Bits of flesh were still in my mouth, caught between my teeth in stringy chunks hanging out and dripping blood all over the ground. I essentially was nothing but blood, the only parts not splattered in ichor covered by blood-soaked clothing instead.
I struggled to think of something, anything to say as an explanation for why I resembled a blood-soaked predator eating out the innards of a cow. I couldn’t say anything.
“I’ll take them to the guestroom,” Tagashin-as-Voltar assured me, nudging the two Montagues towards the door. “Give you a chance to freshen up.”
My eyes narrowed as the Kitsune herded the Montagues back out, away from the sea of cow corpses and me. Here I lay, like a beast, half-buried in cow guts. An animal.
That Kitsune was going to pay before the day was over.
I won’t have you finish, The Imp whispered to me. However, if you ever get a chance to bite into that particular breed of furred flesh, it would count for-
“No,” I said, finally finding my voice again. “You won’t make me cross lines that easily. Besides, I have something else in mind.”
***
I’d taken time for a bath that had ended with the tub needing to be drained three times, each time carrying water turned crimson from the amount of blood carried away. The shade had paled a bit each time until the fourth time I entered the tub it remained mostly clear.
Now I just resembled a drowned rat instead of a blood-soaked beast, wet and shivering as I started drying myself off. I’d dunked under the water so many times trying to get all the blood off, but drying off the towels were still being stained red.
Everything moved so slowly, not helped by how my own body refused to cooperate and hurt at the slightest of movements.
Tagashin would pay. I already had a few ideas in mind for giving the Kitsune so comeuppance for this. The only restraining factor would be not wanting to ruin Dawes’ life with an escalating war between me and Tagashin. Oh, and not destroying Voltar’s property.
After finding a fresh change of clothes, I’d gone to the guest room the Montagues had been sent to, settling down on the couch opposite them.
No one seemed willing to start talking first. How could I even begin to explain what they both had witnessed? I opened my mouth, only for my first words to die as Elise paled.
I still had blood all over my teeth, didn’t I? A quick probing with my tongue and I could confirm I still had cow flesh there. Oh Hells, why hadn’t I just taken my time cleaning? I was an idiot.
I reached for a biscuit and quietly began to chew on that instead of trying to talk.
“You’re still hungry?” Gregory asked incredulously.
I swallowed quickly. How do I explain this? Do I mention the Imp? Do I not mention the Imp and try to figure out any explanation for what they’d just witnessed? Surely, I could think of some kind of answer that would work.
“Yes,” I muttered and grabbed another biscuit.
They seemed as unable to speak as I was, although that was understandable. They’d just watched me eat ten cows, raw, lapping at spilled blood and gulping down flesh like a wild animal.
“Well, I suppose fighting and diabolism can make someone work up quite an appetite,” Elise said, a nervous edge under that joke.
There had to be something I could say to help put them at ease, some combination of words to explain what had been witnessed.
“Yes.” Another biscuit. Useless.
Gregory cleared his throat. “Maybe we should talk about why you brought us over? Before we run out of biscuits?”
There were more in the tin. We wouldn’t run out. “Yes.”
I finished my latest one and tried to focus on the task at hand and not anything else.
“It’ll have to be social infiltration,” I said. “Sneaking in is going to be beyond me for quite a while.”
I inclined my head towards my still splinted leg. Honestly, it probably needed to be put into a cast soon, now that I’d delivered on my promise to the Imp.
Gregory frowned. “That’s an issue. We are allowed to bring guests into the outermost layers of the archives, well, everyone but me. But you, or even just an Infernal coming in would definitely not be allowed.”
“There’s a method,” I said. “Not one I would prefer using, and it wouldn’t stand up to a lot of scrutiny. How is magic detection inside the archives?”
“In the layer we’d be allowed to bring you inside?” Elise asked. “Not enforced as long as it isn’t say the Diabolic arts. Is that an issue?”
“No.”
The Imp’s presence was well hidden from those. It would have led to a quick and messy end for me if it wasn’t.
“It’ll be an issue if you try to head further into the archives. Those will detect any form of magic.”
“Let me guess, will any records of what books your father has been looking into be further put into the archives?”
“Unless he’s had it moved since last I knew, yes,” Gregory said, and Elise nodded.
“Okay. I can make what I do temporary, but resuming the disguise on the way out would be more difficult,” I said, thinking about it.
Tagashin would be better suited than I for this, but I doubted any security measures inside would be fooled by Glamour. Using her to set up my alibi would be for the best, unless she could fool them. It's a gamble either way.
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“It’ll take longer than I’d like to set it up,” I said. “Creating a sculpted disguise as a human? Difficult, not pleasant, but I can do it. Dropping it once we’re inside so I don’t trigger any alarms detecting the Biosculpting? Easy enough. Sneaking around there on a broken leg in a cast? Hard, but not impossible. Reverting back to the disguise so I can leave with you? Impossible.”
“You can biosculpt yourself into a human, then back into yourself, but you can’t change back to the human again?”
I nodded to Elise. “There are a few different kinds of sculptures, but permanent ones take longer to put into place and can’t be reverted. Then you have temporary ones that aren’t meant to last forever. The face I’m wearing right now? One of those, and when I decide it should end, my body will revert back to its baseline. The main issue is while that takes place relatively quickly, sculpting away from the baseline takes time, longer if you aren’t as experienced and well…I can do it in about a good day’s worth of effort?”
Gregory frowned. “I don’t see you getting out of there as an entirely different person from how you entered. The guards would notice. And just because magic isn’t permitted doesn’t mean it isn’t checked. They’d noticed additional effects, and concealing magic is banned.”
Elise hesitated, then said “This might be rude, but there are ways of disguise besides magic. Maybe if you cut your horns.”
“No,” I snapped, and her mouth immediately shut. “Listen, it will be a while before we can begin this anyway. We can reassess options closer to then and not leap to anything drastic.”
I want to say another word besides drastic, but I forced myself to remain calm.
“I’m assuming there are security measures deeper inside? You said you broke into these archives in the past, so I’m assuming you have some method of bypassing them?”
The two traded a look and I felt a pang of irritation. Holding things back would do no one any favors if we went through with this.
“We have a way to get you into the second layer,” Gregory said. “But we don’t want to elaborate on it. Elise will send you through blindfolded.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“To be perfectly frank,” Elise said. “Despite my brother standing up for your character in most circumstances, most of this information doesn’t need to be spread. Most of us don’t have much respect for our father, but we don’t disrespect his responsibilities. So information on how to bypass the archive’s security is not something that will be shared openly.”
I disliked how the part of that my mind narrowed in on was ‘most circumstances’ and what Gregory had meant about that. It was foolish for me to expect complete trust, and I chided myself for doing so. And seeing me earlier probably hadn’t helped with either of their impressions of me.
“I probably will need to know some of the security measures,” I said. “Going in there completely blind would be a disaster.”
“Agreed,” Elise said. “But you don’t need to know everything. A way to bypass the physical security separating the archives is one of those things you don’t need to know.”
“It’ll be easy to cross back over once you’ve acquired what you need,” Gregory assured me. “And a lot of the security is on the edge. There are guard patrols, but if you don’t bring attention to yourself, they won’t ask for your pass. It’ll be fairly busy. The first two layers generally are, and the only reason me and Elise couldn’t get that far is Father’s tightening security in relation to us.”
It was not as reassuring as I wanted, but I’d make do. It seemed to rely a lot on no one taking note of me, which seemed one bit of bad luck away from being a disaster.
“If these two layers are the easiest-to-reach parts, I find it hard to believe your father just keeps a list of what books he’s been reading there.”
“Well, not of what he’s read,” Gregory said. “What did he leave the archives with? That’s recorded. So are any requested titles from the restricted stacks. Which should be enough to tell if he is up to something, unless you think differently?”
A private conversation with Lord Montague and no witnesses might be more telling, but that was off the table.
“It’ll have to be. Tell me the details on where those are located.”
Over the next hour we sketched out a plan. It was rough, and the things they left vague made it shakier than I wanted, but it would have to do.
***
After the two of them had left, I went to the table, trying to find some calm via tea once more.
I knew it wouldn’t last as I’d brewed that pot, and sure enough, the walking incarnation of disaster herself showed up, having shed her Voltar disguise.
“Tagashin,” I said, inclining my head. “Here to steal my tea again?”
“But of course!” The Kitsune replied, grabbing my cup and draining what was left of it. “Gods, that tasted terrible! Your tea is as horrible as you are.”
“It’s a work in progress.”
“It definitely tastes like one. How did your conversation with the lordling and lady go?”
“I’m sure you eavesdropped,” I said. “We have the beginnings of a plan, but it’ll take time to flesh out more. Hopefully only a week or so. We wait too long, and I feel like catching the perpetrators will be beyond our grasp.”
“Oh, maybe,” she said, drinking more of the tea despite the taste. “I don’t care too much about it all beyond not having this docked-off time served, to be honest.”
I sighed. Perhaps it was time for a different tact, especially given how much of the tea she’d drank already.
“Tagashin, I must admit some surprise at how well you’ve functioned in this city. It’s always been my understanding that while the presence of iron isn’t lethal to you as many stories claim, being in proximity to this much of it should...weaken the effects of your magic. Cause you some manner of irritation? Something like that?”
“You’d be right,” the Kitsune said, hogging the teapot once again as she poured herself a fresh cup. “It’s part of why fey avoid cities like the plague, but some of us have our little countermeasures. Iron’s anathema, but one can mitigate in a whole variety of ways.”
“Mitigate,” I noted. “Not prevent? So it still has an effect.”
Tagashin rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, be more transparent about your plans. If you want to kill me, better get ready for those holding both of our leashes to kill you for getting rid of a more useful tool.”
“I’ll admit to murderous thoughts after each time you’ve provoked me.”
“Well, just keep it to thoughts, girl. I’m a few centuries older than you, a few centuries more craftier than you, and much better at this than you.”
“Well, if I had to guess,” I said, ignoring her point. “You yourself are mostly immune to it’s effects as long as it stays outside your body. I’d hypothesize that inside is when it would start affecting you more strongly.”
“Why? If you’re thinking of nailing me with an iron piercing, good luck at managing to get me. You end me lethally, and I’ll just do this,” Tagashin said, snapping her fingers.
Nothing happened, and I enjoyed a refreshing sip of tea as the Kitsune stared in disbelieve first at her fingers then at me.
“What did you do to me?” she asked, voice rising with each word.
She probably was pulling on her magic without the dramatics of a finger snap and finding nothing occurring each time.
“To you? Nothing. I did brew my tea with a high concentration of dissolved iron in it. Is that a problem?”
Tagashin snarled, getting up from her seat, only to collapse as her legs came out from underneath her. I enjoyed a sip of the tea as she dragged herself towards me, cursing me out in a language I didn’t understand.
It did taste like utter garbage, but it did its job.
“Don’t worry too much,” I said as I got up, limping just out of reach. “I’ll give you something to purge all those nasty metals from your bloodstream. I’ll admit I didn’t expect it to work this fast. Just establishing some ground rules. You might be craftier, older, better than me at most things.”
I grabbed a bottle from the shelf, looking down at her. “That doesn’t mean I’ll take everything you hand out sitting down. So, for the sake of some sanity in this household, a truce?”
“You can’t kill me,” she said, having calmed down some. She looked at me more curiously than hatefully right now.
“I can’t, but I can make your life very difficult. Much like how you’ve made my life very difficult these last couple of days. So I suppose the question is, do you want that any more than I’ve wanted it?”
“If you’re going to be insane enough to poison me, no,” Tagashin replied.
“Then,” I said, lowering the bottle down. “A truce. Till this is solved?”
The Kitsune looked between me and the bottle, then sighed. “Fine. Then all is forgiven?"
"Definitely not, but it's a start."