Follow the Younger Dustwell

You had questions, but your companion is faster:

”What’s a squirmer?” she asks.

You stop, suddenly aware and suddenly afraid. St. Martha’s is quiet at this hour, and the two of you are alone in the dark hallway. You swallow and stumble to prepare an answer.

A sudden scream pierces the nightly silence just as you are about to open your mouth.

A doctor rushes past, flanked by nurses and orderlies. Then another wail joins the chorus, and another, and another. The Younger Dustwell takes your hand and you pull her toward the exit. Their lamentations swallow the sound of your hurried footsteps and follow you out on the street.

”What was that?” she asks when the hubbub of the Barenhaven nightlife finally drowns out the screaming.

You give her her answers, somewhat varnished, and she takes it well – considering.

Her face is paler in the treacherous light of Leviathan Lanterns and Liar Stars. She still holds fast to your hand, and subtle shakes run along her arms. Her lips move to form a common prayer, and {if The Almost Bishop of Anceleisle = 1} you join her despite yourself. {elseif A Heretic = 1} you whisper an actually useful incantation under your breath. {elseif An Occultist = 1} you whisper an actually useful incantation under your breath. {else} you join her. {endif}

”Is she safe?”

You give her your best reassurance. The One-Eyed Captain is alone in her room, and the squirmers are weak on land. Weaker. There are doctors inside, and their helpers. The hospital employs a priest for sure{if A Heretic = 1} – for what little good that will do. {elseif An Occultist = 1} – even if that will not be enough. {elseif The Almost Bishop of Anceleisle = 1}, and you too recite the Five Warnings of St. Beate.{else}, and his prayers are sure to ward her rest. {endif}

{if A Heretic = 1} You will find a tree for her instead. {elseif An Occultist = 1} And so you search for a tree instead. {else} Still, you search for a tree. {endif}

A gnarled Barkrind, its trunk yellowed by the Barenhaven dark, survives in the garden behind a Greenish restaurant. You pluck a dry, brown leaf and draw your knife. The first cut draws reddish sap. {if A Heretic = 1} You draw the whore Althea, the so-called Saint {if Connected: The Starry Eyed > 0}, as you saw her in Corpser’s Point. {else}. {endif} The chains around her ankles, wrists and neck tie her to an abstracted herd of four ferocious cats. {elseif An Occultist = 1} You draw the sainted Althea {if Connected: The Starry Eyed > 0}, as you saw her in Corpser’s Point. {else}. {endif} The chains around her ankles, wrists and neck tie her to an abstracted herd of four ferocious cats. {elseif Feysilvered Lenses > 1} You draw five cats and the cruel chains that bind them together. {else} You draw a cat’s face, whiskers and all. {endif}

The Younger Dustwell watches you with clear confusion but turns away when you ask her to. She gasps at the sound of your stream hitting the wood, and you catch her stealing a glance at your hardening cock. Your attempts to shake off the last drops do not help, and your companion smirks at your obvious bulge and awkward gait.

Behind you, the Barkrind {if Feysilvered Lenses > 1} cats weep {else} cat weeps {endif} red and yellow tears.

”Are you done?”