Book 2 - Chapter 66 - Introspection IX
I tensed, then let myself relax as I considered the Harrow across from me.
She stared back at me in turn, blood still staining her chin and lips as she idly pushed the corpse of the fey wearing Katheryn Falara's face off to the side. Similar clothes to what I was currently wearing, coat and all, and inside that coat glinted a small arsenal of weaponry. Near a mirror-copy of myself from before the most recent changes to my form, maybe even a little further back. Some of the smaller patches of scales that had come with my diabolism use when dealing with the shapeshifters were missing as well.
I moved a little further away from the table, a wary eye on the knife in her hands. I recognized the style of blade, one imported from the Empire's overseas conquests. Long, nearing three-quarters of a foot, a chunk was removed from the top of the long single-edged knife. It dwarfed the table knife I'd grabbed off the table, currently hidden in my sleeve.
It wouldn't come down to just the blade, but attacking this new doppelganger had too many risks. How hurt could I become in this place? How much of an impact would it have on me when I woke up? How much would it have on me in here, before I had to deal with either the Imp or the diabolism?
"Have a seat," the doppelganger instructed me, pulling a chair of her own out and sitting down fluidly. "Like I said, we need to talk about where your decisions have put us."
I cocked my head to the side, choosing not to answer. Limiting her own mobility. No sign of worry in her face or anywhere else. A firm, authoritative tone. Either very good at bluffing, very arrogant, or very sure she could still handle me if I rushed her.
Kicked off to the side, the body of Katheryn Falara didn't so much as flinch. Had the fey inside been forcibly ejected from my mind? Or actually killed? I doubted the latter. Or more like hoped, since I didn't wish any ill will to the fey.
I didn't pay the body too much attention. No one else in the Hells' Own was either. It was as if nothing had happened…no wait, here came a pair of staff, one of whom started dragging the corpse away. The other had a bucket, probably water and soda, and started spreading tea leaves around before she started scrubbing.
So, my mind wasn't making a fuss about this random act of violence. Instead, it seemed more concerned about cleaning up, as if this was normal.
Well, I couldn't really say it had been an abnormal amount of violence for me.
The doppelganger looked just slightly irritated by now as I'd had yet to say a word to her. Just a tiny little crack in the facade, a twitch at the corner of the mouth as she spoke again.
"Are you done thinking this out?" The doppelganger said flatly. "If you aren't going to stab me in some futile gesture you should know is useless, sit down. We have things we need to talk about."
"It depends on who I'm talking to," I said. "I rather doubt you are another fey, and I know of only a pair of other things lurking inside my head. I'm not inclined to conversing with either of them at the moment."
With the exception of as a delaying tactic, of course. More importantly, I didn't think the blood-stained doppelganger was a creation or form of the Imp or the devil's diabolism. But since she was willing to talk, might as well try to ferret out what she actually was.
"I'm you," she said flatly. "The part of you that actually thinks things through and actually claws back when people decide it's a good idea to lean on you."
"No offense, but knowing what the various parts of me are like, I'll continue to stand," I said drily. "Part of me could mean a lot of different things. I have at least one tenant inside me these days. While they don't normally bother with things this subtle, they could have always decided on a new tactic."
The sad thing was I'm pretty sure the Imp could manage subtlety better than 'Stab someone then bite their throat out mid-conversation'. That sounded far too similar to something I might consider doing.
"Do you need to me to elucidate on various details of our history that the little devil we've let roam around our head has probably not ferreted out from us?" the doppelganger said drily. "Perhaps on what happened when we decided Aunt Diwei could use a salamander snuck into her rooms at night?"
Worth both every burn from that unruly lizard, and every scolding and slap from my relative afterwards, and something I don't think I'd ever mentioned since. I'd perhaps gone a bit far that time. Maybe a little. It wasn't like anyone else had deserved their homes to potentially burn down.
I shrugged my arms, holding my empty hands up, and she didn't seem to react to the lack of a knife. Did she not notice one was missing from the table? Or was she trying to bait an attempt?
I made an act of it, reluctantly sitting down, letting my tail coil around the floor. Lean back just a little, as if discomforted, eyes glancing to see the placement of hooves, tail, and legs underneath. Then back forward, letting my tail slowly start to snake underneath the table. I'd been able to extend it when I tested it earlier. Let's see how far that went.
Meanwhile, I put words to what my mind had concluded when she'd talked.
"You're the mask," I said, meeting her gaze. "The one I made in the Flame because I thought I wouldn't last unless I became something else. Guided and molded at my dear brother's direction."
I couldn't begin to guess how an invented identity and a mindset I'd tried to emulate had become its own independent entity inside my head. Fey magic, and hopefully of the temporary kind.
I had enough things up there already, I didn't need another.
"Does referring to me as a thing make things easier?" the Mask said, expression not shifting as it set the knife down on the table. I ignored it, keeping my gaze on her. "Have you already fallen so far you've decided to ignore me?"
"I've already been talked to a fair bit," I replied. "Most of it is, supposedly, my own mind, so having another part talk to me isn't something I'll dismiss. Just with you, I know where the biases lie. And one whose instructions I made you."
"Yes, which doesn't mean you should distrust every word I say," the Mask said, expression not shifting at all. "Although you actually distrusting people would be progress from this pathetic state you've let yourself devolve to."
I felt the prick of those words, let them pass, and raised an eyebrow.
"Let myself devolve too? Pray tell, who have I suddenly entrusted with so much trust? The bishops? Gregory? No, wait, am I going to get lectured about not letting Alice down in my basement?"
"The fox," the Mask said, a note of distaste creeping into her voice, a sneer starting to form on her lips. "The fox Malvia, who so effortlessly seduced you with a single hug and made you forget everything else she did to make your, our life miserable before then."
Her hand strayed towards where the knife was on the table, but I ignored that, focusing on her eyes. Angry, irritated, but not to the point of starting something. Her other hand was underneath the table. Not too far that it was apparent she was reaching underneath. Holding another weapon, perhaps?
I gestured to Edwards for a refill of my tankard, got a fresh one while the Mask waited stoically for my response.
"I wouldn't say the hug erased everything," I said, then took a sip.
Truth be told, some of what was being suggested did lurk in my mind. It perhaps didn't help Tagashin's fey..friends, servants? Whatever they were, they had been the ones talking to me about constantly anticipating knives in the back. Something that would suit a certain kitsune to make me think if she wanted my trust.
It was right to be a little suspicious, but I had to admit there came a point where I couldn't do that all the time. Maybe not in this specific case, but in general, I couldn't make myself a fortress. The walls had to be lowered at some point.
As difficult, hard, and potentially embarrassing as lowering those walls might be.
"Did it not?" the Mask said. "You already started treating her differently, and her campaign began long before that hug. It began from before the beginning of this case, even."
"Yes, I think that might have had something to do with me threatening to kill her," I said drily, although I knew that after the initial shock, Tagashin could easily have plotted around any future threats on her life. "Even if it isn't, it's not like I blindly trust her."
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"You have from the moment you woke up here," she said flatly. "You took the fox at her word, first strike. In fact, you didn't even trust the fox, you just saw her wink at you out of the sun and took the words of entities that took your form, so two strikes in fact. Did you even spare a thought on if they were the diabolism trying to trick you into falling into it? In fact, did you spare a thought on if there even was diabolism to be a threat? You tore it from your mouth, didn't you? Instead, you just took them all at their word, didn't you?"
"I did," I admitted, meeting her gaze levelly. "Because the alternative was what, exactly? To go running into that door downstairs? Dive into the ocean? Yes, I listened to them before pursuing a path, but that doesn't mean I'm blind. Stumbling around the dark could have been just as dangerous, and at the first hint-"
"You don't pick up on hints," the Mask said with a sigh. "You let emotions cloud it already with Alice, and now you barely do at all. It's a wonder you get anything-"
"Shut up," I snapped, glaring at her. "I don't care how little you think of my ability to notice things. I'm not blind."
"You are," the Mask replied. "You have the capability not to be, you just choose to cover it up because it's less convenient than admitting how many mistakes you've made in who you choose to associate with. Tell me, when did we suddenly become lovers of the Anglean Empire, Malvia?"
I rolled my eyes. "I would hardly call myself its lover, more of a reluctant employee."
"And does that make a difference?" She leaned forward, both hands on the table now, but one gripped the knife, so I didn't move yet. "You help them, for what? A stay of execution from them? Licking their boots and doing their bidding for one more day away from the Headsmen's axe?"
My snaking tail crept slowly forward, a millimeter at a time, to minimize the noise. I felt something brush against it, kept my expression contemplative even as my tail froze. The sensation came again. The slight touch of wings against the tip of my tail fins. The butterfly?
It brushed against my tail's side again, pressing harder against it. I moved my tail in the direction it was trying to push, until it stopped pressing against my tail's side.
Well, I had a guide. Somewhat.
"If it keeps me alive, yes," I said bluntly, letting my polite little smile fade some. "You think I like this? Of course I don't, but it keeps me out of the Hells, where I get to be someone's slave regardless."
She shuddered. "I'm not suggesting you cut your own throat, but there's a point where you have to actually stand for something. Or are you just what he accused you of being, a thug who only cares about staying alive and doesn't care who she kills to stay that way?"
What was left of my smile was glacial. "Well, I suppose if I am such an empty thing, it should be simplicity itself for you to take over, should't it?"
"I don't want control over you, to possess you, to do anything like that because I am you!" she snarled. "A part of you that you lock down with everything else. I want you to actually think again for once, instead of letting you be swept along by emotions and trust in people who do not deserve it, blindly following along because you have no convictions at all. His accusations ring true because it's what you let yourself become. And now this kitsune is threatening to make you even worse, an obedient little pet that nods and does things because now someone is giving her hugs. Have some standards! Or at least you like to pretend you don't, as you serve at the feet of people who treat us barely better than the family you despise treated you! Or is people hating Infernals only important when it affects you?"
I stared blankly at her for a second, digesting that. The crack in her own mask of emotionlessness was a little shocking, but a second of thinking got my answer. The last time I'd thought that way. It also helped distract me from the feeling building in my chest to damn the consequences, lunge forward, and bite her fucking face off for what she had just said. I didn't care? I'd ripped my little veil of safety apart, stopping a fucking conspiracy that would have had the entire Quarter purged if it had its way.
Only because they'd targeted me first, part of me whispered. Only because it threatened me.
Other things were wrong. Tagashin hadn't asked for anything. Yet. And with that one little thought, my treacherous brain was reminding me, it hadn't even been a day and did I really think the kitsune couldn't play the long game?
My claws, I realized, were halfway buried in the table, carving into its oak surface as my hands clenched.
"Oh that touched a nerve," the Mask said caustically. "What, don't like a mirror being brought up for you to look in? Tell me, if you want something else you like to avoid thinking about, was your resentment about the Quarter ever about being Uncle Liu betraying you, or was it because the poor little rich girl finally had to find herself on the street? Tell me was betraying the Flame about what you think you heard, or was it because you knew you could make off with the treasury?"
Don't rise to the bait. It wanted a shouting match, it wanted me angry. It knew me, clearly too well, she knew me too well, and it sprinkled in just enough truths to make it hurt.
"Thought I heard," I repeated mildly. "You want to expand on that?"
"You never got the full story," she replied. "Just leapt on the first thing you overheard."
I paused, claws buried deep, as that echoed around. No one was even moving at this point, the facade my mind had created having fully given up any sign of life.
She was suggesting that I had…overheard something and come to the wrong conclusion, and that somehow, some way, it could be reinterpreted as a way to favor Gio.
"We're pleased with the efforts so far. You're in the position to escalate this?"
"Two weeks time. I'm happy with the first payment. Make sure the rest will come on time, and it'll happen right on schedule. The bolt hole?"
"Being arranged. Assuming you can guarantee the right number of deaths."
"Not an issue. This group's survival has been dependent on stealth. Once people start becoming aware of what's been going on beneath their noses-
A chuckle escaped my lips, quickly turning into a laugh that I couldn't stop as she glared at me.
"I suppose that confirms for certain you're the mask," I said as she glared daggers at me. "Only you would have any loyalty left to the Black Flame."
"Whatever else you can say about it, its leader, its members, who else gave a shite about Infernals?" she said, emotion flooding her voice now, raw and pained.
"Did we?" I shot back. "Or was it just a means to an end and a nice way to make sure the Quarter would hide us when we were done with our heists? Or do you want to cast Daver, Golvar, and Gio as the champions of Infernal-kind?"
"I'd rather say Dylan and Laura were," the Mask said back, trying to regain its composure, but too late. It had cracked, and worse, it knew the flaw too late to take the words back.
"He spent their lives like firewood," I hissed, the table cracking as claws stabbed deep inside it as I tried to keep the sudden fire inside me channeled only through them. "He spent all of us, for a cause he either abandoned or never believed in, so take their names out of your mouth."
"You act like the Flame is his," she snapped back. "The Flame is-"
"A criminal gang known for almost overrunning the city and coasting on the reputation he built for it," I snapped back.
"Where's his bolthole he was promised, if it was all lies and those overheard scraps are the truth?"
"I don't know, maybe he got backstabbed like he did to the rest of us!"
"You don't want to admit it because you fear it's true, but tell me something, Malvia. No convictions, no beliefs, just a long scramble for survival? Is that all this is, another desperate reaching for whatever keeps the thing calling herself Malvia Harrow keep going? Have you finally reached the point where blind trust is what you reach for after how many times it's been paid back with betrayal!"
I paused, no retort coming to mind as I stared at the furious mask.
The thing is, did I even want to do this? What the mask had said, I know the lies that had spawned it, the duplicitous webweaver who had taught me the methods that had created it. Led to its gaining life here.
But were the important parts lies? Biased certainly, but untrue? Some of them lurked in my own mind, and the more I considered them, the more I began to fret.
Was the diabolism real, or just a trick? The Imp? The fey? Was this even anything more than a dream.
I breathed out slowly, forcing it to be slow. Let the tension ease out. It was true, that trust came hard, was difficult to earn, and easy to lose. And that you couldn't always trust your senses. But you had to trust them at some point.
I needed to climb instead of dig at some point.
My tail jolted forward, a 'No' already forming on my lips when she ducked under the table and my tail spasmed as a spike of pain drilled into it. I screamed as it tore down, the dagger in her hand under the table pulling up its length, parting scales and flesh.
"Seriously, did you think I didn't see it?" she said from under the table, wrenching the knife as I bit my lip. "You really have-"
As soon as the back of her head came back above the table, the tankard was in the air. She couldn't even react as it hit her with a crack. A pained grunt, a slight sway, then she tipped forward.
My tail wrapped around the knife's handle, ripping it out with a flash of pain. Blood came forth, enough that I lost my grip on the handle as my tail became slick.
The Mask was recovering fast, moving up from her seat. Even coated in my own blood my tail still managed to wrap around hers, yanking back. She rammed back into her seat, chair tipping over as I pulled her to the ground. The back of her head bounced off the marble floor with an even louder, heavier crack.
I was out of my own chair by now, running around the table. My tail caught on a chair, and I let go of her with it.
She somehow managed to rise, movement sluggish as I wrapped my tail around her torso, shoving her against the ground. I forced her arms apart, knees on her forearms to keep her restrained, table knife against her throat as her jaw opened.
"As hypocritical as it might be for me to say, no throat-biting," I said chidingly. "Pretty sure my hand is just as fast or faster, and frankly, even if we killed each other? I don't want to repeat that swim."
She sighed, a pained, tired thing as she looked at me. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up at me, lip trembling.
"So you'll choose to remain a slave because it's comfortable," she said, voice raw. "I won't see it. End me, if you're going to choose that path."
I sighed, letting the knife ease just a little. "I'm not doing that. You aren't wrong, but I'm not going to get myself killed over the situation I've found myself in."
"Then you aren't even going to try-" Her spiteful yelling came to a halt as I pushed the knife again.
I hated this. I realized how utterly shite I was being if I could only get my side out by being on the right side of a knife. But it's what I was doing.
"Wrong," I said gently. "I will, just not the way you want. And that doesn't make me worthless, no more than anyone else." Maybe. Probably? "But I do want to change, but it doesn't start with treading backwards. But I'm not going to kill you. You are a part of me, a part I have been ignoring, no matter what either of us might have said. So let's discuss helping each other, instead of coercing-"
A sound like glass being ground into shards tore into my ear. I turned, eyes catching a multi-limbed figure, three-faced and hellish, breaking through the barrier of water at the ceiling.
An instant later, that ceiling fell down with her.