Chapter Eight.

I didn’t argue, one look at Leigh’s serious expression was enough to convey something was urgent. Dropping from the ceiling with a heavy plop that had me grimacing, I grabbed up my discarded clothes while Leigh quietly closed the door to give me some privacy. The transformation back to human form was over in a heartbeat, and I couldn’t help but look down at myself wonderingly to see no evidence that anything was lurking beneath. I shook my head to refocus myself and quickly got dressed in my donated black outfit.

When I came out of the room a minute later, Leigh gave me an approving nod.

“That was quick, good. The marshals are heading this way, and we can’t guarantee someone won’t snitch us out if we go into the street. Joan is letting us use the crawlspace for now but if things go bad… Well, be ready to run.”

A spike of alarm shot through me and I couldn’t help but hiss out.

“How did they find us?? I swear if they went back on their word—”

“No, Ray. This one’s on me.” Leigh cut me off. “The marshals went straight to the guard and started questioning them for any suspicious occurrences around the ward’s activation, along with any persons sighted nearby. They’re interrogating anyone with a connection, and Joan just got a tip they’re on their way here for us after questioning that corporal we tricked. Turns out they have an actual temple dispensation, and were very intrigued to learn someone else was claiming to have one near the epicenter of the event. We’re lucky Joan has boys in the guard who warned her about this.”

Shit. Wait, Joan has what now?

I made to question him further, but he cut me off again and hurriedly started pulling me towards the stairs.

“No time. You can ask more questions when we’re all clear of this.”

Growling frustratedly, I followed him down. The bar room was surprisingly packed still, but the atmosphere was very different from earlier. When I’d left it the room had been in the throes of an almost violent celebration, but now it seemed like a normal, almost subdued night in a typical tavern. The change was jarring, and I caught more than a few looks my way that had my instincts on edge.

Something is up here…

Leigh pulled me through the open doorway to the kitchens, where a couple of cooks I hadn’t met before were very careful not to look at us as we walked by. Joan was standing by an open door to what looked like a pantry closet, her face was hard and she gave Leigh a stony look while she beckoned us forward.

“I swear by my late husband, Leigh, if I have to hide you in my crawlspace one more sodding time—”

“Sorry love, risk of the calling. You know I can’t turn down a good cause.” Leigh quipped with a wink as we darted into the room, which revealed some crates that had been pushed aside to open up a hidden hatch leading beneath the building. Joan closed her eyes and took a deep breath, looking like she was trying to keep from blowing up at my guide.

“Get in. I’ll cover it up when you’re down. If they won’t leave or try to search the place then take the tunnel out to the river, my boys will be there and we’ll try to get you beyond the wall at least.”

I couldn’t help being touched by how much this woman had gone out of the way to help me. Even if it was due to something going on with Leigh, she’d let me eat and stay with her for free on top of giving me some actual clothes to wear. She’d even spent some time adjusting most of them to fit me better— a fact I’d discovered in my hurry to get dressed— despite how busy this place was.

And now she’s offering to help smuggle me out of the city.

“Thank you, Ms. Joan.” I said quietly as I ducked into the crawlspace.

She gave me a strained smile.

“Just keep it down for now lad, alright? We’ll talk after, assuming that drunkard doesn’t bring the Calamity to hide in my basement next.”

I stiffened at her words before trying to play it off with a nervous chuckle. Her eyes narrowed at me and her hands went to her hips. Wilting under her stern gaze, I was frozen until she spoke in a hard voice.

“Do you mean harm to me or mine? Are you a threat to this city or its people?”

Swallowing my reflexive denial, I thought hard about my actions the last couple days. While I didn’t normally think of myself as a violent person, someone watching my life might tell a different story given how I reacted under stress lately. In the end, I could only answer honestly.

“I don’t want to be a threat to anyone. I just… I want…” Trailing off in frustration, I couldn’t articulate the overwhelming feelings of guilt and anger that threatened to drown me with every moment. I shouldn’t be a monster anymore, the only influence on my mind should be my own. Yet I was still behaving so… monstrous. How was I supposed to survive here otherwise? My only real goal in this world was to find Dezzahn and figure out what happened to my [Blightlings], but it just seemed so far away. Totally lost in my spiraling thoughts, I was completely surprised when Joan leaned over and gave me a quick hug before pulling back and holding me by the shoulders.

“Listen. Despite his many, many, many flaws—”

“Hey!” Leigh protested from further in the crawlspace.

“Hush, you. For all his flaws, Leigh’s a good judge of folk, and a good man despite himself. He’s helped more runaways find their place in the world than I can rightly count, and the damn fool really can’t resist a good cause. I don’t know what you've got to do with this Calamity business, but he thinks you’re a good sort and I’ve seen nothing from you to show otherwise. You are welcome here Ray, and let the damned marshals try to take you two while I’m still standing.” Joan had a dangerous glint in her eyes as she finished her declaration, and I couldn’t help the warmth that spread in my chest even while she hurriedly pushed me back down into the crawlspace so she could cover the entrance up with crates.

Leigh was crouched close to the entrance, and he held a finger to his lips to forestall any questions before gesturing at me to follow him. He didn’t seem to have any more problems than I did with navigating the dark crawlspace, and I couldn’t help wondering what other abilities my guide was hiding. The steady clomp of footsteps announced that we’d made our way underneath the main room when we stopped and he pointed at a few small gaps in the floorboards above us that let in slivers of light. The sounds were muffled slightly, but I could still make out most conversations going on and pressing up to the gap I had a clear view of Joan standing behind the bar counter.

Stolen story; please report.

We waited like that for a few tense minutes, with each time the doors opened above us making me wonder if the marshals had arrived, but when they finally did there was no mistaking them. The party atmosphere from earlier was well and truly gone already, but when the marshals came through the swinging doors it was like a stifling blanket thrown over what little pleasantness remained. Two men came in, decked out in long, navy-blue coats with silver trim. Plate armor gleamed underneath as the coats shifted, and the heavy thud of armored boots rang out in the hushed atmosphere. They both wore helmets that concealed their true faces beneath a mask of steel moulded to look like a man staring impassively. Stopping in the entryway, they swept the room with a side-to-side motion of their heads before marching their way up to Joan.

Well, that’s super intimidating.

Stopping at the bar, they stood stiffly in front of Joan.

“Are you the proprietor of this establishment?” One demanded.

“Aye, how can I help you, marshals? Are you here for a drink? On the house for any who’d face the Calamities alongside Lord Hakkon.” Joan answered pleasantly.

The men ignored her offer and continued brusquely.

“We’re looking for two men, known to frequent this place, in connection with the recent ward activation. Leigh of Corman, wanted for questioning in conjunction with his fraudulent use of a temple dispensation, and an unknown accomplice under the alias ‘Ray’.”

“Well that’s fine then gentlemen, but I’m not hearin’ a question in all that?” Joan came back leadingly after an extended pause.

“Where are they? We know you are associated with them.”

“I’m afraid I don’t keep track of every drunken layabout and their hanger’s on that come into my tavern, sirs. This is a very busy place you can see. I wish you luck in finding them, and see if you can get some money out of that Leigh. He’s run up a tab with half the inns from here to Southrand.” Joan said flippantly, though some strain was coming through in her voice by now at the men’s blatantly aggressive posture.

“We know they are staying here. I’ll ask you again woman, where are they?” One of them barked out.

Joan’s pleasant demeanor vanished and a hard look came over her face.

“That’s enough of that. You won’t find your men here, now I’ll kindly have ask you to leave.”

“You will answer our questions now, or you will be coming with us until you do.” One of them reached over and clamped an armored gauntlet around Joan’s wrist.

Oh hell no.

The skin on my forearms split, claws and tentacles making themselves known as I got ready to smash my way through the floor. Leigh stopped me, appearing at my side startlingly quick and grabbing my shoulder with a smirk and a shake of his head. I gave him an incredulous look until I realized that I wasn’t the only one to react like that.

When the marshal had grabbed Joan, the whole tavern had gone absolutely still. Now, every single man in the room quietly stood to their feet, glaring coldly at the marshals. Deafening silence rang out as the two men took stock of the sudden change in their situation. A younger man with blond hair in a warrior’s braid slowly made his way forward, speaking with a thick accent.

“S’ passin rude, to hold a lady like tha, ya know? Mama Jo’ taught all’n us boys bettah manners. Mama Jo’s been part o’ tha community fo long time, marshal-boys.” Walking by one of the tables he reached down and gave it a slow rap with his knuckles. “I have’n my first ale, right heah, years ago ken? All’n us boys did. Maybe ya’s bettah to let go o’ Mama’s hand.” The man finished with an easy smile that couldn’t hide the hard edges.

“We are marshals in pursuit of a potential Calamity. Any obstruction is—” One of the marshals started.

“S’ no Calamity at Mama Jo’s, marshal-boy.” The man cut in, spreading his hands and making a show of looking under the tables. “Now, all’n us boys be good citizens, yes? Mama Jo tell us be, so we is. Tell you what, we all’n go with ya to-night. Us boys be everywhere in this city, so if’n there be Calamity to be found, sure we find it with ya’s, ken?”

Both marshals swept the room again, their heads moving back and forth, searching for some sign of hesitation or weakness and finding none.

“If we have to come back with a battalion of the guard, we will.” They eventually tried.

“Oh? And what’n the guard be sayin’ about tha?” The man said with an arched eyebrow, angling to the side to reveal a man with the telltale black-and-gold uniform of a city guard sergeant.

“Hmm… this is a rough part of town. Joan’s is one of few places keeping things peaceful in the district, I don’t think we’ll be upsetting that cart any time soon. Besides—” The guardsman lifted up a mug and took a big sip before turning around and casually strolling out of the room. “Mama Jo makes good ale.”

The tension in the air thickened the moment the guard left, and the whole room seemed ready to erupt into violence.

“You hearin’ tha, marshal-boys? I think’n ya’s worn out ya welcome. Best leave, while we all still friend-like.” The blond man said with an ice-cold smile.

The marshal holding Joan’s arm made a disgusted noise and released her, all while she gave him a beatific smile. The armored men stormed their way out of the room without another word, the saloon doors cracking against the outer walls with the force of their angry exit. A couple of groups left to follow them, and the atmosphere gradually calmed until Joan turned to the man who’d been speaking.

“Thank you Ivery, I can’t believe the marshals would try something like that. Acting like the bloody inquisition in the middle of town! Now, what did I tell you about that accent?”

He ducked his head sheepishly before mumbling out a much more coherent apology. “Sorry Mama Jo, comes out when I’m angry. Liz says it makes me sound more roguish though!”

“You had better not be acting like a thug just to impress some girl, Ivery! No ‘rogue’ was raised in this tavern.” Joan replied sharply.

A burst of laughter drowned out Ivery’s protests as the people around the room settled back into their seats. Joan leaned over and wrapped the man up in a firm hug that set off a few wolf whistles while Leigh quietly gestured for us to head back to the entrance of the crawlspace.

“That went so much better for us than I could have ever hoped.” He said as we waited below the trapdoor.

“What? They almost arrested Joan! I was ready to cut through the floor, and it looked like everyone in the room was ready to jump those guys all at once. How is that a good outcome??” I asked incredulously.

“Because, those two idiots just single-handedly burned through most of the goodwill this city had for them in one brilliant stroke of arrogant stupidity. Before we wouldn’t have been able to leave the tavern without half the neighborhood running to the marshals while the other half held us down. Now the lips on these people will be sealed tighter than the locks on Joan’s ale room.” Leigh shook his head ruefully. “I can only imagine they’ve gotten used to people rolling over for them because of their association with Lord Hakkon. There’s a dozen ways they could have gone about this and pressured Joan legally that she’d have had to let them search the place, but instead they came in acting like common thugs— no offense to the common thugs who just defended us all.”

I couldn’t help a nagging feeling of unease though.

“They still found us awfully quick though, I don’t think they’ll give up that easily.”

“Fair enough, someone on the Doombreaker’s team is competent, which means we’re going to have to lay low until the caravan is ready to leave. Let’s not put Joan in any more danger than we have, right?”

While I agreed with the sentiment, I couldn’t help feeling discontented. We’d already put Joan at risk just by coming here, and it didn’t sit right with me to just let her take the heat for something I’d done. The resolve to do something about it gradually firmed up in my mind as I stared at the floor while clenching my fists.

When I looked up, Leigh was giving me a suspicious glare.

“That is the look of a young man about to do something colossally stupid with a half-cocked plan and vaguely good intentions. A look I know very well.”

For a moment I gave him my best ‘innocent’ face, until he shrugged.

“Whatever, if it’ll help Joan, I’m in.”

“What, that’s it? My plan could be terrible.”

“I think we can both agree that my decision-making skills are subpar at best, and until my calling is completed it is my sworn duty to aid you as much as possible. Can’t do that if you ditch me to do something suicidal by yourself now can I? So what’s the plan?” He said cheerfully.

Staring at him for a bit, I eventually returned his shrug and just got on with it.

“The marshals are here for a monster, right? So…” I transformed my hand again, holding up the grey-skinned, clawed appendage. “Let’s give them a monster.”