Day 69,

We made it onto the floating island.  Most of us anyway.

Apparently my Catacomb nightmares were enough to wake up everyone else in the room, which was enough for them to wake me up in turn.  Perhaps because of that, I don’t remember them near as vividly as I usually do.  Just a feeling of frustration bordering on despair and a sense of attempting to ascend, but no matter how many paths upward I found, there was enough downward travel between each one that all I was really doing was slowing my descent.

If there’s a silver lining to be had there, it’s that it meant we were all awake, eating breakfast, and ready to go before sunup.  Except for Maiko.

I followed Lin as she headed downstairs to go check on her and wake her up.  To my relief, Maiko reacted more calmly than I expected when Lin pulled the door to the hidden chamber all the way open and let the light of the archives flood in to wake its occupant.  Maybe it was the blanket, maybe she’s just normally chill in the morning and I was overestimating the strength of her fight-or-flight tendencies.  What Lin didn’t seem to be expecting was for a still half-asleep Maiko to climb out of bed at the mention of food and walk out the door past us in her usual state of dress, or rather lack thereof.

Lin’s… distraction… by this turn of events put her lack of interest in a husband in a different light.

Which is to say that it was left to me to talk drowsy Maiko into putting the clothes and cloak from yesterday back on before going upstairs – at least until we got out of the Village – while Lin’s brain was briefly short circuiting too much to do anything but stare.  As Maiko went back into the room to get dressed, Lin finally managed to say something.  That something was near-unintelligibly fast with words running together, but from context she seemed to be excusing herself since she started quickly walking in the direction of the stairs before she even finished.

After she left, Maiko asked why humans’ faces go red like that sometimes.  Do we change colors?  Were we trying to copy her?

After a moment of thinking how to phrase it, I said it’s an involuntary reaction we have to certain emotions and stimuli.  Anger, embarrassment, strenuous physical activity, and unexpectedly seeing someone with little clothes on will all do it.  Along with some other things.  You really have to take context into account to interpret it.

She said people are confusing.

I agreed.

Some minutes later the five of us were all upstairs, fed, packed, ready to go, and staring out the window waiting for the shade outside to disappear.  The mists themselves were back to mere wisps along the ground, and as we watched the street filled with a warmer light than what was spilling from the library.  Within seconds the shade that had stood outside our door all night melted into the cobblestones, its black essence running between them like spilt ink and fading as it dispersed until no trace was left.

Soon as this finished we unlocked the door and hurried out.  Looking to the north-east I could see the floating island already, fortunately slightly behind my estimated schedule.  Meanwhile, Vernon was already off and running toward Ettor’s to retrieve the capy.  The rest of us set to work doing last-minute checks to make sure everything was in place and that we hadn’t forgotten anything.

Several minutes later – long enough that I was nervously bouncing my leg and watching the island’s progress – Vernon showed back up.  Without a large pack animal.

Someone had untied the animal and opened its stable during the night and now no one could find it.  Ettor was blaming his brother and had invoked some custom or another demanding that Vernon once again act as mediator between them that he couldn’t say no to.

So, we were down one person for joining the expedition and one animal for pulling the cart.  No one wanted to call it off after this much prep so we made the snap decision to try pulling the cart ourselves.  Vernon volunteered to help, saying that even if he couldn’t be leaving the Village for an extended period of time right now, he could at least try to help the rest of us make it.

It was slow going at first.  Slow enough that we definitely wouldn’t have made it in time.  Then as we were discussing whether we should unload some of it, Maiko, who had been hanging back for fear of drawing attention to herself or her hood falling off, finally joined in.  I knew she was strong, but this… I’m pretty sure she was doing more work than the rest of us put together.  Enough work that Cass and I got out of the way and started unloading some of the excess supplies (now that Vernon wouldn’t be joining us) while the cart was in motion.  We ended up just dropping it on the street as we went.  Vernon can deal with it later.

By the time we reached Siren Overlook the floating island was already in place and Maiko looked near to collapse.  We let her have the honor of being first to step foot on the floating island (with Cass close behind as second) and encouraged her to rest there while the rest of us unloaded the cart.  She tried to protest and we hastily cut a middle ground of handing her things across the small gap while she moved them out of the way to make room for more as we made the trips up and down the stars at the end of the Overlook to and from the cart.  The next few minutes were a frenzied blur, ending with Lin calling out that the island was moving again, Cass and I sprinting to join, and Vernon tossing a sack across the rapidly widening gap.  We didn’t get everything, but we got everything important and we should still have enough to last us.  Assuming Cass and I didn’t overdo it with dropping things in the street to lighten the load.

And so the four of us sat under that stone arch at the edge of the isle, or else leaned on its pillars, catching our collective as we watched the land shrink away behind us.  Once we could no longer easily make out Vernon standing on the edge waving to us we gathered up what we could easily carry and started off down the cracked stone path into the trees.

Thinking back on it, we sort of left Vernon to deal with getting the cart back to the Village on his own…  Eh, he’s probably fine.  If there’s anyone that can sweet talk someone into helping him get it back, it’s him.  And another silver lining to a less than ideal situation today: While we were waiting for the mist to clear this morning I brought out the box of bronze bracelets Cass and I had found under the cathedral and gave one each to Maiko and Vernon, explaining the anomalous properties we’d figured out about them.  I’d never gotten around to giving one to Pat like I’d meant to, so at least Vernon being back in the Village will mean someone there will know if something bad happens to one of us and might be able to… do something.  Maybe send a rescue party on a boat if one of us falls into the sea or wanders onto another island and gets left behind.  Maiko was understandably less keen about others being able to find her through the bracelet and slipped hers into that pouch she’d shown up with yesterday instead of putting it on.

But back to our initial foray onto the island.

Following the winding path through the trees – winding enough that I suspect it was made so more for aesthetics than geographic necessity – the others made the same observations I had previously about the trees here being slightly different from the ones that make up most of the main island’s jungles.  In a number of spots, those trees had grown right through the paving stones, making the path even harder to follow, often rendering it less like a path and more like a line of slightly less dense undergrowth.  The birdsong had unfamiliar voices added to its chorus as well, which was uncanny after months of getting used to the background noise.  Probably even odder for the others.

At one point Cass suggested just cutting in a straight line since the path seemed to follow a general direction, but that was shot down.  We had all day in front of us, and better to take our time than get lost or push through a thick bush and suddenly find ourselves stepping off the edge.  In a similar vein, when Lin pulled a machete from her pack (her own or from the donated supplies I’m not sure) Maiko spoke up saying that we don’t know if any nature sprite or similar spirits might have taken up residence here and that could take offense if we start cutting things down.  Thinking about the sort of damage my own haunter could do if it were angry rather than just mischievous, I was quick to second that opinion.

And so, while weeks ago I’d estimated several minutes to cross the island on foot at a brisk pace, with our pace being anything but brisk or direct it was more like half an hour or so of trekking uphill through bush until we the trees broke and we found ourselves in front of the old mansion.

Windows were broken, plants sprouted between the boards of the veranda, flowering vines crisscrossed the walls, and a tree was growing through one of the holes in the sagging, three-story high roof.  But it was standing with all outer walls and front door intact, which was more than I expected.  If this place had been meant to house a number of guests at any given time like Pat’s story had mentioned, it was certainly large enough.

Our collective awed gaze at the structure looming above us was soon drawn downward by the clucking noises.  It seems that among the things left behind by Priscilla and her husband was a chicken coop (or birds close enough that I’m going to call them that) and its residents had been fruitful and multiplied in the years since, for their feathered descendants were strutting all about the yard around the mansion, occasionally stopping to peck at the ground.  Perhaps we have them to thank for this area being less overgrown?

These birds were surprisingly unperturbed by us as we approached the house, only moving out of our way when it seemed we were practically about to step on them.  A sign that there aren’t any predators here?

Maiko hung back, wary of setting foot on the steps while the rest of us tried the door.  The door was technically unlocked, but was stuck in place from a combination of plant growth and warped frame.  As we worked to push it open Cass started to lose patience and Lin had to grab her by the backpack to stop the child from climbing through a broken window.  The last thing we needed was cuts from glass shards.

Eventually the combined weight of the three of us was able to brute force the front door open.  Inside, the ground floor was littered with generations of leaves, shed feathers, and chicken droppings.  A couple of chickens scattered at the sudden loud noise, one fleeing out the window Cass had been wanting to climb through, vindicating her assertions of that route’s viability.

I made more detailed notes of our initial findings as we went in my other notebook, so I’ll spare the details and summarize here.

• First floor pretty much belonged to the chickens.  Every flat surface was scratched up and/or spattered in waste.  Any cushions or fabrics torn apart for nest materials.  The cleanest areas were near broken windows and around the tree that had grown through the building where presumably rain could occasionally wash things away.
• First floor included a large den/living room, kitchen, dining room, and a couple of bedrooms.
• Scattered about where what looked to be music stands and painting easels.  A few remains of canvases stretched over frames as well, but none in condition to make out what was once on them.
• The contents of some of the drawers and cabinets seemed to be in better shape than the rest of the house.  Just looked at a couple though.  Haven’t done a thorough search of any of the rooms yet.
• Stairs going up to the second floor were creaky.  I’m still not convinced they’re stable enough that one of us might not put a foot through them eventually.
• Second floor is in better shape than the first.  Less mess from the chickens.  Signs of water damage on the ceilings.
• Doors were all closed on the second floor.  Surprisingly, most of them were locked, including the one with the tree going through it.  The couple we could get into were bedrooms.  No chicken droppings there.  Might be passable for sleeping in, but I worry about mold.  I’d definitely just be spreading a bedroll on the floor instead of getting into the bed that’s there.
• Couldn’t find entrance to the attic.  Maybe in one of the locked rooms?  But if the second floor ceiling water spots and holes in the roof are anything to go by, it’s probably not in good condition.
• Outside we found the remains of the aforementioned chicken coop.  Also traces of what Cass suspected was once a vegetable garden, albeit with said vegetables long since pecked to death.

After that initial exploration of the house and some debate, we decided to set up camp outside for the time being rather than dealing with chicken poop and floors of questionable durability.  With that settled, we split into two groups, one to start setting up the tents and make sure the chickens didn’t get into the food (not sure if they actually can or not, but I wasn’t keen on finding out) and the other to go back to the arch and get the rest of our stuff.  More discussion about how to split up.  Originally I proposed that Cass and I stay and Lin and Maiko get the stuff.  Lin argued that Maiko still shouldn’t be doing more than she has to right now after doing most of the work with the cart pulling this morning.  Maiko interjected that she was fine, but Lin slipped back into her professional façade and wouldn’t hear of it.  When Cass asked why she wasn’t being considered for carrying duty I pointed out that the water barrel was about as big as she was.

Part of me suspects that some of that was Lin being nervous about being alone with Maiko.

Back down at the arch we could see that we were pretty far from the main island at this point with just the water below us.  Too bad we couldn’t see where we were going from there.  We looked to be pretty close to the exact “back” of the floating island.

We started with the aforementioned water barrel since we knew it was going to be the heaviest/hardest to manage.  Took both of us to lift.  Over an hour later of picking it up and putting it back down while pushing through bush I was regretting not leaving it to Maiko.

Once we finally got back the first tent was up and Cass and Maiko were halfway through pitching the second.  Apparently between the four of us Lin’s the only one who knew how to do that beforehand so it took them some experimenting.

Also Maiko had gone back to her usual clothes.  Lin’s reaction was more measured this time, but I’m still glad we’d already put down the barrel when Maiko came out from behind the tent.  Cass seemed utterly indifferent to it.  I had some gut reaction regarding appropriate modesty around children, but then again, with this equatorial climate, you see people wearing not significantly more around the Village on a daily basis, and it’s not like she’s being lewd about it.

With how much that barrel carrying took out of us, we started taking turns getting the rest of the supplies, mixing up the pairs.  I’m pretty sure that Lin and Maiko didn’t say five words to each other during their time alone.

By the time we got everything gathered back up we were all exhausted once again.  Since then we’ve just been lounging around in the grass, making small talk, watching the clouds pass by, and watching Lin and Cass (mostly Lin) play with the chickens while I write this far too long entry.  Sun will be going down before too long, so we’ll probably break out some food and then retire to the tents.  Not a lot to do after dark here that I’m aware of.