It was an entire caravan coming up the road to the warehouse. The carriage in front was unadorned but clearly well-made and stood out for it. The carts behind it stood out a little less. The well-cared-for horses pulling and the well-maintained state of them would draw eyes as well, and probably had. The Kettle wasn't near the borders of the Quarter.

I suppose that was entirely the point, knowing who would have sent these. You couldn't bait a trap without making sure the target saw the bait. If only said bait wasn't in my house.

Tagashin, now disguised as Barnes, waved from the coach box next to the driver. He was a lot less easy-going than her, tension apparent in his stiffness even under layers of thick winter clothing. Further back, it was harder to tell, but the cart drivers didn't seem any less tense than him. None of them were Infernal.

I was outside, having come out a few seconds ago, as my hearing had picked up the sounds of wheels. Tolman and Melissa were clustered around a fire, enjoying their tea, while Gregory went to join them. The Holy symbols of Halpsus were nowhere in sight, tucked away in his pants.

The carriage came to a halt, and Tagashin flung the door open, practically skipping to the snow below.

I restrained a pang of irritation. She'd been shot. If I'd tried that after taking a bullet, I'd probably end up tearing half my insides prancing around like that.

"I see you are up and about," Tagashin said as she came to a stop just in front of me, smiling warmly. "Get some rest?"

"A little," I said, as I tried to look past her inside the carriage. "Probably not enough. Hopefully, I can get some tonight."

"And now that you've said it, you know you've doomed yourself to not getting a wink of sleep tonight, right?"

"You brought back the wrong Voltar," I told Tagashin, eyeing the other person exiting the carriage.

"Alas, Miss Harrow," Samuel Voltar said as he walked closer. "We do not always get what we want, do we? I was hoping to have a relatively calm month for once in our capital, not this mess."

The Intelligence operative was clad in a thick, heavy coat with fur trim from an animal I couldn't identify, only that it went through as white as snow to black as coal and through every shade of grey in between. A long scarf was wrapped tightly around his head, and with the black cylinder of his top hat, very little of his face poked through the gap in between them.

"The other Voltar is busy," Tagashin said. "When I made it to his house, both of them were there with a couple of priests, and they decided this Voltar would be the better pick."

"We have names," Samuel said in an amused tone. "You could maybe use those instead of 'This Voltar'?"

Ah, the meaty one is back, The Imp said, rousing as if it had been asleep. How I would love to sink my teeth into his girth.

Samuel stared flatly at my forehead as I held back a sigh.

"Shut up Imp," I said irritably. "My apologies Mr. Voltar."

He waved it off. "It's fine. A small price for being able to hear creatures like this. I can only be grateful I don't have something like that in my head all of the time. I imagine it gets very annoying."

"Yes," I agreed, and we both ignored the shrill shrieks of the Imp in response.

"I've filled them both in on what happened," Tagashin said. "The relevant details at least."

I didn't nod or give any other hint of thanks for continuing to hide things I didn't want Intelligence knowing. It was entirely possible they already did know, of course. Still any effort by others to keep those things hidden was appreciated.

"Two circles," I said quietly. "I'm not an expert, but I think twelve might be involved."

"Possibly," Samuel replied. "One for each deity involved in this is your theory, then?"

"I hope not," I said, turning to look back inside the warehouse. "These circles each contain quite a few souls, and twelve of them would imply quite a lot of deaths."

"Not more than what probably dies every month," Samuel said clinically. "Quite a bit less probably. But point taken. Carther!"

One of the cart drivers got off his vehicle, coming to attention ankle-deep in the snow.

"Yessir?"

"Get everyone else together, the circle gets loaded first, then everything, and I mean everything from inside the building itself. Anything that doesn't get loaded will be left here for when Peters and his crew get here. We'll drop the circle off at Miss Harrow's house, along with anything that is diabolical in nature, and take the rest to Vierville."

And there it was. 'Vierville' had to be code for a safehouse of some kind, unless they really were going to ship it to a foreign country's coastal town. But the circle itself was headed right towards my home.

"My house Mr. Voltar?" I asked, keeping my tone calm but with an undercurrent of anger.

"The first one is already there, isn't it?" Samuel asked. "It seems better to keep them in the same place for now instead of splitting them up. Resources are limited, Miss Harrow."

"Mister Voltar," I told him with a strained smile. "My house has been broken into twice in one day. Three times, if we stretch back just another twenty-four hours. I have been battered. I have not been sleeping well or sleeping enough. If you want to risk it, I can't feasibly say no to you, but I could hardly describe my house as secure."

"I'm hardly arguing we should just stick it in there and leave you alone with it," Samuel said. "You'll have intelligence agents keeping watch and ready to spring the trap."

"Like the Intelligence agents who interceded the last three times my house was broken into?" I asked bitterly.

"The operatives around your house aren't really suited for handling a pair of possessed," Samuel told me. "They are there to watch and raise the alarm for help that can do more than watch. However, by the time help had arrived, your brother had left with his two minions, you had already handled Miss Skall, and your conversation with the Priestess of Baltaren was going well."

Priestess of Baltaren? Well, that was an interesting little tidbit to file away for later. Maybe something to ask Metrill about when we next meet. I wouldn't be adverse to picking up a trick for disguises that could fool Imperial Intelligence.

"I'm not going to pretend to have any real standing," I said, keeping my tone cautious. No need to fake that, I had to tread carefully around this one. A liking for banter didn't mean Samuel's grasp on my life couldn't close shut if I pushed too hard.

"Your standing is tenuous," he said, nodding in agreement. "Not as tenuous as the kitsune, but you also don't have the same talents as her. No offense."

"A little taken," I said with a sober grin. "As much as certain groups must dislike us being put to work by you, I imagine it's still easier to get your hands on Diabolists than on powerful foreign fey."

"Indeed," Samuel agreed. "Although you are definitely valued."

Like the way a well-performing horse at the races was, I imagined.

"Well, if that is the case, I would appreciate not having my half-brother being let inside with no consequences," I told him bluntly. "So if letting him do so is some scheme to make him feel comfortable enough for when you finally decide to take care of him, keep in mind I'm only willing to put up with so much 'discomfort' to arrange that."

Samuel was quiet for a moment. Had I hit the nail on the head in regards to Versalicci? Maybe. Once he visited my stop, and no attempt had been made the second time, I couldn't help but suspect that the reason they hadn't made an effort is because they didn't want to. Oh, sure,it could just be making Versalicci feel more comfortable venturing to the surface. But what guarantee did they have that he would come again?

"There are devils in the city," I reminded him. "The one who summoned them is still alive, assuming Malachti and Mitlau haven't hunted him down yet."

"Ah, yes, your brother's two possessed," Samuel said. "Did you know they were possessed?"

"Did you?" I countered, then shook my head. "Sorry. No, I didn't know they were possessed. Honestly, I consider both of them two of the last people you'd want to stick a devil inside."

Mitlau was only stable in the sense that he did murder with the same dispassionate professionalism he did everything else. Malachti was one nudge away from cutting a throat because it said something he found offensive. Neither of them were suited for having devils in them. Especially ones more powerful than the Imp.

"We can discuss it on the way over," Samuel said, motioning towards the warehouse. "First, if you wouldn't mind assisting with the loading, along with your little group?"

"Tolman's arm is broken," I told him. "Just got healed as well, and Melissa has…"

I looked over where her, Gregory, and Tolman had been standing and only found the latter two in attendance.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"....decided to be elsewhere," I said, crossing my arms. I couldn't be too upset, I would have done the same thing in a situation like this, but it still needled at me. The moment Intelligence reared its head, she ran for the nearest safe alley?

I could only hope she didn't go to Versalicci. Or that she could stay out of his clutches. He'd have more than Mitlau and Malachti keeping an eye out for her.

"Two sets of hands," I told him.

"Well, it is better than none. Hop to it then."

I gave him an irritated glare, then moved towards the warehouse.

***

By the time everything had been loaded and this little caravan was underway, the ache in my muscles had deepened. You know, maybe the others had a point about getting proper sleep. Certainly, right now I wanted to do nothing more than sink into a fluffy bed and pillow and drift away. My actual bed wasn't that comfortable, but it would do.

Across from me, Samuel Voltar looked at me in bemusement, the bastard. He hadn't bothered to help at all. That meant he had no right to be a smug prick, especially given everything I'd gone through the last few days.

We were the only two in the carriage itself, Tagashin up on the carriage seat with the driver, and Voltar insisting that only members of Intelligence ride. If he wanted this to be a private conversation, he should make sure the blasted curtains were drawn over the window.

We'd gathered a small crowd before we left. Only at a far distance, people who had heard about what had gone on in the Kettle came to gawk at the strangers who had come inside. Making sure they left without establishing a presence inside the Quarter? How many had known before now, even just an inkling of what was going on, and hadn't reported it? Why would they?

It was depressing when the only person I could think of doing anything actively to change that was the one person who should not. Then again, knowing my half-brother, he probably slit the throats of anyone else who might try.

"You know, I've heard it said that an honest day's work is one of the most fulfilling experiences in the world," he said, and I could not keep a glare off my face.

"Whoever said that has probably never worked an 'Honest day's work' in their life," I said. "And since you're quoting the Crown Prince, I know he's never worked one."

It crossed my mind that insulting a member of the royal family might be a bad idea. Especially in front of someone who worked for them. Of course, it only occurred after I said it.

Samuel just chuckled. "He has made the attempt on occasion. He may even think his attempts to go among the common folk in disguise went unnoticed. So I could see why he might think he believes he's worked an honest day's work, but he is a stranger to it. Not that I would call what you or I do an honest day's work either. I am surprised you know the quote, though."

"I may be a lowlife, Mr. Voltar, but I'm not an illiterate or uncultured lowlife," I said drily. "I can read, and write, and even know what order the letters go in. Give me enough time, and I can even tell you which fork is the shrimp fork."

"Point taken," he said, leaning back. "You should catch up on your sleep though, next time you get a chance. I don't like my people being run ragged."

"If I ever get a chance with this chaos that is currently going on," I said, sighing. "This idea of sticking the ritual circle in my basement is not going to help me get sleep any time soon, though."

Samuel sighed. "Well, you just need to be ready if the trap gets sprung. Ideally, not involved at all, but I know better than to think things will work out as I hope they will. And we might have time. So far today there has not been a single killing. That we know of."

"Thinking a couple of the more isolated members among the pantheon's program have been shuffled off into the Hells?"

"I have the assurances of Bishop Gallaspie and Slayer Derrick they have not," Samuel said, perfectly concealing any irritation he might have with them in a flat tone. "Since we are still in the process of checking the names on the list you were given, I have to take them at your word. Speaking of, I believe you were planning on handling some of those names?"

"I was," I confirmed. "Probably what I'll head to next, once the second circle is stowed away."

"Tagashin can handle that," he said. "With me accompanying her, I think we can finish your half of the list before the sun sets."

"All but one," I said. "I want to meet with the Priest of Zaviel, if that is alright. I have arrangements I need to make with his church anyway."

"You think they will let you bury them?"

"I have to try. I owe them that much."

I'd secured Jones and Marta's remains a spot in our little caravan. Lucky that we had more than enough space for everything portable inside the Diabolist's hideout. Otherwise, I knew Samuel would have forced me to leave them behind.

"Good luck with it," Samuel said, sounding sincere, but that could always be a front. "You won't just have Zaviel's clergy to deal with for that, but good luck."

"Thank you," I said, before moving to a topic I knew would turn this conversation more combative. "Now, about keeping both of them in my home. Diabolism is ill-suited for killing the diabolic, and normal weapons can work, but take more time. I can rig some alchemical solutions up, but they tend to be the kind that aren't friendly to buildings."

"It strikes me as so strange that the very magic devils use against each other is suddenly ineffective," Samuel observed in a questioning tone.

"Not ineffective but less effective," I explained. "It's the equivalent of using a sword to attack someone in full plate instead of if they just wore cloth. You can still hurt them, it just takes more effort. I don't know if I can muster up the power to pose a threat to the devils they may have summoned."

"Is part of that due to your little trip inside the first ritual circle earlier today?"

I paused for barely a second. "Yes. It takes time for my reservoir to recharge, especially with how much I poured in before taking a peek into that circle."

"Hrrm," Samuel said, raising an eyebrow in a way that made him resemble his brother much more. "I expected you to be a little more shocked?"

"You already said you have people watching me," I said, ignoring the little voice screaming for me to throw myself out of the carriage. "I did all of this in the front room of my shop, and with the front window shattered it would have been impossible to miss unless they were blind. I'm assuming from the fact I'm not dead, you at least want my side of the story?"

"It would be appreciated," Samuel said. "Certainly would help us come to a decision regarding it all."

How much was safe to say? If I said too little and they had some other source who could tell them more? Had he run this by Vesper or another of his Diabolism experts? Most, tell him most.

"I was mostly concerned about trying to calm it down," I told him. "It was shrieking, pulsing, every symbol on its surface lit up. Holmsteader's thugs throwing it through my window probably didn't help, and we're lucky it didn't rupture. On the Imp's advice, I flooded it with my diabolism to look inside and try to quell the spirits. We both drastically underestimated how many souls were inside."

"How so?"

"I assumed the number I saw in his basement was how many he had killed," I said, mouth dry as my mind went back to that abattoir. "It was far larger than that. Putting the total number of deaths under a thousand for that one circle would be a mistake."

Samuel frowned. "It is the Quarter, and I assume his targets were people who wouldn't be missed. Even so, that seems quite a large number of people dead with no one noticing."

"It's been going on for a while," I said. "That base the black flame Diabolists were operating has been lived in for a while. But yeah, they probably had someone else helping out to keep this under wraps. Maybe getting souls from someplace else, where they wouldn't be missed."

"Something to look into," Samuel said, expression darkening. "A few complaints that were deemed too minute to look into regarding the prisoner rehabilitation work programs suddenly come into a new light."

I nodded. Those 'prisoner rehabilitation programs' meant forced labor in the mines up near Blightly or draining the swamps down south. The work was hard, dangerous, and from all accounts, the overseers weren't too concerned about the prisoner's health. The perfect place to make people disappear.

"Continue, please."

"A number of souls inside the circle touched my own," I said. "After making me experience several of their memories upon the moment of death, they drew me inside the little pocket of hellspace Tyler had made for it. There, I encountered what I think was a parasitic entity that tried to latch onto my soul. I continued through the Hellspace, eventually encountering the mechanism of the circle drawing the souls into a gestalt. My best guess is that it is for the purpose of punching a permanent hole into the Hells. I was then forced out."

Samuel chewed on that for a few seconds, as I waited, then decided to continue.

"My journey there left marks," I admitted, removing my hat and scarf enough for Samuel to see the silver hairs and forming gills. "Attempts to hide them with magic…everything but the hair can be subsumed, but that required more drastic measures."

Samuel was quiet for a moment, before silently nodding.

"I can understand why you might be worried," he said calmly. "But to be clear, even before hearing your side of the story, this was not going to result in what you might have been fearing. It was clear even to the watchers you weren't trying to break the boundary of your employment. This isn't ideal, but it's not worth punishing."

"It's also part of why I want those things as secure as we can make them," I said. "The power inside them is too much. That second one is still stuffed, I'm sure of it, and it was used to summon multiple devils, none of whom are minor powers. Not if that thing they were trying to bring through when the fight happened is any indication."

Samuel nodded.

"We will have priests brought in," Samuel said. "That was always the plan, because even powerful devils can shy away from the Pantheon's light."

"Relatively," I said. "Infernals melt because while we have Diabolism in our veins, it's not particularly powerful or aimed at protecting us. Powerful devils will laugh at any random priest who throws Light at them."

"Less powerful priests, yes. There is some any devil would be forced to retreat from. I can think of a few who might be rather interested in keeping a close eye on you. An additional way of swaying them into doing it for us."

"You are not sticking Bishop Gallaspie in my house." I told him

"He is a powerful priest who specializes in slaying devils, so if we want the most effective person for the job, he is the clear choice."

"He's also the clear choice to ensure I end up dead because I do something that offends him. My still breathing air on this plane of existence offends him. No."

Samuel considered me, irritation plain on his face. "You are being obstinate."

"You can overrule me and command it at any point," I said. "I am pointing out that having the two of us under one roof isn't likely to end well. Nor is it going to endear us to anyone in this neighborhood, and people will provide help and look the other way if it means kicking a man who sticks their souls in spikes out of here."

Samuel shrugged. "Slayer of the Dead Derrick also mentioned possibly helping. I assume she would be more palatable?"

"More palatable to me," I said. "I can't speak for everyone around me. I think I've strained their tolerance enough already."

He nodded briefly, and I nodded back while my mind raced.

He'd been pressing me on Gallaspie just to offer Derrick as a compromise, and I was a little insulted he thought I wouldn't spot that. He'd wanted Derrick the entire time, but the confusing part was why he thought I'd object? There was no other reason I could think of for handling the issue like this.

"Meanwhile, we will need to arrange for Vesper to come and examine those circles," he said. "Not to be insulting, but your expertise in Diabolism is a bit lacking."

"I planned on getting Vesper anyway," I told him. "And I agree in regards to my experience with Diabolism. Having someone more experienced than me take a look inside is a good idea. But we can do that anywhere, which includes not in my basement."

Samuel sighed irritably, opening the carriage window. I refused to let the cold bother me as I stared at him.

"I am not trying to be difficult," I said. "If the plan is to lay a trap, though, there are better places that are less obvious than dumping them in my shop. Desperation will drive them there eventually, but the same will go for anywhere else we pick, and there are plenty that are more defensible."

"And will it mean less damage to your shop?" Samuel asked, peering out into the cold. I forced down a pang of irritation at his refusal to meet my eyes.

"Yes," I admitted. "But the point stands regardless of my personal motivation. It's a shop and a house, not anything approaching a fortress. Broadly defensible in the same way anything with four walls and more than one floor is, in a place not that sympathetic to authority."

"You make fair points," Samuel said. "Unfortunately, they don't matter, and if you think you're the first to think of them, you're mistaken."

My eyes narrowed. There'd been some frustration in that statement as well. Was he referring to others besides me complaining about this idea? Or was he being leaned on by his superiors about this?

"Then I'll drop the subject," I said, mentally resigning myself to what was sure to come. It was too much to hope no one would bite on the bait. They needed these ritual circles.

Now, if only I could figure out why Intelligence needed that trap to be in my shop.

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