Saithorthepyro
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Chapter 35 - Can You Sleep When It Gnaws Your Gut? II
🕑 Added 2025-04-04 04:09:14 +0000 UTCThe sound of the little bell on my door jingled, then faded, and then the sound of the three of them treading through snow, softer and fainter until I couldn’t hear them at all. Occasional sounds, people moving in the distance, the whistling of the wind, all muffled by my front door as I struggled for some control over myself.
Breathe. Just focus on that, as I slowly let myself collapse against the shop floor. Ignore the emotions. Ignore the pain. Breathe in, and focus on my ribs protesting in pain. Breathe out, focus on the pain of the cast forcing my tail into an awkward angle. It was better than considering the maelstrom at the end there.
There was a difference. There was. These days I didn’t…go out trying to find people to kill for some coin and some mild profit. I didn’t kill people on a whim. Or just because someone told me to.
Then again, if Intelligence yanked the chains they had on me, would I say no? Given the right names, would I even resent it?
No, and I knew it wasn’t a case of the right names to make me willing to do it. It was a list of names that would make me unwilling, with reluctance vanishing as the stakes grew high.
My life against Tagashin’s? Voltar’s? Dawes’? Gregory’s? That..
My fingers dug into the palms of my hands, fresh pain and a trickle of blood as hardened nails punched into my skin.
If it was I’d…
Pathetic
I gasped a few times, just focused on breathing as the Imp’s contemptuous word rolled around in my head.
That is what it took to make you finally collapse? Pathetic.
“I am not collapsed,” I got out in between gasps for breath and more tears falling. Stop.
I did get to my feet, wincing as I put my right hand on a nearby shelf, and the pain that shot up my forearm. Mitlau’s work, more to be fixed as I got back up onto unsteady hooves.
I embraced the pain, eager to have something to not think about that. I never doubted what I was before, now was not the time to start. Malvia Harrow didn’t put any lives ahead of hers, and that’s the life I lived. Having doubts now because a man I’d long ago stopped following had thrown contemptuous insults at me
The answer to if I was better should be that I didn’t care, and that should be final.
You just sat there and took it, didn’t you? The Imp snarled. Refusing to fight. Fight for once, instead of letting the blindingly obvious truth stun you!
The Imp trying to claim that as the truth actually made it taste a little less true in my mouth.
“Blindingly obvious?” I got out, moving towards my counter at a slow clop. “Oh yes, that I am exactly like my brother? Am I? But let’s ignore that. What would you have me do? Start a fight, end with us all dead?”
Are you so weak you couldn’t handle all three of them?
I moved to my door, trying to blink hot tears out of my eyes, my breath steadying. I looked out at the street, the gentle fall of snow still coming down, already having erased their tracks across the snow. I pressed my face against it, more to enjoy the cold sensation of the chill glass than to get a better look.
“If you think those three were the only ones lurking around, you are a fool,” I said quietly, pulling back.
Could I have won myself against the three of them? Maybe, if I was rested, prepared, and not off-kilter. Notice I’d been broken into earlier, check around the street for anyone lurking about. Mitlau was the least objectionable of these three, so some mercy. Just a bit of rot up his spine till he collapsed, skin melting as his organs burst and he turned into a pile of spoiled muck and meat. Handle anyone else around similarly. Then go in through my back door after checking around. If it had nothing but those two, shoot Malachti in the front, shutting him up and letting him gurgle to his death as I bit into Versalicci and tore and bit again, feeling him scream as blood sprayed and I pulled bitten off chunks of flesh into my mouth, savoring the taste before-
I panted, forcing my mind out of that. Versalicci deserved death, but not that. I would never, never do that.
If you are going to hurl, The Imp snarked. At least do it after eating so I can enjoy something before you start making your body uncomfortable to inhabit?
“And if you have nothing to offer but snark, quiet,” I said. “Or we’ll see the limits of how much holy water I can drink.”
Silence, then the Imp laughed.
That hurt by words you’d risk permanent damage just to cause me pain? Well, perhaps you have more of your father and brother in your than you’d like to admit.
I didn’t even sigh, just staying quiet. Horrible as it was, having someone to lance with was helping keep my mind off this. Gave me something to focus on besides the thoughts in my head. As opposed to what Versalicci had threatened just moments before.
Okay, okay. Calm. Calm. He wasn’t going to do anything to Mother now, he couldn’t. Veiled threats were one thing, actually getting into St. Lanian’s was another. Intelligence was keeping its eye on her.
Intelligence had also been keeping its eye on me, for all the good that had done. Still, there was a difference, mostly in that attacking St. Lanian’s was a risk even for Versalicci. As much as their money-grubbing had irritated their saintly founder, it meant they had a good reputation for protecting their patients from more than just disease.
It wasn’t like Versalicci could just stroll up to Mother in her sickbed and cut her throat. And if he did…my hands clenched again as I considered exactly what I’d do then. Rot might be too kind. Acid poured down the throat sounded more fitting.
So Versalicci was..an issue. Enough of a one to try and steer the investigation his way, use it to dig him out of his underground hole? I snorted. Sure. The entire fucking army had failed to last time, I didn’t consider my odds of doing better to be very good.
Besides, if he slit my throat or made a move against me in the middle of this? Not going to be let go. Even if my ranking among Intelligence wasn’t high, killing me in the middle of something like this would get negative attention. Even if he wasn’t personally involved, a group of his Diabolists going rogue and causing chaos wouldn’t be a good look. I doubted they’d stop at one murder, and they didn’t have the same resources or finesse the other killer did. I expected their next effort to kill a target to be a lot more open and violent. We’d been lucky that their first kill had been alone in her church when they had struck.
So, Versalicci would not be able to easily make good on his thread, and going after me would carry the price of his operations being hammered on even more.
Unless Versalicci worked for Intelligence. One of a few possibilities that was becoming more and more prominent as time went on. Her Majesty had benefitted from the rising in the end.
Okay, but he’d talked of payments, so at best a temporary hire. Contractor? Maybe a relationship had been built up between now and then, but still mercenary. Add in those rogue Diabolists making a mess and I felt good about my chances. Even if their relationship had bought enough goodwill that his criminal activities weren’t being pursued, he also wasn’t making a nuisance of himself for the Imperial authorities. Not any more than any other criminal gang.
All assumptions on my part about that relationship. Ones that fit together neatly but so could other theories on what had happened. Versalicci might not even be connected to Intelligence. But even if Intelligence would fail, I had a few other cards to play. The Xangs didn’t want her to die either. At this point I didn’t care if it was familial love or something more arcane, if I let them know someone was out to kill her, they’d do their best to protect her. Explaining the details would be tricky, but I’d trick Uncle Liu across that bridge when we came to it.
As a bonus it might make the aunts abandon this fool notion of hunting Tagashin, which I’d forgotten to inform the Kitsune about earlier. Just slipped my mind, that people are out to kill my co-worker. People potentially skilled enough to do her harm, which I’d not said a word, definitely not out of any anger. I ground my teeth, deciding to set aside my own pettiness for now. Again, not worth dwelling on at all. Just needed to move forward instead.
No more thinking of my own situation though. Melissa was missing, and Versalicci had not a clue. I could understand why he might panic if Melissa was a last lifeline to the devil that had spawned all three of us. Not the most accessible of resources for my half-brother, but something that had kept him alive over the years.
Going to me was the part that made no sense. Even if he thought threatening me would work, why? Did he not have his own people to do this? Did he hope that me spending some time around Voltar had rubbed some of the detective’s deductive reasoning off on me?
He wished. Nothing had rubbed off but me getting beat up, falling down, and spending my time going into ambushes. A brilliant choice for your bloodhound brother.
He might be out of people, or more likely dealing with his own problems. I doubted all the diabolists but Daver and Melissa forcefully leaving would have no effect besides the former’s death. He hadn’t really scored a win out of the last situation either, mostly just treading water before being saved by the shapechangers being exposed. How confident were people in his leadership these days?
Had Melissa going to Tyler’s house been a panicked act by a nervous subordinate who misjudged the situation? Or a loyal follower trying to shore up support for her leader by rooting out the source of doubt in his ability?
Melissa’s disappearance was another puzzle. I wouldn’t delude myself in thinking she’d pried herself loose from my brother’s way of thinking. That work had barely begun, and it had taken me and others years to work our way out of the holes we’d dug in the Black Flame to fit inside. There’d be another reason. A kidnapping perhaps?
Or maybe she was pursuing an angle she thought would benefit Versalicci while forestalling any kind of judgment. Even at my most devoted to the cause, if I did anything without his approval, would I expect him to be happy if I came back? No. You followed instructions and orders. Some initiative was allowed depending on the situation but there’s be some kind of punishment mixed with a reward at best. He wanted discipline over everything else.
Back then, I thought it was him acting accordingly to the stakes. Secrecy was our best shield, and the best way to keep it functioning was everyone obeying and not going off doing reckless, stupid things.
It had been about control the entire time of course. Makes people less willing to disobey him. I’d gotten there eventually, fool that I was far too late, but eventually.
Enough dwelling inside of my head and thinking. No matter what else, I needed to get off this floor, get myself, then get into bed before anything else happened. Melissa, Versalicci, Voltar, the Case, everything revolving around that could wait.
I got up and immediately a spike of pain right in my lower back as my splinted tail scraped along my floors, the shrill sound the perfect match for the burning pain along my spine.
Not quite everything could wait.
I untied the bandages and twine holding the splint together, not letting the bursts of pain mess with my efforts to get these restrictive blocks of wood off. I only slowed towards the end, so I wouldn’t suddenly have my tail thump into the ground or hit anything as I moved one plank of wood off.
My tail was held together by just flesh at the moment, no reason to strain that more than necessary. I uncovered more, pulling bandages aside, wincing as I saw how they’d been stained red almost everywhere by the blood. Leaving them on left too much risk of getting part of them stuck inside my tail, but as blood began to pour I hurried.
Pain now, as I threw the rest of the wood aside and then undid the cloth. Blood, most of it having bled before as I touched my cold, lifeless limb.
I deadened the nerves leading to the tail. The drugs the Watch had pumped into me were finally wearing off, and I needed to later ask what the hells they’d given me. By all rights, I should have been in intense pain from the moment I woke up.
I winced as I let the magic explore every inch of my tail, and tried to keep clinical detachment as it informed me about the damage. The hatchet-wielder had tried to scrap along the blow after that first angled hit and had sliced a few inches down, chipping several vertebrae along its path. Somehow the main arteries had survived, clipping lesser veins along the way the Watch had bandaged and staunched the flow of blood.
I’d still gotten very lucky. If the hatchet had struck a little deeper, I could have bled out within minutes.
Not that it made the rest any better. The flesh had been split, then pulled by the mercenary’s hand in some desperate bid to cause me pain. Distract me long enough for another blow to cut something important and kill me.
They’d gotten close. Very close. If that last one had been less interested in the sadism of kicking me, had just gotten it over with? Not bothered with a last-second appeal to Halspus?
Maybe he would have killed me before one of Halspus own priests had shot him. One of life’s little ironies. Funny, when you were alive to enjoy them. And when you didn’t focus on the wreck they’d made out of one of your limbs.
The rest of my was battered, bruised, and still cut in a few places. Where that last assassin had stabbed me was a hurriedly sealed wound, still holding despite the pressures I’d put on it. Ribs were bruised, but no fractures or breaks somehow. More cuts and scrapes all along me.
Lucky lucky Malvia. If it had come to a fight I’d have torn myself open in a half dozen places. I could fix most of it up now, but it could be saved until after a good night’s rest. Half a good night’s rest? Time was slipping between my fingers as I debated this. The rest of the damage could wait. My tail needed fixing now.
My innards dulled as I got to work, making the nerves turn off just a little while, then set about the most important work.
Cutting nerves took focus, enough that it never was useful in the heat of combat but good for this, when I was hurriedly trying to repair the insides of my body? Worked wonders so I wasn’t a shrieking mess while it happened, didn’t let pain cloud my judgment. Honestly,if I could ever figure out how to do it safely, might dull parts of my brain that made me feel things too. Slice those messy emotions down for a while, just enough so I couldn’t feel more tears well up in my eyes as I looked at my limp limb. Okay, let the magic feel it out, force the bone connections together, connect the nerves, let the flesh rejoin, skin reknit. Make sure everything is done precisely, then release.
I coiled the tail and then bit my tongue as every bone burst into pain. More pain as blood flowed through veins again, muscles moved about as the tail flapped and writhed and I kept my hands tightly gripped on the desk.
Panting, I let go of the counter, furrow carved into the surface by my nails.
My tail flopped, and biting back a scream of frustration I severed connections again. Repair, sever, repair, sever, joining flesh back seamlessly but nothing fit, each attempt resulting in pain or it lying there, unmoving as I desperately tried to feel something, anything from it.
The fifth time, I was panting, on the ground, the magic flowing through my veins communicating that I’d reconnected everything. In actuality, trying to move my tail to grab the lantern next to me had resulted in it slapping the ground three times.
Okay. This was not ideal, as my tail twitched and followed the instructions lazily, swaying like a drunkard stumbling on their way home from a night trying to forget their troubles. Still, it was better than where I’d been, as it flopped and just rolled around on the floor, the feeling of rough wood scratching it as it moved. I snatched it off the ground before it got splinters embedded in it, and it hung limply in my hands.
Not ideal, I thought as I slumped down against one of the shelves, staring up at the ceiling blankly. It was better than most would suffer after a blow like that. Either amputation or a slow, painful recovery with a good chance of infection, flesh never healing right. I’d had several inches of flesh peeled back, split from the bone. I was very lucky.
Of course, I didn’t feel that. Lying here in solitude, staring at a featureless ceiling that was nothing but a blur between darkness and tears. All I felt was anger, frustration, and an intense need to sob that I was not going to indulge.
I got to my feet, blinking tears of pain out of my eyes, and headed towards the desk, carrying the lantern with me. I made it to the counter, something in my ledger catching my eye.
He’d written notes. Annotated…suggestions on my business dealings. Scrawled within the margins, pricing suggestions, supplier names, a few suggestions for additional alchemicals that might sell well. Improvements to my ‘sub-par’ recipes.
Rage was dulling to a seething, aching hate by the time I reached the bottom of the first page. Tainted. Befouled. I’d need to copy every single page he profaned to a fresh book. My tail reached around me, trying to slam into it before I grabbed the disobedient limb.
Yes, yes! The Imp yelled as my tail wrapped around my forearm, trying to still hammer the book with its tip while restraining me. Fight, fight!
“Shut up!” I hissed as my tail went limp. With a thought, it slowly pulled back behind me. The Hells had I done to it?
Had some leftover diabolism crawled in? Had I linked the nerves wrong? Some kind of curse afflicted on me? I stared at the now motionless limb, waiting for it to strike.
I needed sleep, I realized after a minute of waiting for my tail to attack me. I’d already run through a few different scenarios from the Imp seizing control to either Gregory or Alice using it to tie me up so they could carry-
Sleep. I needed sleep. In my bed, preferably, assuming I didn’t collapse on the way there. I lifted the small section of the counter designed to move, getting behind it and making for the stairs. Tired, plodding clops as I made my way up, one hand firmly on the stair railing. Soon enough I was in my room, wondering if I should even make the effort of getting dressed for bed.
Ten minutes of struggling out of blood-stained clothing, undoing bandages, and tossing aside garments that would either need patching or replacing. I could find someone to bill. Derrick? She had coin and not a lot of time left in this world. I’d saved her life, it’s the least she could do. Maybe I could get a new wardrobe out of her?
I didn’t even care if someone from Intelligence was watching as I tried to find some night clothes. I’d kill them tomorrow if they’d decided to peek and also do nothing about Versalicci.
Tagashin’s wrapper, no, a nice simple nightgown yes. I pulled it over my shoulders, letting it settle down, and then with a groan threaded my suddenly limp tail through the hole in the back for it.
Tomorrow. I’ll fix it tomorrow.
Makes you slightly better than most of your kind. You have at least one person I don’t think you’d kill if it meant you or them.
I did my best to ignore that, crawling into the bed, and blowing out the lantern.
At the end of the day, I could break. I could piece myself back together, bit by bit if needed, and break again, but as long as I could fix myself, it didn’t matter how much I broke. I’d glued Malvia Harrow back again and again. This was just a time where the paste would require a little more work than normal. Those thoughts dissolved the closer I got to bed, as I crawled into my covers, my tail itching and twitching. I tried to make it grasp the covers, only for it to flop around and I gave up, grabbing with my hands. Should I get changed?
I fell asleep before my tired mind could whisper an answer.
