They sought out a proper inn upon their arrival in Maykren, of course. The last time that Miresh and Aralim had ventured this way, they had stayed in shelters for the city’s homeless or camped at the roadside. While Aralim had little preference between the two, it made more sense to get proper accommodations for Nill, Miresh, and Master Velad’na. They found them at the Shipwright Stead.
Aralim had planned to meet Yau at the Wide Net Tavern the next night. Miresh came to him before he left, looking perturbed about something. “Master Velad’na said I can’t go to the tavern,” she blurted, pouting.
Sometimes she seemed more like a 14-year-old than other times. “Well, it is a tavern…. What do you think?” Aralim asked her.
“I wouldn’t drink any alcohol, you know that,” Miresh retorted.
“I know,” Aralim said, chuckling. “I have no intentions on stopping you, but consider if your time is better spent with your studies. If not, we’re going soon.”
Miresh sighed. “I don’t want to get on Velad’na’s bad side already,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Have fun without me.” She sauntered away without another word.
Nilless and the Aura went with Aralim. They found their way through Maykren along its main streets, avoiding splashing through streams and tidal pools whenever possible. The Ake’ma’s broad delta had islands large and small dotting its width. The Wide Net Tavern was built on one of the last bits of land, casting its plentiful lantern light out across the dark lapping waves.
The interior of the tavern consisted of a wide first-floor common room, dotted by tables and surrounding an island-style bar. The second storey was open, so the center of the common room had a great space before the ceiling, while the perimeter of the opening was home to more private booths. While the first level was home to a plethora of noisy, half-drunk sailors, the secluded balcony above was inhabited by as many wealthy captains discussing their business as it was with the quiet trade of night workers and lovestruck patrons.
Aralim spent the first part of the night asking what people might know about Master Tussom, the Overseer of Maykren’s magicians. No one knew him personally of course, but the tavern was full of people who were suspicious of men like him—magicians in power. In particular, the tall female barkeeper confided that most people found the story of his death hard to swallow—Tussom had allegedly fallen overboard in the harbour, his body never to be recovered from the turbulent depths of Trader’s Bay.
“Thank you for your time,” Aralim told the woman, as she turned back to cleaning a row of mugs with a washcloth. “Do you know where I could learn more? I can pay.” I think I can pay, he thought, wondering how much money he had brought.
“’fraid not,” the barkeeper said dismissively.
Aralim’s investigation was interrupted by the arrival of Yau and a woman he introduced as his cousin, Isolta. It became apparent—as they ordered drinks and sat with Aralim and Nilless—that the two were involved to some extent. Aralim saw Nill look at him uncomfortably when she realized it. The fraternization of cousins was hardly a serious concern of Aralim’s—he had crossed as many lands where the custom was accepted as those where it was deemed offensive. He was more curious what future Yau might have with Isolta when he seemed to spend most of his present days working in distant Rema.
After they shared their drinks, they crossed the tavern to a gambler’s hall of sorts. Yau placed a couple of bets, though nothing substantial was gained or lost. A short man—a stranger to Aralim—nudged the Ambassador’s elbow and beckoned him step aside from his comrades for a word.
“What’s the matter?” Aralim asked, following only two paces away.
The small man squinted. “Heard you talking to the barmaid,” he said with a raspy voice. “Heard you looking for information.”
Aralim frowned. “And?”
“Ask for Raely or Nalembar at the Iron River,” the man said. “If you can pay, like you said.”
“I can,” Aralim said, and stepped back toward his friends. When he looked back, the man had disappeared.
They stayed for another hour after that; Aralim was able to chat with a variety of locals. He collected tales from Trader’s Bay, ranging from a strange story of a moving island, to gripping accounts of piracy. Even the latter didn’t seem to be as large of an issue for these sailors as the alliance of corsairs in the east.
When they left the Wide Net Tavern, Aralim and his friends found a low-hanging smoke forming a dark cloud over the harbour. Nonetheless, Nill and Aralim said goodnight to Yau and Isolta, and went their own way. They soon learned that a warehouse had caught fire nearby, burning down a handful of buildings on another island. Thankfully the dividing currents of the delta prevented it from spreading any farther. Aralim wondered absently if Raely or Nalembar had been involved… or the man who had spoken to him in quiet, suspicious tones.
Miresh was waiting up for them when they returned, eager for stories of their night on the town. Nill, after her earlier drinks, excitedly illustrated their night as a grandiose carousing of a rowdy sailor’s bar full of scandalous harlots and dashing gamblers. Aralim, tired, went to bed.