A Fool's Devotion: Day 11

The house had only one room, its floorboards warped and damp, lit by branches taken from the trees outside and set in pots of brackish water, the dancing lights dimly illuminating the inside.  There was a table and a handful of chairs in the middle of the room, and sitting there was a mosquito and a cockroach.  The cockroach was around Trochanter's age, long done with the business of pregnancy, and dressed in a thin gray habit; the mosquito was a little younger than Shell and naked.

"Good evening, Grandmother Light-of-the-World," said Shell, trying her best to keep her eyes on the cockroach.

Grandmother Light-of-the-World paused, only now noticing her guests.  "Good day," she said.  "Has it been two weeks?"

"Yes, Grandmother.  Might I take a seat?"

"Of course.  Would the tall girl like one as well?"  She gestured to Pom, who was still midway through entering the door, staring wide-eyed at the mosquito.

"I'm certain."  Shell gently tugged on Pom's velvet sleeve, and she stumbled all the way in, Jaromir just behind her and cheery Stillwater last.  Shell took the seat next to Grandmother Light, Pom transplanted a seat so her view of Shell and Light blocked out the mosquito.  This left Jaromir little choice other than to sit next to the mosquito, who gave him a little wave.  Stillwater stood beside the mosquito student, quite amused by her guests' reactions.

"Tell me," Light said with practiced neutrality, "is the Daughter well?"

"She is doing splendidly, Grandmother Light-of-the-World.  She is breathing clearly and taking the Mother's milk."

Light sighed, slumped in her chair.  "Praise be to ten thousand gods," she said, breathless.  "I've not had a good night's sleep for weeks."

"It is true," said her student in amateur Imperial, "I have seen her awake much at night.  She sometimes cries."

Light smiled.  "Excuse little Thornbrush.  We're not quite up to 'appropriate conversation' yet."

"One would think," said Jaromir, "that teaching her clothing would be something of a priority."

"Eheh.  They don't really need it here," said Light.  "The mosquitoes, they're..."  She shook her head.  "Different.  Moreso than anyone else we've met, even more than the Shattered.  Even spiders can mimic human society.  The mosquitoes just don't bother with so much of what we have.  They just live.  It's liberating, but it's confining.  Do you follow?"

"I think so.  Do they not seem interested in learning?  Delving deeper into cosmic secrets?  That sort of thing?"

"Just that indeed," said Light.  "They're largely content to stay in the trees, eating and sleeping and... so on.  And so forth."

"Ah, but such ons and forths they are, aren't they?" said Stillwater.

"Yes.  Such ons.  Such forths."

"So, uh," said Pom, whose gaze had irresistably drifted to the naked Thornbrush, "what is it exactly that you're here to do, Grandmother?"

"Fulfilling my familial obligation," she said "as is to be expected.  Might I ask, though, why they've sent the Bygone-Glory lineage here?  The High King's men were oddly reticent on the radio, and I don't think the mosquito gods are represented in the House of Names..."

"It involves the World Devourer's attack on Landfall," said Jaromir.  "We have to be reticent if we want to keep any secrets.

Stillwater cooed with interest and leaned in closer to the table.  Thornbrush watched with interest, not quite following the conversation.  Light tensed.  "What do you mean?" Grandmother Light said.  "Why would..."  She looked away from Jaromir, stared off into the distance.  "Would they be... no, they..."  She shook her head.  "I... ah.  I'm not sure where to start asking."

"Don't be afraid," Shell said.  "We're here looking for council, not because we're suspicious of ill deeds."

"Council.  I take it that's not a schoolteacher's council you need."

"Oooh.  Fascinating!" said Stillwater in Culicidese.  "You speak her language, Daughter Bygone-Glory?"

"As it happens, yes," said Shell, likewise in the mosquito's language.  "We're not merely census-takers, Lady Stillwater."

"What do you do?" said Thornbrush.

"I'll tell you later," said Shell with a side glance.  "The outside world knows little of the Crocodile Witch," she said to Stillwater and Grandmother Light, "beyond a few legends and rumors.  I presume that speaking her language is, in fact, key to contacting her?"

"You'll need a sacrifice," said Light.  "Nothing human, nothing Incarnate, just something, uh, big and tasty.  I think we have a few spare goats."  Light cradled her head in her hands.  "Pathmother Light-of-the-World, three minutes ago I was teaching Thornbrush how to multiply.  Doesn't take a great deal to move the world, does it?"

"Shell?" said Pom.  "What's going on?"

"We're going to need a goat," said Shell.