Infernal Investigations

I limped back to the ballroom where we left, considering the rotted remnants of Hawkins littered about. Gregory and others had eliminated the leftover Infernal energy so it had stopped actively decaying, instead now left scattered about. Chunks of pale white flesh oozed as it continued a more natural process of decomposition.

Dead Infernals still dotted the sea of white flesh, hardened black bits breaking it up. No one had bothered to gather them up for burial yet. Had any even survived this assault?

I’d only visited an archway, and it had been clear. That was hardly the only way in or out of the estate though, and the Watch had probably been the more merciful of the groups performing clean-up.

I doubted the Changers had planned any escape routes for them.

Lady Karsin hadn’t lied about the stench, the mixture of rotting Hawkins and charred Infernal combining for an assault on the senses that made my stomach churn. I wrapped a sleeve off one of the dead guards over my nose.

It didn’t help much, but it was enough. I didn’t feel like emptying the contents of my stomach all over the place.

There were still Watch here, around the edges of the ballroom near the various exits and the shattered windows. They all had impromptu masks on as well trying to block out the smell, and quite a few watched me as I limped towards the middle of the room.

If we were to talk, I’d prefer as little chance of people thinking I was talking to the air. Or, given what they’d witnessed, that I was talking to a devil.

They weren’t wrong, but I did not want a musket ball through my grey matter.

“Alright, Imp,” I whispered. “What do you want?”

I am owed girl, the Imp said in my head. I am owed-

“Cows, yes,” I snapped. “I am aware, Imp, and I won’t deny you deserve all of them. I’ll arrange it.”

It is appreciated, but it’s not what I refer to.

I froze. It wasn’t testing the boundaries of the contract, was it? Mouth dry, I limped forward, aiming for one of the ground-level hallways. If I started leaking Diabolism because of the Imp’s actions, I couldn’t even blame them if they took aim. Or hells, if the Imp started trying to manipulate my body, made it look like I was changing into something more Diabolic-

Stop. Moving. I am not about to try and push the boundaries of the contract.

I paused, then tried to make it look like I’d taken an interest in a nearby piece of changer flesh.

“Finally admitting you can read my thoughts?” I muttered.

I cannot. One of the more infuriating parts of the contract your brother forced on us to make you weak. I can tell when you are so blatantly obvious of what you think.

I chuckled nervously, deciding to play along for now. “Or perhaps he appreciated my privacy and didn’t want you peering through my head?”

There are ways of setting it up to allow communication and not let me sift through your every errant thought. Your brother did it to limit our ability to communicate without him knowing. It’s why I insisted on a code, but you were too slavishly devoted to him back then like you now insist on pursuing someone else to replace him in that manner.

I clopped angrily through a sea of half-rotted flesh, considering kicking some of it as that last bit sank in.

“Do not even remotely insinuate something like that ever again, Imp,” I said. “Comparing those two.”

Perhaps a step far in a direction for one, but how well do you really know the little black sheep? But that is irrelevant to what I am owed.

“Ten cows,” I said, generously adding a few extra onto it to try and appease the little devil.

Not relevant! They are what I am owed for aiding you in your lackluster performance of the craft, since everything you can do when not being directly instructed by me or copying out of a book can be summed up as rot, flame, and necrotizing yourself in an effort to keep your body put together! A cow for that, for keeping it from infesting your flesh too deeply.

I did not like the sound of that ‘too deeply’ added to the end there.

I warned you to take the Focus. And you needed it. I told you at the start they would be unworthy of trusting with your life, and they have proved it. The noble? Selling you out to the crowd outside to save his reputation. The Watch Captain? Has all but said only his professionalism is keeping him from taking revenge for his dead comrades.

“Malstein has been nothing but professional,” I said carefully low so no one in the hall could hear me mention their captain’s name. “You exaggerate Imp, and twist to make it seem like the whole world is against me.”

Am I? I would hardly be the only one. The detective you put trust in isn’t even here. Instead, a Kitsune has decided to try and make you her puppet on a string.

“That Kitsune is the farthest thing from a string-puller,” I countered. “She is a shit-stirrer more interested in prodding my buttons than anything else.”

She has admitted to practically drowning you in glamour, while the good doctor watches on and makes the barest efforts at restraining her. And who has helped you? You said you wouldn’t need Diabolism to fight the changers, that others would help? What others?

“Gregory helped,” I said. “Amna and Tommy as well. I was hardly alone.”

And did you not use the powers granted by your father’s blood? Besides, the two Watch? Who did essentially nothing? Gregory? Who left you amongst his own kind to be poked and prodded like the curiosity you are to them and him?

I scowled. “You are wrong on the latter, you hateful little thing.”

Am I? Or am I simply not projecting a fantasy on top of him like you are so dedicated to doing? Indulging in some escape from reality and choosing to ignore whatever is inconvenient to that end? Or that he is not doing the same?

“Be quiet,” I hissed and realized too later I’d ventured too close to a Watchwoman, a tall half-elf who was considering me the way one might a cloaked stranger following them at night.

“Apologies,” I said quickly. “Just thinking out loud, that was not directed at you.”

She nodded slowly, but her unease didn’t end. It's not hard to understand why a Diabolist arguing with voices in her head wasn’t much better than one snapping at you.

“The sweeping of the manor, has it turned up any more bodies?” I asked.

“Not at this time,” she said, a forced sense of calm to her tone. The kind you told when you weren’t sure what kind of response you might provoke, so you aimed to cause none at all. “The occasional body but typically hurt at the hands of well.”

Her eyes flickered to the half-roasted corpse of an Infernal near the stairs, and I nodded before wandering back toward the middle. Where Watch would be less likely to hear me, although this one’s eyes would probably be on me for the rest of my time in here.

“What do you want, Imp?” I whispered. “Provoking me over this isn’t making me more charitable to your viewpoint.”

I want you to resume your lessons in Diabolism.

I scowled. “No.”

Are you not even going to consider it? Your defeat of this creature was by a thread. And you clearly are no longer entirely opposed to it’s use.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” I replied. “And excuse me my lack of enthusiasm for not wanting to explore a method of spell-casting that risks letting the Hells in whenever I use it.”

Do you think that part of the art has never been considered? The Imp said.

“My understanding was it was always considered more of a benefit than a drawback,” I replied drily. “Letting a little more of the Hells into the material didn’t seem an issue to most I encountered.”

Because your brother is a fearful little creature who wants an excuse to put down any who get too powerful, The Imp snarled. All his plans and his schemes and yet what gnaws at him is that he never inherited the craft.

“Making a lot of assumptions I don’t see being supported too well Imp,” I said. “People don’t spread rumors about him being one who has hidden it so well for no reason. I wouldn’t be shocked if he proved capable.”

Irrelevant. He tried to shackle those who work under him.

“And you didn’t mention this at any point before because?”

What would your reaction have been to me saying that? You stopped listening to me, far before you stopped listening to him. Again, you attempt to evade the point. You clearly have lost your qualms about using it in certain instances, so be willing to let yourself be more than blunt hammer ramming into objects!

The Imp sounded….well, passionate, which it rarely did about anything besides food. And much like that conversation in the attic, it had stretched the truth some.

“I decide where the lessons cut off,” I told it. “Which means no summoning.”

The arsenal is reduced by that, but fine. We can begin tomorrow, in the evening. But I want my cows first.

“You’ll get them.”

I’d talk to Dawes about seeing some cows delivered tomorrow morning. Then take the remnants of my dress off, and take a long, warm bath and maybe some tea.

I’d need another one tomorrow, but I wanted to at least sleep feeling clean.

Speaking of leaving, Dawes had just run inside, a mixture of fury and alarm on his face. He beelined for me.

“Things outside not going well?” I asked as he stopped, panting slightly.

“They are not,” he said in between gulps of air. “Tagashin tried countering Lord Montague’s points. It did not go well.”

“Maybe should have muzzled her,” I suggested.

“If Voltar did not defend himself from the accusations of others, it would look even more suspicious than putting up a lesser defense than he normally would,” Dawes said. “Admittedly, she could maybe try to match Voltar better. It’s not going entirely poorly. That might be an exaggeration on my part, but she’s certainly not winning.”

“Do we have much time?” I asked. “I do need something of a head start if we need to flee here with an angry mob on our tails. How experienced are you at that art, Doctor?”

“Far more than I wished ten years ago,” Dawes said, his breath easing some. “Captain Malstein offered me the use of a Watch Carriage out of here if we needed one. You and I.”

“Not Voltar?”

“His opinion when asked, and I quote, was ‘There’s no saving some people from themselves’.”

“She’s getting worse at impersonating him, isn’t she? You mentioned it when I found out, but without glamour clouding my eyes, it becomes harder and harder to ignore. Have you considered letting her off the chain a little?”

“Considering how badly she acts when chained, I hesitate to consider how she would act unchained.”

“Not too badly, I’d think,” I said, getting an annoyed look from Dawes. “Not lying. I can definitely understand the anger people had over her imitating them by request of whoever she slept with, and I hardly expect she kept those photos out of wanting some memories. Still, if she hadn’t been caught in the form of Her Majesty, would this be so heinous? Let’s not joke about why Intelligence wanted to keep her on a leash.”

How many fey of that caliber came to Avernon? Maybe once a year if they were fortunate? Actually catching one would be even more unlikely. Of course, that left the only question as to why she was running around with a pair of detectives instead of doing something more substantial.

“Yes, well, with the situation we are in now, I think letting her off would end poorly for either of us,” Dawes said. “It’s almost resulted in very personal issues for me thrice in as many weeks.”

“She’s a fey,” I said. “Fey get bored; they poke at things, hoping for a reaction. She’s gone malicious because she’s surrounded by the people holding her leash. Maybe let her off a little?”

“And have you end up wanting her dead?” Dawes said. “Her needling of you led you to near-assault when you thought it was Voltar himself. Where will that end up if she’s given more slack?”

“Fair enough,” I muttered. “Probably a conversation to finish at your house. Personally, I’m looking forward to a good night’s rest.”

“A while off for me,” Doctor Dawes said. “I do need to keep her safe, as much as it might chafe me to do so, I’ll be off to try and convince Captain Malstein to help me get her out as well, assuming it’s not escalated.”

It didn’t sound like it. The yelling from outside wasn’t of the kind you heard with a mob, nor was there the sound of fighting. Just that of two very stubborn people arguing with each other.

“Maybe you should let it continue if it hasn’t,” I muttered. “Let them spend their time ramming against each other, not us.”

Dawes sighed as he looked back towards the entryway. “As tempting as that is, Tagashin is doing so disguised as my friend, and for the sake of his reputation, I should probably try to end this. Will you be taking the Watch carriage back?”

“I’ll find my own way,” I replied. “I am somewhat averse to getting into a Watch carriage, I’m afraid. I have my own experience at walking the streets at night.”

Dawes frowned. “Your leg is broken.”

“And yet I still walk. I will be fine, Doctor; how about you go keep your other charge safe? She sounds like she needs it a lot more than I do.”

The doctor considered saying something else, but eventually went out the door. Watching him go, I limped over to the servant’s exit.

It was going to be a long walk back.