Infernal Investigations

I shivered as I walked down the empty street.

My clothes had a few new holes in them courtesy of the Pure-blood thugs. On top of that, they weren’t designed for nightlife. My faithful coat was also barely hanging on.

It still provided some comfort from the chill of night and the bite of the wind. Small comforts. I should revel in them. I could remember a time when I didn’t have this protection against wind and rain. My mind wandered down that road for a second, then recoiled. Best not to dwell on those who’d been there with me. The ones still alive could be counted on one hand.

I clopped down the street on my hooves, walking across cobblestones. You could tell which part of the city you were in. The most wealthy areas? Paved. Next rung down the ladder? Cobblestones. The rest was a transition through a whole range of pebbles, gravel, wood, and dirt in the poorest districts on the city's outskirts.

On a rainy day, knowing which roads were the latter was essential. In bad years, some people still died in the mud.

Up above me, the stars did their best to shine through the smog. Only a few factories had opened and were already doing their best to obscure the sky. Even the moons looked less clear, the edges of Vertiel and Maviel waxy and unclear.

The light they reflected down onto the streets at least was clear, adding to the glow of the lamps. This close to the Watch, none of them had been vandalized, and their glow illuminated the lack of people around me.

The nightlife of the city typically was more active. Drunks, ne’er-do-wells, pickpockets, revelers, and others would be packing most streets. Some streets were free of that. The reasons varied from each, typically some combination of “Rich”, “Magic”, or “Both in enough quantities to hire private guards to keep the riff-raff away from the houses.”

In the case of Old Bell Road, being host to a Watch prison and headquarters kept all but the most respectable people off the street at night. No one wanted to fill some watchmen’s quota.

I didn’t know why it was called Old Bell Road. I’d heard over a dozen stories, some of which got mixed up in the dark and had mutant offspring carrying the traits of both. Sometimes, there’d be three or more parents for those children—the way of gossip about barely remembered history.

Most of the street held businesses and restaurants along the flanks, stretching down to its friendlier end. The Sapphire, at only five years of age, remained one of the city’s newest attractions. It was an anchor from the other, darker end where I currently walked.

The centerpiece of this side, the Coffin, still loomed over me. It wouldn’t be out of my sight for miles more. Dull-grey towers watched over the surrounding city, twelve in total forming the outer bounds of the prison. The only windows on the exterior walls were five stories up and filled with heavy iron bars. I could see the gleam of the occasional magical sigil underneath each, ready to go off if anything bigger than a hand passed through those bars. The Coffin had been built only a few decades ago as both headquarters and prison for the Watch, one of several to replace the old Central prison, which was now just a curiosity kept around because it was too damn big to demolish safely.

It had been a joke. I’d been inside to tour, never as a prisoner. Crumbling walls and flaking mortar, even during its so-called prime, those kept inside its walls practically walked out. The spells used to build it so tall had eaten most of its budget. That and being large enough at the time to hold a tenth of Dramelsen’s population. Rebellion had been a big concern back then.

Those spells made it a danger to tear down safely. They were also going to run out eventually. Woe betide anyone walking by when Central finally collapsed.

Maybe it could do us all a favor and crush some people around it. Central was right in the middle of where the hobnobs, sorcerous heavyweights, guild leaders, and members of parliament lived and worked.

I’d been walking this entire time, entering and leaving darkness in between the streelights. The shadows seemed to move about as I passed by, just my mind playing tricks. Not every infernal received the same traits from their cursed blood, and I lacked the ability to see in the dark so many of my peers possessed.

One of the streetlamps was out, leaving an entire swathe of that street side dark. I gave it a wide berth. Was there someone leaning up against it? Tall, too tall to be that skinny.

The shadowed figure suddenly moved, falling towards me. I drew my saber, cutting at it as it plummeted towards me in the dark.

My saber drawn, I stared down at a fallen ladder. One stile now spotted a gash from where my saber had struck.

A nervous giggle escaped my throat as I rushed for the light of the next streetlamp. Just a ladder.

No one lurked nearby. It was probably some junior lamplighter who’d rushed their work and left their ladder and the streetlamp improperly lit. The lamplighters were long gone by now. There’d been talk of some replacement from the minds at the Ironworks, cheaper, more efficient, shining brighter light.

For now, the dim light made these patches of shadow the perfect places for ambush.

My hands shook a little in my coat pockets as I continued walking. I was probably safe. The Watch would have tails on me, and they’d intervene just to keep their lead alive.

Versalicci knew who I was, though. His influence was reduced, and he was nowhere near the titan he’d seemed so little time ago. But still, even a fallen titan cast a long shadow.

I heard boot leather clacking on stone behind me. I didn’t turn around. That would give away I could hear them. I kept my pace, hand reaching for my saber’s hilt. The pace of the clacks was growing faster and closer. They weren’t even bothering to hide their approach.

I didn’t wait for them to get within stabbing distance. Whirling around, I held my saber at the ready to stab my too-obvious stalker in the face.

He immediately fell to the ground, a controlled motion that put a leg within kicking distance of my knee and a pistol aimed at my chest. The moonlight illuminated the pistol in his hand, but more importantly, his face.

I breathed out, tension easing out of me. I offered a hand down to him.

“Tolman, what are you doing out here?” I asked.

Tolman took my hand, getting back to his feet. He eyed my saber as he adjusted his coat. His fingers whirled about, telling me a message while obscured in his jacket.

Safe to talk? He asked in the signs of our old gang.

No. Tails from the watch I signed back.

He didn’t bother looking around. Even if we did spot them, there wasn’t much we could do about them now.

“Trying to find you. Word going around the district was that there’d been a dust-up between one of Versalicci’s thugs and some human gang inside the district. Pricked my curiosity, so I went to take a look. Got there by the late afternoon, place was swarming with the Watch. Talked to a few of them I knew, and they mentioned someone matching your description being carted off. So I started coming over here, see if I could get you out, protecting your hide. Then you almost stuck a hole in mine in return.”

“Apologies, I was on edge,” I said. “Thank you. Truly, thank you. That’s no excuse, though. What excuse did you tell Arsene?”

Tolman’s husband knew me from the real old days. It’s why he’d forbidden his spouse from helping me out, for good reason.

“Eh, wanted to go drinking. It was his turn to take care of the children, I think he was just glad I wasn’t going to the fighting ring. I think he’d prefer anything to that.”

“If you believe that, maybe tell him who you spent your night with,” I replied. “I don’t know who he’d try to kill first, you or me.”

“Considering he’s married to me and told me once the only reason god let you walk on earth was to serve as an example of what not to do in life, I think you.”

“Your husband always excelled in threat assessment. He’ll find out that you are out here with me sooner or later, I imagine. What will you tell him then?”

“That we both owe you, and he’ll learn to live with it. So, what happened to get you thrown in the Coffin?”

I paused, considering my words. Watch members tailing me would be certain, but would they be close enough to overhear us? Best not to risk that.

“A most exciting day. First, I got mixed up with this gang member, as you know. Then I get thrown in a prison cell and interrogated by a rather rude detective about my involvement. There was a bright spot, though: I met Mr. Voltar and Mr. Dawes in person. The esteemed detective and his trusty partner in the flesh. Can you even begin to guess how lucky I must have gotten Tolman?”

Tolman was currently trying not to look like he’d missed a step at me mentioning Voltar and Dawes. “Lucky, that’s a way of putting it. Worth going to jail for it?”

“Oh, please. I wasn’t in jail. I was merely being detained for questioning.”

“Jail is jail. They ask you anything?”

“A few different questions. I was forced to admit my Sculpts, which might lead to some issues if others in the district find out I’ve been trying to look…well, less Infernal. And I don’t want Scaligi getting in trouble.”

There, a juicy bone tossed to whoever might be listening for why I’d hidden my Sculpts. It wouldn’t hold up to much scrutiny. It might get them chasing Scaligi, which would be interesting to watch from the sidelines.

Scaligi had been dead for eighteen years now. It didn’t stop people in the District from pretending he was alive to throw the Watch off. No one would ever find the body.

We’d reached far enough away from the Coffin that the city's nightlife was beginning to appear. We kept a fair distance from the most drunken of the night-time residents. We weren’t in Infernal District territory yet. Anyone not an Infernal could be the worst kind of drunk to an Infernal. The ones where alcohol would help convince them that no one would care what you did to an Infernal.

Only a few races ranked lower than us on that totem pole. The Rats. The Moles. The Keltish, who, despite being human, apparently were considered even lesser than us just for being from a slightly smaller island.

I guessed foreigners from far-off lands were even lower. The newspapers certainly thought so.

“I think worrying about Scaligi should be low on your list of priorities. You’re not worried about those two having their eye on you?”

“Of course not. I’ve hardly done anything wrong. I don’t see any reason why this needs to be more than an abnormal incident to be put in the past.”

Hopefully, that’s all it would be. I didn’t need any of this back in my life. Occasional trips to the jail for suspicion of crimes were fine, maybe even a stay of a year or two. Unwanted figures from my past resurfacing? I’d rather live permanently in the Underground and be concerned about giant ants eating through my walls.

You didn’t have to worry about the ramifications of killing giant ants. You just killed them.

“Falara? Were you going to say anything else? Falara?”

That jerked me out of contemplation. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“As you do. What about?”

“Giant ants.”

Tolman visibly struggled to respond to that one. His mouth worked silently for a few moments as his face worked its way through a platter of emotions before settling on incredulity.

I cut off whatever he was about to say. “Forget about the giant ants. Did you have any plans for tonight before coming to make sure I was okay?”

“Well, since you’re alright, I might grab a pint, nurse that for a bit. Head home a few hours after.”

“You and Arsene aren’t on the outs, are you?”

“No. I just want a break. If you think you’re opposed to me trying Ironhand Jack, you should have heard his argument with me over it.”

“He’s probably -”

“I don’t want to discuss it. Are you going anywhere besides your house tonight? Definitely not the lab?”

“Definitely not the lab Tolman. I don’t think I’d have time even if I wanted to. I need to be up by 6:30 tomorrow. Although,” I considered the tails undoubtedly following us. “I may have a reason to stop in the tavern. Briefly. Not the Hells' Own, that would take me too far past my apartment. I don’t want to cross the Infernal District’s heart twice.”

“The Palms, then?”

“Does the owner still insist on an all-vegetable platter?”

“Yes, but I thought you just wanted a drink.”

“I haven’t had the opportunity to eat since morning. Outside of the Watch trying to have me eat a rodent. A sandwich might be in order. Say about this big?”

As I brought my hands up to mime the size of my preferred meal, I quickly flashed a few signs at him.

Compensation needed coat.

Three words had been all I could manage to obscure. It received a raised eyebrow in response. “Can you even fit a sandwich of that size in you?”

“I’m starving. Carnly’s?”

If Tolman’s eyebrow had raised before, it threatened to separate from his head now. I’d named an old name from our time with Versalicci, and he knew why.

“I was just there last week,” he said. “Old man’s eyesight is fading, so don’t be shocked if the order ends up wrong. Sure you’re game for it? Their foods are pretty spicy. And we already talked earlier about how you don’t like stronger drinks. You want to make a meal out of both of those?”

“I’m going to have to. It’s the closest place to my route home. After that, I’m collapsing in my bed after doing two things.”

“And what might those be?”

“Cleaning and a good tonic to ease my sleep. I really do need to be up early.”

That wasn’t a lie. I needed to see Halmon, see what ingredients might have fallen off the back of the wagon or were in shallow grave and were now for sale. Failing that, finding who had given him that initial tip. The extract I’d made from the dead wyvern’s brain seemed very fortunately timed.

I doubted the poisonings would stop. One was an isolated incident, two a coincidence. If a third occurred, it would be a pattern, one I intended to profit off of if it wouldn’t kill me first.

Unfortunately, I had two matters to take care of before I could drift off unburdened to my dreams: the box and making sure my lab was undisturbed.

That meant losing my tail. The figurative one, not the literal one currently curled around my leg. Which meant going to Carnly’s. I couldn’t imagine the old man would recognize me, considering he couldn’t recognize Tolman, but I’d avoided him till now like I did most of Versalicci’s associates.

We’d be forced to meet again by necessity. There was no better way to lose a tail.