Starken’s corpse struggled to its feet, the devil wearing it maneuvering bloated flesh with disgusting proficiency. Legs wobbled as it took a step closer, mutated bone and muscle not able to stand if diabolic will didn’t drive it. The strange liquid poured from every pore now, and while her body had given off not a peep of diabolism when prodded with my focus, now the energy being pumped into the sli was so thick I could feel it through the air.
“Ignore the corpse,” I warned, falling back to where everyone else had gathered by the doors. “The liquid is the real threat, not the puppet.”
That’s all Starken was now.
Sli coalesced, forming tentacles of ooze that lifted Starken’s corpse in the air as the laugh continued. Her jaw wrenched open, snapping as the possessing devil stretched it beyond the breaking point. A fat, swollen tongue licked razor-sharp teeth covered in dry blood while the old human ones fell to the ground below.
I relaxed just a tad. If it was acting solely like an animal, it wouldn’t be too dangerous. Just don’t let it touch anyone but .
Still, it had laughed, so capable of speech. I glanced down at the ground and spotted a thin tendril.
A lance of light shot from Gregory’s hands, and the tip of it disintegrated. The rest of it recoiled, sending a bench flying as it pulled back.
Starken’s lifeless gaze turned to stare at , the guttural laughter turning into the language of the Hells.
“An interesting company you keep, Daughter of a Duke. Surely your father’s daughter with your betrayal of family.”
I’d learned this language mostly for the damn summonings. Rusty as I was, the only difficult part was the sound of words feeling like nails dragging along the insides of my ears. “Definitely intelligent,” I said in Anglish, before switching to Infernal. “I claim no father from your realm, you repugnant puppeteer. Piss off.”
The Devil hissed a dry laugh as its puppet moved closer, tendrils snaking out of the puddle of leaked fluids.
“Away, Foulhorn,” Gallaspie said dismissively. “Keep this thing’s tendrils from reaching beyond the door.”
“He is right,” Derrick added. “Leave the creature to us.”
I was about to protest when Gallaspie exploded into white light. My eyes shut, tears already streaming as I cussed out the priest for deciding to do that. My skin felt like sandpaper was rubbing on it.
I forced open tear-filled eyes just in ti to see Gallaspie lunge forward, a greatsword ford of that white light in his hands.
Tendrils of sli rose to et him, and in a pair of slashes, they fell apart, falling onto the ground below in a splash.
Derrick gestured, and the ground beneath Starken broke open, a pair of chains lashing around the corpse’s limbs. They pulled until they ripped the limbs off. Skin split, flesh parted, bones broke apart at the joints as the two arms fell to the ground.
The devil shrieked and tried batting Gallaspie with another tendril only for the old man to move his hands, that blinding sword appearing once again. I saw the tendril dissolve, white light racing up its liquid surface to Starken’s corpse before the white light forced my gaze away.
The corpse-puppet lunged towards us when I looked back, only for Derrick to rush forward, hand closing around its neck. The corpse stopped, shrieking as a sickle ford in Derrick’s other hand.
She plunged it right into the corpse’s forehead.
“You are dead, Leliel,” Derrick said sorrowfully. “Let your body not be violated beyond your passing.”
The body was limp, the demon inside snarling and roaring from inside, but its puppeteering of the corpse had ended. It could only yell defiance before Gallaspie drove a blade of shining light right into the puppet’s face.
It shrieked, the corpse-puppet glowing bright light out of every orifice.
“I can’t hold it much longer Matthew,” Derrick warned.
“I’m aware,” he said, letting go of the sword. “Back. Quickly.”
The two of them backed away, Gallaspie kneeling down. I went to move forward, only for Voltar to grab my arm.
“Might not be best,” he warned, and then the roof above the devil shuddered, then shattered as light poured in from above. Nothing but white, and now my eyes scread as I stumbled backward.
My hands reached for a potion while the devil’s shriek was like a knife in both ears.
The soothing sensation of the potion beginning to work helped ease the dry riverbed my throat had beco. Even still, each gulp felt like swallowing sand. Damnable Light and its effects!
Leliel’s corpse lay half-buried by the rubble of the roof, hands futilely reaching for an escape. The corpse was completely motionless, frozen in place. I heard, just on the edge of what I could catch, a shriek of rage and despair.
The devil, screaming out of frustration in its last monts on this plane as it was sent hurtling to its ho.
I stared at the corpse, then at the hole in the ceiling, then at Gallaspie standing over the body, an actual physical sword in his hand, not just one of light. It shined, and just looking at it made my still sore eyes ache.
“Your tongue threatens to leave its ho, devil,” he told irritably. “Did you think simply a tired old man?”
I shut my jaw with an audible clack. I tried to think of what to say, only to blank. The frightening realization that if that sword was turned on , I couldn’t stop it? That tended to make any snappy remarks leave my head.
Divine magic. Clearly more powerful than I’d expected. Although from the similarly shocked expression on Gregory’s face, these two might be outliers.
“A possessed devil,” Derrick noted, looking down at the corpse with an expression of disgust. “It must have been summoned by the killer. Eliminate all traces of the corruption, leave no one to suspect the devil hiding within.”
Possession was an old tool of devils, although typically it involved a willing host. Or one whose mind the devil was certain could be shackled to its whims. A dead body was a case I had never heard of before now.
“Clever trick,” Voltar noted, looking down at the top half of Starken protruding from the collapsed rubble. “Very clever.”
Gallaspie snorted. “Clever? The creature died before it could accomplish any havoc. Not very clever at all.”
“It died because it knew the jig was up, my dear Bishop,” Voltar said. “I will admit to being at a little of a loss for why it thought producing so much of this sli was a good idea though.”
“No experience,” I said, poking so of the inert sli with my Diabolic focus. No reaction, but there hadn’t been any earlier. What was this?
“Could you elaborate, Miss Harrow?”
“Just a theory,” I said. “Based on sothing Gregory said about the goal of the Diabolism program. Researching the hells because we know so little of what is going on there. The sa goes in reverse. Powerful devils, they can still scry. Lesser ones like this? If they haven’t been here for a while, why not think a trick that probably worked in centuries past worked this ti? Back then, people didn’t know the full array of tricks Devils pulled in playing dead or counting on all of their body parts being corruptive. This stuff isn’t though. Not anymore.”
Gallaspie grunted. “It should all be burned anyway.”
“Agreed,” I said. “It was definitely intelligent, and I wouldn’t expect the sli to be its only trick.”
“Yes,” Bishop Derrick said, serenely walking over like she hadn’t just chokeslamd Starken’s corpse into the ground. The hells was with these seemingly old people moving better than most a third of their apparent age?
Then again, my aunt was much the sa. Magic.
“If it isn’t too rude,” she continued. “The devil appeared to be talking to you. If what it said was relevant, we’d appreciate knowing.”
And with Gallaspie right behind her, a reminder of what might await if I refused.
“It wasn’t,” I said dismissively. “Devil had so choice opinions about my parentage is all.”
“Really?” She asked with a slight frown. “Why would it have cause for that?”
Did they not know? Well, I was hardly going to let them know it, especially-
“She is the daughter of a duke of the hells,” Gallaspie said scornfully. “Related to the son who attempted to subvert this city, and his ally once upon a ti.”
“Before anyone judges for not slitting his throat on the way out,” I said mildly. “I just want to say a whole lot of people also failed at that. And continue to fail at that.”
“Bishop Derrick, Bishop Gallaspie,” Voltar said, leaning down by what was left of Starken’s corpse. “Not to interrupt your attempted grilling of one of my aides, but since we have thoroughly smote the corpse, can we attempt to get so of the rubble out of the way?”
I took the chance to fall back, leaving them to the corpse of the devil. Although the temptation to add a second corpse was growing. The imp had gone quiet after its little boast about not telling about the other devil.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringent.
I ended up near Gregory, mostly because being near Forcreek didn’t appeal, and Tagashin was nowhere in sight. Doctor Dawes was with Voltar and the two bishops.
“I think this case ends with and that man trying to kill each other,” I whispered, looking at Gallaspie.
“Surely you don’t an to suggest that our fair Bishop Gallaspie, who has outright agreed with the killer’s motive, could possibly be the killer?” Gregory said lightly.
“Perhaps I’m just biased,” I muttered back. “The man is so hateable. Also, it is interesting that he thinks it impossible for anyone in the program to be murdering their fellow priests, yet also considers the re act of using diabolism sothing that permanently corrupts the soul.”
Gregory nodded, a wary eye out as if Gallaspie or his lackey were lurking around the corner. “It does seem suspicious. I was told the Halspus clergy were involved entirely in a supervisory role, so none of them should have any Diabolist talents. And both of them decry the program as a barely necessary evil. But if anyone would be willing to damn their souls as they see it in return for ending this?”
“Possible,” I muttered. “We need to test that sohow.”
“Do you have a knife for it?”
I laughed drily. “No. There should be thods. Or we can just keep a watch on both of them. And even if neither one is the killer, it might be worth picking their brains for the killer’s mindset.”
“Besides, sticking him with a knife might end in you losing an arm,” Gregory noted.
I hissed between my teeth as I watched Gallaspie talk with Derrick. Not even a hint of that blazing sword under his robe.
“Yes,” I admitted. “I think that would complicate things a fair bit. Maybe not too much.”
“Really?” Gregory asked. “Plotting his murder already?”
I scowled. “Look I don’t care for you insisting-”
He held his hands up placatingly. “It’s not a condemnation Malvia. Genuine. Especially when discussing the hypothetical of him being the killer.”
I raised my eyebrow a little at that phrasing, implying even without the hypothetical of Gallaspie being the killer, discussing his death would be just fine.
“Certainly not with Diabolism,” I said. “Between the sword, the deity, and everything else he’s practically designed to be immune. Honestly? I expect that even if a blow had been landed, it wouldn’t have done much. The amount of divine power he used towards the end there? Just channeling it through his body may have disintegrated those tendrils on contact. No, I’d settle for two answers he doesn’t seem suited for.”
“And what would those be?” Gregory murmured, eyes on the lookout for any watching.
“Bullet and surprise,” I said. “He’s human. As far as we know. Humans fall remarkably quickly to either of those two.”
“Could you arrange it?”
I paused, looking in confusion at a deadly serious Gregory.
“Excuse ?” I asked. “Could you repeat that?”
“If we needed to, how quickly could you arrange it?” he repeated.
I frowned. “Why do you want a specific plan to kill him?”
“It just seems prudent is all,” Gregory replied.
Prudent? The man had been horrified by deaths he caused a month ago, had frozen up fighting Shapechangers, and now was trying to organize a hit on a Halspusian bishop like it was no big thing?
Where was my paralytic-coated knife when I needed it?
“I’d need more information,” I said. “His patterns, his routines, and more importantly who are you and what have you done with Gregory Montague?”
“Are you upset that I’m suggesting this?” He asked quietly. “Listen, if he is the-“
“Shhh,” I said, looking at where Gallaspie and Derrick were at the far end of the church, Forcreek alongside them. “Utter lunacy. You want to talk about killing soone who we don’t even know is the killer yet? Nonsense. This conversation is over.”
Hopefully Gregory would pick up that this was a conversation for a more private location. Both about what could be done, and why he suddenly was so murder-happy.
***
By now, Voltar had given up on getting the rubble away, and he and the bishops had wandered off, leaving only Forcreek by the body, sitting next to it, eyes closed, muttering under his breath.
“Sad, isn’t it?” I remarked.
My voice startled the aide out of his vigil, and he recoiled upon realizing I was near, one hand raised as he got to his feet. He nearly tripped on his robe putting distance between us, and ended up with only an additional foot, huffing and puffing as his hand pointed towards .
“Sorry,” I said, holding my hands up completely empty, hoping that he wasn’t fool enough to try blasting with divine magic. “Didn’t an to startle you. Knew the victim well?”
“What do you care?” he snapped, coughing as soon as he got those words out. “Aren’t you so kind of diabolist gang mber?”
“Ex-gang mber,” I said, keeping my hands up as I walked a little to the side. His arm tried to follow , shaking as it did so. “I’d like to state that neither being a criminal or a diabolist necessarily ans a deficiency in moral character.”
“All trafficking with the Hells does,” he says, eyes narrowing.
“Fair enough,” I said, shrugging slightly. “Still, doesn’t an I can’t think sothing’s sad. No one deserves to die like this. Or to have their corpse used like this after death.”
He eyed suspiciously, and I was struck by how young he was. I wasn’t that old, but he looked younger than lissa, the battered spectacles and blonde hair framing a boyish face still losing so of that baby fat. Strange that soone so young would be a Bishop’s personal aide.
“That we can agree on,” he said somberly. “A strange opinion coming from soone in a district full of cannibals.”
Gallaspie was close. Gallaspie was close. It wasn’t worth beating so sense into this fool, who wouldn’t understand after, especially if it resulted in that sword being ramd right through my eye socket.
“You ever been hungry, Mr. Forcreek?” I asked him.
“Yes,” he said. “Many tis, and never did I choose to eat the flesh of my fellow man. Nor of any thinking being.”
“Good for you,” I said sincerely. “Try being hungry when there’s no food, not even rats because there’s not even garbage for them to live in, and when charity gets brought in, it gets seized so it can go to the actual worthy poor? Do you want to guess the symbol on the vestnts of the priests who arranged that?”
I didn’t even pay attention to his reply. I needed out.
***
Outside the church now. Walston had stomped off to her picket line shortly after the devil’s death, apparently with so grievance against Voltar and the bishops. I didn’t care. It ant privacy for here on the outside with no one around.
“You know,” Tagashin disguised as Barnes said as I suddenly beca aware of leaning against the wall two feet to my right, “I thought it would be much quicker before you found yourself out here.”
I’d thought too soon. An easy mistake. I let out a slow, tired breath.
“Where were you?” I asked Tagashin quietly.
“Up top,” she replied. “The thing in there? Lesser prey than even you would be, and the two bishops would have it handled before I could say boo. Besides, revealing myself to them and giving away Voltar has a kitsune in their pocket? Much less useful than what I did instead.”
“And what would that be?” I murmured. These were thick walls of sea life and rock, but best not to take the chance of a Forcreek with his ear on the other side of it.
“Enjoying the morning breeze,” she said. “It slls so pleasant coming off the Nover, I could sll every little piece of trash and refuse that everyone dumps in it, as well as the stench of the kind of river-dweller that eats on that garbage.”
I rolled my eyes. “Seriously.”
“Oh, no fun,” she teased. “Fine. Keeping an eye on who would show up. Just in case your rather murderous twin decided to make an appearance.”
I frowned. We weren’t literal twins, but Versalicci would fit the bill, but even with his rather cavalier appearances above-ground he’d never co this far afield. And definitely not near the watch. And how could Tagashin know about lissa?
“You an the killer,” I said, cursing my mind for having taken that tangent.
“Of course, I ant the killer,” she said, curiosity blooming on her face. “Who did you think I ant?”
I tried to think of a way out, then realized that throwing the kitsune sothing would be better than having her take an interest in ferreting out.
“When you’re talking to soone like , discussing an evil twin is not so distant a possibility,” I admitted.
Her eyes practically sparkled at that thought. “Oh, an evil twin? What, would they be wearing an eyepatch.”
“We are not having this discussion,” I said.
“Ooh, she’d be in a black fancy dress, and she’d need an even more evil na sohow. Tyrannia Barrow?”
“Could you please stop talking nonsense?” I snapped, tempted to go have Voltar repeat whatever trick had sent her hurtling through a train when she tried running away last ti.
“Oh, you’re just upset because you want to be the one in a fancy black dress,” Tagashin teased.
Damnable Kitsune, could she not be accurate?
“I am not dignifying that with a response,” I said as calmly as I could. A tirade about the budget limitations of shady Infernal alchemists was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it. “Did you spot anything of actual interest?”
“A few things,” she admitted. “Not our killer I think. The people attracted seed more worried than interested. And none of them seed the diabolist. More like people wondering why a devil was suddenly in the city.”
“Still worth noting,” I said.
“Of course, which is why I’ve got a way to keep track of them. For later. But going off chasing one of them might an missing a later one. Speaking of, your special guest is still in our carriage.”
lissa. I raised an eyebrow. “She hasn’t made a run for it yet.”
“Nope. And I haven’t been peeking, so if you wanna find out why, that’s on you.”
I considered it, then nodded. It seed as good as anything else I could do for right now.
***
lissa lay on her back in the carriage, reading a book. I frowned as I read the title. The Case of the Man-eating House.
“I don’t want to guess which of them keeps fictional retellings of their own cases in here,” I said as I sat across from her. “Interesting read?”
“Yeah,” she said, thumbing to the next page, not even glancing my way. “Fictitious?”
“Exaggerated or changed for the parts that can’t be made public,” I said. “Skeleton’s probably real, so of the fat’s been trimd to keep it actually publishable without the governnt coming down on them like a ton of bricks.”
“And these are the people you work for now?” She said, looking up with a coy little grin.
“They’re the people I’m stuck working with because Golvar decided to drag into a ss that outed to everyone,” I growled angrily. “I don’t know what pisses off more, that I got dragged into a swirling typhoon of chaos by him or that he didn’t live to experience it himself.”
The little bit of amusent left her face, replaced by fury.
“Do not talk about him like that,” she hissed. “He deserved more than death with only a traitor to witness it!”
I eyed her warily, then slowly nodded. “Speaking out of line. I should have held my tongue.”
Her eyes were on the verge of tears as she managed to get out a simple “Do.”
I sighed. Not going as planned. “Book any good?”
She eagerly went for a chance to discuss anything but Golvar. “It’s alright. A good way to waste ti for now.”
“You seem pretty eager to stay inside,” I said. “Thought you would have made a run for it by now.”
She scoffed. “Yes, make a run for it. In front of two bishops, who knows how many Watch, and all of you, into a district reeling from a beloved figure of the community who was killed with Diabolism. I can’t imagine why I wouldn’t do that.”
“You had your shot,” I said. “When we were all in the temple. Just a line of Watch, citizens behind. Easy to make a run for it.”
“You were right,” she snapped. “Was that so hard to hear? Hells below, the entire pantheon of those gutless hypocrites utilizing Diabolism. And they preach about the evils of doing so?”
“Think that’s mostly the Halspusians,” I said. “The rest of that anti-diabolist sentint is more secular than the other religions chipping in. Rember who the crown’s patron deity is?”
“Says the person working with a bishop of theirs,” lissa said drily.
“Like I have more of a choice in that than I do with Voltar?” I asked. “Besides, defying that one….deadly man.”
I had actually looked outside, to where Voltar and Gallaspie had finally exited the temple, when soone else caught my eye. Soone else I knew, and who was making a beeline for the carriage. Dressed as any other vagrant, he wasn’t drawing any attention as he neared.
“Get out, now. Unless you wanna be chained alongside ,” I snapped, and eyes widening, lissa opened the other side of the carriage and scampered out.
I recomposed myself. Okay, this was arguably inevitable, although why approaching and why now was a bit of a puzzle. They should have been involved from the start.
Samuel Voltar entered the carriage, looking at the door I’d shut after lissa had left through it.
“Disagreent of so kind?” He asked innocently.
I couldn’t hide lissa being a diabolist, not with Gregory knowing as well. I’d downplayed it as much as I could with Voltar, and could only hope he didn’t inform Intelligence. He didn’t seem particularly enamored with them. But there was no pretending soone hadn’t been in the coach or who they were.
“A discussion of bishops,” I said. “A disagreent over them. Versalicci making his opinions known. On the topic of siblings, your brother isn’t in here.”
“I know,” he said as he settled in the seat across from . “You’ll have to go fetch him.”
I raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue such a mundane and minor point. “He’s in discussion with the bishops at the mont, do you want to fetch them as well?”
“The bishops and their attendants will have to wait,” Samuel Voltar noted drily. “A third cleric is dead at the hands of diabolists.”
User Comments
0 comments from readers