A carriage rolls along the rocky, bumpy road that winds its way through the hills and valleys between the principalities of Cobalt and Diamante. A brown frizzy-haired Kavi driver sits at the reins. The carriage is drawn by two lumbering n'gyahs – bulky, thick, gray-skinned quadrupeds that look like a cartoony parody of draft horses.

"Theretherethereitis!" chitters the Kavi, whacking the top of the carriage a few times excitedly with his prod. "Cobaltitis,rightaheadgonnagettheresoon!"

The sun shines down warmly, competing with the chill autumn winds. The valley is painted in a collage of reds, oranges, yellows and browns, spotted by occasional stubborn flashes of dark green.

A smoky gray eye opens up and winces at the sunlight that stabs into the carriage. The eye's owner yawns and shakes herself off. "Someone's a morning person, I see," the rat grumbles and peers out of the carriage window.

A tumbling brook races the carriage downhill, running alongside the mountain road. Briefly, the carriage rocks a little less as it rolls over a wooden bridge that crosses the brook … and then it goes right back to being bumpy again. Sleeping in such a carriage is an acquired skill … and one skill that it looks like Testament-Blaze hasn't quite mastered.

The bookish cheetah rocks around in his seat, bouncing in and out of near-dozing between and with each jolt.

Burr, however, accustomed to all sorts of inconveniences, is sprawled out in the opposite side of the carriage, taking up two seats.

The Kavi driver chitters, "Lookeelookee!Cobaltcastleveryprettyyes?Yougoingthererightright?Notfarnow,notfarnow!"

And he continues on in this vein, as if his heart might fail if he stops talking for more than a few breaths.

( Just give him a few stormy nights on an airship; if you can sleep through that, you can sleep through anything. ) Willow pokes her head out of the carriage window and looks up at the Kavi. "That's right." She smirks a little; the driver probably isn't even listening to her.

"Herewego!WhoawhoawhoastoppatGoof!StoppatMunch!Whoawhoawhoa!" chitters the Kavi, and the carriage slows to a stop, as the n'gyahs bellow. The road levels out a bit, and Willow can spot a wooden structure to one side of the road.

"What's here, eh?" chitters a new voice, obviously Skreek. "Coming from Diamante, eh? What's yer business?"

Willow nudges the priest with a foot as she tries to wake him up the rest of the way before she leans out the window a little farther. "An airshipman here to deliver a gift to Prince Cobalt and perhaps do some trading if he feels so inclined."

The rat soldier comes around and peeks into the carriage. He's got rusty fur, and a shock of long black hair pulled back in a topknot. He wears padded leather armor trimmed in a faded black sash, and the leather looks well worn and scuffed in ways that suggests that he may actually see action now and then. "To the Prince hisself, eh?" He peeks around, counting the passengers, then walks back out of sight. It sounds like he's inspecting the cargo.

Testament-Blaze makes a startled snort and snaps out of a half-doze. He peers out of one of the carriage side-windows curiously, trying to rub away sleep from his eyes.

The Kavi chitters on at a mile-a-minute about all the places he's been to, about how nice of a n'gyah Munch is, and Goof, too, and how nice the weather is, and how pretty the trees are and … well, it's hard to keep up with him, really.

"If he'll see us." The gray Skreek peers back suspiciously as the guard inspects the cargo. This is a bit more military than Diamante, to be sure.

The guard pokes around … and it looks like he's eyeing some metal bits … but he glances at Willow, and smiles. "Looks to be in order to me." He closes the trunk sloppily, failing to latch it properly. "All right … move along! Move along!"

"Just a moment!" Willow squeaks out. "Hold up… "

The soldier gives Willow an annoyed glance, then walks back to his post beside the road.

The female Skreek rattles the door open and hops to the back of the carriage to secure the trunk again. She eyes the cargo for any missing bits, just in case.

Yes, it looks like a bottle of spirits that Barnacle sent along "for good cheer" is missing. The cloth that was underneath it (to cushion it against bumpy roads) is still indented where the bottle was located.

Willow shoots a glare at the guard. "'Scuse me… but I don't think Prince Cobalt will think too highly of knowing that his guard has been drinking at his post. Mind returning my bottle?"

The guard breaks off from ogling Willow, and stands to attention, snapping his polearm back into place. Then, he relaxes again, sneering. "Huh? Hey … it's a toll. Move along. Ain't gonna give me no trouble, are ya?"

"Mother Diamante didn't tell me squat about a toll, and that bottle is a special gift from my captain to your Prince. I'm in no scruddy mood to put up with a sticky-fingered guard who thinks he can snitch things from me." She folds her arms. "So if you don't mind, I'd like the Prince's property back."

"Lissen, sister … This is a small territory, and I ain't seen no friend of Prince Cobalt what looks like you, and you sure as scrud don't look like anybody what's going to get an audience with the Prince. So you just roll along, and don't cause no trouble, eh?" He smirks. "Unless you's got another proposal for how to pay the toll." His eyes wander.

The Kavi, meanwhile, is still chattering his little head off about how you have to be really careful how you feed n'gyahs, or they get digestive problems.

Willow grinds her teeth. "You're a proper one to judge who the Prince's friends are… an alcoholic thieving letch of a rat. I'm sure that the Prince hand picked you from his royal guard, eh? I'll ask you one more time politely… Please give me the bottle back."

The guard gets an ugly look in his eyes, and he looks to the Kavi. "You! Move along! I need to question this here troublemaker."

The Kavi turns around, and starts chittering, "Movealong?ButIgottatakemypassengerthere,gottagoseePrinceCobaltyouknow,came
allthewayfromDiamante – "

The lady Skreek backs up closer to the cart, grasping her "walking cane". "'Toll' indeed. I suppose that if this is a toll bridge, that makes you a troll, eh?"

"SHUT UP!" shouts the guard, momentarily distracted from the lady Skreek, and he pokes at one of the n'gyahs with his polearm, prompting even more chittered protests from the driver. He seems to be "ignoring" the troll comment for the moment … at least until he can think of a snappy comeback. Given his performance so far, that may take a while.

Willow's ears flatten and she starts walking towards the guard. "I bet you're not even a official guard. You just stay here to roll any honest folks that come by. I wonder what the Prince will think if he knew he had a pirate protesting his borders." She plants the butt of the staff into the dirt. "Give me the bottle. It's not yours and you have no right to it."

"You want the bottle, eh?" the guard chitters, and then he gives the n'gyah a good whack with the butt of his polearm on the flank. The n'gyah is at last startled into movement, and the carriage bumps down the road, the Kavi clinging onto his seat, since he was backwards at the time. A spotted arm pokes out of the flapping carriage door (still open), trying to grab onto something solid.

The guard then tosses the bottle in the grass, and strides over to Willow, reaching for her bad arm. "You ain't gonna say nothin' to da scruddy prince."

"A bully too, are you?" She jerks back. "Don't you touch me. I'd rather not risk getting the prince growly at me by fighting with one of his guards, but I'm not going to get pawed and yanked around by the likes of you."

The guard drops his polearm, and grabs at Willow. He actually manages to grab hold of her upper left arm with his right hand. "Sez who, spunky?" The pungent smell of liquor reaches Willow's nose from his breath. Looks like he's already been helping himself to some liquor before he found an opportunity to replenish his supply from the cargo.

"Filthy RAT," Willow hisses through her teeth, kicking out at the guard with her knee.

The guard might have seen it coming, but his reflexes are a bit muddy … The sharp pain from the knee to a vital area, however, causes his eyes to snap wide open, and he puckers his mouth in pain. He instinctively lets go of Willow and tries to protect himself with his arms.

Anger burning brightly now, Willow swings out at the Skreek's head with her staff. Although not very strong, she still tries to keep from swinging the weapon too hard. An unconscious guard is preferable to a dead one.

The staff catches the guard's unprotected head across the side … and the fight is over quickly, with the guard laid out on the ground. Ouch. That's going to leave a mark.

The carriage, meanwhile, has come to a stop, the Kavi bouncing around and trying to calm down his mounts. Burr struggles to extricate himself from the carriage, being a bit larger than the usual passengers.

The female Skreek lets her breathing slow to a bit less frenzied pace as she moves to fetch the bottle from the grass. She glances at the wooden guardhouse, and tries to see if there are any other items looted from other passers-by in there as well.

It looks like there are several empty bottles in there, plus the guard's helmet, and several pieces of armor (some of which would have been awfully useful in this little scuffle) lying there rather than being worn.

Willow pats down the bits of armor, looking for any bit of identification for this particular guard.

No, no identification. It looks like they must not be as organized as, say, in Rephidim. Either that or if he's supposed to have any, he isn't carrying it.

The carriage rolls back up the path, Burr hanging out the side.

Shaking her head, the Skreek treads back to the carriage and secures the trunk closed. "I want to take a different path out of here when we leave," she announces before climbing back in.

Burr squeezes back into the carriage. He puts his hand to his chest in a "sorry" hand-sign.

Testament-Blaze leans out the window, then signs to Willow, "Is everything all right?"

The Kavi chitters, "Oh!Verybadverybad.Drunkguardpassedoutbesidetheroad.Tsktsktsk.Betternotmentionthisto
anybody,wouldn'twanttheguardtogetintroublenowwouldI?Ohwell!Yes,yes,take
anotherroutehome.OntoCobaltCity!Gogogogo!" The n'gyahs trot along, turning the carriage back around to head downhill toward the city again.

"Fine. Just fine." Willow pulls a handkerchief from her pouch and starts to wipe off the tip of her walking stick. "Just some letch rat figuring I'm as easy as any other rat he's met."

The carriage rolls on into the town. There are no more stops by guards, let alone any little "incidents" like back at the bridge.

"Thereitis!Thecastle!Looksbiggerupclosedon'tit?Ihearit'sbeenthereareallylongtime!Longerthan
I'vebeenaround.Ormypapaormypapa'spapaormypapa'spapa'spapaormypapa'spapa'spapa'spapaor… " the Kavi chitters.

Burr looks out one of the windows curiously, hunched down so he won't knock a hole in the ceiling of the carriage with his head.

Willow keeps herself distracted by fussing with her clothes and trying to get her hair into presentable shape before they arrive. She gives Burr's leg a kick before shoving a brush into his hands. "Here… Clean yourself up. You made a mess of yourself hanging out of the carriage like that earlier."

Burr scrubs at himself with the brush … which doesn't really accomplish much of anything. Grooming isn't one of his specialties.

As the carriage rolls along, Skreeks can be seen everywhere. Of course, there are also plenty of Kavis, too, and the occasional representative of the various other species to be found in Kroz, but no sign of any outsiders bothering to visit this particular place. Not all of the Skreeks are of the Krozite stock – There are plenty of the "normal" Skreek variety.

As is probably appropriate for a rat city, this is no city on the hilltop, full of gleaming spires and nice, white-toothed, friendly and nice-smelling people. No, it's rough around the edges, and a little on the stinky side. But at least it's not a dirt pit like Darkside.

"Pick a direction and brush that way," Willow says absently as she looks out the carriage window. She studies the town, sizing up the people there and the buildings within it. She smirks to herself, finding a bit of a similarity between King Vrixt's kingdom and this one.

Outside, it's evident that there are rats who actually do things other than wallow around in filth. The carriage rolls past a bakery … and while a Rephidimite in the better parts of town would no doubt steer clear of the slightly run-down looking house (which could use some patching on the roof) it's still fairly clean. There's a flower vendor on the side of the street, and he actually has customers. Some rat kids are playing in an alleyway … and there's no sign of a fight breaking out just yet. Still, there are a few dark alleys, and it might be wise to be careful after dark.

A couple of guards in armor similar to that of the one at the bridge march by, armed with polearms. Their garb is a bit different, though. For starters, they're actually wearing their full outfits of padded leather vest and apron, grieves and bracers, along with hardened leather caps that protect their crown and the back of the neck. They wear sashes of deep blue.

Burr, meanwhile, tries to follow Willow's directions. He's doing a little better, but he's got a lot to learn.

"Maybe there was a reason they stuck the letch out as far from town as they could," the lady Skreek chitters to herself, leaning back in her chair. "Well, I just hope we're expected at the castle, although I think I could get along in this town fairly nicely." She pats her vest pocket, checking on the gold ring she carries.

The dull gray walls of the castle loom ahead. The street makes a T-intersection here, with a smaller roadway with far less traffic heading on up to the castle. The Kavi has to pause a bit to let a lumber wagon roll by … and then he carries on.

The wagon comes to another stop at some heavy wooden gates, guarded by a couple of guards. Watch towers might hold more. One of them walks up to the Kavi, and politely bobs his head a few times at the Kavi's nonstop chatter … but his patience wears thin. "Sir … your business … sir? Yes, they're nice n'gyahs. Yes … aha. I'll remember that if I ever get a … Sir?" The Skreek sighs, and walks over to the window of the carriage, peering in.

Testament-Blaze smiles and waves to the guard.

Burr looks up, embarrassed, and tries to hide the brush.

Willow straightens in her seat, "We're here to pay Prince Cobalt a visit. He should be expecting us, I think. We've just come from Castle Diamante and would like to speak with the Prince about potential trading with my Captain, and also offer the Prince a gift."

The guard nods. "From Diamante, eh? Just a moment." He looks back out. "Hey, Raldo! They say they're from Diamante, to see the – Oh! All right." He pokes his nose back in. "Just a moment. We'll open the gates." And then he disappears, as creaking noises come from in front of the carriage.

Burr hastily tries to brush at his fur some more.

The gray Skreek leans back in her seat and sighs. "Thank fires most of his guards are disciplined."

The heavy wooden gates roll to the side, and the Kavi's carriage at last passes on through. The courtyard is pretty bland as castle courtyards go. There are some trees, and someone evidently has been raking the leaves … but they're in piles at the bases of the trees, awaiting burning. There are a few statues of rats striking heroic poses, with the novel touch of having wires stuck in their muzzles to simulate whiskers. Nobody has swiped the wires, so that must be a good sign.

The carriage turns onto a circle drive that goes around a burbling stone fountain, and comes to a stop at the entrance. "CastleCobalt,homeofPrinceCobalt,capitolofCobaltPrincipality!" chitters the Kavi driver.

"Seems like a practical enough fellow," Willow murmurs to herself before turning to look at her two companions. "All right now. Prince Cobalt seems like a pleasant enough fellow, but he's harshly blunt and seems a bit on the stubborn side, plus he's got a chip on his shoulder about women and pirates. On top of that, he doesn't like you to waffle around with words, so mind yourself. I don't know if he understands handsign, but your movements and expressions can be just as easily read as words. So I want both of you to behave. Got it?"

Testament-Blaze looks mildly scandalized at the lecture, but bows his head. Burr ducks his head as well, nodding.

The Skreek opens up the carriage door. "Then let's go to it, gentlemen. Burr, start unloading the back."

A bit of unloading later, and the small party is admitted into the castle, Burr carrying the trunk. While the interior of the castle is roomy as abodes go, it's not as impressive as the audience hall of King Vrixt in terms of space or decor. There are a few nooks where someone thought to stick a vase, but rarely any flowers in them, or perhaps a figurine or other curio that might have been a gift to the Prince or an ancestor at some point. Although the audience hall isn't right inside the door, it's a fairly straight path through the entry-way to get there.

Willow, Burr and Testament-Blaze are admitted into the audience hall of Prince Viol Cobalt by some Kavi attendants, one of whom toots on a trumpet to announce the arrivals.

Prince Cobalt, sprawled out sideways across his throne, startles out of a nap, bumping a cart next to his table, and nearly toppling a bottle of ale. Having his priorities in line and reflexes as well, he quickly stabilizes the bottle, taking a quick nip before he barks at the Kavi, "Warn me before you do that … ah … " He notices the party, and straightens his raiment, sitting upright, and brushing some crumbs out of the empty throne next to him.

Willow reflexively sniffs at the air, collecting the scents of the castle as she enters the audience hall. She winces a bit at the trumpets but keeps quiet. When she's close enough to the Prince, she eases herself down on one knee. "Thank you for seeing us, Prince Cobalt."

Testament-Blaze and Burr bow as well.

"Oh yes … you're from Diamante, aren't you? I wasn't expecting you so early. So, who are you, anyway? And are you a guy or a girl? You look a bit scrawny. Hard to tell," chitters the rat on the throne.

The Skreek pulls herself up to her feet. "I'm Willow-the-Wisp, doctor and translator for the airship Merryweather, and I'm a girl." She gestures over her shoulder at the two Savanites. "This is Burr, who helps me with the heavy things and bops folks for me; and on the other side of me is Testament-Blaze, a priest of the Star, whom I've been using as a scribe."

"Now, now. I didn't say you can rise." The regal rat pauses, then says, "You may rise. That's better. And why does he have a towel wrapped around his head? He looks stupid."

"Because his helmet still reeks of perfume." Willow glances back at the priest. "He feels that it's inappropriate for people to look at his face. It's a harmless belief, so I've not hindered it."

The Prince nods. "Ah. Yes, I wish a few more of my subjects realized how inappropriate it is to look at their faces. Some mornings, I might be able to use a towel myself. Carry on, carry on. And, please, let him know not to bow more than once every … oh … five minutes or so. He's going to break his back if he keeps on like that. Now then … what business do you have? Oh yes, and in case you say something that angers me and I throw something at you in a fit of anger, it is considered perfectly acceptable etiquette to dodge or duck out of the way."

"Well, for starters, we wanted to see if you'd be interested in trading with my ship. We've got wares from all over the continent and are hoping to trade for supplies to help us mend our airship." Willow waves a hand at the priest, trying to get him to settle a little. "I've also been studying Krozite history while visiting the Diamantes, and I'd like to learn what I can from you."

"You've been studying Krozite history?" repeats the black rat Prince, with a curious twitch to his brow. "My condolences." He claps his hands together. "But now on to the good stuff. All right … What do you have to offer? And what do you need?"

"Yes, Prince Cobalt." The gray Skreek bows again and motions for Burr to open the trunk. "We've brought along a sampling of a little of everything in our stores. From Chronotopian clocks to Abu Dhabian cloth. In return, we'd like to get some airtight cloth, lumber, and some gasses for our balloon – although we're also quite happy to see what else you may want to trade with us." She pulls out the bottle she rescued from the guard. "This is from my captain. A gift to you, if you partake."

The Skreek Prince looks interested. "Ah. I'll make sure to only partake after we discuss particulars. All right … lumber we have aplenty. Airtight cloth … I'll have to check on. Gases … I'll have to talk with my court wizard. As soon as I can find him. Can your party afford to stay a while, or is this a 'hurry before it's all gone' type of deal?"

"We're in no rush," Willow answers. "I'd very much like to swap stories with you, should you be able to spare the time, and I have a couple of Krozite questions I'm hoping you can help me answer, but that can wait until later."

"You said you had clocks, right? My old one is busted," grumbles the rat leader. "And just what sort of 'Krozite questions' do you have in mind?"

A little rat in a miniature version of the uniform of the guards walks into the room, holding a shovel handle as a polearm. He blinks a few times, and then stares at the visitors.

"Mother Diamante said that you believed that the name of the original Krozite king was Naochi. I was interested in knowing why you felt this, since from what I gathered most of the other Princes felt that their own bloodline was that of the King's. I found it interesting that you didn't feel the same way." She pats her pocket, "I'm also curious if the name 'Vrixt' means anything to you."

Willow starts fumbling around in the chest until she pulls out an ornate wood and chitin clock. Upon seeing the child, she also takes out a small wind-up Korv, spins its tailfeathers around a few times and sets it on the floor. The mechanical bird starts to hop forward a bit irregularly, but it's a cute contraption nonetheless.

The rat Prince gives Willow a dubious look. "All right. I'll play along with whatever game you've got. Yes, I've heard the name 'Vrixt' before. It's an old old old family … " He gets distracted.

There's a clatter as the little rat drops his polearm and dashes over toward the mechanical bird. He stops and stoops down, whiskers twitching, watching the wind-up bird intently.

"… name," the Prince adds. He clears his throat. "Nice toy. Now, as for House Naochi… "

Willow looks ready to say something, but keeps it in for the moment as she waits for the Prince to finish speaking.

"… there's a simple reason why," Prince Cobalt continues. "It's because they've got the throne room of the old kingdom right under their castle, and plenty of inscriptions that have 'Naochi' all over the place. I really don't think it's a hoax."

"Have you seen the throne room yourself?" The female Skreek tilts her head sideways a little.

"Nope," says the Prince. "The place is supposed to be sealed off. Went down there with Tachiri when I was a pup and got the … " He looks over at the little rat. "… stuffing scared out of me. Haunted, you know."

Willow bites her lip, "You see any spooks while you were there?"

"Naw," answers the Prince. "Once the wind started picking up … underground … and there was all this shrieking and the voices going, 'DIE DIE DIE', I beat a shiny trail out of there."

"How well did you know Tachiri? I'd heard about their misfortunes with children, and the doctor scrambling away after Kiri survived." The gray Skreek taps her chin, pondering.

"Oh! We were the best of pals. Oh yes. Back when I had cheese for brains. Yes, it was so thoughtful of him to invite me to sneak down into the forbidden ruins underneath his castle … and to go first into every room. Why, in the boundless space of his heart, he wanted me to have the honor of getting to see any traps or spooks first, you see," grumbles Prince Cobalt.

"Good thing most of them were busted… " the royal rat adds.

The little rat "guard" watches the bird, looking disappointed when it winds down.

Testament-Blaze stoops down and winds up the toy Korv, then sets it down again.

"One of those." Willow nods, frowning. "I'll ask you bluntly, as you seem to appreciate folks who are to the point. Would he seem like the type to do away with his four daughters so he could have a male heir?"

The rat Prince snaps his fingers. "You betcha. I'd bet you fifty shekels he did it himself just to make sure."

"What was his standing with the Dack household? When I was in Sylvania, I met a loon of a cat who had the same name as the doctor. If this man was a mage, I'd have hated to see how his patients came out." The gray Skreek taps her chin.

"They've been in … cahoots together since whenever," the Prince says, watching the smaller version of himself study the wind-up Korv. "Dack must get something out of it, but it's sure not obvious just what – unless you count all the lands and properties they've been buying up thanks to that idiot Kiri's sell-off of the Naochi estate. I did get some nice furniture out of it, though… "

"I'd like to find out what myself, mostly just to finally shed some answers on a few things." Willow shrugs. "Furniture? Mind if I take a look at it while I'm here?"

The Prince looks like he's about to agree, but then he shuts his mouth and hunches down a bit on the throne. "It's in the bedroom," he says coldly. "Let's stick to the gossip and the trading, shall we?"

Willow throws up her hands. "My intents are strictly informative. I suppose that if the furniture had any secret compartments or hidden treasures, you'd have found them already." Willow lets her hand fall to her pocket again. "Did you hear any rumors about the Naochi children's death? I know it was keep quiet for the most part."

The little rat accidentally knocks the toy bird over. It wobbles around on its back, prompting the little rat to snicker, as Testament-Blaze rights the toy again.

"What, the 'mysterious deaths' of four daughters in a row … and the fifth child, a male heir, doing just fine … isn't suspicious enough?" the rat Prince sputters. "Who needs rumors?"

She nods. "I suppose that's true enough. What do you know about the Dack family? Ever hear of odd things they were doing with their magic?"

The rat Prince says, "Oh … I'm sure anything really scandalous, they wouldn't let word leak out about. But I've wondered sometimes whether all the ghosts they've got roaming about aren't taking orders from Prince Sebazhan … or whomever is the current meow-meow in power."

Prince Cobalt ponders. "Of course, there are all the rumors of those blood sacrifices, the dancing around under the light of the Procession … but then, that could have just been a barbecue party."

Willow fishes the ring out of her pocket. "Speaking of ghosts – before I get too caught up in gossip… I have something to give you, Prince Cobalt. While I was back in the Diamante lands, I managed to find a tunnel that lead to a city called Vrixt, that was kinged by a man of the same name. I know it sounds as though I'm an utter loon in saying this, but while I was in the throne room, I met with what I think was the ghost of King Vrixt, and he asked me to give something to his current heir. As I believe that person to be you, I brought it with me."

The Prince looks at the ring. "Bah … beh … beh … what?" He blinks several times.

The lady Skreek holds the ring out. "I know it's crazy. But this is the King's signet ring, and as his descendant, it belongs to you and your son." She shakes her head. "I'm just delivering it. It doesn't belong to me."

Prince Cobalt takes the ring and turns it around in his fingers a few times. He pauses a long moment, then chitters, "Gimme that hooch."

Willow takes up the bottle and wipes it off against her shirt. "Careful opening it. One of your guards at the border tried to liberate it from our chest and it's gotten shaken up a tad." She clears her throat. "Should we resume trading talks tomorrow? I don't want this to look like a bribe. If you're not interested in what we have, we'll take our stock and go. No strings."

The prince takes the bottle, looks as if he's about to pop it open … then thinks the better of it and swigs some ale from the already open bottle instead. "Sure, sure. Ah … " He pulls on a chain, and a bell rings. Some Kavis scoot into the room. "Fix up some rooms. We have guests. And make sure it's not the room with the drip. Or the one with the door that sticks. Or … Oh, just have someone fix that door, would you?"

"May I ask you a few more questions?" Willow squeaks.

"Ah, sure … I'm not drunk yet," the rat Prince chitters.

The female Skreek nods. "Ria Naochi. What do you know about her?"

"Ria Naochi? Wife of Tachiri Naochi. A very pretty punching bag. If she'd had any sense, she should have slipped some arsenic into – " The rat Prince looks at the Kavi attendants. "Shoo, shoo!" They disappear. He continues. "Well, she was pretty, timid and obedient. And either she was very stupid, or else she was so determined to 'live the good life' that she put up with far too much."

"What about their butler, Rezhinald?" Willow taps her foot as she ponders.

"He gives me the creeps," responds the black rat.

The gray Skreek quirks an eyebrow. "Why? I've been told that he's distantly related to you a little, also distantly related to the Naochi family."

The Prince sputters, "Where do you get all this stuff, anyway? Yeah, yeah. He's related somehow. He still gives me the creeps."

"I've been poring through the Diamante library the past few weeks. Since I plan on going there as soon as my arm's back in good shape, I figure I should know who to trust, who to not worry myself with, and who to keep looking over my shoulder for," Willow responds.

Prince Cobalt says, "Let me get this straight. You're an airship merchant, and in order to make a sale, you look up the family history of potential trading partners? All right … maybe that can let you know what my favorite brand of hooch is … which, incidentally, this isn't … but this strikes me as more than a little … ah … obsessive."

"I never said this was for business. I was attacked by a snicjer when I first arrived here, and barely escaped with my life. After that, people have been telling me that I've got Krozite ancestry and it's prompted me to look into Krozite history. Just the deeper I look, the more questions I get." The gray Skreek puts her free hand in her pocket. "I don't like mysteries."

"Yes, I can tell you've got Krozite blood. You've got hair, you got knees that bend like so, and you can't roll into a ball," notes the prince. "I can buy that. All right, then. We can trade, and you can kill a few mysteries while you're in the area."

"That's what people keep telling me." Willow taps her nose as she tries to think of anything else. "Does the name 'Dagh' mean anything to you?"

"Yeah," says the prince. "It's the kind of word that in most places you don't say around little kids … " He glances at the little rat. "… and in Dack country, you'd best not use as a curse word, or they might take grave offense."

"My apologies, and I'll remember your advice if I end up going through there." The Skreek's hand nervously itches at the black markings under her eye. "I don't suppose you have a library here I could look through? Otherwise I'll leave the trunk here for you to look through later, and my companions and I can leave you to the ring."

"Well, I'd be inclined to see whether or not you trash the room you stay in tonight before I let a total stranger go through the books. But you actually sound like you've got half a brain, so … why not?" The Prince shrugs. "And what's with those marks under your eye? That isn't contagious, is it?"

"You might call it a birthmark; and no, it's not contagious at all," Willow answers. ( Actually I always thought of it as a RE-birth-mark… but now I'm not sure anymore. )

"Eh … yeah … You're not one of the mountain folk, are you? No, you can actually speak in whole sentences. They tend to have strange marks … and weirder things. Comes from living too close to Bosch, you know," mutters the rat Prince.

The female Skreek blinks. "I'd never even heard of mountain folk until now. Who are they?"

"Freaks who live up north. Part of Kroz is mountains, you know," the rat Prince says in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.

"Whose lands do they live on? Or are they in Bosch?" Willow asks.

"Bosch!?" sputters the black rat. "Now, anyone who lives in Bosch stays there. Except for the occasional monster scare. No, it's real simple. You see, mountain folk live in mountains. So that means that any one of the northern Principalities – Diamante, Cobalt, Stiletto, Naochi – which happens to have mountains … just might have a few poor fools living in them. The southern Principalities – Darklight, Urban, Silverbirch and Dack – don't share a border with Bosch."

( All of the Skreeks have borders to Bosch, odd. Dack doesn't, but Dack seems to all but own Naochi right now. ) The gray Skreek nods her head. "So what happens to the people that live in the mountains? And why in fires would they choose to live there?"

"Tradition? Very little competition for the land? Who knows? Why do Khattas live in the desert? And no sandbox jokes, please," the rat Prince responds with a shrug. "Anywhere that can be lived in, you're bound to find someone that does live in it – just not precious many up in the mountains."

Willow itches at her eye again. "You wouldn't happen to have any books on the mountain folks, would you?"

"Books?! Who would bother writing about them?" the rat prince balks. "Stick a few in a circus, maybe, but write about them? HAW!"

"I'm sure that there are just as many folks would write books about mountain people as would choose to live in the mountains. I'm sure if I looked hard enough in Gallis, I probably could have found a book about plucking out one's nose-hairs properly." The gray Skreek smirks. "But you sound like you've met one or two in your life. Could you tell me about them?"

"Well, a goodly number of folks write about themselves, and most mountain people can't write, so that … bah … Yes, I've met a few. Wasn't exactly under the most pleasant of circumstances," the Prince says, sinking down into his chair.

"Every once in a while, we get little problems with incursions from Bosch. There are usually signs. Lots of nightmares, strange apparitions, bright lights over the mountain range at night … and the mountain folk tend to come down from the mountains, once things get ugly up there," the prince says. "And, inevitably, a few monsters start popping up. So, that's where the Princes come in. We have to protect the people, right? So it's time to armor up, saddle up, head out and kill some imps."

"Ahhh, so when you see them, you might almost consider it to be a bad omen or such?" Willow drums her fingers against her side. "I can see what you mean about not being the best of circumstances."

"Yes … especially when jumpy soldiers can mistake them for imps… " The Prince rests his chin on one hand, brooding. "Little Skreeks that get popped out up there sometimes come out all wrong. I mean, sure, that can happen anywhere. But it's a lot more often up there."

( Maybe that's what it is with me. Maybe some mountain rat caught the name of Tachiri's dead kid, named their funny looking mountain pup after it, and I ended up in Himar. ) The gray Skreek looks down at her legs. "How do you mean 'wrong'?"

"Wrong. I mean, like … born with a couple of wings, or an extra arm, or maybe an extra eye or two. Tachiri had a mistress who … never mind that. Most of the time, the extra bits don't work anyway. Or else you come out in odd colors, or markings, or your face is twisted a little wrong, or your jaw sticks out too far … you know … mutated." The rat Prince shrugs, then notices Willow looking down at her legs, and he looks, too. "Huh?"

Willow's head shoots up, her ears turning slightly pink. "Sorry, I'd just always figured that's what had happened to me. I'd always assumed I was born in Himar and came out a little wrong. I've been hearing all sorts of stories like how the snicjers only attack Krozites or that I 'have Krozite ancestry in my blood' but besides having different looking legs and a mop of hair on my head I can't see what could prove it." She coughs. "Tachiri had a mistress?"

"Different looking legs? They look fine to … Well, look!" The rat Prince crosses his own quite plantigrade legs. "You must have been raised in Rephidim, huh? And … yeah, he had a few. Didn't last very long, since they could always leave when he started slapping them around."

"Nope. Left Himar at age ten and spent the next ten years from port to port on an airship. I lived in Rephidim for a bit after that, but I've always ended back up in airship work." Willow shrugs.

"Himar, then," corrects the rat Prince. "Anyway, out there, these kind of legs are freakish, yes, yes, I know all about that. Here, it's normal. Frankly, it's a lot better for giving someone a swift kick in the tail, too."

The gray Skreek smirks a little. "That part I've noticed. Either way, do you have some way of determining if someone is Krozite or not? What happens if some kook from Himar decides to claim he's royalty or such?"

"Well, for starters," says the rat Prince, "there are a number of ways to rule him out. If he claimed to be from the line of Cobalt, for instance, and he was white-furred … well … DUH." The prince points at his black fur. "And having jack-legs would rule him out of the contest as well – unless he were a Cervani and claiming to be of House Diamante, that is. And even if he looked the part, that might help determine whether he might be from Kroz … but not everyone in Kroz is royalty, or else we'd have a lot more castles, eh?"

Willow chews on her lip a bit more. "I suppose so. But besides hair and straight legs, there's no way to tell for sure?" ( Like if one of Tachiri's daughters happened to be alive and popped up at the castle one day… )

The Prince shrugs. "Well, knowing family secrets that nobody else should know … uh … identifying birthmarks? … Having the right hair color and fur color and eye color and all that, to match who you claimed to be … Hmm … I suppose a Life Mage could probably help." He raises an eyebrow. "Why do you ask? Sayyyyy … all this family tree stuff, asking all these questions and all that … You aren't some sort of gold-digger, are you?"

"No." Willow's ears flatten. "I'm scr – er… very proud if the fact that I earn what I make with hard work. I should point out that if I were a gold digger, I could have sold that little ring I just gave you or tried to get you to buy it from me."

"Oh, come on … You're a trader. A merchant doesn't give gifts unless he thinks he's going to make the value of that gift back and then some in profits." The rat Prince turns the ring over in his hand again. "Hmm."

"Think whatever you want then. I don't particularly see some lumber and cloth and such to be equal value, and if you saw my ship, you'd probably not think of us as the types who throw gold rings around as presents to endear ourselves to folks." Willow folds her arms. "Truth be told, my captain doesn't even know about the ring, and I have no intentions of mentioning it to him. My only great hope in doing business with you is that it means my cap won't make me try Castle Urban next."

The black rat runs his hand over his face, snorting at the mention of Castle Urban. "What I mean is that if you're trying to get in good in order to set yourself up to … " He blinks. "Say … just what sort of royalty might you be interested in identifying, anyway? I mean, do you have a specific case in mind? A particular family, maybe?"

"Twenty-eight years ago, a little Skreek girl supposedly died at birth in the Naochi house. All I want to find out is what happened to her. Nobody saw a body, and I'd like to find out exactly what happened in that birth chamber, and I'm willing to have a screaming match with the ghosts of Tachiri and Ria to do it." Willow folds her arms again, her eyes flashing angrily.

"Naochi, eh? Yeah … All right, so you've got a grudge about the four little pups dying. Yeah … yeah, that's pretty cold." The Prince looks across the room at his son still playing with the wind-up Korv. "But you say 'supposedly', eh? Now that's a twist."

Willow shakes her head. "You said you wouldn't put it past Tachiri to kill his own children. You think he'd blink at handing them over to someone else to ditch or do something with in return for a favor? Look, I don't know what happened, and all I've got are theories spun from rumors and opinions. It's why I want to know the truth about what happened. Kiri can keep his castle and his debt with Dack, but I want to find out what happened in that birthing room." She shakes her head. "I think only two people who saw the children are alive now. That nut Absalom and butler Rezhinald, which is why I want to find out who I can talk to and who I can't."

"Well, if you think you can pry any family secrets out of Rezhinald, I doubt you'd accomplish much that way. He's pretty loyal to the family … got to be, staying on with that little hedonist Kiri, with the whole house falling down about his ears," the rat Prince grumbles. "And Absalom … certified lunatic, I figure. Can't figure out just what exactly he did at any of the births, unless they gave him the honor of twisting the ne – " He pauses, glancing across the room. "Well, he didn't exactly do the job you'd expect a Life Mage to do, now did he?"

"What did you know about Absalom? When I met him, he claimed to be a loyal follower of… er… an inappropriate word to say in front of your son and in the Dack lands." The gray Skreek's eyes drop down.

"Nonono, you've got it wrong," says the rat Prince. "If you say it as a name, then it's okay. But if you use it as a curse … Oh, never mind. I never understood how they define what makes a curse word a curse word anyway, myself. Ahem. Anyway, yes, the House of Dack is supposed to be descended from You-Know-Who, long, long ago. Thousands of years ago. Whatever."

"If you have trouble with it, then your son might have even more trouble, and I'll try to save you the trouble of teaching him just yet." Willow sighs. "Did you ever see anyone Absalom ever performed magic on? Or did he seem to take any kind of interest in particular types of magic?"

"In any case, Absalom struck me as … ah … a few steps left of reality. Of course, part of that could be simply because he's a mage." The rat Prince shrugs. "But he just seemed a little … oh … too much like, 'I know something you don't know, you PATHETIC MORTAL FOOL!' You know what I mean? So far as I knew, he was a Life Mage. You know … a healer. Who knows what else he did on the side?"

"Sounds like he hasn't changed much, although I'm not sure if he was doing any magic when I saw him. Maybe he'd taken an apprentice." The lady Skreek taps her foot as she ponders. "You know why he left the lands of Dack?"

The rat Prince shrugs yet again. "All sorts of stories about that. One is that Absalom must have botched the first four births, and then Ria died in childbirth, and that was the last straw, so Absalom fled for his life. Another story would be that Tachiri didn't need Absalom any longer because he had his male heir. I'd think the latter to be partially true, but I'd make a guess that Tachiri wanted to silence Absalom, in case the mage might blab something about the deaths of the four daughters. As if anyone with a bit of sense couldn't figure out something was amiss already."

"But he didn't seem too concerned about it either. You'd think that someone who killed four girls would have been a bit more cautious. I'd been told that he didn't seem the slightest bit shaken even when his wife died." Willow glares at the foot of the Prince's throne.

"Well, Tachiri's dead – in a 'hunting accident'. And poor little Kiri got the throne afterwards. What goes around comes around, eh?" The Prince rat takes a swig of ale.

"You don't sound entirely convinced that it was an accident," Willow notes.

"Why should I?" asks the rat prince. " This is the Naochi family we're talking about. So many suspicious accidents … Why, if Kiri were struck by lightning, I'd start suspecting that he had an Air Mage for a jilted mistress or something."

The lady Skreek scratches at her eye again. "Does this bad luck legacy go farther back than Tachiri and Ria?"

"Oh, gods yes. Makes me glad I live on the west side," the rat Prince says, sloshing around a bit of his drink. "I don't think any Naochi has died of old age for … uh … a long time."

( Another layer. ) Willow nods. "I don't suppose you have a list of obituaries in your library, do you?"

"Sure. Have at it!" The rat Prince pulls the chain again, and some Kavi attendants come in. "Show the lady to the library, would you? And get me … uh … well, that's enough for me. When's lunch?"

"Thanks for your time, Prince Cobalt. Tomorrow we can talk about more mundane things, like if your interests lie in yorspice or ale or perfume." The Skreek bows, grabs Burr's tail to yank him along after her, and heads off after the Kavi.