Chapter 100: Lingering
Simon hung around for a week. It wasn’t hard. He knew the town better than most, and between the refugees and the news that someone had killed the Baron, it only took a change of clothes to evade the law that really only seemed to be halfheartedly looking for the Baron’s murderer.
Honestly, if having to find half-decent food was the thing that annoyed him most about his current situation, then listening to the gossip in the aftermath of the Baron’s death was the best. No one had anything positive to say about the man, and by the time the funeral rolled around a few days later, Simon thought there would be riots.
Sadly, no one pelted the man’s procession with rotting vegetables, though he reasoned that was only because food was so scarce just now. It turned out that Vardin’s younger brother had long ago died under mysterious circumstances, and his son was too young to inherit the title in his place.
Instead, the head of the man’s household guard took over one night in something that sounded very much like a palace coup to Simon’s ears and appointed himself Regent and Lord Protector until the boy came of age. Normally, that would have rubbed Simon the wrong way, but he cared very little about what happened to the Raithewait bloodline.
Simon enjoyed the circus it caused just the same, but he spent most of his time in the graveyard. That wasn’t just because he had a late-night appointment with Varten’s freshly dug grave, either. It was just quiet.
Sometimes, he would talk to Freya, even though he knew she wasn’t actually there. Other times, once that got him good and depressed, he would go to the reflecting pool and talk to the mirror.
In fact, as the days passed, except for his trips into town to look for the damn portal in every gate, alleyway, and public building, he spent almost all his time talking to the damn mirror. The thing didn’t have many answers, but now that he understood that wasn’t its role, it annoyed him less than it did up until now.
It didn’t know anything because he hadn’t told it anything, but once he did, it would be more useful. So he tried to think of it like a journal and just tell it whatever. He started with the basics, telling it about each floor he’d come across in order.
What was in it, what the hazard to be cleared seemed to be, and other similar details came first. On floors where he wasn’t sure, he just rambled at length. This was especially true in places like the jungle city and the trap floor.