Alison's Diary

A;ison joined the group when Aidan left. So her journal carries on from his rather neatly. As she is a member of Sophia's Daughters, this journal is one of the few that actually may exist 'in-game'.

Journal Entries - Soul Mates, The Erebus Cross part 3 - The Arrow of Heaven, Tangled Strands of the Caligari, Cabora

Soul Mates

10 Secundus 1669

I have been patiently dealing with that ... that well-bred sot Timothy whoever he is for weeks now, and at last some good has come of the whole sorry experience! I was waiting for his guest, the lady Fiora Bernoulli, to return from wherever she'd gadded off to (Theus, I hope she's enjoying that; she's going to get precious little freedom unless we can manage to convince her that there's more to life than the Game, but I expect you're a little bored with hearing about that particular family anyway...) and who should turn up but an esteemed friend of ours, one Viola Falisci! I had no idea she'd been sent to the Midnight Archipelago. I'm assuming she's still fighting the good fight, protecting us all against the bloody Syrneth, all that sort of thing?

Anyway, did you have any concept about the sorts of people she's been dealing with? I know I shouldn't make snap judgements but some of these people were utterly, utterly mad! The Montaigne woman has absolutely no view of anything except proprieties (though I did make her unbend a little; I knew that whole thing about Timothy using me as a coat rack would be more useful than just as a way to irritate me), and given that she's swanning around the Midnight Archipelago and her sister's having liaisons with an Eisen mercenary, that seems fairly hypocritical -- which of course she accused me of a few minutes after walking in the door. The Eisen ... well, Viola has a thing about the Eisen, sort of, and there was something about an Ussuran wrestler and some Avalon scholar-boy and I don't know what all -- our little Viola's growing up! The priest seemed frankly barmy and he's wearing this bracelet thing that absolutely reeks of Syrneth and the Vendel woman...

Well, the Vendel woman'd been tampering. They brought her in unconscious, and she hasn't woken since. You already know there are strange things coming to pass here, what with that business with the expecting mothers ... or rather, not-mothers... and Timothy and his mad chicken things and who knows what else. But this seems different. Viola wouldn't say a thing about the matter and she's not usually known for being close-mouthed; she knows her duty to the Daughters far too well for that. She would not let me kill the Vendel, nor would she promise to do the duty if the person who wakes up is a different person than the one who went to sleep. And that worries me. Friendship is all well and good, but it might well be that her friend is dead, and she's going to have to accept that fact.

Please advise me, sisters. I'm not sure how best to proceed, and would make no hasty moves. I did promise Viola that, and I owe her to keep it.

On a final note, it seems that the lady Bernoulli has lost her memory, but far less completely than I have. Were we sent here because Timothy has some kind of cure? Because frankly, sisters, I wouldn't trust the man to cure my songbird. And if he has no such cure, can I get off this pile of rock? The Castillian frankly had nothing of interest and I have a feeling that following Viola and her group around for awhile would be far more of a blow against the Syrneth. For instance, the mad priest, with a Syrneth bracelet, yet, and defending the Vendel woman! I thought the priests were death itself on all things Syrneth, and yet... In any case, please inform me. I will be moving alongside them until and unless you tell me different.

11 Secundus 1669

News of the Vendel Idunn Laars is good. She woke up the morning after her arrival and seemed ... human. Apparently she's a good deal smarter than I'd have taken her for, seeing as she was toying with a Syrneth artefact. She wasn't really trying to bring about the end of the world -- the whole 'end of the world' thing was a ruse by some explorer type who wanted to hold a bunch of rich Montaigne hostage on this island full of monsters elsewhere in the Archipelago. I don't know exactly what she was trying to do, but I've satisfied myself that she's at least human.

I had to make apologies to Viola, but Theus take it, the woman's naive. I take it she knows nothing about ... well, anything. I gave her a few home truths -- she had to know the consequences of the Syrneth taint. I'm amazed she didn't already know. She mentioned the Agiotage but ... well, messages can be intercepted and journals read, so let's just say she now knows exactly what she's letting herself in for if things continue the way they have been.

My employer becomes dafter by the day. The Montaigne Francine du Paix apparently gave him the idea that an Ussuran spy was living in his hutch in the form of a chicken. I don't know how all this got started -- something about the economy, she said. I don't know very much about his chickens and I don't frankly care to. I am simply resolved to go along with Viola's group when they leave this cursed island.

My duties with Embers are growing more diverse daily, and farther away from what I was trained for in Vendel and Avalon. Today, I showed our visitors around the village on the search for the lady Bernoulli, who had not slept in her bed that night. She was eventually found in a church sometime after lunch, but all the same, I'm worried about that one. There's apparently this book that no one much talks about with me around. I am hoping to come enough into their confidence to learn more about it -- it reeks of Syrneth to me. But then, they all do.

Not that finding the lady Bernoulli was all we had to do -- as a bit of a funny thing, I was used as a sizing model for the Castillian priest Alejandro. There seems to be a good dose of matrimonial feeling going around because absolutely everyone's getting married. The priest is marrying the Vendel, the Eisen lord Axel is marrying the sister of Francine du Paix, and then there's the celebrations in the making for the wedding between the Dorado and Cordoza families.

And talking of Lord Axel, he wanted to find a place where the Mercenaries' Guild. I suggested the Blind Fisherman (I've mentioned it; the only game in town -- oh, and I owe three guilders to the Guild but I'll pay that once I'm on the mainland again). There's a group of travellers much like ours here on the island -- I got closest to the Vendel Anders Ors, mostly because he wears an Explorer's pin and partly because I don't do Vodacce if I can help it and frankly I'd have had a hard time separating the fat Innishman from Her Majesty's guard from his meat and beer. Everyone in Viola's little group have their own ways of getting information, but we all found out about the same thing -- there's a 1,000 guilder reward to whoever lifts the nightmare and miscarry curse from the island, and my employer called them all here to try to lift the curse. Too much of the strangeness in this place seems to revolve around that gongoozler Timothy (or maybe not -- he did roust himself out to the chicken coop with a musket this morning). He apparently believes that I should join Viola's group -- for the short term or long I do not know. It's all incredibly cryptic and bizarre.

I had more cause to speak to Viola. I am concerned about her for more reasons than one. Apparently, half of her group knows about the Daughters; I don't know how much the 'secret' part of 'secret society' was stressed with her, but it was evidently not hard enough. The worst of it all -- at least at first -- was discovering that one of the people who knew about us was an apparent member of die Kreuzritter. On the other hand, Viola's still alive, and so am I; we have somehow accepted that we have common goals and have formed something of an alliance. Most of this is unfortunately to do with the Montaigne lady du Paix; did you realise that one of Viola's companion spent two days in a Porté hole and then came out very pale with no scars, not even her old ones? Something is very much amiss there, and we have vowed to find out what it is ... and, if necessary, assassinate the Montaigne sorceress. It is not something we will do lightly (I mean, seriously, I nearly killed the poor Vendel woman and look how that turned out) but the fact that this has gone on so long makes me worry about Viola's fitness for the Daughters. On the other hand, she's forged the beginning of a bond between die Kreuzritter and the Daughters, and if I recall correctly, this is something we've always wanted. Can we really be too harsh even though she's let all this Syrneth business happen under her nose?

I may have more opportunity to gather information at the Dorado-Cordoza pre-wedding blessing tomorrow. I don't believe I've been invited. I have nothing to wear!

12 Secundus 1669

And I thought I knew how to shop! If I didn't know better, I'd think Idunn was trying to woo me with pretty things to distract me from something. I just really don't think so -- must stop thinking that everyone has to have an ulterior motive. Shoes, too! And a hat! I don't think I've ever even worn a hat!

I'm sorry; this really isn't what you want to hear. After the shopping, I felt horrible when I found out that everyone else had gone off to actually investigate the strange happenings on the island and I opted to follow the priest in the end; no one was entirely sure where Viola and the lady du Paix had gone, so I didn't really had much choice. I rode the poor hired horse very hard but arrived just in time to get the Inquisition treatment from the lady Bernoulli. Seems that business about Timothy not being able to keep my name straight isn't just the last recourse of an addle-headed drunkard; it seems Timothy pays more attention to people's strands and thoughts than to the evidence of his own eyes and ears, and since I'm not sure of my name myself, he can't possibly be. Fiora and I then had a little exchange of information with the priest and the Eisen lord and came to the conclusion that Timothy is a very large part of one great big game. This game seems to have led our other contacts into the middle of what they call the Lake of Sunken Stars -- according to a strapping young fisherman named Andrei, they go out fishing at night and blindfolded because if you look into the lake's centre, you never come back. I always knew inn names were more than just for the sound of the thing. Shame the Vendel Explorer and his companions didn't take heed of the nice fishermen -- they were on the centre of the lake even though Andrei did warn them, and the Vendel put on this funny bronze helmet and went under the water. Even on a normal lake, that's absolute insanity. We left because we were late for the blessing (not that there was going to be much of a blessing, was there, with the priest who was supposed to be officiating out in the middle of a man-eating lake with a Vendel madman, a Ussuran woman and a pair of Her Majesty's finest, one of whom would probably sink the boat in any case...) and to have a word with my employer.

Timothy said little; only that the six explorers, and we ourselves, were pieces in a game. The six foreigners were his adversary's pieces, while we were Timothy's, and to leave would mean our deaths, or something similar. He didn't seem to think he'd last the night, and showed no fear of us killing him. He just asked us to go to the blessing and that we would find our adversary in the longest day, which means absolutely nothing to me. He also told us not to leave any of our belongings there that night, and he paid me -- 100 guilders and two small diamonds in Rhianna's feed tray. (If I didn't earn that from my Guild duties, I don't have to give 10% to the Guild, do I? I mean, if I'd ever actually had Timothy, I certainly would, but it was never like that, and actually I'm rather thankful because then I'd have had some supernatural creature with not enough strands instead of just someone who was being manipulated by said creature's adversary and I'm being a spatherdab, forgive me.)

Then came the trouble -- the bride-to-be had vanished, causing a huge argument and a threat of far more unpleasantness. We volunteered to find the girl (well, this after I explained to the priest that what we did after we found her was no one's business but our own and we didn't have to tie her up and drag her back, as if I would given my affiliations, which he knows about anyway and these journals are going to be illegible even if you can read Vodacce; I must stop rambling).

There was a rigmarole about dividing up into search parties -- neither the priest nor the Eisen lord would be seen in private with me (only fair; they're both betrothed, after all, and even without my profession being what it is there would be talk) so Viola and I searched the Cordoza church while the priest and the lord searched the Dorado. Viola and I found nothing and we thought we'd go farther afield; after a few well-meant words from the groom dealing with our horses (told him Viola was a friend of the bride; I've been seen around town in my Guild colours and to say I was a friend would have been scandalous), we headed after her towards the other village. You know, the deserted one west of this one. Axel and Alejandro followed us after searching the other church, leaving Fiora to look after Francine as best she could. Hopefully those two will be able to keep the family heads from blowing things out of proportion.

13 Secundus, 1669

I'm beginning to think that something in the water here drives everyone who comes here insane. Certainly I cannot remember meeting more bizarre people. Well, maybe it's just 'wise' people. First Timothy Embers, and Theus only knows what's going on with him right now; then this wise man of the jungle. Basically we rode into this clearing in our search of Isabella Dorado and asked the wise man who lived there if he'd seen her. Wise men cannot give a straight answer. We finally figured out that he'd seen her going in about the right direction and we sped off afterwards.

Then, natives started following us! We were a little worried, and a lot more so when they started shooting blow darts at us, but they didn't seem to want us dead -- just off their land. They were a lot nicer when we explained about Isabella, though, and offered to take us to where she was if they either took our weapons or blindfolded us. Well, I didn't think I was going to get close enough to any of the savages to use my most hidden weapon and wasn't keen on losing my knives, so we went blindfolded. Eventually, we turned up at this quaint little native village with huts on stilts and strapping dark-skinned men wearing very little clothing and there was this engagement party going on. Well, one thing you can say for the natives; they host a much more interesting party than even the Castillians can manage. And if you can credit it, the engagement celebrated was one of the native men to none other than Isabella Dorado herself -- I wonder how she met such a fine specimen of man, and whether he has an unattached brother. Not that it mattered, really; apparently the natives have a very sensible view of marriage in that the woman makes all the decisions and 'divorce', such as it is, happens when the woman leaves the man's belongings outside the hut. See, that's the sort of society we should be looking at, without all this Vodacce "it's a man's world" rubbish…

Apologies; I do ramble. See, the way I saw it, anything we told this Dorado gentleman was going to lead to problems for the villagers and for Isabella, which of course was the last thing we wanted (or at least that I wanted, seeing as how it's sort of my responsibility to prevent injustices to women wherever I see them) but no one would let me just insist that we didn't find Isabella because, well, the same thing would happen as if we did tell – the Dorado and Cordoza families would send people out against the natives and there'd be war and it'd all be terrible. Eventually, after talking to Isabella and her gorgeous groom-to-be, we discovered a few interesting things, not least of which the two native tribes of the island had also hoped to be joined by the sacrificing of two children to a loveless marriage, and that it obviously hadn't worked out because Isabella's now engaged to the man from the Kraken tribe that the Leviathan tribe leader's daughter was supposed to marry. See, this is why it's so much easier when you pay for affection. At any rate, we did join the party for awhile, mostly to have a look at things but ... oh, who am I kidding; I had an excellent time. However, the Eisen lord appealed to my sense of responsibility and we headed back to the village to let Isabella's father know that she was at least all right.

Odd thing happened on our way; a native girl followed us most of the way to the village. She turned out to be a woman named Carra, who was supposed to be marrying Isabella's current betrothed (and I hope to Theus this is making sense to you because I still haven't worked it out). She wanted to see the customs of the Outlanders who usurped her marriage so we offered to take her along. We had Axel and Viola take her back to the inn while the priest and I went to speak to the lady Cordoza and the Dorado gentleman. Which, as you'd imagine, went less than well – they're both widowed and you'd think that it would make sense to let their children marry who they actually love and, if they're so keen on marriages for the good of the village, that they should sacrifice themselves instead of foisting it on their unwilling children. But when I suggested that, we were thrown out, though the lady Cordoza got very red – seems she didn't take that suggestion entirely amiss so there may well be hope there.

When we returned to the inn, Fiora and Francine were somewhat concerned. Apparently Timothy put a letter into Fiora's luggage telling that there's a Syrneth presence here (you'll already know something about that through the note I sent – more on that later), and it's manipulating events to get the people of the village to bind a Sidhe, currently disembodied and apparently causing this strange curse I spoke of earlier. I mean, it's obviously been accidental, but you simply do not disembody the Sidhe, nor do you decide to bind one and make him or her into a puppet for the Syrneth. It simply isn't done. The course of action Fiora suggested made a great deal of sense – that we try to give the Sidhe form ourselves by … well, performing a play of sorts; I wasn't entirely clear on that part of things.

The final blow of the evening was Francine, who apologised to me for judging me as solely a house servant when recent information she had received informed her that I was far more than that. Rather irritating, that, when I knew that Viola was given to an excess of trust as far as her friends were concerned. But I did jump to conclusions – turns out she only found out about my being a Jenny and I accidentally let slip about my involvement with the Daughters myself. However, this proved useful; far from being dismissive of the threat to one of the Sidhe, Francine suggested that I might call upon the Sidhe for aid in this matter of some importance to others of his or her kind. I offered her use of my songbird and hopefully a short form of this information will come to you before the foolish Explorer and his group assemble that Syrneth death-trap and bind the Sidhe for Syrneth amusement.

I hope that the statement that an actual Syrneth demon is actually here on this island is my mishearing rather than truth. I had no concept that such things even still had form here.

14 Secundus 1669

I don't know who's worse – those blasted Explorers or Viola's little group. It suddenly occurred to me before I finally got to sleep last night that, yes, I told Francine about my involvement with the Daughters – inadvertently, I might add – but Viola told her how linked they are with the Sidhe. Now, I'm not suggesting for a minute that Viola's not trustworthy or anything like that; I'm just wondering if there's any possible way we could take her tongue out without having her bleed to death because we'd be all be better off if she didn't use it quite so much. (Of course I'm only kidding! I'd much rather her be painlessly silenced...)

Forgive me; it's the lack of sleep talking. See, that's the problem. I kept being woken up by all this yelling and cheering outside – and I must have been tired if I didn't drag myself out of bed to join the celebrations. Next thing I know, there's all this noise outside the room door. So I finally drag myself out of bed and most of Viola's little gang are playing out something that looks for all the world like one of the more farcical Avalon plays. Alejandro's sneaking out of Idunn's room with only his trousers on and Francine's staring at them. Now, I was only trying to be nice and spare the Father's reputation when I told Francine about their engagement, but the Father was far from appreciative, so we sniped at each other briefly before he went back to his own room to make himself decent. It's probably just as well that I had business with Francine anyway; you'll hopefully have got my message by now, seeing as Francine was good enough to have my little Rhianna couriered to Avalon via Porté sorcerer. Also she went to sell on some diamonds Timothy left me – well, seeing as how they fish the silly things out of the river, they're of relatively little value here. That should adequately pay whatever the going rate is for sorcerers and leave me a tidy sum leftover. Not that I'm precisely wanting in terms of finances, but there's little trade for a not-so-humble Jenny on this island, except maybe the natives, and I think they might be more for Ussuran currency.

Anyway, the noise and celebration outside was all about these daft Explorer people. They'd found the first of three parts of whatever Syrneth nightmare device they're going to try using to bind that poor bodiless Sidhe. Somehow they managed to survive that silly lake and they were telling some really big fish stories, if you understand the reference. Yes, they were gone for some time but honestly, I don't think they could have survived all the stuff they were going on about. Fiora bears me out on this one but apparently we're not supposed to question them about it because if we mess with the story, the entire village will turn on us. So the angle is still to weave a tale of our own in the vague hope that this'll give the Sidhe on this island some kind of home; well, if doing that means making sure Isabella gets to marry that nice native man, I'm all for it.

Speaking of natives, Carra wanted to meet the families involved in the stupidity that's infecting this so-called 'civilised village' and so I loaned her some of my clothes and she went off with Axel and Viola to meet Dorado and Cordoza. I nearly succumbed to the temptation of spending my day shopping with Idunn, but managed to resist the urge and went off to tell Isabella that it would be wisest if she didn't go back to the village right away, lest she get locked up or some other such Vodacce nonsense. We met that daft man again and had to pay him five guilders for something that was hardly wisdom, and so after trying to talk Isabella out of going back and being told that the silly village people might want to hold poor Carra hostage to get Isabella back, we thought we'd see what was going on at the other village – you know, the one on the other side of the island where nobody seems to live anymore? We thought if we had remotely enough time, we could beat those daft Explorers to the second bit.

We're just not fast enough for this sort of thing; by the time we'd run into Francine, told her where we were going and found a feasible way for her to join us (three horses, four people), the Vendel Explorer and his group had already found the second item in the village well. The Vendel invited Francine out to dinner – I thought his mind was elsewhere! Anyway, after they rode off ... well, there's something in the water here for sure – or maybe it's the air. But something's making for some very bizarre relationships in this place. Idunn with the Father, Isabella with Umbayo ... and now Juan Dios, Isabella's intended, with Carra. We caught them at something that I would have charged a fair few guilders for. Well, at least Isabella's worries about Juan Dios still being a Mummy's boy can be laid to rest – there's no way he's going to turn that girl over to his and Isabella's parents. They're going to get a boat to Carra's village and we, poor saps that we are, are supposed to tell his mother and Isabella's father that Juan Dios is safe and all that rot that we tried to tell them about Isabella ... you know, this entire scenario is getting terribly repetitive.

By the time we finally got back to the inn, Viola was having a fine time gambling with the Avalon members of the Explorer's group. Anders gave Francine a bouquet of flowers and it was the oddest thing ... Francine asked me for advice about men. Oh, fine, I've shagged a fair few, but I've never had to deal with her sorts of problems. I mean, is it really a problem to a well-bred Montaigne lady if some Vendel gentleman – and a hero to boot – wants to marry her? And it's not as if I've had any relationship of that kind that I can remember ... well, she seems to think that any Jenny must know how to manipulate men. I did the best I could, but this begs the question – would some Syrneth-possessed person bother with dithering over a lad? I'm beginning to think I made the same mistake with her as I did with Idunn. (And I'm sure there's more than two tiny diamonds' worth of guilders in that pouch...)

So they went out to dinner, and Viola was gambling and Axel was drinking and Fiora was writing something or other and the Father was probably off shagging his lady-love and me? Well, business is a little slow with all this marriage and adventure going on, so I just decided to keep the mood on marriage (rather than on Sidhe-binding) and entertained the locals with some Avalon ballads. Which went absolutely fine until all the screeching started and both Anders' group and Viola's (and me, silly bint that I am) went haring off to the west part of the village.

The first thought I had was that the statues that the daft man had called 'gods' and scattered around his clearing weren't modelled from a deluded imagination after all – that eagle-headed, bear-bodied, lizard-tailed thing was moving around and apparently not very happy with anybody. So, obviously, we had to kill the thing before it got us. We went after it with swords, which was all well and ... what am I saying? It wasn't all well and good at all! I threw both knives into the thing and it didn't even blink! Viola tried stabbing it and got herself gashed. Axel landed on its back at one point, got knocked off and then started hacking away at its leg; all it really did was make the thing angry. The only one who did it any damage was the little Avalon red-haired woman with a blunderbuss. Then, out of nowhere, the Father turns up with two guns and a lantern – first he threw the lantern at the beast and then shot the gun at it. The thing caught fire, and that's when I realised that the thing didn't actually seem to be made of meat at all. The Father shot it again, and I made an attempt to get my knives back, or at least twist them. Couldn't even begin to budge them, and while Viola threw rocks at it and distracted it by letting it knock her flat, I just grabbed a tree branch and swiped at the thing. All that seemed to do was make the branch catch fire, but that seemed to hurt it more than anything else did, so I waited until there was an opening (by now, the Father'd said that blades did no good so everyone was trying to bludgeon the thing to death), I whacked it with my poor man's torch as hard as I could ... and the thing fell over dead.

I'm an assassin by training and by trade. Do assassins get kudos for killing a totem pole?

15 Secundus 1669

Well, that's just brilliant. My knives are completely shot. And, if I can't fudge a few details on things, so is my cover. Now, I'm not unappreciative -- I requested Sidhe assistance, and received it in abundance. I even got Rhianna back, which is nice -- I actually missed the little featherhead. However ... well, I don't think it made a good impression on the already aggravated Cordoza and Dorado family heads when a bloody great Sidhe ship turned up carrying the Lady. I make full apologies for the fact that I blurted out that she was there at my request, but honestly, can you blame me? Some Sidhe ship comes out of the sky and everybody's gaping and I just realise that I really should not have done that because my Theus, did things go bizarre then.

Now, when Fiora told me that the new arrival was my responsibility, I probably should have said something. I certainly shouldn't have let Francine speak, but on the other hand, I had asked for Sidhe assistance at her suggestion, so I don't suppose I feel particularly bad that the Lady seemed rather aggravated at the idea that she was coming to help us rather than being there to help her kinsman and letting us assist. After all, some of the responsibility for this had to fall on her shoulders, because frankly I wouldn't have even considered asking for outside help unless she'd suggested it. I admit, I thought it was a good idea, but I thought that advice would be forthcoming and I got scared, all right?

I got a worse scare when it came out that the disembodied Sidhe was Red Cap. Oh, Theus, I don't know what it ... he ... oh, whatever was doing on an island in the middle of nowhere but I suppose it doesn't matter because it was actually there and killing infants and Theus knows what else so...

I humbly beg the pardon of whoever's reading this. I'm a little upset. It was suggested that we go back to Timothy Embers' house to search for the creature's cap. We found it in the basement -- it was white, for Theus' sake! I know there was some legend about the O'Bannon doing that but there it was again. No wonder the thing was irked. There was dried blood on the table and PAC DER written in the stain -- magic at work, or someone's sick idea of a joke? Well, I don't know; I'm not a sorceress, am I? Anyway, it was suggested that if we made the cap red again, we might be able to bring the Unseelie back that way. I tried, but the Abyss take me if I was going to bleed myself dry for an Unseelie; it was going to take a lot more blood than I had in my entire body at any rate. The Lady suggested (well, commanded really, but I'm not going to take offence to a Sidhe doing that) we take tribute of blood from the villagers but ... well, they are Vaticine and I don't know how well they'd take the idea of giving blood to give an Unseelie back its form. I suggested that perhaps the natives -- the Kraken and Leviathan tribes -- might not balk at the idea of blood sacrifice, so we rode off in the direction of the village.

(Incidentally, I'm very concerned about Viola. She's terribly reckless; despite having been dragged unconscious and bleeding out of last night's fray and being told by that Vodacce priest that she should be careful because even falling off a horse could kill her, this morning it took a stern lecture to make her stay behind. Eventually I got through to her and she went to buy me some replacement knives and a new shirt for herself -- poor dear does seem to go through them at a rate of knots. Fiora, Axel and Alejandro went with those other daft Explorer people to the middle of the rain forest where they're doing Theus knows what, and Francine sort of vanished through one of her Porté holes. She gave me a button. I think she blooded it. I'm carrying a button drenched in sorcerous blood in my bodice. Ick.)

We only got as far as the clearing when we found all of that odd wise man's funny totem animal statue things blocking our path to the native villages. When we spoke to the 'wise man' in that hut on stilts, he said that Isabella and Juan Dios had gone off to the inhabited Castillian village to get married because they'd already been married in the native villages. Oh, it was all too confusing and when he said that a small angry man had stolen one of his gods, I sort of forgot all about it. I mean, one of the statues was missing -- I know because I was the one who killed the thing. Seems the Unseelie had been trying to get itself a new form and managed to make the silly statue move. And I got the death blow. Theus, but I felt horrible. Anyhow, the wise man offered a ... bargain? Oh, something of the kind at any rate. Basically said that my god (I think he meant the Unseelie) could inhabit this monkey totem thing. I asked the Lady, and she seemed to think it was acceptable so I put the hat on the monkey. At which point, it grew claws and fangs and demanded blood. Then it headed off to the village. The Lady seemed perfectly happy with that, but ... well, I felt pretty desperate, to tell the truth. After all, if that thing went and massacred the villagers, it'd be my responsibility. So I mounted and rode Abyss for leather before it, basically telling people the Red Cap was coming.

I ran into Idunn and Viola at that point. Oh, that was amusing -- Idunn handed me her guns without so much as a by your leave and went to sit out on the lake for awhile. I just told her to wear a blindfold and let her get on with it. (You know, I'm positive I've held a gun before. I surely didn't hesitate in taking them, as anyone who didn't know how to shoot a flintlock would.) Viola gave me my knives (not that those were going to do a jot of good, if last time was any indication) and we went off to talk to the villagers. The Lady got the people in the square somewhat motivated to do the decent thing and give blood, but I had little luck in the church of the Dorado family and Viola had a similar lack of sway with the Cordoza. Well, we didn't really have time to worry about that, and the people in the courtyard didn't seem to know what to do, so I helped things along by taking another wound in the cause of dyeing that Abyss-taken hat. Viola followed suit (not that she could afford to lose any more blood, the silly bint, but there was no use in arguing about it at that point) and finally the other villagers got involved. We still didn't have enough blood at that point, so Viola and I went off to the churches and finally managed to motivate a few people to come forward. I went and gave more of my own blood to help matters along ... and then I fainted. Suppose I got carried away.

When I finally came to my senses, the monkey-beast had managed to get enough blood to colour two-thirds of his cap, and had just slaughtered the lady Cordoza and the Dorado gentleman to colour the rest. Bottom -- they were supposed to get married and live happily ever after, and instead they died in the cause of that bloody ... literally bloody ... Unseelie thing.

Well, that's that. I've had enough. I am going to bed. And then in the morning, after I've regained some of my strength, I am going to get extremely drunk. Well, I'd bloody well be doing it now except the bar's closed. The fat Avalon gentleman whose name I can never remember kindly offered me a swig from his flask, but that's not going to do it. I embodied an Unseelie after killing the first body it found and then bled myself into a dead faint and it killed a perfectly lovely couple -- I owe myself some insensibility.

16 Secundus 1669

Started drinking early. There were funerals -- I didn't bother to go to the Cordoza/Dorado one because frankly, I felt a little responsible and I didn't think they'd want to see me there anyway -- last thing those two said to me was rather unpleasant. I did roust myself to go to Timothy's funeral, though. The Father found his body out by the chicken coops, and I suggested he be buried there -- he did so like his chickens.

I hate funerals. They're so depressing. I couldn't think of much to say, and it's hard to sum up his life in a few words, considering I only knew him for a few weeks... I think I got everything important, and fine, it wasn't the most tactful oration in the world, but at least I said something. Mostly about how he was a good employer and how he always appreciated my cooking. I suppose I shouldn't have added how I was thankful I'd never slept with him, but I'm sure ... well, fine, it wasn't understandable, but I had taken quite a bit of wine.

That was likely the only reason I let the Vodacce priest tend my wounds eventually. I'm sorry, but Vodacce men just give me the shivers, and not in the good way. Well, mostly; there are some attractive Vodacce men but the attitudes they carry around with them... Well, the man patched Viola up and that's good enough for me, I suppose. Besides, Objectionist or not, I'm sure Theus wouldn't take too kindly to me poisoning a holy man just for the crime of being Vodacce.

Viola and I went for drinks with Francine at the Montaigne lady's invitation. Struck me as rather odd -- I can certainly understand her wanting to drink with her long-time companion Viola, but not with a common Jenny. I can't remember specifics, but she spent a lot of time asking drunkenly pointed questions about the Daughters and the Father and why people want her dead and she was getting far too close to the Father's affiliations so ... well, I feel desperate about it but I had to shut her up and that woman will not so much as pause for breath unless she's finished her point to her satisfaction so ... well... I knocked her unconscious with a beer tankard. I'm sorry, all right? I was ratted and it was all I could think of to do! I vaguely remember telling the Father as Viola and I dragged Francine up the stairs to bed that he should kill her while she was unconscious if he was going to but that I wasn't going to do it. Well, I'm not. Never mind wooden monkey carnage and blood all over the place -- the woman's terribly clever and ... well, I think I'll think harder about whether I think she's fit for the Daughters in the morning. When I'm sober.

Final thought for the evening -- are the Daughters traditionally a weepy bunch? I mean, ratted or not, Viola could've drowned us in tears the rate she was going. I think the burden of secrets weighs too hard on her and she's so desperate to please everyone. It's rather unbecoming.

17 Secundus 1669

Finally, we're headed back to the mainland! Home at last! Well, in a way. Possibly. I don't know. Anyway, Castille. I like Castille -- I always feel welcome there. But I tell you, I find the man who deserted me on that bloody island and he will find my bodice dagger wedged firmly in his manhood.

Funny, but no one seemed particularly pleased that we were going to San Laurent. Particularly not the Father, which was bizarre because he's from Castille. More womanish gossip, but apparently he has a former lover there who thinks he's dead because he was shot in the head some time ago. (He survived; no one's told me how, exactly, but then no one's told me the story about the Jenny and the horse either, so at least one member of the party can keep secrets worth a rat's behind.)

I'd been so hoping that Francine didn't remember what I did to her last night, but she did -- I don't think the woman was quite as drunk as she pretended, y'know. She certainly didn't seem any the worse for wear when she called me for a private word, and particularly not when she slapped me across the face. Those woman's fingernails are in desperate need of trimming, let me tell you, and if that had been a fist, I wouldn't be able to see out my left eye and business would have been shot. Thing is, that seems to have settled matters -- I did take a quick sniff of the café she offered me to see if I could detect poisoning, but she seemed perfectly pleasant after that.

(A word on Francine du Paix. While there are still a few questions regarding what happened to her down the Porté hole and that sort of thing, I do believe she would make a worthy candidate for the Daughters. I may try a more direct approach while we're en route to Castille. She did express an interest but that itself may be suspect. If she's willing to tell me why she so strongly wishes to align herself with us, perhaps something can be done.)

I get the distinct impression that we nearly didn't get to board the home-bound ship, you know. The captain seemed very much put out about the Sidhe Lady of Flowers and most of the rest of us. I'm not sure if it was that he didn't like sorceresses (well, quite apart from Francine and poor Fiora, and Daisy the Innish woman who turned out to be a glamour mage, that Ussuran woman turned out to be one of those shape-changers) or just women, but Idunn called all us ladies to go meet with the captain. He didn't exactly endear himself to Francine, though I do approve of how she met the captain's questions; she just stripped off her gloves and gave him a look of "and what are you going to say to me, sir?" that I would love to be able to manage. Neither did he make a good impression on Fiora by calling her a 'fate witch', and I was proud of her too -- she just spoke all coldly to him, saying, "The proper term is 'Sorte Strega'". It was so nice to see. And me? Well, I've no Bargainer's Arts or Sidhe glamour or any talents beyond the normal run of a common-or-garden Jenny, and said as much, though I do think he could have been a bit more polite about my request to ... erm, well, let's just say earn my passage in trade. "If my crew are too shagged out to work, I'll throw you overboard" indeed! As if I could ever tire a bunch of sailors on my own! Though, thinking about it, that must be a compliment of sorts, and the crew did seem very interested. Sailors don't tend to have much in the way of cash when they start a journey, but I'm sure we can work something out. I'll likely have a lot more than three guilders as my tithe to the Guild for this little jaunt.

Anyhow, I digress again. I'm sorry, but there's not a lot more I can actually say. We had a bit of a hen night on board while the men had a stag do -- I'd explained the concept to the Father but he'd known about it anyway. Well, a good time was had by all; there was music and dancing and ten bottles of good Castillian wine I'd purchased before we left and I borrowed a violin from the fat Avalon gentleman for Fiora, as she said she played and was lamenting -- drunkenly, but lamenting even so -- that she missed playing. She went all weepy and said she loved me. Poor dear Strega can't hold her wine.

I did offer to give the Father some ... well, friendly advice in my chosen speciality ... before the wedding but of course, he thought all was going perfectly well in that department and who am I to pry? I'd hope that, if it's ever a case where I am actually a bride myself (hardly; even if a man would marry a woman in my profession, I haven't even settled on where 'home' is yet), I'd hope that the man in question would care enough for my happiness in the bedroom that he'd swallow his embarrassment and take freely offered advice.

But no; the phrase is "always a bridesmaid, never a bride", but I've never been a bridesmaid that I know of either. I was surprised Idunn asked me, and did not revoke her decision when she found out about my profession. She did ask me why I hadn't mentioned my profession, and I told her that, in all honesty, I thought she already knew. Well, not that I suppose the Father'd have told her, given, but I'd have thought that Fiora or Viola or certainly Francine would have mentioned it. All the same, there seems to be little judgement from Idunn -- not that I expected any, given that I learned most of the tricks of my trade in her nation at any rate, but still, it's hard to get along with the respectable. Then again, I'm a bridesmaid in the wedding of a Vaticine priest and a rich Vendel high-born, so perhaps I'm managing to hold my own in respectable society after all. This could be useful.

18 Secundus 1669

When I woke this morning, I found the Father sprawled out on the deck in a puddle of his own vomit. Ah, it's good to see the stag night traditions upheld; I knew Axel would make sure he got carried away with the beer. Of course, I had mentioned that the Avalon tradition is to prank the groom and he knew it too -- about people being painted blue and tied to fenceposts and so forth. Of course, I couldn't do that to him, partly because Axel was awake and keeping an eye on him so he didn't fall right off the ship in his drunkenness. He actually suggested something much nastier -- something along the lines of kiss-marks on his chest -- but I wasn't about to get started on anything like that. After all, I may be a Jenny but I do have some standards, and not only did Idunn ask me to take a bit of a holiday on her wedding day but ... well, let's just say I don't want to meddle too much in the affairs of an assassin who only hasn't killed me because if he did he'd have to kill Viola as well and he counts her a friend. So I settled for dabbing a bit of rouge on the Father's nose, just to remind him that he could have been pranked. He hasn't said anything (not that he's had time to, holed up in the captain's cabin with his new bride) so I think he understood that it was all in fun. All the same, I'd have much rather made him up like a Jenny -- he'd have had to wash it off anyway and it would have been highly amusing. Bloody Eisen spoilsport.

We girls had a fair bit of preparation to do, making ourselves all pretty for the ceremony. I had a bit of trouble with the makeup -- Theus help me but I'm not used to subtle makeup and, what with Idunn glowing and the Lady of Flowers ... well, being a Sidhe, I never looked more like a Jenny to myself as I did then. Idunn, Theus bless her, helped me out quite a bit. I must remember what she did and how, just in case I wind up in such refined company again.

Poor Viola. I never really thought about what it must be like for her, being in a party of beautiful women and being ... well, she's not unattractive, just average, and I suppose it really stands out around the likes of Idunn and Francine and even me. Well, I did my best but what really helped matters was the Sidhe Lady of Flowers casting a glamour over her for the day. You never know; maybe this one day of looking glamorous (if a little odd) will encourage Viola to do more with the assets Theus gave her.

It's amusing; I've had men's jaws hit the floor as I've passed on a few occasions, but never quite so comprehensively as today. Of course, it wasn't just me at this point -- between the Sidhe Lady and Idunn (of course, it's her wedding day and she was positively glowing), Francine and Fiora and the beglamoured Viola, we must have been the six best-looking women those sailor boys had ever seen. I tell you, business will be booming for the next six weeks. (At least there'll be some variety, not like how it was when I came to this Unseelie-plagued lump of nowhere.) And I always did look good in blue, though I do think it's a pity that Idunn banned red from the colour scheme. Red has always been my absolute best colour -- which of course is a good thing, from the point of view of my profession.

The Vodacce priest did a nice service, if you like that sort of thing, and even those hardened sailor ruffians were a little bit sniffly; that nonce of a first mate in the stupid red hat (I tell you, I will be well off anyone in red hats for quite some time; good thing I'm not headed to Vendel) was all weepy. Being weepy at weddings must not be something I do, though Theus knows if I've ever been to one before. However, I do think it's nice; they seem ... well, all right, they seem an oddly-suited couple and I'm not sure how in Théah they got together but it all seemed very fairy-tale sweet. The Sidhe Lady of Flowers must have thought the whole thing quite interesting.

I only wish I'd thought to purchase a wedding gift before we set sail -- I was too busy arranging refreshments for the hen night. I pulled out one of my remaining bottles of wine and offered it as an addition to the wedding night, and I do hope she didn't take it amiss or anything because I only meant to make the evening a little more romantic. Everyone gave a little something -- apparently, this gift-giving at no preparation is fairly common with this group. They seem so close; it's nice.

Makes me think, you know; I've kept pretty well to myself since ... well, since I can remember, really, and I'm beginning to realise how much I've actually lost. Well, I can't exactly lament losing the company of people I can't remember, really, because it's bound to drive me mad. However, I can sit and look out at the stars and wonder about Javier. Were we close? If so, how? Did he look at me as the Father looks at Idunn, or as Axel looks at Viola?

Then I just think, well, it doesn't really matter that much, does it? I'll find Javier if Theus wills it, and in the meantime, look what I've got! Viola, bless her heart, soul and even overly-loose tongue, is someone I can actually consider a friend, and I'd forgotten how nice that was along with everything else. And, despite the fact that we should probably be trying to kill each other by now, what with die Kreuzritter and his dalliances with Syrneth things, I'm actually rather fond of the Father. Francine as well; I like to think that the little exchange of blows of the other day put most of the enmity behind us. Also Idunn and Axel and Fiora. I actually have friends. With no concrete past, I have the more important thing -- a future.

And, since it's going to be a future involving six weeks at sea, I may have a little chat with these strapping sailor men as well as business. I'm curious as to how much of what I think I remember about seacraft is bunk.

27 Secundus 1669

The past week or so has been busy. I'll have a good tithe to bring into the Guild when I finally get back to the mainland. I'm actually hoping to earn enough on this homeward trip to make sure I don't have any need to work for quite some while. I'm not entirely convinced I'll be able to very often in any case, given that we're going to be wandering a Vodacce swamp for Theus knows how long and in Vodacce proper for even longer and let me tell you, in Vodacce I'd much prefer to keep my head down. I don't know why I can read and write Vodacce any more than I know why I can suddenly sail (and that's another thing -- a sailor? I'm a sailor now? How'd I get to be a sailor? I may be comfortable on ships but I can't have learned that much about seamanship no matter how many seamen I've shagged!) but it can't mean anything pleasant given as I'm a woman and all that. Though, you know, I saw Fiora writing in the Blind Fisherman a time or two so I suppose she knows how but I'd wager she hides it extremely well. Well, I suppose considering I dress common and act common and of course there's no need to advertise the fact that I might well be some runaway Vodacce courtesan and the odds are good that I won't run into anyone who might conceivably know me from before anyway... All the same, there's no harm in being a little unobtrusive.

I'm a little bit concerned about the dreams I've been having. Sometimes it's simply the same old anxiety dream -- trussed up in some horrible itchy black dress, walking around in Carleon and knowing, just knowing that I don't belong there. I hate that dream, but I suppose it doesn't need to mean anything -- I could be just about anyone, but I'm fairly sure I'm not the Fourth Prophet or anything. The other one was bizarre, though. Sitting in a field somewhere (Avalon again, possibly) with the Lady of Flowers, making daisy chains. An activity a little ... well, virginal for someone like me, and just generally distressing.

15 Tertius 1669

I have spoken with the lady Francine regarding her desire to join the Daughters. Yes, I know that her wanting to be one pretty well disqualifies her right at the start, but her heart does seem to be in the right place. Of course, she could be lying and I'd never know, but I suppose she does make a point about all the things she's done and, Porté sorceress notwithstanding, she has been fighting the good fight against the Syrneth and all. The Lady of Flowers seems to get on with her, insofar as she gets on with anyone, but I'm not sure what that says. I just wish she'd say something about why she won't say anything about what happened to her in that Porté hole! I mean, all she'd tell me was that perhaps it was none of my business and perhaps she was incapable and perhaps this and perhaps that and none of it was a straight answer at all! It was -- forgive me -- like talking to a Sidhe!

All the same. She's clever. She's tough. She's resourceful. And, Bargainer's Art or not, she's proven the usefulness of Porté time and again. I don't really know how one sponsors members -- I don't really recall who sponsored me, or if I was sponsored at all. How does one going about such a thing? I'm almost sure Viola'd vouch for Francine. Don't know how the Father feels about her, though -- of course, he had the chance to kill her and didn't take it and now she knows it, though not why he'd want to kill her in the first place. She wants to confront him and there's no way I can stop her, but I did tell her to be careful.

In any event, we'll be landing in a few weeks, and I am looking very forward to it. There's so much to do after four months in the Archipelago! Not least of which is finding a Jenny house and paying my Tithe. Oh, and handing in my journals -- I suppose I'll start a new set now.

Erebus Cross part 3 – The Arrow of Heaven

4 Quartus 1669

We find ourselves in San Arrant. I thought I'd be so happy to be coming here -- it's been so long since I've been in Castille or indeed anywhere on mainland Théah. However, I am not happy. I am confused or angry or ... upset or something, but it's to happiness what Redcap is to the Lady of Flowers.

I don't even know where to start. Well, I suppose it'll have to be with Lucrezia. When we got into port in San Laurent, there was a fate witch on the dock, waiting for us. Viola and the Father pointed her out to me as Lucrezia. I don't know if you know of her -- I certainly didn't know of her, or at least remember her in any meaningful way, though she obviously knew of me to some degree, but I'm getting ahead of myself -- but my compatriots do. Apparently, Lucrezia is responsible for that odd Syrneth bracelet on the Father's wrist, and possibly the only reason he's still alive after the gunshot to the head. She's also reputedly insane, and everybody's scared of her. You'd have thought I'd be more scared, given my fear of Sorte, and I suppose I was ... which is possibly why I suggested shooting her. Well, I don't want a mad fate witch -- sorry; Sorte Strega -- wandering around in our wake. From the looks of the Father, she's caused more than her fair share of trouble. If she's mucking about with Syrneth and, in Viola's words, "snip, snip, little man"ning her way across Théah, well, she probably needs a dose of the Father's medicine, if you take my meaning. But Viola and Alejandro just about begged me not to, and when the Father in particular suggests taking a non-violent stance, I suppose there's jolly good reason.

Thinking about it now, I suppose the Father must be incredibly brave -- or extremely stupid, or a little insane, or some combination of those -- to go walking up to the woman who's caused him so much misery and basically ask, "What do you want with me now?" I wanted a look at this woman and to hear what she had to say to the Father so I just walked up and curtsied to her -- if she's as Vodacce, as powerful and as mad as everyone makes her out to be, I thought courtesy was the order of the day. I hoped I'd be at least unobtrusive enough to hear what she wanted of the Father -- the Daughters don't get opportunities like this every day.

They didn't this day, either. While she had some business with the Father, apparently this Lucrezia wasn't there to see him at that moment. She was there, she said, to see me. What would a Strega want with me? I still don't know, but I know what she called me -- "The patchwork girl". "Coming along quite nicely", apparently. Of course, that whole thing went by the wayside when she looked at the Father, and he started screaming. I ... felt something; he was screaming the word 'Cabora' and obviously in so much pain -- I just couldn't move. Too numb, I suppose. Between the word and the insanity and this whole 'patchwork girl' thing -- patchwork of what? -- I'm surprised I managed to stay on my feet.

Lucrezia talks almost as much as Francine does, but makes far less sense. She spoke of Viola's sister, and how she was meddling and she should stop, I think. She called the Lady of Flowers a "blank spot". And she and Francine had some kind of confrontation; I'm pretty sure Francine said she wasn't afraid of Lucrezia anymore. Well, I was jolly glad of that at least because by this time I was certainly terrified of the Strega. She said a few other things to me as well -- something about how I was on the right track. But the two things she said that haunt me still were "Well, we can't put everything back, now can we?" and "I picked you up because you were still useful; I could put you back down again".

I don't understand what any of this means! Patchwork of what? I've tried discussing it with Viola and Alejandro (who, poor man, had to go and see some woman he was practically betrothed to and explain to her that he went off to Ussura and the Midnight Archipelago and married a Vendel) but they don't have any conclusive answers either. So many ideas bandied about and I can't make heads or tails of any of them. I mean, seriously, what am I expected to think? I start out, as far as I know, as some common illiterate Avalon fallen on extremely hard times who'd managed to find her feet with the Daughters and so found a profession and everything and I was quite happy being a common Jenny with a sideline in assassination and spying, thank you so very much! But first I find out I can read and write -- in Vodacce, of all the bloody languages -- and then I get these stupid little ... well, they're not even memories; they're just little memory snippets and they involve ships and Castille and Montaigne men of dubious relationship and then if that wasn't bad enough, this mad Lucrezia bint comes along and ruins everything! I'm not supposed to be important enough to merit the attentions of someone like her! I just want to do my bit for the Daughters, shag people for money until I'm too old and then maybe run a little Jenny house of my own and then die basically unrecognised! What's wrong with the simple life?

To the Abyss with it. I'm not thinking about this anymore. We have a long ride tomorrow and while I'm not nearly drunk enough, it's going to have to do because sitting a horse hung-over is perhaps the last thing in Théah I want to do. I'm just going to go to bed, pull the blankets over my head and cry for awhile. I wish I'd shot that Sorte Strega bitch.

5 Quartus 1669

I am travelling with daft people -- utterly and completely daft people.

We're minding our own business so far as I know and all of a sudden, there's Musketeers everywhere. This man starts yammering on and on about some matter of honour and Ussura and Montaigne and Theus knows what else and they wanted to fight with Axel and the Father and even Viola, injured though she was. It was to the second blood, apparently, or until someone yielded or got knocked senseless.

And of course, Viola got herself knocked flat -- again. She should have known better than to fight them and she wouldn't even let me take her swordsman pin thing away from her when I found out that she couldn't refuse a duel while she wore it. Axel not only dispatched his opponent but Viola's as well, as they figured, they were both up for it, their opponents weren't, why not? (Because you could get yourself crippled or worse, that's why bloody well not!) The Father, on the other hand, was fighting the leader of the little band and they both knocked each other out at the same time.

I don't understand why any of that had to happen. I don't see what on earth reason they could have had to further jeopardise their safety when they really ought to be at peak strength for Vodacce and whatever rigors it may impose. I mean, really, Viola'd fall over if anyone so much as breathed on her, the state she's in! I don't know; after hearing all the stories, I wonder if she shouldn't have gone with the medic -- at least she'd have someone around to scrape her off the floor on a regular basis.

We're headed for Free Castille -- San wherever; little tip of that peninsula bit. Crossing the barricades should prove interesting, given that there's only one swordsman, one knife-fighter and two marksmen ... women (well, three now, I suppose; Viola gave me her pistol and I do remember how to shoot; how interesting) to keep us hale and hearty as we cross into a bloody war zone. One thing's to be said for this lot; they know how to pick their times.

6 Quartus 1669

As we're on the road and things are relatively quiet, I figure that it might be useful if I record some of the things I've been thinking. You know, about the Lucrezia thing. I don't know what to make of it and the only thing of any certainty I got from Viola and the Father was that I'm more important than I seem to be, which I don't like but may as well accept because, well, what else is there to do?

I've heard stories about Lucrezia, but I can't really keep them all straight. Apparently she was a courtesan at one point, despite her abilities as a Strega, and she was going to be burned but killed those who came for her. Or perhaps that last bit was some other Strega; I can't be sure. Either way, Lucrezia was a courtesan and Viola wonders if Lucrezia 'picked me up' because I was a courtesan and somehow the Strega wife of some man I was shagging tried to kill me. I don't know if Lucrezia has such charitable instincts or even a sister feeling with any woman living, but I doubt it somehow. But I suppose if you couple that with the fact that I'm 'useful', that might sway the balance.

So a lot of my strands were snapped; Fiora said as much. Who snapped them? I wouldn't put it past this Lucrezia person herself, but if she snapped them, why bother repairing them? And why 'picked me up' and 'can't put everything back'? Well, maybe that part doesn't matter. Whoever did it, Lucrezia did ... well, if I'm a patchwork girl, then I suppose Lucrezia did patchwork on me. So maybe most of my strands were cut and she put them back, or as many as she could. But ... well, I'm not exactly an expert when it comes to Sorte -- terrified of the stuff (and I guess if all of this is true, and I have no reason to doubt it, I can understand why a lot better now) -- but once a strand's gone, it's gone. So what replaced them?

Timothy Embers called me many different names, and Fiora said that he paid more attention to people's strands than to...

Oh no. No. It isn't possible. Well, maybe it is, I don't know. All those names -- and patchwork... Oh, to the Abyss with it. Could this Lucrezia have put my fate together out of the strands of other people? And if she can -- if she did -- who am I really? Which of those other people am I, right at the core? Who does this body belong to? Or does it actually belong to anyone? No one can actually make a body out of scratch, can they?

Oh, dear Theus, I don't think I want answers. I suppose on the day I do, I will send Rhianna to her namesake with the different spelling and ask for details on how I was found -- where and when. I wish ... well, no sense in wishing. It is what it is. And I don't have to believe this. I can still be Alison for the time being. I have to be -- otherwise I don't know what's to become of me.

8 Quartus 1669

It occurs to me, now that we've stopped for the night, to make mention of something I should have kept in mind while whimpering about Lucrezia's little speech and railing over my companions' tendency to duel anything that isn't nailed down.

When we sat down in the inn a few nights ago, after Lucrezia and everything, I was discussing matters with Viola and the Father, as I think I may have mentioned. However, what I didn't mention was exactly the tone of my whingeing. There are a great many problems with having no clue who you are, and one of the main ones is that you don't know who's out to get you. And if someone nearly bloody well killed me, someone must be out to get me. And given the one language I can read and write in, it seems to me that going to Vodacce is going to be hazardous to my health. But I do have to go, and not only because I might find the man I seek. (But then, is it me who seeks him or was he supposed to have been saved by someone else? What if I find him, save him, and he asks who I am and I have to answer, "I thought you'd know"?) I have to go because I promised Viola -- and, frankly, because I've no desire to test Lucrezia's patience with me if I cease to be 'useful'.

Well, the reason I started writing this typically long, rambling entry is because of how the Father responded to my difficulties. He told me that I'd have little to fear, given that I was travelling in the company of three experienced swordsmen. I suppose this means that, if it came to some sort of a fight, it wouldn't be just Viola standing with me -- it'd be all of them. Well, most of them, if I'm honest, because while Viola obviously agreed with the sentiment and I suppose the Father must know what he's talking about when he puts Axel into the picture, neither Idunn nor Francine can be spoken for (in Idunn's case, not even by her husband). On the other hand, when I fell over after Lucrezia's little speech, Francine was there with me, so I suppose I could take her as a possible ally or...

Oh, for Theus's sake! Why am I having such a difficult time believing that these people are my friends? I mean, honestly, I know I don't remember being close to anyone but this is ridiculous and I cannot go around thinking about who I might be or whose fate I might have or any of that utter bunk. Mad Strega or no mad Strega, it's about time I let the entire mess go already. Yes, fine, not as easy as it sounds, but the least I could do is take the Father's statement at face value and respond in kind.

9 Quartus 1669

If it is me that feels at home here and not some strand-tweaking bitch's little game, I'm hard pressed to say why I do. The land's horribly ravaged in the area around the barricade and behind. I'd wonder aloud why the Montaigne feel the need to go around conquering these people, but I'm not particularly keen to irritate Francine further. She's been very nice to me -- well, relatively speaking -- so I'm not about to go spouting off about how much I don't know about politics.

Actually, I'd say I need to keep silent more often but I'm not sure the rest of us are much better when it comes to a quick and dirty lie. I suppose we could have just told the Castillian men at the barricades the truth, but which parts? The part where we're looking for an astronomer in the middle of Free Castille? The part where we're coming from Occupied Castille and seeking information of any kind? Or the part where we're trying to find out exactly which part of the swamps of Vodacce we're going to have to slog through to stop a nightmare Syrneth device from being switched on and destroying the world? You don't go around saying things like that. But then, we didn't have much luck with "Dying Castillians wish to be with their families" (which I have a horrible feeling is going to come back to haunt us when we go back through the barricade).

And yes, we do have to go back through the barricade. Why? Because they took our weapons, that's bloody well why. I have a feeling that we might even have got away with keeping them because Axel was so gracious about surrendering his dracheneisen, but then Viola had to go on about receiving her sword as a gift from the Montaigne. I mean, come on, she's been posing as a Castillian for how long? She couldn't have just said "spoils of war" or "I got it off the carcass of the last Montaigne I killed"? I suppose I should be grateful that we got through the barricade at all, or at least that they didn't search us for weapons (I gave up my new knives and the pistol Viola gave me but I was not going out without my bodice dagger; I'd sooner go naked).

Then again, I'm not sure we should have been that grateful at all, seeing as this astronomer fellow wasn't even there. As it turns out, he managed to refugee to San Cristobal -- through Occupied Castille and out the other side again. Which means back through the barricade here, across Occupied Castille, out through another set of barricades, then into San Cristobal and if we're lucky, finding the answers we need to get to a Vodacce swamp. And of course, since everyone's sick to the back teeth of sailing and sea passage is difficult from here anyway, we'll be doing this overland.

I hesitate to use my scrying bowl, mostly because I'm horribly impatient with the answers and hate riddles with a fiery passion, but at that point, even a horribly vague answer was better than none. Well, of course, when you've had to listen to six extremely tense, rather disappointed people arguing at each other over whether we should go to San Cristobal or just take our chances wandering the Vodacce swamps, some doubts tend to form about. And I am grateful for whatever vague answer I received, because at least it suggests to me that we could actually get useful answers if we ask the right questions. Of course, I have no idea what the right questions are, but the Father might, and so might Francine. There are many advantages to travelling with people cleverer than you.

It's times like this -- and when, for example, wandering through a university and realising that there are (or were) so many books in this place that I can't read -- that I really lament my lack of education. Of course, I don't know if I actually lack an education or I just can't remember ever getting one, but I suppose, if I want to quote that horrible Strega Lucrezia, we can't put it all back. I should be grateful I remembered some useful skills rather than silly bookishness.

10 Quartus 1669

I knew it, I knew it, I knew it. I knew recrossing the barricade was going to be a bloody nightmare after the terrible lies we'd spun about our reasons for going to San Nowheresville. I just didn't know I was going to get the short end of the stick -- or rather, just the short stick -- when it all went to the Abyss in a handcart.

We would have been fine if we'd told even half the truth. The nice gardening man had given us a letter and everything (not that I have the foggiest idea what it actually said -- perhaps I should at least learn to read Castillian at some point; how hard can it be?) so it's obvious that the truth partly works sometimes. However, when we came back we tried sticking to our story, which obviously had more holes in it than a fisherman's net, and those soldier-men on the barricades were practically laughing at us. I'm surprised they didn't just let us go because of how obviously stupid we sounded, but then I suppose if we'd actually been the spies they thought we were, we'd have played the idiots too. But then, if we had been the spies they thought we were, we'd have probably thought of a better story in the first place and negated the whole looking-like-fools portion of the proceedings.

It got worse when I suggested the letter from the gardening man and it turned out to be a letter of introduction for the astronomer man -- well, I can't read Castillian; how was I supposed to know? I wouldn't have suggested it if I'd had any idea what it said, and why Viola, who knew full well what the letter was about, handed it over to the sergeant without so much as wincing I'll never know but the sergeant really wasn't having any of it after that. In the end, I wound up on another crazed horseback ride trying to find the nice gardening man. I finally tracked him down and asked him if he'd speak up for us. He didn't seem overly keen (not that I can blame him; who wants to ride for half an hour to speak in the defence of virtual strangers who got themselves into that silly situation with sillier lies in the first place?) but I did my best pleading look and he agreed fairly quickly. I'm sure another woman would be somewhat ashamed of using her 'feminine wiles' to get her own way; I'm actually relatively proud of the effect.

Not so proud of the last part of it. By the time I got back, he'd locked Viola and the others in a cell someplace and after a little while chatting to the nice gardening man, he came over to me and talked about how it sometimes gets 'lonely' out there on the barricade. Theus preserve me, but don't soldiers have any better lines than that? I mean, I'm none too bright and even if I hadn't heard it so many times before, that's just too obvious. In any case, the meaning was clear -- he rides, we all walk. Fine. Of course. Exploit the Jenny. I may enjoy my work, but only when I choose to and half the problem this past week or so is my sense of having my freedom taken away so I suppose why should this situation be any different? Besides, I wasn't exactly going to leave my friends to rot in some Castillian jail cell and going about the whole thing altruistically was a new experience, I guess. And besides, since most of them have all but said they'd defend me by the sword, how can I do anything but defend them with whatever means I can? Do I have any right to complain?

Besides, I've done all my complaining to the Father already. I was getting sick of his preaching and attempts at conversion anyway, so informing him that I've been at that practice he so blushes over to his advantage and so he'd better just shut up about how I earn my living for at least a week was a much-needed blow-up. I mean, it was his fault for making the sergeant think we were mad or stupid or both by pulling out his bloody star charts and whittering about the Syrneth anyway. Still, even though I suppose I shouldn't mind really -- I mean, I haven't exactly got a reputation I care to keep untarnished -- I feel a little dirty all the same. Between Redcap and the quarrel with Francine and the issues with Viola's secrecy and Lucrezia and everything else, I'm beginning to wonder what I could have done to make Theus hate me so. Then again, if it merits all this retribution, maybe I'd prefer not to know.

14 Quartus 1669

I do seem to have the most interesting time with this bunch. They seem to be a sort of Justice League of Théah, a bit like a bunch of renegades out of an Avalon ballad except for the fact that they don't always get on and behave like idiots at the least provocation. Then again, I suppose that makes me fit into the group rather well.

We've stopped in a little village relatively close to the border between Occupied Castille and Free Castille, which we're going to have to cross and Theus take me if I know how we're going to do it; that place is an absolute nightmare and if Idunn doesn't swallow her bloody Vendel pride we're probably all going to die and I don't understand what the problem is because, let's face it, even the Daughters can smother their natural loathing of all things Syrneth to admit that things like Porté and Sorte are useful...

I should probably explain that. See, on our way into the village, we stopped because we happened to notice a campfire. A voice came from there and it was obviously someone or something the Father recognised because he went off to see the people. We all came with him, of course, because we all know the Father's tendency to get a bit carried away when it comes to meeting people, and we saw this band of Vesten people. The rest of the group had evidently encountered this lot before because they obviously recognised everyone except for me and Idunn (and I suppose that shouldn't be surprising, though I don't see why the Vendel have such a hate on for their fellow countrymen) and they were asking for our help in retrieving a rune from some Captain Racine of the Musketeers. I didn't follow exactly how the silly man got a hold of the rune in the first place and I suppose it didn't matter to me because I was more than willing to help -- I don't even know my ancestors, so I suppose I can understand the value of a thing handed down. The Father and Idunn were of no use whatsoever to start with; they just rode off, the rude things. The Vesten were extremely kind to us -- they even offered to heal Viola of some of those nasty wounds of hers. That was, of course, after we offered to help them retrieve their item.

I decided the best way to begin would be to form a one-woman reconnaissance party; if we had any time at all to spend in that village, I thought we'd be best served finding out the lay of the land before we did anything like break into the garrison and steal the item. Hmmph. The closest I got to the place was around the doors; I'd been hoping to steal a moment with Racine himself but I suppose it was not to be. As for that Jean-Pierre fellow I wound up with ... well, handsome, yes, but I don't know how to deal with Montaigne soldiers. On the one hand, Montaigne; they have a reputation for liking to woo their Jennys and being too forward simply does not do because they like to think they've made a conquest. On the other hand, soldier -- and more soldier than Montaigne, from the looks of things; a few months in Castille and he's shed all Montaigne values with regard to Jennys and all I get is a quick up-against-the-wall job. I would've asked the old "why don't we go to your place?" question but you're not supposed to be forward with Montaigne men and what was a girl to do except do the job, take the pistoles and go back to the inn remarkably irate about the whole business?

From there, I sent a message to the others via Rhianna -- saved a lot of time and effort in the long run. It was a simple enough note -- "Viola: Didn't work. Cheap Montaigne bastards. Any other ideas? A", but it got them there in relatively good order. After the others turned up, we ordered dinner and immediately started arguing. It always seems to devolve into us arguing; it seems horrifically silly and not the most pleasant thing in the world to spend your life doing but all the same, I suppose with a group as diverse as we are, arguments are going to happen. I'd been speaking to Idunn while all this was going on and she asked where the garrison was. I told her and off she goes. On her own. No male protector. I should've put my misgivings better at the first but I'm simply no good at that sort of thing and I think I really irritated her but I suppose there's no help for it now and anyway I think she's irritated with all of us at the moment. All I could do was flag up to the Father where Idunn had gone and let the others know in case they didn't turn up for awhile.

I don't know how she did it (knowing the lady, finances were heavily involved), but Idunn came back while we were still sat down to dinner, bearing the rune. Well, actually, Alejandro was bearing the rune because Idunn didn't seem to want to touch the thing and I'm not exactly sure why because it wasn't particularly dirty and seemed like just an everyday rock to me but there's no accounting for what she'll do so I won't bother thinking about it, particularly the bit where she let me know in no uncertain terms that I was not to let the Vesten know who got it and how. I don't suppose the Vesten much care, actually, given that all they wanted was their rune and we (well, Idunn) got it, but I honoured her wishes and went off to where the Vesten were camped with Viola and Axel as protectors and the Lady of Flowers, who still seems happy enough to join us (which is nice in a way, because of course I know how valuable an ally the Sidhe can be, but all the same we do rather get attention called to us whenever she's about).

I wasn't going to ask about the offer they made us -- in exchange for the rune, they said they would help us cross the difficult barrier that lay in the path of our fate, which most of us guessed meant the border between Occupied and Free Castille. I mean, after all, Idunn didn't seem to care (though she accepted reimbursement for the 350 guilders she spent on the item) and it was enough for me that one of their number had taken one of Viola's wounds on himself. They remembered, though, and said that only Idunn could truly accept the gift that would help us cross. Axel wrote a message and I sent it off with Rhianna, but she came back with a reply that made it obvious that Axel hadn't explained anywhere near thoroughly enough and I got fed up with letting him mess us all about simply because I can't write Vendel (or Castillian, or any other language they might know) so I rode off myself to try to fetch Idunn. Oh, Theus preserve me but that woman gets on my nerves! I shouldn't let it get to me -- after all, it's her business what she thinks of the Vesten and I shouldn't get involved and anyway, after all the time I spent in Vendel I should be used to this kind of behaviour by now but all I could think about was the whole familial feel to the Vesten and how it seems horrifically stupid to turn your back on a feeling of one-ness that I'm never going to experience unless it's here with this lot and it just made me furious. I couldn't really say any of that to Idunn because something about her just gets up my nose but I did have a(nother) go at the Father when he tried to accompany me back to the Vesten camp. Well, he rode off, he was rude to them, he was probably rude about them and he thinks the talk about gods they do is ridiculous because he can't get his nose out of the Book of Common Prayer so what right had he to try to smooth things over with people he considers barbarian?

I got back in time to find out that the party had started without me. They were drinking Vesten beer and singing. Badly, for the most part. When I told the Vesten, as politely as I could, that Idunn wanted no recompense, that they didn't owe her anything and all that sort of thing, they gave me a pebble with a rune on it that looked a bit like a tree. They said that only Idunn could definitely use it; that she didn't have to believe, but simply ask her ancestors for their help. It isn't going to happen -- I know that stubborn look -- but at the very least we have it. If all else fails, I could maybe try; Alejandro has the rune now and I don't think he'll be trying to talk Idunn out of her stubbornness but at least there are others willing even if they aren't assured success. Problem is, the thing will only do ... well, whatever it is it's going to do ... once and then poof. If we try and fail, we don't even have that last help.

Why is everybody so stubborn?

15 Quartus 1669

It's been a very, very strange day, and a stranger evening. We came up to the battle lines today, and I begin to get an inkling that I might not be as stupid as I thought I was. Certainly I managed to think fast this particular night, and it was very much to the Father's advantage that I did so. You see, the problem with this particular bunch is that a few of them are particularly keen to go off and do something stupid with no one watching out for them at all and the odds stacked wildly against them. Oh, fine, I do it too (the incident with Redcap, San Augustin, Castillian village) but not to quite the same extent and besides which, I don't do that sort of thing when grievously wounded or completely incapable of keeping my opinions on, for example, the Montaigne to myself, or both! But no, the Father, so anti-Montaigne the venom practically drips from his cassock and still wounded from his duel with that Chevalier person, decides to sneak into the Montaigne lines -- under cover of darkness, but all the same -- to see if there were any boats to get us across that Abyss-taken river and if any of us could sneak through the lines without any Musketeers seeing us.

He's an idiot, but he's a stealthy idiot, and I lost him fairly near the riverbank. I tried to get his attention, but I wasn't exactly about to stand up and start screaming his name. No, I saved that for later, when I saw him get caught. Thankfully, he was playing the pitiful, "I want to go home" card and acting like a prize lunatic and all of a sudden, I had an idea. I started calling his name and, when the inevitable Musketeer contingent showed up, gave my name as Alicia (well, Theus knows it might be) and told them I was looking for my lunatic brother. It probably wouldn't have even worked if it hadn't been for the Father's pitiful act and the scars from his gunshot wound -- I told them, if only to ease their consciences about letting a mental defective run riot in their army camp, that he'd taken a hit to the head and now he seemed stupid about everything except for sneaking around. I cuffed him over the head and generally gave the best impression I could of an aggravated sister who's been pushed too far by her idiot brother's behaviour, and it seemed to actually work because I was permitted to take him away. As we went, I heard the captain yelling at his men, something about, "If I find out that there are any more lunatics getting into my camp, I'll have your heads on pikes!" Ah, mischief.

We came back to yet another of the inevitable arguments that plague this entire group. Apparently Idunn, who'd heard me calling for the Father, reasoned that he was in danger and tried to come rushing into the camp, flintlocks blazing. From the look of her, some extreme measures had been taken to ensure that she didn't get anywhere near the camp -- looked like someone had been sitting on her. After awhile of all of us haranguing poor Idunn (yes, I do actually feel sorry that I did it, even though I knew it had to be done; Theus knows I hate being forced into anything), she actually agreed to use the rune, though she wouldn't allow us to say anything about it, particularly anything that sounded remotely like 'thank you'; something about, "I'm not doing it for you". I suppose it's mercenary of me to have stifled my immediate reaction, which was to tell her not to use the rune if it was going to cause her such distress to do so, but I suppose it was also the fact that her mind was made up and any further talk on the issue would've just made matters worse. As Francine said, "Less said, soonest mended".

Idunn went funny for awhile after perhaps the least pious prayer to any disembodied thing I've ever heard ... and then this fog rolled in; apparently the power of the rune. We moved through it relatively well, but no solider, either Montaigne or Castillian, could see through it. As we went through the camp, some went by so close that we could've touched them if we'd wanted to. The Father's ill-fated scouting expedition had unearthed a few usable boats and a ferry, so we loaded some of the horses on the ferry with Axel while Alejandro and I swam ours, and the four other women went into a rowboat. We managed to make it to the other bank and out of the Castillian camp unscathed (but very wet) and are now camped a respectable distance away from the Castillian lines because there is no way we'd get to an inn before daybreak and we're all horrendously tired.

I'm currently toasting by the fire, trying to get my underthings dry -- my favourite dress is hanging nearby getting dry and I don't think wearing wedding-appropriate clothing is going to be particularly comfortable for a rough night of camping. Yes, I probably should wear something other than my underclothes around the camp, but there's only two men about and they're both spoken for and neither seem interested in any case so I'm hardly a temptation to them.

16 Quartus 1669

They're lunatics! They're bloody dangerous lunatics! They have the bloody Inquisition after them! For Theus's sake, has Viola told you that the Inquisition is after them? I don't even know why the Inquisition is after them -- have they had dealings with Arciniega? Someone else from the College? I think Francine said something about gold but none of it makes any sense at all! Why has this group of outwardly unassuming people got the bloody Inquisition after them? I mean, the Inquisition doesn't want me -- sorry; didn't want me -- and I'm a wanton, Objectionist, Sidhe-sympathising heathen!

I doubt we'd have been stopped if not for the Lady of Flowers. The main one kept calling her a 'thing' and generally annoying people. The Father seems to have borne the brunt of the blame for having a Theus-less 'creature' running around San Cristobal (oh, yes; we're finally in San Cristobal and we'd be having a lovely time if it wasn't for having the bloody Inquisition after us, thank you), even though I did tell them that I had originally summoned her from Bryn Bresail. Yes, I know, ill-advised but they weren't paying any attention to me at all and the few who are left now probably won't remember it anyway. Actually, I think the thing that got to them most was the fact that we weren't afraid of them. Well, why were we going to be afraid of them? Viola's much better, as are Alejandro and Axel, and they're all bloody good swordsmen and Idunn, Francine and I all go around with pistols and Francine and I have knives, and the Lady isn't exactly going to be frightened of a bunch of humans so we just kept telling them we weren't going with them because we weren't doing anything wrong and the leader got more and more infuriated the more casual we were and eventually the Lady tried to walk away with Francine and out came swords and pistols and ... well, then Axel hit one of them and that got them shooting.

Still, no one was particularly paying any attention to me; they were far too busy shooting at the Eisen and the Father and the Lady. They missed everyone but the Lady, actually; best way to annoy a Sidhe is by putting a lump of lead into her shoulder, you silly twat. While she was carving him up like a Prophetmas goose, I shot the leader, who'd shot at the Father and thankfully missed -- well, he irritated me, he belittled me and anyway, no one abuses the Father but me and his wife. Yes, I have definitely shot before. I can't think of any other reason why I managed to do so well. Ready, aim, Morte L'Inquisitor! I turned his head into so much mush. Viola managed to get through things fairly well, cutting into her man while Idunn shot him full of holes, and only Axel was hurt particularly badly (though I didn't see that happening; I was too busy watching the Father throw up and wondering what was wrong with him, given that he's usually much more sturdy in a fight) before the surviving Inquisitors ran for their worthless little lives.

When I spoke to the Father, trying to find out why he was so shaken, he sort of stammered that what I'd done to the lead Inquisitor-man was too much a reminder of what'd happened to him. I should've realised, given that I'd used the scars to our advantage not twenty-four hours previous, and I felt horrible. So when he said, "I'm ... covered ... in brains..." I tried to wipe him off with the first piece of cloth that came to hand and then realised it was some of my underthings. He asked me to put it away but I didn't really want brain-ridden clothing in my bag on top of my cleaner stuff so I tried to think of how to dispose of them and I apparently have a wider mischievous streak than even I'd imagined because I took it into my head to stuff the soiled underthings into the waistband of the lead Inquisitor's trousers. That'll give the good people of the Inquisition some pause for thought when they come to prepare the body for a good Vaticine burial.

I should probably be more worried about the whole situation, but thinking about it, I suppose it makes sense that I'm not. After all, what are the survivors going to say? Surely no one's going to want to admit that they were bested by a Sidhe, a Jenny, a Vendel noblewoman and a girl with a sword while the Eisen got sliced thinly from the feet up and the priest lost his lunch on his shoes. Of course, they might have to -- there are rumours about what the Inquisition does to people they need information from -- but hopefully we'll be long gone by then.

15 Quartus, continued

You know, the longer I spend with this group, the stupider my days become. I want to know what cosmic joke Theus is playing on us to make an unlettered Jenny apparently responsible for smoothing over the blunders of a Vaticine priest.

May I start with the fact that it's bloody hard to try to explain to a Sidhe that she should stop looking like a Sidhe so we don't all die? I finally managed by telling her that the rude people we met didn't like anyone who was better than they were around so for her own safety, she should look less like a Sidhe in front of the 'rude people', which means people in general. That seems to have done the trick, but I'd rather not be made to sprout petals because I've offended her so it's not easy dealing with her. But I suppose she is my responsibility -- I did ask for Sidhe assistance and I'm not about to tell the Lady to just go away before she gets us into more trouble.

When we finally reached the University, the place was absolutely crawling with students and none of them seemed very keen to stop and answer questions -- well, not from the Father, anyway. People kept muttering "too busy" at him. Funny, though -- when I stopped a young man in the hallway, he at least directed me to the Hall of Records (then asked where I was going to be after class. Shame I had no time to chat; he seemed nice...) Well, the clerk we finally spoke to -- a little man named Dominic -- wasn't anywhere near as nice, but we were finally starting to jolly him into at least reading the letter of recommendation the Father got when the aforementioned Father, a bit irritated at the lack of attention we were getting, pulled the bottom sheet out of a whole huge stack of paper on the desk so it fell over, then suggested that the Book of the Prophets could've been written by a bunch of monkeys. I'm sorry, but I'm having a hard time believing that buffoon really is a die Kreuzritter assassin. I mean, honestly. So the man tried to throw away our recommendation letter and shooed us out. I managed to grab the letter before it got buried under more paper and we went to find Professor Olivarez on our own. I peeked into a classroom to ask a professor where the Celestial Sciences wing might be and he didn't seem too put out by my appearance, but I suppose that's what being pretty gets you.

Unfortunately, rudeness gets you in the end as well. By the time we finally found Professor Olivarez's office, it was locked and he had gone ... and we were supposed to ask Dominic where to find him. So I left the Father and his bride to wait in case the Professor came back and, with the Lady, went back to speak to this Dominic. I played the "I apologise for the lunatic priest", looked as pretty and contrite as I could managed and pleaded for his help. It's a bloody good thing I have very little shame. In any case, it worked and we were led down to the Professor, who was concerned that we might be Inquisition ... then asked if the Father was with them. I think he saw why I laughed at that when he finally met the Father, but agreed to do the final bits of maths for the Father in exchange for him bringing some book that the Professor had written to the University of Dionna. He agreed, which was nice. Minor problem was that we had to make the Professor's paranoia worse by warning him that we'd had a bit of a to-do with the Inquisition that very day. Poor man; I thought he was going to have a heart attack. I tried to leave him my gun but he didn't seem very sure that he could fire such a weapon so I left him one of my knives instead.

It was a good excuse to buy a new one before we set sail for Vodacce anyway. Actually, I bought a set -- matching Aldana blades, and they are gorgeous! Viola followed my lead, the little copycat, but she doesn't have the set, and neither does she have the new firearm (not that she'd know how to fire it anyway; that's how I got the first one).

So it's one last night in Castille, one all-too-brief night of sangria-drinking and Castillian architecture, and then we're going to Vodacce. At least there's a week and a half on the ship before we get there -- the very idea of it makes me somewhat nervous, though I can't for the life of me see why. After all, it's not as if I can remember any specific reason why Vodacce people might want me ... but I can't think why rooms full of books should make me feel uncomfortable either, but the Hall of Records made my skin crawl. Well, I'm sure it'll all get sorted out. I intend to enjoy myself -- and make poor worried Viola enjoy herself as well -- while we're still here.

22 Quartus

Found out something interesting the other day. I can at least tick off Montaigne from my list of "where the hell am I from again?". Turns out that Javier (have-ee-err) is a Castillian name. Is, in fact, the same name as brother of Good King Sandoval. (University made me history-minded, I suppose.) Not that I think I could be in any way tied to that particular Javier, but it's apparently a common Castillian name. Well, I can chuck Alaine off my list, then.

Also, I had a thought. Here's this whole thing with "Cabora". Viola tells me it could be a Vodacce name. Wonder if it could be the name of someone instead of something. Fourth Prophet, maybe? Dear me; as if we don't have enough to worry about.

Poor Viola's horribly worried. She doesn't even know where her sister is; just that Regina's on Vodacce lands somewhere. Apparently she hasn't been seen by Fiora Bernoulli in the places that fate witches normally go, and that Lucrezia bint told us to get her to stop meddling, so it's apparently fated that we find Regina somewhere along the way. I'm trying to think of some way that we can get this Regina Falisci (or Villanova now, I suppose) away without it looking too suspicious, and the only way I can think of is donning my maid's uniform again, dispose of a few of the maids (not in the dead way; just there are a few draughts that can put people to sleep) and get myself into the upper chambers long enough to drop a blooded item and a different draught -- like the one in that Avalonian play where the lovers wind up killing themselves -- for Regina. Then just clear whatever guards there might be on her 'corpse' during the viewing and flee. We might not even <i>need</i> the item if we do it right, but it's far better for us if we, at Viola's suggestion, use a draught to conceal magic and then spirit her away. We have a great deal to do to make this work, but maybe it can happen.

Incidentally, I managed to locate a bottle of Falisci wine on our travels. Viola seemed grateful but she has been a bit copious about her drinking habits so maybe that wasn't such a good idea.

25 Quartus

After more sea travel (and very nervous Viola) we got to Dionna. Then we met a fascinating Vodacce gentleman by name of Pietro Villanova. Mmm. Nice-looking. Well, I said I wasn't going to work during my travels but I never said anything about a few freebies. He's going to be coming with us on our little swamp jaunt because he's one of the Explorers after this Colson individual, who's on this quest for this stupid machine without Explorer say-so (this is not a good thing; the Explorers after things that even other Explorers forbid them to get to). Worse, those Caligari people are after Colson as well as the thing Colson's after, so we've got to stop the two of 'em.

Worse still, we've got that particular task from more sources than just our own consciences. Pietro convinced us to come out of the ship and have this discussion over wine or a snack at a place he knows and I convinced Viola to come out as 'Roberto Piaggio' and his lovely wife Alessia (that would be me). So we went and Pietro told us all -- including about his Explorer companions being found thrown into the river tied to rocks, their eyes and lips sewn shut; how gruesome over a table! -- and as we were leaving, a Caligari agent told us that Antonio Caligari was inviting us to dinner. So we went and really had no wish to but what else were we going to do? So we went and there was wine and he basically forced us to order and asked some silly questions and tried to get us to help his people over in the swamps and then ... well, then he fell over with a knife in his back and everything changed.

Caligari had been killed by Giovanni Villanova, who came over, sat at the table, told us that Caligari had been about to poison us (not that we didn't know that already, but hey, we didn't have to eat what we were forced to order, right?) and informed us quite blandly that he'd poisoned the cook; would we like to watch? Erm ... no. I basically turned on the charm -- there's a fine line between flattery and fawning and I hope I reached it. He basically told us that he would like us to go and do the very thing we were going to do -- except with more emphasis on Caligari-killing. Oh well, he agreed to pay for our supplies (new clothes; yay!) so I suppose I shouldn't be complaining too hard. What I am sort of unhappy about is the fact that he knew who we were -- well, he knew who I think I am and he knew who Viola was but wouldn't tell her family 'yet' and that was just not something I could stand. I know it was foolish and if I had it to do over again I ... well, all right, I wouldn't have done differently but I might have at least paused long enough to let someone try to talk me out of it but I went and had a private word with Signore Villanova, asking if the 'yet' he'd mentioned could be either stricken from that sentence or at least be made farther into the future. He agreed -- as a favour to me. But of course, he will require a favour in return. Well, how bad can I feel about it? It might have bought Viola some breathing space and it's not as if I'm new to the concept of selling my services.

But I did get Pietro Villanova between the sheets, so it wasn't all bad.

26 Quartus

Every time I think things are being generally normal, something completely freakish happens and I have to chuck the whole concept of normality out the window and start again. I can understand -- well, sort of understand -- moving totem poles animated by the spirit of Redcap -- I've had too much involvement with the Sidhe to not understand it -- but man-eating trees?

We squelched along through the swamps with tents and guides and such for awhile and Pietro, Viola and I noticed something odd about the ground sometime in the afternoon. Good thing we did, because ... well, no matter how I think to write it, it sounds mad -- this tree raised tentacles and grabbed Idunn, Axel, Alejandro and Francine. Flintlocks don't work in a swamp -- well, not reliably, anyway; I mean, Idunn's worked and I suppose we'll never hear the end of the benefits of owning a Laars pistol now because Francine's and mine went *fzzt* and died. Knives didn't do any good but Viola and Axel did fairly well with swords. Not quite well enough for poor Francine, though -- she got damn near eaten by the tree before the others finally killed it. Shame the stupid guides weren't a little quicker with lighting that bloody torch I asked for -- maybe we could've finished it before it took so many chunks out of Francine. Either way, first wooden statues, now trees. Wood just really doesn't like me -- well, not the literal kind.

(26th Quartus cont'd)

We saved the world!

Or, at least, I think we saved the world. I've just suddenly realised that you can never really tell with this lot. At least before, we saw results -- fine, the results were monstrous moving monkey-gods, two dead Castillian semi-nobles and blood all over the place, but they were actual results.

After we burned that ludicrous man-eating tree, we kept slogging along through the swamps (poor Francine; she managed admirably, considering the wounding she took -- that one's a great deal tougher than she looks) until we came upon this Syrneth ... well, it wasn't even one ruin, really; more like a whole ruined city, with an actual mosaic floor and buildings. Someone was building a campfire and of course everybody got all suspicious (well, we are in Vodacce, so I suppose it's understandable) and Pietro and I snuck out there to have a look around. Apparently, Pietro knew one of them, so out we came. Turns out one of them was the Pyotyr that Viola's been flapping about since we left the Midnight Archipelago. She primped her hair and everything when I told her -- Theus, but it's good to see her acting like a woman instead of a sword-obsessed boy. Anyway, to cut a long story short, he and a Vodacce couple (a Vodacce man brings his wife along with him on an excursion the likes of this? Not the sort of thing I'd have normally expected, but there you go) were sort of guarding the place while Colson and whoever else he had with him went poking around the place where this Syrneth artefact was supposed to be.

Oh, yes, that's a thing. Apparently they were after discovering that, while this stupid machine is only supposed to be accessible at certain times of the year, the reality is that the bloody Explorers found a different way in to the one anyone'd expect them to use, so they had access to the device right then. Thankfully, we only had one compass anyway, so there was no hope that anyone'd be able to use it -- particularly since I'm not sure Francine's even up to using Porté. All the same, we didn't want this Colson bugger poking around down there -- imagine the damage he could cause! So Pietro, Axel, Idunn (Theus only knows why the Father didn't talk her out of taking herself and their unborn child into a den of possible Syrneth taint, but I don't suppose I'm overly surprised at yet another lapse from the Father) and I went down into this old ruin. Managed to get quite the rope-burn on my hands when I slipped, as well -- I think it'll be mouth or full-contact Jennywise rather than hands-on for awhile. Anyway, once we all managed to get down in one piece, Pietro assured us that if we followed the chalk crosses on the walls, we wouldn't get lost and would in fact be led right to Colson by them.

What a load of rubbish! We reached this tiled floor area and ... ick, there was this Eisen person pinned to the wall by spears. Not nice. Obviously the floor'd been booby-trapped and there were these chalk crosses on certain tiles on the floor. Pietro dithered about for awhile, because he was quite sure we should follow the crosses and couldn't work out whether we should only step on the tiles with crosses or whether we should avoid them. Someone suggested throwing something at one of the X-marked tiles, and I nearly chucked one of the shoes Idunn bought me in the Archipelago (oh, and that's another thing -- I don't know what it is about Idunn, whether she's under the delusion that I actually have any interest in her husband or finds me too coarse and common or whatever else, but she really does despise me and it's not making for pleasant travelling, I can tell you) but one paltry shoe wasn't going to have enough weight to spring the trap. So I got bored with Pietro's dithering, flattened myself on the floor to present as little of myself as a target as possible, and then hit one of the X-marked tiles hard with my fist. At which point, three spears went through my arm, and it was right around then that Pietro realised that you can't mark a safe tile with chalk if you're standing on it. That was a great comfort while I was bleeding all over the floor, I can tell you.

We finally reached Colson in this massive room. I'd have been far more appreciative of the architecture if I hadn't hurt so bloody much; as it was, the main thing I was appreciative of was the burly Eisen medic who'd accompanied Colson down ... and not just for his skill at healing. Anyway, once we'd explained to him that this device could harness the power of the stars themselves, Colson was actively horrified and decided not to tinker with the device any more, and to stay well out of it during the time when it was supposed to be accessible. But Axel and Pietro, the silly bloody twits, actually wanted to put the compass Axel was carrying into the machine just to see what would happen! I can't imagine how putting one compass in would be any better than putting them both in -- it might do nothing, yes, but it might start operating completely out of balance without the other one and Theus knows how that would have turned out. As it was, it was only Colson -- the man who'd broken Explorer dictates to find the thing in the first place, mind you -- who finally had to drag them both out by their ears.

Very odd when we came back up, though. I was the last of our little party up, and when I was up halfway, I heard gunshots. By the time I got to the surface, there were corpses everywhere and someone had a gun to Francine's head. This could have been a very dangerous situation had the Syrneth ruin not been unlocked at that exact moment. But it was, and it was quite the light show -- fireworks and everything. Very pretty, and very good for distracting the man with the gun to Francine's head. The entire thing ended up with a lot of dead Vodacce men, the ones that remained wanting to have nothing to do with their dead fellows anymore, and a glowing Syrneth building. Mmm. Another roll in the blankets with Pietro (evidently Vodacce men are good for something) but he did go on duty with Axel so I think we all came very close to having those two pillocks do something stupid and potentially world-ending, because Pietro went for his turn on watch and came back with a whole lot of sketches and was too tired to have another tumble with me. Oh well. The world didn't end, so that's alright.

Oh, and I know it's probably silly to be worried about a Sidhe, but the Lady of Flowers took her leave of us somewhere between the man-eating tree and the ruins. I do hope she didn't take offence to us attacking plantlife -- though I suppose she did it a fair bit of damage herself, so I shouldn't fret -- and I hope she got back to her realm safely (though, as I said, I know it's silly to worry). Do send her my regards and my -- actually, our -- thanks for all her aid and company if you can get a message there.

Tangled Strands of the Caligari

27 Quartus

Well, I know I'm back on the mainland now -- less than a month back on the mainland and I'm already waist-deep in Daughters and Daughters' business. Now, I do realise that it's a case of any port in a storm in these situations and I really couldn't have worn the veil if there was any alternative at all but for pity's sake, isn't having a blonde Strega a little ridiculous? Oh, fine, there are some blondes in Vodacce ... I think ... and I suppose no one expected there to be an issue what with the veil and all but honestly, it was daft. It's not as if Francine can even speak Vodacce, so it looked all set to be a nightmare. And frankly, I think Idunn and Francine took far too much enjoyment out of the reactions they could get from the people in the inn; oh, yes, it's very amusing to use the fear of getting one's strands snapped to make people run and cringe and toady, I don't think.

Of course, I shouldn't complain; well, I didn't complain, at any rate, but that was partly to do with the dress. Great Theus, but the courtesans know how to dress -- it seems so gaudy compared to the staid and stoic Strega black, but in the right setting, the dress is something to behold. I feel a little guilty for exchanging my own grubby dress for something this fine but she didn't seem overly bothered so I suppose I shouldn't, and anyway, according to the crest on the coach, she's Villanova's and I'm guessing she has all the dresses that any sane person needs. It seems there's a lot to be said for being a courtesan, and most certainly for pretending to be one; I think I'll be Pietro's courtesan for the remainder of our time in Vodacce ... in all senses but the literal, anyway. I mean, I'll most certainly sleep with him should the mood take me, but he's not paying me for it -- actually, I had to slip him some Senators so that he didn't look like an utter pauper. Well, he's Vodacce; appearances are going to be important, which is why he and 'Orlando' had to have some kind of glare-off and lord-to-toady burble-match to cover the fact that I was trying the female thought-share thing with Viola to stop her from insulting the bloody Villanova by offering to pay part of the inn costs. Which of course sparked bloody Idunn into some kind of theatrics and it wasn't as if we really wanted to call more attention to ourselves what with two blonde Stregas, a lady-boy and a couple of foreign bodyguards. I don't understand why this always happens. We keep going places where we don't want to attract notice and then we raise the bloody roof.

And even after all that, we thought we'd got away with it; that the people who had been chasing the Stregas and our contact had just ridden on after having realised that we weren't who they were looking for. Not exactly true, given that I was jerked awake in the middle of the night not by Pietro (which I half expected, given that he wasn't exactly going to be welcome in Francine's bed unless she's not half the ditherer she seems to be about sex) but by some other smelly Vodacce git with a knife to my throat. I played dumb and feminine and gave them as little information as I could possibly get away with and it seemed to have worked because they left me alone and unmolested. Apart from the bloody knife at my throat, but never mind; it's not as if I've not had things poked at me in the middle of the night. I just wish it hadn't been a repeating trend; they told me to lie still and not make any noise, but I snuck over to the door anyway (fine, my first instinct was to scream the place down but frankly it didn't seem like the wisest idea because I really didn't want the others hurt and anyway, I didn't know if there was anyone still alive to scream) and when they'd left with Pietro, I went to check up on Viola and she opened the door with a sword pointed in my face. I guess she heard something of what was going on. I told her I'd seen the other Vodacce men taking Pietro down the stairs so we eventually got ourselves together and went down there, only to find that the Vodacce men had left without being particularly irritated with the ruse we presented. Pietro must have done some very fast talking. Thankfully, he was not that fast in all areas. I know probably no one needs to know this, but have I mentioned how nice it is to be able to take actual pleasure in shagging without having some light-pocketed pillock use it as an excuse to bargain down the price?

1 Quintus

I like port cities. I have a new dress! It's this lovely shade of burdundy with black lace and it fits divinely and I even have a mask to match because Pietro says that there may be parties and I know I've been to the odd classy party with the Montaigne but never to this kind of level and going on the arm of a handsome Vodacce man would be absolutely divine! I could honestly get used to this pretence, though I'm not sure I'd want to do it full time because honestly, I'd hate to think I'd really been bought and sold. But the best part of all is having books! Honest to goodness books that I can actually read and because of my costume, I'm actually allowed! There are sonnets and some lovely plays and some book on monarchy that seems interesting enough because it sets out the rules of the Game quite well and if I'm going to be pretending to be in it I may as well at least know how to play.

But of course, it couldn't last. Viola got approached by the Daughters and told to retrieve a sword and a cube (cube of what?) from some crumbly island that had just lost about half of it and revealed some old keep -- all this before the Caligari get their hands on it. Caligari again; unbelievable. I do apologise for the insistence on turning up on the doorstep and asking for an explanation but frankly, Viola has proven herself to be far too trusting sometimes and there's only so far I'll follow her completely blind. Turned out that everybody had been called there by someone or other to retrieve something or other, not that I knew who or what at the time, though in the case of the Father I can at least guess and with Pietro it was bound to be the Explorers. But since we can never seem to agree on much of anything, we couldn't even settle on going on the same boat (and I suppose it's all right because, after all, we wouldn't want to slight anyone either) so we all went separately. We landed and saw that one of them (I'm guessing Pietro) set the Caligari boats on fire. We didn't actually see any of them and Pyotyr deserted Viola and I fairly quickly to catch up to some of the others and find out where they were going and ... well, we all split up in separate directions so I couldn't tell you what the rest of those silly blighters were doing but I suppose you don't much care anyway.

Viola and I did split up, though, but it was only going to be briefly and we thought we'd cover more ground that way. The rooms were full of dead people -- well, skeletons with bits, really -- but I did find this odd glowing globe that should've broken, given the state of the rest of the glassware, but didn't; that and a whole bunch of papers and a journal that I thought Pietro might be interested in. I didn't really have time to linger (just as well, given that there were oozy bodies with bits) so I stuffed everything into a sack and went on ... which it turns out I really shouldn't have done because the next door I opened was a chemical store or something and the smell was so appalling that ... well, I fainted. While the Vodacce courtesan-style dress is very nice, it's not very practical, particularly in the corsetry regions.

I don't think I like the Caligari very much; I came to tied to a chair with one of them throwing water at me. They asked me all kinds of questions and threatened to cut off my fingers if I didn't answer honestly so I just played meek, scared and stupid again and managed not to give any of them away except for Pietro (and I wouldn't have even had to do that if I hadn't been dressed as a courtesan and how I talked my way out of the "what's Villanova doing bringing a courtesan here of all places?" question I will never know). I really wished it would do any long-term good to kick one of them in the codpiece but I do remember what happened in Charouse and that was with my hands free so I suppose it's better that I stopped myself. All the same, they gagged me and left me tied there as they kept searching the building and I thought for all the world that the whole place was going to collapse and everyone was going to forget all about me and I was going to die in the rubble, but frankly I doubted it -- bloody Lucrezia finds me useful, and people she finds useful can survive anything if the Father is any indication.

Sure enough, I heard some sort of commotion. Didn't know what it was at the time, but I was convinced it was something to do with Pietro being stupid and sure enough, he'd apparently slid down a flight of stairs standing on a shield, accidentally shot Viola because he was moving too fast to recognise her and landed hard and prone in the middle of the same Caligari who'd been threatening to cut my fingers off not ten minutes before. Then I heard Axel bellowing, knew the fight had started and hoped like anything that someone was close enough to the room I was in to hear it if I knocked my chair over. Yes, with me still tied to it but I didn't exactly have any other option and yes it hurt like anything landing on a shoulder and was rather uncomfortable for a little while but Pyotyr came in and cut me free and I grabbed my sack and this interesting little scarab broche I saw under the bed while I was waiting for someone to hear the chair crashing ... and then we all had to flee the keep in a massive hurry as there were bits of falling masonry and we only just managed to get out before the entire thing slid into the sea.

I traded the journals and notes to Pietro for the sword, and I'm not entirely sure why but when I left Axel and the Father, they were fighting over the globe, so I'll find out in the morning which of their affiliations got the stupid thing (oh, yes, there's the passingly curious fact that Axel von Wendel is a semi-disgraced Knight of the Rose and Cross; don't know if that information's of any use to you). Then spent the next little while sitting around a room the people at your lovely house here provided for Viola and I defending Pietro to her -- well, yes, I know that Pyotyr felt well within his rights to hit Pietro for accidentally shooting Viola and he might even be right but the Vodacce do have this whole code of honour thing and if a man hits you for no reason you acknowledge you probably do have to do something to return your honour. And as for telling the business of this little group to Prince Villanova, I don't know very much about blood ties but I do know how familial loyalty, blood-born or not, can make some decisions that seem so easy to outsiders really, really difficult. And, now as then, I cannot believe I am sitting here spending so much time defending Pietro Villanova? He's the sort of person we fight against!

Oh well, I'll think about it tomorrow. Well, possibly; that's if I have the time after figuring out a way to save my dress...

2 Quintus 1669

The dress is unsalvageable. I am so irritated! I try to act like a proper Vodacce and let the man do just about everything and now my dress is wrecked and I'm not even sure how much it bloody well cost! I suppose I should enjoy having a Villanova in my debt for as long as I can, but I don't like not having any money and it's not as if I can just go Jennying -- well, I suppose I could, and I may have to at this rate, and for more reasons than one...

Right, there I go again. I'll try to tell these things in more of a straight line, alright?

First of all, I think we have a useful little island. Apparently, by dint of battlefield salvage and the death of the entire Piaggio family (poor blighters), that island you sent us to? That's Viola's. And the way it fell apart on us actually makes it into a good smuggler's cove, apparently. Viola's suggested that it might be useful in a "sneaking people out of Vodacce" sort of way.

Anyhow, we got ourselves patched up and then sent the doctor over to the inn where the others were staying though Theus knows I'm not going to be the one to tell them that the doctor in question came recommended by a Jenny house... When we finally met back up again, it was the same old situation -- I slipped Pietro the last of my money (well, he'd gone through the rest of it quick enough, but I suppose a fair bit was on my behalf so I'm not exactly going to complain. Much) and he got himself reoutfitted and we had a good long chat. Going to stop thinking about the Villanova. Attractive, well-mannered, unexpectedly vulnerable and good between the sheets he may be (well, alright, is) but on the other hand, Vodacce, married, obsessed with Fate witches, Vodacce, temperamental, slightly stupid ... did I mention Vodacce? Besides, I suppose Fiora still likes him and wouldn't be best pleased about the ... erm, involvement ... and so I'd better at least stop thinking, "He's rather sweet, actually" so that I can maintain a distance when we reach Dionna.

Yes, there's a thing -- Fiora Bernoulli is in Dionna. With Prince Villanova, of all people! Between Pietro, the business in the swamps, 'Bernadette Sophia' and now Fiora, we seem to have Villanovas coming out our ears. This does make it very hard to forget that I still owe Prince Villanova a favour, you realise...

At any rate, we were preparing to leave on the next boat to Dionna but were approached -- via letter -- by an innkeeper out by the docks. Apparently we're heroes because of the mass dent we've put in the Caligari ranks over the past few weeks and there are these people wrangling protection money out of the shopkeeps of the area and we've been asked if we could sort out the situation and in return we will be ... well, at the very least outfitted as we need to be. Frankly, I'm seeing this as a temporary end to our money difficulties (I think I'm the only one besides Idunn with anything resembling cash flow at the moment, but we're both frankly a little bit buggered because we mostly deal in Guilders and the Vodacce really don't seem to like that very much, which explains why Pietro looks so suddenly skint despite the hundred or so Guilders I slipped him this afternoon) so I'm all for it. Pietro was in a desperate hurry to get to Dionna and see Fiora again, but frankly his lovelorn whittering is simply going to have to wait!

We went out to the innkeeper's place of business -- he agreed to house us for the duration of our little vigilante justice posse thing -- but before we even got there we spotted the trouble; dozen or so men, led by an Avalon named Morgan (not bad looking; a little unpleasant and looks inclined towards rough play, but nothing I haven't handled previously). Of course, Pietro got into a barny right off and I just flirted with the other men, hoping like anything that I could at least distract some of them enough not to pull guns on him or anyone else, which was all pretty well moot anyway when one of the little swine asked how much Idunn cost. And off went Alejandro, and the whole thing got truly insulting and then Morgan just really got on my tits with some below-the-belt comment about Pietro and I put a gun to his head. Ever had about a dozen guns pointed at you? Not the best situation to be in -- on the one hand, you know you're well and truly outgunned so the best thing to do is probably to do what they want, but on the other hand there's this horrible feeling that the only reason they haven't shot you yet is because of the gun you have to their leader's head and it makes one very reluctant to lose that one advantage. Eventually I dropped it and we moved on, and I suppose I didn't really offend anybody because he did imply that he'd like to see me in my professional capacity later but all the same, I really ought to think before pulling the guns out...

Ever been fed by a Vodacce mother-hen while wearing corsets? That "Mangia! Mangia! You so thin; you fade away to nothing!" routine might be very well and good, but I've wrecked one dress on this jaunt already and I don't want to bust my corset strings here; I can't afford new ones. Thankfully there was some real distraction when Francine (who I think disappeared when we were having our little altercation with the chaps outside the cheese shop) popped back into the party dripping blood all over the floor; I just went out back and got a mop so I could clean up the mess and, praise be to Theus, get away from the bloody table. (No pun intended.) Short version -- we're going to be staying here awhile (but not, I should hope, the weeks the innkeeper was implying) while we sort out the nasty men -- yes, that Morgan fellow is one of the racketeers.

Incidentally, it's impossible to get any sleep around here. I woke up at some unfeasible hour to Pietro and Viola having an argument about this stupid duel Pietro wants to have with Pyotyr. They're not going to wait until they're properly healed up, are they? Well, I up and dragged Pietro away from Viola's door (he really doesn't look like the sort who's used to being bossed around by a woman -- and we're sure he's married to a Strega?) but there's going to have to be resolution to this one way or the other. I'm given to understand that one can duel with knives as well as swords, so at least poor Pyotyr isn't going to be completely defenceless, but all the same, duelling members of your own party -- ugh.

Trying to think of ways to speed up this whole ending the protection racket thing. I suppose I could get this Morgan fellow alone for awhile, have the others come in while he's ... erm, unarmed ... and question him for awhile. I don't know what the others are going to come up with but they're the smart ones so whatever ideas they have might be better than mine.

3 Quintus 1669

Oh, this will not go easy with him. Oh, no. That miserable scavenging bastard is not going to get out of this as easily as some. There is going to be a reckoning.

We came away from your typical breakfast (oh, and please don't ask me to re-enact that little farce because I am truly not in the mood) with Pyotyr and Pietro still sniping at each other. Well, I don't bloody care if they're both wounded; if I have to hear one more sniping match in this so-called 'group' I am going to scream and besides which, Pietro kept talking about stabbing Pyotyr in his sleep and whether he meant it or not I'm not going to risk that on the basis that Viola would be horribly upset and she's reckless enough without losing a man she fancies. So I just set the terms of the duel -- knives only, to the first blood -- and then ... oh, Theus I'm having a hard time believing this one ... served as Pietro's second. With Viola as Pyotyr's. I'm sure this goes against some masculine honour code, y'know. Anyway, Pietro won, Pyotyr's more wounded but at least it's over. Stupid men.

And then there was the screaming, and we found that the chandler's down the lane was burning to the ground. I couldn't actually be of much help, but Pietro, Axel and Viola (Orlando, whichever) saved the chandler and his daughter from the burning building and I asked around -- turns out that son of a bitch Morgan was responsible. Shouldn't be surprised, but I did have to make sure.

Actually, I'm not surprised. I'm bloody outraged. It's situations like that that send good girls to the Jenny house, and while I'm not maligning my profession, I have to admit that I wouldn't be overly happy with it if I'd started out as something honest and then had it taken from me by malicious, greedy arseholes so that this was my only choice. Actually, I wouldn't be overly happy with it if I wasn't putting myself in a position to do good somewhere along the way. It's not something one should be forced into this way, and I'm not having it. This is the sort of thing the Daughters were designed for -- well, on a mortal scale, at least -- and I'm not standing by and letting days and weeks go past without striking out at that miserable excuse for a human being.

I'm going to find Pietro once he gets cleaned up from his rescue operation (well, his attempted rescue operation -- he didn't quite manage as well as Viola did), and I'm going to ask him to get some Woundwort and whatever serves as its antidote (well, I'm immunised to that one; how'm I supposed to know the antidote?). After that, I'm going to go after that evil dirtball, be all smiles, apologise for the gun-to-the-head thing and then offer him some wine. After that and some ... erm ... distraction, he'll start feeling the effects and I'll make mention to him that I do have the antidote -- not with me, of course -- and that I'd happily make the exchange for some information about his employer. And if he somehow decides his life isn't worth it, hurts me and runs, I'll have a sneaky someone or two watching the inn we go to so they can follow him to wherever he's supposed to go.

In short, this man is not getting away with this -- not the master, not his cat's paw, not any of them.

3 Quintus 1669, continued

All right, maybe there isn't going to be a reckoning. I do so miss working alone...

I got Pietro to get me my dram, which was apparently bloody costly but with a little luck we'll make at least some of that back at some stage, but they don't actually do antidotes, which I suppose shouldn't surprise me given that poisoning around here is for keeps but I suppose he deserved it anyway -- or would've if I'd been able to get anywhere near him in that kind of capacity. As it was, we had to watch two other businessmen -- the innkeeper and the nice old tailor man -- have money taken off them before we could actually do anything. When we finally managed to do the following, Pietro beat me to the shoddy inn on the edge of town but I did manage to sneak up on him; amusement of the day is hearing a Vodacce lord scream like a girl. After awhile of debating the point, I managed to convince him to let me go in first and he was only to follow me if I wasn't out in ten minutes; after all, I was the one more likely to be able to lie my way out of my association with the rest of the group, even if it was by way of an offer of information at a price. Never got that far -- might have, knife to the ribs notwithstanding, had bloody Pietro not got bloody bored and barged in anyway. I don't know what it is with the Vodacce and cutting people's fingers off, but it seems to be the standard threat because when Pietro wisely insisted that he wasn't going to sit down and let himself be held captive just because the evil gits had a knife to my side, that's what they threatened to do ... for the second time that day. Can I point out that it's the second time in three days that men have threatened to cut fingers off? They wouldn't if I knew what I can do with those fingers, I can tell you... In any case, Pietro tried to be all nonchalant about that too -- the whole calling of bluff thing -- until the point where the intermediary sleazy person who'd taken money off the innkeeper grabbed my wrist and held my hand to the table and that Morgan scum pulled a knife. At that point, Pietro drew his sword and all-out screamed "NO!", which was rather surprising, all things considered. But I suppose he knows what these hands can do so I guess he'd be a little miffed if they got spoiled. But he got himself captured because he didn't want my fingers chopped off. I think for a Villanova, that's almost sweet -- a bit like that whole conversation where I asked him to be lurking when I marked off Morgan on the off chance that he decided I wasn't worth talking to, did me an injury and ran off; it would let Pietro follow him to the lair or whatever, you see, except that Pietro didn't seem to like the idea of my being injured. Again, sweet. Odd, but sweet.

It actually got dumber. Awhile later, in walked 'Orlando' and some bloody attractive Knight of Elaine. And of course, Viola caught sight of me, drew sword ... and then I had a gun pointed to my head and she was told to drop the sword and sit down. Theus, but I wish she'd just got out of there and let them blow my head off; no, I don't want to die particularly but I'm rather tired of being tied to chairs and getting people into trouble and at least with her free there were more swordspeople to fight against this extortionist arse. As it was, two of our swordsmen and one added advantage in our corner were all sitting in this miserable pub in the back end of nowhere, gagged, no less (well, we'd been a bit harpyish, but let's face it, I'd asked Pietro for ten minutes and he barely gave me five so I'm thinking I was owed a bit of a rant) and left to the tender mercies of more smelly Vodacce gits. And hours went by; they dragged us upstairs and then most of the Vodacce people went home and left Morgan and the sleaze Luciano from the bar to guard over us. Pietro kept squirming to try to get himself untied but let's face it -- the Vodacce are good at tying people up (and he really must prove that to me at some point; could be fun...) and we were jolly well stuck.

Then someone knocked on the door and stated that they had brought dinner -- not for us, obviously, because they weren't exactly treating us with any kind of respect given that they were probably going to throw us chairs and all in the river anyway -- and when they opened the door, Idunn blew Luciano's head off. Either she did it for Viola, she did it for Pietro or she's friendly with the Avalon, is all I have to say -- I'd wager vast amounts of money I don't have on the fact that if it'd been me alone, she'd have let me get my throat cut. After that, Axel came barging in a window and Francine just entered in her own inimitable style, bearing more pistols. Not suprised she missed, though, given Axel barging around like a barbarian, and after that she went to cut Viola free. Idunn was going to free Pietro, but Axel bellowed for her not to right around the time he was making a pincushion of Morgan (yay! Go Axel!), at which point Morgan surrendered ... and Axel dumped an inkwell over Pietro's head. Apparently he figured out who was responsible for the handprint on his face this morning. When I cut Pietro free, he looked set to make more of an inky mess of Axel's face but I just shut him up with a kiss and left it at that.

Then I got myself introduced to Sir Oswald of Kettering. Mmm. Very nice. Apparently thought Viola was in on the whole extortion thing but watching her get tied to a chair and held captive for a few hours got the point across. Not the sharpest sword in the armoury, so we seem to have another Axel in the group ... only far, far better looking. Pietro doesn't seem to like him, though; when Sir Oswald asked Pietro's name, he just replied with, "Well, I'm not sure that's any of your business". That tends to mean that he's upset with someone for some reason. He couldn't be upset that there was eye-making between me and Sir Oswald, could he? Oh, I know, I really should stop thinking of him that way, but I have to admit that it would be kind of nice if he actually cared about more than just his bed partner...

Stopitstopitstopit!

Anyhow, we're going to collect ourselves a bit and then follow the blooded coin that Francine so kindly left with the tailor to the hideout of the scarred man. I'm going to borrow a knife and hopefully be able to do something bar sit in a chair and chafe.

4 Quintus 1669

Sir Oswald asked me last night what I was doing with this lot. You know, the longer I spend with them, the more I realise that I have absolutely no idea. I gave him some vague answer involving the Midnight Archipelago, 'Orlando' as a friend of the family and not much of any note, leaving out the whole Lucrezia thing and the "patchwork girl" and my memory loss and things with Pietro (although that was deliberate as I was entirely hacked off with Lord Villain-ova by then). Yes, it does tend to mean that I left out just about everything in that case but I'm not entirely sure he'd understand it anyway, given this afternoon. Though I will say it's refreshing to have someone not judge me by my profession, even though it's only because he doesn't accept that it is my profession -- can you be a patron of the Jennys' Guild without selling your services or buying those of others? I don't understand how anyone can take "paying member of the Guild" to not mean 'Jenny'. I said Jenny! I didn't mean to say Jenny but I said Jenny anyway and still he calls me 'Lady'! Does he know something I don't? Because, you know, it doesn't seem likely. He's a nice fellow and lovely to look at but deeply, deeply stupid. Then again, I suppose I'm not much better.

Look, this isn't telling you anything you want to know. Of course, the next bit isn't much either. We did finally get some form of justice on the scarred bastard who was extorting from all those poor people but it took forever and got ... well, much like Sir Oswald, really -- deeply, deeply stupid. Pietro was absolutely useless in the endgame because when the suggestion came that we set the back of the safehouse on fire and corral them up when they tried to get out the front door, there were worries that the servants might get caught in the blaze and burn to death (no one really seemed to mind if the extortionists burned, but that's to be expected) and Pietro said something along the lines of "Who cares? They're only peasants" and Pyotyr punched him -- knocked him cold, broke his nose and severely bruised his dignity. If I'd known then what I know now I wouldn't have been half so solicitous, nor would I have punched Pyotyr -- but then again, I did pull it because it's not nice to hurt Viola's shag. Not that it's an issue at the moment anyway because he's now gone and buggered off because of Pietro's bloody attitude problem but it's the principle of the thing and Pietro got a right piece of my mind and his goolies felt the heel of my shoe. If those who aren't part of the bloody nobility are that dispensable, maybe he can do without this peasant, hmm?

Oh, who am I kidding? Not like I'd turn him away. Arrogant product of a mating between a Strega and a jackass he may well be, but I ... love him? Oh, Theus, I am deeply stupid. Well, I suppose not entirely stupid; he did actually apologise for the remark about burning peasants of his own volition -- well, unless you count the puppy-eyes as some kind of incentive, but given the reaction from the others when I told them what he said, I'm thinking not.

Rambling again. Apologies. We kept a watch on the house where Francine said the scarred man was keeping the money all of last night and most of today, at which point we were all getting incredibly bored so I thought I'd go out and knock on the door, see what was going on. Sir Oswald and Viola followed me and Viola tried to sneak off to the side while Oswald just came to the door. I did a bit of ... let's say 'selective translation' and the servant who answered the door thought he was a bit of a loony but he wasn't far wrong so we'll leave it there. I didn't really expect to gain entry by Sir Oswald offering to sell his sword to these people but it would have been nice if it had ... and then I realised that the servant didn't seem particularly disturbed that these two people had climbed the gate to get to the front door in the first place. I figured the best thing to do at that point would be to wait by the door until someone came out and asked why I was still there, in which case I'd have just explained that the gate was locked. Which is exactly what I said to the four men with guns who came out of the house a short while later -- while putting my hands in the air like a good little target.

Then there were people shouting "FIRE!" and I thought it only polite to point out that their house was burning down and there were gunshots. They didn't go away or anything but they did look a little nonplussed. I'm assuming that the nonplussedness came in handy to Sir Oswald when he broke for the house despite the people pointing guns at him. And me. I was convinced that the idiot was going to get us both killed but they directed their attentions and their gunfire at him and gave me some time to pull guns. I was very nice about it -- just suggested they go put their house out -- but they went off and chased Sir Oswald instead and what else could I do but follow? Alejandro turned up right behind me and you know it's been ages since he and I had a proper chat? Well, that'd be because of Idunn really not liking me and given Pietro does she really think I'm after her husband?

Sorry. Doing it again but you see, there really wasn't much to it after that. When we got into the house, poor Francine was lying on the floor in a pool of her blood and the guards who followed him in sort of collapsed on the floor when they entered ... and then so did I. More being gassed -- since I've been here in bloody Vodacce, being rendered unconscious by strange chemicals is third on lists of "most likely", right after being tied to chairs and people threatening to cut my fingers off. I didn't actually wake up until we'd all gone back to the inn, but when I did I was told that the scarred man escaped and it seems like he's not coming back. Plus Pietro was all solicitous and brought water, though I suppose Francine needed it more than I did -- poor thing got the gas and a couple of blades in the side. She apparently shot the scarred man, though, so that's something.

Apparently, our money is no good here. Which is a good thing, because we don't have any. We're staying a day or so before heading for Dionna so I may get fitted for a new dress. Francine'll meet us in Dionna so I hope she doesn't mind picking it up. See, Pietro has this thing about my underwear being on display and has admitted he doesn't like the idea of me shagging Sir Oswald or anyone else but him so I'm thinking of dressing a little bit more like the lady Sir Oswald seems to think I am so at least I won't be playing the common tart for awhile. I'm not sure why I'm bothering as Pietro hasn't exactly declared his undying love or anything of that sort and anyway he's going to be seeing Fiora and his wife when we get to Dionna (though he might not exactly seek them out, given he's still going to be in nose-splints for the next few weeks) but I ... want to please him, I suppose, and not just in the ways I normally do. If I do have to be a Jenny, I think I'll be a little bit more discreet about it in future for his sake.

8 Quintus 1669

I've been having a very interesting conversation with Francine. No, she still won't say anything about her little accident in the Porté hole but I'm getting the feeling that it's because she can't rather than she won't. I'm starting to feel rather bad for her. I mean, there does tend to be this whole one-upmanship issue about who's got it worse as far as lost memories go, but frankly I know I come out on top there for sheer volume and she's not going to get me to think otherwise just because she feels lonely about not being able to tell anybody about this whole Porté accident thing. All the same, I do feel bad. After all, I do know what it's like, though I wasn't lucky enough to have family around me at the time. Do wish she'd shut up about my feelings for Pietro, though – why does everybody get so silly about him? He's harmless, really…

Still, that's not why the conversation's interesting. She's actually a du Crieux. Clarisse Allais du Crieux is her aunt, if you can believe it. Apparently, her father is Fench Allais du Crieux and … I know that the Montaigne nobles can be utter and complete bastards when the mood takes them but this individual … well, Francine's mother was an actress and this du Crieux person had a dalliance with her, which resulted in Francine and her twin sister Eponine. For awhile they were working in their father's household as Porté servants but then their mother had got to such a stage in her acting (pardon the pun) that she decided to form her own company. When L’Empereur gave her company the thumbs-down, du Crieux joined in the booing and cast mother and daughters out of the house without a penny to their names. Eventually their mother found work but Francine went off to be an actress herself and somehow went from that to working with this lot. I'm not sure if that's a 'mighty are fallen' situation or not, frankly.

Anyway, Francine wants her father humiliated, possibly banished. She also wants to be acknowledged as a du Crieux, apparently so that she can funnel the money of the richest family in Théah out to worthy causes and the peasantry. Nice to know someone cares about the Montaigne peasants. I thought about this and saw all sorts of advantages – well, not necessarily to Francine being acknowledged per se, though I suppose the money would help, but I'm not entirely sure it's going to be nice for the nobility for very long in Montaigne, but then again I suppose the peasantry is so oppressed anyway that it might not matter… Ugh, I must stop rambling; I'm getting as bad as Francine. However, having a Montaigne noble humiliated, punished and banished might not be a bad thing to show people who are chafing under noble rule and that's something to work towards, particularly given the problems we keep having with Jennys who get sucked into that semi-courtesan situation with the Montaigne nobility and then wind up getting badly hurt. I thought it might be an idea if I got 'close' to du Crieux, arrange or stage a beating reasonably far along in the business relationship so that it'd obviously be him (because, of course, they hate it when another man's been playing with their toys) and … well, this is where I'd really need the Daughters' help to bring it off. See, I was thinking that a good way to make people sit up and take notice of the treatment these women are getting would be a mass Jennys' strike in Charouse; after the event, of course. I don't know what it'd do, besides annoy the nobility and maybe show the peasantry that they're not so helpless as they think, but every little has to help, no? I think it's a very good opportunity to do something there so do let me know if you think I'm being as typically silly as usual, or if this is something worth pursuing.

Then again, it might not be a problem, or at least not something I have the chance to work at, given that I'm going to be meeting Pietro's wife, daughter and (former?) love interest in the next few days and they're all Strega and I'm probably going to get myself killed so I don't know why I'm bothering with plans for the future. Ah, well, I suppose it passes the time and it's something to think about to keep my mind off the impending game of Don't Piss Off the Strega.

Cabora

11 Quintus 1669

We were barely off the bloody boat before Prince Villanova got his hooks in us!

Sorry; I'm a little upset. It's been a long and trying day. We finally got off the boat and had maybe a little time to clean up before we were ushered into dinner with Prince Villanova … and, oddly, Fiora. A week at sea wasn't quite enough time for us to work out what she was doing hob-nobbing with Villanova in the first place (but Theus, did we ever find out…). Apart from those two old familiar faces, there were a few more – Juliette, Valentina Villanova, and a couple of Strega I'd never seen before, one of them a child. Rosina Villanova, Pietro's wife, and Luisa Villanova, his daughter. She turned around to me and asked if I was married to her Daddy now. Out of the mouths of babes with Sorte… Then she said something distinctly odd, this time to her mother – "Mummy, why's she got a big--?" Rosina wouldn't let the child finish the sentence but I'd naturally assumed it was something to do with my bosom, though I suppose with Juliette slinking around the place the child had seen bosoms before.

To be honest, I wasn't paying attention to a whole lot at dinner – too many Stregas in too close quarters and you know how I am with Sorte magic, particularly when it's being wielded by potentially jealous women whose man I'm shagging. And then it got worse. Apparently, Prince Giovanni was only hosting this little event – Fiora had actually called it. On behalf of one of the Tessatore, who wanted to see us. The words "unholy terror" spring to mind – between Viola's little secret (which, I have to tell you, is absolutely no secret around here) and whatever it is I might have to hide, meeting one of the Tessatore is no small thing. And of course, I had no idea what I was in for, which is always scary.

(Oh, and incidentally, Fiora's getting married to someone named Sebastiano or something over in Gallegos. We've been invited – well, sort of; I don't know if Fiora wants Pietro there or not and I actually think the whole 'marrying a man she doesn't love' is harder on Fiora and on Pietro than they'll ever admit but frankly, Fiora made her bed and now she's going to have to lie in it and she's had every opportunity to get away from this and as for Pietro, well, I can distract him. But then, given the way I was behaving at dinner it's entirely possible she doesn't want me there to lower the tone of the affair anyway.)

I found out something about what I was in for, though, courtesy of Valentina Villanova. She called us – me and Viola, that is – to her this evening to have a bit of a chat. Some of it was to do with Regina, Viola's sister, but a lot of it was to do with me; me, of all people! Apparently, my strands are completely wonked – that 'why's she got a big--?' thing had nothing to do with my physical attributes but with my strands. Or rather, a strand – while there are others forming with Viola and Pietro and I assume the others, there's one that actually seems to be many strands all together; more like a rope than a strand. Or at least, that's what Princess Villanova tells me; I don't understand a word of it. But there was some close scrutiny of my strands and apparently this rope-thing is pointing towards Caligari Island. What do we know about Beatrice Caligari, anyway, because that name sends a chill up my spine and it's not just the little I've heard. Things like that keep dropping in my head as if from the outside (like this courtly lady business – all of a sudden I can at least dress the part, even if courtly manners have gone completely by the wayside by virtue of sheer panic about Sorte Strega poking at my strands all over the place) and I don't like it! I particularly don't like it when Princess Villanova informs me that I might – just might, mind you – have been a half-blood Strega and now the Tessatore wants a word. But she must be mistaken. I'm bound to have been courtesan if I was Vodacce at all – after all, I can read and write.

All the same, I'm tired and frightened and I'm going to go hug Pietro lots. Wonder if there's any of the wine we took after the banquet table shagging left… (Yes, we've shagged on Villanova's lovely banquet table. If Juliette's done it, and I'm just betting she has, I really don't want to think about it too hard.)

12 Quintus 1669

Do Tessatore lie? Are they ever mistaken? Oh, who am I kidding? I have ample proof of the whole thing and I didn't need bloody Francine and her bloody sarcasm to do the pointing out for me, thank you ever so bloody much! I just can't believe this is happening to me!

Right. I am going to calm down, and start again.

We had breakfast and talked wedding presents for Fiora and I think Pietro went off to see his daughter (Rosina was rather unpleasant about the whole business and said that Luisa was his but not at the same time; she's apparently denying Pietro access). That was understandably brief and after we had breakfast we went off to the Tessatore.

I don't like it here! I'm more at home than I think I should be and it's all very, very uncomfortable! Riding down vast heights in boats isn't exactly my idea of fun either. And the place the Tessatore lady lives in is frankly creepy; the outer walls and most of the rooms are absolutely crawling with spiders. Poor Pietro; I didn't know he was afraid of spiders but he went completely off his rocker – well, with the seven huge ones guarding the anteroom I shouldn't be at all surprised. We finally went to find the Tessatore and y'know, the fact that she was small and frail and under ordinary circumstances I could snap her like a twig without breaking a sweat didn't help one little bit. Still scared rigid of her – of the whole thing, to be honest.

She had a little something to say about everyone (told Francine to be more careful in future and insulted Axel and Sir Oswald a little; good thing they don't speak Vodacce) but she focused on some more than others. Apparently, Alejandro's well and truly bound to that bracelet thing now; taking it off might well kill him, even if there was a clasp or anything. And whether it's bending his strands there or it has strands of its own pulling him, that bracelet's got Alejandro connected to Caligari Island, same as me. Our fates and the Caligaris' are pretty well intertwined now and I've got no idea why.

Don't much care yet. I'm too frightened to care right now. According to our Tessatore hostess, I was once a Strega. How? Why? Great Theus, what does it take to rip the Sorte power right out of someone? The only relief I had from that shock was that she told me that the power was gone, dead, and I'd never have it again … and then she made a liar of herself. She…

(I am going to write this down, or I am going to stick this stupid pen through my hand.)

She pulled at my strands, and now I can see one. Just the one – that one everyone says looks like a rope but just looks like a strand of silver thread to me. Apparently, this one little strand that won't go away no matter how much I try to ignore it contains everything I used to be. And it apparently points right to Caligari Island. I don't know exactly who it's connected to, or what – it might be whoever did this to me, it might be to Lucrezia, it might be to Cabora itself for all I know. But it's all I used to be and now it's this solid line and it won't go away!

I am badly frightened. I used to be a Strega, and I can read. I used to be a Strega and I left. I knew it could be bad; I just never understood how bad. I don't even know which of the hunter families I need to avoid. Was I married? Did I ever have a child? Theus, am I still married, or did my possible husband give me up for dead? Who's my father, and does he want me back? What good am I to them if I'm not Strega, though? Oh, Theus, this is too complicated and big and frightening.

And Francine! Francine turning around and calling me "Lady Strega"! How could she? How dare she? How could she throw that up in my face like that? She knows how I feel about the power of Sorte, how it scares me; she saw me go through that horrible dinner party like a cowardly dog! And Viola fluttering around me like a mother hen and Pietro! Pietro and his, "Well, at least that remark about peasants … it doesn't apply to you anymore…" Eventually he stopped being a pillock and did try to be there for me, but all the same…

I don't know how to look at any of them anymore. I don't know who I am anymore. When business was slow and I couldn't sleep, I used to lie awake and think of all the things I could have been once. In my imagination, I've been a minor Castillian noble exiled from her home by the Montaigne, a pirate, a rogue scholar and a courtesan, and a half a dozen other more prosaic things besides. It's not fun anymore. I know too much, and it's all too big. I'd like to take hold of this strand and see if I can't finish it once and for all … but I'm far too afraid.

Wonder what Lucrezia'd do if I just threw myself off one of these walkways. I'd like to see her weave her way out of that one. I don't know how I'm supposed to live like this. I don't want to see strands, or be noble, or any of it. I just want to be Alison. What's wrong with being Alison?

(continued)

Simple little twists of fate...

We came out of a completely miserable lunch and Pietro had buggered off and completely deserted me ... and then it started raining Strega. Well, a Strega fell, jumped or was pushed off one of those stupid high walkways and landed in the canal. Well, I wasn't really all that keen on living anyway and thinking that, well, I've forgotten so much else that I might have forgotten I can swim, I went in after her along with Sir Oswald. Note to self: I cannot swim. At all. Particularly not in a dress with the heavy skirts and knives strapped to my calves. Probably should've drowned with the Strega, really, but that's not going to happen, apparently, since I managed to break surface with relatively little trouble apart from the fact that I wound up clinging to the side of a gondola coughing up approximately half the canal while Viola nearly tipped the boat over trying to help me back in. Sir Oswald, though, now he was a hero. Obviously couldn't swim either but managed to get to the Strega before she actually drowned and Axel threw her a rope and pulled them both ashore. And one look at Viola's face when we saw the Strega properly was all it needed to clue me in to the fact that the fallen Strega was Viola's sister Regina. Her husband's a right bastard, though; apparently treats Regina absolutely terribly and Regina can't do anything about it because, as someone finally got around to telling me, the bastard's Unbound. Anyway, the little bastard went up to Axel and started screaming at him about taking liberties and interfering with his wife -- after she'd fallen or jumped or whatever from one of the higher walkways and needed medical attention; that was big of the arsehole -- and then I think he slapped Axel in a "we must duel" kind of way and then Axel hit him in the throat. Something of a punch-up ensued and the duel, which would have been honour duel to first blood, was to the death. He did look a little off when we said that the challenge should be delivered to Prince Villanova's house but shook it off. So more duelling, and Fiora scares the beProphets out of me with all that talk about making swords hungry for blood and I don't want to think about Sorte or what it can do anymore so I just went back to the Villanova house as fast as I could.

Pietro was looking at me very strangely when I came in -- well, fine, I was soaking wet and probably looked appalling and was babbling about duels and Viola's sister and jumping off bridges, so I suppose he had every right to but all the same... I offered him the use of my Woundwort to coat his sword with for the duel and he just started to laugh and pulled out a potion of his own -- which explained where he'd been all afternoon. We ... well, got me out of those wet clothes and into some dry ones but not with any hurry on that latter and then went down to dinner. After that, we all went to spectate Pietro's duel, which he won rather handily, what with the throat-hit and the poison and all and apparently Rosina told him that wasn't how it was supposed to happen but perhaps that's what you get when you're a meddlesome gorecrow with the family sensibilities of an Unseelie. After that, we were going to head back to the palace to wait for Axel's challenge but there were arguments over what weapon Axel was going to use and I tried to give them a point of view that might work when trying to explain Axel's use of broadsword against rapier to the Villanova but Francine wouldn't even let me finish -- just told me that "I can't see how a common Jenny knows anything about swordplay" or something. Well, Pietro'd buggered off and I obviously wasn't any use for anything with Viola and Francine since they did nothing but yell and snipe at me and the others didn't really notice so I just buggered off on my own.

I wandered around Dionna and I think I could have got a lot of business if I'd had my mind on things but you know, I just don't really fancy shagging just anyone at the moment. At the time, most certainly it was the last thing on my mind because all I could think was "Pinned to bed by Scrivelli with knife. Knocked out by funny chemicals; woke up tied to chair with people threatening to cut my fingers off. More being tied to a chair with people threatening to cut my fingers off. More knocked out by funny chemicals. Become quivering lump of jelly in the presence of Strega tweaking my life and nearly drown myself trying to save a life. What the bloody hell am I good for?" I'm a good shag and a sometimes assassin but all I seem to do is put these people in a position where they have to rescue me and I don't want to be a burden to them and I particularly don't want Lucrezia to have any more leverage than she already seems to and ... well, I came very close to following in Regina's footsteps but I decided not to in the end, partly because I figured I owed at least two people a goodbye but mostly because while I can say, "I'd like to see Lucrezia weave her way out of that one", I really wouldn't, come to think.

Then again, she might've woven her way out of it anyway because after awhile, Viola and Pietro turned up behind me ... but of course, then they started arguing about Axel and his bloody DrachenEisen all over again so I just faded into the background again and when it finally died down to "snipe snipe snipe" I just asked why they bothered looking for me anyway and there was all this about my actually being useful and I suppose I have been -- killed a totem pole, blew the head off an Inquisitor, shagged them out of jail, fooled a Montaigne garrison, found glowy globe thing and notebooks (wonder what happened to that globe anyway...) And after awhile, what with really not having anything to lose and all that ... I told Pietro I loved him. Yes, I'm an idiot. He didn't say it back, but I know him well enough not to expect him to and at least he hugged me and all that. And I know it shouldn't matter at a time like this but at least I can still feel things and I suppose that's a good thing because if I didn't have things like connections to Pietro and Viola, never mind if they might get me killed, they're at least making me someone, instead of this strand-rope to Theus-knows-where... I don't know what I want at this point. I want to find out who I am, I want to stay being Alison forever and I just want to die and get it over with and I can't decide which comes first!

And then things started looking up. Whenever this duel with Regina's husband happens, we have a chance of getting Regina herself out. Fiora's going to gain me entrance and I'll slip in as a maid with a change of clothes for Regina; anyone asks me what I'm doing, I'll just wave 'laundry' in their face and say, "Scusi, signore" and run off before they work out what's going on. No one pays attention to servants anyway, and I should know. Anyway, then we sneak out together, Regina and I, and then we get on a horse and run like buggery. Now all we need is a safe place to keep her until Francine can do her part. Must rack my brains for Daughter's safehouse.

Well, look on the bright side; if I succeed and survive, I'll feel myself to be worth something and this whole wanting-to-die thing will calm down a little. If I fail, I'll die trying, and then it won't be an issue anyway. So either way I win.

13 Quintus 1669

Some people say that 13 is an unlucky number and an unlucky day. Apparently not so much, given everything that went on.

For a change, I woke up before Pietro, but that might have something to do with the fact that I went to bed obscenely early because quite frankly, I was terribly tired after an insanely long conversation with Viola and Fiora about what to do about Regina. The plan got changed out of all recognition, but I suppose that's all right because I'm hopeless at that sort of thing anyway and this meant that Regina would get to see a familiar face – though it's a shame for Viola and I to get so snippy at each other when all we're trying to do is what's best, not to mention what we're actually in the Daughters for in the first place…

So the new plan was that we'd both sneak in as maids, get to Regina, break her out as quietly as humanly possible and then make a dash for the alley across the street, where Fiora would be waiting with her horse and a horse-and-cart, which we would toss Regina into and use to make our getaway. Which worked out absolutely fine except for the fact that I managed to completely cock up my hit on one of the door guards at palazzo Villanova and it was only down to Regina that we got out at all – that girl is a wicked shot with an ornamental plate and that kind of thing simply has to run in the family…

Well, and then there was the entire problem with the bloody horse bolting out from under me and chucking Viola out onto the pavement directly in front of Regina's husband. Apparently, the man was so … so pompous and oily and up himself that he actually hired a swordsman to fight the duel for him and wouldn't even be there for the actual duel, not even as a spectator. Wonder what would've happened if Axel had won; I mean, I wouldn't expect anyone who wouldn't even attend his own bloody duel to have the common decency to accept defeat and write the apology letter he expected from Axel… Well, no matter; Viola dispatched Regina's bastard of a husband quick enough and we're now on a ship for Castille, which is a bloody relief though I know it can't last because of this stupid strand and the Father's stupid bracelet and all of us tied to Caligari Island like we're on a leash.

Speaking of leashes, Pietro has bought a puppy to give Fiora as a wedding gift. I really must sit down and see what Viola got her; she tried to show me earlier but I didn't have a lot of time before the rescue thing and I needed to get her something because … well, I didn't think it was going to go so well and I wanted to at least get her something in case I didn't survive the entire mess. I got her some very nice undergarments, remembering that a lot of Castillian men appreciate that kind of thing. I also got a pair for myself, so I can't have been that keen to die. On the other hand, you know what they say about wearing clean underwear in case you're run over by a cart…

I actually managed the shopping on my own, too, because Pietro paid me back the loan I gave him the other week. He's got the other four hundred or so senators tucked away in a strongbox someplace and I'll get it out of him in bits as necessary, or all at once when we can exchange it for something a little more portable. It sounds like so much when it's in senators, doesn't it? Anyway, he seemed well chuffed that I came back from my little mission, though he didn't want to know very much about it, but I suppose that's not entirely surprising, given that apparently Viola threatened him with "dangerous Jennys" at one point and apparently his father gave him the shafting of a lifetime for all the money he borrowed so he really doesn't want to piss off Villanovas of any description.

Last thing – Regina mentioned that her husband was a member of an organisation called NOM. Have you ever heard of them? If so, it might be an idea to let Viola in on just what she's in for because apparently this Fausto Villanova is very well connected there and even the fact that he died before he could make use of those connections didn't seem to bother him, if what Viola says is true.

14 Quintus 1669

I'm fairly sure this is going to be of no interest to the Daughters whatsoever, except as a show of just how blasted dumb people can occasionally be, and how idiotic love is. Ah well, it's as much my journal as theirs, so...

Alright, I know that there will be people reading these things eventually, so can someone tell me just how the bloody hell I was found anyway? Then again, I'm not sure if there's any point in asking in the first place because every time I ask for details about what my life used to be like or anything that I can't remember -- and even when I don't, for Theus' sake -- people keep giving me information that makes no sense! I thought that maybe, just maybe if I put on the stupid Strega dress and had a look that maybe something would come back to me but I tried on the dress that Francine had from one of the Strega that 'Bernadette Sophia' was helping and there was absolutely nothing; no spark of anything whatsoever! I had a chat with Viola and Francine about the whole thing and there were any number of theories and none of them fit with what I've been told and what I feel -- at least not properly. I mean, I feel more at home on the sea than I do in that stupid dress, and apparently I could have been like Fiora and just been sent around travelling to do duties for my family but Fiora doesn't sail and I do! Or I could have been ... oh, what's the use? I used to sit and think that I could be an unhomed Castillian noble and that's obviously not the case...

I'm upset about more than that, unfortunately. We went to this pre-wedding dinner and no one could get within a half-mile of Fiora or her new husband Sebastian, so it's just as well that I had my little gift-giving and words of encouragement on the ship before we got here because Theus knows I probably didn't want her opening sexy underwear in front of the wedding guests... In any case, there was mingling and things in the garden afterwards and Pietro was all in a grump because Fiora wasn't getting stuck with some seventy-year-old wreck of a man. We tried having a conversation with Gianni Bernoulli (I think he wanted further dirt on Fiora or Sebastian or both) but it all went to the Abyss in a handcart when he started talking about the sewers of Charouse and man-eating trees so once again, despite the fact that I really couldn't give two figs about 'polite society' most of the time, I managed to pull the conversation away from that particular topic -- in fact, pull it away from Pietro in general -- before he completed the job of making the Villanova look like a bunch of loonies. So then, of course, Gianni starts flirting and he's very, very good at it and Pietro's just standing there letting him; wouldn't even step in when Gianni asked what I was doing with Pietro in the first place. Oh, I suppose he must have been curious about my answer, and by that time I was well hacked off with him for letting me flounder when he asked, if I wasn't an Explorer, what I did (I said 'independent lady of means'; I don't really want to know what he thought), so I said that there was a matter of funding, which is true in a way because he still has my money in senators. So he said that I could have that money any time I liked but that I had to carry it home and that just about tore it for me because, well, I love him but he's so infuriating and now he's just treating me like a Jenny so I just left it there for awhile.

But of course, I softened up when Pietro began to sulk and tried to have a civilised word with him but he, Axel and Sir Oswald were having one of those blokely chats and something about 'Orlando' came up and it all became something of a mess because, what with Pietro drinking and all, I sort of forced his dalliance with a cabin boy into the light ... directly in front of Sir Oswald, with whom he'd been flirting. You know, I'm not sorry in the slightest? It was probably the best part of the evening and after I'd pissed Pietro off royally, I thought I'd compound the job by going off and speaking to Gianni again. He told me he dealt in Crescent goods, which I thought was lucky as I wanted someone to have a look at that broche I picked up on that stupid island except he said that it wasn't Crescent; just had Crescent elements. There was flirting all 'round and I told him we could ... erm, 'continue our conversation' at the reception because I figured by that time Pietro would have either made some effort to apologise for being a complete pillock or compounded the situation such that I wouldn't mind a change of scenery, if you see what I mean. Besides, he may well have thought I was Pietro's courtesan, given what I said earlier in the evening.

Now, I've never had one of those discussions with a man -- well, not that I recall anyway -- not the ones where the woman takes the man to task for not being candid about his feelings and so on and so forth. It went too fast to give word-for-word, but eventually it boiled down to me saying, "You treat me like just another Jenny!" and him saying, "I do not!" and me saying, "A courtesan, then, and it's about the same thing!" and him saying, "I do not treat you like a courtesan either! And it's not the same thing! You can fall in love with a courtesan!" Now, if I'm completely honest, I should have seen exactly what he meant but I was upset and he was being a git, so I just said, "So you can fall in love with a courtesan ... but you don't treat me like one" and walked out. I thought Viola was probably asleep -- she'd had a frustrating evening trying to get hold of Regina (who is now Rebecca) and Fiora and having no luck either way -- so I went to Francine and she was very nice about the whole thing; hugged me before she said anything (she'd heard most of the argument, of course -- half the house probably did) and stepped out to find a bottle of wine, which we finished in short order while discussing what in Theus' name is wrong with that man.

Pietro knocked twice. First time we just let him. Second time, I had to hear what he had to say for himself and, after he'd got the silly jokes out of his system, I went out with the empty wine bottle and, if I know myself at all anymore, a look that said, "You'd better impress me". Well, I don't know about 'impressed' but certainly surprised because he turned around and started screaming "I LOVE ALISON WHATEVERYOURNAMEIS!" at the top of his lungs. In several languages. He can remember his Castillian and Eisen but can't remember the surname 'Smith'. (Did I ever tell him my adopted surname? Well, I've been introduced around enough so that he'd know it, surely ... but then, he was drunk.) Now, given what I've read in his journals (we each know that the other has read our respective journals, but what he doesn't know is that he's been reading a 'Pietro-friendly' version I've been leaving lying around just in case since I saw his), he doesn't say that word lest he be kicked in the teeth so he was either really drunk, really desperate or he really meant it. But Francine was telling me just last week that Pietro is one of those people who can love one person and then be in love with someone else next week and I suppose that's probably true because he obviously still has feelings for Fiora but all the same, he sounded like he meant it. Maybe it's just that I can't remember anyone loving me so I can't exactly have a basis for comparison, but I don't think everyone sees what I see in Pietro -- he's so good at being a Vodacce man that I suppose he has a hard time just being Pietro, which is the bit I actually love.

I told him I'd let him see if he still meant it in the morning. He'll have the wedding to sit through then, and then maybe we'll see how true love really is.

15 Quintus 1669

Bloody … bloody … bloody Lucrezia! She turned up at the wedding, of all things! She said she blessed the wedding but I don't trust 'blessings' like hers. But then, she also turned up to give us all a right bollocking for taking a holiday instead of doing what she wanted us to do, the slave-driving bint. Oh, the whole thing's simply dreadful and what a thing to happen on Fiora's wedding day.

Of course, it was all a bit ridiculous anyway; Fiora looked absolutely radiant but Pietro wouldn't know because he simply refused to look at her. Oh, for pity's sake, this is ridiculous – I love the man dearly and yet he's still got this thing for Fiora and it's fairly obviously mutual and a part of me would just really like to let him have her but frankly she won't have him because she's not really equipped to do anything but be the dutiful little Strega – at least not yet – wonder if she'll be taking any lessons from the Castillian… In any case, the ceremony went well and he didn't even try to say anything during the "if there be any man present" part, which was a blessed relief, and then the bloody Strega turned up. She yelled at us all for not going directly to Caligari Island but thankfully didn't do anything to us; just succinctly reminded us that we have our parts to play, and this apparently particularly pertains to Alejandro and Viola … oh, and me, of course. Surprisingly, I mustered enough courage to ask a question and she was actually … well, fine, she didn't answer me in any clear way, but she did let me ask the thing with only a token threat, which is probably as close to civilised as that complete lunatic is ever going to get so I'll just thank Theus for small favours. I suppose she did give me something in response to my question, which was, "Who was it who unwound me in the first place, if you wound me back up again?" – she said that I'd find out there, and it would involve 'him'. Great Theus, Javier isn't going to be there, is he? How am I supposed to recognise him? How am I supposed to identify him as needing saving if I don't even know who he is? And what is this man to me, in any case? Oh, Theus, please don't tell me I've fallen in love only to run into the previous occupant of my heart – I don't think I could bear it on top of everything else…

She said something else too – something about Pietro, and useful too, if chilling. She enquired about his shoulder, and when she left, when he went all bluster and huff about it all being 'showmanship', I noticed a blood-mark on his shoulder, where he got stabbed in the duel with Rosina's former lover, and when I ripped his shirt to one side to get a closer look and show him the mark, it was obviously poisoned. Showmanship? Showmanship my arse – she knew. That Rosina bitch had him poisoned – I'd wondered what that stupid man meant about 'this isn't how she said it would happen'… She might have told that blundering fool of an ex-lover that Pietro was going to die as a result of that duel, and she was possibly being honest, but she wanted the ex-lover gone too, so … that lying, scheming, double-dealing, vindictive bitch! The only way she's going to see the end of Sextus from this side of Paradise is if Pietro survives or I die on Caligari Island – if she's managed to poison Pietro, I'm going to hunt her down and kill the evil bitch and I don't care what she does to me.

See, it turns out that Pietro did mean everything he said last night. Of course, it's apparently going to get him in dreadful trouble with his father when he finds out that Pietro was 'dishonouring the family name' in such a manner, which I suppose compounds the fact that he means it. The thing is, I know he still loves Fiora too because he turned around to Fiora's new husband and said that he'd kill him if he ever made Fiora unhappy. I think there was very nearly a duel and I know that Fiora slapped him and gave him a right telling off and she obviously had no idea what to do with the knowledge that he still loves her and … well, I know one shouldn't do this with the one they love but Fiora was so upset and I couldn't help myself. When she wished me every happiness and told me not to let Pietro do to me the things he did to her, I told her very quietly that every time he did, I kicked him where it hurts … and I offered to demonstrate on her behalf, as another part of my wedding gift. I underestimate Fiora a great deal and should really stop – she took me up on it. Poor lad wandered off in a bit of a sulk but did manage to come back eventually, in a dreadful hurry to leave. We need to find him a doctor, though – that poison may be slow-acting but I don't want him suffering any longer than he needs to.

To close the book on Gianni Bernoulli, he told me that the entire house eventually heard about the fact that Pietro loves me, and then he said, "But I could love you better". Seemed very amused when I just cuddled up to Pietro in response. Ah, let him have his fun – he might be good in bed as he claims to be, but I think that a better love is a love that's willing to make a bit of an arse of itself to make sure the object of affection doesn't get away.

I don't know how I can be so happy when I'm about to meet my fate on Caligari Island in Theus only knows what sense of the word. I've had Strega looking at me like scholars look at rats in mazes, I see a single strand, I'm the focus of attention of far too many influential people and I have no idea who I really am … and yet I'm happy. Maybe that's the secret – be yourself, as hard and as much as you can. And anyway, aren't I terribly lucky, when you think about it? Since it seems I was Strega, I'm sure a great many of them would die for such an opportunity – look at Regina/Rebecca! Not only have I had a year or two of living in the outside world, but I've done it without the constant fear of being hunted. Even if they burn me, I'll have still had that.

16 Quintus 1669

I feel terrible for Viola after last night. The one time she gets some male attention that isn't a member of the party (oh, I think Sir Oswald finally figured out that Viola's a girl), it turns out badly for her. She accepted an invitation to walk in the garden with some unnamed Vodacce man and after awhile, we got a bit worried about her -- particularly Sir Oswald, who seems to have this "Damsel in distress" sense that no one else can fathom -- and when we went out into the gardens and beyond, we saw this bunch of Vodacce bastards trying to kidnap her! Of course, I couldn't very well enter the fray with any kind of speed given the fact that I was in my party dress, but it could've been worse; seems Francine went in with her powers and got rather badly wounded for her troubles but at least shook one of the Vodacce men off Viola so she had a better chance of fighting her way free. One of them let go of Viola and ran off to his boat and that left two -- one of them got knocked right off a cliff by Axel, and Axel then menaced the other one so badly he whimpered like a little girl and ran away. Wasn't letting any of them get away with it if I could help it, so I took a shot at the retreating boat and from the looks of things, I got Viola's brother in the shoulder. It made her happy, and that's the main thing.

Today, we're on a boat to Dionna and I can tell you, it's not pleasant. We had to take our leave of Idunn, who is taking 'Rebecca' with her to Vendel (because, let's face it, given the public duel to the death between 'Orlando' and Fausto Villanova, it's not going to take anyone long to work out that 'Rebecca' is in Castille with Fiora). She was actually much nicer to me than I expected her to be -- I hadn't even considered she'd say good-bye. I was afraid I'd have made a huge faux-pas when I told her I'd try to make sure her husband came back to her safely, just on the basis that I'm sure she doesn't want me eyeing her husband, but maybe my relationship with Pietro has put her at ease about that because she just thanked me. Perhaps she's not so bad after all, though I wish she'd been as accepting of who I am while we were travelling together instead of just waiting until she could stop travelling with me to say anything remotely nice about me...

Pietro just kept getting worse -- cold sweats and other general miseries and I tell you, I just can't stand seeing him like this. Despite the fact that he's supposed to be in a weakened state, he keeps insisting on arguing with me about going to confront his wife. I mean, surely I have enough of a vested interest in his well-being that I'm entitled -- nay, obliged to beat that atrocious woman's face in for trying to kill the man I love? Oh, fine, she's a bloody Strega and she'd probably kill me soon as look at me and she'd certainly try to kill me if I went after her but you know what? I don't care. Over the past few days, I've faced Strega a lot more powerful than this veiled upstart of a black widow-in-training; between Valentina Villanova, the Tessatore lady and bloody Lucrezia, I tend to think Rosina looks rather sick and powerless so it's hard to be frightened of her. And it's even harder to be frightened of her when all the fear's being burned away by blind, screaming rage at the fact that this horrible woman is killing Pietro in what looks to be a horribly painful way.

It was almost amusing. Pietro said something about, "She might not even just kill you; but she could make your life a living hell". Funny; the last time someone 'made my life a living hell' by tweaking my strands all to buggery, I spent two years Jennying and so forth and then suddenly found myself on some fantastic adventures with a group of friends -- one of them like a sister to me and another someone I actually love. I just have a hard time taking that threat seriously, though it doesn't stop me from flinching every time some Strega reaches for my strands. And of course, that's happened a lot lately -- every time some Strega gets a look at my bloody strands, they look at me as if I'm some particularly interesting tapestry -- which I suppose I am, in a way. I just prefer it when the admiring glances have more to do with me than ... well, what someone's done to my life.

Not much time now. We dock in the morning and we'll try to find an apothecary but I'm getting the sneaking suspicion that no matter how much he wants to avoid it, we're going to have to see "Rosina evil wife creature" while we're back in Dionna. Letters like the one she sent to us this morning are too bloody smug to come from anywhere but allfired assurance that there is only one road to salvation and that's through them. Dear Theus, I know I'm not the most godly woman, and given my profession I can't simply promise things like chastity and you probably already dislike me because I must have been a Vaticine and now I'm not (unless the Objectionists really are right and this whole thing was simply a way to bring me to true faith, but I'll leave that point of philosophy to the Father) but ... a simple prayer, all the same. Please, grant me the strength to not do anything overly stupid to Rosina Villanova, the fortitude to prevent Pietro from doing anything equally stupid, and the wisdom to get him through this alive...

(PS: I must be worried about him. I actually wore the Strega dress for him last night.)

17 Quintus 1669

Pietro keeps telling me that I am -- or I come across as, at least -- very Vodacce, and I suppose he's probably right, so maybe that's how I could do what I did today and why I hate myself so much right now.

We finally arrived at Dionna and Pietro was just getting worse all the time, and yet he still wanted to leave me out of the proceedings despite the fact that Vodacce or not, I've still got more experience with poisons than he has (you can never count yourself truly experienced with poisons until you've made yourself immune to one) and despite the fact that I'm not some vedova who can be ordered around. I eventually won out, probably mostly because he didn't have the strength to argue with me and didn't particularly want to cause a scene, and we headed off to that apothecary he bought the woundwort from the last time -- it's actually a well-appointed establishment and if I thought we were spending any time in Dionna I'd probably do a bit more shopping there but we couldn't even get Viola to come off the ship so I didn't want to dawdle. The apothecary identified what he'd been poisoned with right enough ... except then he told us that a woman matching Rosina evil wife creature's description had bought out his entire supply of antidote, and had been going around the other apothecaries in the city doing the same thing (though I could have guessed she'd do that; maybe I am more Vodacce than I like to think). So we had very little recourse but to go to the hotel she'd sent that bloody letter from and listen to her terms.

Actually; no. We did have other recourse. They could have let me go to the bloody hotel and beaten that appalling woman silly, but I suppose given how she'd set things up that such action wouldn't have got Pietro the antidote ... but Theus take it I'd have felt better. All the same, I suppose it's just as well that Sir Oswald and Pietro stopped me from doing anything overly stupid ... except, of course, the only reason I really stopped was because Pietro was taking a turn for the worse, coming over all delirious. (He called me Fiora. I can't really blame him, and should probably be grateful he's never done that in bed, but Theus, it hurt...) So instead of storming in and beating the living daylights out of that woman, I went quietly with Sir Oswald and Pietro, sat down in the hotel bar and ... well, Pietro tried telling Rosina he was fine and there's no way of contradicting that without hurting Pietro's pride but Sir Oswald and I had to do it anyway and then, knowing how large a barrel she had us over, Rosina produced a document for Pietro to sign. This document basically said something about "the undersigned, being of sound mind and body, does give up all claim to his daughter, Lucia Villanova, in favour of the mother" and Pietro ripped it to pieces, at which point Rosina walked away. Sir Oswald stalled her while I talked to Pietro -- I don't think I'd have got away with any of it if he hadn't been delirious, but I had to say something to make him sign the damn thing; I know Pietro has no regard for bits of paper, legal or not. I basically said something about him not being of sound mind and body when he signed it (because of being poisoned) and having witnesses to prove it and never mind the fact that an Avalon (Knight of Elaine or not) and a common Jenny of no name, family or even nationality wouldn't count against the witnesses Rosina could buy. I just needed him to sign the damn thing and save his own life, and didn't much care what I had to do to make it happen.

Pietro signed his daughter away and we got the antidote -- much like the document itself, I had to force the antidote on Pietro. Then we went back to the ship, and I've thrown on some of Viola's clothes (a little tight in places, but otherwise not bad) and am going to spend the voyage to Caligari Island helping the crew, preferably in the rigging where no one'll much be able to talk to me. I feel like such a horrible person just now, partly because I still feel the sting of Pietro calling me Fiora even though I know he didn't know what he was saying but mostly because I made Pietro do something that was really against his nature and never mind the fact that he'll probably ignore that stupid piece of paper anyway and spend a great deal of Lucia's upbringing annoying the veil off Rosina-evil-wife-creature, it's the principle! If Lucia asks about her daddy again, that evil black-hearted bitch can actually show the poor child a piece of documentation that says her father signed her away, and never mind if the child can ever read or not! It makes my heart hurt for him, and I don't know how to face him after I've done that to him.

18 Quintus 1669

I suppose, given everything that's been going on, it shouldn't be too surprising that I've come over all peculiar, but all the same, I suppose even I can acknowledge in the cold light of ... well, it's night, really... Anyway, I've gone exceedingly strange, as if I don't really care about all that much at the moment, which I suppose I don't, when it comes to that -- after all, what is there to care for at this point? Now that he's in full control of his mind and body, Pietro must despise me for making him sign that horrible document and even if he didn't, it's Fiora he wants at his side in times of strife if his delirium babble is any indication, and it usually is, much as I hate to admit it, so probably I'm right to back away from him because frankly, it hurts less to back off myself than to watch him do it. I'm not sure how I know that but I suppose it's just an instinctive thing because there it is, large as life and twice as frightening, the thought that he might turn on me and then I'd have to hear him take the whole thing back and I couldn't bear it. All the same, I have got to stop behaving like a lunatic.

When we got into port, I was back in the rigging, trying to forget ... well, everything. There's something soothing about not being a Jenny or an assassin or a Daughter or a former Strega -- don't have to be a lady, don't have to be defined by my gender, don't have to go around shooting or poisoning people... But of course, I had people hollering at me to come down out of that safe haven because it's my stupid visible strand they're going to be following despite the fact that they should well have their own bloody sources of information to follow, thank you so very bloody much. Axel was being particularly rude, so I gave him the V-sign and dropped a shoe on his head, and when people seemed to wonder what else was coming off ... well, I went a little mad; climbed up to the crow's nest and stripped to my undergarments. Sir Oswald seemed fairly impressed, but I suppose that's to be expected; despite all his flirting, he's never seen quite that much of me and I get the impression he's keen to see more, so it's probably quite a shame I think he's thick as pigshit. Eventually I came down out of the rigging and put a dress on so I could almost pass for a lady, but I really was not in the mood for that sort of bollocks, particularly not after noticing that, now that we were on the Island, I could see that my stupid strand is pointing downwards; not straight but diagonal. I could follow it, but it occurred to me when Francine and I were looking for a suitable inn to stay in during our little jaunt that the downward course could mean that whatever or whoever I'm connected to is in a dungeon. So I needed to talk to Pietro after all, though I'd been trying to avoid it for most of the morning, because Theus knows that there hasn't been such thing as coincidence for awhile and if my strand's connected to a dungeon and Pietro's apparently obliged to break someone out of one, you can bet it's at least the same bloody dungeon.

The others spent the morning finding an informant and it's a shame I wasn't there because he sounded like just the type who might be more amenable to my charms than to Pietro's questionable negotiation skills, but he did manage to engage the informant's services at a not-unreasonable price (and I paid half the initial outlay, so he's better off than he expected to be) and he was to be met at midnight. This gave us suitable amounts of bickering time over the plan to meet the informant and the rest of the afternoon to go shopping. I finally got myself that pair of tight leather trousers I'd been craving and it looks just as good as I thought it would with a corset. I look quite the dangerous type, which I suppose fits, given that Pietro still takes to calling me a "dangerous Jenny", and it's almost a term of endearment now...

Oh, Theus, must stop this. He can't still feel like that after what I did to him...

Anyhow, I managed to convince everyone that the best way of going about the meeting with the informant was for Pietro and Sir Oswald, who'd made the initial approach, to go openly and have me follow them as quietly and stealthily as possible because that way, if I saw something terrible happen to them, I'd be free to try to help them in some way and if I couldn't find a way to help them, I could run back and get the others. I wasn't having a repeat of the situation where the majority of the party was tied to chairs in a Vodacce pub; I wanted to make sure the rescue force was formidable if it came down to anything bad, and anyway, I had every intention of sending Rhianna instead of going myself because she's much faster than me and it'd have left me with the opportunity to shoot whatever bastard was trying to hurt the boys. Of course, it turned out not to be necessary because the informant was found extremely dead in the alley the boys were supposed to meet him in and he'd obviously been searched but he managed to keep a hold of a single piece of paper. Seems Viola got in her questions about NOM because the paper had three words in what Pietro tells me is Old Thean written on it -- Novus Ordum Mundi. He says it means "New World Order". I'd say that doesn't sound so bad, except for the whole thing about that little slip of paper probably being what they killed the poor informant for in the first place. Anyway, it is a terrible shame about Pietro not getting the information about the dungeon but at least he's not completely lost and seeing as I'm probably the only one who could find the way in (because of this stupid, stupid, stupid strand!), he's not going to be able to even try to leave me behind this time.

Then again, dungeons may have to wait because as we were heading back to the inn, a man all covered in scars who sounds a lot like the description Francine gave of that man back in Porta Spatia burst out a window carrying a young woman, went down the wall on a rope and bundled himself and the woman into a carriage, which drove off. Then a badly hurt Castillian man asked us to help her, but we couldn't stop the carriage or even catch up with it so whatever we do for this poor gentleman (if anything, but I know Sir Oswald and his damsel in distress sense so I doubt we'll get away with not doing anything) is going to have to wait until morning and some serious discussion with the others. As I said before, I've stopped believing in coincidence and just because we didn't recognise the Castillian man or the kidnapped lady doesn't mean that one of the others won't.

All this coincidence and entwined fate and madness, madness all around. Sisters, I say this with all conviction and not a little melodrama -- I am fortune's fool!!!

19 Quintus 1669 (early)

I wrote my last from Ramon's inn while I was waiting for Sir Oswald and Pietro to turn up with a doctor. Now I'm writing from our inn while I keep an eye on Pietro. I suppose I should be glad he's wounded, but I can't seem to be somehow, no matter how much easier this makes things with regards to this stupid strand.

You see, it was basically my duty as a good Objectionist (and possibly a good Vaticine as well, I don't know) to try to patch up the Castillian man's wounds and find out what he knew about why his lady had been kidnapped. When Sir Oswald and Pietro finally brought the doctor, he turned out to be a grumpy old fart who criticised my bandaging technique and generally made himself unpleasant -- now, I don't care what time of day it is; if you've chosen the medical profession you should bloody well get used to being woken up at unTheusly hours of the morning to tend to the wounded and there's no need to be an old bugger about it. Either way, I paid the stupid man for his time and ... well, Pietro tried to reimburse me half the cost of the doctor. Bloody hell, I don't want his money, and his putting it down my cleavage is so much in the way of paying a bloody Jenny that I simply took the money and threw it back in his face. I really shouldn't be so stroppy about the whole thing, I know, given that this is probably the last night I'll ever see him but how can he spend our last little while together like that? I don't know; I suppose I'm confused. Either way, I sent Rhianna up with a message to the others and they all turned up and surprise, surprise, they recognised the Castillian (Ramon). They'd met this couple before, Theus knows where, and now we were very much obliged to go and save them so the dungeons or wherever my bloody strand leads are going to have to wait until morning. And Pietro won't be going at all.

There was a bizarre comedy of errors involving Viola, Axel and Sir Oswald pretending to be drunkards, Pietro sneaking around like some sort of assassin (and coming out very wet and covered in blood that wasn't his) and as for me? Well, when we saw the coach that the scarred man had used to run off with this Helena woman, we basically guessed that the scarred man was on that boat (but he's Vodacce, so why we didn't expect cunning, I don't know) and wanted to get on board to see if he had Helena there so I caused a distraction the only way I know how. I owe the Guild a Senator in the first paying job I've taken since ... well, at the very least since Pietro, but I suppose that's alright because I do feel I've been slipping with regards to my tithes and things though I suppose they don't much mind because it means I'm doing something else and maybe getting out of the life. Oh, never mind; it caused a distraction but it turned out to be unnecessary because it was the wrong bloody boat and when Francine was sensible and asked if this was the scarred man's boat, they said he'd left them the coach and gone to another ship. So we tried to get on board that one and we turned out even worse. I was only trying to get past the guards with someone they were obviously happy to let on the ship when I called Sir Oswald my cousin but that got him stopped and now Sir Oswald thinks I'm in league with the scarred man and it's all got incredibly stupid.

All the same, I stopped paying attention when Pietro came out of the captain's cabin backwards, full of sword holes. Francine was good enough to sneak up on him and shoot at him, but the sneaky scarred bastard's married to a Strega and she made Francine's second shot misfire. Then, thank Theus for her, Viola came up behind the Strega and put a knife to her throat, so there was no more of that kind of malarkey, and Sir Oswald did something that looked like Glamour magic; shot him with an arrow that apparently put him to sleep -- something about his rest not being easy but I wouldn't know. In any event, I secured the Strega and basically put the fear of Theus into her -- I don't think I've ever spoken to a Strega in such a way; said something like, "You think you can intimidate me by playing with my strands? Look at me." You never saw such a look of confusion on a human face. Then I told her to tell me anything she could about her theories on what had happened to me and where the big strand might point. I had to make Viola take her sword away from the poor woman's neck to do it, as something of a show of good faith, I suppose. She couldn't tell me anything new about how or why it was done, but she could tell me the only place on this Theus-forsaken island that my strand could possibly be pointing -- Caligari's dungeons. As if we couldn't have guessed that for ourselves, I suppose, but I wanted confirmation.

After that, I had to take Pietro back to that grumpy-arse doctor while the others took the scarred man (Alesandro, I think) to the authorities. I really wasn't in the mood to deal with the grumpy doctor git's complaining so while he greeted me with invective, I greeted him with a flintlock in the face. He healed Pietro up as best he could, charged a bloody fortune for it and let me take him back to the inn.

We couldn't even have the argument that's been brewing. He was too weak and I was too upset. Eventually he just passed out and now I'm sitting here in a chair next to his bed wondering what to say to him when one or both of us wakes up in the morning. I have to keep him here; he can't go into dungeons in this condition; he'd die. Then again, even the healthiest and sturdiest of us might die tomorrow, which I suppose is why the others are downstairs drinking -- "Eat, drink and be merry ... for tomorrow we die". But I don't want to do that, despite the fact that they sound like they're having a lovely time of it. I need to think of a way to keep Pietro here while we go down to the dungeons I know he wants to break into ... and I need to find a way to tell him I love him before I go. I don't expect a reply anymore, I suppose, but I have to say it. It's important that there are no loose ends. Loose ends are what led me here.

I don't pray much, but I'm doing so today. Theus, watch over me and mine.

21 Quintus 1669

I would have written about all this sooner, but frankly it's been a lot to take in. I brought this with me because I was afraid Pietro might get into it despite having the decoy about ... but now it seems that I have bigger things to worry about ... like what happened to Caligari Island, or where we're actually going, or maybe whether there'll still be a world to go back to when we get off this bloody ship.

After stowing this journal, I kept watch over Pietro (didn't want to sleep in the same bed in case I rolled over and bumped a wound or something) and eventually fell asleep in the bloody chair. Woke up to find him manhandling me -- he said something about trying to put me to bed; in his condition? Is he insane? In any case, Francine pointedly knocked on the door a short while later offering me café and generally indicating that it was time to get a start on the day because I'm the one they're relying on to lead us to where we have to go and can I just say that I despise being the one they have to follow? I don't like that kind of attention, thank you! In any case, I drank some of the café (I was grateful for that, at least -- didn't get much sleep last night) and then went back in to talk to Pietro about his presence, or lack thereof, in the dungeon break-in.

It didn't go well, exactly. I mean, I got what I wanted -- he stayed behind -- but I have any number of reasons for hating the fact that he did. I was so convinced that in his state, he'd have got killed if he went to the Caligari dungeons that I wasn't letting him wheedle his way out of the fact that he's grievously injured and weak and needing to stay in bed. He apparently has to report back to someone (Bernoulli, though he won't admit it) about what strange and secret and special thing is in the dungeons, and steal it if it's of interest and not dangerous. I promised to do what I could to complete his mission and went to have some breakfast; I don't mean to make him feel less like a man but frankly, it's better to have a woman do your work for you if you're kitten-weak in any case. Besides, I'm a 'dangerous Jenny', whatever else I found out over the past few days; I'm more than capable of a little spy work.

Just before we left, I realised I couldn't just leave it there with Pietro; I did not want his last sight of me to be my bossing him around like an old mother hen -- it lacks poetry. Instead, I ran up to his room, kissed him as hard as I dared in his condition and told him, "Always remember that I love you". Then went away before he had to worry about saying it back -- I know those aren't words that come easily to him. Wish I hadn't cried on the way out, though; I can be such a soppy twerp sometimes.

In any case, they followed me and it was the strangest thing -- how the strand looked didn't change, but it felt a little different. It was sort of as if ... well, it'll sound silly but it was sort of like destiny pulling me along, telling me which way to go. At least it didn't lead me into solid walls or anything, which I suppose it should've done; strands connect as the crow flies, normally. Either way, we turned up at this sewer grating and Francine, who's a bit of a dark horse in these matters, opened a little Porté hole and pulled out a set of lock-picking tools. She made short work of the door lock and in we went, into foetid water and darkness and general yick. By this time, the strand was glowing a little and the Father's bracelet was apparently 'thrumming' (whatever in the name of Theus that means) so it was obvious that we were getting closer. After walking for awhile, we came upon this door -- well, it looked a bit like artwork at first but Alejandro touched the door and the bracelet glowed a bit and some funny Syrneth writing lit up and the door opened. Oh, Pietro would have loved to have been there; it was something any Explorer would've killed to see. Unfortunately, we then heard guards coming but there was no way I was going to go skulk and hide from a couple of pansy Vodacce guards after the things I've been through the past couple of months so I just stood there and the first one had me pointing a gun in their face and asking for information they obviously didn't have. (I hate the goon squad. Goon squad never has any good information.) We eventually just had to tie them up and sneak the way my strand was leading -- straight down. I can't possibly have been the only one who wondered if we'd end up in Legion's pit if we kept going the way we were, can I? There were odd devices and ... well, bodies, for the most part ... in some of the cells, apparently, but I was somewhat beyond noticing, particularly when we came to one door, where my strand was pointing. Francine kindly picked the lock, and I tried to be careful about opening the door but I saw something -- might have been a Fate strand, I don't know -- snap as I moved the door and so I figured we'd all better move fast and get whoever or whatever was in there out.

How do you address someone who knows you better than you know yourself? I had my suspicions, but I couldn't just go and say, "Javier, we're here to rescue you" because I didn't know it was Javier, for a start, and it's not a name I'm supposed to say to anybody so I wasn't exactly going to go around announcing this with people around. Just as well. The man in the cell's name is Allende -- oh, there's no point in being coy now; Allende's the name he took after being sent to la Bucca. He used to be called Javier, and that's all I can say, even to you. And thankfully, he recognised me -- vaguely. I don't know how I can have changed that much in just over a year, but he was a little the worse for wear, I suppose ... and he called me 'Alesio'. Boy's name, but I suppose, runaway Strega… In any case, the fact that he knew me was probably the only reason he was willing to follow us, but again, that's something I found out from conversation later, because at the time, I was in no state to notice anything. I was remembering -- to a point, at least -- who I used to be.

I'll be as forthright as I can with this; I owe you all that much. My name was Alesia Caligari, and I was in service to an archbishop at Vaticine City, I think -- that part is very unclear. In the course of my duties there, I had cause to see the man now called Allende, and he caught my attention; not the way Pietro did, so don't get at me; I know he's handsome, but it's not like that. It really isn't like that -- I seem to recall seeing him walking with his intended bride, and a strand between them frayed and reformed between him and me; except different; a strand of authority. He had a destiny or something, I suppose, and this strand was … well, obviously not quite like the one I've been seeing for the last few days, but strong enough to get me to take an active interest in this man's fate. For reasons best left vague, he was being taken to the prison island of la Bucca, and I ran away; pulled a Viola (except actually having the nerve to cut my hair) and got on the ship as prisoner 'Alesio'. From there, I suppose I helped him with his coup, because there was enough gratitude or respect for what I could do that I became his first mate on the Hanged Man. I don't really remember any of that very well, but I suppose this all explains my ability to be a lady if I try and the former Strega thing and the Castillian and the firearms and the sailing skills. It's nice that it makes sense. Sort of.

I suppose it's obvious the tale doesn't end there. I have no idea what I was doing in Vaticine City but someone has to have been unhappy that I stopped because the next thing that comes through with anything even remotely like clarity is that there were three Strega after me, out to punish me for disobedience and desertion, I suppose. They bent my fate so that I would betray Allende and the rest of the crew … and my toying with things to bring them Jeremiah Berek (who's alive, by the way, which might be interesting in the face of Bonnie McGee's fate) saved them but must have really hacked off the Strega. I don't know if they would have done it even if I'd gone through with whatever it was I was supposed to do without interfering, but they ripped my fate to pieces and left me for dead. Which, I suppose, is where Lucrezia comes in. I may never know what possessed her to reweave me; why it was so important that I rescue Allende -- all I know is that she did, and probably better than even she intended. I can remember two years ago, but apparently this all happened six months after my earliest vague memories used to start. I never really had an initiation; I don't know how I got the tattoo, and Rhyanna ferch Hwyll might well be the first Daughter I ever truly met but I can't be sure. I suppose it doesn't matter now -- seems fate has made a hole for me with the Daughters, and I hope you're all still happy with it on that basis because I still intend to serve as best I may. Either way, when I clapped eyes on Allende, the strand faded away ... and I felt a part of me die. It was all very disturbing.

I suppose it was a good thing that we had more immediate things thrown at us after that, all things considered. That strand I'd triggered when opening the door? Well, it called the guards, and the whole happy band of bastards were tromping down to catch us. We couldn't have fought them all and lived, so the only way to go was down. Eventually, we found another door that Alejandro's bracelet opened and we saw ... I swear to Theus, it was insanity. There were Syrneth artefacts everywhere on the walls, and there was a sort of harbour with the strangest ship in it! There was a light shooting out of it and we couldn't get on ... except we're relatively smart people, and there was a podium on the 'dock' that looked like Alejandro's bracelet fit in it. We shoved his wrist in the thing and the bracelet came off, wrapped itself around the podium bit ... of course the sixth pearl turned black like the others -- we'd triggered the last switch. The island started to rumble and break up, just like Viola's island, and we got on the ship (which was now letting us in) as fast as possible. Then the ship just shot out of the harbour and into open sea; nothing should be able to move that fast.

Caligari Island was sinking when we left. Pietro's wounded and I don't see how he could have made it on a boat in his condition ... if he was even conscious when the ground began to shake. We don't know where we're headed, or what else happened to the rest of Théah when that switch was activated. All I know is who I was, and that by keeping Pietro back where I thought he was safe, I may well have helped kill him. I seem to be betraying everybody. Oh, yes, Allende has been very kind about it, and I suppose it isn't like I had a lot of choice anyway, and it's not even as if I properly remember doing it, but I still feel bad. But that's all mixed in with the confusion and the fear and the grieving and that little twist of hope that sticks me from time to time and I can't do anything about and I spend half the time crying and I can't eat (which is just as well because all there is on this stupid Syrneth doom thing is this mushy stuff that apparently doesn't taste all that nice anyway) and I can't do this anymore; I'll write something when I'm not going to make the ink run.

24 Quintus 1669

Again, I haven't really been able to write much about what's happened because I haven't known where to begin or how best to put any of it. It's all so bizarre and I seem to be right in the middle of it and I'm not really coping with my role in things very well. Oh well, might as well just pick up where I left off and try not to leave anything out. It's all I can think to do.

The ship took us right the way 'round the Crescent Empire, apparently. There was this funny ... well, it was like a map of the world without all the political stuff on it (don't ask me how I know about political maps; I have a funny feeling that maps are something I used to do), and it showed this funny line like a wall all the way out past the Midnight Archipelago. At some point, it just vanished -- I think Viola's afraid the Barrier came down and I can't say I don't agree with her but given we're in the middle of bloody nowhere, how can we tell? And actually, I can say I don't agree with her if it'll stop her from trying to jump ship and drown herself when we're on our way back to civilisation because Theus knows I couldn't take it if I lost her on top of everything else and it's not her fault in any case -- I was the one with the stupid strand and the stupid destiny and the stupid rescue that made us get on the stupid Syrneth watercraft in the first bloody place. Francine seems to think that the world's somehow ... well, become round or something; I don't know what she could possibly mean by that but so long as it means the Barrier didn't go down, I'll count it as a blessing all the same.

Right in the middle of the Crescent Sea (at least I think it's the Crescent Sea; I'm not very clear on this sort of thing), an island was rising. I suppose this is Cabora -- it's all made of metal and it makes the most horrifying sounds and it's sort of part island, part machine so it was obvious we couldn't stay there for very long. So it was probably just as well that the Black Dawn was out there, apparently waiting for Allende. Their first mate was looking for the captain Bonny McGee; apparently, the Black Dawn wasn't the only pirate ship that'd docked at Cabora recently, because we saw the Crimson Roger speeding off and it's an allfired miracle that either they didn't spot us or we were moving too fast to attack or something. Or at least that's what I thought, except that most of the Black Dawn's crew wouldn't even get off the ship to look for their captain for fear of Reis or Cabora or both so they sent us out to go out and at least retrieve Bonny's body. Thing is, we didn't find Bonny McGee's corpse out there -- we found Reis. The Dread Pirate Reis is dead ... except I don't think it's the end of it because his scythe, his coat and Bonny are all missing, and the Crimson Roger is still sailing. You don't suppose she took his place, do you? That's just abominably creepy and I don't want to think about it but I suppose I have enough to think about so it's no real hardship, or it shouldn't be except it just keeps creeping back, the fact that evil like Reis simply cannot die. That's horrifying. The Father, bless him, insisted on giving Reis a decent burial at sea (well, it's not like we were going to try digging on Cabora; we're deeply stupid, not completely stupid) and the Black Dawn crew sort of grumbled but I suppose there's not much you can say in the face of Theus.

In any case, we had two choices on how to get off Cabora -- one was trying to make the Syrneth thing work (it seemed to be waiting for instructions after it fulfilled its 'mission' to take whoever triggered the last switch to Cabora), but the other, slower but somehow less frightening way was the one we took -- we got on the Black Dawn and they offered to drop us off anywhere we wished to go. It took some negotiation with the others, and it means that my voyaging with Viola is being cut a little shorter than I'd like, but I insisted that we stop at Dionna. It's simply common sense that whatever survivors came off Cabora would have gone to the mainland or the other islands, and since Pietro has a home and family on Dionna, if he survived at all he'll be there. I can't just keep pottering around Théah like nothing happened without at least being sure of Pietro's fate. I'll talk to Rosina fucking Villanova if I have to (probably just before I beat her face in) but I'm going to find out what happened to him. It's only now that I really wish I could still see strands -- yes, it's scary but I'd rather be scared and know what happened, if my strand to Pietro is still intact, than sit here with the doubt and the other sort of fear and the outright misery. It'll be weeks before we get to Dionna and no matter how busy I keep myself with learning to navigate and working on throat strike with Viola and even learning to lip read for Francine (though it's all more remembering than learning, really -- great Theus, but I must have been talented once...) I'm not going to be able to stop thinking about it.

I think I may go join -- sorry; rejoin -- the Brotherhood of the Coast if it turns out Pietro hasn't lived through it all. Allende has said that I am welcome to come back any time I like and I have to admit to being tempted. Without Viola with the group (she's going to Vendel to be with her sister; I knew this would happen but I'm taking it harder than I thought I would, though in the circumstances I'm not surprised), the only reason I really have to stay is Pietro and without him, why would I bother? So I can be insulted by Sir Oswald and randomly looked down on by Francine? I don't need that kind of thing and I have the skills necessary to move with privateers; was building them up even before I remembered any of this, so Legion take me if I can't just go and be a privateer if I want to. The pay's probably better than Jennying anyway, and no one dares make that half-disgusted, "You're going to the Pit" face at a privateer. I won't be as useful as I was as Alesio, I suppose, but I can help sail a ship, I'm fairly good in a fight and I can only get better given time.

I'm fooling myself and I know it. The only thing I really want is to travel about with Pietro, and if I can't have that, I don't really care. All the same, I'm not going to give up my own life, though I thought about it at first because, really, who is Alison Smith? She's a construct, woven into Fate to fill the place of a woman who died; she was never born, never grew up, and has memories of things that never happened but only hazy memories of what really was. She isn't real. All the same, she does exist now; she lives and breathes and is connected to the world now, through Viola and Francine and Alejandro and, if Theus is kind, Pietro as well, and Theus only knows who else. And as to the question, "Who is Alison Smith?", the only answer is, "Well, I am". Who else am I? I can't be Alesia Caligari; she threw her own life away who knows how long ago to begin anew with Allende and the Hanged Man. I can't be Alesio either; she died at the hands of three Strega a year and a half ago, with only a dim remnant left behind by Lucrezia's will to guide the one who followed her. I could be nobody -- take my own life and finally put an end to the whole mess -- but I've technically died twice now, and surely that's enough for a good long time; I surely don't fancy doing it again anytime soon. Besides, strange as it may sound, I like me -- and thinking about it, knowing my past makes things a little easier. After all, not only are the Caligari too busy trying to figure out what happened to their island and how they're going to get out of the political hole they've just fallen into, but they left me for dead over a year ago; there's no way they're looking for me now. I also know that whatever I did to betray Allende is forgiven, so I don't have to worry about anyone in particular coming up and hitting me in the face with my own past. Any dangers in my future are ones I'll be able to see coming, and even if the Caligaris do come looking for me, which won't happen for a good long time because of their recent misfortunes, it'll only be as the rescuer of their captive at first and at least I know they're coming.

That's if the world didn't end. That's if we sail back to something more than several large empty clumps of land. No one cares to entertain this possibility aloud, but they must all be thinking it -- I'm not the smartest of them, and even I realise that we have no way of knowing what else happened as a result of Cabora. I might be writing this all for nothing. But Francine's right -- we must have hope.

I probably won't keep up with this journal until we make land, unless something untoward happens. I'll not really be interested in personal reflection because it always leads me back to things I really don't want to think about. But one last thing, which I'll write down in case I forget (funny, really, when you think about the subject matter...) I had to ask Allende, who was the only one I could think of who'd know, if he knew when my birthday was. Turns out to be on 12th Sextus. I may be celebrating it on this ship, if anyone's in any mood for it. Theus? If you're listening, getting back to Dionna that day and finding that Pietro survived would make up for a lot of missed birthdays...

12th Sextus 1669

It's my birthday! Well, so Allende tells me anyway. It's not as if I have any clue how old I am but I can make a few educated guesses and besides, isn't it every woman's dream to be able to pick and choose exactly how old she is? I eventually decided that today was going to be my 21st birthday because, well, it's the first birthday I can remember but I can't be turning a year old, right? And besides, I don't think you could have crammed the kind of life I've apparently had into less than twenty years. Then again, look how much life I crammed into a couple of months, so you never know. Anyway, I had a conversation with the Father and he guessed 21 as well, so my age has the blessing of Theus ... or something.

We very nearly didn't have a party, as I told Viola what was going on first and, after a longish discussion in which I told her that the only gift I really wanted from her was to become blood-sisters (more scars. More cutting in the region of the hands. It's a miracle I still have fingers, you know, but at least this was by choice) and then she put her foot in it. Basically we'd been discussing Sir Oswald and she said something about, "He's a good shag, if you want to try it out..." I know she didn't mean it like that, and I know full well what my profession is, but that was an offer of fun, not a suggestion to mark him as a potential employer, and I'm not going to do anything like that for the time being. I still don't know what happened to Pietro and for her to suggest such a thing when I'm still mourning the poor arrogant bugger... Well, I stomped off in the hopes that someone on board had rum or something so I could have a quiet birthday drink by myself but wound up hiding in the hold with one of those plays Pietro bought me.

That's when Viola sent the Father and he, kind soul that he is, arranged a party on board the ship. Nothing fancy, as I had no wish to disrupt the crew, but they seemed keen enough to join in so maybe I shouldn't have felt too bad about the whole thing. I'm sure the fact that everybody seems to defer to Allende on board the Black Dawn helps a lot. It's so strange, though -- I know he still sees 'Alesio' when he looks at me and I don't know how to deal with it because ... well, I'm not her. Makes life easier, to a point, but I don't know how to deal with the looks. I've never had anyone have quite that much trust or faith in me before -- not where it's been so visible. On the one hand, I don't want to leave that because it's a nice feeling, but on the other hand, I have no idea how to respond to it, and besides, I have to find out what happened to Pietro so Brotherhood business will have to wait.

I've also been conversing with Francine -- I've been a busy girl, learning lip reading and navigation and Viola's been teaching me a nifty little throat-strike manoeuvre that I'm sure I've done before -- and she still wants to go ahead with the plan to discredit Fench Alias du Crieux. If Pietro is alive, it could be problematic, though -- I come back beaten to within an inch of my life, he's going to draw sword and try to skewer whoever did it and I'll have to be a phenomenal liar to hide who actually did it. Then again, if he can keep said duel quiet and I have to arrange for the beating to happen from an outside source, I can have Pietro kill the outside source so there's no chance on earth he can be made to confess. Save me having to poison the poor man, anyway, which was my other thought.

Oh dear. I really am a Vodacce, aren't I?

20 Sextus 1669

I think Francine's gone insane. Fine, it might well be that I just don't want to take her seriously but frankly, I don't think I can be blamed, and anyway, anyone who does what she did has obviously got something wrong upstairs...

She took me aside a little while ago and told me that she'd left an item on Cabora. She left a blooded item on a Syrneth island without telling anybody and then walked out to it! She tells me that the item wasn't where she left it -- it was out on a dais in the middle of a square or something. And when she looked around, she caught sight of a clockwork man, she says.

Clockwork man?!?

I mean, that wouldn't work, would it? Maybe someone should ask Arciniega and his lot if it would work because I have no bloody idea. All I know is that she looked very shaken and sounded terrible and given her thing about accidents with Porté holes and walking into Theus only knows what kind of trouble, I don't think I can really be blamed for calling her sanity into question. After all, I don't see what she was so frightened about -- clockwork doesn't exactly go very fast, so how scary could a clockwork man be? I suppose it's seeing Francine frightened of something so ... well, so silly that makes me think she might have cracked. I wouldn't blame her for cracking, either, all we've been through lately.

I've asked Sir Oswald to keep an eye on her for me. Mostly this is because I think she needs more attention than I can give her just at the moment (only a week to go and we're back on Dionna, and Theus help me but I'm going to have a busy time of it, what with delivering a report to Juliette and trying to find Pietro and seeing if Rhianna's training was good enough to send her to the nearest place she knew about and associated with me). Thing is, the rest is all trying to distract Sir Oswald's attention from me. Normally I'd like the male attention but for one thing, there's Pietro -- at least, I hope there's still Pietro -- and for another thing, Sir Oswald isn't only watching me because he likes the way my hips move when I walk (though he did admit that there was something to that as well). He still seems to think I'm some kind of criminal and has taken a very dim view of my cheerful acceptance of my profession; something about 'revelling in whoredom'. I thought the Avalon were better about Jennys than that, but I suppose I could be wrong, particularly in the case of the Knights of Elaine, who I suppose never had to so much as consider spending money to be with a woman.

Anyway, they'll both be happy. She'll have the attentions of a charming, handsome (if stupid) man, and he'll have a damsel in distress to be of service to. And maybe they'll both get shagged before the trip's over -- I think that'd do Francine in particular a lot of good. And I'll be able to get on with helping on board ship and working on those various skills without worrying about Francine snapping completely and going overboard or worse.

26 Sextus 1669

Why -- tell me -- why is it that no matter where I go and what I do, there's so much bloody stupidity? This has been the most insane few months I can ever remember spending and even if that's not really saying all that much, at least half of it is my own personal stupidity and I don't really like being an idiot, thank you!

First off, I had a lot of good-byes to say once we reached Dionna. Viola and I cried a lot and I made her promise to get in touch with me if she was ever in any trouble and she made me promise not to go after Rosina Villanova and it was all very soppy. Father Alejandro was less so -- he teased me and I teased him and he said "Blessings of Theus" and all that. I do like the Father in that whole "little brother" sort of way; though I'm sure he's older than me, he certainly doesn't act it. Allende was different again -- said that no member of the Brotherhood would ever harm me or those with me. He seems very protective of me and somewhat bemused at having to call me 'Alison' -- I suppose the changes are a lot for him to take in, but no less so for me, who now has to accept the loyalty and trust of a man I've never met. I do feel I can trust him, though, and I apparently owe him such a lot -- through him, my new life began -- and he's been so kind. The way things are going, I really will be a pirate by Nonus...

Well, I'm sure you know all about the political situation in Vodacce by now -- about how that sneaky Mondavi git had assassins out there just waiting to get the heads of the other families the moment there was a suitable opening and how Cabora served him just fine in that regard. No one would ever have expected Mondavi to turn out to have something going so well in that regard but I say it's always the quiet ones. What I didn't expect was that only one of the targets survived -- oh, I'd have expected Villanova to come through it and Caligari ... well, I don't know what happened to Vincenzo but if anyone survived the sinking of Caligari Island it was going to be him (that's my great-uncle I'm talking about -- strange) but the others weathered things quite well, all things considered. Oh, fine, Lucani got assassinated and now his wife and daughters are on the run (we should probably try to find and help the poor things, really) but Falisci also survived and that's bloody surprising. Apparently took out his assassin with a bottle of very good port ... then complained about it being a waste of a good port. When you consider a wine to be worth more than you are, there is something seriously wrong with your priorities -- I like sangria but I'd happily waste a bottle to smash in the head of someone who wants me dead. In any case, Mondavi's little army has also taken a fair chunk of Lucani land, but Falisci took another chunk and now the political map of Vodacce must look very different. Eventually there's going to have to be a balance but at least we turned up back here after the dust had settled; I'd have hated to be in the middle of that mess...

As you'll likely already know by the time you get this, I spoke to Juliette while on Dionna, just to deliver a report from the point of view of someone who'd actually seen Cabora -- you might be glad to know that I did that before I went on the hunt for Pietro Villanova. Well, actually, what I did was leave a message for Juliette with a servant (I'm fairly sure they can be discreet) because they weren't letting some scruffy Jenny-thing in tight leather trousers into the home of a high-ranking courtesan, were they? Then I went back to the inn and had a change of clothes because Theus damn me if I was going to turn up at the door of any Villanova dressed like some sort of common peasant woman. Besides, if I was going to see Pietro, I wanted to look my best -- well, second-best, as I'm not going around dressed as a courtesan here either. So I threw on my nice Porta Spatia dress and headed for Marco Villanova's home.

Well, Pietro's alive, at least.. I'm glad about that, but I must admit to being kind of miffed that he's spent the last month loafing about his parents' house drinking wine and practicing duelling while some of us have been out of our minds with worry and stifled grief. (Well, except for the birthday party and even then most of the day was spent grumbling over the fact that Pietro wasn't with me...) Worse yet, he seems to think that our time on the Black Dawn was some kind of bloody pleasure cruise instead of the only way we realistically had of getting back home after being hauled out to the middle of the bloody Crescent Sea. Though I suppose what with Marco Villanova there listening to every bloody word we were saying, there wasn't going to be much of a chance to explain things and be assured a little secrecy...

There's a thing -- Marco Villanova. I'd say he seemed nice, but he seemed ... well, Vodacce; slightly slimy courtesy and politeness that could cut like a knife. He was obviously listening to everything, and I found myself very conscious of the slips and stupidities coming from us while we were there -- Sir Oswald and his insistence on calling me "Alesio" which might well get me bloody well killed if it doesn't stop, my response when Francine asked me if I'd "found the items I was looking for"... Thanks be to Theus I was wearing that brooch I found on Piaggio Island; I just told him I was looking for matching earrings and he said something about "ah, I understand -- you should ask my wife; she's very good at spending my money on pretty fripperies". Because of the looks I was getting from Pietro (Theus, he looked irritated), I was very tempted to point out that his son'd been spending a Jenny's money for most of Quintus and most of the generous loan/gift/whatever had gone to pay said Jenny back. But I didn't; I think I saved all that anger for later, when Pietro snapped something about "Yes, I'd be very interested in hearing why you were gadding about on a pirate ship for the last month". The nerve! I threw a glass of wine in his face and got up to leave, apologising profusely to Marco Villanova as Theus knows I didn't mean to ruin his tablecloth or his dinner and I don't want Villanovas pissed off at me after the whole Fausto thing. He seemed more pleased than anything else -- I suppose anything to tell Pietro off about -- and made Pietro apologise for "being rude to guests". Marco then offered us some privacy but I don't trust that as far as I can throw Cabora and anyway, I had an appointment at the inn so I let them sort themselves out and went back.

Told Juliette everything that's been going on -- when I told her my former name, she squinted at me a minute and apparently remembered. I will not be doing that again unless it's completely unavoidable because Theus knows I don't want too many people knowing that Alesia Caligari came back from the dead. It's not so bad with this lot -- none of them can speak their names in safety either. She seemed as confused as I was about the whole 'clockwork man' thing and wasn't particularly interested in any of the business about Allende so I can't think why I bothered with it, except that you never know when a connection to a pirate might come in handy. Well, I got my report out of the way and that's the main thing because it's obviously important that as many of you know about the possible coming dangers as possible.

Oh, bloody-- Excuse me; I'll finish this when I've got shot of whichever one of the gits has decided to jolly me out of my lover-induced sulk. Probably Francine -- thinks she has the monopoly on whingeing so never lets anyone else be unhappy for long...

27 Sextus 1669 (early)

Well, it turned out that the visitor that interrupted my scrawlings last night was actually Pietro himself, and he had Rhianna with him. I thought that was really sweet of him, having to evacuate Caligari Island and still being bothered enough to rescue my little bird -- though I suppose he might not have bothered if I'd told him that I always leave the cage door a little loose when I'm not travelling just in case she gets attacked by something. He apologised for being a git but then went straight back to being a git and we had one of those long screaming matches that boiled down to something like him saying, "What the hell were you doing gallivanting around on a pirate ship for the last month without even contacting me?" and me saying "I couldn't get in contact with you because we weren't anywhere near here!" and him screaming "I mourned for you!" and me screaming, "I mourned you too, but I was stuck in the middle of the Crescent Sea, you stupid git!" And of course, after that there was crying and my babbling out the entire story of where we were and why we were there and what we did and what we saw (not to mention who I am) and somewhere between pirates and clockwork men we ... well, we made up, leave it at that.

(This is turning into one of those dreadful Montaigne love stories; I do apologise.)

Of course, you know from other sources what happened then. And to think I was worried that my entry to the Daughters being less than typical would make me somehow less trusted (and no, I don't know why I worried about that kind of thing, but when your whole world's shifting under your feet, it's hard to think that anything's still stable). I didn't even think about the fact that I had yet another Villanova with me as a hostage to fortune in this matter; when Juliette and Valentina turned up at the door to my room, I just insisted that everyone pack up and leave immediately. I don't know what Viola would have made of any of this but I really wish she'd been there; having another Daughter around would have made things ever so much easier.

Thankfully, my companions had booked us passage out while I was having my less stressful conversation with Juliette earlier in the day. Unfortunately, it wasn't due to leave until the morning, so we had to go and negotiate with the sailor men. Well, I say 'negotiate' -- they wanted an extra 150 Senators before they'd go anywhere and I really didn't want to get into an argument because frankly we hadn't the time so I just paid them and then set about helping them get the ship ready for sail. You should've seen the looks they gave me when I told them I wanted to help -- that whole "but you're a girl" thing is still apparently alive and well despite the fact that I've been sailing for Theus only knows how long and... Anyway, they'll think twice before looking down on a woman again because by the time they could blink twice, I was halfway up the rigging ... which is when I saw Juliette, Valentina and the eminently noble but deeply stupid Sir Oswald of Kettering facing off with Giovanni Villanova. Now, because I'd happened to overhear Valentina and Juliette talking on our way to the boat, I knew why he was so hacked off; I mean, playing games with his head and his heart is one thing -- that's a woman's business, after all -- but killing both his sons... And they growing up so happily following in the footsteps of their bastard father too; ugh. All right, the entire thing makes me feel sick, mostly given that I have an idea what snapped strands feel like and believe me, I don't ever want to remember what it must feel like to be dying of it and I don't think anyone deserves that death but all the same, to try so hard to raise the boys right and then have them turn around and brag about driving a merchant to suicide...

In any case, we defended Juliette and Valentina. We all did, even though I was the only one who really had to. Even Pietro stood with us, and he had everything to lose; he'd just started rebuilding bridges with his family and now he's a hunted exile and it's all down to me and my affiliations. It was quite the battle, all things considered; Juliette showed what 'dangerous Jennys' are really all about by carving Giovanni Villanova's face and putting out his eye, and we all covered the ladies and Sir Oswald when they ran like hell for the docks. (Can I just say it's bloody hard trying to shoot at people when you're hanging from the rigging of a ship that's making sail?) And Giovanni Villanova is now ... well, he lost his children, his wife, his courtesan and his eye, so it's no surprise he lost his composure as well, no matter who he is. And I suppose, with the loss of almost everything else, he didn't miss his mind when he lost that too. In short, we're no longer welcome on Dionna. Actually, we're probably not welcome anywhere in Vodacce. And Giovanni Villanova's going to hunt us down and kill us all to get to Valentina and Juliette.

Valentina told the lot of them what she'd done. Twisted penance, perhaps, but I felt completely alone and lost. I mean, I don't know what to think anymore. Every time I turn around, the world throws something else bizarre and ugly at me, and I just have to make it fit into my life somehow; Unseelie-guided killer totem poles, Inquisition, man-eating trees, Syrneth ruins, murderous thugs, more Syrneth ruins, Strega, more murderous thugs, yet more Syrneth ruins, pirates, and now this. In a way, Valentina Villanova is a sister -- we're bound by oaths no matter how my association with the Daughters came to be -- and I have to defend her. In fact, I punched Pietro when his first comment about the whole mess was what freeing the two women would do to his reputation with the family (this is why I don't normally do Vodacce...), but that was partly because Francine would've hit him harder and I think Juliette'd have killed him if someone hadn't done something. In fact, Juliette looked set to kill the first person who said anything remotely critical about what Valentina had done, so I think a few scars on my hand where I nearly bit through it to keep silent is a small price to pay.

The one I feel for is Pietro; my poor darling Pietro who lost everything to my stupid oaths and vows and associations. He followed me into this when he could have just turned his back on all of us -- or even turned us in, as he was bound by family loyalties to do. Yet he came with me, stood with me, and even fought his own family. And he doesn't even know what he was fighting for. It isn't fair to anyone, but him ... well, he's completely buggered, isn't he? His family will hunt him down like a rabid dog, whether he be Pietro or Reinhart Muller. He needs another new identity, and the fleeing from his family is now more deadly serious than ever before. And once he's done with the cash his father gave him a month or so ago, he's completely buggered for money -- fine, I can probably support us both but it's going to involve a lot of arguments about my shagging other men, and never mind that it's my profession.

Why didn't I just stay on the Black Dawn? Why didn't I get the others to tell Pietro I was dead, send a message to the Daughters through Viola when she got off at Malaca and just stay with the Brotherhood? I'd have stopped making Pietro's life a living hell at the very least. It was selfish of me to just throw myself back into his life like that -- he looked perfectly happy in his father's house before I turned up and wrecked everything.

I hate all the thinking. As soon as we get a free moment when we dock, I'm going out and getting completely hammered. I can't take this bollocks anymore.