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[Harlequin]

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Morning. Already. Quinn whimpered and rolled over, burying her head under the blankets. The fireplace was bereft of flame, and her thin nightgown afforded her no protection against the chill of the cabin. But simultaneously, two thoughts struck her, and her eyes flew open. She allowed them both to sink in, rather than letting them battle it out in her head.

I must speak with Gray.

The child will have to die.

Harlequin slid out of the bed without another hesitation and wrapped herself in a white silk dressing gown. She would indulge the former thought, and push the latter aside. She took out a quill and a sheet of white parchment, then sat down at the table to write.

Dear Gray,

I should hope that this letter finds you happy and well. I cannot tell you how enlightening I found our discourse at Mazewood. You are indeed a miracle of nature, having learned so much in your young life. I should like to spend more time learning even a portion of all you know, if you have the time to dedicate to such mundane conversation. I would also endeavour to learn the schematic for these arrows you mentioned at the tavern. Your gadgets and ideas never cease to amaze me.
I will meet you at your leisure, if you find the idea agreeable. You may send your reply via my pet. He will return to me faithfully.

Yours Sincerely,

Quinn

Carefully she rolled the parchment and tied it with a black ribbon to the leg of a pied crow who sat on a perch in the window. Then she carried him to the door and urged him forth. “Quickly now, Ansel, to the Isle of Avatar.”
_________________
Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
~Paul Laurence Dunbar

[Gray Smythe]

---

Gray stared cockeyed at the bird upon reading the letter. He tossed it a treat; a piece of meat chemically enriched with the essence of black pearl. Hobbling up the stairs to his desk, he fetched a parchment only moderately stained with ink and potion residue. The best of the bunch he thought idly to himself as he set down to pen a response.

Dear Quinn,

I am quite well indeed, as I hope you remain. I would be more than pleased to meet with you to continue our intercourse of the evening past. A location more fitting of the subject of discussion may be appropriate and welcomed. As such I must suggest the past residence of Gregory Ironhand, a tinker once residing in the farmlands outside of Jhelom. I set my best date as this approaching Saturday at 1700 hours. I welcome the distraction to my work. It is not often I allot myself personal time, let alone time for socialization. I have fed your feathered companion and do hope you hold no qualms with this.

I look forward to our meeting. I will bring supplies.

Sincerely,

Gray Smythe

P.S. While I do appreciate the admirable compliments, flattery is unbecoming of men and women of science. As Brother Jouster stresses, humility is the most valuable virtue. Until we meet.

He smiled to himself, penning the last line on the parchment. He mused, stringing the letter to the crow's leg and offering him one more morsel before sending him off. I suppose I should go prepare.
_________________
SCIENCE!!

[Harlequin]

---

Tap…Tap…Tap…

Harlequin sat in the dark at her table, chin resting drowsily on one hand as she waggled a silver arrow between the index and middle fingers of the other. The arrow tapped the table rhythmically as she stared pensively into the darkness. The black ribbons of her mask had been loosed, the black and white mask rested atop her head.

There has to be a compromise. He’s a smart kid. If he knows what’s best for his sister AND for Stonegate, he’ll strike a deal with me. Quinn slid the arrow behind her ear, lit a candle, then took up parchment and quill to write.

Dear Gray,

I have given thought to the stipulation you set forth for my apprenticeship. I believe that we can come to terms that will be agreeable to both of us. I whole-heartedly believe that we reap what we sow. As you have no doubt discerned by now, I am a woman of my word. I will not agree to conditions that I cannot uphold – I will not make promises that I don’t intend to keep.

If you are willing to meet me again, we can discuss the matters further. I would be willing to travel again to the location where last we met, at your leisure. Ansel, my pet, will be glad to return to me with your response, should you so desire.

Peace, Till Soon,
Quinn Morgan
_________________
Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
~Paul Laurence Dunbar

[Gray Smythe]

---

Squawk! His head shot up from the book on his desk as he was quickly jolted from sleep by the crow in the window. He recognized it rather quickly and went over the fetch the letter, trading the bird a small morsel of salted meat and a pat on the head for the scroll about his leg.

After she was so absolute in her denial of my conditions, I wonder what she still has to write, concerning us. Opening the scroll, he set his thoughts aside to the see the nature of her writings. A grin crossed his lips as he read the first line and steadily grew as he read on. Looking to Ansel he gave a shrug, the bird all but ignoring him as he contended with his treat.

Dear Quinn,

A woman of your word, I have gathered. A lesser person would have accepted my terms only to shatter them when the opportunity was right to exact their own purpose. While there is still uncertainty as to whether or not you may do this, I shall meet with you to discuss what it is that has coerced you to send this letter.

Gregory Ironhand's will be acceptable for a second meeting and I will await you there on, shall we say, Tuesday at 2000 hours. If you find this time agreeable I will see you there. If you do not please forward a response more convenient to your schedule.

Bring a sample of your work. Something you have personally made with your hands. I will judge, then, whether or not you are even capable of maneuvering the small parts for manufacturing.

Sincerely,

Gray Smythe

Re-reading his work, he rolled the parchment and clamped it off with a light metal clasp. Gray toddled back over to Ansel and tied it around his leg, offering another morsel of salted meat. Waving at the bird, he sent him on his way, and sat back down at his desk.

At least she is persistent and obviously dedicated. That is always a good way to begin a relationship of this manner. His face scrunched up as he looked back to his desk. She's kind of weird though... With a shrug at his final thoughts on the matter of Quinn, the last distraction he allowed of himself, he set back to work diligently.
_________________
SCIENCE!!

[Harlequin]

---

CAWWWW! CAWWWWW!!

Quinn startled, the stroke of her paintbrush nearly ruined. She carefully joined up with the dusky charcoal line that radiated from her eyeliner, finishing it with a curled flourish. "There. Now. You know not to interrupt me while I'm painting." She tossed Ansel a scrap of meat and smiled. "I have a job for you, Little One."

Carefully, she painted her lips with a brilliant red pout and examined her work in the mirror. The lines were always so much more crisp when they were first painted. By midday, they would fade into smoky wisps that melted into the stained white of her flesh.

Harlequin took a pen and a sheet of parchment, then sat to jot a short note.

Dear Gray,

Due to an unforeseen and confidential circumstance, I shall not be able to meet with you this night. I do hope that it doesn’t inconvenience you, and that we may continue this meeting, say, Thursday evening perhaps, at 8 bells past midday? Please, take care of yourself, till next we meet. If you require a different day or time, feel free to let me know.

Thanks ever-so…
Quinn Morgan

She rolled the parchment and attached it to Ansel’s leg and whispered instructions with a stroke over the top of his head. Then, with one last look in the mirror she smirked, threw her quiver over one shoulder and grabbed her bow on the way out the door. Time to go hunting.
_________________
Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
~Paul Laurence Dunbar

[Gray Smythe]

---

Gray took the note with a smirk. After reading it he didn't even bother to spend another parchment for his reply. He flipped the letter over and wrote in big lettering on the back with a charcoal pencil.

Okay!

He grinned, rolling the note so his side was out, and tied it back onto the bird's leg.

He fed Ansel a scrap of meat and set him off on his way.
_________________
SCIENCE!!