The horses respond smoothly to Veyk's guidance.
The rain continues to fall as the skytruck swoops up the street, drops down to nearly ground level, and turns into a walled court.
The shop on the left bears the three balls of a pawnbroker. In front of you is a dressmakers. To your right is a brightly lit shop. Through the window the party can see three slanted writing tables, each with a paper-shaded lantern behind them. The shelves lining the walls are filled with books, reams of paper, bottles of ink, and racks of pens.
The sign over the door reads
Q Mortimer Buntleby
Master Scrivener
Decorative and Commercial Copying and Bookery
A bell tinkles as the party enters the shop, drawing Q Mortimer Buntleby from a back room. He has to be Q Mortimer Buntleby: if the Host desired to create a man named Q. Mortimer Buntleby, this is the man they would have created.
He stands five and half feet tall, paunchy and balding, with multiple cleanshaven chins.
He wears small round glasses and a brilliant dressing gown and shawl worked in red, yellow, and orange paisleys.
"Bill? Thank the Host you've found them. Come in, quickly, all of you."
He hustles you inside and waves you towards the back room before drawing shutters over the windows.
The back room is clearly serving as a library and a bit more: more shelves of books around the walls, a fireplace with a kettle on the hob, reading desk piled with books, a wingchair and footstool, some other guest chairs.
Q Mortimer Buntleby almost rudely shoves people into the room, then draws a curtain across the entrance. He then hangs a bunch of garlic over the door and a small silver symbol of the Flame under the garlic.
"Please excuse the smell, but garlic is said to be an infallible protection against the restless dead, especially when paired with silver and pure faith."
He clears his throat.
"My name is Q Mortimer Buntleby, and I thank you all for your time tonight. You all know Bill Begley, of course, but...we...don't...."
Buntleby raises one plump arm shakily and points.
"What that?"
Turning, the party sees that Bill has started to rock back and forth on his heels, cradling Will's arm.
Bill starts chuckling hysterically.
"Will thought we needed a hand! Here it is! His hand! In case we needed it! Haha! Hahahaha!"
