Erold lay curled up on the ground by the front desk, sobbing. The old man who had been snoozing there earlier crouched over him and looked up when he heard Iris approach.

"Who are you?" he asked her in a reedy, quavering voice. His shaggy grey eyebrows snapped together as he struggled to recognize her.

"I'm a friend of Talan Colt's," replied Iris. "He was letting me stay in Adrian's office while he attended to some business briefly. Please, sir, this man here is my brother – what happened?" Her heart was hammering in her chest. Erold was here now, but Talan was not.

The old man spread his hands wide and gave her a bewildered look. "I hardly know, myself. He simply stumbled in here and collapsed."

Iris stepped closer and crouched down next to her brother, laying a hand on his shoulder. He jerked away at her touch and stared up at her with wide eyes. His chest was heaving, and his shirt was stained with sweat.

"Iris!" he gasped. "You're here – they didn't get to you!" His words were slurred, as if he had been drinking, and when he reached for her with unsteady hands, he lost his balance and rolled onto his back. Iris caught the stench of alcohol on his breath.

"I need you to tell me what happened, Erold," said Iris, but Erold simply shook his head and closed his eyes.

"My fault," he whimpered. "It's all my fault."

This was useless. Iris ground her teeth and hoisted her brother up into a sitting position, looping his arm over her shoulder. She looked up at the old man. "Help me get him back to Mr. Colt's office," she said. "He'll need to sober up before he'll be in any fit state to talk." Not only that, but she didn't want to be dealing with a drunken Erold out in the open where anyone could get the drop on them.

The old man stiffened. "I'm afraid I'm not in the habit of letting strangers break into guild members' offices," he said.

"Oh, please," said Iris. "I've been in Mr. Colt's office all evening. If I truly didn't belong there, do you really think that I would have made myself known to you so blatantly?"

She struggled to bring both herself and Erold to their feet. Begrudgingly, the old man moved to help her and took Erold's other arm. Together, the three of them stumbled back down the hallway and through Adrian's still-open door to his office. Iris laid her brother down on the little cot behind Adrian's desk. It was the only available spot where he wouldn't be a danger to himself. More than likely, he'd slip out of any chair and crack his head on the floor. Silently, Iris promised Adrian that she'd have the sheets cleaned and hoped that he wouldn't mind Erold borrowing the bed.

Iris dusted off her hands and sighed. "Thank you for helping me," she said to the old man. "You wouldn't happen to have a pot of coffee about, would you?"

The old man shook his head. "At this time of night? I'm afraid not. Now, I'm afraid I've not seen you with the Colts before – what did you say your name was again, miss?"

"Yes, my apologies. I'm Iris McClai – McClaighan." Iris corrected herself quickly, remembering Talan's warning against using names at the last moment. It was a near miss though. The old man tilted his head and hummed.

"McClaighan," he said. "That's a good name, that is. I'll leave you to your brother now, miss. Did Talan say when he expected to be back?"

"No, he didn't. Hopefully he won't be gone for too much longer though," said Iris, eyeing the clock by the door. Nearly an hour had already passed since Talan had departed. Iris pursed her lips, wondering how long it took to get from here to Tillerman's Pub and back. There was no reason for him to be there, now that Erold had made his way to the guild hall. How had her brother found this place, anyways?

"Until the 'morrow then, miss," said the old man, and he left, tugging the door shut behind him.

As soon as they were alone, Iris darted back over to Erold, shaking him and smacking his face.

"Erold, wake up! Wake up!" she hissed. Erold groaned groggily and flapped his hands at her. He muttered half coherent words, and Iris was tempted to punch him when she recalled the shelves crammed full of potions. Surely, Adrian wouldn't mind if she borrowed one – particularly if Talan was at risk of getting himself wrapped in yet another mess.

Iris hurried over to the shelves and scanned through the absolute mountain of little vials, muttering their labels quietly to herself. The top shelf was tucked behind a glass pane, and a brass label with the word DANGER etched into it in bold lettering was tacked to the shelf upon which the vials sat. That top shelf must be for poisons or more volatile compounds. Iris dropped her attention to the shelf below. Here, she had better luck. This shelf was labeled with the words ANTIDOTES and CURES.

"Let's see," she said, "Cure to the Common Cold – temporary effects only... Witch's Acid Antidote – use immediately... Shingles Relief... Feverbreak... Ah, Hangover Cure – that's the one!"

The potion she was looking for was stoppered in a tall, bright blue vial that Iris immediately plucked off the shelf. Upon further inspection, it appeared to be halfway used up already, and the lid also served as a dropper. There was a tiny bit of script on the backside of the vial that instructed her to use no more than three drops at a time.

Iris returned to her brother, undid the vial's cap, and pulled out just enough liquid for three drops into the dropper. She set the vial safely aside and grabbed her brother's jaw. He tried to smack her away, but she managed to get three drops of the hangover cure down his throat first. Then, she stood back and waited. Who knew how long this would take though, or whether this would work for full-blown intoxication and not just a hangover? After all, Erold was far more drunk than usual – he could hardly even stand on his own, for heaven's sakes!

Erold groaned and rolled onto his side.

"Oh, fuck..." he muttered.

"What happened, Erold?" asked Iris. She tried to keep the edge out of her voice. Truly, she did, but it still managed to seep through. Blearily, Erold blinked up at her and ran a hand across his face.

"It was just supposed to be a few drinks," he said. "Just to clear my head and relax for a bit."

That much was obvious. Iris could smell it on his breath.

"A few drinks where?" she asked. But Erold shook his head and shrugged.

"I don't know – someplace near the port. Tiller-something."

"Tillerman's."

"Sure. That might be it." Erold struggled up into a sitting position, slowly nodding, but Iris felt a trickle of cold fear run down her back.

"And then what?"

At this, however, Erold shook his head again and rubbed his palms into his eyes. "Please, Iris, don't ask me. Mr. Colt just told me that I had to get to the guild hall and wait out the night. And if they didn't come back by morning, I was to leave Felise immediately."

"Which Mr. Colt?" asked Iris, sharply. "Talan?"

"No, the older one, his father."

"Erold," said Iris, slowly. She was reminded of something that Talan had told her earlier. "Where is our father?"

Erold pulled his knees to his chest and buried his head in them. His shoulders shook, and Iris realized that he was sobbing. Panic gripped her chest, and she lunged for her brother, gripping his shoulders and shaking him.

"Where is Father?" she demanded, but Erold kept shaking his head.

"Please, don't make me say it!"

"Erold!" she cried again, and finally, he relented.

"She has him!" he said.

"Miss Veil?" breathed Iris.

Erold nodded and continued his tale. "He and Mr. Colt found me at the pub, and then...then they all just appeared out of nowhere! There were so, so many of them, and they took us to the basement where there was this dead body, and a witch, and a bucket of acid, and – and she told me that I was going to have to watch her melt Father into a puddle since she couldn't have you, and that afterwards she'd have her witch friend use me and Mr. Colt to bring her brother back to life because, of course, two bodies are better than one. And then she took Father's hand and stuck it in the acid and..."

At that, Erold buried his head back in his knees.

Iris knelt next to him and placed a hand on his wrist. She doubted that Tilda truly did need two bodies to bring her little brother back. More than likely, she'd wanted to use Erold to fuel the necromancy spell as a form of vengeance, but a shadewalker would still be needed to keep Igor "alive" for more than a few days. It was a sickening thought.

"After that," Erold mumbled, "Something happened with the lights, and Mr. Colt was able to free me from that place. He told me to come here, since I've visited on occasion with Father and since he expected Talan to bring you here too if there was any sign of danger. I don't know what happened to him afterwards. I expect that he may have gone back for Father. Iris, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"Miss Veil knew to expect you at that specific pub. Why?" said Iris. Her body had frozen, but her mind whirred with furious thoughts. The port wasn't anywhere near The Sealight Hotel, so why had Erold even bothered with Tillerman's?

Erold didn't answer.

"Why, Erold?"

Her brother closed his eyes and screwed up his face.

"I met a girl when we first came here. She said she worked there as a barmaid, so I visited a few times for drinks. She was very pretty, and she had bright red hair..."

"Tilda?!" gasped Iris. "You cannot be serious, Erold! You were duped by Tilda Veil herself? You had seen the woman on the very eve before I was to be married off – you must have! I watched her march into our home, demanding my life!"

"It was dark at that time – I hadn't gotten a good look," protested Erold, but his voice was soft and carried no resistance.

Iris stood again with a sound of disgust.

"Oh, you fool," she hissed. "You're going to get us all killed."

"Not if we leave right awa - Iris, what are you doing?"

She was going through Adrian's spells, of course. Iris grabbed a leather satchel that had been hanging from a hook on the wall and began stuffing it with any spell that she could recognize.

"I'm fixing your mess," she said. If Talan had managed to evade capture, there was a chance that he could get to their fathers before Tilda did something irreversible. But he would need a warning and possibly additional spells.

And if he had been captured, well, Iris would cross that bridge when she got there.

"Iris?"

"Not now, Erold." Iris stepped through the cluttered office and moved on to the potions shelves. She grabbed first one antidote, then another and another. And then, she slid open the glass pane that the more volatile potions were kept behind. She selected five of these before her borrowed satchel was too full to fit anything more. Briefly, she worried about what would happen if one of the vials broke and rearranged things to better cushion them.

She grabbed the door handle and looked back at her brother, who was now standing shakily. He gripped Adrian's desk for balance, white faced and white knuckled.

"Stay here," she told him. And then, she left. 

Chapter word count: 2002

Cumulative word count: 23534