Infernal Investigations

Ten minutes passed while I went through my inventory. Twenty. Then I heard the door open and close, bell jingling.

I kept my mind focused on the work, just letting the sounds come to warn me if either of them made their way for the basement. It was easy when I’d already solved the internal debate on what to use. We would use everything. I wouldn’t need anything left over.

Two treads of boots on the floor, one moving around upstairs before coming to a stop.

The second came down as I’d cracked open a spherical crimson flask, near my face and tilted to the point it was almost spilling on me.

“Please tell me that’s not acid,” Gregory said from the doorway.

“Of course it’s not,” I replied indignantly. “It’s a healing potion, and an expensive one as well.”

Gregory frowned, walking inside and closing the door behind him. “Expensive to make or expensive to buy?”

“Buy,” I said, wafting some of the potion’s vapors. Still as strong as when I’d first purchased it. “This is beyond my capabilities, powerful regenerative magic. Keep in mind, I’m skilled from the number of commonly available recipes I’ve studied and practiced. I’m not what most would consider further than a talented apprentice or starting journeywoman. Some of the more powerful elixirs remain firmly in the hands of the guilds. They don’t let that knowledge travel far.”

Not even the Queen had broken that yet, the guild’s reluctance to part with their deepest held secret and most powerful magics. Never mind the more powerful mages who kept to only themselves. There were rumors about the industrialists continuing to bribe guild members to defect to them or leak specific recipes, and the city still waited for the guild’s counterblow to that. Didn’t matter much to someone as low in the city’s hierarchy as me.

“Couldn’t you have joined an alchemist’s guild?” Gregory asked. “I know your race might be an issue but you are clearly skilled and-“

“Gregory, I appreciate the thought but no, I was never going to join an alchemists guild,” I told him while resealing the potion’s bottle. “No alchemists guild worth the name will not have a way to detect magic. In my case we could pick between the magical tattoo marking me as a member of a group of rebels, or practicing diabolism as a reason they would reject me.”

“Oh,” he said, visibly deflating. “And mentioning the fact you work for Intelligence wouldn’t help, would it?”

“Definitely not,” I agreed. “Admitting you’re a spy doesn’t make people more willing to let you join them.”

I headed to a crate in the corner, reaching for a crowbar nearby and got to work.

“You two have an interesting conversation?” I asked lightly as took the lid off the crate.

Inside, I’d nestled over three dozen small round bottles in straw, sealed tight with wax and cork to avoid any exposure to the air. I should have sprung for lead, given what would have occurred if I exposed the contents to air. Far too stingy of me.

“Of a sorts,” Gregory said. “She said she needed some air, I was just making sure that she wasn’t going to continue storming all the way out of the city after tearing through your door.”

“My still unbroken door?” Worrying about expenses seemed ridiculous both with what I was planning, but some part of me couldn’t stop.

“Yes, your still unbroken door,” Gregory replied, rolling his eyes. “You’ve boasted about your hearing enough that we know you can hear us moving around, never mind actually breaking your things.”

“True,” I said, grabbing the first of the bottles, checking the seal via dunking into a bucket of water. A few seconds to make sure no bubbles came to the surface was sufficient. I didn’t have a more precise method.

“Can we talk?” Gregory asked me.

“Wanting to talk made Alice storm out that door,” I replied, grabbing the second vial. “Are you sure you want to?”

“Depends, are you going to make me storm out the door?”

A few seconds, as I waited to make sure the seal on the second potion was intact. Gregory steadfastly refused to leave, just waiting, and eventually I sighed.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“What Tagashin did,” he said, and I eased a little bit. This would at least be easier to talk about than the other thing, and would be less disastrous than if Alice came down to overhear. “That I wouldn’t be shocked if she considered trying to ‘fix’ you.”

“In fairness to Tagashin, I don’t think she intended it to ‘fix’ me,” I said. “Nor do I think it did, but it helped. And also helped me be ready for when the remnants of that devil’s soul tried to force me into becoming a replacement for it. I welcomed it in, and I needed something to try and help me when I paid the consequences for it.”

“You ripped the thing’s essence from your mouth and tossed it on the ground,” Gregory said. “Seemed a pretty firm rejection to me.”

“It did, didn’t it?” I replied, sighing as I checked the seals on more of the vials. “Unfortunately, not only are the Hells greedy for whatever they can get their hands on, the fact there was any intent at all towards eating the vile things gave it a way inside.”

“So you wanted to become a devil?” Gregory asked cautiously and quietly, as if afraid a loud noise would spook me like a deer.

I growled lightly. “Yes, in a moment of weakness, combined with an absolutely shite week. That and having enough Diabolism temporarily coursing through my veins to practically make me a devil for that fight. So yes, some part of me considered it. And then I decided no, and it tried forcing me to accept it.”

The smaller vials were done by now, and now I grabbed a large flask, unscrewing the lid.

“If you’re going to ask me questions, you can do me a favor,” I said, pouring the contents of the vial into the water bucket. “Go splash this on the pig, would you? Be sure to wear gloves.”

“And what is it going to do to the pig?” Gregory replied, looking at the bucket warily.

“Put it to sleep,” I explained. “Nothing more, nothing less. What did you think it was going to do?”

“Dissolve the pig?” Gregory ventured, and I stared blankly at him. “What, it’s a reasonable assumption.”

“I don’t just splash acid on creatures,” I muttered. “Just go put the pig to sleep please. With gloves!”

A little exposure wouldn’t put him to sleep, that soporific’s effects via touch were rather weak, but I didn’t want him even a little drowsy for later. Even just being a little off could cause death if anyone interfered in tonight’s plan.

My current prediction was that at least one person would, and none of the people involved in this were lightweights.

I finished checking another set of vials while in the other room Gregory splashed the pig with the bucket. The pig squealed in protest, but half a minute later the squealing was gone, a strange quiet coming from the other room.

“So,” Gregory said, coming back inside the lab. “What is going on with you?”

“Resolutions to change,” I said venomously. “Which everyone is making very difficult by acting like me trying to be better is equivalent to me going insane. Or being entranced by the fey.”

“More than fair,” Gregory said. “Still, it was a sudden change in attitude, so can you really blame people?”

“I guess not, but it’s infuriating,” I muttered. “I’m trying to be better, and it’s difficult, and people questioning it do not make it easier.”

“Fair, fair,” he said placatingly. “I think everyone has been questioning because of the other circumstances.”

“Yes, and it’s understandable,” I muttered. “Just…infuriating. I want to try.”

“Understood, and if nothing else I support anything you do differently,” Gregory said. “I just think you should get help and advice from people besides fey creatures before you make any serious decisions.”

“Too late,” I said soberly.

“Referring to earlier?” he asked me carefully.

Saying no to that would just make him suspicious about what I really meant. And it was true, mostly for reasons I couldn’t mention without revealing the other person I’d been kissing that day.

“Yes,” I whispered. “I…I’m not sure why I did that. And I feel like I took advantage of you when your emotions were running high, and…”

I trailed off, breathing heavily, trying to master the swirling thoughts inside my head. What had started as a lie to hide the actual reasons wasn’t feeling like a lie anymore.

“I don’t feel taken advantage of,” Gregory said, taking a step closer but still giving me space. “If that helps.”

“A little,” I said, trying to keep emotion out of my voice and failing. “I don’t know what I want, what I wanted when I did that, and I still don’t.”

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“You don’t need to,” Gregory said. “I’m not asking this to rush any kind of decision out of you, Malvia. I’m asking because I wanted to know, and if you don’t know yourself I’ll wait until you’ve figured out what you want.”

“And if that’s ending whatever might have been?” I asked him.

“Then while I’ll regret never finding out what could have been,” Gregory said steadily. “I’ll accept it like any other answer. I’ve buried regrets and not let them rule me, Malvia. I will not start throwing venom in your face again over giving me another.”

Seconds passed, then I nodded. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” Gregory said. “Was there anything else in that yelling earlier, anything to be concerned about? Nothing to make her decide to leave again later if it remains unresolved, I hope?”

Well, I thought as I gingerly pulled another vial out of the straw packaging, at least no one had made out what we were yelling at each other. And she hadn’t shared all the details with Gregory, which meant his concerns about me were entirely his own. I didn’t know whether that was better or worse.

“Nothing to drive her that far,” I said. “Just some worries and concerns. A reevaluation of where we stand with each other.”

Please let him not take too much meaning out of those words. I did not need distractions. Despite my own decisions adding more and more to the pile.

“What are you messing around with down here, anyway?” Gregory asked me, reaching a hand towards a nearby tray.

My tail intercepted and slapped it away with a crack. “Nothing you should put your hands on. Seriously, don’t jostle that tray, you’ll set them off.”

Gregory hurriedly moved away from the table, moving back towards the door, putting the wall between himself and my lab. “Those are explosives?”

“Barely,” I replied, moving the tray closer to the middle of the table. “Mostly noise and light, but if you do set them off exposed to your skin, it will burn. But I’m more worried about it shattering the other vials.”

There was nothing in here that would poison us on its own; I’d stored those in the cupboard nestled in padded boxes. But some fumes mixing would be.

Normally, I had vents that directed the gases to a pocket underneath the house for the heavier than air ones, where I could properly dispose of them, and a filtered one heading up. And a seal to cut this room off, rudimentary as it was. Expensive too.

I probably shouldn’t be angry about the cost considering the fight with the devil had wrecked none of the alchemicals. It had just destroyed all three of the safety measures.

“We’ll be safe as long as you don’t bump into anything,” I told him. “Although I am getting the more dangerous substances out.”

“More acid?” Gregory asks, taking a cautious step back into the room.

“Not quite,” I said. “Although it should have a similar effect on our opposition that the acid had on Hawkins.”

I pulled a leather pouch from the shelf, moving it to the center of the table. Really, I should wear gloves, but the bottles were so damn small that they were difficult to handle with leather over my fingers. Inconsiderate just because it wasn’t capable of hurting them.

The pouch opened up to reveal six vials nestled among soft cotton, carefully packaged pain in a bottle.

Gregory was closer now, not close enough to distract me but close enough to see the vials. “What are those? Poison?”

“Holy water,” I told him, lifting one out and carefully laying it against a tray

Gregory blinked, then looked down at the innocuous little vial.

“Malvia, why do you have holy water? Also, why would it work like acid?”

“Because it’s a very effective weapon?” I replied, gingerly picking another one out of the container. “It has its limitations, but those don’t matter as much here in the Quarter.”

“It’s also extremely dangerous to yourself,” Gregory said, nervously eyeing the vials as I put them on the table. “Can’t you just hire someone to do it instead?”

It looked ridiculous. These wouldn’t do anything to him.

I rolled my eyes, then gestured towards the ceiling, where the rest of the Quarter was.

“I’ll give you one guess how many non-infernals I could hire that I would trust to be an assistant exist,” I said drily. “To be honest, the ones who didn’t have issues with my race would be the most suspicious. I’d be handing them something to poison me with.”

Gregory winced. “Okay, that sounds perhaps a bit overly paranoid, but I can’t disagree with it. Still, why even bother with it? And where do you get it from?”

“The first part is easy enough,” I told him as I poured more into the flask. “What makes it so dangerous to me makes it dangerous to most people in this quarter. And even for those who think me insane enough to carry it, it’s exorbitantly expensive to acquire, so how could I have some? As for the second part, I’d rather not answer that to protect my source.”

“Expensive?” Gregory asked, confused.

“Noble,” I said teasingly. “Yes, some things are out of the price range of us common folk.”

“Even before I got disowned, I did actually shop for things,” Gregory told me. “But beyond that, I have enough experience with holy water to know if you have an actual need for it, most churches aren’t going to demand a fortune for it.”

“Didn’t even bother,” I told him. “Tildae wouldn’t want it used as a weapon; Halspsus would never let me inside. Those are the two best known for using it, so I went for a less legitimate supplier.”

“And they charged you how much for this?” Gregory asked more soberly.

I frowned, pausing as I put the vial down. “Hundred pounds per liter? It’s why I’ve only got these vials.”

Gregory grabbed one of the little vials, and before I could stop him, had tasted it with the end of his tongue.

“Those were expensive,” I hissed, before pausing as Gregory shook his head suddenly, coughing.

“Wow,” he rasped quietly. “Yeah, that stuff has got a kick.”

I cursed, already marking the normally reliable supplier I’d ordered them from for death. Well, as close as I could manage.

“You’re telling me I got tricked into buying alcohol?” I said. Damnation, I know I should have poured some on my finger, tissue damage be damned.

“No,” Gregory wheezed, then coughed. “You. Got tricked into buying very potent holy water. Oh, that feels like it’s trying to scour my stomach of sin. Definitely Halpsus.”

Higher-purity holy water? How would that even work? It was already water, just with divine magic poured into it? Even more divine magic than normal. I eyed the vial uncertainly as it shook in his hand while he coughed.

“How potent?” I asked Gregory after he finally got the stopper back on it. “If you can measure that.”

“Don’t know if it can,” he wheezed. “Probably a bishop? Oh, it does not agree with what I’ve been doing.”

“Are you accusing it of passing moral judgment on you?” I asked incredulously.

“Considering which deity it originated from, yes,” he said, before shuddering violently. An arm nearly hit the table, and I hurriedly wrapped my tail around his waist, dragging him away from the alchemicals. He doubled over, barely on his feet as he let me pull him away. “It probably is sensing my sinful Tarver nature and is punishing me for…oh, that burns.”

“Do you need healing?” I asked, eyeing the healing potions I’d just finished examining. Probably overkill, but if this was eating at his insides, we needed that fixed now.

“No,” Gregory said, straightening up with a wince. “It’ll burn itself out and won’t hurt too bad while judging me from a very narrow moral code.”

Another wince at that as his hand went to his throat.

“As long as I don’t insult that moral code,” he rasped in correction. “Should be fine in a few minutes. Probably should have poured on my hand instead of trying to drink it.”

“That might have been safer,” I agreed, keeping my distance in case. “So, I wasted my money is what you’re saying?”

“Maybe not?” Gregory said. “It’s probably more powerful than we need but it can do the job well.”

I raised an eyebrow, inviting him to continue explaining.

“For dealing with devils, while more potent water will hurt them more, even just regular holy water would repel and burn,” Gregory said. “It’s why the acid comment confused me; it would burn but not melt flesh. Well, regular holy water. Blessed by a bishop then yes I could believe it eating through anything it considers sinful.”

So not useless. Actually, it's probably more useful than I originally considered. But it did leave me with one question. “Okay, why do you know so much about holy water?”

“I deal with it a lot,” Gregory said. “Once per week at a minimum I help distribute it, prepare it, and so on and so forth. You bought this as a weapon originally?”

“That’s what I intended for what I had left. I originally used it to put the Imp to sleep. It’s what the dealer suggested when I brought up dealing with diabolism.”

“The fence, you mean,” Gregory replied.

“Gregory, not everyone who deals in illicit goods is a fence,” I said. “But yes, when I mentioned getting rid of a possible diabolical influence, they suggested this.”

“Did you tell him it was inside you?”

“No,” I admitted. “I couldn’t let anyone find that out.”

“Then he probably thought you had a physical problem and suggested the grade that would work best,” Gregory said. “If you’re trying to kill a small devil? Use the most powerful one. Well, that and it would be a way to charge you as much as possible.”

That made sense. An uncomfortable amount of sense given the calm confidence of the person who’d ‘arranged’ for this box to fall off a cart.

“Why would you deal with holy water so much?” I said, arching an eyebrow. “I know I’m not the best versed in religious practices, but I see nothing about worshipping Tarver that would require purification, healing, or splashing Diabolic creatures with it?”

“Nonsense, what self-respecting bard would do that?” Gregory said. “Holy Water is very soothing for the throat, perfect for longer performances.”

“Cheaters,” I chided him as I set the vials side-by-side across the table. I had ten in total.

“Others use alchemical aids,” he protested. “And other tools as well; it’s not like they don’t have their own methods, and ours are divinely approved.”

“Yes, I see Tarver approving of each blessing of water,” I said. “Oh Lord Tarver, please bless this holy water so I can beat this foolish, secular musician for performing at the Blue Belle Cafe.”

“Hey now,” Gregory said. “The Blue Belle is a well-regarded spot for aspiring bards, and we have monthly competitions among the novices where they fight for the most tips per night. Bards have broken more lutes over a fellow bard’s head for that than any other reason.”

“I guess that’s part of the promised entertainment for the guests?” I asked.

Gregory paused, mouth working as he tried to figure out an answer that wasn’t ‘yes’.

“We don’t need to discuss the cutthroat politics of bard infighting over what inn they can play at. How much can you get me?” I asked him.

“A few gallons,” he said. “If I can convince the temple that its a worthy cause.”

“If this isn’t worthy, I don’t know what is,” I said, smiling sweetly. “Well, Mr. Montague, it sounds like you’ve found the perfect thing to do to prepare for tonight.”

His face fell. “Shit, I just volunteered myself for extra work, didn’t I?”

“Language,” I said with fake sweetness. “But yes, as the only one capable of convincing the temple of our urgent need, I hope you are prepared to hoof it to your temple and make the request on my behalf.”

Gregory chuckled nervously. “The coach is long gone by now, isn’t it?”

“Your memory doesn’t fade that fast; it was already heading out almost before we got off,” I said. “After all, what respectable person would be found loitering in the Infernal Quarter?”

“What about helping you with the rest of this?” he said, gesturing at the assortment of alchemicals around the room.

“We’ll bring some ones that might be useful, but I doubt we’ll use them,” I said, eyeing another shelf.

Voice-throwing potions that allowed you to speak where you’d been a minute previously, various poisons that needed to be ingested to be effective, elixirs that could temporarily give you strength but drained twice as much for four times as long once the effects wore off.

“Either way, I have more than enough time to check them,” I said. “More holy water would be more useful than any of these. Surely you can withstand some walking?”

“Walking I can withstand,” Gregory said. “Venturing through the quarter by myself? Without just using holy energy to burn anyone who looks at me funny?”

“Take Alice,” I said before I actually thought that idea through, and halfway through realized that any fear of them talking was minute compared to the actual risk of some tough thinking Gregory looked like an easy target. “She knows the Quarter, and having her with you will make folks think twice even if they don’t know who she is.”

It was a little startling that even being shorter than most everyone else, Alice radiated such an intense energy of not being worth fucking with. Again, another mark for the part-dwarf theory she’d bitten me over voicing in the past.

“You’ll be fine by yourself?” Gregory asked me.

A joke about which of us was the least skilled at actually fighting came to mind, but I knew it wasn’t what he meant.

“I’ll be fine,” I reassured him. “I think I’m better than I’ve been in years. Don’t worry about me.”

There was a reason for him to worry, but he couldn’t know about it until I’d finished. My heart didn’t even know if it was the right thing to do or not. It might not be. But I would not drag two other hearts I’d ensnared into having to make a choice on it either.