Soul Bound

1        Soul Bound
1.3      Making a Splash
1.3.3    An Unrequited Love
1.3.3.32 Under the hat

After a few minutes they climbed up a ladder and headed east along a much drier passage with walls made from a pale sandstone. What struck Kafana as weird, was that the passage's cross-section was hexagonal. She'd never heard of a sewer design like this. Who'd take the trouble?

Harlequin obviously recognised it though, because he announced: "Ladies and gentlemen, we are now passing under dear old Tickton. Please mind the trap."

He drew a short object from a bandolier beneath his jacket and, with a mocking flourish, he used it like a swagger stick to point out a tiny glass vial in the crack between two blocks that had been slightly tilted so that stepping on either would shatter it, splashing the careless person with the vial's contents.

Traps? Luckily they had..., actually where was Alderney? She didn't like small underground spaces - was she okay here? Kafana looked around and spotted her BFF strutting alongside Bungo, taking two steps for each one of his and talking two words for each one of his; they were still teasing each other but now it was being done with obvious affection and both of them seemed happy. Kafana smiled. Maybe Alderney only disliked caves where she wasn't sure that she was the one in control of all of their hidden surprises? That might make sense, given how much the engineer hated problems she felt helpless to affect.

Kafana: {Do you suppose we're safe enough now, for me to log out? I'm late starting my preparations for lunch?}

Alderney: {Aww, I was hoping you get to see Myrmekes Aurum in action. How about I have Tink let Ketah know? I'm sure she and Gorana can handle things.}

Bungo: {Good idea. In fact, thinking about giving people a "head's up", it's a pity we've not got the Adventurers Guild started yet. If we had, we could have posted a quest via The Burrow for a player to carry a message scroll in game to Morelato and Melafon; that way Madero could get straight on with things.} He sighed.

Wellington: {There are several things that need to happen before its formal launch, if we want it to go smoothly. A lot will depend upon how House Sincero do at impressing society during the Masked Ball. But I can post an informal request on The Burrow now, with the prospect of receiving burrow points from onlookers for accepting and receiving the 'quest'. Where's the rendezvous?}

Alderney: {I can get us into Enduring Edifices' warehouse in Spettro without being seen. It isn't too far from the orphanage for Melafon, and Morelato already spends more nights sleeping there than he does in his own home.}

Harlequin continued leading them along the hexagonal tunnel, picking left or right without hesitation each time it forked, and their route steadily rose in altitude as they made progress towards the eastern wall separating the Ghetto from the rest of Torello. The others had continued their conversation in the private chat channel.

They had moved, via several other topics, onto discussing Alderney making custom 'thank you' recordings that the message carriers could wear visibly on their Burrow avatars like Messenger Guild badges and how burrow reputation points should be if converted over to the gratitude economy when Trustworthy Tiaras were launched. Despite it not taking place in open chat, out of habit Kafana had found herself still turning her head to look at each new person as they spoke. Indeed her head now felt like it was spinning so much that she was in danger of stumbling, and she paused to rest, leaning an arm against the wall for balance.

She even felt a little nauseous. Had she picked up an infection? Had a trap poisoned her? She checked her character screen, but it listed no debuffs as currently affecting her. Why was she feeling like this? A moment later Kafana received a private message from the AI she'd created to monitor her inside the game, who must have picked up on her thoughts.

Dinah: {Yo. The tunnel you're standing in is pretty noisy, and I think that is what's affecting you. If you stay long enough for it to affect your performance even when you are focussed, then it will show up as a debuff.}

Performance? She remembered experiencing a similar feeling at an open air concert where the enclosure for waiting performers had been put right next to an enormous bank of loudspeakers - Kafana had gone early in the programme but one of the last singers had nearly fallen off the stage. Hang on, though...

Kafana: {I can't hear any loud noises. Are the stones playing stealth rock music, or something?}

Dinah: {That's because your ears don't work at that high a frequency. According to the instructions the game is sending your tiara, it's trying to emulate the effect upon your vestibular system being exposed to 25 kHz clicks emitted at 100 dB SPL. It's been getting louder for a while now.}

She straightened up, and caught up with Harlequin at the front, who was tapping against the wall with his swagger stick as he walked.

Kafana: "O great and knowledgeable one, I seek your guidance."

She said it with mock humility, but Harlequin immediately adopted an expression of stern-faced serenity, pointing imperiously at her with the sheathed rod-like object.

Harlequin: "Speak, greenest of grasshoppers."

She dropped, without warning, into an accent so common that even Eliza Doolittle would have turned up her nose at it.

Kafana: " 'Ere, wot's all this clicking about? Doin' me head in, it is. Half minded to magicky me up a pair o nice ear muffs I am."

Harlequin's jaw nearly dropped, as he was surprised into thinking out loud: "You can hear it?"

UCL linguistics course for the win!

Harlequin's face paled in panic as he quickly added: "No, no, don't do that; they'll attack us! Or at least, I don't know they wouldn't. I've never heard of someone trying sonic magic down here, in all the years of... but then again only the families that founded Tickton know, and it's always been kept a secret so... and what if we don't hear because all those who tried were eaten..."

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Kafana grinned in delight, and gently interrupted: "Harlequin, dear - you're burbling."

Harlequin jumped nearly a foot in the air, and slapped both of his hands over his mouth to shut himself up. The object he had been holding came out of its sheath and rolled towards Kafana revealing itself to be a folding hand-fan, carved from a dark scented wood and decorated with golden filigree.

Kafana: "Let me guess. There's a secret not your own, that you are honour-bound to keep and that you are already skirting in order to help your apprentice?" He flinched, so she continued "Then please, consider my question to never have been asked. You are not obliged to tell us all your secrets just because we have risked telling you ours. So! I heard nothing; I saw nothing. I will cast no magic, and I entrust myself to your care. Lead on."

System: [Quest available: "Mind Underground" - Carry word from the Alveare to Lady Dieconeura. Difficulty level C. This quest starts a quest chain. Do you wish to accept?]

Harlequin put the fan away, then placed his own white felt pileus cap on Kafana's head so it covered her ears, before holding her hand and leading her onwards. He didn't drag her, but held her hand lightly, adjusting his pace to be no faster than she was comfortable with.

A mile later the tunnel had sloped back down, and they switched into a much wetter passage that allowed them to pass under the wall and out of the Ghetto, thanks to the iron grate blocking the way being so rusted that several of its bars were missing. Her legs were now cold and soaked with slimy water, but her head no longer hurt and she took the trade gratefully. Harlequin still kept hold of her hand, though, and she made no move to reclaim it.

Bulgaria broke the silence, sounding unusually nervous: "We're beyond Pazzi's cordon now?"

Madero replied with confidence in his, as though they'd rehearsed this: "Aye, that we are; thanks no doubt to young Alderney, Harlequin and all their friends. I'll be leaving you all shortly, but Bulgaria here has something to say."

Bulgaria: "Uh, well, I happen to know some reliable scamps. They may be young, but they know the area and for a coin or two, they'll be willing to guide you safely to whichever district you're heading to. I'll introduce you as soon as we get out of this hole, hey?"

Kafana realised she hadn't checked the map in a while. Bringing it up she noticed the seven monk-led groups had all reached their destinations while the 'Ghost' icons representing the patrols chasing them were all confused and heading in the wrong direction except one, near the northern part of the wall closest to Ruffiana's Necropolis, whose corpse was having something done to it by a zombie-like beetle labelled "Nicrophorus Luciferase".

She sent a private message to Alderney: {Ugh, just looked at your map. Do I even want to ask what that beetle is doing? Good job keeping everyone safe, though.}

Alderney: {Thanks. And given you're not a horror-fan, no, probably not. Can you spare me a couple of minutes after we drop Madero off, before you log out? No horror, I promise.}

Kafana: {Sure Alds, no problem.}

Quicker than she'd expected, they'd left Madero explaining their surprise appointments to the two elders already waiting for him at the warehouse. The rest of the Wombles had stayed below with the rear-guard of Levellers spreading the Charter beyond the Ghetto, heading north towards a culvert near the Vecci camp where guides from the BDI would be waiting for them, but Alderney had led Kafana deeper into Spettro, towards an abandoned clock tower, and Harlequin had joined them.

She finally let go of his hand, to return his hat to him, as they climbed its spiral stone staircase. At the top was just a flat platform, the bell and clockwork having long since been removed, but from it she could see all of Basso spread out below her, including Pazzi's castle-like palazzo. The stone walls looked grim in the dark even though there were flags on top of them decorated with green bears, idly flapping in the chill night breeze. But in the courtyards inside there were fires burning merrily and guards with their helmets removed were quaffing ale from barrels and laughing at the jokes and stories of their fellows. They looked normal - no more evil than any other group of watchmen she'd met in Torello.

Kafana: "They don't look like bad people."

Harlequin: "They're not. You don't have to be bad, to end up doing bad things. That's why we instructed the monks to only trigger the more lethal traps if they were needed to prevent something worse happening, such as the northern patrol nearly catching up with the slow moving retirees heading to the Teeter."

Alderney: "I may gamify a situation to make the broadcast attract audience numbers, but I know it isn't one - not for the Covadan affected by our actions."

Kafana: "Is that what you wanted to tell me? I never doubted you for a minute, Alds."

Harlequin: "No. I am the one who feels a need to speak. This morning I promised you truth for truth and revelation for revelation, never imagining how much you would trust me with. You placed your life in my hands, and the lives and secrets of every Leveller you were honour-bound to protect, without even a thought to extracting a promise or assurance from me first. Alderney tells me that you didn't even secretly check on me with your holy relics or bardic skills."

Kafana: "Was I mistaken about you?"

Harlequin: "I very much hope not, for I have seen beneath your mask, seen who you are when you think none are watching you and I. Am. In. Awe."

She blushed, then looked at Alderney who glanced away guiltily. Heh, it looked like someone with access to her raw feed had been telling tales out of school. But that could wait. She returned to looking at the hopeful swain who had invited her to be his dance partner at the most prestigious ball of the Torellan social year. So short some would consider him ugly, yet usually so full of certainty, of wit and love of live, that it could scarcely be contained by his frame. A Cyrano de Bergerac decked in diamond patterned dance attire.

Kafana: "Well, you certainly know how to escort a girl home, after spending a night out on the town with her. Was there anything else?"

Harlequin screwed his hands tightly around his poor innocent felt cap as he managed to force out: "And..." before choking up.

She raised an eyebrow: "And?"

Harlequin: "And..."

He threw the cap high into the air and she watched as the breeze carried it away from the tower. When her eyes looked down, someone different stood next to her. A taller more impressive man. In a wide brimmed hat.

"...and I am the Raggedy Man."

What?

Alderney was, likewise, now wearing her "Raggedy Misstry" costume: "Kafana, you are the only person, other than myself, that he has ever told this secret to. The only one he has freely chosen to tell."

Harlequin removed the hat, which then shrank as he slid it back into a hidden pocket on the inside of his left sleeve.

Harlequin: "Actually the friend who helped enchant my costume probably also knows. But she's never asked, and I've never explicitly told her."

She had so many questions.

Kafana: "I'm honoured. That was obviously difficult for you, and you didn't have to. Why did you tell me?"

Harlequin: "You deserve my trust. If I had not screwed up the courage to trust you at least this much, I would not, could not, continue to respect myself."

Alderney, changed back to her normal clothes too, gave Harlequin a hug: "Who's a brave high master jeweller? You are, oh yes you are." She patted him on the head, grinning wildly.

Harlequin looked pleased at the hug, but tried to sound plaintive and hard done by: "See? Even from my apprentice, I get no respect. Three is a lot of people to trust with a secret."

Kafana decided to drop Alderney in it: "Oh, didn't Alderney tell you? It's more than that. Four a start, both our Vessels now know, which takes it to five. But that's only the start. Has she explained 'recordings' to you, yet?"

Harlequin, cautiously: "No. What are these 'recordings' ?"

Kafana: "I have to return to my world now, but I'm sure Alderney will explain. Can I trust you to look after the safety of my Vessel, as well you have mine?"

Harlequin: "With my life", and he didn't sound like he was joking in the slightest.

Kafana: "Thank you. May you have sweet dreams, Harlequin. Until we meet again."

Alderney: "Kafanaaaaaaaaaaa !"

*flip*