Desparately Seeking Spirshash [6 Trandary 4261]
I wasn't sure if I was still welcome in Spirshash's apartment on Boilingbowl Street -- or his company -- or his city -- or his pancosm. I brought a wing of zabouf and a bottle of Oskameeska at lunchtime, and made the attempt.
I am not welcome in Spirshash's apartment on Boilingbowl Street. Nor, it seems, is Spirshash. Nor Tillissa, nor Oostmarine. Actually the dwellers in the apartment were not the least bit unpleasant about it: two Herethroy of the minor nobility and a Sleeth -- a Sleeth! -- who are starting at the Academy this term, and counted themselves lucky to find a recently-emptied apartment. But they didn't know where Spirshash had gone, nor did they know what had happened in particular. For those facts I must speak to their landlord, the dread Nullfister Roogrie himself.
Nullfister Roogrie was in his offices, which are large and huge and extensive and so full of odd bits of furniture that there is barely room for a Rassimel and a Zi Ri. At first he was cordial, thinking that I had come asking for a place to rent. At second he was delighted, because we got sidetracked and discussed places to rent coming up at the end of the term -- there's a very nice house or two which will surely be free, and I could well enjoy not having any Evil Neighbors, even Evil Neighbors as personable as Ghirbis.
At third he was annoyed but, in light of the second, determined to be civil. Spirshash, Oostmarine, and Tillissa had -- in his estimation -- abducted nearly months' rent from him, and painted horrible agonized Rassimel heads all over the apartment as well. Tillissa had promised him at one point that Oostmarine would pay; then Oostmarine got his divorcing from a batch of eels, and stopped living there, and of course did not volunteer to pay any debts. In any case, Nullfister Roogrie had nothing good to say about Oostmarine or Tillissa.
He was tolerably well-disposed towards Spirshash, who came to him intentionally and paid his share of the final rents, and explained that he would no longer live with Tillissa, but that Tillissa would surely find new roommates -- and doubtless new bedmates -- and would attend him shortly with their rents.
Of course, Tillissa did no such thing. When Nullfinster Roogrie came calling, two days ago, the apartment contained a fine assortment of: garbage, trash, junk, refuse, squalorinesses, discardimentia, and a long-dead blackscale eel, in leaves, in the (possibly misnamed) live-tank.
He did not know where to find any of the three of them.
Further exploration took me to the apartment of Real-Eel, as some form of mutual friend. There I found Real-Eel and Vingi. My spell of floating food behind me was wearing quite thin, and I was quite hungry; I offered to share the zabouf and Oskameeska with them.
The zabouf was well-received, but the Oskameeska was not. Vingi does not drink alcohol. He apologized about this at considerable length -- longer than a wing of zabouf. Despite the Yistreian reputation as endless devourers of overspiced mice and endless quaffers of overspiced liquor, Vingi eats moderately (though he does love hot spices -- Real-Eel grinned somehow at that) and has never touched liquor in his life.
Real-Eel had no great idea what had become of Spirshash or Tillissa. Oostmarine had been spotted here and there; it is thought that he is spending his nights on the couches of his more charitable friends.
"Or, surely, in the beds of his more lecherous friends," I added.
"It could be so. Though the charitable friends in question are Tallwillow, Groundsel, and ... what is their wife's name? Venom-Spikes? A Herethroy trio, fairly newly married, and rumor says they're cisaffectionate to the point of Groundsel refusing to kiss Tethezai," said Real-Eel.
"Well, and I myself have never kissed Tethezai, nor does it seem so likely any time soon -- for both our sake," I said.
"True, but she is not your patron, nor the daughter and heiress of your patron," said Real-Eel.
"I am not wholly understand or appreciate that every noble in Vheshrame is so much interested in the other species," said Vingi. "Present company outcepted!"
There was a bit of nervous giggling. Vingi added, "I am suppose that there is always allowed an exception for Zi Ri." Evidently Real-Eel has not told him everything.
I too did not tell him everything. I do not want to spoil Real-Eel's obvious happiness. Also I do not want to do anything to increase Nestrune's reputation among the Orren, for it is already too good.
So: no Spirshash, no zabouf, no clues.