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Tom Horner took the podium to a round of applause that suggested he was just as well known in Denver as everywhere else he called out quizzes. He was wearing a light-up tie tonight and a denim blazer that was covered in spray painted graffiti. He looked extremely pleased to be there.

“Welcome, welcome, welcome to the High Note’s third annual Lucky Duck Trivia Night!” He waited for the cheering to die down. “Before we get started, I have a few announcements for those of you following the circuit this season. First, mark your calendars for the Midwest Quarter Finals in Chicago, coming up next week. After that we’ll be making a stop in Columbus, Ohio, which I’m told has an enthusiastic trivia community and excellent pie.” He paused for effect. “And for those of you with your eyes on the biggest prize of all, bragging rights plus the most generous cash prize of the year, the Halloween Eve Finals in Boston are shaping up to be the most competitive we’ve seen in years. This is a special pop-up event at a trendy new pub, location TBD.” He pointed at the room with both fingers. “You heard it here first.”

Tempest doodled the word “Boston” absent-mindedly on her coaster.

“Now then.” Tom Horner cracked his knuckles. “Let’s find out who came here to play and who came to win.”

There were sixteen teams to start. Nell and Asha played as the Hell’s Belles. Tempest and Zara registered as Trivia in a Teacup again. Zara had embellished the entry card with elaborate lettering and a small wreath of illustrated leaves.

The early rounds moved quickly. Tempest found her rhythm without much difficulty. The answers arrived easily, the same way they always did. But something was different now. The answers no longer arrived alone. They came with friends. Subtext, context and opinion accompanied the answers. Along with the answers she could recall the residue of arguments in the margins. At first this slowed her down. Finding the correct answer was like trying to hear a single instrument in a full orchestra. She could find it. It just took more time than it used to.

In the third round, Tom Horner read out a question about the migration patterns of Arctic terns and Tempest felt the answer arrive bundled with the distinct impression of a very opinionated ornithologist who had strong feelings about the methodology of a rival’s research. She sat with her pen hovering while she separated what she knew from what he knew, and what he thought, and what he thought about what his rival thought.

Zara watched this process with interest. “You’ve gone away somewhere, haven’t you?” she observed.

“I’m back now,” Tempest said, and wrote down the answer. The answer was correct and after this she got back on pace.

Vance had been grandstanding all night. Between rounds he’d been working the crowd, shaking hands and accepting congratulations for wins he hadn’t yet secured. He kept looking her way. Tempest kept her eyes on her own answer card and tried to ignore him.

The final question of the night had the entire room collectively holding their breath.

“In Greek mythology,” Tom Horner read, enunciating, “the River Lethe was said to cause forgetfulness in the souls of the dead. Name its lesser-known counterpart, the spring or river whose waters granted them the opposite gift. Perfect and total recall.”

The room went quiet.

Tempest reached for it and found something. A fragment. A voice from a book she couldn’t place, arguing with another about the correct transliteration. Two versions of the name arriving at once, confusing her and canceling each other out. She hesitated, pen hovering as she wrote the first few letters. Mnem…

Zara leaned forward from her seat beside her and whispered in her ear. “I know this one. Mnemosyne.”

Tempest wrote it down.

Across the room, Vance’s jaw tightened. He wrote something down too.

When Tom Horner read out the correct answer, a moment later, Vance’s expression said everything. He’d fumbled the final response and lost.

“Congrats to tonight’s big winners, Team Trivia in a Teacup!” Tom Horner presented the prize envelope to Tempest and Zara with a small ceremony and a lot of enthusiasm.

“All yours,” Zara said afterwards. She pressed the envelope into Tempest’s hands as they made their way toward the door. “I contributed almost nothing and I really don’t need the money. You can thank me with some new books.”

Tempest tried to ignore the eyes on her back as they left. Most of all, Vance Priest’s.

The night air was cool and clear after the closeness of the bar. The sky was full of stars. Tempest took a deep breath and felt better almost immediately. But she wasn’t quite ready for the night to end.

“Come hang out for a bit at my place?” She waved a hand toward her bus, inviting in the Hell’s Belles.

“We thought you’d never ask,” Nell said.

“Bubble-bubble! Toil and Trouble!” Fortune greeted each of them in turn, staring at them with one bright eye open wide. “Long time no see.”

“Dead men tell no tales.” Asha winked at the parrot, and Fortune dipped her head in solemn acknowledgement.

Nell settled in on the floor with her back against the shelves on one side as she pored over the titles on the other. Asha was in the passenger seat reading a detective novel. Zara paced back and forth, unsure what she wanted. She trailed her fingers along the spines, seemingly waiting to feel something.

“You can take whatever calls to you,” Tempest said. “Same as before.”

Zara made a sound of pure contentment.

Asha glanced at the prize envelope on the console between the seats.