Saithorthepyro
patreon
Chapter 31 - Church in Shadow II
🕑 Added 2025-03-21 12:46:14 +0000 UTCThe carriage ride was uncomfortable
The carriage itself was fine, solidly built wood, utilitarian but with some cushioning on the seat as a concession to the rear ends of whoever needed to ride it. Unfortunately, I couldn’t fit. Not with my tail sticking out nearly four feet encase in wooden planks. Instead, I held myself sideways, the tip of my tail resting on the window behind me as I half-laid near the one on the opposite side. The curtains were pulled tight so I didn’t have much to look at. The jostling of the carriage filled my ears with the sound of scraping wood and the sump of my tail with mild bursts of pain as the remaining flesh was stretched and moved about.
I didn’t dare look closely at the gap between planks yet and had asked Walston instead.
“Someone tied it back on but it doesn’t look pretty,” Walston said, and credit where it was due she kept any glee out of her voice. “Honestly I’m shocked it’s only dried blood around the edges. Quick stitch job to hold it together but you can tell from how it shifts the bones come undone. Bit hard to tell, but it looks like someone tried to peel the flesh off as well. A bit like a fish.”
“Thank you,” I said with barely restrained irritation. I had asked, after all. “This is going to be bothersome.”
Biosculpting when you couldn’t directly see what you were doing always was. Oh, I could feel flesh and bone moving under my commands, but having eyesight always helped to make sure it was right. What felt correct to the magic wasn’t necessarily perfect, and it’s why I could feel comfortable adjusting the inside of my ear and not necessarily my eyes. If I screwed up a little on the former, it could be painful but I could survive long enough to figure out what went wrong. Messing up my eyesight was a little harder to correct.
I sighed, finally admitting to myself it needed to be done looking over my shoulder.
They’d done the splint on the sides, relying on bindings between the two planks to hold it together, and it meant I could see my tail.
Whoever had done the stitch job had done their best, but flesh rejoined in an uneven line, black stitches drawn tight to join them together to the point skin stretched. Blood oozed in between, little bits joining the dried coating of it. Someone had tied a bandage tight around the worst part, but I could see it. See where that blade had come down, slicing through flesh to the bones then scraping along the side. Could feel it more and more as that dosage of drugs wore off. Every little move sent a red-hot poker of pain sliding up my spine, jamming itself further up me.
“So,” I said, tearing my gaze away and trying to distract from that. “The latest killing, any idea which of our differing groups of killers was behind it?”
“Not an Infernal,” Walston said. “Witnesses were pretty clear on that point.”
Witnesses? Right, Forcreek had mentioned that in the mad scramble out of the manor.
“How many-”
“You can ask your questions at the church,” she said irritably. “I wasn’t there when it happened, all I know is someone was there to see it. You want to fill me in on what happened there?”
“Forcreek and Derrick didn’t say anything?” I asked. Interesting.
“I didn’t get a chance to ask,” she groused. “Voltar barely let me hear more than a few words before insisting I go retrieve you.”
Ah. He cared? Touching. Or maybe he just needed me for something.
Probably the latter. It was always the latter.
I recounted the tail, stopping a few times as a particularly violent bit of road sent my tail shaking and pain until finally, we ended with me passing out. No one needed to hear about my dreams, and besides I was focused on something that had become increasingly apparent as I told the story.
“So,” I said in a pleasant tone as Walston seemed to be mulling over my description of the ambush. “About when am I going to find out why we aren’t heading to Dirgewater?”
Walston didn’t freeze or anything, instead immediately going for the thick wooden club at her side. As fast as she was, I was faster.
She froze, a wooden billy club the size of a sledgehammer head in her grasp, pulling back for a swing. My hand was pointed directly at her face, almost innocently if you had no idea what I could do.
Walston did. Her breath stilled, her mind thinking if her animal reaction to stop had been the right call or not for an agonizing second. One agonizing moment where I could just spray her down with Hellfire and the worse I’d suffer would be a hurried blow.
Now she was stuck debating between hoping I wouldn’t cast Diabolism and bringing the club down. Try and break something hard before I could cast, probably my head. Time to nip that debate in the bud.
“No need for this to end in violence,” I said pleasantly. “Although I’ll admit the reaction makes it clear your answer is not very pleasant for my health. Still, this doesn’t need to come to blows.”
Walston didn’t believe me, nose crinkled, eyes narrowed. Her club stayed frozen, but that was a case of who would be faster, me or the Captain?
“Fuck, knew I should have pulled those curtains tighter,” she said. “You been keeping track of the turns? Thought you were too drugged up for it”
“Honestly, the amount of turns we’ve taken probably was enough to addle me,” I said, not confirming one way or the other. It had been, possibly because of the painkillers but also because of the constant pain shooting up the stump of my tail into my spine. “However, Dalmoth has such a distinctive odor thanks to whatever lunatic decided to put a tannery and a cannery for fish within a block of each other. A little hell for everyone who has to live here, and very distinct from that murky scent of Dirgewater. So, what is the plan?”
The billy club moved.
“Uh uh,” I said, pointing a finger toward her face now, and she froze. “I know you have some enhanced resilience from your heritage Captain. Having an ancestor touched by an earth elemental certainly has its advantages. However if I light the interior of this carriage on fire with Hellfire, I think even that would be tested beyond its limits.”
“You’d die too,” she said, eyes focused on my unwavering hand. “I don’t care how much Hellfire is less effective against foulhorn’s, it’s effective enough you would roast.”
“Maybe,” I said casually. “A painful death, but since you’ve decided to isolate me and take me towards mystery? Painful but certain is preferable even to a quick death if it means you walk out of it.”
A lie. I could leap out of the carriage and spray the entirety of it with hellfire. Oh, it would probably snap what was left of my tail, break a limb, and she or the driver might survive long enough to finish me off. Never mind what the corruption might bring to end me. Still preferable to letting me be carted off to my death.
The wheels of the carriage continued to turn, the only sound. The city was quiet, and that itself was disturbing. Avernon angry was an old friend. Avernon quiet and cowed was new, and more unsettling than this standoff we were in.
This was a bit of a bind for both of us. Clearly, whatever Walston had planned, it probably wasn’t anything premeditated. If she’d been involved in the attack on Derrick’s carriage, she would have been on the scene immediately and easily could kill me while I lay unconscious. Derrick would have been out of it, and Forcreek might not even oppose me dying. Even if he did, Walston could handle him much easier than Malstein.
No, this was a spur-of-the-moment decision, which meant no planning, which meant no alibi, no strategy, just a sudden seizing of my weakness on her part. Hells, she has subordinates who probably were just as eager to kill me, so this had probably been cooked up the moment she saw me needing Malstein to even walk around.
Pity for her. I didn’t need to walk to be dangerous.
“What is the plan, Captain?” I asked in the same pleasant tone that made her eyes narrow till they were spite-filled pinpricks. “Drag me to some isolated place, maybe with some friends of yours, hand me a beating, and then slit my throat? Not the most original of hits, but a good one. If we ignore how you’ll be the last one anyone saw with me. I wonder if you’ve given any though on how you will explain that?”
“You are trying to bait me,” she said incredulously, eyes flickering outside to the street going by for a second. “Why are you trying to bait me?”
“Because you stopped holding any cards the moment I realized we weren’t heading to Dirgewater,” I told her. “I don’t trust easily and you don’t even make that very short list of people I’m willing to extend even a thimbleful to. So the way things are now? Either you make your move and hope I’m slow, or we get to the church and you endure some very painful times for a bit as every eye is on you for a second.”
Walston chuckled, a small thing that nearly overcame her as she considered me in disbelief. “You think anyone will believe your word against mine?”
“I think they’ll take it seriously enough you’ll undergo some scrutiny, and once it’s confirmed you have nothing to do with the diabolists, it’ll ease,” I said. “You want my head? Probably not unexpected. The people who employ me might take issue, enough that I’d suggest being careful about any future efforts on your part. Chances are though if my usefulness is on the wane, they might look the other way at you ending my life.”
She snorted, then stilled, trying to make the expression on her face drain away. “This is ridiculous. You’re giving me advice on how to kill you?”
“I’m giving you advice so you don’t try to kill me right now,” I admitted to her. “I don’t want to die, and any future attempt is going to be hurt by the fact I know now. But this attempt is a failure unless you want to die as well.”
She didn’t answer, visibly restraining herself, and I simply continued.
“You want me dead, I can deal with that,” I told her. “I think you’re doing it in a way guaranteeing you dig your own grave at the same time, but you know what, go for it. You end up killing me, I might even deserve it.”
“Not killing,” she said spitefully. “Justice.”
“Whatever word you want to hang on it. The point is, we can just go on our ways afterward, you’ve learned your lesson about giving people a chance, and I’ve learned my lesson about trusting carriage rides with Watch in it. As long as this has nothing to do with the case. Does it?”
A pause, a second turning into two, then three, then a dozen and I was about to say damn it all and let loose the fire when she slowly nodded.
“This is personal,” she said. “I’m not helping another group of murderers. You being let out on the streets is a travesty aided by people who should fucking know better. I don’t care how useful you are, you killed people in ways that are fucking profane. The fact you’re allowed to walk the streets is an insult to the idea of justice.”
“How long have you been a member of the Watch, Captain?” I asked the stoney-faced Walston. “Your rank, I think at least a decade right? Long before I ever joined the Flame. So, how many Infernals did you drag out of the Quarter to have their souls spiked? To be hung and then stuck under that cathedral for eternity because they were easy to finger as a culprit?”
Her hand curled around the club’s handle, the wood creaking as her grip tightened and her eyes never left mine. I would have cackled if I didn’t suspect it would cause a coughing fit leaving me hacking and pained and an easy target. This must look like the most moronic standoff, the oversized Watch captain of earth elemental lineage barely fitting in the carriage across from an Infernal holding herself sideways above the seats, tail in a wooden splint jutting out directly behind her.
Sighing, she let go of the club, letting it drop to her sides. I didn’t bother lowering my hand. True, flames didn’t take me aiming at her, but frankly I didn’t care. I wasn’t the one who had started this, so I didn’t need to de-escalate at all.
“Others being monsters ain’t an excuse for being one yourself,” she said, and I snorted.
Oh, that might have ruined defusing the tension a little, but like I was going to listen to a lecture from her.
“That sounds like it comes from someone who has a choice,” I told her.
Walston opened her mouth, and glancing at my still-pointing hand thought better of it. Good.
This uneasy truce continued, even after she leaned out the window and gave the driver new directions. All the way to Dirgewater.
***
Dirgewater was one of the many districts that bordered the Nover, and like so many of them was a favorite of low-lives and smugglers. Of course, Avernon was a hub of trade, but there were only so many docks you could build before even the trade of an entire empire could have too many places to dock. And as tariffs were placed on increasingly many goods, even more reasons for smaller vessels that dropped legitimate cargo in Low Harbor, the Dockyard, or Cattleport to stop by Dirgewater, the Infernal Quarter, or Velview. Or just to Garretsville and unload both into the same warehouse as long as you have a little bag of coins for the city officials inspecting the cargo.
It wasn’t quite at the level of the Quarter, but in Dirgewater you needed to keep an eye on your coin purse.
When we stopped in Dirgewater, it was long enough for me to get out of the carriage and then it sprung into actions, horses bursting into motion. The door walked my tail, sending paroxysms of pain up through my spine that left me gasping for air, unable to move as the carriage swiftly traveled out of sight.
For a second, I seriously wanted to send flames chasing after Walston anyway, but then I’d have to explain things. Considering there was a group of Watch forming a picket line just a little ways away, I didn’t see that going well.
Did I trust her on this not being case-related? Probably. If she actually was, she wouldn’t have let me out of that carriage no matter what. My word against hers, my word didn’t carry much weight but it would bring plenty of suspicion down on her head. Wasted suspicion, but more than enough to ensure she wasn’t involved.
Besides, there were more effective ways to do this, and why settle just for me? I was a bit player on the outskirts, circling the grand detective, his loyal companions, and the assortment of priests being murdered and trying to stay alive. I was a relative nobody, working for the grand players, not one of them. I would be far down on the list to be killed. For them.
For the people ahead of me, maybe not. A crowd had gathered in front of the cathedral, which I took a look at and immediately decided to just…ingore for now. Magic, clearly, and I could figure out how it worked later. For right now, dozens of people were gathered outside the cathedral, currently throwing verbal abuse at the Watch gathered outside. Tattered cloaks, most of them looked like they hadn’t washed in a while and smelled like it too.
Most of them, to my confusion, were wearing blindfolds. Mostly just torn up pieces of fragment tied around their eyes, but some looked more ornate, tailored pieces of cloth dark blue or black in color, symbols threaded on them in the same pale blue or yellow the moons usually glowed.
It didn’t affect their yelling, the gist of it was general anti-Watch sentiment and anger over access to their cathedral being closed. Sentiments I could agree with normally, if only I didn’t have to work with the them.
Sigh. And I had to get through this. No Tagashin in sight to stage a distraction. Suddenly I found myself missing that pink suit and fuzzy top hat.
A bell tolled and then the yelling stopped.
They all knelt as one towards the church as the sun touched the horizon, and there was a pulse of something from the cathedral, just a sensation in the air traveling outwards.
I paused, uncertain if I should go forward, but there was space. I quietly clopped ahead, not a reaction from the kneeling crowd as I made my way to the Watch barricade, being let through by a young woman with a knife scar down her chin.
“Baltarens,” the Watchwoman said with a shrug, as if that explained anything. “They’re waiting for you inside.”
I gave a brief nod, not willing to extend any more courtesy to who was surely one of Walston’s company, then turned my attention to the cathedral.
It was evening by now, or at least approaching it, but the sun still shines, not even touching the horizon yet.
Made it all the stranger that the surface of this cathedral was covered in shadows as if it was the dead of night.
They crawled on it practically, moving across smooth stone walls, crawling up spires that stretched up into the sky. Six of them, forming the shape of a hexagram from their positions, then a single taller one right in the middle. My eyes traveled down to the only unobscured part of the building, a part of the wall where letters glowed a pale blue.
Light is but the absence of darkness, which made me raise an eyebrow. I can’t imagine that was too popular with the clergy of the sun god, but maybe that’s why Baltaren’s cathedral was here in Dirgewater.
Still, it was hard to call that a boast when the church stretched easily a hundred feet over every other building for a mile around yet not an inch of it was illuminated by the sun. It hurt a little to look at, the sun shining brightly only to suddenly be cut off by this towering monstrosity. How had I never seen this before? I’d been to Dirgewater, yet as I imagined the skyline when I came here, something in my mind slid off where this hulking monstrosity had been.
The door was open, forty feet high and looked like it was carved out of obsidian. Slightly shaking my head, I made for the gap between the doors. Time to see what waited within.
