Long Days in Paradise - The First Book of the Shards of Heaven

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Long Days in Paradise - The First Book of the Shards of Heaven Page 20

by Amos T. Fairchild

Chapter 19 – Hura I

  Worlds beyond

  the timeless void.

  In life or death,

  cannot avoid.

  I

  They had arrived.

  Kaeina squinted and looked toward the wall that bounded the Planer Transition Line, the division between a multitude of very different worlds to her own. Then her gaze turned toward the still somewhat distant circular wall within which the great castle complex was built. There she saw many dark towers reaching for the sky, concentric walls surrounding that. It seemed to be built to withstand the siege of a thousand armies rather than the disorganized creatures of Darkness.

  And now it was the centre of a violent storm, the castle within the relatively calm eye of a cyclonic disturbance that whistled across the open moor. Bolts of thick blue lightning struck the towers often, and rain stung the faces and pelts of the travellers... It was still not good weather for flying.

  “It doesn't look the place for burgo,” Kaeina shouted above the continuous roar of wind and thunder. “I doubt that the doors in such a place are big enough.” And she was right. Although there were several doors that would have permitted a first-form burgo, there were many more that would not. “And I should be returning to Saljid. I will already be missed, and I fear for those who may have been injured by the shaking lands.”

  Jorden was still holding firm to the mane of the dragon as she squatted on the moor with wings held tight against her body. “You've brought us here, Kay, and that's enough,” he shouted in turn, but Kaeina could barely hear. She twisted her neck and brought her head nearer to the man, and he repeated the statement, leaning toward those never-ending jaws and huge yellow eyes. “I don't know how to thank you,” he added.

  Kaeina smiled in her own way. It was a nice friendly smile, he was sure, but with the dragon-like burgo, and others of the lowly, there were far too many teeth for anyone to be at ease so near to such a smile. “Just return to us soon,” she said, “if Hura grants your passage home. Taf will miss you as will I. Of course if the Great One does not accept your plea then perhaps we will see you very soon.”

  The burgo stumbled in the gusting wind, Jorden jumping to the turf to stand aside the aestri. “And now I must go,” Kaeina shouted on, “before I am blown away and smashed against the transition wall.”

  Jorden nodded and waved, Taf smiled. “Thank you again,” the aestri shouted, and the burgo leapt into the tortured sky, her vast shape vanishing into the Darkness in a moment.

  Then the two were alone amongst the deluge, the mane of the aestri whipping her dark eyes, the man kneeling at her side, both hopeful that their companion of late would survive the dark perpetual storm. Now they had arrived. Now they had come to the place of Hura. After the difficult days of the road it seemed that their journey was almost at an end.

  That was if they could survive the hurricane, Jorden finding that just standing was something of a challenge. Taf did not have that problem, and she led on toward the wall, the last direction that Jorden would have considered. But it was a wise choice, of course, for although the sloping wall was quite high, and the climb of the stepped surface was a difficult one in the howling wind, the journey was soon much less so along the smooth stone under the limited shelter of the arches.

  Jorden counted fifty steps before coming to the top and following Taf through the narrow stone arch of the covered way that ran the immense length of the wall. It was more than just a covered way, though it served that purpose for the moment, for as Kaeina had said it was actually the marker of the many ports into a variety of other lands, most of which ports that were never used in such times. To Jorden the ports were just a third line of arches that stood between the two outer ones on each edge of the embattled wall. The numbers that were above each arch meant nothing.

  He knew that this was another line of transition, one that was very unlike the West-Pacific Line, yet it did not occur to him that walking through any of the arches would have any effect. And under normal circumstances he would have been correct, yet the quakes had disrupted the Domain in many ways, and many of those disruptions had been passed on to even other worlds.

  One of the disruptions was that the port the Jorden chose to walk through was currently active.

  There was not any of the shortness of breath or flashes of cold or heat that Jorden had experienced in transitions of the past. In fact there was nothing to indicate that such a transition had even taken place. Except for the slight change of scenery.

  The most notable change was that it was suddenly a bright and sunny day, and there was a gentle breeze to replace the cyclonic winds of the Domain. It all seemed very ordinary... That was until Jorden began to look a little closer. It was then he noticed that he was standing in the middle of a large, but fortunately long deserted village, a village which had been abandoned earlier in the year when another entity had wandered in from the Domain of Hura Ghiana. In fact he was standing in what had once been their hall of meeting, or perhaps on their hall of meeting was a better description.

  Jorden backed and destroyed another dwelling. He crouched. He was a giant. He had not noticed the village earlier, not until he had looked to what made the odd crunching sound beneath his feet. It was not often he thought to look down to see whose village he might be standing on. Suddenly it occurred to Jorden that perhaps giants were simply misunderstood.

  He lifted the plate sized roof from a nearby house that looked a lot like a large, fat mushroom. It was empty, as was all the village, the population of finger sized entities well gone. He was glad of that at least. Jorden had no desire to injure or kill anyone, regardless of their size. It was also all quite impossible, he knew, but then what wasn't in the lands of dream, and he picked up a few pieces of doll house furniture.

  Taf interrupted him. “I thought you wanted to see Hura, not get lost in yet another world.”

  Jorden glanced back toward her, noticing the ill defined arch that she stood within. “I didn't realize that I was going into another world, especially not Gulliver's. I didn't think the transitions were quite that easy.”

  “They aren't... at least I don't think they are. And this one could close at any time.” The aestri was surprisingly nervous, and that worried Jorden. If a hundred kilogram cat was getting jumpy then it was time to be away.

  II

  It was still dark and windy back in the Domain, the rain heavier if that was possible. And it was not particularly dry amongst the arches and somewhat patchy stone roof, not with the wind howling in such a way, but at least the path was clear and it was slightly sheltered, and in a relatively short time the two companions stood upon the outer wall of the castle near to where it joined the planer line.

  They were then within the eye of the storm and the wind had dropped to nothing, which was fortunate as they were presently standing atop open battlements. It continued to rain, although perhaps less heavily, and the lightning still flashed above, but now it was at least possible to open their eyes fully without fear of the removal, or severe damage, of an eyeball.

  Jorden looked to the castle, a structure that towered above. It was as large as a small city, and the two could actually see very little of the complete structure. What they could see was quite enough. Below them was an open court filled with exotic plant life and paths and various ornaments. Beyond that were the shear walls of the castle and the multitude of towers.

  “Okay, now what,” Jorden muttered. He had not really known what to expect, and this wasn't really it. In a world of talking lions and dragons, everything seem unexpected.

  He wondered how they were supposed to even enter such a fortress. Castles were designed in such a way for a reason, to keep unwanted guests out, and it would hardly be easy for an unknown outsider and his lion to gain entry. That was if they could even find a way down from the outer wall, although as the wall was connected to the public access-way of the planer wall, there had to be a simple method.

  Which there was. It
amounted to a broad stair leading down into the open court that lay between walls, an area some two hundred paces across. “Well this is nice, Taf,” Jorden said casually. It was easy to be a little casual after surviving the hurricane that lay beyond the outer wall. “I thought it would be a little more difficult than this.”

  Taf sniffed and glanced to the gardens. They looked like any gardens would. “Getting in won't be a problem, silly, but to get to see Hura might. People build shells about themselves so that they don't have to speak with those they don't want to, and rulers build castles. They have servants and bureaucrats to talk with the people that they don't have the time for. We could be here a lifetime waiting to see her.”

  “I know, but at least we're here.”

  The castle was certainly designed to deter all but the most determined of callers by it's looks. It was huge. It was also not particularly pretty. Castles weren't supposed to be pretty, yet few were quite this dark and ominous, with such harsh jagged lines. And few had quite such a huge front door. Jorden paused in the open stone court to face it, Taf sitting nearby. It was one heck of a door, he thought, over ten meters high and nearly as wide, and must have taken twenty huge trees to build. The timber of the door was bound with dark iron bands and studded with rivets, and it was extremely old. Jorden looked to the aestri, Taf looking to the knocker. At least that was what Jorden assumed it was. If it were not so huge then it would have been easily recognized, yet few doors had a knocker that was larger than the knockee. Jorden knocked. It took all of his strength to lift the cast iron monstrosity, and he found he could knock once before he was exhausted. Which was quite enough, he was sure. The thump was like that of a battering ram and it likely resonated through the entire south wing of the castle.

  The door then opened slowly into infinity, or so it seemed for an instant. It wasn't that the room was all that big, although it was immense, it was just so completely empty. It was like the arena of an indoor stadium that was inadequately lit and graced with one desk, and that was on the far side. The two walked in, each of the two doormen struggling to slow their half of the huge door and return it to the closed position. Jorden said “hi” to the nearest without response, even offered to help close the door. The doorman continued to ignore him. He shrugged and followed Taf out into the dim interior of the castle.

  Jorden's footfall on the tiled floor echoed off distant walls, as did the odd touch of Taf's claws. As he walked, eyes were turned to the vaulted ceiling far above. It was the most idiotic thing he had seen within the domain: a room so vast that it took over twenty metres of chain to hang the chandeliers at a manageable height above the floor, and there were five of them. Five in a row between the door and the desk at the far end of an empty stadium.

  It seemed to take forever to walk the distance to the receptionist. And that was all she was. The young woman would not have looked out of place in the foyer of any corporation of the real world, not once she had changed clothes at least. There were few secretaries of home that wore a flat black robe with a red sash about their waist and black lipstick. She was otherwise quite attractive. The real surprise was that there was such a person on duty during such a season. Jorden doubted that many would brave the storms to come to the castle. It was a wonder that the door wasn't just locked and forgotten about until the next Time of Light.

  So this was it, Jorden thought as he stood before the barren black desk in the dim black walled foyer of the black castle of Hura Ghiana, witch-god of her Domain. He had come this far and now he needed a line that would attract attention, something that would compel the local god to give him an audience, an audience with the maker of suns and moons and the giver of second forms to talking lions and dragons. This was a being of power that was unknown within his world. He was starting to wonder if he could even speak with such a being.

  The young receptionist waited for quite some time before speaking, apparently overtaxed by the single sheet of paper that lay before her. “Can I help you?” she then asked ever so politely.

  Jorden found that words were slow to come. “I'd like... Well we're here to...”

  “We've come to speak with Hura,” Taf said easily. “If she isn't too busy.”

  The receptionist stared for several moments, then nodded toward the aestri and stood. “Of course,” she said efficiently. “If you'll come this way. I'm sure that the shift assessment officer will see you quite soon. We are somewhat less busy with new arrivals at this time of the evening.”

  She led them from the room.

  So far so good, Jorden considered.

  III

  The waiting room of the assessment officer was somewhat more intimate. It was a normal size for a waiting room, and much the same style as a waiting room anywhere in a thousand worlds. There were even pamphlets and things that resembled magazines.

  In the two hours they waited, Jorden glanced through quite a lot of the material, most of which was not all that enlightening. There were documents concerning the spread of certain plant diseases in the farmlands of the Domain, and methods of weather prediction and alteration, and articles that told of ways to lessen the pain of severe injury. The list went on.

  Taf read as well, flicking with a claw through the pages of a document that Jorden had tossed to the floor. “A disease is killing the river squal of Venice,” she said. “That's terrible! If that came to Saljid...”

  Jorden did not the see the loss of the river squal as that catastrophic, yet those that drank the slimy, leggy things might think otherwise. “Terrible, yes,” he said without conviction, hoping that the assessor would see them soon.

  He did.

  The assessment officer was a tall forbidding male figure that also wore black, a black suit with black beard to match, and he frowned briefly when he first looked over the youth in the very damp and very stained kilt who waited with the aestri. Then he tried a more neutral expression and directed them into his office.

  It was a very bare office, and less than pleasing to the eye, and it had nowhere for Jorden to sit. The assessor, therefore, did not offer a seat, rather he allowed his subjects of assessment to stand while he sat at the beautifully polished desk. Like the receptionist's, however, it was quite barren. Taf saw little need to stand, and so she sat on the floor and began grooming. “And so you have come to seek audience with the great and only Hura Ghiana,” he said slowly. Jorden nodded. He wondered what other reasons brought the entities of the Domain within the castle. “You have a legitimate reason for such an audience, of course,” the assessor went on.

  The outsider hoped so, and now he had the opportunity to give it. It was not a time to be at a loss for words. “Yes, I've come to ask...”

  “I knew, of course, that you would have,” the assessor smiled. “No-one would be stupid enough to waste the time of the Great One, and thereby feel her wrath.” He relaxed back into his black chair. “And such reasons are unimportant to me, they are a matter to be taken up by the private secretary at a latter date... if you should make it so far. My duty is simply to determine if the applicant is a threat to the person of the Great One, although by that I do not mean in a physical way, of course.”

  “Of course,” Jorden echoed. Taf yawned.

  The man continued smiling his most unfriendly smile. “There are none who could be a threat in such a way, yet threats come in many forms, and those who distract the Great One from her work are the ones I fear. If she were to be distracted from her work on these shaking lands for example...”

  Jorden thought about the statement momentarily, the logic of it quite amazing. “But wouldn't my reason for coming here be relevant to whether I was a threat or not,” he said when the assessor paused for a breath. “My problem itself could well be a distraction...”

  His words faded as the bearded assessor smiled. “I doubt that you even know the real reason for your coming within the palace, boy” he said. “Very few ever seem to know why they truly come within these walls. The truth is known only by
the very old and the very wise, and she is Hura.”

  The assessment officer stood. “And I doubt that you have the intelligence to be a threat, little man,” and Jorden was indeed somewhat smaller in comparison, although that was obviously not what the man had in mind “But if you have any doubt, then I would advise that you leave the castle now while you have the chance.” Jorden shook his head, the officer nodding. “Then you may progress to registration, as can the aestri. Hura has a fondness for her kind that is beyond the understanding of such minor beings as ourselves.”

  He showed them the door.

  IV

  They were led to registration by a young woman who did not wear black. It was a lengthy journey along dim arched passages lit by simple oil lanterns on the walls, their red light adding to the dismal atmosphere of the stone passage.

  Registration itself was then the equivalent of taking a number in the waiting queue of various public services back in reality, and judging by the number of people within the substantial room, Jorden assumed it was quite a lengthy wait. He was not quite prepared for exactly how long, and was just the slightest bit surprised to find that the forty or more entities scattered about the room were those in the day-queue awaiting registration. It was also something of a shock to realize that many of the other entities in the room had also braved darkness to come to the castle earlier that very day, although most had come by means other than Jorden had available.

  Registration, therefore, took most of that day, or Jorden assumed it was day. It had been impossible to tell day from night while amongst the storms of Darkness of late, and inside it was even more difficult. Perhaps the castle worked on a continuous shift basis to cope with the number of applicants, Jorden thought. There was certainly nothing to indicate the time of night or day.

  They were eventually registered. The queue system itself worked upon a number between one and nine hundred and ninety-nine, and Jorden was given the number 237. Hura had last given audience to a squal farmer of Venice whose number had been 845. That made Jorden around four hundredth in line to be granted audience with Hura Ghiana. At least that was what he first suspected, but it was worse than that. Jorden was four hundredth in line to an interview with the office of the private secretary to Hura Ghiana, or in no line at all if he failed to inspire the secretary to the private secretary, as many did.

  He was also dismayed to learn that the Time of Darkness was in fact the castle's more busy season. There was, after all, very little for the inhabitants of the domain to do at such a time, especially those of the farmlands, and so many came to the castle toward the end of the time of light and spent much of the Darkness within its walls. Those who had required aid or advice the precinct kaedith could not provide had invested large portions of valuable savings into telportation spells to bring them to the court of Hura, and even latecomers from nearby Nowhere had not dared walking.

  Jorden asked the registrar if she could give any idea of a waiting period.

  She smiled, and unlike the initial assessor, she was quite pleasant. “You should receive an invitation to an interview with the secondary assessment office within the week,” she chirped, “and you will be appointed temporary quarters until that time. If you are found acceptable, then you may apply for permanent residency within the castle until such time as you are called for audience.”

  “Which will be...” Jorden prompted.

  The registrar shrugged. “Applications are graded by further assessment, and the queue is regularly altered to accommodate important matters. Should your application be of importance then you could well be called before the private secretary within a few weeks. Otherwise it will be...” The young woman checked a ledger that lay open upon the desk. “About twelve to fourteen weeks... unless the matter is somewhat trivial.” She smiled. “You would be surprised to know the number of people who come here without good reason, and such people often remain in the queue for as much as a cycle.”

  She recorded the name of Jorden Miles in a ledger.

  Jorden had a feeling he was there to discuss a very trivial matter.

  V

  Now Jorden knew why the castle was so huge. Firstly it had an enormous bureaucracy to house, and secondly it had the queue. If only the great witch-god Hura Ghiana could manage more than two or three audiences a week...

  Even the private secretary seemed to only interview one applicant per day, and only the secretary to the private secretary seemed to be up with the workload. Of course Jorden did not realize that there were several dozen secretaries and assessors within the office of the private secretary.

  Jorden was tiring of the system already, and the fact that he could be stuck in the castle for years, yet Taf seemed happy padding about the halls, her protectorate swinging around her neck. “This way,” the aestri chirped merrily to her friend as they walked the endless halls en route to the residential wing to apply for temporary accommodation. Taf had remembered the directions far more accurately than the depressed Jorden Miles, and he would have been lost several junctions back. “I hope they let us share a room,” the aestri went on.

  The outsider grunted. That was not a priority problem, although it would be a distraction for the long wait ahead, especially if Taf changed back to second form. “At the moment I'm just worried if we'll pass the next assessment...” If squal farming passed, surely he had a chance.

  They applied to share a room, and although the rather plump old woman who handled residency applications gave the two something of an odd stare, she seemed pleased at the saving of a room, even if the rooms of temporary accommodation weren't much to save. Indeed they were tiny, and that was being generous. Jorden had to stoop to enter and there was barely room for a first form aestri to turn around. It was was also bare and poorly ventilated, the thin hard bunks folding out from the wall taking most of the limited floorspace. Even Taf's hide aboard the Katerina seemed spacious by comparison. It was only for a few days, Jorden reminded himself, then they would receive slightly better lodgings, or they would be thrown out of the castle altogether. Or perhaps there were other fates for failed applicants, as the first assessment officer had hinted.

  Everyone in temporary accommodation spent most of their time in the common room, the private rooms too cramped for anything but sleep, and the talk bouncing about the group did not inspire Jorden whatsoever. There were people there with real problems, farmers who had lost everything to a new blight, and yet there were many who doubted they had legitimate claim to an audience with any but the lowest of the kaedith of the castle. Few actually expected to speak with the Great One herself.

  Except one man, a elderly man who often tapped his staff on the floor of the common-room and claimed to know of the reason for the earthquakes which had caused so much damage to the Domain. “'Tis the big worms,” he claimed. “Been more mexin about this Dark than e're before.”

  But nobody believed him, and he never received his audience.

  VI

  And Jorden Miles and Aestri Finesilver would not even receive their first interview, it seemed. Before the dawn of the following day, day and night being somewhat arbitrary within the castle, the two were ousted from their meagre lodgings and marched along the narrow corridors by two stern females who had very little to say.

  That was that, Jorden thought. It was a little much to expect after all: an audience with the local god. But he had been hopeful. Now they were apparently being thrown out... or worse.

  “I can explain,” Jorden began as the two women directed them through the narrow ways. “I was simply told that Hura could help. The Kaedith Ellen...”

  “You'll have to take that up with the private secretary,” said the elder of the two women, and the most annoyed. “All I know is that we've been woken up in the middle of our sleep period to see that you two are shifted to guest accommodation where you belong.”

  “If you could have asked for your correct lodgings in the first place,” began the other, “instead of that sew
er you were in...”

  “We were told to apply for temporary accommodation,” Jorden interrupted as he walked, as confused as ever.

  Taf growled, her ears pulled back and fur bristling ever so slightly. “If they would have told us to apply for nicer rooms then we would have.” She shook her head. “We would hardly have wanted that tiny room if we could have had better.”

  The words seemed the anger the older woman. “You can be funny if you like, but if you weren't guests of the secretary then I'd tell you what I really thought of people that waste my sleep period. Spend half the night roaming around the castle looking for a couple of...” Her words faded and she grumbled to herself.

  Jorden whistled a breath, unsure of exactly what was going on. It had been a long day yesterday, and he knew they both had been more than a little tired, but he was still confident they had followed the instructions given. It had been somewhat confusing, however. At least they were moving into a nicer part of the dark forbidding castle, a part that had white walls instead of black, the lamps did not smoke quite as badly, and the air was generally more breathable.

  Then they came upon another residence employee, one who was dressed quite nicely in a neat sky blue uniform – earth sky – with a white apron. It was a touch better than the pond green of the two who had escorted Jorden and Taf from the temporary quarters. The blonde in the blue uniform was also much more pleasant, and smiled when they came toward her.

  The woman in pond green didn't. “Here they are. Took long enough to find, and they didn't have any luggage so we wasted our time going to collect it...”

  “Sorry,” the girl in blue interrupted, a soft sweet voice that was not unlike Taf's, “there was a mistake in administration, or so I am told, and our guests were wrongly directed to the temporary quarters.” The two women in green frowned and grumbled. “Again my apologies for the trouble, and I've been told that your rest period has been extended until the first shift.”

  The women brightened noticeably with her words, gave two polite bows toward Jorden, and wandered happily away. The girl in blue continued smiling and watching until they were out of sight. Then she whistled in relief. “It's been one of those nights,” she said affably. “I am sorry that you've been inconvenienced in such a way.”

  Jorden was more at a loss for words than ever. “Well I... It wasn't really any trouble.” He wondered who the poor girl thought they were, and what she would say when she found out that they weren't. “My name's Jorden Miles,” he said with extreme difficulty, dreading having to be sent back to the temporary quarters, “and this is Aestri...”

  “Finesilver,” the girl said. “What other name could you have with such a beautiful coat.” And the maid actually knelt near to Taf and stroked the fine grey pelt.

  It was then that Jorden realized how desensitized he was becoming to the world of dream. His best friend was a cat, and it hardly mattered now except in the most intimate way, and now he had mistaken the maid for a girl. She was, of course, not a common female at all, and Jorden wondered how he could have missed the blatant signs.

  “I'm a brown,” the maid said as she stood, “and not a very pretty brown. My name is Moonwater.” She offered a hand of greeting first to the man, then the first-form aestri.

  Jorden took the hand and looked more closely at the blonde maid. It was her light hair, perhaps, aestri seldom had such hair. But the other signs were there, like the green slitted eyes and the jagged smile. “I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were aestri.” He knew how stupid that sounded. “I didn't expect...”

  Moonwater smiled. “Most people are surprised to find aestri working in the castle. There have been aestri here since the council ratification of the laws of Hura, but we are allowed only as assistants and maids of the inner court. The women of the queue residence don't really like us, but it is the wish of Hura...” She smiled again. “But I'm sure you don't wish to stand here discussing such trivial things. If you will come this way.”

  The aestri led on, the two grimy travellers in tow. “I am sure you both wish for a bath, and clean clothing, Jorden Miles. There is a bath in your room. You are sharing I believe.” She glanced back to catch the nods of Taf and the common man, and it seemed that she blushed. “It is not often that we see a man and an aestri in such company.”

  Jorden smiled with some difficulty. “We're friends from way back.”

  “I think he preferred my second form,” Taf admitted.

  The maid seemed surprised. “You couldn't look any better than you do now, not with that coat...”

  They came to a widening of the passage, a circular court with a gallery running the perimeter above. In the centre was a small fountain, and above that was a magnificent chandelier that did not burn oil, its crystal shards glowing with their own light. The two travellers paused briefly to look at the fountain and the pond and the plants that adorned the area, but not Moonwater. She had seen it all before.

  Moonwater did not stop until she had delivered them to their new quarters. “The bath is there,” she pointed, “and there are clothes for you here. I'll come back in about an hour to see if you wish for breakfast.” And with that she left them, the door thudding behind her.

  And Jorden knew that something was wrong, drastically wrong. The room told him that. It was simply not the room they should have been given. It was too large to begin with, and looked ready to accommodate an some foreign dignitary. There were three beds that he could see, though one may have been a couch. There was also a huge bath, or perhaps small swimming pool, in the centre of the pseudo-marble floor that continuously circulated warm and crystal clear water, and there were dozens of plush cushions and thick warm rugs and...

  “This isn't for us, Taf,” Jorden said. “Someone has screwed up badly and given us the royal suite.”

  The aestri smiled, she wasn't stupid. “Of course they have, silly, but are you going to tell? Enjoy it while you can, because they will soon find out their mistake.” And Finesilver sighed in contentment as she slipped within the warm waters of the bath.

  “Too true,” Jorden sighed, “but this is going to make the next few months in this place seem like absolute hell!”

  He sampled the liquid of a crystal decanter, then tested the nearest bed. It was soft, the softest thing he had felt since Taf's rat fur bed-crate.

  He glanced to the bath. He could really use a bath, and he might just get time for that before they realized their mistake.

 

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