Wanted Dead

It took me nearly a minute to scramble out of the bed, yanking my feet free of the weakened binding spells and stumbling over the similarly panicked Mittens. She fell, I fell onto her, I tried to get up, slammed my head into the door, cursed, and finally got it open.

By then it was too late.

Jill was sitting on the floor, rolling back and forth as she tried to push off a pot that was stuck on her head. The door was left open, and a few feathers were strewn about the room, which had gone from cluttered to downright catastrophic.

I grabbed onto the pot and yanked it off of Jill's head. It slipped from my hand, nearly beaming Mittens across the temple. She, however, happened to be suddenly standing in a different place than where there was now new cracked drywall (or perhaps a new opportunity for a painting placement! I'm trying to be positive here.)

What was muffled cursing was now out loud cursing as Jill used every goblish word she could think of to shout and insult Serene, and all harpies in general. I caught maybe one out of every five words, a lot of them were ones Jill had not taught me yet.

"Jill!" I grabbed her shoulders, stopping her shouting and bouncing, "What happened!"

"That ka'aka nata oa ne-" She began another tirade in goblish before she stared at me straight on.

I noticed that the open door let in quite a breeze, mostly because I was still nude.

She crossed her arms, and turned her eyes to Mittens, who was also naked aside from her hat.

"You two have fun?" She asked, glaring.

"What happened?" I repeated.

"That harpy bitch woke up and tackled me! She nearly gouged my eyes out with her talons, and scrambled to the door, and got out." She waved her stubby arms as the anger overtook her again, "This job's shot! I'm done! I got beat over the head with a pot while some witch fucked my fiancée! I want my pay! I want to leave!"

"No." Mittens said.

The declarative was so absolute, so utterly flat, that Jill seemed to freeze over like a deer in head lanterns.

I was expecting her to break out into rage again, but it was like she had been completely shut off by Mittens, so I asked, "What do you mean, 'no'?"

"Ah." Mittens said. The gears in her head were turning, I could only assume she was dumbing whatever she was going to say down a few octaves, and that this was something she had to do quite often. "The necklace that is wearing you-"

"Wearing me?"

She paused and stared at me, the gears once again turning.

"Sorry, continue."

"The necklace that is wearing you has the Ruby of Ashkatort. You can think of it as a focus for the powers of an infernal devil from The Pit. This power is focused and enhanced through passion."

"Like... Sex?" I asked.

"And Pain. And Sorrow. Any extreme would do. Sex was the easiest way to provoke a reaction."

I didn't feel used. Nor did I believe her totally flat explanation of what she did. I saw her face when she came, after all. I didn't want to press that, though.

"Kay. Whatever." Jill said, surprisingly content to put the dubiously consensual infidelity issue to the side, "Take it off 'im and pay us."

"I can't." Mittens said. After a pause, in an act of total inspiration, a completely amazing feat, she somehow managed to figure out that an explanation would be required. That we were, in fact, not aware of her immense lore mastery over stupid demon shit. "It is now bound to Callum as a host. It cannot be removed without his death or through a holy ritual.."

"So that's what the sacrifice was for. That cult was going to kill the harpy, supercharge the ruby, and... I dunno, use it for evil crap?"

Mittens shrugged, "I only knew where the stone was, not what they were using it for. I assumed it would be in a case or a jewelry box. Unless you trigger it with a particular amount of pain or pleasure, it would be inert."

"Alright. Well. I don't want to wear this thing forever-"

"It won't be forever." Mittens said.

"Uh...?"

"It'll kill you in the morning on its own." Mittens elaborated.

I stared blankly at her.

"You are a host, not a user. It is Infernal magic, after all. It isn't pleasant." She continued, "Unless it is removed, it will simply kill you painfully to finish its charging."

"Couldn't he just go to the brothel on the corner of-"

"Sex is not nearly as powerful as pain to fill it with energy and allow it to release him. It would take days of sex, and he'd likely die of exhaustion long before he finished."

"Fuck." I said. I replayed a few parts of that conversation, trying to put together... I dunno, Plan D? Plan J? I'd lost track of how many shifts in direction I've had to make in the last hour. "By the saints." I pinched the bridge of my nose, "We need that harpy."

"She very likely could ordain the necklace and release you from its grip. She is no proper priestess with prayers of magic, but any holy person could remove it with an adequate ceremony. I know a Shian or two at the temple, they could-"

"No." Jill and I said at the same time. "Listen, you didn't hire us for being... law abiding, in our asset relocation work, right?"

"No, I hired you because you are thieves, and I needed someone to steal this ruby for me."

"Right." I said, not feeling the will nor the want to argue terminology, "Well, last time I was in town... uh... well, I know a few shians that might recognize me in there."

"Ahh." Mittens nodded, "And the harpy was not one of them, that is lucky for you."

"Yeah. Lucky. Now we gotta find da chick!" Jill said, "So she can do some prayer crap and get this stupid necklace off Callum!"

I considered the possibilities. She could have definitely gone to the temple, that was certain, but that would be a death sentence no matter which way you looked at it. There was another option, a more hopeful option, probably the only option I might be able to work a plan around. "Where's the nearest watch house...?"

Mittens, somehow, had shoes in my size. She had quite a large box of shoes, most of them unpaired, and one shoe happily fit. Mismatched clothing aside, I was back in my jacket and ready for the next part of this job. A new goal was in my mind, one that had crossed it more than once in my illicit career.

Don't die.

Easy enough.

Jill and I were a few steps from her porch when the door clicked behind us, and Mittens appeared once more. Her fine black dress once again draped over her body, her boots firm, her stockings hiked, and the witch hat pointed perfectly up.

Her bag was rattling with bottles and jars, and was stuffed with other objects too. She walked right between us and down the sidewalk. It was a few paces before she turned.

"Are we going?"

"You're coming with us?" I asked.

"Yes?" She looked at me as though I shared an IQ with a particularly bright stump. I noticed now, though, that she seemed to always have that expression, yet it was as neutral and plain as any face. Not resting-bitch-face, perhaps... resting-witch-face?

I didn't care to argue, and walked behind her. Better to have a guide, anyway. The sidewalks were a bit slippery and very beaten up, and the lack of any distinct light source aside from the general glow of the city and the half moon made it worse for navigation. Still, I managed to keep up with the two girls.

“So.” Jill started.

“Mmm.” I responded.

She seemed to chew on a sentence for a while, “You fucked that witch.”

“Mittens didn’t seem too keen on my opinion on whether I was going to fuck her or not. It was for testing the necklace anyway.”

“Didn’t hear ya askin’ fah help… or sayin’ no… heard a lot of purring and gruntin’. Das what I heard…” She muttered, side-eying me. There was something there, some hint of mischief. At the time, however, I didn’t catch it. I could only feel my legs turning to jelly.

“Well-“ I started, then after a pause, continued, “Are you mad at me?”

“Yeah! Y’left me in a damn shack while you fucked some cat bitch!” She snapped, losing the mischief in a moment.

“I’m-“

“I mean, I was bored as hell!” She continued, “N’ den da birdy bashed me on da head wid a damn pot!”

“Well, I’m sorry about that! I would’ve gotten out faster, but she tied me up! Listen, it won’t happen again.”

“Huh?”

“It just sort of happened.” I got out, “I won’t do it again.”

“Well yeah, y’better not leave me in da livin’ room while you go off havin’ fun widout me!”

“What?”

“Huh?”

I tried to puzzle out what she was saying, my eyes tracing the conversation as though connecting dots on the back of a kid’s meal menu.

“Ugh! Is dis some damn humie ding? Do y’think I’m pissed cuz ya fucked some witch?”

“… Yes?”

“I don’t give a damn ‘bout dat!”

“Wait, has this relationship been open this whole time!?” I gawped at her and shook my head, “I didn’t know that!”

“Well. I mean. For you it has! It’s traditional!”

“What?!”

“Goblins do not practice monogamy as rule, since they breed in orgy pits.”

I nearly fucking screamed. Mittens’ sudden interruption broke me free of the conversation. She was somehow now standing directly between me and Jill, without seeming to shift into that position in any way I could have detected.

“But, it is a classical Setwards Goblin tradition, in March and those regions at least, that the chieftain or chieftess of any goblin tribe may take a few women or men to be personal romantic partners. It’s often polyamorous.”

“Very new age.” I muttered.

“It’s quite old, actually.” Mittens responded.

“What, am I goblin chieftain now?” I turned back to Jill.

Jill grinned so wide that her eyes were forced to squint, sharp shiny teeth shown off in as sinister a smile could be. “Do you wanna be~?”

“Oi! Did’ya hear what I said?! Yer money or yer life!”

“Hang on.” I said, raising my hand to the mugger who had, at some point in the last thirty seconds, come out and sprung a knife on me. The scruffy man was a little taller than me, but much skinnier, with a potbelly and ragged clothes. His knife looked like cheap crap, too.

I was about to come up with the next part of this goblin heritage conversation with my fiancee, when two of my braincells finally connected and I realized I was being mugged. I turned to look at the man and my hand flew to my side to where my dagger had been hilted.

Earlier that night. Before I lost it back at the manor.

“Uh. Listen pal, I don’t-“ I started, but then got a better look at the man. He was now shivering, staring straight ahead, directly at Mittens, who had her back to me.

“A-Auntie! I didn’t- I didn’t realize, it- it’s dark, y’see, and I didn’t realize it- that it was-“

I didn’t see Mittens’ face, I only saw its impact. The way the man’s face went paler and paler, blood draining, how it drooped, how he started to hunch and freeze up and wince and sweat all at once.

“I’m sorry!” He yelped. He was down the alley in a snap. The speed at which he ran away left his knife spinning in the air for a few seconds before clanging onto the ground.

Mittens turned to me, and I only barely resisted the urge to cover my face. Her gaze, however, was as it had been all that night. She didn’t say anything, and continued walking.

I forgot the conversation momentarily, and I grabbed the knife as we continued up the sidewalk.

In hindsight, if I end up not dying from falling off a temple, I really need to figure out what perverted shit Jill was talking about…

Uh, where was I?… Right. The Watch house.

The Watch House was at one of the further ends of the Craft's Ward. On each side it was hugged by workshops and small-time apartments. It was a stout kind of building, with a single door facing the street.

Standing on the opposite side of the street, we stared at the still warm lights of the overnight station. It wasn't exactly buzzing with activity.

I began to consider a plan.

"Do the guards know you too, Mittens?"

"Yes." Mittens nodded, "Sargent Temperant will be on desk duty today, I delivered his daughter, and I make a foot ointment for his mother."

"Perfect!” I clapped, “Alright... Jill, you okay being on watch?"

"On watch for what?" Jill squinted.

"Anything that might screw up my plan.” I shrugged.

"What? D’ya want me to do an owl call or somethin’ if a buncha cops show up all at once?"

"We don't have owls in Burrowsmouth," Mittens stated, "We have seagulls. Try a seagull."

"Okay. So, if a wanderin’ gang of cultists show up, ya want me tah steal ya sandwich and shit all over da place?"

"Exactly.” Mittens nodded.

"Just make a loud noise!" I said, in utter exasperation. After I rubbed my eyes, working a bit of latent sleep from them, I pulled myself together. “I just need ten minutes… and, uh, Mittens' bag. If you don’t mind.”

Now, I won't give away my secret. I have a pretty damn good 'raving' drunk routine. It's all about the way you walk, the slight tang in your voice... and obviously, the smell, which I got from a few antiseptics that Mittens had in her medicine bag.

With alcohol on my breath, and a burn in my throat that I still haven't gotten over, I swayed into the watchhouse.

The man at the desk wore the usual uniform, but without any of the usual body armor you'd associate with coppers. His badge was nice and shiny, sparkling with polish. His face showed wear and tear like any who'd spend their years taking down orks in tavern brawls, with a nose that had been broken back and forth enough that any angle was an option.

He had a thick mustache, which nearly covered his mouth.

Temperant spoke with a soft marchish accent. "Ye lost, laddie?"

"No, shir..." I said as I stumbled forward and leaned forward on the desk, "I'd like... to report a crime..."

"Oh yeah, and wha's that then." His brow furrowed as his mustache twitched at the smell of alcohol.

"I'd..." And this was the big moment. It's hard to do without shoving your fingers down your throat, and I hadn't eaten since that afternoon. But with enough practice, vomiting on cue isn't impossible! It did not help the burn.

"Ugh..." The cop yanked back, pulling some papers away, but the mess was quickly spreading. I then collapsed. First onto the desk, and then comfortably onto the wooden floor. They didn't even notice how I caught myself before splaying out.

"Another drunk. Rufus, grab 'is feet. He can pay for my damn pen in the mornin'."

I felt myself get lifted by the hands and feet.

"What a lightweight," was said by who I assume was Rufus. He had furry hands, maybe a lycan or something, and a much deeper voice than the whistley tones of Temperant.

"Y'ever see a necklace like that, Rufus?"

"Looks cheap." Rufus commented.

"Smells like the bastard's been downing the moonshine they make a few blocks from 'ere. By Aude and her Saints, now I've gotta clean the whole damn desk off, third time this week. We oughta bust those lads on distilling without a license."

"Where the hell would we get our beer then?" Rufus finished as he tossed me into the cell and slammed the metal door.

I made a loud thumping sound as I hit the stone floor and managed to suppress the groan as a fiery shot of pain once again came through my chest. I was reminded about the teetering point my life was on, and wondered just how painful the death this thing would inflict on me if I were to last until morning without any redemption.

I tried not to wonder, obviously, but the brain is always a treacherous organ.

"Y'doin alright, sister?" Asked Temperant, "Don't mind the drunk, we're just leavin' him to sleep it off till the mornin'. If he bother's ya, just shout, yeah?"

"Of course, Sargent Temperant. Thank you." Came a familiar voice, yet this time it wasn't squawking or yelling or calling me a profligate, so I was a bit surprised I recognized Serene at all.

"Good! The lads from the main house should be here in a few, can't be more than twenny minutes! Then we'll get your testimony and see what we can do to help." His piping voice was so cheerful, "Need anything?"

"No, Sargent." Serene said, "Thank you."

"Just shout f'r anything, lass! Soups on in ten." He finished off, before heading upstairs.

I counted under my breath, but it was pointless to do so. Mittens was very loud when she entered, almost suspiciously so. She shouted to the sergeant and made sure to announce aloud the various ointments she had prepared for his mother, and for his intestinal issue, which is when she was finally quieted by frantic stammering from Temperant.

I stood at a start, and tried the cell door. It was locked.

The guards certainly could've patted me down, but I was confident they wouldn't. Not after my special technique. I adjusted my dagger out of my pants and into the sheathe at my side, and let my tools slip from up my sleeve and, without much difficulty even backwards, made myself a doorway to freedom.

I whispered, "Serene!"

There was a certain perking up, a ruffling of feathers.

After mumbling a bit, I said, "Alright Weather in the Serene... Seasons?"

"Adequate Climates Upon The Arrival Of Serene Seasons." She said, as though it were a programmed response.

The cell block was a kind of small cellar with a lantern in it. There were four cells, each with their own doors. There were bars with doors on them, obviously, the kind of sliding door you'd expect. But between the cells were brick walls, so she hadn't seen me yet. The first mistake I made was opening my door, walking around, and revealing myself.

"There you are!" I smiled.

"You!?" She started to breathe in.

"Wait wait wait wait!" I shook my hands, "I'm not gonna hurt you! Just shh shsh! I saved your life!" I pointed, fast talking my way to victory, "Despite anything else, I saved your life! Shh shush!"

She breathed out.

She wasn't nude anymore.

The harpy now had cloaked herself in a large heavy blanket, covering her entire body and shielding her from the chill that my jacket was only barely keeping out. Somehow, she was wearing a mask. It was a plain white one, with a hidden visor, creating a very Aude-like visage for its wearer.

Shians are named for their masks, they worship the Goddess Aude and thus match her fashion sense. The Shia Masks are, by tradition, pearly white. Beyond that, though, it was surprisingly customizable! I've seen shians with alternate colors of masks, I distinctly remember one wearing a shia made of obsidian. It didn't look comfortable, though. But this mask was classic shian, no visible eye holes and no mouth hole either. Despite this, it wasn't muffled when she spoke.

"What do you want, Callum?" She spat my name, reminding me again of my mistake in telling it to her.

I decided that, since honesty had already gotten me here, I wouldn't lie further. No real point in it.

"The reason I snuck into that rich bastard's house was to steal that necklace you were wearing. This one." I grabbed the ruby, then released it with a hiss, "The one they were going to sacrifice you to power up with... demon magic."

A good thing (or bad, in my case) about the shia masks was how they didn't reveal expression. Serene may have looked disgusted, angry, or pitiful, and I had no way to tell. I could only pick up on her vocal cues, and she didn't... sound angry, yet.

"I thank you for rescuing me, but it is slightly overshadowed by the subsequent kidnapping."

"Well, at least I didn't try to sacrifice you." I leaned forward, grabbing onto the bars. It'd be easy to open it, another unlocked cell, but I decided not to risk her screaming just yet. "Where'd you get the mask?"

She harrumphed at the change of topic, "Corporal Rufus' wife happens to be a shian as well. She keeps a mask here just in case."

I looked away for a moment, "Shians can get married?"

"Where are you from, exactly?" Serene accused.

"I don't think that's relevant!" I happily rode past that line of questioning and turned back to her. "Listen, I didn't mean to kidnap you-"

"Oh, accidental kidnappings are pretty common for you, knocking me unconscious and dragging me to the middle of the craft wards, parading my nude body to the whole city!"

"Hey, hey, hey! We didn't parade you through town! We took you through the sewers-"

"You did what!?" Her feathers ruffled as she rose suddenly.

"SHH!" I motioned downwards again, "We got you somewhere safe. That's what really matters, doesn't it?"

"Safe?"

"A witch's cottage!" I shrugged.

"What?... Oh! That was Auntie Mittens' cottage, wasn't it?"

"Does she know everyone in town?" I asked, incredulous. In hindsight, I don't think I could've been more correct.

"I know of her." Serene commented. She tilted her head to listen, "Is she here?"

"Distracting the guards while I talk to you." I nodded to the stairwell. There wasn't much to hear from upstairs.

"Why are you even here!? I was happy that this night was almost over!" She sat back down on the cell's bench before rambling on the edge of a panic attack, "I just want to talk to the Captain and give my statement so they can arrest those filthy cultists, and go back to the temple and not ever leave ever again by Aude's mercy."

"Well... the truth is... I need your help." I slumped against the barred door.

"Do you?" Again, I couldn't read her expression, but she was staring at me, most definitely.

"That necklace they put you in was some kind of... demon artifact, or something. What it was supposed to do was get a bunch of magical power from your death when they sacrificed you-"

"Thank you for reminding me." She snapped.

"Well, it's stuck on me now!" I pulled down my collar to show off the thing, stuck to my skin. "I got stabbed by that damn Demon Priest, and the necklace thought I was the one on the chopping block. If I don't get it off by dawn, it's gonna take my sacrifice into its own hands."

She stood again and approached, leaning down to look at the gem. "It radiates unholiness, certainly. I can taste it..."

"You know magic?"

"No." Serene admitted, "But as a Sister, I am trained to read the energies of places and objects, to feel when a space is desecrated. I remember how it felt when they put it on me, besides." She adjusted her hold on the blanket that was hiding her body.

"Well, that doesn't matter." I brushed it away, "Mittens said that anyone who can manage a holy rite can get it off of me."

"The powers of the Pit are as nothing compared to the will of Aude. While a demon may be physically strong, any curse or possession is but clay in the hands of a Sister or Mother." She agreed.

"Yes, and you're so powerful and great and I don't want to die. I saved your life, all I'm asking is that you help me out... please."

She stared at me for a bit too long, something was going on in that head of hers, and she was very ready to let me hear it.

"You kidnapped me."

"Not intentionally, and I didn't intend to do anything! I was just gonna drop you off at the temple when-"

"How much were you getting paid to break into that manor."

"Ahah... what'd'ya mean?" I pulled back, spreading my hands.

"You're seriously trying to treat me like I'm some kind of idiot who can't put two and two together!?" She snapped, "You are a thief and you were there to steal something. I expect it was that necklace... for Mittens?"

I sulked a bit at this and nodded, "Well... yeah."

"Better in her hands than many. You will donate three fourths of your payment to the temple."

"Huh!?" I felt a chill rush my blood, beating back that supernatural demonic heat.

"You kidnapped me, dragged me through the sewer, and dumped me on a coffee table in the middle of the Craft's Ward. I had to fly, nude, to a watch house. You saved my life, and for that I am grateful, but as payment for my services, and apology for the trauma you inflicted upon me, you will pay a large portion of your fee from Mittens to the Church. I will even allow her to keep the necklace, much as I think it should be destroyed by the Grandmother..."

She was talking like she was making more than enough sacrifices, like she was the one getting the bad end of the deal. I wasn't even getting paid cash! And if I were, I reckon it'd more than I'd ever donated to a damn temple before. Usually I stuck to a ha'penny, since it made a nice clang when it hit the offerings plate.

But... I was going to die in about eight hours. That sort of thing makes you adjust your perspective on physical wealth, and... hey, Aude wasn't a bad lady when all was said and done, might as well buff up my piety if she was gonna help me crack this thing anyway. And again, it wasn't cash anyway... and Serene didn't need to know that detail, right?

I leaned forward and put my head to the bars. "Alright, I'll do it, and-"

"Squawk! Squawk! Woo woo!" Following that were a series of other poorly made bird calls. Then there was a clattering of trash cans, as though a goblin who had been running down an alley tripped and fell into a bunch of trash cans.

"Did… someone say my name?" Serene asked, looking from left to right.

The next noise was even more distressing, the whir of a spell rocked the upper floor.