"Falsifying information can be very valuable. As a trite example, pretending the competition is less impressive than it actually is, so they don't try as hard. It sounds like they weren't very clever about it, though." He shrugs. "I don't know the details of whatever scheme you seem to have been used towards and likely never will. Could've been any number of things."

"I think the guy I was delivering to thought it was meant to send them on a wild goose chase. Really stupid scheme, all things considered. I'm surprised I got in at all."

"I suspect the most successful schemes are the ones where nobody but the mastermind is sure anything is going on at all. So of course, we wouldn't have heard of them."

"I've seen some schemes where it was obvious something was up work out in my home country, but nobody was clear on the details.

Which ended up going really badly--"

He shrugs again. "As I said, I try not to get involved with those sorts of things. Too many people willing to kill if the stakes are high enough. Now, if you want something rare or difficult to get in a hurry, without fuss, I'm your man."

"Yeah, politics is a mess, staying far away if a good tactic.

And if you need something small transported, I'm happy to help. Or need someone to turn into a bird. That one comes up less often though."

"A bird could listen in places a woman could not. But I don't have urgent need for that, no. Perhaps you should visit my ship in Cardiff in a few days. I might have a job. Then again, I might not. We'll see when the time comes."

"True. Unfortunately, birds tend to get kicked out buildings and have a hard time operating doors.

I'll try and be in Cardiff around then. No promises-- job takes me weird places, can't really control where. But I'll try."

"Best of luck. Or perhaps more importantly, have fun!"

Rost heads back to the party.

While more party time would be fun, this probably a good time to slip out and head airfield-wards.

(Also, if people realise she and Rost were alone together-- them thinking they were having some fun, youknowwhatimean, wouldn't be a problem, but if they work out it's skulduggery, that would be bad.)

The airfield contains random postal workers, guards, and the untalkative witch that flew here with her. One of the postal workers nudges her.

"She's back. Pay up."

Untalkative witch rolls her eyes and flips a coin at the postal guy.

"Hello, good to see you all!"

She probably shouldn't find the bets on whether she'd return funny. But she does.

"Yeah, welcome back," her copilot says. "Man, this whole place is like one giant country estate aside from the factory, isn't it? So many frikkin' gardens and brickhouses, all perfect and tidy. Doesn't quite feel right."

"Yeah, and it's all very--" she makes looping motions with her hands "--spread out. Everything's all got margins and separations and stuff."

"Rich country lords in rich country houses. Probably think farming's quaint, and farmers stupid. S'not. Takes hard work and insight."

"God. Yes. Too many people think food, like, magically appears on plates with no effort."

"My folks are farmers. Lots of witches' folks are farmers 'cause most folk are farmers. You'd think they'd learn better. Maybe witches don't complain enough."

"I don't know if the 'witch' or 'farmer's kid' would cancel each other out not with those folk, whether they'd actually listen. Who knows. Nice thought, though."

"I didn't know how to read 'till I was 13 because nowhere villages in Normandy don't have books or schoolteachers. And then a priest taught me to read Latin, how damned useful of those god obsessed holy men."

A postal worker flinches at 'damned', and interrupts, "You're all set to go back, Miss Couriers! Whenever you're ready!"

"Right, let's get on with it."

"Don't you know that the best languages to read are ones you don't speak? That's definitely how reading works." She shakes her head.

"Let's head off."

They get into the air. It's still a significant Essence drain to fly these things, even though she's gaining it back very quickly even while awake.

"Latin's the godly language, or something, don't you know. Where'd you get the new digs on such short notice? I can't imagine you spent the whole time at a tailor."

"Which would make it a reasonable second thing to learn to read.

My magic is transformation based. So: magically transforming clothes. It's a neat party trick, if I do say so myself."

"Yeah, I'll say. I can sing to plants. Make them grow a day in an hour. I mean... Really? Oh, it's useful, sure, but, really?"

"...yeah. Like, super useful, not denying that, but not much of a thing you can show off.

Also, I bet singing to plants all day would get pretty boring."

"Kinda. Also, it uses a little of my magic, constant little trickle. They've got these big greenhouses growing rare and useful stuff in places. Medicines. Cork and rubber trees, whatever they're for. They'll pay me to park there and sing and read once in a while."