#odyssey

"Big blast?"

A slow nod. “Oh yes. Bout, oh, just shy of twenty years ago as the mortals reckon. When they set off the volcano.”

"Oh my"

"...What?"

“They claim Too many tourists. Too many people, digging into their secrets. Some suspect it was a working gone wrong. But who is to say?” A boneless shrug to accompany the whisper.

“Half the island was changed to an exclusion zone. Two thirds of the population fled.”

"That sounds awful."

"Condolances if you lost any family or loved ones, Elder"

“No casualties. The inhabited areas received very little, if any, ash accumulation. Quite convenient.”

“That is, for the freehold and fae parts of town. The capital city was quite destroyed.”

"Whoa"

“She rumbles. On and off. Generally around when there is talk of rebuilding.”

"So, the Redfins reeaallllyyy want to own this island."

"How many other fae are around?"

“Not many stick around, not when there are greener pastures than this little old Emerald Isle.”

“I'm old and stubborn. Set in my ways, or maybe they don't want to mess with an old snake-man.”

"We have sluagh at home. Don't think they're going anywhere, either."

A thin, amused smile, one that knows more than it lets on.

Then, conversationally, “don't be thinking you'll get a peak at my Witchin’ books, boy. That knowledge, she not for you.”

A slight flush from Art. “I wouldn't have presumed.”

"he's much better now sir, and... since it is considered good manners to give information to a sluagh when they help you, Lizbet's Togail will be soon. I don't know if you know her, a wonderful girl. Proper, fast on her feet. I think of her as a friend"

“Is that so? Well, if you survive your challenge, then stop by before you go home. I’ll send my regards and a gift besides.”

"You're too kind, Judge" A grateful bob of her head

“The Louis boys what brung you, they can show you a nice little bungalow, rents by the night. They will try to fleece you for the privilege, but they good boys. Little Louis has Redfin Kin, but he too young to know much.”

A nod to Thistle to see if she's good with that. Clearly Gwen thinks it's a good idea

The day has gone long with conversation, it is now past lunchtime.

"That sounds like a solution for tonight. Can't hold a grudge for trying to hustle."

"Just don't make it too easy for them"

"Well, we only have so much cash unless there's an ATM"

“Places here are happy to get US currency. Now, if you need a loan… very affordable rates from a little old witchman.” He says with all innocence.

Art bows politely and answers, “I think we can manage, though we appreciate the offer.”

"I might have to get some pottery to take home..."

"Are these made here? On the island?"

“They are.” He smiles, politely not showing gums, and shows off the goods to the trio. There are colorful scarves and woven baskets and plentiful goods, some carved trinkets and kitchen wares.

Art points out a set of salad forks that are hand carved of some dark wood and inlaid in the handle with a design. “These are eye catching. For your mother, maybe?” To Gwen.

Citrine plays with some beaten bells that tinkle. “Drive away bad energy, those.” The Obeah man says.

"Maybe if everything works out I could see the kilns..." A sigh.

"Baby first, of course."