"Shouldn't you go back before the customer misses you?" asked Ten, "Piglet chose me fair and square; it's not my fault you pulled the short straw tonight, just the nature of the work we do! Though I'll admit it doesn't feel much like work when there's one as fair as him to cater for."

"You're not serious!" cried Vix, "What if it really is the witch you've got in there? The Warlock would destroy you!" 

"Oh, hush and nonsense!" argued Ten, "You said so yourself that it wouldn't be him; now I've the honor of deflowering him you're kicking a fuss about nothing. Go back and deal with yours, and if you're lucky he'll have passed out already. Unfasten his breeches, swipe some salve across his manhood, and I bet he won't know the difference. Just tell him when he wakes that he was wonderful."

"He wasn't much interested," Vix admitted, "I said I'd see if another would take my place."

"Ah," sighed Ten, "Well I won't swap. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

The door was opened and shut again before Vix could get her nose in.

"Fuck!" she cried, rushing off to find reinforcements.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting," Ten told the figure sitting on a large down bed the color of the night sky, "But I brought all that we'll need."

Delph held the wine to his lips but did not drink. Ten's expert fingers brushed away the hairs from his face. It was a strange sensation... as though one he had dreamed of a thousand times.

"And can we talk first?" he asked him.

"Whatever makes you comfortable," Ten replied gently.

Sitting beside him, he snaked his fingers around the glass in Delph's hand and tilted it towards his mouth. "A little more," he said, "Will help you to relax."

The sweetness of the wine tasted bitter on his tongue.

"I don't drink much at home," he confessed, "Though there are wineries on the mountains. And my brother enjoys a glass when... um..."

Delph's eyes shifted nervously around the room. He couldn't think how to finish his thought, or what words he ought to say to the man that was bought for him. Fortunately, Ten required no such consideration.

"I saw tonight how much your brother enjoys a glass," laughed Ten.

"Oh! No, I meant my brother in Grunterbad. I only met Ursa... yesterday? If you can believe it. And once we've seen the Warlock, well-"

"Just a moment," interrupted Ten, "I think I forgot something in the other room."

Delph nodded and happily sipped from his glass, thankful for time to prepare in his mind for what was to come. He'd already decided not to tell Fiepet about it; but emboldened by the wine, and with Ursa's encouragement, he felt it didn't matter what was done in the Madning Isle so far from home.

Vix had not long left them when a flustered maid came scurrying across the courtyard to intercept her. 'The Counsel!' she mouthed, tugging her arm and pulling Vix behind a painted screen adjacent to the bedrooms.

"The Counsel has come!" she informed her.

It had to be the witch inside with Ten. There was no more doubt about it.

They watched from their hiding place as the frail, ghost-like Counsel strode closer. Holding their breaths, they watched him open the door to the first of the rooms and glance inside at Vix's drunken guest. A look was all that was needed before the Counsel stepped in and closed the door behind him.

"Dear Maphis!" cried Vix, "I might have been there with him! Hurry now, he must be asking the drunk what he's done with the witch! We have to warn Ten!"

They'd yet to reach the door of the blue room when Ten came rushing out of it.

"Vix, I'm really starting to wonder-" he confessed.

"Yes, you fool, it's him!" she cried, "The Counsel has come here to find him! Tell me you haven't desecrated the Divine!"

"In so short a time? Of course not!"

"The pair of you, there's no time to argue!" the maid declared, "Don't you understand the severity of what you've done? You cannot let the Counsel find you!"

"But... we have done nothing! Nothing happened between us, I swear to Jophis that I barely touched him!"

"You think that will matter?" asked the maid, "The whole room saw you with them, saw you place hands on the Maddening Witch! Do you think the Counsel will spare you? Do you think the Warlock will let either of you live?!"

"Oh shit! Fuck! Fuck! Ten, she's right!"

It was better to save their skins than to risk even packing their bags.

"Go!" cried the maid, watching the door as the two made their frantic escape towards the courtyard. They were clear the other side when it opened and closed again, but the maid was not so fortunate, the Counsel had already seen her.

"Is there a lock for this door?" he asked.

The maid nodded, curtseying before him as her body shook.

"Then fetch it at once."

It wasn't the first time Ursa had spoken such nonsense in a drunken stupor. And just as before, he made a pass before passing out. Come the morning, his overtures would again be forgotten. There'd come a point where Min could no longer bear to let it happen. Even if Ursa needed comfort, even if he didn't realize what he'd done; the memories of his touch still lingered long beyond the haze of wine had lifted. 

With the door locked, The Counsel turned to the frightened maid.

"Did he come here with another?" he asked.

The maid nodded. "In the blue room" she told him, "The door at the end, Master, carved with a pair of dolphins."

It seemed that Ursa hadn't killed the witch's child at least. The Counsel was not too late to save his soul. When Fiepet arrived, they could take Ursa back to Relmund, and plan how to send him with Remora to Grunterbad. He knew already that the Witling Woman would be useless; it would have to fall to the Warlock to take action.

Since losing sight of the Counsel, and fearing he was headed in the wrong direction; the fearless Fiepet had calmed his nerves and retraced his steps, only to find the scorched earth that lit their path had vanished. In the dim light of the encroaching darkness, he had no choice but to trust he recalled the compass point correctly, and let his instinct guide him.

Following straight, his hands tightened on the reins as he tried to retain his positivity. The Counsel would have found his brother by now, and Delph would be safe in his care. There was even a chance they'd be returning, and could meet one another on the road.

What he hadn't expected, when at last the twinkling lights in the distance grew closer, was a riderless horse bolting past him towards the forest. Up ahead by the side of the road, he found the scene it had run from; an overturned carriage, and a couple in desperate need of his assistance.

"Please!" cried the woman, "Please sir, can you help us?!"

Fiepet the hero had no choice but to bring his horse to a stop.

"Is anyone hurt?" he called out.

"No," answered the man, "I don't believe so, but our horse got loose from the harness and tipped our carriage. Please, you must help us leave here! My friend and I... we are in great danger."

"Please sir!" the woman echoed.

"I wish I could but my business is pressing," Fiepet explained, "I must travel on this road to find my brother, I'm sorry... I-"

The woman broke into tears, weeping on her companion's shoulder.

"We're done for!" she wailed.

"Please," the man pleaded once more, "Just to the edge of the Witling Forest. It's large enough that we might lose ourselves, and we shall not keep you long. We're sitting ducks out here... please, have mercy."

Fiepet's honor was stirred. "Is the harness broken?" he asked them.

"No," the man replied, a bud of hope beginning to blossom in his chest, "We were too hasty and didn't tie it as we should..."

"Then let us hitch my horse," Fiepet offered, "I can only take you as far as the forest, mind you... but I cannot leave you here defenseless."

While his brother continued his heroics, Delph was starting to wonder how much longer Ten would keep him waiting. It's not that he was in any rush, but he'd begun to think he'd been abandoned. From the hall he could hear a commotion. In fearing that Ursa had started a fight, he placed his glass beside the bed, stepped into his shoes, and peeked through a gap in the door to see what was happening.

The local rabble had heeded the Counsel's warning, but only to a point. Despite his authority, there were those so worked up by drink and delirium that the courtyard was becoming overrun.

"What madness is this?" asked the Counsel, "Have they no fear of death?"

"The people are excited, Master," the maid explained, "News of the witch's return has driven them to frenzy."

From his place at the end of the hall, Delph could make out a crowd in the distance, and a pale thin man coming towards him, a frightened little woman by his side. He saw no sign of Ten or Ursa, and began to sense that something was amiss.

"Fools!" the Counsel scorned, "Whoever made the rumor of the witch, I will take their head and feed it to the birds!"

Delph quickly closed the door and backed into the room. Soon the pale man would be upon him, the ground floor window his only exit. With the barrier down, no magical protections were in place. Delph could only run while the chance remained. Scrambling to the far side of the room, he climbed onto the sill as the door was thrown open.

Those eyes.

The Counsel could live a thousand lifetimes and never forget those terrifying, blood-chilling eyes.

"He's there!" cried a man from the courtyard, "The witch is there!"

Surging forward wildly, the Counsel could only close the door in hopes of stemming their advance. Delph slipped out quickly onto the dirt below, racing at speed from the building, and near tripping on his robes in the process.

"Still yourself!" the Counsel roared at the growing mob. The blade in his hand still dripped the blood of the Catary guard. 

"Didn't you hear him?!" came a cry from the back, "Still your fucking selves and move aside!"

The violent hilt of an unsheathed sword soon cleared a path.

"Well, if it isn't my former comrade in arms!" cried Elion.

"You..?"

"I have been sent to find you, and it seems just as well that I have. What trouble have you invited Counsel? Have this crowd come to bear witness to your beauty?"

The tip of the Counsel's knife was directed at Elion's face. "Who sent you?" he demanded.

"The only man on the Madning Isle that would dare to," Elion replied, "The Warlock."

"He is here?"

"Not quite... but not far either. Where is your traveling companion? In there?"

The Counsel opened the door to the empty room. The witch had disappeared into the night, and only the phantom of his fleeing form remained in the Counsel's mind. He could not have been mistaken; the witch had truly returned to the Madning Isle.

"We must find him at once," said the Counsel.

"As you command," Elion bowed. "But for the recent tidings of the witch, he would have come here himself. The situation in the Witling Forest has not been easily remedied."

"The Warlock knows?" asked the Counsel.

"We heard the rumor as well as the rest, but the Witling Woman is in the wind. He had hopes that the man you were with might yield some answers. Is he here somewhere..?"

The Counsel motioned to the locked door at the other end of the hallway, and the maid quickly opened it. 

"Carry him to my horse," the Counsel ordered Elion.

The snoring body laid face down, a pillow gently resting beneath his cheek, and his hands neatly tied behind his back.

"This is the man you came with?" asked Elion, curious to see how closely the child might resemble the witch.

"He is the man I came for," the Counsel corrected.

Throwing Ursa over his shoulder, Elion laughed to hear him whimper in his sleep. "Can't hold his ale?" he asked, jerking the limp body and entertaining himself with its cries of discomfort.

The Counsel stepped towards him with his knife drawn.

"He is the Survivor of Hofingrad," the Counsel growled, "You will show him the respect you failed to show his brother."

Elion steadied the body with both hands. "As you command," he replied, his mocking smile buried by uncharacteristic sincerity. The stab of remorse continuing to fester.

His message understood, the Counsel swept out of the room, a menacing glare awarded to any straggler in his path. With infinite reverance, Ursa was carried through the halls and lobby of the Catary, and out to the waiting horses. Securing the bound body on the Counsel's steed, Elion's penitent trance was broken.

"The Warlock will want to know what became of the man you left the palace with," he told him, "There is rumor regarding his origin that must be answered to."

"And we will find him," the Counsel replied, "We find one... and we will find the other."

Whatever the witch's child had told the Counsel, it was clearly compelling enough that he remained intent on finding the brother. Elion needed to get ahead of their schemes that he might improve the chances of his own.

"The other?" he asked innocently.

"Yes," said the Counsel, "Fiepet Strahl will lead us to the witch."