It took far too much time to return to the Infernal Quarter. I hadn’t asked about a carriage to take me back, simply retrieved my belongings and started my journey on foot. Going on foot meant a long trip hoping no one paid too much attention to me or felt tempted to try and steal the small bag of my belongings slung across my back. Most days, that would just be a case of not wanting to be gawked at, but today, the memory of those marchers still fresh in my mind? I just wanted to make it to the Quarter.

I could spend at least half a day there before the rest of the world decided to drag me out of there once again.

I had no doubt I’d end up at the Montague estate sooner rather than later. Lord Montague would send agents who couldn’t be talked out of going, and I’d have to talk him out of accidentally killing his own son.

That could wait. You could never tell exactly how fast the poison would progress, but it sounded like Edward Montague was still in the latter part of the middle stage. He could wait a day or two while I handled other business. Some of which had become urgent if I really was going to abandon this identity.

That….I could commit to it, of course. I just needed to talk to two people first. Preferably Tolman first so I could have an ally when I tried to convince Arsene. As is, it was becoming too late in the day to find Tolman alone. His match with Ironhand Jack would be at least a week away, so he’d probably be having dinner with Arsene and the trio they’d adopted off the streets right now. If we could get the kids out of the way, we could have a discussion.

I headed directly there as soon as I made it into the Quarter, which brought me close enough to the marcher’s chanting. Hopefully, their numbers would have bled throughout the day as heat and hunger forced some of them back to their homes. They apparently retained enough to still be heard, and to my mild dismay, the streets were emptier than normal.

The usual teeming mass of Infernalkind was now a tickle, and most of those looked nervous. Had a clash occurred while I was out, or had the marchers intimidated most to stay inside? Either way would be bad news.

Tolman’s apartment was the remnants of a shop from before the Quarter had been scoured for soldiers to fight in the empire’s many wars. You could see the post where they’d taken the sign down. It had been a pawn shop beforehand, which might explain why its owners had been dragged out to fight in the Avenland campaigns.

They hadn’t shown up yet, but if they did I didn’t see that confrontation ending well for either party. Assuming they were alive and not buried somewhere.

I rapped my knuckles on the door, waiting till I heard a voice call out that the door was unlocked. Not the voice I wanted to hear, but hopefully Tolman was home as well.

A green-skinned Infernal looked at me with weary resignation from what had once been the counter of the store, now turned into part of the kitchen. He was currently in the process of cutting up what might be a fish. It might also be part of a giant frog, but this far away, I couldn’t tell.

“Arsene,” I said. “I expected to find Tolman here as well. Is he out?”

“Training,” Arsene said testily. “For some fool fighting match he wants to have with Ironhand Jack. I don’t suppose you have anything to do with that, do you, Malvia?”

I bit back a curse, staring at the stairs. “Do not mention my name where your children might hear it, they-”

“-are asleep because they wore themselves out early. And even if they weren’t, they know better than to mention your name,” Arsene replied sternly, cutting me off. I held back my own reply. Arsene’s tone made it clear his tolerance of me being in here was slim.

Still, I expected him to have more common sense than this. Children always eavesdropped when given a chance, and they always talked. They lacked the sense not to.

“I tried talking him out of Ironhand Jack. I don’t want to reattach his horns again, and frankly, I want him out of that business entirely.”

“So he can work for you more often instead?”

“With anyone, Arsene. Not just me. I don’t make him, and I don’t lean on him.”

“But you don’t dissuade him,” Arsene countered.

“I tried at first. He feels he needs to keep an eye on me, so I might as well get you and him some coin out of it.”

Arsene’s eyes narrowed as he continued to cut up the mystery meat.

“You didn’t need to come here to say that,” he stated. “Unless you thought I was too dumb to notice my husband’s very poor excuses for where he’s been spending his time. Why are you here, Malvia?”

“How much has Tolman told you of what’s happened the last few days?”

“Very little,” Arsene said flatly.

I sighed. It would be better coming from Tolman than me, but since I had no idea when he’d return, the task fell to me.

“Golvar recognized me in the street,” I said flatly. “As Katheryn Falara. He knew my disguise well enough to recognize and call me out while I was walking on the streets. Thanks to that, I’m now mixed up in a whole new mess, and even worse, Versalicci keeps on trying to force a meeting with me.”

“Really? Mixed up with what?” Arsene asked me lightly.

I choked back a growl. He was not taking this seriously.

“Voltar. Nobles. The Watch. Oh, and Versalicci, who has been trying to have me meet with him. Politely now, since the first few attempts didn’t go well.”

Arsene sighed. “You poked the bear, didn’t you?”

“I’ve done nothing of the sort,” I protested. “I’ve been dragged into most of this against my will and have been doing my best to get disentangled from it! Which is why I’m here. In the coming days, I’m going to disappear, perhaps from the quarter, perhaps from the city entirely. Katheryn Falara isn’t showing up again. And Arsene and Tolman Moray probably shouldn’t either.”

“Taking the easy path out?” Arsene finished chopping up his meat, considering me with a contemptuous gaze. “Things get rough, just pack up and go, leaving nothing important behind?”

“I am hardly leaving ‘nothing’ behind,” I hissed, getting up from the table. He would not dare-

“Oh. Right, I almost forgot about her. I suppose, in the end, getting abandoned once again shouldn’t hurt her too-”

“You do not get to say anything about that,” I snarled. “It does not involve you-”

“I’m pretty sure it does,” he cut me off, voice calm but firm. “More than likely, it was you visiting her that gave it away in the first place. So now that you’ve put all three of us at risk by visiting her, you’ll do the noble thing of cutting yourself off from her?”

“I’ll make arrangements. If anything, take the fact I’m willing to do this as a sign of how serious this is, Arsene. And how seriously you should be taking this. Do you think Versalicci is going to take you hating me as something in your favor when he finally gets around to you and Tolman?”

Arsene snorted. “I don’t hate you, Malvia. I just think you’ve crumbled at the slightest bit of pressure. Gods and devils together, you were more put together back when we were in the Black Flame. I’m not leaving. Tolman isn’t either, so if you’re going to run from your problems, Malvia, do it by yourself.”

“I am trying to help you,” I hissed. “If Versalicci makes the right connection and realizes who you and Tolman actually are, do you think he’s going to be easier than moving out of the city?”

“It’s a problem because Tolman decided to start working with you again,” he replied. “If my fool of a husband knew better, this wouldn’t be a problem dragged in by whatever fool scheme you’ve involved him in.”

I’d involved Tolman in what could barely be called a scheme on my end, but I ignored that for now. Anything to keep our conversation on something I could actually focus on.

“Golvar knew who I was, Arsene. I hadn’t encountered him at all as Falara, and the first time I crossed his path, he knew who I was. How much are you willing to lay on the line for the chance he doesn’t know who you and Tolman were before?”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“A fair bit,” Arsene said. “If Versalicci has his eyes on us, it’s not me or Tolman that he’ll be interested in.”

“Don’t play stupid with me,” I said forcefully. “Is he going to want my hide first, for a variety of reasons? Yes. Is he going to let you and Tolman off with barely a cross word sent your way? Ignoring the skills he’ll figure he’s owed for investing into, he’s got an image he likes to keep very protected. Part of that image is no one leaves the Black Flame without his say-so. Do you think he won’t uphold that? Or the fact we stole from him? Or deserted right as Understreet kicked off?”

“And I think he’s more interested in getting you back for a variety of reasons,” Arsene said. “He’ll not be interested in a pair who he’s clearly tolerated just because you’ve done something to irritate him.”

“I..” I couldn’t think of anything to say. Arsene wasn’t taking this seriously and seemed to be considering Versalicci more like an irritated neighbor than anything else. “Arsene, you were there the day he showed me what happens to traitors. I was fourteen, which meant I was too dumb and immature to fully absorb what happened. You were neither.”

“You’re still dumb and immature,” he said. “As proven in the past. As proven now. Your one good idea was practically fed to you, and you took so damn long to do it people paid with their lives. And Johnazen’s crimes against the boss were much greater than our own.”

“Greater in what way?” I replied, ignoring long-treaded ground. “We betrayed the boss and ripped him off, Arsene. Does that mean he’ll merely slit your throats instead of feeding you to a swarm of diabolist-tainted rats?”

“Perhaps. In which case, me not being so short-sighted, me and Tolman will use the other preparations I have made just in case the worst happened. Do you think we’ve spent the last few years preparing for this possibility as lazily as you have, Malvia? Or that going to Versalicci will end with you dead? He’s not going to hurt you any more than he thinks is necessary for a lesson, and that’s pretty damn light. You aren’t solving this problem by running from it.”

My reply died in my throat, both because of the shock and the fact that he was right. Arsene didn’t pause to give me a chance to reply, continuing onwards.

“You have no idea what you are saying at all.”

He ignored me.

“I’m not putting the children through that as well. Having to change towns, change lives, constantly being on edge, I’m not going to inflict that on them. I’m sure I and Tolman will discuss it further, but that’s for us and our children to discuss. Not you, Malvia. Now, please leave before any tails you’ve picked up start thinking we are mixed up in your mess.”

I tried to say something and found nothing. So I left with as much of myself as I could gather.

I could hardly force Tolman and Arsene to go through changing their whole lives again. Arsene had damn good points why not to as well. The test of a mask is how well it withstands pressure.

That didn’t mean he was right about anything, but it did mean he couldn’t be talked into this. That left Tolman to try and work.

I didn’t care how convinced Arsene was about his and Tolman’s safety, Versalicci did not tolerate traitors.

Alright. I needed to focus on something else instead. Shelter, for one thing. Staying at my apartment was out of the question, the same for my lab. Crashing at Tolman’s or at the Guild was also out. I still had Lord Montague’s advance tucked away on my person, so I could maybe rent, but my options there were limited. I didn’t particularly want to run the risk of someone deciding to club me in my sleep in order to get the rest of my money, if not slit my throat.

The Hell’s Own was an option. A pricey option, and with its own specific issue. I’d have to cross the line formed by the Marchers from earlier to make it there. That or walk a full half of the quarter and then back again.

The sounds of those chants had grown quiet, but the quarter had not replaced the noise with anything else. The sun was slowly setting, yes, but the quarter was quieter than even when the moon reached its apex.

Something had happened while I was gone.

***

Sometimes, the absence of something paints as clear a picture as the presence of something.

There was no one in Salenbury Avenue but the Watch. No bodies, no abandoned signs or placards, no discarded weapons, just three or so of the city’s finest every thirty feet watching the intersecting streets and alleys. That, and the occasional patch of dried blood.

I paused at the edge of the street, embracing an all too real hesitancy as I got the attention of a Watchwoman.

“Sorry,” I said meekly. “Is it okay to cross? I just saw the Marchers earlier, but I haven’t been around since, and if there’s a curfew or something going into effect, I really need to get home.”

“No curfew as of yet,” the Watchwoman said. She was a young Keltish woman who seemed a little easier going than her two companions, who eyed me with suspicion. “Street’s alright for crossing, but no traveling along it, okay?”

I didn’t bother to ask what had happened, that information could be more easily and accurately gotten from my destination, so I crossed ahead while doing my best imitation of a good Imperial citizen.

Hells, I tried to be one, minus the occasional lawbreaking most of the time.

The surrounding streets weren’t as deserted as Salenbury Avenue, but they were emptier than usual. It felt weird, and unsafe, despite the fact that the crowded nature of the Quarter’s streets had never made it safe. Still, being out with the sun still up and being more than twenty paces from a person felt almost like walking around naked.

I shivered, then made for a side alley. The quicker I made it to Hell’s Own, the better.

I should have known that even thinking those thoughts would invite disaster.

It was only approaching the end of the alley that I realized someone was heading the other way. Someone who definitely was not an Infernal.

I eyed the human suspiciously. Clad in dockworker’s garb, he resembled other members of the Pure-blood gang. Figuring caution was more important, I turned around only to spot another one bearing a top hat was entering the far end of the alley.

Top hats. Their wearers seemed to be my bane recently. Surely not something I could lay against the fashion piece itself of course, and I suppose Gregory Montague wasn’t too much of a stain on their reputation.

Then again, I wasn’t related to any of the women or possibly men he’d been involved with.

The top hat-wearing one walked with a grace and sense of balance far beyond what he should have. I wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t one of the more popular fads in Biosculpting. Someone had altered this one with a lesser version of the natural grace of an elf. Just enough to be sure of his footing at all times. Once you knew what to look for, the subtle alteration to a human’s gait it produced was unmistakable.

Either Golvar had been lying or this one had invested into some very subtle Biosculpting. It was subtle enough that he could pass it off as just a quirk of his natural biology if he didn’t demonstrate it too often. Still, if he could afford this, he must be fairly high up in their hierarchy.

I wonder which elf had been knifed for the parts?

“Good morning, gentlemen!” I said with forced cheer. “I am Katheryn Falara. What brings you two to the District so early in the day?”

“Beating up Foulhorns,” the one I’d spotted first. He continued at a steady pace down the alleyway.

“Excuse my colleagues' inaccuracies. We haven’t laid a hand on any of your kind yet, although not for a lack of willingness,” Top Hat said.

My forced smile faded. No need to hide how I actually felt. I kept my hands inside my coat, not even bothering to hide they were ready to draw weapons.

“It’s amazing how well you navigate the district, considering you don’t live here,” I mused. “After today’s events, I doubt anyone would be happy to find you two still inside the quarter.”

“Nah,” the first one said. “Flash some steel, and as long as there ain’t a lot of your kind you all scatter to the wind. Foulhorns ain’t big on courage, ain’t you?”

“Delightful,” I hissed. “While I’d love to debate the particulars of that, I have pressing appointments elsewhere, so I’m going to leave. Unless either of you objects?”

“There lies a problem then,” Top Hat said. He pulled a knife out of his coat, which was completely inadequate as a weapon. His companion though pulled out a longsword, even bigger than mine. A plain claymore. Who in the hells uses a regular claymore these days?

I pulled my pistol and saber out, which they didn’t even hesitate upon seeing.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” I warned the first one. A lie, I really did, after the day I’d had. Hell, being able to disappear soon gave me an easy out of the consequences, but damnations, I did not want to be mixed up in this.

I moved towards one of the walls, keeping my movements slow. Having nowhere to run wasn’t a good option, but not being able to see both Pure-bloods at once would be even worse.

Top Hat snorted, keeping the same steady pace as he walked towards me. “Tell that to our mates. You know how many of my friends have died because of you, Foulhorn?”

“I’ll guess anywhere between none and all,” I replied. “I’d argue I didn’t have much of a choice in either case. You keep on attacking someone, don’t be surprised when they fight back.”

Top Hat grinned, and his hand gestured towards me.

Something grabbed my arms, slamming them against the wall. I gasped only for something to force my jaw together, snapping my mouth shut.

Top Hat grinned, strutting closer while his companion kept a wary eye on his end of the alley. A mage of some kind, he had to be.

I strained against whatever magic bound me, but it was like pushing against a wall of stone. Nothing budged, and as I pushed it lifted me in the air, yanking my limbs up as it dragged me a half-foot off of the ground. My tail lashed out only to be rammed into the alley wall.

Whatever force Top Hat wielded pushed against the side of my head, my neck bending as the back of my head scraped against the rough wooden wall behind me.

“You know, what pisses me off the most is that the boss says we have to keep you alive,” he murmured, putting the back of his hand against my cheek and slowly dragging it across. “If it were my call, I’d just snap your neck here and leave you in the alley, but orders are orders. We gotta do this the easy way or the hard way?”

“Easy way’s rope, hard way is we break all your limbs and shove you in a crate,” his companion informed me.

I strained against Top Hat’s touch, trying so desperately to be able to move my neck I almost didn’t notice the force on my jaw vanishing.

I could move my jaw. This was going to hurt. I bit the inside of my cheek and felt the blood flood my mouth. So close to waking, my own flesh would suffice as I bit off a strip of my cheek, devouring it.

Finally

Inside my gut, something stirred. Top Hat paused, hand still on my cheek. Not for long.

His hand withered, shrinking in on itself as skin blackened and wrinkled. His wrist snapped as he yanked his arm back. Nails fell out, scattering onto the floor, followed by his hand as it sloughed off the rotting end of his arm. His hold on me released, and I drove an elbow into his companion’s gut.

The Pure-blood screamed as skin sloughed off his stick-thin arm, exposing bone and strings of black, corrupted flesh.

The force holding me against the wall vanished and I moved into action, pistol already aiming.

My bullet rammed between his eyes, cutting off the scream.

The second one was still backpedaling as I charged, saber at the ready. I wasn’t a very skilled fighter with a blade, but it mattered little. Terror had seized him, and it took very little time to capitalize on it.

My blade slit his throat, sending blood spewing across me. He slumped against the wall, light fading fast from his eye as blood came out.

Feast, a voice commanded me inside my own head.

Unconsciously, my jaw opened.