Sadly, the world isn't so nice that after throwing a curveball it'd show up at the doorstep the next day to explain itself. Answers needed to be sought.
All of us were subject to some level of scrutiny from the guard. Maybe if the warehouse hadn't been set ablaze, the guard might have asked us to come back and talk when it was a little less busy. However fires on rivers which valued traders operate on can't just be ignored as just 'one of those things'. Everybody, even if for now in this early stage of investigation it was a token effort, needed to interviewed.
But the guards were also busy as well. Killian and Linth got the benefit of the doubt as they weren't involved in the fight. When Hannah and consequently I were brought back to the nearest guard station for questioning, Linth decided not to leave us. Jean didn't have much choice but to stick around.
Killian decided he could hear all about the fine details some other day and decided to split away from the group. He had that luxury since he, along with Linth, wasn't involved in the fight before the fire.
Riker was taken to see a medic and the Nurse was abducted by the knight-captain. The former I could understand, the latter left me a little confused.
During the interview, Jean did most of the explaining. About how they heard commotion inside the warehouse. How they believed without intervention someone was going to die. And how absolutely nobody had any clue whatsoever about how the fire started. All the reasonable things you'd need to tell the investigator to get away with putting yourself in harm's way and possibly making the situation worse.
Not that the guard investigator opposite looked like they believed Jean's story on the fire. The guard was reclined back in her chair, a notepad in hand. She skilfully maintained a neutral expression where appropriate, and her sharp eyes showed an intellect keen on catching us out.
This casual interrogation was happening quite public. Nobody had been shuffled into a small featureless room and given the criminal treatment yet. Other citizens and merchants were also waiting in the same hall as us, bringing with them their own grievances. The low mumble of a busy reception formed the backdrop to this casual interrogation.
I had since been wrapped up in Hannah's cloak, cradled on her lap. It would have been an awfully kind gesture if it wasn't sweltering. Combined with the pain in my back and lower body from Shorty's hard kick, the heat was was like salt to a wound. But escape was difficult due to afore mentioned injuries. Hannah planned on keeping me bound up until we got back home.
The guard opposite tapped her pen thoughtfully on the clipboard, a motion she made when pondering how to word the next question. “So the fire that saved the day. Was it started on purpose?”
Hannah would claim yes and that she was quite proud of what she'd done. In fact, she was going through the motions of puffing out her chest with pride just as Jean stabbed a pencil into her leg beneath the table before she could finish opening her mouth.
A very subtle way of telling her to shut up.
Reading between the lines, what the guard was really asking for the fourth time so far, was whether we started the fire on purpose. The appropriate answer to which was not a plea of guilt.
A fire on the banks of a popular river for merchant traffic could quickly cause thousands of coins worth of damage and disruption if the wind was blowing in the right direction. It had to be treated seriously. Especially considering the fire had been started, albeit arguably on accident, by a student without even a basic magic licence. That last bit was something nobody on our side should be interested in admitting.
The guard raised a suspicious eyebrow towards Jean and Hannah, noting their strange expressions with muted curiosity.
“I think it started by accident.” Jean restated, offering no further explanation. “Will we be here for longer? I'm concerned about my students well-being. They've barely had a break since the fight.” It was hard to believe from the composure Jean held, that she had been struggling against a knife to her throat not too long ago.
Linth, even though she hadn't even been involved in the fight, looked the most worn down. She'd barely uttered or spoken a word. Just stared down at her feet, blanking out the world around her.
The guard nodded, noticing Linth's pallid face. “All right, just one more question then.” She scribbled something down on her notepad and flicked to another page. “You said there was a 'scream' that incapacitated everyone in the room. Could you elaborate?”
Hopefully Jean couldn't.
That would be a hard thing to explain. But nobody could look down at the injured cat they probably barely noticed in the fuss and go 'yeah, it was that guy.' But nobody saw anybody else cause the scream. I was reasonably confident but even so the consequences of discovery could be quite high.
Jean's smile thinned at the memory. “I don't remember it well myself. One second, someone's dagger was thrusting down at my neck and then the next... There was just this aweful noise. It felt like it was coming from right next to me. Everyone felt it.”
“And did you see anyone screaming?”
“No, it didn't feel um... I know this is going to sound childish. But it didn't sound human. It was like the wail of a banshee. The kind of thing you hear in fairy tales.”
That was by design.
The guard gave a dry laugh. “Childish? Stranger stories have come out of the Triolo. Do you think it was some kind of magic? A distraction perhaps?”
Jean hesitated to answer. “Maybe. But if that was the care, bearing in mind I'm no expert, the caster either simultaneously cast multiple patents for this sound near each person in the room, or miraculously had a single physical patent prepared ideal for the setup. In both cases, they'd have needed to be in the room.”
And yet, not the most bizarre thing this curse of mine has given me. After all, if that amazed her, I would hate to see her reaction to knowing I wasn't originally a cat.
I could feel Hannah tense beneath me. This wasn't just a small trick I'd hidden.
“During the time in which you were all incapacitated, the fire then started.” The guard recounted from her written timeline. “Do the two events coincide?”
Not intentionally, no. I wanted to cause a disruption, but if that was the objective then Hannah certainly capitalised on my scream on make one bigger than I'd thought to.
Hannah's scrolls always burned to a crisp after use. Laying it on a surface coated with rum was ill-advised. Hannah didn't even need to use one her self-destructive scrolls. A simple practice scroll with no effect could burn up just as well.
Jean made an effort to show she was giving it some thought. Pausing, recounting the events in her head. “Possibly? I'll read into it in my spare time and let the guard know.”
What Jean and the Nurse saw of the chain of events, I wasn't sure. Hannah, to my recollection, was first to recover from the scream. But I didn't doubt from the way Jean was acting that she had an idea of who was behind the fire.
The guard straightened herself up and nodded. “Well, that concludes it for now. There are some odd peculiarities in this case but we'll let you know if we need you again. I have all your names. You are free to go for now.”
Jean immediately stood up. “Come on you two. Time to get you back home before you get into more trouble.”
Hannah and Linth followed Jean out the station and back out into the broad daylight. It felt oddly refreshing on my fur.
I was eager to get back home. Very eager.
By now news had probably reached the locals of the fire. The first thing they'd have noticed was an ominous plume of smoke emerging from infront of the cathedral. Since then, the festival didn't have that same cheery air as far less locals were out on the street.
A small crowd was gathering outside the guard station. Two guards stationed near the gate oversaw and engaged with the locals. In this early stage, how the guard acted publicly could have a crucial influence on how the mood developed, and so the guards acted cooperatively, answering concerned questions as best as they could.
Tens of unanswered questions niggled in my own mind. But life these days seemed to raise these questions sooner than provide the answers.
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Jean stopped in the middle of the street, looking Hannah and Linth up and down. Jean, kept her dress code refined. But her collar was scuffed, and the her clothes had been dirtied after being thrown down on the warehouse floor.
Linth looked like she'd run a mental marathon two days in a row. Constantly, she averted her eyes and wilfully tried her hardest not to notice the people passing us by.
Hannah had a strange glow to her. Whether it was the fact she held her head a little higher or the unsociable stoic expression was a little softer, I wasn't sure.
“Where should I take you to, Linth? Home?”
“She can stay at my place for a while if she needs a break.” Hannah offered without a shred of self-awareness.
Jean shook her head rightfully. “I think it would be better for her to return home.”
Hannah looked the quiet Linth up and down and then nodded. “Yeah. Fair enough.” She approached Linth and flicked her nose, getting her attention. “Sorry Linth, it's my fault you got involved in this.”
It was a hard apology to swallow. Unlike me who was quite used to being thrown around by Hannah, Linth rarely had her nose anywhere but lodged between the pages of a book. “No, it's okay. I mean, you might have saved Riker's life, right? I just wish I'd noticed them earlier. All you did was look out the window and spot them, even though they were hiding so well in the warehouse.”
Hannah blanked at Linth's reply before suddenly laughing. “Actually, I got really lucky. Well, not really. I'll never be able to wash that image out of my mind.”
“What, um, what did you see?” Linth asked as Hannah went from grinning to wincing.
“I saw one of them, well, y'know, around the side of the building.” What a horrible sight, Hannah grimaced. “I mean, when you have to go you have to go but still, doing it out in the open? I guess they didn't want to stink out their hiding spot.”
To think that was how they got caught.
Perhaps that was how Killian found them as well. I could picture the boy crawling out the water intake beneath the pier and getting an eyeful of something very unpleasant above.
Jean just shook her head. “You really are nothing but trouble.” She rubbed the area above her brows as though trying massage a headache. “I still want to talk to you, Hannah, about what happened. But I'll let you get some rest.”
“Rest? What you talking about? After what happened, I feel powerful.”
Jean gave a slight smile. “Show me your hand.”
“This one?” Hannah extended out her left.
“You're shaking.” Jean continued, her smile still gentle. “Go home and get some rest. I'll walk Linth home.”
Her hand sure was shaking despite her smile. Hannah pulled her hand back slowly, looking down at it like she'd just been hit by an unexpected betrayal. “Uh right. Yeah. I guess I should go home then.”
“Yes. And make sure to look after you cat.” Jean added.
Sagely advice there. Make sure to feed me.
It felt very much like the still after a storm on our way back. Although the commotion of festival was as vibrant as this morning, a small lull had developed in the afternoon.
It made walking back a quieter endeavour.
We arrive back at the house just in time to catch the Landlady leaving.
“Oh Hannah, how are you dear?” She greeted us with a pleasant smile, noting with some small interest me wrapped up in a cloak. “Riding in luxury, I see.”
Hannah smiled in polite greeting. “Kinda. He's had a rough day.”
“I hope you accomplished what you set out to do.” Granny glanced down at me for a moment as she spoke.
In all the commotion, I'd forgotten the intended purpose of our journey was to apologise to Linth. Poor girl must be going mentally through a meat grinder. In the end, I had managed to apologise.
“Are you going to visit the festival?” Hannah asked, noticing the empty basket hanging beneath Granny's arm.
“Doing some shopping. Should I get you anything dear?”
Ham please. But of course she'd never say that.
“Ham please.”
Whaaaaaaa.
“Oh, and a letter came for you this morning whilst you were out. I've left it on the landing for you as well as some treats.” She winked as she passed us.
“Take care.”
“And you.”
We entered and retrieved the letter on the landing on our way up to our stay. The letter, was housed in a plain envelope on which in elegant writing bore Hannah's full name. It even included her middle name, something only those close to her knew.
But the familiar handwriting alone was enough to identify the sender.
Next to the letter, a few small snacks had been few. Three cupcakes, freshly baked.
“You can put me down.” She could hardly carry all of that.
“It's fine, I'll balance it all.”
“Yeah, on my head. I can walk anyway. You coddling me like this feels weird.”
Hannah refused. Instead, she put everything away in her satchel. It was a short journey, so hopefully the cupcakes wouldn't be ruined. “'I can walk' he says. You've barely stirred in this cloak. You're going to tell me what happened when we are inside.”
I was getting a vague feeling of deja vu. “If I tell you how I got hurt, are you going to run off and try and break their legs?”
“I might.”
“What if they were a child?”
“I would settle with traumatising them.”
As happy as I would be to see Shorty in grievous amounts of pain, it was satisfying enough to see Jean kick him hard between the legs. “It's a bit late for that anyway. They are in guard custody now.”
We made our way back into our stay. She set me down in the cloak on the dining table. My body screamed at me for even attempting to free myself from this cloaks's heavy woollen embrace.
“Hannah, you're pacing.” Back and forth she went. It was quite unnerving.
“I'm just thinking.” She replied, stopped, pulled out a chair, and sat down. “Now tell me what happened.”
I told her the story that had happened in the brief time we were apart. As plainly, as unadorned as possible. “I tried to stop a clansmen from assaulting Riker. They kicked me. The end.” I summarised it up for her.
“Well, I guess I did tell you to protect the hostage. Still I didn't expect you to run at him hissing and clawing. Was it the one who left with a face looking like he'd been mauled by a rake?”
“Yeah, that'd be him. Just the thought of him is making my blood boil.” His expression of anticipated glee when he was about to assault Riker made my stomach curl. The capacity to derive pleasure from such malice had all the hallmarks of evil. Hypocritical as it is, me being quite spiteful, taking that amount of pleasure in others pain is just repugnant.
“Wow, so he pissed you off that much, huh?” One corner of Hannah's lips raised into an amused half smile. “That probably explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“Well, normally you don't do much. In a crisis, I always thought you'd be more likely to run and hide rather than fight. You're quite skittish and cautious, like you've got a twelve point plan you apply to any dangerous situation you've got to exhaust before you start fighting back.” Hannah, my caretaker of twelve years, had likely made a whole slew of observations about me I was unaware of. “But, not only did you start a fight on someone else's behalf, you even showed one of your tricks you've been hiding even from me.”
I assumed when I did it, there'd be some reprisal. Some sort of investigation that raised the heat a little. But that was, in reflection me being paranoid. Several assumption had to be made before I became the likely suspect behind the scream.
But Hannah knew better because Hannah knew me.
“It's not really a trick per say. When I talk, it's not like I'm using this cat's mouth of mine. It's an illusion.”
“But what I didn't know was that you have a lot more control of that illusion than you like to show.” Hannah wagged her finger at me, tutting like I was some child. She was taking this very well. “Between your distraction and my magic, we saved the day.”
Uh what? Your magic? As in the accident?
“What did I tell you, Adam?” She puffed her chest out with pride. “Never underestimate a witch and her black cat.”
No no no, there was something wrong here. “Okay, firstly, don't call me a cat. I refuse to let you coin that catchphrase. Secondly, your magic? Your scroll burnt up because the patent was flawed.”
“The sparks of which ignited the alcohol.”
“You can't claim you failed on purpose.”
“Failure is measured by consequence. And I think you'll find, I saved four people's lives today, including your own.”
“Burnt down a warehouse and traumatised your best and perhaps only friend.” I added.
“The irony of you calling me out on that is not missed.” She huffed. “But, let me put it another way. Would the academy kick out the student who saved the day?”
That was hard to say they would. Possibly, just possibly, this was good press for the academy. “I think we'll have to wait to see what Jean has to say.”
Although getting the credit would involve owning up to causing the accident and I was quite certain that wouldn't go well.
At the very least, she might be Riker's good books now.
She was in a very bright mood considering what had happened. Her smile fell for a moment. “I bet it will feel better than this.” Her eyes veered off as though pulled to the sight of a far off future.
“What will feel better?” Curiosity pulled me in.
“The day I prove I can use magic as good as anyone else.” Her words were loaded with longing. “I'll admit it was half an accident, Adam. But when it happened, when my scroll lit that fire, I felt like I could just pretend for a moment I had cast a real spell. Not one that'd burn my arms, or one so weak all it could do is push an egg onto its side. A genuine, real spell.”
The mood of the conversation changed. The source of the brightness to her discovered. She'd tasted it. She'd sipped on the wine of her dreams.
Even though I felt her pursuing this path was a waste of effort. So much more could be gained in proportion to the work she put in if she devoted herself to some other life goal.
I still couldn't stop myself from feeling a little proud of her. I resolved then and there, that even if I forgot her name, I would not forget the happy face she was making as she sat at the table, staring towards the open shutters.
“Well, even if it was half an accident, your spell did save my life. So uh... thanks.”
“And thank you for your distraction in the fight. I couldn't have done it without you.”
The area around my chest tightened.
Following that, there was an awkward silence that came with two people unfamiliar with thanking and complimenting eachother. In an argument, at least there was a pattern. A bitter back and forth. Should we just sit there and carry on complimenting eachother?
“The letter.” I blurt out.
“Hmm?”
“I mean, what if there's something important in the letter?”
“Oh right.” She reached into her satchel and pulled out the letter. At the sight of the handwriting on the envelope, her grip tightened. “Maybe I'll read it later.”
“Are you sure? It's from her so it could be important.”
“One thing at a time, Adam.” She set aside the unopened letter. “I'm living my own life now. She can wait. Besides, I promised the next time I had anything to do with her again, I'd prove her wrong.”
After her parents fled Amarinth, they left her in the care of her maternal grandparents.
The most defining character in her life during her childhood had to be her grandmother. She was easily the most powerful woman in all of Amarinth. If not in sheer strength, then in character. Without a doubt a witch, and an incredibly patriotic and proud one at that.
The Order of Ice, even if they knew about her, wouldn't have been able to lay a finger on her. Otherwise the entire province of Amarinth would be up in arms the very next day.
Although austere at times, she raised Hannah to stand up for herself and walk her path heedless of what others think of her. But their relationship hit a great hurdle when the Hannah's condition came to light.
After all, to her grandmother, this couldn't have been anything but a sign from the world that her granddaughter was destined for other things than magic.
And to Hannah, who could only see her destiny in magic, living with her grandmother became a very unpleasant arrangement.