Trial by Fire: Ch 9

The clockwork bug Karalti held in her mouth looked something like a tarantula with a round speaker device embedded on its back. It was about the size of a large mouse, stamping and kicking with eight needle sharp legs. Karalti pranced up with it, and was about to offer it to me when it managed to jam one of its feet into her tongue. She squealed and tossed it down onto the floor, where it bounced with a metallic sound. It landed on its back, kicking its little brass legs. My HUD flagged it as [Arachnoid Artifact’].

“What the hell...?” Suri said. She and Father Toth converged on us, arriving just as the robot flipped itself over and tried to make a run for it. I stomped down, and trapped it against the floor with my boot. Despite its size, it was tough: I had to put a good part of my weight on it before the clockwork arachnid stopped struggling - and even then, it continued to paddle its feet in the air, whirring and clicking like an irritated insect.

“By Khors’ breath,” Father Toth said. “That’s an artifact. Mercurion work. It must be.”

“A Mercurion made this?” I moved my foot so that I was standing on the legs instead of the body. The machine immediately began to struggle, lashing its body from side to side. “Is there a way to turn it off?”

“You would have to know its command words.” The priest squatted on his heels, absently taking out a pair of tongs from his smithy’s apron. “Let me see if there’s a maker’s mark.”

I waited until the priest seized the bug around the edge of its carapace before lifting my foot. He held it up as it flailed, squinting at it as he turned it around and around. “Hmm… fascinating. And marvelous. I’ve only seen work of this quality a few times. There is no maker’s mark on it, which I suppose is to be expected for a spying device. But this craftsmanship… it’s superb.”

Suri grimaced. “You’re right: this is a Mercurion automaton. It has to be. One of those little buggers costs at least a hundred gold on the black market, too.”

“I’ve never met a Mercurion,” I said. Now that I had a good look at it, I could see that not only was the brass and silver thing tough as hell, it was a work of art. Tiny gears and levers whirled inside its abdomen. The brass was etched with elegant arcane designs. “This would be controlled by an Artificer or a Mage, right? I know next to nothing about magic.”

“Yeah, an Artificer,” Suri replied. “But look at the materials. Brass, silver, diamonds, bluecrystal mana... that shit’s expensive. Whoever commissioned this has to be rolling it gold. I take it this doesn’t belong to the Church?”

“It most certainly does not,” Toth replied. “The Temple serves the people by producing staples needed to live a good life. Ploughshares, carriage parts, rebar, construction parts. Swords and armor. We are not Artificers. If we need magic or magitech, we outsource to the Mercurions or a very few human craftsmen.”

I tapped the round disk on the machine’s back. It made a small, tinny hollow sound. “That’s a speaker. Your conversations were being listened to.”

“Given its got legs, it might not have just been listening in this room,” Suri said. “This thing could move anywhere around in the building.”

A nasty thought occurred to me then. I pointed at a big glass jar full of what looked like cut tobacco and mimed dropping the bug into it and screwing the lid closed.

“Of course, of course. Let me... Hmmm...” The priest bustled over to his desk and dumped the contents into an empty metal vase, then brought the jar back. Suri dropped the spider in, and it began to scuttle around inside. We got the lid on just as it jumped, and it hit the stopper and began to run around again.

“The other priests,” I said urgently, once I knew it was no longer recording us. “Has anyone come to you since Orban died? To like, confess their sins or whatever?”

He nodded, swallowing. “Yes, though they did not discuss any sins they may have committed. There were two men: Brother Moricz and Father Erik. They came with separate concerns. But they’re under heavy guard-”

“What did they talk about?” Suri demanded.

Father Toth hesitated. “I am oath-bound to keep their confidence.”

“Fuck. Where are they? Where can we find them?” I asked.

“Brother Moricz lives in the seminary. He’s an instructor there... Father Erik teaches young orphans how to craft, so that they might have skills after they leave the orphanage and not turn to thievery or suchlike.”

Suri set her jaw and rolled her shoulders. “Those are in opposite directions. Let’s split up.”

“I can ride Cutthroat. I’ll take Erik,” I said. “We should party up so we can-”

“I don’t ‘party up’ with anyone.” Suri shook her head, her scarlet hair flying out from her face, and headed for the door.

Quest Update: The Slayer of Taltos

There are two priests of Khors at risk of being struck down by the Slayer: a seminary tutor in the Temple District, and a crafts instructor who teaches at the orphanage near the Skyport. You must reach the orphanage, quickly!

[A new location has been marked on your map!]

Father Toth blinked in confusion. “I thought she was your fellow investigator?”

I sighed, dismissing the quest update. “Long story. Come on, Karalti.”

We jogged out of the room, but when I rounded the edge of the door, and was alarmed and confused to not see anyone outside other than guards, priests, and congregation. I grimaced. I swiped my HUD over and summoned the ‘Known Players’ list to message her. But when I bought it up, there was no ‘Suri’ listed there. The only names were the players I’d met at the Eyrie of St. Grigori: Violetta, Baldr and Lucien, who were greyed out because I’d blocked them as soon as I’d left Ilia. Two others I’d met before taking the Trial of Marantha, Nethres and Casper, were also listed and were online. But no Suri.

“Suri?” I queried her name in the database.

[No such player found.]

I felt a twinge in my gut: my intuition, warning me of something. I tried a different spelling, but got the same system message. Had she blocked me already? But no… that couldn’t be it. I’d seen her player’s corona in the High Priest’s office just a second ago.

“Ugh.” I scratched my head and sighed. “Why do I even care, Karalti?”

“You told me you wanted her on our side, but that’s gonna take longer than one day. Grumpy lady is smart and brave.” Karalti bobbed her head. “And bouncy.”

That made me chuckle, but I was still annoyed. At Suri, at myself, at the murders. I picked up my pace and stalked for the outside courtyard, whistling for Cutthroat. The hookwing appeared, and before she could give me any shit, we climbed onto her back. I pulled her around, and kicked her into a run, following the glowing marker on my mini-map. Between the quest update and the fact that the listening device had been discovered, I had a feeling our murderer was going to strike soon, and strike hard.

The orphanage was down near the Skyport: a three-story wooden manor house with an attached warehouse I assumed was a workshop or school. Both the house and warehouse had definitely seen better days. We pulled up with a screech at the front doors, and vaulted off Cutthroat’s back to the wet cobblestones. The doors were guarded by two men in the chainmail-and-plate uniform of the city guard, and they pulled their swords, scowling with suspicion.

“Halt! Who-”

“High Forgemaster Toth sent me. Father Erik is in danger,” I said, holding my hands up. “Has anyone else come in in the last thirty minutes or so?”

“What? No.” The guard on the left, an exceptionally thin man, shook his head. “Father Erik has a guard posted in his quarters. I see you work for the Volod, but…

“We’re not supposed to let in anyone with weapons due to the children being inside. Captain’s orders,” the other one said. “Hand over your steel, and you may enter.”

“The Slayer is in there!” I snarled. “I work for the Volod, and we need to get inside! Let me pass!”

“We can’t-”

Karalti stalked forward past me. She threw her head back and emitted a shrill roar, splattering droplets of flaming spittle everywhere. “Bad men! Out the way!”

Both guards jumped out of the way with cries of terror, brushing frantically at the burning spots on their armor.

“That’s my girl,” I muttered, and barged on past them.

The inside of the building reminded me of a school. Kids’ drawings covered sheets of curling, yellowed parchment on the walls and the side of the wooden staircase. I fought the urge to barrel to the top of the stairs at full speed. Instead I stealthed it, dropping to a crouch and using one hand to guide our way across the old wooden floor. Karalti dropped down as well, and we silently followed the quest icon to a room behind a pair of double doors. I listened at the keyhole. Instead of the normal sounds I’d expect of a teacher’s bedroom at this time of night throat – clearing, the rustle of paper, the scratch of a quill, chit-chat between Father Erik and his bodyguard –there was nothing except the swish of fabric, and a soft metallic clinking.

“Claws and teeth only. No fire,” I thought to Karalti, tightening my grip on the Spear. “The building’s made of wood and there’s children in the rooms below us. If you breathe fire here, you’ll kill them all.”

“Oki.” Her telepathic voice was a whisper. “On count of three?”

“Yeah. One, two...three.” On three, I kicked the door and charged in.

And then nearly stopped cold, because holy shit.

Father Erik and the guard were both dead. The guard lay on his face, a crossbow bolt protruding from his eye. Father Erik was naked, kneeling on his bed, and kept upright by an intricate net of ropes with hooks that stretched his skin out from his body. Standing over him was a tall, lean figure in a hooded cloak. His face was covered with a flat steel mask that burned with magical sigils.

Before I could even open my mouth, the Slayer of Taltos dropped what he was doing, spun in a whirl of black cloak, and dashed for the window.