Feargus

After leaving the garrison, I identified and climbed through the Captain's window at The Three Drinks, switched out his keys, and returned the pumpkin merchant's set—leaving them so it looked like they'd fallen between some empty crates. Then I brought the blackmail to Delaterre as instructed. Following that, I was getting pretty tired and hungry. So I went back to the church, watched Strauss sleep while I snacked on some nuts, and made myself a bed in the corner with the cloak. For once, he was sleeping heavily under the influence of those herbs. Me, on the other hand? I was exhausted but not sleepy. But being quiet and alone meant I had time for a think.

What was even more unnerving than the idea someone had been following me, was that I had no idea I was being followed. Not a clue—not even a niggling, as Rhian would say. It wouldn't have been the first time I was followed, and you get a sense for that kind of thing. Even more unnerving than that, is that whoever was following me, seemed to be helping me—or at the very least wanted me to think they were helping me. But at the same time, it seemed they were threatening me. It was a new and interesting situation.

But what could I do?

There was almost no way someone had been tailing me without my knowing unless they were a Strachan with better training, a Celestian gone invisible, or one of the Anima, I reckoned. But if they were the helpful sort, like Alexander, why not introduce themselves?

And wait, were they in the room with us at the minute?

I stood and whirled around with my arms outstretched. It sounds ridiculous, and frankly, it is. But Celestian Partisans still maintained form when gone invisible, things you learn when it's your job to hunt defected ones. So, if they were in the room, I might eventually bump into them, and they wouldn't be able to leave without my noticing.

When I didn't find anything, I glanced up toward the rafters and thought about doing the rounds up there, too, but I'm not gonna lie this time: I was feeling a fair bit resigned. If it were one of the Anima stalking me, they'd be as fast as I am, if not faster. It'd be like fighting a rainbow of defects in one. I wasn't even sure what I'd do with that. I'd have gone to chat with Alexander about it, but I knew he'd gone home after our meet—

—boy, was I suddenly ever tired. My eyelids became heavy and my makeshift bed began to feel really, really comfortable.

And as I was drifting off, I heard it. No, more like, I felt it coming from somewhere inside my own self. It was unmistakable, see. A sad, sad violin playing a sad, sad song. The melody wrapped me in the blanket I didn't have, and though there was ache, there was also peace, and it was the best sleep I'd ever had.

♪ Like him, like him. Sleep tight, my fox. ♪

The next morning, we used some of the portrait fund to arrange a wagon to Istok. There was a part of me that wanted to see how things went at the Captain's speech, but there wasn't enough time to make that happen. Strauss was in good spirits as far as Strauss's spirit goes. He'd slept well, too, I guess, and he was eager to get going. But ultimately, I didn't need to see the fallout. As we were working our way out of the city, we heard the screams. Sorry for the trauma, everyone in the audience. Also, we all know Marat Kavelin becomes Captain in Jaska, so—aye, mission accomplished. I'd cash in that hair ruffle later.

It was three days on the road, and we stopped to make camp a few times along the way. Strauss hadn't left out anything interesting about that time. But on the third evening, we were closing in on Istok when the accident happened. It's true, we never did find out for absolute certain what spooked the horses into running straight off a cliff, but—

♪ No, it wasn't me. Not there, but was Lidia? ♪

—after the tumble Strauss took from the wagon, he needed time to recover before we made the final stretch to Istok on foot. I know he told you I cried over the losses, and I'm not ashamed. Horses are magnificent creatures folk have taken advantage of for centuries, and the least we owed them was the promise of care and safety, and we failed those steeds. I wasn't a religious fellow by any means, but there were a few takeaways from Stracha's tenets, and revering horses was all right by me.

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I wiped my nose on my sleeve, and Strauss brought me a hot mug of water, no herbs. He sat beside me on a felled log near the fire, and though he didn't say much, it was nice having him there. I saw more clearly what he did, then, for Rhian.

It was hard not to crack. To fess up to everything and apologize for not comforting him when I knew he needed it most.

"Would you like me to make you some oats?" he asked.

Still sniffling, I shook my head. "Thanks, mate."

Strauss looked like he wanted to say something, but he stopped himself.

It was getting a bit chillier in Amalia with autumn approaching, and that was probably the thing I liked the least about the territory. Which, considering everything, is saying a lot. Stracha was always at least a wee bit warm, and Rhian and I tended to work in Delphia where there were no seasons other than hot and sweaty.

"Have you put any more thought into what we might be looking for in Istok?" Strauss wondered.

I hadn't, because there wasn't actually anything in Istok for us to find, and I had no intention of keeping us there for long. "I'm not all too caught up on my Amali lore. No mention of the place in connection to the Vonsinfonies in the fables you've read?"

Strauss shook his head. "No, only Leberecht."

I nodded thoughtfully. "Pity we can't go there."

At this point, I'd seen what I needed to see in this leg of the race, and I wasn't interested in carrying on that part of the ruse anymore. The second he uttered the word Leberecht, he'd won the riddle.

Time to change the subject. I blew on my hot water.

"Rhian tells me you've been working on your surprise reflexes. How's that going, mate?"

"Well, I was startled by Father Belaia—just before Faust gave me the key, actually—and I accidentally froze a puddle of water. He slipped on the patch of ice. The man's close to eighty."

I winced. "That sounds unfortunate all around."

Strauss nodded. "If I could find a way to absorb the surprise inwardly instead of reacting outwardly—I don't know, Finlay. I'd prefer if I didn't have to worry about it all. These powers are wasted with me."

"Why? Because you've been condemned to church?"

Strauss nodded again. "And if it wasn't to church, it would have been to solitaire."

"But just think, mate, if you got your powers under control, you could…"

He looked to me expectantly.

"…heat up your own tea. Boil your own water for your oats. In fact, you could conjure your own water for your oats."

Strauss tilted his head. "I suppose."

His reluctance to work on his Celestian abilities was an obstacle, and it was something that needed addressing. Not only because Councilwoman Faust asked me to, but because it'd be good for him as a person.

After a moment, Strauss spoke up again. "If you're not opposed to the idea of travelling at night, I think I'm ready to get going."

I didn't love the idea of travelling at night, but it wasn't as though we were in any less danger sitting around. For all I knew, there was an auditorium of Anima perched in the trees waiting to strike. And if they did, I hoped they'd startle Strauss badly enough to set them all on fire.

Also, aye—that's what a group of Anima are called.

I asked Zack one time.

We made it to Istok without incident. On the way, Strauss told me a horror story about a house where, every few decades, a family was murdered in cold blood by the father figure. The house would then burn down, and be rebuilt, and the same thing happened over and over again. Eventually, families stopped moving in, but the house continued to spontaneously combust every so often, and each time, it'd be rebuilt. That was the sort of thing I was talking about, mates, when I said Amalia was rumoured to be a place of nightmares.

We all know now that turned out to be Alexander's house. Though he never murdered anybody in it—that was always Lidia—he was the arsonist, and the contractor.

That night, we agreed to stay away.

The Bountiful Blessing was this adorable little inn that used to be a brothel back in Alexander's day. It was where he'd met his late wife, Isabella. Four hundred or so years and he never remarried. He'd had flings, and affairs, and some incredibly intricate sexual arrangements over the years, but not love. Until Evelyn Green—Rhian's mum. But, to this day, he still swears they never crossed any lines.

The owner of the Bountiful Blessing was nice—at least the lady part of the couple was. She's the one who helped me make arrangements for Strauss's wagon. In the middle of the night, I switched his ratty old bag with my special one. He had to look presentable, and I needed more hobo gear.

I also left this very letter on his nightstand:

Good morning, Strauss!

I've attached the permissions you'll need to get into Leberecht. That's where you'll need to go next. I suppose I could have told you that from the start, but that would have been boring. I had a lot more fun with the riddle. ☺ I can't go with you, but I hear it's a nice place. The folks at the church will be expecting you in a friendly way.

Yours truly,

Feargus Alistair Finlay

P.S. Try smiling once in a while. But not too often. It might look suspicious.

All, right so: when I said I couldn't go with him, I wasn't lying per se, but I was absolutely lying. I couldn't go to Leberecht with him, but I was definitely going to Leberecht with him.

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