"Huh. I'm not sure whether I'd bet on a Power against White, mana natures are roughly fundamental forces of the multiverse as we know it. But Correspondence doesn't have to beat that, probably, just whatever channeled it into its form."

"Also, sorry about outing you. Didn't seem like that was what you meant to sign up for."

"Eh, it's all for the dark. Friendlier than some wrestling matches I've had. Woulda begged off if I really cared."

She bumps a fist into the Dire Lady's shoulder. "And this way it comes with a story."

The promised round of drinks arrives, the bartender having held back while Weird Magic was going on.

"A good perspective to take." She'll take a glass of whatever's here, and take time for everyone to have a few swigs. But then she asks Sufi, "So, this must be common knowledge, but I don't have the first clue, and you seem likely to be sensible about it. What's the difference between Khanate and Londoner? Just the skin?"

Her drink is sweet wine grown from some unknown fruit, possibly plucked right from the orchards visible out the window. A few people have something different, though.

"Oh, damn. History. Okay, so, London was the Fifth City on the Bazaar. The Khanate was a colony of the Fourth. A prosperous, well-regarded one. And, 'course, rich Europeans newly arrived to the Zee set about deciding they were in charge now. And they've got guns. And boats. Lots of gunboats. So no lost love there. When that old bat Elizabeth left the Zee, we followed. Built ourselves an independent city out here."

"Ah hah. And you kept your distance, too, unless her new London is in the other corner of Eleutheria and no one's bothered to mention it."

"Aye, two Relays away from here. There's an embassy everyone quietly hates and a lot of fuss about who technically controls the Relay. They do and the politicians politely pretend otherwise, if you're in any doubt. London is the big fish in the pond for sure. We're not... Entirely capable of standing on our own. It grates, but few Londoners want to come out here, so we have room to be our culture. You should see new year's ceremonies at the Xanthous Moon..." Sigh.

"I'll see if I can manage to. Did you all build the city next to the Moon?"

"We built the damn moon!" She laughs.

The Bearded Captain and Khara appear to have agreed on a price. Khara cuts her thumb with a knife that appears from her sleeve just long to do that, and presses it against a paper. The Bearded Captain grumbles but accepts a similar blade from his escort to do the same.

"A bit of backrooms dealing in a bit, if you please, Dire Lady?" Khara asks pleasantly.

"Then I will definitely have to visit, that sounds a sight. But now some business. Thank you, Sufi."

She stands up and nods, then follows wherever the Captain is going.

There's a Backroom that the barman unlocks for them, a small lounge that becomes quite silent once the door is closed, with comfortable couches, an oak table, and a shelf of expensive-looking drinks.

"I know you have dealings with the one of the Crossroads."

"Owe a debt, do ye Londoner?"

"The information I seek would be the most convenient way to discharge it, preferably ahead of time."

"Now that is valuable information. I don't suppose you'll tell me what you need it for?"

"No."

"Not even a hint? They don't charge everyone the same prices, you see. I want to make sure my advice is good." A vicious grin.

"Let's just say I have an unreliable friend."

"Mirrors or bees?"

"Mirrors."

"...Ah. So you'll be wanting a... Sanatorium, let's say."

So-so gesture. "Friendship only goes so far. If there's another way, it's probably ruinous. So yes. But the price will remain."

"I think I know enough now to name a price for what you seek, and conveniently enough it's not really a secret. Just a bit of domain expertise."

"Oh?"

"You've got a Lustrum accent."

"Aye, I do."

"Promise to prospect a couple of rocks in an inconvenient location, and what I know of the Measurers' Prices is yours. Though I can't promise you'll be happy with it."

"I'll fly there myself, either charted or following you."

"What's stopping you from telling whoever you want about my rocks later?"

"Besides the fact that you'd hunt me down and kill me? This is Eleutheria, and I bet they're in a particularly unpleasant corner."

Khara stares at him with narrow eyes. "...Well, that's what she's here for, I suppose." And a nod to the Dire Lady.

"Nothing stops you from breaking a promise made in a verity circle. But if you don't mean it at the time, you won't be able to make it. If that's of interest."

She's missing a bunch of subtext, and some outright text. But she can work it out later.

"Swear to me you fully intend to prospect my two rocks in good order and faithfully under reasonable conditions, and I'll tell you the prices one might pay within the same circle."

"Just how big are these rocks? You sincerely expect this isn't some elaborate deathtrap?"

"Bigger than a homestead, smaller than a village. No worse than usual for here."

"Okay, deal. You'll repeat this in the circle."

"And I'll answer a couple of the questions I see burning on your lips too while we're at it, as payment if you'd like." Khara grins at her.

"Almost a waste, the amount I don't know. Let's see, which explanations do I most need... Measurers, Crossroads, Mirrors, Bees, in descending order. As much as you think is fair to give me."

Khara cackles. "Your answers after the ceremony. We'll be standing so intimately together, whispering secrets... It's almost a shame I haven't a fishing net to give you~" She says sweetly to the Bearded Captain.

"I've neither ring nor gown for you, no." He rolls his eyes and sighs slightly. "Let's get this done and then both go on our way, shall we?"

Both look to the Dire Lady.

She circles the room, tapping with the cane, making a new circle as large as will fit - which still isn't large. It flares as she finishes, and she steps back.

"As and when, gentlemen"

The pair step forward and grimace. Khara promises the task at hand is no more perilous than any other in Eleutheria. The Captain promises to make a reasonable effort etc etc etc.

"Five prices cover what you'd seek. Perhaps the kindest is Chrysanthemum - inspiration and innocence and wonder. Seven visions of distant lands, shining memories of the beautiful things of the sky- They'll take it all from you as payment for services rendered. The Nephentine, you haven't got the balls for. You've got to murder someone to pay it. There and then, too, so one of your crew or an unlucky passenger. Kaleidoscopic - a bounty of dreams, they'd siphon from you, both past and future and literal and metaphorical. If you're a particular friend of the Waif, she can pay for you, but most people don't qualify. And finally, refuse the rest... They'll take what they want straight from your heart and soul. I'm told it's rather excruciating."

The Bearded Captain takes notes in a shaky shorthand.

"Thank you. Do let me know when you're free to escort me to your find. Or send charts. I'll... I'll let you be.

He bustles out of the room in a hurry.

Khara smiles. "The Measurers, was it? I don't think they're actually your most important concern here. So long as you refuse their charity, they keep to themselves."

"Charity and prices, magically enforced and hard to renegotiate? Sounds like a normal day's work, where I came from. Perhaps I should be running away, but on the other hand perhaps I should be jumping at the chance."

"I suppose if you're used to the game you can still try to play with no idea what the cards mean and only the one chip." A pointed finger to her sternum. "The Measurers are minions of the Halved, he who still rules this place and hates light. They traverse invisible distances that manifest to us as the Crossroads. It all comes down to Powers with the ability to set their own laws of nature, and those that have to learn all the deadly intricacy like us, in the end."

"Some learn the law, some evade it, and some change it. I'm an advokist - all three at once is my job. But yes, I'll need orienting before I go back to playing for big stakes, I know. But less, I believe, than you think I'll need."

Disbelieving snort. "Mirrors and bees, was it? Parabola, the dreamland of the Neath, was accessible through mirrors. Up here, it's only in especially dark and deep areas that they serve the same role. I'm sure you know nightmares come hand in hand with dreams, and the worst sort is what happens if you enter Parabola and don't keep your head about you. Bees referred to Devils in our wordplay." She stops short suddenly, saying nothing more on bees. "One last piece for you. The Correspondence, what do you know so far?"

"Native language of Powers, possible for humans to understand, with difficulty - if not quite speak, as I understood it - and use to modify the laws Powers set. It's on my list of things to investigate when convenient."

"Write, not speak. Humans can sometimes write Correspondence. Usually it ends up with fire and explosion instead of whatever you were hoping for. Curving sigils, they are, most often circular with fractal flourish and flair carrying almost infinite amounts of meaning in a single symbol. There's a difference between statement and enforcement. You'll sometimes find sigils out there, there's one down the road a bit on a five-branched tree, and the right academic type will buy rubbings or sketches - safely taken in several pieces - from you. Oh, and get a gun for Eagle's sake. I think that's about all I've got in terms of general life advice, hon. Good luck out there."

"Last week, I'd never seen a gun in my life. And with the closest thing that passed for one, I'm a terrible shot. If you don't mind answering a last, trivial question: what do you think of the whole 'Dire Lady', 'Bearded Captain' convention? Since you clearly don't hold to it yourself."

"Londoner nonsense. Anyone can be anything, we don't judge. Get your twig replaced with a chalice and start calling yourself Madam Fantastique instead of Clark Bolter, who cares, you do you. The Empyrean isn't silly enough to do any of that."

"I'm getting a favorable picture of Empyreals, to be sure. I will certainly have to visit your home-made moon, at the bare minimum."

(Partly because she was intensely curious what sort of mana it was attracting, or producing. But also for the reasons Khara'd understand.)