When I woke up, it was blinding.

Light scoured my eyes, a searing brightness that felt like hot pokers being pushed into their sockets. Something moved near me, and I tried to scream. All that came out was a weak whine as my throat burned.

I blinked tears out of my eyes, then wrenched them shut as the blinding light refused to stop shining. The inside of my head felt like a chisel being taped further into place with every second.

“Ah, Miss Harrow, you’re awake,” a familiar voice said.

I relaxed just a smidge. The ill-defined moving figure was not an enemy.

“Dr. Dawes,” I rasped out, a painful dryness in my throat forcing me into a coughing fit.

“Don’t speak,” Dr. Dawes said. “I have some tea for you if you could open your mouth?”

Consider the burning running down my throat as my coughing died off. I was more than willing. I opened my mouth a little, and soon, I found a soothing drink with a fruity taste: green tea, one common in my homeland.

After a few minutes and a few cups, I could open my eyes. The oppressive glare that I thought would burn them to nothing was the morning sun outside, shining merrily through the window. It had been morning when we’d left for the Pureblood lair.

We were in the little room I’d set up near my lab in the attic. I was nestled between warm covers and a blanket, a bit of chilly morning air coming in from an open window. It was too bad the comforting warmth of the bedding was ruined by that chisel swinging in my brain and the irritancy in my eyes whenever I neared any light.

I tried to get out of bed, only for Dawes to shake his head. Scowling as pain pulsed through, I decided to at least lift the cover.

I paused as I lifted the covers, the chisel in my head swinging for one massive blow.

Underneath them all, I wore a light green dress, a wrapper I would never be caught on the streets wearing. Frills. So many frills and ruffles. I’d die the moment anyone I knew from the quarter.

“Tagashin,” Dawes said as a way of explanation.

I…my clothing could be addressed at a much later date.

I turned my attention to Dawes, eyes still watering, head still pounding, his face out of focus.

“How long?” I croaked, the pain in my voice faded enough for my words to come out, but still aching with each syllable.

“Three days,” he said, and I tensed. “Don’t worry too much. Outside of our brief excursion and its aftermath, not much else has happened. Well, some things happened, but nothing you can do about right now. Nothing you can do, given your injuries.”

“How bad?” I whispered, the lowered volume a little easier on my throat.

“Multiple injuries of various kinds across your body. Nothing is too badly injured, with one exception in that regard. Tagashin mentioned your head hitting the stone floor of the tunnel, and I’m thinking a serious concussion. She mentioned vomiting. You’re showing light sensitivity. I’m guessing a headache as well?”

“Yes,” I admitted, as the chisel continued its slow work in splitting my brain apart. “How bad do you think?”

“I didn’t witness it myself, and we’ll need to brain a mage with some measure of biosculpting and diagnostician skills to check. A priest would probably do more harm than good. I think you might have suffered a coup-countercoup injury, bruising from the initial blow and then another on the opposite side when your brain hit the inside of your skull. You need to stay in bed, and probably for a few days, although I’ll need you downstairs at least once.”

That….hells damn it, I needed to end this. But, the covers were so comfortable settling in and just sleeping had its appeal as well.

“What happened after the elemental?” I asked, settling for burrowing a little deeper into the covers.

“A few died,” Dawes said somberly. “The shape-changer was busy with the elemental, but some poor souls got caught in their fighting. Malstein, myself, and seven others escaped the chaos. We journeyed the tunnels for a bit before Tagashin found us, pretending to be a helpful spirit. Took a while for Malstein to trust her, but she led us to where you were sleeping. We got out by late evening.”

“And what’s happened since?”

“Shape-changers tried to break Hawkins out. Please don’t move! He’s still secure. They didn’t get very far. Whoever their contact in the Watch is, it isn’t the senior officer Malstein trusted with Hawkins. Another of them is dead.”

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Three dead. One captured. Four dead if the one in the chimney counted. Ten left at this point? They were dropping like flies.

“The bishop?” I asked.

“Malstein is making the arrangements,” Dawes said. “Storming in there and arresting her, especially if she is a shape-changer, would not be a good idea. And no, you will make nothing go faster by getting out of bed!”

I tried to get up from the bed even as Dawes tried to stop me. A second later I was flat on my face against the floor, groaning as my teeth tasted wood.

“I told you not to do that,” Dawes said in exasperation as he grabbed me under my arms, dragging me back to the bed. “You’re too smart to not know what having a concussion means.”

“Wanted to test it myself,” I muttered. “You could be Tagashin.”

“If I was Tagashin, I think I would have been putting something very different in that tea,” Dawes said. “Do what the medical professional says and rest?”

“Depends. If Kalasyp has been brought to where we arranged, rest might not be in my near future,” I said, trying to use my tail to remove his hand only to realize I couldn’t feel my fifth limb.

Panicked, I tried to look back over my shoulder only to end up with my head pounding and hunched over, stomach trying to expel the tea I’d just drank.

“Your tail’s immobilized with a splint,” Dawes said calmly. “Because it felt far too easy to move earlier. I’m not sure what happened to it, but it doesn’t look like anything you can’t fix. Probably a clean break or maybe a fracture, which I hope the morphine is helping with. Should be an easy enough Sculpt once I’m certain you are fully healed.”

That was a relief. Still, other things to worry about.

“Kalaysp is here?” I asked.

“In the area,” Dawes said. “We have him in the basement for now, but we’ll want to move him, of course.”

“Not yet,” I muttered. “Moving would be obvious. They’ll be watching everywhere. You pulled off the switch? I’m gonna be mad if you didn’t. It’s very important you did.”

“They did,” Dawes assured me. “As far as all observers are concerned, two people went in, one came out. Malstein will wonder how it was pulled off, but he’s the only other one who knows.”

I relaxed. “Good. I’m going to sleep then.”

Hopefully, it would still the chisel.

“Ah, sorry,” Dawes said apologetically. “I, unfortunately, need you to head downstairs with me first.”

“I thought I was supposed to stay in bed?” I asked, trying to pull my covers back over myself.

“Ideally yes, but there is a guest who wants to see you,” Dawes said, and immediately my ears perked up. “There’s also more tea.”

A guest? There was a whole range of possibilities, one of which excited me. But this dress, if he saw me in this frilly monstrosity? I didn’t know whether to blush or feel excited at the possibility.

Also, more tea.

“Is that keening noise you’re making a yes or a no?” Dawes asked concernedly.

“Yes,” I said hurriedly.

I nearly crashed into the floor again, but Dawes intercepted me and help me to the stairs and down with careful steps.

“Tagashin mentioned you figured out how to kill the Shape-changers?” Dawes asked as he helped me down the stairs.

“Core of life magic,” I replied. “Should be impossible, but they’ve got a life-generating magic right in their center. Powerful too, which makes it even more impossible to work.”

“Doesn’t seem too impossible,” Dawes said. “They draw on it to generate extra flesh and manipulate the existing flesh?”

“Yes, but for it to be this powerful, they should be constantly changing,” I said. “Assuming concrete form should be impossible for them. They should constantly generate new flesh, and the shrinking should be impossible. Randomized effects. It’s very difficult to control, it’s why regeneration typically relies on having a discreet set shape to pour healing magic into. We need those notes.”

Dr. Dawes shook his head. “Miss Harrow, I doubt those contain that secret. Do you think Her Majesty would have failed to utilize such magic to protect her subjects if it was known?”

Protect wouldn’t be the word I used, but he had a fair point there.

“Fine, but at least it gives us a direction to go with Hawkins,” I said. “He’s probably been maintaining an outer shell for them to pry off while keeping his actual biology deep inside. Like a crab.”

“A crab?” Dawes asked. “Perhaps not the best metaphor. Come on, just another flight of stairs and there’s a full pot of tea.”

“And maybe a Montague?” I asked, my words slightly off as he helped me keep weight off my injured leg.

He was silent for a few seconds, then said, “This is a bad idea.”

“No,” I protested. “This is a great idea if he’s here.”

His lips quirked. “If it was him dragging you down like this might be a good idea. But it’s not him.”

I cocked my head, trying to think despite the pounding pain inside my skull. The guest wasn’t Gregory, which was not my desired outcome, but who was it? And why did Dawes sound reluctant to do this?

Was it a shape-changer? Had they found us already?

“Do they need to burn?” I whispered.

“No,” he snapped, then more slowly. “No, they don’t need to burn. I just think these are terrible circumstances to do this. Just….try to concentrate.”

Difficult with the chisel in my head, but I could give it a shot. We reached the bottom step.

Tagashin was at the table drinking tea in the guise of Voltar, perusing what must be today’s newspaper.

“Ah, Doctor. Thank you. I was about to ask if there was a way to rouse her early. Miss Harrow, please have a seat. We need to talk.”

“Tagashin, why are you Voltar?” I asked. “It’s just us and the doctor, and unless you are that worried about someone peeking through a window at exactly the right time, you can just not steal Voltar’s body.”

Tagashin didn’t reply, simply raising an eyebrow and looking over at Dawes.

“I told you now would not be a good time,” the Doctor said. “She had multiple injuries, including a concussion I’m sure has inflicted coup-countercoup injuries. She should be in bed.”

“Unfortunately, we don’t have that luxury,” Tagashin said. “Not while I try to figure out what happened.”

“You’re the one who put me to sleep in the first place,” I protested. “Besides, your Tagashin! What have you not found out just snooping around looking through everyone’s things and following us around? It’s why I booby-trapped my drawers, you pervert.”

Dr. Dawes paled and then shook his head. “Tagashin isn’t in the house.”

“Huh, but she’s right-” my voice faltered as my mind processed that, as currently injured as it was. Not Tagashin.

“We really must have a talk, Miss Harrow,” the master of the house said.

Voltar. Worl-Empire’s Greatest Detective. Who I’d just called a pervert? And could likely have me thrown out to the Watch for much less.

A feeling seized me, one I had no choice but to act on as I hunched over, a violently sick reaction taking over. I vomited all over the good doctor’s shoes.