Of course it was the Kettle. One of the Quarter's old slums, before our battles had emptied it out.

Our cart trudged forward, going between a pair of warehouses still bearing scars of a battle long since lost. Chunks missing out of both from cannon fire, dozens of smaller holes from volleys of musket fire. Giant spears of earth extending from the ground, smashed through the outer wall. Their bases had massive depressions from the earth drawn to form them. The corpses were gone, but the other warehouse still bore scorch marks from the massive fireball that had ate the barricade between them.

Of that, nothing remained. What few pieces of timber had survived had long since rotted away.

Close to all the district was like this, skeletal remnants of a battle, only a few of the buildings intact.

We had to maneuver carefully around, cart weaving its way around the remnants of the battle. Anything salvageable had been taken long ago, leaving just the landscape.

The part of the Quarter Jones and Marat had gone to was one of the few places the Flame had ever tried to fight the Royal Army directly. Too disastrous results. Versalicci had fed us delusions and dreams to kill sense. Then he sent us to fight an enemy armed with bravado.

Bravado died a swift death, followed swiftly by hope. The end of that battle had been the breaking point, as hundreds of Flame and our allies died. Diabolism had been spent and guttered out against clerics ten times our power. Summoned devils had died at the hands of units trained on dwarven constructs and monsters from the highlands. On Iltaren Dragon-knights, and what were the meager devils we'd summoned compared to those.

I looked around at the corpses of buildings and the ghosts of corpses long since gone.

"Brings back memories, doesn't it?" I said to Tolman.

He looked around at the ruins of buildings.

"A little," he admitted. "Not necessarily good ones."

"Definitely not good ones," Marat said. "You lot bringing havoc and the hells on top of our heads with your little rebellion mostly."

Jones breathed in, and I overheard a whispered exchange about pissing off the person paying them versus telling the unvarnished truth to 'that crazy diabolist' as I idly stroked my tail. It kept it in my hands, which meant it wasn't off doing something embarrassing.

"True," I said. "Very true."

Gregory cleared his throat. "I realize you all are probably more experienced than me, but wouldn't it be a better idea to go back to your shop and restock? Maybe get a few more things to handle storming a building full of Diabolists?"

"We aren't here to storm it Gregory," I replied, stretching as I massaged my side. Still tender from that fall I'd taken off the rooftop. "We're here to take a look, see if we can determine who is here, and only if it's a couple of them do we actually strike."

If they were out preparing another murder, it was entirely possible only a couple of them were here. Just enough to keep an eye out. Diabolism was dangerous, sure. Survive having the entire might of Her Majesty's Government brought down upon it strong? No. They would be squashed like insects. Very dangerous insects, but it wouldn't be the first time Infernal Diabolists were squashed inside the Kettle.

"Oh," Gregory said. "And if there are more of them than you think we can handle?"

"Then we head to my shop and don't stock up," I said. "Instead, we contact the Watch, Intelligence, and the Churches and have them organize a group to storm it. This little collection of Diabolists has no reason to expect they've been discovered. A few squads of Watch, some clerics experienced with fighting, add a few Intelligence operatives, and they won't know what hit them."

Gregory nodded. "Why not bring them in first, then? Want to make sure it's not a trap of some kind?"

"What is this, baby's first time in the Quarter?" Marat said, sneering. "You worried about cracking a nail, you-"

I should maybe be more upset about my tail wrapping around Marat's neck, throttling her without me having even the slightest thought about it, yet I felt strangely blank. Like a pool of water reflecting a calm sky. As my temporary employee gasped and cursed my name.

My tail retreated as she tried to bite.

"Marat, everyone starts learning at some point," I said calmly as she glared daggers at me, massaging her throat. "Yes, Gregory, in case it's a trap. Also to scout it a little bit ahead of time. Far be it from me to question the competence of everyone involved. But I think it best that we maybe take things with a lighter touch than they might."

In truth, part of the reason was also that I didn't know how long Melissa would stay alive in their hands. There was a chance she was already dead, but if she wasn't, that might be a reason the head in. Not to storm it, but me and perhaps Tolman to sneak inside and recover her without anyone noticing. Maybe slit a couple of throats along the way. It's not like we'd have the advantage of surprise anymore. And more importantly, not bring in anyone who might go for a loud, chaotic storming of the warehouse.

I could imagine Gallaspire yelling as he descended on the building, that glowing sword cutting through the roof…and leaving some spiteful idiot enough time to cut their only captive's throat out of spite. Or taking her hostage.

"Are we close?" I asked Jones.

"Five streets this way, then a right and another three," he told me.

"Good. We leave here then. I don't want that donkey anywhere close to it." I cocked my head to the side listening for a good long while, ignoring the sounds of the cart as it came to a halt. Nothing.

"Either it's warded against sound or they are being extremely quiet," I noted as I got off the cart. "Terminally so, I'd say. Not a bit of noise. Come on, let's get a bit closer on foot."

"Aren't you worried about them hearing us?" Gregory asked.

"No," I said. "Firstly, they'd have posted sentries further out than just the warehouse, but I didn't hear or see anything."

"Can't they use magic to keep quiet?" Gregory asked.

"They could," I said. "Of course, it's not exactly easy. More importantly, they aren't going to risk themselves for a cart passing through, and we aren't stopping anywhere near their warehouse."

"They might know who we are," Gregory whispered. "If one of the killers is a mole, they might know who's involved in the investigation."

"A fair point," I conceded. "But a permanent silencing enchantment is expensive, Gregory. Those little balls of silence I threw to give us cover at Tyler's house? A month of profit. If they can afford those, they can afford far more countermeasures than we could deal with on-hand."

Gregory paused. "Oh."

"Mind you, they could have warded a tiny lookout," I said. "Or an entire separate warehouse to serve as a lookout, but that's also expensive. And most of those who would live in the Kettle aren't going to notice any mild diabolism effects. Follow me."

We continued on foot

No, there are wards to keep diabolism and maybe sound contained inside their building, but that would be the extent of it. Warding materials were another expense that drew attention if you bought too many of them. Now, if these were the Flame the materials for warding a warehouse split twelve ways wouldn't be too suspicious. Well within what they were taught. Materials for warding off too much else? It would itch, knowing the risks. So no, no additional wards.

Mind you, there were smaller sound-dampening enchanted devices like my uncle had used. However, it was crafted by my grandfather, which probably made it one of the best in the Empire. I had one both less effective and unlikely to last as long for even smaller coverage, for sneaking around. The main issue with them is that they were more dampeners than blockers. Liu's could stop people from overhearing a simple conversation, even if right next to them. Most could do that for regular ears. Not mine.

Marat muttered a curse, slapping at an insect, and I gave her an annoyed look.

"I ain't that loud," she whispered. "Also, around the next corner."

I crept forward, taking a look. Most of the buildings were intact, but only one had any signs of people living inside. Boarded-up windows, a closed set of warehouse doors, and patching on the roof to cover the holes.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"So," Tagashin said next to me, transformed into the same pink-skinned tiefling as before. "How are you planning on getting inside there?"

Four people moved at once. Gregory had a hand raised, Light glowing along his fingers, Tolman already throwing a punch, Marat raising her pistol, Jones already running back towards the cart.

Tagashin ducked under Tolman's punch, took the quick beam of Light with a grin as it failed to do anything, and already had a cane out ready to smack Marat's pistol out of her grip.

"Do not pull that trigger!" I hissed, grabbing Marat's weapon and pointing it at the ground. "Don't shoot her!"

"Is she a friend?" Tolman asked, eyeing Tagashin, who waved in response.

"She's an ally," I said. "An annoying one, but she works with Voltar."

Three sets of suspicious eyes turned to Tagashin clad in a pink evening suit and that apparently recovered pink fuzzy tophat, then returned to me. Marat, Tolman, and Gregory were clearly disbelieving about this. Jones wasn't nearby. He finally had reached the cart, probably only not getting the donkey running because he didn't have the other half of his pay yet.

"It's true," Tagashin said, slipping an arm around my shoulders as I gritted my teeth. "I'm Malvia's long-lost sister, Tyrannia Barrow!"

"I thought Tyrannia Barrow was supposed to be wearing a black dress?" I said with forced patience as I focused my mental energies on making my tail not strangle her.

"More your style than mine," she told me. "To be perfectly frank, I am nowhere near disturbed enough to-ahck!"

This time, I didn't even make an effort to get my tail off someone's neck. Her panicked grasping was probably faked. Same for the panicked gasping as well. And I was not taking fashion tips from someone who thought that pink clothing went with pink skin!

Gregory's eyes narrowed. "Barnes. I suppose that explains why my Light didn't work on you at all. What are you?"

"Human," I answered for Tagashin. She was busy clearly faking being strangled. "I made this disguise for her as a favor. If you all would excuse the two of us?"

I went around an alley corner, Tagashin pretending to be dragged along the entire way. I rolled my eyes as she faked having her nails scrape along the wall of an abandoned shop.

"Enough," I said irritably as we rounded the corner, making it another couple of dozen paces. I'd let the wind drown out the rest of our conversation. "Do you have to do that?"

"Do I have to abandon what fun is in the rest of my soul so I become like you?" Tagashin countered. "Malvia, have you considered that maybe letting a little stress burn off would do you a world of good?"

I stared at her in disbelief. Let a little stress burn off? By acting like a fool? With everything that was currently going on? I shook my head, hoping that whatever nonsense the kitsune clearly exuded didn't travel over to me.

"First thing, I forgot to mention it before, for which I'm sorry, but some of my aunts are hunting you," I told Tagashin.

Her grin widened just a little. "Are they? Interesting."

"Don't," I said fiercely. "Whatever you are thinking of, don't do it. They aren't three harmless old ladies out for a bit of foxing, they make sport out of this."

"And you don't want them to make sport out of me, hmm?" Tagashin asked teasingly.

I sighed. "I delivered my warning. If you don't want to take it seriously, fine. If you do, don't hurt them too badly."

"Soft spot for them?"

"Hardly," I said. "I don't want any of it potentially getting linked to me. Family is a hard enough thing to deal with without them holding a death against me."

"Oh, alright. I'll do my best not to harm them physically, but embarrassment is definitely on the table."

"That is more than fine. Now, for more important things. Why are you here?" I whispered to Tagashin.

"You don't need to whisper," she told me. "I'm keeping your new collection of companions from listening in. Illusory sound. Unless you want to do it to feel more dramatic?"

I glared at the Kitsune. Fey magic. I then spoke normally. "Same question. What are you doing here?"

"Well, after finishing the tasks Voltar gave me and retrieving my hat, I decided to check on all my little ducklings," she said in a sweet tone. "Dr. Dawes is fine over at your shop by the way."

"I am not a duck," I said irritably. "Someone took your hat?"

"Not even a particularly murderous duck with darkness in her heart?" Tagashin teased. "And yes, someone did. I decided to let them have it for a bit, just to see what would happen, and then I got it back from someone else later that evening. And oh, what an evening it was, Malvia!"

"I'm sure it was an eventful evening," I said with strained patience. "However, we are in the middle of something right now, Tagashin. Unless any of it is pertinent?"

"None," she admitted with that infuriating, sly grin. "Look, I get it. Is this something important?"

"Another ritual circle," I said. "Probably just as full of souls. I took an unfortunate trip into some of the past events of the first one."

"Not just in memories," she interjected, and I stilled. "I won't say anything, Malvia. But you're going to need something better than a hat at some point."

"I'll take it under consideration. How can you tell?"

"You smell faintly of it. Not much, only a dip for a brief period, I guess. Most others aren't as attuned to that as I am, so you're probably safe even around the government's watchers. The Halspusian bishop, on the other hand, may be an issue."

"A problem to solve when it arrives," I said. "I don't think we have the time to do it sooner. The point is, there's another circle in a warehouse here. I think. And I suspect there may be a dozen total."

Tagashin nodded. "I sense..something. Warded, but something. These are diabolists involved with the case?"

"I think so," I said. "No concrete evidence yet, but circumstantial evidence points towards them being the rogue Black Flame diabolists. And that they kidnapped Melissa from Donald Tyler's home."

"Hrrm," Tagashin said, eyeing me with a sly grin. "You want help?"

Grabbing my tail before it went after her, I forced myself to not grit my teeth. "It would be appreciated."

"Of course. You'll owe me one for later, though," she said, walking back towards the others.

I waited a second before following, trying to figure out if we could handle nine potential diabolists without Tagashin.

***

"So, don't get close. One building away. Focus on the front entrance, but if there's any around the eastern end, a group of two over there. I'll take whatever I can find on the west or south. I'll get as close as I can, listen in on them," I said. "With luck, they'll talk among themselves, enough that we can get an approximate headcount. Maybe find some other things out as well. If we need to go in, I'll signal. Barnes can pick it up and signal the rest of you."

There wasn't a bird in this cold winter sky, and anything big enough to make a sound loud enough was probably in a burrow. Even the occasional man-sized rat would be trying to snooze through the snow for now.

Gregory looked over at Tagashin. "How?"

"Magic," Tagashin said, wriggling her fingers at him. "Malvia, you are going to get in trouble if you keep on leaving hints for them."

"I'll just tell them you told everyone yourself," I replied. "It's more believable."

"Devil?" Gregory asked, and Tagashin laughed.

"We aren't that far from the warehouse," I said, and that sobered them up. "If we go in, prioritize clearing the place out first. We can expect at most nine of them to be in there. Take one alive if you can. That means only if you can do it a single blow before they notice you. Give them a second to cast, you are dead. Whether it's your skin rotting until your organs fall out of you, or hellfire burning you to a crisp. You can't let them use either. Understood?"

Gregory seemed the only one a little perturbed by that. With no objections to the plan, they set off.

Working my way to the southern end took time, time to retrieve one of the tools I needed. The rat squeaked furiously until I forced its jaws shut.

The southern end of the warehouse had no doors. Two sets of windows, wide ones but with boards nailed across the entire length.

I found a small section at the bottom that bore the signs of decay. Despite the new owner's efforts at maintenance, this had escaped them. I pulled out a knife.

Drilling a small hole in the wards was a risk. The person who'd laid them would detect when a breach had been made. If they were inside, they'd be over to investigate soon. I let the rat go and it immediately ran away and towards the warmth. As it passed through the hole, I backed away. Back into the other warehouse. I did hear muffled yelling from inside, the sound of clanking chains. Lucky. It must be where they were keeping any captives. Soon after the sound of clopping hooves, a barked order to shut up, and the squeaking of the rat ended with a squeal and the sound of a knife cleaving through flesh.

I waited for the hooves to echo away, then moved back in, grabbing a hearing tube from inside my coat and sticking it through the hole. A minute later, someone finally spoke.

"Well?" Someone asked, a firm baritone with an edge of apprehension to their voice. I frowned. This one I knew. Not well, but one of the criminals who'd joined the Flame when the fighting first started. Calhoun? More indications this was the Flame.

"Rat," someone rasped, a voice that sounded like rusty nails. "Looks like it forced its way through a little bit of rot searching for warmth. You want us to check the area in case someone helped it in?"

"Check briefly," the first voice said. "We need you back for ritual as soon as you can. Make sure it's not those two from earlier. Then fix that hole."

"First, those two left right after Selvice threatened them, and second, we're going to be delayed a lot longer if we have to seal up every hole opened up by some animal. I told you once winter arrived, anything that wants to stay warm would try to make its way in here. Warding is preventing the stench of diabolism from scaring them off until they get inside. Besides, do you want to delay this again?"

"No. We'll start the next ritual. I want five brought through before the day ends."

"I don't like this," a new voice said. Sounded masculine but high, thin, and reedy. "We weren't supposed to do this. This'll set us back. And we don't have any easy pickings, unless you count those two we tried scaring off."

"Oh, hush," the raspy voice from before replied. "So we have to slit a few more throats. If you want to claim some moral standing on that-"

"I am not!"

"Shut up," the firm baritone said, cutting both the voices off completely. "Keep your tongue in your mouth if you can't stay at least somewhat quiet."

All the voices cut off at that, and I bit back a curse. I waited, feeling the seconds tick by. We could only afford to wait for so long. Still. Three people in there for sure, and they were discussing spending the souls. Probably.

"We don't even know whose orders we're taking," the same reedy voice that had started the conversation whined.

"I thought you were in favor of following those orders?" The harsh-voiced one rasped. "Are you in favor of the damn summoning or not?"

"I'm in favor of what puts us at the least risk," Reedy Voice protested. "Meaning not summoning another devil. Especially after that last one. We want to reach even higher and get one even more strange than that?"

There was a pause, and I kept still, waiting while my mind raced. Devil summoning, and from the sounds of it, not minor ones like those dog-things from yesterday. More than one, and they were planning on summoning another. Could they even do that?

If they had corpses for the shells, maybe. The ritual circle could do other spells as well, even if its main purpose was different. And that main purpose was to punch a hole in the barrier between this world and the Hells. That might actually aid in the summoning.

"The last one was an outlier," the baritone said. "A new one sniffing out the portal and taking the chance. Be glad they were willing to accept terms instead of trying to fight us and wasting those souls entirely. Speaking of, though, I think that last one did eat more souls than we allotted. Jenny, go get the captive. Time to feed the circle."

Well, shite.

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