Chapter 116: The Hidden Outpost
They frowned at that, sinking into thought. Evan pressed on. "We haven't actually finished this. Professor Jessica, you examined that scene with me — what was that strange sigil array actually for? Your team's exchange happened near the gamekeeper's cabin, and both Holred and Fiat kept insisting you'd already taken delivery, demanding the Fallen Angel's Tear back. Doesn't that strike you as strange? And when I fought Fiat, he summoned the devil Ant to possess him — what's his connection to devil worship? None of that's been answered."
"Creator preserve us. You're saying this isn't over?" Jessica asked.
"I'm part of this school, but not part of its inner circle — same as the rest of you. Think about it: Hollingburton mobilizing like this, for a town as small as Burk Town? A team went missing here years ago too, and nothing ever came of it. When I sent that letter, I expected maybe an Arcanist and a dozen mages at most — more than enough for the job. Instead, we get a legendary mage leading fifty people, three of them Arcanists. An Arcanist is already top-tier strength, well past needing to fear knights. Doesn't that seem excessive to you? I'm nothing but a small piece in this. Whatever's really going on here, it's bigger than it looks on the surface. Our part in it is finished, though. No need to dig further. Tomorrow we can walk the streets freely — no one will dare touch us now," Evan said, laying it all out, though leaving plenty unsaid.
They sat with that a moment. Then Lidis laughed. "Creator above, small people like us don't need to know. Knowing wouldn't do us any good anyway. Professor Wang's right. It's over."
"That's right. It's over. To completing our task," Evan said, raising his glass.
"To the task done. To Hollingburton. To the gods," they echoed.
Heathermere overheard all of it from where she sat and simply shook her head, letting them have their moment. They'd earned it — and as they'd said themselves, they weren't at a level to know the deeper currents running underneath this. Let them enjoy the evening.
They all ended up a little drunk, stumbling off unsteadily to bed. Once they'd gone, a strange clarity flickered in Evan's eyes — nothing like a man who'd had too much wine. A moment later, though, his eyes clouded over again, and he made his way to bed, collapsing onto it and falling straight asleep. He didn't wake until the next morning, turning the whole matter over carefully in his mind once more. He decided he'd go looking for someone tomorrow — a vampire.
"Morning. I'm going out to walk the town today — care to join me?" Jessica said in greeting.
"Morning, lovely Miss Jessica. It would be my honor to accompany you. This is probably our last day here — we head back tomorrow. Might as well make the most of it," Evan said.
They ate breakfast and set out. Without either of them saying so, both headed straight for Feimaji's little house. They stopped at the same moment. "When did you start suspecting?" Evan asked.
"Yesterday, while you were talking with Lady Heathermere. When she mentioned a certain vampire clan, you hesitated for just a moment. You covered it well enough afterward, but it caught my attention. Then I remembered — during our minor telepathic link, you'd mentioned a working girl you'd found out was a vampire. What was her name again — Feimaji, wasn't it?" Jessica said with a smile.
"Never underestimate anyone. Working that out from a single flicker — impressive. You truly are beauty and brains in equal measure," Evan said, laying on the flattery.
"That's not really cleverness on my part. I specialize in the mind school — it's a rare enough discipline, but it makes me sensitive to shifts in other people's emotional states, and my own. Yesterday, when Lidis and the others went to your room to drink, I could feel how badly they were struggling," Jessica said, quite frank about it.
"Sensing others' feelings and your own — that's its own kind of wisdom. There's a saying for it: knowing others is intelligence, knowing yourself is enlightenment," Evan said, recalling a familiar phrase from his old life, though he couldn't place where it had come from.
"You really do have a way with words. I hadn't realized you had such a talent for rhetoric before — not that we put much stock in it," Jessica said with a laugh.
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"Enough of that. Since we're after the same thing, let's get moving. I wonder if she just happened to end up in this town, or if she knows something. Her strength is well short of even a vampire baron's level," Evan said as they walked.
"Have you seen any other vampires anywhere in Burk Town?"
"None. That's exactly why I'm suspicious. The Druids' outpost is the gamekeeper's cabin, the dark elves work through the Order Keepers — but the vampires' agent is hiding somewhere I haven't found. With this lead, it's worth checking."
"Why not report it to Lady Heathermere?"
"Nothing's confirmed yet. And, frankly, I'm still a little put out — why should I hand it to her?"
Jessica let out a light, bell-like laugh. "So it's not just Lidis and Raight, then. You feel it too."
"You mean to tell me you've got no grudge sitting in you at all? My god, you really are the picture of purity," Evan said, teasing.
"I'm human too. I've got my share of resentment. Don't provoke me, or I'll go straight to Lady Heathermere with this suspicion right now," Jessica said, giving him a sideways look.
By then they'd reached Feimaji's door, still shut, the house silent inside. Evan glanced both ways, confirmed no one was watching, and pointed a finger, murmuring low — an unlocking charm, meant for breaking into places uninvited. The door swung open on its own. Jessica gave Evan a small smile, and the two of them slipped inside, the door closing itself behind them.
Inside sat a table, two chairs, and further back, a bed — the space cramped and small. Jessica had heard Evan describe it before, but only vaguely; he hadn't mentioned quite how small it actually was, and it shook her a little. "Is this really the vampires' agent here? Why would she live so poorly?"
"No idea. Maybe vampires are just frugal," Evan said, half-joking, uncertain himself.
The bed was empty, and Evan noticed it looked exactly as it had the day he'd first come — untouched, as though no one had used the room since.
He used the unlocking charm again to open the small inner door. Inside, the darkness hid little of note — a coffin, well-sealed, the only thing in the room. Evan pointed at the lid, and it drifted up as though lifted by an invisible hand, sliding aside.
Feimaji's eyes flew open inside the coffin. She let out a low snarl, fangs bared, and sat up sharply, clearly furious at having her rest interrupted, ready to lunge — until her whole body froze at the sight of Evan standing there, smiling faintly. Beside him stood a woman in her twenties, brown hair falling loose over her shoulders, pale skin, eyes bright with curiosity as they studied her. Her figure was hidden beneath a mage's robe, but her face alone marked her as lovely. What frightened Feimaji most was the faint spiritual glow around her — unmistakably a mage.
"Had enough sleep?" Evan asked mildly.
Her anger drained away at once. She scrambled out of the coffin, her voice carrying no trace of hostility at all. "I haven't gone out in days. You've got the wrong person — please, let me be. I'm just a poor working girl. I can't stand against people like you. None of this has anything to do with me."
"We're here for you specifically. What are you, really?" Evan asked.
"What am I? Just a street girl. I've never crossed you."
"Now there's a rare thing — a vampire working as a common prostitute. First time I've heard of it. You've buried yourself deep. Why? What's your connection to Count Dracula?"
"I really don't know anything. I'm just a poor girl who took the wrong client a year ago — he turned me, and that was that. I found out soon enough I was nothing but a lowly vampire, still stuck at the bottom same as before. Please, spare me — I'm nobody to people like you." Feimaji pleaded with real desperation. She knew she stood no chance against either of them, and she had a long stretch of years still ahead of her, youth that would linger until she grew tired of it herself. For now, though, she carried none of a vampire's usual pride — she'd only been turned a year, and hadn't met another of her kind besides the one who'd made her.
Evan looked disappointed. He glanced at Jessica, who looked equally unconvinced. "Don't be afraid," Jessica said. "We're only here to investigate. No harm meant. Professor Wang — doesn't seem like it's her."
Evan nodded, though something still nagged at him. He studied Feimaji, searching for what felt wrong. A vampire working as a prostitute — rare, sure, and she'd have some say in her clients, but there was no real need for it at all. Something clicked into place. He knew, suddenly, exactly what was wrong. He turned to Jessica. "Let's go."
Jessica turned, disappointed, ready to leave — when a strange presence surged up out of nowhere. She startled, then understood at once, staring at Evan in surprise. Evan had released his own aura, pressing it down over the room. Feimaji, just beginning to relax, felt that weight crash down on her without warning. Her wings burst open on reflex, her body lifting off the ground. She stared in shock, her own body no longer answering to her, and a man's voice came out of her mouth. "How did you find out?"
"A vampire — or any of the blood clan, really — carries a deep-rooted sense of pride in what they are. For one to go on working as a prostitute, even if that had been her trade before the turning, doesn't add up. Becoming part of the blood clan reshapes the very form of a life. I don't believe for a moment she'd still want to work that trade afterward. So — how are you controlling this poor woman?" Evan's eyes had gone a deep, glowing green.