See How They Run

"CLOSE YOUR EARS, Q! NOW!!!" Julia barked. Quentin reached deep into his pocket, rushing to plug his ears with earbuds, jamming the volume keys, so that they'd reach max. The blood that trickled from his ears made slipping them in easier than usual. Still, the volume wasn't loud enough to drown out the harmonious voices that rang in the background. "I STAY OUT TOO LATE, GOT NOTHING IN MY BRAIN, MHHM!" he screamed, singing at the top of his lungs. Eliot had warned Quentin before they'd left for the Ochre Sea to bring noise cancelling headphones. "Don't you dare bring regular earbuds, Quentin," he said. Regular earbuds won't be enough to block the Sirens' hot tunes." Of course, he hadn't heard his warnings, he'd been too preoccupied with the blonde who'd sat at the other end of the library.

Quentin watched as the Sirens sang their song, trying their best to seduce them. It was odd. Without their music, the swaying of their hips meant nothing. It was almost comical. Quentin laughed, pointing at the smallest of them. "You're an idiot," he'd seen Margo mouth, pointing at him. She'd been the one who'd volunteered to enchant the speedboat, insisting that everyone call her Captain Barbie, refusing to answer to anything else.

"Marg—I mean, Captain Barbie, um, are we almost there? I don't think Eliot-"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE FERRAGAMO SHOE SELL IS OVER!? WELL YOU SIR CAN GO FU—"

Julia, had forced a green vile of Finiweed serum down his throat before Eliot could finish his sentence, leaving him unconscious, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth onto the charmed chains that tied him down. Julia had known to bring a small dose of the serum, on the off chance that someone had thought it smart to sample the lotus water. Of course, she thought it would've been Quentin, but it held its use all the same. Eliot had brung his noise cancelling headphones like he'd instructed everyone else, but he'd also brung an empty jug specifically for collecting a gallon of the ocean water, which was rumored to have contained enchanted psychedelic properties. While true, it did provide a brief moment of elated euphoria, it also caused the consumer to sporadically relive the worst moments of their life over and over again.

In the distance, Quentin saw the coast to Fillory return to view. He waved his arms to get everyone's attention, pointing to the dock. Looking around to see no sight of the Sirens, they removed their headphones, slapped Eliot awake, and ran towards the three small shacks in the distance.

"DidyougettheOnimasks from Bulbasaur?" Eliot slurred.

"Baba Yaga," Julia corrected, "And yes, we have them. They're in Margo's knapsack."

Margo, looking in her bag for reassurance, gave them a thumbs up.

"So, um, according to Baba Yaga's map, uh, the one who can help us lives in the bricked shack, between the two made of stick and straw," Quentin said, motioning for them to follow behind him.

"Wait!" Julia called out. "How do we know that we can trust this Baba Yaga witch? She could just as easily have given us a map leading us directly into a trap."

"Well, um, you see," Quentin stammered. "According to Fillory and Further, book 3, Chapter 2, Baba Yaga was uh, the enchantress who hexed Ellsworth Downs, aka, the Magic Maker, preventing him from casting anything but game magic. But here's the thing, she's also notorious for being either a great help, or, um, a great hindrance to those seeking help, depending on...how they react to her appearance."

"Well, weren't we all polite?" Margo asked, her hands on her hips. "I didn't even stare at the green discharge that kept oozing from her lazy eye, or comment on her clothes, that were so clearly from the 12th century."

"No, I think we all held our tongues pretty well, so we should be fine," Julia affirmed.

"I DIDN'T," Eliot confessed through garbled words.