In the morning she uncurls herself and exits the sleeping area she had staked out and wanders into the main public area where she can catch up with Seelah and so on. 

"I had a weird dream last night," she remarks to her paladin friend. She couldn't spend the entire night talking to her mother, unfortunately. "I was in the house in the forest with my mother, like usual, except the house was different and the forest was different and my mother was different and my brother wasn't even there at all." 

"Doesn't seem that weird, as dreams go." 

"Yeah...the part of it that felt weird was...I dunno, something else, something that either was just a weird ineffable dream-feeling that I can't put into words, or I forgot what it was when I woke up." Shrug. "It wasn't a terrible dream, apart from the absence of brother." 

"Don't take that for granted. You hear about people getting terrible dreams from the Abyssal influence, sometimes." 

"Fair, fair." 

Anevia approaches their table. "Hey." 

"Hi!"

Anevia holds up a book. "Irabeth agreed to let you have the burglar. We're remanding him to your custody, so to speak. If he runs off before the crisis is over, he'll be pretty low-priority but we'll still arrest him again if we see him." She shrugs. "It's a pretty good deal. Criminals who end up in the regular penal battalions are a lot worse off." 

"Regular penal battalions?" Lusilla is not sure she approves of that. Why doesn't being in a story mean that things can be stories-for-small-children levels of morally uncomplicated Lusilla is not that naive. 

Anevia grimaces faintly. "They're...not always treated as well as they should be." 

Yep, that's as much of a subplot as Lusilla suspected. "Can you tell me more about that?" Wait. No. "After the current crisis is over, I mean?" 

Half-shrug. "I'm not sure I'm the best person to hear about it from, but I can...point you to some people who'll have, uh, useful perspectives." 

"Thanks." And then Lusilla tables it. She can revisit the matter when it comes up again, or after they've fixed the Wardstone, whichever comes first. "And yeah, I'd appreciate going down with you." 

Anevia nods and heads for the stairs to the basement. 

Lusilla follows, obviously. 

"Alright, we're here to make a deal," Anevia says to the two guards. "I'm remanding this guy to Lusilla, here," 

Lusilla waves. It's a good thing these guards are different from the ones she saw yesterday or she would have Questions. 

Anevia unlocks the cell door. The thief's eyes zero in on the book, but she doesn't immediately hand it to him. 

"Right now, we do, in fact, have bigger problems than larceny. For now, I'm remanding you to her," she jerks her thumb at Lusilla, "custody. If you run off before Kenabres is no longer under immediate existential threat by demons, we will arrest you again later. I am trusting her that you won't do that, or that if you do, she's responsible for finding you. Understood?" 

...This was not Woljif's best-case scenario. 

For one thing, he's not convinced that "Kenabres isn't under immediate existential threat by demons" is a state that has existed since the Worldwound opened; even less so that the grand high muckety-mucks would agree so when the definition matters to the terms of his sentence. 

On the other hand, it isn't continuing to be in a jail cell and it isn't the Condemned, so he isn't going to say anything to the lady's face. 

"Absolutely. I'll be the model of good behavior, on my honor." 

Anevia isn't especially impressed by this claim and she isn't bothering to hide it, but she is handing over his spellbook. And thieves' tools, slightly against her better judgment, but when explicitly paroling him as an adventuring-party burglar isn't the best time to impair him from burgling. 

Lusilla clasps her hands behind her back and fiddles with her fingers. Fingers are so good for fiddling with, overwhelmingly much better for that purpose than the tips of giant starfish arms. 

"I wasn't, like, looking for something that--stratified," she says when Anevia and the guards are gone. "Sorry."

What...does she expect from him, exactly? To say, "Naw, you're fine, this doesn't have any weird power dynamics at all?" 

Because, like, he will, but not in a way where it's information, just in a way where it makes the correct talky noises to make people not pissed off at him. 

"Hey, don't sweat it, chief. Anyway, down to business. I'm one of those guys that people around here call 'thieflings--'"

Amused: "But you definitely didn't steal anything."

"Not where the guards can hear about it, I didn't. Anyway, so we knocked over that shop--" 

"The one you were locked up for knocking over?"