Mizuki put out the fire with a pitcher of water from the kitchen, then put away what was left of the food and wine, protesting to Hannah that she didn’t need help. They took their turns in the bathroom, brushing teeth and getting ready for bed, then retired to their rooms.
Verity was still feeling warm from the wine, and like she wanted some
affection. If their beds had been larger, she might have suggested that
she and Isra share one, like they’d done in Liberfell, but the beds were
small enough that if they were in the same one together, they’d need to
be practically on top of each other. Verity wouldn’t have minded that in
the slightest, not when she was feeling the effects of the wine, but she
hadn’t had
Still, she stayed up, lamenting the separate beds and having private fantasies, until Isra had gone to sleep.
It had been easy to forget the Fig and Gristle when she was with the others. The dungeons… Well, she could take or leave them, but it gave the party a focus, a purpose, around which they could organize. It was nice. For the night being the end of an era, her usual haunt as a bard no longer her own, she was feeling good and at peace.
Lying to people was easy for Lola. What was difficult was keeping track of the lies. Sometimes, she just didn’t bother. You could get your way out of lies with more lies often enough, and getting caught in lies didn’t do all that much damage, because people were willing to forgive and forget. Plus, she had the undone days to fall back on, one way or another. If someone said, ‘No, that never happened’, she could simply say that it had happened in an undone day, and she’d simply been confused, or maybe they were confused. And if there was a serious blowup, one that couldn’t be papered over with charm and misdirection, she could simply redo the day, be proactive about it, confess to her crimes, and beg for forgiveness, which always won points for some reason.
There were a few rules that Lola had established for herself, at least where extracurriculars were concerned, and while she had never been a big believer in rules, she at least thought twice before breaking the ones she’d set for herself.
The first rule was to avoid other chrononauts, at least if they had undone days left, but of course Alfric was a chrononaut, and she had her sights set on him.
The second rule was that it was always better to save bad behavior until the end of the day, when it was less likely that the complicated rules governing chrononauts could bite her in the butt. In theory, a chrononaut could do whatever they wanted and then reverse it, but in practice, other chrononauts always had higher priority, and they could reverse a day and remember the bad thing that had been done. Lola had been caught out once or twice and gotten slaps on the wrist that had stung enough to make a rule about it.
The third rule was, of course, that bad behavior should always be saved for undone days, but that rule was the one that got broken the most often.
Lola walked through the dungeon, mildly annoyed about the whole thing. The plan had seemed like a good one when she’d cooked it up, but actually going through with it seemed like it might be more trouble than it was worth.
Going into a dungeon alone wasn’t technically breaking any rules, except those of ‘common sense’. The Adventurers’ League gave out keys like they were candy, and Lola had one of her own, but even if they caught her, they wouldn’t take the key away from her, only deliver a firm reprimand, if that. It was a bit shocking how much you could do and escape with a mere warning.
The big reason not to go into a dungeon alone was that the monsters got worse, but that only meant death, and Lola didn’t fear death whatsoever—no self-respecting chrononaut did.
She turned a corner of the red-brick corridor and came face-to-face with a monster twice her size. It had fur the exact shade of the bricks, had long fangs the length of her forearm flanked by thick molars, and let out a wheeze rather than a roar. It tried to snap at her, but she had her protections up. The alienist bindings, shimmering green layers over her skin pushing back against the fangs, would protect from all but the worst attacks, and she had all eight tendrils out, two of them holding her most powerful weapons.
