The Homunculus Knight

Chapter 36: Links, Laughter and Lies

“The Deeps are clearly not a natural phenomenon; those cave systems span much of the world and defy what we understand nature's laws. No volcano, glacier, buried aquifer, or earthquake could produce them, nor could any known magical force carve them. They are simply too extensive, too random, and too old to be the result of any intellect we know of. But, their presence and the stories recorded in our histories and those of the dwarfs point us towards an obvious, if concerning, answer. An entity or group of entities of incalculable power and age are responsible for creating the Deeps. Entities we do not know the nature, location or motivation of.” - excerpt from Preceptor Ricardo Cetus’s infamous ‘Titan Proposal’

After a small eternity where no words were said and the two vampires simply held each other, Natalie broke the silence. “How the hells are we going to explain this to Cole?”

A small laugh escaped Isabelle. “Having two beautiful lovers who aren’t just willing to share his bed, but each other? He might be a chivalrous gentleman, but he’s still a man. Oh, of course, Cole will be awkward and halting at first, wracked by fears of hurting us or some other sweet but overly cautious sentiment. But once we help settle his concerns, convincing him this will work won’t be too hard.”

Eyes narrowing, Natalie asked. “You’ve put some thought into this…”

Isabelle shrugged. “Natalie, I have nothing to do but stew in bad memories or get lost in thought. Plotting out possibilities involving the two people I have left in this world is a good way to keep sane.”

Wincing at that, Natalie looked at Isabelle; somehow, her teacher and confidant seemed… brighter. The weight of guilt didn’t press on Isabelle like it had. With the unseen load lightened, Isabelle was more relaxed and certain. A tightness of muscle and expression Natalie hadn’t truly noticed before was gone. The cold analytical mask of Magi Countness was shattered, revealing the woman beneath.

Sensing there was still some fragility to Isabelle, but also knowing some matters couldn’t be left alone, Natalie asked. “When did you change your mind?”

The older vampire didn’t flinch; she merely shut her eyes in a sign of tired sadness. “I truly started to have doubts after I was exposed to the Temple, and you protected me. But after the solstice ball, I realized I couldn’t hurt you or Cole like that.”

Slowly nodding, feeling her mind trace over the memories, Natalie said. “That's why you asked for the twelve days after the Heart-stealer was dealt with. You abandoned one plan and moved to the next.”

Isabelle didn’t respond at first, merely bobbing her head in confirmation. Eventually finding her voice, Isabelle asked. “How can you still care about me? I was preparing to do something worse than kill you only a few months ago?”

Raising an eyebrow and wondering why Isabelle was arguing against herself, Natalie said. “I’ve had a suspicion you were planning something like this. It's why I was so jagging, reluctant to let you use my body. That entire time, I expected to be locked away inside my own mind or something equally horrible.”

Thinking about those old fears, Natalie felt a spike of anger go through her. “How far did you get in your original plan?”

Unable to meet Natalie’s eyes, Isabelle said. “Far enough. Our souls are very enmeshed; it's why the psychic link between us is so sturdy. I could probably still replace bits of you with myself, but now that I’ve let the spellwork erode, it wouldn’t be as quiet or clean.”

Eyebrows raising in surprise, Natalie asked. “You mean the magic you were working is still inside me?”

In answer, Isabelle gestured to the mindscape around them. “In part, the more… parasitic parts of the spell are degrading quickly, but the strong link remains. I could break it, but there would be side effects, ones that would predominantly harm me.”

Natalie could physically see Isabelle tense, prepared for her student to demand the link cut. Whatever the consequences of the psychic bridge falling were, they clearly wouldn’t be pleasant for Isabelle.

Weighing her options, Natalie shrugged. “I want to know exactly what this link entails.”

Isabelle nodded. “At its most basic level, it allows us to communicate and reach into each other’s mindscapes easily, but that isn’t much different than a strong psychic bond. Our natures as Vampires and the blood you’ve given does make the connection somewhat unique. It's how I’ve been able to loan you some of my knowledge and skills. Your blood is extremely potent, so by sharing them with me, I’ve been able to stay awake and more cognizant than when Cole traveled alone.”

Hesitating for a moment, Isablle continued. “Our memories have also become slightly connected, as have our consciousness; that’s the part I’ve been working to undo. Because of that, your body and mind are… prepared for inhabitation. I can slip into your flesh and mind with great ease. There isn’t any true psychic bleed between us, but we both have metaphorical keys to the other’s mind. But unlike you, I know where the doors and windows are to take advantage of that.”

Thinking on this, Natalie decided now was as good a time as any to be honest. “I found a few of those doors and windows myself. I poked through some memories and thoughts I shouldn’t have back when you possessed me. It's how I helped you realize the cure could be in two parts. I’d seen pieces of your work on infectious emotion control.”

Shock, outrage, guilt, and eventually sheepish acceptance flashed across Isabelle’s face. “Underestimating you continues to be one of my consistent errors.”

Despite herself, a smirk spread across Natalie’s face, only fading when another mystery was suddenly solved. “Mina’s spell! When she and Alia attacked us in the hallway, the spell was supposed to end any possession; instead, it shut me out! That was because of what you were doing to me!”

Biting one cheek, Isabelle said. “Yes, and the implications are concerning, especially in light of recent events.”

Natalie was confused for a moment, then as she understood Isabelle’s words, her stomach promptly hit the floor. “If you can possess me that easily, and even Master Time’s power couldn’t dislodge you, then… could the Rabisu do the same?”

Isabelle’s pained expression was all the answer Natalie needed. Before the wave of terror and fury building inside Natalie could crest, her mentor grabbed her hands. “I’m sorry for endangering you, but I’ve taken steps to amend my mistakes.”

Seeing the deep sorrow and shame in Isabelle’s eyes, Natalie thought of all the times those red pools were cold, unreadable enigmas. Angry as she was, Natalie couldn’t ignore the vulnerability on display in Isabelle. Seeing her student calm slightly, Isabelle let go of one hand and gestured towards the icy willow containing the Rabisu. “The new bindings will keep your parasite in check until a more permanent solution can be found. As long as the infestation isn’t fed, it should stay dormant.”

Looking at the crystalline tree, Natalie asked. “How did you manage all this?”

Natalie could guess the source of power and wisdom that helped Isabelle enter her mind and seal the Rabisu, but she wanted confirmation. Face twisting in a rictus of disgust, Isabelle answered. “I did what the desperate and foolish have been doing to save those they care for since time immemorial. I made a deal with a Beyond-born intelligence to achieve my goals.”

The venom in Isabelle’s words made it sound like she’d just confessed to selling herself on a red lamp street. Seeking aid from any God, no matter how benevolent, went against everything Isabelle believed. Yet still, she’d swallowed her titan-sized pride and did her best to help Natalie. Not long ago, Natalie wouldn’t have been able to see past her justified outrage and sense of betrayal at Isabelle’s actions to see these other layers to the situation. But the gift time most easily awards to those worthy is wisdom.

“What did Master Time ask of you?” Natalie inquired, unwilling to suffer any more secrets.

A noise close to a growl escaped Isabelle. “He bound me to certain promises. Ironically, including swearing never to steal your body or that of another.”

Natalie slowly nodded, thinking of her argument with Cole about helping Isabelle acquire another’s flesh. It seemed Cole’s patron deity took the time to solve the moral quandary the Paladin found himself in while also protecting the Alukah’s vessel. The way Master Time wove multiple strands together to ensure a favorable outcome was impressive, even if it still rankled Natalie.

But the fact that a deal had to be struck brought another question to Natalie’s mind. “Why did he make demands? Surely preventing me from being possessed is reason enough to help you?”

Lips curling in disgust, Isabelle answered. “Pure pragmatism, I’d wager. I did not know of your condition, only that something was wrong. The Tenth came to me offering its aid in exchange for binding vows. Knowing you were possibly in danger, I didn’t do much to negotiate or press the terms I… I perhaps didn’t do my due diligence before accepting.”

Digesting this, Natalie slowly asked. “You’re saying he scammed you?”

A little of Isabelle’s domineering arrogance returned as she sneered. “It manipulated me, using my emotions and vulnerabilities to get what it wanted.”

Natalie felt laughter start to bubble up inside of her. “He did! He swindled you!”

Refusing to meet Natalie’s eyes, Isabelle cooly replied. “I acted hastily, desperate to help a friend. That deity took advantage of my vulnerability like any common Demon might.”

Unable to suppress the laughter born of relief, surprise, and Isabelle’s expense, Natalie doubled over cackling. Glaring down at her student, Isabelle snapped. “I sometimes forget you're still little more than a child.”

Recovering a little, Natalie put a hand on Isabelle’s arm. “Thank you for coming to my aid; I mean that with all my heart. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t intervened. But, you do have to admit it's still kind of funny.”

Still indignant, Isabelle replied. “A boorish poet once said, ‘Comedy is when tragedy happens to someone else.”

Seeing the annoyance writ on Isabelle’s face, Natalie sighed and kissed her new partner on the cheek. Isabelle mellowed slightly from the affection and spoke in the barest whisper. “Helping you was worth the cost. I have many debts to pay for my sins, and of all my potential collectors, I prefer you.”

Touching the spot Natalie kissed, Isabelle asked. “I take that to mean my confession hasn’t changed your feelings.”

Shrugging, Natalie leaned against Isabelle, head on her shoulder. “It’s strange, but knowing you planned to betray me but couldn’t go through with it is oddly… relieving. I’m still a little angry and probably should be more paranoid that this is some grand manipulation, but I’m not. I trust and care for you, Isabelle, even if that's not the wisest choice.”

Slowly nodding, the former countess said. “Only two people have believed I could be a better person. Only two people have earned my trust and extended their own to me. Only two people have helped me when my world turned to ash. I’m madly in love with one and could see myself feeling similar for the other.”

Feeling a smile spread across her face, Natalie said. “You can be very sweet when you want to.”

Exhaling in what might be a snort of amusement, Isabelle said. “We’ll need to call Cole into the mindscape soon to sort matters out. But till then, there is the more pressing matter of your parasite. The Tenth God was very insistent I inform you that acts of Molek are to be avoided at all costs. It also made reference to limiting how much contact you make with Vampire remains, particularly ash and blood.”

Frowning, Natalie asked, “Why vampire ash?”

Isabelle hesitated before saying. “I don’t fully know, but I’d wager there might be a magically sympathetic link between your parasite and those substances. Certain spells and arcane abilities can take advantage of such metaphysical connections. The parasite might draw power or something else from vampire ash and blood, which is not good. But if you avoid feeding the infestation, the bindings should hold for now.”

Chewing her lip, Natalie remarked. “You are being awfully vague. Is that because of ignorance or the desire to keep secrets?”

Mouth curling in a crooked smile, Isabelle replied. “Mostly ignorance. I have a few theories, but until I’m certain, sharing them wouldn’t do any good.”

Forestalling Natalie’s annoyance, Isabelle held up a hand. “I’m trying to protect you the best I can. Right now, what little knowledge I might offer would do nothing but cause problems. I swear on my soul the moment that changes I will tell you more.”

Natalie grimaced. “I’ve never known ignorance to protect where knowledge could not.”

A sad laugh escaped Isabelle. “Then you’ve been lucky enough to experience the type of ignorance that can be a shield. Please, I know it's much to ask, but don’t pry. This is not just for your good, but my own.”

Now, more than a little concerned, Natalie slowly nodded and started to say something when a familiar taste hit her tongue. Cole’s blood filled her mouth, and Natalie cursed. “Shit, they must be getting worried. Cole’s trying to get my attention; I need to wake up.”

Isabelle put her hands on Natalie’s shoulders and said. “Remember the Tenth God’s warnings, and… remember I’m here for you. Thank you for trusting me in spite of everything.”

Leaning forward, Isabelle kissed Natalie. As their lips parted, Natalie stared into her partner’s eyes, seeing new and unfamiliar vulnerability there. “Thank you for saving me.”

Smiling sadly, Isabelle looked around the mindscape as it faded. “I could say the same.”

Natalie’s eyes snapped open, and she sucked in a pointless breath, nearly choking on the mouthful of blood that called her from the mindscape. Trying to cough and swallow at the same time, Natalie felt exhausted. Lying on her back in the protection circle’s middle, Natalie could have sworn an invisible oxen was atop her. Groaning in discomfort, she felt strong hands touch her neck and then wrists. Blinking away her disorientation, Natalie found Cole kneeling beside her, untieing her hands.

“Are you sure it's her?” said a voice nearby that Natalie slowly realized was Alia.

Cole looked in Alia’s direction, his eyes glowing silver, and nodded. A moment later, the weight of Cole’s amulet left Natalie, and she sucked in a breath of relief. Slowly sitting up, she smiled tentatively at Cole and the others. Putting his medallion on, Cole took her hands, his warmth a wonderful balm on the stiff flesh. “What happened?”

Blinking slowly, Natalie leaned herself against Cole, breathing in the smell of his blood. “Isabelle rescued me.”

Looking up at her knight, Natalie explained the Rabisu’s attack, how Isabelle thwarted it, and that she should avoid contact with other Vampires. Slowly trailing off her accounting of events, Natalie fidgeted slightly. “There is uh… one more thing. I need to speak with Cole in private.”

Mina rubbed at her face before saying. “Well, she doesn’t seem possessed, and her story makes sense.” Staring off into the middle distance, she added. “The God of Death working with a Necromancer’s ghost to save the Alukah… What strange bedfellows calamity make.”

Natalie visibly twitched at the word ‘bedfellows,’ but no one seemed to notice. With Cole’s help, she got to her feet and left the salt circle. Holding his hand with possessive fierceness, Natalie led him a little away from the group, towards the grove of barren fruit trees behind the roadside shrine. Once she was reasonably certain they were alone, Natalie swallowed nervously and looked up at Cole. Undisguised concern colored his face, and Natalie couldn’t help but wonder if what she was about to say would soothe or inflame his worries. No matter his reaction, she couldn’t keep this from him. Isabelle might believe in safety through secrecy, but Natalie was growing to think that idea was goatshit.

“When Isabelle rescued me from the Rabisu, I wasn’t in a good state. The illusion it used to attack me was horrible, and I acted impulsively after being freed.” Seeing Cole’s eyebrows arch in growing concern, Natalie forced herself to get to the point. “I kissed Isabelle.”

Cole didn’t respond; he simply stared at Natalie, his face blank and unreadable. Knowing there was no turning back, Natalie hurriedly said. “It was a response to the terror and relief of having it end. But… just as she and I share you, would it be possible that… well… uh…”

As a girl, Natalie once accepted a dare from a friend to climb into the town stable’s hayloft and walk across one of the low rafters stretching over the season’s last straw-bales. Clambering up onto the thin piece of wood, Natalie had started confident, knowing if she fell, the straw below would cushion her fall. But nearly halfway across the rafter, Natalie made a mistake; she looked down. Suddenly, the rafter felt much higher than before, and the straw-bales seemed woefully insufficient safety equipment. Natalie faltered then and fell to the ground, spraining an ankle, skinning her knees, and earning one hells of a lecture from her mother.

Just as she once looked down and realized the full implications of her actions, Natalie now stumbled over her words in sudden embarrassed terror. What if Cole was angry? What if she was playing into some scheme of Isabelle’s? What if acting like an impulsive teenager endangered her relationship with Cole and Isabelle?

Looking up at Cole, Natalie forced herself to finish speaking. “I want both of you, and you both want me. So… uh… do I have your blessing to be more than friends with Isabelle?”

Thankful she wasn’t projecting life and that the inevitable blushing and fidgeting such words would inspire were limited by undeath, Natalie watched Cole’s face. A noise slowly escaped her knight, a low bubbling wheeze she initially thought was a growl. Before she could flinch away in trepidation, Cole’s arms wrapped around Natalie, and the truth of his noise became clear. He was laughing, a deep, barely constrained laugh that shook his entire body. Leaning down, Cole kissed Natalie on the forehead in between loud chuckles.

“You would not believe how relieved I am to hear that,” Cole said as his laughter slowly ended.

Blinking up at him in shock, Natalie asked. “Wait, what?”

Shaking his head, Cole replied. “It's one thing for a man to be torn between two women, even with their consent. It's another for three souls to become equally involved. I don’t know exactly how this will work, but knowing our connection might be a true triangle is heartening.”

Barely processing this, Natalie tentatively asked for clarification. “You aren’t angry?”

Cole raised an eyebrow. “I’d have to be a much bigger hypocrite than I already am to be upset. But… let's try and keep this arrangement to the three of us.”

Nodding, Natalie felt the tension flow from her. “Yes, I can agree with that. About not wanting to share either of you more, that is. I just hope our bed can fit all three of us once I help Isabelle build a new body.”

Slowly, Cole said. “I…I hadn’t considered that aspect.”

Realizing what she just said and even more thankful she couldn’t blush, Natalie asked. “Really? I thought stuff like that was a common fantasy. I mean… I wouldn’t mind.”

An almost lupine smile split Cole’s face, and he grabbed Natalie’s chin. “You seem to be feeling better.”

Staring up into his eyes, suddenly very aware of their closeness and privacy, Natalie felt her breath catch. “How long do you think till they start to wonder about us?”

Grabbing the small of Natalie’s back and pulling her close to him, Cole said. “That depends on how much noise we make.”

Returning Cole’s smile and feeling a bit of her confidence returning, Natalie placed her hands on his broad chest. “Oh, then we best be quick, I don’t feel like being quiet.”

Cole’s other hand slid to Natalie’s hip, “Perhaps I can cast a subtly spell before we get started?”

Leaning forward so her breasts pressed against Cole, Natalie laughed. “What a lovely idea.”

Heavy rain fell upon the Alidonian Mountains, sluicing down from the heavens to soak Wolfgang and his companions. Not that the cold spring storm bothered the group much, especially since Cleanor wasn’t with them. She’d been left behind in a prospector’s burrow they’d used as shelter the day before. Her presence would only cause complications for what the stone hunters had planned for that night.

Walking along a crude dirt path, feet sucking in the mud with every step, Wolfgang glanced over his allies. Each of them was cloaked and hooded, a paltry disguise under normal occasions but near-perfect considering the current weather. Even the Dullahan’s bulky frame was obscured by the treated cloth wrapping him. From a distance, the headless hunter simply appeared to be a large, barrel-chested man with a stiff gait. Hopefully, it was not enough of an abnormality to catch unwanted attention, but Marcus walked behind the three Vampires just to be certain. For Sir Thorm’s gambit to work, they needed to avoid suspicion for a few precious minutes.

The Strigoi Dwarf had found an old dwarven delve easily enough but with one major complication: it wasn’t abandoned. At first, the coterie of monsters considered making other plans, but Sir Wulfhild’s borrowed eyes and ears offered other options. A local crow’s memories told of the delve’s name. Words that held no meaning to the animal but stayed in its mind by virtue of hearing them over and over. Delve Njolk wasn’t abandoned, but that wouldn’t be an impediment if Wolfgang and Thorm approached matters correctly.

Not far ahead of Wolfgang, he could see flickering lamps and the pale light of glowstones marking the entrance to the tiny mining settlement. Little more than a cluster of simple wooden huts surrounding the delve proper, the hamlet hugged a cruel rock face in a rough-semicircle. Protecting this meager settlement was a crude wall of packed dirt and cracked stone. The mine spoils of the delve put to use if Wolfgang had to guess.

Reaching the delve’s gate, a large slab of wood probably repurposed from a broken wagon, Thorm the Short banged on the door, calling out in dwerick. Wolfgang spoke some of the hard crackling tongue, but Thorm’s use of some slurred accent made it nearly unintelligible. Still, the Black Fly knew the gist of the words; after all, he’d helped Thorm choose them.

As a silhouette appeared through the gate’s loose planks, Thorm spoke the preplanned lies. He claimed to be a peddler coming to trade and deliver a message to the delves foredwarf. Saying the storm caught him and his employees on the road, and they’d been forced to leave their mud-stuck cart a few kilometers up the road. Then asking if the good dwarves of Delve Njolk would invite this humble peddler and company inside for the night.

Eventually, the silhouette disappeared, leaving the quartet of monsters alone in the rainy dark. Glancing back at Wolfgang, Thorm explained. “He’s going to get the foredwarf and some silver to test us.”

Pursing his lips, Wolfgang nodded; things were going to plan. A few minutes later, two silhouettes reappeared, and the gate opened a fraction, revealing a pair of dwarves. One held a lantern and was young; judging by his short blond beard and unwrinkled skin, this was the watchdwarf to whom Thorm spoke. Beside him was a taller, more heavily muscled dwarf still wearing his night clothes. The foredwarf wore an expression of tired annoyance and held an axe in one hand.

In a voice deep like his ancestral home, the foredwarf asked something in his native tongue. Thorm responded and held out his hand, gesturing for Tallclaw to do the same. Spitting words that Wolfgang knew had to be a curse, the foredwarf stepped past the gate, a silver coin in his free hand. Quick as the lightning splitting the sky overhead, Tallclaw grabbed the foredwarf’s wrist and yanked him out into the night. Before the other dwarf could react, the Dullahan’s armored bulk shot forward and grabbed the young gate guard’s throat.

In the time it took a mortal to blink, both dwarves were pulled from the safety of their home and forced into the mud. Wolfgang watched as the young guard’s neck was snapped by one quick motion of the Dullahan’s gauntlets. The foredwarf tried to scream for help, but Tallclaw’s hands upon his mouth and throat prevented him. Arms pinned behind him, belly down in the muck, staring up at the coterie of monsters surrounding him, the foredwarf’s eyes widened in fear and hate.

Nodding in confirmation, Wolfgang reached into his memory palace, finding the mixture of memories and spells gifted by Spymaster Yezhov. Squatting down so he was at eye level with the prisoner, Wolfgang spoke. “Sunfall 17th, 1406, a quarter past nine, seven kilometers north-west of Noyia.”

The foredwarf stopped struggling against Tallclaw, and his expression became vacant. Speaking slowly and clearly so he might be heard over the torrential rain, Wolfgang addressed the waking sleeper. “Foredwarf Ordin of Delve Njolk, you are to invite my group into your settlement and treat us as old friends. You will ignore what we are, provide us a hiding place, and then assemble your entire delve for an important meeting. Use the disappearance of the guard as an excuse to gather everyone.”

At Wolfgang’s gesture, Tallclaw got off Ordin and let the dwarf stand up. Wiping the mud off his night clothes, Ordin cursed in dwerick before saying. “Awful night to be stuck out in this; let's get you all inside. Say, have any of you seen Morg? He was supposed to be guarding the gate?”

Morg lay not a meter away, his corpse cooling in the mud. Thorm stepped over the guard's body and said. “We haven’t; perhaps you should get some people to search for him later.”

Ordin nodded and turned towards the gate. “Come, come, I need to get this mud off me and find you all a place to sleep.”

As the three vampires followed the foredwarf, Marcus stayed behind, hoisting Morg’s corpse up and walking away. The Dullahan wasn’t shackled by the need for an invitation and would be more useful disposing of the inconvenient body. Ordin led Wolfgang and his knightly escort towards a simple storage shack, apologizing for the lack of better accommodations the entire time. “I’m sorry for putting you here; we don’t have much space fit for long-bones.”

Gesturing at a few crates scattered about, Ordin continued. “There are places to sit, and I’ll find some furs for bedding soon enough. I don’t know what warm food we’ve got this time of night, but I should be able to find something.”

A patronizing smile spread across Thorm’s face. “That won’t be necessary; instead, why don’t you start gathering searchers for your missing guard. It's an ugly night, not the sort you’d want someone lost in.”

Nodding, Ordin turned to leave. “Good idea! Best to act quick in case something bad has happened.”

As the dwarf shut the door behind him, Thorm looked to Wolfgang and suppressed a wheezing laughter. “Remind me to never make an enemy of Lord Yezhov. I’ve never seen such a perfect sleeper agent; how does he manage it?”

Thinking of the secrets imparted to him by the spymaster, Wolfgang replied. “I obviously don’t know the full mechanism involved, but he plants the geas in children. Where it becomes buried behind a lifetime of memories and only activates when they hear or read certain words. After which, they will follow any instructions and not even realize what happened.”

Eyes narrowing, the Strigoi Dwarf asked. “How does he ensure the children grow up into useful pawns? It's not like he could easily access the spawn of valuable mortals.”

Remembering the pure rage in Ordin’s eyes before the geas activated, Wolfgang answered with a question. “You know what Duke Umbria’s policy on children is, correct?”

Frowning, Thorm nodded. “Aye, his armies and vassals avoid killing them when they can. Are you saying that’s connected to his spymaster’s sleepers?”

Wolfgang nodded. “My sire always says to never do anything for a single reason. The Duke’s policy is a good example of that. It makes him seem slightly more palatable to the livestock while also giving him a cudgel to use against problematic vassals and ensures there's a plausible explanation for their being young survivors of so many raids. Children with memories clouded by trauma and a reason to seek valuable positions.”

Thorm pieced it together and let out a laugh rancid as his breath. “The children grow up seeking revenge! So they join the armies, temples, courts, and orders of our enemies! Oh, that is perfect; they spend their short lives trying to fight us but only forge themselves into better tools! Ha! No wonder there were so many strings Yezhov could pull at Crowbend; the castle must have been crawling with his planted seeds.”

It was, as Thorm said, the lands bordering Roloyo were infested with sleeper agents, many of which were now being awoken as this new war raged. Yezhov seemed to think his ‘seeds,’ as Thorm put it, would be easy to discover once the mortals knew what to look for. So now the spymaster was reaping opportunities before they started to rot. Wolfgang knew he wasn’t the only one offered these secrets, and had to wonder how many quiet betrayals akin to what he currently orchestrated were happening across the continent.

The thought of seeds growing into crops to be reaped sent a chill down Wolfgang’s spine. A Fell God’s sickle hung above his neck, awaiting another soul to be offered in Wolfgang’s place. Dealing with the Reaper and its church had been a gamble, and now the cards were falling in an ugly sequence. They’d offered him the aid he needed to replicate Gen Silva’s work and now wanted the disgraced countess’s masterpiece as compensation. As much as Wolfgang would like to dissect and examine the Homunculus Knight, losing that opportunity was an understandable cost.

Hand drifting to the twin knives strapped to his chest, Wolfgang mused on how well-informed Pater Epulo was. His source, the odd vampire named Scapino, was an enigma and one Wolfgang found annoyingly confusing. His memories of the man were unusually dull as if they’d been blurred by drink or long years. Yet more concerningly, the story Scapino shared was razor-sharp in Wolfgang’s mind. He could remember the specifics of how the disgraced Sir Dietrich tore off the Homunculus’s arm and realized what he faced, but not what Scapino’s voice sounded like.

At the time, Wolfgang had been so overwhelmed and exhausted he’d not put much thought into Scapino, just the information he shared. The ramifications were so important he’d rushed to speak with his sire and gather more evidence, not dwell on the odd man in a cooper’s cloak. Now, sitting in a shed, waiting for cruel psychic magic to pave a path for him, Wolfgang could focus on these abnormalities and what they implied. Scapino, Epulo, or both of them had ensnared Wolfgang in a spell he only now noticed.

Forcing himself to stay calm, Wolfgang sucked in a pointless breath, an affectation he rarely indulged in. He’d been psychically manipulated for a purpose, to spread the word of the Homunculus Knight and to hunt it down. But, more importantly, information about Scapino and his involvement with the Homunculus was obscured. Why would Epulo and this other debtor do that? Was the information wrong or otherwise flawed? What would be the reason to keep Scapino and his source hidden?

Freezing with the deathly stillness only a living corpse can manage, Wolfgang realized there was another gap in his memory. Who had told Scapino about Dietrich’s misadventures? Scapino relayed the information with startling detail and complexity but never mentioned where he’d learned of events. Something was pulling at the edge of Wolfgang’s mind, a revelation he could sense but not understand. Some thought, some key thought to all of this, was eluding him, like it was covered in oil and refused to be grabbed.

“They are assembling; we should signal for Marcus soon,” spoke Tallclaw, his deep baritone disturbing Wolfgang’s thoughts. Biting down his annoyance at being distracted, Wolfgang looked to the hulking Strigoi. His eyes were shut, and he was clearly looking through the senses of owls or other nocturnal animals.

Swallowing down his concerns, Wolfgang said. “That would be wise. Where are they meeting?”

Tallclaw’s face twitched slightly. “A structure near the cave’s proper mouth; I think it’s a miner’s canteen.”

Standing up from the crate he sat upon, Wolfgang said. “Summon the Dullahan; we will begin when he arrives.”

Elsewhere in the dark night, an owl cried seven times. Stepping from the storage shed, Wolfgang adjusted his spectacles and glanced around the delve’s outbuildings. All of the inhabitants were in the canteen, clearly awaiting whatever dire news Ordin had woken them to hear. If any other members of the delve weren’t present, they would be in the actual mine and a problem for tomorrow night.

Marcus appeared then, having forced the gate’s lock with his longsword. Green sparks flowed along the weapon's edge and showed in the Dullahan’s empty helmet; the cursed fire quenched for secrecy. An owl swept down from the night then and landed on Tallclaw’s shoulder. Reaching up, the Strigoi crushed the bird’s skull with a wet crunch, brain and blood dribbling through his hands. As the owl dropped to the ground, the Strigoi started to shift, his fingers becoming sickle-sized talons while grey feathers grew from his tattooed skin. Staring at the dead bird, Wolfgang couldn’t help but feel like its fate was an omen. It was used for the Voivode’s purposes and then discarded so another servant might be of more value.

Unbuckling his jacket and rolling up his sleeves, Thorm Shortteeth said. “The canteen has three entrances, one for each of us.”

Looking at Wolfgang, his beady red eyes reflecting lamplight, Thorm said. “Don’t worry; we’ll leave the scraps for you.”

Something wriggled underneath Shortteeth’s skin then, and Wolfgang watched pale flesh bulge with hidden movement. Slowly, the three monsters advanced towards the canteen, each preparing their tools of death. Watching them walk towards the unsuspecting dwarves, Wolfgang sighed in annoyance; Cleanor would be insufferable that she missed this.