"Ye have a lot of nerve treating me like this!"

We drag him kicking and screaming through town until we finally cross the church's double doors. Thomas relieves me and helps Gilbert drag the merchant down the church’s center aisle, leaving a muddy trail from his kicking boots.

The man groans out another slur. His breath reeks of intoxicants.

“Creche bastards. I’m not a Fiend!”

It isn’t the first time we’ve dealt with people such as this during town sweeps. Drunken men, desperate mothers, panicked children; we’ve seen it all. However, one village dissenter is better than a whole town’s worth. At least we are not in the middle of a riot.

And at least, at this point, the church has been cleared from most people as they’ve already been examined and sent home.

“Rollin’ in towns to murder the lot of us all ye will!”

Mr. Barnes stands up from behind the altar with his thin hands wrung out.

“A-apologies Mr. Cromley. Please, you must be examined.”

The liquidator’s eyes are glossy and his mouth foams as he speaks.

“Apologies? Where were the apologies ye lots marched into Tiennes? I’s seen it, yer no better than beasts-"

I cut off his sentence.

“Stop resisting so that we can do our job, Mr. Cromley.”

But he gives no sign of concession. The large man clumsily swings his elbows, trying to break free, and would’ve toppled over had it not been for Thomas and Gilbert at his elbows. Again, this isn't anything new. Most town sweeps go by peacefully with the exception of one or two belligerents.

“Yer examinations? Or witchcraftery? Not on me, I says. Child killers! Devil rogues!”

Devil rogues is a new one and my eyebrows lift at that. It's time to give him the standard warning:

"If you do not stop, Mr. Cromley, we will have to resort to other means.”

Thomas and Gilbert pull the liquidator closer to the altar and Alan. He lowers his examination goggles over his eyes and holds up his hands to begin the examination, but once he’s within arm’s length the liquidator inhales loudly with a sharp hacking sound.

I turn my head to Alan and catch sight of gray-green spittle flying toward him. The mucus slaps onto Alan’s goggles.

I’m stunned.

“Alan!”

Alan maintains an admirably calm demeanor as he pulls out a white handkerchief and wipes the spit off before it reaches his cheek. His face doesn’t grimace or frown.

“I’m fine. Please keep him still.”

“Spreading Cerna’s curse like the plague! Don’t ye dare try to deny it! Ye all murderous bastards no better than the shit in my-”

The liquidator needed to be towed back into line.

I tense up my leg and swiftly kick Mr. Cromley in the liver. I could feel his fatty flesh ripple from the impact.

“Augh!”

Mr. Cromley crumples onto the cold church floor expelling a bit of bile from his mouth. My kicks are effective, this I know from the countless years of sparring required at the Creche. I pin a foot at the back of his legs to keep him from kneeling back up and grasp the liquidator’s oily hair. He spits out more curses from between his thick lips.

“Imperial bitch! Demon whore!”

Too many times have I seen my covey brothers, most of all Alan, subjected to mistreatment by the public. Too many times have we dealt with ignorant fools without the slightest sense of Fiends and their danger. It wasn’t the time. And with drunks, unfortunately, only few actions would come across their alcohol-hazed brains.

I hiss through gritted teeth.

“Assault any of my covey again and I will not hesitate to break your legs.”

My eyes narrow and I tighten my grip. His skin stretches taut against the tips of my gauntlet fingers; talons which threaten to pierce straight into his flesh. The liquidator yelps like an injured dog.

“Understood, Mr. Cromley? Or do I need to make myself more clear?”

He whimpers concession. I jerk him back up, fingers still gripping his hair, to a kneeling position. The liquidator finally softens and I signal for Alan to step forward.

A faint light glows from underneath Alan’s goggles as he approaches. The iridescence of his lens brightens as if Alan’s eyes were brimming with starlight. A low ringing hum vibrates from Alan’s bare fingertips as he places them onto the liquidator’s alcohol-flushed cheeks.

Mr. Cromley's eyes are nearly out of their sockets as they stare directly into Alan’s goggles. A power enthralls Mr. Cromley into a frozen daze. The mayor, visibly distraught, climbs over the altar to reach out to Mr. Cromley. I grab his arm back to restrain him.

“What is he doing?”

“A simple trance.”

The humming grows louder. The liquidator moans and a streak of drool slithers out of a corner of his mouth.

“What?”

“A drunkard is troublesome in more ways than one. Alan’s working through his muddled mind.”

But soon the hum recedes and Alan drops his hands from the liquidator’s face. A soft mumble leaves Alan’s lips.

"He’s...clear…”

Thomas immediately moves to catch Alan’s wavering body.

“Simple trance? Your Arius nearly fainted! How can I trust you didn’t hurt him?”

Thomas throws a sharp glare at Mr. Barnes. Alan eventually recovers his footing and removes his goggles. Thomas growls at the mayor.

“Did you offer any other solution with the liquidator, mayor? Tell me! This town’s done noth-”

Alan places his hand on Thomas’ forearm to stop him from saying any more. The mayor huffs at himself and clenches his fists. He hurriedly collects the items on his table and stuffs it into his large knapsack. We silently watch him gather his writing instruments.

“Satisfied with the results, then? You've seen it yourself that there are no Fiends in this town. The Creche’s business here is done.”

“It is not. We are not done with our investigation.”

Mr. Barnes freezes while slipping a quill into his bag. I see the shift in Barnes' eyes, the mental calculations he must have been running in his mind. We are in charge and he knew it.

And even if he didn't, Creche Children were soldiers in truth. We could always use brute strength to get our job done.

“You are bound by Imperial law to assist us until the case has concluded.”

His demeanor softens and his eyes message concession. He grumbles.

“What more do you need?”

I motion to Mr. Cromley’s unconscious body.

“Firstly, where shall we take the liquidator?”

Mr. Barnes buries his forehead into one of his palms.

“My home would be fine.”

“And what about our night provisions?”

It could mean anything from a drafty barn to a luxury stateroom. By law, all towns hosting Creche Children were required to provide shelter during their investigations.

The mayor frowns and rubs his temples.

“I have arranged for you to take supper at the inn and rest at my guest house. It is not far from here.”

He looks up at Gilbert, the tallest, largest, and strongest of us all.

“It would be most efficient if your Eastern Creche brother returns to my home with Mr. Cromley, while I guide you to the guest house.”

Gilbert leans on one leg to help support the larger man, positioning himself to hoist the liquidator over his shoulders.

I trade glances with my covey brothers. My suspicions against the mayor are now at an all time high. He means to split us up. I can’t leave Mr. Barnes alone, I must go with him. Gilbert’s situation is less dangerous with an unconscious Mr. Cromley and Alan’s abilities are weakened from today’s examinations. Gilbert could bring down a mob based on physique alone.

Thomas, on the other hand, would need someone to guard him if his skills were to be used to its full potential. His ability for making the right hair-trigger calls also will help if anything were to go amiss with Mr. Barnes. Though I trust Alan and Gilbert overall, Thomas was consistent and performed well under pressure.

“Gilbert, Alan, take Mr. Cromley back to the mayor’s home. I’ll accompany Thomas to the guest house. Meet us back at the inn for supper."

Gilbert affirms my command with a nod. Both he and Alan heave up the liquidator and carry him out of the building.

I meet eyes with the mayor and gesture my hand towards the exit of the church.

“Mr. Barnes, if you would please.”

The mayor nods absently and smoothes over his bald head with his free hand, leading us out back to the village streets with the glow of his hand lantern lighting the way. I follow him with my eyes focused on his back, now narrowing my suspicions onto him.