"Sir—Mr Layton, I couldn't possibly trouble you like that."

Layton shook his head. "It's no trouble, I assure you. Considering your lack of modern funds as well as the assistance you've given me, I couldn't possibly refuse to host you."

Barnham took another moment to consider this. "Very well. In return, I shall do my best to find a way to support myself. Should you need my assistance in any matter, inform me and I'll be happy to help."

"Understood. Luke, my boy? Would you be so kind as to lead Mr Barnham to the guest room? I shall see to a few things down here in the meantime."

"Of course, Professor!" Luke adjusted his hat before stepping towards the stairway and turning his head back. "Mr Barnham, your room is upstairs, next to the music room. I hope you'll find it up to your standards."

"I do not doubt that it will be."

"And yours, too, of course, Constantine." Luke made it halfway up the stairs, his hand on the ornate railing, before he stopped. "Oh! Flora!"

Quizzical, Barnham took one more step up and looked past Luke. A bit past the end of the flight stood a young lady with rosy cheeks.

"Luke!" The girl gasped before hurrying down the stairs, her skirt hitched up, and attacking Luke with a hug.

"You're back! I didn't hear you come in." She pulled away, letting her arms fall as she held her hands together.

"Really?" Luke tilted the brim of his hat upwards and frowned. "I'm sorry. We should have called out to you straight off."

"It's all right. Once you rang from the station, I knew you were safe." She glanced behind Luke and blinked in surprise. "H-hello. You must be Mr Barnham?"

Barnham put a hand to his chest and bowed as well as he could without bumping into Luke. " 'Tis a pleasure to meet you, Miss Flora."

He paused, turning his gaze to Luke with a more dour expression. "I'll have you know that if you intend for me to have a room rightfully belonging to a young lady, I shall take no part in this."

"No, no! Of course that's not it!" Luke held up a finger. "Flora has her own room downstairs. You needn't worry about displacing her."

Flora smiled, backtracking up the stairs. "It's such a pleasure to meet you, Mr Barnham. I... I'd be happy to help you with your room after I welcome the professor back."

"There's no need for that, miss. Go on, Luke. Let's not keep her trapped here."

Flora quickly vanished around the side of the banister but managed to give them a nod before she hurried down the now-empty stairs.

Barnham shifted his heavier luggage to his other hand as he continued to follow Luke past what appeared to be some sort of playroom. "Is she your sister?"

"Who, Flora? I'm afraid she isn't. The professor has just taken us both under his wing, in a manner of speaking." He tilted his chin up. "Only I am his actual apprentice, however."

Barnham shut his eyes, recalling how quickly Flora had scurried down the stairs both times. "The three of you seem very close."

"Well—M-Mr Barnham!"

The small suitcase hit the floor with a clatter as Barnham froze, hunching over as streaks cut across his vision and accompanying stabs shot through the center of his head. He knew by now that gripping his head would hardly help—he just had to power through as well as he could.

Easier said than done, with an army wreaking havoc on the insides of his skull.

"Were there no vegetables tonight?"

Zacharias, sitting on the edge of the bed, frowned. "Stewed greens of some type, yes. But certainly nothing of restaurant quality."

Constantine's mouth scrunched to the side of his face as he crossed his arms.

"I hardly imagined you would actually want any." Zacharias let his shoulder blades fall back onto the bed, sending a vibration through the mattress. "I never thought I'd see the day you would ask for more vegetables."

"Well, it's not as if I like the taste of them all of a sudden." He sniffed. "It's just that..." His expression hardened. "I must try to grow stronger."

He pushed himself up on one elbow. "You must?"

"Yes." Constantine's hands balled into fists. "As it is now, every time it's you protecting me. But I want to be able to protect you, too...!"

"Ruff, ruff!"

"I can hear you." Barnham's voice was weak, and he made sure to force more air into it. "I'm all right."

He opened his eyes as the chaos just behind them faded into a dull throbbing. Luke had taken hold of the dropped suitcase despite its weight, while Constantine barked a few more times before picking up his own bag in his mouth.

"I apologize for that." Barnham extended a hand to Luke. "I'm certain I can handle that case the rest of the way."

Luke shook his head, smiling. "Don't worry! I've got it!" He gripped the handle with both hands and lifted the case off the ground, albeit slightly.

"Ungh..." He waddled a few steps forward, straining, before Barnham forcibly swiped the baggage from him.

"The professor's apprentice or otherwise, you're still just a boy. Don't get hurt overexerting yourself."

Luke frowned and took up the other luggage he had been carrying. "Um, sorry."

Barnham sighed as he continued to follow Luke towards the room. "I should have just kept the sword around my waist."

"As we went through the middle of London?! I think not!"

"It's not as if I would threaten anyone with it."

Luke set his burden down and turned a doorknob. "Even so, you do swing it around quite a bit trying to make your point."

His brow furrowed. "Quite a bit? Do I really?"

Luke adjusted his cap, smiling sheepishly. "Well..."

Barnham continued to ponder this for a moment before shaking his head. "I take it this is the guest room?"

"That's right! Your room now."

Barnham stepped forward, placing his case against the wall. Constantine did likewise as his master looked over the chamber.

Spacious and loosely furnished—though stocked with books that may well have overflown from the other rooms—it was painted a reasonable shade of brown that reflected quite a bit of the sparse sunlight entering the window. Shadows cast by the open shutters sent stripes across the clean bed, and a door on the side opposite it hid a small closet.

It was quaint enough. Nice carpet rather than a stone floor, electric lights rather than candles, nothing hanging on the walls, no need for a small fireplace, no displays of armour, no flags of Labyrinthia, no Lady Darklaw...

"What do you think, Mr Barnham? Will it do?"

And no Inquisitor Barnham...

No wonder so many had stayed behind in the town. It truly was an entirely different and disorienting world out here...

"The room is perfectly fine, thank you." He inhaled. "I'll bring the rest of my luggage in."

He turned to leave, but a glimmer on the bookshelf caught his eye. "Hmm?"

"What is it?" Luke followed his gaze before grabbing his hat and pointing. "Oh! It's a hidden puzzle!"

"Eh?" Barnham frowned. "Preposterous! An undiscovered puzzle, in the very home of Sir Top Hat?" He admittedly would have held out his sword for emphasis if it had been accessible. "With you and him both living here, no puzzle could ever escape detection."

Luke thought on this for a moment before grinning and tilting his hat upward. "Supposing we prefer to leave a few for our guests?"

Barnham lifted his hand, all but the index finger allowed to curl. "A solid argument." He opened his eyes. "Very well, then. What kind of puzzle is it?"

"I'll warn you right now, this one looks like a bit of a doozy..."


After several days of adaptation and too many proffered puzzles to successfully avoid, Barnham was able to secure a job. There were few available—even fewer considering his lack of a full secondary education—and none were particularly lucrative. But he had to start somewhere if he ever wanted to reimburse the professor, let alone follow the path laid out for him.

Ms Nguyen was a kind woman reminiscent of Patty Eclaire despite their vast difference in physique. The former, however, was a bit less fiery and held her craft at a much less serious level, although that wasn't saying much. Part of this could be due to her broader specialty; the Tao Cafe served various Asian dishes as well as many types of boba tea.

The restaurant wasn't known to be bustling, but Ms Nguyen could hardly run it by herself. With the afternoon waiter/cashier no longer in the industry, she was offering a reasonable per-hour pay, and she didn't seem to mind the holes in Barnham's formal education. So long as he was able to perform his duties politely and with a smile, he was welcome to work under her.

"Are Wednesdays typically this slow?" Barnham glanced over the empty chairs and couches as he cleaned the most recently used of the tables.

Ms Nguyen leaned her elbow on the window between the register and kitchen. "We don't get much at this hour any day but Saturday. The biggest waves are usually kids getting out of school, so it should pick up in hour or so."

And so it did. Most customers were happy to order a drink and leave, but three tables bustled with hungrier patrons.

"Are you new here?" asked one such patron, an older but very smiley teenage girl wearing a jersey that said Milliner.

Barnham nodded. " 'Tis in fact my first day. I should hope it does not prevent me from providing you with the best of service, milady—m-miss." Even if he was technically serving this young woman, that was not a proper form of address in this place. He would do well to finally get that through his head...

Miss Milliner poorly stifled a laugh, though she didn't seem to be jeering. " 'Milady'?"

Barnham sighed, raising a hand with fingers curled. "You could say... I was brought up in an interesting environment." He glanced at another table. "If you would be so kind as to excuse me..."

She didn't seem to mind, so he darted over to check on a quickly depleting glass of water. No sooner had he filled and returned it than the bell at the front door, which was made of some non-threatening metal, jangled. Barnham looked up in time to see two figures enter: one most likely a customer and the other far too small to be the same.

"Constantine!" Waiterly smile dropped, Barnham hurried to intercept the little creature. "I'm at work!"

Instantly he realised this meant very little to the dog who had always been free to wander about the court building and keep Barnham company as he perused evidence in the Inquisitors' Hall.

"Woof!"

"Oh! Is he your dog?" A younger patron on her way to the exit tried to peek around the troubled waiter. "He's so cute!"

"May I pet it?" asked another.

Barnham shot a glance at the customer who had just stepped in and apologised to him.

"Lady Nguyen?" He craned his neck to see her through the small kitchen window. "May I leave for a moment to have a word with Constantine?"

The cook paused, squinted eyes scanning the puppy. "He's well-trained?"

"Yes, but unfortunately not in regards to when and where he may keep me company."

Ms Nguyen waved a hand. "Just make sure he doesn't come in kitchen. He shouldn't be a problem."

"Are you certain?" Barnham asked, brow furrowed.

"Of course. Wash your hands and get back to your job."

"Yes, milady." He took a step back towards the sink behind the counter but paused to look Constantine in the eye. "Everyone here is an honoured guest. Treat them appropriately. You," he called to the patrons as he slipped behind the counter, "are free to pet him if he allows you to. Hand sanitizer is by the register should you feel you need it.

"I'm terribly sorry about the wait, sir. What may I get for you?"