According to Cåktakal, waking Lænzey from her slumber was an arduous affair. He tried a number of different methods to get her to wake up, none of which worked. I half-wish I could have taken revenge by kicking her awake, but I was already asleep by this time. As Cåktakal was about to give up, though, she spontaneously awoke.

"Oh my god, I have to...to..."

"Everything alright, lass?"

She let out a breath. "Yeah. Just a nightmare is all. Is it time to scout the cook yet?"

"Yep."

"Oh, good. That means I don't have to go back to the nightmare."

"I'll see if I can find it when my watch is up."

Lænzey chuckled. "Well, be sure not to trip on your way there."

"I'll keep it in mind. You know where the cook is?"

"The kitchen, but I'm not sure where the kitchen is."

"Go ask the receptionist; she'll know."

Lænzey did just that.

"Yeah, it's down the northeast hallway over there." Aaknik pointed lazily towards the hallway in question. "Go straight for as long as you can, then when you turn the corner, it's the first right after that that isn't a doorway. If it's a doorway, that's the way to the overseer's office. Make sure it's a ramp, not a teleporter or a stairway—that is, a downward ramp. If it's an upward ramp, that's the way to the break room, and you've gone too far."

"...uhh, got it. Thanks."

Lænzey faithfully executed the complicated instructions and found herself emerging from a long, dimly-lit ramp downwards into a brightly-lit room. When her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw she was indeed in a kitchen, of professional grade. She also saw the dullahan, wearing her head on her shoulders as she bustled from station to station along with a small cadre of assistants performing various tasks. It took a few cycles of running back and forth for the dullahan to notice her.

The cook immediately dropped the stack of dishes she was holding. "Oh, crap, I have to talk with you now?" She shook, eyes wide with terror.

Lænzey said, "Hey, I'm not that bad."

No response. She was muttering to herself frantically, seemingly failing to notice Lænzey approaching her.

"Hey."

Still no response.

Lænzey grabbed her shoulder and said, "Hey!"

Suddenly noticing Lænzey again, she flinched away with a sharp intake of breath.

"Are you okay?"

The terrified cook shook her head.

"Do you want to sit down?"

Some tears escaped her eyes. "Yes."

"Go ahead."

The dullahan rushed into a closet at Lænzey's right.

Lænzey approached the closet. Then, slowly, she opened the door. She sat down next to the crying dullahan.

"Look, I'm not here to bite your face off or anything;" she said softly, "I'm just here to ask you some questions. Is that alright?"

The cook choked out an "Okay."

"What's your name?"

"Kæypizklæy."

"Umm..." She blinked a couple times. "That's an...interesting name." With the patience of a saint, Lænzey continued, "So, Kæypizklæy, why are you so afraid of me?"

"Because you're going to kill everyone again."

"Again?"

She looked off to the side, ashamedly. "They already killed everyone the first time."

"Who did?"

"The Dark Army."

"Wait, what?" Lænzey blinked twice again. "Why are you working with them, then?"

"That was the choice they gave me. Join them, or be 'placed under surveillance' with the others."

"What others? Actually, who did they even kill in the first place?"

"My dad."

Lænzey deflated. "I see. Are you willing to talk about it?"

"I don't want to, but they told me I have to."

"If it helps any, once I know more, I could vouch for you after all this; it seems like you were a victim too."

She sighed and lowered her head. With a bit of effort, she began: "My father was the leader of our community. All the people from our villages, all of them loved him. Then the Dark Army swept into town, and they just sort of expected us to automatically join them, since we were inhumans. My dad wouldn't let them in, so they..."

Lænzey looked off to the side awkwardly.

"I begged them not to, but...it didn't matter. After that, nothing made sense anymore. They made me join them, and I asked not to be forced to fight, so they put me on cooking duty for the troops. It was awful; I'd burn myself on accident, I'd forget to wash the potatoes, I'd cut myself when I was trying to chop something. I just wanted to go back home and see my friends again.

"I got sent on leave eventually, and I did get to go back home, but..."

"...but what?"

"...Elsey, she..." She swallowed. "Elsey always came over to see me when I was growing up, and she'd teach me things like how to play tag, how to make friendship bracelets, or how to braid my hair. She was adventurous, and she had a rebellious spirit; she even learned firepower magic before she could count past 13." She smiled slightly. "Even when dad died, I was able to keep going because I knew I'd always have her. Then...well...she was under surveillance, and...she had an argument with one of the guards. She wasn't the only one, but...she was special to me." Kæypizklæy began crying again. "I miss her so much."

Lænzey gave her a hug. "It's going to be okay. Don't you worry, we'll kick those murdering sons of bitches' asses."

"I don't care about that," said the sobbing cook. "I just wanted to help people. And all I get is everyone I know dying. When you leave, you'll kill the other servants, and I'll be alone again!"

"No, no, we won't! Each one will get a chance to prove their intentions. Stop crying, dammit! We won't kill the servants!"

"I don't care about beïng first in command! I don't care about winning! I just want the people I love not to die! Give me my dad back! Give me my Elsey back!" She began crying much more loudly.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"It'll be okay," Lænzey said. "It'll be okay. It'll be okay."

----------------------------------------

Sekterns woke me up. I gave him a pat on the back.

I wasn't looking forward to this, but that's the way it goes sometimes. A lesser hero might have been bothered by the fact that he got stuck talking to the least important person on staff, but I knew this was probably what best served the team's time constraints. I was kinda bummed that I missed dinner, but I made Sulmoro miss dinner too, so I guess it served me right.

I pulled the cord to summon the dark elf, and she eventually appeared at the doorway.

"What can I do for you?"

"Where's the janitor?"

"She was actually in the break room with me just now, so you can just pull the cord again if you want her to come in and clea—"

"No. We're just fine at the moment. How about you take me to the break room instead?"

"Whatever our esteemed guest desires."

Upon reaching the break room, I saw the blue-clad servant gathering her cleaning supplies for the evening.

"Zlajenik?" asked the green servant.

"Yes?"

"The guest is here to talk to you about your past."

The naga sighed. "Fine, but you'll have to follow me while I perform my duties. There's a lot of rooms I'll have to sweep for dust."

"It's not like I'm doïng this for fun anyway," I begrudgingly acquiesced.

"Hmph." replied the janitor.

"Have fun, you two!" the runner called out from behind us.

Now in the uppermost subterraneän layer, the janitor began sweeping what I imagined would be the first of many rooms.

"So, you're the janitor, right?"

"Yep."

"So, how are you close with the queen? I wouldn't imagine that someone as famously high-and-mighty as her would give much thought to her cleaning staff."

"Every. Meeting." she declared as she took the dustpan from the hallway and brushed the dust she'd accumulated into it. Then she dumped the dust into a large leather sack at her side.

"Uh, what?"

She moved to the next room. "I was at every single strategy meeting for the dark army. I'm responsible for a lot of of the offensives from early in the war"

"Then why are you here cleaning floors, and not staging some desperate last stand against us?"

"I was given the task of stopping you multiple times. I failed, of course, but the real problem was the fallout. I've been working here as a janitor since Olkol fell as a punishment from the Queen. It's for letting so many people die under my watch."

I clicked my tongue. "Not smart of her to do that. Locking away one of her best strategists when she's about to lose the war?"

"If my plans turned out the way they did, what makes you think I was a good strategist?"

I wasn't sure what to say to that, so I just shrugged. She cleaned the next several rooms in silence.

"By the way, how far down does this place go?"

"Another three floors, although the one below this is mostly just a docking bay for shipments. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," I replied.

This was goïng nowhere, so I decided to change gears. "Alright, new topic. I already know your name, and it doesn't match with any of the Queen's monikers, so that part won't help me. What I need to do is to get a good ideä of your relationships with the others, so we can cross-reference."

"Sound strategy. Who first?"

"The runner. You seemed unusually upbeat whenever you two were around each other, both when we arrived and when you delivered the meal."

"I'm the one who brought Olæren into the leadership. She's got a good head for numbers, and she kept me in check when I proposed something unworkable. We have a rapport."

"Makes sense to me. How about the cook?"

"She's still young, and she's got a good heart, but she needs some real help and some time to work through her issues: help I can't give, and time we don't have."

"I guess I'll have to check with Lænzey about that. The receptionist?"

"She's a slacker. She takes the easy way out far too often, but that actually makes her a good general, kinda like a real-life Solo Riktlar."

"Sorry, a whatnow?"

"Haven't you ever read the Epic of Ældaræmn?"

"Not really, no. I wasn't really a fan of books before all this."

"A shame. Kids these days have no appreciation of the classics."

"Anyway, the overseer?"

"Overseer Kalulowzt? She's a tough taskmaster, but she means well. I have very few complaints."

"But not none?"

"No."

"What complaints might those be?"

"Well..."

----------------------------------------

While I was occupied, Sulmoro had gone off on her own to meet the overseer. Apparently Lænzey had been able to remember the part in the receptionist's directions that mentioned the overseer's office.

Alas, when Sulmoro arrived, the overseer wasn't there. It makes sense in retrospect; after all, it was midnight, and Cåktakal learned that the hotel didn't start normal hours until around sunrise. Nevertheless, Sulmoro commendably stood by for another four winaawats and waited for her interviewee to appear.

"What are you doïng here?"

"Waiting for you," Sulmoro coolly replied. "Why'd you take so long?"

"I live on my own schedule and don't know or care about yours."

Sulmoro smiled. "How refreshingly honest."

"Niceties waste time, and I have so little these days."

"Niceties, or time?"

"Both, but only time is a new development. I never had much in the way of niceties."

"I have been told the same thing for myself, although I always liked to think otherwise."

"You do strike me that way."

"Shall we begin?"

The taskmaster leveled Sulmoro a cool stare. "Yes. I will begin putting together the tasklist for the day, and you may join me." She then busied herself by looking through her notes, strewn upon the desk in haphazard fashion.

"I was referring to the task which your Queen had given you."

"I don't have much time to look away from the tasklists. Before we know it, it'll be past sunrise and I won't have anything to post on the taskboard. Then the hotel will stop running until I can get the staff up to speed."

"You are willing to disobey your own Queen?"

"I'm ecstatic at a winless team. Talk to me while I'm working and I might be able to respond."

"Then I shall question you now. Tell me of your subordinates."

The overseer sighed. "They don't do what they were assigned to do, and for a fair portion of the time. Either that or they don't do it right, or they do it right but they act all mad about having to do it right...it feels like—"

"Like they are doïng it merely to spite you? Yes, I have encountered much the same. The two under my guidance have certainly grown more mature, but they have also grown obstinate, strong-willed, and wrongheaded. I begin to suspect them of deliberate subterfuge"

"I'm surprised. I didn't think anyone could be less coöperative than Olæren or Aaknik."

"They may shepherd cutthroats and beasts in our ranks, but I doubt any comparison to you and yours is apt."

"Maybe. The amount of bitching and moaning I get from the simplest of orders is enough to send me off the waterfall."

"Alas, I do not have the power to even give orders. Too many do not listen to reason in such matters."

"Agreed. Ultimately, keeping the show running is all that needs to be the priority."

"That it need be the priority seems quaint, given that there is no one here who might be able to enjoy the show."

"A real shame, yeah," she said unconcernedly, as she took out a quill and began scribbling on a piece of paper.

Sulmoro stood in silence as the overseer worked. Then, she raised her staff above her head, praying "Oh do grant me this gift, the fortitude that I may need and that fortune favor me to discover what truths lay beneath!" She then lowered it back down into normal position, and asked the overseer: "Are you the Queen?"

"Funny enough, that's the one question we aren't allowed to answer."

Sulmoro was baffled. "Bu—"

"By the way, why did you pray that way?"

Sulmoro did a double-take. "I'm praying as any priest might."

"Is that so?" the overseer remarked, eyebrows rising. "The demon villages used to pray the same way. Same words and everything."

"And when was this, exactly?"

"Before we phased it out. There might still be some who do it, but it kept weirding out the surfacefolk, and we tend to frown on it when people abdicate responsibility."

"You frown on prayers for inner strength, yet you say nothing as your Queen has abdicated?"

"I said a lot, but the queen is still the queen, and she hasn't abdicated anything yet."

"Is she here, ruling her subjects as is her duty?"

"Yes."

"Then where is she? I do believe I require an appointment with her. Unless of course, she is too busy posing as hotel staff to receive me."

The overseer suddenly stopped her work, sighing and folding her hands into a tent shape. "What is paramount is trusting in one's superior's decisions, and when those decisions seem unorthodox, they may be challenged, but must always be followed through upon. You don't understand what's at play here."

"I believe I understand plenty fine, thank you. 'One rule for me and another for thee,' says your Queen."

"Doubtful. The Queen is undertaking hard work for the sake of the safety of her subjects."

"And if I don't think she should be doïng that work?"

"Tough luck then."

"And if I should then decide to stop her myself?"

"Stand against, and you must stand aside, or you will never stand up."

"Is that a threat?"

"It's the code the realm must live by."

"Not I," declared Sulmoro. Then she stormed out of the room.