Therr’ka walked the cobbled streets of Thalgorrin in deep thought. She vaguely perceived Kerru, whom she carried in a small pouch on her belt, grumbling discontentedly. But she was too preoccupied with her own thoughts. The relief valve, the installation of which had been a subject of passionate debate hundreds of Passages ago, had fulfilled its function for the first time yesterday. A commotion broke out in the Library, and Lethra, Therr’ka’s mentor and friend, immediately summoned her to duty.
Kerru’s discontent was growing in intensity. Therr’ka stopped and carefully reached into her bag. In her palm appeared a small, furry, and bright pink creature — an Ilaru. Kerru had become Therr’ka’s Guide when she was still a child, and their Bond was therefore unshakable.
“Come now, what is the matter?” Therr’ka whispered, scratching him under the chin with her finger. Kerru slowly calmed down, began to purr contentedly, and stretched. Then he looked her straight in the eyes. “So, what have you come up with? Why did that valve trigger? I heard your thoughts more than my own.”
“I don’t know, Kerru. I don’t understand it. That valve was only supposed to trigger if Tal’gorr was threatened by something similar to what once happened to the continent of Keth. I’m nervous. Lethra wanted to tell me what she read from the steam, but I refused. I will read it myself.”
Kerru smirked: “Yes, there you go again. Calm down and focus on the steam, not the valve. Are you the High-Ranking Steam-Empath of Relief Valves or what?” Therr’ka smiled. “You’re right, Kerru. Thank you.”
Therr’ka slowly brought her left hand toward the hissing discharge from the relief valve. Lethra and the choir of Archivists stood nearby, hardly daring to breathe. Therr’ka waited. The steam needed time to recognize her.
That moment came soon. The steam began to form complex, ever-changing patterns around Therr’ka’s hand, until it finally embraced her completely. It was a critical moment — if the steam were too hot, the Empath would end up with severe burns. However, if it were too cold, it would lose its “communicativeness.”
Therr’ka moved the fingers of her left hand and then plunged her second hand into the hot cloud. Suddenly, her eyes widened. “This is not good. This is not good at all. The steam knows something bad is happening, but it doesn’t know where. It thinks we will need help.”
She pulled her hands out of the steam discharge and turned to the others. “The steam knows the names of two Lumins who could help us. Someone named Marnok, and then Seyra. I don’t know Marnok, but I know Seyra. Kerru will connect with Lira and invite Seyra and Lira here to the Library. But who is this Marnok?”
“Marnok,” said Kerru, who was now sitting on her shoulder, watching Therr’ka’s reading of the steam intently, “has a guide named Bipilon. That is the most poisonous lizard in all of Sionareth.”
“The most poisonous? Won’t he poison us?” Therr’ka gasped.
Kerru gave a light chuckle: “You must, above all, not listen to him. That is his greatest poison. Shall I contact them and invite them to the Library?”
Tirr, the Head Archivist, and Lethra both nodded suddenly and in synchronization.
Bipilon’s Note
“Hey, I take offense at that ‘most poisonous’ thing! I’m just… honest. But seriously, if that safety valve let out a puff after hundreds of Passings, then something’s brewing in Tal’gorr that not even ten Empaths could fix. Therr’ka may have delicate hands, but Marnok and I will have to bring the muscle and a bit of common sense. We’re heading to the Library — and I hope Tirr still has those daniriky!”