Dragging Eli Callantes across the floor while vigilantly staring at the corpse, who in turn kept staring at the prisoner, was frankly terrifying. The animated, dry corpse kept staggering after the comatose man until Aran hauled him up on a chair. Mitzi immediately lost interest, walked back to her corner, and stared blankly into space.
Aran wondered if it was because Naia had asked her to keep an eye on the prisoner on the floor, and since the prisoner was now on a chair…
“Mitzi?” Aran asked gingerly, dreading any kind of response.
The dead woman turned her emaciated face towards him with a soft creaking sound in the dead silence.
“If this man tries to flee or attack me, please do your best to stop him?”
Mitzi’s empty, desiccated eyes just kept staring at him.
“Ehm, do you understand me, Mitzi?” Aran ventured.
The middle finger salute followed.
“…Thank you,” he said, unsure how to end a conversation with a dead person and wishing there had been time for these details before the three others left, guided out by Naia who insisted they go have a drink so they could at least be tipsy if they were going to argue.
He leaned in over the bound man, steadying him as he slowly came to. On the side where Aran had kicked him, the white of the eye was blood red. It hurt to look at.
Eli didn’t flinch upon waking. Somehow, he managed to simply look up at Aran in a manner that seemed exhausted and unimpressed in equal measure.
“Now, just so we are clear on the rules, the corpse in the corner will attack you if you try to free yourself, attack me, or flee.” Aran nodded to Mitzi and was content to finally see a reaction when Eli slowly turned his unfocused gaze to look at the dead woman. He was evidently as happy about her presence as Aran was because he visibly suppressed a shudder, his eyes widened, and he clearly struggled to return fully to consciousness.
“This is a healing tincture.” Aran held up the little clay bottle Naia had donated. “I had to kick your head, so I assume you need it.” He uncorked it. It had a vague smell of cheese. He held it to Eli's lips, and he didn’t struggle but gulped it down, grimacing in disgust.
He kept himself remarkably together in comparison to Naia's theatrics, though, and finally asked, “What do you want?”
Aran sat down and leaned back in his chair. “Honestly, I just want to know what’s going on. You somehow sense the people who are… who have the fungus?”
“What will you do to it?” Eli asked, ignoring the question. The bruise was slowly retreating, and his eye was clearing up as the expensive magic began to do its work.
“Please answer the question. I’d hate to have to kick your face again.”
“The girl in the alley said the Enemy was a mushroom. What will you do with it?” Eli demanded.
“When I was rather young, I spent a lot of time torturing people for information. Sometimes to set an example to smaller gangs as well; those got downright grisly. I got really good at it. We can go that route if you prefer that I help you keep to the subject.”
The quartermaster just gave him a blank look. “I’ve been in agony ever since it attacked us at the island. I’m barely keeping my mind together with the screaming and howling slicing my thoughts. I don’t have any hope anyway, I'm fading. I just have to end it or save its victims at the very least. Nothing else left.”
“So back to my original question; you select your victims because you sense the fungus on them, right?” Aran asked, slowly drumming his fingers on the table. People who were told that torture was an option usually didn’t react with tired indifference.
Eli just nodded. “I walk until I feel the pain, then I walk some more until I find the Enemy’s victim. That’s all. I thought it would lead me to the Enemy, but not yet. You know where it is?”
Aran nodded. “Yeah. I know.”
A fire seemed to suddenly spark deep with the quartermaster’s eyes, and he sat up a little straighter. “Go there. Burn it. End it. Please. You will be saving innocent lives.”
“Well, I mean, sure, from you. You’re the man with the knife. As far as I know, you are the one killing people.”
“Gods…” Eli leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “It worms its way into your thoughts. It steals them and wreaks havoc with everything you think you are. And every one of those I killed were screaming in their minds to be freed from the agony and the terror of the invasion of their inner self.” He looked at Aran, his green gaze sharp. “I wish there was some other way to free them, but until you destroy the Enemy, it will keep attacking people.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Eli nodded quietly. “I had a good life. I would not have given out red mercy to the victims if I wasn’t sure of the threat. It attacked me first. I know what it does. I know the agony. Please, go and kill it.”
“Look, I want this resolved. I'm being paid to. But my friend tells me the mushroom didn’t understand that it was hurting people. That it was scared at being stolen from its home. It was trying to create a new colony because it was alone.”
“Your friend who was a screaming mess of the Enemy’s howls? I’m sorry, but he is lost. The Enemy has found a new way to cheat and hide and murder. I'm sorry,” he repeated, sounding genuinely sad. “Your friend is lost.”
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“How can you be sure?” Aran asked, feeling a small seed of doubt in his mind until he remembered that Ailmon had quoted sanitation laws at them only twenty minutes ago. Aran couldn’t imagine a situation where someone would imitate that kind of behaviour, not even a mind-eating mushroom.
“Because all it does is attack. All the people I have killed, all of them were dying and desperate inside their own minds.”
“How many did you kill?”
Eli closed his eyes then looked away. “Nine people so far. I am right. The Enemy is the murderer, while I am merely the killer. I was giving them peace.”
“Nine people? We only found four. Did you somehow kill a prostitute named Ginnifer?” Aran asked conversationally. “Make it look like a suicide?”
The quartermaster looked at him, brows furrowed, then shook his head. “I’m sorry I missed her. If I had gotten to her sooner, I could have ended her quickly and painlessly. Not left her to have to end herself. I'm sorry.”
The conversation was clearly not sane, Aran thought to himself. But obviously, it was also completely linear to Eli. And it was a fact that Ailmon said the fungus could talk in his mind. Shale claimed the same, and Naia was reluctant to go near the shicks. He remembered she had said they wanted something.
They sat staring at each other for a little while.
Aran opened his mouth to speak, but Eli beat him to it. “I have to wonder about the trustworthiness of someone who decorates his house with a human corpse,” Eli said sharply.
A laugh escaped Aran's lips before he could stop it. “I’d tend to agree with you there. I'm just holding it for a friend?”
Again silence fell.
“You know I'm right,” the quartermaster then said, voice calm and toneless. He sighed. “You have to take responsibility.”
“Alright, let’s say I actually do know you are right. Let’s also say that removing the fungus is an option. If that were to happen, to the best of your knowledge, would the attacks stop? How many do you think are infected?”
“I…” He faltered, unsure. “I killed all I found. I don’t know. But you have to take responsibility.”
“Good, then taking the fungus to a location where it cannot reach anyone else will solve the problem, right?”
“Gods damn you! Just go kill it! It has murdered people. At least ten, if we count your prostitute. Kill it!” Eli suddenly barked, furious.
“So I should murder you as well? You killed them too,” Aran responded.
“Yes. It doesn’t matter what happens to me! But I have to see this through. I have to know the Enemy is dead.” He leaned back, suddenly exhausted. “I know I have to face justice. I know. I didn’t expect to wake up and have this conversation, I thought you would just kill me and the only regret I had was not having saved the city from the Enemy. Imagine what it will do if all its disciples are free to roam. One becomes hundreds becomes thousands. In a matter of days, perhaps a week, you won't know if the one you speak to is themselves or the Enemy. If it’s doing it because it’s alone doesn’t matter. It’s murdering people and it has to stop.”
Eli had leaned forward imploringly as he spoke, and Aran saw Mitzi in the corner gently turn her head to follow his movement. It was eerie, and so was the impassioned speech in favour of killing a killer.
“So if I vow to take care of the mushroom and get it far away from the city to a place where it cannot reach anyone, you will turn yourself over to the Freelancers’ Guild?” Aran asked.
Eli looked at him, the exhaustion hiding just under the surface as if the strain of the conversation was ready to break him apart. “It should be killed. Didn’t you listen? You can't bring it anywhere. It will just attack,” he said.
“Yet, as I understand it from speaking with your captain, you were the only one it latched on to in the crew. If it attacks indiscriminately, why were you the only one afflicted?”
Eli's gaze grew blank, and he stared into space, much like Mitzi. After a long pause, he finally blinked. “It’s only some people it can attack, perhaps? I don’t know. I only know the agony I felt. And the agony of its victims.”
In the end, Aran's only choice was to let Ailmon do what he wanted to do or risk their group falling apart. As strange and chaotic and incomprehensible and insane as he thought the others to be, they were also… important. To his work. He would never have gotten this far this quickly, if he was honest with himself. More jobs meant more money. So he would invest in the mad mushroom scheme and try to convince Naia to accept it, any way he could.
“Listen to me. I'm backed into a corner, and I have to let it live. But I swear to you, I will remove the fungus and make sure no sentient being gets near it ever again. While I do that, you will be turned over to the Guild. What they will do with you, I don’t know. But if you want to live, perhaps you can make yourself useful by dredging up any remaining victims after I remove the fungus.”
Eli sneered, suddenly sharp, his eyes lively. “You haven’t done anything but tell me you’re a torturer. Why should I believe a dishonourable man will be true to his word?”
“You know, that’s honestly a good question. I guess you will just have to believe me. I’ve killed a lot of people. I broke the most important friendship I had and fled to the other end of the world instead of dealing with it. I've stolen and killed and tortured and threatened to protect myself and make sure I didn’t go to bed hungry. And I want to give a murderous mushroom the benefit of the doubt against my better judgement because two of my friends swear it deserves it.” Aran shrugged, slightly surprised at himself for putting it in so simple terms. He didn’t actually know that Ailmon and Shale were his friends.
“The girl from the alley didn’t think so,” the quartermaster said quietly. “You should listen to her.”
“The girl from the alley is an enigma that shouldn’t be solved. But she’s the reason I dare believe the others. If it turns out they were wrong and the fungus attacks, she will deal glorious violence to everyone involved so she can tell me she told me so.”
o-0-o
“If Aran says Mitzi is watching him, then Mitzi is watching him.” Naia shrugged and nodded graciously at Aran. “Mitzi’s the best. Besides, how is that guy going to kill a dead person?”
Shale sighed. “Fine.”
“You’re just sour because he doesn’t like the Shick-mother,” Naia stated, sounding almost happy.
“So,” Ailmon interrupted, “did you reach a conclusion?”
“He doesn’t believe I'm telling the truth,” Aran said. “He doesn’t really believe I can remove the fungus or that it has agreed not to kill anyone. He said that I would have killed it already or taken it away if I was truthful.”
“You’re one of three reasons I haven’t!” Naia said. “So we should just go. Get it over with.”
“He also seemed to think the guild would try to use her as a weapon and we should just turn him over and then kill the fungus,” Aran continued.
“Her? You are in on this too? Holy freaking crud-monkeys! I thought you had a functional brain!”
“Naia, we–“
“I agree with the murderer,” Shale said quietly. “We should actually just take her home.”
“That’s not the job,” Ailmon stated calmly. “We will explain it to them and take her home afterwards. We agreed to do the job for them. We were hired to find the murderer. They are both guilty. We will have to rely on Sef being a man who can understand what is going on.”
“Understanding and giving out mercy are two very different things,” Shale commented.
Naia crossed her arms. “Mercy? Then I want that Eli fellow to live. If the mushroom lives, so does he.” She got to her feet.
“Where are you going?” Aran asked.
“We are all going to go talk to him. This is stupid. If he tries anything, we will act on it, but if we are trying to save the mushroom, we are trying to save him too.” She turned to leave, and when the others remained seated, she sighed, exasperated. “I can also just go get him, you know. Come on.”
All three got to their feet and followed her.