Hy-Jinx looks down at Hood, puzzled as to the change that seems to have overcome him. The dark tendrils seem to not only be present in his hand but twisting and coiling about his head now as well - weird swirling fibres. Not that they appear to be doing him any harm, although the dim haze of colours that merge and flow about him seem to be a hodgepodge of random emotions - mainly sadness, it would seem, if Hy-Jinx’s understanding is correct. She wonders just what is going through his head, if anything, at the moment. “Don’t worry Hood, we’ll be there shortly and you can get rested and healed up,” whispers Hy-Jinx, bending low, before straightening up, continuing to hold Hood’s hand in hers, as she walks beside him through the tunnel. The two guild members who are carrying him seem to be doing so without much effort, happy, it would seem, just carrying out this simple duty, judging by the colours emanating from them.

The whole group of them walk in total darkness - Masqued Maerin ‘leading’ the way, with the other female masque bringing up the rear. The two normal guild members clearly intimately familiar with this passageway to be able to traverse it in the dark.

As they walk, Hy-Jinx considers where the passage is leading them and tries to fit things together in her mind to make sense of where they are going. “I thought there were no passages near the library,” she states as a question, and has to wait several moments before she gets a reply.

“These don’t connect with the Outer Fayre,” the female masque says from behind. “And they’re not original to the old city. They’re a limited network which we’ve developed from the sewer system of the ‘Lesser’ manses - allows us some easy routes here and there.”

“And where’s there?” asks Hy-Jinx.

“There would be nearly,” replies the masque, a humorous tone creeping into her voice.

“I was hoping for almost,” quips Hy-Jinx in response, the world becoming brighter and rosier as she speaks.

“Well, I hate to disappoint,” says Masqued Maerin, “for we are no longer, for the latter is now the former.”

“Why’s that then?” asks Hy-Jinx.

“Well…we are here,” and as he finishes his sentence, a dull rumbling clink sounds out, followed by the grinding of oiled stone on stone, and light begins to creep around the edges of stonework, before flooding the tunnel - not that Hy-Jinx would notice - as a section of curved wall rotates to reveal Madame Masque standing with a large brass candelabra - five candles blazing brightly. The Guild members squint their eyes and wait for a moment as they become accustomed to the light, and as they do so, Hy-Jinx takes advantage of the pause in proceedings and takes in the scene, smiling to herself as behind Madame Masque, row upon row of wine bottles are stacked up in racks. Affectionate as Hy-Jinx is, she knows when to let go of a hand for the opportunity of pilfering, and as they follow Madame Masque through the cellar, and up a flight of wooden steps, the weight of Hood’s satchel increases significantly and the capacity of Hy-Jinx’s pockets decreases to zero.

At the top of the steps they pass through a wooden archway into a large flagstoned kitchen. A cat curled up asleep on top of one of the work surfaces, lazily opening an eye to watch disinterested in the passing entourage. Passing from the kitchen they move into a tiled hallway and up a another flight of stairs to emerge into a large entrance hall, again tiled but styled in aligned segments forming sets of concentric circles around a heraldic device, seemingly to Hy-Jinx’s eyes to be some sort of family crest, but she is too enamoured of the large glistening chandelier and the beautifully carved grand staircase to pay any attention to it. Her mouth drops open at the grandeur of what she is seeing and then she realises that this is allegedly a manse within the ‘Lesser’ quarter, so her mind boggles at just how palatial they must be in the ‘Grand’. In such contemplation she cannot but allow a smidgeon of envy to flit across her heart and in so doing, as the world darkens about her, she remembers the orphanage where she was raised and a strange pang of nostalgia arises for Sister Josephine and ‘The House of Abandonment’ on Moon Street - for ‘waifs and strays’ - known colloquially within the Outer Fayre as the ‘The Olde Dears’. Strange she reflects how opposites seem to summon one another, but her reflection is interrupted…

“I think it safe to say that we shall have no meeting tonight, we shall reconvene tomorrow eve, all things being well, and all being well rested. How fares our little mage?” asks Madame Masque.

Hy-Jinx doesn’t respond until she suddenly realises that the question was addressed at her. “Oh, I think he’s okay,” says Hy-Jinx. “But if you have some Billum root tonic, I believe that can be helpful.”

“I’ll see that some is prepared. In the meantime. Masqued Maeve, would you be so gracious as to show our guests to their rooms please?”

“As you wish, Madame Masque,” Masqued Maeve says, curtsying formally with no sense of self consciousness. “Please,” she says to Hy-Jinx, ”If you will follow me,” and she leads the way up the grand staircase, feet silent upon thick carpet, the guildsmen, carrying Hood, following after.