Path murmurs, "Can he hear us?"

"No," whispers Vern. "He's going to be reading that for another hour or so, I think if it started raining he wouldn't notice."

"Okay." Path shuffles closer to her. "It's probably really obvious but we like you and we're convinced she won't get daggery, now."

She giggles, a little. "It is extremely obvious, and we are charmed."

"So now she is pretty sure it is safe for her to do anything ever about that, but doesn't know what he wants her to do."

"He doesn't know either. He hasn't - been in this sort of situation, before. My Adarin likes her, he likes her so much and wants to keep having days like this where she's just there, but he's so used to anything of this kind being some kind of manipulation that he doesn't know how to not be on the defensive."

"That's sad. My Isabella is used to being careful and nervous but it went away when the reason went away."

"He's trying - she helps, she honestly helps so much. He respects her for having such a good reason to be careful and then sticking to it. It makes him want to not be on the defensive but I don't think he knows how."

"My Isabella talks to me until we know all the parts of ourselves, and how they work, and what to move to make the rest of it move, how we want. If this was her I'd know what to ask. I don't know what to ask about him."

"Sorry," apologizes Vern. "He will probably feel guilty about not being able to go as fast as she likes. He wants to make her happy, but... Slow's all he can do, right now."

"It's okay." Nuzzle. "Don't be sorry."

Nuzzle, nuzzle. "Okay. We'll try."

"I'll tell her she should wait for him to do something. Will that work?"

"I think so. He needed to know that she wasn't going to - go crazy witch, too, that if he tried anything he risked losing her as a friend. I'll tell him that she won't and that it's okay if he wants to do something. I do think she'll have to wait, but I don't think she'll have to wait long."

"Okay. She likes him enough to wait. We like you so much."

Nuzzle. "We like you so much, too. So much that it's worth trying, even if we're scared."

Wingsnugglings!

Wingsnugglings are returned! "We're so glad it's you," murmurs Vern, in cuddles.

"We're so glad you landed near us. We could have missed you or you could have gone somewhere else and it would be so much worse and we wouldn't even know to miss you."

"We're here. It's okay, we landed near you and since he spelled a mirror you don't have to worry about accidentally misplacing us. Besides, he knows how to bring us back, and we will come back."

"Yes. We think we should be near each other most of the time even if it involves lots of world-moving."

"We agree. My Adarin has considered buying your Isabella a house in New Kystle, just so she can feel welcome."

"Not at all," agrees Path, amused. It's okay. Serious daemon talk can be over. He gives Vernaia another nuzzle, and trills again, and then takes off to report to his witch.

Vernaia trills a goodbye, then goes to report to her mortal. The science book is far less interesting, in comparison.

"Of course I will," soothes Path.

"It depends. Do you want to watch him go? If you don't, there's the basement. If you do, the north bedroom."

"Basement. Watching would make it worse, I think."

Path hoots acquiescence. "Whichever you like. The basement is fine. Is he going to walk it or does he want Isabella to fly him away?"

"He doesn't want anyone there while he goes. If Isabella flew him, he worries that she'll feel bad for putting us through that. He also - he doesn't like people being there when he's hurting. Because he wants to be strong enough to go on despite it."

Path hoots again. "Witches go on foot. And we watch them go. I sat with Castarilan, Ranata's daemon, and tried not to fling myself against the border of the wasteland where daemons can't go. So he can do it the same way, with the basement door instead."

She nods. "Then - I don't think there's ever going to be a time when we're truly ready. But we've meandered around it enough."

Path snuggles Vernaia as snugly as possible.

"He'll come back he'll come back it's not forever it's okay," says Path, rapid and low, snuggling her warm and feathery.

"Do you want a ride?" Isabella asks him in the mirror. "It sounds like she's not mad at you - sometimes they're mad but she just wants you back."

"A ride would be fantastic," he says. "I have no idea where I am."

"I'll patch you up, but first let's get you back to Vern." When he's on the branch, up and back they go.

"Thank you." Onto the branch, then a very fast walk to the basement and to Vernaia. "She's alright? You're sure?"

"Unharmed, not happy, but not inclined to avoid you for a week either, which has been known to happen."

He winces. "Alright, thank you. I don't know what I'd do if she wanted to avoid me."

"They always come back eventually." Here is the house. She lands.

"I couldn't not," Path points out reasonably.

"You're welcome," says Path, fluttering to sit on Isabella's arm.

He startles a little at having herbs flung at him, but once the effect takes hold he smiles. "I owe you a hug, at some time in the future."

"I'll wait to collect until some more appropriate moment."

That's good. Isabella goes and puts her unused portion of this spice back in her kit.

Comfortable silence passes for a little while, until Adarin asks, "So, I'm willing to have a house built for you in New Kystle - is this the kind of thing you'd want, or...?"

She looks up. "I hadn't actually given much thought to where I'd be staying during my visit. If you want to give me a house - and this isn't a woeful misallocation of resources, given that I will be perfectly comfortable hammocking under my cloud-pine in midair on the nightside of the planet every night - then sure."

"I mostly just want to, if I'm perfectly honest," he says a little sheepishly. "And you wouldn't be able to stay there during your first visit, they take time to be built. But I thought it might be nice."

"It's reasonable to anticipate that I'll be in and out often enough that it'd see use, anyway. Where did you have in mind for the first visit? Crashing on your couch? The hammock thing?"

"Whichever you prefer. I do have a few spare rooms, but if the hammock's more comfy I won't make faces at you for ignoring the perfectly functional extra beds."

"Well, I do have a fondness for not being hailed on, even if the cold per se is untroubling."

"Not being hailed on, you say? Well, that just ruins all of my plans."

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry to disappoint. I really should have said earlier."

"It's alright, you'll just have to sleep in the shed, or something. Do I have a shed? I don't have a shed. Touch luck, I suppose."

"If you actually want to stash me in a shed, I won't complain much, you know. But building one just to put me there would probably be silly."

He snickers. "Nonsense! It wouldn't be silly at all. I would label it, 'Isabella's shed, beware of good sense.' Everyone would leave you alone."

"Good sense is that terrifying in New Kystle? You must part crowds of screaming pedestrians wherever you go."

The snickering turns to giggles. "I also get mothers who hide their children for fear that it'll spread like a plague. Don't forget that, that's my favorite part."

"Oh gosh, are you contagious, that would be great, come wander around densely populated cities with me for a year."

"I wish I were, but unfortunately, no. To my everlasting shame."

"Alas."

"Indeed. Sensible people everywhere will mark this day as a day of shame. The day when it was learned good sense isn't contagious."

"Somehow, as a collective, we will find a way to move on from this tragic discovery."

"Somehow! If we harden our hearts and give out sensible brochures giving detailed information on how great being sensible is."

"...I am now imagining sense missionaries."

Adarin tries to formulate some kind of response, but then he's overcome by laughter and can't manage it. Vern is looking at him with amusement.

Isabella laughs too.

"Would - would they have hymns?" he manages, between giggles. "Long preaches about - about the heroes of good sense, doing the smart thing and not being stupid?"

"Hymns and -" (giggle) "churches and dry scriptures that read like instruction manuals or logic textbooks, and extremely sober holidays."

Adarin's lost to the laughter, again. There might be no saving him. He's just doomed to laugh forever, now.

He will have company!

It takes Adarin a while to recover, but eventually he starts to. He doesn't try to talk, he just focuses on breathing, occasionally giggling in between breaths.

"It matters only a moderate amount what you say!" cackles Isabella. "I will search for concrete material evidence beyond your motivated testimony before making my final judgment! And then it will be reviewed by people with more emotional distance from your case! Bwahahahahah!"

"If you fail, they'll - they'll write a sensible and clear outline on what you need to work on and how to improve! With well-labeled and colored highlighting!"

"And incentives and a twenty-four hour support service available in an appropriate number of languages."

"I try, I try. You are the best company I've had in a long time."

Isabella's eyebrow creeps up a little higher.

Path swoops down on her. Wingsnuggles!

Yay! Wingsnuggles!

Yay!

Isabella's on the roof with alethiometer, thingamajigs, and notebook.

She peers over the edge of the roof, grabs her cloudpine, and swoops down. "You heading home?" she asks.

"Yeah. I thought I should say goodbye, first."

"Of course." She holds out her arms for a hug. "You'll mirror at me, won't you?"

Snugglehug. "Good. And it's, remind me roughly how long till you can make the portal?"

"Three, four days. You won't be missing much, just me telling the twits that call themselves nobles to calm down and maybe untangle some plots before you get there."

"I will want to hear all about the plots!"

He grins. "I'll tell you what they are."

"Awesome. And then you will make the portal and I shall come hang out."

"Possibly literally, since you do have a hammock on your cloudpine."

"I'll see you in a few days," she says. That is a thing to say.

"Bananas foster. A friendship bracelet. Your bed."

"Nope, on three accounts! Care to try again?"

"What do I get if I win? Do I get to come visit you?"

"You do!" he says, brightly.

"Oooh. I guess... a portal!"

"No, no, of course not, it was a - okay I can't do that to you with a clear conscience. Yes, you're right."

She grins. "Okay. I just fly on through? Nobody's scoping out the location or anything?"

"I put it in a place no one's scoping out, so you're free to just fly through. Mind the drop, I put the portal on a cliff."

He snickers. "I'm fine. The fluffy coat is more than just for looks."

"It makes you look ridiculous." She alights on the cliff, dismounts, and flops on his fluff. "It's soft, though."

"And it's perfectly witch-friendly. How far are we from where you live?"

"Reasonably far. Several hours by cloudpine."

"All right. Should we go now or do you need to brief me on a bunch of things first? Or cast the translation spell on me, for that matter."

"Hmm... Translation spell, then I brief you in my language so you can get used to it?"

"Sure."

He grins. <"I'm very proud of my spell. Translation spell based capitalism I'm all for, as well.">

<"This is a beautifully designed bit of assistive magic. Okay. Briefing?">

<"Thank you! Let's see. Some people will want to know where you're from, you can be as honest about it as you like or completely unhelpful, it doesn't matter to me. Don't accept any invitations without letting me know, first, some people would try to corner you about something or do something terrible. I would have to break things and that would annoy me. If anyone gives you trouble, give them my name and say you're a friend, and they should back off.">

<"Okay. If they don't?">

<"Then you have my permission to do whatever you deem necessary to get them to back off. Try not to kill anyone, but I trust your judgement."

<"Right. I will try to avoid killing them, yes.">

He smiles. <"I think that's about it, the details I can tell you as we go. Would it help if I gave you a list of the people that have been particularly unhelpful or have tried to drug me?">

<"Couldn't hurt."> She pulls out a notebook, notes that the spell does literacy just as nicely, and adds, <"I might start taking notes in this language just to confound anybody from back home who finds my books.">

<"Sure. It works with other languages, too, so if there's one you know that's really obscure, that might be a better idea. This spell was designed with potential infiltration in mind, I had no idea what your language actually was,"> he explains. <"Anyone under the spell would be able to read it, but obviously I'm not going to. Invasion of privacy, also jerk move.">

"Okay, maybe I'll write in some dead language that only four people know existed," she says. "And yeah, if I expected you to read my notebooks we would not get along so famously."

"Yes. While I like getting along famously with you, I just don't read people's journals, diaries, and so on without permission anyway. Because I try not to be a jerk."

"Best not-jerk." She nuzzles some fluff, since most of Adarin himself is not accessible right now.

"Oh, you're probably other things, too. An entire list of them."

He snickers. "Thanks. I do try to be multi-dimension- Oh hell, that was a pun. I am so sorry."

Isabella laughs and hugs his fluffy, fluffy coat.

"It's soft! This is a virtue in a coat. Which way am I going?"

He snickers, nods, and then gives directions! They're wonderfully straight-forward.

Isabella lands in front of his house. "This," she says, "is a cute house."

"...Is the boop functional or for decoration, and will I be able to enter this house without you accompanying me?"

"Functional! It amuses me. And no, not unless I messed with it and gave you access, but you'd be able to leave just fine."

"Okay, noted. How long till somebody notices I'm here? Was I announced?"

She gives a little mockery of a curtsey and steps in, looking around.

"I like the lighting spell," Isabella says. "I could probably tweak the waxing and waning variants on the light spell I showed you to make something this responsive, but it'd take doing."

"Awwwwww. But how do you meet these helpful witches if you don't need to run chamomile-related errands?"

"No idea. But I've met one, and I like her, so at least I'll get some visits."

"I would totally visit you sometimes even if you were all hermity."

He snickers. "Thank you. That makes me feel better about being a hermit, if it ever occurs."

"Well, I can't say I want to actually encourage it under the circumstances that are, but I would do my best to mitigate its loneliness."

"I'd like to stash the cloud-pine and my bag wherever you're putting me, but after that I'm all set to mingle."

"I would indeed like a tour," she says, extending her hand so that she may be led about.

"That would be great. I'm officially 'not a clan embarrassment' with a dagger, but I do have to be awake to attain even that status..."

"They could get out the window, I imagine, and I don't plan on doing this unless someone sneaks in invisibly, in which case it's their own fault."

He snickers. "Yeah. Let me know if there's anything else that I can do to put you at ease. I will not be insulted at paranoia."

"I will do, but I am out of paranoid ideas for the moment."

"Am I going to hate everyone I meet here who isn't you, Adarin? Are they that bad?"

"I mean, some of them are entirely inoffensive, but I don't particularly like any of them. The trouble is that in inviting any of them, even the inoffensive ones, it means that if I want to not make a bigger target of myself I need to invite even the people I actually dislike."

"Ah. No carefully curated just-friends dinner parties. Do you want me to stand next to you the entire time and engage the terrible people who I haven't yet had the chance to become thoroughly sick of, for you?"

Adarin smiles, affectionately. "No thanks, but thank you. I've put up with it this long. I just put up a..." he uses a loanword from English, "Poker face and suffer through it."

"Okay. How do you go about convening this party-of-sorts?"

"Mostly by paying other people to go tell them. I know some people that are happy to, so, not a problem."

"Does the whole thing take very long - are we talking 'sit up here for a while brushing up on the list of troublemakers' or 'loiter for three minutes in the front room'?"

"I wouldn't have minded walking into a schedule, for what it's worth - and you could've cleared it with me by mirror - but this works too, I'm not in a hurry."

"Yeah, not an instantaneous selection. I wonder how much to worry about the fact that importing intellectual resources from Earth will deluge your population in English. I mean, short term gains, yes, but also language extinction is kind of sad. I'm divided on whether I care about what passes for culture, from what cynical musings I've heard on the subject."

Adarin thinks for a little bit. "I'm... Not sure. Between the options of literacy versus keeping a language - I mean, honestly between the two I sort people above a language, even an entire culture. So I suppose I'm more sure, now."

"And the language will always be retrievable by spell, anyway, won't it. So yeah, probably not a huge priority, bring on Teach For New Kystle programs in a couple years."

He nods. "Yeah. And clever uses for portals, if applicable. I'm pretty sure that once Earth knows about other planes, then there will be several who would be willing to set up internet access, or something."

"Oh yeah. Earth is very good at profit motive, and the profit motive can be set up. Earth is not very good at restraining profit motive, which is what keeping a stranglehold on the bottleneck between worlds is for, if someone errs too far on the side of exploitation they can kiss their whole enterprise goodbye. Maybe make a rule that any business operation conducted in New Kystle consents to panopticon scrying."

Grin. "Yeah, that can work. Especially considering I'm one of two people that can build a multi-planar portal on my own. So, I am in a good position for a stranglehold on a bottleneck. I think I should probably bring in - multiple nations, not just the one. With a translation spell it doesn't really matter which country I recruit from, they'll all be able to just talk to each other. So I can make sure that New Kystle is its own thing and not just United States of America, tide-locked and magic edition."

"It's probably worth being selective about which countries. Some of them have more open interest in colonialism than the United States - well, the modern-day United States - has, and while you want to have the threat to shut down a portal, actually using it would be a waste. Off the top of my head, but I'd want to do more research to be sure, Japan and maybe Singapore float to the top of the non-English-speaking countries for economic-not-for-example-military interests."

"Right. I wasn't going to just... Let any businesses ever through, I was going to be very careful. There will be studying of Wikipedia, I think. A lot."

"Yes. All hail Wikipedia. Our Wiki who art in Heaven. You may kiss the bride."

Adarin laughs. "All hail Wikipedia, though for the website-based kisses - no thanks. Facetious marriage only, I'd rather not be married to a website, amazing though it is."

"Should I stop teasing you about marrying it, then?"

"You are entirely free to tease me about whatever you like," says Adarin in the least helpful manner possible.

"Hmm," he says, speculatively. "Yes? Tentative yes? Why, are you plotting something?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Alright. I'll trust that for whatever it is your priorities will be in order and it won't screw up any of my plots for New Kystle restoration project."

"You're very trusting. Well, of me, anyway, I have no reason to fault your paranoia about everybody else."

"To be fair, so far you've earned my trust. I mean, you handed me Wikipedia, and - you had a mage who would do a favor for you and the very first thing you asked if I could do was fix death, not 'omnipotence' or 'make me tons of money' or something. That says a bit of your character, I think. Not to mention you've yet to disprove that first meeting, so if this is a long-term plot to do something in the future, consider me played."

"To be fair, if I had imagined you could do omnipotence you can believe I'd have angled for it."

"Noooo," laughs Isabella, flinging her arms around his neck as though he had made any move to actually leave the room, "do not do that. We have things to do."

"Productive, cooperative things," murmurs Isabella, absently, looking up at him (he's got more than half a foot on her; it's very much up). Not quite all the way to expectant, maybe, but solidly in hopeful.

"Yambe Akka take all the stars and drown them," snaps Isabella, reverting to English in her frustration, "timing, timing..."

"Do you need help with her?" asks Isabella, still in English.

"Oh," says Isabella, "I was given a partial guest list in advance, but I don't have it fully memorized; I was filling in a gap in my information."

"I could just send Path out, away somewhere...? I didn't really grasp till just now how thoroughly people here might not get it; you picked it up quick."

He manages a little tiny smile. "You sounded very serious about it when you told me. I'm also not in the habit of brushing off possible results, even if they sound bizarre. You can send Path away, but be careful where - Lenora's good at teleportation. He might be safer here."

"I'm fine," she replies. "Just spooked. She didn't touch him."

"Mm. Maybe. Is anybody else at all likely...?"

"I wouldn't say so, after that little drama, but if you'd rather not take the chance I don't blame you."

"Are there going to be dreadful social repercussions if you do end it...?"

"Oh no. How dreadful. Stop them. I cannot bear it," says Isabella. "Those weren't the repercussions I meant." She shakes her head. "I'm pretty much recovered, but I can't claim I'll stay that way if anybody makes a second grab, let alone a successful one."

Adarin manages a little smile at her words. "That one thing will have lots of repercussions, you know. But - all right. I'll leave it up to you. You're the one getting introduced, and the one who had a grab attempt."

"What kind of repercussions?" Isabella wonders. She transfers Path from her shoulder to her arms, where he is quite thoroughly shielded and can get more so in a heartbeat's reaction time.

"The usual. People throwing themselves at me on the streets," he says, dryly. "Maybe some attempts to poison you - all of which will fail, by the way."

"I've never been poisoned before. Gosh."

"If it's a thing you want to try then I won't check your food and drink for it, if you prefer?"

She laughs. "No, please do check it. I don't want to have to fly home for Earth food twice a day."

"A bit. I fly faster than any of the New Kystle magic types, right? If I open it up? And I imagine people tend not to teleport in midair."

"Yes to both," he replies. "Have fun, Isabella. Mirror me if there's any trouble."

There's a knock on the door.

Adarin glances up, and calls, "Who is it?"

"It's Enathira. I forgot my bag," calls the voice of Polite About Personal Space Visitor.

She glances around. "Well, I thought I did, but it's not there. That would be very kind of you..." She starts making a systematic search of the room. "So how did you meet - Isabella? Am I pronouncing that right?"

Enathira pets the bird. "Sh-sh-sh I'm not going to hurt you," she soothes. "I wonder how long it takes to work...?"

Enathira sits down. She's beginning to look kind of uncomfortable, like something hasn't gone quite according to plan, but not enough to let go. She sets her jaw and holds the bird.

"I - I didn't think it worked like this," says Enathira, squirming, "maybe it still works like I thought and just - takes a while, if I let you go now he'll kill me probably -"

Vern can't think of an argument to counter that. Maybe if she didn't have someone touching her she'd say that Adarin hasn't killed anyone in his life. But she does have someone touching her, so she can't think of what to say other than new and interesting ways to beg for her to stop.

It's probably not any consolation that after this has been going on for about half an hour, Enathira starts quietly crying.

None at all. Vern has been crying for far longer, and Adarin doesn't seem capable of doing anything other than shivering and whimpering for release anymore.

"I'm sorry," says Enathira at the one-hour mark.

"I can't, I can't."

Vern makes a pathetic wail. Then, back to begging.