I got out of the chair, too late to chase after Varrow.

“I’m not working for Versalicci!” I protested as he neared the window. “I’m here on my own business.”

To my relief, he did not leap through the window. To my dismay, he pulled a saber from a wooden umbrella stand. A pockmarked and rusted thing, but a blade that I couldn’t ignore.

I forced myself not to draw any weapons of my own. I wouldn’t provoke him if I could avoid him. Not that every instinct was screaming at me to do so.

“Not being here on Versalicci’s order doesn’t make you less dangerous,” Varrow said, eyes steadily fixed on mine despite the racking cough accompanying his words. “What do you want?”

“Information on a gang,” I said. “Also, to see how you’ve been progressing since I gave you that shot.”

His eyes narrowed. He took a couple of steps closer, the point of the saber not wavering. It pointed towards the middle of my head.

“You’re claiming to be Ms. Falara,” he said.

“Claiming, nothing,” I said. “When you visited my apartment a few days ago, I gave you your regular medicine and an injection as well. Right after, you bragged about training me, Golvar, and a few others. Oh, and after you almost got into a fistfight with Kalasyp and then almost threw yourself out a window to escape Voltar.”

Varrow scowled. “I did not get into a fistfight with the rich blighter or run out that window. It was a full story up. But it’s detailed enough. Makes more sense than Skall being her.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said graciously.

He snorted in response, which turned into a series of convulsive coughs.

“Take it as an insult. You’re the only one cold enough to pull off a disguise. Skall was a fucking lunatic who I had you lot chase off three times for a reason. Girl couldn’t see past her next meal and it’s why she got suckered into casting the devil’s magic so easy. You don’t have that excuse.”

“Sanctimony sits poorly on you, considering who introduced me to Versalicci, to begin with,” I said, tone hardening. “You want to judge me, Varrow? How many people, how many children have you led into his clutches? How many more like me did he get his claws into so you could keep operating in his territory, and enjoy his protection?”

“I introduce, I didn’t force any of you into joining him,” Varrow countered. “I didn’t tell you to sit by his side telling him which poisons were perfect for drawing out pain, or to carve into people, or anything else you did. You trying to absolve yourself of your past actions, Harrow? Pretend it was all because of someone else?”

A reply about being fourteen when this had all started sat on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it. Varrow was only a few paces away, face flushed while his saber remained steady.

“I came here because of new business,” I said. “Not the past.”

“I’m not interested in the past, and that includes you in it,” Varrow replied. “And I don’t care who else you drag in as part of it.”

“Voltar is part of it,” I said. “And backing me, so it depends on how much you want to needle him.”

Varrow turned, and as my hands closed around a knife’s pommel, he threw his saber.

The weapon hit the floor, a chip of wood flying as the blade slammed into it. Cursing at me, Versalicci, Voltar, and the world in general, Varrow slumped down into the armchair.

I left him alone to brood for a bit. Either he’d decide to help or he wouldn’t, and prodding him wouldn’t turn out well. I went to the kitchen, not to fix anything but just to give him space.

The minutes passed by. Eventually, he called me back in with a voice more belonging to the dead than Varrow.

I walked back in, standing a good five feet across from him. Close enough to hear a whisper, far enough away to give him a shred of security. Only a shred.

“First thing, what did you inject into me two days ago?”

“Extract of a salamander,” I answered. “It should attack the disease in your lungs, although it’s taking longer than I expected. It was a more permanent solution to your issues.”

“Ominous,” Varrow chuckled, causing a fresh round of coughing. “Guessing that’s gone up in smoke with your apartment?”

“For now. It doesn’t need to be that way forever.”

“That’s what you’re going to pay me with? Dangle a wa-”

“No, that’s free,” I clarified. “Your payment is coming out of Voltar’s pocket. I just meant that I don’t know if I can acquire more Salamander extract. I do owe you.”

“I ain’t certain if that’s supposed to be a comfort or a threat,” Varrow muttered. “Alright, name what you want and I’ll name a price that I suppose Voltar will pay.”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

I hadn’t even broached the thought with Voltar yet, but if he would force me into dealing with Versalicci, I’d make his coffers a mite lighter.

“Pure Bloods. They’re mixed up in a mess involving many people. You heard of them?”

“Racist gang from the docks?” Varrow got up from his chair, moving towards the kitchen. “Everyone here’s heard of them. Now at least, since they stabbed Golvar to death. Before? I’d heard of them if only cause no one wants to be in a territory that wants you dead just for having horns. What do you need to know on them?”

“Locations. Important ones. Preferably their old hideout.”

Varrow walked back in, plate and cup in hand. He offered nothing, and I didn’t ask as he sat back down in the armchair.

“Old one? Think they’ve shifted places, do you?”

“Underground is the most likely possibility. But they have to base their surface operations out of somewhere.”

“True. And I know the most likely place. But first, you gotta promise me one thing.”

“Depends on what it is,” I said, frowning. “Nothing too onerous?”

“No, I’m just going to ask you not to use whatever in the hells Versalicci had you get rid of the One-horns with. I get good fish only a pier down from their hideout and I ain’t giving it up till I’m sure all the tainted fish are gone.”

Oh. That.

“I wouldn’t use that again,” I said. “And even if I would, it’s all gone, anyway. Versalicci ordered it all destroyed for being too hard to control. I warned him about that, but-”

“Anyone could have warned him about that,” Varrow interrupted. “I could have from when I saw those fools in the army try to use it to cover an advance. There’s a difference between advising and making, and it should be the latter when you’re using air that chokes people to death.”

I swallowed an argument. “We’re here to discuss current business, not past business. We can discuss that later after this mess is handled.”

“And what is this mess?”

“Do you want to know? All I need is a location, Varrow, and we can leave your involvement at only that.”

“And I don’t imagine my involvement in this mess is going to end at this. I’m an old man who wants to be left alone, Harrow.”

My lips quirked, almost forming a smile. “Alright.”

So I told the story, leaving a few details out for my benefit. And for Tolman and Arsene, who didn’t need any attention brought down on their heads. The sun set, and the moon was ascending the sky as I finished the tale.

Varrow was quiet for a few seconds, then a few minutes. Finally, he spoke.

“Shape-changers? I’m supposed to believe that?”

I didn’t know what was stranger, that he was questioning my account or that he was the first person questioning my account. I supposed Voltar has probably found other evidence to support it perhaps, and Versalicci, well, he may very well have asked the Duke about it.

“Does you believing in it change if you’ll tell me?” I asked. “You wanted to know. I gave you an answer. It’s not my responsibility to convince you of its truth.”

Varrow grunted. “Two hundred pounds is the cost. And only once I’ve seen the money.”

“Fair enough. I can find you again here?”

“When I decide to cut and run, it’ll be after getting my coin, not before. Unless I start hearing rumors about me helping you, in which case I’m running out of your rat trap.”

“Fair enough.”

It was a hefty sum, but I imagine Voltar could be convinced to part with it.

And if not, well, there could only be so many piers near the fish shop Varrow liked.

***

“You want me to pay your vagrant mentor two hundred pounds?”

I was back in the same room I, Voltar, and Dawes had talked in previously, although it was only me and Voltar now. Outside, the moon had ascended past the window’s view, and I stifled a yawn. It had been an hour of recapping everything that had occurred since I left, and only now had I reached the end.

“He’s got a place where he lives, which makes him not a vagrant,” I said. “And yes, I want you to pay him two hundred pounds. Consider it an investment.”

“I already have an information network that does not need adding a con-man and pickpocket. I have several I trust far more than him, both in terms of their ability and general trustworthiness.”

I took a sip of tea, enjoying the sweet, musky taste as I drank. I needed to ask what blend this was at some point.

“But do they know where this hideout is?” I asked.

“They don’t. I know where we can find it. Varrow is a creature of habit and doesn’t even need to be tailed to find out where the fish shop he buys seafood is, as he only ever leaves half blocks of time free, meaning there’s perhaps a mile and a half of piers that can be reached in time for a return trip. A bit broad of an area, but even if the Pure Bloods have learned subtlety, their movements will leave traces behind. Do you wish me to continue?”

“No.” I put the cup of tea down, sighing. “You’ve made your point. Still, it would save time, and I owe the old man. I’m willing to pay you back if you do this for me.”

“Seems to me the simplest way to help him would be to keep treating him. Salamander extract should do the trick, so unless you decide not to keep him supplied, that shouldn’t be an issue.”

“That depends on me being paid. Something we haven’t discussed, again because you don’t need to do it. You already have a set of swords over my head, remember?”

“Oh, you shouldn’t worry about costs. We pay our contractors well, and their expenses. But that’s more a discussion for when Dawes is back.”

Oh, but I worried, not so much about costs and more about becoming one of their ‘contractors’. I wanted to be rid of all of this by the end, a fantasy I’d continue to cling to till everything keeping it hanging had been cut.

“But enough on Varrow. There’s been a variety of things to consider because of today. Your brother-”

“Not my brother. Factually incorrect,” I interrupted.

Voltar rolled his eyes. “Your half-brother-”

“Family is more than just blood,” I said, cutting him off to clearly mounting frustration. “Just because we share blood doesn’t make us siblings, and I’d ask you not to do so in the future.”

Voltar considered that for a second before starting again.

“Considering his mentorship and help, he’s provided you, your surrogate father-”

“What do you get out of provoking me, Voltar?” I asked. “You already have a sword over my head. You can drop anytime. Several, in fact, between Montague and the Imperial government. Are you trying to irritate me?”

“Yes, I am, for a few reasons. An easily provoked Diabolist is useless, and also because I’ll need you composed for our next little journey.”

He’d already picked up a lead for us to follow? Also why would I need to be composed?

“I still need to regrow my eye. And examine those rocks. If they are from a petrified person, we should be able to match up at least some of the fragments to create, well…a piece of whoever was petrified. And there’s other methodologies, but they’d create more of a mess.”

Reversing petrification on a portion of a body not put back together would probably result in a blood-splattered mess. For an instant, all the systems of life would return and try to function and then suffer the logical result of them being disconnected from the rest of the body.

“There will be time for you to do both of those things and discuss your discoveries, but after we need to pursue our next lead. Ms. Harrow, have you ever been to Lord Montague’s estate?”