Kel was soaked with rain by the time he reached the Rootwater Inn. Despite the giant branches that shaded the entirety of the city, rain still dripped through. In some ways, this was worse because the branches caused concentrated streams of water to plunge from the sky. A few times, he almost found himself knocked to the ground. Now he understood why there were random ditches and canals at certain intervals - otherwise the sudden bursts of water could flow unhindered, flooding any number of shops. It also explained why almost no one was out at the moment. Here, rain wasn’t just an inconvenience - it was a hazard.

The earthy, basement smell of the Rootwater Inn was intensified by the rain as he slung open the round door and stalked into the dimly lit room. Lanterns glowed and the fire flickered against the stormy darkness. The cloaked figure of Trixy reclined near the fire,her hood drawn back. She was still sleeping. Valir was in her usual spot, wiping a beer glass. “No luck, eh?” she called.

“None. And I got robbed. All of my gold. Gone.” Kel resisted the urge to wring out his shirt right there on the stairs as he stomped down to the bottom floor.

“That’s a damn shame there.” She looked at him evenly. “Well, at least you’re paid through the week.”

“I don’t suppose you have a job open,” he asked, hopeful.

“Can’t say that I do.” one corner of her mouth turned up.

“Just great.” He muttered to himself. He walked over by the fire, the bartender’s watchful gaze following him the whole way. Aside from himself and Trixy lounging in the corner, they were alone.

“I guess this was a mistake.” He shook himself dry, since there was nothing else to do. Then, when he was still cold despite the fire, he mustered a bit of wind and vibrated it against himself, releasing a burst of mist into the air. It was almost as good as having a towel.

Trixy shuffled in the chair and sneezed before turning back over.

“What was that!?” Valir perked up.

“I think it was a sneeze…” Kel started.

“No, not that. The thing you just did.”

“Oh that...just trying to get a little more dry.”

“You can do spellwork? Like, real stuff - not just charm spells or whatever?”

“Um, just cantrips really. Nothing big…” He wasn’t about to tell her about Poe.

“No matter. Show me what you can do and I may have a job for you.”

Kel stretched his fingers. “Alright then.”

Reflecting on his time in the woods, he conjured the image of a wolf. His intense fear at the time had cemented it into his mind - snarling and hungry, he raised it into existence and set it stalking among the chairs of the tavern. When it came close to Valir, he made the image jump soundlessly onto the bar. Valir unconsciously flinched as the wolf-form stalked by her. Finally, with a flourish, he made the illusory wolf leap from the bar into the air and dissipate back into the ether.

For a moment, Valir was speechless. Then, she clapped. “Perfect!” She exclaimed. “You’re hired.”

“Great. What am I going to be doing?”

“I’ll have Jasper show you. For now, you should get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Despite his good fortune at landing a job, he felt a pang of sadness at having lost his worldly possessions as he settled into bed. The gate glass was the only thing he had left out of the bag, a chunk sitting forlornly on the bedside table.It was weird to be in bed without Kyleria’s brown book. He had been studying another fighting spell, one that would have let him send out a blast of freezing air. He figured he could use it for fighting or to weaken things like chains if he ever needed to. However, without the book he wouldn’t be able to get it right. And with a spell like that, ignoring the instructions could be….dangerous. After his experience with Trixy that morning, he felt it might be best to learn the spell to communicate with animal folk. He would have to ask Valir where he could learn that when he got the chance.

He fumbled with the amulet, sitting heavy on his chest as he lounged in the candle-light, feeling lonely. He considered using it, but when he thought about it, it just wasn’t worth it. Sure, he could talk to Petyr. He certainly wanted to. But on the other hand, he wanted to see the marquess when he was at Maximilian’s, successful and happy. He certainly didn't want him to think Kel was pathetic, getting his stuff stolen like that. So he settled for a different sort of company.

“Poe,” he called.

Pop. A dark mass stood at the foot of his bed, bulbous eyes trained on him, flickering. It seemed just a little taller than the last time he had seen it. By now, the sudden appearance of the goblin thing was becoming less and less of a surprise, thankfully.

“Hi Poe.”

“Where is this?” Poe said, almost glumly.

“Five Points. Ever heard of it?”

“No, ” Poe rasped. It crawled on the bed over to the window, peering outside. Despite his familiarity with the creature, Kel felt himself instinctively recoil. Then he felt guilty. He had called the thing, after all.

Poe tilted its head back and forth, as if trying to get a better view. Finally, satisfied, it sat on the bed with it’s spindly legs hanging over the edge. It regarded him coolly. “What happened?”

With nothing else to talk about, and no real desire to talk about everything that had happened since the Crossroads, Kel simply offered, “Someone stole my things today.”

“Stole?” It swivelled its head to look at him. “Was it a strong thief?”

“Er….” Kel hesitated to say it had been a girl, smaller and younger than him, but there it was. “Not exactly, no.”

“Then how did it steal?” Poe tilted its head.

“She was faster than me. More familiar with the area.” Not to mention willing to use a low blow. Kel’s testicles still ached a little from her surprisingly heavy kick.

“So stronger.” Poe nodded matter-of-factly.

“Whatever you say, Poe.” Kel sighed. “Why do you care, anyway?”

“Why not?” it replied. That was sort of an answer, Kel figured. Why not, indeed.

“Steal back your things?” It mused, a clawed finger to its chin.

“Well, I would if I could find her.”

“Find her, yes. And then steal back.”

“You would help me do that?”

The thing’s alien eyes glittered. “At home,” it said, “we love stealing.”

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Chaaron threw another log on the fire and removed the kettle from where it had been boiling above the hearth. It was the third night since Kel had escaped and, while Johan had disappeared, Kel’s other supporters had continued to meet in secret to try and come up with a plan to repatriate the boy.

He poured a cup of tea for Kyleria, who was thinking with a furrowed brow, and William, who was reciting some work of poetry, ostensibly in Faerie language. Five years ago, Caaron would have told him to shut it, but now that the Fae had disappeared from the world, he didn’t see much point. It’s not like his words would summon anything; they were just words, learned by a captive during his time in a strange land.

William had just finished his recitation, the tea steaming between them all like an oracle’s incense pyre, when the door of the hut flew open. “We've got a problem.” Johan rushed into the room. He was covered in sweat and grime; fallen leaves clung to his hood and cloak. The smell of horse hung heavy about him.

Kyleria's eyes snapped to him with a start. “Where have you been? We were worried sick about you. Thought the mayor had had you done away with.”

“I’ve been tracking the mercenaries. Found out who they are.”

“And you caught up with them? “

“A little too well.” His countenance darkened. He had spent the last two nights pretending to sleep on a dead man’s bedroll, a dead man whom he had killed and whose identity he had assumed. It had not been easy. Harris had been well-liked among his peers, as gruff as they were. Johan had limited his interactions, feigning a hangover and accepting duties that took him away from prying eyes. It was lucky that they were former rangers - he would have had no hope of infiltrating a group of soldiers in the thick of a war. They had relaxed their use of signals and their jargon was fairly standard for ex-military. When it was time to ride out and meet the other half of the company in Ferryton , he had volunteered to sweep behind and make sure Kel hadn’t doubled back to Fellow’s Glen. He was still wearing the dead man’s clothes now as he sat down at the small table.

“So who are they?”

“Briarband mercenaries.”

Caaron cursed under his breath. They were an elite group. Anyone who had fought in the War knew who they were. A coalition of rangers from the three southernmost countries, they were renowned for being both professional and ruthless. “So they won’t be bought out, will they?”

“I’m afraid not. They do this for sport. ”

The wise man looked sidelong at Kyleria. “Well, there goes your plan.”

She grimaced. “Is there any way to stop them? With force?”

Johan grimaced. “It’s too dangerous and there are too many of them. We just have to hope Kel finds Maximilian before they do. They aren’t known for having a light touch.”

“Could we send someone to interfere? Another mercenary company?”

Johan shook his head. “It would be pricey. And legally, a bit shaky. We would be inciting violence to evade judgement. That would probably be breaking quite a few laws.”

Kyleria was visibly crestfallen. “So there’s nothing we can do?”

“He will be fine,” William said dreamily, sipping his tea as if it wasn’t nearly boiling. “G’uin gave me a story to tell Kel and I relayed the message. He will prevail with her guidance.”

Kyleria shrugged, ignoring the mystic. “Why don’t we take the fight to the mayor, then? We can appeal.”

“The council won’t hear us; they’re in his pocket. You know that.”

Kyleria slammed the table with a fist, drawing stares from the others. “But we have to do something.”

“We already have. We just have to trust that he will be okay. I raised the boy. He will be fine no matter where he is. And I’m certain he’ll pick up the trail soon.”

Johan stood up. “For my part, I’ll keep with the Briarbands and make sure they don’t actually get close. They still don’t suspect anything, so I plan to use that as long as I can. If we get near the boy, I’ll misdirect them as best I can.”

The old man nodded his assent. “Do you have some time to spare? A cup of tea to ease your fatigue?”

Johan shook his head. “No, I have to get going. I’m due back to meet up with the others in the morning. No time to spare.” He walked over to the door and paused. “I’ll aim to be back in a fortnight, at the latest. Provided I’m confident that Kel is safe.”

“Thank you, Johan.” Chaaron gave him a slight bow. Kyleria held her tongue, instead giving him a begrudging smile before he left.

William shrugged. “More tea for me,” he said as he poured himself another cup.

Once she was back at her home, Kyleria settled down at her desk. Their group had given up much too easily. The others thought it unwise to interfere, true, but Kel was a child. What they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them. If her decision caused pain for anyone, it would be Kyleria’s alone. Her quiver hesitated, then resolved, she began to write. “My dearest sister, I know we have not spoken in some time…”

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Kel spent most of the next day practicing routines with Jasper, the resident minstral at the Rootwater Inn. Jasper had a young face, but his drinking and smoking habits placed his age well beyond that of a teenager. His long blonde hair hung below his shoulders and, from the way he tossed it from time to time, seemed to be something he was fairly proud of. He could also play a lyre better than anyone Kel had ever heard.

When he talked, he tended to end his sentences as a question, even if they weren’t one. As a result, it took a while for Kel to understand his expectations. Still, those expectations were fairly easy to grasp. He would play a tune while Kel would use his illusions to play the scene out. They were fairly easy, at first, but since Jasper was a musician and not a wizard, he didn’t quite seem to grasp the complexities of spell-work. He kept demanding little changes, to the extent that Kel felt like he was spinning a dozen tops while the bard kept adding more.

“No no no, not like that,” he stopped mid-verse to correct Kel’s current illusion depicting a battle. Of course, he couldn’t depict an entire battlefield, but he was able to create at least two soldiers who represented the fray, slashing silently at each other while the music played. “It needs more blood,” the bard demanded. “And if you can make the Sephirian soldier look more heroic - maybe a stronger chin?” Kel silently adjusted, concentrating so hard that he was almost sweating. This was rough. “Perfect. Let’s take a break.”

Relieved, Kel released the illusion and both men faded into the ether. In his mind, he could still see them, slashing and dodging and scowling. He was probably going to see them in his sleep from how long he had practiced.

“I need a drink. Whiskey?” the bard offered

“Just a cider, thanks.”

“Coming right up,” he said, walking over and behind the bar. “You’re very good you know,” Jasper said when he returned, setting the drinks down on the table between them. That was not something Kel was expecting to hear considering the barrage of criticism and corrections he had been receiving for the last couple of hours.

“Thank you.” He replied, slightly taken aback.

“I’ve never seen someone maintain illusions like those.”

“It’s just a cantrip.”

“No it’s not.” He sat, reclined in a chair with his legs crossed, strumming quietly between drinks. “Maybe you’re using the same principles as a cantrip as your foundation, but two figures swinging at each other is not a simple spell. I can tell just from the sweat on your brow.” So he did know a bit about spell work. Had he just been intentionally pushing Kel to see how complicated he could make the images?

“I might have improved on it a little.” Kel blushed. He had practiced illusions the most, just because they were entertaining and got the most attention. People didn’t exactly applaud when he did things like managing to not get cut or causing a gust of wind to blow.

“Indeed. Valir tells me you made a wolf stalk around the room. She was so convinced it was real, she thought it was going to knock over the glasses on the bar!” He laughed. “Wish I could’ve seen that.”

The bard continued to strum absentmindedly as he mused. “Music is a form of magic, you know. It can influence people - make you feel certain ways. I’ve seen performers cause crowds to riot. I’ve seen artists quell a crowd too. It’s a powerful art, once you get down to the core of it.”

“Can you do that sort of thing?”

The bard shook his head. “No, not me. I just play pretty tunes and encourage folks to get drunk. They tip more that way.” He laughed, but something about the way he said it made Kel think that maybe there was more to him than that.

“Do you ever travel, Jasper?”

The man shrugged. “Did my traveling. Got a steady gig here, now. I’m not going to complain. When you can find a good thing, it’s not wise to let go.” He took a swig of his whisky. “Right. Let’s get back to it.”

They practiced so long that Kel was amazed Jasper’s fingers weren’t bleeding. When he finally released him, the light outside was fading into late afternoon. “Don’t bother coming before a’Twinkling hour,” he called out after Kel. “All the amateur acts will warm the crowd ‘til then.” Gods that was late. At least he barely needed to sleep. Valir wasn’t around, instead a sulky man with a patchy beard was tending the bar. Kel would have to wait to ask her for a primer on speaking spells.

Instead, Kel wandered around the city, hoping to spot a glimpse of the girl who had stolen his satchel. It was still just as overwhelming as it had been before, but he was starting to get used to it. There was the eastern tree, Ruach, the western tree, Nephesch and the South-Eastern tree, Nevaresk. The northern and southern trees, curiously, did not have names displayed anywhere. He took in the sights as he crossed the massive bridges between each tree, hundreds of feet above the ground. The slash of mountains to the north, clouds hung low - looking blue - on the horizon beyond and he couldn’t imagine what the land was like beyond it. In the distance, before those mountains, he could see the capital. White beacon and walls. He could just barely make it out against the backdrop of snow capped peaks. Somewhere near there was the academy. That was where his answers lay. But if he wanted to get there, he would have to find Maximilian. And before that, he wanted to get his things back.

The festival was starting up in earnest that day. At night, all of the paper lanterns would be lit. Venders were setting up stalls along the winding roads of the Roots and where they could on the platforms of the Branches. The smell of savory roasting meats and vegetables permeated the air. Tops and pinwheels were selling like crazy as kids ran around spending money their parents had given them. Most impressive, however, were the masks. Beautiful, intricately designed masks were being hawked in several stalls at every tree.

Designed to fool the spirits that wandered the lantern-lit paths, they could be ferocious, cute, or even both. Kel knew he would need one if he hoped to approach the thief at all. It occurred to him that something unassuming and innocent might be best. He decided to forgo the wolves, foxes, and strange creatures that were designed to scare away bad spirits. He purchased a rabbit mask, white and mottled brown, with ears that he hoped weren’t too conspicuous, with the last of his remaining change. He didn’t like spending like that, but he would earn more later that night. This was a necessary expense.

By the time the sun rested low on the horizon, the crowds had begun to thicken. This would be prime pick-pocketing and satchel-snatching time. There was a chance he wouldn’t find her, but he had to try. He kicked himself for not calling Poe out immediately when she had grabbed his bag, but something told him it was better that he hadn’t. Being chased out of town by an angry mob was probably not a good way to continue his journey.

The hunt was long, but not terribly boring. In fact, at times it was hard to concentrate on his mission with all of the festivities and revelry happening around him. Wearing the rabbit mask and immersing himself in the crowd, Kel once again made his way around the trees, taking time to scan for the thief as he did so. A few times he thought he saw her, but her mask was unfortunately pretty common. Luckily, however, the design did not appear to be very popular with young girls. Men and women, all fairly tall or of reasonable girth, wore the long-beaked mask as they caroused. None had the slight, impish frame of his thief.

Dismayed, but not giving up just yet, Kel made his way back to the first tree, Nevaresk. As he neared a toy vendor, he froze. There she was. Her mask was down, giving her the appearance of a small bird with an oversized head. She was nodding excitedly as she exchanged what was probably one of his coins for a handful of toys. “Poe,” he murmured, trying to look nonchalant and blend into the crowd. A presence at his feet told him his shadowy ally had arrived.

“Thief?” it hissed.

“Yes. With the bird mask.”

“Bird?”

“Pointy nose.” Kel motioned to show what it looked like. She was busy chatting animatedly with the vendor. His satchel was slung around her shoulders and he watched as she bundled up the toys in her arms. Kel felt his anger begin to boil. “Do you see her?”

“Yes...time to steal.” Poe slunk away, dodging between legs and under stalls. Kel wondered that no one else seemed to notice. Was his affinity with the creature the only reason he could see it? The thought was suddenly very alarming - if something like Poe could move around unseen by the people around it, what other horrors were crawling around in the night, just under folk’s noses. “Wait, Poe,” he whispered but the creature was too far to hear him.

As Poe crept closer, Kel himself began to sidle through the crowd trying to catch up. He shuffled closer, through a group of teens dancing and laughing. He danced through himself, giving a little solute as he did. In a way, he wished he could actually enjoy the festivities instead of using them as a disguise. They regarded him with mirthful laughter and claps on the back. Poe was almost to her. It glanced over at him with its luminous eyes, a spirit among the unsuspecting masses, and gestured for him to catch up. Then they disappeared around a corner.

Kel hurried as fast as he could to disentangle himself from the dancing crowd. Poe had pursued the thief down what looked like an alley. A particularly large branch that ran for quite a length of the tree had boards cleverly fixed between it and the tree to form the floor, a simple feat of engineering that gave the impression that they were anywhere but hundreds of feet above the ground. Red lanterns lined the wooden walls, giving everything a warm, albeit sinister glow.

As Kel moved further in he could see dark figures at the end of the alley but it was hard to tell who was who in the dim lantern light. When he was almost to the end, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Wooden toys littered the ground. A cloaked figure lay prone on the boardwalk.

Poe turned around, head rotating before its skeletal body caught up. There was a splash of red across its dark skin, dripping from claws that had seemed, up until this moment, largely ornamental.

“Poe, what have you done?” Kel uttered, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

“Stealing,” Poe hissed gleefully, its hollow eyes glittering in the lantern light.