“Tempered?! You’re telling me I have a tempered stat? You can grant people… a tempered. Stat!? L-like it was nothing?” Lynnria stammered. “Just… just what? By snapping your fingers?”

“It’s only the one—I like fingers in my ass! I’m a naughty girl,” Mia replied blithely. Save for the last bit, which sounded like she was a phone-sex operator. “So far, anyway. I did try to activate the second, but it won’t seem to take without the bind.”

Lynnria made a strangled noise in her throat.

“And you lay this on me like it was some kind of afterthought? Do you realize? Do you have any idea what they would do? What lengths my Clan would go to just get their hands on you?”

Jax spat to one side dismissively. “No sense in letting them get no fancy ideas, then.”

“We’re not exactly going around with a sign around our necks, Lynnria,” I agreed.

“And we know ye’d not go telling no tales,” Jax finished. “Were I sittin’ where you be, I’d ne’er let on to such as them what wronged me like that. Less call ‘em Clan. We’s yer Clan. Not they. Let them’uns lie in the dirt where they belong, says I. Whilst ye walk proud with yer fancy, new tits a-bouncing fer spite.”

Lynnria nodded faintly, evidently liking the sound of that, but still quite worried.

“But… but just look at you all. Anyone with eyes can see that something’s off. Especially once they realize you’re nowhere near as powerful as someone who looks like you should be.”

I nodded slowly. That was a fair point.

Charisma was generally seen as a useless stat by the populace, so for all of us to have invested so heavily into it, one would normally assume we had reached a point where any other stat investment had become prohibitively expensive.

However, I was increasingly finding this view to be borne of ignorance. Charisma was actually quite handy for a magic user. Though still very much in the weeds with it, I had seen glimpses of its eventual power to influence the Words.

And everyone knew that no one knew everything.

“Okay… so then, if anyone asks,” I began, “we can tell them its a Clan thing. Clans have all kinds of hidden, proprietary builds they work toward. Right?”

Lynnria nodded, following along. She had told me as much, after all.

“And clearly, none of us are any sort of ‘local’ kind. So its not unreasonable to claim we’re a wandering Clan who all follow some ridiculous Charisma-based build philosophy.”

“Be only the truth,” Jax agreed.

“I… suppose that would suffice,” Lynnria admitted. “It might even work to our advantage. Not many will pay attention to us if they think we’re a joke.”

I was not so sure about that. I had certainly noticed the way people tended to treat us when we had last walked through town, and I had a feeling there would be more than a few ruffled feathers if it came out that the supposedly powerful adventurers everyone had been fawning over were actually a bunch of clowns.

But it was a small price to pay if it meant passing under the radar of the local bigwigs. If Lynnria’s situation had taught me anything, it was that some people were best avoided. At all costs.

Why the hell is severing not illegal? What does Law even do, if She turns a blind eye to something like that?

“There is one other thing,” Lynnria began again. “You were… handsome enough when we met a few days ago. But now? Donum, you were nowhere close to how you look now. And yet all of us are supposed to have tempered Charisma? How are you out-pacing the rest of us so badly? How can you possibly be this gorgeous?”

I rubbed at the back of my neck, embarrassed. “I… don’t see how that could be.”

Both Jax and Lynnria shot me a look. Like they were wondering whether I was being intentionally dense.

Which… was fair enough. I did have a pretty good idea as to where everyone’s stats were sitting, so it was not like I was unaware of how I stacked up. But those were just numbers. How was I supposed to contextualize something like that?

I had not seen a mirror in ages. And even if I had, what standard was I supposed to judge from? What did masculine attractiveness even look like?

Did I have a more chiseled jawline or something? I was not exactly muscular, so that could not be it. Otherwise…?

The most I could say was that I still had all my limbs attached. Which was nice.

However, Mia decided to approach the question from a much more literal—and fundamentally unhelpful—direction.

“More than possible. Because of your insistence on sticking with Wisdom and Toughness, you have actually outpaced even Arx in that department by 30.769 percent. Rounding, of course. And since you’re not busy, you won’t mind if I show you your updated stat page.”

There were some rummaging sounds.

“Now, where did I put that blasted…? Surely, I must have left it… No? Is it under—? Ah, here we are.”

<ding!>

Despite this over-reliance on numbers being half the problem, I decided against protesting. This was kind of Mia’s whole job and, like any good caretaker, she got a little pissy when the boss dismissed all the work she had put in as inconvenient details.

So, I gave the page a quick skim, not expecting much in the way of changes.

Wisdom and Toughness, up. As expected. Thank you for not screwing me over again, Mia. Which means… Charisma 17? Geez. No wonder.

One day, the girls would inevitably hit numbers like that, I realized. Which was both exciting and terrifying.

Arx was literally the hottest woman I had ever seen, so my brain did not have any means of pushing beyond her example. If there was a sliding scale from dogging to bitching, she was the heavenly chorus.

So to speak.

And yet her Charisma was only a 13? Criminy.

I might not have had a scale for male attractiveness, but I certainly did for women. And while a one-point difference was mostly negligible, four was not.

It was the difference between taking a six and a perfect ten home for dinner. The one would warrant little more than a few nods and comments about what a sweet girl she was, while the second might get a person dragged to one side to receive a stern talking to from one’s mother. After the initial shock wore off, anyway.

Except Jax already was that 10, Arx was a 13, and I had leapfrogged way past either of them. Which meant that if anything, I was dating way under my own league. And that was just batshit-crazy!

The only ‘being’ I knew of who might have been able to compete with any of us was Bline, but Her likeness had faded considerably after having left Her presence. And possibly Mia, as she looked very nearly identical. Though, I had only ever seen her as a hologram and a few half-remembered dreams, so it was hard to say.

Then, there was Ahnbe, but… well, if I had ever known what She looked like, I certainly did not now. There was just a big void in my head where any of that knowledge might have existed.

She sounded sexy, though. I remembered that much. In a… pop-you-like-a-grape sort of way.

Woof…

In any case, none of the Dolilim were going to be slowing down any time soon, and if I was having difficulties now, I could just imagine what it would be like a few Layers down the road.

Maybe I should just take that ‘constantly horny’ debuff Mia was talking about. That way, I could quietly quit the field. Surrender my sensibilities to the inevitable onslaught of debauchery.

Let’s see… what else?

The ‘pending’ notice was still up, so I assumed that meant I was still over-leveled. Again, as expected. The Gem of Power Arx had shoved down my throat had not been small. I would need to be careful not to unintentionally slip into torpor once it became available.

Come to think on it, Arx is going to have that problem for a while now, too. And probably a lot longer than I would.

Hmm… hope that doesn’t come back to bite us.

“Master…” Jax said, cutting into my musings.

When I looked up, I found her expression marred by concern.

“Did I hear that a’right? Ye gots Arx beat by 30… point… summat? Do that mean ye gots a… 30…”

She frowned and began to silently count on her fingers. Then sighed in frustration when she ran out. “Well, more’n 40 Charisma, anyhow. Be that a’right? That don’t sound right.”

I stared at her for a moment, not quite comprehending.

“I said thirty percent, you clodpoll.” Mia stepped away for several seconds to get the irritated swearing out of her system. “Excuse me, my lord. I think I need a lie-down. I have had quite enough for one day. Call me once you decide to spend that skill-point. I have some ideas for you to consider…”

With that, she fell silent. And, I discovered, all eyes were on me. Waiting.

For a moment, I looked from Jax to Lynnria to my stat block and back again, not quite sure where to begin.

Well, one thing at a time, I guess.

“Jax, it’s a math thing. But we haven’t even gotten to multiplication, so I can’t explain it to you just yet. Don’t worry, we’ll get there. But no. I do not have a 40 in Charisma. It’s only 17.”

Although, she did have a 35 in Devotion, I noticed. For reasons. Still have no idea what that’s about.

I shook my head, then turned. Not important right now.

“Lynnria. Again, it’s complicated. But the short version is, Ahnbe stabbed me with a glowing finger-thing, and now I get bonus points to Charisma if I invest in stats She happens to like.”

Lynnria began combing through her ponytail nervously. “Mercy’s hands on a dick whistler,” she breathed.

And the expression is still evolving.

“And with ‘only’ 17 Charisma… You weren’t kidding, were you? Even after that card, I still half-thought you might have been. But no. You’ve actually been touched by the divine. The Mother of Monsters… literally—”

“Used him fer a fud pump, aye,” Jax supplied bluntly. “Still of two minds about that one, mind. But what’s a Dolilim supposed to do when a goddess rapes her man?”

I winced a bit. Saying that out loud—here, where unseen Faen were almost certainly listening—might not have been the wisest move.

Still not sure if rape is the right word… I mean… other than technically.

It was kind of hard to get mad when someone hot enough to break your mind takes an interest in you. However inappropriately.

I was not sure how Lynnria was ultimately going to take that information, either. But if her expression was anything to go by, you would have thought Jax had just started vomiting eels.

Fortunately enough, I was saved from further explanation by Arx’s timely reentry.

“Hey, guys,” she called apprehensively, her head just poking through the crack of the door. “Are we… good? All better now?”

I favored her with a gentle smile, as always just happy to see her again despite the brevity of her absence. Also, because she was kind of a dork.

“I don’t know if ‘better’ is the right word, but we’re not crying anymore,” I reported.

She scowled, then shot a quick glare at Lynnria before narrowing her eyes at me.

“Oh, you meant she was crying,” she deduced with relief. “You should be more specific. I was about to get upset. Now, come on. Our clothes are ready.”

That had been a bit rude but, with how their morality seemed to be aligned, it was not exactly unexpected. Nor did I yet have any idea how I could address the problem. Or if I even had the right to.

So I simply nodded before standing, then lent a hand to Lynnria. “I really am sorry you had to go through all that. There… really aren’t words.”

She let out a long sigh as she came to her feet. “Donum, it’s… I don’t know. It was… I’m not… And now with this? It’s really a lot to take in, a-and—”

“It’s complicated,” I finished for her, smiling.

“Complicated. Right,” she agreed with a rueful shake of her head.

Jax chuckled before gathering us into a companionable hug. “Aye, that’s a’right. We’s all gots the complexions together. Now, lets get dressed up fancy-like so’s the critter what’s jealous she ain’t had a taste o’ the Master yet can air out her panties.”

Lynnria let a sound like she could not decide whether to laugh or cry.

“Whistling dicks…”

*****

“Well? What do you think?” Arx asked as we stepped through the door.

Apparently, she had taken the opportunity to preemptively don her outfit. And from the eager expression on her face, I assumed she had done so solely to be first in line for compliments.

Not that I was one for high-fashion, of course. Or particularly good at compliments.

And the outfit… well…?

The top half was a red blouse that looked like something an 18th century blackjack dealer might wear, complete with poofy sleeves, a high collar, and brass buttons. She even had one of those thin, black armbands they liked to wear around one bicep for no apparent reason.

Meanwhile, the bottom half was just a pair of thigh-high tights with some securing straps disappearing up her waistcoat. She was even wearing a bit of a thong. Or some kind of triangle to cover her mons, anyway.

Which meant her butt cheeks and the tail swinging between them were left exposed to the open air. Not that I had a problem with that, but she would probably have gotten herself arrested wearing that in public where I was from.

Unfortunately, whatever the tailor had been going for was being spoiled by the evident discomfort of its wearer. Despite the smile plastered over her features, Arx was fidgeting like she was covered in ants and kept scratching at the material over her chest—whether consciously or not—literally to the point where large rents had opened up to expose her cleavage.

It was kind of funny in an unintentional sort of way. True to the tailor’s word, the garment kept trying to heal itself, which meant it had started sewing over and through the amulet she kept hanging from around her neck. So she seemed to be stuck in a frustrating battle of attrition with the thing.

Then there were the leggings… the bottoms of which had not survived contact with her feet—and the spikes protruding from her toes.

Weirdly… I kind of liked the overall effect. It gave Arx that ‘proper lady cast into a savage land… and become savage in turn’ kind of look that was popular for heroines in those old turn-of-the-century serials. I might have even asked her to keep it…

Except her vagina appeared to be trying to gum its way to freedom.

“You look beautiful, Arx,” I lied baldly.

Sexy? Of a certainty and easily, at that. She would have been hard-pressed not to be. Especially with the cleavage she was sporting. I was much more used to the free-hanging look, so it was amazing to see how much bigger they looked once given some support. Which was almost certainly the point of push-up bras, now that I was thinking on it.

However, beautiful? Graceful? Elegant? If anything, she looked more like a wild animal on the verge of chewing through her own foot.

“But you would look beautiful in anything.”

She grimaced, having detected the falsehood before I even opened my mouth. However, she still took the attempted complement with grace and curtsied.

“Dearest is too kind,” she managed through her teeth.

“You aren’t even wearing the hat!”

Arx did not turn to look at the tailor, which told me all I needed to know about her opinion of whatever this was going to be. However, when I looked…

Honestly, it took me a moment to figure out what I was even supposed to be seeing. The tailor seemed to be gesturing toward a weirdly-symmetric pile of laundry sitting on his counter. Yet, once I got a little closer, I realized it was actually an extremely wide-brimmed hat topped with what had to be hundreds of delicately-folded flowers, all made from a random assortment of cloth textures.

And all of which had been selected from an array that could not have been more violently removed from color theory had the man tried. Which he might well have. Artists could be like that.

All in all—and with the outfit it had been meant to go with—well, if there had ever been a candidate for the most horrible taste to ever be graced with such excellent execution, this was it.

No wonder this crap was so expensive.

Hesitant at first, I began to lift the hat from the counter, only to discover that the thing had to weigh close to thirty pounds.

“Watcher’s breath. Have you tried this thing on yet?”

“It’s a little… big,” she said. Which about as diplomatic a reply as this monstrosity could ever warrant.

“Fah! What is a little discomfort in the name of fashion?!” The tailor sniffed. “And stop your scratching! You will wear out the skill enhancement before you even leave the shop.”

Arx grimaced. “I… can’t. There needs to be a hole here. I can’t… I can’t breathe otherwise.”

I nodded along. If it had been me, I would have stoically let the man dress me in whatever ridiculous outfit he wanted, then go home and hang the thing in a dusty corner of my closet to quietly forget about.

However, it was not me, and Arx looked in genuine distress. Plus, I was pretty sure a guy with an attitude like his would expect his clientèle to be just as much up their own ass as he was.

“Yes, I quite agree. Won’t do at all.” I tutted aggressively. “And just look at what happened to her leggings. Did you forget they had claws?”

The man stiffened, caught off-guard, then cleared his throat.

“All part of the process, I assure you. One does not deal in bespoke items without a few… final adjustments,” he assured me coolly. “Here, off with it. I’ll take care of that while the rest of you try on your own selections.”

Behind me, I heard Jax whisper into Lynnria’s ear, “The Master likes to claim a’times he ain’t nobility.”

Lynnria sputtered softly. “How utterly ridiculous.”

*****

Far too much time later, we said our goodbyes to the beaming tailor, two silver richer and smiling like old friends parting after far too many drinks. However, the very moment we closed the door on the man, the lot of us sagged with relief.

“I am not wearing this,” Arx announced, letting her hat fall from her head. Which did not settle to the ground so much as thump.

But at the very least, the rest of her outfit had been fixed. Her leggings had been trimmed back to allow for her claws and hemmed to prevent fraying. Then, they had been secured in place by some sort of leather half-shoe which only served to cover her ankles. Not that they functioned as footwear with the way she walked.

Meanwhile, the blouse had been modified to include a pair of wide lapels so that her ‘girls’ could get some air. So she was not scratching at it anymore, but every time I looked at her, she instinctively sucked in a breath sufficient to stretch every button almost to the breaking point.

I appreciated the effect, but I had a feeling the garment was not going to last all that long. Unlike the panties, which did not survive much beyond the hat.

“Byech!” She shivered in disgust as she hurled it away. “Feels like that ‘stit-sucking thing gave me a rash!”

“You would think you’d have learned your lesson the last time,” I pointed out. “Why did you even bother?”

She cast her eyes to the floor, mid-scratch, and shrugged like a penitent child—perhaps, caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“You liked Lynnria’s so much, I thought… maybe I could tough it out?”

I had to smirk. Of course, that would have been why.

“Well, in that case, I will accept the sentiment in the spirit in which it was intended,” I said, pulling her close.

She let out a little gasp, perhaps surprised that I would initiate. But that did not lesson her ardor.

The kiss we shared was intense for all its brevity, but it was next to impossible for it to be otherwise. There was a kind of magnetism between us. Almost like an event horizon. Beyond it lay inescapable passion.

Thankfully—to my sensibilities if not my libido—Lynnria remained understandably curious as to her potential future condition and had knelt to inspect the discarded cloth with some seriousness.

“I can’t understand why this would bother you so much,” she observed thoughtfully, running the material between her fingers. “It’s so soft… it almost feels like water.”

It had been an innocent observation. Even so, it was enough to drive a wedge through the mounting flames of our desire, and I pulled away before things escalated farther. It had been a near thing. A moment more, and I felt sure the two of us would have been rutting like animals.

Which was… well, maybe not weird, exactly. The fitting process had taken some time, so it had been a couple of hours since my last sexual encounter. But it was different.

It was almost as if those few layers of cloth had created a barrier that we could not help but rebel against. As though enrobing ourselves had become nothing but pantomime. An act. As though clothing itself retained no purpose other than to be discarded in sexual frenzy.

I took a steadying breath, suddenly feeling stifled by my own outfit. The damned thing had been hot to begin with, but now?

Admittedly, it was just a long overcoat, but the fabric was so stiff, it hung out and away from my body like a tube. And with a color scheme somewhere in the vicinity of moss, it looked like I was wearing a fuzzy bell assembled by an interior decorator from the 1970’s.

I had been trying to pretend it was a wizard’s robe.

Not that Arx seemed to mind overmuch. From the way she was looking at me, you would have thought my erection was throbbing out in the open air instead of perfectly concealed behind what felt like inches of wool.

“I don’t know if I can describe it,” she said, turning with some reluctance. “Maybe like… being teased? Constantly. But without any of the good parts. It’s like wearing… frustration.”

Lynnria’s expression turned contemplative.

Her own outfit had not changed much beyond the sporting gear I had met her in. When presented with her choice of the display items, she had instead opted to engage in a little bargaining of her own.

To which, the tailor had readily agreed. We were already making out like bandits—from his perspective—so keeping his prized displays had been a welcome alternative.

As a result, Lynnria now had a convenient flap sewn into the seat of her pants for her tail to slip through. She had even convinced the man to stitch together a pair of those odd, toe-less boots he had made for Arx. I had no idea what their appeal was, but she seemed to like them.

“Still. Seems like a waste to just throw it away.”

“Keep it then.” Arx shrugged indifferently. “For however long you can stand it. Maybe you can even use it to cover that nipple on your wrist. Why do you even still have that thing? I thought you guys were going to sort it out in the hall.”

“Leave it be,” Jax warned, drawing my attention her way.

Of the three of us, her outfit was by far the least offensive.

Her dress had an elegant and classic design for all its simplicity. It was just a narrow loop of black cloth draped over her neck that swooped in two pieces down her front. The cloth widened at her breasts, covering them enough for decency but leaving just a hint to tease at a man’s gaze. The two pieces then trailed down her front behind a wide belt she had strapped about her waist like a girdle before appearing again—this time as a solid piece—rather like the front of a loincloth. The flap ended in a diagonal slice somewhere around her ankles.

Much like Arx, she too was sporting a pair of tights, again secured with a set of those nonsensical boots, all of which came together like some sort of faux thigh-highs. Meanwhile, her hair had been bound up with a strip of leather into a wavy ponytail.

I thought she looked sexy as hell. Expect for the shoulder pads, which would not have been out of place on the bass player for an 80s hair-metal band.

She even has an ax. Ha!

I had no idea what theme the tailor had been going for. We had a sexy rocker. A sexy gambler… or maybe a colorful extra from My Fair Lady? A sports enthusiast. And me. The walking Erlenmeyer flask.

Arx held up her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Just a little harmless fun. I still don’t see why everyone got so bent out of shape about it.”

“Arx…” Jax growled.

“No, it’s okay,” Lynnria said quickly, forestalling her. “You’re right. No one meant any harm. I was just… well, I’d rather not talk about it anymore.”

Arx nodded uncertainly. “If you say so. Look, Lynnria… I know you’re still getting your bearings, but you said something earlier that’s been eating at me. You are not ‘garbage’ in our eyes. You’re lesser. Which… I realize how that sounds, but there is a world of difference. You’re one of us. Down to your roots. No one here would ever want to hurt you.”

“Aye,” Jax agreed. Shortly and with force.

As twisted and awkward as that compliment had been, a glimmer of a smile still managed to slip past Lynnria’s lips. But she schooled her features quickly. She had already shed her tears.

“I think I’ll take your suggestion,” she announced, and began securing the silken garment about her wrist. “When I do… take care of this thing, I want to do it right. And I’ll need a mirror for that. Until then, this will have to do.”

“Good thinking,” I said approvingly.

I always preferred pragmatism where possible, and now that the big stuff was out in the open, I was happy to see Lynnria making an effort to keep a stiff upper lip. Not that I could claim to have done better. Had our roles been reversed, I would have likely been a wreck. But then, I really did not know how long ago all this had happened to her.

Within the last couple of years anyway.

In any case, it was well past time to change the subject. “Let me know when you find one. I’ve been needing to trim up my beard for ages now.”

“And what be so wrong with it, I’m asking?” Jax countered, taking the bait.

Arx nodded, mystified. “Dearest, I don’t think you could look as badly as you think you do if you tried.”

I rolled my eyes. So much bias…

Even with a 17 in Charisma, there was no way a set of malformed and ill-trimmed mutton-chops were going to make me look like anything but a crazed hobo.

“Aye… aye…” Jax agreed musingly, looking me over with a considering eye. “Not liking the new drapes so much, though.”

I quirked an eyebrow. Oh, ho? What’s this? A dissenting opinion?

“Jax!” Arx gasped, scandalized. “He’s our master!”

Jax put hands to hips. “And what about it? Ye think he wants us fawning over him all the time? Nay! ‘Sides… I know ye’d like it better were he showing a bit of skin.”

Arx looked like she wanted to argue, but then she sent a contemplative glance my way.

“I think I’m going to have to agree with Jax,” Lynnria put in.

“Yeah… me too.” I sighed. Even if it was unwilling. “This thing might as well be a sauna. And while we’re on the subject… maybe you should lose the shoulder pads, Jax?”

She pouted slightly before tilting one shoulder down to inspect it. “Really? I thought they made me look tough. A Warrior proper. Even if I ain’t got no armor.”

“What good would it do even if you had?” Arx argued, latching onto the topic now that it had strayed from me. “We both know you wouldn’t wear it. Besides, those things are just going to get in your way.”

“There be truth in that,” Jax admitted weakly. “It’s just… I never had no fancy claes a’fore. Like them minted sorts? Seems a shame to cut bits away.”

“Jax, I’m not going to claim to know much about high fashion, but all the wealthy people I’ve ever met seem to favor elegance and simplicity.”

Of course, by ‘met,’ I meant, ‘seen on TV.’

“But maybe that’s just a human thing. What do you think, Lynnria?” I asked. She was the only person I knew of who had traveled in those circles.

“If you’re asking about that guy’s fashion sense…” Lynnria began, “he’s not far off the mark for what the bigger laoi Clans like to wear. Although, they all like to have unified themes for the Clan with slight differences in cut and color to signify the family. His style seems to be all over the place.”

“What do you expect, going to a jauneau tailor in laoi territory?” Arx retorted. “Not many of them west of the Raemuth. He’s probably just imitating what he’s seen around here without understanding the why of it.”

A zyonu? Is that what his race is called?

Of course, I had never heard of the Raemuth, either. But from context, I assumed it was either a river or a mountain range. I decided to just nod sagely.

“Ah, well…” Jax gestured for Arx’s knife with a sigh and began cutting away the pads. “Big, floppy tadgers like these probably would’ve ripped clean off the first time we got into it, anyway.”

Arx winced. “‘Snails, Jax. Did you have to phrase it like that?”

I glanced between the two of them for a moment, a little lost. I still had no idea what a ‘tadger’ was but, with how often Jax used the word, by that point I was too afraid to ask.

Feeling awkward, I snatched up Arx’s hat and began fiddling with it. Out here, with the lighting being so much better, it was obvious how much effort the tailor had put into making the thing. It was just a shame he was totally colorblind. There really was no other reasonable explanation.

Hmm… what’s this metal bit?

It was at that point where a chain of events—varying extremely by degree of importance—began to unfold.

The first was that the doorknob to the tailor’s shop fell clean off, leaving nothing behind save bare wood. Which was not so surprising, all considered. If there was one thing I was getting used to in this place, it was that passages tended to seal themselves rather permanently once used.

However, that represented a change and, as per the pattern we had earlier noted, we paused expectantly for the coming vibrations. And it was fortunate we had.

The ground did not vibrate so much as lurch out from under our feet, causing the lot of us to stumble, brace ourselves on furniture, or simply collapse to the floor depending on Agility. But it was over quickly.

“Whatever that is, it’s getting worse,” Arx observed, the only one of us who had been unaffected.

“Ye don’t say,” Jax groaned dryly. “Lucky I did nay stab meself with this poker o’ yer’n.”

“Are you alright, Donum?” Lynnria called.

“I’m good!”

My voice had been a bit muffled by the textile topiary I had fallen into, so I had needed to raise my voice. But as I found my feet again, the little bit of metal I had discovered came away into my hand, revealing itself to be an overlarge hat-pin. And somehow, it had been the only thing holding the entire mass of flowers in place.

I stared in shock as the large bushel fell about my ankles, the now naked hat in one hand and the huge needle in the other. I felt like I had just desecrated a sculpture.

“It’s alright, Dearest,” Arx said comfortingly. “I was going to leave it here, anyway.”

“I know. It’s just… well, the guy had to have spent so much time on it…”

“Not like he ever needs to know,” Jax observed. “Even if we could tell ‘im.”

I tilted my head to one side. That was true enough. Still…

I eyed the remainder of the hat consideringly. Without the flowers, it was just a sad, floppy affair. With an extremely wide brim.

I pursed my lips. Hmm…

With a flourish, I settled the thing on my head and gave it an experimental little jiggle. The sides waggled from side to side jauntily, as though pleased someone might actually consider wearing it.

“What do you think?” I asked. “Wizard’s hat!”

The girls stared at me with varying levels of confusion. I doubted ‘wizard’s hat’ had ever entered their cultural zeitgeist, but I did not care.

It was cool.

As ever, Jax was the first to speak. “I still think ye should show some cock, mate.”

I wrinkled my nose at her. “Hush, you.”

And that was when the final domino fell. With a screech of metal that brought to mind massive gears falling into place and grinding into motion…

The door began to stir.