Clark regarded Arthur quizzically and thought for a moment before getting up and standing by the door of their room.

Having heard no sound or stray thought that could indicate danger, he motioned to Arthur to remove something and there was little doubt as to what he meant.

Arthur set out the two keys on a table and the pair watched them briefly. One more ordinary looking but quill sized and intricately crafted with an inlaid pearl, the other far stranger, as if a cursed pirate clutched it right down to his watery grave. Similar in size to the first one but with a purple, coral-like bow and a blade of obsidian that seemed to suck up the light around it.

"You said you didn't know where it was, right?" Clark asked and Arthur nodded.

"And the key you had on you when you woke up on that beach?" 

Arthur shrugged. "It was all that I woke up with except for the clothes on my back. I just felt like I shouldn't lose it, but I don't know why. I can't remember anything about it."

The pair flinched at the faint sound of a commotion outside the inn. Someone yelled, two bangs echoed. Then silence. The crowd downstairs was audible again. Arthur found himself nearly diving for the table but relaxed once things seemed to normalise.

"I could feel your mind  when you were...Looking for that key and it seemed almost like it wasn't you, you know?" Arthur shook his head.

"It seemed more like you knew exactly what you were looking for and where and what you needed to do to get it. Like a man on a mission." Clark continued. "The only time you really get like that is when you're fighting."

The cricket found himself pacing around the room. The floorboards creaked faintly under the tip-tap of his legs.

"There's another thing. I read Delia's mind earlier. It wasn't exactly clear given the circumstances but...The keys unlock something, obviously. One thing, to be exact. Delia seemed reluctant to let it happen but I find it hard to trust her feelings, even ones she'd never express directly."

"She also seemed pretty smug about knowing that there aren't any more keys left in the city, something Edgar seemingly isn't aware of yet."

Arthur tried to process the information as best as he could. Thoughts flooded his mind and the next course of action seemed unclear once again. He woke up not too long ago knowing essentially nothing and found himself knowing even less than before.

And yet as he took a sip of the blueberry tisane, as if hoping to buy himself time to formulate words, his thoughts were quickly interrupted with a yell that seemed to rattle the inn.

"CRICKET!" It was Morris.

The pair rushed downstairs, having pocketed the keys first, with just enough time to witness Gordon's unconscious body slump on the floor of the Hearth.

"Your very rude friend's been askin' about ya."