“To succeed, planning alone is insufficient. One must improvise as well.”

  ― Isaac Asimov,

  As was always the case when an expedition was about to get under way, Parsifal spent his final days at home herding cats, putting out fires, and generally vibrating on his last nerve. All, of course, without letting any of the frustrations and nerves show on his eternally professional face.

  “Ugh. Whoever is responsible for the notion that butlers must only ever show a professional face, even in the direst extremity has a lot to answer for.” It wasn’t a new thought, and it didn’t help him any, given that he’d internalized that habit decades ago. Still, he periodically sent up a prayer to his own patron god, Sebas, that appropriate punishments be applied to that individual, whose name was long since lost to history.

  Already today, he’d had to partially unpack the Baronet’s gear so that he could verify that his journal had been packed – despite Parsifal’s repeated assurances. The ship captain had him tracking down a replacement deckhand after one of her own crew had suddenly been taken with food poisoning and would need to be left behind. That wouldn’t have been hard, except that the shipper’s guild was insisting on additional penalty fees for the last-minute accommodation and requiring a senior guild member be hired given the nominal danger of the expedition. The commandant’s grandchildren had yet to turn up but had already made it clear that they expected the expedition to be run in a regimented style more or less anathema to the way the baronet generally functioned. It had taken three days of polite but tense messages to get them to concede that it was unreasonable to expect the aging baronet to suddenly change his ways. Parsifal had already tentatively allotted them to the second team, which was likely to adopt a more classically structured approach.

  The beastkin embassy had sent over some rather obvious spies to inquire, once again, about their intended movements within the kingdom – only to be sent off with the same tired assurances. Parsifal could understand their concern, since expeditions of this sort HAD been used for espionage purposes in the past, but he’d rather unreasonably hoped it wouldn’t be an issue this time, as their two nations had been on generally good terms for at least twenty years. That had prevented any overly direct questioning, but frankly he’d rather have simply been questioned under a truthsaying potion – given they weren’t actually spying on the Asmerians. It would have been less painful than their awkward, unpracticed attempts to catch him in a lie. Parsifal had always found beastkin rather easy to read, the emotions of all but the best trained given away by the position and motion of their ears and tails. These individuals had received SOME training, meaning the artificial stillness of their bodies gave away that training. In his experience, only a very few, generally high-leveled beastkin could truly feign emotions other than those they currently felt. His assurances falling on deaf, and unusually static, ears, it had taken nearly an hour before he’d been able to convince them to give up and make their departure. The only substantive thing that had come from the meeting was the added requirement to provide passage for an official dungeon inspector to tag along.

  “What a massive waste of time... And now, I have to go arrange space for another person, as well as see what else has gone awry since last evening. Probably for the best that I haven’t met the new deckhand yet. 50/50 odds his Divinity’s government actually HAS inserted a spy into our crew – though what in His name they intend to spy upon is a mystery to me. I half suspect that the Asmerians’ concern stirred our government into investigating what exactly they don’t want us to see...” He sighed and shook his head. “Not like I can do anything about that, except hope our spies are better than the ones they sent here. Amateurs.”

  ***************************************

  Dhesmila was very near to snarling at the appointed dungeon inspector, not that it would help. The meeting she’d arranged with the adventurer’s guild had started off quite promisingly. She’d been ushered in to meet with the guildmaster for the capital with no awkward questions asked. The aging buffalo-kin had heard her out politely, but made clear the official guild policy was to stay out of politics.

  “As you KNOW, Dhesmila, by longstanding policy and governmental agreement, the adventurer’s guild cannot be hired for espionage purposes or any other political activity. And it seems clear from what you HAVEN’T said, that you are aware of that fact. We will not spy on the expedition for you, nor allow you to send a spy pretending to be a dungeon inspector.”

  She’d forced a strained smile. “And her Majesty’s government would never ask that of you. We would simply like to speak with the existing, intended inspector in hopes that he or she would be alert to infractions on the part of the Imperial party. No spying needed... We simply hope to make him or her aware of the possibility of unacceptable political activities from members of the Imperial guild branch.”

  The guildmaster clearly regarded that as sophistry from the cock of his head and his thrashing tail, but in the end, he had been enough of a patriotic citizen to not call her out on her evasive wording. “I will introduce you to the assigned inspector. I can hardly refuse to go that far. That said, she’s rather a stickler for protocol, so I doubt you’ll get much satisfaction from it. You will, most likely, have to be satisfied with the fact that any infractions she observes will, undoubtedly, be called out.” His rather stiff smile and gentle snort did not seem to bode well for Dhesmila’s unstated, yet obvious, hopes.

  That foreboding was in the process of being validated. The substantial rhinokin woman who’d turned out to be the inspector was not only utterly humorless in her intent to follow the official procedures to the letter, but she was also bright enough and clever enough to see through Dhesmila’s attempts to cajole her into going beyond those procedures to report on the expedition itself.

  “Apologies, Undersecretary, but that will not be possible. The rules governing the behavior of dungeon inspectors are quite clear; my remit is solely to inspect and observe the dungeon itself, not the delvers who enter it. By Guild regulation and long tradition, they are entitled to their privacy, and their actions and tactics are not subject to report unless they violate Guild strictures in my presence. I will, of course, take note of their behavior as it pertains to the functioning of the dungeon, but the contents of their discussion and their behavior outside of the dungeon itself are not subject to my investigation.”

  Dhesmila nodded, once more, and tried again. “But if they are spies in our nation, here to perform illicit tasks, should you not report them to the relevant authorities – in this case myself – as an upstanding citizen?”

  Tenrea shook her massive, double-horned head slowly. “Alas, no. Other than in the case of direct and imminent harm, guild inspectors are required to maintain absolute neutrality. The Guild is expected to be above such things. Spying is a fact of life, I’m afraid, and the guild has, by long-standing policy, refused to participate in such things – either to help or to hinder. If we didn’t, we’d no longer be welcomed by many nations.”

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  Now Dhesmila really did snarl, at least subvocally. “So, if you observe them spying, you not only won’t stop them, you won’t even tell us what they did?!”

  The towering woman nodded, completely undaunted. “That is, nominally, the case, if not how I’d frame it. The most I can do for you is to try to dissuade overtly illegal or dangerous actions by speaking with them directly. Ultimately, however, it is not my place to prevent them or to report them.”

  Dhesmila largely gave up in the face of this steady resistance. “I can only hope you’ll be as rigid and upright with them as you are with me!”

  Tenrea did, finally, smile at that – awkwardly displaying her massive, grinding teeth. “Oh, I’m like this with everybody... Eventually, you’ll learn to appreciate it.”

  ****************************************

  Euphisia hadn’t really been surprised to hear from Raina that they’d reached out to Rangvar as well, though it had still been a shock to the system. Raina politely took a sip of her tea (black, two sugars) while she waited for her friend and former mentor to gather herself.

  “He suggested that I reach out and let you know. I should have considered that myself,” and she shrugged a bit ruefully, “but I’m afraid I often forget that you broke up on ill terms.”

  Euphisia sighed, a bit rueful herself. “I understand. There are days when I forget how ugly the breakup was myself.”

  Raina hadn’t ever asked directly about the cause of that separation. Both parties had made it clear enough that they didn’t want to speak about it, that she’d felt obliged to honor that. She’d heard lots of rumors, of course, the academic community being what it was, but none of them had seemed all that plausible.

  Euphisia blew out a deep breath and relaxed her tail from its death grip on the table leg. “It’s fine. Well, it’s not really, but it SHOULD be. It’s been years and it makes a lot of sense that you’d contact us both. Realistically, we should probably work together with Sylvanus, but I’m not sure either of us are really ready for that. Enough hateful things were said, that I don’t know if we could even look each other in the eyes.”

  The lamia looked so sad, with her head down and her tail limp, that Raina’s forbearance broke under her desire to help. “Euphy, I don’t know what passed between the two of you, and I don’t think I want to know. But the two of you are among Ahmed and I’s dearest friends, and it pains us that the two of you can’t even speak with each other. I promise you that I won’t try to push the two of you together as a couple, but can we at least try to get you back to the point where you can be in the same room without a bitter argument?”

  Euphisia smiled weakly at her old/young friend. “I’d like that, I think. But how?”

  Raina hugged her, impulsively, wrapping her arms around her friend’s slender back and squeezing. “Well, we’ll start by having Ahmed check to see whether Rangvar is ready to give reconciliation a shot. I’m hopeful. He seemed to harbor quite a few regrets and no longer seems angry; I can’t make any promises, but we’ll start by passing notes for you. It’ll be like we were all students again!”

  ***************************************

  “Seriously, Ahmed? You want to pass notes back and forth between Euphy and I? Between the two of us, we have over 800 years of experience and you want to treat us like children?!” Rangvar’s appalled face abruptly collapsed. “Yeah. Alright. If you think that’s best, then I’m in. We can’t keep on like this.”

  Ahmed said nothing but thumped his morose friend on the back and passed him another bottle of beer. Suddenly he snorted into his own beer in amusement, garnering an annoyed glance from his half-dwarven drinking buddy.

  At his friend’s arched eyebrow, Ahmed chuckled and spoke up. “Sorry, old man. Just had a mental image of two kids in elementary school passing the most ridiculously erudite and overwritten notes on the playground. I’m pretty sure the two of you are going to do better than ‘Do you like me? Check yes or no.’”

  Rangvar punched him in the shoulder, dialing his strength back so as not to actually hurt his visibly aging friend. “I expect we can do better than that... Still, we’re going to have to have an awkward conversation at some point, and it can’t be in notes passed by a third party. I suppose it’s best we work up to that.” He looked briefly haunted, then shook himself and took a long pull at the bottle of beer. He dropped the empty next to the earlier ones. “Well, let’s work on a draft, then.”

  Ahmed, who’d had maybe one too many already, looked briefly puzzled. “All I’ve got are bottles?”

  Rangvar snorted. “A draft of the first note, Ahmed – you lightweight! Frankly, I might need something a bit harder, personally... And no sending the note until I get a chance to look it over when I’m sober again.” He shook a finger in Ahmed’s face, noting that his friend’s eyes weren’t quite tracking it correctly. “Best I write and you tell me what you think, I’m thinking. That way there’s a chance we’ll be able to read it tomorrow.”

  **************************************************

  In the end, I hadn’t managed to pin down any concrete plans with the Redcrest elders, and I wasn’t entirely clear when Glynesha was planning to inform the rest of the tribe that I was available to speak with. I didn’t even know if she intended a broad announcement, or just a gradual dissemination of the news to those who would take it better. I wasn’t really a fan of the wait and see pattern I was feeling obliged to abide by, but I was going to need to trust her judgement here. It wasn’t really critical, but I didn’t really want to feel responsible for exacerbating the trauma of some of the refugee avians.

  I made the conscious decision to drop it for the time being. In what was rapidly becoming a highlight of my day, I retired to my core library. I tried to think of it that way, at least, though the instantaneous change in viewpoints didn’t really provide that kind of gradual transition or the accompanying sense of ease.

  Still, I had a message from a new contact, and I was generally pleased with Ahmed and Raina’s efforts on my behalf. My eidetic memory allowed me to recall that Janelle HAD mentioned Rangvar once, if not by name exactly. I’d already read the first book he’d suggested, having been gifted it by Ornthalas months before. I downloaded the other two titles he’d mentioned, and figured I’d read the newer, shorter, less footnoted one this evening – but not until after I’d responded to his missive.

  He’d already been a big help in some ways. I’d gotten most of that background information from Sky Islands and Their Mysterious Past, but between the mediocre score from the Author Evaluator and Rangvar’s take, it was helpful to get an independent evaluation of what was likely accurate. I passed along some basic information about the sky island – keeping in reserve for the time being what I’d found out about the void-aspected dwarves. I did share a basic warning about Mayphesselth, but spent most of my time addressing the Aubesan occupation and the gnomish Free City of Relkhold. Mostly, I made clear that my focus was mostly on the earlier occupations of Tel Dorinth and whatever he’d found out about the reported functioning and/or construction of the islands themselves. It didn’t sound like he’d be able to tell me much about their inner workings or their deep history, but I had hopes he’d know of at least some of the more recent residents. That might help me figure out where to look for their remains and to put likely cultural associations to the ruins I’d already found.

  I sent that off shortly after midnight, then turned my attention to Theories on the Skylands: A Survey. The Sylphain was a new language for me, and an entirely distinct logographic text, but the Learn Languages skill was as overpowered as ever, and the book was both informative and entertainingly written – something I rarely find to be true. I settled in to enjoy as the dungeon sank into a mostly dormant state for the night.