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"Look, I know you don't want to see us," you say. "We didn't really want to see you, either, but we were told you're the one to talk to about demons, which is what we need if we're going to keep the world from falling apart again."

Alvis has gone very still beside you, but after a moment, Agatha gives you a faint smile. "That's…well put, Jun. In a way. Please, come in." She opens the door wider to admit you. Alvis looks astonished.

The Carrases' house seems to double as a tailors' shop, the front room lined with bolts of cloth and plain but serviceable clothing. There are no employees in evidence, though, aside from Agatha herself. She guides you back to a door behind the front counter.

"You're here to investigate the prophecy's return, then?" she says. "You're welcome to anything that can help. We…don't want history repeating itself any more than you do." She opens the door and gestures inside.

If you didn't know better, you'd swear the portal had already opened and the emerging demons had decided to savage the Carrases' back room exclusively. Books and loose parchment are scattered on every available surface, open and shut and balancing half-open on the edges of tables.

"My apologies for the mess," Agatha says, as though it's an afterthought. "There was a woman here today already, and she seemed…overwrought. She was the one who said to expect you."

"A woman?" Alvis glances at you. "Did Meredith come here first, do you think? We already know she's not overly fond of books." He casts a dark look at Meredith's apparent handiwork.

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"I'll leave you to that, then," Agatha says over her shoulder as she returns to the counter. "My husband's gone out, and someone needs to mind the shop. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you not to stay too long."

"This is useless," Alvis says under his breath. "We'll never sort through all this without her help. If the prophecy's proceeding as before, we don't have time to spare. We need to get Agatha back in here, though one can imagine why she's not eager to spend time with us."

Agatha is surveying a length of linen in the front room with more attention than you think linen really warrants. Alvis is right that it won't be easy to make any use of this mess without the person who's at least partially responsible for it.

You return to the front counter. "Are you sure you can't help us out, Agatha?" you say with a desperate grin.

"I'm sorry, Jun, I'm afraid I can't," Agatha says. She sounds genuinely apologetic.

Her expression threatens to turn hard when you open your mouth to try again, and you trudge back into her study. You pore through pages for what feels like hours and turn up nothing more than a chronology of the times the portal has opened since Ilias the Realm-Warden made the seal, which you already knew, and an odd metaphysical treatise examining the ways in which demons can mislead even though they're incapable of uttering lies. Alvis pushes his glasses up onto his forehead and presses his palms into his eyes.

"I don't mean to rush you," Agatha says, tapping lightly on the door, "but do you think you'll be here much longer?"

Before Agatha can say anything else, you hear someone calling from the front hall.

"Are you in the study, Agatha? I couldn't find them anywhere, and no one but that woman seems to think they're here at all. She's not still here, is she?"

A slight, balding man sticks his head into the study. His eyes go wide when he sees you standing an arm's length away from him. "Oh! Oh, they're—Agatha, you said you'd send word if they really did come by!"

Agatha has gone very still.

The man extends his hand for you to shake. "I'm Thomas Carras, and you must be Jun. I've always hoped you'd come back to Pasema someday!"

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