The Drake of Craumont

Ruby, as always, spares no time for pleasantries. She strides down the sparsely-decorated hall with purpose, curving us around the side of the building. We even pass right by a little kitchen, crammed full of constables sipping tea poured from a collection of kettles— last time I'd been here, it'd been on my way out after getting arrested. Odd memories of a strange time.

"Conrad Bergman, Liane Haru, Miranda Seidel," Ruby recites, slowing her pace. Her words are even and calm, marching along with the precision of a typewriter. "He, they, she, in order. Do not attempt to physically harm captives. Do not make threats related to relatives, colleagues, friends, et cetera. I will provide background information on each candidate."

Their names are already trying to slip through the sieve of my thoughts, pushed to the side by a wall of regulations and details. The name Conrad hangs, just for a moment, but I can't quite match it up to any face I've bothered to remember.

The moment we arrive at the holding rooms, I hold up a hand to stall the tide, and when Ruby's words keep pouring out, I clear my throat.

Ruby stops short mid-word, and both pairs of eyes present focus on me.

"Just tell me their names when we see them," I tell her flatly, "And I know the laws on captives."

I pause, tail curling to quell my smile.

"Probably."

Lena snorts, poorly stifling a giggle. "Ivy! Was that, ah, was that a joke? You can't just joke about—"

Well, it's better than her being worried. These are former members of her own Church, aren't they?

"She was," Ruby notes, nodding sharply. Three slips of parchment ease free of a sheaf in her bag, and she holds them out to me. "Her voice did change inflection as it does during deliberate attempts at humor."

Attempts at humor. Bah. Well, it worked on Lena, so I’ll count it as a success.

"I do know the laws on captives, by the way. I won't hurt anyone." I take the papers, which look to be more ink than, well, not-ink by now, and fan them out in my hand. Three names, three sets of address, ages, professions, daily schedules... Far better than having to remember names, thank the Gods. "Thanks, Ruby. So, what do you need from us?"

Ruby turns away from us, reaching for the doorknob. "They are afraid of you, Ivy, and may exhibit irrational behaviors. Lena Harkness, you are a member of the Church of the Restoration. Based on their interactions with Alain Hendrick, they will most likely attempt an emotional appeal. I will ask them questions."

"Seems like a good plan," I shrug, mimicking it with a ripple of my tail. Being told what to do grates, as always, but Ruby's always been up-front with her reasons.

Lena's boots scuff against the carpet, and I can see a hand shooting up to toy with her hair. "I, um. I'll do my best."

"Good. We will begin with Conrad Bergman, twenty-four, bricklayer." Even as she's speaking, Ruby opens the door and steps inside.

Before we can follow, though— a few thoughts weave their way together into a memory. It's enough to stall my step, and swing my tail around to block Lena's advance. Her turquoise eyes meet mine, wide and curious. Trusting, even.

"Lena?" I murmur.

"Yes?" She tilts her head, ears flicking.

"Is Conrad the man we met in the bakery?"

Lena pauses, frowns, and shakes her head. "No. He was the one from… the chapel."

Ah.

Well.

"Not my best day, and definitely not yours, either," I mutter back, picking my words carefully. "Want me to scare him again?"

Lena's ears flatten, straining against the muffler cap, and she makes a strangled noise that might be a laugh. "N-no, Ivy! I, um, only if it actually makes sense. He deserves it, but we can't, um. I can't think of a reason not to, actually, but maybe something about interrogations? We should. We should go, Ruby's staring at us."

Pushing my tail aside— well, pushing against it, and I curl it away— she rushes in after Ruby. And yes, Ruby is staring, but she always does that.

I follow Lena in with a smile creeping across my face, and close the door behind me.

Something tells me that both of us are going to need a snack after all of this. Maybe several.

---

"Eiches! Gods, they said you'd changed, but—"

Conrad's voice stumbles to a stop as I duck into the holding room, and I can see that hesitation build in his eyes.

Here he sits in a white-painted room, lit by the bar-slit gold of the sun, with the only true exit directly behind me. He's a scrappy blond with a soft and freckled face, with callused hands that toy with a lump of whitish wax.

As I stare, he shifts back in his seat, moving away with all the courage and subtlety of a cornered deer.

It's all a bit nostalgic, really, but I'd not been the coward this man seems to be. There's the cot and curtain in the corner, the old side table with new books, and a broad table nearly bisecting the room— Conrad on one side, us on the other.

Only, Conrad's not here because he slipped into a vault. Heat stirs in my chest, building to a growl I don't care to stifle.

"I've, um. I've told you to stop calling me that before, Conrad." Lena clears her throat. "And it's Lena now. The ears are, ah. From the Delve."

Conrad looks away, jaw tight. His hands, still toying with that lump of wax, slip beneath the table.

The accusation hangs in the air, ready to fall even in Lena's silence. My tail clacks along the doorframe, curling around my boots so the door can properly close.

Might as well grab the damned noose before it chokes us. “Grew some ears after being overexposed to Delve magic. And I got... sharper,” I offer, baring my teeth. His flinch is something to be savored.

Ruby coughs, taking a seat across from Conrad. "Conrad Bergman," she recites, "age twenty-four, bricklayer, former member of the Restoration Church. You participated in a mob with Bitgarm Dongbaek, willingly and with full knowledge of his intent to seal Paladin Verity Greyfeather and Dame Ivy Amelia Crawford in a Delve. Is this information correct?"

More quiet, underscored by the gentle creaking of a chair as Lena sits down. Conrad's eyes flicker over me, stalling on my arms before resting on Lena. There behind wavering blue is a hint of something, warm but distant. His hands shift beneath the table.

"We didn't think you'd be there, Ei—" Conrad's voice hitches, and I watch his throat bob. My claws twitch. "Lena. Or that you'd do something so risky—"

Ruby's voice cracks through like a cold blade. "Is this information correct?"

Conrad's eyes jerk back to Ruby, but his body stays pointed at Lena. "Yes, Detective."

Ruby Gelson has a plan, I'm sure. She wanted me to intimidate, and Conrad had already tried to appeal to Lena as Ruby predicted. But what, exactly, is her plan here? What’s her plan?

"Was your goal to distract and overwhelm Lord Craumont, Dame Tousavon, and the guards?" Ruby leans forward in her seat, hands clasped in front of her.

"So that they wouldn't get in the way," Conrad says quickly, looking between me and Lena. "You were never part of the plan, E— Lena."

"Y-you tried to kill Ivy and Verity," Lena counters, her words just as swift. "Why wouldn't I stop you?"

"We—"

"As you said," Ruby intones. "Miss Harkness was never part of the plan. Is this information correct?"

Silence.

Conrad nods. I can hear his heart hammering in his chest, count the beats as they rise and fall.

Ruby nods back. "Bitgarm Dongbaek was able to push through the guard detachment with assistance from you and an undetermined number of compatriots. Lena Harkness interceded, pushing two as of yet unidentified members of your group away with magic."

She pauses, tilting her head. "At this point, Bitgarm Dongbaek engaged in a brief discussion with Lena, and then shoved her into the portal. Is this information correct?"

Conrad's expression twists. "I've told you all this before. What is this, entertainment for the…"

He looks at me, I show him my teeth, and he shuts up. Good.

"Yes, detective," Conrad mutters instead.

I turn my focus to Lena, and find her looking right back at me. Her ears twitch, following each subtle shift of Conrad's body, and her turquoise eyes show only the churning cogs behind them.

"If not for the intercession of Dame Crawford and Paladin Greyfeather, Lena Harkness would have passed before the Delve was reopened. As such, you are being tried for attempted murder. This information is corroborated by—"

Conrad's hands slam down on the desk, and he drags himself up to his feet. "We just wanted to slow the Dame down, not murder anyone! That's what Bitgarm told u—"

As suddenly as he stood, he drops back down like a puppet on slack strings. His jaw shuts with a soft click, and if not for the raging beat of his heart, I'd say he's calming down. But no, his fear remains, which is exactly what he deserves. The rage bubbling in my heart begins to seethe and sputter, rising up through my throat.

"Why would you, um. Why would you want to slow Ivy down?" Lena asks, leaning forward in her seat. I bite back the urge to speak, pulling hard on the heat building in my gut.

Ruby clears her throat. "Please elaborate on your statement, Mister Bergman."

Conrad's throat bobs, and I count the pulses of the arteries on his neck. He looks up, swinging his eyes past me and over my shoulder. Go on. Do something useful.

"I won't. Bitgarm didn't plan for this. Nobody was going to get hurt."

"People. Got. Hurt," I growl out, and my voice floods the room. His breathing hitches, his heart pounds just a little bit harder… jumping to a sprint at the sound of my tail slamming into the floor. "Lena got hurt. She nearly died. I nearly died, and a Paladin of Adamantine was bed-bound for days. Doesn't matter what you planned."

I step forward, standing between Lena and Ruby as I lean over the table to stare at him. I'm supposed to scare him, and Gods does the fear in his eyes send a thrill down my spine, but how do I turn that into information? How do I draw real knowledge from cornered prey?

Hah. That's the job for people who know such things, isn't it.

"Conrad," Lena says, voice wavering. "Dongbaek could have. C-could have, um, killed me. Why did you want to slow Ivy down?"

Conrad's jaw twitches.

"Elaborate, Mister Bergman."

"No!”

The word tears free from his throat, raw and sudden enough that his own eyes widen for a heartbeat. Something cracks behind his eyes, but he does not break. "Lena, I'm sorry. I-it was never supposed to be this way, but we have to do this. No matter what, and no matter how many people like her—"

A scream of splintering wood snaps his jaw shut, and my growl keeps everyone else quiet. I don't need to look down to know that my claws are buried deep in the table, ripping through the gentle enchantments and gathering splinters against my palms.

People like her. Like me.

From the look on Conrad's face, he knows he shouldn't have said it. I know damned well what follows: barely human. Inhuman, even. I should rend his flesh, bury my claws in… No. No, Ivy. By Adamantine, I shall be better.

Ruby clears her throat, and for a moment I swear I see a glimmer in her eyes as I turn back. "People like Ivy are a threat to Bitgarm Dongbaek's plan, and given their frequent origin as Delvers, it was assumed they were capable of surviving for an indeterminate or indefinite amount of time within one. You acted on information and assurances from Bitgarm Dongbaek that this was the case, and not on documented evidence. Is this all correct?"

Silence. The connections aren't hard to make, but it's impressive to see Ruby lay it out like that.

But she's not done. Her eyes are gleaming now, and there's a hint of a smile.

"People like her? What does that mean, Conrad?" Lena murmurs, and there! I taste hesitation in Conrad's slumping shoulders, in the way his heart quells and his hands clench.

"I will not require actual confirmation," Ruby says, perhaps a bit redundantly. Still, she nods her head. "Mister Bergman, is it correct that your organization's aim is to destroy Craumont's wards, knowing full well the consequences?"

"We—" Conrad starts, stops, and scowls. "I have nothing more to say. They're barely— I'm… I'm sorry, L—"

"Don't say that!" Lena snaps, leaping up from her chair. My tail lifts to catch her chair mid-fall, and I offer her an apologetic glance as she storms out of the room.

"Confirmation that this is an organization, and premeditated. Ivy, we may leave now for the next captive."

Damn, Ruby. Not bad at all.

With Conrad sputtering, stewing in that foul rage, we leave the room.

---

I would like to say that something interesting happened with the next two captives. That they let slip a meaningful phrase, or tipped Dongbaek's hand.

But, no. All we get is a repetition that has Lena's ears flattening against her cap, and anger swirling in my gut.

Barely human. People like her. Not human anymore. Just as I'd thought.

Goddess. I thought I'd left that foul idea in the eastern Free Kingdoms. Never taking a Delving contract out there again. That all three of them would…

Lena, though, rests a hand on my arm, pulling me from my thoughts before they wander too far. "Are you, ah, alright, Ivy?"

"I'm fine," I snort, raising an eyebrow when Lena's brow furrows. Am I alright? This is… ah, it's about the barely human thing, isn't it. "Don't care what they think of me. Just surprised to hear it in the Ayldom."

"It is an unfounded challenge toward the humanity of advanced Magebloods. I am unclear as to why, given their obvious utility and contributions to society," Ruby declares, frowning. "To conclude my earlier statement—"

Oh. Guess I'd lost track of the conversation. Oops.

"—they are clearly organized, and we were unable to ascertain where the group was fleeing to. They were simply following Bitgarm Dongbaek."

Lena's hand slowly slips away from my arm. "A-and they don't speak for, um. That's not the kind of behavior we, we have at the Church— nobody is treating me differently, really…"

With a sigh, she slumps into her seat, leaving us to listen to the scritch scratch of Ruby's pen against paper.

I just shrug, flicking my tail in Ruby's direction. "Good. What's next, Ruby?"

Ruby's pen scratches to a stop. She frowns, eyes still focused on the ever-spreading mass of parchment, and sticks a hand out to line each piece out into a tidy grid. Her brow furrows.

"I have completed morning duties. It is time for lunch," Ruby decides, nodding slightly. "Sandwiches."

The chuckle slips out of me before I can stop it… not that I'd bother. "Ha! I know a few places."

Lena blinks owlishly, ears twisting to point at Ruby. "Lunch? But, um, don't we have— um. Work? I-if we're still helping you, I mean. It's not, ah, even midday yet."

Ruby blinks back. "Yes."

I raise up a hand to stall Lena's reply, open my mouth, and have to get through a quick fit of laughter before I can speak. "I— ah. Heh. Ruby, what are we doing after lunch?"

Lena's eyes widen, and her lips form a rather amusing O shape before morphing into a smile.

"We clearly do not know everything about the primary culprit." Ruby hums, carefully stacking her papers into neat piles. "Mage, priest, head of two organizations, one of which was secret, and has evaded capture by the most talented individuals in Craumont. He is also willing to omit information and risk the murder of a Paladin to achieve his goals. I suspect there is more we have yet to learn."

Whatever lightness hung in the air vanishes, snuffed like a candle in the wind.

"We will go to the Church rectory. It is time to unravel the mystery of Bitgarm Dongbaek."