An inn and tavern in Hasu Vale, run by Skye and Mi'ehna Sheridan Sands. It isn't an upscale place, really, but it is high up and thusly cleaner and better than the few below it.

The ground floor has a comfortable bar and sitting room, a public bathroom for patrons who are not also guests, and the owners' quarters. Directly up the wooden staircase by the entrance lies the guest hall, which has four sizable chambers and a communal steam room. Downstairs, behind the sealed gateway hidden within a curtain of vines, is the Hall of Lost Pages.

The entire establishment is framed by a vast porch connected to a bridge and a pulley system.



Hasu Directory



I saw moonbeams, and starfish,
dancing side by side.
The never danced together,
they never even tried, and!

I know every, detail,
of why this way was so,
that moonbeams, and starfish,
have no hands to hold!

Mi'ehna Sheridan Sands lies upon the polished bartop, her golden blonde hair spilling in sheets longer than ever before along its wooden surface. In ten years she has only blossomed into true womanhood, her features deepening from the little-girl look she had held when she met her husband a decade previous. She's still lean and wiry, though, if not quite the ass kicking machine of years past.

A little boy of perhaps eight with a wild mane of golden brown years rushes into the room and immediately ducks behind the bar.

A moment later, Skye Sheridan Sands, the owner of the bar and inn, waltzes in with a rather amused smile on his face. The years have been good to him recently, and he's gained a few inches in height. The lines of his face are a little more chiseled, likening him even more to his father.
"Isaiah..." he calls, scanning the room in search his son.

"He is not behind the bar," his dreamy looking mother calls out to her husband, "not in the least."

Skye smirks, walks quietly over, and peeks around. Isaiah sits curled up in a little ball, trying to be invisible.
"Ti ancuntre," Skye says softly in Mardioma, and the child opens one honey hazel eye.

"No fair," he says. "Mamma told you."

Whereupon Skye scoops him up and promptly starts tickling him.

Mi opens a lazy eye at the sound of her son's laughter. "He looks too much like me, Skye, and he laughs like you. We must teach him the ways of manhood." She nods, semi-seriously. "We are out of barley though."

"I like that he looks like you," Skye counters, putting Isaiah down. "And I'm sure that once he starts noticing girls his age, we won't have to worry about his manhood."

Had Isaiah heard this, he would have likely groaned and given his father a halfhearted punch in the stomach. As it is, he's too busy hanging over the railing of their treetop porch, watching the approach of what could be their first customer in some days.
"Look!" he cries, pointing. "Momma, he's got a tail!"

Mi'ehna sits up, stretches hard. A visitor could well mean trouble, even though fate had been kind in that department for some time. She reaches below the bar, a long gone habit, as she no longer leaves weapons in reach of their son, before trotting out to check for herself.

"Isaiah," she scolds, "get off of that rail. What if you fall? Do you want to break mommy's little heart?"

He jumps off immediately. Breaking Momma's heart would not be good. Neither would falling. But still. A tail.

The aforementioned tail - along with its owner - rides up one of the pully lifts and steps onto the porch.
He looks to be about twenty years old, just an inch or two over five feet, with short, straight dark red hair and dark blue eyes. None of these features are unique, though. What has Isaiah staring is the foxlike dark brown tail and ears.
"Is there a room available?" he asks in a calm, clarinet-toned voice.

"Go inside, Isaiah," Mi tells her son, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder. "One second!" she steps into the main room of the inn, working at tying her hair. "Hello! There certainly is!" She holds out her hand, smiling at a person who is only just taller than she. "I am Mi'ehna. Welcome!"

Isaiah reluctantly obeys, smiling breifly at the fox man.

The fox man, meanwhile, stares at Mi'ehna's hand, then down at his own, rough palm and short, thick digits with sharp nails. Finally, though, he decides that it's rude to ignore the greeting, and grasps her hand breifly.
"Crevan is my name," he says.

"Hello, Crevan," Skye greets, coming up behind his wife and offering a friendly smile. "We charge one silver a night, but for one silver and four copper, we also provide three meals a day. Are you here for the festival?"

Crevan nods slowly. "I was only just passing through... in truth. But someone below mentioned it, and I thought I might stay."

"Well, we can accomodate you for sure! Come right over here and I will find you a key." Mi smiles, and trots over to the bar to fish out the key to the Pearl Room. She decides that it will be fine, and places it on the bar. The key is ornamented with a false pearl, pretty, but worthless.

Skye steps aside to let the man enter, and looks out at the trees outside for a moment before following.

Crevan picks up the key, examines it, and sets down a piece of silver and four pieces of copper. "Thank you," he says, offers the closest thing to a smile he can manage, and sets off to settle in.

As soon as he's gone, Skye steps behind the bar and opens the wooden section that covers the stove. "Isaiah," he says, "Once supper is ready, I'll need you to go to Crevan's room and ask if he wants to take his meal at the bar or in his room."

Isaiah nods, delighted at the thought of going to talk to the man with the tail.

"You know how it works, honey. If he makes you afraid in any way, call for one of us. No more heroics, promise me?" She bends down, leaning on her knees, to look her precious baby in the eyes.

Skye smiles as he cuts stips of meat.

"Momma..." Isaiah whines. One time. Try to defend yourself from that weird Dreamer kid and from then on your mother has to worry about you around the visitors. "I know. No heroics." He looks to his father, as if saying, "Please tell her I'm a big boy, now."

Skye only says, "Go wash up, Isaiah. Then check all the empty rooms before you invite Crevan to supper."

Isaiah runs a hand through his haphazard hair and does as he's told.

Mi'ehna stands up and lies back down on the bar, her favorite spot these days. "Who are you calling overprotective?" She grins at Skye. "What are you cooking, my love?"

"Just some beef and vegtables," he replies. "I made this meat sauce the other day..." he nods at a bottle sitting on the shelf. "It turned out very nice, I think." With an expert wrist, he flips the food in the pan and stirs it a little more before adding the sauce.

Isaiah leads Crevan back some time moment later, talking about the Festival of Trees.

Mi sits up, knowing that it is not proper etiquette to lie down on the bar when they are around. "Hello again! Did you find your room to your tastes, Crevan?" She hops off, smiling a bright smile at her son. He's a good boy, at times.

"Yes, thank you. I will be quite comfortable tonight." He takes a seat at the bar.

"Momma, I was telling Mister Crevan about the festival. He's never seen it before," Isaiah takes a seat, too, trying very hard not to watch the fox tail swishing back and forth.

"It is something, for sure," Mi nods, stepping back behind the bar. "My husband and I were awfully busy with guests, but we still found time to string the railings with holly and watch the millisents come out." She nods, in reference to a flock-natured butterfly unique to Hasu Vale. "Would you like a drink?"

"Yes. Something strong, please." He looks down at the plate Skye sets in front of him for a moment before he begins to eat.

"Where are you from?" Isaiah asks between bites. Then, seeing the stern look Skye gives him, adds, "If it's not too rude to ask..."

"I come from a village east of here, still in Forest Lands, but close to Sandrose." He looks from Skye to Isaiah. "Your child is very... friendly."

"I think that it is a fabulous trait for a child. To be inquisitive and open, you know, is the best way to learn." Apart from being beaten into something, but she would never do such a horrible thing as was done to her. "Will a mind eraser do?"

"Nothing as potent," he replies. "I wasn't born with it," he says to Isaiah, referring to his tail.

Isaiah starts to ask, but it cut off by another of his father's looks. With a sigh, he goes back to his meal.

"Ah. You must be a gin and tonic man, then." Mi pulls out two bottles, and proceeds to fill a glass. "Gin," she pours a little, "tooooniiiic," she pours a lot, "and a lime." She pours a bit of juice from a third bottle, mixed them well. "This is good for you, anyway. It prevents scurvy and malaria." 

"Thank you." Crevan has very good eating manners, and without any more interruptions from Isaiah, he finishes everything he's been served, then excuses himself to go sit on the porch.

"Why can't I ask about the tail?" Isaiah asks once he's out of earshot.

"It's not polite to ask personal questions," Skye replies simply. "You don't want to be a nosy little boy, do you?" He reaches out and ruffles his hair affectionately, then starts to clean and put things away.

"I'm going below to buy some things for the festival," he says once he's done. "Do you need anything, My Light?" he asks of Mi'ehna.

"Only a kiss," she smiles, beckoning to him. "... and some milk."

The back of his hand brushes her cheek lightly and the tips of his fingers stroke her hair as he kisses her.

Isaiah jumps down from his chair and goes out to the porch. Sometimes, his parents act as though they've only been married a fortnight.

"I'll be back soon," Skye says, reluctantly pulling away. "Make sure Isaiah is behaving himself around Crevan." He gives his wife one last breif kiss on the cheek, then goes.

Crevan, meanwhile, is leaning against the railing, watching the people around prepare for the festival. Holly hangs everywhere, and children run around with wreaths of it on their heads.

Mi'ehna watches him go. She pours herself a drink as well. "Giiiiiiiiiiiin... tonic!" She laughs to herself; she prefers a great deal less tonic than some people, as she does not care for bitter things. Still, she does not care for malaria, and always puts enough in her drink. "Tonight there will be a vigil," she tells Crevan as she heads out that way, "the whole city will be out, holding up candles. None lit, of course, because this is a forest and fire is too dangerous, but the spirit is there."

"A vigil?" he looks interested.

"For the Trees," Isaiah explains. "The festival honors the coming of spring... the new begining. Winter is considered the death, the ending. Spring is life, the begining." He smiles. "When people die here, it is said that they become the Trees, and become the begining again."

"I see... I will have to find a candle to hold, then."

Isaiah successfully resists the temptation to ask about this, and instead says to his mother, "Can I go play now? Roscoe has a new swing, and he said he'd share it with me."

Mi glances to her son. "Have you finished your chores for the day, sweety?" When she talks to her son her voice is pure honey. Sweet, strong, but hardly fit for babies. She's always liked to treat him like an adult when she can, so that he will know how to be one when he becomes one.

Isaiah seems to consider the question for a moment, no doubt wondering if he can get away with lying. Finally, "I still have to dust in the library." He smiles at Crevan and goes in search of the duster, anxious to finish so that he can go play.

"You're not from here, are you?" Crevan asks. "He doesn't look like the other children." Isaiah's hair is lighter than theirs, and his eyes are hazel, not green.

Mi shakes her head. "No, neither I or my husband. We are retiring here." She knocks back her drink. "And what brings you here, Crevan?"

"I'm on my way to Stonemarch City," he answers. "I was told that Hasu Vale is... neutral land. So I'd be safe here."

Safe. The word puts Mi'ehna instantly on guard. "Safe from what, if you do not mind my asking?" If he's led trouble here, she needs to know about it. Over the years she and Skye have proven to be Hasu Vale's "Secret Weapons" for whenever trouble pokes its head around, and though they have not been called up for some time...

Crevan knows that tone of voice, and he answers fully and truthfully. "From theives. Spies. I'm delivering something very important to Stonemarch. Something that will hopefully prevent a war between Mountain Country and Desert Country." He looks out at the trees again. "I'll only stay until the festival is over."

"You had better watch who you tell that. But I am glad that I know, now. If my son were to be put in danger, I..." Mi shakes her head. She's been trying hard for years to put away her bloodthirsty side, her angry side, and has had some degree of success. "I will not ask what it is. That is not something I need to know, but... if things go wrong, come to one of us."

"I will not put you or your family in danger," he says shortly. "Now... if you'll excuse me." He goes back to his room just as Isaiah emerges from the library.

"I'm done!" he says, putting the duster back in the broom closet. "And I'm going to Roscoe's tree now!"

Mi sighs quietly about Crevan, but puts on her mom face for Isaiah. "I hope you did not just tell me where you were going to go without asking." She sets her drink down. "What do you say?"

"Momma... I finished my chores. Can I please go now?" His arms and legs are itching to be climbing trees. For the moment, he's forgotten all about Crevan and his interesting tail.

Skye steps off the lift at the end of the porch bearing armfuls of holly, candles, and packages of food.

"Give me a hug and you can go," Mi nods, holding out her wispy arms. "Welcome back, my prince," she calls to Skye, her smile as bright for him as ever.

Isaiah wraps his arms around his mother's waist. "I love you, Momma." Within a moment he's racing up the ladder to the bridge that connects to his friend's house.

Skye puts his purchases down on the bartop and smiles as he watches his son.
"Is Crevan in his room?" he asks Mi'ehna, attempting to untangle the strands of holly.

"I think so," Mi nods once Isaiah's gone. "Do you need help with that, love?" She walks over anyway, watching him work at it.

"No... I'll do it." Damn. I can untangle complex strands of light, but this... He's careful, though, not wanting to ruin the decorations. "Bellamy wrote to us," he adds.

"Really? When?" Mi isn't very good about organizational things. Getting the mail is generally left to someone who can remember where the mail comes. 

He smiles. "Today. The letter is here in my pocket... she mentioned that she'll be married this summer." The strand of holly is proving to be more difficult than he first thought. "She wants us to be there." Tug. A handful of berries comes loose and rolls onto the bartop.

Mi'ehna is quick to scoop them up. If they missed one, a child might find it and eat it thinking it to be food. "Careful, Skye. Holly berries are poisonous to people... I will set them out for the birds." She wraps them in a napkin and pockets them for now. "So... going to a wedding? I think we could manage that. Perhaps leave Isaiah with a trusted friend or something, and get some 'us' time."

"That would be nice." Part of the strand comes undone. "I brought some candles... and things for making a cake. What do you think of Crevan? He seems poilte."

Mi'ehna fidgets at that. She hasn't really given him enough thought to be sure of anything.

"He does. Though..." Her lips purse. "He says that he came here to be safe from spies and thieves. That he has something that will prevent a war. I worry that trouble might be trying to find us again." She takes his arm, gently so as not to disrupt his work. "I don't know."

"We should just keep out of his business, then. Hasu Vale is safe and neutral territory - that is, we have a good defense system. He's probably just staying here so he won't have to worry so much for a few nights." The strand comes loose and Skye smirks in triumph, leans against his wife. "Don't worry so much."

"I know, I know. I just keep remembering things. Nightmares, you know. They happen more often lately than they have since that whole Benglelian queen dragon incident."

The pully system moves outside of the inn. Mi looks over just about the time it comes up, bearing a thin, feminine man dressed in an evergreen tunic. His skinny, though muscular, arms are bedecked with bangles in silver and gold.

"Excuse me," he calls, in a voice that matches his appearance, "could I trouble you for a room?"

"Would you mind, Skye?" Mi looks at her man. "The gin is making me feel spacey."

He kisses her cheek. "Go rest, my love." He arranges the holly so that it won't tangle again and goes to introduce himself.
"Skye Sands of Sheridan." He smiles. "And yes, we have a room available."

Mi'ehna heads off to their room quietly. She's not drunk, or anything, and the trip is not eventful.

The visitor bows a deep, courteous bow. His black hair, long but tied tightly in a short style, shines brightly in the light. "I am Azir. The price is a silver, if word of mouth has not deceived me?" He holds out three such coins, along with another coin that looks like platinum and is obviously not native to this area.

"Just one a night... and four copper if you would like meals, as well," Skye replies. "Did you come for the festival, Azir?" he asks politely, reaching behind the bar for a key.

Isaiah comes back right then, dirt on his clothes and blood shining from a shallow cut on his left elbow. He smiles at Azir and slips upstairs before Skye can reprimand him for the blood.

"Ah, yes," Azir nods, rearranging his coins to pay for three days and three meals. "The festival is soon?" He steps inside, careful to slip his sandals off before treading on the floor.

"Tomorrow evening," Skye replies, handing him the key to the Ruby Room. He gestures at the decorations on the bar. "Forgive me for the mess. I was just about to start putting up the holly. Would you like something to drink?"

Azir takes the key gingerly, admiring it for a moment before pocketing it. "Water, if you have it. It flows here in such abundance, as paradise must have it." He sits upon the bar, idling his hands with a strange-looking metal cube about the size of a grapefruit. "I have heard that a lady lives here. Is this so?"

Skye pours a glass full of delicious cold water from the tap and sets it on the bar, then starts to put the foodstuffs away.
"Yes, my wife," he replies shortly.

"Ah. There are many stories of this place, about a couple, that reach even into my homeland across the world. I never would have taken you to be Skye, though, until you said as much." Azir tips the glass into his mouth, where his tongue spreads out and opens like a tube, draining the water into his stomachs. "You haven't the look of a hero, which I suppose is useful in the field of being one."

"Accidental hero, more often than not," Skye says with a grin as he weaves the holly through the knots of branch that support the walls. "And we haven't been adventuring much. Especially since we have Isaiah now."

"It is just as well. Inevitability can fill a schedule nicely, steal away time belonging to your family." Azir drinks a little more. "By chance," he asks, still playing with the box, "have you seen a fox-tailed man come through here recently?"

"A man with a fox tail..." Skye muses. "Isaiah would find that interesting. Friend or enemy?" he asks, not wanting to give anyting away if it's the latter.

"A rival, actually, but not an enemy." Azir shakes his head. "No, no. He left this puzzle box with me, jabbering on about how it could not be solved." He sets it down, uniformly colored and shaped on each side. "I want to gloat, actually."

"Perhaps my wife checked him in," Skye says offhandedly. "We haven't had many visitors as of late, but what with the festival..."

Isaiah comes back wearing clean clothes and with a bandage around his elbow.
"Don't tell Momma that I cut myself, okay?" he says to Skye. "If she knows, she won't let me go play in Roscoe's tree any more."
He smiles at Azir.
"Hello."

Azir smiles warmly right back. "Hello, Isaiah. It is Isaiah, right?" He sets down the gleaming puzzle box.

He nods. "Isaiah David Sands Sheridan." He picks up one of the green candles Skye brought. "Papa, the fox man said he wanted to hold a candle at the vigil. Can I take one to him?"

"The fox man, Isaiah?" Skye arches an eyebrow at his son.

"I mean... Mister Crevan. Our other guest. Please?" Isaiah squirms in his seat.

"Only if he's not sleeping," Skye answers, reachign under the bar for his bottle of Golden Promise.

Azir sips his water again. "A fine boy, but so many names. Would it be alright, then, if I sent the box to mister Crevan with him?" He glances to Skye, and taps on the surface of the box.

Skye considers for a moment. "Isaiah, please go take that box to Crevan, and a candle, too. Don't bother him for too long, and tell him the vigil will start in a few hours."

Isaiah hops down from the barstool, takes a candle.
"Who should I tell Mister Crevan the box is from?" he asks, holding out his hand.

Azir places the box in Isaiah's hand, carefully. "A magician," he laughs, "his face will go red as a beet."

Isaiah's face lights up in an amazed smile, and he nods, heading down the hall.

Skye pours himself a little Golden Promise and then puts the bottle away. "Where are you from, Azir? If it's not too rude to ask."

"Beldun." The magician turns back to the bar, fiddling with a couple of strung handkerchiefs. He seems an anxious fellow, the kind whose hands can never sit still. "It's a canyon far away from here."

"I think I've heard of it," Skye says, taking a sip of his drink. "Mountain County territory in the east, isn't it?"

"Learned as well. No wonder she likes you. Tell me... is it possible to meet your wife?" Azir closes his hands, and the cloths disappear. "I have a bet riding with my apprentice as to whether your wife is a hag or not. The odds appealed to me."

"She's resting right now," Skye answers, "But doubtless you will see her if you stay for the festival."

Crevan emerges from his room, hands tense at his side.

"Crevan! There you are." Azir tips his glass again. "Did you have a nice trip?" He retains his passive expression, as though nothing is out of place. Ever.

He's seen this man before. He can't quite recall the name, but he remembers him.
"You..."
He rounds on Skye. "What kind of father are you?"

Skye just stares.

"Your son... may be in danger. You should be more careful about feeding his curious appetite." He looks to Azir. "And you... what do you want with me?"

"Where is Isiah?" Skye demands.

"A man with the key to stopping war asks a man who has tracked him down what he wants." Azir shakes his head. "Where is my box, Crevan? Then we'll know where Isaiah is."

"Stonemarch City," Crevan says to Skye. "Where I was supposed to deliever scrolls of binding from Desert Country. To stop the Mountain Counrty from closing in on Desert Country."

Skye falls against the wall, closing his eyes as emotions of fear, anger, and worry wash over him. Mi'ehna is going to kill me.

"I suppose the kid never made it to you with the puzzle box? Or did you just give it back to him to push, Crevan? Either way, let's have those scrolls." Azir holds out a hand. "So it doesn't get physical."

Just as Crevan draws a pistol, Skye jumps out from behind the bar, a shaft of light trembling in his palm.
"No fighting in my bar," he says. "Take this outside."
He doesn't have time for this right now. His son has been magiked away. Hopefully the boy remembered to put a wishing stone or two in his pocket.

"No fighting in the bar, Crevan." Azir holds up his hands. "No fighting period. If you seal that border it's only going to get worse. It will build up, tension, hostility... believe me, my government will blame yours for being hostile by closing up relations. The people will rise up. Lots more will hurt if it waits."

The door to Mi'ehna and Skye's room opens up, and a sleepy-looking Mi'ehna appears in the doorway. "Skye," she calls to her husband, "kick them both out, if they want to fight. I am too tired to listen to the ruckus."

Skye decides that it's best not to tell his wife about Isaiah just now.
"Crevan, put that away."
The fox man hesitates a moment, then tucks his pistol back in his belt.

"I'm not giving you the scrolls," he says to Azir. In truth, Crevan can't even read them. "I will deliever them to Stonemarch, and your government there will decide what to do with them." He takes a step back, then another, then disappears into the dark hall, doubtless going to gaurd the scrolls.

"I don't know what's going on between your countries," Skye says, letting the shaft of light in his palm die. "But keep me and my family out of this. I want you to leave. And I don't care what you do to Crevan once he steps out of Hasu Vale."

"I didn't ask your family into it. This should've went smoothly. But now your son is involved, and guess what?" Azir shrugs. "You want him back, I can get him back for you. Help me help you."

Mi'ehna's eyes clear instantly. "What about our son?" She flows into the main room, tightening her sash about her waist. "If you threaten my son I will kill you where you stand."

Lord of Light... Skye starts to channel his light back, as he might need it in a moment.

"Your son won't be harmed," comes Crevan's voice from the hallway. He's holding one of the five scrolls in his hand, the others are in his pockets.
"I'm sure the Stonemarch government won't see him as a threat."
He glares at both Skye and Azir.
"This man set up a trap for me, but it fell into the hands of your son."

"Trap." Mi looks to Azir.

"Hey. Your son was delivering it two hallways away. It isn't my fault he turned on the damn thing." Azir glances to Mi'ehna. "I am sorry for it. But your son is the least of my concerns right now." He looks again to Crevan. "Going to give them up now, or later?"

Mi'ehna slinks back into her room. Skye, though, ought to know that she's heading for the hidden closet behind her vanity. The one full of weapons.

"I already said that I'd give them up," Crevan doesn't move. "But not to you. I'm the messenger, and this message isn't for you."

Skye groans inwardly. So this is how he must sound, playing hero. He almost regrets it. Rather than dweel on that, though, he reaches in his own pocket and pulls out a blue stone. A few muttered words, and the scroll Crevan is holding - along with the others - disappears.

Azir actually gasps when the scroll disappears. "Hey! What did you do? Stop doing things!"

Mi'ehna appears again in the doorway, only this time, each hand bears a wickedly curved dagger, and her eyes have lost whatever amicability they had. She waits.

"Those scrolls aren't coming back until I have my son back," Skye says, his tone matching the look in his wife's eyes. "And if he is harmed, I'm going to kill you both."

Crevan stares at him. Stares at Mi'ehna. Overprotective.

Just then, the house gives a huge lurch, and the sound of something like many bird's wings errupts from the library, and the hall seems to burp out a mass of ripped pages.

"Azir..." Skye manages, once the pages have drifted to the floor, "Was that box, by any chance, containing a magic transportation spell of some kind?"

"Of course it was. It was supposed to take this idiot back to my client's base of operations in Stonemarche." 

Skye looks around at the torn pages. "Mi..." he says slowly, "I think the magic in the house clashed with the magic in that box. Isaiah isn't in Stonemarch." This, in part, is good. Still. He looks from Crevan to Azir. "You want those scrolls? Bring me back my son."

Crevan sighs in defeat. "I will go for him."

"Lovely neutral party." Azir shakes his head. He reaches into his pocket and pulls something out, something round, and shiny. "The scrolls are fine wherever they are. I can't have you giving them to anyway, so..."

Mi'ehna's dagger is at his throat in an instant. "Leave."

Azir holds up his hands slowly. "Alright, alright. In a minute-!"

Mi'ehna barely sees the attack coming. Before she can even breathe, the cobra's fangs stab into her hand, and Azir leaps back as the serpent melts away, back into the ball he had in his pocket. 

Skye is at her side in a second, spitting out a heated Mardioma insult at Azir.
"If she dies from poisoning," he says, "I will kill you. Slowly." His wings show themselves.

"Hey. She attacked me." Azir shrugs again. "And if she dies, it'll be from her nervous system shutting down and her lungs collapsing. I believe you asked me to leave." He heads for the door as if he hasn't a care in the world.

"Give me the antidote or you're getting below the hard way," Skye threatens.

Crevan takes a cautious step back and looks down at the pages, hoping to gain some clue as to where Isaiah might have got to.

Mi'ehna's dagger clatters to the floor. She has already started to sweat, to shiver, as the poison begins to take effect.

"Easy antidote. Slash her arm, suck the poison out, spit it somewhere. Easy." Azir keeps on walking.

Skye doesn't wait for Azir to finish speaking before he scoops up the fallen dagger - hesitates a moment - then cuts at the beautiful skin, putting his healing rune to work as well. He'll worry about revenge later.

Mi'ehna squeaks when the blade slits her flesh, shakes her head. "Skye... Skye he's bluffing. That snake wasn't real..." She shakes her head. "It's already fading..."

But Azir is already gone.

Skye presses his hand to the cut, wills it to heal. Damn him.

Crevan looks up from the handful of pages. They're all written in different letters.
"The magic in this house..." he starts.

Skye nods. "It's complicated."

Mi'ehna leans a little more heavily on her husband, tired now that the sedative in the faux cobra venom is taking effect. "I thought we sealed the door to the hall. How are we going to get Crevan inside?"

Skye looks around at the scattered pages. "I'm just making a guess, but I think the library might have an open path."

"Oh... here." Mi'ehna removes her strung necklace, at the tip of which a sphere of pure opal hangs glittering in the light. "This is part of a key. Skye, do you know where the Prime Key is?" She looks at Crevan. "The Prime Key is a malleable tool. If you put this jewel in its slot it will mold into the house's master key. I think the different pages have different jewels, though, at least this will get you in."

Skye mutters something under his breath, holds out a fist, then - after a breif glow of electric blue light - opens it to reveal the key in his palm. It's rather plain-looking, just a dull silver color with a round ring at one end and a nondiscript locking/unlocking point.

Crevan takes it carefully, examines it a moment.

"Go into the library," Skye instructs him. "On the desk there is a large book. Don't touch the pages with anything but the key. The jewels are in the black box beside it. If some of them are missing, then they might have got lost in the page worlds."

He puts a hand to Fairfight. "I'll join you if and when I can. For now..." he looks out into the trees. "I have something to do."

"Keep the key on you," Mi nods, beginning to shake out of her stupor. "The prime key is a universal key for any non-magical lock. It's better than a lockpick. Don't lose it. Skye..." she looks at her husband. "Where are you going?"

Crevan nods in Mi'ehna's general direction, then heads down the hall to the library, his hand itching to just draw a pistol and demand the scrolls back. But Isaiah...

"Azir left before I got the chance to show him the Trees, Mi," Skye replies.

"Please, Skye, do not do anything you might regret..." Mi's eyes plead with him, begging him to stay. Largely because if she is alone after losing her son like that, she might fly off the handle.

He looks back at her, tries to smile. Lord of Light. "Mi... what happened to Isaiah, it was my fault. I let my gaurd down when I should have been more suspicious of Azir. Especially after he mentioned he was looking for Crevan. But... he hurt you. So. Are you saying I should do nothing?"

"No..." she shakes her head. "I am saying be quick, and make him pay in a hurry."

He nods. Oh, he'll pay.
"I love you, Mi'ehna," he says before hurrying out into the tree city, Fairfight seeming to speak to him as he climbs down into the Bough Bridge.

Mi'ehna is quick to find their bed, dropping off to sleep in a heartbeat. 

---

Azir's path has been quick, and whether Skye can track him or not is a matter of conjecture. He is a magician, after all.

Skye is lucky that Bough Bridge is mostly empty, and he takes advantage of this by moving as fast as he can. Bough Bridge provides the best view of the city, but more importantly, it is built on a solid frame of a Holy Tree, and there's some light in it. Light that Skye can use to tap into all the other trees for signs of the magician.