His party was surprised to find him still wearing his formal attire, but he had more important things to talk about. So, without giving them time to retire into something more comfortable, he brought them to the drawing room the mayor had set aside for them to use as a conference room. It was far from large, made even more cramped by the stacks and heaps of papers, books and supplies littering just about every single surface. Its size was forgiven by its disposition, being a corner room that overlooked the quaint avenue outside the gates of the estate, which granted it both natural lighting and a cozy atmosphere. At this time of day, however, it was fairly dark, forcing Emil to use a spell to illuminate the room.

“What’s this about, Mole? You look shaken,” Plus said, hanging his heavy coat onto the rack in the room. Frowning at his tight outfit, he began peeling off the jacket, and the petticoat as well, only stopping once the only thing his chest bore was the simple blue dress shirt and the holster containing maybe one sword too many. Even with every piece of clothing being tailor-made, the goblins kept doubting that he really was that big, leaving him with clothes one size too small. Still, with the complexion and temperament of a beluga whale, he was not one to complain. Plus smiled gently. “Did something happen?”

Rat lit up in savage glee. “Did you meet the heart-ripper?!” His grin dispersed any sense of gravitas Emil had been able to gather. “Oh, I bet you did! I’ve heard he stalks at night and comes out of the sewer. Was he scary? Did he look like a rodent in goblin form?!”

Jazz smacked him over the head. “Obviously not,” she said. “If he met the heart-ripper, he’d have him in cuffs down at the precinct by now.” She glanced over at Emil and thumbed her lower lip. “Ah, unless he met him, and killed him in a brawl. It’d be violently out-of-character, but that’d explain why he looks like a reanimated goth chick.”

Moving out from behind her, Ursula frowned, arms behind her back as she fought to loosen her corset. Now that Emil thought about it, he still hadn’t loosened his own. That might have explained his breathlessness. With her chest no longer compressed into a tube, Ursula breathed openly. “I wouldn’t say he looks that bad.”

“Thanks,” Emil muttered weakly.

“Besides, if he did meet the heart-ripper, and he didn’t kill or arrest him…” She chuckled. “Well, I can’t imagine any other option, save for maybe inviting him home and bringing him to his bedroom for some charcuterie and chill.” The absurdity of her statement made the rest of the gathered members laugh. Emil did not join them.

Moving over to the table, he took his position at the head, placing both of his hands on the back of his chair. “Once you’ve made yourselves a bit more comfortable, I’d love it if you would join me.”

Their good humor died painlessly. Sharing a few looks, they hung their coats, joined him around the table, and took a seat at the same time that he did. Now, they were all joined around the table, Emil’s four companions looking at him, waiting for him to explain what all of this was about.

However, the first thing he said wasn’t for them.

Loudly, exclaiming to the room as a whole, he stated, “I know you’re in here, so show yourself and stop being a nasty little snoop!” His words echoed through the room, bouncing from wall to wall, unanswered. Emil turned a stern eye about the room, looking at the floor, the walls, all the nooks and crannies… “If you don’t show yourself, my opinion of you will be greatly lessened!”

There was no reply. Nobody moved, not even his party members, who were currently looking at each other as though telepathically discussing whether to chart him off to bedlam before or after hearing him out.

With Emil’s gaze as harsh as his words, nobody dared say a thing. After almost a full minute of silence, he let out a long sigh, slumped back into his chair and finally looked at his companions. “Looks like he isn’t in here. Sorry, I just had to make sure.”

“Who isn’t in here?” Plus asked, his heavy brow falling across his small, rounded eyes. “Is there someone we should know about?”

Leaning on top of the table, Emil sucked in a breath between gritted teeth. He scratched his neck. “Yeah, that’s… It’s a bit of a long story, but I met Kitty.”

“Kitty?” Ursula asked, her voice growing dangerously sharp. “Prissy Kitty Princess?”

Rat grinned across the table. “Haha, no way!” His grin slanted into a sharp smirk. “Mole, if you tell me that you found him ripping hearts out of goblins, I swear I’ll eat your boots.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“N—no! I didn’t!”

Jazz fiddled with a piece of her curly hair. “But?”

The others all looked at her as though she’d put the pin on the meaning of life, death and the universe. They turned on Emil as one.

Emil let his gaze fall to his steepled fingers. “...But, he…” He bit his lip. He looked up at them again, the smile he wore being desperate, at best. “He’s been doing it in order to save people. To help us. See, he has this skill, and he can use it to…”

“No way,” Ursula breathed. “No fucking way that he was—”

Rat barked a laugh, slamming his hand onto the table. “Oh—oh my God, that’s hilarious! You’re serious? He said he did it for you, and you believed him? Please tell me that you didn’t fall for it, Mole. Come on!” His grin turned mocking, and rightfully so. “That’s what they all say!”

Emil drew in a breath. “He has a skill that can fully heal people if he uses the heart of someone else. He just had to learn how to use it, and then…”

“Two-hundred and thirty-eight,” Plus said, his deep voice smoothly suffocating the jovial atmosphere. Even Rat stopped laughing. Atop the table, Plus’ hands were drawn into tight fists, his dark skin pulled taut over his calloused knuckles. “So far, that’s how many have been made victims of him.” His eyes darkened. “Could you tell their families what you’ve told us? Or are their lives less worth than the hypothetical lives that might be saved down the line?”

Emil tried to meet his gaze evenly, but the tremble in his hands gave him away. He clenched them. “He isn’t a bad person,” he said. “He’s just…”

Beside him, Jazz spoke calmly, saying, “Twenty of the victims were children.”

“Twenty-nine,” Plus corrected. “Of which seven were so badly mutilated their families could only recognize them by their clothes.”

Emil buried his face in his hands.

A hand touched his back, and he looked up to find Ursula smiling tentatively at him. “Listen, Mole… You don’t have to defend him. We both know what the proper course of action here is.”

Something in his chest tightened. “No. No. I refuse to let him be turned in. There’s still good he can do. I refuse to let him use the heart skill, but…”

Rat scoffed. “If you hadn’t ‘accidentally’ let him go last time, then he wouldn’t have—”

Ursula motioned for him to be silent. He obliged, unwillingly.

A ragged breath escaped Emil’s throat. There was some measure of determination shining in his eyes, a glint of the same resolve he’d used to defend his friend last. “He’s selectively been attacking people who were infected with drake pox. Not just anybody who’s sick, or whoever showed symptoms. He’s specifically been going after those affected by the plague, with some of them being so early in the infection that the characteristic goosebumps were only found during obduction.” Around the table, four pairs of owlish eyes turned on him, each more confused than the last. Emil almost wanted to laugh. “Don’t you see? He can tell who’s sick and who isn’t, even if they don’t know it themselves yet.”

Plus was the first one to put two and two together. “Oh.”

In close second, Jazz’ eyes widened as it clicked. “Ah.”

The two runner-ups both looked as though they were trying to spot an acorn in a snowstorm.

Emil smiled at them. “Can you imagine how many could be saved if we used this properly?” He chuckled wryly. “Sure, it’ll never bring back those who have already died, but… Wouldn’t it be cruel to those he could save if we killed him now?”

Plus made a difficult expression. “Of course. However, how can we know that—”

“I’m against it,” Ursula said sharply. Emil turned to where she sat on his right, leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest. “Alright, let’s say we get him to help. Assuming that he doesn’t go off in the middle of the night to make a feast of an orphanage, what then? The plague is slowing down. Soon, it’ll be cured—maybe thanks in large part to him—and once that’s done… He’s off again. Have you asked him how many he’s killed since you last talked? Aside from the two-hundred-something innocent civilians here, that is?” A wrinkle of disgust cracked above her nose. “You’re more naive than I thought if you think he won’t be right back to his old ways after this.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Emil said. “He’s here now, and right now, he can help us. He can help us a lot.”

Despite the frown on his face, Plus couldn’t help but agree, albeit reluctantly. “Although I agree with you, Sully… He has a point. Being able to treat the infection before it spreads could save hundreds, if not thousands from an agonizing death.”

“And that makes it okay?” Ursula asked. “Is that how we’re weighing lives, now?” She puffed herself up and pulled at an imaginary lapel, pretending to be a lawyer, saying, “Oh, yes, your honor, my client did indeed kill all those children, but he cured anthrax, so it’s all okie-dokie!” Slumping out of character, she turned to Plus with a glare. “Like that?”

Emil frowned at her straw-manning. “No, obviously not.” He gestured in the air. “They don’t cancel each other out. However, if we refuse someone the opportunity to save lives because of their past…”

“I’m for it,” Jazz said. The arguing parties turned to her as one. She shrugged. “We have all the information and nuance we need. There’s no real need to prolong a vote.” She yawned, a motion that spread infectiously to both Rat and Ursula, who echoed the motion. “Besides, it’s really late. Both Mole and I have six-o-clock rounds tomorrow.”

Hesitantly, Emil pulled himself up, trying to assert some manner of confidence befitting the team leader. “I agree with Jazz. Does everyone else feel ready to make a vote?” A few scattered nods from the gathered members met him. “Alright. In that case, let’s do a show of hands. How many agree to let Kitty help?”

Emil, Plus and Jazz all raised their hands.

Emil nodded at them, smiling at both Plus and Jazz. “In that case, we have our answer.” He made to stand. “Again, sorry to call you out here after such an evening, it became rather urgent with—”

“Hang on,” Ursula said, stalling Emil’s attempt to leave. “I have a few demands.”

Reluctantly taking his seat once more, Emil turned to Ursula. “As long as they are realistic, I’m all ears.”

“Good. In that case…”