That too.

Terrence's mouth opens and closes. Improbably, he is surprised. Inaaya has hit him where it matters.

"That's - that's very different." He's tight-lipped now. Frustrated.

Oh no.

]"In what way... is it different?" he asks. "And-- I'm sorry if it seemed like I accused you of mind control, or something. For the record... It isn't. I'm pretty sure liked you from the time I saw you, you're a smart and attractive man."

Ugh, wow, he's said enough things he could do without saying to last a month.

Terrence is formulating his thoughts. He stops and blushes some more and smiles a little. "Well - no, I fig- well, you're not so bad yourself, you know."

WHY is this HAPPENING. Terrence you are NOT answering the question of how it is different.

Oh. Well, he does not need to tell Terrence he has "a way about him" or other distracting sentimental nonsense.

"Thank you. I was asking how it's different."

"Look. If that book is evil, then... then art is evil. Do you know about Florence Syndrome? Travellers from wide and far faint, or hallucinate, or have great senses of the divine, or what have you, upon gazing upon the art of the city of Florence. The buildings. The same of walking in Jerusalem, or Paris. People change their lives after seeing a giraffe or a skyscraper. Do you see what I mean?"

"If the King in Yellow is dark magic, then Florence is dark magic. Then... the work of people, the things that make life worth living, those things are dark magic."

"What are any of us to do with that?"

"It's magic. I know because I remember every tome I read by accident, before I believed, and... their being metaphysically true had barely anything to do with the quality of the prose. Or I'd have stocked nothing but magic books. I hate to sound like this, but people who know true things about magic-- don't always have particular talent."

Or good ideologies. Many of them are terrifying authoritarians.

"Furthermore, most art does not try to eat my brain when I touch it."

"Right. Admiring beauty, experiencing awe, is different from... having your brain eaten."

"Inaaya, I'm going to be honest, I don't know how magic works. But - and please, I mean this in a respectful way, you clearly know more than any of us when it comes to this domain, but based on what you've said - I don't think you do either. That does sound bad. But I've read it and I can't call it evil based on that alone. Maybe it overwhelmed you, all at once. Maybe it's a... protection, of sorts, against trying to consume its contents too hastily. Maybe the copy you tried it on was unrelatedly cursed. I don't know! There are many explanations."

"I don't know what to tell you. That's the best I've got. But I've read it and it was singular in every way as a form of art. That much I can say for certain. More singular than Florence. More singular than Jerusalem. I should hardly be surprised if it has strange magical properties. But those would not even be the important thing about it, if it does."

"If it's so beautiful and enriching-- why is its other proponent Roby. Who-- murders people and is planning a ritual to end the world. Neither of which you endorse, obviously."

"He worships the King like a god," Oscar says disapprovingly.

"I'm not offended," Inaaya says evenly. "I know I don't know much about what's going on. But I don't actually have to be certain to say that it sure looks really bad."

"I'm not certain. I don't know for sure. We might never know for sure. But I observe that when you read that book, your dreams changed, your personality changed, you're currently obsessed with it, the other person we know to have read it now does murders because he thinks that's what the King would want, and it tried to eat my brain."

"The King in Yellow has plenty of proponents. Talbot Estus, for one. ...I, um, it's a powerful text, and it is banned - I shouldn't be surprised if its readership is more renowned, among, uh, more susceptible types. People predisposed to unusual ideas."

Terrence sure sounds to be making this up as he says it and then immediately deciding it's correct.

"It's not as though lending libraries can hand out copies to all the level-headed folk." What a nice world that would be. "Look, I... I do see why you're concerned. The way you've described it - yes, that looks bad."

"But - none of you have read it, and I have. It makes sense to me."

"One of the things that worries me, actually, is how people who have read it latch so hard onto it, and nobody who hasn't can see why."

"...I mean. I can try and explain. Do you want me to try and explain."

"Sure. Pitch me."

Yeah! Okay! As it happens, Terrence has recently written a whole essay about why people should read The King In Yellow.

He leaves out the part which was most of the essay, about the importance of reading banned books, since it's not particularly relevant here, and goes to the other sides - its use of language, its use of metaphor to get at fundamental truths about art at the constructed nature of reality, the beauty of its world, its nigh-infinite allegorical depths. How it conjures ideas with words in a way unique to it among texts. 

Unique? That's a strong claim. Is Terrence prepared to defend it? 

He's ready to try. I mean, he's read a lot of books, and a lot more about the history of thought around language. He can quote sections of it but they don't make a ton of sense outside of the rich context.

"And it's not - it's not everyone. You read some of it, didn't you, Oscar?"

"I did. To be honest I thought it was mired in turn of the century cliché."

Terrence giggles a little at Oscar's remark.

"Well, there you go. Not infatuated, then."

"...that's true. Not infatuated."

"I'm not going to lie, I think it still looks really bad. But thank you for thinking about it."

Two days later--

A knock comes at the door to Ruby's house.

Technically it's not his house, but there's no sign of Ruby answering the door, so he may as well make sure the postman or whoever isn't left waiting.