Narrator 1: In her long and interesting life, Lark has held down a ton of different jobs. 

Narrator 3: We can’t tell you about all of them because,well, spoilers… but here: let’s rattle off a few. 

Narrator 2: Line cook, newspaper delivery girl, butcher, smuggler… Narrator 1: Bodyguard, street-sweeper, bouncer, poacher… 

Narrator 3: Locksmith, baker [but that was only briefly because she was fired a day later)… 

Narrator 2: Carpenter, mechanic, hunter, upholsterer, barge pilot… Narrator 3: Pawnbroker, dishwasher, burglar, and, oh: A FUCKING SORCERESS. [Theme music] 

Narrator 1: Surprise! Exaggerating for dramatic effect? We did it again. We’re mad with power. She’s not really a sorceress, per se. Not in the sense that she went to Hogwarts or something. She’s more of a fortune-teller, but that sounds maybe less cool. 

[The desert at night: wind, sand, distant creatures] 

Narrator 2: And it is to have their fortunes told that the twins—the identical twins Ettie & Ellie, the dancers from the Black Candle Cabaret—are here tonight. They’ve got these long black overcoats with the fur trim. Cute little shoes and stockings, standing there, huddled together, looking absolutely terrified in the darkness. In the wilderness. In the Fold. 

Narrator 1: They’re in the middle of nowhere outside of Lark’s cabin-shack. You’ve been here before, but they haven’t; this is the first time they’ve ever been here. They’re in the middle of nowhere. This little wagon has just dropped them off and is receding into the darkness of this Fold night. The two of them are maybe 50 feet from the cabin door, clinging to each other desperately, certain that there are Blindings everywhere and that they are definitely about to die.

Narrator 2: [as Ellie] “Are we supposed to go inside? 

Narrator 1:[as Ettie] “Is it time? She said we were supposed to be here at Fold… and it’s Fold!” 

Narrator 2: It’s true that Lark didn’t give them very specific instructions. She did draw a map, which, they were able to use to find her cabin. So far so good. But Fold is… er, it’s a long time. It’s like an entire night. So they’re here… and where’s Lark? 

Narrator 1: They sort of took her invitation to mean the equivalent of twilight—which, here, is that time when the Fold comes issuing across the land. It did that. That was about 15 minutes ago. It is now solidly dark and foggy around them and the cabin is dark and empty. [As Ettie:] “Maybe… maybe she just keeps her lights off so that 

Blindings don’t see her? Should we… should we go… knock or something?” 

Narrator 3: They take a hesitant step forward when suddenly Ellie grabs Ettie’s arm. “Did you see that!?” 

Narrator 1:[Ettie] “There’s… something inside of her…” 

Narrator 3: [Ellie] “In the window!” 

Narrator 1: There was SOMETHING there. There was a… a shape. A dog? Some kind of strange hyena-like presence that just popped up in the window and is now gone, barely visible in this immaterial darkness. [As Ellie] “What if she’s dead? What if it’s EATEN her?” 

Narrator 3: [Ettie] “You think that’s NOT…her?” 

Narrator 1:[Ellie] “Where’s… where’s the wagon? Ettie, were gonna to die!” Well, they’re not gonna die: there’s some kind of motorcycle suddenly roaring out of the darkness. 

[A motorized vehicle roars into the area and comes to a stop.] 

Narrator 2: The sound a relief in the mysterious, ominous darkness. Narrator 1: The cycle comes skidding into the yard of the house, wheeling to a stop. Narrator 3: The two sisters turn on the spot like deer in the headlight.

Narrator 1: Lark’s apparently driving with the headlight off—probably because, well, you know: Blindings. Lark is in the driver’s saddle and oh: well, there’s a sidecar attached. And Ettie and Ellie stare. [As Ettie] “TZILA?” 

Narrator 2: [as Tzila Guthrie] “Hi!” 

Narrator 1: Lark, dismounting from her cycle, peers at the two girls through the darkness. 

Narrator 2: [as Lark] “You’re early.” 

Narrator 1: The girls clutch each other. They’re about to say ‘No, you’re LATE,” but… 

Narrator 2: Ettie feels Ellie about to point out that Lark didn’t give them any particular time, but holds her back in that intuitive unspoken language that very close twins have. 

Narrator 1: Lark grabs her saddlebags out of the cycle. Tzila clambers out a little inelegantly from the sidecar. They still don’t know why she’s here. 

Narrator 2: In any case, they’re not as afraid to speak to Tzila as they are to speak to Lark. As Lark goes ahead to unlock the front door of the cabin, they exchange hellos with Tzila. 

Narrator 1: Lark, meanwhile, is disabling the large tripwire across her front door. 

Narrator 2: SEVERAL large trip wires and various other booby-traps that we’re not at liberty to disclose to you. 

Narrator 3: [Ellie] “There was something in your house!” 

Narrator 2: Lark spares them a glance over her shoulder, but that’s all. As she opens the front door, Landlord comes loping out of the cabin, snuffling at her clothes, deciphering where she’s been. Looks at the two girls. Gives them a [carefree dog greeting sound] 

Narrator 3: …before trundling off into the shrubbery nearby, no doubt to relieve himself. We won’t pay attention to that. 

Narrator 1:[Tzila] “What are you doing here?” Tzila asks the two girls. “We could ask you the same!” Ettie says. [Clearly we’re at an impasse.)

Narrator 2: [Tzila] “Uh, Lark is watching me. My dad didn’t want me to be in the Candle, cuz… you know… the show tonight.” 

Narrator 3: [Ellie] “Oh, they’re doing the nudes.” 

Narrator 1:[Ettie] “Oh,yes, of course they are. 

Narrator 2: [Tzila] “Yeah, I don’t know what his problem is. It’s not like I haven’t seen boobs before.” 

Narrator 3: [Ellie] “Well, you’re only 10 or whatever.” 

Narrator 2: [Tzila] “I’m 12 and a half!” 

Narrator 3: [Ellie] “EXCUSE me…” 

Narrator 1: Ettie grabs Ellie, looking at Tzila. Lark has disappeared into her cabin during this time and a small porch light has come on, giving them a sense of safety out here in the yard. 

Narrator 2: …the light giving off that telltale pulsating—that ebb and flow—brighter and dimmer. 

Narrator 1:[Ettie] “Your dad asked LARK to watch YOU?” Ettie says, raising a sculpted eyebrow. 

Narrator 2: [Tzila] “Y…yeah?” 

Narrator 1:[Ettie] “Was it… her idea?” 

Narrator 2: [Tzila] “Uh… I… I don’t think so… she just… they’re friends, so…” 

Narrator 1: Tzila has no idea. This isn’t the first time that Lark has watched her. Apparently Lark and her dad have some kind of arrangement. They’ve known each other for a little. Lark just sort of lets her hang out. This is, however, the very first time that Tzila ever been to Lark’s house, and Tzila is a little ready to get away from this conversation and go inside and see what kind of place Lark lives in. 

Narrator 2: Bolstered by the girl’s courage, Ettie and Ellie follow along behind her.

[Inside Lark’s cabin: muffled wind, a nearby wood stove crackling] 

Narrator 1: Entering the cabin, Tzila is both astounded and a little disappointed. First of all, it’s tiny. It’s really VERY small; it is one room with a little ladder going up to a loft and that’s basically it. There are, like, two windows. There’s a bunch of crap everywhere. 

Narrator 2: But What crap! It’s really VERY interesting crap. There are guns. At least five guns that she can count just right off the bat immediately after entering. There are hides and pieces of cured meat hanging from the ceiling. There are dried herbs. There’s a braid of garlic. There are glass bottles—we saw those before. 

Narrator 3: A few piles of clothes. Some unclean dishes sitting in the sink. 

Narrator 1: Tiny wood stove. A series of odd instruments lying on a workbench that look like they are intended for [possibly) surgery. Possibly the dissection of the large severed Blinding head lying in one corner. 

Narrator 2: Wood shavings and sawdust litter the floor in one corner. Scraps of metal. Pieces of Bocular machinery. 

Narrator 3: Lark is sweeping the main table clear and draws three chairs up to the table. Narrator 2: [Lark] “Tzila. Go up in the loft.” 

Narrator 1: Tzila glances up the ladder. “Okay…” She says, shouldering her small backpack. She clambers up. There’s a tiny sort of… it’s not even a bedroom. It’s more of a bed platform. There’s a tiny, somewhat uncomfortable, lumpy-looking little cot. There’s… well, there’s one book! Okay, Lark reads sometimes. 

Narrator 3: [reading the book title] ‘New and Gently-Used Bocs for Sale.’ Narrator 2: Oh, it’s a catalog. For scrap parts. That’s not interesting. 

Narrator 1: Tzila hoists herself into this tiny area up in the eaves of the cabin and—dropping off her backpack—decides, well, there is a scene below with these girls settling at the table, Lark drawing up her own chair… Might as well sketch.

Narrator 2: Lark puts on a pot of tea. Lights a cone of incense. The two girls situate themselves side by side at the table, shoulder to shoulder, quite literally, and eye Lark. [As Ettie:] “We didn’t bring anything. You… you didn’t… you said we didn’t have to bring anything, right? 

Narrator 2: [Lark] “Yes.” 

Narrator 1:[Ettie] “Y—yes, we SHOULD have brought something?” Narrator 2: [Lark] “No.” 

Narrator 1:[Ettie] “Okay…” 

Narrator 2: Lark takes off her hat and hangs it on a hook behind the door. Her hair is pulled back in a messy, ropy bundle. She takes off her jacket. She’s got a sleeveless vest on underneath, and her remarkable dendritic scar is on full display, running up her left arm, one tendril reaching its way onto her cheek. 

Narrator 1: This is by far the closest that either of these girls have ever been to Lark. She has a powerful presence… not just because she seems very strong and predatory in person, but also just the weathered, lined, tree-like texture of her face: the lines at the corners of her eyes. She has seen some shit, and up this close, it is VERY clear. 

Narrator 2: She does serve them tea, but somehow manages to do it without seeming hospitable at all. 

Narrator 1:[Ellie] “Thanks,” Ellie says. 

Narrator 3: [Ettie] “Yes, thank you.” 

Narrator 1: This feels very scary. There is just one light: one single bare bulb hanging underneath the loft. Tzila is up there. They glance up and see her feet dangling over the edge of the loft platform. This is not really a homey house. This is not any house that they would want to live in. They feel ill-at-ease here. There could be anything out there… and it could be, for all they know, just beyond the glass. 

Narrator 2: Really, though, it’s all in their minds. It just comes from an unfamiliarity with the wilderness. In actuality, there’s no safer place that they could be than here in Lark’s presence. If any monsters were to come barging out of the darkness, Lark would shoot them in the face… or whatever their most vulnerable organ happened to be.

Narrator 1: Lark, settling at the table now, herself, produces a folded satchel…? 

Narrator 2: It’s a small leather pouch, well worn by the years. She rummages inside it with one hand—her scarred hand—the charcoal fingertips rustling the contents. [As Lark:] “Did you have a particular question?” She addresses both of them. 

Narrator 1:[Ettie) “Like you said, we didn’t prepare anything, so I guess, no, I mean… isn’t it just a fortune? Just the future or something? 

Narrator 2: [Ellie] “What’s ahead of us?” 

Narrator 1:[Ettie] “Just the… I guess the future? We don’t really know. We’ve been… we’ve been wondering a lot lately what we’re gonna do next after this. So, yeah, that’s… I guess that’s all.” 

Narrator 2: Lark listens. She nods… and casts the entire contents of the bag across the table, small objects skittering and clattering. 

Narrator 1: Tzila glances up from her sketching. 

[Mysterious music begins to play] 

Narrator 2: The two girls lean forward. 

Narrator 3: Their eyes dart from object to object: bones, rocks, crystals. What does it all mean? 

Narrator 2: Other objects impossible to identify. Lark observes the arrangement of objects with an impassive face. 

Narrator 1:[Ettie] “You just tell us what this is?” Ettie asks. 

Narrator 3: [Ellie] “Shh!” 

Narrator 2: Moments of silence pass. 

Narrator 1: This is very uncomfortable for Ellie, who just wants to know what’s going on.

Narrator 2: Ettie sips her tea nervously. Smoke slowly begins to fill the tiny cabin from the cone of incense, lending another layer of mystery to the atmosphere beyond the Fold. 

Narrator 1: Landlord sighs heavily from underneath at the table where he has settled. One of his dangly jowls ends up on Ellie’s foot. She recoils abruptly. 

Narrator 1:[Lark] “Two men.” 

Narrator 3: Ellie—[gasping]—hanging on every word. 

Narrator 1: —each syllable seemingly precious and loaded with meaning. This is their fortune! This is incredible! They are HOOKED. 

Narrator 2: But wait, there’s MORE! 

Narrator 1:[Ellie] “What… what do you mean, ‘two men?’” Ellie says. Narrator 2: [Lark] “Two… admirers.” 

Narrator 1:[Ellie] “Uh, admirers of US?” 

Narrator 2: Lark just fixes them with a hawk-like gaze for a moment before looking back down at the table. That’s all the confirmation they need. 

Narrator 1: Tzila is trying not to crack up. This is pretty great! She puts her sketch book aside completely and just sort of rolls over onto her side, leaning over the edge of the loft platform to watch closely. 

Narrator 2: [Lark] “One of them is… rich… and generous.” 

Narrator 1:[Ettie] “Ohh, okay! And… and the other one?” 

Narrator 2: [Lark] “The other one is great… at sex.” 

[Ettie and Ellie gasp and nearly jump out of their seats. Ellie breaks a teacup.]

Narrator 1:[Ellie] “Ohh…shhhhhit!” The sisters are both sitting suddenly very straight in their chairs. Ellie immediately asks the next natural question: “There are two of us. Does that mean that, well, we each get… one? Or does one of us get both?” None of this is funny to Lark. She does not care about this. She regards the objects on the table before her with total gravity 

Narrator 3: [Ettie] “Can we share?” Ettie asks. 

Narrator 1: Ellie shoulders her sister. 

Narrator 2: [Lark] In three to eight nights… you’ll know.” 

Narrator 1:[Ellie] “Can you explain how you know? I mean, maybe there are more details?” 

Narrator 3: [Ettie] “Can you walk us through it?” 

Narrator 2: Lark picks up the cup of tea that she’s poured for herself and takes a long sip. She points at one of the pieces of junk and indicates how it’s lying partially across another piece of junk. [As Lark:] “You see this?” 

Narrator 1:& Narrator 3: [as Ettie & Ellie] “Yes?” 

Narrator 2: [Lark] “’The Cost.’” 

Narrator 1:[Ellie] “’The Cost.’” 

Narrator 2: [Lark] “The way it leans on ‘The Burden.’” 

Narrator 3: [Ettie] [Gasps] 

Narrator 1:[Ellie] “Oh… okay. Yes?” [It is. The pieces ARE that way. Very mystical.) Narrator 2: [Lark] That usually means there will be a joining. 

Narrator 3: [Ettie] “A joining!” 

Narrator 1:[Ellie] “These… these pieces are touching. What does THAT join?

Narrator 2: [Lark] “That’s how I know there will be two. From the way they… mirror each other.” 

Narrator 3: [Ettie] “Ohhhh!” 

Narrator 1:[Ellie] “Oh, I… okay. 

Narrator 3: [Ettie] “What else does it say?” 

Narrator 2: [Lark] “Well, I can only tell you so much. The rest of it is up to you. 

Narrator 1:[Ellie] “Wait, but…” Ellie gestures to all the rest of the stones and bones and crystals and rocks and eggs. 

Narrator 2: [Lark] “You just have to LOOK. It’s up to you to figure out who they are. Just use your eyes.” 

Narrator 1:[Ellie] “Oh. Okay.” 

Narrator 2: [Lark] “It will happen soon.” 

Narrator 2: [Ellie] “Wow.” 

Narrator 3: [Ettie] “Thank you.” 

Narrator 1:[Ellie] “Can you tell us where we’re going to be living in the next… couple years? I mean…” 

Narrator 3: [Ettie] “I mean, I love the apartment, but…” 

Narrator 1:[Ellie] “I don’t know if we’ll be on Midst forever.” Tzila listens raptly. Narrator 2: [Lark] “You WILL move from the apartment but not because you want to.” 

Narrator 1:[Ettie] “Oh,” Ettie sighs, looking over at Ellie nervously. “Like, evicted or something?” 

Narrator 2: [Lark] “Something.” 

Narrator 3: [Ellie] “Ohhh…”

Narrator 2: [Lark] “Or… MARRIAGE or something.” 

Narrator 3: [Ettie] “That would be exciting, wouldn’t it? Here, I’m so sorry, this is for you,” Ettie says, pulling a tiny drawstring purse out and setting it on the table, sliding it over to Lark. 

Narrator 2: Lark nods and takes it, careful not to disturb the arrangement of the reading on the table. 

Narrator 3: [Ettie] “Thank you for your time, Lark.” 

Narrator 1: Ellie wants to know more, but Lark is irritable and terrifying. Narrator 3: And Ettie wants to get the fuck out. 

Narrator 2: Also they’re very excited and, well, they’re not gonna find two men HERE! It’s time to go back and start looking! They BELIEVE what is happening here; if Lark was just trying to scam them—to just pull the wool over their eyes—there would be theatrics. Something about Lark’s gruff, to-the-point manner just drives home how AUTHENTIC this is. They’ve had their fortunes told before from various people traveling through Stationary Hill. It was so much more showy than this. 

Narrator 1: This feels like the real deal. It’s GOTTA be the real deal. Ellie feels her heart racing. 

Narrator 2: Lark steels herself for what she’s about to say next and almost between gritted teeth says: “If you have any friends who might be interested in having their fortunes told…” 

1[Ettie] “Oh, we will! We… we—we can tell, I think, maybe Janet?” 

Narrator 2: Lark is standing up, getting the door for them. “Do you have transportation back to Stationary Hill?” 

Narrator 1:[Ellie] “Oh yes, the wagon is on its way making some drop-offs. It should be back within…” 

Narrator 3: [Ettie] “Quite soon, I’m sure. Uh… thank you—” 

Narrator 2: [Lark] “It’s not safe to walk back.”

Narrator 3: [Ettie] “Can we stay on the porch?” 

Narrator 1:[Ellie] “Just at least until the wagon comes back on its round?” Narrator 2: [Lark] “Fine.” 

Narrator 1:[Ellie] “We’ll see you, um… whenever you’re by the Cabaret next. Good night!” 

Narrator 2: Lark silently watches them pass by her, walk out the door, and linger on her porch… then closes the door on them without another word. 

[The girls sit on the porch. Distant nocturnal creatures buzz and flit in the dark.] 

Narrator 1: They turned to each other on the porch, here in this sudden quiet, desert darkness— looking at each other with wide eyes. They [gasping] crack up and grab each other, shuddering with suppressed laughter. [As Ellie:] “That was so good!” 

Narrator 3: [Ettie] “I’m so excited!” 

Narrator 1:[Ellie] “Two men?” 

Narrator 3: [Ettie] “Oh, I hope you get the good one!” 

Narrator 1: They watched the darkness together, sitting quietly, hand-in-hand, waiting for their wagon. 

[Back inside Lark’s cabin, the wood stove continues to crackle] 

Narrator 2: [Lark] “You can come down from the loft now.” 

Narrator 1: Tzila grabs her sketchbook and her knapsack and clambers back down. Narrator 2: [Lark] “You hungry?” 

Narrator 1:[Tzila] “Yeah, a little.” 

Narrator 2: Lark takes down one of the haunches of meat hanging from the ceiling and starts doing something to prepare it.

Narrator 1: Tzila settles into one of the chairs at the table, the reading set still arrayed on the surface. 

Narrator 2: [Lark] “Don’t touch that,” Lark says, a bit sharply. 

Narrator 1:[Tzila] “Oh, I won’t!” Tzila keeps her hands on her lap. 

Narrator 3: Seated here at the table now, she sees the different pieces of Lark’s divination set scattered over the surface. 

Narrator 1: Three pieces in particular seem more… significant… than the rest. 

Narrator 2: There’s a mean-looking shard of crystal at the top of the arrangement, pointing down. 

Narrator 1: Maybe a piece of mica? No, it must be quartz or something; if it were mica it would have sliced its way through the tabletop already and it will be glowing in that bright, consistent mica way… which, y’know, is often BAD NEWS in the dark fog of the Fold. 

Narrator 2: There’s also a small misshapen egg with a pebbled, knotted surface. 

Narrator 3: It has that damaged, organic look about. Not from a burn or anything, but more of an integral alteration. 

Narrator 2: It kind of grosses Tzila out. There’s something about it that looks diseased. Narrator 1: Tumorous, almost. 

Narrator 2: And arrayed prominently in the middle of the configuration is a bird skull pointing straight down. 

Narrator 1: At least… straight down toward where Lark was sitting. 

Narrator 2: Lark comes back around with a plate of jerky of some kind for Tzila. Sets a plate in front of her. [As Lark] “Here.” 

Narrator 3: [Tzila] “Hey, thanks!” Tzila takes a… enthusiastic bite of the crunchy meat. Narrator 2: It’s actually not bad.

Narrator 1: It’s been marinated or something, even. 

Narrator 2: Lark, still holding her steaming cup of tea (although she seems to have forgotten about it) is staring fixedly down at the reading on the table. 

Narrator 1: She has not seated herself again; she’s standing at the head of the tiny table. 

Narrator 2: Her eyes are darting between the pieces… purposefully. [All SFX suddenly go quiet as the narrators address the listener] 

Narrator 1: So we’re gonna let you in on a little secret. Ellie & Ettie… outside right now (they are currently actually hopping back aboard their wagon; it has come back around from its delivery rounds and is now heading back towards Stationary Hill)… their fortune? 

Narrator 2: Total sham. 

Narrator 1: Complete bullshit. Lark doesn’t read other people’s fortunes. Not really. It was all made up. The girls liked it. The girls paid her. 

Narrator 2: But she CAN tell the future. Her OWN future. 

Narrator 1: But only when she’s reading it for other people. 

Narrator 2: She’s discovered this over time through trial and error. There’s a reason she does it… other than money: important glimpses of what’s in store for her. 

Narrator 1: Tzila— 

Narrator 3: —crunching on her meat— 

Narrator 1: —detects something ever so slightly weird. Lark’s energy has just gotten a bit odd. Lark doesn’t even seem to know she’s here anymore. Her eyes [Lark’s eyes) are settled now on the bird skull… 

[An eerie rendition of Lark’s theme begins to play]

Narrator 1:[continued] …and she is glancing between it and the white shard of crystal. Back and forth. Over and over. And her expression has turned very dark indeed. There’s a long moment of quiet. The cabin is deadly silent but for Landlord’s quiet wheezing under the table. Lark is—just for a moment—NOT watching out for her. Lark is entirely in her own mind. Lark is a million miles away. [As Tzila:] “Is everything alright?” Tzila asks. 

Narrator 2: Lark blinks. [As Lark:] “Fine.” 

Narrator 3: The truth is… things are NOT fine. She’s put it off long enough… The reading is clear. And she WILL… finally… have to kill HIM. Before he kills HER.