"So this island we are going to," Marco said. "Do you think it will have good wood?"

"It might," Elisa said. "It might not. It might not even exist, Marco. Why?"

"Because we sort of need some," Marco said. "Fast. As fast as we can get it."

—

After some sleep and additional rest, they finally arrived at the area Quill had sent them to. Against the odds, there was actually an island there. Even more astounding was the fact that it wasn't obviously haunted or diseased in any way they could see. A small collection of rough log buildings dotted the steep slope beyond the shoreline, connected by raised wooden paths that made the tricky terrain negotiable.

“It looks friendly enough,” Elisa said. “Not that it’s always clear.”

“And Quill sent us here,” Aethe said. “I don’t think he expected us to reach here, but he did send us. We can’t ignore that.”

Marco took a deeper look at the island. “Either way. We have to go ashore. At the very least, they have wood.”

They anchored the boat in a safe-looking inlet on the island, sort of a narrow dent in the shoreline that made it a little harder to see, if not entirely invisible. Taking the outboat, they made it to the docks in less than five minutes and had drawn what looked like half the town out to observe them by the time they landed.

"Howdy," a large man in rough cloth clothing called out. "What brings you by?"

"That's a very long story. I guess the short answer is that we need lumber and metal. The best we can get with whatever we have to trade," Marco answered.

"Well, you're in luck there. We have both. That's what this island is, more or less." The man rubbed the bristly stubble on his chin thoughtfully. "How are you set for money?"

"Elisa?"

"We have some," Elisa said. "We'd rather see what's available before we get too detailed on that, if you don't mind."

"Hah, yup. I could see that." The man waved them ashore. "Well, for now, let's get you fed. It's about our morning mealtime, and there should be plenty left over. Might be a little cold, though."

He walked them into town. Marco found himself more and more shocked the farther and farther they got into the main areas. It wasn't that the buildings were big. They weren't, and they were the most basic structures he could imagine people permanently living in. It wasn't the industry, although there was plenty of that. There were sawmills and smelters and all sorts of work happening that he did or didn't understand from looking at it.

Mostly, it was how normal things were. Not normal in an outer sea kind of way, where momentary safety was often enough to make a place seem peaceful and settled. Rather, it was normal, almost in the way Gulf Aisle had been. There were virtually no warrior types here. Everyone was a person with a trade, at least from what he could see. And there were children.

"Were kids always that small?" Riv said. "I haven't seen any since, well, home."

"I think so. I think they get even smaller," Elisa said. "No offense, sir, but how do you survive out here? It's a dangerous part of the world."

"That's a long story too." The man winked. "We keep that to ourselves just like you do with your budget."

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He led them to a table where eggs, bread, and meat still graced the bottom of big serving bowls and gave them free rein to dig in. The gesture was so nice in a simple way that Marco couldn't keep his face from distorting into something like a distrustful expression.

"Oh, don't be like that," the man said. "Dig in. Finish it all. Don't hold back. Believe me, we don't make our money off food, and that's going to waste otherwise."

"We can't pay you?" Marco asked.

"Pay me for wood later, if that's what you want." The man pointed at some benches. "Sit there and eat. I'm going to go grab someone who has a bit more authority than me. I'll be back."

The team finally did dig into the food. It wasn't the best they had ever had, but it was simple, solid fare. By the time they were done, they had cleared out all the leftovers and were comfortable and full. No ill effects appeared from it either.

"If this was all fake, we'd be able to see it," Marco said. "Some of it, at least. Right?"

"Yes," Elisa said. "I don't know what this is, but it's nothing we expected. I think we need to be honest with these people. As soon as possible."

"About what? We really do want to buy wood from what Marco says," Riv asked.

"About Quill. About being chased. About danger, for that matter." Elisa pushed her bowl back and rubbed her eyes. "If we are going to be the good guys, we need to be the good guys. That means not hiding important things."

"You're sure?" Marco grimaced. "I hate to ruin this nice beginning."

"Better to make a beginning worse than to have to deal with things midstream," Aethe said. "You don't want to get caught out in the middle of the ocean with a badly patched hull, if that makes sense."

Marco hated that it did, but when the man came back with another bigger, even beefier man, he was ready.

"Marco, crew, this is our leader, more or less," the man introduced.

"Less," the big man said. "I don't know why they keep calling me that. I'm Zia. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, Zia. I'm Marco, and that's Riv, Elisa, and Aethe."

"And you are here for materials?"

"Yes. But there's more to do with it than that. Do you know the name Quill?"

The man stiffened. Marco felt his hand tighten, hard enough that it would have crushed his own if he didn't squeeze back.

"I do," he said. His face was unreadable. "A friend of yours?"

"No." Marco decided to keep things simple. "More like a mortal enemy."

The man gazed into Marco's eyes for a moment before letting his muscles slack. Whatever he saw there, it seemed to reassure him.

"Good." He glanced around, settling on a building near a large pile of rough lumber, a structure little better than a huge storehouse. "Let's not talk about this out here, then. Come along."

Once they were in the storehouse, he leaned on a post and looked at the group again.

"Tell me everything," he said. "From the beginning, at least as it concerns Quill. I'll reciprocate after."

Marco looked at Elisa. She nodded, and he got into it. He told the big man everything he could remember, from entering the outer sea to their first encounters with Thatch, his temple, and making it to Quillton. From there, his story seemed to veer into details that were at least familiar to the man. Marco got nods as he talked about how comfortable the town had seemed, how at home they were, and how at first they had no real reasons to suspect Quill was an enemy or even a kind of competitor.

The fact that they had beaten Quill at his own game several times did seem to catch the man off-balance. He listened in rapt attention as they mentioned clearing the fear and insanity effects, and seemed outright mystified by their experience in the whirlpool.

"You said the description read in a way that made it seem like the parasite had something to do with Quill, too?" Zia asked.

"Maybe," Marco said. "The system wasn't the clearest. But if so, we've hit him hard three or four times now. Without bragging, I'm getting stronger. Much stronger. We haven't been on the losing end of this."

"Yet." Zia shook his head. "You haven't lost yet. Quill is strong in ways that are hard to explain. Even when he lived here, he was."

"Quill lived here?"

"He's from here." The man sat down on a pile of logs and rubbed his palms on the knees of his pants, as if to dry them. "It might be hard to believe, but this settlement has been here for generations. My grandfather and grandmother were carpenters on a huge ship, survived some trouble, and built some of the first houses here. Since then, we've grown, but for the most part this island has produced workers, not warriors. Every now and again someone would grow to adulthood who didn't fit that mold. Quill was one of those."

"Yeah, the big claws don't seem like they'd help with work."

"Big claws?" The man's eyebrows rose. "No, those are new. When he was here, he was just… tricky, I guess. He'd join in the work but never get much done. We'd raise a building, and he would touch a tool the whole time but never put in any nails. He was always lazy like that. Anyone else would have been in more trouble over it, but he somehow managed to make it seem like something different. Something less."

"Psychological powers. Mind magic," Elisa said.

"Yup. We didn't figure it out for… well, longer than any of us want to admit. By then, he had every guard in the town on his side, mercenaries from the outside, and a good bunch of our people ignoring it all, not wanting to get involved. That's when he tried to take over."

"And that's when Zia here stopped it," the other big man said. "He used Labor Force."

"I don't know that one," Elisa said. "An attack skill?"

"No. High-level organization skill. My grandfather had it, my father didn't, and I somehow ended up inheriting it in some indirect way. It's meant to organize the minds of everyone on a job to one task, if that's what they all want. It clears away distractions so they can make that decision. I was just high enough in level to rally the whole island to expel him and his folks. It was a year or two after that when we first started hearing about Quillton. Every day, I worry about when he gets brave and comes back," Zia explained.

"Well, we are aligned, then," Marco said. "But there's something I don't understand here, still."

"Which is?"

"Quill. He's older, right? Older than me, I mean. As old as you."

"Something like that."

"He must have had that class for years. You would have known about at his classing, right? Those are public for a reason," Marco asked.

"That's just it. He was classed as a stonemason. A regular common class with a few special skills to make up for the dangers of this part of the world. Nothing out of the ordinary, or that would turn heads."

"Is it possible he got the manipulation class and just tricked everyone?" Riv asked, but also shook his head. "No, a level one couldn't do that. No chance."

"Wait," Elisa said. "Everyone be quiet."

The big men looked at her in confusion but did quiet down. She took a few notebooks out of her bag, made some diagrams, and generally knitted her brow in thought for a few minutes.

"If he was born normal here and ended up with a psychological growth class eventually, then something changed at some point." She looked from face to face. "Agreed?"

"I mean, sure. But…"

"No, wait. Zia, you said he changed here. Did he ever leave here before then? Trips to unexplored islands, scouting missions, or anything like that?"

"Not that I recall," Zia said. "Like I told you, he was lazy. He'd go out into the island to avoid work, but that was about the extent of it."

"So if he changed before he left here and didn't spend much time out there," Elisa motioned at the entire rest of the world in a general sort of way, "then he changed here. Marco, your camping trip was a waste of time. If we wanted to find his temple, we were looking on the wrong island for that."