Episode 8

It seemed that every interaction I had with the strange little God Touched made it harder and harder to entertain the thought of leaving the House. Beth had not been pleased with the aftermath of our encounter with Six’s patron, to the point where she had placed Ylls on what she called “pest watching” duty. Scheming up excuses to steal a moment in the infirmary with Six gave me my first look at the little brownie, with its strange flat, fuzzy face and orb-like eyes. There was something strangely reminiscent of Tall in the little being, which sat in the corner eyeing my disapprovingly as I brought food, and fluffed pillows and helped Beth with reapplying bandages over recently reopened wounds. Ylls’ fingers seemed to have too many segments, long and spindle-like. 

However, the moments I could gain access to the infirmary for long enough to talk were few and very far between. Time seemed to drag, but still I was hesitant to go home. 

“You look bored.”

I jerked so suddenly in surprise that I almost dropped the book I had been trying - and failing - to read. I’d been lost in thought in the little library that was nestled at one end of the bottom floor of the House.

“What?”

Luminous, curiously round eyes stared at me in the semi-dark. He was so quiet and so still that I swore I could have looked right through him and never even realised he was there. He had that queer stillness that I had come to associate with older vampires, an ability to just not move that living things could never have mastered. Alistair was the sort of old-world vampire that had given up on playing human centuries ago. He did not even attempt to mimic breathing, or blinking, or any of those other frivolous human functions the rest of us were blighted with. 

He was beautiful, and I could see why some ancient vampire had decided to share their blood curse with him. His lips quirked. 

“You look bored.” Alistair repeated from where he was curled around the back of a chair in the corner. “Allow me to assist in alleviating that.”

Suspicious. I wondered for a moment exactly how he planned to do just that. I’d had very little contact with the vampire since coming to the house. He kept himself to himself. 

Alistair straightened to his full height. He was tall, taller than most humans, with features typical of the Ribbibans. 

“Six and I need to go out. As you know, she is still injured and she fears me having to fend for myself if things go...awry.”

Somehow I thought the vampire would have been just fine. It was hard to tell just how old he was, it always was once vampires got past a certain age and the last shreds of humanity fell away. But no vampire got to be that age without knowing how to survive a scrap or two. Still, I could understand why he might seek out an offsider with Six in tow. It was obvious he cared for her, and somehow I doubted the little woman would keep herself out of trouble if push suddenly came to shove. She just did not seem the type to sit idly by. 

It might be interesting to see just what it was they got up to, on these little late night adventures. I thumbed my place in my book, and set it aside. A smile crawled across Alistair’s face. His skin was such a rich, darkly golden colour that it was difficult to see him move in the dim light. 

“Lead on then.”

It did not take long to prepare for our little outing. The hardest bit was springing our third party from “prison”, and suffering Ylls’ disapproving, no-lipped frown. But soon we were away free. It was still oppressively hot as we stepped out the front door of the House, and I hoped we wouldn’t have to go far. I could already feel the sweat gathering in the small of my back and between my shoulders. 

There was a spring to Six’s step that was encouraging to see, even if she did limp noticeably when we approached a brisk walk. I’d asked, as we left, where we were going. Six had grinned at me.

“To see a man about a dog.”

Alistair was no more helpful, his round face smooth and unreadable as he kept careful pace with the small woman to avoid rushing her. It was not until we reached the pub that either of them became any more forthcoming. 

We were on the opposite side of Aquis to where my own establishment was located. I knew, in a vague sort of way, that there were more than one such watering holes in town, but I never thought I’d be standing in front of another. This place differed starkly from the Blue Mare. There was no sign boldly proclaiming its name, just a few queer scratches in the wood to the side of a faded green door that resembled no language I was familiar with. The garden was overgrown, and stretched onto the path from both sides, and there were no windows to speak of. 

This was what I thought of as the bad side of town. Not many normalfolk lived here, unless they had precious few alternatives. Even the Witchfinders tended to give it a wide berth, unless they intended to descend on the block of sad little houses en masse. 

“This is-?”

Neither answered me for a moment, as we stood in the shadow of the building in the deepening dark. Then Six’s lips twisted, and she sniffed from where she stood tucked slightly behind Alistair. 

“Vampires. Orcus has a nasty little pet getting round that needs neutering.”

Her voice was low and rough, and she rubbed absently at one of the now-uncovered healing stitches on her forearm with enough force that her knuckles whitened. It was an odd habit, one of the only things I had seen her do actively in times of stress. It made me think of that cavernous voice, the unseen deity who had accused her of causing herself harm.

Something about the way that Alistair stepped forward, half shielding the small woman as we walked up to the door of the pub, reminded me of the Riddibans I had seen many contracts, and many lifetimes, ago. He would not have looked out of place atop one of the plains warriors’ little hairy horses. He was a weapon, given flesh. I doubt that it had been something that came with his blood curse. Chances were, he had always been a warrior, even if the Riddibans were far more civilised these days.    

It did not take my eyes long to adjust to the gloom inside the bar, though I could see Six blinking owlishly just ahead of me. There was no music here and no ambience to speak of. Just a few solitary souls hunched behind the bar, or lounging in dark corners. The room smelled stale, and I doubted the place had been aired out in many moons. One or two heads swung towards us as we entered, though they paid us little mind. 

However, one fellow was very interested in us, and to look at him, not at all pleased. He was tall, with half-lidded eyes and an impressive collection of tattoos. He looked for all the world like a large cat, watching something tasty approach with the casual disinterest of a top tier predator. The focus of his interest was the smallest member of our party. Alistair was making a valiant attempt to stay one step ahead of her, but Six did an impressive job of slithering past him for someone with only-human abilities. The tall vampire tipped his chin toward to look down at her, as she came to a stop barely outside of grabbing distance, hands on hips. 

“Do you have an appointment, little one?” The voice matched the rest of him, a deep earthy rumble. 

“Have I ever needed one before?”

The vampire managed to shrug using just his face. Six smiled up at him, sweet as sugar. Muttering, the burly guard moved, one hand pushing open the door behind him. 

While the front of the bar may have left a lot to be desired in terms of decor, the back of the building certainly did not disappoint. The room was lavishly appointed, and full of more casually lounging vampires doing their very best to look wholly unimpressed with everything around them. Trailing behind Six and Alistair as the little woman marched through throngs of gaudily dressed undead, I could not help but hear the whispers that followed us. 

It was like the room held its breath. Someone to my left muttered the words “little death” into their cup, and everywhere I looked I could see eyes following us. Following her.

Of course. It never occurred to me that if I found the scent of the little God Touched enticing, so too would more predatory Others. She would have smelled better than any of the normal fare these vampires were used to. The way Alistair ghosted her every step, shoulders rigidly set, made me suspect that he too realised this. Of the three of us, he was the most visibly uncomfortable. I could not blame him. 

A vampire sat at the head of a vast table, sipping something dark from a delicate glass. It was towards him that Six made a beeline. As she approached, he smiled, rolling his wine glass between his fingers. Impressively, he could smile without showing fangs, a trick I’d only ever seen old vampires pull. Not many young ones could manage it and some, like Alistair who no longer bothered with playing human, did not care. 

“Orcus."