Ordinary hounds were trained to look for animals and, those creatures, for auras. I could try it—but I have to be careful and not get caught. That was the first upside: if Lavinia was in the city, I would find her.
The second upside was that Innis and I were off the hook. Lintor looked at me quite amicably.
“Where are you going, Alex?”
“Home.”
“You’d better come with me. In the morning, my boys will escort you.”
“Home, I hope?”
“Where else?”
“To a temple to be burned,” I suggested, joking. Lintor waved his hand.
“There’s the Church and then there’s us. You’re going to leave soon anyway, aren’t you?”
“Very soon.”
“You’ve helped, so I won’t report you. You have my word on it.”
“Thank you.”
“I will keep an eye on your cousin after you leave, too.”
Yeah, during the interrogation, Miron had told everything he knew about us: that I was a Tevarrian baron, here with my cousin Innis Andio, who turned out to be Countess Innis Andago. Miron had been at court when Sidon, mad with worry for his precious child, had barged inside.
Or is he worried about his future? If Innis disappeared, the line of Andago would be broken. The king would have no reason to give the county to Sidon; he had his own men. What would happen to the former count? He would be kicked out onto the street with all of his belongings and that was something he clearly wasn’t keen on.
Therefore... Find the girl! Here’s her father, her fiancé...please!
Miron had learned about all of this by accident, but decided to use the opportunity. Before that, he had been planning on making Innis his mistress after making a deal with me—a suicidal plan. But after discovering the truth, he resolved to marry her as soon as possible and by any means available. Countesses weren’t a dime a dozen.
Innis refused to become his wife, prompting him to try and rape her, but then, she came. He described the vampire and his own death.
Why didn’t she kill Innis?
He had no idea; the vampire hadn’t been exactly forthcoming with information. And thus, I was cleared. Lintor was going to focus on finding the vampire and looked at me with some interest.
“Can you, perchance...”
“If I could, I would. But I’m a necromancer, not a bloodhound.”
“But aren’t unholy creatures your domain?”
“And slums are yours, but can you find a specific rat with a torn ear?”
“That’s how hard it is?”
“See, to find her, I would need something, like a clue. A footprint, aura...”
“What about the corpse?”
“No. If I had her blood, her clothes at least, or something else... Did she kill the king as well?”
“Who else could have done it if not for some evil spawn?”
“I don’t know. I just want to make my cousin is safe.”
“I can assure you, she will be. I’ll take care of it myself if I have to. So, do you have any idea where that vampire wretch could have come from?”
“From anywhere. Maybe she was summoned, or she just came here, or she’s been living here forever...”
“We’ll look for her.”
“By the way, she might not be a real blonde.”
“Ugh! Of course, not! She’s a woman... Damned masquerade.”
“Getting a wig is easy enough, you must know that. So the real factors are height, eyes, and, probably, an allergy to silver.”
“Do vampires have claws?”
“Not all of them, but some.”
“What do they look like?”
I smirked and drew my claw on a sheet of paper. Why not? Lintor examined it closely.
“It does look similar...”
“To what?”
“The king was killed by claws, his throat torn to shreds.”
“Did they drink his blood?”
“Uh...hard to tell now.”
“Talk to the servants. They might have noticed something. A vampire would have found it difficult to abstain...”
“Alex, come serve me, as a consultant.”
“Sorry, but my home isn’t here. I need to get going.”
Lintor understood that and sighed, then offered to pour me another glass. The next morning I came back to Auntie Madie’s house pretty hammered and escorted by the city guard.
In the end, Lintor had also promised to have a word with the chancellor. Of course, nobody was going to look for Innis straight away, but he assured me he would report her situation, as well as tell about my suspicions concerning Riphar—I made no secret of that.
As a necromancer, I have sensed a powerful demon right in the Morales estate.
Could you handle it?
Lintor, you think too much of my skills! I would be torn apart. The creature inside can wreak havoc on half a city. It would snack on some weakling necromancer and not even notice it! And that’s why I took my cousin away. I knew I couldn’t protect her myself, but I wasn’t going to give my family members to demons!
Lintor scratched his head and swore not to tell the Church about me. He would never reveal his sources. I was left happy and content—but not for long.
***
Innis opened the door and rushed to embrace me.
“Alex! You finally came! I’m so glad!”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Auntie Madie...”
“Is she all right?”
“She is, but her daughter...”
I calmed down in an instant. I didn’t give a toss about her daughter. Alas, Innis didn’t get it, which is why I was being pulled into the drawing room.
“Listen, Alex!”
Yeah, I’m listening, what else can I do? But my grumbling was mostly a reflex. Innis was a wonderful girl, after all.
A woman, skinny as a rake, was bawling on the couch, her face buried in Auntie Madie’s skirts. Maybe once upon a time, she used to be a pretty girl, but now, her face was tear-stained and swollen, her hair was neatly tucked under a bonnet that mostly resembled a bucket made of rags, and her figure was hidden under a dress fit for a scarecrow, and only a scarecrow: grey-brown and formless. How could Auntie Madie allow that? She seemed to be a normal human and behaved as such.
Auntie’s sad eyes cut into my very heart. I felt sorry for her.
“What’s going on?”
“Mother! Shut up! I forbid you!”
The girl’s hysterical shriek cut just as much, but into my nerves. Unceremoniously, I pulled her up from the couch by the collar and gave her a good slap, the sound of which reverberated across the room.
“Nobody was asking you.”
The girl sucked in air, but my words stopped her dead in her tracks.
“Keep silent, wretch!”
Innis gripped Auntie Madie’s hand tightly, but the latter didn’t seem too keen on coming to help her offspring. Has she gotten enough of her crap too?
“Nobody asked you. Sit down and be quiet.”
I pushed the girl onto the couch and sat next to Auntie Madie.
“Are you all right?”
“I am, but Tyrimma...”
“Your daughter clearly takes after her father,” I summed it up.
Auntie Madie looked at me with pleading eyes.
“Alex...”
“Fine, I get it. This lady is a parasi— a paragon of beauty, humility, and smarts, and woe to the one who dares to question it. So, what happened?”
I got an answer straight away. A real shit bag—I really couldn’t find a better word—of a thrall barged into the house. And don’t tell me I’m biased! You should have seen the brute yourself! He was two heads taller than me, his face free from any semblance of intelligence, and he had a beer belly. He was wearing a stained robe reeking of a barnyard.
“Rimmie! Come home!”
Tyrimma tried to blather something, but I was getting angry. Until then, I had be
en having fun, well, mostly, but now...
I stepped forward.
“What the hell? Who allowed a hog inside the house? Get out of here, you pig-face!”
The thrall of the Bright Saint was shocked so much that for a moment, he froze. After regaining his senses, he charged at me with a roar worthy of the aforementioned animal, only to be shot down, hard.
I tripped him, tackled him, and sent him flying into the nearest wall. He hit it with such force that a statuette fell off a drawer. Thankfully, his head was solid bone so it wouldn’t get hurt; if he had half a brain, he would have surely earned a concussion.
“Russie! Honey!”
That was “honey”?
And why was that foolish girl wailing? Ah, that’s why. Innis intercepted her as she tried to come at me, catching her long braid and pulling it with all the strength she could muster. It probably hurt like hell. The brute, meanwhile, was sprawled out next to the wall, shaking his head. What was I to do with him, then? I bent down and twisted his arm.
I wasn’t going to drag him out; let him go by his own accord.
In five minutes, Auntie Madie’s neighbors were entertained with an impressive show. A thrall of the Bright Saint shot out of Auntie’s house, raced around fifteen feet to the nearest fence, rammed his head there, and collapsed in a puddle. I dusted off my clothes and my boots, after using them to bid him farewell, and returned inside.
The drawing room was a funny sight. Auntie Madie was attempting to calm down her daughter, while the latter kept trying to get at Innis, who was the only one not doing anything, other than glancing at a flower vase from time to time. Hmm, the water inside was pretty cold. A good idea!
I grabbed Tyrimma by the collar and dragged her outside. There, in the backyard, was a washtub full of cold water. It heated over the day and was used to wash dishes. And so far, it had had no time to heat up.
Ten minutes later, the same group gathered in the drawing room.
Tyrimma was wrapped in a blanket; I kept an eye on Auntie Madie; and Innie was brewing tranquilizing herbs.
“Auntie?”
“You can see it yourself, Alex. My daughter, my son-in-law, their family; I can’t seem to grasp the depth of their enlightenment.”
“Could you tell me more?”
She could, and she did. Auntie Madie’s husband wasn’t exactly rich, but he wasn’t poor either. They had money, their own business, now run by their son, and would probably earn a good fortune eventually, if not for their small weakness. Both Auntie and her husband loved collecting porcelain wares of the Irrali dynasty...
I gave her a respectful nod. Too bad the secret was lost—just one look at those almost transparent cups and statuettes, all but ready to take off from their shelves and fly away... They were magnificent, exceptionally rare, and extremely expensive. But that was beside the point.
“When Rimmie got into...all that, I gave it away for safekeeping.”
“Mother!”
I didn’t even open my mouth, I simply glared at her. The girl shut up. When she held her tongue, she even seemed a little bit pretty: long hair, blue eyes... What does she see in that hog? Fine, let’s hear the story.
The story, as it turned out, was simple. Her brother was doing business in another city; her mother had her hands full taking care of the house; and the daughter...
As you know, every decent girl should visit the temple. That’s what Tyrimma did, and that’s where she was introduced to that specimen. It was all gentle nudging, as priests are wont to do. Dear child of mine, just look what a man is pining after you...
That which made others drunk made him bold. An outstanding person! He had drunk wine until he was thirty and then got tired of rolling around in a ditch and decided to serve the Saint. Why not, really? The priesthood kept him fed and happy, and as for mumbling prayers...it was a learned skill. He would come around.
He had no home, as he had no money for that, no parents, as they had kicked him out after realizing they had a swine for a son, no wife, as no girl had been stupid enough before Tyrimma, and no children, as he had frozen off all the necessary bits while sleeping around in cold puddles. What a catch!
Tyrimma, however, got a whole different story.
Child, you must understand that a man of such fine and sensitive nature might not have the strength to hold fast if faced with such an injustice. He had nowhere to turn to, nobody to help, throw him a lifeline, comfort him, give him good advice...
They never deigned to inform her that Russie—also known as Mirustan—used to drink like a fish and crawled home hammered, beating his parents up.
He didn’t take after them, after all, and weighed more than the two of them put together. They also had six other children, who needed food and education, and didn’t need to watch that dirty business. Auntie Madie knew that for a fact. She had paid them a visit back when Tiri fell for that...creature.
After realizing that they couldn’t transform him into a person, and no magic could help—it could only work if a man wanted to change his life—his parents kicked him out. They did it properly, renouncing their bond to the mayor and calling the guards several times, until the brute finally got the idea. He might have needed even more persuasion, but the commander of the guard had shown some understanding for the parents’ situation. They were honest workers, after all, but there was a black sheep in every fold. Three shafts, several logs, and two wide belts had fallen prey to Mirustan’s education, but at last, he forgot the road to his parents’ home. Instead, he found the path into the Church and it was Auntie Madie’s turn to suffer.
Her daughter was happy, however. We have a good family, you just don’t get it!
Of course, how could her parents see that! It’s not like their hearts ached for their children and they weren’t mad with worry. Oh, if she were my daughter, I would have given her a good lashing.
“Then why did she come?”
The wife is to fear her husband, the good book said. And what would a person fear?
Russie honestly feared a good dressing-down. Thinking that everybody had the same fears, he never missed an opportunity to educate his wife in the same way. The last time, he got a little bit carried away. He didn’t hit her in the face, of course. All of her bruises were on her body.
Could you show them?
It is improper for a girl to—
Under my gaze that was full of implications, Tyrimma showed us the blue-black patterns on her back.
I grit my teeth. Bastard.
So what was she waiting for? She has to dump him, pronto!
What? She doesn’t want to? I didn’t get it. He had no chance, the idiot! Poor Russie would perish without Tyrimma, for sure.
Innis sighed deeply. She kept quiet, like a pipe ready to burst, and at last, she had had enough.
“Of course he will perish! How could he not? What do you think you are, you stupid girl? The Bright Saint? You think you can fix that man? Does it satisfy your craving for education? You can’t make a cow out of a goat, and you can’t make a decent man out of your Russie! He was a beast, and a beast he’ll remain!”
Tyrimma tried to counter that with something in the vein of “your face is stupid,” but Innie stared at her with such an expression...and so did I, while thinking.
“All right. Tomorrow, you’ll go to a temple and ask them to divorce you. Got it? Show them your back as proof. And now, go to sleep.”
“But I—”
“Innie, brew her a sleeping draught.”
“Yes, Alex.”
I didn’t really want to mess with the Church, but if anything happened, I would feed Russie to Ak-kvir. Maybe he would do me a favor.
Crap!
I had almost forgotten about bandits. I would have to go and find some tonight.
***
Before the evening, we were visited by Lintor and his guards. With the utmost respect, they questioned Innis and Auntie. The girl told them everything and was rewarded with shocking news: Miron
had suspected her lineage from the very beginning, right after seeing her for the first time. The Andagos had a very distinctive look, unusual for Riolonians, who were mostly fair-haired or chestnut, never raven-black. Innis stood out in a crowd. At first, he had thought her an Andago bastard, but then did his research. In two days, having learned who she was, he had started to court her.
If she didn’t believe that, she could read his letters. He hadn’t been completely sure, of course—it was hard to conduct a thorough check quickly—but after meeting Sidon, he lightened up. His suspicions confirmed, he had made his move...with the expected results. And now the guards had to find out who had killed him and the king.
The other visitors were Auntie Madie’s neighbors. Some of them wanted flour, or salt, or something else, but it was written on their faces, Sorry for bothering you during your familial drama, but I’m so curious...
Innis took point on that, politely handing each of them whatever they asked and seeing them out. If I were her, I would have simply thrown a wooden log at them.
The next was Russie, who, having had a good night’s sleep, came to summon his wife from behind the gates.
That was all well and good, but his plan had a problem: me. Finally free to have fun with the logs, I threw one at him, hitting him and sending him into the very same puddle he had spent so much time in the night before. Tyrimma didn’t hear anything, thanks to the sleeping potion.
The last visitor was a high flyer, a robe-wearing vermin with polished fur—a thrall of the Bright Saint. What did he want from us? He came to have a talk. Apparently, someone had reported that we had a servitor lying in a puddle of water next to our fence. I was the one to take care of him. Auntie Madie was spoiling for a fight, but Innie and I didn’t let her, afraid for the old lady's health.
Did those people have any shame or scruples? Hadn’t they seen that the girl had taken up with a swine? They must have.
Yet they also knew that Auntie Madie’s family wasn’t poor, and after her death, her children would inherit everything, half and half. And the half left to her daughter would go to Russie...which meant the Church. They already thought it their own hard-earned property and itched to get their hands on it.
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