The Partisan Chronicles [Dystopia | Supernatural | Mystery]

[The Second One] 19 - The Goddess-be-damned Corpse-looking Pain in the Arse


Rhian

There weren't many places in Jaska to have a decent lunch. There was the Three Drinks tavern, the Jaskar, the brothel if that's your fancy, and the Silver Spoon soup bar. Reckoned I could use a stiff cup of soup at the minute, so when Everleigh Gloom suggested it, I said, "Take me to the bar, Creepy Lass," and she said, "All right."

Inside, there were two bars, actually. One near the front of the room and the other at the back. Looked just like a tavern, really. Had your servers, barhands, round tables and stools in a zigzag pattern. Instead of grey like the rest of Jaska, it was warm and woodsy and whatnot. Captain Kavelin's office had nothing on that place. It all smelled so bloody good.

I eyed around the room. It was busy but nobody seemed to mind we were there. They carried on yakking. I carried on peering. I spotted a table toward the back, different than the rest. Instead of brown, it was black. The chairs were black. There was a bell on the surface, and the rose inside the vase was the darkest shade of red I'd ever seen.

Near the minute we walked in, the door lass intercepted us.

She offered up a curtsy toward my creepy host. "Mistress Gloom."

"Table," Everleigh said.

"Of course," the door lass gestured widely before she escorting Mistress Gloom to one of the regular brown tables.

Just messing with you.

We sat at the creepy table, obviously.

The door lass was replaced with a serving lass.

"Will you need a moment to look at the menu?" she asked us both.

"Erm—" it wasn't like I could read it, anyhow.

Across the creepy table, Everleigh tap, tapped her bell. "I'll ring when we're ready."

The serving lass curtsied and stepped away to do whatever.

The nice thing about the creepy chairs was they were sized for a Strachan—which isn't miniature or what have you, but a fair bit shorter than the average Amali.

"You've got this whole bloody place under your thumb, haven't you?" I asked.

"Aye, so?"

"Aye, so? Where do I start?"

"You could start by being grateful." The lass spoke in monotone, tricky to say where her head was at. But behind those dark purple circles, her glittery grey eyes ratted her out. Told a story of a playful lass. "You're about to have the best soup you've ever tasted. I think."

"You think?"

"Well, I can't taste, so."

"So, I guess that means you can't tell me what's good?"

"The pumpkin."

Pumpkin soup? Why not.

The funny thing about the Silver Spoon soup bar was, as far as I could see, there weren't any spoons. Everyone drank their soup from a tankard. Everleigh gave her bell a little shake, and when the serving lass came over, she ordered for me. Pumpkin soup and a water. The water came first, and the Creepy Lass cupped her hands around the glass, turning the whole thing frosty. That first sip was glorious, felt it dripping down my insides.

"Right, appreciate that," I said.

The Creepy Lass shrugged.

I was itching to get down to business, sort out who Everleigh Gloom wanted me to find, and why, and try to garner some clues as to where she was keeping my mates. But I didn't figure it'd be long afore the soup arrived, and getting interrupted is annoying. So, for a few minutes, we both just sat. Once lunch was served, I thanked the serving lass.

"It's nice to see you've made a friend, Mistress Gloom," she said.

The Creepy Lass, generally paler than Strauss's bottom, turned bright red. She shooed the server away and watched while I took a sip of my pumpkin brew. And when I say watched, I mean she made a big show of it. Held her mouth open the whole time and smacked her lips when I swallowed. Either she had a brilliant imagination, or she was feeling what I was feeling. The soup was delicious, and I was feeling pretty good about that.

"Right," I said, somewhere around the third sip, "who am I looking for?"

"My father."

"You sure about that, lass? I found mine recently and it was underwhelming."

Everleigh Gloom giggle-snorted. "Not my birth father."

"All right…"

"I want you to find my rebirth father."

"So, what, the man who made you?"

Everleigh Gloom nodded her messy, silvery head. She kept her voice low. "Sebastian Vonsinfonie."

"Wait—how old are you?"

"Fifty-one."

"Just… fifty-one?"

"Aye, what's wrong with fifty-one?"

I slurped my soup. Everleigh stared.

"Nothing wrong with fifty-one, but Sebastian Vonsinfonie died around a million years ago. That's the whole reason there's no puffy-pantsed lutist in the corner entertaining us while you watch me eat."

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Another giggle-snort. "Sebastian Vonsinfonie isn't dead. I'd know if he were dead."

I could relate to that. "All right, so let's suppose for a tick he's not—how do you reckon I'm better equipped to find him than you are?"

"You found Zacharias, didn't you?"

What could I say? "That was purely by accident."

"I mean, was it?"

That debate was desperate to go nowhere slow, so, "All right, afore I agree to help you—why'd you attack the estate?" I asked. "Why'd you set Oskari on fire? And furthermore, why'd you kidnap my mates? Leverage?"

"I didn't do any of those things."

"Lass, I watched you take Gus."

"But you say kidnap like it's a bad thing. I didn't attack the estate. The estate was being attacked. And no, I didn't set Oskari on fire. Why would I do that? I don't like fire."

Given the burn scars on her face, I reckoned it could have gone either way.

"Explain," I said.

"Sip," Everleigh answered.

I sipped my soup, but only because it was delicious.

"You have no idea how much danger you lot are in. You destroyed the homes of dozens of Anima, and so many of their friends, and Lidia Roska. She was a celebrity in the community. And you woke up Zacharias. He's a meddler. Nobody likes a meddler."

I took a sip from the sweaty glass, wiping my hand on my pants afterward.

"So—no," Ever continued. "I didn't attack the estate. I was watching the estate when it was attacked. I took your friend because he'd probably be dead by now if I didn't. I took Abby Blaze because she'd never agree to come with me, not if it meant leaving you again. And I—"

"Why wouldn't you just say, 'Hey, you lot sure are in danger, be careful and whatnot'?"

"Because Sebastian says I shouldn't do anything unless I do it with flair. And because I'm not all there," the Creepy Lass said, tapping at her temple. "Obviously."

Many folk liked to say a piece of chaos lived in every Strachan, and I reckoned Everleigh Gloom was a prime example of what happened when you mixed a wee bit of chaos with loads of power and whatever the fuck else she had going on. I should have been raging, but so long as the others were safe, it was a bit funny.

Not like I was above staging kidnappings for good reasons.

"Why didn't you take me, too?"

"Because you're Alexander's charge."

"What do you care about what's Alexander's? You destroyed his atrium," I said.

"Aye, but he redecorates every five years or so. It's due."

Fair point. The little weirdo was growing on me.

"All right, so: Sebastian Vonsinfonie. What's he look like? I saw a painting once, but he had on this ridiculous mask. Alls I know he's fair."

"I could show you," Ever suggested.

"Nope. Not letting you in my head, Creepy Lass. Bad enough you're feeling my feelings and getting off on my eating soup. But look," I said, reading into my bag for the Murder Book and a shitty pencil. "Describe him to me, I'm handy at drawing people."

The lass curled her hand around my tankard, warming up the soup some. After watching me drink down the rest, she leaned back and began describing a man out of a sculptor's wet dream. Strong jaw, but not too strong. Angled cheekbones. Cleft chin. If it weren't for the nose being plain sized and shaped, I'd have thought she was describing Strauss. Last she saw him, he kept his hair shorter, parted to the side and styled in a swirl. I knew already his hair was white—not silver like Ever's but white—whiter than mine. Once I'd finished sketching, I showed the portrait to the Creepy Lass for approval. She nodded.

"Not bad, Angry Lass," she said. "Almost spot on."

I took a minute to examine what I'd drawn.

"Bloody hell," I said. "Are you sure?"

"Uh huh."

And that there's the moment I learned Vincent Delestade was actually Sebastian Vonsinfonie.

Imagine that. Reckon I ought to have been surprised, but it'd take a lot more than that to surprise me those days. Besides, it was all making sense now. The man was powerful, a cut above the rest. All the dramatics, and the jewel-toned suits, and the hair whiter than snow.

But never mind. I told Ever I'd help.

Sebastian Vonsinfonie still owed me a favour, apparently, and I was already looking for him, anyhow.

By the time we'd finished up at the Silver Spoon, I'd convinced Ever that in order to find Sebastian, I needed my mates. They all brought special skills, I said, and I couldn't do anything without them. I don't know if it was my natural-born charisma, or if it was something about the idea of camaraderie that tugged on the friendless little weirdo's heartstrings, but whatever. It worked. We took off, top speed from the outskirts of Jaska.

It was nice having someone to go running with, even if she was probably dangerous.

When we arrived at the old schoolhouse-slash-tavern, the conversation went a lot like:

"You brought them here?"

"Aye."

"To the Anima's former base of operations?"

"Aye."

"Are you mental?"

"I already told you I am, so." The Creepy Lass shrugged. "But actually, this was the safest place I could think of. The Anima have relocated, and there's no way they'd think you lot would be moving in any time soon."

"Relocated where?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Obviously."

"Well, we're not there yet in our relationship, Angry Lass. I still have my own arse to look out for. And I'm not saying I'm playing both sides, but I'm playing both sides."

The hell do you even say to that? Credit where it's due, lass was candid.

The schoolhouse-slash-tavern had been largely burnt down during mine and Michael's fight with the Creepy Barman, so there wasn't much to see inside. We passed the hole in the floor Michael punched through, the hole in the floor Michael fell through, and from backstage, we made our way down a set of rickety steps.

"Just down this way," Ever said.

But I reckoned it was strange I couldn't hear anybody talking. Could have been sleeping, I supposed, but then again, the whole thing could have been a trap.

When we got to the bottom of the stairs, there was a collapsed corridor and a silver cage big enough to fit a few comfortably. The door was ajar, and the open lock was hanging from the latch.

I side-glanced Ever.

She side-glanced me.

"Explain," I said.

"I don't know. There's enough silver in here to tame an ancient. It just isn't possible. Not even the Celestian could have done anything. Someone had to have let them out."

"Wait, what? Which Celestian?"

"…Andrei."

"You kidnapped Strauss, too?"

"I guess."

"And now they're all missing?"

"I guess…"

"This is bad," I said.

"Aye."

"Really bad."

"Aye."

"And it's all your fault."

"I guess…"

"You're doing a lot of guessing, so, guess what?"

"What?"

"You're gonna help me find them."

Goddess-be-damned corpse-looking pain in the arse daughter-of-a-thespian.

I couldn't even kill her if I wanted.

And I definitely wanted.

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