Infernal Investigations

When I left the carriage, it was peering into the Arcane.

I stayed in the Arcane often back with the Black Flame. Seeing the world colored in magic had often been easier than staying only in the material.

The townhouse remained firmly cemented, statically remaining the same on the astral as it was on the material. Warded then, and almost entirely bereft of spirits. An expensive process to do over a building of this size. Had he inherited it or was Lord Montague much richer than I’d been led to believe?

Movement drew my gaze to the townhouse’s roof. It was not bereft of everything in the astral.

The dragon statue on top shifted, its head moving to peer down at me. Stoney eyes blazed bright blue, wisps of energy emanating from it as it unfurled its wings.

I stood still, waiting for an attack that never came. Likely a watching enchantment or bound spirit tied to the statue as a guard.

“Something caught your eye?” Voltar asked me.

I glanced over at the column of smoke with glowing red eyes that Voltar currently was.

I couldn’t read too much into things. Spirit association with living beings was much like the smoke Voltar was in my eyes. Too many powerful emotions and only one spirit would express at a time, meaning only one hint into current thoughts. And they appeared as abstract images that could represent any spirit and were never uniform among different people.

Spirits were solid when separated from people. Tied to them, they were fluid.

“Nothing,” I said finally. “There’s a spirit bound in the dragon for security. The rest is warded.”

“Not too shocking. Ah, Mr. Gallas, good to see you again! Could you please ask Lord Montague if he could spare a moment of his time?”

The front doors of the manor were guarded by an iron homunculi and a gargoyle till I blinked my eyes. The guard from my initial meeting with Lord Montague and another with the same inefficient body mods.

There wasn’t anything objectionable about sculpts that lowered a lifespan, but they should at least be efficient ones and not just chase a physical standard you could reach by hiring an ogre off the streets for the same job. They had the same metabolism after the modifications, so you didn’t even save on food. What a waste.

One of the two waited outside with us in a silence stretched out by my and his refusal to talk, leaving Voltar musing to himself until the second one finally came back out.

“-and of course, him being immortal may have posed an issue if not for becoming immortal not making him any less of an idiot nor any more capable of fighting, so he gets to enjoy being in Watch custody for the next five hundred years, 6 months, and two weeks. I think I might visit him again, assuming he doesn’t try to bite through the bars again.”

As it had stretched on, mutual stoney looks between me and the guard had turned to more sympathetic looks for each other, his much more than mine. After all, his exposure to Voltar would end soon.

“Now, in terms of immortal foes of mine expected to have long stays in prison, any list would be incomplete without- ah, Mr. Gallas, is Lord Montague willing to see us?”

“The Master will see you now,” the guard said in a low rumble as he opened the door. “He had to take some time to prepare your reception after being informed of the nature of your companion.”

I have no doubt what he meant by that. I should have hidden the tattoo and argued about doing so in the brief time we had before getting on the carriage, only to have Voltar insist on leaving it visible.

“I told you me coming was a mistake,” I said flatly as we entered, Gallas right behind us. A butler was there as well, who bowed and led us down the hall.

Walls of marble, the white stone broken up by paintings or extravagant pieces of furniture, some of it displaying dishes or art pieces of silver or porcelain. I eyed some of it as we passed.

This would be a king’s ransom. If you could get inside. And assuming none of this was alarmed. And a hundred other security mechanisms Montague had to employ. Otherwise, this would have already been stolen. I blinked again, peering into the astral.

No spirits floated about, which was unusual. Nobles certainly didn’t like more powerful spirits free access to their house, of course, but every inch was bare, not a single expression of anything felt or done coming into being. Even the emanations from the surrounding servants were muted and restrained.

This entire manor had been warded against everything magic.

“What do you think?” Voltar asked me as we tailed behind the butler in the main hall.

Gauging my mask? Genuinely curious? The answer would depend on the reason for the question. Likely the former, so that would be what I went with. He also clearly didn’t care about the servants around who would hear us. Frankness would be the way to go.

“The elder Montague keeps his house in order by stripping it bare of everything. Ruthless, but efficient. Probably something that you should handle now instead of later, but like my former employer, I doubt you will take my advice.”

Some servants stilled, and I could feel the guard’s tread behind us grow heavier. A hand grabbed the back of my shoulder and squeezed painfully.

“Nothing personal,” I got out as pain drove its spikes further into my arm. “He asked for my opinion. He received it.”

“Peace, I’m sure Ms. Harrow meant nothing untoward about Lord Montague,” Voltar reassured the guard. The attempted crushing of the shoulder stopped, although the guard did not look too convinced.

“I would never advise against openly attacking a noble,” I lied. “Far too public and prone to backfiring.”

The guard stared at me, face impassive, then finally let go.

I would always advise for the subtle approach over the obvious one. If it wasn’t for the warding all over the manor, Diabolism would be the perfect tool. A simple touch and a month later the Lord Montague would fight for his life against the malicious life growing inside him. The difficulty with that was always the spreading but I didn’t decide when that was justifiable and when it was not.

“Please do not openly antagonize the guards,” Voltar said to me, not even trying to whisper. “You’re not in the Black Flame anymore.”

“If you don’t want them antagonized, don’t ask how I’d deal with human nobility.”

The hall ended in a ballroom, a cluster of people waiting halfway up the stairs leading to the manor’s next level. I recognized two of them, the familiar faces of the Lord and Gregory Montague. The others I didn’t recognize, but the livery and muskets made it very clear what their role was.

“Voltar!” Lord Montague roared.

The guards leveled muskets at us as that word echoed across the walls. The butler swiftly got out of the line of fire.

“You brought a member of the Black Flame into my home? After the last one ended up being a Diabolist who nearly tore the barrier between us and the hells in twain Voltar? Have you taken leave of your senses?”

I kept my mouth shut. Words would just antagonize this one, and we couldn’t have that. Besides, no one had asked me anything directly yet.

“I have not, Lord Montague. This is Malvia Harrow, formerly of the Black Flame and the one who informed me of Katheryn Falara’s true identity.”

“And who failed to inform you she was a Diabolist?” Lord Montague asked flatly. “It’s because of that the foulhorn got away to begin with.”

“It seems a bit of a major omission to make, wouldn’t you agree?” Gregory asked me directly.

Be careful. This one had interacted with me much more than the father had in a casual environment, so he’d be the one to fool the most.

“It would be impossible for me to know,” I said in a short, clipped tone. “The gang keeps the identities of all Diabolists secret from other members to limit the danger of infiltration. Most didn’t know my skills, I certainly didn’t know Skall’s except where ours overlapped. And I agree it’s regretful she got away. By all rights, Skall should have been shot in the head years ago.”

“Assuming you are not her yourself,” Lord Montague seethed.

The muskets remained mostly pointed at me. I kept my expression blank.

“Skall is still a member of the Black Flame,” Voltar said. “Unless you want to accuse me of working with Giovanni Versalicci, I’d reconsider what you’re accusing me of, Your Lordship.”

Montague’s expression turned uncertain for a few moments, then hardened.

“Either way, this is very unusual and not something I’m tempted to stand for, Voltar. Why are you here, and why is that here?”

Slowly rotting from the inside might in fact be too good for Lord Montague, now that I thought deeper about it. Why had I not burned his eyeballs out at our first meeting again?

“Because Miss Harrow knows all Black Flame poisoning techniques and can determine which one was used to poison your son, and more importantly, I can tell you the answer to another mystery that has plagued your house, your lordship. Why have your most recent string of business acquisitions been failing?”

Lord Montague considered the both of us, then slowly gestured for the muskets to lower.

“How will you be examining my boy? Which methods would you consider most effective, foulhorn?”

“The quickest method would be to cut the boy open. Would you prefer I do that?”

Silence stretched on after that statement. Lord Montague looked like he wanted to rip my head off. Gregory looked little better. Most of the rest looked either that way or shocked.

“If she injures my son in any way, Voltar, you and she will both pay,” Lord Montague hissed.

“I can assure you she will not, your lordship,” Voltar replied.

“Just checking boundaries. Won’t harm a hair on his head.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?” Montague snapped. “Voltar, I thought I made it clear I only tolerated your involvement because Lady Karsin had already hired you. That was before that fiasco at her estate. Do you think I have any more patience for you now?”

Fair point on his part. More than fair. I didn’t believe for a second Voltar’s explanation of why we had come here. Even if you trust the boss, never actually trust them to be truthful about why you were here. It was a trait Versalicci and Voltar shared, letting no one else in on their plans.

It was going to be far too easy to slip into the same mask I wore for Versalicci as I did for Voltar.

“Still. I suppose some mysteries need answering. Gregory,” Lord Montague snapped. “Take the foulhorn to Edward. Watch her, and if she does anything untoward, yell for one of the guards to chop her head off!”

Gregory Montague nodded, coming down the stairs with a winning smile on his face. He offered his arm, gesturing to a hall.

“If you’ll allow me to escort you, Miss Harrow?”

I ignored him, silently walking down the hallway he gestured toward. He quickly caught up, walking by my side.

I went back into the astral as we walked. Gregory Montague being replaced by a giant sunflower, was….strange. I’d just reminded myself about not guessing from astral representations, and this was a pleasant reminder why.

“It seems rather unusual to have two different members of the Black Flame who specialized in alchemy so tied into things around my family so recently,” Gregory said, tone light. “It’s not exactly an easy science to learn.”

Fool Voltar. Bringing me here was a mistake no matter which way you cut at it. I considered Gregory Montague’s throat, dismissed the thought. Too many witnesses.

Go for it, said the demonic leech in my head.

“Former member,” I replied. “Black Flame trains at least three or four on every field. Makes us more disposable. Less need for Versalicci to worry about one of us getting hung.”

Not that it had helped too much towards the end there. I’d been the last Biosculptor left when I’d left, and one of three remaining alchemists. That I knew of, at least.

“Even so, you could see why I have serious questions about this, especially with you being a Biosculptor. Are you Katheryn Falara?”

Very direct. He was worried. Rattled maybe? Surprised that someone he’d shared tea with had turned out to be a diabolist capable of ripping a hole in the sky.

“Alice Skall was Katheryn Falara. Spent a lot of money and time, making sure she’d make it as far away from old life as possible. Don’t know what I could offer as evidence. I’m not either of them. I was out-of-town till recently, making the smart decision.”

“Which was?”

“Running and not coming back,” I said. “Skall was an idiot. Escape Versalicci, but not leave this city? The worst move she could make.”

There were factors behind me not leaving. But staying had probably still been a mistake.

The Younger Montague decided to back off from trying to pry my identity out of me. “Why are you here? Voltar probably could have made his way in much easier without you.”

“Yes. I don’t know his reasons, so don’t ask. I told him not to, but he insisted on doing this.”

“You work with him frequently, then?”

This was something I could tell the truth with at least.

“No. Until he showed up a few days ago, I had no contact and was happy with the world forgetting me. And then the world intruded. Is this the door?”

It was the only door with three guards in front of it, weapons at the ready.

“Yep, this is the one. Calab, you can let this one pass. I’ll keep my eye on her, come in if anything happens, father will mount her head on the wall, you know the drill.”

The lead guard, a redhead nearly as tall as I was with a scar going across her chin, rolled her eyes but did step inside, letting us both in.

A young man, gaunt in the face, sat in a bed near the door. He slept deeply, motionless except his chest moving up and down. Something half-emerged from the patient, a glaring white that forced me to shut my eyes as its incandescent blazed.

“Are you okay?”

I reluctantly let go of the astral, opening my eyes as tears streamed out. The room was surprisingly plain, only the bed and a few chairs. There was a small, unadorned table with a few plates and a teapot on top that I ignored as best I could. I’d not had time for a cup this morning.

Rather spartan for what looked like a converted bedroom. Was the outside and hall simply a display to keep up appearances?

“I had to take myself out of the astral. I didn’t realize the celestial influence would still express itself this strongly on the patient.”

It shouldn’t be. After failing to test morality, it hadn’t taken long to change into a poison, minimizing traces like what I’d just seen on the astral. Strange.

“You’ve been peering into the arcane this entire time?” Gregory asked.

“Makes things easier.”

“Makes what easier?”

I didn’t answer. There was no need; I didn’t want to get into gory details. I doubted he would appreciate a description of how it was easier to cut flesh when peering through a different plane.

I moved to the patient’s side. He was pale, approaching the color of milk, but outside that he seemed peaceful enough in his sleep. He looked similar to Gregory, heavier-set and with a rather long goatee. Those could not be coming back into style. I wouldn’t tolerate it. A quick test showed no sign of fever either. He was approaching, if not at the point where the rest of the cure would be administered.

Gregory Montague went to the table, grabbing the teapot and pouring a cup. “Do you want one? I can have two ready for single-shot-swallows.”

“I don’t like tea. Is he often left alone?” I asked, while checking Edward Montague’s pulse.

“You mean outside the two guards? Yes. The only ones allowed in here are family, and while we try to keep at least one of us in here at all times, my father has had us busy hunting down leads about the Black Flame. For example, how their public presence has suddenly gone from reminders everywhere in the Infernal Quarter to completely gone?”

“Simple answer. Go underground when a public incident draws attention. Operating procedure one oh one. Also, I doubt people were as open, or you were as successful in searching there as you think. This one has been active today, hasn’t he? No one has restrained him in the bed?”

“He was up and talking earlier today. Well, not walking, but certainly active. We gave him the sedative so he would actually rest.”

I nodded as I took a few clippings of hair. Some more exotic toxins would leave traces there as they suffused through the entire body.

“It will be like that for a few days. His energy levels might spike, but do not tire him out. Or do, but I will not be responsible for what happens.”

Gregory smiled. “Oh, I’m sure. The personality change you warned about definitely hasn’t happened yet.”

I did not roll my eyes, but the temptation to at such obvious bait was powerful. It was even worse than his stunt with the tea-wait. My hands froze as I turned to look at Gregory. His own expression sobered as he saw mine.

“Repeat that, please.”

He frowned. “The personality changes? That you, as Katheryn Falara, warned me about? Listen, I am not easily fooled, and neither is my father, no matter what you might think, so unless we both get a firm explanation of what is going on, neither you nor Voltar are getting out of here alive.”

“Stupid!”

I rushed to my feet, causing Gregory to do the same with a clatter. His hands moved in patterns, only to stop as I went to a nearby hall and rammed my head right into the wall.

“I am so fucking blind. Right in front of all of us this entire time!” I yelled. The door burst open, the guards coming through with weapons raised, but Gregory waved for them to lower them. “You want an explanation? Of all of this? I can’t give you all, but I can definitely tell you why this happened.”