Some houses are stacked on a sounder foundation than others. I had a few growing up, shared with thieves, vandals, and vermin. The vermin made for good fun - though now that I consider it, the thieves and vandals made for good fun too. My houses were stacked on top of my mum. Mum has a good head on her shoulders but she was given a bad hand and no foundation to stand on. She had to make her own way and then help me make mine. I hope that Shoreline has a sound foundation.

The Pangol family seems to fit that mold. On the way back to Malkara, J and Julia spun some tales about their times at the inn and some of the trouble they’ve gotten themselves into. I was happy that we could help out Julia with not dying. That was good. They think of things in the right way, the traveler’s way, where each corner turned can lead to new adventure. I like that in people and know that I’ll do good by them as we continue with our task.

Dorian keeps bugging Julia about the box this, and secrets that. Secrets are not meant to be unraveled, and I don’t see any reason to open that thing up. Dorian snorts on occasion and kicks dust from the path on occasion, but I don’t understand exactly what they’re talking about. Seems like another golem is in the city of Malkara, but I’ve not seen it. Was a wizard rave with nobles and other snooty types. I think that was the night I checked in on Jeremiah chewing on an unplucked chicken - a mess of fluff and blood exploding from his mouth when I caught him in the act. An aberration, yes. But they seem mighty worried and I figure out why too - that box thing is its heart. More than that, it’s the type of heart that keeps beating without a body. Put that thing into a new body, and you give it a new heartbeat. That golem breathed green flame hot enough to sear the hair of my arms - I wouldn’t want something that like to be in a city. But we made a promise to protect a person. There’s no other choice.

Lucien the git is right where we think he’d be when we arrive back at Malkara - he’s in his stupid bookshop. I stay back and try not to get too close this time because of some encouragement by the others. The reasoning has something to do with me punching him in the face again, which apparently the others don’t want. Well if it protects the girl and helps us get to her safely, I won’t clock him. Lucien and Dorian make some small talk and then exchange the box, with the Grue’s eyes scanning quickly over it. His face is stony and unimpressed, then he just tosses it in the bin! We worked hard to get that thing, and he didn’t care in the slightest! I felt the tide rising inside me and started to shake a bit, but I calmed that storm for the sake of the others. We can’t save the girl if he’s dead. I tell myself this a few more times. We can’t save the girl if he’s dead. Lucien gives Dorian a shipping manifest from one of the drydocks, pointed to some of the contents. A box, nondescript. It will have her inside. Save the girl. And then he’s dead.

I scan the document and run to the coast with Dorian huffing behind. He still seems to be stiff from the encounter with the gnolls - I wonder if Nurzhan could give him strength? Vani and Bird Girl stay around Lucien’s shop to sneak around. I barge into the warehouse and dart for the box, ripping it open. Inside is the girl. She doesn’t move for a moment. I bite my tongue and dive down to check on her. She reacts. She’s alive. I think I frightened her a bit as she jumps back when I try to hug her. Her guard is up but she’s weak. How many days without food or drink did she suffer through? Three? Four? Those questions pierce me as Dorian checks in on her and sees about how this happened.

The girl doesn’t trust us - she doesn’t trust me. She looked at me with the coldest eyes I’ve seen - like I wasn’t worth nothing. It’s the same look that the wizards back home gave us when we were young. But she’s like me. I don’t understand why! I’m protecting her and keeping her safe. She would have died without me. Maybe she almost died because of me. She looks at me with cold eyes again, but I can only resolve myself to give her time. She at least gives me her name: Eurydice. It’s a pretty name for a beautiful person.

Dorian finishes his questioning and we meet again with the group, but it’s a bit of a struggle tracking down where they’ve went off to. Malkara’s a big city with lots of twists and turns throughout. Seems they’ve twisted themselves into quite the knot. We approach their destination - a noble’s estate owned by the house Dega. Haven’t heard of them. Dorian squirms a bit in his skin when we first figure that part out. What kind of history does he have with them?

An army of poncey slaves scurries around. There are guards in polished armour, wound up like tin toys. Servants in matching dresses dance around the hemed grass. A stiff breeze sends a few hairpieces off into the sky and I hear the wails of the coddled elite.

“I am out of my element.” I say to Dorian. He nods and I see a glimmer of that part of him that I saw at the tower - defiant, rebellious, an ally not only in name but in heart too. He scouts again and leaves Bird Girl and I to figure out our own way in. Her eye glimmers too, and then her whole self glimmers.

She erupts into feverish dance, moving strands of colour and shaping wind within and around her. She shows me something hypnotic; I can’t look away. Her plumage cuts a living tapestry of curves around her, and her magic begins to attract some of the house attendants. When enough come to admire the performance, she stops abruptly.

“We are a gift by request of lady Victoria, from Early Dusk.” The name sounds familiar to me. I’ve heard it from many young and old sailors in my days. Most were men. Most spoke shyly of the term, like it betrayed a hidden secret. “We are here to audition for the next party.”

Bird Girl’s voice is commanding and clear, like a Rilador captain’s. I don’t hear her speak like this much. In fact, I don’t think I’ve heard her speak like this at all. The tower was like looking into another shard of a crystal when hearing her - this was like looking into a whole new thing! She reminded me of, well - a noble.

“Uh, you’re not, not on the list.” A plump little one stammers, leafing through rough papers. She is young and small and tries to look like she’s old and tall, but I can see that she’s not. I crack a smile, but hold back my laughter. Bird Girl glares at her for a second,

“I don’t want to be kept waiting. This should have been on the list. Lady Victoria assured me that I would be on the list.” The young girl has fear in her eyes. We go inside.

I keep my eyes on the girl as we wind through this red and gold maze that’s called the house of Dega. Lots of corners to turn and gleaming things abound - treasures, trinkets, and a big crew that maintains the great big thing. Bird Girl holds her head high and looks through her surroundings with confidence. She looks beautiful in this environment and I wonder if this is who she really is. No. We aren’t what we surround ourselves with. We aren’t objects. We are ourselves.

After some more corners we make our way to a bigger room - one with a great metal thing inside. This looks familiar - oh, yes! This is like the golem that breathed green fire on us and that Dorian was hanging off of. Why is a violent thing like that in a place like this? Bird Girl is familiar with this contraption and continues her pursuit of the Lady Victoria. I start to pry in other matters.

This girl in front of me needs a good story. The nobles and wizards don’t have any. It’s all about big lofty things like good against evil, or magic against the mundane. Real stories aren’t like that. She itches and scratches her head while everyone else speaks about court and country, and she deserves more courtesy than that. After we finish up in the parlour room, I give her my name. Then I give her my story. Not all of what I say is true. But some of the true things are stranger than the untrue parts. I talk about Volos and young love, and Isard. I tell her of powerful beings tied to the land that etch influence in it like carving soapstone. I tell her about my favourite music and my favourite things to put into my hair. Then I tell her about my family.