Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy-Four - Hot Springs Episode

Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy-Four - Hot Springs Episode

Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy-Four - Hot Springs Episode

Now what? I asked as I stretched my arms way way up.

Amaryllis, Awen and I were milling around the exit of the Exploration Guild. The journalist was long gone, and Reginald--after thanking us profusely for our time and for the cleaning--was back at work. I think he was out of whatever slump hed been in before, or at least he seemed very enthusiastic about fixing the guild up again.

We could walk around, Awen said. Ah, explore a little? We havent really tried any sylph-food, except what was at the inn.

I nodded. That sounded like a nice way to spend the afternoon.

I have a better idea, Amaryllis said. Reginald wasnt able to tell me everything I wanted to know about the other delegations, but we do know where one of them is now.

Oh? I asked.

She nodded. The grenoil delegation is in the Purple District, which I imagine isnt too surprising, but, notably, they have been visiting a bathhouse next to their embassy every day.

How did Reginald learn that? I asked.

I think its mostly the citys rumour mill, Amaryllis said. The sylph find it amusing that the grenoil are so ill-suited to the weather here. She gestured to the sky, which was a particularly drab grey. There was some sunshine, and it wasnt too cold. Not cold enough to snow, at least.

Thats not too kind of them, I said.

The grenoil are from a much warmer area of Dirt, its normal that they wouldnt handle the cold here well, Awen said. She was probably a bit biased there herself. She was wearing as many layers as she could get away with, and had been applying warming spells to herself all morning.

So, we know where to find the delegation then? I asked.

Oh, finding their actual location isnt hard, Amaryllis brushed off. The trick is finding a way to actually reach them. I dont think the three of us could walk up to their embassy and ask to speak with the delegate and expect a meeting. But a chance meeting at a bathhouse? Thats far more manageable.

Alrighty then! I said. Ive never been to one of those before. I also havent taken a bath in a while.

Please keep your strange hygiene issues to yourself, Amaryllis said.

Im clean, I protested, but it fell on deaf ears. If I didnt have cleaning magic, Id take baths all the time, I swear.

It was Amaryllis who took the lead and guided Awen and I back towards the more fancy districts of Goldenalden. We went up a stairwell, then hopped over a few easy rooftop gaps on a meandering path towards part of the city that seemed a little older. The plateau there was more pronounced, with buildings spaced out on a flat rocky surface.

Most buildings were distinctly sylph-style, but one of them stood out like a sore thumb. It was made of stone, like the others, but instead of being all angular and brutalist, it was round, with the second floors and up made of carved wooden panels occasionally broken up by circular windows.

That has to be the grenoil embassy, I said.

Did you read the sign? Amaryllis snarked.

I blinked, and only then noticed the swaying sign next to the buildings lot. It very clearly had the address, and Deepmarsh Embassy, embossed on it. Oh, I said.

The bathhouse should be one street down, Amaryllis muttered.

We eventually found it. The bathhouse was rather squat and fairly large. Smoke poured out of a pair of chimneys at the back. Just inside the entrance was made up of a large lobby area, with seats and a big counter before a trio of double doors. One labelled Men, the other Women and the last Other.

I stared around as we slid in and Amaryllis moved to the counter. A few coins were paid to a young sylph woman who then accompanied us into the womens section. The main area was filled with cubicles with little pads next to them. A push of mana into the pad would lock it, and only the same persons mana would unlock it.

I nodded. That made sense.

Amaryllis reached up to her head and plucked a small feather out with a tug. These are contour feathers. Theyre shorter and fatter, to make you more aerodynamic in flight. I grabbed the little feather and twitched it this way and that.

Does it hurt to pluck them out? I asked.

Only a little. Its a... relieving pain when you take an injured feather out. Like cracking your spine to work out a kink. Now, these are wing feathers. she ran her talons through the longer feathers in her arms. These are the easiest to care for. They need to have all their barbs lined up properly. Those are the little arms sticking out of the main shaft of the feather. There are smaller feathers under the wing feathers, for insulating, and you need to make sure theyre not curled up underneath.

I nodded, then gingerly grabbed her arm. It took a bit of focus, but it really wasn't all that hard. She stared at me, one eyebrow raised, as I lifted her wing feathers up and then tugged the feathers under it straighter.

Youre actually not bad at this, Amaryllis said. She relaxed against the baths side. You could find work as a preener. What with your little human hands.

Awen giggled at that before asking a question, Dont you use any tools? For preening, I mean.

Of course we do, but some puritans only use their talons.

Awen nodded. I can think of a few ways you might make hooks to grab the smaller feathers underneath. Or small brushes.

Hmm, I agreed. I found a broken feather near Amaryllis elbow joint. What do I do with this? I asked.

Amaryllis had to twist her head to see the feather near her elbow. It was no wonder harpies needed help preening if they couldnt see what they were doing. Oh, thats broken. Just tug it out. Its probably best to pile the broken feathers on the side, we dont want to make a mess.

I pinched my tongue and tugged the feather out. Amaryllis hissed, but she didnt flinch. I placed the wet feather to the side and went back to playing with Amaryllis feathers. I wish I had feathers, theyre neat.

Youve changed species once already, isnt that enough for you? Amaryllis asked. If you truly want, Im sure you can become some monstrous multispecies chimera.

Does that happen? I asked.

It does, actually. Much like how you evolved into a bun, some people will evolve into multiple other things. Usually that requires three or four classes though, which means, obviously, that those people are ridiculously strong.

Huh, I said.

Amaryllis tensed, and for a moment I was afraid Id done something wrong, but a glance at her face and I noticed that she was staring out towards the entrance.

I shifted around and noticed a group of people entering the baths. Frog people.

There were three of them, squat female grenoil with greenish skin that already glistened wetly with all of the humidity in the room clinging to them. The three moved right over to the big bath we were in and lowered themselves into the hot water with happy croaky sighs.

Is that them? I asked Amaryllis.

Possibly, Amaryllis said, theyre definitely from the embassy, judging by their classes.

I glanced over to the grenoil again. One was a Secretary, of all things, and the other two were a Ribbiting Conversationalist and a Cold-Blooded Politician.

It was actually hard to tell which one was the most important one when none of them were wearing anything. Still...

Hi there! I said with a wave. Do you come here often?

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