Eldritch Exorcist

He looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

“Are you drunk?” he asked. “Your father worked—”

“My father didn’t need anyone’s help, not in the last years of his life. What was it your father did for him? Find some cases? Find basic information? He didn’t do anything that any other broker wouldn’t be able to do. There was no need for it.”

“Cover-up for the technology keeping him alive?”

“Preserving the existing cover-up, the same one that was in place for the last 800 years.”

The cat looked at me with suspicion for a few seconds before speaking once again. “How do you know that?”

“My father’s machinations reached well beyond his death. It’s not a stretch to think you were part of them.”

The air was still, heavy with silence as the cat processed my words, his frown only deepening.

“What does it change?” he finally asked. “So I failed your father as well, even harder than I thought. I got in the way of some grand plan of the Alhazred clan. I fucked up—”

“You never asked me about it,” I said all of a sudden, interrupting his self-loathing streak.

“What?”

“About my soul. I know you did research into souls for the Butcher case. I know you borrowed my notes on Soul Defects in Flesh. I know you know what an unbalanced soul is.”

“I didn’t get to that part.”

“Beady eyes in people who don’t know struggle, wide, empty eyes for those who never knew joy. One becomes cruel. The other can even become a hollow,” I started as if I were giving a presentation.

“Fine, I read it. What does it have to do with anything?”

“You never asked me what happens to a soul that didn’t experience fear. I know it wasn’t mentioned in the book.”

“I’m not a soul mage. I wasn’t interested in the details.”

I looked at him with raised eyebrows as he looked away.

“Were you scared of the answer?”

“I assumed nothing happened because it wasn’t described.”

“Mhm. It wasn't described because it’s supposed to be impossible. Even little shits who never had to struggle still fear the dark or death. But there is an exception.” I looked at him with raised eyebrows. “My family studied the effects. We mitigate as much as we can, but that’s not enough. A craziness to the eyes, a toothy smile,” I said, giving him the same type of smile. “The behavioral ones… thrill-seeking. Anything to get some adrenaline when its main source is gone.”

The cat listened, confused about where I was going with the topic.

“You see, sooner or later, I’ll get myself into a really shit situation. I’ll dive headfirst into something that has a real chance to kill me. Everyone with my family name did. My father said there were two things to keep you alive once that happens: power and allies. We are veeery good at the first one, but horrible at the second. The solution is simple–find someone as natural at finding alliances as we are at finding problems. That person would be the second most important in the clan after the family head.”

I let the words hang in the air before continuing as his eyes widened.

“You see, the idea that my father—the same man who made deals with Yith—would just let any other cat have the position because he liked working with his father is laughable. He saw something in you. And believe me, if he had any doubt that you weren’t a good fit, your father would not be anywhere close to me or… you would be dead. That’s why I never questioned your plans. It’s not even a matter of trust in you—I simply trust my father’s eyes.”

“Your father was after me?” the cat repeated, disbelief still heavy in his voice, but a note of acceptance also slipped his way in.

“I’m pretty sure he was,” I confirmed, shrugging. “You failed, more or less. I got my ass handed to me the first time I fought Peter, but since we’re both still alive and very much kicking, I’d say it’s time for a new plan. You know much more about the alliances. You know better than I do the reasons those two families would have to betray us. So, my good friend,” I said, approaching him, “What. Is. The. Plan?”

Q’Shar sat there looking confused, many emotions going through his face from doubt to pride and disbelief. I knew his father was an unreachable giant for him, much like mine was for me.

“Fine,” he said, and I smiled, seeing determination back in the feline eyes. “Pass me the files. Second cabinet to the left. Bring all of them.”

I wasn’t sure he completely believed me, but judging by the firmness of his voice, he believed me enough. I happily got the files for him and waited as the feline’s eyes darted back and forth over rows of letters, graphs, and photos on the pages. His frown deepened with each page turned, but a small smile started to bloom alongside the frown.

“Motherfuckers,” he hissed.

“So, what’s the plan?” I asked.

“Violence,” Q’Shar answered, to which I smiled ear to ear.

“You see? Now you almost sound like an Alhazred.”

We gathered in the cat’s room, looking at the animal sitting on a stool, gazing over all of us. His tail moved in wide, fast swings behind him. We all waited for the cat to speak.

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“The Aquientie family and the Dark Elves betrayed us,” he started, with slow, measured words. “Or at least that’s what it looks like on the surface.”

“On the surface?” Darius shouted. “I’m not the vote-counting type, but I’m pretty sure we would have lost if not for Brazil. Sounds like a betrayal under the surface too.”

“I can’t believe I agree with the brute—but yes, it’s hard to argue the contrary,” William spoke in a slow, measured voice.

“Only on the surface. Now, looking over the files, I think we missed something. Some of their movements were strange,” Q’Shar paused, meeting our gazes before he continued. “I think the Saint of Arachne showed herself in the Aquientie family,” he dropped the bomb.

Everyone was stunned, myself included.

“Not only a saint, but a saint of an elven god showed herself among a human family. You know how this sounds?” Luna asked.

“Iii have to agree. We demihumans are close to our gods. This would be an anomaly within the circle.”

“Not if you look at the family closely,” the cat said. “Their curses have always looked similar to the magic used by Dark Elves—eerily similar. And looking through the reports, there has always been some communication, not much, but constant throughout history.”

“We don’t know if that’s true.” William was still skeptical. “Most records were burned. It might be that Dark Elves are simply the last surviving worshipers of Arachne.”

“No, that’s actually quite possible,” Ophelia took the voice, and all looked at her. She held our gazes without flinching and continued. “I studied all the texts about gods and their chosen that Sam had. There were three saints recorded in them of the Arachne god, all Dark Elves of royal bloodline.”

The cat looked at us triumphantly.

“A lot of this is stories and legends, and we don’t know how big the grain of truth in them is.” I had to calm their enthusiasm.

“Let’s assume that Arachne is a Dark Elven god and that saints come from the royal family. Let’s assume that the Aquientie got close to the Dark Elves in their study of curses. Let’s assume it was more than just mutual study. What if, at some point, a child between the two was conceived—a bastard hidden from the world?”

“Iiit could be possible.” Myhur nodded.

“So… what if the royal bloodline of the Dark Elves was broken during the war and Inquisition? What if the Dark Elves didn’t know about it and tried creating another saint?”

“That’s a lot of ‘what-ifs.’ And to rouse the blood of a god would take massive amounts of resources,” Luna spoke as the blood expert.

“Is it impossible?” asked Q’Shar.

“Well, no. Rituals like that usually require many low-level mages rather than one powerful one—it’s meant for common people to summon a protector. But it would take a lot of elves and a lot of power to control it among them.”

“But it would be possible?”

“Technically… yes.”

“Well, the elves, not just Dark, but all of them, recently gathered in a meeting. We assumed it was about the moves some mortal corporations would be making onto their territory. But I was wrong, a bit too many elves gathered, and the few in the reports aren’t that close to the political side of their hidden valleys. So what if it was for the ritual? What if Dark Elves made deals with others to help them create a saint in exchange for later help?”

“And you think that saint awoke among the Aquientie?” I asked.

“Yes. Two months ago, the elves gathered and performed the ritual. But it turns out the strongest royal blood is in the noble family. A newborn saint would be vulnerable. The Aquientie are close to the magic of Arachne, so they would treat it as a boon. The elves can’t summon another saint for quite some time, so they have to talk with the humans. And I think I know when they found out. Before the sabbath, we received a strange protective alliance proposal from the Aquientie. It was weirdly written in a secretive language, so we asked for clarification, but didn’t receive it. I compared their wording with any previous documentation we had from them and the Dark Elves, and there are similarities. I also looked through the resources we sold to prepare for building the mansion. Elves bought quite a bit. One clan at a time, it’s not suspicious, but when you look over everything as a whole, it seems like they were preparing a ritual.”

The cat now looked over us excitedly.

“What if they wanted help with protecting the saint? They tried to get us to help without revealing him or her to the world, then backtracked. The Aquientie and the Dark Elves might trust us, but if the ritual borrowed resources from the rest of the elves, they would block revealing any information to us. That’s why the talks never continued. And now someone has either kidnapped or threatened that saint. For the Dark Elves, it’s the most important person after their god. For the Aquientie, having a saint as a family member and failing to protect them would bring the wrath of said god, not an issue if you’re not a worshiper, but if their magic borrows from teachings of Arachne….”

I thought about it with a deep frown. We all looked at each other as we went over the story.

“This is why the rest of the elves withheld their vote,” William said to himself.

“Theee elves vote all over the place—we never counted on them,” Myhur said.

“Yes, but the Church’s history with other species isn’t good, and the elves are proud. We never counted their vote, but we hoped they would vote against the Church out of spite.” Q’Shar said. “They usually did.”

“There are holes in the theory. How would they kidnap the saint without any trace? The city is full of cats for the sabbath, and no one noticed? The Aquientie would put up a fight, not to mention they would have help from the elves.” I asked with raised eyebrows.

“Maybe it was done before the sabbath?” Ophelia proposed, but Q’Shar shook his head.

“No. They acted normally before today. No attempts at passing messages. Confirmed their vote without hesitation. It must have been very recent. That part… I don't know.”

There was a pause in the conversation.

“Okay, so what now?” Luna said. “Let’s, for now, assume all of this is correct, and they somehow got to the saint. Do we go to the sabbath authority?”

“No.” I shook my head. “That is just assumptions and what-ifs. Even if this makes some sense, we would need unshakable proof. And even with that, it might be a problem.”

“We don’t go to the authorities even if we have all the proof,” Q’Shar broke the silence.

“Oh?”

“The near-loss was humiliating. It was a challenge to the authority of the Alhazred clan, and the underhanded method is a declaration of war for all I care. A tooth for a tooth and an eye for an eye. We will pay this back—and then some,” the cat hissed. I had never seen him this pissed, but I could see there was a pride I hadn’t noticed before in his voice. “First, we will need confirmation, then a rescue plan, and lastly, we will see Riswalt squirm.”

“Can’t we just go to the Aquientie and ask them?” Darius asked with a deep frown.

I gave Q’Shar a questioning look, but it was William who answered.

“We wanted clarification while you two talked. But they refused to communicate and went to the nobles’ hotel wing. Sabbath servants are carrying their stuff as we speak.”

We winced, but I noticed Q’Shar didn't look surprised.

“So what’s the plan?” I asked him.

“Carefully controlled, professionally directed and contained… violence.”

“You sound like Sam,” William commented with raised eyebrows.

“Aaaside from that ‘carefully controlled, professionally directed and contained’ part,” Myhur added.

After everyone got their laughs at my poor expense, we began planning. We had until tomorrow to confirm the shaky theory, find the saint, kidnap her back, and get our votes back. We needed a very good plan.