..It is very reasonable for Inaaya to have that knife, but still.

Terrence brought a lighter. And a book. (And a nice suit and a warm coat.) He's ready to do crimes.

Oscar's going to try to look inconspicuous and try not to make too much of the friendly smile Terrence aimed at a whistle-bearer. Is this another mind control thing?

Sal glances out the window and--

Green and black light slants down through the canopy of leaves to the floor. You walk on soft moss that surrounds the trees. Old oaks make a city here, quiet but watchful. Every detail is in place. You imagine who you might meet here in this fairy tale forest, wild Cernunnos the hunter, the Faerie Queen with her donkeys, hobgoblins and sprites, the wolf at the banquet all tooth and cunning, and by thinking of them you bring them closer.

Someone falls into step beside you and it’s another you imagined, the rogue, the highwayman, Wat or Will or one of those. He strides along, capable and sure, rolling on the balls of his feet with an easy gait — longbow across his back, dirk in his belt. He’s grinning. No he isn’t, you can’t keep up this conceit.

The old forest is gone and, as it is, your companion becomes — who is it? If you’re Pilgrim then Faithful? Vain Confidence? But with this hesitation you’re alone and the welter of staging is replaced by bare boards, your plot by an empty page. Someone else directs your dream and you can’t escape this with the distractions of fairy tales and allegories.

You’re walking to Him.

She's had this vision before, in her sleep, she's sure of it. It disturbed her, then, but it didn't make her lose her nerve.

It still doesn't. But it comes closer this time.

"So, do we have any specific plans, or are we just following our hearts?"

"Should we - I don't know, gather information? Talk to who we can?"

"Find out where at the lake the house we're looking for is."

"...That's a good first step."

"Tomorrow we go to the house, if we're questioned we tell them that -- well, that Der Wanderer informed us we'd be here, that's straightforwardly true -- we'll have to do something with all of," head tilt at bag of explosives, "our things--"

"I mean, London parties always have duffel bags," he suggests.

"I want to know what we're walking into. If everyone in attendance knows what's going to happen."

"... Will it change what we do, if they don't?"

"Well, it'll help us blend in."

It'll change how guilt-ridden Sal will feel if they have to blow them all up.

"Ruby was invited and had no idea about it."

"Ruby knows Roby but... That's true."

"On the other hand, an actress stabbed Edwards on stage repeatedly and nobody in the audience screamed."

We're doing, like, anything to make sure we're not tipping our hand to the fellow with the whistle over there, right?

They're speaking quietly in Polari but that might not be good enough.

Does he seem to have heard us?

He does not.

"...And the creatures didn't seem to upset them either." (He's going to get a bit euphemistic because he doesn't know the Polari for "byakhee".) "Admittedly it's disturbing to see them all entranced."

"We spend the night -- either at an inn or at the house, both options have their drawbacks -- and then the next day... ritual, I suppose. We'll need a chance to set things up beforehand."

Polari or no, he's not saying 'explosives' out loud.

"I'd recommend an inn. I'd trust the doors there more."