Saithorthepyro
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Chapter 43 - Bearings II
🕑 Added 2025-05-05 00:35:58 +0000 UTCLike many things in life, moving a diabolically charged circle filled with hundreds of souls of innocent people was easier said than done.
I sweated, holding onto half of the massive iron circle with gloved hands, the rudimentary protection enchantments flaring from contact with it. The thing whispered now, the voices intensifying while on one side the lines and symbols still glowed a dark, angry red. The glove’s protections were holding, which saved me from another trip into the hells. I’d never touch this damned thing without protection again.
“Miss Harrow,” Voltar said from further down my stairs, voice strained. “Could you put it down again please? I need to rest.”
I sighed, then gingerly lowered the circle til it rested on the steps, tilting it against the wall. Wood crackled and shriveled as the metal touched, and I sighed again. Rot crawled about, wood shriveling and groaning at its touch. Repairs were going to eat into my funds. Assuming I could find someone willing to repair diabolically tainted wood. Maybe I could get a priest out here to bless this?
Fat chance of that. I wiped my brow, then adjusted my scarf, feeling the itchiness of the wool against those nascent gills. I used the end to wipe my brow again, sweat already building despite only being halfway down. I could feel the heat radiating from the lines and symbols, filling up the little stairway.
The enchantment lines on the gloves still pulsed a dull blue, fading now that they weren’t resisting Infernal energies. Lucky that I had these on hand. Every alchemist worth their mortar and pestle had some gloves with protections against magical energies built in, but few had three. Even if the pairs Voltar and Dawes were somewhat worn. I’d changed into the best set before bringing these down to them. The hair, maybe, could be explained as dye or a failed haircut. There was no good explanation for my nails being silver.
“Doctor Dawes!” I called up the stairs. “We might try having you help again. Mister Voltar is worn out again.”
The good doctor was up in my shop, making sure no one stole any of my goods. I’d have to figure something out once we all left.
“You’d have to widen the stairs first,” Voltar said, trying and failing to not pant for breath. “Have you considered it before now?”
“I do have the side entrance into the basement, so no,” I told Voltar.
“Yes, I noticed,” the Detective said peevishly. “I understand you not wanting people to see us lugging this around outside your home. Still, I’d consider the risk to us a bit much of a cost just for that.”
“Reputation is something that doesn’t have a cost,” I said. “It’s lost fast and gained slow, at least the kind of reputation you want to cultivate.”
“True,” Voltar admitted. “However, I think that was already ruined the moment Holmsteader’s people threw this through your front window.”
I sighed. “You’re probably right. Although I remember someone assuring me he could hold up his end of the circle.”
“Yes, well,” Voltar said, glancing over at the circle. “Some things are easier for certain people than others.”
Ah. The diabolism.
“It’s that bad?” I asked him.
“It probably wouldn't be if it wasn’t active,” Voltar said. “At least to my understanding of these things. But since it is, my arms have felt like lead since the first two steps. It is more active than I expected.”
I nodded soberly. This thing couldn’t affect things without direct contact, and even rudimentary protections like the cheap ones on the gloves worked as protection. Cheap, mass-produced ones meant to protect against accidents during the enchanting process, a sop to safety in the factories beginning to churn enscrolled metals out. For an Infernal like me, it reduced the amounts to tolerable levels. Assuming it wasn’t sneaking into the same changes my dip into the Hells had started. The gills and patches of scales did feel warmer than the rest of me, but it didn’t feel like they were progressing. I hoped not. For someone who wasn’t an Infernal, those protections might just be mitigating most of it.
“Imp, how much is this circle outputting, and is it a risk to Mr. Voltar?”
It shouldn’t be The Imp said. Unless you consider a blessing from our homelands dangerou-
“Imp!”
Baah. As long as he sees a pantheon priest, he should be fine!
“Doctor Dawes, we’re trading you out for Mr. Voltar unless he objects” I called up, and inside my head the Imp seethed.
Why did you even bother asking, accursed child?
Because I wanted to see how you answered. I didn’t even distrust the Imp on this, but I was not risking Voltar. One little bit of harm to him from me, and I could see the headsman’s axe in my future. And testing the Imp was needed. I hardly believed its claims that it hadn’t known what would happen with the Circle. The Queen of Masks’ maybe not, but me being taken to the Hells? I remained suspicious.
“Do you think Doctor Dawes can make it down here without touching the circle?” Voltar said.
“I’m telling him you said that,” I said, earning a weak chuckle from the detective.
It was a good point. The stairs really were quite narrow. Dawes had already reached the top of the stairs, and I gave him a critical eye. Yeah, that wasn’t going to work.
“We’ll have to try something else,” I said. “Mr. Voltar, if you could please go to the very bottom, go into the hall towards the end? I’ll have to roll it.”
Part of my stairs would already need repairs, as the Infernal circle made the wood creak and rot. Might as well add a little more. I waited until the detective’s footsteps trailed off around the corner down below, another five feet down, and then shoved.
The next step it touched snapped, wood rotting to brittle fragility in an instant, and the entire thing nearly plummeted straight down. I caught the edge and with effort made it roll til it hit the landing, smashing into the far wall before landing like the world’s largest ha’-penny.
Doctor Dawes followed me down, and a pale-faced, sweating Voltar came down my hallway as well. We all kept a wary eye on the circle, but nothing changed. The whispering remained at the same volume, just on the edge of hearing, where you think you could recognize words. The glowing remained steady. The wood around it slowly began to rot.
“We should destroy it,” Doctor Dawes said.
“At a bare minimum, we should find another place to hide it,” Voltar said, his color already improving. “Your basement is not only not a good space, but anyone who saw it come through-”
“I agree,” I said. “But for right now we need a place to store it until it flares up, and the room in my basement will keep the diabolism contained. Although it will mean needing to move the current occupant out.”
“Current occupant?” Voltar said. “There’s someone else in there already? Or did you re-kidnap Gregory Montague? Or Melissa?”
“Yes, no, and no, but she’s missing,” I told him. “A lot happened last night, and we can talk about it, but first, I want this thing inside a room where it’s relatively secure?”
“True,” Voltar said, the color mostly returned to his face. Apparently five feet of distance from the circle could do wonders. “Afterwards, we’ll have to bring Intelligence in for this. The Watch might not have the resources, and I don’t want the priests asking where it came from.”
“We can discuss that once it’s safely inside,” I said. “Even better, inside my store so we can watch for anyone trying to rob me.”
It took some effort, but eventually we got the circle through the door of my training room turned prison, and set down in the center where all the protections against leaking diabolism would work the best.
This, of course, got the attention of the room’s current occupant.
Voltar looked at the chained-up Alice, who glared ruefully at all of us. Her most venomous glare turned my way, and I rolled my eyes.
“Long story,” I told him. “My night was very long and very eventful. What I already showed you is only the smallest part of it.”
“Eventful indeed,” he said, eyeing Alice. “How much sleep did you get Miss Harrow?”
“Seven hours?” I guessed. “Six of those only because the alchemical I took eventually forced me to sleep.”
“Not a healthy practice,” he said reproachfully.
“Sometimes a choice between one’s health and one’s success has to be made,” I said irritably. “I’m fine.”
“Spoken with the conviction of someone who is not defending a position she will lose,” Voltar said, prodding the wrapped-up Alice with a boot tip.
She grunted irritably around the gag, then tried to roll over onto his foot. Tressed up like this, she could only wriggle by a worm, which gave me a perverse sense of satisfaction. I could make some of what she said out, and my scowl deepened.
“You also saying I should get some sleep is not a point in its favor,” I told her irritably before turning back to Voltar and Dawes. “Seriously, murders are happening, the clock is ticking, and if what I found out is true, it’s already a third of the way to the goal.”
“Lack of sleep can lead to compounding mistakes,” Dawes said, tone gentle but firm.
“And one night of restlessness doesn’t necessarily mean I’m lacking sleep,” I replied, shimmying my scarf up a little further. A lie, I’d been burning the candle at both ends for a while. But what the situation called for was action, not me sleeping. “Anyway, let’s have an actual discussion in a room without Alice in it. Oh, and by the way, Alice?”
I grabbed one of the chains binding her, dragging her to within a couple of feet of the circle.
“Be careful,” I said. “Wouldn’t do for you to accidentally touch this.”
Alice rolled her eyes. Voltar frowned just a little. I ignored both of them. I was allowed to be petty. Some. She wouldn’t actually touch it. And I’d only just started with the pettiness, as I went to the hallway, grabbing something else to make sure she didn’t try breaking free. Honestly, some of it was just precaution, not wanting her to get wounded.
Besides, I know what I really wanted was out of reach.
There wasn’t a way I could betray her that could ever hurt her. Not the same way she’d hurt me.
***
Now that the circle was safely stowed, all three of us were up in my storefront, enjoying a cup of tea.
I was indulging myself far too much, three cups so early in the day, but even if it was store-bought, the herbal tea made all my worries seem more distant with each drop. Somewhat. My stomach remained knotted, and I couldn’t quite work out that last knot of tension from within me. I might never be able to work it out of me. My hands remained firmly inside the enchanted gloves, and I hoped neither of them noticed why I wasn’t taking those off. The broken window gave a nice excuse for my scarf, hat, and full coat at least.
That remained a gaping, shattered mess, through which I could see the carriage Voltar and Dawes had taken here. The driver remained on top of it, probably cold despite his thick coat, scarf, and hat. He’d been unwilling to come inside despite my offer. From the nervous looks he gave any Infernal who got too close, I could guess why he didn’t want to leave the carriage alone outside.
The horses didn’t look very comfortable either, so best to hurry this up some before the cold affected them too much.
I’d explained most of what had occurred last night, minus the personal details and things I wanted hidden. The trip into the circle. The more private details of my talk with Alice. Most of the stuff involving Metrill, who I figured wouldn’t appreciate her identity being revealed. Some of the more personal things my brother had said.
I drained my cup, abandoning the moment of relative calm. Time for work.
“There’s been no murders yet today?” I asked them.
Voltar nodded. “It seems that our two current factions of Diabolist have decided not to strike this morning. Or at least so Derrick claims. She said all of their people were accounted for before your message arrived.”
It might be extremely petty to be upset that people weren’t dead, but damnations, the pace of the killings had only accelerated. They should be accelerating, the elements of surprise to these killings were over, they should be desperate to try and fulfill the terms of the deal before they lost that chance.
“We are still waiting on Tagashin to give a report,” Voltar noted. “If nothing else she might be able to tell us the identities of some of those priests.”
I coughed uncomfortably. I’d forgotten to warn Tagashin about my aunts.
“Has Tagashin shown up?” I said. “I forgot to give her a warning, and well I’ve already seen two people last night with that horrendous hat of hers.”
A long, uncomfortable silence before Dr. Dawes chimed in. “Maybe it’s a fashion trend she started?”
I shuddered. “No. Fluffy things are fine. Same for pink, not my favorite color, but a good one. Pink and fluffy? Not my style, but fine. A pink, fluffy top hat? Especially when the owner doesn’t wear any matching clothes? I’d rather wear that ridiculous model ship Gregory’s dressmaker wanted to put on my head than that.”
“It is a mite garish,” Voltar admitted. “Nothing compared to the styles outside of Avernon. The capital has always been rather conservative when it comes to clothing.”
I paused. “Wait. Are you telling me the way it’s described in the boo-, uh I mean that the rumours of the way people dress outside of the empire, they aren’t just sensationalist garbage?”
Being stuck in the Quarter meant not really seeing much of the outside empire, or even foreign visitors to the city, and my life at the Xang’s before then had been isolated as well. I’d assumed some of the things described in these books had clearly been lies, after all they were just fiction. Made up to excite and tantalize the reader, not to actually exist. Like the one up on my nightstand, already a third of the way devoured. The Pirates of Penzone could not be serious with the way it described its characters, all bare midriffs, only vests covering chests, and skirts and shorts that ended above the knees.
‘Sensationalist garbage’. That’s one way of describing your reading intake, the Imp noted. Although they are by far your most consistent effort at living up to your lineage.
My mind nearly blanked out at the Imp having prodded into existence a thought I did not need. Had my lov-bare tolerance for the entertainment value of certain books come from my father’s association with the sphere of lust?
No, I liked them for reasons besides that! The plot! The characters! Adventure, romance, and certainly not the saucier bits!
“Sensationalist, yes, garbage no,” Voltar said. “While my pursuit of mysteries hasn’t taken me far on the ring we live on, I’ve been far enough to say that in comparison, Avernon is very modest in its fashions.”
“I…really,” I said, trying desperately to keep my mind focused on the Infernal artifact we held and not the resurgence of a number of idle fantasies. Most of them involve a whole spectrum of very sweaty pirates in the sun, passion in their eyes as they-.
“The Aventures of Count Frisco of Battile?”
“The Pirates of Penzone, actually,” I said idly, then realized what had just come out of my mouth.
Voltar smirked I glared at him.
“Why hello, Tagashin,” I said. “I didn’t realize you started disguising yourself as Voltar again.”
“No longer Mr. Voltar, I see,” he replied. “Is it really so strange for me to make a joke?”
“Yes,” I said bluntly. “Also, you did not hear anything. At all.”
“Is a love for literature really something to be hidden, Miss Harrow?” Doctor Dawes said with amusement.
“Most people don’t really consider that literature,” I said.
“Not ‘most people’,” Voltar said. “Snobs. Of which I am happily one, I just read them to keep abreast of what those with less refined tastes choose to entertain themselves with.”
I glared at him, then said to Doctor Dawes, “Do you think if I kick him, then claim afterwards I thought it was Tagashin in disguise, people would believe me?”
“No,” Doctor Dawes said soberly. “His brother is well aware of his opinions on literature, they’ve fought over it many times before.”
“Don’t worry, Miss Harrow,” Voltar said. “I’m hardly in the habit of gossiping about people’s literally tastes. Your taste for half-naked pirates is safe with me.”
“They aren’t half-naked,” I muttered, then turned my attention to Doctor Dawes.
“I don’t see any reason why you’d need to keep it secret, but I won’t spread it,” he told me, and I nodded.
“You said Tagashin was tracking down members of the program?” I said to Voltar. “One second.”
I went to my counter, looking through my ledger. I’d tucked it in between the pages somewhere here-aha! I grabbed the list Harper Metrill had left the night before, then handed it over to Voltar.
“This is supposedly a list of church members who have become practicing diabolists,” I told Voltar. “I’ve been warned they might have missed some, and I’ve had no chance to get it at all yet.”
“Interesting,” Voltar said, scanning the page. “And who did you get this information from?”
Doctor Dawes also looked over the list, paling slightly. “So many names. And you say there are more of them?”
“Maybe,” I said, weighing my answer, adjusting my scarf a little bit as I thought. I owed Metrill nothing, but I wasn’t going to burn them for trying to help. “Compartmentalization seems to be informal. Not as much of a challenge for a source to find names, but some might have hidden themselves well enough. For the source, they weren’t too confident in the chances to avoid retribution for leaking this, so I’d prefer to keep that limited for now.”
“Not Gregory Montague,” Voltar remarked. “Far too new to this organization. Timmel was reluctant to share details of his own church, but may share information on others. Still a stretch. Michael McGillicutty?”
“I have no idea who that is,” I answered honestly. “Which one was that?”
“One of the priests of Daltaren,” Doctor Dawes answered. “We’ve had some dealings with him in the past as a client. He’s a decent man, but is a little jumpy.”
“A little,” Voltar said. “Very forgiving considering he tried to put a load of buckshot between your eyes.”
“The man did have an extremely murderous tribe of goblins after him,” Dawes said. “I’m a little more forgiving with that in mind.”
“I wouldn’t,” I said. “Means he thought you looked like a goblin. And no, it wasn’t this McGillicutty character.”
“Arnold Skoll-”
“No idea who that is either,” I said. “Stop fishing.”
Voltar simply nodded once, but that expression was trouble. I could tell he was hooked now that he knew there was a piece of information in my head he didn’t know. Still, there were better things to focus on than Voltar’s desire to know literally everything related to a case. Honestly, sometimes I thought Tagashin had more sense than him.
Not really. Still, sometimes it was closer than you might think.
“So they’ve decided to slow their pace of killing,” I mused out loud. “What have they been doing?”
“Doing what you weren’t and getting a good night’s rest?” Dr. Dawes said.
I stared blankly at him, and his friendly smile faded.
“Sorry, Miss Harrow,” he said more soberly. “But it might be the truth? These people aren’t automatons, and they must know these aren’t going to become easier. Best undertaken with a rested mind and body.”
“Not the case,” I said. “The current situation won’t last long. Their task isn’t becoming easier, it’s becoming harder as their targets become aware. And just because one of them might know about how the identities of their targets are being kept secret from most of the would-be protectors, doesn’t mean all of them know. Which is another factor adding pressure on all of them. That initial deal by the devil could have reached quite a number of underground Diabolists, and I bet next to none of them took it seriously. Oh, some might have considered it, but trying to kill twelve priests of Pantheon deities? In Avernon? Where practicing is a death sentence? Maybe some idle chit-chat among a few of them who know each other. But no one would actually take the plunge.”
“Until two groups decided to take it for them,” Voltar said. “One of which might be larger than expected, or possibly a single group working in concert.”
I nodded, tapping the four crossed-out names on the list. “Maybe. Whoever was working with Tyler might have been a third party, and potentially didn’t even have this in mind. This took too long to notice for Tyler to have been killing even one a night. This has been years in the making. Far before any deal could have been offered. Maybe even predating the program itself, which raises a nasty possibility.”
Voltar nodded, having caught on to what I suggested. “It is entirely possible this program was started to fulfill this deal. You said Vesper insinuated it was only offered recently, though?”
“Only offered recently to a wide range of people,” I said. “If a devil approached someone specifically first, or worse, they approached a devil.”
Silence as we all chewed on that. The assumption had been that this still unknown noble devil had seen an opportunity of some kind and taken advantage. Someone might have made this opportunity to get the devil to offer a deal instead.
“The purpose is to open a hellgate of some kind,” Doctor Dawes said. “Not very easy, even with this many souls behind it, what with Halspus' barrier over the empire making devil-summoning difficult. But that’s what the killing of the priests and desecrating of the churches are for, aren’t they?”
“It would be my guess,” I said. “We need to double-check on that. And so many other things. I want to bring both Vesper and Gregory in to help me examine this, bounce the theory off of. When we get time. Unless you want me to try the Bishop or the Speaker of the Dead first?”
“No,” Voltar said, frowning. “Not until we know who the third member of their group is. If anything we can use this as a carrot to tea-no, no that wouldn’t work. But still, now more than ever we need that third name.”
“If they are the one who pushed for the program’s formation, definitely,” I said. “We’ll need the names of everyone involved in this who isn’t a diabolist as well. Unless they decide to be forthcoming. But on the church desecration, Lelieth’s?”
“Not desecrated,” Dawes said. “Watch are stationed, as well as several of Baltaren’s priesthood.”
“If we can find concrete evidence of this plot being to rip a hole open to the Hells, we can probably have the army brought in,” Voltar mused. “No offense Miss Harrow, but I don’t see your word being enough.”
“None taken,” I said. “I want to bring Alberta Vesper so that she can testify to that instead. The army?”
“If it gets bad enough. There are other assets, and an army deployment might cause…worry and chaos. But Her Majesty does prefer to use the hammer.”
I did my best not to let the displeasure at that idea show. A hammer, yes. A hammer that might hurt things close by. Like, say the Quarter, considering the involvement of the Flame’s diabolists, our own close relation with Diabolism.
“Hopefully it never reaches that point,” I said quietly.
“Hopefully. Now, on the non-diabolists involved in this, we have at least one of those names,” Voltar said pointedly.
I sighed. It was a fair point. I’d already thought to myself if the list was some ploy by Mertrill.
“Harper Mertrill,” I said. “Priestess in service to Lareran.”
Dawes coughed uncomfortably, while Voltar’s expression seemed a bit too relaxed as I said that name.
“I’m guessing you both know her?”
“From a few cases,” Voltar said. “Not that well, nor has she been of any real relevance-”
“She was likely involved in a few cases we solved,” Dawes interrupted, earning an irritated glare from Voltar. “Either as the mastermind or the backer of the people who carried out the crime. We have never been able to prove it.”
Ah. For someone like Voltar that had to be galling. “Would something like this fit how she acts?” I asked.
“No,” Voltar said a mite gruffly. “She sticks to non-violent crimes, exclusively aimed at the upper class. Which does not mean she isn’t behind this.”
No. But it did make it more likely.
“I’m still not certain this is all organized,” I said. “I was the one to grab that conversation from the circle, but it’s entirely possible this wasn’t all centrally planned. For one thing, you’d think that they would have struck all at once, take out as many of the priests as possible. Them operating separately makes sense with the progression of events, especially if we assume the first one to be the most powerful. And when they struck, it drove the others into the action. The group of Black Flame Diabolists is probably the next powerful collectively if I had to guess, and they still waited to make their move, but our initial killer clearly has confidence in their ability to handle this entire list themselves. They wouldn’t have started it otherwise. And that’s going to drive the others into action the closer this gets to completion.”
“Competition over the reward?” Dawes asked. “Trying to secure a larger chunk of this ‘wish’ that was promised.”
“Partially that,” I said. “Partially fear of something else.”
“Revenge taken for not aiding in the goal,” Voltar said. “You suspect that this deal will leave the Devil in a position to punish those whom it offered the deal to, but did not aid in carrying it out?”
I hesitated. I had my suspicions, but they weren’t as concrete as they should be to voice them. I’d need more than a few suspicions and circumstantial evidence from Tyler’s sacrificial circle.
“I believe so, but I’m going to aim at figuring that out,” I said. “With as wide a circle as I can consult on it from both the divine and the diabolic. And if we can’t come to a conclusion? Well, I suppose we’ll know for certain once anyone who can summon a devil dog and conjure a bit of hellfire takes a swing.”
“Then confirming this list will take priority for us,” Voltar said to Doctor Dawes. “Coinsplitter McGillicutty should be the first one we invite over. The man owes us, and I feel confident in how little he is comfortable with any of this.”
“Coinsplitter?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. “Why does every deity have to attach the strangest names to their clergy?”
“Which is stranger?” Voltar said. “That the other deities have titles related to what they are deities of, or that Halspus’ clergy insists that they and every other cleric be addressed as if they are a close family member?”
I blinked. “Fair point. Never really thought about it that way.”
Then again, we didn’t get any non-Halspusian clergy in the Quarter regularly. Something that stood out, especially in regard to what Metrill had said last night. Not anything I needed to address quite yet.
Doctor Dawes coughed. “It seems something isn’t being discussed enough? From the disc, there has been collaboration, and running longer than just a recent decision to try and leap into this deal.”
I nodded reluctantly. “Maybe. It’s entirely possible it’s not related to the deal. A second scheme to gather power and blast a hole in the barrier. It could be something else. It could just be that whoever Tyler was meeting with was part of something else. It could be he was charging that circle over time as a precaution.”
I hadn’t said the entire truth about what had happened in there, of course. Luckily, that didn’t mean hiding that part of the trip, only what I was at the time. No one needed to know that, especially anyone with power over whether I lived or died.
That thing I’d become
“Could be,” Voltar said. “But we all know that’s very unlikely.”
Yes. What I’d lay out could be true, but didn’t hang together. You didn’t gather this much power for a rainy day instead of an actual purpose. Not when gathering that power meant exposing yourself. Sure, he’d targeted those who wouldn’t be missed. The poor. The desperate. The hungry…the oh so-hungry. But someone would have noticed eventually. Someone had noticed eventually, and had sicced me on Tyler.
What’s your game, brother? I thought. Was this all just some plan to take over Holmsteader’s territory, hoping I’d expose that one of her top people was sacrificing to the Devils? Poor plan, so I doubt it. Were you spooked by your diabolists rebelling and killing one of your top people? Set me loose as your murderous attack dog to shake things loose till an answer came out of the tree.
Probably. I played that role far too well and had done exactly that. Boom, bullet to the head.
“I never questioned it because I thought it was done for the cause. Not because you’d chop a screaming person apart for the fun of it.”
I shivered, my tail wrapping around my forearm. I did not do that. Never. Do not let him rile you, Malvia. He was a mercenary who’d sold everyone out for coin, and Tyler was a murderous diabolist who had sacrificed who knew how many people to that damn circle? More than I or even Versalicci probably suspected.
“Miss Harrow?”
I started, not realizing I’d been getting lost inside my own mind. “Sorry, I was thinking. Perhaps too much. Even if we’ve been given a reprieve, it’s not a reason to waste it pondering.”
“It doesn’t mean it’s a reason to go rushing off either,” Voltar said to me. “Running into recklessness could mean worse than injury.”
“As long as it's just an injury, it’s worth it,” I said. “If it means getting ahead of this.”
Both he and Doctor Dawes didn’t seem happy with that statement, but they also didn’t raise any objections.
“One last thing,” I said. “If Alice told me the truth last night, part of the deal is the target’s identities. It might take killer within the program theory off the table.”
Voltar frowned, shaking his head slightly. “Father Reginald and Starken were very familiar with their killer.”
“I know, but it’s worth considering,” I said.
“Did Miss Skall take the deal?” Dr. Dawes asked me.
“She claims she hasn’t, but it’s Alice,” I said bitterly. “Trusting her….if you think you can tell when she’s lying better than me, take your crack at her. If she did, good thing she’s safely secured in my basement, hrrm?”
The two traded glances at that, and I resisted the urge to wince. Okay, perhaps wiring up her restraints to several bottles of alchemist's flame strapped to the door had been overkill. And the acid. And the Instant Bee Swarm vial.
Still, better safe than sorry.
“While you try to confirm the list via the priests, I’ll go after the potential targets,” I said. “Zaviel first, since he might have the smallest number of potential targets. But first, I need to go to Glee Street.”
“Glee Street?” Voltar asked me. “You think Melissa perhaps went after the sacrificial circle?”
“She disappeared chasing after something,” I said, putting on my coat. “And regardless of Versalicci wanting it, her missing is concerning. And yes, I know he will likely have me followed. I’ll do my best to lose them, and I think Glee Street is the place he’ll be looking the least. Versalicci is probably treading cautiously around there after I’ve offended Holmsteader so much. She was already paranoid about Versalicci taking over her territory before the most recent mess.”
“And she can’t trust that you work for the Imperial government without evidence you can’t provide,” Voltar noted. “And if Miss Melissa was seen lurking around, it would be taken as further evidence of his involvement. Do you have any inkling of whether he’s trying to use the recent crisis to expand his territory?”
I paused, frowning. “I think he’s going to be busy between another lieutenant dead and all of his Diabolists except one deserting him.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time your brother used the cover of some catastrophe to do something below everyone’s notice,” Voltar said.
“Fair,” I said. “Speaking of brothers, can you lean on yours to keep a better watch on my house, maybe? I appreciate not having it broken into twice in one evening.”
“I don’t have that much pull with him,” Voltar began, and I sighed internally.
Fine. Alchemists' Fire at every window, it was after all.
“Also, Miss Harrow?”
“Yes?”
Voltar eyed my broken storefront. “I realize how tempting it might be after this, but please do not antagonize Miss Holmsteader. We really can’t afford any more distractions.”
I actually hadn’t even considered the possibility. But true, the last thing we needed is someone else crashing into this swiftly brewing mess.
I eyed my broken window, the chill air still coming in from it. I’d swept up the glass, but hadn’t had the time to do anything else. Which meant the moment I left, it would be inevitable someone would try to break inside.
“I don’t suppose I can convince one of you to watch over my store?” I asked. “I realize I just said how we should make solving this our priority, but well..”
I really couldn’t afford it. To put it mildly.
The two traded looks, then Doctor Dawes spoke up.
“I can stay a while. Edmund, if you could pass a message to the Watch to come and look over Miss Harrow’s store before you interview the Coinsplitter?”
‘Edmund’. I still could not believe that was his first name. It sounded so banal. Meanwhile, the Watch wouldn’t be ideal, but it was better than nothing. My standing among my neighbors was likely shot straight to the Hells anyway.
“Thank you, doctor, I appreciate it,” I said, inclining my head.
“Not a problem,” he replied. “Just let me fetch some books from the carriage, my pipe, a few other things. Unless you’ll allow me the favor of perusing your own collection? I promise not to lose your place in the Pirates of Penzone.”
I tried to stop a small smile but failed, a nervous little grin on my face. “Uh, no. Sorry, doctor.”
I couldn’t risk him finding the other books, which were…a little further from polite company.
With a much broader grin than mine, the doctor left, leaving me and Voltar alone.
“Miss Harrow,” Voltar said, grabbing my attention. He mimed brushing the side of his head, and I quickly copied the motion, then inwardly cursed as I felt a couple of strands of hair. I lifted them up, staring numbly at the silver threads I’d caught with my fingers.
“It’s hard to ignore the fact you’ve likely cut your hair in conjunction with that. The hairs are much too short. I also noticed you’ve been adjusting your scarf throughout our time here to make sure it covers a specific part of your neck, that you changed your gloves before bringing the other pairs to me and Dr. Dawes.”
“Really?” I said quietly, tucking the strands back up into the hat, and pulled it down til the fabric started to rip as it caught on the thicker bases of my horns. “And what do you make of that, Mister Voltar?”
Strange. I should be panicking, but instead, just peace. Resignation?
Flee, child, the Imp whispered. There is still time. Even if he hides some secret that protects him from murder, you can still run, find a new life to make your own.
Oh, hush, I thought, even if the Imp couldn’t hear that. As if I’d make it to the city limits before being caught.
Voltar still hadn’t delivered his answer, and I ignored the Imp’s further comments as I just met his gaze.
“Well, Mister Voltar?” I said quietly. “What is to be made of this?”
“Nothing until you’re ready,” he said carefully. “I don’t think it’s anything to worry about, or something I should worry about. Is it?”
I hesitated. Should I tell him? No. No, while I appreciated the offer being made to not press me on this, that didn’t mean I could trust Voltar with that.
“I don’t think it’ll be an issue,” I told him. “If it ends up not being the case, I’ll tell you further.”
“Then I see no issue in pressing you further. Ah, Doctor Dawes has returned. Well then, since you insist on helping solve the case for today, let us get to it.”
Comments
Lecture Filler
Bonding over the shared love of literature. Nice. Now we just need Tagashin to come out and reveal they inspired most of those stories
UnderwhelmingBird
Somehow I doubt Mal's ability to reasonably judge what is and is not an issue or problem. Though I suppose one can have a problem without it necessarily being/becoming an issue? I look forward to finding out.
