“Malvia?”

A voice called to me, breaking through the depths of slumber, and my eyes fluttered open as it spoke again.

“Malvia? Can you wake up?”

Above me, an angel, a halo of gold around his head, smiled gently down at me. That should frighten me, but instead, the sight filled me with warmth.

“Malvia? We need your help, so please wake up?”

I realized, suddenly, that it wasn’t an angel. It was Gregory Montague, with his head backlit by a chandelier, peering down at me with a smile that was actually more concerned than gentle. And from this angle, the way he looked down, was my head…?

No, I confirmed as my senses became clearer, and I felt wood with the back of my head. I did not have my head lying in his lap. Disappointment and relief warred inside me for dominance as the kneeling nobleman returned to his feet and offered me his hand.

I reached out with my own and froze as it came into view.

My right hand was a darker shade than the rest of me, going from my regular tone to pitch black at my fingers. I flexed it uncertainly, not feeling anything different. There’d be other changes, though. The Diabolic never left their changes skin-deep.

“Everything okay?” Gregory asked.

“No,” I answered. “But it can wait.”

I glanced around. The ballroom was almost empty; a few members of the Watch spread about within view, perhaps a dozen in total.

“How long did I sleep for?” I asked.

Looking through the windows, it was still dark out, with only the artificial light of the streetlamps, so probably the same night. Even if no one had bothered to move me, I doubted Lord Montague would have tolerated me sleeping in his ballroom throughout the day.

Then again, the fact Hawkins' cast off skin and innards, charred Infernal corpses, and rubble from the roof was still in the middle of the ballroom should have told me that.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Gregory admitted. “By the time those two Watchmen you’re acquainted with and I found a way off the roof, you had already passed out, and they had a doctor looking over your leg. It’s been about half an hour since then. Most guests have been taken outside while the Watch searches the manor.”

My broken leg had a splint on it now, one that I could feel going well past my knee. Which, since the skirt of my dress was still intact….I could only hope the doctor had enough respect to treat me like a person.

“Makes sense,” I said with a bit of forced cheer. “Get everyone into a wide, open area with fewer places for Changers to hide and try to replace people. Keep them there till everyone is accounted for. I’m assuming Malstein is somewhere in the manor?”

“The good captain is currently trying to negotiate with my father who remains holed up on the third floor,” Gregory said. “He’s rather swiftly learning the same irritation experienced by anyone who has had to endure my father for more than fifteen minutes. Lady Karsin and Edward are up there with him, and we’ve been finding pockets of guests, servants, and guards as the manor gets cleared. There are no other Shapechangers yet, but people are still unaccounted for. William, Voltar, and Dawes are still missing, maybe another twenty people besides them.”

It took me a second to remember who William was. The youngest brother, who I supposed probably didn’t deserve death by a shapechanger. But more importantly, Voltar and Dawes were still missing and that did not bode well.

“For the world’s greatest detective, he can truly lack intelligence,” I said. “Going off alone in your manor, just with Dawes, with a minimum of three shapechangers roaming about…two, I guess. Help me up?”

“Should you be walking around on that?” Gregory asked, but he did still offer me his hand.

“Well, as the doctor has decided to leave before giving me any instructions,” I said, grabbing his hand and pulling myself up. I winced as pain shot through my splinted leg, and I focused my weight on the other hoof. “I think I’ll be fine if I walk slowly. Can you find me a crutch, maybe?”

It was five minutes waiting for Gregory to find one, who knows from where, but I finally began to limp among the wreckage scattered in the ballroom. The stench was horrifying, charred corpse mixing with what resembled rotting eggs.

“Can you just sculpt away the broken leg?” Gregory asked.

“I can hasten the process some,” I replied, looking at the limb in question, knowing better than to try probing it for now. “It’ll still be weaker for a while, and I need time to work on it. But for tonight? Definitely not. So, I’m guessing you want me to help you look for any others?”

Gregory nodded. “What with you being able to hear those hiding in the carriages outside, I figured you could do it the best.”

“And not the Watch?”

Gregory looked around, making sure no officers were nearby. “The Watch are being cautious. Justifiably so, but they’re still searching the first floor.”

And he wanted to find his brother; the faster, the better. I could say no, but there wasn’t much point in doing so.

“I suppose it’s time to venture back into high society if we’re searching for your father’s guests,” I joked as I put my weight on my other hoof. “How do I look?”

Gregory hesitated, which told me all I needed to know. Hells, I could look down and tell all I needed to know.

“Do I at least not look completely like shit?” I asked.

“Can I say you still look nice?” Gregory said.

“I’m going to find a mirror eventually. Be honest.”

“Well, your face and head are both caked in that strange white ichor, you’ve got stab wounds and the broken leg, your dress is tattered, especially because the doctor didn’t want to take it off, so she ripped it open more, so she could stitch you up, and your right hand is well, corrupted?”

Hopefully, a good tub could fix all…well, maybe most…okay, some of that. “Good enough,” I said, limping around the charred corpse of one of the fake Black Flame.

“Poor bastards,” Gregory commented as we went past.

“They were idiots,” I muttered. “They fell for a con, dived headfirst into it, and now none of them will see what they’ve wrought.”

Gregory winced. “That seems a little harsh, doesn’t it?”

“I’m more angry than sad over it,” I told Gregory as I moved next to one of them, flesh charred and blackened where divine energy had touched. “Idiots, all of them. I don’t know what lies they got fed, but doing this with tensions as high as they are? Honestly, my only wish would be that they were alive, and that all the fallout from this only fell on them. They’re not the ones who are going to be clubbed by some bigot who hears that the Black Flame, no, Infernalkind as a whole, organized an assault on the good nobility of the empire. If I’d been thinking straight, I should have just had you char the lot of them when the first one opened fire. Fewer people would have died, and the ones burnt alive would have been the most deserving.”

I grabbed my focus, looping its chain around my neck instead of putting it back in my pocket. I could hardly hide my diabolism after falling through the roof, and it made it easier to grab. Besides, I needed the boost to both power and control. Diabolism was the only way I could fight them.

Going up onto the second floor, I hushed Gregory and listened. I couldn’t hear anything at all for a second, but eventually, my ear caught someone hyperventilating in a room up ahead. Someone had rushed inside very close to the Ballroom and had somehow gone undetected.

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The door didn’t open when I tried the handle, and the hyperventilating only worsened.

“It’s alright,” Gregory called out. “We’re here to help. Please open the door?”

The door suddenly swung open, revealing a wild-eyed William Montague who embraced his brother, arms wrapped around Gregory.

Then he saw me, his eyes widened even more, and he started screaming.

“William!” Gregory cried out. “It’s okay. Malv-Miss Waters is here with me, remember? What are you doing in here?”

The youngest Montague froze, his brother’s voice breaking him out of the panic my appearance had induced. “I…when everyone started hiding, I found this room, locked myself in, and have been hiding here since. Is anyone alive?”

“Close to everyone,” Gregory said, slowly removing his brother’s arms from around his waist. “Listen, it’s unsafe to be in the manor right now. Head to the ballroom, ask the Watch there, and they’ll escort you to where everyone is gathered outside. Just down the hall. Harry and Danielle and everyone else are out there.”

“Father?”

Gregory grimaced. “Not yet. Soon, though.”

I eyed the young Montague as he moved past me, doing his best not to look at me.

William Montague had been unaccompanied, and who knows how long he’d been on his own for. He didn’t smell of blood or death, but the changers before didn’t have that scent on them. Whether they could mask scents or were very good at removing the smell from clothing, they could hide that.

As William Montague continued down the hall, I drew my poisoned knife from its sheath.

Gregory’s breath hitched slightly as he looked down at the knife.

“What are you doing?!” He hissed, hands grabbing my wrist. My other hand reflexively went to claw at his grip, but I stopped it before it got too close.

“It's a paralytic on the knife,” I replied flatly. “We paralyze him. I poke around a bit, make sure he’s human.”

Gregory’s grip on my wrist tightened, and I wrenched it from his grasp, staring at him. His hands didn’t reach out again, but his stare was cold.

“Or, perhaps we don’t torture my brother and just take him back to the ballroom?”

“And if he is one?” I muttered.

“Then that’s something we’ll deal with when I see my brother’s corpse and not a second earlier,” Gregory said, glaring at me. “Put the knife away.”

I met his gaze, seconds passing, then quietly sheathed the knife.

“Mercy will cost you,” I chided him gently.

“Do you want to claim you don’t have any?” Gregory spat back. “I’m pretty sure my throat would be cut if that was the case.”

“Different circumstances,” I replied, limping further down the hall as William’s footsteps faded behind us. “I wasn’t running the risk of you being able to turn into a giant worm that would start fighting an entire company of Watch with flesh tentacles. But more importantly, know when mercy is useful and when it isn’t. This? The cost might end up being far too high. Sometimes, when the stakes get high enough, kindness can be the worst mistake.”

I moved past, heading deeper inside the manor's second floor, and kept going till my hearing caught something else.

Muffled yelling this time, the kind from having a gag put on you. I should know, having worn one myself a couple of weeks back. I limped towards it, Gregory a few steps behind, till I ended up at what looked like a closet.

I gestured towards it, then drew my knife while Gregory’s hands glowed, my skin itching as he called on Divine magic.

I grabbed the door and flung it open, revealing Voltar and Dawes, tied up with ropes and with gags of what looked like washcloths shoved inside their mouths.

“Any objection to me carving up these two to find out if they’re shapechangers?” I asked Gregory, drawing my knife and gesturing to the gagged detectives.

They immediately started yelling behind the gags while Gregory gave me another cold look.

“Really?” he asked, moving to untie Dawes first.

“Am I the only one trying to consider whether people are capable of changing shape while roaming around?” I asked, sheathing my knife again as Gregory started freeing Dawes. “Look, one little stab, I see if I can find anything about their anatomy that doesn’t make sense, and if they can mimic people perfectly, at least they’re paralyzed….wait. The paralytic didn’t work on Hawkins, so if they move after being jabbed, they would be a shapechanger!”

“Can you please stop suggesting poisoning people?” Gregory asked, only to be distracted by muffled grunts from Voltar. After a few seconds of that, with a sigh, he left the still mostly tied-up Dawes to free Voltar’s mouth.

“It’s not the worst suggestion,” Voltar said as soon as the gag was removed, earning a groan from Gregory and a muffled one from Dawes.

I was conflicted myself, caught between someone else actually agreeing my idea was good and the fact it was Voltar saying that.

“Not a perfect one,” he continued as Gregory began to work on the other ropes binding him, to Dawes’ visible disappointment. “If they aren’t a changer, they will be paralyzed for several hours. Also, if the changer is aware ahead of time that whatever cuts or stabs them has the paralytic, they’ll know to simulate its effects.”

“Oh, I have a fix for that,” I said eagerly. “They have nerves. They’ve reacted to wounds too much not to have them. You just cut to the extent it triggers an involuntary reaction, and if they twitch, they’re a changer.”

“Could you please stop suggesting torture?” Gregory asked, tone annoyed as he finally freed Voltar’s arms.

I kept a retort bottled up inside me. First, the Watch was no longer using it, now this. Was there some kind of cultural shift in torture that I hadn’t noticed? It had always been terrible for interrogation, but that didn’t mean it was entirely useless.

“Since no one seems to be in favor of testing with the only way to be certain,” I said to Voltar as he worked on removing the rest of the binds while Gregory moved to Dawes. “Let me ask you a question. My two half-siblings, besides Versalicci, tell me their names.”

Gregory’s hand slipped, earning a muffled protest from Dawes as the knife came close to his neck.

“You’re Versalicci’s half-sister?”

“Not relevant at the moment, but yes,” I replied, keeping my eyes on Voltar.

“Ask her which parent they share,” Voltar told Gregory.

"Enough,” I demanded of Voltar. “But also, what were their names?”

“Jane and Greyson,” he responded. “Your junior by two years and senior by three, respectively, both dead-“

“We don’t need to get into that,” I snapped. “You’re Voltar. How did you get tied up?”

“Chasing after the two of you,” he said with a very punchable grin.

“Shapechangers,” I said flatly.

“Well, I gave that good odds based on their body language and movement, missing a few key details about both of your appearances,” Voltar told me. “But there was a lingering idea in my mind that I might be wrong and after you and Gregory killed about forty people between the two of you, you decided to drag him further into the manor to blow off some steam.”

Gregory’s hand almost slipped again while I sputtered. The temptation to stab Voltar just so the paralytic would shut him up was climbing quite highly.

“But I realized after seeing you two throughout the night that wouldn’t be possible. He would be dragging you, not the other way around.”

Bait. He was trying to bait me. Why, I didn’t know, but I could ignore this easily.

“Maybe if you acted on your desires once in a while, you wouldn’t be such a fri-“

I put all my weight on my broken leg, the other ramming right between his legs. Agonizing pain went through my leg in the splint before I collapsed to the ground. It was worth every painful moment as Voltar collapsed.

I went for the wall, dragging myself back into a standing position while Voltar groaned.

Gregory had finally taken Dr. Dawes's gag off and gotten most of the bindings off. The doctor stepped out of the closet, looking cautiously from me to the prone and groaning form of Voltar.

“I am not apologizing,” I told him icily.

Dawes held his hands up placatingly. “I don’t blame you. A line was crossed. One that Voltar would normally not do.”

“Oh, really?” I said, the ice in my voice turning to venom. “That’s strange, I would say the opposite. Why, Doctor, should I believe you on this?”

He sighed, then leaned down to help his companion.

“You have been far too pointed in your remarks,” Gregory added, icily looking down at Voltar. “I thought better of you in the past, detective.”

“Oh, psst,” Voltar said from the ground, waving a hand dismissively. “If I really wanted to make her upset, I’d aim some of the things dwelling in her past. Tell me something Malvia, have you ever told Gregory about the One-horns?”

“Do you want to get kicked again?” I shot back acidly. “I’m willing to break another leg getting my message across.”

“How did you break the first one?” Voltar asked, a vulpine grin on his face as he got all the way back up.

“Handling a shapechanger,” I said. “We have Hawkins. So the night hasn’t been a complete waste.”

“A changer?” Voltar asked excitedly. “You actually caught one?”

“Less caught and more rotted him to the point what’s left isn’t shapechanging as easily,” I said. “Best guess? They have a reservoir they draw on for the changes. I’m unsure how they refill it, but he exhausted his. The Watch has him now.”

“I need to talk to him,” Voltar said, beginning to pace. “Malstein will want him first of course, and then perhaps other officers in the Watch who are interested. I have leverage, though, so I can probably secure a time to talk ahead of some of them.”

“I’d like to speak to him as well,” I said. “I have my own questions I want answered. Maybe the both of us together if they aren’t willing to do two separate ones.”

“Hrrm,” Voltar said, considering for barely a second. “Perhaps. Honestly, just give me the questions and I’ll ask them for you.”

My hands grabbed his lapels, forcing the detective against the wall. Startled, he stared down at me as if in disbelief I’d laid a finger on him. It didn’t take long for an almost vulpine grin to reappear on his face.

“No, Voltar,” I spat. “This is not a ‘perhaps’. I have been acting at your direction, enduring your barbs, and listening to your remarks at me this entire time. I’ve been pulled around by half a dozen people, including you, all trying to play me for the fool. I took down Hawkins while you were busy getting yourself caught and tied up in a closet. I earned this,-”

A click next to my head. I froze, then slowly turned to see the muzzle of a revolver aimed at my head by Dawes. No.

Then I felt something, just a light sensation on my skin. Divine magic, tickling since it hadn’t been unleashed yet. No. I was a fool for that to feel like a betrayal. My masks were pieces at this point, to have little nothings affect me this much, but I could stop it from feeling like ice stabbed into my ear.

“I…” my voice caught in my throat, and I forced my gaze onto Dawes and not in the other direction. “I’m not going to hurt him Dr. Dawes.”

“Normally, I’d believe that,” he said. “And I understand feeling like he sometimes needs a good punch or two. Not a word Voltar, you know you have. But until that Focus of yours stops burning, let him go.”

My..? I glanced down and saw my focus still hanging from it’s chain in front of my dress, burning with a black flame that didn’t spread. Only now did I realize I’d been gathering up diabolism, pulling on it, only to do….what?

I let go of Voltar’s lapels, the detective slumping to the ground. I struggled to find something to say, but too ashamed and angry, I just turned around and stalked back towards the ballroom.