RFC-Mini Arc: The Temple-Part 12 (Patreon)
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I ignore her, hopping the fence and dashing through the camp. I’m not the only one on the move, the other breakers scattering through the night. It’s a little risky but I transform anyway.
My control over my nose isn’t as subtle as my ears. I can’t help making it bulkier to achieve the delicate sense of smell I need for tracking. A very noticeable detail that will cause many awkward questions if seen. I’m still at the stage of “grafting” parts of creatures together, as Geneva calls it. It’s takes mind-numbing math to alter my sense of smell to the level of a wolf without it showing.
I have to rely on the dark for now. Stopping by the river, I crouch and inhale deeply. Thankfully, absorbing creatures give me an instinctive understanding of their bodies. Otherwise, the influx of scents would be too much to parse through.
I’m sure his scent is mixed in the mess I’m picking up but I didn’t hold him down and sniff him before. The only thing that jumps out at me is a bitter smell that doesn’t match the surrounding grass or the smells coming from the camp. Bitter means medicine, doesn’t it? I feel as if I’m making leaps but it’s the best lead I have.
It briefly disappears at the water and there’s no trace of it along the bank. Taking a step back, I leap over the creek, sniffing loudly as I search for the scent again. I find it quickly and begin to run.
Ah, ah. He’s making it easy by sticking to the road. I understand. It’s faster. Not to mention, he isn’t expecting someone to be on his trail so soon.
I follow the smell to a road station. A duty manager is seated behind the long wooden counter. He jerks to attention as I enter. I take a deep breath while I’m still covered by the gloom of the doorway before reversing my transformation and stepping inside.
No one else is here. A faint bitterness is wafting from his direction. Is that him? I didn’t get a good look at his face but the figure is about right.
“You’re—” He catches himself before he can finish, lips pressing together firmly. Did you realize that if you recognize me, I’m going to ask you where from? And there goes your disguise.
Makes me feel better seeing someone else just as terrible at scheming as me.
“Hey.” I sidle up to the counter and lean against it. “Ha, give me a minute. Practically sprinted all the way here.”
“…did something happen?” he asks with features that fail to remain stoic.
“Ah, it was a mess. I stuck around to watch one of the breakers do their thing, which was weird enough, but then the monster goes crazy! Rips off its collar and charges right through the gate!”
One thing I learned from my debacle with the prince. People make mistakes when things don’t go according to plan. I almost fainted from the shock when Marcus Ferraro turned my plot against me. He almost shat himself when the prince went off the rails. Few people can think on their feet when things start sliding downhill.
If I want him to show his face, the best way is to make him believe I already know everything. I don’t have nearly enough evidence to do that so the next best thing is to make him believe everything’s gone straight to the Abyss.
“It was crazy! The monster broke through the Ring and started attacking people. For some reason, the crazy people didn’t want to kill it.”
He pales. “Is anyone…hurt? Badly?”
“Yeah.” I duck my head. “A few of them. Well, they weren’t getting up. I took off while a mender was working on a girl. There was a hole in her chest. It fucking skewered her! Blood was everywhere…saints, I feel sick just thinking about it!”
I suddenly raise my head, making him flinch. “They were saying crazy things. Like, the monster wasn’t normal. That someone had done something to it to make it go berserk. But that’s insane, isn’t it? Who would do something like that?”
“M-maybe they didn’t want to hurt anyone,” he says weakly. “It could have been an accident.”
“Accident? The Temple is sure it was deliberate and I agree. No one accidentally brings and releases poison or whatever did that. No, this is cold-blooded murder. They’ll find the guy and hang him for this. If he’s lucky.”
“Wha—no! No!” He stumbles backward, cradling his head once his back hits the wall. “It wasn’t murder!”
“What do you mean!? People are dead! Someone’s got to pay for that! Ah, forget it.” I push off the counter. “Why am I wasting time with you? I was going to inform someone about this. We have to find this bastard before he slips away.”
“Wait, wait!” My arm is grabbed before I can take a single step. “Just…wait a minute.”
“We don’t have time for this.”
“I need a moment.” His grip on my arms tightens as he gives me a pathetic look mixed with a heavy dose of panic. “What if it really was an accident? They can’t blame m—whoever it was if they didn’t intend to hurt anybody, right?”
“Ha! I can’t wait to see the idiot who tries to use that as an excuse. Whoever it is better hope they can run over water as there’s nowhere in the kingdom they can escape. I mean, murder in the Hall is sure to piss off Dunwayne. Could have been a saints damned hero with the audacity it takes to pick a fight with him.”
I take a step away from the counter only to be yanked back. Panic has completely taken over. Poor fool. Tears are gathering at the corners of his eyes and his body is shaking. He’s one piece of bad news away from falling apart.
“Y-you have to listen to me,” he says quickly. “You have to believe me because it’s the truth. I’m not lying.”
“What’s the matter with you?” Time to deal that last blow. I widen my eyes a fraction and lean over the counter quickly, making him flinch backwards. I furrow my brows. “Wait…aren’t you the tender from earlier? My replacement? I didn’t recognize you without your hat, haha. Why are you…”
With a burst of strength, I backpedal away from him. “You were there. And then you ran off. Did you—”
“No! It wasn’t me!” he shouts frantically.
“I don’t believe you! Saints, you’re a madman. Someone has to be crazy to do what you did!”
“No! Wait! Please!”
I move to the door and he practically throws himself over the counter to stop me, almost falling flat on his face. He manages to stay on his feet, raising his hands towards me palms up. Like I’m a scared animal that’ll disappear with one wrong step.
“Listen, please.” I wonder why he’s so desperate to convince me. I thought he might attack me and I could have a good excuse to beat the truth out of him. Instead, he looks determined to win me over. As if some random initiate can solve his problems.
“I’m…just a tender. We’re errand boys. We don’t think. We’re hardly even people. We just do what we’re told, a pair of hands.” His breaths pick up as he spits out the words rapidly. From his pocket, he pulls out a small leather bag. “I did what I was told. I didn’t know what the stuff would do. I didn’t know anyone would be hurt!”
“…someone had to know,” I say, softening my voice. “Do you know whatever’s in that bag is? Let me tell you, there can’t be many things that affect monsters and you just happen to be carrying something that makes them go berserk while being sent to help at the Ring? No. Someone knew. Someone planned this. And they have to pay.”
He follows me down the mental dark alley, eyes brightening with hope. “It was him!” he shouts, eager to throw someone else in front of the monster’s jaws. “He gave that stuff to me, told me I’m supposed to dump it around the Ring. Said it was supposed to keep them from damaging the fence too bad.”
“Who? Who told you that?”
His lips press into a deep frown, clearly reluctant to name his superior.
I step forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. Ah, well. An interrogator will get the rest from him. “If that’s true…you’ll be alright. If you really didn’t know what was going to happen.”
“I didn’t!”
“They’ll believe you. Come with me. We can talk to someone. Get this sorted out. Come on.”
I guide him toward the door, his weak and shivering body offering no resistance. Until we reach the doorway. As we cross the threshold, the shoulder beneath my hand tenses.