Later in the afternoon, Alton and Cook met in an office provided by the dean of Sacred Dark University. Cook had already arranged for the three students in question to meet them there. Sacred Dark’s administration has agreed to cooperate fully with the police and is in the process of sending the requested students to meet with the detectives.
Two human women are the first of the three requested students to arrive. One wears the robes of an ordained cleric of Hekahuh, somber black with a deep hood and sleeves that drape to hide her fingers. The other wears a fashionable dress, the hem provocatively at her knees, and tall boots. The latter has an extremely ugly parrot perched on her shoulder.
They introduce themselves and shake hands with both detectives. The cleric is Septimia Auila, who pulls her hood back to reveal her recently shaved head, marking her dedication to the god as recent. The secular student is Piscia Victorinus, and the parrot is her familiar.
After they make their introductions, a tiny kobold, weighed down by a heavy backpack scurries into the room. The girls introduce him as their study buddy, Ladislav Povondra, and he fits the description Gus gave Cook earlier that morning.
With all present and seated, the detectives get down to business.
“You may have already heard,” Alton begins, “Marion Durandal was murdered early Monday morning.”
All three nod acknowledgement. Cook notes that Victorinus’s eyes are red as though she has been crying recently. Auila’s barely visible fingers caress the ridges of a prayer ring. Povondra is harder for him to read, with an impassive draconic face. Cook distrusts the kobold, and notes this in his writing.
“We are investigating her final movements, and were told that you three are her closest friends.” Alton looks each in the eyes as she says this. Auila meets her gaze impassively. Povondra glares. Victorinus stares fixedly at her hands.
“I don’t know that I can say that anymore,” Auila confesses, “she moved out and left us a week ago.”
“She was living with you?” Cook asks, quickly.
“For a while.” Auila’s fingers continue tracing the prayer ring. “I know it’s against the rules for a long term visitor to stay in the dorm, but after leaving Bandon she didn’t have anything but what she could carry. It is right and just to provide for the homeless, and she is our friend.”
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“How exactly did you meet Miss Durandal?” Alton asks, gently.
“Marion went to school with me, back in Bandon.” Victorinus speaks up, sniffling. “She was assigned to be my mentee through our clerical rights. I, uh.” She pauses, searching for a less embarrassing way to explain. “I dropped out. I’m not really cut out for divine magic.”
“Marion joined our history study group as a tag along when she showed up a few months ago,” Povondra expands. “We’re studying the history of magical warfare on the mainland. She wanted to read along while working on her application to Two Rivers City College.”
“Do you know what she planned to study?”
“From my understanding, she wasn’t interested in magic, divine or otherwise, and wanted to train as an archaeologist.” Povondra is more helpful than expected. “Girl’s got a thing for history, was actually pretty helpful tutor.” He catches himself. “Um, had. She had a thing for history. Sorry.”
Victorinus sniffles.
“You said that Marion moved out last week. Can you remember anything about why she moved?”
“Idiot up and had herself turned into a vampire, that’s what.” Victorinus sobs. “I knew we should have never gone to those meetings at your stupid Shrine.” Her balled fists flail uselessly against Auila’s heavy robes.
Auila squeezes her prayer ring tight. She does not flinch from the abuse.
“She should have never met them. She would have never been so curious if she’d never been taught to think them harmless.”
“Can you explain?” Cook asks, while underlining the last note repeatedly.
“I can,” Povondra responds, “they’re too busy beating themselves up about it to realize it’s not their fault. Just because she became a vamp doesn’t mean that’s why she’s ceased. Mar’ went to some of the Followers of St. Errigal meetings with Septimia - they’re not tied to any specific deity or anything, so ‘Mia’s always welcome.
Anyway, Mar’ must have hooked up with one of the vamps trying to get clean and ended up falling off the wagon with him. Or her. We haven’t met the lucky leech.” Povondra shrugs. “Last Sunday night she just snagged her stuff and left, fangs all out obvious like she’d been drinking recent.”
“None of you three know where she moved to?” Alton asks while Cook completes his notes.
“No,” Auila sighs, “like Ladi said, she just left in a hurry. She didn’t even say goodbye. It was not like her.”
“I know that vampirism changes a person,” Victorinus grumbles, “but I never thought it was that bad.”
Alton and Cook fail to learn anything more useful so they thank the students for their time, and head away from campus toward the shrine. They have some very important questions to ask a certain cleric, and hopefully, the vampire they need will be off work.