"Wonder how Absalom feels about this."

"Probably fine as long as they're making money. ...I guess maybe someone's eyeing them?"

"This is starting to remind me of annoying logic puzzles about what a bunch of people know about what everybody else knows."

"There's a reason we usually stay out of politics."

"Don't blame you a bit."

"I guess we should wait until it reaches Taldor and then - report in. Maybe ask politely for a little more information."

"Convenient that Osiriani has a one-word please. In drow it's three so our Sendings are very brusque. In Elven it's four unless you abbreviate! Probably my surface Elven's out of date though. Or maliciously erroneous depending on where my teacher learned it."

"What, four? I guess Elves aren't often in a hurry."

"They're short words but Sending isn't counting syllables."

"Well. In the morning I'll ask if there's someone we should report to in Andoran or in Absalom and what to do if the ship attacks or is attacked, please."

"Mm-hm."

And they sleep. Uneasily.

Or not at all.

Belmarniss wakes up well before dawn, her sleep schedule having continued to waver wildly around in the sunshine. "- you're up early."

"Guess it's all this - weather." He gestures vaguely. The weather is totally unremarkable.

"Sea air disagrees with you? Makes me want cavefish stirfry, personally.

You okay?"

"It would be pretty upsetting if Osirion's orchestrating all this for whoknowswhat reason and we're told to lay off and go home."

"It'd... complicate your Taldor charges thing? It'd be sort of generally frustrating? It would cast aspersions on the purity of the Osirian project?"

"I guess it'd do those things. Mostly -" Shrug. "Something dumber than that. I'd - I'd sort of feel like I ought to go 'well, fuck Osirion, then," and go warn whoever I should warn. And I wouldn't do it."

"Why not?

- you can, like, ignore the questions if they're too close to whatever your deal is, I guess, just because I dump tragic backstory on anyone I can hold a pleasant conversation with doesn't -"

"What answer do you figure Fazil would give you?"

"Answer to what?"

"Why we should ignore the mess and go home, if it turns out Osirion's making it."

"Uh, something something if their fancy hats haven't gone up in flames they're still lawful and his job is to do what they say so the whole machinery doesn't gum up under the logistical weight and information handling disaster of debating strategy with every random cleric?"

"I guess."