The Homunculus Knight

Chapter 21: Tips and Tricks

“There is an art to death. Knowing how to cut in the space between vertebrae or measuring the proper length of a noose. Everyone must die, but that does not mean they must suffer in the process. Yes, even those who come into our custody deserve a clean death. Our duty is to deliver them to Master Time, not to judge on his behalf. We leave that to the laws of Gods and Mortals” - Words of Executioner Albert of Stonepoint to the Brotherhood of the Axe.

Cole held up the silver coin and felt it hum in his hand. Slowly he waved his arm, feeling in which direction the vibration intensified. Turning to Mina and Alia, who were making similar gestures with the other two silver coins. “East, I think we need to go east.”

Mina nodded, and Alia set out ahead, clutching her silver coin tight. As the Paladin and Priestess trailed behind her, Cat-Eyes looked at the coin. “If this is anything like the tracking charms I’ve worked with, it’ll pulse faster the closer we are.”

Looking at his own coin, Cole watched as it pulsed every second or so, the metal vibrating and emitting a faint glow. It almost seemed like a child's bauble, a crude bit of thaumaturgy meant to entertain. Looking back at the Ivory Tower, Cole wondered if that was how the Lych saw all of this. A children’s game he wanted to spice up. Another way to stave off the boredom that comes with practical immortality and nearly limitless power.

Slowing her steps, Mina muttered a spell and looked at the coin. “No, it's more complicated than that. I think the intensity of the vibration changes as well. Maybe something to do with the spell’s power?”

Clutching the Stargent box under one arm, Cole wished he had more skill with Spellcraft. He’d never been able to learn more than the most rudimentary spells and had been forced to use blood magic to power them. While his newly growing abilities as a Paladin were lessening that shortfall, part of Cole still felt lacking. Something he decided was a side-effect of being a literal product of magic. A fish who swam poorly would have similar baggage.

They kept heading east, following the streets and moving briskly. As Cole paused to check their direction, he got a few odd looks from fellow pedestrians. He must have looked a sight, waving a coin in the air like a parlor illusionist. Once he was certain of their direction, he started moving again. Only noticing then that Alia and Mina were struggling to keep up with his pace. Long legs and superhuman endurance had put distance between Cole and the others.

Upon reaching him, Alia scowled up at Cole. “I want you to know the only reason you’re faster is every part of me aches from the Scouring.”

Alia rubbed her nose to punctuate her point, and a bit of white flaking skin peeled off in the act. Making a noise of disgust, Cat-Eyes looked at her coin. “You’d think the most powerful Magi in the city could have made things more convenient.”

Slowing his pace, Cole remarked. “He probably could. This is probably his way of making the ‘game’ fair.”

Frowning, Alia said. “Fucking what now?”

“Beings with unnatural life spans get bored easily,” Mina said before turning to Cole. “So you think he’s helping us just enough to make things interesting?”

Nodding, Cole elaborated. “He also probably wants these killings stopped out of simple vanity. The Lych considers Vindabon his. Violent ritual murders every week aren’t exactly what you want happening in your prized possession.”

Cat-Eyes scoffed at that. “I think the Elector Prince would dispute his ‘ownership.’ Along with most of the nobility.”

A grim smile split Cole’s lips. “Not publicly.”

Frowning at that, Cat-Eyes pointed back at the Ivory Tower. “Exactly how powerful is this guy? You looked like you were about to shit yourself with him. I’ve seen you fight a literal Demon with less fear.”

Memories of what Cole saw in the Aether around the Lych came back unbidden, and the Paladin twitched slightly. Trying to knock the memories away like a Horse might flies. “Powerful enough to destroy this city and everyone in it. An Arch-Pyromancer or Geomancer can destroy entire towns with a single spell. The Lych is stronger than that, not even counting his Undead nature. It’s why the Temple tolerates him. There's no way to beat him without a nightmarish amount of collateral.”

Mina’s eyes were wide as saucers, and Alia looked a little sick. The trio moved in silence for a little while. Cutting down a side street and following the coin’s pulse. Alia broke the silence once they entered another tight alley. “So we ran into a guy strong as an Ancient Dragon while he was feeding the Pigeons? And… and he offered to help us for shits and giggles?”

Mina and Cole answered at the same time. “Pretty much.”

Alia grumbled something under her breath about missing petty criminals and Direrats. As the Catblood stewed in her complaints, Mina asked, “How do you know all that about the Lych?”

Looking around to see they were alone in the alley, Cole whispered. “Every decade, the Temple reconsiders their options and makes new plans to possibly deal with the Lych. I was present at the last one.”

They exited the alley and followed a busier street. Cole’s newly sensitive noise picked up a new array of smells crowding out the general filth of the city. Boiling fat, thick perfumes, and other more acrid odors caught his attention. As he followed the coin, Cole realized the scents were coming from the same direction. Turning to Cat-Eyes, he asked. “Can you smell that?”

Frowning, Alia sniffed the air. “The Laundry? Yeah. How can you?”

Kicking himself for creating a situation where he needed to lie, Cole bent the truth. “Magical enhancement. I cast it this morning.”

Alia accepted that. “Good spell, if it can match my nose. But what about the Laundry? You think that’s where we are headed?”

Cole nodded and asked. “My coin is vibrating fast enough to numb my hand. So I’m guessing so. Anything you can tell me about this place?”

Dancing her own buzzing coin between her fingers, Alia looked in the direction they were headed. “This isn’t my part of the city. We’re in the Fourth District. Bit more spit-polished than the Thirteenth.” pausing for a second, she added. “But I’d wager we’re headed towards one of the large Laundry yards. Where the stains and sweat of anyone who can afford it is washed out. Knowing the fourth district, probably a lot of work from the Ivory Tower and the like.”

The trio found the Laundry yard soon enough. The coins and smells guiding them. A large wooden gate opened into a courtyard centered around a drain. Streams of soapy water flowed down the dented stone from the surrounding buildings. Clotheslines hung between the structures like motley banners while dozens of workers milled about the Laundry. Cole watched as stocky youths wheeled carts of fresh and soiled fabric in and out of the Courtyard. While steam-boiled laundresses scurried to and fro like ants in a hive of cotton and soap.

Holding out the coin, Cole let his arm drift until he felt the vibrations speed up. Looking at his companions, he nodded. They returned the gesture, and the trio sought their quarry. They made it roughly halfway into the courtyard when a sharp whistle caught their attention. A burly woman with forearms like a pugilist stomped forward. Long gray hair was wrapped in a tight bun, and her face had the worn look of a hard life.

“Oi! What you doing in ma yard?” she barked, voice hoarse and cracked by use.

Cat-Eyes stepped forward, gesturing to her uniform as she did. “I’m City-Warden Alia Cat-Eyes; I’m looking for someone here.”

The chief Laundress bristled. “None of mine be causing trouble. You sniffing the wrong place, Catblood.”

Alia raised an eyebrow at the Laundress's word choice. Ready to respond with even more choice words. Cole stopped her before she could. “We don’t think the person we’re looking for has done anything wrong. In fact, they might be in danger.”

The Laundress frowned. “Who you looking for?”

Cole glanced at Alia and realized the City-Warden was gladly letting him take the lead. “We don’t know exactly.” he said. Then holding up the silver coin Cole asked. “They would have a coin like this.”

The large hunk of silver seemed to only make the Laundress tenser. “None of mine are thieves. I can swear that on both Uncles.”

Trying to make a placating gesture while still holding the coin, Cole said. “We don’t think anything has been stolen. Someone we need to talk to has been… spending these coins. And someone here probably has one.”

Chewing on that like a bar of soap, with an expression to match the act, The Laundress shrugged. “Don’t know nothing bout the coin, but you can go poking about. Just don go making a mess.”

The trio moved past the Laundress and towards the back of the yard. The vibrations were near constant now; they were close. A door to one of the buildings swung open, and a huge cart creaked out into the open. Pushing the wagon of laundry was a wiry young man with gaunt cheeks and greasy brown hair. Holding the coin up, Cole felt it nearly jump out of his hand. The noise and glow of the coin caught the worker's attention, and he looked to Cole and then Alia.

Shock, surprise, worry, and finally, fear cycled behind the worker's eyes. Raising his hand, Cole started to say. “Have you seen a coin like-”

He was cut off by the laundry cart being shoved into him. Cole stumbled back from the surprise blow and caught a flicker of movement as the worker bolted. Cat-Eyes hissed in anger and shot after the fleeing worker. Dropping the Stargent-lined box, Cole charged after Alia and their quarry.

The worker ducked into the space between two of the laundry buildings. His pursuers enter the alley just in time for an unfastened drying line to smack into Alia. Spitting like a furious feline, Alia fought her way out of the wet sheets covering her. Mina stopped to help, but Cole just kept up the chase. Rounding the next corner, Cole heard a clang and a splash as a great vat of wash water was upturned into his path. A deluge of hot, grimy water sluiced down the alley. Cold stone met the water, and thick vapor was the result. Ignoring the stinging heat of the steam, Cole kept going. Boots splashing through centimeters of near-boiling water.

Bursting through the steam cloud, he found the courtyard wall and caught the barest hints of someone slipping over it. Running full bore towards the two-meter wall, Cole lept and gripped onto the stone. His new strength carried him up and over the red brick with ease. Landing on the other side he glanced around for the worker. Cole was in an empty sidestreet, no sign of the Greasy-haired youth.

Taking a deep breath, Cole smelled hints of soap and bleach to his right. Pushing in that direction, he followed his nose and the coin. Exiting the sidestreet, he found himself on a larger road. On the opposite side, Cole saw Grease-hair running fast as he could for another alley. Charging forward, Cole dodged pedestrians and even a horse-drawn wagon. Reaching the other side of the road, Cole sucked in more air, sifting through the city's smells. Even if Grease-hair could outrun him, Cole had the nose of a bloodhound or a wolf…

Making it into the next alley, Cole saw Grease-Hair barreling down it not fifteen meters ahead. The laundry worker looked back just for a moment, and terror contorted his face. Frowning, Cole redoubled his efforts. Why was Grease-hair running? What was he afraid of?

Grease-hair turned abruptly at the next corner and overturned a pile of crates into the path. Grinding his teeth in annoyance, Cole jumped over the pile and tried to keep up. He was faster than Grease-hair but didn’t know this place and couldn’t make turns as easily. Advantages the laundry worker seemed happy to use. He zig-zagged between buildings in a messy pattern, forcing Cole to keep changing directions and avoiding obstacles.

Forcing his legs to move faster, hoping he could outlast Grease-Hair, Cole shot into the next alley just in time to hear a loud clang and thunk. Grease-hair had been knocked on his ass by a swung Stargent box. Mina and Cat-eyes had been waiting for Grease-hair and greeted him with blunt trauma. Coming to a stop, Cole looked down at his quarry. Who was currently trying to figure out what planet he lived on. Then up at Mina and Cat-eyes. “Good work! How’d you cut him off?”

Only then did he notice Cat-eyes was puffing from exertion, sweat beading on her forehead, while Mina was bright red. Her cheeks and ears matched a ripe strawberry. Grinning, Alia nodded at Mina. “Combining our talents. I’m faster than you, uninjured, and I know the city layout. Mina put a nice little pain-relief spell on me, so I could run like normal. Then I carried her here and cut off our little mouse.”

Glancing at Mina, Cole saw the young Priestess playing with a lock of short hair and doing everything but look at Alia. Even an oblivious fellow like him could see Alia had swept Mina off her feet in more ways than one. Forcing the amused grin from his face, Cole looked down at Grease-hair. The laundry worker was coming to his senses and looked utterly terrified.

Shaking slightly, he rasped. “P-please don’t hurt me! I’ll have the money! I promise! Tell Rat-Teeth I just need a little more time!”

Confused, Cole glanced at Alia, who frowned in understanding. For his and Mina’s benefit, she said. “Rat-Teeth is a Ghoulgiver. Bad loans and cruel deals are his business; he preys on desperate people. Guess our friend here is one of those unfortunate ones.”

Leaning down over the frightened worker, Cole said. “We are not bad bankers or enforcers. Why’d you think we were?”

Glancing at Alia, the worker hissed. “A Guard alongside a Cleaverman like you? Thought you was here for my skin! You to chop me up, her to make sure I never found.”

Cat-eyes actually laughed at that. “I should break a finger for suggesting I’m for sale. But the fact he took one look at you, Cole, and thought you were a paid killer is pretty funny.”

Grimacing, Cole remarked. “I’m glad you find it amusing, Alia.” looking at Grease-hair, he asked. “What’s your name?”

Nervous eyes flicked around the alley for a second before he answered. “I’m Antony. If you aren’t here to kill me, then what do you want?”

Holding up the vibrating coin, Cole asked. “Do you have a coin like this? We have some questions about it.”

Setting his jaw, Antony spat. “I didn’t steal it!”

Cole raised an eyebrow. “Never said you did. May we see it?”

Those same nervous eyes looked to Cole’s waist, where his axe was buckled. The sight seemed to force some cooperation. Antony reached into his pockets and fished out a large gold coin. Alia whistled at the sight.

“Makes sense you ran. If I didn’t know more, I’d assumed you did steal that. Not the sorta thing you want a Guard or Thief-in-law to find.”

Antony nodded jerkily at that, and Cole plucked the coin from the Laundry worker's hand. Cole’s own silver piece buzzed violently for a second and stopped. Seeming content that its target was in Cole’s grasp. Flipping the bent piece of wyrm-gelt between his fingers, Cole asked. “How did you get this? Even if you stole it, we don’t really care. We just want to know the source.”

Eyes never leaving the coin, Antony said. “If I tell you, can I keep the coin?”

Alia laughed and clapped Mina on the back. “I think you knocked some sense out of him with that hit.” Squatting down, Alia looked Antony in the eye. “No, you can’t, but in exchange for it and information about it, we’ll save your life.”

Eyes wide, Antony sputtered. “But, but I earned it! He gave it to me as a tip!”

Taking the coin from Cole and examining it, Alia remarked. “Didn’t you hear that whole bit about us saving your life?”

Frowning, Antony hissed. “You just saying that to scare me!”

Going over and picking up the Stargent box, Cole fished out the large gold coin and held it up. “This was found on a man whose heart was ripped out, and his soul devoured.” Putting it back inside, he held up the silver piece and turned to Alia. “Didn’t you say something about them having to scrub dried blood off one of these?”

Cat-eyes nodded. “Aye, that was mine,” holding up her coin. “It was in the fifth victim's blood. Probably why the killer didn’t retrieve it.” gesturing to Mina, she continued. “Her coin we found lodged in between the cobblestones nearby” then, pointing at Cole’s, she finished. “His we just found in a hidden pocket of another victim’s corset.”

Color drained from Antony, and he looked about ready to be sick. A nervous gulp escaped the sheetmover, and he said. “I was at a Gryp Game two nights ago. A nobleman wanted someone to do a few errands for him. I did, and he gave me the coin in exchange.”

Gryps were distant, distant relatives of Griffins. Looking like a mix between a feral cat and a goshawk. Known for their speed, viciousness, and unpredictability, they’d recently been taken up by the baiting circuit. With many cities underbelly enjoying Gryp games. Where two or more of the creatures compete for a kill. A bloody affair where chickens, mice, and the like are torn apart by starved Gryps for the enjoyment of a betting crowd.

Face wrinkling in distaste, Cole resisted the urge to spit in disgust. Cruelty to animals was one of the gray areas the God’s had difficulty judging. An unfortunate side effect of Humanity’s history of hunting and keeping livestock. The Gods did not punish the ancient hunters of Sutu who chased Antelope until their hearts burst. Or those early Qabsuians who culled aggressive rams until they could do with their flock as they pleased. So bloodsports like Gryp Games continued as one of the world’s petty evils.

The Paladin had been forced to watch a few Gryp Games years ago. A rather unimpressive Necromancer had been using his magic to fix games and get more ‘use’ out of favored Gryps. Aside from the pointless cruelty, the whole affair had been a sick farce. Ending poorly for everyone involved. Cat-Scratch-Fever, courtesy of a necrotic Gryp-Ghoul’s talons, wasn’t anything to laugh at. The fact Antony attended such games earned him Cole’s dislike.

“What sort of errands?” he asked. Trying to stay courteous about the whole thing.

Antony shook his head for a second. “I was kinda drunk. Don’t really remember. I think I just grabbed him drinks and watched his spot while he pissed. The sorta stuff Nobles can’t be bothered with.”

Sighing in annoyance, Cole tried for more details. “What did the noble look like? Surely you remember that?”

Shrugging, Antony grunted. “Tall, but not as tall as you. Kinda thin with good clothes. Didn’t look at him much; nobles don’t like it when you do that.” pausing for a second, Antony snapped his fingers as another detail bubbled up. “He had a cough! I remember that he kept hacking all the time. It made my sister scared. She thought he might have been sick.”

Frowning, Alia asked. “Your sister? She was with you at the Gryp fight?”

Antony looked momentarily uncomfortable. “She’s ten; I bring her sometimes. Better than leaving her alone at the tenement.”

Mina started to ask some valid questions about Antony’s family and their situation, but Cole cut her off. “A cough? He had a cough. Was it wet or dry?”

Confused but unwilling to disobey Cole, the sheetmover said. “Dry? Kinda like he had something stuck in his throat. I thought it was why he kept telling me to get him drinks.”

Cole and Alia exchanged a knowing glance while Mina asked. “So your sister lives with you? Where are your parents?”

An increasingly uncomfortable Antony snapped. “I told you what you wanted to know! Can I go now!”

Shaking his head, Cole pulled Antony to his feet. “You are in danger. Until we know more, you should be under our protection.”

Spluttering, Antony asked. “In danger? Because I got this fucking coin?”

All three of his pursuers nodded. Handing Antony’s gold coin to Mina, Cole asked. “Can you see if the tracking spell is still active?”

Taking it, Mina whispered an incantation and focused on the coin. A slight thrum of power escaped the Priestess, and she blinked away silver tears that boiled away into nothingness. “The spell is active. I don’t know if I can reverse it and find the caster, but I bet someone at the Temple could.”

Antony started to ask frantic questions about this tracking spell and the danger he was in. But was mostly ignored as Cole bent down to whisper with Alia. “The noblemen who paid him had a cough. Like the type you get from mold exposure.”

Nodding, Alia asked. “Wouldn’t it be worse than a cough, though? You acted like we’d all die if we left the Warrens before the Demon died.”

Shrugging, Cole made an uncertain gesture. “Dragonbloods have a resistance to most diseases and illnesses. Besides, we don’t know how much he was exposed to or if he got treatment for it. We’ll need to ask around and see if any of the Nobility are having coughing fits, but that’s a whole other knot of snakes to unravel.”

Going over to the upset Antony, Cole grabbed his arm and started dragging him out of the alley. The laundry worker tried to protest and pull away. He’d have better luck trying to stop an ox. Ignoring the man’s struggle, Cole said. “We’re taking you to the Guard Tower. But first, let’s retrieve your sister. Where can we find her?”

Planting his heels in the ground, Antony failed to slow Cole at all. Filled with angry impotence, he spat. “I’m not telling you shit till you explain what’s going on!”

Pocketing the coins, Cole held up a hand and showed two fingers. “Two more questions, and then I’ll explain what you need to know.” Antony protested, but Cole ignored his complaints. “First, do you work nights? Second, do you regularly visit a minor shrine or similar?”

Confusion pulled the fight from Antony, and he answered. “Yeah, sometimes. I do extra shifts when coin is scarce.” frowning, he added. “I go to Gaetano’s corner before any night out.”

Cole looked to Cat-eyes for an explanation. “Gaetano’s corner is a beggar shrine of luck and gambling. Gaetano is a… questionable Saint of Uncle Trickster if I know my theology.” She looked to Mina, who nodded in confirmation that she was correct. Cole idly noticed it was the first time Mina had managed to make eye contact with Alia since his arrival.

Digesting all this information, Cole looked Antony in the eye and said. “I am a Paladin of the Tenth Temple. Alongside my companions here, I am hunting the murderer stalking your city. The one the news-criers are calling the Heart-Stealer. That coin you have matches the ones we’ve found on previous victims. The killer is likely targeting you. So to save your life and stop the murderer, you will come with us and cooperate.”

A barrage of different emotions crossed Antony’s face. Confusion, shock, horror, fear, and mounting dread. All while holy terror gripped his heart in a frigid vice. It was a look Cole was almost used to by now. Something about him overwhelmed people when he acted as a Paladin. He never knew if it was some magic woven into the mantle or just generations of stories having an effect. Either way, Cole’s grip on Antony’s arm was the only thing that kept him standing.

Gently, Cole tried to keep the man standing. He disliked thesleazy washworker but not enough to deny him basic decency. Finding out you were being targeted by a ritual killer wasn’t something easy to learn. So Cole let Antony sort of slump against him for a little bit till he recovered slightly.

Panicked worry shone in Antony’s eyes as he asked. “My sister? You’ll keep her safe, too, right?”

Cole was about to say they had no reason to think she was in danger. But that fact could wait for later; right now, the sad man in Cole’s grip needed something else. “Yes. You will both be protected by the city and temple until the threat passes.”

They collected Cass, Antony’s sister from the nearby school. A small wooden building where local children learned a little of the world on the City’s coin. The girl was thin with dark auburn hair and nearly started crying on seeing Cole. But the presence of her brother and a kindly Mina calmed her down.

Alia whistled up a carriage, and they returned to the thirteenth district. Cole was forced to sit with the driver while the other four rode inside. He didn’t mind as much as the driver did. The heavy-set man kept flicking glances away from his horse to the scarred giant taking up much of his bench.

Staring out at the passing city, Cole saw signs of reconstruction and returning normalcy. The steady murmur of urban life and the clip-clop of the carriage’s horse did little to intrude on his thoughts. Finding Antony had been good and would hopefully lead them to the killer. Even if it didn’t, denying the killer, another victim was worth it.

Glancing back at the carriage interior, Cole mused on Antony. While collecting his sister, Cole had gotten more of the worker’s story. The man was apparently a chronic gambler in debt to some bad people. He also tried to look after his half-sister since their mother died. He’d been sixteen when that responsibility was thrust on him. Robbing him of whatever meager future he might have once had. A child forced into a role he wasn’t prepared for and coping in poor ways. But Antony was no longer a child. He was twenty-two (but looked closer to thirty) and had all the burdens and vice you’d expect from an adult.

Looking out across the city, Cole thought about how such stories were bitterly common. Not everyone over eighteen is an adult. Many are just children who got old. Still, despite his failings and how he’d been failed, Antony was entitled to his life. The killer wouldn’t steal anyone else’s time; Cole would ensure that.

They arrived at the Guard Tower soon after. Cat-eyes taking Antony and his sister to one of the small sleeping chambers in the Tower's upper levels. While Mina had a message sent to the Temple of Mother Earth. Antony was apparently on the edge of malnourishment, while Cass generally needed to be looked at by a skilled healer. Leaving Cole alone in Iron-Teeth’s ‘war room.’

Setting down the Stargent box and the coins, Cole pondered his next step. Getting someone to reverse the tracking spell would be important. The sooner, the better; Cole didn’t know how the spell worked and was already worried the caster had cut it. If they saw a potential victim headed into a Guard Tower? Doubtful they’d keep the spell. Maybe they should move the coin somewhere else? Set it up as bait?

Thinking on this, Cole let out an annoyed sigh. How did he keep getting tied up in these sorts of messes? He was meant to be out in a forest somewhere hunting a Ghoul or Ghost, not playing at Watchmen for a beleaguered city. Reaching for his amulet, Cole played with the cold metal. No matter how much he complained, he was part of this mess. Sworn to help solve the murders and end the senseless death. Thinking of the riot the killings had caused and his encounter with a Demon. Cole wondered how much more could be tangled up in all this?

As an answer, he felt a cold tug in his chest pushing him towards a nearby shelf. Looking at it, Cole saw several notebooks sitting in a haphazard pile. Reaching out he ran a finger along the books until a cold spike went through him. Stopping his hand on the book he was touching, Cole pulled it from the pile and opened it. The text was Iron-teeth’s notes on the victim’s personal lives.

Skimming it, Cole muttered to himself. “Ann Eder, first victim. Prostitute by profession, thirty-one years old. Mother to a single boy, now at the City Orphanage.” scribbled in Iron-teeth’s cramped hand in the margin. ‘Boy’s arm was broken recently, healed badly.’

Frowning, Cole kept reading. “Josef Aigner, second victim. Prostitute and nineteen years old. Ran away from home. Father a violent drunk? Younger siblings still with Father?”

“Victim three, Lana Klammer. Page by profession, twenty-three. Frequently visited her much younger sister at the family farm in east Norica.” flipping through a few pages, Cole found other details that stood out. “Klaus Kress, thirty-six. Eighth victim, Tanner by trade and father of two. Estranged from wife and children.”

Cole read through the text and checked the other notebooks. Seeing a pattern, he was surprised Iron-teeth had missed. The victims all had bad family relations. Estranged parents, unwanted children, and siblings they were forced to care for. That sort of thing. Frowning, Cole wondered if broken families were just that common, and he was reading into this. After all, the notebooks had carried plenty of other details about the victim's schedules, employers, and everything else Iron-teeth could write down. But something about the family connection stuck out to Cole. He’d been pushed towards it by his God and Cole knew better than to second guess such things.

A knock at the door pulled Cole from his thoughts. Alia entered the room and gave him a worried look. “The last person I saw reading those is at the Temple with a cracked heart. Let's not repeat the Captain’s example, shall we?”

An amused snort escaped Cole, and he asked. “How are Antony and Cass?”

Cat-eyes shrugged. “Scared, worried, and confused. But I think the Priestess Mina got is helping.”

Lips quirking in a smile, Cole asked. “So… about Mina.”

Alia scoffed. “Hells no. I’m not having that sort of talk with you, Cole.”

Shrugging, Cole channeled Natalie a little. “I’ve rarely seen a woman as flustered as she was after you carried her like a princess. Something to think about.”

Narrowing her eyes, Alia snapped. “Why are you, of all people, trying to play matchmaker?”

Cole’s smile waivered slightly, but he kept it on. “Because I think you both deserve any happiness you can find. And as someone who's just recently graduated from awkwardly dancing around a possible relationship, I recognize the signs.”

Alia flipped him a rude gesture, and Cole laughed. Hiding his own bewilderment. In truth, Cole was surprised by his own words. He liked Cat-eyes and Mina; they were good people who might be better ones together. So on some bull-headed instinct, he’d butted in and offered his own opinion. Hoping to push events in a happy direction. Perhaps Natalie really was having an effect on him?

A second knock came at the door then. Alia took the distraction and opened it. Finding a tired looking Guard-in-training standing there.

“Sorry to bother you City-Warden. But we have a Noble downstairs demanding to speak with the Paladin.”

Cole exchanged worried glances with Alia, and they set off. Cat-eyes asked. “Give me details, Jonas.”

Jonas complied. “She just came in a few minutes ago. With her whole entourage. Saying she wanted to speak with the Paladin.”

Frowning, Cole asked. “She?” then added. “How’d she know I was here?”

“Baroness Patrizia DeMello, as she is happy to inform us,” answered Jonas. “Apparently, she just visited the Temple, and they said you were here.”

Pausing for a second, the youth gathered some courage and asked Cole. “Is it true you killed a Demon with Captain Iron-teeth?”

Alia scoffed. “Bloody bits, Jonas, you know better than to be poking about like that.” then after a pause, added. “And the rest of us helped, not just the Captain.”

Cole nodded. “We did. The Demon is gone, and its corruption burned from beneath the city.”

Something like awe and fear colored the trainee’s face, and Cole resisted the urge to smile. It was better than the usual fright he seemed to inspire. They reached the Towers waiting room shortly after and found the Noblewoman in all her opulent glory.

The Baroness was clad in violently colorful cloth that had so many layers and ruffles it reminded Cole of some artisan cake. As for herself, the Baroness was a woman of average height, maybe forty or fifty in age. Good breeding (or cosmetic magic) had aged her well. With long blond hair done up in an elaborate braid and tasteful makeup decorating her face. At either side of her was a Man-at-Arms, in sharp, if practical, uniforms. A small gaggle of attendants waited behind the Baroness while a pair of child-sized Golems carried the trailing bit of her dress. Altogether it made a display teetering between impressive and ridiculous.

Upon seeing Cole, the Noblewoman did the last thing Cole expected. She smiled and came over to hug him. The Men-at-Arms tried to stop her to no avail, and Cole just stood there as arms covered in layers of expensive fabric wrapped around his torso.

“Oh, the Hero of the City! The Paladin who saved us from a Demon and ended a massacre! I’m so happy to finally meet you in person!”

Trying to find his words, Cole blinked away, confusion as the Baroness let him go. “Uhhh, thank you, my lady. What, what do I owe the pleasure?”

Lessons in decorum he’d thought forgotten snapped into use. The pageantry of the Aristocrat digging up old training in Cole. Smiling and returning to her guards, Lady DeMello said. “You are polite for one so rough-looking! I’m now certain this is a good idea!”

Clapping her hands together, she continued. “First, I wanted to thank you for saving my darling boy. If you hadn't intervened, Little Jaerd might have gotten terribly sick from those awful tunnels.”

That spurred Cole’s memories. Jaerd DeMello had been one of the two young nobles he’d encountered in the Undercroft. The Paladin wondered what in the World’s Name the boy told his mother? Whatever it was, it probably wasn’t that Cole had caught him in a youthful tryst while half-drunk.

“I’m happy to help any way I can, my Lady. But I must ask, is there any other reason for you spending your time on me?” As he spoke, Cole caught a glimpse of a sniggering Alia out of the corner of his eye. She apparently found his manners amusing.

The Baroness didn’t notice or care about Alia’s reaction. Focused totally on Cole. “I’m here to invite you as the Guest of honor to the Solstice Ball of Vindabon!”

Decorum training so easily pulled up, fell away as Cole answered with “What?”