Chapter 79: Among Us
[Harvey: Don’t trust your eyes.]
On its own, this was a generic bit of advice, broadly applicable to everything from walking at night to the dangers of mass media. Every message had its own time and place however, and given that I’d last seen Harvey before he set off to meet a shady colleague in some back alley, the implications weren’t pleasant. My first thought was that he’d been caught by the law, my second of a betrayal between thieves. The third was that I had no time for navel-gazing, so I concluded that something strange was afoot and left it at that, before opening up my Contacts list.
[Pumpkin - Level 3 Cat
Placing a call, please stand by.]
I’d yet to go all the way on this, so I wasn’t entirely sure what success sounded like, but success wasn’t necessary to recognise failure, so when the ringback tone cut off in a buzz of static, not even bothering with a System update, I knew that we’d been made. Matron Bayard had mentioned the many weapons a Contact could be subverted, and though she’d only explicitly noted the Find Contact spell, I could connect the dots to the present scenario. That was the first of two realisations that night, the second being the soft footsteps in the distance, growing just a little louder with every step. I glanced towards the window, considering my options; my room was only one floor up, making an emergency descent a trivial matter. I knew well enough how to duck and roll with a fall, and my newfound constitution would handle the rest, but after a moment’s thought I decided to hold off for the time being.
Harvey’s message hadn’t mentioned a timeline, and I’d raise all sorts of red flags by taking a running leap out the window, even if the new arrival proved innocuous. That was a last resort, for after I gathered a bit more information. The first knock on the door came right as I made my decision, followed by two more hard thumps.
“Who’s there?” I asked, injecting an appropriate amount of suspicion for the stranger approaching me at night.
“It’s me,” Harvey’s voice replied. “I got word back from the client, are you ready to go?”
On the one hand, the voice was a dead ringer for my erstwhile companion slash mentor in crime. The footsteps were suspicious though, as Harvey was normally a lot quieter, able to sneak up on me with frustrating ease, a trait he shared with Pumpkin, though the former at least didn’t use it to prank me. That said, this wasn’t anything definitive, as Harvey was fully capable of making noise deliberately, which was good practice around people who carried knives and disliked being startled. Other people, obviously, for I was a man of impeccable composure and would never fall for such silly tricks. Ahem.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Is it just the two of us, or have you summoned backup?”
I decided it was a suitable opening question, fishing for information, because this was all a bit too convenient for my liking.
“The drivers wouldn’t be of any use, and it wouldn’t be wise to use my book. The masses watched our arrival earlier, and I’d bet my last gild someone’s keeping track of numbers. Strange, unaffiliated men popping up out of nowhere will get people screaming of demons.
All of this was true, and implied a familiarity with the Thief of Souls Class, which pointed towards this being Harvey. Unfortunately, it still wasn’t enough to rule out betrayal, because others in the Dead Hand would have known this much too.
“I’m good to go,” I confirmed, ruffling my shirt audibly to give a show of packing up. “Do we have time to wait for Pumpkin though? Three is typically better than two.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say no to another pair of hands, but are you sure? Numbers are good, until they stick a knife in your back over the spoils. Gold as a way of corrupting even honest men, especially what passes for honesty in our trade.”
A fake then, I realised immediately. The impostor’s answers had been spot on for everything else, indicating a familiarity with our caravan, criminality and our specific goals. Pumpkin on the other hand threw him off, because I hadn’t mentioned the cat’s name since entering Heaven’s Reach. The fake thought it was a codename for another crook, when I knew full well that the glutton would not give a single toss about gold coins, unless they are of the chocolate variety.
“We can go now then,” I grumbled, affecting the dull, muted tone of a child being scolded by their elder when trying to get their way.
It was something Will had a lot of practice with back in the orphanage, though I never needed such base tactics to get my way in either life.
[Knife withdrawn.]
My inventory still worked, whatever was disrupting communications not affecting the rest of the System, letting me arm myself without giving the game away as I unlocked the door and pulled it open.
“I’m glad to hear you saw sense,” Harvey exclaimed, stepping inside without a care in the world.
“I don’t like sharing,” I agreed wholeheartedly, and stuck the knife in his eye.
[50 XP gained for killing a Changeling.]
In typical fashion, the System only informed me of my achievement once the results were blindingly obvious, pun intended. An ordinary man would fall to the floor bonelessly, after a knife to the brain. A Changeling evidently preferred to burst into purple flames, scorching away all of their flesh and leaving behind a distorted skeleton the size of my palm, one common enough to be drawn on posters used by caretakers to scare naughty children. That was the only depiction Changelings ever got, since portraying their living form was futile for obvious reasons. This was fine, and the experience was great, but the bone-chilling death scream, I could have done without. At least the skeleton provided an ironclad alibi when seconds later, the innkeeper and a pair of adventurers sprinted up the stairs, weapons drawn.