36. The Other Warlock

Mirage navigates a direct route to Cri's tower. As she joins the highway-like system of air vortices, she grins. It's been a long time since she traveled by airship, and she didn't realize the difference it being her ship would make.

I could go anywhere, she thinks, looking up to watch Nimbus flying joyful circles around the mainmast.

She blinks, recognizing a persistent cloudform as they pass under it. They're making better time than she'd figured.

...and still be home for dinner!

Turning off the vortex, she reaches for the tall brass lever next to the wheel, easing it forward and watching the fin-sails slant in her peripheral vision.

She cuts a wide turn around the mountaintops, tightening her grip on the wheel as the gravity of Primus instates itself. Locks the wheel, floats up to fuel the sails - a task that will hopefully be much easier with the party assembled - and cuts speed as she pulls up outside a familiar stone tower.

As soon as the ship stops, she floats backwards to the mast and begins shaking the ship's bell for all it was worth.

"Cri!" She hollers, "Get in, girl, we're going ghost hunting!"

Cri's head appears through a window, wide eyed and blinking, probably as much from surprise as the daylight.

"Oh! Mirage! I will be right out."

She hops from foot to foot as she waits. It only takes the aaracokra a few minutes to reappear at the front door, carefully locking it behind her.

Mirage hurries to drop a gangplank that she knows Cri doesn't need, but which she humours her by walking up, anyway.

"This is the ship Jadeira made for you? CRI asked, smiling as she rotates her head to look around.

"Yup!" Marwa beams. "Let me show you around!"

"Oh my."

Marwa proudly leads Cri on a tour of the ship, during which Cri is smiling and complimentary.

“Boss is gonna shit his PANTS when he see this," Mirage crows.

Cri agrees with a mischievousness that says she's excited to see his face.

"Oh! By the way, mama sent snacks for everyone - you liked the nut mix we had at the party, right?"

Cri beams as Marwa hands over the parcel. "I did! This is very kind. I'll have to send your mother my thanks later."

As they head off again, Marwa asks, " Hey Cri, did you get any detail about this haunted house gig?"

Cri shakes her head no. "Mika only said he 'might have found something,' and gave the address of an inn in Lantern Hill," she reports. " Perhaps Saeldor got more information? He should be waiting in Highdale, we were going to head to Mika's location together."

Saeldor is startled when they land, but grins and returns Mirage's enthusiastic, two-armed wave. They're not as jazzed about airship travel as they are about the fritters Lydia sent them, but they're politely appreciative of the vessel's style.

"How has your inquiries with the fey been going, by the way?" Marwa asks, as they wrap up the ship tour.

"Slow going," Saeldor says, "from what I can gather, a Wish is within the capabilities of a few archfey, but getting them to agree to cast one, and then being sure of how they'll word it, is difficult; they're capricious creatures"

Marwa nods. "Good to know."

Ta'lok has already set out from Stagwall when they get there, so they head east along the southern edge of the Ramble toward Lantern Hill.

There's no airship dock, but fortunately, Marwa's as-yet-unnamed vessel has struts that can land on flat and flat-ish ground, so they park it outside town, arm the wards, and disembark.

It's sundown, and the town walls and tall houses cast long shadows across the streets as they make their way - following a few polite inquiries - to the Brass Horn Inn & Tavern.

Once on the right street, the Inn's easy to find. A sturdy, log-and-stone building on a corner, with two sprawling floors and an attached stable.

They file inside. Its a cozy place! midsize taproom with a hearth, warm light, handful of townsfolk enjoying a brew after the workday.

Mika's at a table near a window, presumably so he can see when people get here, can but has forgotten to watch because he is working on his grimoire, tapping his pen on the table between careful, encoded letters.

“ hey check it out," Marwa greets, bringing his eyes up, "I’ve been practicing my Chultslang! Ahem:

"Eu sou novo na cidade, pode me insinar o caminho ate seu coracao?"*

He's not eating/drinking anything but he still manages to choke on something.

"Good" he coughs, baffled, off-balance, flustered one might say. "Porro, - good to see you too??"

She winks at him, mentally adding a point to her side of a scoreboard.

"Do I want to know where you learned that?" Mika asks, as they take seats at the table. He's not coughing anymore, but he still looks a smidge overheated.

“Trade secrets," Marwa says smoothly, settling in across from him.

Saeldor and Cri are looking amused.

“So, haunted, you say," Marwa says, sliding into a seat opposite him. "Where are the ghosts?”

"I don't know if its ghosts exactly," Mika says, focusing up and closing his notebook, "but its weird shit. chaos magic. Got this manor outside town all fucked up, no one will go near it."

“Are we checking it out just for funsies, or is this a lead? Cool either way.”

"The second. Possibly. Don't hold me to it just yet."

Saeldor nods, Cri smiles, recognizing even a reserved, caveat-ridden admittance of hope as hope all the same.

“Fantastic. I’m so in. Also here are your snacks from my mother. Said they were made with love, so.”

As she pushes the small box across the table, Mika gives an exasperated chuckle at being spoiled for the second time since leaving the Noor house, not to mention the way they stuffed him while he was there.

"Seriously," he says, looking in the box at the snacks and immediately recognizing several of them, "you have to tell me what you want for your birthday," he says, closing it again and smiling warmly, "Falling star? the moon? Gimme a clue"

Dontaskforakissdontaskforakissdontaskforakiss, Marwa repeats in a fast mantra. He's not even available for that kind of thing. Even if he was interested. Which he isn't. We joke. That's it. Focus up!

“I’ll think of something.” she gives him a flirty smile, one he’s seen her aim at him before, but he probably can’t tell if that twinkle in her eye means something or if it is just…a mirage.

A server drops by and gets drink orders for the table. As they step away, Saeldor asks, "Did Ta'lok get here yet or is he still on the way?"

"En route," Mika says, "Wrote him in Stagwall and got a reply yesterday, said it'll only take a day or two walking. The letter probably wasn't that far ahead of him, so we can wait."

"Marwa picked me up at home in her new airship," Cri shares. Mika's eyes widen, and Marwa beams as she gives all the details of meeting Jadeira at the party and explains all the ways in which her yet-unnamed-vessel is the most beautiful thing to ever grace the skies, besides herself, of course.

Mika whistles, "Well that'll speed up the getting-everyone-together just a little bit, won't it?"

Cri smiles. "This is the first time you've been the one to call a mission, isn't it, Mika?"

He shrugs, looking down at the wood grain of the table. Between his non-flighted, non-mounted travel speed and being occupied with his own - until recently - solo mission between adventures, its true that he's never so much as glanced at a job board with a mind for the group before.

"Well, y'know," he murmurs, "Things change."

Cri smiles, but before she can reply, Mika flinches. His head whips to look at the door.

Twisting over her shoulder to follow her stare, Marwa sees a human standing in the doorway. Slight as a reed, pale as milk, prodigious freckles standing out on her face and hands. Her blond hair is thin, nearly white, and her pale green eyes take up far too much of her callow face.

Her clothes are fit for travel, road-dusted, there's a sheathed dagger by her side and a heavy bookbag on the opposite hip. She's frowning, holding a hand close to her head without touching it, like she's been struck but fears to agitate the bruise.

She takes a second and then marches over, stopping next to Mika's chair and ignoring everyone else at the table.

"Drop the wards, it's faster."

Mika's gaze followed her over here. He's frowning, considering, curious but wary.

“Hi, can we fucking help you?” Marwa, on the other hand, is poised for a fight. Gathering all she's learned of psionic wards and drifting a hand near her own blades, just in case.

The stranger doesn't seem to notice, or if she does, she doesn't care. She's staring impatiently at Mika, waiting for a reply.

"What're you going to do if I drop them?" He asks.

"Brief you."

He's thinking for a sec, chewing the inside of his lip. The others are watching, waiting.

"Fine." He says, decisive, meeting the stranger's eye again. "But knock first."

Silence is his answer. The stranger doesn't move or speak, but the cautious confusion on Mika's face is fading to amazement, then a grin. She cocks her head to one side, a flicker of amusement crosses his face. They're having some conversation none of you can hear. Neither of them say anything aloud, but their faces flicker between moods, responses.

Marwa remembers asking him about telepathy before they infiltrated Amir's palace. He never said he couldn't, she realizes, he only dodged to other options. Refusal, not inability. Protecting them, again? From the monster in his mind?

Doesn't seem to have any compunctions now.

“Hey there, friend. I’m Saeldor," The firbolg breaks the strange silence, "nice to meet ya. Mika, this here a friend of yours?”

The stranger doesn't acknowledge them at all beyond a glance, but Mika startles, blinks, like he forgot the rest of the party was there for a second.

"oh, sorry," he says, then, turning to the stranger again, "can I introduce you?"

She doesn't answer, only pause, but Mika pauses as if listening all the same.

"...because they're my friends and its rude to-" he frowns, "yeah I know its slower, but I think I'd prefer to speak aloud in mixed company, cool?"

The stranger rolls her eyes at this, but says "cool" aloud.

"Okay," a patient smile before he turns to the rest of the table. "Saeldor, Cri, Mirage, this is Rochelle. I've never met her before today but I think we have a lot in common. Rochelle, these are friends of mine."

She regards the three of you, guarded. "Nice to meet you." flat

“Pleasure," Mirage returns in the same tone.

"Nice to meet you, Rochelle," Cri murmurs, and Saeldor repeats it more heartily.

Addressing the whole party, Rochelle continues, "I'm here to borrow your warlock."

Cri hesitates. "…Do you want to be borrowed, Mika?”

Mika smiles, a little strained.

"I don't think I have much of a choice on this one, Cri."