Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Wait, wait a second.” Fjord said, holding his arm out and looking back at Nott. “Maybe we should send you ahead to scout around. I don’t like the look of this.”

The group considered the chamber before them: narrowly-built of blue-grey stone, lit by torches that flickered a soft purple under the tall, arched ceiling. Towering columns outlined a smooth path to the only other thing in sight: a small stone pedestal, sixty feet away, with a strange little object resting on top that they couldn’t quite make out at this distance. Moonbeams filtered down in a faint halo of light.

“Really?” Beau grinned. “You think the creepy empty back-room of a demented beholder is dangerous?”

Molly rose to the opportunity. “I’m glad to see you’re trying to keep up with the rest of us, dear,” he smirked.

“It’s called sarcasm, you idiot, ever heard of it?”

“How could I not have, stuck with you all the time—”

At the exact moment Caleb sighed and said, “Knock it off, schatz,” Yasha squeezed the monk’s shoulder and shook her head. Jester giggled as Beau and Molly shot each other one last glare, for old times’ sake, and settled down.

Nott took a swig from her flask. “Wait here,” she said. “I’ll let you all know when the coast is clear.”

“Take Frumpkin too,” said Caleb, voice fond and worried. “Just in case.”

They watched her scuttle into the chamber, orange tabby at her heels. Molly slipped his fingers into Caleb’s and gave a quick squeeze for reassurance as the wizard’s eyes clouded over with a pearly glow and he sent his sight and hearing into his familiar.

Nott tapped her toe against the stone slabs on the floor. Then she circled around the columns, inspecting each one, before carefully making her way to the pedestal. About ten feet in front of it, she paused, and nudged a disgruntled-looking Frumpkin into the ring of moonlight. Nothing happened. She dropped on all fours and listened to the ground. She crept up to the altar and inspected the base. She licked the sides. She ran a finger along the top, and glared suspiciously at the object resting on it.

“No traps!” She called back to the group. Her voice echoed.

Beau blinked. “What, not at all?”

Nott, tiny in the distance, shrugged. “Nope.”

“Well, that’s certainly unexpected,” Molly remarked.

“And absolutely suspicious as hell,” mused Fjord.

“Maybe the beholder did not think anybody would make it this far?” Jester suggested. “Or maybe it was friendly and we should not have killed it, oh, no!”

Yasha frowned. “Jester, it electrocuted you and then sprayed acid on you.”

“That is true. That is a good point.”

“Let’s move in,” said Fjord, “but very carefully. I trust Nott, but it’s possible she missed something.”

“She might have been too light to trigger one of the traps,” added Caleb, whose senses had returned. “Someone tough should lead us in.”

“I’m tough,” said Molly. “It’s one of my best traits.”

The group looked at him. Then they turned towards Yasha, who nodded and took the lead. Caleb patted Molly’s hand reassuringly, but there was a cheeky curve at the edges of his usually-stoic expression. Molly gave a grin in return.

They slowly crept into the chamber, the only sound coming from their cautious footsteps bouncing back from the walls.

“I keep expecting something awful to happen,” muttered Beau. “Like a dragon to come crashing in or the room to explode or another beholder to bust in or magma to come out of the stonework or something.”

“Maybe a unicorn will show up!” Jester suggested. “Or maybe a bunch of tiny ones, that would be so good.”

“It is odd that nothing is happening,” said Yasha. “Caleb, can you pull out another Detect Magic for us?”

“I am tapped after that last fight,” Caleb sighed. “It would take me ten minutes to cast as a ritual, if you would like.”

“Let’s see what we’re dealing with first,” suggested Fjord. “It might be better for you to have cantrips at the ready, just in case something does show up.”

As they gathered around the altar, Nott gestured up at the box, a good foot above her head. “It’s not trapped or anything. I checked it out super well, and there really is nothing.”

Molly strode forward. “I’m going to pick it up,” he declared. “Are we all alright with that plan?”

Caleb bit his lip. “Be careful, ja?”

Fjord nodded. “Just…do it slowly.”

“It’s safe to move it,” Nott muttered, “I’m just not sure if anything would happen if you tried to open it.”

Molly lifted it up carefully. The group held their breath. But there was no ominous shifting of stones or cranking of gears, no strange otherworldly groans or flashes of magic, no change in the moonlight or the gently floating dust throughout the chamber.

“I’m still alive,” said Molly.

“Hooray,” shrugged Beau, and he grinned scathingly at her.

“Try shaking it now!” said Jester. “Is there something in it?”

Molly gingerly shook it. Something rattled within.

“Now open it! Open it, what’s inside?”

Before someone less impulsive could intervene, Molly yanked on the lid. It did not open. “It’s locked,” he declared.

Once the party’s hearts stopped racing, Fjord held up a hand. “Hang on, hang on. Would you mind if Caleb and I took a look, before we tried anything else like that? Just in case there’s some kind or arcane protection or somethin’ like that.”

“I think that is a good idea,” said Caleb.

The box was passed over to them. Now, up-close, they could see that the wood was a fine teak, with thin gold flowers etched on its surface. The hinges were also gold, though somewhat dull from time. There were tiny, odd symbols carved around the edges, but they weren’t arcane in nature, they were—

“Open for wonders that lie within,” read Caleb as he turned the box in his hand.

“But beware the risks that choosing bears,” said Yasha from over his shoulder.

“I have no idea what you two just said,” said Fjord.

“It’s in Celestial,” said Yasha, and repeated the engraving. “Apparently it holds something amazing, but possibly dangerous.”

Nott tugged on Caleb’s coat. “Can I see it?” she asked.

He handed the box down to her and looked back to the group. “This might be something we could bring back to Pumat’s to ask about,” he suggested.

Molly considered this. “Pumat would probably know what it is, but if it’s too powerful or too dangerous, he might try to take it away from us and bring it to the Assembly or something. He does work for them.”

“That’s a good point,” agreed Fjord. “We could hang onto it until Caleb is ready with another identify spell, and just figure it out in the tavern. The box itself isn’t magic, I think it would be okay to take back with us.”

Beau nodded. “I would like to get out of here, sooner the better. I don’t trust—”

There was a faint click. Nott pushed the lid open, and slipped her Thieves’ Tools back into her bag. “There’s just a little pouch in here,” she said with mild disappointment.

Jester pushed her way over and crouched next to Nott. “Oohhh, oh, let me see!” she shouted.

Caleb sat down. Beau unclenched her grip on her staff. Yasha pinched the bridge of her nose, and Fjord allowed himself to exhale again. “I give up,” he said, and walked a few paces away from the group in exasperation. “It seems fine, you three take over.”

Molly knelt down on Nott’s other side and peered into the box. It held only a small drawstring bag, plain-looking and tied with a leather cord. He plucked it out, gingerly at first, and when nothing happened he held it up and wiggled it for the others to see.

“Open it!” Jester cheered. “Open it, what’s inside?”

Molly opened it.

A few paces away from the rest, amid the foggy haze of panic in his brain, a thought pushed into the forefront of Caleb’s mind. Why did you pick the impulsive idiot to fall in love with?

Because he’s sweet and caring and usually quite logical, came the response. And great in bed.

Molly peered into the pouch, then looked back at the others. “It’s cards,” he said.

Yasha frowned. “Cards? Like…your kind of cards?”

“Yes. There’s probably about…” he weighed the pouch in his hands, “…maybe thirteen or so?”

Beau sighed. “Usually I would doubt you, but you’re probably exactly right.”

Molly beamed. “Thank you, dear.”

“What do the cards look like?” Jester asked. “Are they tarot cards? Can you use them to tell my fortune?”

“There aren’t enough in here for these to be tarot,” Molly said. “Hang on, let me get a better look.”

And he opened the brim, and reached into the pouch, and fished around for a moment, and pulled one out.

Two tieflings and a goblin studied the card.

“What does that mean?” Jester asked, puzzled. “Am I going to be rich and famous?”

Molly stared at the image. “Er…I’m not sure. It’s nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

Caleb tamped down the second round of incredulous shock racing through his system and craned his neck to see Molly’s hands. “What does it have on it?”

Molly turned it over. The card depicted a dark figure in the forefront, hunched over and clutching at its head. Five swords were stabbed through its chest, hilts in its back and blades poking out from the front. Behind it, a red shape sporting horns and wings watched on with only one eye.

“Rogue,” read Beau.

“I’m a rogue,” said Nott. “Maybe it tells us what the people in our party are. Molly, pull another one—”

“Nein,” shouted Caleb, a bit more forcefully than he intended. He lowered his voice. “Please, Molly, put that back, we don’t even know if they’re magic yet.”

Fjord nodded. “I agree with Caleb,” he said. “Who knows what that’s supposed to mean? It looks terrible, and what if it’s a warning, or if you’ve been cursed, or…oh, gods, what if you’ve been cursed? Molly how do you feel?”

Mollymauk considered this. “I feel pretty fine? Maybe a bit hungry.”

“He’s been cursed with hunger,” Nott said solemnly. “I understand.”

“I don’t really think that’s—”

Caleb was cut off as, suddenly, the card in Molly’s hand vanished in a faint puff of smoke. The tiefling blinked in surprise and opened his palm. There was nothing but air. The party, collectively, paled.

“Oh, shit,” said Jester. “Something super magical just happened.”

Yasha gave Molly a stern look. “That was incredibly stupid,” she said quietly.

Molly did not like the weight of her disappointment. “Sorry,” he said.

“How do you feel now, Molly?” Caleb asked slowly.

“Still fine,” which was true. “And still hungry,” which was also true.

“We should keep an eye on him,” Beau said. “Just in case something crazy happens.”

Caleb moved closer to Molly. “I will watch him,” he said. “And when we get back, I will try and see if there are any lingering magical affects, okay? Then we can figure out more about these cards.”

Yasha stepped forwards as well. “I’ll help,” she said. “If there is something wrong with him, I think we should have some muscle also.”

“Good idea,” said Fjord. “Now, I don’t think there’s anything else in here, so let’s get a move on back aboveground. Please. Does that sound good to y’all?”

There was a chorus of agreement. Molly handed the deck over to Jester, who dropped it into the haversack. Then the Mighty Nein made their way out of the cavern, Fjord and Beau at the lead, Nott and Jester just behind, and at the very back, Molly being flanked by his oldest friend, wearing a look of exasperation, and the love of his life, wearing a look of trepidation and growing concern. A scraggly orange tabby trailed at their heels. The group’s footsteps echoed against the stone. The moonlight settled softly around them. Soon, the chamber grew quiet and still once more.

“He’s completely fine,” said Caleb, to his own surprise. “And I mean completely. There are no magical effects to detect.”

“And Greater Restoration didn’t do anything either,” shrugged Jester. “No curse, no disease, no nothing.”

The party were seated around a table in the Leaky Tap after cashing out with the Gentleman for the death of the beholder. In the time it took Caleb to work through a ritual for Identify and for Jester to pour her last healing spells into Molly, Nott had already polished off three plates of sausages and Fjord, Beau, and Yasha had seemed to accept that there really was nothing wrong with Mollymauk.

“We should still go see Pumat tomorrow,” Caleb said. “Just in case.”

Fjord nodded. “Plus, we have some coin to spend now, and we could swing by just to browse a bit.”

Molly put on an air of feigned hurt. “Am I just a side-errand to you, Fjord?” He held his hand over his heart.

Fjord met his gaze with a raised eyebrow. “After that crazy, un-thought-out thing you did earlier? Yes, Molly.”

“Fair enough,” said Molly, and took a swig of his flagon. Under the table, his free hand was now holding Caleb’s.

“I am still quite annoyed with you,” Caleb said. “That is not something you should ever do again. Next time wait for me to check it out first, alright?” He turned towards Nott. “That goes for you as well, spatz.”

Nott looked mollified. “Sorry, Caleb,” she said.

“Sorry,” Molly echoed. “It was just so tempting, and sometimes magic can take a while.”

The wizard sighed. “Yes, I know.”

Jester pounded her palm on the table. “Caleb! Speaking of, can you do more magic on the pouch? I want to know what it is!”

He let go of Molly’s hand and reached out towards Jester. “Hand it over, then. Let’s find out.”

As he began muttering the beginnings of the incantation, the party tucked into their dinner. Or what was left of their dinner, in Nott’s case. After ten minutes, Caleb placed a hand on the pouch, waited a couple moments. Then he gave a startled yelp, and instantly wrenched his hand away. A flagon, thankfully empty, went flying off the table during his retreat.

“What?” Molly asked, putting a hand on his shoulder, “What’s the matter?”

Caleb blinked a few times and took a breath to steady himself. “Verzeihung, I’m sorry, it just surprised me.”

“What did?” Jester asked. “Tell us, Caleb, you never do!”

“I…I am not entirely sure what I just saw,” he said slowly, “but that pouch contains extremely, extremely powerful magics. Like, reality-altering magic. I can’t even get a name or an exact description. It was too much.”

Molly rubbed his thumb in a circle. Caleb leaned into the touch and sighed. “As far as I am aware, you pick a card. Then it vanishes, and then something happens. And by something, I mean…anything. Its effects are endless.”

The implications of this sunk in as the group stared silently at the small drawstring bag.

“So you’re saying that there is something that’s going to happen to Molly?” Yasha asked eventually.

Caleb sighed. “Maybe? But also maybe not. This kind of magic is very unpredictable. It is possible that whatever that card was supposed to change already took effect, and we did not notice. Or perhaps it takes time.”

“Molly?” Jester asked with a serious expression on her face.

“Yes, dear?”

“Check if your dick got smaller. Maybe that is what happened.”

After Caleb stopped choking and Beau stopped cackling with delight, the somber atmosphere returned.

“I think it would be a good idea to check with Pumat tomorrow, then,” said Fjord. “Well, today, technically, since it’s ass-o-clock at night. Maybe everything is alright, but who knows? Better safe than sorry.”

The party agreed. “Keep an eye on him tonight, alright?” Yasha said to Caleb. “Just in case.”

The wizard nodded, and ignored Jester’s suggestively-wiggling eyebrows at that comment. “I’ll set Frumpkin on watch as well,” he added.

Molly patted Caleb on the shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m sure it will be fine. Remember, that box said it had wonderous things inside it.”

Nobody wanted to mention that it had also held a warning.

Fjord tried for a smile. It helped. “Come on now, you guys. Let’s just celebrate. We made quite a nice sum tonight, and we should be proud!”

“I’ll drink to making money,” Beau said, and raised her flagon.

“Me too,” said Molly, in a rare moment of camaraderie.

“I’ll drink to anything,” said Nott, and lifted her flask into the air.

“Cheers,” said the rest, and the Mighty Nein clinked their mugs together.

Caleb turned a page in his book and skimmed through the words. It wasn’t the most interesting dissertation on the various confluences of thaumatological weather patterns, but it did the trick. Molly stood on the other side of the bed, back turned, undoing his jewelry and bangles for the night.

After a few beats of silence, he shrugged and said, “I don’t think Jester was right. If anything, it’s gotten bigger.”

Caleb spluttered, and pushed his face into the book. “Mollymauk!”

Molly looked up. He wore an enormous grin. “Want to check for me?”

Caleb sighed. “Molly, how can you be in such a joking mood?”

Molly shrugged. “What’s done is done,” he said. “You know I try not to worry about the past. It’s done me pretty well so far.”

“But what if something did happen and—”

Molly sat down on the bed, leaned towards Caleb, and pressed a finger to the man’s lips. “Many things happen all the time. You know that as well as I. But what’s done is done. Look at the here and now. I’m not muddled with any magics, as you so kindly checked for me earlier, and that must mean that whatever the card did, it didn’t do it to me. I’m fine. I’m here. And so are you, right now, with me.”

And then Molly leaned in, and the mischievous smile danced across his face again. The tips of his horns pressed into the headboard, and his hair just brushed the edges of Caleb’s cheeks. His tail slowly crept along the wizard’s leg. “Just you and me,” he whispered. “Why don’t you put your reading away, and let’s enjoy this moment together, now?”

Caleb placed the book on their bedside table. He fought the grin invading his own serious frown, and lost.

“Alright, Mollymauk Tealeaf,” he whispered back. “What did you have in mind?”

Molly whined as he felt Caleb shifting away. “Mmm…where are you going, love?”

Caleb stroked the side of Molly’s cheek. “Just to the washroom, alright? I’ll be back soon.”

Molly grumbled, but unhooked his arm from Caleb’s.

“Thank you, schatz. Be back very soon.”

Molly had been in the warm embrace of sleep for most of it, but soon the nagging feeling in the back of his mind made itself known. Caleb had been gone for a very long time.

He snapped back into reality, cold and harsh, and was on his feet in an instant. He grabbed a sword and bolted for the door. The upstairs of the tavern wasn’t that big, and part of him hoped his feet pounding against the wood wouldn’t wake anybody up. A larger part of him couldn’t care less.

He poked his head into the washroom. “Caleb?” he called as loudly as he dared. “Caleb, are you there?”

Empty. So was the corridor, as well as the smaller hallway that branched off into the proprietor’s quarters. Eventually, he arrived at the staircase leading to the balcony. That was fine. Caleb had worryingly frequent night terrors, so perhaps he was just after some fresh air.

At the top of the staircase, Molly pushed the door open and saw Caleb.

His hair and his coat blew softly in the wind as he leaned against the railing. Sunlight was just beginning to poke out from behind the mountains in the distance.

“Caleb!” Molly called, and began to walk closer. “I got worried when you didn’t come back.”

His lover turned around. Hidden mostly by his hair, Caleb’s expression was unreadable.

Molly tensed. Something was very wrong. “Caleb, are you alright? You were gone for a while,” he added as casually as possible.

“Yes,” said Caleb, and now his voice was rising. “But I cannot believe it took me this long to realize.”

Molly’s hand twitched ever so slightly towards his sword. “To realize what, dear?”

Caleb looked up. Molly could see now, that outlined in the growing burn of the rising dawn, Caleb’s teeth were clenched and his eyes were burning with pure, pure malice.

“How much of a fool I was for letting myself lie with a demon like you,” he said, and three balls of flame shot out of his hands and flung themselves towards Molly’s breaking heart.

Chapter Text

Molly moved on pure instinct.

As his mind shut down completely from the shock and dread flooding in, his hands gripped the handle of his scimitar and swung it outwards. The blade, cheap carnival glass strengthened by its years at Molly’s side and its constant exposure to blood magic, collided with Caleb’s first streak of flame. The flat managed to catch the Scorching Ray and deflect it outwards, sending it careening off the balcony and into the distance over the sleepy skyline of Zadash. Mollymauk used the momentum from the impact to spin out of the way of the second ray, which missed his head by a hair’s breadth. The heated air left in its wake prickled his cheek. Then the third strike came, trailing after the others, and Molly’s bare feet launched himself out of its path and into the western railing.

His hair stuck against his forehead, sweaty from the heat and the sudden movement. His eyes surveyed the area, out of habit, though barely any information could breach the fog of confusion and hurt currently dominating his mind. A tiny, functioning piece of him was painfully aware that he wore no armor, wielded only one scimitar. He didn’t even have a shirt on.

He could see Caleb gearing up to cast another spell. The diamond was out now, and Caleb’s nimble fingers wove pure arcana through the air. Molly needed to get in closer. A magical onslaught would be impossible to fend off at this distance.

The animalistic, survival-driven part of Molly took the lead. He ran towards his lover and tackled him to the floor, scrambling to pin his arms down and prevent the man from casting any more spells. Caleb’s head hit the ground with a sickening crack, and guilt joined the rampaging storm behind Molly’s eyes. Still, there were more pressing matters to attend to.

“What’s gotten in to you?!” Molly yelled above the pressure pounding in his ears. “Are you possessed? Is this that bloody card?”

Caleb opened his mouth, and the sound that followed was a breath of pure magic, an incomprehensible command that Molly couldn’t even process, let alone recognize. And before he could shout again, demand more answers for what was going on, searing fire ripped through his flesh. For moment, there was just blazing agony.

The force threw him off of Caleb, who scrambled away and backed into the corner railing, hands raised again and eyes still dark, though now full of haunting, dancing firelight. Molly rose slowly, coughing from the smoke that had filled his lungs. The fire raged on and now, as lucidity overpowered ravaged emotions, Molly realized what an idiot he had been for holding down Caleb’s hands but still allowing him to speak. Thank the gods—or not the gods at all, he supposed—for his natural fire resistance. In the face of an Immolation like that, a normal man might not have made it.

But Mollymauk was not a normal man. Basic strategy returned to him. He held out his hands and before Caleb could react, blood started pouring out of the red eye on Molly’s palm. His eyes narrowed. His neck began to bleed as well, and finally, he felt the Blood Maledict take hold. Caleb stopped in his tracks, as if restrained by an invisible force, and began writhing against the unseen bonds holding him in place.

“Release me!” the wizard screamed, and the desperate anger wracking his cries broke Molly’s heart all over again. “Verdammt devil, let me go! You must answer for what you have done! You cannot—”

The door to the roof burst open.

Yasha came barreling through, followed closely by Beau, with Nott and Fjord at her heels. Jester was last, and squeezing itself through the door behind her was an enormous, spectral lollipop. All of them had their weapons, and all of them were in various states of undress—except for Beau, who slept in her monk vestiges, and Nott, who had never thought to undress for sleeping.

There was a pregnant pause, as the party stared in bewilderment at the scene before them.

“He’s cursed!” Caleb and Molly shouted at exactly the same time.

Nott’s crossbow immediately swiveled towards Molly. The others did not move so quickly, which warmed a small spot in Molly’s otherwise panicking heart.

“I think it’s the card, affecting him somehow!” Molly called, while still trying to bind Caleb. “He disappeared in the middle of the night and when I came up here he attacked me!”

“That’s a lie!” Caleb immediately retorted. “He tried to kill me in my sleep. He chased me up here and is using his curse on me!”

“Let me shoot him!” Nott yelled. There were tears now, forming in her eyes. “Look at that! Molly’s cast his blood magic on Caleb, look! He’s done it to bandits before, we know what it looks like!”

“Now,” Fjord spoke in a soft voice, like one might to a frightened animal, “hang on a second, Nott. We don’t know who’s telling the truth here.”

“I am!” shouted Caleb and Molly at the same time. Molly cursed inwardly. It would be funny, how in sync they were, given any other circumstances.

“Molly, release Caleb,” called Yasha. “If you really aren’t trying to kill him, release him. Then we can talk.”

“If I do, he might attack me,” Molly warned.

Caleb scoffed. “I was defending myself from you.”

That hurt Molly enough to let the wizard go. Caleb dropped onto his hands and knees and before Fjord could stop her, Nott scrambled over towards him.

“See?” Molly said, backing up and raising his hands. “Nothing wrong with me. The card did something to him.”

Yasha looked relieved. Jester, lollipop still slowly revolving behind her, stepped forwards. “Caleb?” she asked carefully. “How do you feel?”

“I feel fine, Jester,” he said tersely. “Keep your eyes on him. He was acting perfectly normally before he attacked me.”

Beau swore under her breath. “We don’t have anyone else that can cast Identify, do we?” she muttered.

“No,” sighed Fjord. “Molly, Caleb, why don’t we all sit down, all civil-like, and have a little chat? You can be far away from one another, just for now, and we’ll hear what you’ve got to say. Doesn’t that sound reasonable?”

“Yes,” Molly said, letting the scimitar hang limply at his side. “And while we do that, can somebody please heal my burns?”

“That is agreeable,” said Caleb. “Then you will see that the man is still dangerous.”

The rest of the group, understandably unsettled, moved towards the them. Nott sat next to Caleb, fussing over his hair, and Jester knelt down next to Molly and pulled out her Healer’s Kit.

Yasha, Beau, and Fjord sat directly between the two groups.

“Jester,” Fjord asked, “can you break out a Zone of Truth and make this a lot easier?”

Jester, in the middle of wrapping a bandage around Molly’s chest, looked guilty. “Ah. I cannot do that.”

“How do you mean?” Yasha raised an eyebrow.

“I…I did not go to sleep yet. Spiritual Weapon was my last spell slot.”

“It’s dawn, Jester,” said Molly.

She pouted. “I’m sorry, okay! I was reading Tusk Love again and it was getting to the good part and I didn’t want to stop.”

“The good part?” Nott asked.

“Yes, the good part! So, I didn’t sleep! Why do you think I’m using this stupid healer’s kit on Molly? I just figured we probably wouldn’t go out again tomorrow, so it would be fine.”

“That’s…that’s alright, Jester,” Fjord rubbed his eyes. “I guess we’ve just got to do this the old-fashioned way.”

“That being?” Caleb sounded wary.

“We ask questions,” said Fjord. “Caleb, you first. What happened?”

The wizard gently pushed Nott away and glanced over the group. When he looked at Molly, the tiefling caught the faintest hint of simmering rage, and a quick flash of firelight. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

“I was asleep, in…our room,” Caleb began slowly. “And then suddenly I felt something shove me out of the bed. I hit my head on the ground—” and here Caleb turned his neck so the others could see the injury there “—and all of a sudden he was standing above me with his scimitar. I did not know what to do, I had to run, and I somehow managed to roll out of the way of his swing. And then afraid for my life I bolted out of the room and ran through the hallways, and before I knew it I was out on the balcony. He chased after me, and tried to attack me with his sword, and I did my best to defend without fighting back, he is...he is important to me, but he gave me no choice and I had to retaliate but still that was not enough. You saw what happened next.”

Fjord turned towards Molly. “And what happened for you, Molly?”

His tail swished back and forth behind him. “Caleb got out of bed in the middle of the night. When he didn’t come back for a while, I went looking for him. I found him up on the balcony, but when I tried to talk to him, he attacked me. I managed to duck away from most of the spells, and I tried to pin him to the ground to get him to stop, which is where that head injury really came from, might I add. But then he got off an Immolate on me, and, well…that’s why my pants are singed and why I probably have no eyebrows and why my entire chest is burned.”

“You still have your eyebrows, though,” Jester reassured him. “And the burn marks will go away tomorrow. I am the cleric, I know these things.”

There was a moment’s pause, as the rest mentally compared these statements. Caleb shuffled slightly under their attention, and Molly winced at the sting of medicinal herbs on his injuries.

And then Beau turned to Caleb with an odd expression on her face. “You said…you said you ran up here after being shoved right out of bed?”

“Ja.”

“You just ran up here in a panic, ‘afraid for your life,’ as it were?”

“Ja.”

“So how did you have time to grab your coat, and your scarf, and your component pouch and your spellbook?”

Caleb hesitated. In the brief silence, Nott leapt to his defense. “Caleb is always ready for anything! When we were alone before, he always had his stuff at the ready just in case.”

Fjord considered this. “I suppose that could make sense, though it has been a while since—”

“That’s not true,” said Molly firmly. “At least, it was probably true in the past. I used to sleep with my swords too, Fjord can tell you that, but Caleb and I always put our stuff away for the night when we’re in an inn.”

“He’s lying,” said Caleb. “I would never do something that idiotic, he would know that. Survival is first.”

Molly bit his lip. His pointed teeth almost drew blood. The group wouldn’t believe him right now, but he wanted so badly to argue and convince the others he was right.

“I don’t need to worry so much about running away when I’m sleeping next to you, do I?” Caleb’s breath had been a whisper, a small smile across his lips.

Molly had left his swords on the table by the door. “Never.”

Beauregard rubbed her chin. For once, Molly was extremely glad for her annoying tendency to ask too many questions. “How did you manage to dodge Molly?” she asked.

“What is your meaning?”

“Nothing, nothing, it’s just…you’re sort of…squishy. And not that quick. And as much as I hate Mollymauk, I’m inclined to think that if he really was trying to kill you, he’d have done it. Why shove you out of the bed? Why not just stab you and be done with it?”

Caleb scowled. “I don’t know, Beau. I don’t know how the curse works or anything like that. Maybe he wanted me to suffer. He’s heartless and bloodthirsty.”

“Maybe,” she said, and raised an eyebrow at Fjord.

Nott gave Caleb a sideways glance. “You are squishy,” she mused. “And…that was a little weird of you to say. I mean, he is your boyfriend and even if he’s cursed—”

Caleb shook his head. “I am sorry, Nott. It has been a long day.”

She gave him a pat on the hand. But it was quick, and more out of habit than anything.

“Caleb?” Yasha asked. “You said Molly was attacking you and you had no other choice but to fight back?”

“Yes,” he said.

“But there are no cuts on your person,” she said slowly, “whereas Molly is thoroughly singed. He did not land a hit and yet you felt threatened enough to use fire, fire of all things against your lover?”

He did not respond.

“And you couldn’t have tried Hold Person, or at least summoned the earthen paw to bind him down, or something else that would have—”

And then Caleb shot to his feet. Even Nott jolted away slightly in surprise. “Why do you all keep asking me questions?!” he yelled. “Why are you asking him nothing?! Look at him, he is obviously under a spell and dangerous and hurt me! And yet you all direct your interrogations towards me, and I do not like this! He is vile! A horrible, disgusting, wretched, malformed demon of a man—”

The spectral lollipop whammed into Caleb’s back. As he fell face-first against the ground and did not rise, the purple construct faded away.

“That was not Caleb,” Jester said angrily. “He would know better.” Her tail lashed out in the air. Molly put a calming hand on her shoulder and she settled down only slightly.

Fjord was the first to speak up. “I think…” he said slowly, “I think we should tie him up and go visit Pumat as soon as we can.”

“Excuse me, Enchanter Sol?”

The bell hanging above the door of the Invulnerable Vagrant chimed softly as Fjord made his way in, followed closely by Jester, Beau, and Molly. Despite the early hour, there was already one Pumat seated behind the counter, wearing glasses and reading a book, and another polishing a large bronze shield on the wall with a feather duster that was comically small in his large, white-furred mits. Soft clanging and shuffling sounds from the backroom signaled the other two were hard at work.

“Oh, why hello there!” the first Pumat said amicably as 4/7 of the Mighty Nein entered the shop. “You all are here bright and early today, aren’t’cha?”

“That we are, Encanter Sol, and we’re here on somewhat pressing business, if that’s alright with you.” said Fjord.

The Pumat carefully removed his glasses, folded them, placed them into his apron pocket, and laced his fingers together on the countertop. “Of course, of course,” he said. “What do you need?”

“We’ve got more healing potions now,” said the Pumat with the feather duster, “if that’s what you’re looking for. Our other stock is still…mostly replenished.”

“That would be nice,” said Molly smoothly, “and we might pick up a few on the side. But actually, we were wondering if we could ask you for a bit of information, about…some rumors we’ve heard regarding a certain kind of magical item.”

“Well,” smiled the Pumat behind the counter, gesturing grandly with his hands, “magical items happen to be my specialty, and for return customers like you, I’d be happy to help. What sort of item is this?”

“A deck of cards,” said Jester. “A super-duper powerful deck of cards.”

The pleasant smile on Pumat’s face faded slightly, and the warmth behind his eyes was replaced with a sudden, almost hungry fascination. “Cards, you say? Is this something you’ve found? Can I see them?”

Before anybody else could say a word, Fjord held up his empty hands and shook his head. “Unfortunately, no,” he said with heavy regret. “We’ve just heard rumors about such an object existin’ out there in the world, and we were thinking of going to try and find one. You know, a good, solid adventure. Except we don’t really know much about them, and we figured it’d be best to do our homework first.”

For a moment, counter-Pumat studied Fjord’s winning smile and disarming stance. Then he sighed and nodded, the shrewd interest vanished as quickly as it had come. “That’s a shame,” he said, “I believe I know what you’re talking about, and I would’ve just loved to see a set in person.”

“You know what they are?” Beau asked. “You’ve heard of them before?”

Pumat nodded and leaned his forearms back onto the counter. “Oh, I have, little missy,” he said. “What you’re talkin’ about there is called a ‘Deck of Many Things.’ They’re incredibly rare, powerful magical items that have the power to change reality.”

“Change reality,” Molly echoed, a sick feeling beginning to well in his stomach. “In…in a good way? Or a bad way?”

Pumat chuckled. “Oh, well, it depends! As the name suggests, there are many things that can happen to those who pull a card. Not many people know what each one does, but some can grant vast riches or bestow wondrous magical items, whereas others can steal the soul right out of your body, or strip you of your titles and deeds and standing in a second.”

“So there's a risk," Beau nodded, "that you pull a bad card and something even worse happens instead.”

“Exactly,” agreed Pumat. “It’s a gamble, with the highest stakes imaginable. Only people who are truly desperate, or people who aren’t aware of the dangers would ever try and use it.”

Molly could feel Jester’s eyes boring into the back of his skull. He tried to ignore it. “Pumat,” he asked slowly, “do you know of anywhere we could find more information about these cards? You know, just so we have a whole idea of what we’d be getting ourselves into.”

The large shopkeeper rubbed his chin and thought for a moment. “I could tell you what I know of a couple cards that are said to exist in the deck, and what they can do. But other than that, you’d have to maybe try the Archive. The wizards at the Halls of Erudition would know more, but—and I say this respectfully—I’m not a hundred percent sure they’d be willing to speak with…outsiders such as yourselves. Respectfully.”

“Of course,” said Fjord. “We understand. Would you mind writing down what you know?”

“I’d be happy to." Pumat reached under the counter for a quill and a piece of parchment. As he scrawled the information across the top of the page, he tilted his head and said, with extremely exaggerated nonchalance, “You know, if you ever do go on this adventure, and manage to find a deck, I sure would love to see it. Here you are.”

Fjord tucked the slip into his leathers and gave Pumat a confident grin. “Of course,” he said. “You’d be the first one we’d go to. Thank you so much for your help, and for all of your time.”

“Come back again!” was the call as they walked back out into the Pentamarket. Carts rolled past, and merchants were starting to spread their wares across folding tables and on carpets against the cobbles. The Nein, or most of the Nein, faced one another with grim expressions on the street.

“So we still don’t exactly know what’s wrong,” sighed Jester. “We don’t know if Caleb is okay or not.”

Fjord tried to give her a reassuring look. It almost worked. “We’ll take a look at this information, and think hard on it,” he said. “And if that fails, we hit the Archives.”

Beau nodded. “It’s about time I dropped by there again, anyways. They’re probably missing me.”

Molly thumbed at the edge of his sleeve with his fingers. “Let’s go back and check on Caleb now,” he suggested, trying not to let hope creep into his tone. “In case anything’s changed.”

Nott and Yasha, sitting next to each other at the foot of the bed, both startled as the body slouched against the headboard groaned and began to shift.

“Shoot. The others have not returned yet,” muttered Yasha. “What should we do?”

Nott looked around Caleb and Molly's room in a panic. “I…I don’t know! Let’s just, just play it cool. Like nothing’s going on.”

“Alright,” Yasha nodded. “We can do that. We can be cool.”

As Caleb groaned again and shuffled some more, Nott yanked the stopper off her flask and began to drink. Yasha quickly drew her greatsword, slammed the tip of the blade into the wooden floor, and started examining the handle with a feigned, wholly unconvincing fascination.

After a few more seconds, Caleb awoke, and blinked a few times from the sudden morning light that leaked in through the window. He tried to brush the hair out of his face, but found he could not move his limbs. He looked down, and noticed that his hands and ankles were bound together. By the time his gaze returned to the girls in front of him, Nott had already consumed enough alcohol to poison a small child, and Yasha had given up and was staring at him with intense concern. His confusion grew.

“Er…excuse me, you two? Why am I tied up? And why are you both in my bedroom?”

Nott and Yasha exchanged nervous glances. Nott went first.

“Caleb?” she asked carefully. “How are you feeling?”

He considered this. “I am alright, I think? Perhaps rather puzzled at the moment. And my head is slightly sore.”

“Do you feel…murder-y?” Yasha suggested. “Angry, in any way?”

Caleb’s brow furrowed even further. "No?" he said in complete bewilderment.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Nott asked hesitantly.

He thought for a moment. "Waking up in the middle of the night," he said, and then his frown deepened as he glanced back at the window. "It...it is midday now," he said slowly, and Yasha and Nott nodded.

His mind reached out for answers that were not there. He turned back towards the girls. “What is happening?” he asked. “Why am I tied up?”

“You…er…you tried to kill somebody,” Nott sighed. “That’s why you’re tied up.”

“Was? But…but…I remember nothing of the sort! Who did I attack?”

At the same time Nott quickly said, “Don’t worry about it,” Yasha opened her mouth as well.

“You tried to kill Mollymauk.”

He paled. “Gods, is...is he alright? Why? Where is he? What happened?”

Nott and Yasha exchanged looks again.

“Could you excuse us just one moment?” Yasha asked. Then the two of them turned their backs to Caleb and held their hands up to cover their mouths.

“I think he really doesn't remember,” Nott hissed, slightly not quietly enough.

“I am not that good at reading people,” Yasha admitted at the same volume. “You are sure?”

“I know him pretty well. He’s being completely honest.”

“Then what is happening? I thought the card had changed him to hate Molly?”

“I don’t know,” Nott tugged on her ears in frustration. “I don’t know how any of this crazy magic stuff works. Maybe it was temporary? Maybe it only works when Molly’s around? Caleb is the one who'd always know.”

Yasha sighed. “I do not like this,” she said.

“Er…” Caleb called, “I am telling the truth, I think. I do not know what is going on. Could…could somebody let me know what has been transpiring, perhaps? Why I am tied up like this? And…and is Mollymauk alright? I didn’t hurt him, did I? Where is he?”

The girls turned back around. “You didn’t,” reassured Nott, “he’s alright. He and the others went to go ask Pumat what they think might have happened.”

Caleb breathed a sigh of relief. “I see,” he said.

“I think we should still keep you tied up, just in case,” said Yasha. “We aren’t sure if you’re completely in the clear or not.”

Caleb thought about this for a moment. “Alright,” he conceded. “But could you tell me what I did?”

Nott took another swig of her flask. “You’re not going to like this,” she said.

Chapter Text

“You’d think an all-powerful enchanter and favorite of the Cerberus Assembly would have better penmanship,” Molly muttered as he peered at the paper in his hands. “I can barely read this.”

They moved through the streets of Zadash, weaving between roaming pedestrians and pausing to smile disarmingly at disgruntled and confused-looking Crownsguard, who waved back hesitantly.

“Here,” said Beau, “let me. My teachers always had shit handwriting.”

Molly passed the unfolded parchment over, and Beau examined it closely.

“I think one of them is called Tales,” he offered, “but I have no idea what that means.”

“The Fates,” read Beau.

“Nevermind.”

The monk smirked and kept going. “Upon drawing this card…whoa, fuck, upon drawing this card, reality’s fabric unravels and spins anew, allowing you to erase one event as if it never happened. Must be used before you die. Card vanishes after chosen.”

There was a long pause from the rest of the group.

“O-kay then,” breathed Fjord, giving Beau an impressed look. “Wow, Pumat wasn’t kidding when he said these things were insanely powerful.”

“That’s like…the most power ever,” nodded Jester.

Then she raised an eyebrow. “But…but doesn’t this mean that we could use it? If we picked that one, then we could just make it like Molly never took that card! It would all be fine again!”

Molly bit his lip. Inside, temptation clawed desperately at the knot of worry forming in his chest. “I could undo what I did to Caleb. Whatever it was.”

“That’s true,” Fjord agreed, “but what if altering one thing in the past changes the future drastically? What if something even worse happens?”

“Worse than Caleb trying to kill Molly?” Jester asked, and then stopped short. “Sorry,” she said softly. “That wasn’t so nice.”

Molly gave her a smile. “It’s alright,” he said. “I get what you were trying to say.”

Beau spoke up again. “Remember, though, there’s no guarantee to what card we get. And there’s some pretty nasty cards in here that I hope would never see the light of day.”

“Like what?” Fjord asked.

“Well, here’s a fun one. Flames,” she read. “A powerful devil becomes your enemy, and seeks your ruin and plagues your life. It savors your suffering before attempting to slay you. This enmity lasts until either you or the devil dies.”

Fjord whistled. “Fuck,” he said.

“Oh, wait, there’s more, though. This one’s called The Void. According to Pumat, if you pick it, your soul is drawn from your body, and transported into an object located on another Plane of Existence, guarded by one or more powerful beings which must be defeated in order to return you to your body, which remains in a lifeless, vulnerable, coma-like state while soulless.”

“Well, I think I got lucky with Rogue, then,” Molly said. “That sounds even worse than what we’re dealing with now, I think.”

“Is Rogue on that list?” Jester asked.

“If only we were so lucky,” Fjord sighed.

Beau shook her head. “No, but there’s another one that might actually help. It’s called the Moon, and it grants the bearer the ability to cast the wish spell.”

“The wish spell?” Fjord asked. “What’s that?”

Jester shrugged. “Never heard of it.”

“I don’t exactly know,” Beau said, “but I’ve heard of it before. I know its really powerful, and I think it actually does give the caster the ability to make a wish.”

“And if we could use it,” Molly realized, “we could wish away whatever’s happened to Caleb.”

“Exactly.”

Fjord nodded, but he looked reluctant. “I’d say maybe we can keep that as a Plan B, or maybe a Plan E, in case things really don’t go well. It’s…it’s pretty tempting to pick a card and hope we get one of those, but like Beau and Pumat said, it’s a huge risk. We could end up with something much, much worse on our hands.”

“Plus, maybe it’s not so bad, right now,” Jester volunteered, trying to stay positive. “Caleb is easy to knock out. And maybe it’s already worn off. Maybe everything is fine.”

Caleb put his head in his hands, or tried to as best he could, since his wrists were still bound together.

“I attacked Mollymauk,” he said, voice slightly muffled. “I truly tried to hurt him?”

Nott had her hand on his shoulder. “Yes, but I’m sure you didn’t mean to,” she insisted.

“You are acting quite differently now,” agreed Yasha. “Before, you were very aggressive, and even less up for talking than usual.”

“And you’re certain I didn’t hurt him?”

Nott nodded. “Absolutely. Well, maybe you singed him a bit, but we weren’t there for that part, and he seemed pretty much fine.”

“He is naturally resistant to fire,” added Yasha, “so it could not have hurt that badly.”

“Yes, but it was still flame that I attacked him with.” Caleb gave a short laugh, humorless and bitter. “Gottsverdammt, I cannot believe I continue to hurt my loved ones the same way, every time.”

“You didn’t mean it,” repeated Nott. “It’s the card Molly pulled that made you do it.”

“Definitely,” said Yasha.

“Do you know that for a fact, then?” Caleb muttered. “Do you know if it will happen again?”
The girls paused for a moment.

“No,” Yasha relented. “We do not. That is why the others left the two of us here.”

Caleb nodded into his palm. “Nott, who is always a friendly face, and you, who is very strong and can dispel magics with your sword.”

“I am also quite friendly,” Yasha added, and Caleb chuckled slightly at that.

“Of course,” he said.

“They’ll figure out what’s going on,” Nott said firmly. “And then we’ll undo the curse and everything will go back to normal. Or maybe the curse is already over. You don’t seem so angry anymore.”

“I do not feel angry either,” said Caleb, “but what if that changes? What if suddenly I strike out at Mollymauk once more, or at one of you two? I cannot be trusted alone, now.”

“But you aren’t alone!” said Nott. “We’re here. We’re…we’re babysitting.”

Caleb sighed. “I do not like needing to be watched over, but I appreciate your point.”

“I know your…mental state is…is iffy, but what do you think we should do now?” Yasha asked. “You are the knowledgeable one, you know many things.”

Caleb shrugged. There was a defeated weight to his movements. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’d look for more information about the cards. Bring me to a temple and have the clerics try their own restorations. Never let me out of your sight. If I…if I relapse, or whatever you may call it, and try to attack Molly or anybody else again, leave me behind.”

Nott’s ears flattened. “We’d never do that!” she cried. “We’d never leave you behind.”

Caleb looked up and gave her a weak smile. His face was red, and the corners of his eyes damp. “Thank you, spatz. But now I am a danger to the group. That is how you treat dangers.”

“No,” said Yasha, mildly surprising them both. “We find out whether or not the curse has worn off, and if it has not, we cure you. There is no alternative path.”

Caleb was silent for a moment. Then his expression softened and he nodded. “Thank you,” he said, and turned to Nott as well. “Thank you.”

“Maybe…maybe you should wait in the hallway,” Fjord suggested, “just in case. I’m not…I’m not entirely sure what to expect.”

Molly nodded ruefully. “I get it,” he said. “It’s the smart thing to do.”

“Would you like me to keep you company?” Jester asked.

He shook his head, jewelry jingling softly. “Nah, get in there. Caleb likes you, I’m sure he’d be more cooperative if you were there.”

“He likes you too,” Jester said, and gave him a pat on the hand. “He’s just…confused right now.”

“C’mon,” said Fjord, and turned the doorknob, “the sooner we find out what’s happening, the better.”

The first thing they saw was Yasha, blocking the rest of the room and wearing a slightly panicky look on her face. “Things, er, things might have gotten a little bit more complicated,” she said in a hushed tone.

“What do you mean?” Beau asked, and craned to look over the aasimar woman’s shoulder.

“We think the curse might have worn off, or something,” Yasha explained. “He…he doesn’t remember attacking Molly.”

Fjord’s expression went from surprise, to confusion, to skepticism in about half a second. It was actually rather impressive.

“And you’re sure he’s telling the truth?” he asked. “You’re certain?”

“Nott seems completely sure,” said Yasha.

“She’s biased,” frowned Beau. “She always defends him.”

“But she wouldn’t want him the to stay cursed forever,” Jester argued. “She cares too much for that, and she’s not dumb.”

“I agree,” said Yasha. “And, though I am not the best judge, I also think he is telling the truth.”

They all looked at Fjord, who thought for a moment, then asked, “Jester, you’re sure you’re out of spells still? No secret, extra Zone of Truth in there?”

“None,” she sighed.

He nodded. “Alright, then. Let’s…let’s be wary, but give him the benefit of the doubt, here. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it has worn off.”

“I will stand outside with Mollymauk,” Yasha said, moving past the others and into the hallway.

The first thing they noticed was Caleb’s expression, anxious and troubled, plastered on a face reddened by frustration and tears. He looked towards them as they entered, head jerking upwards like a startled deer down a crossbow shaft. He hastily wiped at his eyes with his sleeve.

Fjord and Beau managed to hang on to their skepticism by a thread. Jester’s heart melted immediately.

“How are you feeling?” she asked softly.

Caleb gave her a weak smile. “I think alright, though in light of recent information? Rather troubled. How is Mollymauk?”

Beau shrugged. “He’s fine,” she said. “Also troubled, I guess, but aren’t we all?”

Caleb breathed a sigh of relief. “Can I see him?” he asked.

Fjord and Beau exchanged looks. Then Fjord pulled a chair from the small table on the side and sat down, straddling it backwards and leaning on his forearms. “I’m not sure that’s the best idea right now,” he said gently. “I assume Nott and Yasha filled you in?”

Caleb nodded. “Apparently I tried to attack him with…with fire.”

“And you called him some really mean things,” Jester said. The guilt in Caleb’s chest doubled.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t…I honestly, completely and truly, do not remember what I said. But I am still very sorry, Jester.”

She nodded, slightly mollified. “It’s not your fault. It was the card.”

“So I have been told. But…but I do not feel cursed, or anything of that nature at the moment. I feel fine, even.”

“He really is normal,” Nott added. “Well, normal-ish. As normal as he usually is.”

“I understand if you do not believe me,” Caleb sighed. “Though at least I would like some more answers? Is what happened because…because of the cards? The Rogue one, that Molly pulled?”

“Probably,” said Beau, “almost definitely. But we don’t know shit for sure.”

“We did learn a bit about some of the others?” supplied Fjord, in an effort to lighten the mood.

“All of them do something different,” said Beau. “There’s one called the Moon, that grants wishes, we think, and another called Flames that sets a devil after you. And, Void, that steals your soul, and Fates, that lets you change one thing that already happened.”

Something in Caleb’s mind went off when she said that.

“It lets you alter the past?”

“Yeah, or something like that. Remember, though, it’s all random chance and you might end up pulling out something crazy that kills you instantly. Or steals your soul.”

Caleb filed that information away for later. “Understood,” he nodded.

“But nothing on Rogue?” Nott asked, bringing the conversation back.

They shook their heads.

Caleb sighed. “So we are still at square one.”

Fjord leaned in, and took a closer look at the wizard. “You really feel alright?” he asked.

Caleb met his gaze. “Yes,” he said. “Completely.”

“So if I asked you what you thought about Mollymauk…?” Beau prompted.

“He is the love of my life,” Caleb said immediately. “And I…I do not enjoy knowing that I have hurt him.”

They all exchanged looks again. The peculiarity of the fact was not lost on any of them, but as far as they could tell, Caleb’s personality had completely reverted from the angry, aggressive attitude of before. He was back to being the usually kind, somewhat melancholy wizard they had grown fond of.

Jester, soul already aching, gave Fjord and Beau a pleading look. “Oh, please?” she asked. “Please, can we bring Molly in?”

Fjord bit his lip. “Alright,” he said, and nodded. “But you won’t mind if we keep your hands tied up, just at first?”

Caleb gave him a weak smile. “Knowing him, Molly might be happy to see me like this,” he said.

“You really think he’s normal again?” Molly asked as Yasha closed the door behind her.

She shrugged, and leaned against the wall. “I think so,” she said. “It is up to the others now to decide.”

“But what did he say?” Molly pressed. “What was he like?”

“He was like his usual self,” she said. “Sort of sad. Mostly quiet. He seemed very upset when we told him what he did to you this morning.”

Molly swore. “I should never have pulled that damn card,” he said. “Now Caleb’s going to feel terrible and guilty for what happened. He’s already got…got issues with loved ones and fire, and now this? Gods, this is going to weigh awfully on him.”

“And what about you?” Yasha asked quietly. “This morning your lover tried to kill you. He called you many things nobody ever should. How are you feeling?”

Molly gave her a charming smile. “I don’t care about me, dear. I’m fine. It’s Caleb that’s going to be destroyed—”

“Mollymauk.”

His shoulders slumped. “Not great,” he admitted. “I know…I mean, I’m sure it’s the cards that were doing the talking, but I didn’t exactly care to hear those words coming out of his mouth.”

“And the fire?”

“Not very pleasant either.”

Yasha nodded, satisfied. “No bullshit with me, Mollymauk.”

He smiled at her again, this time genuine and a little sad. “I know, I know. Thank you.”

“Did Pumat give you any information about the card? A cure, or at least what the exact effects were?”

He shook his head. “No,” he sighed. “We learned a bit more about some of the other ones that exist, and there are two that might be able to help, but gods, most of them are terrible. I’m honestly not sure it’s worth the risk to try and fish them out.”

The two of them stood in silence for a while.

“On a scale from one to ten,” Molly began, “how badly did he react to—”

The door creaked open, and Jester stuck her head out. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said, “but we think Caleb actually is fine now.”

Molly breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank the gods,” he said. “Are you sure?”

Jester bit her lip. “Not entirely?” she said. “Come in, though, we want to check if anything will happen when he sees you.”

Molly nodded. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s do that.”

Molly’s heart broke when he saw the disheveled, tortured expression on Caleb’s face when he walked in and their eyes met. The guilt hanging around the wizard was almost palpable, the frayed rope binding his wrists and ankles a heavy reminder of what had happened earlier, and Molly wanted to reach out and tell Caleb that it wasn’t his fault, it was mine, don’t worry, dear, we’ll fix everything and—

Fjord cleared his throat, and Molly realized he had been speaking out loud.

Caleb gave him a reassuring smile. “Danke, schatz, but so far I think we are alright? I do not feel the sudden urge to attack you, if that is what we are all waiting for.” For the first time in a few hours, there was hope in his voice.

“Maybe you should try touching each other,” Nott suggested. “Just in case.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Molly strode across the room. The entire party watched Caleb’s face with rapt attention as Molly got closer and closer, until one purple, ringed hand reached out brushed the tips of Caleb’s fingers.

“Are you…are you okay?” Molly asked.

“I think so?” Caleb murmured. “I do not feel anything strange.”

Their hands intertwined, and the fear in Caleb’s expression melted into immense relief. Molly’s heart soared.

“How are you now?” Fjord asked.

Caleb smiled slightly. “Wonderful,” he said. Beau made a puking motion in the background, and Jester beamed. Fjord still looked cautious, but significantly more relaxed.

“Can we please untie him?” Nott asked. “I think this is pretty good proof that it’s over, now.”

Beau nodded. “Nobody’s that good of an actor,” she said. “I can’t stand Molly, I know how hard it would be to pretend to love him.”

“Here,” said Yasha, pulling out a dagger and moving closer, “I’ve got it.”

As the ropes fell away and Caleb rubbed his wrists, the group waited to see if anything else would happen. When nothing did, Fjord grinned.

“I still say we keep an eye on you, and do a bit of research to make sure tomorrow,” he said, “but maybe…maybe it did wear off.”

“Welcome back,” said Jester. “I like you better this way.”

Caleb nodded. “I agree,” he said. “I prefer not to be actively trying to injure you,” he added with a glance at Molly.

The tiefling leaned in. “Not unless I ask first, of course,” he grinned, and Beau made more retching sounds.

“Well,” said Fjord, “since now we’re not so worried about…all that, let’s get back on track. I’m gonna head over to the Signet Wall, if anyone wants to come, and we should probably check in with Dolan and the Lawmaster to see what word is on the war. We haven’t been in Zadash for a while, so we mind as well hear what’s up.”

“I would like to go see Pumat,” said Caleb. “Now that I have money, I could use more ink and paper.”

“I’ll come with you,” said Molly.

“So will I,” said Nott and Yasha at exactly the same time.

Caleb sighed. Their intentions were well-placed, if not extremely obvious. “Of course,” he agreed. “The more the merrier, as they say.”

Molly leaned against the headboard and appreciatively watched Caleb bend over to undo his bootlaces. Frumpkin was curled up by the tiefling’s side, purring against the bedsheets as Molly stroked his fur.

“I’m amazed they’re letting us sleep together tonight,” Molly remarked as Caleb placed one shoe at the foot of the bed. “You’d think they would switch back to the old rooming situations. Though I can also guess why they wouldn’t want to.”

Caleb frowned as he turned to his other boot. “I think we should have,” he said. “What if this curse isn’t over? What if I attack you again, or something else awful happens? We have no idea what the effects were, and just because I feel fine now, doesn’t mean we are in the clear.”

“So what do you suggest? We have Nott and Yasha sleep in here too? They’ve been tailing us all day, and I know for a fact that at least one of them is sitting on a stool outside. I saw it on my way in. I was just…I was just looking forward to, you know, some us time.”

Caleb sighed, and looked at Molly. “I would like that also,” he said, “but you must think of the risks. I could have killed you, had the group not intervened and had you been any worse a fighter. I…I have done this sort of thing before,” he added quietly, “and I would prefer it not happen again.”

Molly’s voice softened. “I know, I know,” he said. “I…I know. But I didn’t die?” he tried, and then smacked himself mentally. “I mean, you didn’t actually hurt me. And I know for certain that you didn’t want to, right?”

“Well, yes—”

“So it’s different, now. Sort of. You weren’t completely in control the first time…something like this happened, and you certainly weren’t in control of yourself last night. This morning. I mean, we know for sure, probably, that it was because of these crazy magic cards. And now that you’re back to normal, everything is okay.”

“It sounds so simple when you say it like that,” Caleb said bitterly. “It is not.”

Molly struggled for the right words. He settled on, “I’m sorry, I know. I just…I don’t know what to say to make you feel better.”

Caleb slipped his other shoe off and sat down on the bed. “I’m not sure I deserve to feel better,” he said. “I have done two horrible things, now, both with fire, both to my loved ones, both—as you and Nott always say—that were not my fault. And yet, they still feel like they were.”

Molly shook his head. “Maybe…maybe the first one was, a little bit. I don’t think so, still, I stand by it being the brainwashing of that bastard at the academy, but maybe it was. But the second time? Just now? All my fault. I’m the one who pulled that fucking card when you told me not to, and now you’re suffering for it.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “You are not?”

“Well, I mean, a little bit, but you’re the one that got fucked with the most. It made you do something you didn’t want to. It controlled you. That’s worse than…than knowing I’m the reason why it happened.”

“Is it?” Caleb asked.

Molly looked into his eyes. “When you, the love of my life, is the one being controlled? Of course,” he said. “I’m such…I’m such a bloody idiot. Why did I do that?”

“You didn’t know.”

“So what? I should have bloody well known better. And yes, I didn’t know, so I shouldn’t have done it. That’s just common sense. And now you’re suffering—”

“So are you,” Caleb insisted. “Do not disregard your own emotions here.”

Molly shifted backwards, and his horns clanked against the headboard. “This whole thing was fucking awful,” he sighed. “I don’t really know what else to say.”

Caleb nodded. “I can agree with that, schatz.”

“Hopefully it’s over,” Molly sighed. “I don’t know how much more of this uncertainty crap I can take, and you certainly don’t deserve any of this.”

Caleb also leaned back, and rested his head against Molly’s shoulder. “Let’s just hope we’re out of the thick of it, eh?”

Molly gave Caleb a sideways glance. “Do you want me to kiss you until we forget about all of this?”

Caleb closed his eyes. “I have a perfect memory,” he said. “It might take a bit more than kissing.”

Jester munched on a cinnamon roll as she made her way through the hallway towards hers and Fjord’s room, and passed Yasha, sitting stoically on a barstool that should not have been where it was, right outside of Caleb and Molly’s room. Nott sat on the ground beside her. And across the hall, looking pissed off and defeated, sat Beau, arms crossed and slouched against the wall. Jester surveyed the scene in front of her.

“Is this to make sure Caleb doesn’t kill Molly?” she asked.

“Just in case.” nodded Yasha.

“It’s for the best,” said Nott.

“I’m here ‘cause Yasha’s here,” grumbled Beau.

Jester pulled a blueberry muffin out of the haversack. “Do you guys need any snacks?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Yasha.

“Yes,” said Nott.

“Please, god, and some alcohol too,” said Beau.

Molly’s first thought, just after dawn when the excruciating torture of searing pain and blistering heat wracked his exposed chest, was a wretched, drawn-out curse in Infernal—all hellish syllables and snapping anger and the need to viciously lash out.

Molly’s second thought, as he thrust his hands together for a Blood Maledict, was a fucking-gods-not-this-bullshit-again.

Unfortunately, Caleb must have been feeling uncharacteristically strong tonight. The curse seemed to have no effect and Molly was forced to somersault out of bed and scramble for his scimitars. The wizard, meanwhile, had stood up on the sheets and taken an offensive stance, flames curling around his fingers and spellbook open and glowing in his left hand.

“Are you kidding?!” Molly yelled, and activated the ice on his swords with a sweep across his forearm. “I thought you were fine! You were definitely fine before!”

Caleb didn’t respond, instead settling for sending three spheres of fire, another damn Scorching Ray, hurtling towards Molly, who did his best to use the frost-covered blades to catch the brunt of the inferno and hopefully prevent the extremely wooden room from turning into a flaming deathtrap (which would make this all the more difficult, and likely cause Wessick to become rather upset with them). He feverishly scanned his surroundings for anything he could use to subdue Caleb—more blankets or some rope or something—and was just about to give up and bean his lover over the head with a chair when the door slammed open, another recurring theme in the disastrous parade that had been the last two days of Mollymauk Tealeaf’s life.

Beau came barreling in, didn’t even hesitate before leaping onto the bed and swinging her staff against the back of Caleb’s head, which connected with a resounding, sickening crack.

The wizard collapsed onto the sheets like tree in a thunderstorm. He did not move.

“It’s a good thing he’s got smarts to spare,” said Beau, basking in the adrenaline rush, “because that many head injuries in such a short time can’t be great for you. Get the others, Yasha?” this was to the open doorway as Nott scuttled in. “Especially Jester. I think I hit him a bit too hard. And Fjord’ll want to be here for this. It’s time for round two.”

Molly dropped his swords and slumped onto the floor. “I hate my life,” he muttered. “This is garbage.”

Beau nodded sympathetically. “Hey,” she said, “you could’ve pulled the Void card. At least you’ve still got your soul and stuff.”

Molly raised an eyebrow, and looked at the crumpled lump on his bed. “It’s not my soul I’m worried about,” he sighed.

Nott scrambled over to Caleb and gave him a gentle pat on his now-bleeding head. Then she pulled out a length of rope. “I’m real sorry, Caleb,” she said softly, “I’m real sorry about this.”

This time, with Jester actually rested and spell slots restored, they were able to instantly heal Caleb and mend the damage Beau’s staff had—with good intentions—caused. They propped him up against the footboard of the bed, and all sat on the floor in a semi-circle around him. His arms and legs were tied together, and Molly, remembering the dangers of verbal-only spells like Immolate, dejectedly stuffed a cloth into Caleb’s mouth as well. Morning sunlight filtered in through the window, casting the shadow of Caleb's hair over his eyes. He breathed slowly.

“Last time he woke up normal,” Nott said hopefully. “Maybe it’ll be the same.”

“Yes, but last time we let him go and then just now he tried to kill Molly again,” said Fjord with a glance towards said tiefling, shoulders sagged and face an unreadable mask.

“Let’s just wake him up and go from there,” Molly sighed. “And, I don’t know, hit the Archives afterwards.”

“I can at least use Zone of Truth this time,” Jester supplied.

Fjord nodded. “Wake him up,” he said. “Then cast that, and we’ll get to questioning.”

She leaned across the middle of their semicircle and put a hand against Caleb’s chest. Molly, whose own was now heavily bandaged, felt a twang of pain. He tried to ignore it.

After a brief flash of blue light, Caleb gave a muffled groan, stirred, and opened his eyes.

His expression went from bewilderment, to understanding, to resigned frustration in a matter of seconds. He looked down at the ground.

“I’m going to cast Zone of Truth,” Jester said softly. “Don’t resist, okay? And then we’ll take the gag out.”

Caleb shrugged. She took this as a yes, muttered a few words, and suddenly the room was awash in a silver radiance that faded after a few seconds. Jester opened her eyes, now glowing slightly.

“Fjord and Nott, you shouldn’t resist either,” she chided. “We’ve got to be honest now.”

They both nodded sheepishly. Jester gave them warm smiles, and after a second, motioned her hands in an alright, go on sort of gesture.

Yasha reached over and pulled the gag from Caleb’s mouth. He made a face, and spluttered slightly, but made no move to cast any magic. Mollified, the Nein relaxed slightly. Slightly.

“Caleb?” Fjord asked. “Do you know what’s going on?”

He sighed. “I have a rather good idea,” he said. “I attacked Mollymauk again?”

“Yes,” said Fjord.

Caleb’s gaze moved towards Molly. “Did I hurt you?”

The answer was on the tip of Molly’s tongue, but he managed to bite it back. Unfortunately, the silence was indication enough, and Caleb swore.

“Caleb, do you want to kill Molly?” Nott asked. “Are you mad at him, or are you under a spell?”

“I do not want to kill him, spatz,” Caleb said dejectedly. “I am not mad at him, well, I suppose I am a little upset with him for pulling that card, but not mad enough to want to kill him. And my best guess would be that yes, I am under a spell, but either I cannot know that I am, or currently the magic is not affecting me.”

“Yesterday, after Jester knocked you out and you woke up with Yasha and Nott watching you,” asked Beau, “were you faking normal-ness, and were actually plotting to hurt Molly, or were you genuinely confused?”

“Genuine,” said Caleb. “I was not lying, then. I did not have any ill intention towards Mollymauk. I did not wish to harm him in any way, and I currently do not either.”

“What’s the last thing you remember before all this?” she asked.

“Going to bed for the night,” Caleb said.

“Anything particular you think you should mention about that?”

“Nein,” he said, “it was normal. Nothing was different.”

“Did you two have sex before?” Jester asked.

“Yes,” said Molly, at the same time Caleb reddened and bit his tongue. Fjord gave Jester a strange look.

“Now, why is that a relevant question?”

She shrugged. “Maybe that’s part of the curse. I don’t know, all the cards are weird and specific. I was just covering the bases.”

Yasha looked at Caleb. “Do you feel strange at all, in any way, right now?”

He shook his head, and looked at the rest with a bitter smile. “I do not feel strange in what I believe is the way you are asking, but after knowing that two nights in a row I attacked my Lebensgefährte, I certainly cannot say that all is right with me.”

“Well,” Nott tried, “well at least we know that you aren’t doing any of this on purpose. It’s defintiely something else causing it.”

Caleb wrung his hands. “But what is the point, even?” he asked. “Fault or not, it is still happening, and I cannot be trusted alone anymore. I am hurting my loved ones, all over again, and there is nothing on this gottsverdammt plane I can do about it. We have no information, and no way to fix me.”

Beau, completely out of her depth, tried optimism. “I can go to the library and try to find stuff out there?”

He hung his head. “And if that fails? If we find no answers?”

“Um…” Jester slowly raised her hand. “What if…what if we tried asking the Gentleman?”

There was silence as the group considered this.

“I fuckin’ love that guy’s style,” said Beau, “but I’m not sure this is something we should bring up around him. Especially if he figures out we’ve got a deck.”

“We don’t have any other leads, though,” said Nott, giving a quick glance over to Caleb. “And I want this to be over with.”

Caleb gave a short laugh, still staring at the floorboards, and nodded. “I would as well.”

Molly felt wretched. “If you think there’s even a chance the Gentleman might know what’s going on, I say we risk it. This…this all is my fault. I pulled one of those damn cards even when I shouldn’t have, and now…something’s happened and we don’t even know what.”

“I agree,” said Yasha. “I am willing to go and speak with him.”

“Why don’t you and Nott actually keep staying here,” Fjord suggested with an apologetic look at Caleb that the wizard missed completely, “just in case something changes. The rest of us can go and see what he knows.”

“I’ll head over to the Archive while you’re there,” said Beau. “Caleb, I know you’d usually want to come, but…”

“I will stay here,” the wizard sighed bitterly. “I do not trust myself at the moment either.”

Nott gave him a pat on the hand, and he sighed again.

“I’m sorry,” murmured Molly, not knowing what else to say. “I…I promise, we’ll fix this. I promise. We’ll figure out what’s going on, and…and we’ll fix this.”

Caleb looked up. His eyes were red. “I believe you,” he said quietly. “But please hurry. I do not know how much more of this I can take.”

Molly reached out a hand, but drew it back when Caleb winced. His chest ached.

“Verzeihung,” Caleb whispered, “but maybe it is best we stay away from one another for now. I do not…I do not wish to hurt you.”

I’m hurting you, though, Molly wanted to say. Instead he gave a small, not-very reassuring smile. “I’ll be back in a flash, dear,” he promised. “With answers. I swear it.”

And with that, they left Nott and Yasha sitting in the room with Caleb, wrists still bound, gently scritching the back of Frumpkin’s ears.

“Alright,” said Fjord, tone hushed, “let me do the talking, please? You-know-who is the craftiest sonofabitch we’ve ever met, and I don’t want him catchin’ wind of what we’ve got, alright?”

Molly and Jester nodded. Then they all descended the stairs.

The bustling underbelly of the Evening Nip came into view, lowly-lit and rife with riffraff as always. There was a halfling man tending bar for a group of men and women in leathers, the band had struck up a cheerful, jaunting tune, and the jingling sound of a swinging chandelier meant that Dweez, the mad gnome, was making his usual rounds. And seated at a table in a shaded corner just next to the stairs was a familiar black Tabaxi, nursing a flagon of ale. She looked up as they entered, and a delighted smile appeared across her face.

“Nonagon!” Cree called, and made her way over. Her lime-green eyes glinted in the low torchlight, and she instantly swept Molly up into a hug that he returned somewhat awkwardly.

When they pulled away, she clasped her hands on his shoulders and gave him a good once-over. “Still trying out long hair and flashy tattoos, eh?” she asked jovially. “Not sure it completely suits you, but you’ve always known what’s best, Nonagon.”

Molly matched her cheerful smile. “Thank you, Cree,” he said. “I’ve grown rather fond of this appearance, thankfully, since tattoos aren’t always that easy to remove.”

“Ah, I could always point you out to a few other clerics that wouldn’t mind helping you out there, if you ever change your mind. You’re still over at the Leaky Tap, right? I heard there were strange incidents there, two nights in a row. Are you alright?”

Molly smiled. “Of course, of course. We can handle ourselves. How’d you hear about that? I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“Ah,” Cree winked, and one of her eyes completely vanished in her dark fur. “The Gentleman has ears everywhere. And it’s always news when something happens at the favorite tavern of the Mighty Nein.”

“Sometimes we stay at the Pillow Trove,” supplied Jester, “when we’re feeling fancy.”

“And when we’re feeling like we need a good time, we come here to visit the Gentleman,” smiled Fjord, drawing the conversation back. “Is he here now?”

“Oh, yes,” said Cree. “He’s at the head table right now, I’m sure you’d be able to go up and talk to him.”

“Thank you,” Fjord said, and started to make his way over. Jester trailed behind him and Molly went to follow, but before he could step away, a fur-covered hand shot out and grabbed him by the wrist.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” Cree asked. “I worry about you, Lucien. I thought…I thought you would reach out to the rest of the Tomb Takers by now, but it has been quite some time since we originally spoke. Is the plan still in motion? Is everything going accordingly?”

Molly cranked the bullshit up to 110%. “Of course,” he said smoothly. “And don’t worry, alright? You’d be the first to know if anything changed. Trust me. I’ve got everything under control.”

She released her grip. “If you say so,” she said softly. “I always trust you, Lucien.”

“Thank you, dear. I appreciate that.”

And as he walked back with the others, over his shoulder he could hear Cree call, “Give my regards to your other companions! That tall one, and that scruffy wizard. Charming fellow.”

And Molly turned around to smile and thank her, but she had vanished into the crowd.

“Actually,” said the Gentleman, leaning in closer. “I believe I do know a small amount about this object you are seeking.”

“That’s wonderful news,” said Fjord with a small smile. “We really only heard rumors, and were wondering if such a thing exists in the world.”

“But I can’t imagine this is common chatter, even for accomplished adventurers such as yourselves,” said the Gentleman. “Wherever did you hear these rumors?”

Fjord shrugged. “I can’t seem to recall, at the moment,” he said regretfully, “but I’m sure if we were looking to trade a bit of information, I could think long and hard on it, and remember eventually.”

The Gentleman laughed, and clapped his hands. “Excellent spirit!” he announced. “I will tell you the names of three cards said to exist in the deck, and in exchange, you’ll tell me who let you in on the existence of these items. Fair?”

“Incredibly fair,” agreed Fjord, and shook the man’s hand. He restrained himself from wiping the strange water off of his fingers afterwards.

“The first card I know of,” the Gentleman began, and Jester yanked out her journal and began to write, “is referred to as ‘the Knight.’ It summons a fighter to your service, who will follow you loyally until their death.”

“Until…their…death,” she repeated, and looked up expectantly.

“The next card is the Sun. It improves all of your skills, as if you had faced a year’s worth of battles, and grants you a wondrous magical item. And the last card, the Vizier, allows you to ask a question in meditation within one year of drawing it, and you will receive a truthful answer, or the gift of wisdom, in regards to your question.”

He leaned back and folded his fingers. “And the name?” he prompted.

“The enchanter, over at the Invulnerable Vagrant,” Fjord said. “But you’d best be careful around him. He’s a powerful man, and a friend to the Assembly.”

The Gentleman nodded, and beamed. “Thank you,” he said smoothly. “I hope this information helps you. And swing by, if you ever find one of these decks. I’d be willing to pay a handsome, handsome sum for them. And you would win quite a bit more of my favor than you already possess, which would come more in handy than gold or fame.”

Fjord nodded. “Thank you for your time,” he said, standing up, “and for that generous offer.”

“Guten morgen,” said Caleb, enunciating carefully.

“Gu-ten, mor-gen,” Nott repeated, brow furrowing slightly in concentration. “Was that better?”

"It was excellent."

“I thought they sounded exactly the same,” said Yasha, working a polish into her greatsword. “You are like a natural, Nott.”

The goblin beamed, and Caleb allowed himself a small smile.

“Now that you have mastered Zemnian, we should try Celestial,” said Yasha. “I am sure with two teachers it will be much better.”

“Ja,” shrugged Caleb hands still bound. “I have nothing else to do. Nott, how is your singing voice?”

Among the towering shelves of the near-silent Archive, curved walls and mile-high bookshelves filled with the knowledge of the ages, home now to only the muted shuffling of paper, light footsteps of the monks, and softly scratching quills of scribes and scholars, a glorious institution of the keeping of knowledge and the worshipping of the Knowing Mistress, Beauregard the sometimes-monk kicked her chair over in excitement, leapt onto the desk, and screamed, to the complete and utter shock and horror of the other Archive-browsers, and the other monks, who painfully noted she was wearing their uniform and unfortunately therefore a member of their order.

She punched a fist into the air. “I’m a golden god!” she yelled. “I’m the best damn monk in the world!”

She made eye contact with a scribe, cowering in his chair.

“Quick, give me your paper,” she said hurriedly, “and some ink, quickly, before the stupid, uptight novices kick me out.”

“The Deck of Many Things,” read Beau, standing on a chair in Caleb and Molly’s room, as the rest of the Nein watched on with equal parts exasperation, equal parts anticipation, Caleb hanging onto her words like a lifeline.

“Usually found in a box or leather pouch, each deck contains a number of cards engraved with glyphs, characters, and sigils. Long sought after by all from the lowliest beggar, to the richest of kings, these cards hold the power to destroy lives or forge new destinies of wealth, power, and fame. Our party stumbled across one such item last spring, and only now have we gathered the courage to draw one…”

She trailed off, skimming through the rest of the copied notes. “Basically, at that point, the Wizard pulled one out, the Key, and all of a sudden a magical glaive appeared in his hand and everybody started freaking the fuck out. And then the Barbarian got jealous, and grabbed the deck, he also got a magical weapon when he pulled the Sun, and the author was like ‘fuck it,’ I want one too, and guess what he pulled.”

“Rogue?” Jester asked.

“Exactly.”

“So what happened?” Nott asked, tapping impatiently on her knee. “What did Rogue do?”

“At first? Absolutely nothing. They were disappointed, and the whole party just sort of gave up and stopped drawing cards. But the author was worried, ‘cause he was a bard, and he’d heard of these before, and he knew that each card did something, and it was suspicious that this one didn’t seem to do anything. And then the journal just sort of goes on on for a long time talking about the rest of their adventures or whatever.”

“So we still have nothing?” Disappointment weighed heavy on Caleb’s face.

“Oh, we've got plenty,” said Beau, and pulled another piece of paper out of her pocket. “A year later, their adventuring group decided to part ways for a little while and relax. The bard went back to his hometown to visit his parents and his siblings, and that night, when he was in bed, his mother appeared at the door. He didn’t move, because he figured she was just checking in on him, but then suddenly she strode over to his bed and stabbed him through the hip.”

“Motherfucker,” said Fjord, and blinked. “Gods, was he alright?”

“He wrote the book,” said Beau, rolling her eyes, “of course he was alright. Otherwise I wouldn’t be reading this.”

Jester gave Fjord a pat on his shoulder, and he sighed.

“What happened then?” Molly asked. “What happened after that?”

“He managed to hold her off, since he was a powerful bard or whatever, and told the rest of his family what had happened, and realized that finally, finally the Rogue card must have shown its effects. And his father was a very pious man who loved his wife, and the town’s cleric to the Dawnfather, so he prayed to his god, and apparently the Dawnfather told him that she had been cursed for almost a year now, from the card. But that because of the father’s decades of loyal service and shit, he would lift the curse from her. And that was the end of it.”

“So we must go to a god, then, and ask for answers?” Caleb asked.

Yasha shifted uncomfortably. “None of us but Beau worship…legal gods, in these lands. There is no temple to the Stormlord we could visit, or to the Moonweaver, or to the Traveler. And Beau, you are not exactly the most devoted follower of the Knowing Mistress.”

“I honestly forgot you were affiliated,” Molly mused.

“I think she frequently forgets that also.”

Beau scowled. “I don’t really buy into religion like that,” she said. “I’m a free agent. Usually.”

“And I could still try praying to the Traveler,” Jester suggested. “He is very powerful, you never know.”

“Are gods the only way out of it?” Fjord asked. “Are we certain?”

Beau waved her page of notes. “There is another way, the author finds out later, where a wish spell can also reverse the effects of Rogue. Which, in case it wasn’t clear, are where somebody is permanently turned against you.”

Caleb frowned. “But I am not turned permanently against Mollymauk,” he said. “You all know, we proved it with Zone of Truth. Right now I am fine.”

Nott nodded. “Yeah, it’s not always. Just in the mornings, apparently.”

“I will ask the Traveler tonight,” Jester said. “I am sure he will have answers for us.”

Molly fidgeted with his sleeve. “We could…we could also try pulling another card,” he said slowly. “We know there’s one that grants wishes, we’d just—”

“Nein,” said Caleb sternly. “No chance. There are still twelve cards in that deck, and there is only one of that card. And given the horrible things that the other ones do, I will not let you take that risk.”

“But you’re cursed,” snapped Molly, more harshly than he’d intended. “You keep trying to kill me, two mornings in a row, now, and there’s nothing else we can do about it! I don’t want you to hurt like this! I know it’s destroying you to not be in control of your own actions, and to be forced to do this, so fuck the bloody risks and let me help you! I hate seeing you like this! Especially because it was my damn fault!"

Molly stared at him, breathing heavily. Caleb looked down at the floorboards.

“This is already bad enough,” he said softly. “If I lost you as well, it would be unbearable.”

Molly instantly felt terrible. “I…fuck,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

The rest of the party looked around the room awkwardly.

“Should we…um…should we leave you two alone, then?” Fjord suggested.

“No,” said Caleb resignedly, “no, I still need to be watched over. But if somebody could fetch me a book, that would be nice.”

“I’ll do that,” said Nott, and scuttled out of the room.

“I’m gonna go back to the Archive and research wish spells now,” said Beau. “Fjord, wanna come?”

He nodded. “Yasha, and Nott when she gets back, you two okay with staying on…on…Caleb-duty?”

“Yes,” said Yasha. “I can use this time to see if the Stormlord is listening. And we are still in the middle of Celestial lessons with Nott. Her singing is enthusiastic, but not very good.”

Molly gave Caleb a wretched look. “I…would you like me to stay?”

“I would,” he said with a bitter smile, “but it is probably safer that you did not.”

Molly nodded. “I’ll come back in a few hours,” he said, and turned to Jester. “Want to…I don’t know, want to find some pastries with me?”

She took his hand gently. “I know a great place,” she said.

Chapter Text

Molly bit dejectedly into a scone. Across from him, on the other side of the table, Caleb offered Frumpkin a small piece of bread.

“So I take it that us going the magic-route is out of the question, then?” Fjord asked, pushing his and Beau’s notes away.

“It was a desperate chance,” Beau said. She was sitting sideways on the bench, back against Yasha’s shoulder, picking at a blueberry muffin.

Caleb looked at them helplessly. “I cannot think of a single person I know who would be capable of casting Wish if it is that powerful, let alone one who would actually help us. I am sure there exist such individuals in the world, but a ninth-level spell? That is not something to give away lightly. Especially not to a ragtag bunch such as ourselves.”

“Do you think you could ever learn it?” Nott asked.

“I cannot begin to know,” Caleb sighed. “It would take years to achieve that level of skill, and then I would need to actually get my hands on the spell, which I am sure is locked up and in the possesion of the Academy.”

“What are the odds that Pumat could do it?” Jester asked. “Like…forty percent? Thirty-five percent?”

Caleb shook his head. “He told us he needed to pull favors from the assembly to make his simulacra, a still-complicated, but less advanced spell than Wish. He likely could not help us in this instance.”

“You don’t think he’d be willing to pull some more favors to help us out, do you?” Beau asked.

“Even if he would,” Fjord said, “we’d have to tell him why we needed it. And that would mean letting him know that we have a Deck of Many Things, and that we did pull a card out, and that it backfired like you wouldn’t believe. And if he was going to ask the Assembly for help, they’d probably want to take it from us then.”

“Which would suck,” sighed Jester, waving her bear claws around. “And probably get us into trouble, somehow.”

“I also would like to limit my interactions with the members of that particular group,” Caleb added quietly. “Especially if there is no guarantee of their assistance.”

“I did not like the way Ikithon looked at me before,” said Yasha. “I want to avoid him.”

Nott and Beau nodded emphatically.

“So I guess this means we’re trying our gods, then,” Molly sighed. “I hope the Moonweaver’s feeling generous tonight.”

“The Traveler is always generous,” said Jester loyally. “I’m sure he’ll help.”

Yasha glanced out the window, where dark clouds were beginning to roll in against the pink sunset sky that hung over the city of Zadash.

“There is a storm coming tonight,” she said softly.

Fjord reached for a croissant. “Here’s hoping."

Caleb shook his head. “Not hoping,” he sighed, “praying.”

Jester’s fingers wove deftly through Yasha’s hair.

“You are going to look so pretty,” she beamed as she braided, “I miss doing this!”

“I as well,” Yasha agreed. “It has been a while."

"Now we just need Nott."

Beau, on the other side of the bed, rubbed her chin. “Do you think we could kidnap a wizard to make them cast the spell for us?”

“Probably not,” said Jester. “If they’re that powerful, they probably would be hard to kidnap.”

“What if we paid them a million gold?”

Yasha raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a million gold?”

Beau sighed. “No.”

Jester shrugged. “It’s okay. I don’t even think my mom has a million gold.”

“I think perhaps we should focus on the divine option here,” suggested Yasha. “It seems like magic will not help, in this instance.”

Beau sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.” She shoved her notes into her pocket and balled her hands up in frustration. “I just hate not being able to do anything.”

“You did quite a lot already,” Yasha said gently. “You are the reason we know what we are asking the gods for, now.”

“Yeah, but now I’m useless. I can’t help anymore.”

“You could try praying to the Knowing Mistress?” Jester suggested. “She might want to help.”

Beau scoffed. “I don’t know the first thing about talking to gods. I think I’ll leave it up to you two.”

Then her shoulders sagged, and she flopped down onto the mattress. “I’m gonna sleep now,” she said, closing her eyes. “Wake me up if anything interesting happens.”

The other two watched in silence as slowly, her breathing slowed to a quiet whisper.

Then Yasha shifted slightly and said, casually, “Jester, we have not shared a room in quite some time.”

“Yeah, it has been a bit, hasn’t it?”

Yasha nodded. “Do...do you miss us at all?”

The tiefling looked affronted by the question. “Of course!” she exclaimed. “Of course I do! But it must be nice to spend some time with Beau now, right?”

“Yes,” she agreed. “It is rather nice.”

“What’s Beau like when you two are alone?”

“Kind,” said Yasha. “Not exactly well-spoken, and still rather abrasive, but kind.”

“That’s really cute,” whispered Jester. “You know, Beau was the first person I roomed with where I never felt lonely.”

“Really? What do you mean?”

“Well…before, when I lived with my mother, there were people all over the house all the time. But I never got to talk to any of them. And my mother always visited me, but even then I felt like I was alone.”

“Why? She was there with you, was she not?”

Jester shook her head. “Sometimes, you can feel lonely even where there are other people around. Even when there are a million people everywhere. You just feel alone. But when I shared a room with Beau, and we talked all night, even if she was annoyed at me for talking too much, or just wanted to go to sleep, I never felt unwanted. She was just there, you know?”

Yasha considered this. In front of her, the monk stirred slightly in her sleep.

“Yes,” she said. “I think I do.”

Nott followed Caleb out of Molly and Fjord’s room, empty now as the two men were cleaning up for the night in the washrooms.

“Are we gonna be unprotected when we sleep, then?” she asked worriedly. “Because if you want, even though we don’t usually do this at inns, I can take first watch. You probably need the rest.”

Caleb ruffled her hair. “You’ve done plenty of watching over me these last few days, spatz. It will be fine. Frumpkin can keep lookout.”

“Right, and I’m still gonna trap the doors, too? Just in case?”

“Of course. And actually, could you trap the inside as well for me?”

Nott frowned. “Why?”

“I…I am still slightly worried that something might happen and I might go after Mollymauk again. If you trap the inside, it’ll slow me down, and give you a chance to wake up and warn the others.”

“But…but…I don’t want to hurt you,” she protested, “what if—”

Caleb gave her another pat on the head. “I would rather be physically injured than have to know I hurt Mollymauk again. Besides, we have an all-powerful cleric who can heal surface wounds. I am not certain she really knows how to make people’s minds feel better. At least, not yet."

Nott sighed, and nodded. “Alright, Caleb, if that’s what you really want. You know best.”

He smiled at her. “Thank you, spatz. Let us hope it will not be needed.”

“Been a while since we’ve roomed together, eh?” Molly grinned, collapsing onto the bed. On the floor, Fjord flattened out his bedroll.

“It has,” the half-orc agreed. “I sort of missed it.”

“You flatter me,” laughed Molly, pressing a hand over his heart. “I couldn’t nearly have been as entertaining of a roommate as Jester. I mean, we aren’t even sharing a bed.”

Fjord’s face reddened. “Mollymauk—”

“Don’t worry! I promise I’ll do my very best to keep you occupied. However, I will have to draw the line at physical intimacy. Handsome as you are, I’m pretty sure our respective partners would kill us in our sleep if we tried any of that fun stuff.”

Fjord sighed, and lay down on the bedroll.

Molly swung his head over the side of the bed to grin at Fjord. “Actually, my partner is already trying to kill me in my sleep, so I guess I don’t have anything to lose. Oh, but there’s still Jester to worry about, isn’t there?”

Fjord put his face into the pillow. “I take it back,” he groaned, “I don’t miss you.”

“You wound me, sir.”

“Don’t you gotta pray to your goddess or something tonight?”

Molly’s grin faltered slightly. “I…I guess, yes.”

This change in tone was enough to make Fjord turn and face the tiefling. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “I thought you two were tight.”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “It’s not…it’s not like that. I mean, Jester—and I could be wrong, but I don’t think I am—Jester is the only follower of the Traveler. That means she’s extremely important to her deity. And she’s always drawing, and every drawing is a communion, right? Plus, he apparently speaks back to her all the time. And Yasha, Yasha says the Stormlord personally saved her from hell, and she’s obviously ridiculously devoted to him. Plus she’s got the whole, divine ancestry thing going on, so that must make her very special. But I…I’m an infernal-blooded outsider who only just found out about the Moonweaver. And I’ve never been to a temple for her, and I’ve never gone to a sermon about her, I’ve never done anything in her name, and I don’t even know her history. I just talk to the air, and hope she’s listening.”

“So why do you follow her, then?”

“I like what she stands for.”

“And what’s that?”

Molly closed his eyes. "Seize your own destiny by pursuing your passions,” he recited. "Let the shadows protect you from the burning light of fanatical good and the absolute darkness of evil. Walk unbridled and untethered, finding and forging new memories and experiences.”

Then he paused and added, “She’s also considered the deity of love and illusions. And, according to the book I found, she’s the protector of evening trysts.” He wiggled his eyebrows, but hesitated when he saw the grin across Fjord’s face.

“What’s got you smiling so much?”

Fjord shook his head, and turned over on the bedroll. “I don’t think you need to worry about not being good enough,” he said. “I think you’re doing just fine.”

“Er…thank you?”

“Goodnight, Molly,” came the reply. “Good luck talkin’ to your goddess.”

“Traveler? Are you listening? Haha, of course, I’m being silly, of course you’re listening.”

“I am here tonight because I seek your guidance.”

“I know…I know I haven’t been your worshipper for very long, and I’m not exactly the most pious person out there. I mean, I’ve never left you offerings before, or donated to your temples before, though I promise if the Empire ever un-bans you, I’ll definitely stop by and leave you the biggest damn gift I can. But as for now…”

“If…if you aren’t busy, do you think you could help me? One of my friends, the dirty wizard with the cat, you know him, we think there’s something super wrong with him. He’s been sort of acting crazy these last few days, and remember those cards I showed you in my journal? We’re…pretty sure one of those cursed him.”

“Of course, we do not know this for certain.”

“That’s why I was hoping maybe, just maybe you’d be able to help? Tell us if it's hurting him, and how we should undo it, or maybe, if you might be inclined to, you could send a bit of divinity our way to break him free?”

“He’s super nice, even though he can be grumpy sometimes. And I really like spending time with him and hanging out with him. He likes to read a lot of books, and he has the cutest little kitty. He’s super-duper smart, and he knows a lot about everything. And he’s my friend, you know? I care about him.”

“Also, though he may not seem it, he is extremely powerful. I know he does not serve you, but he is a strong ally, and a formidable opponent in his own right. His magical skills exceed anything I have ever witnessed, and he has proved himself a mighty warrior. He once took down a Hill Giant with a single spell, and brought us victory in this city. He also…he also lives by your teachings. He does not battle to spread chaos or instill violence, but because it is necessary. He fights to protect his friends, and to prove himself.”

“And he’s a rather brilliant mind. Actually, him and his goblin friend have a thousand tricks that I think you’d be rather pleased with. All of them are cons, and it’s marvelous. And…well…and he’s the love of my life. He is beyond dear to me. He’s my dream in the moonlight, you know? And I don’t…I don’t want to see him suffer like this. It was my bloody fault that all of this happened, and I can’t stand not knowing how to fix it. I don’t…I don’t know much more of this we can take.”

“Soooo…if you think you could help—”

“If indeed he has proved himself—”

“If I have ever done anything right in your name, could you please consider—”

Molly’s entire body went rigid.

He was frozen in place, legs unable to uncross and hands held firmly in their folded position on his lap. His chest was rendered immobile, his tail held against the sheets, his neck completely locked up and still. From his position facing the window on the opposite wall where beyond, the midnight rooftops of Zadash gleamed under the stars, he could just make out a dull, blue-green glow on the left of his periphery. But try as he might, his paralyzed body would not budge the single inch that would have allowed him to see more.

And then came Fjord’s voice. But the half-orc’s usual slow drawl was replaced with an odd, weirdly proper accent, similar to the ones touted about by high-born or highly educated Empire elite.

“Gods, finally.”

Molly could not speak. The only thing that came out of his mouth was a hard, wordless noise of anger and confusion.

“Your friends are rather clever, you know? I forget which one of them suggested it, but it actually was a rather good idea to use Hold Person on you. Now you can’t fight back. Or call for help.”

Molly’s mind raced. Fjord didn’t sound right, and spoke as if he wasn’t included among Molly’s friends, which, ouch, but also raised a million red flags. And as he tried again to form words in any capacity, he realized that, indeed, he needed much more muscle control to properly shout for the others.

“I thought it would be worse to have the wizard turn against you, at first. The heartbreak alone could have destroyed you, as I’m sure it almost did. After all, I’ve seen the way you both behave at the tavern, hanging off of one another like lovesick adolescents. Even though…even though you always disapproved of that sort of behavior before.”

Before? What before?

“But then it turns out the idiot, though he can cast every damn fire spell on this plane, has nothing useful for eliminating you quietly as well as painfully. Gods, was he useless. And weak. That dolt couldn’t pin you down, or properly carve you to bits like you deserved. It only took one hit from that other one you insist on hanging around to bring him down.”

Rage began to build behind Molly’s eyes. Not-Fjord was speaking about Caleb. Not-Fjord had been controlling Caleb? Not-Fjord was talking about Caleb like some discarded object.

Not-Fjord was going to die.

“But this one? Oh, this one has it all! Magic and practice with a sword. When you all decided to change rooms and you went with this one, oh, I knew I couldn’t waste this opportunity.”

And now the eerie, blue-green light came into view as Not-Fjord stepped in front of Molly, grinning widely with his falchion in one hand, channeling magic through the other. He took a step forwards, and leveled his weapon right between Molly’s eyes.

“I don’t know why I ever chose to follow you. I thought you were going to change the world. But instead, all I have is the misery you’ve caused me, all the pain of abandonment and the fear of being left for nothing, of being used so you could achieve your stupid goals.” He sighed, and brought the sword closer. “Oh, I could kill you so easily. One quick stab, and it would all be over.”

Molly tried to lean back, do anything to save himself, but the arcane powers binding him in place forced him to be still and watch as Not-Fjord lowered the falchion, angled it over his chest

“But that’s more than you deserve. I'm going to tear your body to shreds and rip your heart from your chest and feed you to the worms. I'm going to make this as slow as possible. You need to writhe from pain and agony like I did, these long, long years. You need to suffer as I have. You need to feel what I felt. Oh, I was blind for so long. But now I have seen the truth of it, and you are going to pay for what you did to me, Lucien.”

Realization reared its ugly head.

Oh, fuck, thought Molly.

And then Fjord, driven on by the terrifying thrall of blood magic in vengeful hands, took another step forward.

A shrill ringing exploded from a strand of silver thread, lying on the ground.

Caleb jolted out of bed and practically threw Nott at the door to their room.

“Unlock it!” he shouted, grabbing at his component pouch and frantically scrabbling for some copper wire. “Unlock, quick, unlock it now! Something is happening in Mollymauk’s room! Quickly, quickly!"

Chapter Text

The Alarm Spell suddenly going off was enough to startle Not-Fjord out of his concentration on Hold Person, giving Molly the six seconds he needed to tackle the other man to the ground and send the falchion spiraling across the floor in a spray of saltwater. He pinned the half-orc’s wrists against the floor, knelt on his chest, and this time, remembering the searing heat of Caleb’s verbally-conjured Immolate two nights before, wrapped the flat, spade-like tip of his tail across Fjord’s mouth.

“Listen here, you cowardly piece of shite,” Molly hissed, fangs bared and his eyes glowing with rage. “You are going to tell me where you are and how you’re controlling my good friend Fjord, here, and then maybe, just maybe, we’ll consider letting you off easy. But keep coming after us like this, keep hiding in the shadows, and when we find you, we’re going to rip your clever little head off your shoulders without a second thought, understood? You’re Cree, aren’t you? You know me, then, and you know what I’m capable of. I will find you.”

There was a dark, muffled laugh from the half-orc on the ground, and Molly carefully brought the end of his tail away.

Not-Fjord’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe you will, Lucien. But your friends are going to keep suffering until you do.”

And then, for the third night in a row, the door to Molly’s room burst open. It actually splintered from the force of Yasha’s shoulder, and now she stood in the doorway, shrugging off jagged bits of wood and hefting her sword in a cold rage. Beau skidded to a halt beside her, staff at the ready, Jester appearing next with her fists balled and radiating dark, necrotic energy. Then came Nott, teeth bared and crossbow loaded and just behind her, eyes completely engulfed with anger, stood Caleb, hands blackened and curling with flame.

Not-Fjord glanced up at Molly, and then at the rest of the Mighty Nein, and sighed.

“Fine,” he said. “Be that way.”

And then his eyes closed, and Fjord’s head fell back against the ground. For a moment, they all watched with baited breath. But he continued to lie there, completely still.

“Well,” Beau tried after a couple beats of silence, “at least it wasn’t Caleb this time.”

They didn’t bother tying Fjord up, since Molly had a strong suspicion that they wouldn’t need to anyways. Instead, they propped him against the foot of the bed and watched Jester perform a medical inspection to make sure he was alright.

“Good use of that alarm spell,” Molly grinned to the wizard leaning against his shoulder.

Caleb, quietly ecstatic at their first touch in over a day, smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “It actually was intended for me, in case…in case I had gone after you last night. But it served a different purpose, in the end.”

“You’re just real smart,” Nott said cheerfully. “We wouldn’t have been able to save Molly without it.”

“But what exactly did we save you from, then?” Yasha asked. “Why was Fjord the one attacking you?”

“Yeah,” Beau nodded, gesturing towards Caleb, “aren’t you the one cursed to hate Molly?”

Molly ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t, er, I don’t actually think Caleb is the one being affected by Rogue, anymore.”

Beau frowned. “You think it changed targets? You think it’s Fjord, now?”

“Well…no, actually. I think it might have been somebody else, all along.”

Yasha sighed. “Elaborate, Mollymauk.”

“Of course, dear. When…when he was trying to kill me before,” Molly explained, “our lovely half-orc friend said a lot things that didn’t make sense. He treated me as if I were somebody else, firstly, someone who he knew from the past but not anymore. Like we hadn’t been travelling together as the Mighty Nein this whole time. And he referred to you all as my friends, not our friends, and said he regretted following me, which Fjord—our more-or-less, weird sort-of leader—definitely never did. And…well…he called me Lucien. Which nobody except—”

“Cree,” breathed Caleb as realization dawned. “that tabaxi woman working for the Gentleman, you think she was the one originally affected by Rogue?”

“And she was controlling Caleb and Fjord,” Nott added, “to attack you?”

Molly nodded. “It fits the bill, doesn’t it? It must have been her, and since the card ‘permanently’ turns someone I know against me, it would make sense if the whole time she was behind all the attacks. From you before, and then the one tonight.”

Caleb closed his eyes and sank back against Molly. “It was not me, after all.”

Nott looked almost as relieved as he did.

Jester frowned. “But…but how is she doing it? How was she making Caleb do things before, and how did she control Fjord?”

Yasha beat Molly to the answer.

“The Gentleman has our blood,” she sighed. “Cree must have taken it and must have been using it to control them.”

“Can she do that?” Beau asked, raising an eyebrow. “Is that a thing?”

Molly shrugged. “Maybe? As far as I’ve gathered, everyone from…from I guess the order—or whatever it was she and Lucien belonged to—they all have weird blood powers.”

Caleb nodded. “And, remember, she was the one who initially extracted our blood on the day we met the Gentleman. We have all seen many strange things in our time together. I would not be surprised if…if remotely controlling us that way is a possibility.”

“Blood is powerful,” agreed Yasha. “That is why I did not want to give mine up, initially.”

Nott shot a suspicious look at Molly. “Can you do that? Can you control people?”

He gave her a bright smile. “No idea,” he said. “I’ve literally never gone around collecting people’s blood to see if I could or not, but if you’re volunteering I’d be more than happy to give it a try.”

She glared at him and, despite the mood, stuck her tongue out. He stuck his out back.

“If Mollymauk’s theory is true,” Caleb said, refocusing the group, “it means that it is possible Cree could control any of us. We did, each of us, hand over blood, did we not? It is not just me and Fjord that might turn, now it is any of us.”

There was a moment of silence, at that revelation.

“Do…do you think she can control more than one at a time?” Nott asked. “What if…what if a half of us attack the rest, how are we supposed to handle that?”

Molly rubbed his chin. “I don’t think she can,” he said. “It seems like she can only have the one…the one puppet, I guess, at a time. Otherwise why would she only attack me when I’m alone? If she could control all of us at once, I’m sure she would have done it by now. I’m…I’m just glad she never tried to possess me directly and, well, you know.”

“We would’ve stopped you,” Jester said firmly. “We would have right away,” and Caleb nodded as well.

He gave them thankful smiles.

“Nobody can go anywhere alone until this is settled then,” said Yasha. “We must have eyes on each other constantly, and the second any of you feel anything strange, or if any of us notice weird behavior in the group, we need to speak up immediately. Constant vigilance, until we find her.”

Beau nodded. “Do we have any leads on where she could be? Does her control have…have a range or something?”

They all looked at Caleb, who sighed.

“I have no idea how it works,” he said. “Blood magic is tricky, and we do not even know if it really is magic, exactly. It could be a divine ability, or an object she is using, or a patron lending her strength, or something else entirely. There is no way for me to guess.”

“And you don’t remember anything about this, at all?” Beau asked Molly.

He shook his head. “Believe me, if I did, I would’ve mentioned it sooner.”

“Then we need to focus on finding Cree,” said Yasha. “So we can end this as quickly as possible.”

Jester’s eyes widened suddenly. “Wait, wait…we aren’t going to kill her, are we?” she asked.

“No, no,” Molly said quickly, “of course not. We…we just need to make sure she won’t keep coming after us.”

“How?” Jester asked. “How are we going to do that?”

“We, er, we subdue her,” said Molly. “We take the blood away, and if that doesn’t work, we…”

He trailed off, and Yasha gave Jester a solemn nod. “If that does not work, then we will kill her.”

“But…but she is being controlled by Rogue, right?” Jester pressed. “We can’t just do that! She’s…she doesn’t want to hurt Molly. We’ve seen her a bunch of times before at the Evening Nip, and she’s always so friendly and nice to you! We can’t just…we can’t just kill her for something she is not even doing on purpose.”

Caleb bit his lip. “But what if we have no choice? We cannot cast the Wish spell that would free her, and, unless you are waiting to tell us, praying did not work. Er…I mean that as kindly as possible,” he hastily added.

“You don’t know if it didn’t work or not,” Jester said defensively. “None of us do, yet.”

“Jester,” Beau said, “Fjord was still attacking Molly after you ended the prayer. I don’t think—”

“I was interrupted!” she snapped. “We had to go save Molly and Fjord, Yasha knows, right?”

Yasha gave a reluctant nod. “I was not finished either,” she said. “I do not know if the Stormlord heard me. But I…I can try again tonight,” and Jester nodded her emphatic agreement.

“But Cree is out there now,” said Nott worriedly. “I don’t…I don’t think we can wait that long.”

Jester’s shoulders sagged. “I know,” she muttered. “I know, but I don’t want to have to kill somebody. Especially when I am sure the Traveler would help us.”

Molly gave her a kind look. “I understand,” he said softly. “And I’m quite glad one of us here has a heart, and that you’re willing to ask your god for help on a problem that I created. Let’s…let’s just try and find Cree first, and maybe we can tie her up and figure it out from there. Does that sound alright?”

After a moment, Jester nodded.

“Is that alright with the rest of you?”

There was a chorus of agreement.

“How does Fjord look? Can he travel?”

“He’s fine,” Jester said. “I can wake him up whenever.”

Molly gave her a tired grin. “Then please, do that, dear. Let’s get him on his feet, and fill him in. There’s a tabaxi we’ve got to go see. Now.” 

The streets of Zadash were slick with rainwater, and the storm pounded mercilessly down on its cobbled roads. The few pedestrians in sight all wore thick cloaks and heavy boots and walked swiftly and purposefully towards their destinations. Rumbling thunder occasionally shook the sky and the looming, dark clouds above made the city feel cold and grey. This was not weather to be outside.

The Nein stood in the rain by the door to Leaky Tap.

“Where are we even supposed to start looking?” Beau raised her voice to be heard over the storm, draped her robe over her head in a fruitless attempt to stay dry.

“This city is huge,” grumbled Nott. Her hood was pulled down across most of her face, and she looked absolutely miserable.

“We should try the Nip,” suggested Fjord. “That’s where we saw her last, right?”

“She’ll probably have run somewhere else by now,” Molly sighed, “but that’s as good a place as any to start.”

“A loose lead is better than none,” said Caleb, and with a nod, they all set off towards the Interstead Sprawl.

“Actually, I was hoping you all would stop by and visit,” grinned the Gentleman, arms spread in a welcoming sweep and motioning for them to take a seat. “I have a bit of information you may be interested in, and a proposal of sorts. Oh, and Kara,” he added, turning to the side, “can you be a dear and fetch some towels? Our guests are absolutely soaking.”

“Do you need a towel too?” Nott asked, never missing an opportunity.

He ignored her, and nodded at the rest as they all—except for Yasha, who stood to the side—sat down at his elevated table in the back of the tavern. Kara emerged a few seconds later, carrying an armful of dry towels that the Nein accepted gratefully.

“You mentioned you had something to tell us?” Fjord asked once they had gone from soaking to soggy.

“Indeed.” The Gentleman laced his fingers together and leaned in. “Do you all recall the tabaxi woman in my employ? Cree? I believe she was familiar with you,” he glanced at Molly, who nodded reluctantly.

“We remember,” said Caleb. “What about her?”

“Well, as it happens, it appears she’s run off. Of course, I don’t expect members of my troupe to be at the tavern all the time, and I certainly don’t need to constantly know where they are or when they leave, but I do care when they take my property with them.”

“She stole something from you?” Beau asked.

“Not just me, my dear, but from all of you as well.”

There was a pause, likely for effect, before the Gentleman spoke again.

“This morning, Cree left in quite a hurry, saying she had somewhere important to be. And I thought nothing of it, until two hours ago, when Sorah was running a routine check of our…inventory, and noticed that something was missing from one of my most precious safes. A small wooden box, filled with seven little vials of blood.”

Molly’s stomach sank. Sometimes he hated being right.

“So,” the Gentleman continued, “you can imagine my frustration when I put two and two together and realized that my formerly-trustworthy employee so skilled in the sanguine arts must have taken the vials with her. I want them back. I have a feeling you all do as well.”

“Do you happen to know where Cree is, right now?” Fjord asked. “Where she might’ve gone?”

“As it happens, I do.” The Gentleman smiled magnanimously. “Some of my men posted outside the city spotted her heading towards the woods in the east. We used to have a smuggling route there, before we finished mapping out the underground rivers. We believe she’s holed herself up in one of the safe houses in the area, since they are now abandoned, and away from the ever-watchful eyes of the Crownsguard.”

“You want us to go there and get her?” asked Beau.

“Indeed. I simply lack the sheer manpower required to track her down and subdue her, in particular as she is a rather powerful cleric, and the only other teams on hand are quite useless, when it comes to following simple instructions.” He directed this comment at a trio in the back, who all stared pointedly down at their drinks.

“And, of course,” the Gentleman added, turning back to the Nein, “I am certain you also want to find her, which is why I am providing you with this information, free of charge, in exchange for her return to me. Blood included, of course. That part of the deal is non-negotiable, if you all are to remain in my employ and in my good graces. It is…collateral for our relationship, and I want it known that if anybody tries to steal anything from me, I will find them.”

Nott raised an eyebrow. “But we’re doing this for free?” she asked.

His expression went slightly cooler. “Not at all, my little goblin friend. That would imply you get nothing out of this arrangement. In fact, I am now revealing the location of a number of smuggler’s havens to the seven of you, which I ordinarily wouldn’t dream of. And I am providing you the necessary information to go after Cree, and get your blood back. Are you not concerned for your safety? Do you not wonder why she chose to take your vials? I would be curious at the least, which I rather am. If you have any fascinating insights to share, they would be more than welcome.”

“We’ll do it,” said Fjord. “We’ll get her.”

The Gentleman leaned back in his chair and nodded, the bright grin returning. “Excellent,” he said. “I did hope you would say that. Kara?” he glanced at the half-elf standing by his side. “Fetch the maps, would you? Our dear friends will need them if they are to retrieve the runaway member of my troupe.”

Then he turned back to the Nein, eyes gleaming in the torchlight. “Oh, and try not to kill her?” He added sweetly. “I would like Cree brought back alive. I want to know why she ever thought she could steal from me. I want to know why. And I am willing to wait as long as I need to find out, but I am certain you are rather short on time, since your blood is now in her hands.”

“That map is upside-down,” sighed Beau, leaning under the cloak draped over Jester’s head and tapping a small, hastily-sketched compass on the corner of the page. “North is that way, not this way.”

“Sorry, sorry,” said Jester. “It’s hard to see and I don’t want it to get too wet, otherwise the ink might run and we won’t be able to read it.”

“It’s alright, Jes,” said Fjord. “You’re doing fine.”

She gave him a small smile, then glanced back at the drawings. “Alright, I think that over there is the crooked tree,” she said, pointing towards a gnarled oak on their left. “We need to keep heading south, until we hit the stream.”

“Great,” said Molly. “Then how much farther?”

“Not too much, but remember, that is only the first safehouse. There are five more she could be in, and the last is more than a day’s travel away.”

“Then let us hope it is a closer one,” sighed Caleb. “I do not want a repeat attack, and I especially do not want to find out if Cree can do anything else with our blood when she is not being watched over by the Gentleman.” 

The first house was completely empty, just a mess of cobwebs mostly flooded by the storm pouring in through the half-collapsed roof.

“I know the Gentleman does not want us to, but do you think we would have to kill Cree, eventually?” Caleb asked Molly as quietly as he could. “I…I am concerned our options for ending the curse are quite limited.”

Molly sighed. “I know what you mean, dear. The gods being silent worries me. And…and I don’t think we’d be able to just tie her up and drag her around with us until we find a Wish spell. There’s the risk of her escaping, plus travel would be rather difficult if factoring in a bound and angry tabaxi that wants to tear me to shreds.”

“So…so what? We kill her outright?”

“I don’t know. Maybe…maybe after we catch her we make camp for the night, see if our deities are around and if not, we either decide to…to end things, or to hand her over. Though to be fair, being given to the Gentleman could be a fate worse than death if he’s upset.”

Caleb nodded mournfully. “I agree,” he sighed. “I suppose we will just have to wait and see.”

The second house, that they arrived at an hour later, was drier but no less empty. Nott kicked angrily at the ground on the way out, and Beau was starting to get restless.

“We can’t kill her,” Jester said adamantly as they continued to trudge through the relentless storm. “She isn’t in control of herself, and she was your friend. Or, well…somebody’s friend, at least.”

“And the Gentleman wants her back,” Fjord reminded the group. “Alive.”

Yasha raised an eyebrow. “We do not have to obey his orders.” At the group’s confused looks she sighed and explained, “If we catch Cree, and find the blood she stole, the Gentleman would have nothing left to control us. He needs her to track people down, and he needs our blood to do so. Without either, he has no sway.”

There was a brief, rain-filled silence as the rest of the Nein considered her point.

Then Caleb rubbed his chin. “Perhaps that is true,” he said with a nod towards Yasha, “but there are many other things he could use against us. What if he leaked that we have been working for him? What if he undid his work in exonerating Beau and Molly from the death of the High-Richter? We have been in his employ for quite some time now, and a man like himself is sure to have numerous fail-safes in place.”

“And I like workin’ for him,” said Beau. “It’s not boring, and it’s great money, every time.”

“Is that money worth killing an innocent person?” Jester demanded. “Who isn’t even aware of what they’re doing?”

The group fell silent.

“Alright, point taken,” said Molly after a few beats. “Let’s just…let’s just catch her first, alright? One step at a time.” 

“Third time’s the charm?” Nott suggested hopefully as she checked the front door of the safehouse for traps. They were well over half a day’s travel away from Zadash at this point, all thoroughly waterlogged and spirits almost as weighed down as their clothing. Caleb had even dismissed Frumpkin an hour ago, not wanting to subject his tabby this weather any longer.

“I sure hope so,” sighed Fjord. “I do not want to spend any more time out in the storm.”

“I thought you liked water?” Molly grinned cheekily.

The half-orc gave him a half-hearted glare. “Only saltwater,” he said eventually, in defeat.

There was a small click, and Nott turned the handle. “No traps, and I’ve disarmed the lock,” she said. “Ready to go in?”

They all nodded, and she pushed the door open gingerly.

This safehouse was a small, one-room shack, off the road and largely obscured by trees. Inside, was a stack of crates, a brick fireplace in the corner that had three, overturned wooden chairs around it, and a ragged carpet in the middle of the floor. A thick layer of dust coated the ground, and occasionally raindrops would sneak through the roof and plink down into the shack.

“Well,” tried Caleb, “perhaps she is hiding inside a crate.”

Yasha walked over to the stack of wooden boxes and, before anybody could react, raised her greatsword above her head and brought it down in one swift, brutal motion.

It did not open the crates, so much smash them to splinters. A few moldy sacks and rotted fruits tumbled out.

“No Cree,” said Yasha, expression completely blank. “What now?”

The rest took a moment to recover and to think.

Nott rallied first. “What about under the carpet?” she asked. “Maybe there’s like, a trap door or something that leads to a secret underground bunker?”

Beau walked over to the carpet, crouched down, grabbed one of its corners, and yanked it aside. Once the cloud of dust settled and they all stopped coughing from that terrible decision, she shook her head at the solid floor below.

“Nope,” she said.

“Damn,” Molly sighed. “I guess this means we’re going on, then.”

Jester pulled out the map. “The other safehouse is only an hour or so away,” she said. “We can go there, and if Cree still is missing, we could make camp inside it for the night? Get some rest, and keep searching tomorrow?”

“Now that I know Cree has our blood, I don’t think I can ever rest again,” mumbled Nott. “But yeah. Sounds good.”

Fjord nodded. “I think that’s our best option. C’mon, let’s get there quickly. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

They all dejectedly walked out of the safehouse and back into the downpour.

“I guess we can strike another one off the list,” Beau shrugged, gazing back at the lopsided wooden door.

“I was really hoping she’d be there,” Jester grumbled, shaking the map. “Then we could have tied her up and started praying sooner.”

“I just want my blood back,” said Nott. “I’ve got this creepy feeling, like all my hair is standing on end.”

“I feel that way too,” sighed Molly, then rubbed his palm against the back of his neck and frowned. “Actually,” he said, “I don’t think it’s just a feeling, I think it really is.”

“Was?” Caleb frowned, rubbing his own hair as well.

Fjord tapped the top of his head with his fingers. “Hey, yeah, mine too.”

Yasha glanced up at the black clouds. Her eyes widened, and she took a step back. “All of you,” she said quickly, frantically raising her arms, “right now, all of you.”

”What?” Beau asked. “Why?”

”Now!” Yasha shouted, and the rest started looking around with panic. “Now, we must—”

Every single one of them went blind.

Then the air filled with the sharp-stinging smell of ozone and searing heat flattened their skin against their bones. There was the world-ending terror of the ground shaking violently beneath their feet, and then a strange sensation of weightlessness.

And then, there was the sound of a mountain splitting in two, of a hundred-foot high tsunami breaking, of a god’s hammer against the earth, of a thousand drums being struck from the heavens.

This was the thunder.  

When his ears finally stopped ringing and he no longer saw nothing but blinding light even with his eyes closed, Molly groaned and got up from the wet grass.

It was still raining, though he felt considerably drier than before.

There was a voice to his left.

“Are you okay, schatz?” it asked.

Molly rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Is it safe to look, now?”

“Ja, go ahead.”

He opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was Caleb, eyes filled with concern and hand outstretched. He took it with a mutter of thanks, stood up, and tried to wipe the mud off his coat.

And then he looked up, and saw the safehouse.

It wasn’t on fire, which was probably a plus, but an entire section of the roof was just missing—a massive hole gaped at the pouring sky where the chimney had been, the wood around it blackened and smoldering, tiny embers occasionally glowing, and then dying in the rain. There were bits of brick littered on the remaining roof tiles, as well as on the grass at the side of the building.

In front of him, the rest of the Mighty Nein were already up and facing the wreckage.

Jester leaned over, and closed Fjord’s jaw. Nott rubbed her eyes, and Beau’s usual restless energy was completely gone.

For a moment, they just stared.

And then Yasha leaned her head back and looked to the sky. “He heard,” she whispered, barely audible over the rain.

They all turned towards her.

The barbarian’s normally-stoic expression had changed, and was now holding the faintest traces of excitement and reverential wonder. “He heard,” she repeated softly, and then her eyes narrowed and she looked back at the remains of the building.

“Cree is in there,” she said. “I am sure of it.”

They considered the still-smoking ruins of the shattered chimney, and the distant rumbling in the clouds overhead.

Yeah,” said Fjord, somewhat shakily. “Yeah alright, let’s go take another look.”

“Still nothing under the rug,” said Nott, kicking at the empty ground. “And it’s wet in here now,” she added with a glance at the ceiling.

“Still nothing with the crates,” sighed Jester, gesturing towards a pile of soggy splinters.

Beau looked around the room and frowned. “Wait, wait a second,” she said. “Is…is this shack, like...a lot smaller on the inside than it was on the outside?”

Fjord blinked. “Is it?” he asked. “I…I admit, I didn’t notice that.”

“Search the walls,” said Caleb. “For secret passageways, hiding-holes, anything. Anything out of place.”

They instantly fanned out, and began examining the wooden walls. After a moment, Beau’s triumphant voice called out.

“I win,” she said, a huge grin across her face. She was standing next to the fireplace, where a considerable flood poured through from outside and leaked onto the ground. The Nein clustered around and looked at where she was pointing.

Barely visible behind the small waterfall was the outline of a large panel, just big enough for Yasha to squeeze through if she really tried.

Beau reached both arms in, swearing as they were drenched by the rain, and yanked the panel out. Caleb sent a Dancing Light into the darkness beyond, and it illuminated a much taller passageway that ended in a sudden drop on the left. After a moment to confer with Frumpkin, the pearly sheen on his eyes faded and he nodded at the group.

“There is a ladder that leads downwards,” he said. “There is something more beyond.”

Yasha did not look surprised.

“Alright, then,” said Fjord. “Downwards it is.”

One by one, they slipped (in Nott’s case) and squeezed (in Yasha’s case) through the hidden entrance and into the dark passageway. About ten feet away was the path down and they descended, Yasha leading and Caleb, as always, in the back. At the foot of the ladder was tiny room, just bigger than a broom closet. It was almost comical to watch Nott weave around her larger, squished-to-hell friends, towards the door to disarm and unlock it. The second the handle turned, it flew open and they all spilled out into the next room.

This was the soul of the smuggling arts, a hidden subterranean chamber filled to the brim with shelves and boxes and cabinets and safes, all lining the walls and scattered across the floor. Even with the place abandoned, judging by the magnitude of the clutter it was easy to see that over the years, the Gentleman’s people had moved a lot of contraband.

In fact, the whole scene was made that much easier to see because, along the stone walls, the torch sconces had already been lit. They gave off a warm glow that illuminated everything in the basement including—seated atop a large crate at the end of the room, legs crossed and shoulders relaxed—Cree.

“I was so hoping we wouldn’t need to do this,” she sighed, and stood up, and pointed a finger at Beau.

The monk went rigid. Then she whirled around, and her staff cracked against Caleb’s temple.

The basement erupted into chaos.

Yasha lunged forwards to pull Beau back as Jester and Nott both scrambled towards Caleb’s crumpled form. Fjord instantly launched two Eldritch Blasts at Cree, who wove out of the way and just managed to duck under the curve of a furious, ice-covered scimitar aimed at her head. She yanked a mace out of her belt with one hand and now Molly saw that clenched in her other hand was a small glass vial.

“Let my fucking friends go,” he hissed, but unfortunately, the Devil’s Tongue failed. He settled for swiping at her again with his other scimitar, now radiating a bright, golden light.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Beau continued to thrash in Yasha’s arms, fists and legs swinging wildly at her friends. Jester helped Caleb off the ground with a Healing Word, and the wizard shakily moved away from Beau and took a position next to Fjord, joining the half-orc in hurtling spells at Cree, whose eyes were beginning to dart around in a desperate attempt to regain control of the situation.

And then a crossbow bolt buried itself in her shoulder. Four balls of fire exploded around her, accompanied by Zemnian swearing, and a blast of blue-green energy hit her in the side. A purple lollipop shimmered into being and started revolving threateningly, and a scimitar cut into her arm. She began to panic. And as the massive, furious, hulking form of Yasha, surrounded by a crackling necrotic shroud, began barreling across the room towards her, greatsword raised and horrific, decaying wings shimmering in the torchlight, Cree stretched her hand out towards Molly and shouted, “Nobody move!”

Molly felt something strange wash over his body. He tried to resist, and lost, and his mind went blank. He thought he felt his arms shift, but he really couldn’t be sure.

Somewhere else, miles away from where he was now, the rest of the Mighty Nein froze.

“I’m taking Lucien,” said Cree. “Both of us are going to walk out of this chamber, and none of you will follow. Otherwise I just flick my wrist—” and here there was a weird prickling at Molly’s neck “—and our dear friend cuts his own head off. Understood?”

Yasha’s eyes were filled with cold rage. “You will not leave this room alive,” she said.

“We’ll just kill you first,” Beau glowered, senses returned. “We’ll rip you to shreds.”

Cree shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said. “Any of you even take a step forwards, and he’s dead. You think you can reach me before his swords get any further? I’d love to test that out, if you all want.”

“You’re risking your own life,” Caleb tried. “You could die.”

“I don’t care what happens to me,” said Cree, shaking her head. “I just want Lucien gone.”

“Now, hang on,” said Fjord, dismissing his falchion and raising his open palms in a calming gesture. “Let’s talk about this, alright? Why are you so angry with M-Lucien, now? What changed? I thought you two were buddies.”

The tabaxi laughed darkly. “Buddies?” she asked incredulously. “Lucien has done nothing but hurt me, ever since I started following him. And what you thought was friendship before was simply blind faith and idiotic ignorance on my part. Only now have I realized what a snake he was, for tricking us into pouring our belief into his cause. And for what? Only for him to play dead and abandon us for two years, leave us floundering for answers and alone. He doesn’t deserve to keep playing this game with you, with me. I’m going to kill him. I am. But it’s up to the rest of you whether he dies later, or whether he dies now. And I think that’s an obvious choice, right? You want him to live longer, right? If you do, just step aside and—”

—as she continued to speak, slowly, ever so slowly, so slowly as to not even be noticed, at the back of the fight, Jester’s eyes took on a slight, slight hint of green.

She reached into the haversack, and gently took out a little brown pouch tied by a single leather cord.

She reached into that, and her fingers closed around a card.

She took a deep breath, and began to draw her hand out.

Chapter Text

Molly felt free.

He was drifting in vast expanse of soft white light, as if he were floating on clouds far, far above the sky. It was empty here, but not cold or dark or abyssal. This was comfort, pure and simple, pleasant and soothing. He was vaguely aware of a soreness creeping through his arms, but he just couldn’t remember why. Instead, in this downy void, all he wanted to do was close his eyes and dream. This numb paradise felt like sleep. Like intoxicating peace. Like welcome surrender.

And then he heard a woman’s voice.

Presumably, Mollymauk had a mother. But without childhood memories of recollections of family—not even fleeting impressions of a loving embrace or of sweet-smelling hair—she was only a distant figment in a place and time far beyond Molly’s reach. He did not know her. He assumed he never would.

But, in the early months with the circus, on lonely nights when he laid atop the weather-beaten wooden roof of his traveling wagon and stared up at the moon and tried to imagine her, he hoped she would sound like this, like a voice as warm as the summer, always leaving a trace of laughter and a playful hint of joy.

It said:

Wake up.

His mind flared to life. A flood of sensations slammed into his consciousness.

He was in the smuggler’s bunker, he was with the rest of his friends, it was cold down here, the lights were low, it smelled of mildew, Yasha stood a few feet away, sword drawn, stance angry, there was Beau, staff raised, Caleb, eyes worried, hands aflame, and there was Cree standing in front of him, her eyes wide and hand outstretched, tail flickering, now taking a step back, and there were his own arms, raised up, hands clenching something—the handles of the scimitars, the scimitars, they were against his neck, swords were against his neck, there was Cree, standing in front of him, her eyes wide—

He remembered, and he snarled, and he lunged at her.

Caleb reacted first, thrusting out a Scorching Ray. “He’s back!” he yelled, heart filling with resolve and retribution. “Mollymauk is back, attack Cree! Attack Cree!”

The Nein didn’t hesitate. A whirl of cheap but infuriated carnival glass hacked and slashed at the startled tabaxi as Yasha’s wings exploded forth again with crackling black energy. Two more blasts of blue-green light slammed into Cree’s chest and she cried out in pain. Beau leapt over upturned crates and her staff connected against her target’s spine with a terrible ferocity. Two more crossbow bolts went flying, slicing through the air with expert precision and burying themselves into Cree’s leg. Fire exploded against the stonework behind her, and two spheres of flame hit, setting her fur ablaze.

And the blood cleric, hopelessly outnumbered and now outgunned, scorched and bleeding, collapsed.

It took less than six seconds.

And then, across the room, just as the tip of an ivory card hit the stale air, blue fingers guiding it outwards, Molly leveled his blade at Cree’s throat and Jester’s eyes widened, the green faded, she dropped the haversack and ran forwards and yelled, “Stop it! Stop it! She’s down, can’t you see, she’s down! Don’t kill her! Don’t kill her!”

Molly froze. Indeed, in front of him, Cree’s eyes had closed and her head slammed onto the stone floor with a muffled thump. She did not move.

Jester scrambled up to the melee fighters and they lowered their weapons. She knelt next to the fallen tabaxi.

“She’s down,” Jester repeated, panting slightly. “Let’s tie her up, please? You promised, that is what we would do.”

“We could kill her right now,” Beau said, adrenaline fading. “It’s the safest thing to do. We don’t know what else she’s capable of.”

“I don’t want to put the group at risk,” called Fjord from the back.

“We did almost…something terrible almost happened to Molly,” Yasha added.

“You all promised,” Jester said, now half-furious, half-betrayed. “You all said we would just capture her, and then figure it out. And,” she added with a glance at her dropped haversack, “I think I might have an idea, if we can all just sit down and talk.”

Molly considered the unconscious Cree on the ground, and sheathed his swords. “Alright, Jester,” he said. “We did promise, and you’re right. Let’s hear it.”

Beau reached into her bag. “I’ve got some rope,” she said. “But let’s search her pockets and get that blood back, first.”

Nott rolled a small vial of blood across her bandaged knuckles in an impressive feat of dexterity. Then, after it glanced across her pinky, she spun her wrist, flicked the vial into the air, and caught it with one hand. She shot Caleb a huge grin, and shook the blood cheekily before slipping it into her pouch.

“You should’ve joined the circus,” Molly quipped. “We could’ve used something like that, I’m sure.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and walked over to the rest, seated in an arc around Cree’s fallen form.

“That’s the last of it,” declared Nott, the most cheerful she’d been in the last few days. “All seven vials, back with us.”

Yasha breathed a sigh of relief. “I am glad to see them returned,” she said.

“Hopefully we can keep ‘em this time,” said Molly. “After all that, I don’t want anybody hanging onto my blood except for me, ever again.”

“Same here,” nodded Beau.

“Now we just have to figure out what to do with Cree,” said Caleb, and they all looked at to the unconscious, fur-covered lump lying on the ground before them.

Fjord turned to Jester. “You, er, you said you had a non-killing solution to this situation?”

“Did the Traveler answer your prayer?” Nott asked. “Is he going to provide a…a divine intervention and cure Cree?”

Jester’s determined expression went slightly sheepish. “Um…sort of?” she tried. “It’s…um…it’s not exactly that clear.”

The room seemed to grow colder. Beau raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

Jester fidgeted with a ribbon on her dress. “Well…he definitely did answer me, that part is definite. But, um, I’m not totally sure what he’s planning.”

“So you don’t know if he’ll help?” Yasha asked.

“Oh, I know he will help us,” Jester said instantly. “He always helps. I just don’t really know…how.”

Even Molly was starting to feel slightly uneasy. “Explain, dear, please. What did he say?”

Jester took a deep breath. “He…um…he said that I should draw a card.”

There was a moment of silence.

“He wants you to draw a card?” Fjord asked. “Is…is he going to make sure you get a good one?”

Jester shrugged, and then immediately regretted doing so. “I’m not, I’m not completely sure,” she said. “And he didn’t really say it either, you know? It was more like a feeling. Like, I feel that I should absolutely probably take one out, and I’m absolutely probably sure it will be the one we need.”

“I never feel confident when you say ‘absolutely probably’ like that, Jester,” said Yasha.

“But that’s what it was. That’s how it felt.”

“So you are not certain?” Caleb asked. “There is no guarantee that it will go well?”

“Well, no, but it’s the Traveler! He will protect me, of course!”

There were more than a few sighs, at that.

“Are you sure he’s actually telling you to do this?” Beau asked. “And you’re not just…y’know, it’s not just you who wants to try?”

“You are…extremely against killing Cree to end the curse, which is reasonable,” Fjord added hastily, “but maybe…maybe that’s makin’ you a little desperate, and maybe a little biased.”

Jester’s expression went from embarrassed to affronted. “Absolutely not!” she said sternly. “I know it’s the Traveler. I believe in him!”

“I know, I’m sorry, but…but what if that belief is a little…skewed?” Fjord tried. “I mean, he’s not exactly the most straightforward or…or conventional god, and I know he likes playing tricks and things and he’s messed with you in the past—”

Her eyes narrowed and her tail started to twitch. “He would never play tricks about something as important as this,” she said, fiercely loyal. “I know you don’t always like him the most, Fjord, but trust me. I know him. He is my best friend.”

Her tone suggested that this was a conversation the two of them had entertained before, in private, and that previous tensions had not been entirely resolved. Fjord sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just…I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

She relaxed slightly. “It’s alright. I know.”

Molly ran a hand through his hair. “I…I definitely believe in your belief,” he said to Jester, “but I really don’t want you to pull a card without being sure of what’ll happen. You all know what happened last time I…I did it, it’s the reason we’re in this mess. And now we know that there are even more terrible things hiding in that pouch. And I mean really terrible.”

“Like Flames,” supplied Beau, “or Void. Or Ruin, or—”

“Exactly,” Molly sighed. “And there are only two that could help us, right?”

Caleb nodded. “The Moon, and…and Fates.”

“What’re those odds?” Nott asked.

“There’s twelve left,” said Caleb, “so one out of six.”

Nott considered this, then took a swig of her flask. “That’s not too bad,” she said.

“If Jester doesn’t get that one out of six,” said Fjord, “she could lose her soul. Or summon a devil, or go insane, or get erased from this world, or…or who knows?”

Nott instantly took another swig. “Nevermind,” she said. “That’s bad.”

“It’s a huge risk,” nodded Beau, and her voice quivered almost imperceptively. “I don’t…that’s not a risk I want you to take.”

“So what then?” Jester demanded. “You all want to kill her? You want her to die?”

“No, no, of course not,” Yasha said, “but…but…”

Caleb gave her a wretched look. “If…if it is a choice between you and Cree, then…then…”

“We like you,” said Nott.

“A lot,” muttered Beau.

“We don’t want to risk you dying,” said Molly. "Or worse."

Fjord would not meet her eyes. “I can’t risk that, Jes,” he said.

For the longest second, Jester’s resolve wavered. And then she bit her lip, and shook her head.

“I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t do this,” she said. “I’m a cleric. I heal people. And right now, there’s somebody that needs my healing. And we don’t have any other options left. I won’t let Cree die. She’s innocent. This all happened because we weren’t careful—” and here Molly flinched slightly, “—but your answer is to just kill her to make her stop? You guys are all my friends. I know you, and I know that you aren’t okay with that. So we have to do what the Traveler is suggesting. You have to let me pick a card.”

The Nein looked around uncomfortably.

“I know you trust him,” Caleb said as gently as he could, “but we do not entirely…do. We do not know him as well as you. We are not his followers, we…we are not his people.”

Jester turned towards him and her gaze softened. “You’re my people,” she said. “My friends. And the Traveler has helped you guys many, many times before. Every time I heal, or use magic in our fights, it’s because of his blessing. He cares about you all, I know it. He has been with us, through me, this whole time. And now he is going to help me heal you all again, by fixing Cree.”

Jester put her hand against the metal symbol hanging on her belt. “We can’t cast the wish spell. We will not kill her. But we tried praying, and our gods answered! You all saw the lightning, that was the Stormlord, wasn’t it, Yasha? He was looking out for us! He answered. Now it’s the Traveler’s turn. You don’t have to believe in him, but, please, can you believe in me?”

She looked at them all imploringly, wide eyes now brimming with tears. “Please?”

Nott relented first. “I can,” she said. “I believe in you.”

“I believe in you too, dear,” whispered Molly. “And I’m sorry it came to this,” but she shook her head firmly and smiled.

“I will support you,” Yasha said quietly. “If you are certain.”

Beau’s mask shattered. “Just…just don’t die, got it?”

Caleb looked at her with a long and tortured stare. “I hope you know what you are doing,” he said. “This could end…extremely poorly.”

Jester shook her head again. “The Traveler won’t let that happen,” she said adamantly. “I know it. I have faith.”

And then she turned to Fjord, and her soul ached. He was staring back at her, yellow eyes gleaming in the gloom, with the face of a man whose world was now crumbling down around him. But he gave her a small smile, put a gentle hand on her shoulder, took a shaky breath, and nodded. “Alright,” he said softly. “Alright. Let’s just hope you have enough faith for the rest of us, too.”

She pressed her forehead against his and smiled. “I do,” she said. “I do.”

They all gathered close and faced her, shuffling away from Cree’s still-unmoving form. Caleb sat to her right with Nott in his lap, Molly next to him, then Yasha, then Beau, then Fjord on her left with one hand still on her arm, the other curled into a fist. His fingernails dug into his palm.

“Okay,” she said, and reached into the haversack and pulled out the deck. “Okay, you guys. I’m going to do it.”

“We love you,” said Nott quietly, and the rest nodded. Fjord squeezed her arm and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

She looked at them all, a familiar wide smile across her freckled face, eyes determined but also, now, slightly afraid.

“It’ll be okay,” she said as reassuringly as she could. “He’ll help us. I believe in him.”

And then she undid the leather cord, and reached into the pouch.

Her hand trembled. She felt around, her fingers brushed the tip of a few smooth cards and eventually, eventually, she settled on one of them.

She pinched it gently, and slowly drew it out. The back was polished ivory, engraved with small golden flowers. She held it up to her face, and the Nein all held their breath with dread and nervousness and anticipation and worry.

Her brow furrowed. And then she burst into laughter.

“What is it?” Molly asked, unable to wait any longer. “What did you pull? What is it?”

“That motherfucker!” Jester giggled delightedly, and flipped the card around. “What a dick!”

Its shining surface glimmered the torchlight. It depicted a figure standing before the night sky, a deep, midnight blue dotted with bright white stars. The figure itself had its hands raised at its sides, and above its open palms floated a glowing yellow moon on the left, and a reddish-purple moon on the right. It wore a long, flowing cloak of elegant, verdant green, that draped across its form and fell loose at the sleeves. Its face was largely obscured by a low-hanging hood, but it left just enough room to reveal a sharp chin and a crooked, mischievous smirk.

Faint golden and maroon flowers curled along the base of the card where, in scrawled letters read:

The Traveler.

There was only a couple of seconds to stare at the card and try to make sense of what just happened, because the moment Jester held it up to the rest, there was a flash of blinding, green light and a strange melodic hum, like the gentle plucking of a lyre.

And then, when it faded and they could see again, they watched as on the ground before them, Cree groaned softly. Her eyes fluttered open, taking in the strange scene around her, and she struggled to sit up. Her gaze fell on Molly, and her brow furrowed.

“N-Nonagon?” she asked hesitantly, and looked around once more. “Er…where am I?”

Jester looked down at the card, and then back at the confused tabaxi, and then clapped her hands together and all around them, in a 30-foot sphere, there was a brief glow of dazzling silver light as a Zone of Truth flickered into life.

“You’re in an underground smuggler’s bunker, dear,” said Molly immediately. “Somewhere in the woods outside Zadash.”

Cree rubbed at her forehead. “Why…why am I here?”

Molly sighed. “A lot’s happened. We…er…I’ll explain in a minute. How are you, uh, feeling?”

Cree blinked a few times. Her eyes were slightly dazed, but clearing with every passing second. “Not great,” she said slowly. “My head hurts quite a bit, but I think I’ll be alright. Why?”

“Do you feel like killing M-Nonagon?” Nott asked immediately. “Do you wanna hurt him?”

Cree looked almost offended. “Hurt Nonagon?” she asked incredulously. “Why would I want to do that?”

“You do not wish him any harm?” Caleb pressed.

Cree’s confused look deepened. “No, of course not! He is dear to me, why would I want that?”

They all glanced at Jester, who gave a tiny nod of she’s telling the truth.

Molly stood up, and walked over to Cree. He offered her a hand. “Let’s…let’s go over to that corner and have a chat. Is that alright? Like I said, a lot’s happened, and I think it’s time I filled you in.”

She took his hand. “Alright,” she said, still puzzled. “Yes, that is alright.”

Safely outside the radius of Jester’s divine magics, Molly and Cree took a seat. Behind them, the rest of the Mighty Nein were whispering something. Fjord had wrapped Jester into a hug and Nott was now sitting in her lap. Molly wished he were over there, and not about to hand the most ridiculous bullshit of his life to the open, honest, green-eyed face before him. But he sighed, met her expectant gaze, and put a hand on her shoulder.

“When we did our ritual, two years ago,” he began, “it did work. No doubt about that. But the reason I couldn’t see the rest of you, or tell you more information, was because accomplishing our objective drew the attention of some rather…dangerous entities.”

Cree’s eyes widened. “No,” she whispered, “no, Lucien, why—”

Molly held up his hand. “I don’t know for certain,” he said calmly. “But I didn’t want the rest of you, the…the Tomb Takers, to suffer the consequences for what we—for what I did.”

Cree’s expression softened. “Lucien, you always do this. You could have let us help you. We should have been there to help you.”

He shook his head. “You all are too important to me,” he said. “I couldn’t risk that. None of you should be in harm’s way because of me. I had to do this alone. And it worked,” he added with a wry grin. “For a long time, the angry forces only came after me. But…but a few days ago, one of them targeted you. It controlled you, tried to use you to get to me. We…we managed to break its hold over you, and destroy it. I am sorry, Cree. I am truly, terribly sorry for what happened.”

He looked back into her face, and saw nothing but pure, awe-filled gratitude.

“Thank you, Lucien,” she said softly. “I am only sorry I was not strong enough to ward it off myself, or to realize my actions. I…I am sorry myself for attempting to harm you.”

Molly could feel his stomach sinking. This was garbage. He wanted to tell her the truth so badly. Cree deserved that at least, but…but he couldn’t. He couldn’t without letting her know that he actually remembered nothing, that she and whoever the Tomb Takers were, all of it was meaningless to him. He wouldn’t say a thing without jeopardizing everything he was, who he had chosen to become, not to mention the new life he had begun with the Nein, with his friends, with Yasha and Fjord and Nott and Jester and even Beau and…and Caleb. He sighed.

“It’s alright,” he said gently. “I am just glad to see you returned. I…I have missed you.”

A smile crept across Cree’s face. “I have missed you as well, Lucien. But you said the creature controlling me was destroyed, does this mean things will return to normal now? Will we reunite with the others, now?”

The hope in her voice was like acid. Molly shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Cree,” he said. “But there are still more out there. I recruited the band behind me—” and he gestured vaguely at the Mighty Nein, “—to help me hunt them down, and we are making progress. But it is slow.”

Cree gazed at the group, and then back at Molly. “Are…what do they mean to you?” she asked hesitantly. “Are…are they important to you?”

Molly was a selfish bastard. Utter trash. “They are,” he acknowledged, “but nowhere near as important as you. They are a means to an end—to bringing back the Tomb Takers when everything is safe again. I don’t want you, any of you, to get hurt. I promise, I am doing everything I can to fix things. Trust…trust me, alright?”

Cree nodded back at him, tears at the corner of her eyes and smiling widely. “Of course, Lucien,” she said. “I trust you always. Is…is there anything I can do, at all, to help?

Molly hated himself. He took a deep breath. “Actually, dear, there is one thing. It involves the Gentleman, if you’re willing to risk the ire of your leader to lend me your services.”

Cree put a hand on his shoulder, and he had to force himself not to think oddly of her touch.

“You are my leader, Nonagon,” she said firmly. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

“Thank you, dear,” sighed Molly. “You really don’t know how much that means to me.”

“Here’s the blood, as promised,” said Fjord, sliding seven vials across the table. “And, please, go easy on Cree? Like I said, it really wasn’t her fault. One of our enemies must’ve seen her with us aboveground, before, and must’ve been using her to get to us. We’ve travelled around the Empire quite a bit, at this point. We’ve picked up a few rivals and adversaries here and there, unfortunately.”

The Gentleman raised an eyebrow. “I trust no more of these…opponents of yours will interfere with my business again?”

Fjord nodded quickly. “Of course,” he said reassuringly. “We’ve taken care of that one, and we’ll take care of anything else that could even remotely be a problem. Free of charge. You have our word.”

The Gentleman leveled a long, long stare at the him, and then at the rest of the Mighty Nein.

“Thank the gods for the dodecahedron,” Fjord sighed as they walked out of the Evening Nip and into the evening streets of Zadash, now damp with puddles but no longer raining. “I’m not sure he would’ve bought our story otherwise.”

“Do you think he’ll be able to tell that we used wolf’s blood?” Nott asked. “He’s a tricky guy. Good at…liquids.”

“I think we’ll be fine,” said Molly. “Cree did a wonderful job, and she’s the one that handles the vials anyway. I believe in her.”

Caleb slid his hand into Molly’s and gave the tiefling a reassuring squeeze. “If you do, then I do as well” he said. Then he turned and gave Jester a half-smile, which was a lot, for Caleb. “And speaking of belief," he said, "I still cannot believe how incredible you were, earlier."

She beamed, and blushed slightly. “Aw, it was nothing,” she grinned. “I just asked the Traveler for help.”

Fjord put his arms around her shoulder. “That was not nothing,” he said adamantly. “You’re the hero, Jes. You convinced him to help, and then you convinced us to let you. You’re amazing.”

“You’re pretty great,” agreed Beau.

“Absolutely wonderful,” nodded Yasha.

“Totally cool,” said Nott.

Molly caught Jester’s eye and gave her a solemn nod. “I don’t know where we would be without you, dear.” he said. “You fixed my mistake. You saved all of us from being possessed or from hurting ourselves. And, even more than that, you prevented us from taking…taking an innocent life. I mean it, Jester, you’re the best of us. And today, you kept us from doing something terrible. Thank you, dear. Thank you.”

Her radiant grin grew even larger. “You’re welcome,” she giggled. “You can buy me some pastries, and let me braid your hair if you really want to thank me. Ooh, and convince your boyfriend to take a bath.”

Caleb’s cheeks colored. “I am quite clean, now, thank you,” he said reproachfully. “I have not avoided baths for months, and now—”

She laughed again. “I know, I know,” she said. “I’m just teasing.”

He sighed, but the small smile returned. “Ja, I figured,” he said. “You earned it.”

“Speaking of things we’ve earned,” said Beau, “maybe that includes a round of drinks? After the crazy few days we just had, I really think I could use one. Or two.”

“Or three or four or five,” added Nott.

Fjord nodded. “Great idea,” he said. “Let’s get back to the Leaky Tap. I’m sure Wessick would appreciate our patronage, right?”

“Right,” nodded Yasha. “And our money.”

Fjord sighed as Beau and Molly started snickering. “Sure,” he agreed. “And our money.”

“So…what are we going to do with the cards?” Nott asked as a round was brought to their booth. “Should we burn them, or something?”

“I do not think that would work, spatz,” said Caleb. “Magical items are not disposed of so easily.”

“I could use my sword,” Yasha supplied. “It’s worked before.”

“And it’s sexy as hell,” added Beau after a large drain of her flagon.

“I don’t think we should do that,” sighed Fjord. “Who knows, they might come in handy one day.”

“I also think we should save them,” said Jester. “Just in case.”

“I’m alright with that,” Molly agreed. “As long as I’m not the one who picks one, next time.”

“I could do it again,” Jester volunteered with a sly grin, and there was a chorus of protests. She shrugged and reached for a glass of milk.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Fjord suggested. “In the meantime, I think they’ll do just fine at the bottom of the haversack.”

The group nodded firmly.

“I personally can’t wait to go to bed and not have to get up in the middle of the night to save Molly,” sighed Beau. “And I can’t wait to actually sleep in a room, and not in the hallway.”

“That would be rather nice,” Yasha agreed.

Caleb turned to Nott. “Speaking of rooms, you are certain you are fine spending the night with Frumpkin?” he asked.

Nott waved a hand. “Sure,” she said. “You and Molly need some time alone. But I’m stealing you back as my roommate tomorrow,” she added with a determined nod. “And then us girls will bunk together and leave Fjord by himself.”

The half-orc, halfway through draining his flagon, sighed. “Never woulda thought rooming would be such a complicated issue once all of us…paired off,” he said.

Jester gave him a playful kiss. “We can’t leave Nott all by herself, though!” she said sternly. “That’s way too lonely.”

“I’m not really that lonely,” said the little goblin girl, a tabby now in her arms, “but it’s nice you guys think of me.”

“Of course,” said Yasha. “You are one of us. Of course we would.”

“We’ll make sure you always have company, spatz,” Caleb agreed. “Always.”

Nott grinned, which scared the life out of a man walking by their table, who began walking away much faster.

Molly took this as his cue to introduce more alcohol into the equation. “Come on, guys! I’ll get another round. We’re much too sober right now to be this touchy-feely.”

“Amen to that,” Beau mumbled.

“Come on, come on,” Molly pressed. “What are we all having? It’s on me, don’t be shy! I literally never spend my money on anything else!”

“Strongest drink,” said Beau. “All of it. Right now.”

Molly grinned. “Excellent choice,” he said, getting up off the bench. “Coming right up.”

Caleb and Molly were both somewhat tipsy when they stumbled up to their room and collapsed onto the bed.

“I am so happy this is all done and resolved,” Molly sighed, pressing a kiss to Caleb’s cheek. “I never want to see those bloody cards again.”

He nodded. “Ja, ja, I as well,” he said. “I did not ask before, how did Cree react to being told she was cursed by one?”

Molly instantly looked guilty. “I, er, I didn’t actually tell her the truth,” he sighed. “I told her it was a leftover of all the weird blood cult stuff from before. So…so she would leave me alone.”

Caleb blinked. “You…oh. And…and did she respond well to that?”

Molly nodded slightly miserably. “She did,” he said. “But I hated saying it to her. I’m a bastard for even doing it. I shouldn’t have lied to her like that, you know? She should’ve gotten the truth, after all of that.”

Caleb slid closer to Molly, and put a hand on his chest. “You did what you thought was right, at the time,” he said. “Is that not true?”

“Well, it is, but—”

“And you did it to protect us, and protect yourself?”

“Well, yes.”

“So you are not a complete bastard. You are just fighting certain battles, at certain times, I suppose.”

Molly nodded. “That’s pretty good logic,” he conceded. “But I still feel awful about it.”

“One day, will you tell her the truth?”

Molly sighed. “I think I will,” he said. “One day. I owe it to her.”

“Then we take things one step at a time,” Caleb said. “One step at a time, we become better people. It does not mean we are bad, just that we are trying. And sometimes that is all we can do, ja?”

Molly closed his eyes and smiled. “You’re a rather wise man, when you want to be.”

Caleb leaned over and pressed a kiss to his partner’s neck. “I suppose,” he agreed. “I can be quite a number of things, when I want to.”

“And what do you want to be right now?”

This time, the kiss was with a grin. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “But I think I have a few ideas.”

Molly grinned back. “Alright,” he murmured. “Enlighten me.”

“That was pretty crazy huh?” asked Fjord as he watched Jester finish copying the likeness of The Traveler into her sketchbook. “I still am real impressed, with everything that happened.”

Jester sighed, her charcoal gliding across parchment. “I know you aren’t only impressed, Fjord. I know you were worried too.”

He immediately looked slightly guilty. “Sorry, Jes, I shouldn’t have doubted—”

She shook her head, and he quieted down. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I…I feel terrible for the way I made you feel. I want…I want you to know that this…us, is also really important to me. And I am sorry I risked it today, because I wanted to try and save somebody.”

“Hey, no, darlin’, it’s…I’m glad you think that. But I also want you to know that…that you did the right thing. As…as worried as I was, today, as afraid as I was for you, I’m glad nothing stops you from doing what you believe in, okay? I’m always gonna support you, and I should’ve been more supportive today.”

Jester smiled, but a teardrop hit the page she was working on. “I should have thought more about how you felt.”

Fjord reached over, and wrapped her into a hug. “We’ve both got stuff to work on, then, huh?”

She nodded, and carefully placed the card, and her journal, on the bedside table. “I think we do.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We’ll work on it together,” he said. “Right?”

She wiped away the tears, and turned around to kiss him. “Right,” she agreed. Then she grinned and asked, “But when you say work on it, what do you mean by it—”

He shook his head, half from resignation and half from laughter. “I don’t wanna answer that,” he said, “not unless you want—”

“Oh, I do,” Jester giggled. “I do.”

Next to the bed, the Traveler’s card gleamed in the low lamplight.

“Man, it’s nice to have our room back,” Beau grinned as she flopped onto the mattress. Behind her, Yasha had placed the greatsword onto the table and was undoing her armor.

“Hey, you know, that was real badass today. With the lightning and stuff. Did you expect the Stormlord to answer you like that?”

“No, I did not, actually,” said Yasha, sliding off her armguards. “But I am very happy that he did.”

“It was awesome,” agreed Beau. “You’re so awesome.”

“Thank you. I am glad…I am glad he was listening.”

“Y’know, it’s real cool that you’ve got that sort of thing going on with a god, and all. I wish I could do that.”

“You are wonderful on your own already,” said Yasha, shedding her feathered shawl. “I am always very impressed by you.”

Beau’s cheeks colored slightly. “I mean, yeah, sure. Of course you are, ‘cause I’m so cool and stuff and…”

She trailed off, as Yasha turned around.

“I forgot what I was going to say,” said Beau quietly.

“That is alright,” said Yasha. “You don’t need to say anything.”

“You know, the only reason I don’t eat you is because Caleb likes you a lot. And you taste like smoke. And your fur is really soft.”

Frumpkin, curled up in Nott’s grasp, purred.

Nott looked around the room, then back at the cat, and shrugged. “Want to help me tear this blanket into bandages?” she asked.

That morning, Mollymauk awoke to the gentle hum of city life drifting up from the street below their room. When he opened his eyes, he saw Caleb already sitting up in bed next to him, brow furrowed in concentration and finger trailing along a page in his book. The sunlight filtering in through their window made Caleb’s hair glow warm and bright. For a moment, Molly drank in the scene before him, his heart soaring and marveling at how he could ever have been lucky enough to deserve this.

Then Caleb looked down, and saw the playful smile curling across Molly’s face.

“Good morning, schatz,” he murmured softly. “Sleep well?”

Molly chuckled, and reached up to press a kiss to Caleb’s lips.

“The best sleep I’ve had in days,” he whispered back.

And truly—after a night of blissful quiet, Caleb curled closely into his side—it was.