I go directly home, keeping my mind busy with trivial things throughout the trip because I can’t think about everything else going on. I need the space to feel it, to acknowledge it at all, and that’s not something I want to do on public transport. I try not to rush too much on the walk from the station to my house, I still feel a little groggy although I’m far past the danger of being sick again, thankfully. When I do get home, I make it a point to keep my slower pace as I lock my door, kick off my shoes, and walk towards the bathroom so I can shower. I manage to keep myself together until the water hits my face, then my tears mingle with the drops cascading down.
How the fuck am I supposed to fight a god? Even if that isn’t the right word to use to describe Erra, there’s no getting around the consensus that he’s extremely powerful. Ancient vampires, the Fae Courts, everyone who knows of Erra is afraid of him. And I still don’t know enough. Sheldon probably does know more than he’s letting on, there’s a connection there…between him and Erra, that he avoided talking about in the Council. Except, chances are he’s going to refuse explaining what that connection is to me out of petty dislike. The dizziness that hits me this time is from my harsh breathing, anger pushing me towards hyperventilating since I do nothing to control it. It only spirals when I think of Erra, and his smug suggestion, simultaneously wounding me with Amelia’s memory as well as the harsh reality of my body. I look down at it now, at the scars on my chest from top surgery, usually providing a boost of confidence, now they couple with my anxiety as I wash between my legs. It shouldn’t matter, I’m still me, a single body part won’t change that, but in that moment, it feels like everything is missing.
I can’t bear it and I cut my shower short, hardly drying myself properly before I’m pulling on baggy sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. Covering myself helps somewhat, but it’s the beer in the fridge that will provide the most aid.
I drink a few back-to-back, until my breathing evens out and my mind isn’t a roaring tempest. I should go to sleep, I could use more rest…but I go instead to the small bookcase in the living room and look through the various spines until I come to the old photo album, one I tried to throw away countless times before, but could never bring myself to do it. I retrieve it and go to the couch, opening it to the first picture, me and Henry at the altar. He looks so handsome in his suit, but I’m a stranger. Long brown hair is done up in a fancy updo, with string of pearls artfully woven into the curls. Makeup emphasizes my eyes and lips; my white gown fits snugly at the bodice then billows out at the skirts.
I remember the giddy feeling I had as we exchanged our vows. I remember thinking I would be too happy to ever have doubts about myself again. I remember being so excited for the future for the first time in my life. Being with Henry was the first means I had to be myself, even if the exterior didn’t match yet. With that thought in mind, I was able to look through more of the photos without more dysphoria, but I could not hold back some of the despair. I see it now, the pain in his eyes hidden behind warm smiles. Photos that I’ve looked at so many times and being oblivious to it all, his background, the harsh environment he grew up in…always seeing the gentle soul that prevailed over everything. I sob-laugh at pictures that capture us being silly, making faces at the camera or each other, and I feel my heart hurt when I see the more romantic photos; him lifting me up, the way he looked at me, the way I looked at him. I miss him. I miss him so much. I miss what we had together. And I hate that the very institution I would otherwise turn to for help in this is the one that seems determined to deny me. The Order of Cerberus isn’t interested in helping Henry. I’m the only one who will.
But I don’t have to be.
Both Castillo and Brianna only attended the Council because of Henry. I knew Henry and Brianna were close, and I suppose in the time Henry lived with Castillo that bond deepened too. They love him in their own way, and I can’t imagine they would turn me away if I asked them for help in finding a way to save him.
I let out a slow breath, feeling a sense of calm come over me. It helps to remember that I’m not alone in this. I have allies I can turn to, and I promise myself that I will reach out to them in the next day or two. With that in mind, I put the album back where it belongs, wash up for bed, and go back to sleep.
I manage to sleep well, and I prepare to go to work feeling energized which is a rare treat. As I head out the door, I look at my wrist and the bangle encircling it. It covers the entirety of the wound, so I can’t tell if it’s healing or not, but I’m relieved to see that my veins no longer look black and have returned to blue. It’s ugly, but it’s working. I slip my house keys into my pocket and head towards Field’s Corner to catch the subway back to headquarters. There's tension through the building that distracts me almost as soon as I step out of the elevator and to the fifth floor. Centurions moving through the hall whisper to one another, looking apprehensive and on edge.
I see Chief Glass round a corner and I hurry to him before he can get swept up in his next task. "Chief, what's going on?" I ask.
"The Inquisition is here early," Glass replies.
Even knowing that they were coming, I feel the same tension infecting everyone else settle across my shoulders. I've never met anyone in the Inquisition, and I kind of wanted to keep it that way. While they aren't as notably bloodthirsty as the Spanish Inquisition of history, they are brutal. It's their job to sniff out dissenters, and to charge those who fail in their duty. When an incident between the Order and a supernatural body cannot be solved locally, the Inquisition steps in. They are coldly objective, separate enough from the Order that there's been no accusation of bias.
If there's anyone who could wring information out about Erra, it would be the Inquisition.
"So, I should wait to attempt an audience with Sheldon then," I decide, hoping I can hide out in my office until the Inquisition leaves. I know the agent is meant to be helping us, but I also know I’d like a recap from someone else rather than meeting them myself.
Glass grimaces in a way that suggests my day is about to get much worse. "Actually, the agent wants to speak with you. Since you’re here, you can report to Sheldon's office and get that over with."
"Fuck."
"Utmost professionalism, Mr. Averline."
Professionalism is not my strong suit, but the plaintive look on his face tells me I better make it my strong suit as soon as possible. I go back to the elevator and hit the button for the top floor, its slow ascent a blessing and a curse. I want to get this over with, but I want to avoid it as long as I can too. There's only one reason the Inquisition would want to speak to me directly, and that must be my meeting with Erra in New York. How they found out about that so quickly is anyone’s guess, but I’m certain it wasn’t too much trouble on their end. Are they going to accuse me of being a security risk that needs to disappear? Will they dismiss me from the Order like they did to Carver? Leaving me with little resources to help Henry? By the time the elevator arrives, I'm convinced that I'm going to executed, fired, and locked up all at once.
I knock on Sheldon's door, and when it opens, I find myself not looking at Sheldon’s familiar features, but instead at a woman I don’t know.
The Inquisition agent doesn't look particularly riveting. I think that's part of their thing, to be unnoticeable. She has shoulder-length dirty blonde hair parted down the middle, blue eyes free of any makeup, a Roman nose, average lips. She wears square-framed glasses, and a cream-colored pants suit that's classy, but not so much so to draw a lot of attention. She doesn't smile in greeting; she just stares at me.
“Centurion Averline,” she says.
“Yes…”
“I am Agent Nora Clement.”
“Nice to meet you,” it’s not, but I figure I can try to make a good impression. I fail, because she doesn’t return the sentiment.
“It has come to our attention that you went to New York and spoke with the Sunset King this past Friday,” Clement continues. “As you were not sanctioned to go there, your actions lead us to doubt your integrity.”
“Well, you see…”
“Furthermore,” she interrupts me. “You have shown a rash disregard for protocol in the past. While prior incidents could be concluded as sloppy work, this recent visit with Erra puts everything you’ve done in question.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “You can’t possibly think I’m…working against the Order.”
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“You have stepped out of bounds enough that your intentions merit inquiry.” She moves to Sheldon’s desk, where a leather bag sits. Opening this, Clement extracts a small vial and holds it up. I squint at the contents inside and frown when I see something moving.
“This is a Dize Bira, a rare insect only found in Kurdistan,” she says. “Useful in gathering information, it burrows into the brain to consume memories, which we can later extract. You may answer my questions truthfully and thus avoid my needing this, or you can be uncooperative and risk leaving this office with no memory of who you are.”
“That’s pretty fucking extreme!” I snap. I know the Inquisition has a reputation, they are efficient and rigid in their methods, but this? I haven’t even had a chance to explain myself and she’s already threatening me with this horrific treatment! I eye the small insect in the vial, my stomach clenching at the idea of it crawling through my brain and eating everything that makes me…me.
“I see no reason to prolong this longer than necessary,” Clement continues. She doesn’t sound like she’s looking forward to it, so at least she’s not giving psychotic Nurse Ratchet vibes, but that doesn’t really make me feel much better.
“So…ask your questions then,” I say warily, wondering what the consequences would be if I sprung forward and knocked the vial out of her hand. Sorry little bug, but it’s you or me.
“Why did you go to New York?”
“To visit family.”
Her eyes narrow. “Let me be more specific…why did you go to Erra?”
I don’t want to tell her about Henry. I’m not sure if anyone in the Order outside our regional headquarters is aware of him, or rather his ties to me. I can’t imagine the Inquisition being sympathetic to my cause, and that my meeting with Erra would only put Henry in more danger.
“We…knew very little about Erra until recently,” I begin. “I wanted to fill the gap of that knowledge. It was just me being impatient again, that’s all.”
Clement’s fingers go to the top of the vial, to the cork that keeps the Dize Bira locked inside. “You lie.”
“Keep that shit away from me!”
"What is the meaning of this?” a voice demands and I’ve never been this happy to see Sheldon as he strides into his office.
“This Centurion’s misconduct regarding his unauthorized visit with the King of Sunset demands further inquiry,” Clement argues.
I open my mouth to try and find some justification as to why we absolutely should not go through a whole investigation, but nothing comes out. I haven’t had a chance to explain myself to Sheldon either, and now that he knows I saw Erra, I must brace for him siding with Clement.
“Centurion Averline has been interrogated and reprimanded on the matter already,” Sheldon says in my place. Did…he just lie for me? “His rash actions, while foolish, ultimately did not cause harm. Our time would be better spent focusing on the matter at hand.”
“Already reprimanded?” Clement repeats coolly.
“Yesterday, when he returned to Boston.”
I’m flabbergasted and I want to ask who this person is and what happened to Sheldon. Clement doesn’t look very convinced, but she doesn’t immediately dismiss Sheldon and that gives me some hope.
“Once this business with Erra is concluded, you will face an inquiry,” she decides.
“All right.”
So, I have until then to make a strong case for myself. Even so…I’ll face whatever I need to afterwards, right now I’m just relieved I’ll still be working on this case. I’m also selfishly relieved that Clement puts the vial back into her bag.
“Agent Clement, it is my understanding that you were sent here to provide us with additional information that may help us in thwarting the threat Erra represents,” Sheldon says.
“Your challenging Erra may have him choose his next target,” Clement ignores Sheldon this time to speak directly to me. She really wants me to have fucked up, apparently. “If he believes the Order is openly instigating him, he may feel pressured to make his next move.”
“Our Sentinels can’t seem to see him,” Sheldon says.
“No, he would have defenses against that by now,” Clement replies. “Focusing on Erra is a sure means of failure.”
“So…what are we supposed to do then?” I demand.
“Focus on his weakness. Focus on the one calling himself Muir.”
“That sleazy bastard…”
Sheldon raises a hand in a bid for me to shut up and let Clement continue. She nods, not nearly as visibly annoyed by my interjections as Sheldon seems to be. “Muir is not his name, his true name has been lost to all but himself, and likely the sunset king,” she explains. “One thing that has not changed, however, is his ties to Erra. They have been united a very long time.”
I’m still trying to tell myself that my flare of jealousy is pointless. Henry isn’t involved, and yet…I still feel it. “A love through the ages,” I scoff.
“Yes,” Clement replies in all seriousness. “Muir lost his crown for Erra. He was once the king of the Seelie Court, if legend is to be believed, when the world was still young. Then he led Erra to the Tuatha De Danann, which led to their genocide. Banishment from the Court wasn’t enough, but Muir was wise enough not to return after that incident. It was the only thing the Court felt like it could do since they could not hold him to account personally. And in time…fewer and fewer knew that he was the Corrupted King.”
“If you knew who he was…why didn’t you detain him before all this happened?” I ask.
“He did not overtly break any laws for centuries,” Clement replies. “Thus, was not worth the resources it would take to bring him in.”
“There’s no point focusing on what might have been. As powerful as he may be, the Order knows the weaknesses of the Fae,” Sheldon adds. “And if Erra loves Muir as much as you say, then it stands to reason he will do whatever he can to ensure Muir’s safety.”
“But what if that’s obliterating us?” I point out. “Say we capture Muir, and tell Erra in the hopes he cooperates, wouldn’t that be putting a giant target on headquarters?”
“He is not a bargaining chip,” Clement replies. “He is a source of information. We capture him, yes, but we do not let it slip to Erra that we have. The Inquisition will get answers from the Fae, and in those answers will be the means to defeat Erra.”
Not familiar enough with either Muir or the Inquisition, I can’t say for sure who I’d bet on. I’m hoping that Clement’s confidence isn’t misplaced though. I almost feel bad for Muir, because I’m certain she’ll pull out the Dize Bira on him too.
“Are we sure Muir has the same weaknesses as the rest of the Fae?” I ask.
“Iron will always affect the Fae,” Clement says. “You make a fair point all the same, Centurion. It would be wise to research immunities and other weaknesses.”
“The Archives would hold lexicons outside our own,” Sheldon replies. “But the state of the market is questionable at best.”
“There are means to traverse it,” Clement replies. She digs in her bag again and pulls out what looks like a bottle of perfume. “This concoction will provide protection to the one who wears it. At least for a time.”
“I could go then, and ask Vasilisa about it,” I say and regret it immediately at the sharp look from Clement. Another part of my upcoming inquiry then.
“Indeed,” Sheldon says stiffly. “Would that be enough to protect two?” he asks Clement, and when she nods, he continues, “Then you shall assign another Centurion to go with you, Mr. Averline. In the meantime, I still must contact the Dearden and O’Ceallaigh Covens about the fate of the Moliere Coven.”
Clement turns her still sharp gaze on Sheldon this time as she hands me the protective spray, and I’m starting to think there’s no winning with the Inquisition. Either that or I’m massively misinterpreting her looks. Sheldon doesn’t seem worried about what he said, so I could just be paranoid after that first impression.
“I suppose I should get going then,” I offer.
“Yes, you’re dismissed,” Sheldon agrees, but there’s a dark look in his gaze that tells me we aren’t finished. Honestly, his decision to hold back his anger at my seeing Erra is so impressive that I can’t say I don’t deserve whatever he has in store for me. His gaze returns to our guest for now. “Agent Clement, you mentioned wanting to tour the offices?”
“Yes,” the Inquisition agent replies, and I hope the rest of the Order is ready for the oppressive air she carries with her.
I leave the office before she can ask me further questions, making a beeline for the elevator and hoping they don’t catch up with me before it gets moving. Fortunately, I make it into the elevator and the doors close, leaving me to release a long breath as it heads down to the fifth floor again. As I walk towards Chiaki’s office, all the conversation I hear surrounds the Inquisition. Most of us have never dealt directly with an agent before, and there’s a level of excitement and nerves that hangs over the entire floor. I’m pretty sure the excitement will be squashed out very quickly.
Chiaki is hard at work as usual, looking somewhat exasperated as I walk into her office to interrupt her. “I need you to come with me to Margadh Sióg.”
“For what?” she asks.
“Sheldon wants to focus our efforts on Muir, the Fae who’s allied with Erra. Apparently, he’s ancient so I want to check the Archives to make sure there’s no surprises…like him not being weak against iron or something.”
“But the market isn’t safe,” she points out.
I hold up the bottle. “Magical Inquisition perfume says it is.”
She doesn’t look convinced, and her sigh says that she’s not thrilled I’m asking her to accompany me. “Let me finish this report and I can meet you at the statue?”
“Sure, just send me a text when you’re on your way.”
Chiaki agrees and I leave her to it. It will give me time to go back to the armory and get equipment. It’s not ideal to bring weapons to the market, but I’ve learned by now that it’s better to be safe than sorry.