Time rolls by as Jumble twists and spins tales that sound like they could’ve come from any epic fantasy short story collection back on Earth. The first is one of a princess and a painted dane large enough to swallow an entire castle, her struggles, and eventual triumph over the monsters the painted dane swallows. It ends with the two of them forming a team and eating a low-orbit moon. She tells it with expert oration and body language that really sells it, no matter how far into absurdity the last few minutes stray.

  Once she finishes, she bows to all the plastic paindne. A few of them clap and spray noise from deep in their throats. She winces at the noise and turns away with a little bit of a blush. Pearl reluctantly claps along with them, a grudgingly amused expression sitting on her face about as well as spoiled milk on fresh fruit. Euro mutters something about having heard it one too many times, but their body language says they were listening intently all the way through.

  Honestly… so was I. Her words, her motions, her passion; it all comes through so vibrantly that I can almost imagine she was there to witness it herself. But I guess that’s the hallmark of a great orator. So much so that when she starts into story number two, I just relax and listen as the background din of plastic paindne noises falls away to her skilled voice.

  Story two tells the tale of a jam maker that is given the last bushel of godberries by a scheming advisory and is told to create a spread so delicious that it will fulfill the queen’s final decree; whoever brings me the most delicious thing I have ever eaten will inherit my crown. The maker toils day in and day out, struggling to get the flavours of the berries to work with mortal ingredients, until finally he creates the most wondrous jam of all time.

  But when he presents it to the advisor, he is killed to keep the genesis of the jam a secret. The advisor, overcome with dark joy and greed, brings the jam to the queen, who takes one bite and freezes up. In a flurry of magic and berry juice, the advisor screams, and moments later the man is gone. In his place stand the jam maker, coated in fruity stickiness, and a glowing projection of a crown inches from his forehead. The queen is gone. The palace is gone. Everything is gone.

  The jam maker walks outside, fear and desperation pushing his feet, only to find that the entire queendom is gone. And in its place are endless acres of godberries, all glistening in the morning dew like blood soaked diamonds.

  I shudder as Jumble trails off, her arms drooping to her sides as her chin presses against her chest. Tears flow readily down her cheeks as if she was the one witnessing the acres of berries and the disappearance of her home. Then she wipes her cheeks, smiles wide, and bows theatrically.

  This time, I can’t help but clap.

  “...they never met again, as their deaths brought no continuation; only darkness.” Jumble holds up both hands as if cradling a thick candle, then blows out the imaginary flame. “Now all warriors of Frislin wear the symbol of the twinned wick; the memories of those who first wore it lost to time, but the meaning behind it stretching far beyond their deaths.”

  Pearl’s hands and her fingers pale from how hard she’s clutching them. Jumble’s last story, a tragedy about two enemy generals who realize too late that both of their leaders are power hungry tyrants, hit a little too close to home for her. It’s both a relief and a pity that we’re so… close to our objective. Wait, how long have we been walking? Shit, how many stories did Jumble manage to tell?

  I clear my throat as Jumble looks at me expectantly. “We’re here.”

  “Did you like it?” She asks eagerly. “The twisting of the wick is one of my favorites. I’d like to think I’m… pretty good at it.”

  She shines her fingertips on her chest with pride as she speaks, glancing down at them for a moment before looking smugly up at me again. I want to call her out, but honestly… she’s so damn good at storytelling that I can’t bring myself to say anything negative.

  “You’re amazing at this; I was enraptured from… story two, honestly.” I chuckle and shake my head. “I’d say I could listen to you ramble on for hours, but since I just did, it kind of feels redundant to say. Your voice, your motions, your emotions… damn, girl. Just damn.”

  Jumble grins wide and puffs out her chest. “It’s my craft; I better be good at it. But… u-um… thanks. For the kind words, and for listening. J-just hypothetically, if I were to ask you if–”

  “Nope.” Euro grabs Jumble’s shoulders and pushes her away. “Nope, nope, nope. Get out of story mode and back into serious mode. We have a job to do, and you can drool all over yourself when we’re back safe in the lighthouse. If Dani didn’t already screw that up for us.”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Their last words are barely a whisper, but it speaks to a level of comfort with me that I… don’t remember them having. Maybe walking in silence with me as Jumble spins wondrous tales somehow softened their opinion of me. Or hardened their opinion of Dani, maybe. Either way, that’s a major positive for us. I gesture broadly at a random stretch of wall with a raised eyebrow, to which Pearl nods in confirmation.

  “Right through this wall is the subquest. I have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen once we open it up, so be ready for the absolute worst.” I summon a few coins between my hands for emphasis, ignoring the glances from the plastic paindne at the motion. “What’s the strongest thing you’ve seen here that you can fight off alone?”

  Euro frowns. “Why?”

  “So I know how much I have to protect you.” I state flatly as my eyes sweep across both of them. “Both of you. No matter what I think about your party, I’m not going to let you die on my watch.”

  “Promise us.” Euro demands.

  I grin in amusement. “You’re not exactly in the demand-making seat right now. So no, no promises. You’ll just have to believe I’m not the kind of person who’d waste a few hours walking and listening to stories only to turn around and stab you in the back.”

  “That’s…” Euro grimaces and turns half their face away. “That’s not what I meant. I meant… promise us you’re strong enough to protect us.”

  “Oh. Sure; as long as the horizonguard doesn’t show up, I’m strong enough to protect you. Now, can we?” I place my hand on the wall and spread my fingers. “If this thing ends up taking a long time, I want to get started as soon as possible.”

  Doubt lines Euro’s face in an extremely obvious fashion. They glance over at Jumble, assumedly for guidance, but the bard has a very similar expression. It hurts a little, but if they’re used to Dani being the strong one, then I guess my simple display of coins doesn’t look like much. Especially not compared to a localized sunbeam of death. Neither of them speak up, though, so I guess that’s confirmation enough. I twist my fingers in an unnecessary gesture and open up a circular door in an unassuming stretch of wall, over which hangs a sign like any of the others.

  Maybe there’s a hint to finding the subquest in the writing on it. Or maybe the construct just gave us a little bonus ahead of schedule. A little too late to worry about that now, though, so I just step through into the seemingly empty apartment-like space. Jumble follows immediately, but Euro hesitates for a second before Jumble reaches back, grabs Euro’s hand with a smile, and eases her comrade through the threshold.

  “I don’t like this.” Euro grumbles as they look around the empty space. “It’s too… familiar.”

  I nod in agreement. “The layout’s something you could find in any city. But the subquest is apparently right here, so get to looking.”

  Euro frowns at me for a moment before Jumble pulls her away to explore the apartment. There’s real confusion in their expression, but I don’t know what part of my sentence could be confusing. I raise an eyebrow to nothing and look up at Pearl’s shell; maybe she noticed something I didn’t.

  Pearl shrugs. “She’s acting weird. Keep an eye on her just in case she starts doing stupid things.”

  “Euro?” I whisper as I walk away from the pair to start my own leg of the search.

  “No; Jumble. Well, the both of them, sure, but mostly Jumble. You heard Euro say how she needs to ‘switch modes’; that’s not the kind of thing a normal person has to do.” Pearl glances over her shoulder in the direction Jumble and Euro went. “Just be careful that she’s not being influenced by the system. Even if she’s not one of the purebreds, she could have a skill with weird side effects.”

  Skill side effects. I’ve experienced a pretty horrible one of those with twist fate, myself, so I have no choice but to let Pearl’s words burrow into my skull and let doubt take place. The chance that she’d been using a powerful skill to tell those stories–one so strong that I didn’t even feel the magic–is something I can’t overlook. Even though I hadn’t even considered it until Pearl said it.

  I lean close to the wall and study something that could be a chip, notch, or an eyelash half stuck in my vision. A quick blink proves the third option true.

  “What’s the chance Jumble’s been sandbagging her real power?” I whisper as quietly as humanly possible. “Were those staticky words earlier just a distraction?”

  “I don’t know; I have no evidence for either way.” Pearl whispers back even though she doesn’t have to. “Just be really careful. If her powers can work close-ish to how a psychic’s do, we can’t let our guards down for even a second. I’ll… extend some of me out of my shell and tug your ear really hard if you start acting strange.”

  A tendril extends from her shell, latches onto the top of my ear, and gives it a soft tug.

  “Just like that, but way harder.” Pearl continues. “Okay?”

  I nod ever so slightly. “Got it. Can you sense how we’re supposed to start this thing?”

  “Mmm… yep, it’s in the room where Jumble and Euro are. There’s an… um… uh-oh.”

  “Uh-oh?” I turn around as Pearl stares blankly off into the distance. “What’s happening over–”

  Plasticy, grey magic swells to fill every nook and cranny of the room. I snap my mouth shut and shove through the miasma until I round the corner. Euro stands barely out of the doorway with their arms pulled close, hands at head height with palms open as if to say ‘I didn’t do it. And just past her is Jumble. Halfway bent over, eyes wide, and both hands pressed to a completely unremarkable stretch of wall.

  That she just used to trigger the subquest.