[Indigo]

Sometimes people who knew Amarantha were surprised to learn how much she liked the Golden Thread Festival, though she'd often thought that a lot of them were simply confused by her fashion sense and imagined that she was only interested in death-related subjects. Or at least subjects that were less brightly colored than this. True enough that most of the decor wasn't really to her aesthetic taste, but that wasn't why she liked it, or not the only reason—there was something about the aggregate, the glitter and the street food and the parade, the celebratory mood that seemed almost to permeate the air, that filled her up and made her happy. Not to mention all those conversations with tourists, fleeting moments of connection with people she'd never see again.

This year wasn't quite going that way. This year something complicated had happened in the museum's hierarchy that nobody had bothered to explain to her, and while she and Grethel were usually pretty good at deciphering these things, this time they hadn't been able to work it out, but whatever the reason, someone had been needed to show around this mysterious guest during the festival—he was some sort of donor, maybe, or tangentially involved in some research, somehow.

Amarantha, lover of strangers, had volunteered. She hadn't expected him to be so unpleasant.

His name was Rodion-at-Sea, which she privately thought was probably an ill-conceived pseudonym, and he was a gousankke, which wasn't itself a problem; she'd never met one before, and while she admitted to having some preconceived notions she was looking forward to being disabused of them. And it wasn't that he seemed to look down on her exactly, except in the literal sense, because he was huge. It was just that he walked through the city like he was being held at gunpoint, and faced every attraction she pointed out with a kind of grim, disinterested acknowledgement. He hadn't appeared to be listening when she told him her name.

At the moment he was following her in the general direction of the parade signups, but he didn't look at her, just gazed stoically into the distance. Not that she could easily read an expression on that face anyway.

[Indigo]

It was only ten in the morning, and Beatrix was having a day.

Ever since that awful, awful party, she'd been more or less on the run, and she had become as accustomed to it as could be expected. This past couple of months she had actually managed to stay in one place, to dream about a settled life of the kind she'd lost her grip on two years ago—a foolish dream, she now knew, but to live without any dreams had become unbearable and so she'd allowed it to happen. She had momentarily believed herself safe.

This morning, waking with that same feeling of security, she'd come out onto her balcony without hiding her face. She rose early, and the chance of anyone recognizing her at this point and in this place was so low to begin with, and gods, she was just so tired. Putting on an illusion before you so much as opened a curtain, every day for the rest of your life, was no way to live.

Just her luck that one of the damn wizard's servants passed under her balcony at that hour. They were in town for the festival, from the way they were dressed, and they'd locked eyes with her for a full ten seconds before sprinting away down the alley. The rest of her time had been spent gathering her things together, destroying what she couldn't bring. She'd jogged a truly unfortunate distance in shoes not remotely designed for it.

In the celebratory crowd she was, for the moment anyway, just another tourist; the suitcase she pulled behind her might indicate that she hadn't planned very well, but nothing else. She didn't bother putting her illusion on, though, because the people hunting her already knew she was here. Might as well save her energy.

No, she'd come for a more mundane disguise: the Golden Parade. She'd made sure to stuff a few appropriate garments in her case before fleeing, and while she wasn't likely to win any prizes, she would at least have an excuse to wear a mask for a while until she figured out what to do next.

[Indigo]

Amarantha had just about given up on making conversation with her guest, and, admittedly, her attention was drifting from him a little, so when the vast wall of reptile next to her suddenly stopped moving it registered only as a background detail. It wasn't until a rough, accented voice behind her said, "Miss Bartlett, wait," that she realized what had happened and jogged back over to him.

"I didn't think you knew my name," she said, mostly joking, but Rodion was gazing off to one side at something she couldn't pinpoint. "What is it?" she added.

"It appears," he said, "that I have business to attend to, after all. I apologize for the interruption." He didn't sound as if he particularly meant it; more like he was trying to put a veneer of politeness over whatever it was he was doing. "Feel free to return to whatever it is you would be doing if I were not here."

"Business?" Amarantha said. "It's a holiday."

"Not everyone is so excited by your seraphs. Farewell, Miss Bartlett."

Before he could do more than turn away, she reached out and laid a hand on his flank, which stopped him in his tracks and felt like a massive transgression. It had been an impulsive decision, and she didn't actually like Rodion—he hadn't given her much to like, with his sudden arrival and thorough silence. But this was strange enough behavior to raise questions for her, and what kind of scientist would she be if she didn't pursue answers?

"I'm afraid I'd be neglecting my duties to the museum if I abandoned you in a foreign city in the middle of a busy public event." She grinned. Her teeth were very sharp and very white, and probably not all that impressive to someone like this, but it was important to make an effort. "Lead the way."

Rodion stared at her for a moment. "I hate that man," he growled, not quite under his breath. "He is always right. Very well, Miss Bartlett. Follow me."

[Indigo]

"It would be nice," Amarantha said as she followed Rodion, "if you would explain to me what's going on." She'd given him a few minutes to start talking, but he only kept navigating his careful way through the crowd, as if that took up all his attention. Which didn't seem all that likely; the crush hadn't reached its peak yet. Which meant he was still determined to be a jerk.

"I am not nice."

"Evidently."

"Just as you are not patient." He sidestepped a group of children who weren't paying any attention to the movement of the crowd. "Miss Bartlett, do you believe in fate?"

She tucked in her elbows to avoid someone's wide skirt. "No."

"Good. Nor do I. You would be amazed at the number of people who believe that seeing the future is proof of predestination." Everything that came out of his mouth sounded at least a little scornful, but it seemed to ratchet up a notch. "I am relieved to learn we won't have to have that conversation. As for my business, a fr—an associate of mine occasionally has premonitions, and I am here to intervene in one of them, apparently."

"What do you mean, apparently?"

"My associate's visions are not a perfect system. The future is changeable, obviously, or I would not be here to change it. Very occasionally the things he foresees do not occur. But his rate of success is high enough that I arranged to be here, in order to do what needs to be done."

Amarantha allowed another pause to stretch between them while she considered that. You heard rumors about this kind of thing, but she'd never actually met anyone who could see the future—it was always a friend of a friend of a friend. Of course in this case it was an acquaintance of a stranger, and therefore not necessarily more credible, but if he was here acting on this alleged vision then at minimum he thought there was something to it. Or he was messing with her. But he didn't seem like a fun enough kind of person to be doing that.

[Indigo]

"Give me some specifics," she said, finally. It wasn't what she'd come here to do, except in a very abstract and indirect way, but she wasn't about to be led around by the nose by some random asshole who'd decided to rope her into his weird plans against her will. She had less than no interest in playing Rodion's ingenue.

He turned and glared at her, as if he'd been hoping she would just go away. She showed him her teeth again.

"There is a woman here," he said, "who is going to attempt to sign up for this parade of yours, and for her to do so will result in disaster. She will be wearing a red sun hat and pulling a rolling suitcase, assuming we catch up to her before her costume change. I believe I spotted her a few moments ago, but if you should see her you are welcome to intervene yourself."

"Did you friend who foresaw this ever think about reaching out to this woman ahead of time, so she could deal with the mystery disaster on her own terms?"

"We're not friends," Rodion snapped, although this seemed to Amarantha to be the least important part of what she'd said. "I don't know what he may have considered. I made arrangements to be here as soon as he told me about it."

"Then you could have contacted her. If she's old enough to sign up for the Golden Parade, she's certainly old enough to make her own decisions." Amarantha had a policy of not swearing during work hours, even if she was spending those work hours outside of the museum itself and on what should have been her day off anyway, but she was beginning to have some difficulty with it. When his expression didn't change, she added, "It would have been less work for you, too," in the hope that this would be more convincing.

"Humans and their ilk cannot be trusted to make their own decisions," he said, as if this should be obvious. "Assist me or don't. You are beginning to irritate me."

[Indigo]

He had begun to irritate her a while ago, and her professional courtesy could only take so much. She'd been severely misled about what she was signing up for. She said, "Good luck, then, Mr. Rodion-at-Sea," and walked off in another direction entirely, scanning the crowd as she went. Whether or not she could actually prevent this ambiguous disaster, at least she could try to find the mystery woman before she was accosted by a giant reptile with a superiority complex.

Rodion made no attempt to stop her, and his visibility made him easy to avoid, so Amarantha could focus on her actual goal instead of worrying about running into him again. Despite his claims he hadn't actually been moving in the right direction for the parade signups, which also made her life easier; she could head that way and lie in wait.

For the first time since arriving here today, she actually began to relax. Sure, she was technically on some sort of mission now, but she was no longer weighed down by her unwanted guest's presence, and she could enjoy the festival a little on her way. Once or twice she allowed herself to get pulled into conversations, giving people directions and then asking what they were up to or answering questions like "Why is there a skull in your hair?" When she was close enough that she could see the tent in question, she stopped at one of the stalls to buy snacks.

Despite her best efforts to keep an eye on her surroundings, she ran into someone the moment she turned back around. "I am so sorry," she said, and then paused. The woman in front of her wore a red sun hat, and held the handle of a rolling suitcase, and while the hunted expression hadn't been part of Rodion's description, it did seem like a pretty good indicator that someone was on the brink of disaster.

"It's fine," the woman said, and started to leave for the parade signups.

Amarantha grabbed her arm. She felt just as weird about it as when she'd done it to Rodion, but this was arguably for a better reason. "Can I talk to you for a minute? I think we might have something to discuss."

[Indigo]

It didn't take as much persuading as Amarantha would have expected to convince the woman to follow her into a quiet corner away from the festivities. She didn't know what to make of that, but she filed it away for future consideration nonetheless as she explained the situation at hand.

When she'd finished, the woman blinked at her a little as if not quite sure it was over, and sighed heavily when no more information was forthcoming. "Nothing can ever be simple for me anymore, can it? Very well. What do you suggest I do, then, if we're to believe what you were told? I can't hang around in the open, so I'll have to pursue some other possibility."

"Why not?" The woman showed no sign of being unsettled by the crowd.

She sighed again. "If I told you that my name is Beatrix Pinkwater, would that mean anything to you?"

"No."

"Good," Beatrix said. "Maybe you can help me. I got into trouble with some wizards a few years back, and I've been on the run from them for a while. This morning one of them spotted me. I haven't seen any of them since, but I know they'll be looking for me, and I need some way to throw them off my scent. If you're game."

Well, it wasn't what Amarantha had come here for, that was for sure. But hey, she'd gone into the sciences to better the world, and this could be considered an oblique way of doing that. Also, it sounded exciting. Ever since she'd started corresponding with those naturalists in Tuun, she had to admit she'd been a little jealous of all the interesting quasi-magical problems they seemed to be having. Only a little. But still.

"Of course," she said.

Beatrix nodded with a solemnity that didn't suit her face. "How much magic do you know?"

"Just some basic shapeshifting." She turned her hand into a paw and back again to demonstrate. "No more than anyone else you pulled off the street."

"I can probably work with that," Beatrix said, and opened the suitcase.

[Indigo]

Rodion did not feel guilty about lying to the museum woman. He had real work to do in this city, work that depended on arriving in a timely manner without a chirpy little scientist trailing him like an excitable housepet. This was not the time or the place for the casual obliteration of innocents; underhanded methods had been necessary. He'd do it again in a heartbeat.

Admittedly, he did feel slightly bad about invoking Perrin to do so. Not that Perrin would ever know, or that his opinion mattered anyway, and since Rodion hadn't mentioned him by name there was no way this could harm his reputation. It simply felt unprincipled to drag him into an operation he knew nothing about, even in this limited way.

And he could be sure Perrin knew nothing about this operation, because otherwise he would have been forced to have a tedious argument about it by now.

The arrangement with the museum had been a poor choice. Rodion was unfamiliar with Aldrect for the most part—even after his exile he'd done his best to avoid such large settlements—and he'd needed a guide to steer him into the heart of the festival, one no one was likely to examine closely after the fact. But there had been other options. He had not accounted for the curiosity of scientists, and for that matter had not expected someone so high-level to be assigned to the menial task of escorting a tourist around a strange city. Errors he should not have made, but he couldn't do anything about it now.

Stealth was impossible for a being like him, even in this crowd, and for a fraction of a second he caught himself wishing he'd accepted Perrin's offer to teach him to take human shape. Such a disguise was beneath him, of course, and he dismissed the thought immediately. It did not trouble him to have had it. Everyone had stupid ideas now and again.

[Indigo]

This he would not admit to unless severely pressed, but he was beginning to wish he'd done more research into this holiday. He had some vague familiarity with the story as it was known to the gousankke, but that differed from this celebration, and while he was not interested in the festival for its own sake—he'd never been one for frivolities like this even before entering human territory—there was something unsettling about being surrounded by so much symbolism and not knowing exactly what it meant.

It was also interfering with his focus. Now was not the time for pointless musing. Bartlett's little tour of the festival hadn't included the people he was looking for, which was only to be expected, but nor had it included anything that indicated to him where they might be. He was reduced to cutting through the crowds in a pattern that looked intentional but was really just an attempt to get a good look at every odd corner without drawing too much attention to himself.

He was beginning to think he'd have to find a phone and call Perrin, tell him about all this after all and see if he'd seen anything that might help, some scrap of a vision that meant nothing without context only Rodion could give. Unlikely, but it had happened before. He should have asked Bartlett to show him the pay phones.

A gaggle of teenagers burst out from behind a tent and nearly ran into him, dispersing around him like water, distant shouts issuing from whence they'd come. One or two other groups followed, some of them adults. An intentional clearing of an area, then, rather than the aftermath of a teenage prank. He tilted his head and listened.

Yes, there it was: somebody shouting about the Lambastia Science Division. This was where he needed to be. He adjusted his course and picked up the pace.

[Indigo]

Beatrix had given Amarantha a loose rundown while she changed: some years ago Beatrix, a skilled practitioner of illusion, had passed herself off as a necromancer in order to recover stolen property she wouldn't give any details on. Her masquerade had gone awry and she'd drawn hostile attention. How that had led her to where she was now was a little less clear to Amarantha, but she'd met her share of hostile magic users herself and had a basic grasp of why such care was needed.

It appeared that, in addition to her magical talents, Beatrix was a master of mundane disguise; she'd cobbled together something resembling the uniforms of official festival staff for Amarantha to wear. The disguise wasn't a perfect fit—Amarantha was both shorter and rounder than Beatrix, and while magic could make it look the right shape it still felt strange—but it would be good enough to fool anyone who wasn't set on scrutinizing her. For Beatrix's part, she'd casually raised a hand and her clothes had turned into a perfect replica of the uniform. It was, she said, easier to maintain at close range.

The two of them were still headed in the general direction of the signup booth. It was getting quite close to the start of the parade now, and most people were starting to move in that direction, providing them with cover. Once they arrived they'd simply pass themselves off as staff and get a good look at whatever presumably wizard-related disaster threatened to unfold, and adjust their plans from there.

As they neared the tent, a small tributary of people crossed into the crowd's flow from another part of the festival, leading to a handful of collisions and making Beatrix stop and look around nervously. Then they heard the voice.

"Please vacate this area, citizens! This is sanctioned by the Lambastian Science Division, do not be alarmed, this is just a routine inspection."

"Inspection of what?" Beatrix murmured, glancing down at Amarantha.

"I don't know," Amarantha said slowly. She wasn't directly involved with the Science Division, not having the temperament for government, but it necessarily had some control of the museum where she worked, so she kept up with its affairs pretty well. And she hadn't heard anything about this. She couldn't even think of anything at the festival that would require scientific inspection.

"Amarantha?"

Without even realizing it, she'd started to drift in the direction of the voice. She looked back at Beatrix. "I'm sorry, I think I'm going to have to see what this is about. It doesn't seem quite right to me. But, listen, I'm sure this will only take a moment, I'll be right back—"

"I'll come with you," Beatrix said. "For one thing, that illusion will dissolve if you get too far from me, and for another, you've offered me your help and we don't even know each other. I owe you as much. Besides—" She smiled for the first time Amarantha had seen. "I'd much rather deal with someone else's problems, for a change."

Investigate Commotion

[Indigo]

As a scientist with an overly frilly manner of dress, Amarantha wasn't in a position to judge these two for their appearances either way, but that didn't stop her from squinting uncertainly at them. She was vaguely aware of Chaos, but she'd never heard of anyone studying them. Or...pre-studying them, if the purpose of this exercise was to verify that they were real. The possibility didn't surprise her, exactly—she'd seen too many strange things for any particular one to come as a shock—but she'd never considered it in much detail before.

"I'd like to help—" she started, and a hand came to rest on her shoulder, startling her.

"We both would," Beatrix said. "I think we'd do better backstage, don't you, Amarantha? I don't quite trust myself to pick out people in a crowd. I'd be far too worried about making the wrong call."

"I—yes, of course." She'd been about to turn them down, but of course, this would get them into exactly the place they were trying to go with far less subterfuge required. It was also vaguely possible that this had something to do with the mysterious disaster, now that she thought about it. And she'd have a hell of a story to tell when she went back to work after the holiday. Probably.

"Great," said the blond woman—Dr. Wiks, that was it, she'd been involved with that strange incident last year and Amarantha had stood behind her in the coffee line at an academic conference once. Hard to say what she actually did, but then a lot of people would say that about Amarantha, too. Something to do with Chaos, apparently. "Thank you for your cooperation. Follow me."

She headed toward the tent at a brisk, businesslike pace. A few minutes of observation had demonstrated the Beatrix could easily equal it, but she hung back a little, and Amarantha stuck by her side. "I didn't expect you to want to go along with this."

"We can slip away from supervision easily enough, if it comes to that," Beatrix said cheerfully. "Or argue that we'd do better if we split up. Simple."

"That's not quite what I was thinking of..."

[Indigo]

Beatrix shrugged one shoulder. "I did something very similar to this, before. And I've spent so much time running around in disguises without anyone else on my side. It's a nice change to have a partner in crime, so to speak, even a temporary one. Shall we?"

Dr. Wiks ushered them backstage and paused to frown at the signup sheet, sending a prickle of nerves up Amarantha's spine that she couldn't quite explain. After a moment she directed the two of them further toward the dressing rooms, with a few loose instructions that Amarantha could honestly have come up with herself—ask about any signs of Chaos-specific features or strange behavior, be discreet, don't cause alarm—and then split off to ask her own questions without either of them even having to suggest it.

They took advantage of the plausible deniability to duck into a dressing room, since the uniforms weren't necessary to get them in anymore. Beatrix simply waved a hand and her uniform transformed into a sharply-cut black suit with a startling red lining, a matching lipstick painting itself across her face. Amarantha just changed back into what she'd been wearing earlier, which was not quite as snazzy but at least was also black, so they still looked like they worked together.

"Tell me, doctor," Beatrix said, "how much do you believe that there's really a Chaos here?"

"I have yet to see any evidence for or against," Amarantha said, half jokingly. "Certainly I believe they exist, and therefore it's possible, but I don't know how likely it is. I'd really like to see whatever proof Wiks showed that other scientist." She had the strong feeling she'd seen the other one somewhere before, too, but she couldn't pin it down and it probably didn't matter. "What do you think?"

"I have no idea. It's not one of my areas of expertise, and I've had little reason to worry about it before," Beatrix said. "I admit I was hoping you'd have a more...specific read of the situation."

"If this were my field, I would. Either way, though, I don't think we should worry too much. If the situation were dangerous they probably wouldn't be bringing civilians on as assistants." She adjusted one of her skull hairpins in the mirror. "Let's go ask some pointed questions."

[Indigo]

Rodion spotted the scientists from a distance and very nearly approached them outright, but stopped short when he saw who they were talking to. This was a complication he hadn't foreseen, though perhaps he shouldn't be so surprised. Just his luck that the place he'd steered Bartlett toward was the same where he needed to be.

He stood a ways off, letting the crowd obscure him as much as possible and angling himself carefully so Bartlett and the new friend she'd somehow acquired couldn't see him, so he could eavesdrop undisturbed. The scientists confirmed his suspicions with startling openness. Would they have been so willing to share if he'd approached them himself? Perhaps the museum woman could be helpful, in her way. Albeit without knowing.

Rumors of a Chaos at the festival were valuable, but they were nothing without a measure of certainty, and Rodion's sources these days were not so reliable that he could simply charge in. Now that he knew...well, he supposed he'd have to follow the scientists, arrange a conversation. Easier said than done, of course. But he'd expected a challenge.

[Indigo]

He was surprised to find the tents could accommodate someone of his dimensions, but then, there were plenty of larger beings wandering around out there, so it did make sense; it just wasn't something he'd ever bothered to consider, and tents were such flimsy things.

Creeping around inside one without being noticed was more difficult. Particularly with that scientist standing up front examining things. A cluster of hopeful contestants milled around near the signup sheet, though he was fairly certain signups had closed by now. He tried to make himself seem like one of them just as the scientist turned his way.

He tensed, but her eyes passed over him with little interest, a slight wrinkle in her brow perhaps, nothing more. It took a few moments for him to realize she had no idea who he was. And why would she? He hadn't shared the full truth of his purpose here with anyone, for fear that it might get back to his target. To this woman he was just a big lizard out of his element. And not the big lizard she was looking for.

Still, he waited for her to move out of his immediate sightline before he continued further into the tent.

[Indigo]

Amarantha and Beatrix's interview process was simple and quickly applied: Amarantha would ask people their names, what role they hoped to play, and so on, to put them at ease, and Beatrix, taking advantage of her far more professional appearance, asked the stranger questions about lizard tails and strange eyes. They had a number of short and almost entirely unproductive conversations over the course of the next several minutes. At least, Amarantha thought, she was getting those fleeting chats with total strangers she'd wanted.

There was one fellow who'd mentioned something more actionable, a man with what he described as "lizard eyes" who'd signed up earlier and acted strange the whole time he was back here. In the course of their questioning they never stumbled across the man himself, but they had enough information to take back to Wiks, or conduct a search on their own if need be. Beatrix favored the latter idea.

"The information we've been given seems incomplete to me," she explained, tucking a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear. The two of them had questioned everyone they could find, and she leaned against one of the beams supporting the tent as they waited to see if anyone else would pop out of the dressing rooms. "For all we know this Wiks might take what we tell her and send us away without telling us anything more. That doesn't sit right with me."

"You do strike me as an all or nothing kind of girl," Amarantha said. Her heart fluttered a little when Beatrix laughed. "If we leave without telling her anything, though, that'll look suspicious. I mean, if they're looking for a Chaos, they're worried about something going wrong. We don't want whatever it is pinned on us." Possibly Beatrix would argue that she didn't really have anything to lose, which was fair, but Amarantha still did.

"Hmm." Beatrix twirled her hair around her finger, thinking, but before she could come into a conclusion that damned gousankke came into this part of the tent, at a much faster pace than Amarantha had seen him exhibit before.

He stopped short and stared at Amarantha. "You are impossible to shake, it seems," he growled.

"Believe me, I wasn't hoping to run into you again either," she said. "And I think you'll find we have the situation under control, so you can go back to whatever the hell you were doing before, because it certainly wasn't helping."

Head backstage with Wiks and question staff.