Infernal Investigations

I woke up with the sun's rays touching my face. I blinked my eyes, feeling the warmth of the morning on me. Pushing myself up a little, stretching out my arms as I yawned, more muscles stretched as my fins pushed out. Still felt strange, but not bad. Pleasant even, as the warmth touched every bit of my new skin.

No night terrors. No disturbed sleep. No half-siblings lurking inside my shop waiting to attack me verbally.

Well, I shouldn't dismiss that third option just yet. The day was still young, and Melissa was under my roof.

My tail shoved the covers off of me, enjoying the warmth as I got up. I'd gotten a plain white wrapper on, resigning myself to an eventual teasing from Tagashin over still not wearing her gift. Hopefully, she wasn't the kind to spy on people as they slept.

I moved to my window, squinting a little as I yawned. Still very early, early enough that the sun just peeked over the horizon. I pushed the window open, and a blast of cold air greeted me. The cold brushed my skin, again not sinking deeper into flesh as I looked out.

It had finished snowing last night, and now the rooftops across the street were blanketed. The street, too, although you could see where some early birds had shoveled paths through it. No one on this street had the money to waste salt on clearing it, especially when it was only a couple of inches.

The dark clouds still gathered up above, threatening to make it more than a couple of inches. For now, thought nothing fell from the sky, except the occasional bird, gargoyle, or other aerial creature relieving itself.

I gave those dark harbingers of snow a closer look. The clouds were localized to the city, the horizon clear to let the sun shine through. Curious. Probably a localized weather effect, which meant Her Majesty had decided on snow for today. Or some enterprising mage was about to get a painful reminder about how only Her Majesty decided the weather.

A few of my neighbors who were out had looked up at the sound of my window open, and were quickly pretending they hadn't noticed. A couple of children gawked before being ushered inside by worried parents, red and yellow eyes looking worriedly my way for brief seconds.

They weren't the only ones out, I thought irritably as I spotted a dwarf across from my house, pretending to read a newspaper. A pair of humans down the street waiting on the corner, not even trying to be subtle.

Oh, there could be Infernals that Intelligence had recruited among those keeping watch, but assigning non-Infernals was a statement of presence. One that my neighbors could pick up on, giving the wide berth they were giving them.

I was really regretting not participating in the weekly business meetings at the general store on the end of the street now.

Yeah, that was a long-term issue. Not one that I could blame them for. The devil hadn't gotten out of my house, true, but it easily could have. And it had just been the climax to the last few days. Seeing non-Infernals keeping a watch on my house after probably wasn't helping either. And given how this was one of the better places in the Quarter, no one would want to leave. Not if I could be made to leave first.

Unfortunately for them, I needed a place to live for now and had no desire to relocate somewhere else. Not for right now.

Those thoughts somewhat ruined the pleasant feeling of the cold. I pulled back inside the room. Priorities. That could wait, for now. The four people I'd hoped had stuck around had not.

I could hear someone moving around downstairs, the clack of boots on my floor reaching my enhanced ears. I'd hoped to get up before the rest of them, but it looked like some of them were also in the mood for an early morning.

I got changed, pausing when I spotted a letter on my desk. Just a quick thing from Samuel Voltar. I was to consider today a day off. If I wanted to help the investigation, there would be someone waiting at the other Voltar's house to direct me. Meanwhile, Tagashin, Voltar, and Dr. Dawes would all be busy today. Oh, and the two ritual circles were gone, moved to an undisclosed location.

Hmm, moved to be safer or just because Samuel didn't want the risk of me sucking up the souls held within?

I drummed my fingers idly. Had another murder occurred? Or were they just following up on the list? Attempting to bench me in preparation for my hinted suspension from this case, or just trying to actually give me a day of rest?

It didn't matter. I had solutions to all of those. But first, I needed to see which of my planned minions would be with me for this one.

Okay, minions was perhaps too belittling. Compatriots. But still, something to check on.

Coat, trousers, shirt, ones without too many holes in them from the fights I'd been in. I needed to see a tailor soon, or at least sew some patches on as I clopped on down my stairs.

My shop was still a wreck. Intelligence had been nice enough to clean up all the broken glass and some of the insect corpses. Not all of them, as I idly avoided stepping on an oversized centipede. The wrecked furniture and burn marks were still around, although the Diabolism was done, as my skin felt like something lightly dragged across it.

Priests of Tildae. I forced myself not to wince at the smell, my nostrils smelling something lightly acidic as they took in the blessed air.

Tolman was in the middle of the wrecked floor of my shop, shadowboxing, boots moving among the wreckage as he dueled an imaginary opponent.

His practice hasn't hit any of my display cases. Well, the shattered remnants from the fight that had torn the front of my shop to shreds.

At least the exterior had been boarded up to keep too much warm air from escaping.

"Good morning, Tolman," I said as I came around my counter. "Did you decide to stay the night?"

I hadn't been in any condition to tell what had happened after I'd gone upstairs. Changing before bed had been the limit for me before falling asleep.

"No," he said, throwing a couple more jabs as he danced among the wreckage. "The Intelligence agents outside recognized me and let me in. You've got two of them on your doorstep. In addition to a bunch of them not being subtle at all across the street."

"I know, I saw them from my window," I replied, leaning against my countertop, tail idly sweeping an oversized roach's corpse off of it. Euggh. "It looks like your arm has healed up nicely?"

My register had been shattered, although someone had piled up coinage next to it. Not as much as had been in there when I'd last closed up. I was not going to even attempt to figure out if any of it had been pilfered by opportunistic Intelligence agents or just hidden among the wreckage.

"Feels about the same as before," Tolman answered. "Whatever that Barnes is, pretty powerful. Gonna have a doctor check it out, but I think it healed without any issue."

I felt the metaphorical jab in that, about as hard as the actual ones he was throwing. A couple of months ago, he'd be seeing me to check up on that. And that hadn't been an unaimed lunch that hit me by accident either.

I'd prefer talking later, not now, but I could hardly say no. It had been the plan all along, just not right this second.

"I could always look it over," I offered. "I realize things have been…tense between us, but I hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable? And-"

"Wearing Katheryn today," Tolman observed as he continued practicing his jabs, and I bit back a sigh.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"Guilty as charged," I said, leaning my elbows against the countertop. "This isn't just a mask, though."

"Feels like a mask," he observed lightly, but I could practically hear the coiled-up tension just beneath the surface of that.

Cut to the chase or work my way around it? No, no more dancing around the issue. When you let something fester for so long, you lance it, clean the wound, no matter how painful, and hope it heals well.

"I'm sorry," I told him somberly, keeping a respectful distance, my tail wrapping around one of my legs so it wouldn't thrash about. "For what I said last time you and I were under this roof. For thinking you betrayed me. For accusing you of that and throwing you out."

He stopped the shadowboxing, letting it come to a halt as he stared at me, arms crossing over his chest.

"You know how much it hurt?" he asked. "When you've spent your entire life feeling like you're suffocating? Trapped and unable to get free? And then when someone comes along and helps me breathe, helps me finally be me? And then never seemed to realize what they'd done?"

I winced as he stared at me, and behind that iron gaze was hurt, genuine and deep.

Perspective. I'd never seen what I'd done as anything but the cost of joining their plan to get out. Never put any more weight on it than that. And never imagined that he hadn't done the same.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I..I don't know what to say to make this right."

He breathed out, some of that grief draining away along with the sigh. "I thought you'd get it. You've biosculpted yourself as a man when in the Flame, I thought you would have felt the same."

I frowned. "It never felt…how did you put it? Suffocating. It just felt like being."

It was just another set of skin to wear, sure it had it's differences, but it had never felt like I was being strangled.

Tolman seemed like he wanted to say something about that, then changed his mind. "The apology is appreciated, but it doesn't wipe the slate."

"I know," I muttered. And I wasn't a fool enough to try and bribe my way back into his good graces.

"The mask," he said, changing the subject.

"It's a…crutch?" I said uncertainly. "I'm trying to improve, to be better than I am currently, and to be honest, I question how much those masks are masks and more how it's just…choices. Saying my brother was spouting nonsense to try to get something from others with a false philosophy is very tempting, considering what else he lied about."

"You should see one of those psychologists," he told me seriously. "Arsene was talking to me about them, saw one advertising in the papers. Claims to be able to solve all kinda issues one might have, and no offense, but if anyone had any-"

"I must respectfully decline," I told him with a polite smile, and his frown deepened.

"Malvia…"

"Listen, it's not that I deny I could probably use some help," I told him. "However, having tried to keep somewhat abreast of as many medical practices as I can, I refuse to be involved in one of the new ways of diagnosing they keep on trying to develop. I go to one of them, even odds they start measuring the size of my head, or they start poking my soul with a silver needle and seeing what colors my aura makes. Never mind the utter idiocy that is using microscopic poison doses and trying to use a body's natural, biological reactions to try and gain insight into how their mind works!"

I realized by the end I had been yelling, and Tolman had even taken a step back.

"I take it none of those work then?" T olman asked.

"The nonsense with the poisons definitely does not," I said, lowering my voice. "The other ones I am doubtful on, but it's entirely possible they have an actual use. They just sound uncomfortable, and I refuse to them. Same for the other ones they're developing. Also, the papers?"

Advertisement in the newspapers sounded dubious, although perhaps I still had some biases from how the Shapechanger incident had been reported. It was a little hard to trust anything that regularly accused you of cannibalism.

"They are very entertaining," Tolman told me. "''sides, they're good practice for reading. And usually if you read all of them, you can get an approximate idea of what happened."

"I will admit that, reluctantly," I said. "If only to justify why I'm paying for what is essentially a bigger, wordier rumor mill."

"I suppose you're at least trying to be better," he said, as much to himself as to me. "It's not wiped things clean but..I'll stick around. Give it a chance."

"More than what I can ask for," I replied. "Do you want me to look at your arm now?"

Tolman extended it, and I nervously pressed a finger to the palm of his hand.

I didn't need any biomancy supplies to just feel, and I cocked my head to side as I went down bones, tendons, veins, feeling out every bit of the arm.

"Complete healing," I told him. "Actually she might have messed around with the tendons a little, but I think it's improved function, not degraded it. I always say go for a second opinion."

"Sure, and have a doctor poke at my arm for ten minutes for the same conclusion," Tolman said. "What is she?"

"Classified," I responded.

"Is what happened to you classified," he said, inclining his head towards the fins on my tail.

I sighed. "I took a few too many steps close to the Hells. Not too far down the path, but enough to have an effect."

"That's putting it mildly. Is your hair just colored silver or is it actually?"

I grabbed a few strands, running them between my fingers. "Colored. There goes making a fortune by using hair-growth aids and cutting it."

"You don't seem too upset?" Tolman said. "I expected at least one rant about how hard it will be for you to hide now."

"I'll figure something out," I replied. "And I had some time to get used to it…It's a long story, so maybe this evening?"

I got a nod in reply.

"So then," Tolman said. "Any particular reason you're trying to rope the four of us into this case? Anything to do with Barnes talking about how you'll likely not have much to do very soon?"

I rolled my eyes. She'd probably done that within hearing of someone who'd tell Samuel. Damnations, Tagashin!

"For members of Intelligence, you two aren't very subtle," he teased, and I bristled a little.

I was the soul of tact and discretion compared to Tagashin.

"We are more like contractors, not true members," I clarified.

"So like street toughs paid to pad out a gang's numbers ahead of a turf war," he said.

"I prefer contractors," I muttered, moving to one of my shattered display cases. "But yes, I am very aware I am more of a blunt instrument than anything else at the moment. Still, that's why I want to sharpen up some."

"Why you asked the four of us to stay," Tolman said. "Think you're gonna have a hard time convincing everyone to stay."

I smiled, cocking my head as I stared at him, and he sighed.

"Yes, clearly I'm on board. Though you get to pay for the wrath of my husband when he finds out what you've roped me into."

"I'm pretty sure I can handle it," I told him. "I could be a very convincing negotiator when I wanted to."

He laughed. "You might want to restrain that optimism some."

"Why?" I replied. "You're going to help me, unless you want him finding out about applying for Holmsteader's fighting pits."

He stilled, opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"Shite. You would, would you?"

"I consider it a moral imperative to inform your husband when you decide to risk your life in the pits," I told him soberly. "After all, he deserves to know about your health. Especially if you want to risk breaking a horn off again."

"It was only the one time," he complained. "Fine, I will help you deal with the ruinous wrath of my husband if only so he doesn't deny me any apple cobbler."

My tail moved off my leg, perking up.

"Arsene makes apple cobbler?"

"You already know your chances of any," Tolman replied.

"Fair, fair," I said, but fairness wasn't preventing my mouth from watering. "As for the others, I have my methods."

He raised an eyebrow. "The priest, I get, even if you also had a falling out with him. He seems a decent sort, and already tied into all of this. And the flirting."

"The what?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. Had Gregory been flirting with me?

"You know what, forget about that. Melissa?"

I could figure it out for myself when that flirting had happened

"Hoping to open her eyes, but for now mostly keeping her aware that her best chance of helping the Flame is aiding this investigation," I said. "She's convinced that Versalicci has nothing to do with this."

"You agree with that?"

No, and there were other things to be said about Versalicci besides his possible complicity, but I wanted the others here for that.

"Maybe," I said. "As for Alice, I do have a plan."

"Please don't get in a relationship with her again," Tolman deadpanned.

I…what? What?

"No, of course not," I protested. "I…you know what, I'm not telling you. So, with that out of the way, did you eat already?"

"Malvia, it's six in the morning. Arsene would kill me if I woke him up, and I can't cook. The only reason the sun is out is because some idiot messed with the weather last night."

"Really? No, never mind, you can tell me later. Let me go get my apron, and I'll cook for us."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"I am hosting. Give me twenty minutes!"

***

Downstairs was just as much of a mess as the ground floor, but the stairs were still intact. I clopped on down, finishing tying the strings of a simple cloth apron. I could just get the one in my lab, but best not to mix them. And using magically treated leather for eggs was probably overkill.

I went to my Diabolism training room, opening the door.

My three guests were still snoozing away, Melissa up against one wall, Alice against the opposite one, Gregory in the middle.

My tail wrapped around an iron rod, whacking it against the doorframe repeatedly. Alice and Melissa were up immediately, hellfire sparking on their hands, while Gregory almost got tangled in a sheet trying to get to his feet.

"Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes," I told them cheerily. "Testing out a new mixture in the stove, so it will be a bit fast, but don't blame me for any more esoteric taste in the eggs."

Three faces squinted at me, bleary and confused under cowlicked hair.

"Are you wearing an apron-"

I slammed the door in their faces, then started humming to myself. Okay, this was going to put a dent in my finances, but nothing compared to what was to come. Maybe I should take up thievery again. Or see how much sketchy alchemy that Intelligence was willing to tolerate.

Samuel Voltar's warning echoed in my mind. Intelligence's support was temporary. Which meant someone was playing a game and trying to make me a piece.

Let's see how far I could flip the board.