Chapter 31: Undeath by Daylight

Alma had secretly palmed something to Dante before leaving, she wasn’t able to explain what it was, but it appeared to be a ring. A thick band of silver, with a number of curious engravings and set with a large blue stone. Not knowing what to do with it, he slipped it on before pondering.

He lay on the floor, on a borrowed blanket. James had begun to snore - even if Dante could sleep, he wouldn’t. Wait, could he sleep? He was undead, yet different. Being a revenant meant his body functioned mostly as normal. He could bleed, he could breathe, and he could defecate. But he had never felt a need to sleep.

Now wasn't the time to ponder such things, he was in dire straits - locked in a room, surrounded by holy men and women. What was worse, he couldn’t slip out the window as they increased guard after the alarm. Thankfully, from what he could gather, their victim had only seen one person attack and couldn’t describe them, owing to the darkness.

Dante tossed and turned, unable to see an escape. Perhaps he could hide himself away in a trunk. James got up wearily, he had done so once already to use the chamber pot so Dante gave it no mind.

‘Alma clearly had a plan, she didn’t seem worried in the least,’ he thought, spinning the ring about his finger nervously. He had gone back and forth on this point a number of times. There was the sound of wood scraping against wood but Dante didn’t have time for it. He turned over again and examined the ring by the new light. He couldn’t understand any of the writing.

“That's a fancy enchanted ring,” James remarked, from next to the open curtain.

“Errr…” was all Dante could make out. He looked out at the rising sun for the first time in his unlife and only then did he realise something was wrong. Before, sunlight had rendered his flesh truely dead and left him with a spiking, tingling pain. Dante sputtered but nothing came out. His gaze was transfixed on the orb of fire. The Church campus was set on a hill and had low walls in the east, affording them an unparalleled view of the sun.

“Come on,” James prodded, “Anyone would think you haven’t seen it before.” He was clearly in higher spirits than last night.

“We used to watch it rise over the orange fields,” Dante said absently, a single tear coming unbidden down his cheek. The memory was there for an instant but fled before Dante thought to catch it.

“You shouldn’t stare into the sun, it's not good for you,” James remarked, seeing the watering eyes.

“Yeah,” Dante replied distantly, beginning a habit of morning ablutions he didn’t know he had.

“Should I hide in here today?” Dante asked James.

“Definitely not,” he replied.

“I know the castalin believed our story last night, but won’t someone notice a stranger wandering about?”

“Hundreds of people come and go from Wiccawich Church. Some stay here just a few days before being sent to any number of towns and villages. Not to mention, you arrived just when we got a new batch of trainees. And you won’t be wandering, there is a strict routine around here. If we really must investigate Iago, we’ll have to do it in our free time. Now come on, or we’ll be late for morning prayer.”

Dante was hesitant at the proposal, this enchanted ring might protect him from sunlight but it surely wouldn’t save him from such a conglomeration of faithful worshipers, he didn’t want to be noticed by the holy Light. He needed to find Alma.

“Do we all pray together?” Dante asked.

“Of course, in the main cathedral,” James replied, scrubbing his face. Dante needed an escape. They left their cell, entering an equally austere wing of the dorms. Furniture, lacking and plain. Other Acolytes moved quickly and quietly through the corridors, toward the exit. One might have expected a cacophony of chatting from such a large number of young folk, but the early hour and stern gazes of the older chaperones precluded it. They were filed out of the living quarters and into a courtyard, where he could see another line of female acolytes coming from the other wing. Dante searched desperately for Alma but couldn’t see her. He looked for a way out but they were flanked by a number of older church members, eager to punish any transgression. He saw the line ahead enter the cathedral and could feel the burning from here. If he entered, there would be no coming out.

Just as he was about to despair, he tripped and smacked his tender nose for a third time. There was a chorus of giggles from the mixed crowd around him and some little concern.

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“Oh no, you're bleeding,” a familiar voice said, with a level of compassion he’d never thought it could possess. Dante felt at his nose and found that it was, in fact, dry.

“No I’m not…” he began. A swift and stealthy kick, disguised as a concerned party stepping closer, soon remedied the matter.

By this time an elderly woman had approached.

“Let me see, let me see,” she said, bustling through the children. Dante looked up at her through watering eyes as she turned his face from left to right.

“Definitely broken, you’ll have to see the nurse,” she declared.

“It’s my fault he fell, I feel so bad, please let me help him,” Alma said, with the perfect imitation of a kind and honest girl.

“They’re both new, I think I should show them where to go,” James butted in.

“And me,” Delphine added quickly.

The elderly woman was about to reject James' assertion but softened at the young woman’s plea.

“Fine then,” she eventually said, “But be quick.” She looked about at the gawkers, “What are you looking at, there’s nothing to see here.” Reluctantly, the crowd returned to its silent, sombre march.

Dante was led blearily through stone corridors and down steps, to his disappointment, they didn’t actually make it to a nurse’s office as his nose was bruised and mangled beyond recognition at this point. He half heard the conversation between the three, as they sat him down in a broom closet. Taking pity on the injured Bard, Alma used Blood Healing on his nose. The effect was immediate, the grotesque mass of flesh returned to pristine condition, before spitting blood from its every pore. Once it was wiped away he again, whole.

“We have an hour,” James said, stubbornly. "Everyone will be in prayer, including the guards, so snooping around an innocent man's chambers should be easy.”

“Everyone remembers the escape routes and excuses?” Alma asked, ignoring Dantes confused expression. Not knowing how to ask, Dante just went along with the others.

They found themselves in a much richer part of the accommodations. Apparently, while the lower ranking members of the church were expected to live humbly in accordance with the tenets of their religion, the more established members were free to indulge in life's luxuries. Even the two acolytes hadn’t been here before - they were just as surprised to see the wine fountain and solid gold chandeliers.

“This should be the room,” Alma announced, standing before an oak door, covered in decorated raw hide and with the name Iago Iscariot emblazoned in gold lettering.

“He’s done a lot for the community, this is just their way of thanking him,” James said defensively upon seeing the decadence. Alma opened the door into a richly appointed receiving chamber. Plush, red velvet chairs with gilded arms and legs lined the room. Paintings of exquisite scenery decorated the walls. The floor was marble with a highly patterned carpet at its centre.

“He has to receive nobles, they expect this sort of thing,” James explained, more to himself as no one else had said a word. Alma, unaffected by the splendour, marched on to the door at the end of the room. It was locked. She looked about to strike it when Dante stopped her. Pulling from his sleeve, a couple of thin stretches of metal, he had the mechanism sprung in a matter of seconds.

“I didn’t know you had the lockpicking Skill,” Alma said, almost proud.

“I don’t,” Dante replied cryptically.

“Thief,” James murmured, pushing past and into the chamber. At a look from Delphine he said no more.

The room they found themselves in was equally well furnished. A livingroom of some sort with plenty of places to meet and discuss. Alma swiped a solid gold duck when only Dante was looking - when it seemed he might protest, she stared him into submission. After a number of doors were opened, the study was discovered. Delphine made sure to shut the doors behind them so that no one might spy them from the hall. James stood back and watched with his arms crossed.

“I promise you won’t find anything amiss here,” he proclaimed, gesturing to the desk.

“We’ll see,” Alma retorted. Delphine dithered between them, not sure what to do.

Throwing open the drawers there was nothing at first, just logistics. They claimed to be the financial records for the support of several orphanages, and grain for the homeless. Alma knew better, it didn’t take long for her to spot discrepancies in the records, as she expected the majority of the coin was being had by people like Iago.

‘This should be enough evidence to shut up those two snot-nose brats, that had been following me,’ she thought. It wasn't, however, what she was here for. The top draw was locked and she called over Dante to open it. Inside she found a weight of coin, a number of invitations, and calling cards the priest had received. She was rifling through for the one she sought, when a sound came from the waiting room.

“I tell you, there’s nothing there, no one would dare enter my chambers without permission,” the voice of Iago floated through.

“But Sir, the Life Sense talisman was triggered,” a gruff man replied.

“And that’s why I left morning prayer to investigate. Do you know the damage that might do to my reputation? You better hope there’s at least a rat or some such.” Then came the sound of a key in the lock, turned first one way then another. “Strange, I could have sworn I locked up before I left.”

Desperately seeking a place to hide, Dante shot towards a nearby fireplace. His Leg caught on something before he could get there. A click followed and something surprising happened.