Infernal Investigations Volume 2 – Chapter 103 – Regrouping II

For once my addictions were a help. I erged from my basent, faced red, eyes puffy from the irritant I’d poured on my eyes to stimulate the crying, then went upstairs. A few muttered words making it clear I was here to get so comfort items, and I’d established a good enough cover for why I’d left the basent.

So more muttering about fixing sothing to help sleep better, and I’d found a reason to head back down to my lab.

I stord up to my room, pretended to be grabbing so books and tea and other things, muttering angrily to myself while nabbing the list Harper trill had given , then fled weeping back down to my room.

“One second,” I told the Mourner, moving to a table and setting the books and the list down, then used a vial of simple water to wash my eyes of the irritant I’d used on them. “This is the list of priests identified to be in the program. Not everyone associated with it, just the ones practicing diabolism. How much do you know of anyone else associated with it?”

“Very little,” Kelson answered while keeping his hands on the table where they occasionally twitched before he forced them still. “I purposely kept myself as isolated from the others as possible. I feared that too much contact would give it away. I purposely kept myself ignorant of their nas. What I can offer is insight if I’ve dealt with them before.”

Not as useful as I’d initially thought, but honestly, soone with good insight into all the pantheon religions was an improvent. Gregory was many things, but high in the ranks of Tarver’s church? No. Knowledgeable of the other religions? I actually didn’t know, and I could hardly ask him, and thinking of him and Alice laid up in that temple was already making my stomach knot in ways I could not deal with right now.

“Are you alright?” Mourner Kelson asked .

I shook my head slightly. “Yes, just a little tired, Mourner. It’s been a long evening. Are you alright?”

His hands quivered on the table as he gave a clearly disingenuous yes. The blue was starting to spread on his arm now. Slowly. Far too slowly. I should stimulate it, using magic to make the change take faster. However, given how he already needed to make an effort not to scratch, and any damage to the skin might cause an issue, I decided to just let it be for now.

“I appreciate any insight,” I said, putting the list down on the table. “My knowledge is limited, although I’ve already picked out a likely na for our killer, but not for our conspirators. I doubt they are the sa.”

It was entirely possible that the person in charge of this could have taken on so truly ruinous deal to achieve staggering diabolic power, plotted out this sche to open a Hellgate in the center of the city, manage and make deals with many diabolists, have no experience in actually fighting, and be reluctant to cause collateral damage.

It was also so highly unlikely that Iwas put more stock in Varrow’s ramblings about everyone being shapechangers. Which, at this point, I suspected was just him looking for an excuse to duck out of work.

“But the conspirators are more the key than the killer,” I said.

“The killer is an extrely powerful diabolist,” Mourner Kelson said, sounding a little shaken. He’d probably witnessed so of the Priestkiller’s castings earlier tonight.

“Exactly, which is why he’s not our problem because I really doubt I can kill him,” I told the Mourner. “Even if he didn’t have help, he’s beyond even with holy water and bullets made of angel flesh. So, I’m leaving him for people who can handle him.”

Which ant the Voltars and their associates. They had the kitsune, the Shapechanger, the Chronomancer whose existence should be entirely theoretical. If they had an active practitioner in a magical field whose existence was still being debated, they probably had other assets they could bring as well. Assuming they wanted him dead. I could hopefully assu they at least wanted him stopped.

I had only the Xangs. Which I wouldn’t be trying to use now that the Priestkiller has sprung our best trap and survived.

As eager as they might be and as tempting as it was to let Diwei try to take him on, I was not going to have soone die. The last thing I needed wasthen, mbers of the Xangs swearing so kind of oath of vengeance on , no matter if the reason for it was the deceased’s own fault.

“And you think the conspirators will be easier?” Mourner Kelson asked .

“I’m counting on them being less personally dangerous,” I said. “If the opportunity arises to hit the Priestkiller in a safe way? I’ll hardly turn it down. Until then I’d rather focus on the real threats. The Priestkiller is a tool. I want to target the people directing the tool, scouting out the locations, telling it where to go, providing the supplies to keep it nice and sharp, the backup to keep it safe during its missions.”

Kelson nodded slowly. “I see your point. However, to have the reach you accuse them of having, these people will have their own pull and connections.”

“Yes,” I said, grinning. “But we have the fear of a church being connected to all of this. All we need is sothing concrete enough to get the superiors of whoever’s involved biting, and they’ll handle the majority of the legwork for us to see if they need to consider so pruning of their ranks. After all, they’d have better access than us to look into this as well. We just need to provide that initial spark of suspicion. And then, to save their own organizations if nothing else, they will thoroughly scour these possible conspirators and find out for us if they are involved. And deny their help to the Priestkiller.”

Mourner Kelson reluctantly nodded. “Fair points. Could you perhaps not sound like a villainess from a Hang Row novel?”

“I do not,” I said defensively, bristling at the comparison to a character from those things. They’d originally started out as accounts of actual criminals, had swiftly branched out to fictional exploits of said criminals, and now just outright invented characters and exploits of a bent so would call villainous.

I did not read them. At all. I’d picked one up by accident, which is entirely why I knew what he ant. And I had not done so kind of villainous monologue!

After a mont of reflection, Mourner Kelson decided to accept the truth of what I’d said and move on.

“So, how are we to determine who these suspects should be?”

“Your connections and insight, my list, and our common knowledge of how soone would be tempted to do this,” I said, still a little miffed. This was the second ti today soone compared to a villainess. Seriously.

“There’s so unifying motivations that you can spread equally among everyone,” I said, starting to draw on a separate sheet, forming categories. “Personal gain topping that list. A devil would promise many things in return for a Hellgate opening and probably deliver as well. The other is the saboteur, although as the number of deaths have climbed I don’t favor that one as much.”

At least not by the leadership. The Priestkiller perhaps, although they must have been on quite the supply of bullshit to eat if they thought this was to end the diabolism program of the churches. They could have accomplished that long ago.

“The last is the ideological commitnt, which again I rate lowly,” I told him. “Oh, I’m sure there are people still trying to enact the will of the hells. The idea that the Queen called on all the deities to scour the kingdom of anyone who held any loyalties to the Hells sounds like exaggeration.”

Kelson looked for a second like he was going to challenge my own challenge of the official history of Her Majesty’s rise, but decided not to press it. Good. It was clearly propaganda. If she had ordered that, the idea that so many Infernals would have survived was ludicrous.

“Personal gain would have to be high,” Mourner Kelson said. “A Hellgate…. it is a disaster, but not one this kingdom hasn’t survived before. And they’ll have to deal with the aftermath.”

He had a point. A Hellgate would be bad, disastrous for everyone living in Avernon, but the kingdom had survived a much larger and more extensive invasion from the Hells and had ended Her Most Profane Majesty’s reign. It would be costly, but possible.

“Depends,” I said. “On how long it would take. On if they’d even want to stay here. They might decide to try their luck in the hells. Or perhaps the devils tricked them or convinced them that the devils have a better chance than they should. Devils will sell all kinds of false promises in return for sealing a deal. And what they get promised in return. Immortality. Wealth beyond asure. Devilhood. Ascension to a level of power. So of those might be preferable to a grave, if you were already doing sothing that might see you barred from a choice afterlife.”

I knew even less about the various pastures the pantheon’s deities maintained for their devoted followers after death than I did about their religion. I knew enough that each had an afterlife for their most devoted, and Zaviel maintained for the rest. It had held none interest for . I’d dealt with souls before they passed from life.

And of course, my destination was already determined.

We needed a place to start, and I went with four nas who were the ones anyone would overlook by this point.

“Deities whose only priests involved in the program are dead,” I said, tapping those nas. “As far as we know, anyway. The list might be inaccurate. Zavan, Savareth, Kersov, Gallock. ans whoever would be involved wouldn’t be the Priestkiller, but soone in each religion’s church might be aiding the conspiracy.”

I considered the nas, starting with the least likely of the four first.

“Gallock seems a poor fit for anything but personal motivations,” I said. “Armies invading a city rarely improve the quality of art. Kersov maybe?”

“If they wanted the city reclaid by the wilderness, there are much better options than an army of devils,” Kelson said. “Avernon and many other original cities of Anglea were built around fortresses created to offer shelter and aid from devil incursions, among other threats. And even if the devils overrun Anglea, it would be hard from a mortal wound. The beating heart of the empire, but one it can survive without.”

I don’t know if I’d be that optimistic, but he was right in the sense that Anglea wouldn’t completely collapse. Be chewed on by a hundred optimistic rivals who ca in to ‘help’ with the diabolic invasion, perhaps.

“Savareth is unlikely,” Mourner Kelson said. “She’s hardly the most personable of deities, from all I’ve heard, but I doubt she would appreciate devils in the ocean. And if a Hellgate were open, it would invite things she fought before. There are stories of her fighting a devil of the sea millennia back, preventing it from sinking the island of Anglea completely beneath the waves. It never said she killed it.”

Well, if that wasn’t a pleasant thought. So unspeakably powerful devil that might use any opportunity to co back to continue a feud with a deity who mostly just threw thunderstorms at us, from my limited understanding.

“Maybe she’s hoping they’ll clean out the Nover,” I said. “I can’t imagine they could make it worse.”

We both had a chuckle over that, then I tapped the last na.

“Zavan,” I said carefully. “New. His people driven from underground. Sohow stuck around with what few dwarves did?”

“Deities don’t work like that, and I know little of why the pantheon accepted Zavan into their ranks,” Kelson said equally cautiously. “The clerics of Zavan I’ve talked to are polite, but standoffish.”

As was only to be expected of the majority of them, since we’d conquered their holand and now the Delvers were busy trying to make it a livable place to start expanding into.

“They lack the resources,” I noted. “Even if this was a way for them to get back at Anglea, I don’t see them having the pull to acquire freshly made sigils of Halspus, or the other equipnt this sche might need.”

Kelson shook his head just a little. “We know little of what stocks and stores the dwarves left behind, hidden. But yes. Zavan has mostly focused on trying to protect what dwarves did not disappear further into the earth. Putting that in jeopardy for this would be unwise.”

“Wisdom is rarely the strength of the desperate,” I muttered. “But all four of these are probably the least likely to be involved. And even if they were, without knowing who in their hierarchy knew of the program, we couldn’t make guesses, anyway.”

“And I don’t know most of their priests very well,” Mourner Kelson added.

My eyes narrowed. “I hope that isn’t a repeating trend?”

“It isn’t,” he assured , moving up from the table, hands put firmly in his pockets. “Kersov and Savareth don’t have many clerics in the city to begin with. Zavans are all new to .”

“And Gallock?” I prompted.

He sniffed contemptuously. “They treated with disdain after I accurately judged the quality of several headstones they did for us. Sub-standard. Very sub-standard.”

I giggled, drawing a wince out of him that I would do my best to ignore.

“Well, I suppose that can’t be helped,” I said, and decided to make so tea since I’d bothered to drag my post down anyway. “And unfortunately, our other main source isn’t on good terms with them either.”

“The encroachnt of Gallock on Tarver’s domain?” Kelson asked as I grabbed a match to start a fire.

“Yes,” I answered, striking the red phosphorous. They could make them as cheap as they wanted; I was never buying the white phosphorous ones. “Mind you, I don’t know how much ill-will Gregory has over it. Against the lower ranks, at least.”

“I’m sure he’d put your biases aside if you asked,” Mourner Kelson said drily. “Or just offer more of what I almost stumbled in on back at the temple.”

I looked the Mourner straight in the eyes, doing my best to force all emotion down. “You are mistaken about Gregory and my relationship, Mourner Kelson.”

The silence after that stretched on for far too long before he finally said, “Perhaps.”

Deciding to move past that as quickly as possible, I moved on to the next na on the list.

“Tarver,” I said, tapping the na briefly.

“The only one left is the apprentice of Singer Reginald,” Kelson said. “Young woman, I t her a few tis.”

“Clara Lionel,” I confird. “Last I heard, still at the temple of Tarver, and she hasn’t left since the morning of the murder. To say that what she saw the morning after the Singer’s death left her unsettled would be an understatent. I can check on that arrangent, make sure she is still there. That does leave the possibility of soone in the temple being involved.”

“The best motive I could think of is again trying to bring back so of the past, the adventuring spirit, but that’s much lesser than so of the other deities you’ve nad,” Mourner Kelson said. “And besides, if they wanted to bring the ti of adventuring back to Anglea itself, a concentrated devil invasion of Avernon offers little as opposed to spreading devil-summoning across the countryside. Again, as an organization, they benefit little, and even a group inside the church I don’t see doing it.”

“So once I confirm Clara Lionel has been in the temple since the killings, Tarver is a dead end,” I noted. “Outside of Father Reginald’s activities.”

“Activities?”

“Many trips to Glee Street,” I said, then seeing the Mourner’s befuddled look, continued. “It’s a street of casinos, pleasure dens, drug lounges, all run by an Infernal cri lord nad Holmsteader. It’s a frequent destination for Avernorners of a certain class who like to have a little more excitent in their life and ‘run the Quarter’. In truth, the most dangerous thing there is that gibbet, and it’s been a while since soone has been drunk enough to touch it.”

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Holmsteader’s people watched it as well, in case so poor lordling or lady ended up wandering drunk near that cursed gibbet. Anyone who touched would be the ones who irritated the staff and gang mbers on Glee Street.

“Father Reginald partook in gas of chance,” the Mourner said. “Although I never heard of him actually risking money on any of them. Usually just friendly gas with others.”

“Well, for so people, having actual stakes is what makes it worth doing,” I replied. “He was eting soone there to get diabolism supplies, but I’m quite sure the diabolist involved was under orders not to deal with him. One part of the conspiracy brushing up unknowingly against a victim. How’s your skin treating you?”

Poorly, from the looks of it, hands firmly shoved into politics, body ramrod stiff the way you got when you didn’t trust yourself to relax even a little without doing sothing you shouldn’t.

“I can deal with it,” he said, just a little note of strain in his voice.

“As long as you don’t scratch,” I reminded him, then moved onto the next deity on the list. “Semiv. Watch, god of the Watchn. I know the deity’s followers, but little of the deity himself. And he has four clerics in this program. Watch officers?”

“Watch officers and clerics of Semiv will work together at tis,” Mourner Kelson said. “And many mbers of the Watch worship Semiv, but Her Majesty keeps any actual cleric of Semiv from serving in the Watch itself. To keep the secular arm of the law from being unduly influenced by them.”

“Doubtful if they mostly worship him,” I noted.

“You wouldn’t be the first to say that,” Kelson replied. “Worshipping a deity is hardly an exclusive arrangent, but yes, others have brought that concern up before. Three of the nas have close associations with Watch officers, especially this one, Beatrice Ashfern.”

“Professional or personal?” I asked Kelson.

“Romantic,” he replied.

“Definitely a possible route for manipulation,” I said. “Do you know who they are involved with?”

“Henry Malstein,” Kelson said, and after a second to process, I turned an unamused glare on the Mourner.

“You could have ntioned that sooner,” I said, tapping my fingers on the tabletop.

“I couldn’t be sure if it was the sa Captain Malstein,” the Mourner protested, making snort. Certainly.

“For right now we keep an eye on her, but the Captain’s knowledge of you ends at ‘is alive’,” I told the Mourner. “I wanted to get you out of the Hells’ Own if this goes on for too long anyway; this just might move that titable up a bit. The other three?”

Not too much on the other two currently associated with the Watch, but the fourth definitely counted as another to keep our eyes on.

“No one is sure why Julian Gray stopped working with the Watch,” the Mourner said. “He used to do support for the Watch, outreach to certain communities. Then he stopped, and both the Watch and the church of Semiv have been extrely close-mouthed as to why.”

Well, it certainly sounded like sothing to look deeper into. Maybe to inquire with Malstein about, while figuring out who to inquire about Miss Ashfern about. Next on the list.

“Ixilliae, goddess of magic,” I said, and Mourner Kelson’s brows furrowed.

“There’s been agitation by them,” he said. “To open up Diabolism for study again. Ixilliae believes in the study of all magic, and the restriction to just those approved by the Imperial governnt stings. Especially when they give not a single mber of their clergy that privilege.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really? Alberta Vesper isn’t part of that church?”

I’d never asked, but I would expect at least soone using diabolism with the crown’s approval would be a mber of Ixilliae’s followers.

“I don’t know her,” Kelson said. “But again, there is a difference between a worshipper and an actual mber of the temple. I worship many deities. I am dedicated to one, and one alone.”

I mused on that. “I don’t see how the scare helps them. The diabolism program was getting them what they wanted, anyway. Exposing that and threatening with a hellgate gains them very little. Even from a fighting fire with fire perspective, diabolism isn’t the best suited for fighting diabolism.”

“It definitely is not,” Mourner Kelson said. “Although my understanding was you fought the Priestkiller and another devil?”

“Without diabolism,” I said, then quickly clarified when his eyes widened. “The Priestkiller was with borrowed tools. I got so bullets made of an angel’s flesh.”

His eyes widened even more. “How?”

“I impressed an angel of Tarver,” I said flatly. “I am not talking about it.”

Even if the Muse hadn’t suggested it, I wouldn’t even try to explain what had happened. That had been revolting. And I wouldn’t be forgetting the sensation of detonating my arm any ti soon. Disgusting.

“The church would benefit very little,” I said. “The true believer is out. The scuttler is no more valid than any other church. Personal gain? Possibly.”

I showed Kelson the five known nas of Ixillae priests practicing diabolism. He didn’t know two, thought two of the others wouldn’t have done this, and stopped at the fifth.

“Albert Kexsmith,” he said, considering the na. “Almost as old as . There was a scandal two decades ago. Reckless magic use on his part, it badly injured an apprentice of his. I know they demoted him in their hierarchy.”

I scribbled a note next to his na, then moved on to the next one.

“Daltaren,” I said. “Coins, rchants, and trade. Very little benefit as an organization for having devils invade Avernon.”

“Definitely not,” Mourner Kelson agreed. “And the nas of those involved?”

Four in total, two of whom he did not know and one of whom he had heard of scandals in the past involving disposing of oath-papers signed as part of a business deal to cheat one party.

“That sounds like the kind of thing to get you kicked out of Daltaren’s priesthood?” I ventured.

“They generally disapprove of actually breaking oaths you yourself have made,” the Mourner said. “Normally, yes, but Albert Mallet is both very skilled at what he does and wasn’t signed to the oaths he helped handle. And he’s friends with Brexington.”

“The industrialist?”

“The sa. You know him?”

“I infested his hedge with a devil.”

I put a mark next to Kexsmith’s na, doing my best to ignore the Mourner’s stare as we moved on to the final na. “This one? Elizabeth Millitent?”

He paused, clearly hesitating. The twitching hands were out of his pockets now, and they moved. My tail intercepted before his nails could scratch his skin.

“Out with it,” I said. “No use trying to hide it; you’re terrible at it.”

“I don’t usually feel like tiny insects are moving underneath my skin,” he said irritably, then turned to the last na. “Elizabeth has two children she loves dearly, and a dead husband she lost to a genetic condition of the blood. Both children have the condition.”

Oh. “It’s not curable?” I asked him.

“It’s magic of a kind that’s laid into their bones, their blood, their entire being,” Kelson told . “So fey offended by their paternal grandfather. The story, as she told it, was that the fey took the form of a traveler dying of thirst, and when the grandfather callously refused to let the fey drink from his well, telling him to drink from a dry trough instead. The fey cursed the veins of him and his descendants to beco as dry as the trough he was offered.”

“And she chose to have children?” Preventing fey curses from working wasn’t easy, especially not in the middle of birth.

“The youngest was born two years after the incident,” the Mourner said. “It’s been less than a year since the curse was placed, and the children are in the church of Ixillae’s care. Which is delaying it.”

But not curing it.

“I might have an in,” I said slowly. “Sothing that could convince Elizabeth to turn her coat, if she’s part of this.”

To be more accurate, I had a powerful fey who was favorably inclined toward . I could at least see if Tagashin was willing to take a look. Or knew who had done this. She wasn’t from around here, but if this fey was active recently she might have crossed paths with them before Intelligence chained her.

I put my hand on the Mourner’s body to check the spread of the color, but also to give so additional insight for what I was going to say next.

“Zaviel,” I said, feeling the sharp inhalation by the Mourner’s lungs expand and contract quickly, blood vessels narrowing inside his body. “Calm. I’m not accusing you.”

“Then there is only one person you are accusing,” Kelson said, not relaxing at all. “And while I had harsh words about her earlier today, Slayer Derrick would not work with devils.”

I couldn’t add anything one way or the other on the woman’s willingness to deal with devils. And she’d nearly died early on in the case. Hellhounds and rcenaries had nearly sent the Slayer of the Dead to her promised afterlife earlier than her already soon-approaching ti with a single grenade.

Was I just being paranoid that she had to know sothing about what was going on? Just because she’d been one of the three leading this?

Yes. Maybe I just preferred thinking complicity was the cause instead of incompetence. But it could easily be the latter. It was hard to rember with how old she looked, but the Slayer wasn’t much older than , and had spent most of that adventuring. So old practiced hand at church politics or even things besides the life of an adventurer she was not.

“You said the Day of Solemn Ground and Closing Skies was only a risk if the person doing it was aspected to death,” I said less confidently. “If Slayer Derrick were to do sothing on the ritual day, would it-”

“Not diabolism,” Kelson insisted. “She would be more powerful, and could do more than usual, but rituals related to diabolism? No. ‘Tis not a day of importance to the Hells.”

That was a matter for debate, since those were hard to pin down. And hard to keep consistently. You had good odds at least so devil of note favored the current day. But the point was clear. Derrick trying to utilize the symbology of the Zavielan holiday wouldn’t aid the Hellgate endeavor.

Still, I felt the need to double-check all possibilities.

“Aspected to death, so if there was a promise of death-”

“The goddess is not that kind of deity,” Kelson said, growing heated. “She safeguards souls. She is not like the other.”

I paused. So far, no real signs of lying, biologically. But also sothing else he said gave pause. ‘Other’?

“A deity of undeath?” I asked.

It made sense Zaviel would have a mirror, undeath to death, but I’d never heard of this one.

“Not on the pantheon,” Kelson clarified. “Apart. Patron to necromancers and liches, and the like. Fading in Anglea itself, although our attempts to root him out have had less success in our territories overseas. Although even towards the end….the The kingdom can sanction these necromancers and make it part of the license that they must worship another deity, but we in the church know the truth. They will keep him a whisper, but his last gasp at relevance has already ended.”

“The Lich with Shining Prince Charlie would have been the last gasp,” I guessed. The undead whose destruction had brought Slayer Derrick her acclaim, her curse, and had sunk the chances of the pretender into the bogs of Upper Anglea.

Kelson nodded once. “Yes. One last grasp for a toehold on our island. One that failed when he was killed.”

“I’ll admit to so confusion; I’ve heard the Voltars refer to the lich as her, not him, before,” I said. “Sa lich?”

Kelson grimaced. “So things I shouldn’t speak of. Let us just say that while no other true lich has touched Anglea’s soil, so have certainly made an attempt at becoming one.”

Ah. So Derrick had probably chopped her head off or sothing similar before the change could be completed. Nothing he’d said had carried any signs associated with lying inside his body, so I let go. The color spread was going well and was beginning to reach the outermost layer of skin in several spots. The Mourner was doing his best to ignore it. Probably a little unbalanced when he glanced down at his own skin and saw an unfamiliar color.

It had taken weeks to not feel startled by different skin colors when I first started.

“Baltaren,” I said, tapping the next na. “When we initially discussed this, and Gregory and a few others, this was the deity we thought might benefit. Not from an open hellgate, but from the panic of one nearly being opened.”

Kelson frowned. “That…is unfortunately accurate. Baltaren often embodies the negative aspects of the night more than the positive. He is one you worship and sacrifice to in order to avoid his attention, not gain it like you would with Semiv. And the night being less safe would empower him.”

“How much has his worship dropped since the Watch, since the night beca more lit, since the devils went away and the other nasty things that used to prey during the night?” I pressed.

“A fair bit,” the Mourner admitted, sounding more upset than I expected. “But deities change as well, and Baltaren’s worship is slowly changing.”

“Slowly sounds too slow to avoid being rendered irrelevant,” I stated.

“Possibly,” Mourner Kelson said, that sa discomfort in his voice.

He didn’t like when I suggested that the upper ranks of a church might be involved, even if they didn’t worship his deity. Then again, I suppose anyone who grew up with the pantheon would want not to doubt all or most of them. Especially if you regularly dealt with other clerics from each of those churches.

“I don’t suppose they stop using that magic keeping their features and identifying marks obscured when talking with fellow clerics?” I asked him.

“So of them,” he said. “Not these two, I’ve never dealt with them. I think they’re new to being clerics as well. The only tis I heard the nas was when we held an inter-faith ceremony welcoming new clerics into the ranks. Just under a year ago.”

Well, that was a possible hint. If you knew the diabolism program was dood from the start, you wouldn’t want to include people who might reflect badly on you with their ranks. Two novices in the church of Baltaren would bring comparatively less attention.

“Tildae,” I said, moving onto the next set of nas. “Three of them, which ca as a surprise. Purity doesn’t sh well with diabolism, I would think.”

Kelson let out a bark of laughter. “For so Tildaens, it fits perfectly. Thinking only they would be pure enough to handle the corrupting forces of diabolism. And I’ve t two of them, and trust , they would think only they could be trusted with it.”

“Any chance of involvent?”

“Only through trickery, and that would have run out by now. The third na I’m less familiar with.”

Onto the list Daniel Roberts went then for looking into if we had ti. Now for the deity where the nas were the least likely to be accurate. I couldn’t trust trill to have been accurate with this list even if she did want to help.

“Lareran,” I said, tapping the second to last deity na. “Reasons for their church to be involved seem slim? Devils steal, but souls don’t seem to fit what Lareran wants to take.”

“Saying Lareran is completely about stealing for the sake of personal gain is,” Kelson said, before hesitating. “It’s sothing I don’t want to get through. Given how fast this color is spreading, I want to get the tail and teeth done so I can sleep. It’s not within the church’s character.”

Fast was overselling it. One arm was fully finished, and the rest were only sporadically filling it, but I took his point. He wanted this over with, and considering I was going to be altering his mouth, best to finish this before I started altering his teeth.

“The two nas on the list?”

“No idea about either of them. You might have better luck with your Watch contacts.”

My Watch contact, and I didn’t expect anything unbiased from Malstein there. Lareran being an open question wasn’t ideal for what I was planning, but for now it would have to do. And that left just one deity.

“Halspus,” I said. “Makes the least sense on the surface. They supposedly don’t even have anyone practicing diabolism at all.”

“Sothing tells they top your list though,” Mourner Kelson said, still marvelling at the change in skin color. “This is amazing.”

“It’s rushed,” I corrected. “With more ti, I’d have your skin naturally look like that. Instead, I colored the topmost layers. Eventually, that color will start fading back to your natural tone as you shed. More if you do anything to speed that up, like too much hard labor. And try not to get cut. At least not badly enough to expose what the layers underneath look like.”

I did answer his other observation as I went to the vat of still-living flesh. “I’ll admit to biases. Although it’s been a non-Infernal associated with the one who has been pushing for the idea of it being Bishop Gallaspie. What do you think of Michael Forecreek?”

The question surprised the Mourner enough that he stopped looking at the spreading skin color. “The bishop’s apprentice? We’ve traded words a few tis. Nice enough fellow. Good at organization and record-keeping is what I heard. Why?”

“Just so suspicions,” I said. “And Bishop Gallaspie?”

"The man is abrasive at best, but there’s little doubt in his commitnt to fighting the forces of the hells,” Kelson said reprovingly.

“He must also be very blind, perhaps, to have missed all of this,” I countered. “And if the church as a whole had a reason to do this?”

Kelson was quiet, chewing on his lip. “It makes sense in a similar way to so of the others. As the threat of the Hells has decreased, the church of Halspus itself has been slowly splitting on the emphasis on Halspus as a slayer of devils and deity of the scouring sun as opposed to the man of light who lets agriculture grow and brings light to the Ring each day. And that split is still fresh. They resent the place Maldeura holds in the pantheon, that so foreign deity the Queen found while abroad is placed equal to one of the founders of Anglea, the original vanquisher of devils from the island. They feel as though Halspus has been weakened by Maldeura’s rise, forced to focus on only part of his previous domain. A more passive, less militant deity.”

“It didn’t seem that way inside the Quarter,” I said. “And even after, as things started loosening up, Halspus’ clergy remained as militant as ever.”

“To Infernals they definitely would seem that way, especially in Avernon,” Kelson replied. “The Black Fla rebellion put an end to the debate, at least where Infernals were present. Militancy beca necessary again.”

I couldn’t really say if that was true or not.

We’d ventured out of the Quarter, of course, but how much had we truly found out there? Each one of those visits was chaperoned by one of Versalicci’s trusted lieutenants. Information-gathering had been reserved for certain people. I’d thought it was just a good distribution of skills to the tasks at the ti. How much was that about controlling the flow of information?

Not that I was going to suddenly think the other side in all of this was innocent. I’d lived in the Quarter through the attentions of Halspus’ clergy, the Watch, and the ‘good’ people of Anglea.

“In terms of church support,” I said, moving past the topic, and Mourner Kelson allowed to without protest. “Baltaren and Halspus might benefit. More from the threat of it opening than anything else. Zaviel is a slight possibility, and only because Slayer Derrick is involved.”

Mourner Kelson grimaced. “You misunderstand the role of a Slayer. They are high-ranking, but they are not usually the kind with that kind of influence in the workings of the church. At least not without decades building it up, and Slayer Derrick-”

“-will be dead long before that point,” I finished for him. “Fine, I’m more interested in Baltaren and Halspus, anyway. And for individual priests involved in this. We’ve identified so persons of interest at least. So, let get started on your teeth.”

***

By the ti I was done, the clocks had long past chid three in the morning.

Yawning, I left the newly Biosculpted Mourner Kelson down in my basent.

He was resting, albeit in not the most comfortable position. We’d needed to find a position that wouldn’t put strain on his tail stump or horns. But he was finally resting.

I’d need to as well. If I wanted to get up at any reasonable ti tomorrow. With a whole new slew of possibilities to look into regarding them.

But forget the churches for right now. They weren’t the only player in this. Imperial Intelligence. What was their goal?

Recruitnt? They’d recruited for certain, and given Voltar’s assessnt of the Priestkiller they might think he was a possibility as well. A diabolist that powerful and potentially that easily convinced to do your dirty work might be a useful asset.

Of course that raised the question of why let things get this close to done. The Hellgate opening would benefit no one. That happening brought no benefit unless they were in on it.

Even I wasn’t paranoid to consider that too deeply. It was possible. If it was, I wasn’t going to be able to alter that.

I yawned as I made it to the ground floor of my shop. Soone had bothered to bring my mail in at so point.

I saw a letter with the Tarver’s lute emblazoned on it and imdiately plucked it out of the pile.

My heart did not race, I was certainly not frantic, and I definitely was calm in getting the envelope open.

Two different letters inside, from two different people, and I resisted the urge to rush upstairs to read them. Calm. I could be calm.

That calm cracked so when I read so of what both had put in here. Both from what was said, and also because of the frightening possibility these letters sharing an envelope ant one had seen even part of what the other had written.

Especially the latter parts. Please let neither have seen either of what the other had said. Or whoever delivered the mail. And especially anyone trying to magically surveil . Just..ignore those.

Okay. Focus on the relevant part Malvia. Not the other stuff. Especially not if either had seen any part of each other’s letter when this was mailed. Or whoever from the temple mailed it.

Damn whoever handled the Temple post, couldn’t this have been mailed as two letters and spare my heart and mind the stress?

I looked at Gregory’s again, focusing on the one part that I hoped would drive the rest out.

The Queen of Masks called involving Holmsteader’s people a favor to you since she attacked us.

I breathed slowly. Holmsteader. The favor was hinting to her involvent. Clearly more closely involved than she pretended. Did she know about Versalicci’s involvent? Was his encroachnt on her territory a front ant to make people think they were not working together?

And why point that way? The Queen of Masks was clearly trying to help them. Why give hints pointing towards soone I’d dismissed as being part of this?

Excellent questions. I intended to get answers first thing tomorrow.