These Reincarnators Are Sus! Sleuthing in Another World

The forest floor gave way to mossy cobblestone, just as Ciel remembered. This time, however, there were no guards at the base of the bell tower.

Her daughter was waiting for her. Ciel felt her heart pounding, but she didn't slow. She only went faster. Bea was just at the top. Waiting. Hoping. Afraid.

She pushed the door open, charging up the spiraling stairs that had dizzied her when she was a child. The bell had long since stopped tolling. But the silence only made her climb feel louder.

"Bea?" Ciel called out as loud as she could, her voice breaking. "Are you up there, Bea?! Mama's here—I'm coming to you now, so don't be frightened…!"

Ciel's footsteps echoed higher and higher into the tower…

Bea was terrified.

Emily was the scariest person she'd ever met. She was smiling—a big smile with angry eyes. And as the woman slowly climbed up the dusty rope ladder into the belfry, Bea finally understood.

Emily wanted to hurt her.

"Your papa just takes… and takes… and takes…" Emily said, with a scratchy laugh. She struggled to get up the ladder, leaning to one side and panting. "Every time I try to take something back… he finds a new way to cripple me."

The woman reached the top at least—then paused, turning her body to show Bea why she'd had such a hard time.

Her arm hung there. It swung from side to side without so much as a twitch from her fingers. "I'm like a broken doll now. Isn't that funny?" Emily rasped, her teeth bared. "Your papa didn't even cut the side that was already missing fingers. No, he had to ruin the good one. Isn't that just hilarious?"

Bea slowly shook her head. She was too scared to move. Too scared to even cry.

But Emily lunged forward. "Laugh!"

Bea's feet finally listened. She scampered back, and Emily's three fingers grazed her cheek as she fled to the edge of the belfry. It wasn't very big.

"If you don't laugh," Emily spat, "it just becomes pathetic."

Emily slowly crept forward, then managed to grab her—full strength, with the arm that still worked. And Bea bit her. Hard. As hard as she could.

"ARRGH!" Emily let out a pained growl.

Bea ran as fast as she could to the ladder. She got about halfway down. But her foot caught on a rung, and she lost her balance trying to yank it free.

For a moment Bea dangled upside down, her arms flailing. But her foot finally freed and she fell the rest of the way down.

Emily jumped down right after her, landing right in front of Bea with a thud that made the little girl squeak in surprise.

"And now you owe me too," Emily murmured, her smile barely there. She held up her hand to show the teeth marks.

"So… what's it going to be, little Bea? A tumble down the stairs, or a fall from the tower?"

Bea tried to run past her but Emily cut her off.

"I made a decision for the both of us," Emily snarled, grabbing Bea with her uninjured arm. "Now come on—let's count how long it takes you to reach the bottom."

The woman grabbed Bea by the collar of her dress and yanked her upward. Bea thrashed, arms and legs swinging wildly, her feet hitting Emily's stomach again and again—but the woman didn't stop.

She kept moving. Out onto the walkway. Towards the rails.

They were finally there. As Emily hoisted her up, Bea felt her feet brush over the metal rails. She seized up, gasping, dangling over the edge like a doll. There was nothing beneath her now but air.

It felt like the wind was wrapping all around her. It was so cold and so loud in her ears.

"Oops… this hand's not what it used to be," Emily whispered into Bea's ear. "I wonder whose fault it'll be if I let go. Your papa's—for stealing pieces of me? Or yours—for biting me so hard, when I was already hurting?"

"...Your… fault…" Bea rasped out.

The woman's face twitched, and Bea felt her grip loosen slightly, as if she wanted to drop Bea right there. Bea squeaked, afraid she'd really let go.

"What did you just say?" Emily growled.

"You didn't… live good…" Bea sniffled, her eyes welling up with tears. But she didn't hide her glare as she looked Emily right in the eye. "I wasn't… bad. You were."

"Those your last words?" Emily murmured. She gave another mean smile. "Can't leave the world without pointing fingers, huh?"

Bea didn't know what to do. She didn't think there was anything she could do. For the first time in her life, she realized that this might really be the end. And she hadn't prepared for it.

She didn't know if there was much worth in last words spoken to someone as terrible as Emily. They'd be lost forever like a whisper covered up by wind.

But somewhere deep inside, Bea felt it. Even whispers mattered. Even if no one seemed to hear them.

"I want… to see mama…" Bea whispered.

"You'll never get to," Emily said, her voice soft, syrupy and tender. She pulled Bea in closer, back over the rail, making sure she could hear every word. "But I'll make sure she gets to see you."

Bea's heart dropped. The thought that her mother would be hurt yet again—in the worst way possible—made it ache so bad she thought it would burst. And when she whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut so she wouldn't have to watch the ground get closer and closer as she fell…

She heard a familiar voice. The voice she knew best in the world.

It was like her whisper had really been heard—carried by the wind, instead of swallowed by it.

"Are you up there, Bea?! Mama's here—I'm coming to you now, so don't be frightened…!"

"Ma… Mama!" Bea cried out. "MAMA!"

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Bea jabbed her thumb into Emily's eye as hard as she could. Emily shrieked, her grip loosening as pain overtook her, giving Bea the opportunity to wriggle free.

She dropped onto the rail with a thud.

It was slick. She was slipping. She kicked her legs like she was swimming, trying to pull herself forward.

"Mama!" Bea shouted desperately. "Mama, I'm here!"

'BEA!'

Her mother's voice was getting closer, but she didn't sound close enough. Emily had finally recovered. She grabbed one of Bea's tiny hands.

"Looks like you got your wish," Emily sneered. "You'll see her. Just one more time. For just a little second."

No matter how Bea tried to squirm back onto solid ground, Emily held her there. The sound of her mother's footsteps echoing up the stairs were like a countdown. Bea's heart hammered.

"Bea—" Ciel cried out in relief when she reached the top.

Until she saw what was happening.

Without a word, Emily let go of Bea's hand. Then she gave Bea a light push forward, before Ciel could even get close to the rail.

Bea slipped backwards off the rail. She reached out and desperately hugged the rail post from the outside, but she couldn't stop herself from sliding down.

Ciel screamed.

Bea slid down and down. Her face dropped down below the level of the walkway. Her arms reached the bottom of the poles. Her fingers slipped—

She dropped a couple of feet. But her hands found a pipe. Her feet landed on a narrow ledge. She didn't know what it was. Just that it wasn't very wide. And it was slick. And she had to stand at the very tips of her toes to keep holding onto the pipe.

"MAMA!" Bea called out again, her voice cracking.

She couldn't see what was happening. She could hear a humming sound, her mother and Emily shouting above—but she couldn't process what they were saying. She was too emotional.

The sounds continued for ten long seconds.

Then, Bea couldn't hear Emily shouting anymore.

She heard footsteps running up to the ledge. Then she heard her mother gasp.

"Bea…!" Ciel called down. "Bea, hold on! I'm here!"

"Mama…!" Bea hiccuped. She still couldn't see her mother's face. But she saw a hand reaching down through the rails, hovering just above her head. The arm reaching for her trembled. She heard her mother's strained grunts, her catching breath.

Her fingers were shaking.

"Can you grab mama's hand, Bea?" Ciel asked softly.

"I'm… I'm on my tiptoes, mama," Bea sobbed.

"It's alright, Bea. I'm coming down, okay?" Ciel reassured her. "Mama just needs to climb over this rail. I'm almost there."

The hand reaching out for her withdrew.

Bea tried to talk through sobs. "Mama… did Emily hurt you…? Is she still up there?"

"Emily won't hurt anyone ever again, Bea," Ciel said. "Don't think of her now. Just hold on tightly—focus on your fingers for mama."

"My hands… hurt, mama…" Bea said.

She heard her mother's breath hitch.

"Aristurtle's waiting for you, Bea," Ciel said, her voice steady as she started to climb over the railing. "He misses you. He says you've been trying very hard every day. Can you tell mama why?"

"Because… because living good is like brushing your teeth…" Bea rasped out.

Her hands were getting numb.

She heard a tinny creak sounding out as her mother threw both legs over the rails. Then a grinding metallic squeal, like they were shifting—rusted and struggling with the full weight of an adult.

"Bent Ham has been frowning since you left," Ciel said, as she carefully slid down. "Don't you think coming home might help him smile again?"

"I want… Bent Ham to be happy…" Bea said, straining to stay upright. She felt one of her feet slipping. "Sad pigs… get turned into lard…"

A tiny, pained noise escaped Bea's throat once she clearly saw her mother.

She had cuts and bruises all over. A particularly large gash streaked across her cheek. But Ciel kept speaking gently, as if none of it mattered—soothing Bea, trying to calm her down.

"And Cant told me you have to keep promises because it's the right thing to do. Do you remember what you promised mama?" Ciel asked, one foot finding the ledge, one hand reaching out for her daughter.

"I promised… to live together with mama," Bea said, barely holding it in. Then the tears broke loose and she wailed, "I wanna live with you, mama!"

Bea's foot finally slipped. And her fingers gave way right after, her hand flailing for her mother's but not quite reaching. She cried out as she dropped—just as Ciel lunged.

"BEA!" Ciel screamed.

It was a breathless instant. Ciel hadn't even set both feet down yet when Bea fell. There was no time to think. She dove after her daughter, locking her arms around her waist.

And together they fell, plummeting toward the ground below.

It was the final moments before Gerhardt transformed, and before Ciel and Bea fell from the tower. The sylphs were still circling through the amphitheater. The chaos below had reached its peak. Unbeknownst to the mercenaries—who were certain the sylphs had come to deliver divine retribution—the fae spirits of the wind were just as terrified of the dark.

'AHHHH I CAN'T SEE! STOP FLYING INTO ME!'

'YOU FLEW INTO ME! WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING!'

"HOW CAN I WATCH WHEN I CAN'T SEE?'

Of course, to the mercenaries below, this misguided sylph bickering sounded like godly wrath manifest.

While all the other sylphs had their heads in the clouds, only Sorelle had maintained any sense of purpose. She could see the bright white flashes around the man she was supposed to protect—her new friend's papa, and her old new friend's brother.

'OW!' She whined as another sylph ran into her, and their misty forms intermingled for a second. It was actually worse than running into a solid object, because it was far more confusing. 'Get off me!'

'Sorry!'

As she reformed, Sorelle took stock of the situation as best she could—which, for a sylph, was already a remarkable show of focus.

'I think we can go home now!' Sorelle gusted. 'The arrows stopped!'

Unfortunately for Sorelle, that was the moment Gerhardt transformed.

The heat in the amphitheater rose sharply—hot enough to sting. To the sylphs, it was unbearable. As fae, they loathed heat more than anything in the world.

Then the miasma came over the entire amphitheater, a suffocating haze that could rob even a sylph of breath. Their panicked flying finally stilled into genuine fear. Even if they wished to help, this was as far as they could go.

They all burst upward, high above the amphitheater where the miasma couldn't reach them.

It was time to report to her new friend, the little girl up in the bell tower. Sorelle squinted in the direction of the tower, thinking something looked a bit off.

'That doesn't make sense… It looks like she's hanging off the side,' Sorelle wisped to herself. She tilted her head. 'And someone else is climbing after her…?'

Soaring a bit closer, her lightness started to falter, the airy particles she was made of getting heavier with dread.

'Ah… AHH…. AHHHHHHHHHHHH!' Sorelle screamed in absolute terror, realizing she saw right the first time.

'Everyone follow me!' Sorelle shouted, taking charge. She flew toward the top of the bell tower.

'Why?!' The nearest sylph shouted back. 'I thought we were going home!'

'Just follow, can't explain, go go go go go!' Sorelle puffed in a flurry.

All the sylphs took off after her, realizing one after another just why Sorelle was so panicked.

And just when they reached the tower—that was the moment Bea slipped, and Ciel leapt after her.

The sylphs spiraled upward beneath them, flying in tighter and tighter circles until they whipped the air into a trembling little vortex. The mother and daughter kept falling… but their speed was slowing, just a little.

Just not enough.

Flashes of light burst from the mother's hands, slowing their fall even more.

Their motion was turbulent. The pair was cast this way by the winds, pushed to the side by Ciel's bursts of the divine blessing, pulled in yet another direction by the sylphs' small twister.

For a few harrowing, ethereal seconds, mother and daughter together flew through the sky. And just before they struck the ground, Ciel pulled Bea close—holding her tight.

She made sure it would be her, not Bea, who hit first.