“Are people usually interested in that kind of thing?” asked Mizuki. “I suppose people ask me about Kiromo, not that I have all that much to tell.” She shrugged. “I think he was either trying to be polite and include you, or he was just more interested in the mystery. If you’re quiet, people will want to know what it is you’re hiding. In your case, it’s that you’re a woods witch, plus probably some other things.”
“Other things?” asked Isra.
“Well, I’ve got no idea why your parents would come all this way from Tarbin just to settle outside of Pucklechurch and not really talk to anyone,” said Mizuki. “For my grandfather, he wanted to establish a community away from the Kiromon emperor, and Pucklechurch had some kind of spiritual significance. So I figure there’s probably some kind of story about your parents, even if you might not know it.”
“Maybe,” said Isra.
“Oh,” said Mizuki. “There’s a hotel. We should get rooms before we go wandering off to the bastlekeeper.”
This, too, took some time, but there was nothing in the party chat from Alfric and the others, and Mizuki imagined that they were still lugging that stupid wardrobe up a hill. She didn’t envy them, especially Verity, who seemed like she would rather have been done with songs for a bit. Mizuki settled on a large suite for the five of them, and though there were only four beds, one of them was a large bed for two, which seemed acceptable. The price made her eyes pop a bit, but divided five ways it wasn’t actually that bad, so long as they only stayed a day.
“Okay,” said Mizuki as they stepped out of the hotel, having dropped off most of their things in their room. “To the bastlekeeper.”
“Do you need to talk to everyone so much?” asked Isra.
“Huh?” asked Mizuki. “The clerk? I was only being polite.”
“He didn’t need an explanation of why we were in Liberfell,” said Isra.
“So what should I have said then?” asked Mizuki. “That I needed a room for five people?”
“Yes,” said Isra.
“But don’t you see how that’s rude?” asked Mizuki.
Isra frowned. “Do you speak this much with everyone?”
“I don’t know. I like being friendly and polite,” said Mizuki. “It’s just chatter.”
“I would like to be the one to speak with the bastlekeeper,” said Isra.
“Sure, fine,” said Mizuki. “Just… don’t be rude. Not that I think you would be.”
The directions took them across the city, to the outskirts. Liberfell was on a bit of a hill, and at certain spots, Mizuki wished they could stop and take in a nice view of the valley, but Isra seemed to be the wrong walking partner for that. The river that ran through the valley was thick and slow, and most of the streams in the Pucklechurch hex fed into it. She’d heard that if you had a good enough raft and were willing to put in the work of navigation, then after a big rain you could go all the way from Pucklechurch to Liberfell, floating along. Mizuki had nearly done that with some friends, but there had been a bit of drama between them after she’d kissed one of the brothers, and the rafting plans had fallen through.
Mizuki kept these thoughts to herself, worried that she would annoy Isra. She wondered whether Isra had ever kissed someone but kept that question to herself because it seemed too intimate a thing to ask someone who was basically a stranger, and more of a stranger than anyone else in the party. It was the kind of thing you talked about with a friend, not a workmate.
Eventually, if they kept doing dungeons, they might come to understand each other.
The bastlekeeper had a large building, but only the front of it was open
to the public. There were numerous animals in cages or glass tanks, with
handwritten signs giving descriptions of what was inside. Some of them
weren’t
“We have three eggs,” said Isra, opening up Mizuki’s bag and showing them to the bastlekeeper. “We’d like to incubate and raise them ourselves.”
“Ay?” asked the old man, bringing some glasses up from around his neck so he could take a closer look. “How long out of the dungeon, or are these bred?”
“No more than two bells since they were taken,” said Isra.
“Ay, well,” said the old man, nodding. “You’re dungeoneers then?” He had a bit of Hannah’s accent, though different in the particulars.
“We are,” said Isra, nodding. “They’ll require heat and good airflow. They’re still living.”
