Ynés found Otts among the game booths near the seawall. He was shooting at marks with a handheld crossbow pistol – mostly in vain. The targets were bottles mounted on a slow-moving mechanical plank. Each one was illustrated with a colorful gremlin, representing an Impediment to Reason.

Otts was so caught up in his fruitless effort, he barely noticed Ynés handing her two copper bits to the attendant. She loaded the bolts and took her position next to Otts. Within a minute, she had knocked over Superstition, toppled Prejudice, and sent Passion hurtling to the ground. The attendant walked over and presented her with a Chikapu stuffed toy for her efforts.

"I really wish you'd stop doing that," said Otts.

"Doing what?" asked Ynés, egging him on.

"You know what I mean!" he said.

"Last I checked, you were the one parading your ignorance," she said. "I'd say you were doing a fine job making a fool of yourself, without me."

Otts sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. I mean it. I don't have many friends, so it's difficult for me to see past my own point-of-view sometimes. That's not an excuse, I know."

"I understand, really," she said. "I'm not exactly a social butterfly either. It's just so fun being mean, especially when I think I'm right. It doesn't help that I'm relatively new to this whole apologizing business."

"You and me both, I guess," said Otts. "We should probably be more conscious about it, if we want to stay friends."

"Sure, let's remind each other if we're being arseholes," she said. "But how about if we both try not behaving like reprobates, in the first place. How does that sound?"

Otts held out his palm in goodwill. "So are we good now?" he asked.

Ynés put the Chikapu doll in his hand. "A peace offering," she said. "Now we're good."

"Hey, I think I know just how to cool our heads."