“Should we wake them up?”

  “Eeeh. Let them be. We can catch them up ter.”

  Homer and Maia had woken up to Aymanah being gone, but they had deduced that they probably went for a morning flight. They might’ve been a stranger to the city, but Aymanah had a bird’s eye perspective and a free wheeling attitude- even if they got lost, they’d eventually either find their way back to the tavern or to wherever Hermes’s office was.

  They’d stuck close to each other for the walk: it hadn’t been such a problem on the road where Maia could hide in the wagon, and not during their walking portions of the trip since they barely saw people- and even at the few rest stops they took, she simply pulled her hood up-

  but here, in the capital, Homer had instructed her to try and hide her pallid skintone and sunken eyes. “It’s a holy day, little miss. Lots of religious zealots about. They might think you a necromancer and give you undue attention. And if they find out you’re Death’s beloved? You’re not going to be finding any peace…”

  “Wouldn’t that potentially help us get attendance to the event, though?” Maia nervously tugged at her sleeves as they disappeared into the sea of people.

  “Aye, maybe. Or you get nowhere and we’re besieged at the tavern and miss the ceremony entirely. And those close to Death are not always respected. They might find you dangerous. You *can* kill just by thought and touch…”

  “Point taken,” Maia sighs.

  It wasn’t too hard to hide. She pulled her hood up as instructed and kept close to Homer and no-one paid them any mind. The citizens of the capital all had their own routines after all: who would stop to stare at two wanderers on the street? Homer being a giant of a man never stuck out either. She did wish they had wings like Aymanah, though, just to avoid the congestion.

  And that’s how they ended up here. The pair left Aymanah to doze outside, apologizing profoundly to the crier and instructing him to just keep going with his business. The inside of the building was cozy, but not especially impressive. The trade office of Hermes & Company Bartering was two floors, the first floor acting as the actual trade office and the second as living quarters for some of the workers.

  “What can I help you fine people with? Are you looking to invest in one of the caravans? Our owner is on a trip himself, but he should be back by the time the Rebirth begins, if you want to do business with him yourself. Otherwise I, Jason, will be taking your order! Or maybe you’re here to receive a shipment? Let’s see here…”

  This Jason was a young man, probably only some years older than Maia, but he was already balding and had a bit of a hunch. She couldn’t determine if the poor posture was self-inflicted or an issue he was born with, and it’d be rude to ask. Despite this, the way he flipped through the gigantic book was nimble and admirably efficient, multiple pages at once, yet he clearly scanned each page trying to find-

  what, actually? They hadn’t given their names yet. Maybe he was looking for freshly arrived shipments?

  “None of that, young man. We’re here because Hermes told the little dy here that she could always come by his trade office if she needed help.”

  And with a sp to the back, Maia is pushed forward with a little ‘ah.’ But she appreciates that; were it not for Homer she would’ve stood there quietly for a good while before finally mumbling something out. Homer pushing her to the front with a little help has her find her courage, clearing her throat and pulling her hood down. It was clear Jason was taken back a little by her countenance.

  “I… I started my travels from the great forest. I’m a humble Forrester, and I met Hermes when I was leaving my home… He told me that were I to reach the capital, I could come here for help. I wish to attend the ceremony so that I can meet Death. Do you have any clue as to how I can accomplish this? We’re on a tight schedule, I know, but please…”

  It’s a shame Hermes hadn’t arrived before them, but he *was* alone and on foot when she saw him. Maybe he’s on the pilgrim’s road right now.

  “Hm, I see…”Jason sps the rge book closed and leans on it with both elbows now, expression thoughtful.“The boss doesn’t usually dole out promises of favors like that, and I’ve an inkling that you’re not making that up… You’re a traveler, after all. Why take the gamble on a medium sized office like ours and just *bet* on faking a favor? Something about your eyes just seems honest…”

  She hadn’t even considered that this could sound like the biggest scam attempt of all time, and the clear startle on her face just made Jason ugh.

  “Mmm, I’ll hear you out. Although a medium sized office like ours doesn’t have much clout. Would be different if the chief was here, since he’s got connections. I’m just an apprentice taking care of things while he’s traveling. But I might have some ideas… I take it you two have already considered the colosseum?”

  Maia clears her throat.“Aah, yes, we did, but… The tournament has already started, so we’d be coming in with a major point deficit, and it’d be dangerous. Both of us need to see the ceremony alive, no matter what.”

  Homer seems pleased that he didn’t have to intervene with an expnation, arms folded as he just stands there. The door creaks open and Jason takes a peek to see if there’s an actual customer to tend to, but it just turns out to be Aymanah slowly hobbling in with a yawn. Homer merely shakes his head- one of us, he implies- and Jason returns to tending to Maia.

  “That’d have been the easiest way. None of you have any rich patrons to turn to, I assume, since you had to come here…” He’s rubbing the edge of the book’s cover between his thumb and index finger, expression thoughtful. “And you’re not rich enough to buy attendance, and you don’t have the credit to get a loan…”

  And even if they got a loan, Maia would not want to spend her time repaying it. And Homer wouldn’t be here to repay it in the first pce, and-

  did Aymanah know about money? Like, they’d seen Homer handle the money Euclid gave them, but did they understand the concept? The vilge seemed to be a bartering economy, and- gah! Sidetracked! She’s just nodding along with Jason’s observations. It feels a little awkward to have their pns so thoroughly dismantled, but…

  “What you could do is try and get one of those patrons. It’s, what, a week and a half? Something like that, I don’t attend these ceremonies…”

  Jason nips away at the edge of the cover again.

  And then he flips it open again and really begins to speedread. Homer sighs and leans on the counter. “I appreciate the help, but what’re you getting at now?”

  “I’m checking if any of our clients could work as a sponsor. We’re a medium sized office, but the chief’s own retions and family do let us snag clients above our pay grade sometimes, when they want a more lowkey method of moving their goods and money around.”

  A few more minutes of flipping through pages, and then he comes to a stop. He rereads the order a couple of times and then turns to the shelves. There’s about fifteen rows of lockers with wooden lids, and he’s checking the numbers.

  “These are for our small orders. Potions, reagents, sometimes small packages, or single minerals if we deliver to a jewelry shop… Aha. Here we go. Number forty eight.”

  The lid has a sliding lock that gets spped aside and opened, turning around to the trio to present a small package, wrapped with care. It’s pced on the counter, with Jason leaning over and taking a look around to make sure no-one was listening… which was peculiar, since they were the only people here in the store. Maia also leans in, feeling oddly conspiratorial over this.

  “This is a package for Dame Teodora. She’s one of our oldest customers… And she’s something of a phinthropist. I don’t know the full story, since it really was before my time and I don’t try and look into customers, but she’s the st remaining member of her house, and she’s spending most of her fortune to try and help others before she passes, and it all goes to the state.”

  Maia nods and gently takes the package. It feels quite light. She gives it a shake, and there’s something solid rattling around in there… Further examination makes her feel like she’s riffling through someone else’s stuff, so she just hands it over to Homer, who proceeds to stash it away for ter.

  “Usually she’d come to pick up the delivery, but we haven’t reported it yet. Came in early and I hadn’t had the time to page for a messenger. You ought to go and deliver it to her instead. It’ll give you an in with her, and she’s been known to support pilgrims before. Maybe you two can talk it out. It’s the best we can do for you on such a short notice, and it saves me the hassle of paying for a messenger or deliveryman.”

  This felt like they were just being foisted with an errand, granted, but it’s the best they’ve got… And the little apologetic tinge to Jason’s smile makes her think he’s being genuine.

  “I’ll give you written instructions on how to reach her manse over at the hills and you go from there. We’ll know if you did the delivery once she sends us the payment. Don’t go stealing the package now, hahaha…”

  Jason is clearly joking, but Maia still vehemently shakes her head while Homer gently ruffles her hair a little. Guess she’s still got a bit of innocence to work out.

  The instructions are written, they confirm everything one more time and the trio exits the store and heads out onto the streets, now even busier with the passage of time. Maia has pulled her hood back up and Aymanah has perched onto Homer’s shoulder. Their presence seems to actually help a little, since people give them a wider berth now- after all, a giant man with an odd shoulder pet is a little intimidating.

  “I think that went well…!”

  Maia’s chirp is met with nods from both.

  “We’ve got a lead. Assuming this dame is as charitable as she’s cimed to be, we might have our in without any further work… We’ll see. Although no good thing comes for free. We ought to go in with low expectations.”

  Homer squints and brings the small paper slip with the instructions closer to his face. He might do better with a set of reading spectacles, she thinks, but does not tease him over the matter. Aymanah is looking around boredly, occasionally spping Homer’s arm with their wing to make him dodge an incoming pedestrian.

  Eventually the busy trade square streets turn into alleys, and the alleys turn into main street, and the main street leads them over towards the hilly section where the many manses of the nobility lie. Maia feels a little tinge of nervousness at the sight- something this glorious never ought to have graced the eyes of a hermit living in a hovel, she thinks- but she swallows that feeling and keeps going.

  Onwards and upwards.