Olive shoved Luna into the bathroom and pulled the door shut behind them. The room was narrow, the air close, their skin chafing, warm and cold. The waxy girl's flesh was frigid, prising out a shudder as Olive nestled near, trying to put aside the bristling realization that her head was at chest level. No! Bad! Priorities!

  The Porcene's expression was hunted, bloodless. Luna's was blank, vaguely bemused.

  "Why don't you tell them?" Luna asked, head tilted to a side. "I doubt they'll confine you. Probably..."

  "'Probably'?!" Olive gnashed her teeth, one head against the bathroom door, listening for interlopers. Why did the airy one have to read minds?!

  "A question I ask the world every day." Luna sighed, a hand on her chest. "Nothing's answered me, yet. It's just the way I 'cracked', I guess."

  "You're about to get your skull cracked if you go telling anybody!" Olive warned, scrunching up her face. "I know enough about the world to understand that, if there's something unique or special about you, its people will twist themselves into knots trying to choke whatever it is out." She wrinkled her snout, watching Luna from the corner of her eye. "If I tell them where I came from, maybe they'll do nothing. Or, maybe they'll tell someone powerful for a bit of spending money, sell my soul for a few month's rent. Maybe I'll end up with a scalpel in my brain, poking at my limbic system!" She bit off, curling her hands into fists. "I don't want anyone in my brain! And that includes you!"

  Luna pressed her lips, her head angling away as Olive finished. "I-I told you, it's not my choice!" she said, her mouth curling. "I can't stop it, the faucet is always open, no matter what I shove inside it!" Her breath came fast and heavy. "B-but like I promised, I won't tell anyone else anything I hear out of you! Not an oink!" She flushed, the chill of her skin tempering slightly as Olive's nose creased. "Th-that just slipped out. Sorry. Bad timing..."

  Olive's brow quirked, her racing heart skidding to a slow stop. Why was she so angry? It was a breach of privacy, true, but as Luna said, she had no control over it. Assuming she wasn't lying...

  "If I was lying, why would I tell you I can do it?" She offered, to which Olive could only concede with a wry nod.

  Her fists eased open. "Fine." She opened the door, scuttling back into the cellar. "But I'm keeping an eye on you! How did you figure it out, anyway? I don't think I thought about it when I woke up..."

  "No, you didn't." Luna sloped out of the bathroom, ducking her head to avoid the lintel. "It was... in your dream." The words were reluctant, as if clinging to her tongue by claw and foot. She coughed, began to pick at her nails. "A vivid dream."

  Olive's ears warmed. "O-oh..." She yanked at her fingers, turning away. "Do I want to know?"

  "I don't think so." Luna hurried past, toward the ladder. "It was pretty, but... yes, I don't think you'd appreciate the report."

  Please kill me.

  "No."

  Fuck.

  Olive kicked at the clay floor, then cleared her throat, hoping to unsettle the quickly thickening air. Besides, she had pressing questions. "H-how much do you know?"

  "That you're from a world called 'Earth', you are the head of a 'marketing agency', whatever that is, and you have an obsession with 'parking spaces'." She paused, stopping before the ladder. "And women." A fingernail tore as she fretted at it. "And women in parking spaces. Undressed..."

  "Okay, yeah, we can move on from that!" Olive's brow grew sticky with sweat. "But that was it? Nothing else?"

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  "Aside from the fact that every surface was scrawled with 'Olive Farrier, CMO of life!', yes."

  Small miracles, I guess. She certainly didn't want her to know every last detail. The things she'd done, the kind of person she was, not to mention what the world was...

  "Hmm?"

  "Nothing! Just my dumb brain being loud, again!" Olive tittered, off key, rapping her knuckles along her temple.

  Luna leveled her with a cautious look, then shrugged. "Most people are like that, sometimes." She told her, with a shy smile. "Besides, your brain isn't even loud. You're quite quiet, actually. It's very calming."

  "Is that supposed to be an insult or a compliment?" Olive asked, mouth askew, chest tingling.

  Luna shrugged, climbing up. "I'll have to wait and see. In any case, you should hear purple lady. Her head is a coliseum..."

  "What is this?" Olive took the mug, sniffed it, winced at the mingling of yeast, grains, fomentation.

  "Beer." Ylsa told her, bright eyed, taking a seat at the trestle table.

  Olive groaned. "I know it's beer, but... it's the morning. Can't we have some bread, at least?"

  "Beer is just bread that went a longer, more daring way." Ylsa raised a finger, spoke with a sage's lilting tone. "Like us. Very appropriate!"

  "Some of us haven't committed to your little crusade yet, sweetling," Sianna said, lowly, voice back to its refined gleam, head nested in crossed arms. Olive took a seat at her side, laying her mug on the crude drawings chiselled there. Sianna raised her head, a subtle smile showing. "We'll need some... assurances, first."

  "I-I'd like assurances..." Luna squeaked from down the racks, tapping her fingers against her pewter tankard. "I-if that's possible..." And back to meek and mousy. That's fine by me.

  "I wouldn't mind 'em." Bristle shrugged, gulping down his brew. "But I'm in either way."

  "Why?" Sianna asked. lifting her head, hair a tangled mess around her face. "She hasn't told us anything."

  "She did us a kindness," he said, wiping his dripping muzzle. "I believe in the concept of 'reciprocity'. Deed for deed, goods for goods." He turned his sharp eyes to Olive. "They have that in America, right?"

  "Officially, yes, actually, no." If you weren't screwing someone over, you were in the wrong country.

  "That's sad..." She heard Luna mumble.

  Bristle snorted. "As you say, I wasn't there. But where I come from, if someone does you good, you give them good!"

  "Don't you think her timing was suspicious? That her appearance was odd? That her choice to bring us here was a touch over-generous?" Sianna's ears cocked. "I put a moratorium on my concerns last night, seeing as I wanted to slip the noose, but it's a new day. And if you expect this to bloom into a partnership, I expect some transparency, for the sake of all of us present."

  Ylsa chewed on her words, crossing her legs, arranging her thoughts. "You're right," she said, at length, "it was convenient, wasn't it?"

  Sianna's fur bristled. "Meaning?"

  "Meaning I was scoping that jail for prospects." Ylsa leaned forward, stole Olive's mug, took a sip. "I made a few runes, some months ago. Nothing serious, or anything substantial enough to be caught in a sweep, but enough to keep a vigil. I'd take a peek every now and then, to see if I could find any promising candidates to break out. Some were plausible, but unmotivated. Others were motivated, but implausible. And most in between taught me a great deal about the body, the sounds it could make, and all the exciting things that could leak out of it!" She simpered, inverting the tankard, downing it all in one, guttural glug. A quiet belch sounded, and Sianna scrunched her nose. "Any more questions?"

  It seemed feasible. Something an eccentric with too much time on their hands would do. But it didn't fit snugly. There were a few jagged pieces, and some were missing entirely.

  "But... why?" Olive asked, staring at the empty tankard. College me would have killed for her. Fuck, give me another cup and I might make a vow. "Wh-why go through all that trouble, instead of hiring adventurers or a company?"

  "Because, like I said, this job is insane, and they all either rebuffed me or laughed in my face." She harrumphed, thumbing her nose. "Which is one reason I needed less... judgemental candidates. Candidates who, I don't know, have bounties on their heads?" She turned to Sianna, violet eyes stirring. "Who might have committed a spot of murder, and who could stand to rewrite reality, a smidge?" Olive's stomach churned, bile sloshing, burning her throat. She shook her head, banishing cloudy eyes. No choice. No choice...

  Sianna snorted, her tail lashing. "So, blackmail, is it?"

  "Sort of, but not really." Ylsa held up her hands in a pacific motion. "I needed a stick to sweeten the carrot. The carrot being untold wealth, and a chance to clean the slate. My contact says this dagger can alter facts of reality, and--"

  "Then why have I never heard of it?" Sianna posed, crossing her arms. "How do we know it even exists?"

  Ylsa smiled, wide enough that Olive felt her hackles rise, snout trembling with dread. "I'm glad you asked." Ylsa leaned forward, elbows on the table as her eyes touched all. Bristle, Luna, lingering on a glaring Sianna, then landing on a gawping Olive. "You want assurances? You want proof?" Her eyes were fiery orbs. "Then you can go see it for yourself."