Chương 44: Chapter 43

It had been a long but productive night, and Cal was feeling pretty satisfied. They'd talked, argued, and, after weighing all factors, decided on a course of action. Olivia may have thrown around words like 'railroading' and 'unreasonably stubborn,' but that was baseless slander, and he'd stand by the statement that it was a mutual decision to stay in the city. To that end, Lennard was taking the names Cal had and cross-referencing them with what his team had dug up.

Cal had learned the team was structured so that each member was responsible for sections of the city. Cassey, for example, worked for a company that contracted servants to a set of districts known for being home to those not quite rich enough to buy a title but well off enough to occasionally rub shoulders with the nobility. Lennard, on the other hand, worked mainly in the slums. If he was telling the truth, he preferred it that way. Something about it being familiar territory.

There were more important things than to quiz him on his background. That led to each one being familiar with specific socio-economic classes. It wasn't a bad set up, and Cal hoped they'd be able to find a connection. Pointedly, Lennard had never seen or heard about this type of 'drug' but it may have been too rich for his contacts' tastes. Cores came in all kinds of quality and sizes, but they weren't easy to get your hands on.

The difference between a core being demonic or beast in origin was rather subtle and not as impactful as one might think. They both corrupted you in the same way; the demonic simply had a distinctive flavor. It was something that, once experienced, was easy to pick out. Given the rarity of demons, most would not be able to differentiate between them. It made him question how much the ones peddling them actually knew. All things he would learn himself in due time.

It was a lot easier to be patient when you knew things were moving in the right direction. Cal stretched his arms behind him, breathing in the night air. He hadn't made it back to campus yet and was incredibly lost. He could have resolved it quickly by either jumping to get a better vantage point or casting out his senses; he chose to do neither. Walking in the city he was meant to protect gave him a stronger sense of purpose.

The occasional drunk puking in an alley detracted from it some, but that was balanced out by the ordinary people laughing and enjoying a weekend night out. Cal turned his attention back to the discussion they'd had. He'd taken some liberties with what he'd shared. It wasn't that he omitted any names; he'd even mentioned how he'd found out about the whole thing; no, it was that he added an extra. Professor Klechin, brother to Duke Ferrum and alleged 'creep'.

As far as he knew, there weren't any connections between Klechin and the names he had to work with. But, did it really hurt to throw his name into the ring and see if anything came of it? It was better to leave no stone unturned than be regretful of it later. More lies, but as far as they went, this one wasn't bad. Cal idly noted how he must have taken an extra wrong turn as the street became deserted. He considered turning around but figured if anyone tried mugging him, he'd just outrun them.

He could even lead them on a chase, letting them get close before slipping away. It would be rather amusing to see how long they'd be willing to chase him. A huff of mockery directed at himself escaped when he felt his sleeve tear. Perhaps his proper uniform would have resisted the thrown blade, but he didn't want to walk around in it. His finger felt for the opening, and when he brought it back, it was stained red.

"Fair play." He wasn't speaking to his attacker. More to the world as a whole. He'd not only made light of Olivia getting ambushed but also was just thinking about playing with criminals. It was fitting he'd be attacked by someone who could actually draw blood from him. For whatever that counted for.

"This one is on me." Boosting his senses, he scanned the environment. He had managed to instinctively sway and lessen what would have been a shoulder stab to a mere scrape, but the fact that he didn't see the attack coming far earlier spoke volumes about his aggressor. They were good; they were very good. He could barely pick up the scent of their magic. But he did. Cal, the student, ramped up to the upper limit of what he'd shown at the Academy and disappeared from the street.

He reappeared on the rooftop level, and a few more steps took him half a block further. Fist reared back, he came face to face with his attacker and promptly tripped over his feet. While his momentum caused him to violently fall off the roof, he did manage to avoid hitting anything besides cobblestones. Cal lay sprawled out on the stone, looking up at the night sky. He'd pissed a lot of people off in his days; there was a not insignificant amount of people that wanted him dead.

For some reason, he'd never thought his tailor of all things would be among them. A sense of vindication came over him. Lily could eat her words; Miss Plusier was verifiably trying to stab him.

"Are you alright, dear?" Cal couldn't tell if the concern was genuine or not.

"I was sure you'd be able to take that much." He rolled to his side, and his resting place was soon littered with blades. Well, foot-long needles, but the same difference to him.

"How spry! As expected." More needles were sent his way. Cal was moving to avoid them when alarm bells rang in his head, and he ducked in time to get only a partial haircut. She appeared behind him with a serene smile, swinging the blades clutched between her knuckles. He couldn't kill his tailor…could he? Was it worth having to accompany Alice and Lily to find a new one? The first time had been trying enough.

"Hmm," She paused in her assault and tilted her head, the locks of her purple and grey hair not contained in her bun falling to the side.

"You haven't the faintest idea why I'm here, do you?" There was a tinge of disappointment in her tone. Right, asking why she was trying to kill him was a decent first step. He'd forgotten that was an option.

"No? If Alice missed a payment, I'm probably good for it," he quipped, trying to decide what to do. That no one had stumbled on them could have been luck, but it reeked more of being by design to him. She'd herded him here for a reason.

"Nothing like that; she's a good girl, and her mother would not dare stiff me." There was a swishing sound, and a needle from afar flew into her hand. It had a scrap of fabric, one that had been a part of his shirt. She wrapped it around her finger, looking at it quizzically.

"We all have our vices. I for one love collecting mementos from my customers. Taking those little reminders and crafting them into a tapestry of memories. You'll see I've made many in my time." She swayed left and right, letting her robe flutter in the wind. It was a patchwork thing, made up of hundreds of disparate pieces of cloth. Cal had once called it elegant; now it came across as macabre.

"Oh!" She placed a hand in front of her mouth and displayed a startled expression. She lowered it and gave a deep curtsey.

"I never properly introduced myself; nowadays I am a humble tailor, but there are those who still know me by Spider. A pleasure to truly meet you." Cal felt like that name was supposed to mean something, and his lack of reaction must have been telling.

"You don't know who I am. Do you?" Her posture slumped, and a melancholy voice carried over.

"Well, that just won't do. No wonder you are so non-plussed; you haven't the faintest idea who stands before you." If he was reading this right, each of those pieces of cloth represented a human life. The body count made things much easier.

"You read it wrong," Cal responded nonchalantly. The tailor looked at him inquisitively, her dark eyes keeping steady on him.

"I read what wrong?"

"The script, see that line about not knowing who's in front of you? That was meant for me." A smile blossomed on her face; it was full of teeth.

"I see, or I don't," she said with a teasing tone, playing along.

"My vision is not what it used to be; I would say never get old... but why worry about that? Would you be a dear and tell me what I'm meant to say next?" Cal nodded good-naturedly and closed his eyes.

"Let's see here." He opened them again. Magic flooded his system, and he pushed his augmentation to its true limit.

"That's funny; it doesn't look like you have any more." The ground beneath him erupted, and his knuckles felt fabric for the briefest moment before it slipped away.

"Many thanks for the warning," she said, her voice coming from the side unruffled.

"I would have certainly perished without it." And what a shame that would have been. Cal straightened out and retracted his fist.

"Okay, again, that's on me." Cal scratched his head. In terms of making a scene, augmentation was fine; he'd trained hard to be efficient and to not leak any excess energy. He could use his full strength, and without looking directly at him, people wouldn't be able to tell the difference. Manifestations were another story. He'd turn more than a few heads if he started throwing out what he needed to deal with this.

"Can I get a second to think?" Asking for essentially a timeout may have been strange, but she felt just off her rocker enough to accept something like that.

"Take all the time you need; I've arranged it for us not to be disturbed." That was considerate. Cal reviewed what happened. He'd shown ability way above that of a student, so she had to die; the question was how to accomplish that. She'd glided out of the way of his attack. With how fast he was going, that wasn't something anybody could do. He couldn't say she was as strong as a Constellation member, but he also couldn't rule it out. Which was concerning.

The world was a big place, so it wasn't surprising there were powerhouses he didn't know about, but finding one in front of him was inconvenient. He could attack with reckless regard; all he needed was a single opening, and it'd be over. But before any of that, he should probably prove he could learn from the past and ask what her deal was before ripping out her spine.

"To be clear, the only reason you're still standing is because clobbering you would involve waking up a big portion of the city." The most reliable way he had of dealing with this level of adversary was hazardous for the environment. The last time he'd done it was against the First and Second. The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. She hummed in thought, twirling a needle in her fingers. Cal took note of what looked like a focus centered on her palm.

With the lack of response, Cal decided to add some credence to his argument.

"Those aren't empty words. This isn't a 'frog in a well' situation either; I know the top. I've fought the top. Been to both the hells and the center of the Waste." The needle froze, and her eyes gained a sharp quality.

"The Waste you say? What did you see?" There was a gravitas to the question posed. He could say a lot about it, but at the end of the day, two words summed it up.

"A hole." Granted, a big one. A chasm kilometers wide, spewing magic so concentrated that even he had trouble standing the place. If that wasn't bad enough, occasionally a beast climbed out from the depths. Cal had never tried exploring it; he wasn't that dumb. Another smile broke out on her face. Unlike before, this one seemed born of understanding.

"That is what it is, isn't it? Those who read of it like to dress it up, make it some grand thing. But a hole is a hole. Grave of a god or not." It was where the Fall started and ended, for the gods at least. Humanity was left to pick up the pieces. From what he knew, it had been kicked off when Vinyir slept with the matriarch of the pantheon, Urel. Xerxes, the patriarch of the pantheon, flew into a rage and killed them both in a battle that nearly destroyed the center of the continent.

Amir, god of deceit, was also slain that day. What happened after wasn't clear, but the remaining gods and their followers eventually rallied and put down the mad god. There were no survivors of that battle, only a hole in the center of what was the wound of this world. The entire area was aptly dubbed the Waste.

"I don't need a history lesson." He probably did, but he was still holding out for the Spirit to fess up about what it knew.

"So you believe me? Does that mean I can start threatening you?" With a wave of a hand, the needles scattered around shot back towards her. They neatly found their place in the bun her hair was done in.

"Is that what you've been trying at? I'm afraid I make a poor target for that type of thing. Even that star in your pocket won't be enough to break my spirit." Cal had been taking it fairly easy. He didn't know why she was after him, but he felt safe in the knowledge that she didn't know who he actually was. That had changed, and he reassessed how much collateral damage he was willing to risk.

"Such a scary look." She oozed a level of condescension he didn't know possible.

"But that still falls short." Her hand fiddled with one of the many loose strands of hair that had escaped her bun.

"I could dye it, the grey ones, that is. I prefer not to; I like the gentle reminder they provide to those who know of me. You don't get grey in this line of work by accident." She was starting to get on his nerves, but now he needed to know what she knew.

"Alright, I think I've been nice enough. You can spill your guts, or I can spill them for you." He held up a hand to preempt and quick rebuttal.

"Yeah, I know you just said I can't threaten you, but if you're as tough as you think, then there's no harm in telling me, as I won't make it out of here alive. Something like that, right?" It was the classic, make them think you're dead or going to be soon trick. Cal had never used it to extract information, but there were first times for everything. She tutted at him, and he restrained himself from any overt reaction.

"You mistake me; I know better than to think one of you would fall so easily. As for your question." There was a small burst of giggling before she continued.

"I wouldn't expect others to notice. You could say I'm intimately familiar with that particular shape of metal." Her voice took a deeper tone, and she had a longing look.

"If Claire had not given me a word of warning to watch out for her daughter, it may have slipped me. Even then, I had been expecting another normal snake. When I felt it…" She rested a palm against her face.

"I didn't know how to act; it took nearly everything to maintain a calm facade. So much nervous energy; I was like a young schoolgirl again." The psycho was acting weird, which was saying something.

"Can you not speak in riddles?" She blinked and looked to remember he was still there.

"It was a dalliance of youth. I had relations with a strapping young man. He had bright blue eyes… or were they brown? Regardless, we shared many a moment, and for a time I thought she and I would be something more. Alas, we went our separate ways. I had my work here, and she had her little crusade. I thought you might have been carrying a message for me; imagine my disappointment when none came."

Cal wasn't the smartest person out there, so when he came to a conclusion, he had to double-check his thought process to confirm he wasn't crazy.

"You're saying," Cal paused, gathering his sanity and holding it close.

"You're Mask's ex?" He changed his mind. Cal didn't care how much he was being paid; it wasn't enough to deal with Mask's crazy ex. He began to wonder if this was the actual reason Mask ducked this assignment.

"We never put a label on it, but I suppose you can put it like that. I'm rather upset he never mentioned me." Cal raked his mind. Wait, were spiders creepy crawlies? He could also recall Mask mentioning spiders in the past. He had just thought they were talking about the arachnid and not some crazy assassin. With that, some credence was placed behind her claim.

"Or did he?" There was a hopeful tilt in her voice, and Cal moved to shut it down.

"Nope," He couldn't remember anything positive being said.

"So you know who I am. Is that why you attacked me?" If her attempt on his life turned out to be some weird foreplay between them, someone was going to get a beating, and it wasn't going to be him.

"Ancestors, no." She shook her head.

"I'm here because of professional courtesy. And before it slips my mind, don't be too cross with Claire. I doubt she understood the magnitude of what or who she was getting entangled with. Even I only thought you were a mere errand boy until recently. Of course, that changed when one of my colleagues disappeared. When I was notified of it, I thought to myself, 'Now who could have done that?'" She tapped a finger on her chin.

"It's not a large list and most know to pay me a visit before carrying out that sort of business on my territory." There weren't many people he'd killed here, so it wasn't hard to figure out who she was talking about. How many people knew that guy? He'd no idea he was meant to ask permission to off him.

"You're with Nox, aren't you?" He probably shouldn't be confirming he'd killed the Whimpering Death guy, but she already seemed to know and was crazy anyway.

"Infinita Nox, I'm retired, but I keep my contacts." There was a brief moment, and she continued with a more muted tone.

"You know of that name but not my own?"

"I learned about who they were a couple of hours ago." Cal wasn't sure why he was comforting her.

"I guess I should apologize for not telling you before killing him?" If he'd known the guy was some local mascot, he would have handed him off to the Federation agents to stick in some hole.

"Don't be silly. That's the life he chose. I will admit it was surprising to hear of his death; he was always careful not to bite off more than he could chew." There was an almost wistful expression on her face before it fell back into an easy smile.

"I'm sure he didn't expect to run into a newly minted star, one that must be well hidden to evade my ears. But I am not here about his death. I'm here to give you professional courtesy." Cal didn't bother to clarify the star had been given to him under the table by Millie, focusing on the last words she said.

"I'm not ashamed to say you've lost me."

"Well, you see, little Alice has come to me recently with a request. Collecting on an old debt even. I'm not usually so open with my dealings, but given it directly relates to you, well, as I said, I'm doing you a courtesy." The serial killer was doing him a favor. Why did that not make him feel any better?

"What did she want?" He asked with more than a little apprehension. He couldn't imagine what Alice would want with her outside of clothing. Lily on the other hand…he could think of several reasons.

"To arrange a meeting with my old fellows. She has a job related to a one Anne Sauratus. Something to gain a little insurance and assure the girl's silence. She wanted me to carry it out, but I am too old for that. I was going to refer her to someone capable." Cal had never bothered to learn Anne's last name but was fairly certain they must be one and the same. He gave an unexaggerated groan and ran a hand through his hair, looking up at the stars briefly.

"I could have been a damn staff member," he muttered to no one in particular.

"I might have had to wake up at the crack of dawn for meal prep, but it would beat dealing with the conspiring of a fake sister." He turned his head back to the street, looking for something to punch. The psycho gave him a jaunty wave. She was probably off limits. Setting aside that she'd be a pain in the ass to actually kill, she was Mask's ex. He was pretty sure there was a rule saying not to kill your sort of-maybe friend's ex. At the very least, Mask had dibs.

He could also forgive the sneak attack; if she did think him some secret Constellation member, then that really was par the course for a friendly hello.

"Thank you?" Cal responded awkwardly. She was saving him a headache by giving him a heads-up.

"You haven't told anyone about me, right?" That should have been his primary concern, but it almost felt like an afterthought to him.

"I'll have you know my discretion is well known. You needn't worry about anything leaving these lips."

"Good, I want to keep it that way." Cal felt like a bit of an idiot, taking the woman at her word, but he wasn't flush with options.

"As for Alice, tell her you couldn't do anything."

"If only it were that simple. A debt is a debt; I won't renege on that." There was something in her tone that told him this was a hard line. The conversation he had earlier tonight came to the forefront of his mind.

"I'll convince her otherwise." He wasn't as confident as he should be in delivering that.

"On the off chance I can't, could you maybe refer her to someone in particular?" It was official; he was going to need to learn how to whistle.