"That should just about do it," nodded Enna, bouncing her eyes among the six sending stones on the table.

"That wasn't so bad!" chuckled Aribis.

"No, not as bad as I had expected," agreed Enna. "Now we just need to pass them out."

She gathered the stones and handed one to Aribis before turning toward the hall. Just as she took a step, she heard the fluttering of footsteps coming down the stairs, and Sooka appeared at the end of the hallway.

"Sooka!" called Enna. "Perfect timing. We just synced up all the sending stones. We can each keep one so we can stay in touch." She held one out as Sooka trotted up.

"Sooka," nodded the kenku, taking her sending stone with a smile before stuffing it into one of her many pockets. Then she rushed over to the kitchen, searched around in some cupboards, filled more pockets with snacks, and scampered back up the stairs.

"She's been in her room a lot lately, hasn't she?" voiced Enna.

When she received no response, she glanced around the room and found that it was empty, and the door left cracked. With a sigh, she closed the door with a gust of wind and made her way up the stairs. Reaching William's room, she knocked on the door, but no response came. She pursed her lips and trudged up the next flight of stairs until she reached Bash's room.

She marched up to his door with purpose and then faltered with a fist raised, prepared to knock.

"We can still be friends," he'd said.

Shaking her head, she took a deep breath before rapping the door with her knuckles.

Of all the things to say, she scorned.

There was only a brief pause before it opened, and Bash with his beautiful hazel eyes stood before her. He was dressed casually, but his dagger was still at his waist. What was odd to her was that his hair was down, not contained to his normal bun or ponytail, and she may have laughed on any other day to see it this way. But rather than comment on any of these things, she merely thrust out her hand and offered a sending stone.

"What's this?" he asked, taking it and eyeing the symbol etched into the surface.

"One of the sending stones," she replied. "There are six, so we can each have one. That way we can always stay in touch."

"Smart." He smiled, and Enna diverted her gaze. "What do we do with the sixth one?"

"What?"

"There are five of us, right? What do we do with the sixth one?"

"Oh, um… I hadn't thought that far yet."

"Why not keep it in the manse?" offered Bash.

"…Here?"

She wanted to slap herself. Was it really this hard to focus? She needed more rest. Or maybe a full-fledged vacation.

"Yeah, we could leave it with the head of security. Have it switched out with the shifts. That way if there's ever an emergency and we're all out and about, we can know about it."

"That's… a good idea," she nodded slowly. "I'll do that. Thanks."

Then she turned on her heel and headed across the hall.

"Enna," he called after her, and she paused and watched him expectantly. "Are you okay?"

The very question almost brought tears to her eyes.

No, she thought. I'm not okay.

Even now, she could feel the burning sensation of the sword as it had plunged into her body. The scars that decorated her elven skin – none of them communicated the deepest wound of her death. None of them showed the rage that had built inside her when she had confronted the doppelganger last week. None of them spoke of her intense desire to torture another living being. Nothing showed the fear and disgust she had for herself.

No, they were mere façades masking the horrors that now plagued her mind every night.

But she said none of this.

"I'm fine," she said flatly before rushing into her room.

There, she dumped the remaining three sending stones onto her bed and moved toward the open window. Peering outside, she breathed deeply of the fresh air as she spotted William on the grounds, toiling in the garden.

Maybe he wasn't avoiding me, she thought before snatching the stones once again and transforming into a blackbird. Then she sailed out the window and flitted down to William.

She chirped to announce her arrival, and the monk turned his head up to watch her land on a nearby fencepost. She bounced twice and chirped some more.

"Enna, I presume," he said.

After transforming, she grinned and nodded.

"I brought you something," she said, holding out a stone.

"A sending stone," he affirmed, taking it and sticking it in his pocket. "I appreciate that."

"Everyone has one," she explained. "I'm also going to give one to the security guards so that whoever is on duty has one and we can communicate with them no matter where we go."

"That is very wise."

She glanced around at the garden, nearly pristine thanks to his efforts over the past week or two. Many herbs – basil, rosemary, sage, thyme, and lavender – grew within the bounds of the magical climate stone, keeping the plants a nice temperate atmosphere despite the distinct nip in the air outside its radius. William even appeared to be sweating from his work, though it was only a light misting on his brow and back. In his hands was a set of shears, and a basket lay on the ground next to him, full of various herb branches.

"What are you up to?" she asked.

"Gathering," he said, pointing to the basket. "I'm going to head into town later and see if I can sell some."

"That sounds like fun!"

"I like simple work." He snipped off a length of basil. "Gives me something to focus on."

She nodded as he continued in his efforts, and her eyes and feet wandered off into the grass, where she just spotted Luna crawling amid the tufts. She wandered over and reached down to pat the little snail. As she left the reach of the climate stone, a chill came over her, and she shivered slightly. But she did not mind. Instead, she was thinking about what William had said.

Maybe she needed something to focus on, too.

Besides, if nobody else was going to worry about a missing boy, it didn't matter. She didn't have to wait for everyone to join her. She could talk to Lord Kirin by herself.


Armed with a basket full of herbs and with his old Mireguard cloak draped around his bare shoulders, William made his way through the districts of Agneward until he reached the marketplace. It was bustling at the moment, people running to and fro searching for the subjects of their future dinners. Most of the stalls served various fruits and vegetables, slabs of meat, wines and cheeses, spices, and any other sort of food one might imagine.

He nodded gruffly to those around him as he weaved toward the market manager, and after paying a small fee, he adopted an empty market stall in the corner. Then as attractively as he could manage, he spread out the herbs and began to wait for customers.

Slowly, they began to trickle by. He tried to be as engaging as possible, asking for any newsworthy information as he completed transactions. Most people referred to the Colosso finale or the rumors that had swarmed the city of some dastardly scheme of evil forces that had been hidden from the public. William could not help but crack a smile at such comments, involved as he had been in both affairs. But he found that as long as he kept the hood up on his cloak, hiding his hairless scalp, no one seemed to recognize him as William Pacifist of the Natural Misfits. Rather, he kept to his anonymity, the herbs sold, and he gathered a neat pile of copper.

Eventually, he began being more direct. Rather than asking for news, he asked if anyone knew of a boy that had gone missing. Someone finally offered up the name of a boy – Ivan Lightthorn – though they knew little about the circumstances of his disappearance.

With all his herbs sold, William gathered the money and began to question people directly as they traveled through the market.

"Do you know Ivan Lightthorn?" he asked people.

Most people shrugged and walked away. One woman stared wide-eyed, as if William had come there to murder her, before she scampered away down the street. But finally, someone seemed to recognize the name.

"Looking for Ivan, eh?" replied a human man traveling with a half-elf. "When you find him, tell him he owes us money."

He nodded toward his friend, and they continued down the road, but William caught up to them and held their shoulders, forcing them to spin and face him.

"What do you know of Ivan?" he asked.

"I said," spat the man, "he owes us money. Fool took us for a riot at the Nightingale a few nights ago."

"What else can you tell me about him?"

"Piece of trash, he is," inserted the half-elf. "And creepy."

"Aye," agreed the first. "Creepy bloke. Last time we saw him a couple weeks ago, we was at the Nightingale and five knuckles deep into a game of three-dragon ante. By the end, he owed us all kinds of money! Then this pretty young thing comes over and looks at him, givin' him those eyes, you know?" The man pointed at William with two fingers. "Stared at him, all weird-like. Next think we know, he takes off with her!"

"Didn't see him again after that," added the other.

"How much did he owe you?" asked William.

"Six gold pieces!" cried the first.

"Six?"

William dug through his purse, extracted six gold pieces, and placed them in the human's hand.

"Debts should always be paid," he explained.

"Well, thanks!" replied the human, eyes lighting up at the sight. He pocketed the money. "Anything else you wanna know?"

"Anything else you can tell me that might help me find him?"

"Uh…" He pondered the question.

"The Nightingale," inserted the half-elf. "We normally meet up with him at the Nightingale every week or two. Good place, you know, for the ladies." He winked.

"What did you mean when you said he was creepy?" asked William.

"He stares at people… Looks like he's dead inside."

"Yeah, you meet him, and he just looks at you like he wants to kill you or something."

"Thank you, gentlemen," nodded William. "If that is all you have to offer, I will be on my way to the Nightingale."

"Happy to help!" laughed the human, clinking the coins in his hand.

"You know where the Nightingale is?" asked the half-elf.

"No, I do not. Perhaps you could direct me?"


Having stowed the sending stone in his bag, Bash sat on his balcony, enjoying his expensive furniture and his stately view. He thought it funny to have ended up here, in the Circle, with a house of his own. Maybe not as grand as a castle, but certainly better than his other homes the past three centuries.

Motion caught his eye, and he glanced down to see Enna speaking to Flinn, one of the guards on the schedule for today. Standing, he peered down and watched as she handed over a sending stone before marching off toward the manse gate. At first, he grinned to see that she had followed his idea, and then he realized that she was going somewhere. And on foot. He frowned.

In a hurry, he threw on proper clothing and his leather armor, strapped on his rapier, and ran downstairs and out the door. Once he reached the street, he glanced around in either direction.

There she was, on the left, her black hair bouncing along on her back, nearly out of sight.

He sprinted over to her before casually falling in line with her pace, fighting to appear that he had not just sprinted a quarter mile.

"Hey," he said.

"Hello, Bash," she replied without looking at him.

"Where you headed?"

"The Bastion's Crest."

"What for?"

"To talk to Lord Kirin."

He pursed his lips.

"Why do you want to talk to him?" he pressed, fighting his growing frustration.

"To find the missing boy."

"You didn't want any help?"

She shrugged. "You're here now. I have help."

"Yes, I am," he muttered with a sigh.

They continued in silence until they reached the fort where they managed to reach Lord Kirin within a few short minutes, a stark contrast to their last urgent attempt. They must have caught him on an easy morning. He invited them into his office, and Bash and Enna sat in the provided chairs, watching Kirin across his sizable desk.

"What brings you here today?" he asked.

"I wanted to ask about the missing boy you'd mentioned earlier," explained Enna.

"Ah, yes," nodded Kirin. "His father is quite upset. But as you understand, we've had more pressing matters that have needed our attention."

"That's why I'm here. What can you tell me about him?"

"To the point today, I see," mused Kirin, casting a glance to Bash, who refused to return his amusement. "His name is Ivan Lightthorn, human, maybe mid-twenties. Son of Esol Lightthorn, a rather well-to-do widower. Owns an estate in the Carnations, and he's been bothering me about this case every day since Ivan went missing."

"It would make sense that a father wants to know where his son is," replied Enna coolly.

Concerned, Bash glanced at Enna. She had adopted that same tone the last time they'd come for help and Kirin had been less than accommodating. What happened to the fun-loving, free-spirited druid that had accompanied him on so many missions? Had she died that day, never to return?

Kirin eyed Enna carefully.

"As far as information goes, I'm afraid that's all I have to offer you," he said. "You might have better luck speaking to his father."

As Enna opened her mouth to reply, Bash interrupted, standing, and said, "Thank you, Lord Kirin." He thrust out his hand over the desk. "We'll take that advice and be on our way. I'm sure you're a busy man."

Pursing his lips and glancing between them, Kirin stood and shook Bash's hand as Enna pushed slowly to her feet. When Kirin offered her his hand, she glanced at it and hesitated.

Shake the hand, Enna, urged Bash with his mind. We don't need this enemy today.

Slowly, she reached out her hand and grasped Kirin's, shaking firmly before nodding and marching out the door.

"Thank you for your time, Lord Kirin," said Bash with a nod.

"Anything for the Misfits," muttered Kirin before sitting once more.


When they finally arrived in the Lightthorn Estate in the Carnations, Enna had grown tired of the city. People milled about everywhere, citizens mixed with stragglers from Colosso, and she was ready to leave. She needed time in nature, more than what she could find in the Vesper Gardens. She needed to feel grass between her toes, hear the rushing sound of a river or waterfall, run with a herd of wolves… She needed time away.

Bash, of course, was right at home among the throngs. He walked through the Circle, Daffodils, and Carnations with his head held high, shoulders back, eyes darting this way and that, always aware of his surroundings. Typically, Enna would love to watch Bash in this state, eager to see how his mind worked. Sometimes, she wished she could read minds like Sooka and discern whatever ran through his when he saw someone interesting. How many entrances to the Well had they passed by on their way here? Normally, Enna wanted to know. Normally, she would have loved to spend the day walking with him.

Today, however, his presence was his most irritating feature. She had hoped to be able to begin this investigation by herself, to avoid the other Misfits, especially Bash. She'd wanted to escape the swirling thoughts in her mind, the negative emotions that threatened to break her all over again at any given moment. And yet, here was one of the most obstinate reminders of those emotions, following her across the city.

Did he think he was helping?

"This is it," he said as they stopped before the large house.

Enna nodded and approached the door. It opened mere moments after she knocked, and an old butler ushered them into a sitting room, where they waited for the lord of the house. After several long minutes, he finally arrived – a wiry human, perhaps in his fifties – and greeted them with a haggard smile.

"Mr. Lightthorn," said Enna, standing quickly and shaking his hand.

"Please, call me Esol," he replied.

"Esol," she smiled. "I'm Enna, and this is Bash. We're here to see if we can find out what happened to your son."

"Oh!" A look of gratitude shone on his face as he placed a hand over his heart. "I had begun to think that the Knights would do nothing about it. I have been asking and asking, but nobody has done so much as ask me questions about him."

"That's precisely what we're here to do," smiled Enna. "Could we sit and talk with you for a few minutes?"

"Yes, of course!" He gestured to the plush sofas. "Please make yourselves at home. I'll have some tea brought down."

Esol summoned the butler, who he sent off toward the kitchen, and joined them on the sofa. Bash had sat uncomfortably close to Enna, and she couldn't help but notice that every time he shifted his arm, he bumped her elbow. Thankfully, the tea came a few minutes later, and she was able to perch her elbows on her thighs while she held the tiny cup, keeping it safe from his interference.

"What can you tell me about your son?" asked Enna.

"Ivan," started Esol. "I am ashamed to speak of him sometimes. He is unruly, often spending too much time with friends of a… certain nature. I do not approve of his nightly habits, and he knows this, and does nothing to rectify it. He often stays out much later than he should, and when he is home, I hardly see him. I feel…" He looked down at his fidgeting hands. "This is partly my fault. I have always been critical of Ivan, and we have had many arguments."

"Don't blame yourself," urged Enna softly. "We don't know the circumstances of his disappearance."

"Yes, well…" Esol sniffed loudly and took a sip of tea. "At any rate, I feel that he's been different since his mother died several years back."

"Do you know where he and his friends spent their time?" asked Bash.

Enna cast him an irritated glance.

"No, I did not speak to him much, as I said. They have come and gone from here once or twice, but I have never asked their names. Once I had spoken of my disapproval, I avoided them altogether whenever I could."

"Could we take a look around his room?" pressed Bash.

"Of course. Let me show you the way. Just leave your glasses there; I'll have them picked up later."

With that, Esol led them down a hallway, up a flight of stairs, through a sizable dining room, and then finally into Ivan's bedroom. It was modest enough for an estate such as this – a simple bed, nightstand, wardrobe, closet, and a desk were all spaced attractively inside. Enna looked around as Esol hovered by the door.

"I'll just leave you two be," he said, eyes glancing around the room with an odd sort of fear. "I'm sure you don't need an old man involved in this investigation. I'll be downstairs if you need me."

"Thank you, Esol," smiled Enna.

And he left, shutting the door behind him.

While Bash immediately began searching high and low throughout the room, running his hands along and under every surface, Enna searched for something wholly different. Starting at the bed, she scoured the pillowcase for any trace of hair but found nothing. She moved to the nightstand, and then the wardrobe without luck. When at last she searched by the desk, she noticed a small basket of trash on the floor just to the side, and close to it on the desk sat a pair of scissors. And there, on the top of the trash, were several locks of hair that Ivan had apparently decided to trim himself. She snatched them out and eyed the strands.

"Enna," came an odd tone from Bash. A knob was missing from one of the bedposts, and he held a tiny scroll unraveled in his hands.

"What is it?"

Rather than answer, he walked up to her and offered the scroll. She took it, looked over it, and her eyes grew wide.

The parchment was surprisingly heavy in her hands as she beheld a list of twelve names scrawled in messy handwriting. More disturbing was that each name was a woman's name. Most disturbing was that at the end of every line was a bloody smear of a fingerprint.

"This is bad," she whispered.

"We have to find this kid before he hurts anyone else," said Bash.

"Agreed." She nodded and handed the scroll back to him. "Hold onto this so that we can show Lord Kirin. I wonder if he has a list of missing girls that matches that one."

"One way to find out," he muttered, pocketing the scroll and replacing the knob. "But maybe let's not tell Esol about this yet."

"Agreed. We have to find out more. Make sure he doesn't bother us for a minute, and I'll see if I can find Ivan."

Bash eased toward the door and cracked it to hear better down the hall, and Enna extracted her scrying mirror from her bag and settled cross-legged onto the floor. Then she set up the mirror to lean against the wall, placed the lock of hair in front of it, and straightened her back.

She began the incantation, moving her hands in tandem with the magical words, and the lock of hair began to glow as it lifted into the air, hovering before the glass of the mirror. As she held the spell in place, she watched the mirror closely, and at last it began to shimmer and wave. An image began to form there, and she felt drawn to it, as if being pulled into the glass, and a moment later, she felt that she was in a different place altogether.

Her mind's eye soared across Agneward, rushing over the West Crescent of the city. Then as if in a dream, she appeared within a building, somewhere dark. For several moments, she could see nothing, but then the world around her began to take shape.

Before her, a young man, sickly and faded, sat on a cot. He shivered, rocking back and forth, and she could see that his clothes were frayed and tattered.

She tried to turn to the side, but the sensation was odd to say the least. While she could maneuver to see the boy from other angles, she could only seem to focus on Ivan himself. From what she could tell, the room he was in appeared empty except for the cot, and she frowned – or would have – to see iron bars forming one of the walls.

A dark figure formed on the edge of Enna's vision, some cloaked thing approaching from the hall. At first, she was reminded of the Ghost, but this creature or person was different, its movements too fluid. As it approached the bars, Ivan cringed, almost convulsing before his body stiffened and fell to the floor. The door opened, and the figure entered, a black silhouette from some nightmare that Enna was eager to forget.

The figure reached down, coming into focus as it neared Ivan. Long, spindly fingers with pointed claws reached out and grasped at Ivan's shirt, lifting him up. As its face came into focus, Enna gasped to see grayish purple, leathery skin and long, leathery tentacles where the creature's mouth should have been. Then the creature turned and left the cell, dragging Ivan along with it.

Focusing as hard as she dared, Enna forced herself to follow the thing, despite the unease in her belly. They were moving toward some kind of light source, but since she could not turn to face them, she could only make out glowing knobs of light off to the side. She thought that she could make out a desk with various flasks strewn across it, each with a different kind of liquid. From a distance, she could hear something bubbling, and as she realized that she could hear, she noticed with a startling terror that this creature had no footsteps; it hovered just above the ground.

Then some other shadow danced across the light, and a lumbering figure approached, clunking along with metallic steps as it followed the tall creature. Ivan was hoisted up onto the wall and fastened in place before the creature sat in a chair and stared at him. Though he made no sound, Ivan's face contorted in pain, and tears began to stream down his face.

With a heaving breath, Enna allowed the spell to end. Her eyes snapped open, and she was once more surrounded by light, sitting on the floor of a bedroom in the Carnations.

This creature… She hadn't recognized it. She'd heard tales from her father and others, tales of monsters that lurk in the deep places, hidden in the shadows. Surely, this creature lived underground. But what was it?

Nothing good. Of that, she was sure.

"What is it?" asked Bash behind her. "What did you see?"

"We need to talk to Lord Kirin," she breathed.


Aribis sat peacefully on his perch in his room, his mind empty except for one singular focus. The world was calm and silent, for once, and he appreciated the quiet. From what he understood, he and Sooka were the only ones in the Misfit Manor, and the world was always a bit… simpler when Bash wasn't banging around his room.

He'd attempted to contact his patron, but so far had been met with silence. Still, he knew that sometimes it was worth being a little persistent. He continued in his one-sided communication for some time until the annoying sound of the doorbell interrupted his thoughts.

Ding.

He sighed and waited.

Ding.

His eyes flitted open as he listened intently. Then a moment later, up from the stairwell floated the somewhat muted voice of Rune, one of the guards.

"Aribis? Or Sooka?" he called. "There's a… Kayl here to see you. I haven't cleared him on your list of approved guests."

Aribis sighed and flitted down to pull open his door.

"Hello?" came one final attempt from Rune.

"I'm on my way," called Aribis, shaking his head as he flew down the stairs and alighted in the entrance hall. Rune leaned against the wall lazily while Flinn and Decklinn stood barring the door, keeping Kayl from entering the manor.

"Look!" said Kayl, pointing vigorously toward Aribis. "I told ya! That's my brother."

"Aye," affirmed Aribis in a tired tone. "He's my brother. Go ahead and let him in."

Flinn and Decklinn moved aside, and Kayl stomped through the doorway, taking in the surroundings with an odd grin on his face. The three guards nodded gruffly to Aribis before heading outside and closing the door behind them.

"Oy! Magpie!" said Kayl, thumping Aribis on the shoulder. "When were you gonna tell me that this is what you're living in now?"

Aribis shrugged as he moseyed into the lounge as he said, "This is where I live now."

"Well, this is quite a setup."

The older bird seemed quite impressed with the manor, despite the fact that he had been inside it many times before now, and very little had changed since then.

"Well, since you're here…" began Aribis as he took up a perch on the back of a chair. "What are you doing here?"

Kayl took a seat and crossed his arms. Frowning, he turned to Aribis.

"Well, a couple of things. First off, I wanted to tell you that, uh… I got a letter. You probably won't like it. Well, you might. I haven't read it yet. Uh… Here ya go."

He handed over an envelope with familiar handwriting scrawled across the front, and Aribis squinted in confusion. As he took the parchment, he felt an unwarranted irritation rise within his chest as he saw his father's script.

To Aribis. From Locke.

"Like I said, I haven't opened it," added Kayl.

"Right," muttered Aribis. "I doubt that."

Indeed, he turned over the envelope to find that it had already been ripped open, and Aribis raised an eyebrow at Kayl, who had suddenly become quite fascinated with the feathers along his right arm. Shaking his head, Aribis pulled out the letter and began reading.

Aribis,

You can imagine my surprise when I read that your contract was bought out from the Mireguard. I can't deny that this was met with some disappointment, as when we last had words, you promised me that you would stick with it. But Kayl has let me know what it is you've done recently. If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to come and see you, and tell you in person how proud I am of what you've done.

Father

Aribis sighed and stuffed the letter back in the envelope. How long had it been since he'd seen his father? He didn't care to count.

"Like I said, not that bad!" cheered Kayl.

"Basically, what he's saying," began Aribis, "is that he wants to come and yell at me in person. And then he'll tell me, 'Oh, I'm proud of you!'" He huffed and tossed the letter onto the chair before him. "He's never been proud of me a day in his life."

Shaking his head, Aribis stared at the letter. But then, what did it matter? Locke could do as he pleased.

Kayl paused, eyeing Aribis carefully before he said, "Look, brother, I don't want to tell you how to deal with Dad. But he's coming either way."

"Then let him come," shrugged Aribis. "I'll stay here, and he can stay out there."

"I, uh… already told him where ya live."

"You're such a wonderful brother. Ya know that?"

"Yeah," nodded Kayl. Then after a pause, he continued, "Me and Freya… We talk about this quite often. We both have hope that maybe things between you and Father will clear up a little bit. I mean, one of you has got to give about this. One of you has to. If it's not you, and it's not him, who's it going to be?"

"Neither of us! And then we can just go our separate ways and never have to deal with it ever again."

Kayl nodded, looking down for a moment.

"Well…" He sighed. "You want me here, too?"

"If I have to deal with that stubborn old man, then yes," said Aribis. "You're going to have to deal with him with me."

"That's a good idea. He likes me. Actually… he… he likes Freya."

"Eh… I don't think he actually likes anybody."

"You can't deny, he likes Mum."

"There's a difference between love and like."

"When did you get so wise?" asked Kayl with the smallest hint of pride in his voice.

"I always have been," chuckled Aribis. "You just haven't listened." He paused, recalling an earlier conversation with the others. "Anyway, while you're here – and thank you again for such wonderful news – do you want a job?"

Kayl's eyebrows flew up in surprise, and he shook his head as if that would help him process the question.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…" he said. "You're offering me a job? You… are offering me… a job?"

"More like… the group is offering you a job." Aribis gestured to the rest of the manor.

"What kind of job is it?"

"We need someone to organize all these ruffians." This time he pointed toward the door.

"Oh, them? The ones that stopped me at the door?"

"Aye."

"What's the pay?"

"That's a really good question… How much do you make working for the Mireguard?"

"Uh, about… five silver a day?"

Aribis nearly laughed. He'd been in the Mireguard, too, and he knew right well that someone of Kayl's rank would make only three.

"Five silver a day, huh? You want to rethink that answer, brother?"

"Alright, fine," admitted Kayl. "I make three silver a day. You happy? Can't afford this kind of place, obviously."

"So that averages to…" Aribis began performing calculations.

"The problem is, as you seem to have forgotten about, is that I still have a contract with the Mireguard," Kayl pointed out. "That's about a hundred gold a year."

"And how much to buy out your contract again?"

Leaning back and placing his feet on the coffee table, Kayl began counting on his claws and muttering to himself. At long last, he said, "A hundred fifty gold. But then… Father wouldn't be very happy." His statement seemed to lift his spirits, and a grin spread across his face. "Let's do it. Do you have a hundred fifty gold? I don't have it." He chuckled.

"The way I see it, you make a hundred twenty gold a year."

"But, I'd have to call you boss."

"No, no, no." Aribis shook his head. "You're currently making a hundred twenty a year."

"… Right."

"Would you consider a little bit of a pay bump?"

"We're talking a pay bump in the upward direction, right?" Kayl pointed toward the ceiling.

Aribis blinked. "Aye," he said slowly.

"Are you sure this is something you want to do, brother? I won't lie, it sounds awesome."

"Me, personally? No, I think it's a terrible idea. But I see the logic behind it."

Kayl narrowed his eyes slightly. "Would I have to call you 'boss'?"

"Would it get under your skin?"

Kayl nodded.

"Then yes."

Kayl sighed, then said, "What do you mean by a pay bump?"

"You'd make a hundred forty a year."

"Make it an even two hundred gold, and you have a deal."

"One-eighty."

"Done."


As William passed into the Dandelions, he felt that he was prepared for whatever it was he might find there. He had been to this district before with the others, several times, and he was proud to have made it this far without Bash or Sooka to guide him. As he followed the directions of the men from the market, his mind was focused solely on the missing boy. Who knew what fate had befallen him? What kind of torture was he experiencing at that moment? William was determined to find out.

Eventually, he came to the Nightingale. It was surprisingly large, almost a complex sprawling across two buildings, and many people streamed in and out the front door. The entire building was painted a bright red, standing out even more than William could have imagined, and the faint trails of harps and incense followed the patrons out to meet him in the street. This was a seedy part of town, even compared to the rest of the Dandelions, and there appeared to be many abandoned buildings about the place. Windows and doors were boarded up, beggars roamed the streets, and anyone else in the area seemed to be headed directly for this unsavory location.

Unfazed, William entered the brothel, passing by two muscular men who seemed to be guarding the entrance. They paid him no mind.

He paused just inside, taking in the scene around him. Everything was draped in red silks, and purple candles were alight on nearly every surface. Even the luscious women followed this red and purple color scheme with their attire, revealing dresses sweeping across the floor as they walked around to entertain customers. There were no chairs or benches, only cushions resting on the floor next to low tables.

Within moments of his arrival, an attractive half-elf woman appeared before him, placed a hand on his shoulder, and leaned forward slightly.

"Can I help you, darling?" she asked slowly.

"Who is the owner of this establishment?" asked William flatly.

"Oh," dismissed the girl, inching closer. "Whatever it is you need, I can help you with it."

"Are you the owner of this establishment?"

"No, but I know enough to help." She winked.

Pursing his lips, he said, "I am looking for a boy named Ivan. I hear he comes here often."

At this, the girl's face fell, and she narrowed her eyes slightly. "Oh, are you friends with him?"

"More like I'm curious about him."

She sighed. "You want to talk to the owner? That would be Sigrid." She turned and called, "Sigrid!"

Not bothering to wait for Sigrid to show, the girl walked off to find some other prize.

"Thank you," said William, though she didn't seem to have heard.

A tiefling woman then approached him, her reddish skin blending in with the décor while her black hair created a stark contrast. Her tail whipped about in mild irritation as she faced him.

"Yes, what can I do for you?" she asked as though he had torn her from a most enticing meal. "I am Sigrid. What is it that you are looking for, dear?"

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm looking for a boy named Ivan," explained William.

"Oh, Ivan… He is a regular here. Are you one of his friends?"

"He's gone missing, and I'm looking for him."

Sigrid scoffed. "Part of me wants to say, 'Good riddance.' But yes, he was here a week or so ago, I'd say. Hannah was the one who spoke with him."

She turned and snapped, drawing the attention of several women. Gesturing toward a young blonde human, Sigrid summoned the girl named Hannah, who approached with limited curiosity.

"Yes, Sigrid?" she asked cautiously, eyeing William, her eyes lingering on his crossed arms.

"This boy has some questions for you," explained Sigrid. "If you need me, I'll be over there."

She pointed toward the back and sauntered off, her hips swaying dramatically as she walked.

"What is it you need?" asked Hannah.

"I am here to get information about Ivan."

She narrowed her eyes but invited him toward a table, and William sat with his legs crossed on a silky purple cushion. Two other women moved toward him, but Hannah shook her head slightly at them, and they frowned and went their way.

Sighing, Hannah began.

"Ivan was here a couple weeks ago. He asked me to get a drink with him, and I agreed. We left. We walked maybe a couple blocks that way—" she gestured south "—and then he just went home instead."

"Did he say anything odd to you?"

Hannah shrugged. "Not really. Everybody thinks he's creepy, but I've never gotten that vibe from him."

"Is there anything specifically that he says or does that would upset people? Make enemies?"

"He just has an air about him that people are generally uncomfortable with. But like I said, he didn't bother me like he bothered everyone else."

"Did you ever get the feeling that he had ulterior motives when he spent time with you?"

Winking, Hannah brushed William's knee with her hand.

"Oh, everyone here has ulterior motives," she said.

"I mean, besides sex."

She huffed and withdrew her hand. "I wouldn't know. I've only known him for a little while."

"Are there any other places he mentioned going to frequently?"

"No, I don't know him that well." Her voice revealed mild irritation. "All I know is that whenever he came here, he'd always request to see me."

"And what is it about you that made him single you out like that?"

"Oh, my appearance, of course," laughed Hannah as she fluffed her hair. When William did not respond, she frowned. "Why all the questions?"

"Ivan is missing, and his father is worried about him."

Sighing once more, she said, "Well, I hope you find him."

She stood, and William followed suit.

"Is there anything else you can offer?" he asked.

She shrugged. "The last I knew of him, we were maybe two blocks down the street when he left me to go home. That's all I know."

"Thank you for your time," replied William, bowing his head before heading for the exit.

He paused just outside the Nightingale, suddenly thankful for the cloak around his shoulders; the approach of winter had provided a chill as the sun began to hide itself below the horizon. And as William looked around in hopes that there would be something else – a bar, another brothel, even a shop – anything nearby, he found only sadness and the decrepit loneliness of the poorest district in Agneward.

Groups of men and a few women stumbled toward the Nightingale from several directions, none of them willing to give William so much as a courteous nod. One man drew a knife, threatening William to back off for merely looking in his direction.

With sadness in his heart, William turned south and began following the meager trail that Hannah had left for him. He wandered for some time, waiting for a suspicious building to appear, when he suddenly realized something.

Stopping in his tracks, he looked up and down the street, working out as good a map of Agneward as he could muster. He may not have known all the alleys and secret paths, or even side streets, but he knew which direction he'd come from.

Hannah had said that Ivan had gone home, but a noble's son would live closer to the Circle.

"He didn't go home," muttered William. He shook his head, realizing that he would get nowhere by himself. "I should get back and tell the others." Perhaps they would be willing to lend a hand.


Back in the Bastion's Crest, Bash watched Enna's expression as it flashed between wrath and empathy. Kirin's page, a young, innocent, human boy with wide eyes, stood as a barrier between them and the most important person who could help them with their issue. Where he had been eager to see them earlier, it now appeared that he was brushing them off.

"There is a dangerous creature lurking within the city!" insisted Enna. "It is currently torturing someone. Who's to say that it won't take another person soon?"

"I'm terribly sorry, ma'am," squeaked the page. "Lord Kirin will be in and out of meetings all day, I'm afraid. I have a form you could fill out, if that would please you."

"We only need a minute of his time! He can't give us a minute?"

The boy chuckled and fiddled with his fingernails. "You're, uh… putting me in a weird position…"

"Can't you just go tell him that the heroes of Agneward need to talk to him?" asked Bash.

"Uh…" The boy glanced back and forth between them, warring with himself. "Okay." Then he scampered off into the room behind him.

Enna and Bash waited for several minutes, pacing up and down the hallway. When the boy returned, he opened the door and stared at the ground.

"Lord Kirin says that he trusts your judgment to do whatever you need to do to handle the situation," he said quietly.

Enna threw out a heavy sigh and rubbed her forehead.

"I'm sorry," whispered the page.

"I'm not mad at you," assured Enna. "You're just doing your job."

"I am a little bit," muttered Bash.

"I'm terribly sorry, sir," returned the page, eyes downcast.

Turning to Enna, Bash lowered his voice and said, "Let's just go kill it ourselves."

"How do we even find it?" she countered, not bothering to speak in such low tones. "It's probably somewhere deep in the Well, hiding far away. Maybe somewhere you've never even been."

Bash sighed.

"Just… give me a form," said Enna, holding out her hand to the page.

The boy spun around and checked through the many papers attached to the door before he finally snagged one, snatched a clipboard, and handed them to Enna. As Enna began to scribble across it, Bash peered over her shoulder.

The form was surprisingly detailed. At the top it asked for a name of the reporter, where Enna had put "The Natural Misfits." Below it was a section for a title of the creature ("unknown"), where it was sighted ("through scrying"), what district ("unknown"), and a description ("tentacle monster from the deep that has some kind of telepathic powers and can torture from a distance"). At the bottom was a large space allotted to a drawing of the reported creature, and Bash was somewhat impressed to see what Enna was able to produce in a short time.

The drawing looked exactly like her description, and something about it tickled the back of his mind. He wasn't sure he'd ever really seen one of these things before, but perhaps over his long years, he'd heard some vague description. In any event, all he knew was that the Well was indeed home to all sorts of dark creatures. Ever since his arrival in Agneward three centuries ago, he'd heard stories of disappearances, horrible endings for people who delved too deeply into the maze of tunnels. Nobody quite knew what all was down there, and Bash had been content to avoid an investigation to learn more about it. He hoped that this venture wouldn't really send them down that far.

Upon completion of the form, Enna flipped the page over and added a short message: We found this scroll in Ivan's room. It may assist you in some missing persons cases.

She held out her hand, and Bash placed the scroll in it. Then she handed them both over to the boy.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said, nodding.

"For your trouble," said Bash, flipping him a gold coin.

"Wow!" exclaimed the page. "Thank you, sir!" Then he retreated into the room once again.

"What do we do now?" asked Enna, shoulders slumped.

"We need to know what it is we're dealing with," offered Bash.

"You're right. Maybe Ewyn can help us."

"Ewyn?"

"Yes, let's go to the library. The Cabinet of Curiosities is on the way anyway, and I wanted to stop by there and see… what Raven has to offer these days."


When they arrived at the Cabinet of Curiosities, they found that it had been boarded up and closed for some time. While asking around about the matter, the two were able to glean that Raven had been found dead inside the shop a few days prior. Whispers spoke of a break-in and torture, but nothing had been stolen. Curious, people thought, considering how many stout magical protections Raven had in place to protect himself and his items.

While this deeply troubled Bash and Enna, they could not take the time to fully investigate. Instead, they continued on to the Library of Illumination, where they found Lady Ewyn. After a short conversation of descriptors, she was able to point them to a small glossary of dark creatures, wherein they found the title that they sought: the creature who had taken Ivan was a mind flayer.

The name alone sent shivers down Bash's spine. The telepathic abilities that Enna had described now made sense, and the book's description of mind flayers devouring brains sent the pair into a spiraling frenzy of terror. Bash could now recall one of the stories he had heard from long ago, when someone had purposed to find the bottom of the Well. Several weeks later, the man's body had been found, his head nothing but an empty shell with a hole in the back.

Within an hour or two, they arrived back at Misfit Manor to find everyone else waiting for them. William communicated his findings within the Nightingale, and Enna revealed what she and Bash had found in Ivan's room, what she had seen while scrying, and then what they had found at the library. When Bash added the flavor of eaten brains, Sooka shivered in her chair.

"We should go now to find Ivan before anything worse happens to him," said William.

"I don't… know about that," replied Enna.

"What are you waiting for?" His tone was piercingly direct.

"We don't know what we're up against. Not really. What if something bad happens? What if someone dies again? I can't handle that."

"There's no time to waste," insisted William, a hint of anger behind his voice.

"We can't rush in blind!"

After working his jaw for a moment, William stood.

"Come get me when you've made a decision," he said gruffly before walking toward the stairs.

Sooka leapt from her seat and snagged William's arm, forcing him to turn and look at her.

"Library," she said. "Research" "mind flayer" "together."

"Thank you for your concern, Sooka," replied William softly. "But not this time."

Then he marched upstairs, leaving Sooka concerned and saddened as she reclaimed her seat.

With a huff, Enna stood and began pacing.

"We can't just charge headfirst into the Well," she thought aloud with an irritated glance toward the stairs. "That would lead nowhere good. Maybe I could use a spell? Like what I used to find Rustler?"

"It would be worth a shot," offered Bash.

"But what if the spell just points down, and I can't figure anything out? If the mind flayer is a thousand feet below the city, how will that help?"

Bash turned to Aribis for help, but the little bird just shrugged.

"What do you want to do?" he asked Enna.

With another sigh, she fell onto the sofa, head in her hands.

Bash frowned. This wasn't like Enna. Again, he saw the crack in whatever weak front she had been putting up for the past couple weeks. She hadn't spoken to anyone about it, he was sure, and now she was reaching a boiling point. She'd been short all day. And William… Bash wasn't sure he'd ever seen William rightfully angry before.

What was happening to them?

"I'm just going to go ride around the city and see if I can find anything," said Enna suddenly, standing and walking out the door.

"Wait up!" called Bash, and he jogged after her.

He followed her to the stables, where she quickly and silently released Prince, who bounced with joy to see her. She smiled at his reaction, and Bash was pleased to see it, but as he pulled Racer from his stall, Enna was back to her somber attitude. She didn't acknowledge him as she left the stables and directed Prince onto the main street.

"Where are we headed?" pressed Bash, eyeing her carefully.

"The West Crescent of the Dandelions," she replied before trotting off in that direction.

When they finally arrived, Enna leapt off Prince, handed Bash the reins, and began the incantation of a spell. After it had been cast, she was enveloped by a swirl of powerful wind, enough for Bash to throw up a hand to protect his eyes, and then she flew up into the air and disappeared from his sight.

For several moments, he sat there, watching the skies. She had utterly vanished, and part of him felt a little sad. Her distance was straining him, but just as surely as he couldn't take off and follow her, he couldn't seem to close the gap between them. So, he sat, waiting.

A half hour later, she returned, a nearly invisible torrent of gusts that alighted before him, spooking the horses that began to whinny and skitter. Bash held them firmly in place, muttering soothing sounds as the elemental turned back into an elf and approached, swinging herself up onto Prince.

"What did you find?" asked Bash.

"He's near the Nightingale, just a couple blocks down."

"So almost exactly where William was investigating."

Enna nodded. "I think so." She reached in her pack and snatched a sending stone, held it close to her mouth, and said, "I can sense Ivan in some houses by the Nightingale. William was on the right track. Meet us there."

They rode to the Nightingale together and only had to wait another half hour or so before everyone else arrived. William sauntered up out of the darkness of the street, Sooka arrived from the other direction, and Aribis flitted down to land next to the horses that Bash and Enna had tucked into an alleyway to keep out of sight.

"So, you decided to come after all?" said Aribis toward William, his tone accusatory.

"Yes," nodded the monk.

"Why didn't ye answer the door when I knocked?"

"I wasn't there."

"Ivan is in there," redirected Enna, nodding toward a ramshackle building just down the street.

"And what do we want to do about that?" muttered Bash.

"Look," noted Aribis, nodding down the street.

The group turned and watched as several young men, dressed in oddly fine clothes for the Dandelions, approached. They muttered among themselves excitedly and glanced around at the buildings. One of them reached into his pocket and withdrew a piece of paper.

"They're looking for something specific," said Aribis as he peered through the darkness to read their lips. "That paper has an address on it. Number seven, Nightshade Avenue."

"That's right about where we are," acknowledged Bash.

"They're excited about wherever it is they're going," added Aribis.

The men stopped and looked up and down the street, searching for any onlookers, and the Misfits all huddled into the shadows of the alley to avoid their gaze. Seemingly satisfied, they marched up number seven, Nightshade Avenue, ascended the short steps to the threshold, and then disappeared.

"That was unexpected," muttered Bash with an eyebrow raised.

Sooka began speaking quietly, and Bash looked over to see her casting some sort of spell, and when she was finished, she cocked her head to the side.

"That was unexpected," she said.

Then scribbling in her book, she wrote, There's an illusion over the building. It's called Kazax' Extraordinary Enchantments.

"What?" laughed Bash.

"A magic shop…?" said Enna.

"I've never heard that name before," added Bash.

The group crossed the street, watching the building carefully, and paused just before it. William climbed up the steps with his arm outstretched, waiting to encounter the illusion, and Sooka soon joined him. Then simultaneously, their hands encountered some kind of wavering image that buckled and shimmered, and they stepped into the illusion and disappeared.

Sighing, Bash turned to Enna and Aribis and gestured forward. He watched as they, too, became enveloped in the magic before he pushed forward onto the landing himself.

He gasped and then chuckled to see the building for what it was. Two stories towered above them, every available space decorated with garish ornaments, banners, draperies, and magical fairy lights. At the top was a horrid, glowing sign that said, as Sooka had indicated, "Kazax' Extraordinary Enchantments."

Enna and Aribis both cast spells, and Enna pointed toward the floor before them.

"He's down there," she whispered.

William stepped closer to the purple door, and as he approached, the gold trim at the top shimmered and formed letters reading, "Password?"

"Uh…" said William.

The words shifted once again to read, "Time's ticking."

"Are my teeth shiny?" he said, clearly unsure of what he was to do here.

The letters shifted again and read, "? I don't know. Do you need a toothbrush?"

"A little rude for a door, don't you think?" remarked William.

Bash and Aribis chuckled at the response.

"Try, 'password,'" called Aribis.

And to their great surprise, the door swung open, and after a moment of collecting themselves, the group walked in.

With wide eyes, they gazed around them, taking in the bizarre scene. Everywhere they looked, there were shelves full of odd trinkets, all clearly magical, all with price tags. The sheer number of objects nearly overwhelmed Bash to see, and he wondered how he had never heard of this place before.

The three patrons who had entered before them glanced at them as they walked in, but they quickly returned to observing the items before them: teapots with clocks on one side.

Before they could begin looking at the items in detail, a red-haired elf man in clothing as horrid as his decorations – presumably Kazax – approached them from the side and bowed deeply. As he righted himself, Bash was taken aback by the strikingly white eyes that stared at them with anticipation and apparent hospitality.

"You have quite a bit of stuff here," observed Aribis. "Congratulations."

Rather than replying, the man wrote in the air with his finger, and golden letters formed the word indeed.

Is there anything that you are looking for? Kazax added.

Sooka shuffled forward and wrote in her book before holding it up for the man to read.

Can you not speak? she asked.

Unfortunately, my vocal cords were ripped out by wolves, replied Kazax.

Bash's eyes fell to the cravat that was draped about his neck, hiding whatever scars might have been visible to confirm his story.

"Are you Kazax?" asked Enna.

Yes, he wrote. Is there anything curious you're looking for? Perhaps a curse for an enemy? A gift for a lover? A party favor?

"Are there any books?" asked William.

Not that kind of place.

"I had heard that this was an interesting place," said Enna. "How long has it been here?"

Oh, I move it around occasionally. I've been in the city about fifty years.

Aribis shifted slightly, and Bash turned to see him shuffling closer to Sooka but looking straight at him. As soon as their eyes met, Aribis put his hand under his chin, wiggling his fingers about, clearly trying to communicate… something.

As it was, it took all Bash's strength to keep from bursting out in laughter at the comical sight.

But before he could try to discern what exactly Aribis was trying to say, Kazax snagged his attention again.

The elf had frozen in place just as he was writing out the word years, and his eyes focused directly on Sooka. He frowned, almost angry, as he raised his hand and snapped once.

Bash jumped as every single cabinet and door around them suddenly slammed shut. Kazax flicked his finger, and a disembodied voice rang out across the shop.

"I'm sorry," it said. "We're closed! Please leave the premises immediately."

"Aw, man," complained one of the other patrons across the room.

Then a dresser – an actual piece of furniture – marched over to them, picked up all three humans, and shoved them out the door, which then slammed behind them.

Bash's heart thudded loudly in his chest as an eerie silence overtook the shop. He glanced at Enna, who seemed equally bewildered, and then turned to Kazax.

A voice entered Bash's mind, and he jumped again to hear it. But there was no mistake; nothing was being uttered by anyone in the room. The voice – some distant, alien version of his own thoughts – reverberated in Bash's brain, not his ears. From the reactions of his companions, it appeared that they could all hear it, too. Most odd was that the words were less spoken, and more discerned. The meaning itself was planted in Bash's mind, and the subtle emotions and intentions of Kazax bled through along with it.

"Oh, I have paid many nosy people more pain than you can imagine. I suggest you keep this information to yourselves." Intimidation. Irritation.

Bash glanced around. Sooka must have read Kazax' mind, he surmised. Was his elf-like appearance another illusion, perhaps?

"You have someone I'm looking for," warned Enna.

"Where is Ivan?" demanded William.

Kazax sighed… mentally.

"Always the do-gooders… Always…" he said. "Trust me. He is much better off where he is. I wouldn't look further if I were you."

"That's not for you to judge," replied William.

"Is he really better off?" challenged Enna.

"The boy is very sick in the mind. It is not worth your attention." Insistence.

"Because you made him that way."

"I made him nothing! I merely knew what he was and removed him from society." Frustration.

"Why would you do that?" asked Aribis.

Kazax flipped his fingers once more, and the magical disguise fell away, revealing what could only be a mind flayer. It was tall, taller than any of the Misfits, with purplish, leathery skin and tentacles protruding in place of a mouth. Suddenly Aribis's code made sense; he must have been able to sense its presence from the beginning. Bash recalled the spell he'd cast on the way in.

"If you know about my true nature, you will know that I must eat occasionally."

"Then why keep the boy?" asked Aribis. "Why is he alive?"

"Why torture him?" added William.

"Snack later."

"Why would you torture him?" demanded William again.

"I don't owe you this many answers! If you value your lives, leave this where it is."

"I've seen what you do to him," said Enna quietly.

"You've seen nothing. This is the first we've met."

"You're torturing him down there."

"You want to know what he did?"

"Yes. Yes, I do." Enna nodded, her eyes fierce.

"I doubt it…"

"Ah!" cried Enna suddenly, her hand flying to her temple. She took a step back, then another, covering her face with her hands and shaking her head violently.

"What is it?" asked Bash, taking a step toward her, but she paid him no mind.

Slowly, panting lightly, she lowered her hands, her green eyes swirling with a mixture of disgust, remorse, and fear. She watched the mind flayer carefully even as she wept. Her shoulders trembled.

"That is only a little snippet of what that trash did. Now, leave him to the fate he deserves."

"Is that the only kind of person that you take?" asked Enna, her breath still shallow.

"I think our questions are over. Now leave!"

The dresser in the corner, which Bash had nearly forgotten about, took a step toward them.

"Wait. I think… we can reach an understanding," said Enna.

"I'm listening." Curiosity. Trepidation.

"Is that the only kind of person you take?" she repeated.

The eyes of the mind flayer, alien as they seemed, appeared to bore into Enna as he struggled to discern her intention. As he watched, Bash fought to understand what could have been so horrible that Enna had reacted as she did. Ivan must have done horrible things to those girls. Perhaps this mind flayer was not as inherently evil as they had assumed. Perhaps he was doing the same kind of thing that Bash used to do for a living. Just a… creepier version.

With a flair, Sooka held up her book, which now shone with new script.

I'm an outcast, too, it read. Maybe we can help each other.

Silence pierced the room deeply, and Kazax turned to Sooka. Bash supposed that he was speaking to her telepathically, only this time, nobody else was invited into the conversation. His assumption was proven correct, as a moment later, she held up her book again.

They're not my family, she said.

Bash glanced around at the others. They seemed enraptured with the one-sided dialogue, far too much to worry about the implications of such a statement. Surely… Sooka didn't mean them… did she? After everything…

Another pause, and then Kazax moved closer to Sooka, gliding just above the floor. At this simple motion, William and Aribis moved to stand before him, but Sooka pushed them gently aside and approached the mind flayer with kind, gentle eyes.

"Very protective," chuckled Kazax universally.

Then he bent down and leveled his eyes with Sooka, a sight that made Bash's skin crawl. He couldn't imagine being that close to that ugly, tentacled face, and he was glad that Sooka was able to respond so well to it. Then he stood once again, glanced purposefully to Aribis and William, and floated back to where he had been standing.

"Perhaps we could help each other," concluded Kazax, looking back and forth between Enna and Sooka.

"You're cleaning the city up in your own way," nodded Enna.

"… Sort of. I will tell you a story, if you'll hear me."

A powerful feeling of loneliness swept over Bash, seeping through his telepathic link with Kazax. All at once, emotions that he had left buried for centuries washed over him. He felt as though he was a younger version of himself, holed up in his childhood bedroom, the door locked while he cried into his pillow. For just a moment, he feared that he would break down right there in this odd little magic shop, free for all to see. He hated that part of his life. He hated that part of himself.

But then the emotion was pulled from him, as if a heavy blanket had been lifted from his heart. As Kazax withdrew the accidental feeling, Bash felt that he could breathe once again, and he glanced around to see if the others had also been affected.

Before he could complete his assessment, Kazax flicked his fingers, and a table with a full dining set appeared in the room. One of the odd clock-teapots began whistling while the clock wound, and it lifted into the air and began pouring tea into tiny teacups. Another flick of his hand, and chairs appeared behind each of them before scooting forward, forcing each of them to collapse into them, and they were all pushed up against the table.

"Have some tea," encouraged Kazax happily. "I promise it's not poisoned." Then he laughed in their minds, his joy at having company bleeding into them.

Bash, Enna, and Sooka happily partook, and Bash was pleased to find that Kazax made some delicious oolong. As it sauntered down into his stomach, he felt delightfully smug.

A ridiculous throne of a chair slid into the room as Kazax floated toward the table, and it came to catch him gracefully as he sat at the head of the table.

"Are you lonely?" asked William, arms crossed.

"Ah, loneliness…" began Kazax. "It's difficult for one of my kind to express and you to understand."

"I understand more than you know."

"I doubt it. I was shunned from my people, and then I found my way to the surface. I hated who I was. I hated what I am. And I sought a different path. Using my gifts to the best of my ability, I fashioned a different life." He waved his hand, and several of the trinkets about the shop began to offer themselves for their inspection. "Many of these were my inventions."

A wand flitted over to Kazax, the end of it fashioned to look like a hand pointing, and Kazax aimed it at William. A moment later, William began to laugh – a deep, bellowing sound that issued from his belly. With amazement, everyone turned to him, and Bash felt inclined to join in. Despite its forced nature, he felt joy to see joy within William.

"A wand of laughter," explained Kazax. Then the wand took its place on the shelf once again. "I wish not to hurt anyone, but I also am cursed for what I am. I have sought means to change this, but the answer eludes me… So, I do the best I can."

"You seem to be doing pretty well for yourself," shrugged Aribis as he gazed around at all the trinkets.

Sooka let out a tiny squawk, and Bash was startled to find tears springing out of her eyes as she ran around the table to Kazax, embracing him tightly and kissing his cheek. Then she cupped his face with her hands, staring deep into his eyes, and said, "Me, too, Sooka."

"I feel we are kindred spirits," replied Kazax, placing a hand on Sooka's shoulder. Bash imagined that he would be smiling if he'd had a mouth. Then he turned to the others and said, "Perhaps proper introductions are in order. I am Kazax the Enchanter, at your service." He bowed his head slightly and gestured with his hand.

"Enna," replied Enna quietly.

"Sebastian," said Bash.

"I am William Epshire," nodded William.

"Don't laugh too hard, William," laughed Kazax, eliciting chuckles around the table, but William merely looked down at his hands. "We have quite an avian group," added the mind flayer, looking between Sooka and Aribis.

"Aye, a couple of us are birds," said Aribis.

Kazax laughed.

"Aribis, by the way."

"Indeed. And you, my dear?" He turned to Sooka.

"Sooka," she replied.

"It is a strange world where friends are made so quickly."

Sooka wrote in her book: Ironic that with the curse of my body, this kindred spirit friend is the one voice that I can't repeat.

"Having no voice is a difficult thing," replied Kazax. "But I have learned to make myself heard one way or another. Now, my friends, if that is what we call ourselves… If you agree to not mention what I do or am, we perhaps have struck a bargain."

"If you can answer the question that Enna asked a while ago," said Aribis.

"I hate what I am, but like everything, I must eat. And yes, I try to be very, very picky with my food. I try to find those who society would shun beyond redemption."

"We've seen Ivan's list of names," affirmed Enna. "We had an idea about him."

"A truly despicable person. To answer your earlier question," he said to William, "I like to make him feel fear. It adds… pepper."

Bash pondered this idea, thinking back on his many contracts over the years. He had killed a great number of people, and most of them had been the scum of the city – detestable things, joying in others' pain, always on the lookout for opportunities to serve themselves. Several serial killers had been brought to justice by his hand, and he considered that having a garbage disposal system for the city might not be so bad.

"I think, for all intents and purposes, Ivan's dead," said Enna. "He soon will be, anyway."

"I only must eat once a great many moons, and most of my time not spent in here is finding my next meal. I have managed to stay quiet for some time. I would hate to have to break our agreement. I hope you understand."

A few low-lifes a year, considered Bash. I could pull that off. Two birds with one stone.

"Are most of your magic items just trinkets?" asked Enna.

"Indeed, they bring me pleasure."

Kazax pointed at the wall where a wooden mouse lifted into the air and hovered before Enna.

"Push the button," encouraged Kazax.

Cautiously, Enna reached up and tapped the mouse's head, and the mouse opened, revealing a tiny musical organ.

"This is my mousetrap!"

"I think it would be sad if this shop was gone," smiled Enna.

"Oh! Over here!"

And so began a game of show-and-tell where the eager Kazax delighted himself in displaying several of his goods to the Misfits. From cups that grew Aribis's eyebrows to an uncomfortable length to a cloak that billowed dramatically at the slightest movement of the wearer, from a bag that always seemed to be a little too small to hold its contents to an amulet that forced the wearer to speak in third person, item after item entertained the group to behold.

"So… everything in this shop is just a joke," observed Aribis. "It's a joke shop!"

Kazax nodded.

"That's adorable."

"I am not adorable!" replied Kazax forcefully. "I am one of the most feared creatures that you've ever discovered!"

"You don't have to be one or the other," inserted Enna. "You can be both!"

"You're an adorable, feared creature!" confirmed Aribis.

Over the next hour or so, the Misfits entertained themselves with discussion with Kazax. From Bash's perspective, Kazax was a perfectly delightful person, as long as he could ignore his physical appearance. Not only did Kazax seem happy to entertain, he also offered to purchase any magical items they might find on their travels.

This prompted Aribis to offer the Ghost's rapier. When he brought it out, a chill fell over the room, and Bash could swear that Enna shivered. Still, Kazax seemed interested and offered to buy it for two thousand gold pieces.

Aribis agreed, and each of them felt a little better as Kazax magically dismissed the item to store it out of their view. Then he measured out two hundred platinum to Aribis, half of which the bird man slid across the table to Enna.

Later, Kazax offered to allow them to peruse the shop, and the group spread out to see what kinds of trinkets the mind flayer had to offer. In the end, there was enormous variety in the available enchantments. Bash discovered a sword that would always appear in the owner's hand whenever they crossed a threshold of any kind, a hideous bowler hat that made other people point and snicker at the wearer, and a rock that would always reappear in the pocket of the thrower no matter how far it was thrown.

As they investigated, many rounds of laughter ran across the Misfits, and Bash was pleased to see Enna more relaxed and happier than she had been in quite some time. They even had several discussions about how these items could help them during various jobs around the city. In time, however, she drifted over to Kazax and began speaking in low tones that Bash couldn't quite make out, and after a while, he became convinced that they were communicating telepathically. In the end, she ended up exchanging a sum of gold for an object that she kept hidden from view, and Bash frowned.

Before they left, Aribis, Bash, and Enna had each purchased an item: a wand of laughing, a wand of sneezing, and a wand of pointing, respectively. They left Kazax' Extraordinary Enchantments cheerier than when they'd arrived, although Bash couldn't help but notice a shadow fall over Enna as soon as they emerged into the Dandelions.

On the way back, the group discussed possible explanations to offer Lord Kirin for the disappearance of Ivan. Finally, they concluded that it would be better to explain that Ivan was dead and that the trail of the mind flayer was nothing more than a red herring. They each wanted to protect Kazax, at least to a point, and Bash warned of the harsh consequences Kazax would endure should he be found out by the Silverspire Mages. Even if he could hide his identity as a mind flayer, any magical item that had not been approved by the Mages would be confiscated, and Kazax would then be imprisoned.

More than anyone else, Sooka seemed overjoyed with their interaction. She expressed her eagerness to visit him in the future and work on spells.

Still, Bash's thoughts focused on Enna on their return to the Circle. His mind lingered on the vision that Kazax had offered her – what she had explained as "a vision of Ivan torturing his victims." Still, judging by her expression at the revelation, Bash knew that it had been a worse experience than what she had described. And yet, she remained stone-faced when he asked about it.


On their arrival at the Misfit Manor, late as it was, the group dispersed to their rooms – Enna escaping to the back yard for a time – and muttered good night to each other before moving into isolation.

With a sigh, Bash sat at his desk, head in his hands. He stared at the finished wood for several minutes before snatching a tiny piece of parchment, dipping his pen into some ink, and writing.

Enna,

I know that we used to be close, and that's all different now. I know that at least part of that is my fault. But I can't sit and watch you suffer in silence. I know this has been hard on you, and I've been feeling it, too. There was a lot said… and things didn't go how you wanted them to.

I also know that you've been dealing with a lot more than just me.

I'm not who I need to be yet, and I don't know how to fix that. But I do know that I can help you. We used to talk about things, and I want to get back to that place.

I can't promise what you really want, but I can offer you an ear. If you ever need to talk, I'm just a hallway away.

Bash

For several long minutes, he stared at the words. He wasn't sure why he was hesitating, but in the end, he knew that he wanted to help her, if only she would be willing to ask for it. So, he folded the paper delicately, walked across the hall, and slipped it through the curtain of vines that she had fashioned for a door. Then he returned to his room and waited.

Time passed slowly for the next thirty minutes as he tried to focus on a book while sitting in his armchair. Every few minutes, he would cast a glance at his clock, admire the beautiful contrast of its gold trim against the maroon wall, look back at his book without noticing the placement of the hands, and then glance at the clock again to read the time. Every time, only a minute or so had passed.

Finally, he jumped as he heard a soft knock on the door. Then he cast his book aside and leapt up, opening the door as casually as he could manage.

There Enna stood, the faint glimmer of a tear on her cheek, the letter still clasped in her hand.

"Hey," he said warmly.

Lip quivering, she raised the letter and whispered, "Can… can we talk now?"

"Yeah, of course."

Swinging the door open, he gestured for her to enter. She did so slowly, and he shut the door before taking a seat on the foot of his bed. While he expected her to sit in his nice armchair, she opted instead for the floor, where she sat with her legs crossed about five feet away from him. Then she slowly and carefully folded up the letter, her mind clearly working on what she would say first. When the page was folded at last, she pocketed it, pulled her knees to her chest, and laid her chin on them before peering up at him with her wide, bright, green eyes.

Finally, she spoke.

"I don't know where to start. So much has happened."

A tear fell, and she reached up quickly to wipe it away.

"That's for sure," chuckled Bash.

What a stupid thing to say, he thought to himself.

After a deep breath and a sigh, Enna continued, saying, "To start, I suppose… I haven't been avoiding you because I am upset about what you said when I told you that I love you." Bash looked down and bounced his knee. "I need you to know that. At first, I just wanted to give you space. Then more things kept happening, and I thought that it would be better to work through my problems myself instead of burdening anyone else. Everyone is dealing with their own things right now."

She looked away, and he felt that it was safe to watch her again. She was thinking… debating on whether she should say something.

"There's definitely a lot going around right now, but I think it's easier to deal with if you at least talk about it," he offered.

Eyes still focused on the dresser to her right, she said, "I've been wanting – no, needing – to talk to someone, but I've been afraid to."

"I know I've been… less than comforting lately, but…" He shrugged, offering himself up as a focus for her communicative experiments. She would only speak when she wanted to, and he settled in to listen.

For several moments, she watched him. More than once, she opened her mouth, and nothing came out. Then finally, in a tiny voice, she said, "I think my mother must hate me now."

As the words fell out of her, her eyes watered again, and she waited for him to speak, steeling herself to hear something terrible.

"That's impossible," said Bash quickly. "I saw how relieved she was when she found out it was really you. You don't act that way with someone you hate."

She shook her head. "But… It's my fault. I whipped Rolen and gave him those awful scars. I sent him into a rampage that caused him to release the rakshasa. I didn't come save her when he threatened to hurt her if we kept fighting him." With each sentence, her eyes welled more, and now tears began to fall freely, dripping onto her pants. "I didn't save Rolen, and she lost her son. She now bears scars across her face that will never, never go away." Her voice quivered. "I was worried before that she thought I was a monster, and now I can't help but believe it, too." She hid her face in her knees, shaking her head. "I wanted to hurt that doppelganger, Bash. I wanted to torture it for what it did. I imagined some really terrible ways to do it, too."

She sobbed lightly, rocking back and forth, shoulders shaking. Bash couldn't believe that he had been so callous. Of course, the good and noble Enna would believe that this was all her fault. He thought back over the past week or two, the long days of his own guilt sitting over him, taunting him with his failures. He had convinced himself that every death since their return had been his fault. But Aribis's words rang out in his mind even now. They had started to take root within him, he now realized, and it was his turn to offer comfort to another member of his family.

"I think we could all go around giving reasons for why this whole thing is our fault," he said. "Maybe you and me more than others, given our time here. But… I don't…" He paused and forced himself to speak the words, hoping that he could believe them this time. "I don't think it is. Being angry is normal. We've all done things we shouldn't have… when we were upset…" He recalled killing the doppelganger in his wrath, storming out onto the street that had led to Enna's death. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "But in the end, we couldn't have known where it would lead, right? I don't think we can… or at least, should… take responsibility for those things."

He couldn't quite believe himself. Where was this wisdom coming from? Perhaps he had absorbed more of what Aribis had said than he'd thought. Was he still taking responsibility for what had happened? For Enna's death, for Aribis's? For the deaths of the knights?

It's not your fault, he told himself even as tears sprang into his eyes.

Quickly, he wiped his face, but it was too late. Enna was already watching him carefully, her sobs having subsided for now.

"I keep trying to tell myself that, but I just can't bring myself to believe it," she whispered.

Join the club, he thought sourly.

"I know I should blame the rakshasa," she continued. "But he's gone, and the pain is still here. With nowhere else to direct my anger and sadness, I can only point to myself." Her voice fell to a whisper. "I can't even face my own mother now. I haven't spoken with her since before the Colosso final. And she hasn't tried to speak with me, either."

"She's been through a lot," said Bash, happy to turn his focus back to Enna's problems. "I bet talking to you would make her feel better, too. And besides—" He grinned. "—we could go do some jobs. Get some of that anger out the old-fashioned way."

"Like old times?" she smiled softly, and he nodded.

Then her face fell once more, and she turned her eyes down to her feet.

"What could I even say to her?" added Enna quietly. "She doesn't know what happened to me." Unconsciously, Enna brushed her hand over her belly, the spot that Bash had wept into even as her blood had poured out onto the streets. "Maybe it's better that she doesn't know," she whispered.

"I don't think that's true. Anyone who loves you wants to know as much about you as they can. Even the hard stuff."

He left out the part that he included himself in that category.

More tears sprang into Enna's eyes, falling afresh as she said, "We all came away with scars from him, but my worst one didn't leave a mark. Sometimes, I almost feel like I imagined it, but I can still remember so clearly how it felt." She closed her eyes as her lip quivered. "How can I even begin to think about the fact that I died?" Her hands clenched into fists.

Again, Bash felt helpless. Death was not something he had experienced. Perhaps he should direct her to Aribis.

"That I can't help with…" he said.

"It haunts me when I trance sometimes. I can't help but relive it." She paused, eyes unfocused. "I really wish I could just move on from it all. I tried, and you saw how that turned out."

"Maybe we don't move on," offered Bash. "Maybe, it just becomes a part of us and we have to learn how to deal with it."

Enna furrowed her brow as she considered this line of thinking. "Maybe… maybe you're right."

"Running isn't always the answer, I guess. Although, I'm not sure I know how to do much of anything else. Must be part of the 'learning.'" He chuckled.

She wiped her cheeks and gave the slightest of smiles. "Yeah, must be."

He felt her eyes boring into him again, and he looked down at the carpeted floor, still light and fluffy in its new life. He pushed his toes into it, feeling the individual strings.

"You're not always running, either," she said. "You have done so much, probably more than you know."

A bark of laughter escaped him before he could stop it. "Well… thanks for the sentiment," he said.

She narrowed her eyes. "It's not a sentiment. I mean it."

"Thanks," he replied with a false smile.

Enna let go of her knees and crossed her legs, straightening herself a little as her attitude became indignant.

"Bash, I know you well enough to know that that smile is fake. You can always talk to me, too, you know."

A slight panic arose within him, and he began to fidget with his pant leg.

"I know," he said dismissively. "It's just… it's fine. Aribis already slapped me around a little bit. So, I'm good."

"I feel better after saying what was bothering me. Maybe you will, too?"

She offered a smile of encouragement before shrugging, offering herself up as a focus for his communicative experiments.

Gods, she's amazing, he thought as he watched her softened expression. After all this discussion, this unveiling of her deeper fears and turmoil, she still had managed to turn the conversation around and offer to help him. How very Enna. He looked away and sighed. He should tell her something to even the playing field a bit. Glowing red eyes had haunted his trances, too.

"It all rattled me is all. You dying, Aribis dying, William exploding. Everything went wrong, and I couldn't stop it. I was… helpless. I don't like being in places where I can't control the outcome. You know that." He met her eyes again, finding deep wells of compassion, and he turned away, once again uncomfortable. "But like I said, Aribis set me straight."

Enna nodded as she said, "It's all been too much for me, that's for sure. In such a short time, too." She paused. "I know you said Aribis set you straight, but let me say this anyway." Her eyes turned sincere and earnest as she faced him. "Despite all the times you have felt helpless – and trust me, I have felt it, too – without you, we would have failed. You may not have been able to control everything, but we all made it out alive, one way or another, because of you. You have brought me great comfort through all of this, first of all. But you have also guided us through the Well countless times, used your connections to get us allies, got Erathis herself to aid us, picked impossible locks, and even hurt yourself to make sure that the rakshasa would never come back. That's only a few of the things you've done to help us." She smiled. "And I'll gladly tell you about how much you've done as many times as you need, and I'm always here to listen to anything that may be troubling you."

"Thanks…" he replied, wrestling with himself.

There was something that had been plaguing him over the past two weeks, something that he had been dismissing. Or maybe he'd been procrastinating because he didn't want to know the truth. In reality, the face of Jewel had been plaguing his trances of late, more than the rakshasa. He had spent many of his waking dreams trying to make out any more details from his memory, any indication that this woman, this bright reminder of his past, might actually be his offspring.

Could he possibly tell Enna? How would she respond to know more of his sexual escapades from a life long before her arrival? Would she still care if she knew that he may have sired a daughter?

Something inside him hesitated. He couldn't do that to her.

Smiling, he shook the thoughts from his head.

"I appreciate that," he said simply. Then he stood and offered a hand to her. "This was fun. Same time next week?"

She accepted his hand, and he hoisted her to her feet.

"Sure, weekly talks sound great," she said.

Holding firmly to his hand, she began to tug on him, pulling him toward the door.

"I have something to give you before you trance," she explained. "Want me to bring it here, or do you want to come to my room with me to get it?"

"Uh…"

Was she really offering such a thing? At a time like this? After he had stated so clearly in his note that he wasn't ready?

She dropped her hand, and he dropped his gaze before shifting awkwardly.

"How about I wait in the hall?" he mumbled.

She shrugged and said, "Sure," before walking toward the hallway and stepping through the door. Then she paused and cast a glance over her shoulder to see if he'd followed.

Surely not, he considered.

He stepped into the hall and waited, running through various things he could say to let her down easy. Or did he want to…? No, of course not. The time wasn't right. Nothing was right about this. How could she make such an offer? Surely, he was going crazy.

After a minute or so, Enna returned fully clothed, sweeping through the draping vines and hiding something behind her back.

"I wanted to say thank you," she said with a grin before offering the object to him. It appeared to be a belt with attached sheaths for daggers.

Relief washed over him as he realized what she was doing, and then confusion overtook him as he wondered why she thought this belt was so significant; he had multiple, after all.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I bought it from Kazax," she explained. "He called it a 'blink back belt.' If you throw your dagger, it'll come back to you."

"What!" he exclaimed, snatching the belt and studying it. "That's so cool."

She smiled.

"Thanks," he replied with a grin.

"No, thank you," she said with meaning. "For everything."

His heart swelled to see her heart in her eyes once again. It had been some time since she had looked at him with such kindness. He smiled.

"Anytime," he said.

Then he leaned forward and kissed her cheek softly.

With sudden panic, he realized what he'd done and quickly stepped toward his door.

"Good night!" he called before spinning and almost slamming his bedroom door behind him.

In the silence of his room, he paused with his hand still on the door, eyes wide, grimacing.

"What was that?" he mouthed to himself. "You're such an idiot!"

He walked over to his bed and plopped down, eager to observe the finer details of his new belt.

"You're the one who set the boundaries," he scorned. "Maybe stick to them?"