“What the fuck do you mean it all burned down?!” Fulcher Goswin shouted, his voice mixing outrage with disbelief. “I was only gone a couple days! How did you incompetent bastards manage to burn down the tavern?!”

“Umm,” the messenger began, “it wasn’t just the The Cudgel’s Kiss that burned, sir, it was three whole blocks, up to the wall. We lost the card rooms at Sawyer House and the Quarryway, three tenements, and the pawnbroker’s on Booksellers’ Alley. We think Parva and Bartleby were passed out upstairs in the Cudgel as well, nobody’s seen ‘em. Haven’t cleaned up enough to find any bones yet.” He flinched and backed up against the door as Fulcher turned away from him, positively apoplectic. Goswin was temporarily unable to form words, so he faced the impassive stone wall of his cell and screamed until his mind returned enough to think and communicate. He turned back around to look at the messenger, who was pale-faced and shaking.

“Who,” his throat was raw now and his voice failed for a moment, “You’re Ivo, right?” The messenger nodded in the affirmative. “Who fucking did this? I know Siger wouldn’t have sent you up here without anything.”

“The fire started in the Cudgel’s cellar, sir, a couple hours after you went out after the necromancer. There were only a couple people who came and went from there last night,” Ivo started before Fulcher cut him off in his impatience.

“Me, Siger, Tancred, Sten... who else? Joly?” he demanded.

“No sir, Joly was at Madame Gismunda’s until after. The only other one was the doc.”

“Doc Kablizzawhack? So what, he decided to burn himself to death instead of waiting for us to get back and cut his throat? There’s no sense in that.”

“I don’t,” Ivo began, stopped, then began again, “ ...Siger sent me because I’m the one that saw it, but I don’t know what it was, not really!” He wrapped his arms around himself and paced back and forth, shaking. “It came out of the basement, I saw it. I saw it, and it was him, but it wasn’t!”

“What do you mean, lad? Describe it for me, what did you see?” Fulcher ordered.

“We didn’t know there was a fire until it was already too late. The floor in the taproom suddenly got hot, then it started to char. I seen a housefire afore sir, it wasn’t so fast as this. I was havin' a pint at the bar, an a few of the boys was drinkin’ and playin’ cards at the big table in the middle of the room. Lamond was one of ‘em, I remember he asked why it was so hot all of a sudden. A couple of the boys complained about it too, then they yelled that the floorboards were turnin’ black! Lamond yelled for everyone to clear out, and then it wasn’t more than a couple seconds before the table fell through the floor! The room filled with smoke, and there was hot embers coming up from the cellar, and I ducked down tryin’ not to get hit with any. There wasn’t so much smoke down low, and I crawled towards the back; the hole in the floor was between me and the front door. I crawled down the hall as fast as I could, past the cellar door, and the smoke was thinner there, so I could see. Then...” Ivo began to breathe heavily, as if he'd run all the way up to the stockade from the slums. His eyes bulged and he put his back up against the cell wall and slid down until he was crouching with his arms wrapped around his legs, and he swayed back and forth. Fulcher watched him rock for a moment, a concerned look on his face.

“Thought I’d seen the last of this when the war ended.” he mumbled to himself. He crouched down next to his terrified subordinate. “Breathe slow, lad. It’s passed, it ain’t here.” Fulcher put his arm around Ivo’s shoulders. “You’re alright. You made it.”

After a few minutes Ivo calmed down enough to continue. “I seen a thousand gnomes, sir. It wasn’t no gnome.”

“What did it look like?” Fulcher asked.

“It burned through the door, sir! A spot in the middle of the door turned black, like the floorboards, and then the whole door caught on fire, and then it pushed its hand through and the door turned to ash around it! It crawled out, and I saw it, and it was him! He wasn’t the same as before though, his clothes were gone, and all his skin was black! Not black like a human, black like coal! He held up his hand an looked at it, like he hadn’t seen it afore, his fingers looked like candlewicks, all black with glowing embers at the tips, and the smoke rising off them! Then he opened his mouth and screamed, and his voice was awful, and his breath was so hot I could feel it down the hall, and it lit the walls on fire! I crawled out as fast as I could, but I saw his face sir, and it was him!”

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

Fulcher listened, then sat quietly for a few moments, lost in thought.

“Right,” he finally said, “First, don’t tell anyone else about the doc’s little party trick. Second, go tell Siger if he isn’t looking for that little bastard, he’d better start. I don’t care what he is, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him. Keep it quiet though, I don’t want outside parties takin’ an interest. If it gets out one guy hurt us this bad and got away, we’ll end up fightin’ those Rookery fucks again, and we got too much other shit to deal with now. Got it?” Ivo nodded. “Good lad, you alright?”

Ivo nodded again, a looking slightly sheepish, but also grateful.

“Best be off, then.” Fulcher said.

He gave Ivo a pat on the shoulder and the messenger got up and knocked on the door. A moment later, the guard arrived and let him out, and he walked down the dank hallway. Fulcher sat in the dark for a while, then snorted. “And it was a great racket too, until some three foot tall incendiary asshole burned down three city blocks, starting with our cellar. Strategos, I shoulda’ stayed in the fuckin’ army.” Then he laughed until tears ran down his cheeks.

A pair of guards in green Ostrogothi uniforms led a manacled gnomish prisoner out of the stockade. His clothing was in tatters, his face was grimy, and his dirty hair stuck out from his head at odd angles. He was marched across the parade ground, where sergeants shouted orders at platoons of harried, sweaty recruits as they ran, sparred, drilled, and exercised. The prisoner was marched into a barracks, where his guards located a bucket, a mop, and some soap. They marched him out to the water pump, where he filled the bucket, and then poked and prodded him along with the mop handle as he struggled to drag the bucket of water to a barracks that had been recently vacated. Troopers smirked as they passed, a few making jokes at the prisoner’s expense. The procession reached its destination and went inside, the struggling prisoner and his unyielding captors.

A short while later, the back door of the building opened, and three uniformed hussars emerged, one of them a gnome, freshly bathed, with a new haircut and a shave. He was flanked by two different troopers from the ones who had led him there, and no one would believe him to have been the miserable prisoner who’d been brought from the stockade to clean the barracks.

They marched across the parade ground in shiny black boots, polished brass buttons gleaming on their green uniforms, with sabers swaying on their hips. They passed the stables and arrived at the armory, where the guards at the door admitted them without any questions. Climbing the stairs to the second floor, they walked down a narrow hallway to a door labeled “Cpt. Lexington”. A knock was answered with a muffled call of “Enter!”

The gnome did so, while his escorts each assumed a position beside the door, then affected the sort of stern looks that would dissuade any casual interruption of the the meeting within.

“Lieutenant Lepzighal, it’s good to see you. I trust your assignment wasn’t too unpleasant?” the captain asked.

“If only all my targets would stay in one place while unarmed, sir! Best assignment I’ve had in ages.” the lieutenant replied.

“What do you have for me?” The captain got right to business.

“He had a meeting. As we anticipated, the outfit sent someone up to bribe their way in and talk to him; we let one through.” Lepzighal answered.

“Did they suspect anything?”

“I don’t think so, they seem to have other problems occupying their minds.” the lieutenant speculated.

“Oh?”

“It seems that they’re at least partially responsible for that fire the other day, and that it’s related to their attack on our personnel.” related Lieutenant Lepzighal.

“Sabotage? Are they working for the Agathocletians?” Captain Lexington looked concerned.

“No, our Imperial friends would have been a bit smarter about reconnaissance, and they would have assumed we were listening in at the stockade. No, we’re dealing with criminals, not spies.” concluded Lepzighal.

“So it’s nothing interesting then, Puglith just annoyed the wrong people and they decided to kill him? I suppose he does have that effect on some people, though if they’re serious about killing him, they’ll have to fight Bellamy for the privilege.” Lexington relaxed a bit.

“Oh, I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s nothing interesting. In fact, I think there’s something going on you’ll find very interesting.” The lieutenant then relayed Ivo’s story about the creature climbing out of the cellar. As Captain Lexington listened, a frown appeared on his brow, and it grew as the story went on. When the lieutenant finished, the captain drummed his fingers on his desk while he digested the new information.

“Lieutenant, would you permit me to ask a couple of questions that may be a bit impolite?”

“Of course, sir!”

“Is this a gnome thing I don’t know about? Does this sound like an old story your parents would tell you as a child, or something to that effect?”

“Well, sir, I don’t have a cousin working as a furnace somewhere, if that’s what you mean. As far as old stories, I’m not a chronicler or historian. I’ve never heard of our ancestors changing into burning monsters, not even before the exile.”

“Do you suppose he’s wrong? Liquor, or some other intoxicant? Maybe his mistook what he saw in the burning building?” the captain asked.

“It’s possible, even likely. He believes what he saw was real though, I don’t doubt that. Would you like him watched?” said Lieutenant Lepzighal.

“Yes, for now. Did you have anything else?” asked Lexington.

“Not at this time, sir.”

“Thank you lieutenant, that will do.” Captain Lexington dismissed him.

“Sir!” Lieutenant Lepzighal saluted, then turned on his heel and marched out.

Captain Lexington waited for the sound of footsteps in the hall to fade before he stood up and put on his sword, cloak, and gauntlets. He strode out the office door, locked it behind him, then went and collected Sergeant Bellamy and a pair of fresh horses. Moments later, they had ridden out the gate and were gone.