Eldritch Exorcist

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes—just as sure as the last three times you asked,” I groaned.

“Can the spiders even recognise Aquientie?”

“Q’Shar.” I looked the cat in the eyes. “We knew this was a gamble,” I said slowly. “I’m not sure. Those weren’t specially prepared corpses, and I don’t carry spider souls around. If anyone from the Aquientie goes to the toilet before the constructs deteriorate, then we should be good. If not, they’ll find three dead spiders.”

“Won’t the spiders be sensed?” asked Luna. “I would sense that.”

“Everyone skilled enough is with the Riswalts, discussing new strategies,” Q’Shar said.

“Don’t worry, we can always parade in and—” I went stiff as I sensed a change. “I think we’ve got a lead,” I said happily.

Q’Shar was about to retort, but he stopped, noticing I was concentrating hard.

“The spider with their second daughter’s initials died,” I informed the room.

“Are you sure he didn’t just squish the spider by accident?”

“The rest had instructions to kill themselves four seconds after an Aquientie member kills any of them, so let’s wa—” Two simultaneous deaths registered on my senses. “Yep, it had to be one of them. I think we’ve got it.”

“So, Rosalia Aquientie,” Luna said. “Are we sure she’s the saint?”

“It’s not like I could have written an entire paragraph on a spider. I barely got the initials and an ‘S’ with a question mark. But I think they understood.”

“Okay, let’s assume it’s her. Now, where are they keeping her?” William said.

Q’Shar nodded in agreement before speaking. “Not in the hotel, that’s for sure. They would need a secure location…”

“Don’t the Aquientie have a mansion in Rome?” I asked, a thought occurring to me.

“Yes, but why would she be at the family’s mansion? That’s Aquientie turf—they couldn’t get in easily,” Q’Shar responded with a frown.

“The cat is right. The Third Chamber might have the least influence in the real world, but we have the most magical knowledge. They wouldn’t be able to barge in silently, not without borrowing quite a bit of power. And this uncouth trick had to be a recent thing.”

“The main branch of Aquientie is here on the sabbath. They could have used that to attack,” Ophelia suggested.

“They would leave the saint with their best men. I doubt anyone could just sneak in, and I’d get a report if there were a large magical battle, enough to overwhelm Aquientie and most likely dark-elven guards.”

It was all sound reasoning. If they kept her in some hidden bunker, then it would be almost impossible to locate the girl. But the ‘how’ was still a mystery. The nobles were undoubtedly less sure of themselves after the duel. And the Aquientie were acting normally up to that point.

This seemed more like a plan executed overnight, silently. But how? Would they keep a contingency like that? They couldn’t move a massive force undetected when everyone was here in the Vatican—I’m sure half the city cats were reporting anyone leaving and entering the hotel.

“Could you check which families have been missing some of their main force? Maybe it’s a group made up of all the factions close to the noble ones, but far enough removed not to be immediately connected,” William proposed.

“None are missing. We checked,” Q’Shar answered, shaking his head. “And it still doesn’t explain how they got the girl silently.”

“What if they used the mortal world?” Ophelia proposed. “Like Special Forces. You remember how Rey traced you,” she said, tilting her head toward me. “Maybe they used a mixture of technology and some lower-level mages?”

I nodded slowly. “That’s possible. That could explain how they learned of the saint. But still, whether it's technology or not, it doesn’t explain how they got to the girl on such short notice. Technology won't get you past a seal. And mortal weapons are many things, but ‘silent’ isn’t on the list.”

“Yeah, any gunshot from their mansion would get reported. Even guns silenced by magic, I can’t imagine it’s something Aquientie couldn’t put up a fight against.”

There was another break in the conversation. Before anyone could propose another theory, the doors opened, and Hori—Q’Shar’s orange friend and right hand—walked into the room. “Riswalts are out of the meeting. They will demand an explanation about the son.”

“He didn’t recognise me,” Ophelia said.

“Yeah, but someone must have. There are cats in this hotel, and some swelling isn’t enough to fool them,” Hori answered.

“Fuck. We are running out of time,” Q’Shar swore. “Let’s leave the how for now. Let’s focus on where they would be keeping her. A place they would have control over, but also hidden enough that the cats working with Aquientie wouldn’t get it. Somewhere where they could transport her without anyone noticing.”

Only silence answered Q’Shar.

“Maybe they used the sewers?” Ophelia proposed.

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“Possible. But where are they keeping her? Rome is a large city,” Luna said, unsure of herself.

Something was scratching at my mind—an obvious explanation staring at me from somewhere. But what was it? We couldn’t just leave out how they attacked. How could they get around the Aquientie that easily?

I started connecting to my magic. The presence of mana was calming, letting my thoughts flow more smoothly. It was like stretching an extra limb to help relax. I could then feel a wet snout on my hand, but I didn’t look down—I knew there wasn’t anything there. It was a sensation I'd known ever since contracting the dog. The animal seemed to pick up on my emotions, and while its range of abilities wasn’t significant, I did get occasional barks, licks, and visions. Right now, I caught a brief glimpse of a dog-shaped shadow sitting by the door, looking like…

“Oh, fuck. I know where they’re keeping her,” I said, more to myself than to others, as the realisation hit me.

The shape of the dog sitting by the door, like my storage gargoyles, finally brought the answer to the forefront of my mind.

“Where?” Q’Shar asked immediately.

“In the Aquientie mansion,” I said.

“Huh?” Even Darius, who didn’t really follow the debate, snapped his head toward me.

“In their mansion. That’s also how they managed to get the saint without anyone finding out. They pulled the same trick the Inquisition did back in the day.”

I saw William, Luna, Q’Shar, and Myhur open their eyes in realisation, but I was getting blanks from the rest.

“Didn’t you ever wonder why the powerhouses of old didn’t just leave undead and high-level golems to guard their families? They can hibernate, and without a spark, they don’t draw that much mana.”

Ophelia frowned. “You said soul constructs deteriorate, so—maintenance?”

“Yes, that too. But you can give them very simple constructs.”

There was silence.

“It’s because you’ll have trouble dictating who their master is.” I gave the answer. “You can’t leave a creature like that—capable of killing an entire family—without anyone capable of maintaining the construct, because you can’t have obvious instructions on who will control them. Doing it by blood will invite trouble in a few generations. Leave it by seniority—once again, who’s to say some older member won’t go crazy and wipe out the family? Passwords, sigils, and artefacts of control can be stolen and leaked. Any more complicated recognition, like souls, requires a complex construct that needs maintenance. That’s how the Inquisition got rid of many of the powerful families without even using mages. They stole the control runes for the old security systems. Created bastard children for golems reacting to bloodlines and so on. Families were wiped out by their own ancient golems. Almost none remained after the war, but some still keep them as a last resort.”

“You think the church used old information from the Inquisition to get into their golems? But if the Inquisition had this kind of info, Aquientie wouldn’t be around—Oh” Q’Shar groaned. “The fucking cat council could get information like that.”

William’s eyebrows rose. “That’s a drastic move for a neutral party. You think they found it before the sabbath?”

“I never leaked any info, but they have the same ability to see our movements as we do with them. They should have figured it out before we actually made the proposition.”

“I bet you Aquientie awoke an old golem to safeguard the saint when the main branch was at the sabbath, and the nobles got a backdoor to the security system. That’s how they did it silently—they used the thing guarding the girl to threaten her, and took her as a hostage.”

Before we could discuss further, another knock came to the door, and a cat walked in to report. “The Riswalts found out about Cajetan’s condition. They will send an invitation soon.”

We were running out of time. We needed an attack plan. If there were a high-circle golem there, it wouldn’t be easy.

“So we smash the golem and get the girl,” Darius proposed.

“More or less. Or stop it long enough to get her back,” I said. “But that all hangs on the idea that the security is weak enough for us to fight our way through.”

I frowned at my own words. I didn’t like that plan—too many unknowns. We were already working on guesswork. Assuming your enemy was weaker and planning accordingly was a surefire way to get ourselves killed.

“No,” Q’Shar protested, and then looked to me. “Sam, if you take a look at the golem, can you tell how they work? The system logic?”

“More or less,” I nodded, thanking the Butcher for his golem-related literature.

“Then I have a better idea. I imagine you were running experiments on those gang members whose souls you didn’t tear?” he asked me.

“Yes,” I confirmed, then gave a quick explanation, seeing some cold stares from Ophelia and William. “Only the worst of the worst get the test-subject treatment—all according to law. Why are you asking?”

The cat smiled so nastily that I thought he and I might be related.

“I’ll finish up the political part. You prepare the attack. But first, I want you to do something.” He turned to Luna. “I need you to find a pervert fitting Sam’s criteria.”

“That should be easy,” Luna said, nodding happily.

“But no one high-level or recognisable—not politicians or celebrities.”

“But that’s like half the list,” Luna protested.

The cat just rolled his eyes as I high-fived her.

Once we got our jokes in, we heard some commotion outside—a group of people protesting and whining about an explanation they were owed.

Q’Shar nodded and then quickly went on to describe his plan—or rather, its outline. It was 3 p.m. We had a few hours to operate. The Riswalts would drag Q’Shar into a long debate, using the “attack” on his son as justification to stop us from scheming. The cat would play along, making sure to tie up Emmanuel Riswalt as well until an hour before the next day's meeting, so they wouldn’t have time to adjust on their side. That meant we needed to figure out the details, attack the mansion, get everything into place, and be back before 7 a.m. the next morning.

We all shared one last look and nodded in silence. Q’Shar put his business-game face on and went for the door. After that, the rest of us left the hotel, making sure we lost any tail we might have gotten. Our departure would be reported for sure, but hopefully, we could sneak around to the mansion relatively unreported, at least before the attack.

Ophelia then went with William, trying to find any communicators and adjust them to the light mana present, since Rome, like New York, now had a faint veil of magic in many places. Darius and Myhur went to get Q’Shar’s friend and bodyguard, Bakari, and organized a ride, making some adjustments with the tiger's help. At the same time, the old cat lady was sent to get a large camping backpack.

First, it would be Luna and me on the job.

In the end, we only half listened to Q’Shar—we were in a time crunch, to say the least—so we settled for one of the candidates for city council. The idiot fell for Luna pretending to be an underage girl online, and with the time needed for the next step, we both decided to pretend he wasn’t “politician enough.” I got started on my task by turning someone’s vacant apartment into my workstation.

Having a blood healer was surprisingly helpful, and I had the setup done in no time. Whoever came back from vacation would have quite a scare—if the blood smell didn’t alert neighbours before that.

The next few hours were spent in a mad rush to get things done, and after cutting a few corners we were all sitting in a car near the mansion, all geared up for the battle.