That evening as the sun kissed the ocean painting the bay in a dazzling gold, Hadrian thought the city appeared abandoned. He didn’t see a single person on the street and as no donkey carts operated on Berling Way, they were all forced to walk the two blocks down to the Blue Parrot. Hadrian didn’t mind. Despite the glare coming off the bay that blinded if looked at directly, a sunset walk in the growing cool of the evening was pleasant. Albert lamented this dismal state of affairs as if the sun itself, once down, would never return. Hadrian had to admit it did sort of feel that way. Matters only got worse when they arrived and found no one waiting out front.

“Is it closed?” Gwen asked disappointed.

Albert bore the weight of a worried face as he climbed the steps and tried the handle. The door swung open. He ducked his head in, pulled it back out, and flashed them all a smile. “Lights are burning and people are at tables.”

“Oh, good,” Gwen said relieved. “I wanted—I mean, it only seemed right to say goodbye.” As she entered Gwen let her hand trail across the doorframe a melancholy look on her face. “It’s such a beautiful place. The first time we were here I kept thinking it was all a wonderful dream, that it couldn’t be real, that places such as this can’t actually exist.” She looked at Royce. “What will happen to it, do you think?”

Royce paused with her, but didn’t reply.

She nodded as if he had, and together the two walked in.

They had no trouble finding a table. The big room beneath the great dome was less than half full. Still, all the lanterns and chandeliers were lit, and musicians tuned up in the pit making plinks and plunks and gritty wining sounds.

“Welcome, my friends!” Atyn rushed at them, his fingers laced with the stems of wine glasses, his arms wide as if to hug them all. “So wonderful to see you here on our…our last night.” He squeezed his lips tight and breathed deep through his nose. “I am sorry, this is just so…never mind. Tonight is a celebration! This will be an evening that people will remember when they recall the glory that was Tur Del Fur.”

“Are you traveling on the Ellis Far tomorrow, as well?” Gwen asked.

Atyn shook his head looking a bit embarrassed. “No, fine lady. I…I would not be welcome on such a ship.”

“Oh,” Gwen said. “But you are leaving?”

He rolled his shoulders and shook his head. “This is my home. In all the world, there has never been such a place for someone like me. I have fine clothes.” He cast his wine glass endowed hands at the dome. “I am allowed to work here in this palace, to make money, to have a place of my own. I can walk the street like anyone else. I talk to wonderful people like you, who maybe pretend not to notice that I am different. This isn’t a rare thing, this is snow in summer, it is rain falling up because the world is upside-down—but it is only here.”

“Your just going to stay then?” Royce asked. “You know what’s going to happen?”

Atyn nodded. “I know it seems strange, but I’m not the only one. There are others like me who feel the same. Being here gave us the chance to see what was possible, and also how impossible it is to go back. Life beyond this little bay is simply not worth the effort anymore.” He set out the wine glasses on their table. “So now, for this evening there are no specials for everything tonight is special, and there are no choices because everyone will receive everything the kitchen has to offer. Enjoy.”

Music began playing. The tune was lively as ever, but Hadrian couldn’t help but think it sounded sad like the brave greeting of a widow at the funeral of the husband. Albert must have had a similar thought as he got up and peeked in the pit. Then he looked around before retuning. “More than half the orchestra is gone,” he reported. “A lot of the wait staff, too. And yet the casino is still open, can you believe it?”

“Oh, yes,” Arcadius said. “Makes a sort of sense now, don’t you think? Everyone who has chosen to remain are all gamblers after a fashion. All of us taking a terrible risk. What if there was a storm that wrecked the last few ships? What if Garvis did something to cause Drumindor to erupt early? No, the ones who play it safe, those who don’t care for gambling, they left weeks ago. Those of us still here—the ones who could have left—are gamblers. You might even say that some of us are irresistibly attracted to the thrill of coming within a breath of disaster but managing, at the last second, to escape its clutches. Such a heart-pounding experience makes ordinary life nearly unbearable.”

“You never impressed me as a daredevil,” Royce said.

“In my youth I was a great adventurer, but even in my old age, well…I kept you in a paper cage for three years, Royce. You must admit that’s a fair bit of risky gambling.”

“Why was that?” Royce asked. “People gamble for profit. What profit was there in what you did?”

Arcadius fiddled with his napkin folding and unfolding it. His old fingers never seemed to stop. “Men waste fortunes to climb a single mountain, Royce. It may be hard to understand, but sometimes the act itself is the reward. I would even go so far as to say, that is the best compensation. For after spending what money work provides, you have nothing to show. But the man who finds satisfaction in the achievement, he will keep his treasure forever. No one can take it away—no thief can steal a memory or erase an accomplishment. And the dividends are more than the means to procure food, they are the building blocks of self-confidence, courage, respect, even admiration. I’d be wary of that last one as it is a bit too much like wine.” He winked at Royce, who didn’t appeared satisfied, but didn’t press.

“I never actually sat in here,” Rehn said, his eyes round as his head turning left and right. “They always stopped me at the door. I suppose I didn’t look like I could afford a meal or a drink.”

“In that case,” Royce said. “You might want to watch out for the wine as well, it’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous?”

“As are the lady singers,” Gwen added, but looked at Hadrian as she did. “They are beautiful, but also hazardous.”

“What does that mean?” Hadrian asked.

Gwen offered him a pitiable frown. “It means she’s not the one.”

“The one? Whose not, and the one what?”

“She’s not the one.” Gwen repeated this time adding a sympathetic pat on his hand.

“Good evening everyone!” Calvary Graxton addressed the audience from the stage. As usual Mr. Parrot was dressed in his long blue coat and yellow vest. “First, I would like to extend my sincere apologies for being incapable of providing you with our signature peerless service this evening. Our staff is a bit thin tonight. There’s some rumor going round that the world is on the verge of ending. I tried to explain this was no reason not to report to work, but you’d be surprised how many disagree.”

The audience responded with guarded laughter. It sounded like a joke, but maybe it wasn’t, and they were still sober enough to care.

“Even the parrots quit.” He twirled a finger toward the dome pointing out the absence of the birds. “Truth is, of course, I set them free. Not that they were complaining mind you. I took better care of them than I do you. At least they didn’t have to pay.”

The lanterns around the hall were dimmed and the room grew dark making the lights on the stage appear more intense.

“For those who are joining us for the first time, my name is Calvary Graxton—Mr. Parrot to those who know me. I own this place. Twenty-five years ago I came down here and survived by capturing and selling parrots. Problem was, I grew to like the birds too much to sell—too much to even capture. So, I shifted to cooking and selling food on the street. I bought an old cart that I painted blue with yellow wheels and I called it the Blue Parrot. Would you believe I managed to turn a little profit?” He held up his hands inviting them all to notice the grand hall and the magnificent dome. “Who knew? Truth is, this has been a life-long labor of love.” He paused and took a breath. “But also it has been a wonderful privilege to have served, and been apart of this community. I’ve come to know—to become friends—with so many. Most of you will be leaving tomorrow and never coming back. But for my part, I’m going to stay. I’m just too damn old to start over again. That and I still have a cellar full of HoHura that I just can’t waste.” He smiled showing this was a joke, but no one laughed.

“Tonight, however, we are pulling all the corks, banging all the drums, and ringing all the bells as a tribute to what once was, and will likely never come again.”

While he was speaking Atyn had poured wine into everyone’s glasses. Then, shockingly, poured one for himself as on stage a young boy carried a drink to Mr. Parrot. Calvary Graxton raised the glass to the room. “Go forth all of you and tell the tale of Tur, of fishermen, and unholy trios, of yellow jackets, and dwarven towers, of a place where dreams came true, and of parrots of blue and a way that was new, that hopefully one day might be again. A toast to Tur Del Fur!”

“To Tur Del Fur!” the audience responded, and the sound was deep and loud.

Turning away from the stage, Hadrian saw more patrons had come in behind them. And by the glow of the stage lights, he saw many of them were dwarfs.

Everyone including the staff drank. Even Royce took a sip from his glass, but appeared neither proud, nor sad. If anything, he looked oddly thoughtful.

“Now for your entertainment,” Mr. Parrot said. “Once more please welcome Miss Millificent Ledeye.”

Hadrian applauded as Millie walked on stage. Hadrian expected she would be there. He had tied a bit of sailcloth to the hammer of Andvari Berling’s statue that morning indicating he wanted to speak to her. He had no idea she would preform, but was pleased she did. Her singing was nothing short of magical. She wore the same dress, and not surprisingly preformed the same song. This time around the performance was less spellbinding as the first, but she was still radiant in the glow of a half dozen bullseye lanterns, and this time he was certain she really was looking at him. He stared back lost in the moment. That moment ended when he made the mistake of looking at Gwen, who glared slowly shaking her head.

Hadrian couldn’t understand what Gwen had against Millie. He hadn’t said a word about her to anyone. He supposed she was making an assumption based on the way she looked and maybe how he stared, but he felt there was more to it.

The song ended, and Millie went off stage. He faced Gwen, “Why do you keep—”

“Miss DeLancy!” Tim Blue shouted for joy as he charged the table an attractive woman in tow.

“Tim!” Gwen shouted right back, and jumping up embraced the lapis lad as if the two were life-long friends who hadn’t seen each other in years.

“Oh! I’m so happy we found you,” Tim exclaimed. “I had no idea where to look, no clue where you might be, and this was our last chance.” Tim appeared close to tears as he introduced the woman he was with. “This is my Meredith.”

“Meredith?” Gwen asked concerned. “What happened to Edie?”

Tim nodded. “Edie is short for Meredith. It’s what I’ve called her for forever.”

“How is Edie short for Meredith?” Royce asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Gwen said, and moved to Edie.

Tim’s wife was a tiny thing with braided hair, wearing a cheap dress. The woman stared at Gwen with tears in her eyes and whispered, “I want to hug you, but I don’t know if that’s appro—”

Gwen pulled her tight.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” Edie cried into Gwen’s shoulder.

Bewildered, Hadrian looked at Royce who shook his head at a loss.

Gwen invited Tim and Edie to join them. More chairs were found and they all squeezed tighter.

“Are you leaving tomorrow?” Gwen began. “Do you have passage on the Ellis Far?”

Tim nodded. “We do.” He took his wife’s hand. “I had just enough money left over. We will return to Avryn poor as mice in a monk’s monastery, but we’ll be safe. I’ve heard back from my family and they will meet us at Roe. Things will be hard for a while, but nothing so bad as they were.”

“We owe you our lives,” Edie said.

“I can’t help feeling that we’re missing something,” Royce told Hadrian.

“There does seem to be a story worth telling here,” Arcadius said.

“Sir,” Atyn addressed Hadrian. “There is a lady who wishes to speak with you.”

“Millificent Ledeye?”

“One and the same, Sir. She’s waiting out front for you.”

Hadrian stood up. “Fill me in when I get back.”

Gwen took his hand. “Remember, Hadrian. She’s not the one.”

“And don’t be out too late,” Royce said, then made grimace. “We have to be on a ship in the morning.”

To Hadrian stepping outside the Blue Parrot after having gone in, was always a strange thing. As if by some bizarre feat of magic, one world was exchanged for another. As usual, the sun was down, the evening cool, but this time the resulting world was different. The enchanting sparkle of a hundred shining windows was gone. Shops and homes were dark. Streets were quiet. No music spilled out of doorways, no rattle of wagon wheels or boisterous laughter cut the night. Tur Del Fur was an empty house after a party and its silence was loud.

Millie stood alone near the curb on a street devoid of life waiting for him. “I saw the flag,” she said. “You certainly took your time.” She sashayed toward him. “But leaving now has its advantages. The shops will all be empty tomorrow. We can take whatever supplies we need.”

“That’s not why I asked to see you.”

Millie stopped and stared at him confused. “What do you mean?” She tilted her head looking him over. “And where’s the book?”

“That’s just it. That’s what I wanted to tell you. The book—it’s the diary of Falkirk DeRoche. It’s not a treasure map at all.”

“Where is it?”

“Right now? Best guess?” he pointed at the bay. “It’s inside Drumindor.”

“What?” Her whole face scrunched up into a ball of befuddlement. Not her best look, but he didn’t think Millie was capable of ugly.

“But like I said, it doesn’t matter because the diary wasn’t a map, and it wasn’t a treasure the church searched for in Neith—just an old book.”

She continued to stare as if working out a translation. “So, I don’t get it. Why are you here then? Why did you hang the white flag?”

“Because I wanted to make sure you knew to get out. I didn’t want you sticking around thinking the book was still a possibility. Everyone seems to knows what’s going to happen, but I don’t know your situation. Maybe Andre and Alessandro don’t tell you everything, maybe they keep you isolated.”

“What? So you think I’m an idiot or something?”

“No! Of course not!”

She folded her arms and glared.

“Look, I just wanted to tell you that…well, if you don’t have a way to get out, I could arrange to get you on the Ellis Far tomorrow.”

“The Ellis Far?” Her eyes threatened to fall out of her head. “Are you serious?”

He nodded. “We have a stateroom and I think maybe—”

“That’s the ship I took to come here, you know that right? That’s the ship Millie Mulch stowed away on. Millificent Ledeye will not be getting on the Ellis Far! She will not be going back!”

“Fine, but you can’t stay here. This whole city is going to explode, catch fire, sink or whatever happens when a volcano blows it’s top.”

“You don’t know that,” she scoffed, her arms still folded, elbows high.

Hadrian waved at the empty street. “And all of these people agree with you.”

Mille frowned.

“Everyone is either gone or leaving.”

“Yes, I know,” she said. “Fools are easily frightened.”

Hadrian had known many willful women. Usually it was a trait he admired, but there was stubborn and then there was deaf. “Millie, Cornelius DeLur has loaded his ship with everything he wasn’t willing to send out by wagon. His entire household is prepping to leave. Do you think he’s a fool, too?”

“My name is Millificent, and everything DeLur is doing is a show. He’s likely behind this whole thing. For him this could be a version of spring cleaning. He gets everyone out, then slinks through the city—”

“What are you talking about? Millie, you need to leave.”

She locked her jaw, her body ridged, as she glared at him with ice cold eyes.

“Sorry, Millificent.”

She thawed a drop. “If it really is a problem, Andre will get me out.”

“That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. You need to get away from them.”

“Them?”

“Andre and Alessandro.”

“Are you suggesting I should—oh, I see.” She unfolded her arms and began swinging them at her sides as she walked in a small circle around him. “You don’t just want me to leave, you want me to leave with you.”

He showed a dumb grin. “Would that be so terrible?”

She pondered this. He could tell because of how her tongue played along the front of her teeth. Arcadius cleaned his glasses or stroked his beard; Royce stared at nothing, Albert blinked several times while smiling, and Millie Mulch stroked her front teeth with the tip of her tongue as if pondering whether or not she ought to bite.

“Look, all I’m asking is that you get on the Ellis Far with me. We don’t have to go back to Melengar. We can go to Aquesta. They have a new king there now, it could be ever exciting. We could also go to Mehan, Maranon is very pretty—very green. If things don’t work out between us, I’ll at least see that your taken care of—that your safe.”

“So noble of you.” Her face pretended seriousness. “Are you certain you aren’t a knight?”

“Definitely not a knight.”

Millie looked back at the doors to the Parrot. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Andre’s in there. Alessandro is with him. They think I’m visiting the elephant. In a few more minutes they’ll begin searching. And they won’t like finding me with you.”

“Fine, come with me now. I’ll see you have a safe place to spend the night and in the morning we can leave.”

“All my things are at the Cave.”

“Is there anything you really need?”

“Well…I have thirty gold I’m awfully fond of.”

“Thirty!”

She straighten her back, and her arms folded once more. “Yes, thirty. I’ve worked very hard and saved every copper. And I’m not leaving it all behind.”

“Okay, but you say they’re both in the Parrot at this moment, right?”

She nodded.

“Fine, so we can just go to the Cave right now and get it. And then you can spend the night with me, and tomorrow we’ll board the Ellis Far and start a new life.”

She thought about this. As she did her eyes continued to creep fearfully toward the door.

What did they do to her?

“And if they catch us? You’re unarmed, and Alessandro is especially good with a blade.”

“Best not to let them catch us then.”

Gwen couldn’t take her eyes off of Tim.

He’s alive! And Edie is safe!

When she heard nothing for so long, Gwen suffered doubts. So many things could have gone wrong; so many things should have. She changed the direction of fate, otherwise Tim would have been dead for weeks, and at that moment Edie would likely be learning her literal worth at some seedy action house. But no, they were here. And like a child who had broken a plate, Gwen worried about the consequences. Would she even know what they were? Obviously, she knew Tim and Edie were having dinner with them at the Parrot. That was something that wouldn’t have happened, but could it effect anything important? Gwen was also forced to suffer through Tim’s telling of her heroics. How she faced down the “evil casino guard”, then risked her own money at the tables telling him what to bet on and when to pull his money.

She expected questions, concerned looks. Gwen had never hidden her gifts, but no one took them seriously. That was the way in the west. In the east, future-telling was as common and accepted as being a seller of rugs, or sandals. And just just like any weaver or leather worker, whose who were talented were respected. In the west, things were different. Illia always warned Gwen to watch out for people—especially the ones who don’t believe. “They sit and cast out their palm laughing at their friends as if it is all some grand joke,” her mother had told her. “Then you tell them what you see, and they stop laughing. Some recoil and call you a witch. Others…well, some become violent, especially if it’s bad news.” Gwen watched Albert, Arcadius, and most especially, Royce, to see their reactions.

All three listened carefully, to a mostly factual report. Albert continued to smile. Arcadius nodded and played with his napkin, and Royce...he showed no reaction at all.

“When we had made a bit more than what was necessary,” Tim said. “Gwen told me to stop, to gather my winnings and to leave, and I did.”

“Did you get your coins back?” Royce asked Gwen.

She nodded. “Tim insisted.”

“Good.”

“I have to admit,” Albert said. “That is the only story I’ve ever heard where anyone ever walked away a winner.”

Gwen was at a loss. She expected more. No one had called her a witch, no one kicked over their chair and stormed out, or suggested that she help them take over the world. They all just thought it was luck. Gwen took it as a win, but two wins in a row made her nervous.

Gwen thought of ripples in the lake. How by asking Tim and Edie to sit with them, two chairs were pulled over—chairs that someone else should have sat in. They ate food that wouldn’t have been eaten before, at least not by them. And where did they stay? Who did they speak to? How many other things could these two have done that wouldn’t have been done before? Does any of that matter? Not knowing how things were supposed to turn out Gwen had no idea. There was only one thing that…

Gwen stopped breathing as the thought coalesced in her mind.

What if I changed that? She looked at Royce’s hands that lay flat on the table. What if I look at his palms again and see something different now.

Then another awful thought struck her.

What if the awful thing has already happened?

More than anything it was the timing that chilled Gwen to the bone. Could it really be merely coincidence that instead of finding Tim’s body, they found Drumindor locked. What if Tur Del Fur will be destroyed all because I saved Tim?

The first course arrived, but seeing Atyn smiling at her, Gwen had lost her appetite.

What have I done?

Feeling a wave of fear and guilt, Gwen sat back biting her lip, and it was then she noticed Rehn was missing.