Manus is beaming when Jarl trudges into the kitchen for some morning coffee.

It’s before dawn—before even morning mass—and Jarl can’t comprehend the chipper smile on Manus’ face; they both know he spent the night in Jasey’s room, again, so it can’t be him waking to an empty bed.

The answer, of course, just makes him want to punch the pest in his mouth: “Told you he’s adorable~”

Jarl decides, then and there, that he’s gonna need way more than just 4 cups of coffee today.

~

Áesta joins them not too long after that and giggles at them as Manus rushes over to hug him.

Jarl rolls his eyes at them (he’s pretty sure Manus just floated over there, too; somehow). Turning his attention to Hagen, who’s basically passing out on his couch, the priest hands him a third cup of coffee to get him through the final rundown of their rescue plan: all the places that they’re now going to teleport to.

It’s going to be a long list, Jarl’s sure.

But it’s for Jasey, so he doesn’t care.

~

“Z’e first place… is Bailemore.”

Hagen tiredly unfolds the map Manus had him get two days ago and shows its marked and noted body. Several adhesive papers with tapering edges point at various places on the navigational tool, one of which is labelled Bailemore, and contain on their thin forms numerous numbers which Jarl assumes are coordinates.

Or maybe they’re a reduced form of the math Hagen spent all night on; he wouldn’t know.

“Z’ere is an inn z’ere called Sunder, a Church of Redemption for Jarl to network, and Cunning’s bar for Áesta.” Hagen pages through the adhesive papers to show the names of the suggested places beneath the numbers, hopefully making it easier for them to locate, at the very least, the inns they’ll have to lay Manus down in.

He’s going to be spending a lot of energy guiding their all teleporting, so he’ll also be doing a lot of sleeping; but that doesn’t explain… “Why does he need a bar?”

“Ah don’t technically need it,” the little daemon answers him, grinning widely and offering Jarl a smug look. “Ye’ll be feedin’ me; but Ah ain’t steppin’ foot in t’at church a’ yers! All t’em ‘olier t’an t’ou fekers can burst.” He makes a mock explosion with his slim fingers then giggles. “Anyway, bar folk tend ta be funnier.”

Jarl raises an eyebrow, wanting to refute that, but then thinks better of it: they’re just 2 different people.

Hagen, a bit delirious at this point, simply nods along to what they’re saying. Then he continues: “Z’e next is… Bailenac’ringy v’ich has an inn called River, Z’e Native Church, and Z’e Vet Vagon…”

Áesta suddenly bursts out laughing: “Wet Wagon‽‽‽”

Manus chuckles along with him and nods, grabbing a tourist pamphlet from the pile Jarl almost forgot about. He opens it and shows it to the daemon, “Sí: Wet Wagon. Supposedly, they used to drink out of them!”

The little brown devil giggles at the tidbit, “Ah~ Ah love t’e Irish!!!”

Hagen sighs tiredly into his hands while Jarl rolls his eyes. “Movin’ on… Olecastle is next… viz’ St. Bree’s Church, Z’e Caffeine Bar, and Ye Ole Castle House… Z’en Baileborough—”

Suddenly struck by something, the priest rather comically raises his hand, “Why do three of them start with Baile?”

Hagen blinks tiredly at the holy man but thankfully doesn’t have to answer that: Áesta does it for him. “T’ey’re called linguistic relations: it’s like a trail o’ breadcrumbs. Yer brot’er, Jasey, is in Bailecastle, yea? hWen plannin’ big trips like t’is one, it’s best ta form yer path—t’e places yer usin’ ta get ta yer end goal—with names t’at’re similar ta t’e end goal: in t’is case, Baile and castle. It makes it easier fer t’e spell caster—Handsy—ta keep track o’ t’e route we’re on; it also makes it easier fer t’e Axis Mundi.”

The brunette raises a sceptical brow, “The wooden board tracks us?”

Manus smiles, amused. He pulls out the item in question and sets it on the coffee table; they’ll need it soon, anyway, “Not the board, Jarly: the tree—more specifically: that which links all parts of our world.”

“T’ink o’ it like a mnemonic device: t’e repeatin’ Bailes and castles reminds ye o’ hwere ye’re going.”

“Right; and this might not seem all that important to us because, well, of course we’re going to remember: we’re trying to save Jasey!” Jarl’s mouth dries a little at how earnest the magician sounds, like he’s desperate and begging for this to work. “But the Axis Mundi isn’t; we’re like ants climbing up a tree: the tree might help us—lend us some branches to cut long distances, brush aside some anteater, or protect us from the rain—but only because it finds the interaction entertaining; if it had something better to do, it’d do it.”

“Saving someone else isn’t—?”

“Jasey ain’t someone else ta t’em: ‘e’s entertainment; an ant; a story.” Áesta picks up the wooden board and taps it with his finger. Where he touched, a neon green shape suddenly appears: three little spheres; an ant. “hWat is it doin’? hWy isn’t it in it’s li’l hill? O, it’s goin’ in t’e wather! Ah wonder hwat will happen?”

“Kind of a better analogy, really,” Manus muses, eyeing Jarl to make sure he didn’t explode in anger or alarm.

But he won’t. He’s too entranced by Áesta’s brutally honest stare. “T’ey don’t care. T’ey’re jus’ curious. Entertained. So, we have ta make sure t’ey know hwere we’re goin’ or t’ey might loose us.”

“You remember the space we were in as I tried to get us there the first time?”

Jarl nods. He doesn’t think he’ll every be able to forget.

Manus nods back, “That’s where we’ll be stuck.”

“If yer lucky; some fekers get so lost t’ey end up seepin’ out.” The tiny evil grins at Jarl’s horrified expression. Apparently, he is still daemon enough to enjoy scaring the pants off the priest. “Breakin’ down… until t’ey ain’t t’em anymore… ain’t anybody~”

That… is a horrifying thought.

But it’s for Jasey.

~

After that… enlightening discussion, Manus starts brewing more primer.

His goal, this time, is to make enough for the whole trip twice over; basically: enough for them and Jasey.

Jarl’s pleased when he hears this.

Enough that he doesn’t question why they would travel back home in portions instead of one big go.

~

When it’s nearing noon, Áesta is sufficiently distracted by a bath, and Manus says he won’t need any help, Jarl gathers Hagen up in his arms and, using his (daemon’s) super speed, quickly takes the doctor home.

Hagen’s house is actually his workplace. He lives in the flat above it. It’s a quaint little place with strange flowers (the apothecary insists that they’re herbs or medicines but if it blooms… Jarl can’t tell the difference) and a surprisingly clean appearance. The priest is fairly certain this is just because Hagen must keep things organized and some sort of sterile in order to do his job; otherwise, the stench of chemicals alone…

The doorway leading to the medical half of Witch Doctor (And won’t that be a trial for the next however long: Witch Doctor being separated from each other!) is located in the back and through the storage room.

It requires a separate key to unlock; but, as with the store’s door, Jarl has this. He makes sure that both are relocked before making his way upstairs, through the kitchen, living and dining room, and then the bedroom. He sets the man down in his own bed, after removing his coat, shoes, and glasses, and then covers him up.

The priest takes a moment to make sure his friend looks comfortable before writing him a quick note.

Then, he’s gone.