on, let me introduce you to some people."

Such words had never failed to spark terror in Percy. He looked behind helplessly at his companions, but they had vanished behind the other guests.

It was all new to him. He had never had people introduced to him; he had only ever been introduced to people. He had never had to remember names: his name had been the only one that mattered. Each introduction wore him out and frayed his patience, and he knew he would not be as easy to mend as a pair of socks.

And then, he did not quite know how, he found himself sat on the floor by Tombert's side, a glass of spiced wine in his hand, tucked awkwardly between a woman who spoke too little, and a man who spoke too much. One of the bard's admirers played a few notes on a clay ocarina that was shaped like a bird, interrupting the tune with laughter.

"You charlatan!" he grinned at Tombert, his voice tilted in a teasing tone. "You said it would call the rain, but it's never worked so far!"

"It does call the rain. It doesn't guarantee the rain will come if you call it. It's not a golden retriever" Tombert smirked. "Percival! I like the sight of you more the more I see you. Enjoying yourself?"

Percy mumbled something incomprehensible. No one bothered to ask him to repeat it, and he felt grimly vindicated that they cared as little for his answer as he had first supposed. Tombert's flattering words to him sparked a few looks of clear jealousy that would have been sharp-edged, had they not been blunted by wine, perfumes and plush cushions.

From where he sat now, he saw too much and not enough. He could not see his friends. He saw heads spinning, hands wandering, bodies dancing into bodies and lips melting into lips. These people ought to be ashamed of themselves, yet they were not. He could not understand why he had been so thoroughly schooled on everything that brought shame, just to find that he was the only fool in a room who bothered to feel any. There was something painful about seeing others enjoy themselves in ways he had been told were beneath him. It was lonely, up here, and the heights thinned out the air he breathed.

"You don't have to enjoy yourself, you know" Tombert murmured. "It's just one of those things we say at parties without thinking much of it. And I wasn't teasing. I do like the sight of you."

Percy stared back at them. It was perhaps too obvious that he was running in place. Tombert gave a soft laugh.

"Oh dear, no, no need to look frightened. That meant nothing more and nothing less than what it meant. I'm not romancing you. 'Head over heels' sounds like an uncomfortable position to me."

They leaned in closer to whisper in Percy's ear.

"Take him, for instance" they murmured, glancing at the man who had spoken earlier. "I gave him that ocarina as a token of friendship. And now I have to dodge very, very persistent flirting from him, and insinuations and giggling fits from everyone else. No one believes me when I say I have no wish to court him. They all nod and wink like they know something about myself that I don't. Why must they always be so eager for a love story, Percival? I've seen pigs dig for truffles with less greediness. Do you think it was callous of me to give that gift, without thinking of how it might be interpreted?"

Percy pondered of a while. The vapours of the party were fogging up his mind. Whatever he was drinking was sweet, spiced, and more alcoholic than he had expected.

"I don't think you were callous. With that" he added before hiding behind his glass.

"Yes, you're right. I wanted to apologize about this afternoon. I hope you know I didn't mean to send those poor folks splattering into the lake. I'm never really aware of what this power – curse – can cause. And it has made me callous, and careless. That's why I want it to stop."

Percy nodded. To his horror, someone passing by refilled his glass. He was doomed. It was an inevitable fact of life that a glass held in a party was always sipped from, even if it was filled with watered-down beer-piss. And this tasted vastly better than that.

"Speaking of romance" Tombert said, staring at a corner of the room. "Do you think the general has designs on that defenceless man there? Gods, I'm beginning to sound just like everyone else. I'm sorry, I'm intolerable."

"The general?"

Percy followed Tombert's gaze, and his eyes barged right into Valeria's. She was talking to a man. Percy recognized him as the antique dealer who had shown her rare books in one of the stalls. Percy had only ever seen her stand that close to strangers to punch them. But she was smiling at the man with delicate, swaying tenderness, and had even loosened her blond hair from its braid. Her smile smudged away as soon as she caught Percy looking.

"She wouldn't" he babbled.

"Why not?" Tombert grinned.

Valeria touched the man's arm gently, graced him with an even gentler smile, and then left all smiles there as she strode over to Percy, her expression now inscrutable. A wriggling instinct in him told him to run away, but he still foolishly believed he could claim he hadn't seen anything.

"I need to speak to you" she announced as she reached him, looming cross-armed over them. "You noticed me with my friend back there."

It wasn't a question. She wasn't that generous.

"I – wasn't making fun of you."

"Making fun of me? Goodness, no, I wouldn't have expected something so childish of you. Well, not anymore."

Tombert squirmed as they tried to stifle a giggle, and instead stubbed their toe on a nearby stool.

"Aow! I fucking fucked my fucking foot!"

Percy bounced a harried stare between Tombert and Valeria. Her disapproval towered over them.

"Listen, madam general, disparage not the noble swear word" Tombert pleaded. "You might look down on it, but we would be fools without the buckets and sewers that carry off the shit of our days."

She gave a laugh that could have rocked the water out of the lake. She extended her hand to Percy to help him up from where he sat.

"I'll return him to you soon, I just need him for a moment" she said to Tombert, grinning still.

Percy followed her to a quieter part of the room. He resisted the urge to salute as she stood before him.

"Percy, I need your help with something. You saw me with that man back there."

He relaxed a little. Now he understood. She had spied some odd behaviour in that man, and needed Percy's help to keep an eye on him, or, better still, to tackle him to the ground and announce that they had apprehended the culprit for Tombert's curse. North returned to Percy's compass at last.

"Could you... go speak to him a little, and try to figure out if he's interested in me?"

Somewhere in his head, Percy heard his brain jam.

"Ask him. If he's interested in you."

"Please don't repeat my words back to me, it's bloody exasperating. You don't need to do it if you feel uncomfortable, of course. But I would be very thankful to you."

She had played her cards well. Earlier she had praised his maturity, and now whatever enjoyment he could get out of teasing her was not worth wasting that hard-earned compliment.

"But... why have you asked me?"

"Myrtle found some servants back there and is trying to recruit them for her guild. Yes, I know, you don't approve, but she's convinced me it can be a good thing."

Percy followed Valeria's eyes. Myrtle stood by a table lined with glasses that shivered and clinked every time someone bumped into it. She had already amassed a sizeable crowd of listeners, who occasionally nodded and voiced their approval. From time to time little "yeahs!" and "hear hears!" would crackle up like fireworks.

"And... Evans?" Percy asked, scanning the room.

Valeria sighed.

"I would never ask such a thing of Evans" she said.

"Oh, of course. I suppose it's not important enough for you to bother the chosen one about it."

Nothing was quite so prickly for Percy as feeling inconsequential. He supposed now he was merely there to pick up the litter of unwanted, undignified tasks.

"Truly, Percy, if you applied your imagination to something other than your grim view of the world, we'd all be better for it. I did not mean that. I meant that..."

He saw her hesitate, and blush, and all manner of things that mountains should not do. Percy was often rendered speechless by Valeria, but somehow the sight of Valeria speechless was far more daunting. If mountains could crumble, what next?

"Evans... wouldn't understand why I asked" she pushed through eventually. "He would do it, I'm sure, because he is too sweet to refuse an old friend, if it helped me and did no harm to others. But he wouldn't understand. He wouldn't understand why I can't just go and ask that man myself."

Percy nodded. Somehow, he knew what she meant.

"Right. So why does this antique dealer please you so much?" he grinned.

It would be criminal to pass up entirely such an opportunity to tease Valeria. But she did not balk for a moment.

"I like the thoughtful way he handles books. How he turns the pages and such."

Percy stared. Valeria stared back. And then, though he was incapable of saying why, he turned and walked away to do as she bid him.