The days on Ruswal Island were quiet lately, and Simon liked it that way. The ex-Agent of the Curia had had his fill of excitement in his youth, and he much preferred the peaceful times that had prevailed since the threat of the Nightlord's return had ended.
Of course, that peace was a relative thing. The Blue Blood still permeated the world, and fiends were still a threat to humanity as their natures drove them. The Curia, too, had been caught up in chaos as its upper structure had collapsed. The late Pope Ludegert had kept an iron grip on the reins of power, so as to better use the Curia to serve her own agenda, and her mysterious disappearance (rather less mysterious to those who'd been caught up in the events of a year ago) had left a gaping void in the power structure that there had been a rush to fill. Just how much she had kept out of the hands of her so-called senior advisors had been revealed when entire branches of the organization had come forth that other branches hadn't even known existed.
Simon had gotten a number of calls from the various self-proclaimed candidates for leadership, seeking his aid or his insight, but he'd demurred to them all. He liked his quiet existence on Ruswal, maintaining the excellence of the Hotel Ende. And if Ruswal was a bit too close to Eternal Night these days, well, the plain fact of it was that he had better tolerance for the directness of demons' passions than for the twisted connivances of human authority.
That said, he didn't expect for one to come calling, particularly when he was taking out a bag of garbage behind the hotel kitchen.
"Good evening, Mr. Manager," caroled a childish voice from above him. Simon snapped his gaze up and around. His skills had ebbed somewhat since his days in the field, but he hadn't thought a creature of the Blue Blood could so easily get that close to him.
"Or should I say, good evening, Mr. Curia Agent." This time the voice was lower, steadier...and came from ground level behind him.
The slightly built girl in blue, wearing a half-mask decorated in angel feathers, walked past him.
"Christophorus," Simon said.
"You remember me!" She clapped her hands and pirouetted.
"I would be a poor hotelier if I didn't remember our only pureblood demon guest."
Christophorus turned to face him. Her mask was black now, crowned by tiny devil horns.
"Hardly the only one. After all, She stayed there for quite some time, and then there was...oh, but that isn't something you ever knew, is it?"
"If I don't know, would I be able to tell you that I don't know?"
Chris giggled.
"Well, I should hope so!"
Her voice leveled out from the laugh, mask switching once again.
"After all, I've come here to ask you a question, Mr. Curia Agent."
"If so, then you may be disappointed. I've retired from the Curia."
"Don't they own this hotel? You'd have to work for them in that case."
He smiled thinly.
"I think they own it, but in truth they've had quite a time trying to figure out exactly how they do. It seems that the late Pope Ludegert set up a series of shell companies to disguise the Curia's interest in the Hotel Ende from local authority, and no one can quite trace back exactly where the top of the chain reaches. It's a tower of interconnected businesses vanishing into the clouds as it were, its top as good as hiding up with the First Saint."
Christophorus's eyes narrowed behind her devil mask.
"That sounds very much like you know most of what really happened last year."
She laughed and clapped her hands again.
"Which is good, because you'll be able to answer my question!"
"Providing information to guests is one of the duties of a hotel manager," Simon noted.
"Well then, you certainly remember last month, when that girl came back to Ruswal."
"You mean Lilysse, I assume?"
"I do! The one who She loves beyond anyone else...but not, I think, beyond all measure, for She was too selfish to send her away again."
Simon smiled.
"I had a feeling that something like that happened, when she disappeared again almost as soon as she'd arrived. I'm happy that they found each other again."
"But why are you happy, is the question?" Chris's voice was pointed.
He blinked.
"I'm not sure that I understand your meaning."
"Then, an example might be needed! Ta-da!" She spun and bowed, and extended a covered silver serving tray towards him. He didn't spend too much time on trying to figure out where she'd been keeping it. She plucked the lid off with a flourish, revealing six...
...well, they were vaguely cupcake-shaped, but actually implying that they were edible would have been an insult to starving people everywhere.
"She really hasn't gotten any better, has she," Simon concluded.
"Now tell me, Mr. Curia Agent, did your organization deliberately send their former priestess back to Ruswal, knowing that she would seek to be reunited with the Nightlord, so that her poisonous touch could innocently wreak the final destruction of Eternal Night?"