Infernal Investigations

The wind howled in the silence that followed, as Melissa shivered. Outside, it had started snowing again, another curtain of white coming down to blanket the city and keep the angry off the streets for a while longer.

Gregory moved towards Melissa, reaching inside his pockets. “Hold on, I have some bandages in here, or at least something to make better bandages than those rags.”

“Girl, you need to get better at finding dancing partners,” Alice said, looking Melissa over critically. “Hells’ sake, you’ve got easily half a dozen holes, and some of them ain’t small.”

Melissa didn’t seem to react to either of them, just moving further inside, hissing in pain. Her tail wrapped around the handle of my door, slamming it shut. The howl of the wind died down immediately.

“Private conversation,” Melissa said, staring blankly at the two of them. “Just between siblings.”

Gregory and Alice traded looks. Alice opened her mouth, hand clenching-

“I agree,” I said quickly before either of them could jump in and try to help anymore. “Look, I can bandage her up, and it’s my health potions we’d be putting in her, anyway.”

“I don’t need any yet,” Melissa said. “I sealed the worst ones shut. The rest stay open for now. I need the pain.”

Oh? The Imp said in my head. Interesting. She doesn’t even have someone like me to teach her. I don’t suppose we can try getting me into her head instead of hoping you kill your brother?

I gritted my teeth. I could drag some answers out of it about what that all meant later.

“Melissa, at a minimum they’re getting cleaned,” I told her. “I don’t care if you’ve made a self-discovery regarding your relation to pain, you’re not giving yourself an infection.”

Melissa opened her mouth, some kind of fire lighting behind those eyes for a second, then she shrugged. “Fair enough.”

I left for long enough to fetch a sewing kit and some alcohol, along with a few other implements. Biosculpting would be better, but I got the sense Melissa was not in a mood to be touched. Coming back, all three of them were silent; Melissa had moved to the counter but kept her distance from the other two. Gregory shook his head slightly as I came back in. She hadn’t talked anymore.

“We need to talk,” she repeated.

“My lab is secure and soundproofed,” I offered, but Melissa shook her head.

“No,” she said quickly. “Up here.”

I nodded. Not a good sign. She wanted to have this conversation where she could escape the easiest if needed. We’d need Gregory and Alice someplace where they probably couldn’t listen in, and since risking them going outside was out of the question-

“Gregory, Alice, I know it’s not the most comfortable place to spend some time,” I said. “But if you wouldn’t mind-”

“Not a problem,” Alice said, getting off my countertop. “Come on bard, let’s get down there before the fires start.”

“I’m sure there will be none of that,” Gregory said optimistically. “And don’t worry Malvia, I’m sure we’ll find some way to keep ourselves entertained.”

Wait. In my lab? This might not have been my best idea. Maybe they could survive outside in the snow?

“Biosculpting, potion, or the old-fashioned way?” I asked Melissa.

“Old-fashioned,” Melissa said. “I need to feel this.”

Blatant lie. What she needed was not the risk of me dosing her with something or messing around with her body. Both of which meant she didn’t trust me.

“Fine,” I said, popping the cork on the alcohol. “Don’t drink this, it’s not meant for that. And this will sting.”

She considered the bottle, then nodded. Probably wondering if I’d snuck anything inside that. What the hells had happened out there?

“Palm first,” I said, and she started unwrapping her hand. “Depending on how bad the damage is I do suggest you let me biosculpt you. Or that you get a healing potion. Or anything that can help with any damage beneath the skin.”

“Sure,” she said, then held the hand up in front of me.

It was a nasty wound. Someone had jammed a knife all the way through, although at least it was relatively small. They’d only managed the stab, not cutting after.

“Went to check on a few friends,” Melissa said. “Not Flame, per se, just associates.”

“Of you or the Flame?” I asked, pouring alcohol over the wound on her palm.

She grimaced, but kept her hand still. “Before my time in the Flame. Although most of them have had dealings one way or another with them. Even with us back, we hardly have as many contacts across the Quarter as we used to.”

Becoming rebels had something to do with that. Specifically becoming rebels and failing to actually achieve anything. Then dragging the fight right into the middle of the Quarter.

“Seems the Quarter is about ready to pop,” Melissa continued. “With rumours about you, Gio, and Holmsteader. And me. Gio had made it very clear if I’m seen, I’m to be reported about as soon as possible.”

I got the needle in, and she winced. After a second of pausing and a nod from her, I started sewing.

“Will any of them?” I asked as I continued sewing.

“They won’t know where I’m staying,” she said roughly. “You won’t either.”

I hesitated, then continued my sewing. “Fair enough. Rumours of devils?”

“Plenty,” she said, sneering. “Halspusians making their presence known as well. People are fearing they’ll come into the Quarter soon.”

“I doubt it,” I told her. “They’ll have their hands full soon.”

If what I suspected were true. Even if the Priestkiller being one of them didn’t become public knowledge, it being private knowledge could still hurt them quite a bit.

“Oh, and speaking of people in the Quarter, Holmsteader’s gang is on the streets in force,” Melissa said in a dull tone. “Hunting Flame members. Most everyone else is staying out of their way while they burn themselves out trying to do that. You’re doing?”

“In a manner of speaking,” I said, putting the tea down and then backing away as she stared at me, eyes empty. “I was hidden nearby when she was killed by members of the conspiracy. I wasn’t able to interfere, but I was able to investigate her room. And when she passed away, I decided to paint the sigil above her corpse.”

Melissa’s fangs ground against each other. “People died over that, Malvia.”

“People got sacrificed to those circles by diabolists under his command,” I replied while opening the sewing kit.

“You. Don’t. Know that,” she snarled.

“Daver is alive,” I reminded her. “Daver was there to help kill Mourner Kelson. Unless you believe Daver faked his death well enough Versalicci was tricked?”

It was possible. It was even probable, if you could believe the old man would ever turn on Giovanni, faking his death to avoid Versalicci’s wrath. It would also require not having spent any time longer than a few months around Daver.

Melissa laughed bitterly. “No, the old man turning is not something I would ever see. He’s broken. Which makes not a lick of sense. Daver helping them, faking his death, the diabolists pretending to turn? Making our brother look like a laughingstock? Then he sends Malachti and Mitlau to kill some of them? While helping them with their goals? Why?”

I snorted. “I’ve been thinking about it. I have my theories. Much like everything else in this entire case, some things could be true, and things that couldn’t. People inside this conspiracy are acting at cross purposes just as much as the people trying to stop them. And here I am on the outside, trying to puzzle it all out, while our half-brother continues trying to cook everyone trapped in the pot.”

“Why?” Melissa asked me.

I shrugged. “I don’t get the obsession with that question. I live here. I don’t particularly want devils rampaging through. No matter what inclinations the Flame may sometimes have to using our Infernal forbearers for muscle, even Giovanni has never been in favor of a fully opened portal to their plane of existence, current goals nothw-”

“No,” Melissa said. “Not that. Why are you so hateful towards the Flame, Malvia? Running during those final days, I understand that. I wasn’t part of the Flame then, but I saw them. Saw all of you, during the rising. Cowardly thing, but plenty of people made that choice. None of them seem to have this…grudge against it afterwards.”

“Grudge?” I said, raising an eyebrow. “I was perfectly fine living without hurting or doing anything involving the Flame at all. For years. Until I remind you, a bloodied Golvar spotted me on the street and dragged me into this whole mess all over again.”

Melissa hissed. “That was not our fault. We weren’t responsible, we were tricked, and they wanted to frame us-”

“I was there,” I said, pulling on the needle again, getting another wince out of her as I started work on closing another cut. “I’m aware of how little Versalicci was involved in that. He just did his best to play all sides against each other. Which is what I suspect he might be doing here. Have one foot in either side, ready to take the credit or at least dodge the blame. He’s very slippery like that-”

Melissa growled. “Giovanni Versalicci is one of the best Infernals I know, because he’s one of the only people trying to fix this utter hellhole! Unlike some who go begging to the Imperials for scraps or fight each other for them, he’s actually trying to change things for the better! I don’t blame you for running Malvia, but hating him over your own cowardice? Why?”

What could I say to that? To someone who had been taught the same way, potentially even deeper than I had been? How do you break that?

What could be said but one thing?

“Giovanni Versalicci is a traitor.”

Melissa stared at me a moment, expression dead, and then a giggle burbled up as her lips twitched. “The head of the Black Flame, its founder, its leader from before even you or I was born, is a traitor. What nonsense have you been coming up with since you fled to try and make the ache of running like a coward dull in your heart, Malvia?”

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“I did not run out of cowardice,” I snapped before gritting my teeth, forcing the anger away. “I am many times a coward. I’ve run from things plenty of times. Things that hurt. Things that I couldn’t hide from even with the advice of our half-brother. I have never run from what I’ve done in the Flame, Melissa.”

She snorted. “Who are you trying to fool? Imperial Hound? Taking Imperial coins in return for a comfortable life out of the gutter? As much as they’ll learn the likes of you or me out of it? It’s a nice shop, Malvia. It’s still firmly in the only part of this city they’ll ever let us live, never mind whatever fool things they’ve sold to drag more of us into their wars.”

“That doesn’t matter,” I replied, my tail laying itself to rest on the table as I forced it there. “And I doubt the Imperial Kennels are feeling favorable towards me being in there much longer.”

Melissa sneered, leaning forward, blood-smeared hands pressed against my countertop. “Oh, what a shame. The hound went out of her way to prove her worth and all her mistress does is punish her for being too eager. Is that why you’re pushing yourself so hard Malvia? Hoping you can prove how useful you are so maybe they’ll let you share the fire-”

My tail lashed out, wrapping around her throat. Her hands moved, slow, too slow, weakened by blood loss and her idiot refusal to have her pain treated. Claws cut into my tail, pain lancing up my spine as I dragged her over the counter.

A second later, black fire bloomed. Too late. She’d grown up on the street. Her instinct was still to claw, not to burn or rot. She hadn’t been taught much, and by the time that black fire lit a knife-tip was pricking her throat.

“Off,” I said, putting weight behind the point.

The flames winked out.

“Wow,” Melissa said, eyes wide, staring at the knife pricking her neck. “I guess you are a lot more flappable than what you let on-”

“What’s the plan here, Melissa?” I said icily, digging my claws into the top of my counter, wood splintering and driving into flesh as they tore into it. Damn her for dragging this mask out from me, and damn me for letting it slip on. Damn it all.

She’d gone quiet, that fire in her eyes dimming a little. She seemed to be realizing I might actually stab her if she didn’t answer.

Of course I wouldn’t, but she fully believed I would. And that hurt more than I thought it would as I breathed in.

“Tea,” I decided, pulling the knife back from her throat.

Melissa laughed even as my tail remained tightly wrapped around her neck. “Tea? Your fucking mind is completely gone. First by calling Gio a traitor, then with this nonsense.”

“Tea is not nonsense,” I said, unwrapping my tail from her neck, letting it slide off. Pain with each inch, as claw marks in my flesh bled. She’d torn a hole in my fin. I reached under the table and she tensed, fire flaring on her hands again, but they died down to a small flicker as I pulled a large bottle up.

“To your and my health,” I said, popping off the cork and taking a long swig.

It burned going down my throat. I’d used the good stuff during that clash with the Queen of Masks. This did work, but not as well, and I’d need biosculpting to fix it fully. And it tasted like acid. Better than bleeding and catching an infection, though. I didn’t trust anyone’s claws in this quarter to be really clean.

Melissa was still, eyeing the bottle as I offered it to her. She’d moved back a step since I’d released her neck, but otherwise not at all.

“Drink,” I said firmly. “Unless you think I’d drink from a poisoned bottle.”

I would under the right circumstances, and there were ways to build up a tolerance, but I was hoping she wouldn’t know about any of that.

“Am I about to get a lecture about my health as well as my words?” Melissa said drily, but did finally grab the bottle.

“Do you want one?” I said, moving to get my secondary tea kit from down below. My stove was upstairs, but I could drag this conversation up if I had to. “I want to know why you said something you knew would provoke me? Drag our conversation off the topic I brought up?”

Melissa growled. “You’re going to ignore the fact you almost fucking stabbed me, aren’t you?”

“I did,” I said, leaning in, my face only inches from hers, setting the tea kit to the side. “Because there is a kernel of truth in there. I have just sat on my ass ever since everything happened, and I’m playing the dog. But I’m not the only one ignoring something.”

Melissa glared at me, and while there was anger there, there was something else too. I’d planted the seed of the idea that our half-brother might be a traitor.

“Now,” I said. “If you want to ask me more about it, you can, but I insist on going upstairs and fixing some tea first.”

“You cannot be serious,” Melissa snapped.

“Indulge me,” I said to her. “Worst case, you can simply not drink if you’re that worried about me drugging you. Best case, you can actually get some sustenance in you.”

“Or I walk out this door right now and stop listening to a madwoman coward,” Melissa said, moving away from the countertop.

Could I deny either of those? “You could. But I’m willing to elaborate. Do you trust him that much to just walk out of here?”

Seconds ticked by. Melissa’s glare deepened, the anger behind it rising. Then with an exasperated noise, she made for the stairs.

***

I couldn’t say this was the most hostile conditions under which I’d made tea, but it was close as I brewed, humming to myself.

At my table, Melissa glared daggers at me.

“You done entertaining yourself?” she growled.

“Yes,” I said, as the tea finished. “No cup for you?”

“None,” she said, still glaring daggers. “You promised you’d talk. Talk.”

I didn’t drink first. I was already trying her patience too much, probably. Instead I sat down, pouring while I did what she asked.

“The day I knew Versalicci was a traitor was a few weeks before Voltar started unraveling the threads leading to our discover,” I told Melissa. “We made a game of trying to sneak up on him, me and two of your half-siblings. They died before you could meet them.”

“Laura and Dylan,” Melissa said, the fire in her eyes dying a little. “There’s a memorial to them, at the Street Beneath.”

I nodded. “Anyway, we never succeeded. I’d found a novel alchemist formula I wanted to try and well, overheard our brother promising to reveal our existence and the full extent of our operations in return for money and a bolthole.”

“To the Imperials?” Melissa said, voice grim.

I finished pouring, took a sip of the tea, let the warmth suffuse me. “Truth be told, I can’t be sure at all.”

Melissa’s tail slapped the table, my pot and saucer vibrating as wood creaked.

“That’s all you have?” Melissa asked. “You claim to have overheard him promising we would rise early and get destroyed because of it?”

“Why did we rise when we did Melissa?” I asked her, taking a sip of my tea while she looked at me incredulously. “I’m sure you’ve heard enough of the story to get the gist, even if you weren’t there at the time. Why did we rise?”

“Because we got found out?” She asked disbelievingly. “Voltar’s investigation of a robbery at a warehouse led to discovering the Watch Captain willing to sell us weapons, which led to us being discovered. There wasn’t a choice after that point.”

I drained my cup, met her gaze levelly. “Misinformed, or like so many of us, too caught up in his web. Of course there was a choice, Melissa. In what world would the first choice be a gang taking on a nation?”

“A revolution-” Melissa started, and I slammed my teacup down.

“I’ve been gracious enough to accept you cutting up my own mistakes and flaws,” I snapped. “But Melissa, don’t be a blind idiot. The height of the Black Flame’s power was at that moment and it was insignificant compared to the actual forces of the Empire! How the hells were we going to grow larger?”

“There are other people with grudges against the Empire,” Melissa said sharply.

“So there are,” I said, setting my cup down. “Tell me, have Versalicci’s policies regarding them changed from when I was part of the Flame? Because back in my day, we just slit their throat for intruding in our territory.”

“Thieves and competition,” Melissa said. “When they come in to take away our business, hells yes. But we maintain those connections out of it!”

“He maintains a tenuous understanding at best with groups outside the Quarter,” I replied. “Nothing really more than that. Business relationships. Negotiations. The knowledge that if it got nasty between him and another gang it wouldn’t end well for them.”

My hands curled around the teacup. How many of those had I been involved in? Not just inside but outside the quarter. Handling his competition for him. Killing. For a caused he never believed in.

“And even then it doesn’t always work out, does it? Otherwise I wouldn’t have had to offer a gun pointed at my face to get some local toughs to let me and Versalicci just talk by the dockside, now would I? What actual alliances has he ever made Melissa? What officials has he turned to our side except without copious amounts of bribes? Helld, why the fuck didn’t any of that money go to improving the Quarter? We invested some, but never as much that went into…what, making an army that couldn’t beat the actual army? Summoning devils? What was the plan, Melissa? Because he never gave us one besides getting more of any of those.”

“I…” she tried to say something, faltered. “You don’t know he doesn’t have one. Maybe he does. Like you said, all sides against the-”

“We’re one of the sides in that,” I said harshly. “Me. Alice. Arsene. Tolman. Everyone who died in that ‘rebellion’, us and everyone in the quarter. The only reason it lasted as long as it did was most of the army being busy with the dwarves. And none of us questioned it, of course.”

Melissa tried to say something, only to choke on whatever word it was.

“People don’t live to an old age here,” I said. “And it’s a hateful, bitter place. And then he did his best to discredit or kill any opposing viewpoints and painted it as a struggle for resources. Which, credit to him, it was. It was harder times back then.”

And after a while, what was one more body on the pyre? One more person executed in the street? One more throat bitten out, one more body cut open and used as fodder for devils, after I’d already done it with friends.

“At first. I think I should have questioned the need to fight over expanding territory to pre-emptively protect ourselves the moment I learned we summoned devils in our base. But I should have known earlier of course. I just didn’t want to.”

As mother had gotten sick. Even before then, I’d wanted, now, I’d needed, pathetically, approval after the family before then had delivered a final answer on if I was worthy of theres.

“I imagine more people guessed he wasn’t who he appeared to be. I probably killed some of them. And so the only people were those too afraid to speak and those fully bought into what he said.”

I took another sip of my tea, slowly letting the warmth try to dissolve the bitterness lodged in my throat.

“I could be wrong,” I admitted. “Or lying. Maybe I misheard whatever he said. But what was the end goal of the Flame that was actually achievable? Think on it.”

“And you think no one ever thought of that before?” Melissa asked sarcastically.

“I’m sure some did,” I replied. “I think they suspected he was in over his head. Or it was all rhetoric behind a more ambitious than usual crime boss. Not that he put all the effort into building it just to tear it down.”

I set my cup down, hands trembling a little.

“You think I wanted to believe it, Melissa?” I said to here, my tail snaking up onto the table. “That it was all lies? I dedicated my life to the cause. For some years, all I had was the damn cause to keep me going. I killed for him. I damned myself for him. I let him stick an imp in my brain and a mask over my heart and did whatever he asked because I believed. And you say I was just a coward? That I’m just chasing after another warm fire? Melissa, if I wanted an easy life, I would have stopped doing any of it before even my first trip to my coffin when I got introduced to how they handle diabolist prisoners. Or do you think I enjoy having my fingers cut off?”

Hurriedly, I took another sip of tea.

“Of course, you and him might be right, and I might be wrong. Or lying. Or a coward.”

Melissa just stared at me, that fire in her eyes guttering and surging, but eventually it came back.

“And if you’re right?” Melissa hissed. “If you and the others who deserted were right, you just fucking hid and left him alive. Left him to spread his poison again. And all of you have fucking hid rather then try and do anything.”

“I hid,” I said. “Arsene, Tolman, and Alice had no knowledge of Giovanni Versalicci being a traitor, so don’t blame them for doing nothing.”

“And you?” Melissa demanded. “What about you, Malvia? Where were you when Versalicci came back, if he was such a threat? Or even before? Where were you? Hiding under a rock, hoping if you went unnoticed you could live some semblance of a normal life?”

“I…” I stalled, trying to think of an answer. I hadn’t known he’d survived at first, and by the time he’d resurfaced, he still had several of his old followers and-

No. No, I hadn’t done anything. And trying to pretend anything mitigated that would be nothing. Nothing but fuel to burn.

“Have you even tried to find out why?” Melissa said. “If you are telling the truth, did you ever look? What have you done, Malvia? For the Quarter? For other Infernals? To stop him? Did you even tell anyone else before me?”

My silence was the only answer either of us needed.

“I think,” Melissa said. “That we are done here.”

I opened my mouth, trying to think of what I could say to keep her from heading back out there, then closed it. There was nothing I could that wouldn’t poison things later.

Melissa didn’t want a conversation further fragmenting her world view. She wanted confirmation that the first thing that felt like more than the struggle for survival in this place was real. And I wasn’t able to offer it. Instead, I’d just gone even further at tearing it apart.

I couldn’t refute the accusations she made, nor did I have anything concrete for my side of the story. The only thing I did have is that Versalicci had made such a mess of his.

I couldn’t expect catharsis. My own response had been to abandon responsibility and sanity in favor of hiding to varying degrees for years after. The fact she was actually confronting it, even in her own way, was better than I had ever been.

“Yes,” I choked out, then tried to recompose myself. “I think we are. I’d offer a cup again, but I think you might want to smash it when you finish it.”

“Projection,” she said harshly, smirking.

No, more like remembering a time when I’d wanted to do the same. I’d never gone through with it of course.

“I need time,” Melissa said gruffly, getting up from the chair. Her tail thrashed, nearly throwing it off its legs. “Just. Time. Away from all of this.”

She made for the door, her movements a mess, everything on a hair-trigger as her hand missed the handle.

She breathed in, recomposed herself, turned to face me, expression calmed down some. “I don’t know if you’re telling the truth, but even if you are? He isn’t fully wrong. You aren’t fully right.”

I opened my mouth, not even sure what I was going to say, but forced whatever it was back down, just inclining my head a little.

“Melissa,” I called out as she stumbled for the stairs. “If you want this to be the last time we talk or see each other, fine. But don’t do anything rash? Please?”

She turned around, then laughed, mocking but with a hysterical edge just underneath.

“You’re one to talk about being careful,” she said. “But fine. Goodbye, Malvia.”

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