Adam walked silently down the short corridor that led to the circular common room. Vizeran had given them all rooms that led to the shared space. After the way their host had isolated Thia before dinner, Jinnaari thought it wise that some of the party keep an eye on her room during the night.

He didn’t tell Thia that, though. Not to Adam’s knowledge anyway. He agreed with both not telling her, and the watch. Her nerves were shot. She needed to rest before they set out again. It was likely to get a lot worse for her before it got better.

A quiet sobbing reached his ears before he got to the room. Worried, he picked up the pace. Pan sat on one of the couches, arms wrapped around his alchemy jug, with tears streaming down his face.

“Pan?” he asked, looking toward Thia’s door. It was closed. “What’s wrong?”

“I just feel so bad for her,” he hiccupped, then took another swig from the jug. “She didn’t ask for any of this. She had a great life with Uncle Bran. And now all she has left of him is that little box! And she’s being hunted!”

Slowly, Adam sat next to the drunk man. “Can I have some?” he asked, reaching for the jug. He didn’t want any, but it was clear Pan had drunk more than enough.

Pan let go and wiped his nose with his sleeve. “I want to do something, Adam. Something nice for her. The way she talks about Uncle Bran, I know they were close. His death still bothers her. I just wish….” His voice trailed off as he looked at Adam.

Adam knew that look. Whatever the druid had thought of in his drunken stupor, it probably wasn’t a good idea.

“You can talk to the dead, can’t you?” Pan whispered.

“Well, yes, but there’s limits to it,” he answered.

The other man smiled broadly. “That’s perfect! You just need to summon his spirit! I volunteer as a host! Then I’ll go in her room, wake her up, and he can talk to her! That’ll make her feel better!” He started bouncing on the seat with excitement.

“But it doesn’t work that way,” he tried to explain. “I need the body of the person, for one.”

“No…really…I’ll do this!” Pan stopped moving and closed his eyes. “Come on, Adam! I’m ready! Infuse my body with Thia’s dad so she can talk to him!”

Adam caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Jinnaari stood in the doorway to his room, a puzzled expression on his face. Thinking quickly, Adam rose and walked over to the paladin. Shoving the jug at him, he muttered, “He’s your problem. I’m going back to bed,” and walked toward his room again.