Everyone turned as Akun entered the dining hall. Kip was giving Akun his best attempt at a glare. Akun shrugged his shoulders and said, “Got lost. Sorry.”

  “Ah!” Said the king, “That must be the demon. Come! Take a seat! We’ve been stocking your food for you. Where’d you run off to?”

  “Library. Did some light reading. The art on the walls is… something.”

  He saw the empty chair right next to Kip’s. He walked over and took it.

  “No, no,” said the king, “Not there. That is for the lovely elf, what was her name?”

  “Lala, King Sezami.” Said Kip.

  “Lala?” Akun placed both his hands on the table and did a big exaggerated look around, “I don’t see her anywhere. So, looks like this spot’s open. Don’t it?”

  Akun laid back on the chair, so much so that it stood on it’s back legs and he placed his feet on the table, “Damn, this is a long table. What kinda guests you usually get in here?”

  The king stared at the pit fiend with his feet on the table, and he shook his head, “I love this guy. Seriously. Feet on the table at dinner! Is this some kind of fiendish tradition? Do you eat with your feet as well?”

  “Matter o’ fact. I eat with my hands. Hope you don’t mind.” Akun grabbed the leafy green off the plate and chomped on it. The king could see the greens getting chomped on.

  “Akun,” Kip whispered, “Let’s remember to use our best manners here. We are in the king’s company.”

  “Who? This guy?” And he pointed with his bony finger. Danver sat up in his chair, “I’ll have you know that pointing is highly rude in the ulmund empire. I ask you to keep your manners in check.”

  “Pointing is quite rude to us in Shangra as well, Akun.”

  “Who are you?” Akun pointed his finger at Danver. Danver balked, “My mistake. We have a rich culture of pointing fingers in fiendish culture. I’m not just a Shangran, Kip. I’m a fiend as well,” then he turned to the king, “You lot know about fiends.”

  “No.” The king said as he sucked his thumb, “But I’d like to be. Tell me, what’s the most fiendish thing you’ve ever done?”

  “He tried to ussssurp our king!” Said Jasssper.

  “Not helping, Jasssper.” Said Kip

  “How isss that not helping?” Jasssper asked, “That’s pretty bad.”

  “Most fiendish thing I’ve ever done?” The pit fiend asked, “Glad you asked. See… I’m a heavy on the 6th floor. Magma, hellstone, that sort of thing. We had one of your lot, an Ulmun. Thought himself a hero type. Came to kill the dark lord.” He looked at Kip, “The real dark lord.”

  “Let’s not tell war stories at dinner.” Said Kip, growing more nervous.

  “No, no. I want to hear this.” Said the king, “Tell me. If he made it all the way to the sixth floor, I must have known his name. Tell it to me.”

  “I didn’t catch it as I bashed his skull in.” Said Akun as he bit the head off the pheasant.

  “Tamas would like to play a tune!” Said Kip, who turned to Tamas, “Wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes.” Said Tamas drolly as he stood up with his lute, “Which should I play, Kip?”

  The king scoffed, “you have your subjects call you by your first name? Without even your moniker?”

  “It’s easier to say,” Said Kip, “And Tamas, we’d like you to play your piece: Helping the Ducks Across The Pond.”

  Tamas nodded knowingly. Kip had given him the signal to play a song that would ease the king into a state of heightened suggestibility.

  “Just so you know, Kip,” Tamas said, “If the king is deadset on not hearing that song… it’s not going to help that I play it.”

  “I understand that. But I’m out of ideas. I’m sure it couldn’t hurt for the king to hear the song.”

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  “It might hurt… if the king’s… heard the song before. Or he hears it and he… fails to understand it.”

  “Play the bloody song, what do I care?” The king asked, “Let’s hear the great faun’s ballad.”

  “Satyr.” Said Tamas, “But fine, for you, dear dark lord, I shall play a ballad for the king.”

  Akun leaned into Kip, the heat from his head burning hot, “It’s not going to work.”

  “Well, I’ve got to bloody try something, don’t I?”

  Tamas got up and he played a tune. A ballad he had dubbed, “Helping The Ducks Across The Pond.”

  As Tamas began to play his instrument, his fingers danced on the strings of the loot. The vibrations echoed. The notes rippling from their origin and traveling to the ears of the king. Kip bobbed his head along, watching the king’s expression with the expert study. The microexpressions on the king’s face were beginning to change. Kip saw that the King’s attention was being brought away from the food and toward Tamas. He put his mutton down. Kip could see it. The king had fallen for the suggestability spell.

  Kip leaned and asked, “Brilliant, isn’t he?”

  “Brilliant. Yes.” Said the king, his mindspace in a daze.

  “He’s played for kings before, in the feywild. Used to be in a band for the summer courts.”

  “Summer courts,” The feeling of jubilation sprung up in the king’s belly like a kind of drunkenness. He giggled.

  “You know, he couldn’t do this without the proper practice.” Kip mumbled to the king.

  “Too right.” King Sezami said, “too right, young Kip.”

  Jasssper, Storm, and Tamas all watched as Kip worked his own kind of magic, on the king. Akun, on the other hand, was beginning to wonder where Lala was.

  “I really believe education transcends everything. Politics. Borders. Wouldn’t you agree?” Kip asked.

  “Couldn’t agree more.”

  Tamas maintained the tune, imparting his mana into the spell. Taking the King’s mind through a journey, reaching channels and backways that took shortcuts through the guard’s he’d put up right to the decision-making center of the brain.

  “Amazing.” Said Kip softly, “What if we could give that chance to someone deserving? My young prodigy would do some amazing work and we’d be so grateful, we’d be willing to work with you. Maybe provide you with some of our supplies of Duergar Brandy? Provides quite a kick. Able to take down our very own minotaur for half the price of a barrel of mead.”

  “My… that sounds… interesting.”

  Akun stared back at the king’s face. Kip spoke up, “Not just the brandy. Our floors are all microclimates. The distinct ecologies we make in them allow us to maintain exotic herbs, spices, dyes etcetera. This could start up a whole trade where Ulmun gets precious goods for cheaper.”

  The king’s eyes flitted open and closed. He yawned and stretched his hands out. Akun rolled the nerves that would have been attached to eyes as he took another bite of his food.

  “It’s… an interesting proposition.”

  Danver had his arms crossed. He looked at the king, “It.. is, your highness?”

  “It is.” Said the king.

  “It’s just that in prior discussions.”

  Akun stared down Danver, “Prior discussions ain’t now, is it?”

  Danver looked at Akun’s steely gaze. His face growing weary. He looked over at Tamas, “But still… King…”

  “Asss and advisor,” Said Jasssper, “I can assure you the king can make his own decision.”

  “I know that.” Said Danver, growing more concerned. He looked at Tamas, “You there, stop playing that. Knock that off at once. Seems the King is making an important decision.”

  Tamas looked at Kip, who shook his head slightly, “Sorry. It’s just… I’m in a flow state. I really have to take advantage of this.”

  Danver looked back at the king, “Your highness.. I urge you-”

  The king put his hand up, so that Danver ceased talking. The king looked at Kip, “That is a very interesting offer…” he reached over and grabbed his goblet of wine, drinking it, “But he answer is still no.”

  Danver smiled. Kip let out a sharp exhale through his nose and everyone else silently cringed at the plan not working. Akun had been busy writing on his napkin. He handed it to Kip. It was written crudely, in fiendish. Kip read it.

  “Lala saysd, the king is playing us. Just LAUGHS. Intertainment. No Deal.”

  Kip stared at it.

  “Should… I stop playing?” Tamas asked.

  Kip absorbed what the paper said, and immediately thought of the games. Akun was telling him something. Poorly, but telling him that the king only responded to flights of fancy.

  “No, don’t stop.” Kip said, then he looked at the king, “You love your games, don’t you?”

  The king nodded his head, drearily, still under the effects of suggestibility, “Oh yes.”

  “What do you often give the winnders?” Kip asked.

  The king looked at the three people there, “What is it you want?” The king asked.

  “Uh,” Said one of the people there, “My daughter. She was sold into slavery to a noblemen named-”

  The king waved his hand, “Done. Done. Give the name to Danver and all… What about you?”

  “I want gold,” Said the second person, “Lotsa gold.”

  The king’s head drifted toward Danver, “Make it so.”

  “And you…”

  “You know what I want?” Kip asked. The king turned his attention back to Kip, “I want to give you the best games you’ve ever seen.”

  The king snorted, “I’d like that very much.”

  “Then let’s do it. Put me and my team in the games. If we win, we only want one thing. To admit our student into Steerboil. What say you?”

  Tamas was reaching his final riff. Danver placed his hands on the table about to speak up. The king beat him to it.

  “Done.”

  Lala was stuck in the stall with Ironwood. Ironwood’s hand was still holding Lala’s hair, “AhH!” yelled Lala, “I’ll scream! I’ll scream and..”

  Ironwood dropped her. Lala fell to the ground and began crawling away. Ironwood was breathing heavily. So angry that they took their fist and slammed it against the wall of the washroom. Lala got up and ran to the window. She opened it but the ground was a full floor below. She turned back to Ironwood, who was still looking at her.

  Ironwood approached Lala. She began trying to open the window, but it was bolted shut. Ironwood reached for the helmet.

  “We need to talk.” Said Ironwood as she removed her helmet and revealed the exact same face that Lala had minus the scar.

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