A letter: To Jenson
[Written in Eris' elegant hand, the writing is a hint shaky, and meanders far from the straight lines of her usual script. The paper smells faintly of smoky alcohol.]
Jenson!
You're back! The papers are a-buzz with the wrenching of Jack from our streets. I believe your name was mentioned several hundred times. Jack is dead? Jack is dead! Your journey must have been awful, there and back, and I hope the Voices didn't give you more trouble than they were worth.
Did you like the things that the wind and the waves whispered to you? I'm sure you heard them - they get into your head and they can tell you which way to go. It's marvellous, isn't it? And they know what you want, I think, and I think that they're part of the Thunder, but not part of the pull that sends people North. I think that's why your things come to life - the Thunder has a voice, and maybe it's part of Polythreme, so it can speak like inkwells and sausages and forks, which makes dinner-time difficult but not insurmountable because some of us can eat things that are screaming. Silence laughed, when she was there, you know - she set into her dinner with obvious relish, which even I found unsettling.
But I need to offer congratulations! You set fire to Jack! That's impressive. I'm impressed. And overwhelmed. After all that, maybe I don't need to worry, though I know you said I needn't worry at any rate, but sadly, I was, still, worried. You've accomplished so much. Did you know, I would put money on them building you a statue. You and...well, you. Because...you have a partner. In all this. How is he?
Honoria came by and asked about you and she and women and men, and I don't think I'm the best person to give such advice, since my whole experience is with a Tomb-colonist and a constable who chased me over the Atlantic ocean because I'm a terrible, terrible person. And a Captain! But not quite. Well, not Maxwell, I mean. What I mean to say, is, do be good to her. She's wonderfully sweet and honest and she blushes which is beautiful that someone hasn't yet been broken enough to still blush the way she does.
I can't wait to read more about you in the papers.
~Eris