“There are three deaths. The first is when the body ceases to function. The second is when the body is consigned to the grave. The third is that moment, sometime in the future, when your name is spoken for the last time.” — David Eagleman

So here we tie up the loose end of Lectrus, last referred to here (and confirmed dead here). I wonder how many readers thought we planned to resolve his arc this way all along? We didn’t, but I like how it shook out: it’s a mere wrinkle in Jemmington’s story but a macabre end to Lectrus’s. His name isn’t spoken here, but otherwise this feels like Eagleman’s “third death” for him: this is the last time he will have his own story told. Jemmington seems unlikely to even remember the tale of the book-loving adventurer, and the goblins are only using it as a sales pitch. Lectrus might be mentioned in passing in one or two of E-Merl’s, Sundar’s, or Byron’s remembrances, but just as a footnote. Let’s tag him here, just for the sake of it.

ICYMI, the lamp glows brightly at Goblarry and Goblily’s lie that they’d be happy to pay in ralds instead of a trinket with no obvious value.  Jemmington’s description of them as “good friends” earns a smaller glow because it’s a smaller fib. He understands they’re using him, but everyone uses everyone, right?

When we first presented this lamp, we weren’t clear on whether it only illuminated lies told by those who knew better, deep down or otherwise, or if it was more like a tiny winter elf in a bulb that could tell you if anything was true, regardless of the beliefs of the speaker. When the lamp is shown again later, it’ll be clear that it’s a lie detector. So the points where it lights up will say a lot about what lies Jemmington is telling himself.

FB: It’s like if Antiques Roadshow were literally filmed in the middle of a road.