With his lunchsack in hand, Caliban sets out to Mrs. Everchild's house, looking for Islington. It's a rare pleasant day for October, and he finds the fluffy Persian lolling on a sunny patch of grass outside. Hey there, Islington greets, waving one paw languidly.
Hey, cat, the monkey says with a cheery ook as he settles down. Thought I'd come around and share a bit of lunch, boss's given me the morning off. Fancy a bit of a sausage sandwich?
Oo, sausage? Islington rolls to his feet and saunters over to investigate, his fluffy tail flagging in the wind behind him.
Caliban unwraps tears off a hunk of the aforementioned sandwich and sets it aside. Fresh off the grill!
The cat noses the meat out of the enclosing bread and nibbles down a bite. Mmm, good stuff. Kind of an odd day for him to give you off, innit? Though maybe not. Not gonna be many more chances, after all. Islington rolls his eyes to stare at the sky meaningfully.
The monkey munches on his sandwich for a little while. Yeah, it's gonna be a busy month. What with Hale, and this woman in town who mighta killed a bunch of Players at the last Game... You heard about that, right? He looks at Islington speculatively.
Islington's ears swivel forward, and he lifts his head from the sausage quickly. What? What did you say?
Hmm, thought you got all the gossip first, the monkey replies with a series of low ooks, hushed voice. Word I got is that there's this woman, dresses like a man, tanned skin... He describes the woman that he saw at the creek as best as he can recall. Supposedly, her name's Sarah St. John, and she killed three Players. I didn't get any more than that though.
Caliban takes bites of his sandwich in between his explanation. It is an awfully good sandwich, if he dares say so himself.
Oh crap, Islington says, his ears flattening. You say she's here? At this Game?
You've heard of her then?
Crap crap crap, Islingto's tail lashes from side to side. Man, she can't be here. Who told you she's here?
Easy, easy, Islington, the ape says, making soothing gestures. You think she's after you? Or Mrs. Everchild?
After us? Islington makes a mirthless purr. Not yet. But after tonight, she will be. Damnation! I was sure we'd've heard her, seen before now if she was in this Game. Okay, okay, I'm calming down. The twitching of his tail slows marginally. Now tell me: what makes you think she's here?
The monkey reaches to rub under his chin, but accidentally gets a crumb in his chin-fuzz as he realizes he's still holding the sandwich. Brushing it off, he takes a quick bite before continuing. Okay, but you gotta level with me on this one, ol' buddy. Maybe me and the boss can help you, if you keep us in touch. We critters gotta look after each other, after all. A short pause. So, we were takin' a look around the creek, an' saw this lady-- well, we thought it was a guy at first-- pokin' around in the rubbles, maybe lookin' for stuff that came off of the carriage that fell in the drink. Nothin' happened then, though she gave the boss a look that coulda scorched paint. But after, the boss mentioned it to Miss Pau, that Chinese girl down the road... He shrugs. That's where we heard it coulda been this St. John dame.
Woman who looks like a guy ... yeah, I guess that could be her. Islington lashes his tail once. Still, that's not much to go on. What made Miss Pau think your mystery girl was St. John?
Caliban ponders how much to spill - but in for a penny, in for a pound. Well... Y'know my master's got a camera, right? He pantomimes briefly the action of taking a photograph. Likes to take pictures of architecture? See, he's rigged it up to take special pictures. Pictures that, like, let you see strong spiritual images left behind somewhere. And when we took a picture of the bridge, she turned up in it, mixed up in this scene of the carriage bein' run off the road by a big ol' deer. I guess maybe he showed her the picture or somethin'.
At the mention of the camera, the cat's ears prick forward again and his eyes widen. You got a picture of her? His tail lashes more. But how would Miss Pau know her? She can't've been at the last Game, could she? islington muses to himself, glowering.
That I dunno! The ape considers the cat. Islington amd Mrs. Everchild at the last Game? How long ago could that have been? If you wanna see the picture, maybe we can set that up, I hear that the boss's boat tours of the harbor are gettin' pretty popular. Your turn though, what do you know about this Sarah St. John, and why's she gonna be after you after tonight?
The feline's whiskers twitch, watching Caliban appraisingly. Sara St. John is a murderess, he says flatly. Yeah, she killed three Players, at least, in the last Game. And tried to kill one more but failed. He growls, deep in his throat. One of the Players she killed was Mrs. Everchild's closest and oldest ... friend.
Oh geez... Sorry to hear that, the ape says, looking sympathetic.
So was she, Islington says, grimly. It happened before my time, but I don't think she's ever forgiven herself for not being at that Game. And now St. John's here. Maybe. Oh, crap. I gotta tell Mrs. Everchild as soon as she gets back.
Whoa, wait a bit, the ape says, holding up his hands. What's this woman after? Why's she going to go after Mrs. Everchild?
Because, Islington explains, with a kind of forced patience, tonight is the Death of the Moon. After tonight, the truce among Players is over. And Mrs. Everchild is on the same side as the friend St. John killed. The opposite side from St. John.
A chill runs down Caliban's back. He still has no idea what side Mrs. Everchild and Islington are... Or St. John. But the idea that he and his master could get marked... They need to start figuring out who's on whose side. Oh man. He rubs his chin with the free hand. I gotta talk to my master about this.
Yeah. You do. Islington gets to his feet, eyeing Caliban. Your master doing the spell to tell which sides folks are on?
The ape ooks unhappily. I don't really want to know, y'know? I know the Companions and the Players that I like, and the ones that I don't. Most of us are pretty decent type, if you don't think about what side of the Game we're on. Finding that out... It changes things. He reaches out to give the cat a brush along his back. But just so you know, I don't think the boss's the kind to kill. He's got a heart.
Islington nods, with a matching unhappiness, though he arches his back into the petting. I know. Mrs. Everchild won't be checking, either. But -- well, watch out for yourself, Caliban. And your master, too. Be careful. Whichever side you're on.
Yeah, you too, the ape says as he gets up. He crams the rest of the sandwich in his mouth and picks up his lunch sack. It looks like he should find his boss. He might not be the only one who's forgotten what happens tonight.