Saithorthepyro
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Chapter 40 - Interruptions II
🕑 Added 2025-04-21 03:38:22 +0000 UTCAs the reverberating knocks echoed through the rooms of my shop, I bit my lip. My teeth broke skin as I restrained a scream. What now?
I looked around for my revolver, only to find it still in my hand. When had I picked it back up? I hadn’t had it when I’d taken Skall downstairs, and my tail had carried the lantern, maybe it had picked up the revolver as well?
I was in my kitchen/dining room, where the remaining tea in my pot got cold as the two cups I’d set out still waited. I was almost to that sweet, comforting touch of pillows and blankets that I yearned for. Perhaps I could drag them with me?
The second set of knocks blew away those tired musings as I made for the door, gun firmly in hand. Okay, go answer this, and depending on who it was, handle it by putting a bullet right through their kneecaps. Oh, the neighbors would complain, and it might cause problems down the line. However, I needed to deliver a message to the world, do not interrupt my sleep!
Halfway to the door, lantern swinging in front of me on my tail, I glanced down and realized one small issue. The third set of knocks happened as I was on my way up the stairs to get a robe thrown on over my nightgown.
It wasn’t quite the wrapper that Tagashin had given me, still in my dresser. I’d considered getting rid of that, but it was such fine fabric, and if it ever came to it, I could just sell it, if I needed the money. I could always sell it now, but…save it for a rainy day. Wait til I knew for sure even if I wouldn’t ever actually wear it.
I had the robe thrown on when the fourth set of knocks echoed throughout the house, a loud booming noise that made me wince. Enhancing my hearing had probably saved my life this night, waking me from my sleep when Skall had creeped across my roof. Right now it was making each pounding against my door reverberate louder and louder.
“I am coming!” I yelled, putting my robe fully on.
I bet rumours about me were already plentiful. No need to add to them by showing up in a shift on my front door step. I could stand rumours about diabolism, smuggling, and shooting people, but that was the limit.
Who was even here? I thought on the possibilities as I moved down the stairs. Versalicci had already gone, Alice was locked up downstairs. Tagashin perhaps, or maybe Melissa? Or someone from Voltar, if another murder had occurred. Night was the best time for them.
I stumbled through my store, among the display racks and shelves. Needed to check those in the morning, Malachite would have pocketed something. And my room. And my cellar. If anyone had gone through my clothes, I was going to kill him. Painfully.
Maybe Versalicci did have a point, if I was thinking that so easily, but right now I was too tired to care.
My yell seemed to forestall the fifth set of knocks as I made it to my front door, pausing just a second to check the peephole.
A slim androgynous elf with ear-length blonder hair and an easy grin was waiting at my door, head cocked to the side. Snow still drifted around outside, and they were very close to my door, trying to seek as much shelter as they could. Clad in simple grey trousers, a vest, and a brown coat. And on top of their head was a fuzzy pink top hat with white fur trim. I…I…don’t question it.
I frowned, I knew this elf from somewhere, but I couldn’t quite place it-no, no, I remembered now. Lareran’s representative among the priests who had arrived at Father Reginald’s church. So, case-related. I couldn’t tell if the headache building in my skull was from lack of sleep or just knowing I couldn’t chase this one off.
I could at least try.
I opened my door inwards, keeping the revolver out of sight for now, and their grin widened just a little. It actually seemed genuine but for me grins never meant anything good. Too often they meant something unpleasant about to happen to me. The burst of cold air from outside, both our breaths steaming in it, didn’t improve my mood.
“Miss Harrow,” they said pleasantly. “I apologize for arriving at such an unpleasant hour, but I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time?”
“No,” I said bluntly. “Not to be rude, but it’s been a very trying night with far too many uninvited guests already. I’m thankful you decided to just knock on the door instead of breaking in, er-”
They picked up on where I’d tried to go only to hit a brick wall. “Mister for right now. Harper Metrill.”
Ah. Well, that answered one question.
“Thank you. Well, Mister Metrill, as I was saying, knocking is very polite, more polite than most people in my life, so thank you. And I hate to send you home when you’ve come here all the way into the Quarter at such a late hour. However it is also…” Leaned back inside my house, taking a quick glance at the clock I’d put behind my counter, the only one in the entire shop and house. “A quarter past three in the morning. And I have not had much sleep. And what little I’ve had has not been restful. So I’d appreciate any business you have with me wait until a better hour, perhaps eight? Or ten?”
Harper considered me, the grin still on his face and I couldn’t avoid the uncomfortable feeling I was being appraised in some way, something I did not enjoy. At all. Perhaps the gun should be used.
“If I came here to tell you another murder had taken place?” He asked me, crossing his arms under his chest.
I sighed. “Then I would prepare my weary, tired carcass, put it on whatever vehicle you have available, or tread to the latest crime scene. Assuming I didn’t fall asleep first. But you aren’t here to tell me that, are you?”
“No,” he admitted, grin fading just a little. “And while it can wait, I think you’d appreciate meeting with me sooner rather than later.”
I contemplated my answer. Risk this not being important, and pay the price later? Better question, who had sent him? The Diabolism program as a whole? Gallaspie? Derrick? Timmel if they were the third member? Perhaps on their own behalf for their patron deity?
Lareran, patron goddess of thievery. I knew of her, only because she was the only other deity whose representatives ventured into the Quarter. Most of the time it had been to try and recruit people to worship her, and both Varrow and Versalicci had driven them off whenever they got near the groups I’d been in. The fact that those who had fallen into that worship tended to inevitably end up with a spike in their eye had done little to make me doubt their judgment. Lareran was in a pantheon run by Halspus, and that meant anything by her or her servants was suspect.
Same for every deity underneath. I’d never gotten a chance to talk to Gregory about any of this before our falling out, but even now? Gallaspie clearly disliked him, their doctrines did not agree, but when push came to shove, and the church of Halpsus ordered any of the others? They would fall in line.
So I drummed my fingers against the doorframe, my other hand still holding the revolver. My tail set down the lantern, and traitor that it was had moved to latch onto Mertill’s wrist.
The elf looked quizzically down to where my tail had grabbed on, and I also glared at it.
“Is that a ye-”
“Ignore it,” I said irritably. “I didn’t fix it right, and now it’s doing things like this, and needless to say it will stop soon. What are you offering?”
My tail unlatched itself and the grin returned to Mertill’s face.
“The most useful thing of all, information. Information that others in my group may not be pleased to have end up in your hands.”
I raised an eyebrow. That could be a whole host of things, and also am sign of discord besides Timmel and Gallaspie’s sniping at each other earlier.
“My house is hardly the most unobserved place,” I warned him.
“I’m aware,” he replied. “My apprentices needed something to do, and also an excuse not to be staying still in this chill. Speaking of which?”
I considered it for a few more seconds. How much time until my eyes drooped and I passed out? Had that been planned? Did Mertill somehow know I’d be low on sleep and this was some plot to take advantage of that?
Okay, perhaps I was being paranoid. He couldn’t know all of that.
“Come inside,” I said, backing away from the doorway, pocketing the revolver. He noticed, but didn’t comment as he came inside, letting me shut the door and keep at least some warm air inside.
“Nice hat,” I commented, eyes flickering to the hat. “Acquired it recently?”
“Very recently,” he remarked, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Tonight, from a gentleman who seemed quite eager to keep it.”
I snorted at the idea of Malachti being called a gentleman. “Yes, well I know the original owner and I’d suggest not playing games when she comes calling for it. She can get creative with how she takes her petty revenges. And please don’t steal anything from inside my shop.”
“I don’t just steal things at random whenever I’m in someone’s house,” Metrill said with clearly faked offense. “Lareran doesn’t believe that all things must be stolen. Only from those deemed deserving of it.”
“I will reiterate my warning then,” I said, moving to my counter. “Excuse me my paranoia, you’re the fifth guest inside my house tonight, and somehow the only one I actually let inside.”
I needed to rig every entrance. Every potential one. Something that could be removed quickly before I opened in the morning, but I needed something. I wasn’t delusional enough to think I could proof my house against everyone who was interested but….I hadn’t had much time to think of it before I’d gone to sleep, but what had Versalicci left behind in here? Taken? I’d need to do an inventory, make sure he hadn’t gone in my room…he’d already defiled my ledger too. Just pranced on in here, he could have-
“Miss Harrow?”
I started at the sound of Metrill’s voice, just a quick little movement to the side. I’d entirely forgotten about my guest.
“Sorry,” I said, trying to make my hand stop trembling as I moved behind my counter. “Countertop good? No, never mind, I’d be a terrible host, and we need tea. I can go get my table and chairs from upstairs.”
“Table and chairs?” Metrill asked, sounding a little confused. “Tea?”
“I’m hosting you, it’s only fair,” I said. One of the other guests had already had some tea, it would be rude to deny it. “I’ll have to wrestle it downstairs, and I’ll need you in sight so you aren’t stealing my wares.”
“I can get the chairs and table myself,” Metrill offered, and I scoffed.
“Yes, letting you out of sight would have the same end result. You can help, and don’t leave my sight. I can get them.”
“There isn’t really that much of a need, I’m not thirsty, and I don’t need to sit. If you need either, I’m happy to wait on either?”
I paused as I listened, nearly at the stairs. He..was right why the hells was I acting like I was hosting a tea party? I moved back to the counter, hoping like hells my embarrassment wasn’t showing. The dose to keep me active and aware was not working as well as I’d hoped.
“Sorry,” I said, trying to think of a good way to phrase an explanation and failing. “It’s been a long night.”
“It certainly looks like it has.”
Ah. Right. My face probably still looked like shite. Brilliant.
“I actually could come later,” Metrill said. “I didn’t realize things had been-”
“It's fine,” I said, waving the nicety off. “You’re already inside.”
“Still-”
“The information you have to offer,” I said, trying to change the subject. “Not to be so crass, but I’m not in the mood for wordplay, so if you could just-
Metrill hesitated just a second, then pulled a page out of his jacket, laying it on the countertop. I looked down at it, scanning it quickly. A list of names, divided into categories for twelve different deities, easily thirty different names. Five of them I recognized, Father Reginald and his apprentice, Starken, Malata, and Lelieth.
All of the confirmed diabolists in the program, and twenty five others besides them. Starken and Malata were the only ones listed for their deities, and there was only one for Zaviel strangely. Three from Tildae was a surprise, they might not be as rabid about it but the goddess of purification had no love for the Infernal. Only two from Baltaren besides Lelieth, another surprise. Only two from Lareran, and what would be the most accurate number. If I trusted Mertril. Only one for Gallock, one for Kersov. One additional one for Tarver. Five from Ixillae, not shocking with the goddess of Magic having even Diabolism counted among the magic she was a deity of. Four each from Covreth, Semiv, and Daltaren. Craftsmen and bankers, really? It was almost enough to draw me away from the fact the Watch’s deity had four as well.
My immediate reaction was this couldn’t be real. This elf who I’d never interacted with before willing to risk the wrath of the other churches to deliver this? This would need to be confirmed somehow.
“Interesting,” I commented. “This is everyone practicing Diabolism inside the program?”
“Everyone we know of,” Metrill corrected, leaning further against the counter I did not miss how one hand was idly reaching towards a display case, and my tail intercepted it.
“Compartmentalized?” I asked him.
“Yes. Not as needed since this isn’t a very active group, the most that’s going on right now is training but they were already looking at keeping the membership known only to the three heading the program. And probably some of the leadership higher up, but being your church’s representative means only knowing your church’s members. Maybe some more if other church’s request assistance from yours, although everyone treads very carefully around me.”
With good reason, given the list in my hands. Not just compartmentalization for operational reasons, I imagined some of the churches would only participate if the priests participating were hidden from all but a select few.
I drummed my fingers on the counter’s surface. “It’s a very nice document. It’s also extremely convenient, which in the businesses both of us operate in, usually means one thing.”
Bait, and Harper met my gaze steadily as I tapped the head of the list.
“I haven’t given you a reason to distrust me yet, have I?” The priest said. “And I’d hate to find out you are making assumptions based on who I am.”
I gritted my teeth. “There’s a difference between being judged for being a servant to the goddess of thieves and being descended from devils.”
Harper stopped, then nodded quickly. “Yes. Sorry, that was a terrible comment for me to make. But why distrust? What reason do you have to think I’m not being honest?”
Because there were reasons to. The senior leadership of this program had already showed an unwillingness to share the names of those involved. Now here was someone from a church you’d expect to be most rebellious, with the information we asked for. It all hung together far too well.
“Better question would be, what reason do I have to trust in you being honest?” I asked him. “Or that this isn’t part of some scheme. Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to get my attention at Father Reginald’s murder scene.”
“Yes,” Metrill admitted. “I did. Sorry about that, but it was more important that Gallaspie or Derrick pick up on that than you.”
I sighed, closing my eyes. Pawn in another scheme. Well, it wasn’t like I was being treated any differently by Metrill than most already did.
“Important that they suspect you of contacting me?” I said drily. “Now I’m going to spend the entire night wondering who you didn’t want them suspecting instead of me.”
“No one,” Metrill said. “I wanted to see what would happen, which was all three of them threatening to have me swing from a gibbet if I shared even a scrap of information. Gallaspie mostly, but the other two supported him.”
I paused, then inclined my head towards the paper on the table.
Metrill scoffed. “If Gallaspie has something he thinks can link me to a crime the Watch is willing to prosecute, I deserve to swing. He’s made the threat three times before and each time come up empty-handed for his efforts. At this rate even if he did, the Watch might just ignore him.”
“So cavalier with your life regarding that old horror,” I said. “Careful, that’s the kind of attitude that will leave you swinging.”
“Not if I know when to be cavalier and when not to be,” Metrill said. “How dull life would be if one was only the latter?”
“For some people, maybe,” I said. “So, you got the answer you wanted from that?”
“Quite,” Metrill said. “It’s so rare for them to present a unified front. I imagine being in their company has already exposed you to Gallaspie and Derrick’s disagreements. Imagine what it’s like when all three of them are in a room together?”
“You say that like you are very familiar with all three of them,” I remarked. “Makes one wonder if that third one really is Timmel or if it might be you?”
I’d gone fishing with that last remark, but the elf was too experienced. His poke face did not crack one bit.
“Timmel was your suspect for the third leader?” He said. “Interesting.”
“In my defense, the only other non-diabolist member of this program I’ve met so far is Gregory Montague,” I said. “Who was not involved until know and I believe that. So, out of the pool of two people yes I suspect you two. Unless you have another list of all the non-diabolists involved?”
“Nope!” Metrill said cheerily. “I could get one, and I might have it next time we meet. But I can see why one would suspect Timmel. They have a way of making people suspicious just by existing.”
“Pretty natural when people can’t make out any details about you,” I said. “They’ve got that, Derrick and Gallaspie demonstrated what they can do multiple times now. What did your deity give you?”
“Hardly anything I’m so open to discussing,” Metrill said. “And investiture varies depending on the deity in question. Some believe in self-sufficiency over magic tricks given to their mortal representatives.”
I grunted noncommittally. I wasn’t going to believe that. Metrill probably had at least a couple of tricks hidden away. Everyone did.
“I won’t comment on the idea of either me or Timmel being part of it, but our current leadership is split in many different ways,” Metrill said. “Derrick is coasting on an appointment made out of pity. Gallaspie is a true believer who is firmly against the program itself. The third member of leadership is enthusiastic but honestly can be more scary than Gallaspie at times.”
“And is going unnamed,” I noted. “Not helping me believe in this.”
Metrill scowled a little bit. “I know the limits of what I can push. Something that is helpful in handling this case that they know they should hand over anyway? That’s fine. And why I’m offering this, because crippling help just because knowledge might spread is foolish. Yes Intelligence will hold us all over a barrel over this. They’d do so anyway by this point, with devils on the street. The third member of the leadership? Something that isn’t likely to help and exposes someone who values their privacy almost with the same intensity they insist on allowing Diabolism to be practiced? I’m not fighting that battle.”
Fair point. While there was the possibility of this third member being involved in the murders, it was lower on the list. They shouldn’t be capable of Diabolism anyway, if I understood the Program correctly. And I could definitely get Metrill’s case about the limits of what could be shared.
“They know they should hand it over anyway, yet they don’t,” I said. “They really think they can hide this, don’t they? Or is it pressure from above? Gallaspie worried about his reputation, your third leader about their precious program being shut down?”
Metrill shook his head just a little. “On some level, yes, but looking at it that cynically ignores that genuine faith can be a good motivator. What would that entail for Derrick and Gallaspie?”
“Asking the wrong woman,” I told Metrill. “My knowledge of the pantheon was thing before I got tossed into the Quarter. It’s become thinner since then.”
“You’ve never felt the urge to fix that some?” He asked me.
“No,” I said bluntly. “Learning more about the Pantheon was not on my list of things to study.”
He seemed like he wanted to continue down that point, but decided not to, going back to our initial discussion.
“You don’t hide a conspiracy,” Metrill said. “The moment you get enough people involved, you’re getting found out sooner or later. You can delay it, you can limit the number of people who find out, but details leak eventually. You’re familiar.”
I was. Keeping the Flame entirely secret would have been impossible, so Versalicci had always aimed for obfuscation and misdirection to our means and motives. First layer, a simple street gang with more success than one might expect. Going down, a syndicate constrained entirely inside the Infernal Quarter, one that operated outside, one that had contacts with the outside, one that had bribed low-ranking officials. A dozen different Black Flames to hide the more important officials we’d corrupted and the devil-summoning, the two details that couldn’t be known by anyone investigating us.
A miracle we’d kept it up for so long. A miracle I suspected might have had some outside help, but that was not for discussion.
“So they’ve tried to go for completely hiding it instead of obfuscating,” I said. “Any hint is too much for them?”
“Considering what’s at stake for them?” Metrill replied. “You know two out of three of these churches are charged with safeguarding what they see as darknesses lurking and preying on people. We can definitely disagree with them on the definitions of those darknesses and how they handle them, but they see it as a holy charge from their deities to prevent these things. Imagine you aren’t Malvia Harrow.”
“Easily,” I said. “Which mask do you want?”
Metrill seemed shocked for just a second before it vanished. “Are any of them not an Infernal?”
“No,” I admitted. I’d taken on non-Infernal disguises, of course, but none of them had ever been for more than a single job. I just didn’t feel comfortable in those skins.
“Pretend you haven’t had the misfortune of being born into a race that Halspus’ clergy hates for existing,” Metrill said. “Imagine that for you, you’ve been raised to think of Halspus as a protector, the deity who ensures the sun rises and illuminates the day, who keeps our world sealed from the Hells, whose champion rules the lands and keeps you safe, who slew the Infernal queen who took over the kingdom and made it a house of horrors. They keep watch to make sure it never happens again. That the devils never stalk the night. That you can walk the street, the countryside, at night and never worry about a creature coming down from the sky, ripping your life and soul out?”
I frowned. It was all true, and I could understand intellectually the ideas behind it, but the idea of a deity watching over, protecting you? Halspus?
“I can see it, a little,” I admitted.
“Now imagine it turns out they were in concert with devil summoners,” Metrill said. “Imagine that they were allowing diabolists to practice with their explicit approval. Oh, the details and context exist, but by the time it spreads among everyone, do you think the version that’s the truth is going to be the most popular?”
My lips quirked. Based on my own experience with the newspapers, definitely not. And for the impact it would have….I maybe could understand. When you put your faith in someone who you thought cared, would try to make things better, only to be betrayed. Twice.
“Many see Halspus’ church as a protector,” Metrill continued.
“And you?” I asked Metrill.
The elf was quiet for a moment. “I lived here when Her Infernal Majesty took the throne. It didn’t start badly early on. I think she genuinely wanted to be a good queen when she started. Didn’t matter when we reached towards the end. When devils roamed the streets and any sign of dissent meant being eaten on the street. When her version of the Watch made the current version look like paladins of old. Honestl,y Her Majesty should have taken a bit more fire and sword to that organization when she reformed it. When those deemed disfavored would be brought to the palace, and have their throats slit and their blood drained into summoning pools, their souls caught and sent to eternal damnation to let more devils through. I made it through, somehow. Most people I know didn’t. People look to so many deities with suspicion about sympathizing with the Hells, which is the world’s cruelest joke when they tried to rip us out root and stem.”
“Ah,” I said, and tried to think of anything else to add to that. I couldn’t.
“That hardly means what came after is good,” Metrill said. “Some people have let scars grow deep and taken out that pain on those not involved. Having Halspus' mortal representatives claim sole responsibility for Infernals was a mistake.”
“One you’ve put how much effort into fixing?” I asked.
Mertill met my gaze steadily. “More than most. However, those of my deity's followers who got inside and found any traction met what were very painful ends.”
Silence followed that, as I flushed a little. I’d not been the one to wield a knife, but even if I never had, it did take the wind from my sails. Arguing that they hadn’t tried hard enough didn’t make sense when their last attempt had been met with death.
My eyes fluttered, and I drove a nail into my palm, letting the pain pull me from the brink of sleep. Had Mertill’s eyes flickered down to see it? I couldn’t tell.
“Another question,” I said. “Why me? You could have taken this to Voltar. Or the Watch. I imagine there’s some animosity there, but not as much as well..”
I’d never done it myself, but I knew what Golvar had arranged for any followers of Lareran he saw as intruding on ‘our’ territory. I didn’t know what the Watch did to caught non-Infernal thieves, but I doubted it was death, and I doubted it was anything as painful as Golvar’s idea of ‘justice’.
“You know much about my goddess?” Metrill asked me, and I shook my head even as my eyelids began to droop.
Urrgh, the dose was beginning to wear off, which meant pretty soon I’d be sleeping. And taking another dose would mean twice the payment further down the line. When I crashed off this dose, it would mean no waking for six hours even if the house next door blew up. Two doses would mean twice that, minimum.
“No,” I said. “And I might not have time to discuss theology tonight. Sorry.”
“No offense taken,” he said. “I’ve already taken enough of your time, and I think I’m familiar with what you’ve taken. I should leave you enough time to get into bed. Later today, once you’ve woken up, then?”
“Time permitting,” I answered. “Things are chaotic for right now. I’ll probably have to close my store again tomorrow.”
I'd better get a good consultant’s fee from Voltar for this. Or something from Imperial Intelligence. Maybe I could just beg some wealth off of Derrick, she had tons that she wasn’t going to be sticking around long enough to spend. And I had saved her life. That had to count for something.
“I’ll try to come when it’s more convenient,” Metrill said. “On your terms, of course.”
“You know, being a thief who knocks first just makes me more suspicious, not less,” I told them. “If you do need to break in just….stay out of my home please. Shop is yours. Just want people to not come into my room.”
Mertill nodded. “Of course.”
I showed the elf out, shutting the door behind them. My flesh ached. My bones felt nothing but tiredness. I should go to sleep. Instead, I went around, making sure everything was secure as best I could. There’d be no waking for the next six hours, and I couldn’t afford anyone else coming into my house. Tomorrow I’d rig it, make sure no one comes in. This was mine.
Eventually, I ended up back at the front door, double-checking the locks and debating rigging some incendiaries to it. Probably not. I wouldn’t be waking up if they went off, and I wasn’t fireproof. I felt light, and my fingers felt numb as I made sure the deadbolt was secure.
I didn’t remember stumbling up the stairs or making it to my bed. All I remembered was the sweet sensation of my face against the pillow as the world finally, thankfully, faded away.
Comments
UnderwhelmingBird
I def wanna believe that too, and that she's using Malvia's situation as a launchpad so she can properly use her powers. Since it's all about mischief and trickery and such, this remains within the realm of "pranks" but hints at a very sweet side of Tagashin I am not-so-secretly hoping for. A ton of Mal's stress is from not having the list she got just now. Tag can deceive *everyone* with what she's doing, so easy peasy while also being a little sweet.
UnderwhelmingBird
Elfie was probs thinking he was gonna have an actual convo...nah bro she's cooked. Like far-gone cooked. Fire hazard levels of cooked. Yet also manages to make the convo worth it for both of em, and knows when it's time to dip. He even knocked! Didn't even let himself inside when there wasn't a response! That's like top 5 most polite people so far in Infernal Investigations!!!
Lecture Filler
That Tagashin too. Idk if it s very unlikely and barely rooted in reality, my theory is that everybody with that hat is just Tagashin in disguise.
