Infernal Investigations

Waking up felt….weird.

I’d always slept best on my back, even with that awkward pressure on my tail, but waking up without that felt even more off.

My eyes opened. I forced down that sense of shock at seeing a tanned, weathered hand in front of me responding to the commands I was sending my own hand.

I’d essentially slumped down here and fell asleep after I’d put the finishing touches on last night. I went to the mirror to ensure I hadn’t been so eager to sleep that I’d overlooked some crucial detail.

Staring back at me, the face was perfect. Olive skin, dark brown hair, the wrinkles of someone well into middle age, and the facial structure to match.

It wasn’t perfect, of course. I’d given myself the illusion of age by forcing my skin into new patterns, creating wrinkles and lines where they shouldn’t exist yet. It would work for what I needed. Moving out of my bedroom half of the attic into my lab half, I saw the devices Dawes had promised for my leg. Attaching it, I was more than a little grateful they had actual formal stairs leading up to the attic.

I didn’t want to imagine how unbearable a ladder would have been.

I limped into the house's kitchen. Dawes and Tagashin were already eating breakfast.

Dr. Dawes looked up at me and nearly dropped his piece of toast.

“I’m guessing my efforts throughout all of yesterday worked out then?” I asked as he recovered before the toast fell towards the floor.

“If I didn’t know it was you, I don’t think I could tell the difference,” Dawes said, looking over my face as if my actual one would reveal itself if he simply stared long enough.

“I can,” Tagashin said lazily. “But I doubt the humans are going to be anywhere near as perceptive as myself.”

“Well, thank you both,” I said. “You won’t be my test, though. We have a pair coming today who will be much better suited. After testing on them, we should be ready.”

“We should send someone besides you,” Dawes said. “Your leg-”

“Will not be as much of a bother as it could,” I said. “It’s not well enough to walk on unaided, but unless the Montagues are lying, I should be able to easily avoid the patrols. Especially if Lord Montague has restricted access as much as they’ve claimed.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Tagashin noted from the table while she carefully tasted the tea before committing to a cup. “What’s talking right now are a bunch of raging hormones obsessed with a dandy.”

“Priest,” I countered, getting a raised eyebrow from the Kitsune.

“Priest of the god of parties and good times. Sorry, would playboy work better for you?”

I blinked, then looked over to Dawes.

“I don’t know what that word means either,” he admitted. “Although from context, I could make a few guesses. Tagashin is right, though. This is putting an awful lot of trust into the Montagues. I do wonder how much your mind might be influenced by-”

“It’s not,” I interrupted. “Although I suppose that is what I would say if it were. But we all do agree Lord Montague was both acting suspicious at the party and has been since then?”

Well, perhaps not as much since. According to the couple of talks I’d had with any of the trio of Montague siblings willing to help us, their father mainly had returned to normal, but their brother had yet to reappear. No screaming, no visitors.

That did not bode well.

“No doubt about it,” Tagashin said while Doctor Dawes reluctantly nodded.

“I still disagree with the idea you should be doing this on a leg that is to be frank, broken,” he said. “Ms. Harrow, it’s a miracle you’ve been able to move around as well as you have on it. If you keep on moving around on it, the damage might be permanent. You’re certain Bioosculpting can’t be used to fix it?”

“The Imp’s made it clear that any attempts to fix the leg isn’t going to end well,” I said. “Those scattered pockets of diabolism from my brute force attempt to hold it together will be processed naturally by my system. I’m partially made out of a lower-grade version, so they’ll be absorbed over time. But metaphorically touching them or near them with any other form of magic could result in more permanent damage. So, I just need to wait until I can fix it. But it might be too long for that.”

“I still dislike this,” Dawes said. “But unless Hawkins spits something up, this is our only other lead, as tenuous as it is.”

Neither I or Tagashin had gotten our interviews with Hawkins yet, but they were scheduled for tomorrow. If Malstein had managed to drag any answers out of the Shapechanger, he didn’t seem to be in the mood to share.

“We should have scheduled a time after your interviews with him to do this,” Dawes stated. “If one of you two is injured during this-”

“The risk to Tagashin is minimal, Doctor,” I said. “As for myself, infiltrating the archives even on a broken leg will be easy.”

The infiltration of the Archives should be relatively straightforward. Since we were only after a list of the titles read and not the restricted books themselves, we weren’t dealing with any serious security the two Montagues hinted at. They’d be frustratingly sparse on the details of what those were

Getting inside the administrator's offices would be the most challenging part. According to the Montagues, the staff on hand was significant, given the size of the Archives, but most of them remained active throughout the archives themselves. The offices would usually have ten people working inside them. That sounded like a large number till they’d explained that was ten people spread out among fifty different rooms.

Storage of what restricted titles had been examined was near the center of the offices, and there would be one staff member on duty at all times. It would mean dealing with them in some way, and I’d been a little miffed about mentioning that it immediately got both Montagues asking for assurance I wouldn’t kill or permanently injure whatever archivist was on duty.

I just knew the archivist was going to be a pain to take out painlessly now that I’d sworn to both I wouldn’t unnecessarily hurt him.

“I do think the little Hellspawn is right,” Tagashin said, surprising me. “And even if this little scheme just results in her having to flee these archives empty-handed, there’s nothing connecting her actual identity to it.”

Well, that was true in part. If I were pressed to the point the disguise dropped, it would be a dead giveaway. But if it didn’t, we’d put in enough effort that even my broken leg would not be noticed too much.

Dawes had called in a favor with a colleague, and underneath my floor-length skirt, I wore a metal brace that had been fitted to my leg. It did its best, but not being either a splint or a cast, each step hurt. Thankfully, we’d be traveling by carriage, so all I’d have to worry about was bumps jostling my leg. It also forced the bend in my leg forward, and hopefully, the long skirt I’d be wearing would help disguise the non-human nature of that leg.

I’d do my best to ignore the pain. Unless someone, say, kicked me in that leg, I could probably struggle through with nothing more than some observations on the awkwardness of my movements.

The prosthetic foot I’d fit my hoof into at least felt not as weird as the actual foot I’d sculpted my unbroken leg’s foot into. And the paint we’d slathered that leg in also was less irritable than the entire rest of my skin’s itching from the adjusted melanin.

“Still,” Dawes said. “Tagashin could-”

“Tagashin will be detected before she even gets to the first layer,” I said. “She’s an entirely fey creature, and that will be picked up on fast. Calibrating for creatures that are less than one hundred percent magic is difficult, and both the Montagues have confirmed bringing in elves and other races with innate magic before, so I should pass through without issue. Doctor, we’ve been over these points before.”

He nodded unhappily. “I suppose I am just overworrying a little.”

Not a little. It had occurred to me these last few days that part of the reason Tagashin seemed so bold is that the person currently supposed to restrain her seemed so lacking in decisiveness.

In all the stories released, the accounts I’d heard, the times I’d witnessed myself, Voltar was the decision maker in their partnership, the driver. Dawes was the voice of reason, only that relied on respect. The Kitsune had none for him.

So I would push. I wasn’t going to let the driving force in this be Tagashin, that was for damn sure.

“Not at all Doctor,” I said. “I just think we don’t have many options left. Anyway, since the Montagues will be arriving in an hour, can someone spare some of those eggs and bacon?”

***

After one victorious argument with Tagashin over what the proper ratio of eggs and bacon was my fair share, I waited patiently inside the front door for a knock.

I was dressed plainly in servant’s garb, complete with a bonnet cap that had gotten far too hearty of a laugh out of the Kistune. She was upstairs preparing her own disguise, having taken far too long to eat her breakfast.

The door shook once, then twice as knuckles rapped on its surface. A solid quarter foot of oak, it didn’t shift too much from the force and proved annoyingly tricky to open.

“Good evening, Lord and Lady Montague,” I said, bowing after opening the door for the both of them. “Welcome to Mr. Voltar's house. May I take your hat, coat, and shawl?”

I didn’t trust myself with curtsying, so a bow would have to do. The two traded glances before passing me both articles of clothing to hang on the rack next to me.

“Are you a new hire?” Gregory asked. “Because I’ve been to Mr. Voltar’s before, and I’ve never seen any servants?”

“Of course you haven’t,” a voice said, making the hairs on my neck stand up. “He’s got them rotating between all of these houses constantly. Voltar is a slob, and I pity the poor people he’s cleaning up after him.”

I allowed myself a small smile as I looked up the stairs. The disturbing feeling of hearing my own voice coming from someone else aside, that was a decently good impression. Perhaps this wasn’t doomed to failure after-

That moron! Tagashin walked down in a skirt far too short, almost halfway between her hooves and her knees. She traveled down the stairs on two uninjured hooves without a care in the world, not a splint, cast, or anything else as she walked down.

“Your leg’s healed?” Gregory asked as that moronic Kitsune walked down without a seeming care in the world.

“Well, it was a bit of risk with the Diabolism still inside,” she coyly said in my stolen voice. “But when I realized how much time was between your arrival and the party, I decided it was well worth the risk. Since you gave me such a nice tour of your estate, I figured I should offer you the same. Oh, just without your sister.”

My hands clenched, my stupid, frail human fingers at least not punching holes through my skin as I barely avoided emitting a sound like a steam whistle. Elise Montague raised an eyebrow as she looked between Tagashin and her brother, whose eyes widened momentarily before suddenly narrowing.

“You’re not Malvia,” Gregory said flatly.

“Of course I’m not,” Tagashin said. “Could you imagine her saying anything like that. Her head would probably explode first.”

She is not wrong.

“If it ever does happen, it’ll be some way where she swears she never saw it coming up until the act itself, and I bet-”

“That’s enough of that,” I snapped.

“Oh come on, Miss Harrow,” Tagashin said with a laugh. “I have a bet going on if I could make him or you blush first.”

“We were supposed to keep this going till we’d known for sure that the disguises worked. Although I suppose that was already ruined by you not coming down with the splint on before you started-”

“Oh please, your disguise worked perfectly,” Tagashin said, waving a hand dismissively. “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior when pretending to be you. How many times should I look like I want to murder Lord Montague?”

“I have never looked like that in front of him,” I snapped. “I have more control over my-what?”

That last word was directed at Gregory, who hadn’t held back a light chuckle at my statement.

“Sorry, but if I’m to be honest, while you never look like you want to kill father, your face does have a tendency to freeze up around him.”

My ire died as that statement put it out like a bucket of cold water. “Oh.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Elise said. “Father’s used to people staring at him in anger so much that he probably thinks you're one of the more polite people he’s met.”

Gregory looked me up and down, hopefully just out of curiosity. “So you’ve modified yourself to look human? What does it feel like?”

“Weird,” I said. “My skin itches, my legs feel wrong, I keep on trying to grab things with my tail that’s no longer there, and my head feels like someone tapped it in two different spots with a hammer. Also my teeth feel like they’ve been sanded, and a few other things besides that. Oh, and I feel a sudden loathing for Infernals and an urge to go find the nearest one and kick them in the shins.”

The two looked at me awkwardly as if not sure if a joke had been made or not, and Tagashin was stifling a giggle. I just knew it.

I just had to hope I didn’t look that smug when I was doing it.

“I’m joking. About the urge to kick Infernals,” I said. “It’s a bit awkward, but it’s fine.”

Elise looked at Tagashin, eyes narrowed.

“So if you’re Malvia, then this is-”

“Yes, I am the world’s greatest detective, Mr. Voltar,” Tagashin told her with a toothy grin.

“Empire’s greatest,” I corrected exasperatedly. “Gregory, Elise, may I introduce Rebecca Barns, who will be helping us out today by giving me an alibi and being Gregory’s date to that tea party both your father and Lady Karsin will be attending. Dr. Dawes and Mr. Voltar will not be participating.”

To my irritation, Tagashin skipped over to Gregory, wrapping her arms around his while sweetly smiling up at him as my, no her tail looped around his waist! Worse, he didn’t seem that interested in putting any distance between them or resisting at all!

“You must be Gregory,” she said in a husky tone. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“I’ll confess I haven’t heard of you,” he said. “Perhaps on the carriage ride over you could tell me some things about yourself?”

That traitor.

“You’ll have plenty of time on the way over,” Elise said diplomatically. “Uhm, a point though, you’re supposed to be wearing a splint?”

“She is,” I confirmed, gratefully to be discussing business and stop Tagashin from flirting. “Too many people saw me use diabolsim to snap my leg back into place, and the effects of magic interacting with diabolism is too well known. So since I can’t have healed it by now-”

“I must put on the splint,” Tagashin finished with a pout. “Must we put that on me?”

“I could go fetch a hammer,” I replied sweetly. “You don’t need the splint if you clearly have my injuries. I’d just need a few seconds.”

I regretted the words as soon as I saw the look on Gregory’s face and the smile on Tagashin’s.

“Just please put the splint on,” I said. “Gregory, there’s a small adjustment to the plan. Rebecca will be attempting to sneak into your father’s coach during the tea party, and will be caught before she can get there. Early enough that he can’t have her jailed on any actual charges that will hold up, but late enough it’ll seem she went to the tea party specifically to do that.”

We couldn’t just have Tagashin attend the party as me, she needed to make it look like it was part of our investigation. Lord Montague had made his opinion on Voltar clear, and I’d also received a letter making it very clear I wasn’t to go anywhere near his estate. Lady Karsin had sent something similar. This tea party, hosted by a friend of Elise’s, was about the only setting in which one of us showing up would be allowed.

I didn’t doubt that someone was keeping track of the Montague children’s movements and feeding that information to Lord Montague, Lady Karsin, or both. And that assumed they weren’t the ones doing that themselves. Gregory wasn’t the most subtle of people by my standards and he was leagues ahead of his two siblings. So they knew we were meeting. Having this tea party happen with no suspicious activity from me would just make them wonder what else was going on. And suspicion in other directions might find my infiltration of the Archives.

Lord Montague probably guessed we were looking into him. Lady Karsin, for certain knew that was the case. Either that or she really disliked shaking people’s hands.

Either way, the least we could do to tip them off, the better.

Making it out shouldn’t be difficult, and even if things went wrong, I had a plan. A risky one to be sure, hence why I was playing it closer to my chest than the other ones. But I had no intention of getting caught. After all, tomorrow, I’d be interviewing Hawkins, and I wouldn’t miss that for the world.