CHAPTER 25: GEAS AND GUESTS
“MISSING: Michelle Stine. Aged 51 years and employed as Governess. She was last seen leaving her place of employment, Louon Manor. House Louon and her two children will handsomely reward any information about her disappearance or safe return.” - Caption on a ragged poster in Vindabon’s Ninth District.
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“Well, why don’t we just stab his tongue?” asked Alia.
The group looked at the Warden like she was insane. Shrugging, she added, “It’ll destroy the House Mark and break the Geas, right? So I put my knife through his tongue; Mina stops the bleeding, and we’re good to go.”
Mina let out a sigh. “I’m no expert on Geases, but I doubt that would work.” she glanced at Cole for confirmation.
He nodded. “Destroying the actual mark would at best have no effect on the Geas. At worst, it could trigger a backlash or countermeasure.”
Natalie stepped over then. “What sort of countermeasure?”
Wincing, Cole thought of the time he’d seen a Geas breached. “Nothing pretty.”
Mina was about to ask, but Natalie stopped her. “If he doesn’t want to elaborate, then you really don’t want to know.” Cole’s lovely stories about the Red Light Street still haunted her.
“So what do we do?” asked Alia as she checked Black-tongue’s pockets.
Scratching his cheek, Cole thought about that. “Mina, can you look into the House Mark and see if the Sigil matches anything?” she nodded in confirmation, and Cole looked to Alia. “Can you poke around and see if there has been anything similar to this in the Guard records?”
“On it.” she answered before triumphantly pulling a slip of cloth out of Black-tongue’s pocket. “Aha! What do we have here?”
Getting up, Alia put the slip of fabric on the table. It was a small length of white fabric marked with an arcane sigil and a brown stain. Touching the sigil, Alia’s eyes widened, and she stumbled slightly. Mina cursed and went towards her. Alia let go of the fabric swatch and held out a hand. “I’m okay, just startled me.”
Ignoring her words, Mina got close and checked Alia’s pulse and eyes. “Don’t go touching unknown magics!” she snapped while confirming Cat-eyes was alright.
Brushing Mina off after some fussing, Alia said “It’s alright. The tracking spell is bound to the swatch. When I touched the mark, I felt where the coin was.”
Frowning, Cole asked for elaboration. “Explain?”
Gesturing towards the marked fabric, Alia tried to find the right words. “Y’know how you have a mental map? Like a general idea of places you’ve been and shit? Well, when I held the fabric, I knew where the coin was. Its location was just there in my head. Part of the map.”
Concerned, Cole asked, “Could you tell who had it or where it had been?”
Shaking her head, Cat-eyes reached out for the spell cloth, but Mina stopped her. “You don’t know if there's anything else attached to the spell. Stop touching it until we know more about it!”
Shrugging, Alia thought about her small experience. “I don’t think so. It was just a vague sense of where the Coin is.”
Pausing to look at the swatch, Cole muttered, “We know how he was tracking us.” Putting on a glove, he picked up the fabric and examined it. The brown stain was, as he expected, dried blood. Probably the Spell’s fuel. Sniffing the swatch, Cole ignored the looks he got from his compatriots and tried to learn anything else. To his surprise, he caught something outside the usual smells of life in Vindabon. A spice of some kind, it reminded Cole of mint but had a slight acridness as well.
Frowning, Cole set the swatch down and racked his memory. The smell was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Grunting in mild annoyance, he said, “Natalie and I will go to the Temple and see if we can get any help in breaking the Geas. Barring that, we can try the Ivory Tower. The Token Seer owes us for probably triggering Iron-Teeth’s heart attack.”
Mina and Alia both shivered upon recalling their last visit to that institution. Looking at the table and everything they’d gathered, Mina said, “The Captain’s coming in and out of consciousness. He’s run himself ragged and paying the consequences.” looking around the group, she finished her thought. “We have a duty to the City and its people, and we can’t complete it if we break ourselves trying. So let’s play it smart.”
The group nodded as one, accepting her concern. Glancing down at their prisoner, Alia toed him with her boot. “So while we're busy, what do we do with him?”
Sighing, Cole answered. “Gag him and keep him bound. Put him in a comfortable cell and have someone watch him. It’s probably not the most ethical option, but it should work for now.”
Cat-eyes nodded, grabbed Black-tongue’s collar, and dragged him from the room. Her Werefolk physique let her haul him without issue. A physique Mina was surreptitiously admiring. Natalie let out a snort of amusement at the sight and followed Cole out of the war room.
Leaving the Tower, Natalie absently said, “By the solstice, they will be dating.”
Cole suppressed a chuckle. “When did you become a pessimist? I’m betting by the end of tomorrow.”
Leaning against Cole as she walked, Natalie laughed. “I’ll accept that wager. What will I owe you if I lose?”
Shrugging, Cole said, “A kiss?”
Eyebrows raised, Natalie mused, “How tame. You’d think our journey down the Red Light Street would have inspired you.”
Lips quirked slightly; Cole added, “I never said where.”
Natalie cackled at that and took his hand. “All right, we have a bet. Loser owes the winner a kiss.”
They shook on it and headed towards the Temple. As they walked, Natalie looked up at the clear night sky. “Hey Cole”
“Hmm?” he grunted.
“I had fun today. Thank you.”
Squeezing her hand, Cole said, “I did as well.”
Little was said, but much was meant. They both bore scars, Cole’s might be a bit more visible, but they both had them. The day had been a (relative) break from the bloodshed and madness that had defined their lives. A little respite had done wonders for them both as people and as a couple.
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A weary-looking Morri did not appreciate having his sleep plans delayed by Cole’s request. Still, the Hierophant listened to what had transpired and offered his opinion. “Go speak with Keeper Nyami; she’s the one you want for this sort of thing.”
Rubbing a bit of the exhaustion from his eyes, Morri added, “And I don’t think you need to worry about waking her. Nyami keeps odd hours. She may be a Priestess of the Temple, but at her heart, she’s a scholar. The Ivory Tower actually tried to poach her back when she was an Acolyte.”
Nodding in thanks, Cole asked, “Any word about Dietrich or the city's decisions?”
Morri glanced at the waiting Natalie and sighed. “They are skeptical. The Council and Court are none too pleased with us outmaneuvering them. Your warnings are falling on deaf ears.”
Shifting slightly, trying to undo the knot of worry growing in her, Natalie started to ask, “Is there anything we can-”
Morri stopped her with a raised hand and a tired smile. “It’s not all doom and darkness. I informed the other Temples about your Stigma, and they are supporting your Asylum status. That’s got the Court willing to back off for now.” looking at Cole, he continued, “Also, just because the City isn’t doing anything doesn’t mean nothing is being done. I’ve trained, helped, or fought alongside every Restbringer in the region. I put the word out, and they’ll be looking for this Scarlet Knight. Even if the City isn’t looking for the bastard, the servants of the Tenth Temple are.”
A relieved breath escaped Natalie. She’d not thought highly of Morri after their first meeting. The old Priest’s reaction to her (while probably justified) hadn’t been pleasant. Natalie was quickly reassessing that opinion. Whenever she spoke with Morri, she better understood Cole’s respect for him.
“Thank you for your help,” said Cole. Morri just waved them off and headed towards his room. Looking down the Temple hallway, Cole paused to consider. “We can probably find Nyami at the Library or her laboratory.”
Frowning, Natalie asked, “Laboratory? She has a laboratory?”
Cole guided them down the hallway and towards a staircase. “Yes, she’s the Temples’ Keeper of Mysteries. Magical theory and all that fall under her purview.”
The laboratory in question was underground and slightly secluded. Nestled into the rock below the Temple and hidden behind winding passageways. Natalie had started to think she’d gotten a pretty good mental map of the Temple complex. As they reached the laboratory and its nearby chambers, she was forced to update that map considerably. The Tenth Temple of Vindabon had more in common with a keep than any country parish. Stretching multiple stories above and below ground.
Cole knocked on the laboratory door. When nothing happened, he knocked again. Looking at Natalie, he shrugged and went to touch the door’s handle. It swung open just as he was about to grab it. Revealing Nyami’s laboratory. The stink of chemicals issued out of the open doorway in a veritable cloud. While the flutter of papers foretold the mess of scattered books, notes, and scrolls, they found littering every surface of the chamber. Small and well-lit, the laboratory held multiple tables, shelves, and benches. All surrounding a central ritual circle. Engraved into the room’s floor, the two-meter wide circle was the only unobstructed part of the laboratory.
Kneeling in the center of the circle was Keeper Nyami. Opening a single brown eye, she looked at Cole and Natalie. “The Paladin and the Alukah? What do I owe the pleasure?”
Bowing slightly, Cole laid out his purpose. “Hierophant. I come seeking your aid in breaking a Geas.”
That got Nyami to open both her eyes. Standing up with an audible crack of old joints, the Priestess beamed. “A Geas? Oh, now that sounds like a fun puzzle. Lead on deary!”
Blinking in surprise, Cole nodded and waited as Nyami found her shoes and winter coat. He’d expected Nyami to be more reluctant to leave her studies. But, he wasn’t about to question her eagerness to help.
Leaving the Temple and heading for the Guard Tower, Cole, and Natalie told Nyami all they could about the Geas and its bearer. The old Priestess listened with interest. Making a slight humming noise as she absorbed the situation.
“Hmmmm. A House Mark Geas? I’ve not seen one of those in… forty, no, fifty years? Oh, that was a scandal. House Dresmier had kept their involvement with the Vanni Syndicate secret using a Geas. I wonder if any of that family still lives? Eh, I know the children weren’t punished, so they are probably out there somewhere. Not nobility anymore, that's for certain. Oh, listen to me prattle on! An old woman’s favorite vice.”
Natalie said, “I don’t mind. I’ve long learned you can pick up all sorts of wisdom from our elders that way.”
Nyami chuckled. “Oh, you are a lovely little thing, aren’t you?” Turning to Cole, she whispered almost conspiratorially, “Vampire or not, you could have done a lot worse, Paladin.”
Despite himself, Cole’s lips quirked in a smile at that. Natalie just snorted in amusement. They arrived at the Guard Tower soon after and made their way to the holding cells. Cat-eyes had been going through the Guard records when they arrived and joined them. Mina had apparently left to see if she could find a book on old Heraldry.
Black-tongue was leaning against the cell wall, hands, and legs bound, gag in his mouth. He was awake but did not look well. Upon seeing him, Nyami made a disapproving hum and swatted Cole on the side. “People under Geases are often victims. They deserve more dignity than what you’ve afforded this poor fellow.”
Grimacing, Cole explained his actions. “I feared the Geas had some sort of self-harm trigger to it. Binding him seemed the safest option.”
Nyami looked at Cole with exasperated disapproval. “Do you know how hard it is to magically compel someone to commit suicide? Only the most powerful, complex, or insidious Geases could do that. I seriously doubt a petty House Mark has that sort of potency.”
Cole shrugged. “After everything that has happened, I’d prefer not to take the risk.”
A neutral hum escaped Nyami, and she approached Black-tongue. Cole followed behind her, and she gently chided him. “I’m a Hierophant and a Magi deary. Your worry is appreciated but not needed.”
Staying at the cell entrance, Cole watched as Nyami pulled the gag from Black-tongue. Muttering as she did. “Oh, honestly, Paladins are all alike. Protective to a fault.”
Once the gag was free, Black-tongue snapped his mouth shut, and Nyami sighed in annoyance. Holding one hand out, she made a gesture, and invisible hands pried Black-tongue’s mouth open and pulled his mark into the open. The telekinetic skill involved was impressive, and Natalie idly wondered if Isabelle could teach her anything like it.
Nyami pulled a pair of spectacles from her pocket and put them on. The lenses glowed with silver light and Nyami hummed in interest. “Oh, this won’t be too hard to deal with. Give me an hour, and I can wrap this up for evening meals.”
Alia glanced at Cole, eyebrow raised. Dinner time came and went three hours ago. Ignoring her unspoken question, Cole spoke to the Hierophant. “Thank you, your help it’s greatly appreciated.”
Nyami waved him off and set to work. Setting her hands on either side of Black-tongue’s face and muttering an incantation. Alia left to keep working, and after a few minutes, Natalie dragged Cole away. “You heard the Priestess. She can take care of herself, besides the cell is guarded.” she gestured to the bored-looking watchmen as they passed him.
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Cole grunted in acquiescence and followed her into the war room. They found Cat-eyes pouring over record books. A violently bored expression on her face. Looking up at them she gestured to some of the other books and said “Any help would be appreciated.”
Frowning, Natalie said, “Uhh… Is that… that a good idea?”
Alia blinked in momentary confusion. “Oh right, Vampire. I keep forgetting that.” pausing, she looked at the small stack of record books and said, “Fuck it. You’re literally in bed with the Paladin. Just help me.”
Natalie was sorely tempted to just turn around and leave. Instead, she sat down and pulled one of the books towards her. “You can be a bitch, you know that, Alia?”
Not even looking up from the text, she was flipping through Cat-eyes answered, “Yep, now help me.”
Gesturing at the texts, Alia explained her search. “I’ve got the records of all flesh-peddling cases for the past fifty years. That brown tome by you is a volume of magical crimes. While the one by Cole is a collection of missing people..”
With that, they got to work. Cole flipped through the tome of missing people and became increasingly worried. Vindabon had a disturbingly large number of missing people. Cole tried to tell himself the amount was simply an effect of the city's size and nature. It was a trade and cultural hub for the eastern Holy League. People came and went as their fortunes changed. Some left quickly, escaping debt or pursuing opportunities without telling people. But even that couldn’t explain the sheer number of odd disappearances.
Over the last ten years, the number had steadily increased, with people from all walks of life vanishing without a trace. Looking through the cases, Cole wondered how much of this was the Demon’s fault. Its cult had been luring people into its grip for an unknown length of time. The sacrifice pillar and the black coral formations would explain much of these disappearances, but not all.
Grimacing, Cole rubbed the scar along his left cheek and flipped through the text. Most of the recent cases were among the poor and near-destitute. Barely documented by the city and noticeable only through sheer numbers. Those Cole could pretty confidently place upon the Demon’s shoulders. Others, though, were a bit stranger. A number of servants from different noble families had vanished without a trace. They weren’t employed by the same family but scattered among all the different Aristocratic Houses. To Cole’s eyes, it seemed almost every House of Vindabon had lost one or two servants mysteriously over the past ten years.
Something about that made Cole’s scars prickle. It stunk of hidden foulness and opulent secrets. The Paladin had long learned to recognize those signs from his time among the Vampires. He’d need to investigate this more thoroughly. Even if it wasn’t connected to the Heartstealer murders, it required his attention. Looking up from his text, Cole was about to ask Cat-eyes for more information when the war room’s door opened.
A thoughtful-looking Keeper Nyami stood in it. “There's a problem.”
Setting the book down, Cole got to his feet. “What kind of problem?”
Nyami almost smiled. “The interesting kind.”
Cole, Natalie and Alia followed Nyami back to the cells and found Black-tongue sitting there with a weary expression. Pointing to the prisoner, Nyami explained. “I started dispelling the Geas but ran into a rather messy complication. He doesn’t want it removed.”
“What?” asked Alia, looking at Black-tongue. “He doesn’t want the magical mind slavery gone?”
Nyami nodded absently. “Yes, he resisted my efforts to remove it. I tried to explain it to him, but our guest here resists quite ardently. From what I could see of the spell, he consented to it. This is less of a case of Geas enforced servitude and more of a… contract? It’s hard to explain, but it's certainly interesting.”
Peaking into the cell, Natalie asked, “Can you just break the Geas without his consent? Could it be forcing his mind into thinking he needs to have it. I’ve seen mind magic do things like that before.”
Stroking her chin, Nyami offered, “That is a possibility, but I doubt it. You can not alter a person's mind like that without serious consequences. No, I think we’re dealing with something much more mundane than mind-warping. Our guest here is loyal to whoever put the Geas on him.”
Stepping close and looking into Black-tongue’s eyes, Nyami added, “To answer your other question, I cannot break a Geas without his consent. Imagine a locked door. I can pick the lock and open the door once that’s done. But if someone on the other side of the door tries to keep it shut, then even if it’s unlocked, it can’t be opened. Not without force that is. Force I’m unwilling to use.”
Natalie opened her mouth, about to offer her new skills but thought better of it. Cole was right; the power to manipulate minds was dangerous. Both in the damage, it could do and the temptation it offered the user. Looking at Cole, she asked the question they were all thinking.
“What now?”
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:: The Next Day ::
Dietrich did the impossible. He stared up at the Sun and survived. Its golden light banished even the winter's chill and left a prickly itching sensation wherever it touched. The sensation stirred long-dormant memories of life among a Mercenary company long destroyed. Marching between battles under a hot summer sun, watching the sunset with a woman whose name he’d long forgotten. Dietrich thought he’d made peace with his existence. The day was denied him, but the night was his to rule. That is until Francesco Scapin offered him the blood of the Alukah. Opening up half the world with a few drops.
“How long will you keep staring?” asked a nearby Francesco Scapin.
Dietrich blinked away the sunspots and followed after the Agent of the Ashen Door. Sighing, Francesco whispered, “Well, at least Vindabon is impressive. People will think you’re a country mercenary awed by the city.”
Grunting in confirmation, Dietrich absently adjusted his scale mail. The cheap armor didn’t fit him properly, and the longsword at his belt felt like a flimsy stick. He missed his equipment and loathed needing to leave it with Yara. Trying to refocus on the task at hand, Dietrich walked behind Francesco, observing the city of Vindabon during the day. Dietrich had visited the city before, back when he’d been mortal. In the hundred and fifty years since then, not much had changed. The buildings were, perhaps, on average taller and the streets more crowded, but little else was different.
As they moved through the streets a large man bumped into Dietrich and snapped “Watch it!”
Face twitching with anger, Dietrich reached for Lex, only to realize his sword wasn’t there. An annoyed Fransesco gestured for him to follow. “Honestly, Dietrich. Have some subtlety. We cannot use our abilities without alerting the city.”
Looking back at the rude stranger, Dietrich growled, “I wouldn’t need them for someone like him.”
Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Scapin snapped, “Not the point. Now let's keep moving; we have an appointment to make.”
They trudged through the busy streets of Vindabon, heading towards a box-shaped building of stone and narrow windows. To Dietrich, it looked like the single most uninspired Castle to ever exist. He vaguely remembered passing it while alive but never bothered to investigate the structure.
“This is our destination?” he asked, pointing a finger at the squat cube of stone. “What is it?”
Scapin looked annoyed at the question but decided to answer it. “The Chamber of Coin and Communication. Or the Vault, as the locals call it. It’s a palace of bureaucracy and storage. Where the minutiae of merchants and messengers take place.”
Dietrich frowned. He disliked the flowery way Scapin spoke almost as much as he disliked entering into one of the city's most important buildings. They were limited in how long they could be in the city. The two drops of Alukah's blood should give them six hours of freedom if they didn’t use their powers. If they were trapped in the Vault until the blood wore off they’d be doomed. The city’s defenses would react to their exposed nature and there would be no escape.
Still, Dietrich followed Scapin and entered the Vault. He’d run out of options, and working with the Ashen Agent was his best bet. The doors to the building were huge things of metal and wood, open but guarded. A trio of fully armored soldiers stood at attention. Only letting Scapin pass when he produced a wooden card containing information about this supposed meeting. To Dietrich’s surprise, the Guards did not make him surrender his sword. They apparently thought little of the threat a single blade might pose.
The main gallery of the Vault was a huge hall of cold stone and austere decoration. Counters lined the hall’s walls, with different bits of business dealt with at each. Scapin went to a station marked ‘appointments’ and the bored-looking woman sitting at it. Dietrich hung back while Scapin did his business. He only caught snippets of the conversation, the daylight muffling his senses. Something he’d yet to compensate for.
The woman laughed and gave Scapin directions. He tipped his hat to her, a gaudy thing of green and feathers, and set off. Dietrich caught up with him and asked, “How did you manage to make all this work?”
Scapin looked at him, carved amusement on his face. “I sent a letter and scheduled an appointment. Saying we are representatives of the Matthaus Company here with a message from the Archduke.”
Dietrich’s eyes widened in shock, and he had to force himself not to grab Scapin. “You did what?”
Giving him that same fixed expression, Scapin elaborated. “Communication is key in matters of statecraft, trade, and espionage, even during times of War. The Archduke knows this, and so do the more intelligent leaders of the Holy League. The Matthaus Company is more than a mercantile organization. It’s a front for the Ashen Door. One that lets us sneak and peek into our rival nations.”
Dietrich glanced around, ensuring no one was close enough to hear them. Scapin clicked his tongue. “Oh relax. It’s an open secret to those who matter. We play this game of spies and secrets with the League while keeping clear communication. A message passed through the Company can make it to all the right hands.”
Accepting that, Dietrich followed Scapin up two flights of stairs and down a hallway of polished wood. Doors lined the hallway, leading to offices and other passages. At the very end was an ornate door leading into an office labeled ‘Alexo Argentari: Chief of Trade Relations’
As they reached the office door, Scapin turned to Dietrich. “Stay silent and let me work, Dietrich. I wouldn’t dare to correct your sword-form, so give me the same courtesy.”
Grinding his teeth, careful to not let his mouth open wide, Dietrich nodded. Scapin knocked on the office door, and they were soon bustled inside by a pretty aide. She directed them to a nearby couch and twittered in an annoyingly high-pitched voice, “Master Argentari will be with you shortly. May I get you anything to drink?”
Scapin smiled. “No, thank you, dear. Do you want anything, Zannis?”
It took Dietrich a moment to recognize his assigned pseudonym. “What? Oh, no.”
They sat like that for maybe five minutes. Little to do but look at the art on display in the waiting room. Which Dietrich realized was probably both the paintings on the walls and the aide. Eventually, the door on the far side of the room opened, and a portly man with a beard and tan skin ushered them in.
“Ah, Francesco! It’s so good to see you. What brings you back to Vindabon?” said the man who Dietrich assumed was Alexo Argentari.
Scapin gestured for Dietrich to stand by the door as he went to sit across from Argentari at his desk. “Nothing good, I’m afraid, Alexo. I’m not here as a Brother of Matthaus.”
Argentari’s face lost its jovial humor, and he tented his fingers together on his desk. Eyes flicking to Dietrich, he asked, “Bad enough for you to require a bodyguard, it seems.”
Scapin nodded. “Bad enough that the Court of Noct-Bucaros is reaching out during times of war.”
Reaching into his desk, Argentari pulled out a sparkling medallion. “Then I accept your message on behalf of the Mercury Players.”
Dietrich crossed his arms, keeping his hand conspicuously close to his sword. A religious order sworn to Uncle Trickster, the Players were cunning bastards. Part spy, part priest, all schemer.
Reaching into his coat pocket, Scapin pulled out a sheet of paper and placed it on the desk. It held a portrait of a young woman with long black hair and attractive features. The face of Natalie Striga. “A rogue Vampire has stolen an artifact of incredible power and is most likely hiding in Vindabon.”
Alexo Argentari’s expression gave away nothing, and he shrugged. “That sounds like a problem for you, then.”
A rueful smile escaped Scapin. “I’d not have approached you if the artifact wasn’t this dangerous. Having it outside Vampire control is asking for a disaster.
Argentari raised an eyebrow at that and Scapin continued. “The artifact is called Lilu’s kiss. It’s a piece of an Alukah’s power.”
The tiniest look of shock escaped Argentari, and Scapin pressed the attack. “Lilu’s kiss dramatically enhances a Vampire’s ability to influence and control people. It’s powerful enough to even bypass most magical protections and enthrall even Priests unprepared for it.”
Dietrich tapped his fingers against his side and listened. Trying to figure out what game Scapin was playing.
Brows set in worry, Argentari countered, “If you had such a relic, then the League would have fallen centuries ago. The balance of power would have been utterly upended.”
Scapin tapped on the image of Natalie. “True, if the relic didn’t drive the user utterly insane within a year of first use. Only the most stupid or desperate Vampire would risk that.”
Leaning back in his chair, Scapin added. “It’s one of those little surprises we’ve kept in case things get messy. I’m sure the League has similar toys locked away.”
Considering this, Argentari asked “Assuming I believe you, what must be done?
Scapin smiled, showing his fangs to Argentari. To his credit, the Mercury Player didn’t even blink. “Vampires are immune to Lilu’s kiss, and its effects aren’t as powerful when stretched over large numbers of people. Give us an opportunity, and my colleague and I will capture the rogue Vampire.”
Argentari looked at Dietrich, comprehension on his face. Reaching for his medallion, he held it up. It started to glow slightly, and both Scapin and Dietrich flinched in anticipation. But no burning light came. The Player smiled and set the medallion down. He got all the confirmation he needed.
“You want the city to let two agents of the Archduke kidnap someone from inside its walls? Absconding with an ancient relic in the process.”
Scapin looked Argentari in the eye and said, “We’re willing to let you keep the relic. It’s useless without a Vampire, and it’s proven not to be worth the hassle. But the girl… we need her to make an example of.”
Snorting in bleak amusement, Argentari snapped, “Helping you with an internal discipline matter isn’t much more appealing, Francesco.”
For the first time, Scapin lost his playful air. He leaned forward, eyes meeting Argentari, voice hard and taught. “How do you fight a Vampire, mortal? You use a Priest or a Paladin. What do you do if that’s not an option? Lilu’s kiss will let our rogue Vampire control any living being she gets close enough to touch. Altering their memories, planting ideas in them, or just turning them into her thralls. Not even the Gods can defend against it. How will the city, nay the continent, fair if its holy folk are bound to the whims of insane fledgling Vampire?”
Matching Scapin’s attitude, Argentari snapped, “Why are you so set on this idea of her infiltrating the Temples? Besides, wouldn't her causing chaos benefit you?”
Putting his hand on the sketch of Natalie, Scapin explained. “The Kiss is a shard of an Alukah’s power. If given time, this runaway welp can grow into a true Monster. The idea of an insane pseudo-Alukah glutting itself on your city and then striking at the Duchies has little appeal to the Archduke. He’d rather nip this quickly and quietly.”
Argentari considered that as Scapin continued. “As for why we think the Temples threatened, well, the last time we saw our criminal, she was in the company of a Restbringer. She bound him to her and used his skills to escape. She’s already done it once; why wouldn’t she continue with what’s worked?”
Coldly, Argentari asked, “What about the Lych? He could deal with this. We could call upon him?”
Smiling, fangs fully on display, Scapin used a precious bit of information. “Would he answer that call? Whispers in the dark speak of him growing more erratic..” Argentari’s eyes widened imperceptibly, and Scapin pushed. “Tell me, is it true he spent an entire year motionless? Unresponsive to even his closest student’s pleas?”
Setting his jaw, Argentari growled, “I cannot make such an important decision alone. Will the usual methods of contact work?”
Scapin nodded. “I suggest you don’t take long. The Tenth Temple has probably already fallen, and who knows about the others?”
With that, he got up and went to the door, Dietrich following behind him. Scapin smiled and waved at the aide as they passed. Repeating the same with the receptionist they’d met downstairs. Rakish charm oozed from the man as he headed towards the city gates.
Watching him as he walked, Dietrich frowned. He got the sense he’d just watched a master of a talent he couldn’t even comprehend work. Scapin had walked into one of the greatest cities of the Holy League in broad daylight. Poisoned it against the Alukah and left without a care.
They left the city and passed through the small town that’d grown up outside its eastern wall. Dietrich asked, “Can you explain to me what just happened. I don’t think I caught all of it.”
Scapin gave him his eternally amused look. “The best lies use the truth as an ingredient. I created a believable story designed to spread paranoia and distrust. It will spread and spread like poison in a wound. Even if the truth comes out, it won’t be enough. The Paladin’s word will be suspect, and the Alukah will be considered a threat. Their very existence will be poisoned by fear and rumor.”
Gesturing back at the city walls, he continued. “Even if they don’t allow us to collect her, we’ve sowed distrust and robbed our enemy of allies. The Alukah will be driven into the open. Her protector neutered. Her haven turned hostile. She’ll be easy prey. Your plan wasn’t bad, Dietrich; it just lacked… scale. Which I’m happy to help rectify.”
Looking up at the pink walls of Vindabon, Dietrich felt a flicker of what might have been pity for the girl from Glockmire. But before that flicker could fester into something larger, Dietrich felt the gap in his fangs. He had his orders and his duty. The girl could have surrendered and become the greatest member of the Archduke’s court. She spurned that right. She’d earned the tide of retribution bearing down on her. Or at least that’s what Dietrich told himself.