City of Brass: +5 Splendour.

Pilar : ...she can just take the headband off beforehand and not change too much, that way, right away.

City of Brass: +5 Intelligence.

Pilar : She's worn the +6 Intelligence headband before.

This feels, deeper, in a way.  But not - not too different.  Not too new.  Right?  It's just that she can never take off this invisible headband.  Except maybe by learning Bestow Curse and cursing herself and that... would be going too far into being pathetic.

City of Brass: +5 Wisdom.

Pilar : Pilar has had a simultaneous Fox's Cunning and Owl's Wisdom before, and this is, greater, and not just in the way of +5 versus +4, there is something in it not captured in the measurements.  But she's had +4/+4 before.  It's not that different...

At +5 Wisdom it's very obvious to Pilar that she is lying to herself.  She knows she has done the equivalent of putting on an artifact headband she can't take off, and that's before taking into account the actual +4/+6/+6 headband that she still has, returned to her by Keltham, in her Bag of Holding.

Ione Sala: "...How are you feeling?"

Pilar : ...like she has become something greater than Pilar was, stronger, more vigorous, just walking through the street feels like she's dancing, the world around her filled with things to see, understand, a driving force behind her that will never leave her now.  Like life is water, and she has drunken so much of it that she is swollen with it to bursting.

"Oh, I'm doing fucking great."

Ione Sala: "How do you manage to make even that sound like whining?"

"Ready to get Plane Shifted back?  I don't mind if you want to hang around and do some shopping."

Pilar : "Ione, I have a real question and I'd really appreciate a real answer about it.  When am I supposed to put on the artifact headband?"

Ione Sala: "If the future goes as foreseen, you decide to do that, at some point, and it's not too early or too late when you do.  If the future goes astray, I expect Snack Service will poke you about it."

"I can't tell you about the future when it's something you're supposed to decide, it obviates -"

Pilar : "Yeah, I fucking get it.  Just walk around carrying an artifact headband thinking about how I could decide at any time to put it on.  Is there a reason I shouldn't do that literally now and get it over with?"

Ione Sala: "Common sense about how you just got +5 to all abilitystats, and should give yourself longer than five minutes to get used to that and grow into the new you, before putting on the artifact headband?"

Pilar : "I hate that you're right."

"Okay, you know what?  Yes, I'll stick around and continue shopping in the City of Brass.  I've still got a large city's annual budget's worth of 'spending money', there's probably some genuinely interesting stuff for sale, and I'm not actually going to have more fun wandering around on Golarion waiting for Snack Service to get me into trouble again."

(Translation from +5 Wisdom:  Pilar is terrified of being left on her own to think, doesn't actually want to be alone right now, everything is scary and at least Ione Sala sometimes answers her questions.)

City of Brass: They go about looking for two more 5-Wisher sets for Ione, for her Strength and Dexterity.  But those businesses are not many, and all that they find already have Keltham's or Carissa's Arcane Mark writ on the street somewhere nearby; their search-regions have expanded and overlapped.

While they're looking, Ione shops, and shops, and buys expensive things that no sane person would use.  When she runs out of money, she finds a noble Efreet and sells more of "Doomlord's hoard" and emerges with yet more money.

Pilar : Even Pilar cannot help but be caught up in the manic energy of it.  Pilar doesn't know how Ione can call this Good?  Or maybe Ione doesn't, and in that case Pilar absolutely doesn't want to stop her; Ione should come back to Evil where she belongs, so they can be allies again.

They find a sneering merchant who offers, as though reluctantly, Belts of Physical Might and Belts of Physical Perfection.  Pilar buys a +2/+2/+2 Belt of Physical Perfection just to feel even lighter and more graceful on her feet, and a +4STR/+4DEX Belt of Physical Might for when she wants to be even stronger and more graceful for a lesser time of endurance.

And a +6 Belt of Giant's Strength just in case she wants to show that off; and a +6 Belt of Mighty Constitution so that she can be tortured for longer; and a +6 Belt of Incredible Dexterity if only to complete the set.

Why shouldn't she?  Ione has money and has threatened that if Pilar doesn't spend it Ione will probably just spend it on Good.

Pilar buys a Hat of Disguise.  When she finds better at another shop, she buys a Greater Hat of Disguise; with hardly a twinge of horror for the money spent earlier, it's a sunk cost anyways.

Ione Sala: They've wandered the city for a time, and shopped there; Ione now has Dexterity about herself, but lacks Strength to complete it all.

After so long shopping, the two oracles decide to tarry and rest a brief while; they call upon a restaurant that serves one customer-party at a time and demands magic items in trade.

Ione gives the restauranteurs an item that's worth more than their most expensive demand listed, and commands them bring forth their best food for humans, and their best entertainment for mortal heroes at least one of whom is Good.

City of Brass: The Azer slave who is majordomo there bows, and there is brought for them course after course after course of food finer than Pilar has ever tasted, in small dishes meant to be eaten with even tinier bites and savored.  Bards sing for them, performer-magicians show them miracles while their Detect Magic sees no spellwork.  Oiled men wrestle wearing only loincloths that are sometimes shoved aside in the heat of their contest.  There's an enchantment about the place, by which mortals may consume thrice as much food as the most they can consume and not pain their bellies, and dish follows dish in endless succession: this is the hospitality of the Efreet, if you can afford it.

There are wines, in small cup after small cup, to go with the small dishes.  Ione sips it sparingly as though only to appreciate the taste.

Pilar after some many sips of her own does feel, then, as though something wound very tight inside her is relaxing; it is pleasant.  She does ask Ione, then, Pilar does not know from where the impulse takes her to ask, if Ione happens to know of foreknowledge whether it will turn out well and not harm Asmodeus if Pilar drinks a little more.

Ione says yes, it is safe for Pilar to drink a little more.

And Pilar does.

Pilar : When Pilar emerges from the restaurant there is a flush about her, a brightness, she is wearing her +2 Belt of Physical Perfection and is 7 abilitypoints greater in every physical abilitystat.  It feels like there's a great waterwheel turning inside her and powering her, pushing her to do more, more, more before this day ends.

She wants to dance like Abrogail Thrune did in her ballroom, though she never learned how; would her curse let her if it was for a party?  She wants to be as pretty as Abrogail Thrune, or at least pretty enough that people look twice.  She wants to put on her Belt of Giant's Strength, and challenge a man to a fight, and punch far harder than a wizard girl should; and rouse his wrath, and lose to him, and be forcibly taken by him and several of his friends in retribution.

She wants to be hurt, hurt until she screams, hurt until she stops thinking, hurt until she stops being so pathetic, punished and ground into the dirt.  There is some terrible dire fate that waits for her and she is tired of fearing it, tired of whining about it, if she can't just face it right away.  Her superiors did tell her that there was some defect in her Asmodeanism, related to seizing things that she wants and having the pride to be more than a golem; maybe she is finding a little of that pride now.

In a half-drunken decision Pilar buys a +4 headband of Splendour, as should not be too much, her Sevarwrought +6 headband might be too much, but she can deal with 3 points more of Splendour than she ever had before; Pilar puts it on herself, and the will that burns through her lifts her up like a hawk taking wing.

Pilar : Then Pilar calls on her curse's power: and guides herself and Ione to a shop not meant for mortal customers: a merchant Efreeti who honed their fleshcraft through ages long even for Fire, and who now perfects the most cherished slaves of other Efreet.

His craft is a painful one, and Ione shies from it and refuses.

Pilar submits herself to it, to the Efreeti's slight surprise.  She is held down with chains like any other subject, and things done to her that make her scream for real.  It does not quench the thirst inside her, only feeds it.

Ione finds some temporary shelter in a great library while all this is going on; Ione's own Constitution is also Wish-raised and Belt-buffed and she is not tired, but Ione's curse does still hold sway over her.  It's unlikely Ione will be able to attune herself, to this library, and borrow from it, for she does not have time to truly dwell there and learn its stacks; but there is no library book that Ione cannot read, now.

When the Efreeti is done, Pilar is just the same shape as before and nothing about her is larger or smaller, nor would anyone fail to recognize her face at a glance (except maybe Keltham).  But a thousand subtle imperfections are burned away, and her hair is a truer copper-pink than she made it in Ostenso. She is not changed away from herself, she is herself perfected, for the Efreet know this to be Art in the crafting of slaves.

Pilar : Pilar calls on her curse's power: she finds two bards, a singer and a harp-player, a brother and a sister, two Drow who fled the chaotic darkness for Law and Fire.  They are slaves, but only for their own safety in the City of Brass, with a master they chose themselves and so permissive that they might nearly be free.  There is a Drow art of playing music which harmonizes with screams, and they know that art.

Pilar finds a skillful whip-mistress, again a slave but a hireable one, who bears a whip more expensive than the price of her own person.

Pilar buys appropriate garments for herself, and bright jewels.

Pilar rents a pavilion whose price for one night's rental is a thousand platinum coins.

Pilar : Pilar calls on her curse's power, then: she assembles six noble Malik out of the City of Brass for a revelry.

In Disguise of a cloaked male slave she goes to six residences and importunes their masters, telling them that a rare entertainment and challenge does await them.  Ignan, the language of Fire, has come to her tongue from somewhere, and she speaks fluently in the graces of Fire, saying, "O noble Malik of the Efreet."

There's a mortal girl who delights in pain as few mortals ever do, not a trained slave but a born one.  Let them do come and witness her dance, and if she fails to entertain then her life is forfeit.  Let them come and witness the dance of a born slave, and someday if that woman becomes a goddess they can brag that they saw her dance when she was mortal.  Tonight shall be born a legend of the City of Brass, though none of the six must speak a single word of these events for a year and a day (as is scarcely any time at all).

City of Brass: Are the six Malik suspicious?  How could they not be?  But the messenger does not bid them follow on the spot, only assemble in a meeting-place they know but have not visited, a small intimate pavilion whose price for one night's revelry is famously a thousand platinum coins.  Even in the City of Brass where Efreet and Malik do vie to show their pride and wealth, it is a significant expense.  With twenty such nights you could buy a Wish-diamond, even at its fair price in Brass from one Efreeti to another.

If it's a trick or a trap, it's an expensive-enough one that it would be dishonorable not to spring it, to leave their enemy forlorn at the altar after such grandiose preparation that honors them by this expense.

City of Brass: So six Malik come then, to an expensive pavilion that hosts but a single party.

Six Malik do enter into a chamber anointed in every aspect with decor to match, if only about this small volume, the wealth per cubic meter of the palace of the Grand Sultana Ayasellah Mihelar Khalidlah II.  Tonight these six Malik are as close to being royalty as they will ever be, unless they conquer the City of Brass for true a thousand centuries hence; a fleeting taste of grandeur that the true royalty permits their lesser kind, so they can seethe inside with envy of the true Lady of Flame and desire her favor.

Pilar : And Pilar calls on her curse's power:  She puts on her belt of Dexterity and Strength, and dances for the noble Efreet on a pavilion of mithril, though she doesn't know how to dance, her movements all perfect and sensuous as though in a dream or granted wish, veils falling from her and jewels staying bright.

When enough of Pilar is exposed, the real dance begins.  The greatest mortal whip-mistress of the City of Brass flicks about a whip that sears hot enough to burn through Pilar's Planar Resistance and make her scream; but unlike the usual and cruel form of this dance, where mortal slaves must dodge and whirl about the searing whip and never miss a step or cease to sway, Pilar Pineda does lean into the whip's kiss.  And her sensuous cries do mix with the music of the bards and match it.

City of Brass: When it is done the six noble Malik of the Efreet, all of whom came intending to judge strictly and put this slave to ice on the least of excuses, can none of them say with honor that she should be slain.  They stamp their mighty feet in appreciation, honor given by Malik to a mortal slave, when the dance is done.  A fire is lit that they did not know was in them, and they lust for the victim of the dance.

They do inquire as to the purpose of this revel.

Pilar : And Pilar Pineda tells them that she means to yield herself to one of them:

Let the six fight, by any contest that does not slay them, she will not be accused by the Sultanate of being a foreigner come to sap their city's strength.  Six shall fight, and one shall win her without cost; and the five losers shall do her sister-oracle Ione Sala a small secret service, that shall not risk their life nor exhaust their wealth nor harm their reputation, and take but a little of their time.

And he who proves himself strongest and most cruel among the noble Malik of the Efreet, may not slay her in his victory; nor take her wealth from her or allow it to be taken.  But aside from that he may do utterly as he wishes with her, for the length of a mortal night; even give of her to others, does he will, so long as he protects her.

And she does swear that none of this is a plot aimed at any of their number, but only a contest for her own amusement, for which insolence she must be made to pay.  Come then, battle one another for the right to make her pay, if they are not cowardly.

Pilar : Then Pilar Pineda conducts them to that pavilion's small arena of wrestling, and lets Azer servants bind her, clothed only in bright jewels and a magical belt and headband, in chains whose key is set aside from her, making her an offering and a prize.

From the place of her binding Pilar Pineda watches six noble Efreet battle for her, with the lidded eyes of a mortal in lust.

City of Brass: In the end a victor comes from their mighty contest, it is Befutig Safiza Uj-alet who triumphs and whose name passes into this fable.  Pilar Pineda heals him as she is healed herself, and he bears her away for the night.

As for the other five, an Oracle of Nethys does come to lay hands on them, healing them somewhat if not wholly.  She tells them of their forfeit, five Wishes to be cast for Ione's Strength, out of five Wish-diamonds that she bears.

And the five do honor the fairness of the forfeit: there is a floor-price set by the City's Laws, but services fairly gambled against services do not violate it.  Not one Malik of the City of Brass could say this night's gamble was anything but fair.

Ione Sala: Then Ione Sala takes herself home to the Prime Material, with something of a sigh: for it seems to her that, somehow, Pilar lives in a more interesting universe than she does.  Sometimes Ione wishes that she lived, if not quite in that exact universe, some universe which was at least that interesting.  There is probably a version of herself like that, if Ione dared ask Nefreti about it, but Ione Sala dares not ask.

Pilar : But for Pilar Pineda her night is only beginning.  She is cradled in the arms of a noble Efreet who would still be stronger than herself even if she girded herself with +6 Strength belt above +5 Wished; she'd match him pound for pound then, maybe, but he has many more pounds.  She is giddy and glorying and does not know to what extent she's drunk on extraplanar wine or drunk on the new life and strength in her.

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: Befutig Safiza Uj-alet flies above the city as Efreet do, and lets the slave-girl, Pilar Pineda, look down to witness it, that she may be duly awed by the grandeur of the Efreet.  This is the world, and he is showing it to her.

To his mansion he takes her, a noble mansion befitting a noble Efreeti.

To his bedchambers he takes the slave-girl, and makes her scream with pain and pleasure both.

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: Then Befutig Safiza Uj-alet finds a new flame lit in him, for this mortal whose lust is not quenched by all his cruelty.  He has taken many who did not want him, to whom he was cruel, and he gloried in it.  But to have them yield in desire to his cruelty is something he did not want before, for he did not know he could have it.

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: He bids Pilar Pineda stay by his side all her mortal life, then.  She is a born slave, and he her natural master; they are destined for one another.

Pilar : But the slave-girl shakes her head and says, nay, for she already has a natural master; and she must return to the Prime Material to serve him when the night is done.

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: Then his jealousy is kindled, and Befutig Safiza Uj-alet takes her again and makes her scream for him again.  The stamina of a noble Malik of the Efreet is, if not unlimited, great enough that no mortal woman can challenge it whatever magics are about her.  He is not spent.

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: And when he is done and she lays there panting and thoroughly yielded of herself to him, he does carry her into his mansion's treasury and show her the wealth of a noble Malik of the Efreet.

Silver and gold do lay there in heaps great enough that a magicless mortal could not lift them, and a dozen and a dozen and a dozen things of power, swords and armor lit with jewels: this is his hoard, the hoard of Befutig Safiza Uj-alet, greater than the wealth of some mortals who call themselves kings.

A slave must have a price: let her name it.

Pilar : But Pilar Pineda does reach into her Bag of Holding and pour out platinum bars and faceted rubies, and rods and belts of magic, until their sum is greater than all the wealth that he shewed to her.  And at the end she takes out a crown wrought of Hell, whose fair price would be greater than both those hoards together.

"My own wealth is greater," says she, "and my true master's wealth is measureless."

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: Then his wrath is kindled in truth, and Befutig Safiza Uj-alet seizes Pilar Pineda about her hair and drags her back to his bedchambers.

"O small and foolish mortal who thinks to defy an Efreeti," he says to her, "I will break you, now, and have you pledge yourself to me when you are broken. That does not transgress the bounds you laid on this night."

Pilar : "If you can break me you can have me," says she. "Show me the wrath of a Malik, and the cruelty of the City of Brass."

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: All his wrath does he pour out onto her, then, though he may not kill her.  Slaves he sends forth from himself with wealth, and they return bearing instruments of great cruelty.

Three times the slave-girl nears death, and three times she heals herself and presents herself to him again.

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: After the third time he can hardly bear the strength of his desire for her, and so he takes her back into his treasury and shows her a hidden door.

In the room beyond lie three Wish diamonds he has accumulated through ages, waiting for five, as is the clock that ticks ever so slowly to measure the long lives of Efreet.  Strength and Constitution, Splendour and Wisdom, Intelligence and Dexterity, do Efreet gain in this way.  A millennium might pass between one diamond and another; and they agonize whether to become stronger today to accumulate their gains faster tomorrow, or wait today to cast in longer sequences later.

"Swear yourself to me and I shall grant you your Wish," he says, as is folly and madness in truth, for a Wish is wasted on a mortal that passes away in a century.  But the desire in Befutig Safiza Uj-alet is such that he cannot bear it.

Pilar : Not from her Bag of Holding, then, but seemingly from nowhere, Pilar Pineda brings forth a Wish-diamond, and lays it beside the other three.

"My wish is one that only my true master can grant," says she, "though I did enjoy this night."

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: Then his pride is pricked and skewered, for Efreet do not know gratitude to mortals.  He bears her to his bedchamber a final time and tries his very best to fucking ruin her.

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: After the last encounter he himself lies panting; and Pilar Pineda is a wreck, but not, alas, a broken one.

"O greatest flower and jewel among mortals," he says to her then, "there is a secret passed down through ages, which is forbidden and death to both of us if any learned that it had been used by those not royalty."

Pilar : "I," the slave-girl croaks, and pauses to heal her throat.

"I will speak of it to none who do not already know," says she.

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: "I cannot bear to ever be parted from you, o Pilar Pineda; pledge yourself to me for-ever, and I shall use a threefold wording passed down in secrecy through ages, to spend three Wishes and make you an Efreeti everlasting.  All the splendors of the City of Brass shall be yours for eternity, and you be not only my slave but also my wife; I will make you scream for me every day without fail."

Pilar : "O noble Malik of the Efreet," she says, "I have received the cruelty of a sensuous priestess of Asmodeus, of the seventh circle, and been used by her; I have been captive and tormented of a mortal queen who bound an Erinyes to herself, who sought to break me.  Yet your cruelty and lust is greater than any cruelty and lust I have felt, and I do not know if I will ever again receive its like.  Know that you have satisfied me."

"And yet - I must return to my master."

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: "O Pilar Pineda, tell me who is your master!  From them I shall purchase you, though it cost me a thousand years of service."

Pilar : But she bows her head, and says, "My master is Lord Asmodeus, the Prince of Hell; only when I am passed into His possession will I know true cruelty and at last be broken."

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: Then does Befutig Safiza Uj-alet know despair.

Pilar : Pilar Pineda heals herself a final time, and Restores herself, and rises up though rather wobbily so.

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: "I shall send you back to the Material, then," says Befutig Safiza Uj-alet. He is tempted as never before to shatter his honor, but it is stronger than he.

Pilar : "I must gather my things.  And then -"

"Let us wander your City first, for a time."

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: He does as she bids, though after watching her try to take a few steps he laughs and carries her again.

City of Brass: Then he shows her one splendor after another of the City of Brass, for he is not so in despair that he does not hope at all.

There are gardens of such flowers as bloom in Fire, and also Elemental conservatories where you can see those flowers that bloom in Air and Water and blossom in the darkness and pressure of Earth.  There are flowers that bloom in Heaven and flowers that bloom in the Abyss; and Befutig Safiza Uj-alet shows them all to Pilar Pineda, as though to say: this is how many wonders our fair City could show you, if you asked for flower-gardens alone!

And did she cast off her mortal flesh and become Efreet, she could see the gardens of a thousand other planets from other stars and planes, piercing then the veil that lies about the City of Brass by which travelers from different planets may never meet; as the gods demanded when this place was made.

Pilar : And she is moved, but not, alas, stayed.

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: Befutig Safiza Uj-alet does plead with her, then, warning her that Hell has cruelty but no generosity, it does not have the capacity to prize Pilar Pineda as he would, it will not shower her with gifts to complement its torments.  Her beautiful form will never know the touch of a caressing hand to soothe the whip's bite before it lands again.

O Pilar, O Pilar, why would she foresake the cruelty of the Efreet for the cruelty of Hell?  She was made to be a slave, but let her choose a more appreciative master than Asmodeus!  If the screams he draws from her are not enough, he will apprentice himself to more skilled torturers.

Pilar : The slave-girl is silent for a long time.

Pilar : "I do not need my master's appreciation nor his caress," she says.

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: "You lie."

Pilar : "I did.  But though you could be my master, you could not be my god, for you would be content to sate your cruelty on me and not desire to perfect me as I must be perfected.  Efreet are Lawful, but they are not of Law."

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: "Your cruelty is indeed the cruelty of Hell," he says.  "How will I ever know satisfaction again, after tasting your savor and then being denied it for ever?  I am sworn not to take your life for it; but tell me what enemy of mine laid this trap for me, that I may spend the rest of my eternity on vengeance."

Pilar : "Did I not swear this was no trap of your enemy?" says Pilar.  "You have shown me your might, now let me show you mine."

City of Brass: The slave-girl closes her eyes, and the fragile beauty of her mortal face seems to fill his vision.

City of Brass: Then her eyes open, and they are standing in the warehouse of a slave-market where no mortal of Golarion should ever be, before a slave-pen where young girlchildren crawl upon ten legs and eat the rotting corpses of things with more legs than that.

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: "You cannot be here," says Befutig Safiza Uj-alet.  He must exert himself to not let his own form change, in this place.  "The City of Brass itself would be forfeit."

Pilar : But Pilar Pineda points to one girlchild who glares at them from a corner with emerald-faceted eyes, as though daring them to try and take her from her sisters.  "She has also my nature," Pilar Pineda says, "if you buy her and see her well-raised, to become a slave that leans into the whip and repays cruelty with desire.  Only buy her sisters also, and treat them kindly, and never threaten them to threaten her; for that she will never forgive as mortal nor Efreeti.  Free them and send them home, when they are grown enough to be safe returning, and she'll be yours forever."

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: It is not in the nature of Efreet to know gratitude, but they know debt and hierarchy.  Befutig Safiza Uj-alet does acknowledge then that Pilar Pineda has shown herself grander than he; and that he owes her any one service she asks, short of his life or future wife.

Pilar : "And I do acknowledge the City of Brass in turn," she says, "for showing me my own pride, that I did not know I had in me.  But now it is time for me to return, for as you say, I must not be here."

Befutig Safiza Uj-alet: "To what fate do you return?  I have not missed that such a revel as this is one that a mortal might undertake, knowing they were not long for their flesh.  There is a saying among the Efreet:  Eat, drink, and be merry, for even gods can die.  Is it that, which you were doing?"

Pilar : "Perhaps.  Perhaps I go now to die, perhaps to become a goddess, perhaps to be made traitor.  Only my companion knew what fate is set for me, and she would not say.  Whatever it is to be, I'll try to hold to this pride, and not whine about it."

"Now send me back from the City of Brass also, to serve Asmodeus in Golarion, and then in Hell.  I am twice tempted now and twice refused; the third temptation will see me His true servant for-ever, or break me, if the tropes hold true."

City of Brass: And if all this is to become a fable of the City of Brass in a year and a day, or if by then the City of Brass will have been consumed utterly in ruin - whether in Golarion this is to become a tale of a Deed of Pilar Pineda when she was mortal, or if her fate lies down some other road entirely - that is yet to be seen.  Her companion oracle knew what was fated, once, but fate is now cracked if maybe not shattered.  And even that cracked fate Ione Sala has not spoken of, as yet, where things that watch can see her.  If they want to know what comes, they shall have to continue watching to witness it.

Iarwain: Telepathy between Keltham and Carissa follows in: the meeting of their minds.

This is an extended depiction with a lot of added context for the benefit of sub-INT-29 readers; the real telepathic exchange, of course, consists of thoughts flashing back and forth at a much higher speed and level of abstraction.

If you find yourself glazing over at the debates about ethics or Greater Reality, the more relationshippy section of 'meeting' starts here; and in the final extremity you can skip ahead to the next thread, null action act 2.

Iarwain: In case you missed it, there's now a completed dath ilan thread between Iarwain and Swimmer963, about how Merrin first came to the attention of Exception Handling: for no laid course prepare.

Iarwain: You may also have missed:  dear abrogail (Abrogail Thrune's terrible terrible advice column), summoned hero sevar (on hiatus and probably never going to be completed).

Iarwain: To readers noticing the recent update:  "the meeting of their minds" was moved to the main section, completed, and the story now continues in "null action act ii: unact harder".