Infernal Investigations Chapter 25 - Possessed are no longer allowed in the Hospital

I needed to co back here and steal this bed.

My apartnt’s bed had hardly been the worst place I’d slept, indeed an improvent over the gutter, the street, or even coffin beds, all of which I’d endured over my years in the Quarter. But this bed was to my apartnt’s bed what the apartnt’s bed had been to the coffin bed. It even had feathers in the mattress!

My body felt like giving into the temptation to rest a few minutes more, but I’d slept long enough. I didn’t want to overstay my welco, and I didn’t want to be late for my appointnt today. If I missed this opportunity, who knew when I could find it again?

By the ti I was up and dressed in my only change of clothing, there was a swift knock on the door.

It took a second to remove the chair I’d wedged in there, then to undo the lock and latch. Edwards was on the other side, with a platter and a teapot.

“Tea?” the bartender offered.

I gave it a suspicious look. “Not free, I’m assuming.”

“You’d be right in that regard. And double the usual price as well.”

This better be the end of that. If I showed up here in a week and he tried charging double…well I supposed I wouldn’t be showing up as Katheryn Falara. It wouldn’t matter.

The advance paynt from Lord Montague grew smaller and smaller as I counted a pair out of the swiftly slimming coin purse. I passed them to Edwards, and we both sat down at a small table.

“I’m assuming you don’t always visit guests every morning?” I asked, while sipping from the cup.

“No. And normally I wouldn’t bother with this either. But because you’re a good custor, and you paid upfront and didn’t sneak out the window overnight, I’m going to give you so advice.”

I took a sip of the tea, considering the bartender. I didn’t imagine he personally woke up every guest, so this was sothing he felt was important. “I’m waiting, Mr. Edwards.”

“You should sneak out the window. Or the back door, but probably the window. Right now.”

Ah, joy, that kind of advice. “I am going to presu there are people downstairs waiting for ? I hope they haven’t been forceful.”

“No, none of them have been yet, but there’s a good ten mbers of the watch down there claiming they’ve been posted here till the marches stop. Might actually be true, but Voltar’s partner Dawes is also down there, ordering breakfast.”

I frowned. Edwards was right. The Watch might be here for the marches, assuming they expected more to take place. Dawes’ presence…

“Mr. Edwards, how could you know that Mr. Voltar and Mr. Dawes might be after ?”

The Bartender gave an abashed grin. “Tolman talks. He let slip yesterday evening that you’ve been caught up in so mystery of theirs?”

“That I have,” I replied. Godsdmanit Tolman, what the hells were you thinking?

Oh, which one is Tolman? Is it Quelvan? Marchtes? Juliana? Kassera? Dalxian? Sounds like the trust placed in them was mistaken.

I ignored the imp for the most part, although it hadn’t slept when those last three nas had passed. It must be a trick, pretending it still thought they were alive. Nothing about the suppression should have touched the creature’s mories.

“Mr. Edwards, I realize I’ve not been the most pleasant patron as of late.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “Although the coins helped ease that so.”

“Could I get a favor?”

“If it’s within reason, you can have a favor. Just not asking to fight the Watch. Or stalling them. I do not want the Watch deciding I’m a person of interest.”

“It shouldn’t result in too much attention. I may require so help to leave if it isn’t too much to ask?”

“Depends on the help. And it’ll cost you.”

“Of course it will. I could hardly expect anything else. I suppose the first thing is, do you have a spare change of clothes in my size?”

***

When this entire ss was over, I was going to head to a clothing store and spend two hours inside.

The spare clothes had ended up being a mixture of yellow and red remnants of two different outfits, which a hooded cloak mostly covered. Otherwise, I might have risked just having the Watch take in. My last remaining outfit was on its way out, and hopefully, I could pick it back up later.

One barmaid who’d been red-skinned and about my current size had been willing to face a bit of danger in return for coin. She’d wear my old clothes and walk around the block, returning in a couple of minutes—all the ti I needed.

Not all of them would leave to follow the barmaid, of course. Just enough to make slipping out easier. The barmaid went out the front, and after half a minute I went out the back window, ready to drop into the alleyway.

She’d claim I approached, then paid her to change clothes after delivering breakfast, leaving Edwards out of it. Oh, so suspicion would fall on him, but not enough that he hadn’t agreed to do this little stunt to draw attention away from my exit.

There were people watching the alleyways, of course. And also people watching the rooftops. I couldn’t avoid being spotted leaving. What I could do was to avoid being caught, and maybe even tailed. I wasn’t doing anything illegal, but I could not afford delays and I also could not afford to be caught. Not today of all days.

When I’d scheduled this, I hadn’t expected it to have this much importance. Circumstances were forcing my hand now.

Goodbyes would have to be said today and needed to be said before I went through with leaving.

Hanging down from the ledge first, I dropped, hoofs hitting the ground. Within seconds I was out of the alley, running.

This tale has been pilfered from . If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

***

The Silver Street of Liberation had seen better days.

The cobblestone highway that was the route the then-Shining Princess and her forces had taken during the last battle for Avernon must have been quite the sight back in the day. I’d read accounts of the entire street’s surface gleaming silver, created from the lted, transmuted bodies of Her Profane Majesty’s royal guard division.

However, flesh transmuted to lted silver made for a terrible road, so they’d had it removed and settled for an alchemical substance that looked like silver. No one had replaced that coating in a while, so in worn spots, you could see the cobbles underneath.

I kept to the outskirts, away from the carriages. Traffic control on the highway was better than most, which ant only a tiny chance of being run over. They weren’t even the most dangerous things on the roadway.

The ground shook as it passed, each step making the earth jolt for yards around it. A loose ring of people in red and silver robes of the artificer guilds stood around it, both to keep people away from it and probably guide it.

Steam hissed from eight pipes mounted on its back, and from its joints as well, spewing into the sky. Eight thick tal legs were in constant motion, only four on the ground at any one ti. The body resembled a drider, a large humanoid torso in the center of a spider-like body of tal. Probably what had inspired the design to begin with.

It moved slowly, which was a surprise. I’d seen a similar device do a race against a horse and keep pace the entire track. Well, it did well until the track curved. Then the automaton plowed through a wall instead.

I eyed the circle of artificers again. Were they testing keeping it at a walking pace and under directions?

A pipe emitted a burst of steam accompanied by a squeal. Everyone else in the vicinity and I decided the artificers could use more space. Hundreds of feet of space, in fact.

The automaton was out of my sight before I heard wood being smashed and yelling. Hopefully, all it had done was smash a coach without hurting anyone inside.

A clock chid in the distance, possibly the Astrologist’s Tower. It chid twice before going silent.

Two in the afternoon? Four hours had passed, too much ti, but I’d wanted to lose as many tails as I could. If any still followed , they were too good for to spot. That was fine. Katheryn Falara had legitimate business here. I was only going where I would need to lose them.

Mind you, it wasn’t hard to track . I was perhaps the only Infernal in the mass of people for fifty feet in any direction.

A hooded cloak only did so much. I was getting glances that turned into stares as I walked along the side of the road. People kept their distance, hands in their pockets to protect wallets and coin purses. As long as they kept to that, there wouldn’t be any problems.

Honestly, I was a little glad to see that response. It was the usual for this area, which ant those marchers hadn’t shifted the city’s overall mood. At least not yet, given enough ti I had no doubts tis outside the Quarter would beco worse. I hadn’t stuck around the Quarter to see if they were marching again.

I took a left onto Landsn, the narrower street a little more cramped. I took so amusent with how far so went to stay away from on the more crowded street.

Not for long. My destination towered ahead, five stories tall and looking like a combination of a church and a hospital. These days, it could claim to be the latter.

St. Lanian’s started as a hospital run and later dedicated to a priestess who cared for the poor and downtrodden. Over ti, it had grown larger, especially as various nobles wanted to be seen as helping the poor. More donations ant more sway with the hospital, until eventually, St. Lanian’s clientele beca much more exclusive.

Oh, there were hospitals dedicated in the saint’s na who did her original work, and there’d been so hoopla when a paladin channeling the Saint’s divine spirit had castigated the hospital as having abandoned the ideals she valued. It had taken so of the shine off the hospital, if not the na.

The front entrances were bustling as always, mostly with visitors and staff, although the occasional carriage ca up with patients. I went to the side entrance instead. Trying to prove to people I actually was on the approved visitor list took ti. So I’d just bribed the usual guard for the side entrance at this ti of day.

By the ti I got there though, it was closed, which was a poor sign. I’d taken too long to get here, which ant not only dealing with hospital staff I didn’t usually interact with, it ant sothing far worse. So of my mother’s relatives might be visiting. Joy.

I usually scheduled around their usual visiting hours, only eting once every few months to handle the finances. As far as they knew, I was a professional associate of their sister’s never to be sufficiently damned child, entrusted by her with money to help pay for half of the fees to keep their sister treated here.

It was a perfectly awkward arrangent for all involved. They knew that the only reason Mother was being treated in such a prestigious establishnt was the money of the family mber they’d exiled, and I had to deal with the family mbers who’d consigned Mother and to the Infernal Quarter. Pleasant interactions every ti, just with an undercurrent threatening to drag the entire conversation to the depths to drown at the slightest misstep.

It also ant I would be dealing with the front entrance after all.

***

Nearly an hour had passed before I’d convinced the gate guards I had legitimate business inside the hospital and was not so manner of delivery person, servant, or other mber of the lower class who shouldn’t dare track mud into the great St. Lanian’s.

The fact I had utterly mud-free hooves didn’t matter. I’d resisted the urge to lift the most obnoxious of the guards’ coin purse with my tail. It had been right out in the open! But I knew who would be the first on the list of suspects.

I’d thought at least past the guards, it would get easier. It had not.

“Are you sure you aren’t the latest coffin delivery person?” the nurse asked again, peering over thin wire-rimd spectacles down at . “Mr. Ferguson has the most peculiar sense of humor, and this matches a joke he pulled last year.”

Oh, yes, the grand joke of an Infernal being on the list of approved patient visitors.

I’d arrived so late an entire shift change had taken place. Which ant nurses who didn’t know , and worse, had not been bribed by .

“I am quite sure I’m not here to deliver coffins. I am here to see Bao Xang, as the representative of her daughter, Lily Xang, to make sure her care is being maintained. If you doubt , you can check with Dr. Martins.”

Not that he liked very much, but I’d trust his professionalism to not pretend I was a deliverer of coffins.

One nurse made a gesture in the corner of my eye, one easily recognizable. There were only so many signs on the streets showing when you thought soone had taken all leave of their senses. I turned my head towards the movent, enjoying the sight of the nurse pretending to do sothing else.

“I can assure you, I’m not here because of a joke. There should be a K. Falara listed as an approved guest?” I asked.

The nurse at least went to check the patient listings instead of yelling for security to throw out. “There is a K. Falara listed, but do you have any way we can identify you as her?”

Ah, the joys of being on the reverse side of the very thing I’d demanded from Gregory Montague. I was quite sure she would not be demanding this of most people who walked in here, but maybe that was just paranoia speaking.

“Dr. Martins can confirm who I am, if you could just fetch him for a second?”

“Dr. Martins is busy with a patient,” the nurse inford . “If you insist, you can take a seat till he’s finished with his current patient. If not, I will have soone escort you out of the building.”

Well, I had no doubts about how friendly that escort would be. I resigned myself to waiting even longer. There were other things I needed to do, like tracking down my three boxes, but trying to force this issue would be the wrong move. Even if their divine sponsor had long ago withdrawn support from this place, they would have holy water to use on .

“Miss Falara?” a too-familiar voice asked.

I froze, then spun around, drawing on my Sculpts. The mask would need to be perfect today.

“Mister Xang!” I greeted him, turning as I pulled on tendons to force a smile. Gingerly, it should be made to look more natural no matter the urge to snap it into place.

Even if I was deserting this identity, there would be no hints to him who I actually was. To call the results of that discovery inconvenient if it happened would be an understatent.

Liu Xang was tall, perhaps six and a half feet tall, with a scholar’s build, and was dressed in a not-so-fancy suit. He wore a scarf despite the warm weather, to hide noose scars I wasn’t supposed to know he had. He returned my smile, warm eyes peering over a set of spectacles. They wouldn’t be so warm if he knew who I really was.

He also was my uncle.