A/N: All right, so...this chapter's length ran away with me...a lot. But we do get to see a little of Callisto. Next chapter will resolve our monarch-related issues and so on.
)O(
"My theory is this," Violette leaned in close so they would not be overheard. "You see that fellow over there? That's King Ulysses' new royal adviser. His old one was tossed in the pit because he got in the way or something. Anyway, he claims the king had a lover, and that Ulysses' personal servant knows the identity and location of this woman."
"I thought that was merely a rumor."
"So did I," she admitted. "But the truth serum doesn't lie. It can't."
"What truth serum?"
"The truth serum I put in his drink, of course," Fairley made a mental note to himself not to get on this woman's bad side. "Now, I don't know how this alleged lover fits into the whole scheme yet, but I intend to find out. What made you suspect King Ulysses wasn't himself?"
"Well..." He suddenly realized how flimsy his evidence actually was. "Something just seemed strange about his most recent decree."
"The gold," Violette guessed, frowning.
"Yes, the amounts of it were...staggering."
She nodded. "I think this cousin may be the person we're looking for."
"But why would he leave a trail straight to himself?"
"Simple, honey, he's stupid." Violette said. "Now, I'm going to pay Ulysses' supposed lover a visit. You should dig up whatever you can on our friend William. Meet me at the castle by sunset. Do you know where the spy quarters is? That tower next to the reception hall, opposite the barracks. You can't miss it." Then she was gone.
It didn't take long for Fairley to confirm their suspicions. William didn't just leave a paper trail, but a body trail as well. The rate at which people, mostly innocents, were being sent to the stocks or the pit was increasing at an alarming rate. Looks like Beasty's getting quite the feast, Violette had said. It wasn't entirely pleasant, but he eventually secured the proof needed to reveal the usurper's identity. All that was left was to be rid of him and find King Ulysses.
Upon entering the "spy quarters" Fairley discovered a rather elaborately decorated guest room befitting a castle. A fireplace full of embers dominated one wall along with an empty golden basin, while a desk took up another across from a soft-looking bed. The bed was unmade, but the rest of this room seemed almost too organized, untouched even. Fairley examined the locked diary on the desk. Violette didn't strike him as the sort of girl who kept a diary.
"It's not mine," Her voice startled him. The diary fell from his hands. "Just something to make this room appear more lived in than it is. Clever, huh? Well, come on upstairs so we can talk privately."
She led him through a door that opened from a blank wall panel and became a set of dark, winding stairs. He was relieved when they finally emerged into an entirely different room. This one was larger, with a crafting table similar to his own, a place to play cards, two practice dummies that appeared worn down from sword-marks, and...Oh Watcher, were those cages? Surely those weren't skeletons...?
"I don't have much as far as chairs."
"I could just stand." he offered.
"No, I'm not that terrible of a hostess. We'll just sit here." She pulled a chair away from the card table and sat down, motioning for him to do the same. Once they were both settled, he told her about the locket and the impostor's failure to recall what was inscribed on it. Everything fit perfectly. William had the motivation, too: envy.
"What did his 'lover' have to say?"
"Oh, it's rich," Violette laughed. "Simone claims she woke up to find Ulysses missing, but if you ask me, she's the reason for it. Poor girl doesn't even know her own story very well. She's a terrible actress. I barely had to put in any effort at all to get this," She held up a leaf. "I'm not sure what it is yet, but I think Simone—"
"It is an ingredient in sleeping draught," Fairley said immediately. "I make it for Callisto all the time."
Violette blinked at him. "But...she's a sorceress! Can't she craft her own potions?"
"You try crafting anything when you haven't slept in three days."
"Good point," she admitted. "So Simone puts a little sleeping draught in Ulysses' drink, he's knocked out, then they hide him somewhere and William is free to take the throne!" There it was, all put together, out in the open. But what to do about it? "I think we both know what must be done."
Fairley ran a hand through his short, dark brown hair. He knew exactly what she meant, but he didn't want to admit it to himself. "You are not suggesting..."
"William needs to die," Violette spoke solemnly, voice low and sure. "You've never killed anyone before."
It wasn't a question. "Not intentionally," he said just as quietly. He remembered every patient ever to die on his operating table, every would-be mother who didn't survive childbirth for one reason or another. Fairley dreaded the prospect of taking a life on purpose. Watcher knew he already had enough guilt for those he'd killed by accident.
"Then I'll do it," Violette stood up and walked over to her crafting table, picking up the mortar and pestle. "You look exhausted. Go downstairs, get some sleep. I'll be fine here. I need concentration anyway."
"But—" It seemed terribly rude to take her bed.
"I'll be fine." she insisted. Reluctantly, Fairley descended the staircase in the wall once again. He lay there for a while, staring blankly at the ceiling, his mind spinning with thoughts of the fantastically weird woman. Finally, he managed to drift off into a light sleep, dreamless. When Fairley woke up, it took him a moment to remember where he was. Then he remembered Violette was still up there, crafting her poison. And although he didn't want to disturb her, it seemed more rude not to at least ask if she needed anything.
She was lying on her side, asleep on the ground. It didn't look comfortable at all, or particularly good for her, in his professional opinion. He couldn't simply leave her there, could he? Of course not. So Fairley carefully picked the girl up, which wasn't difficult since she weighed almost nothing. Violette's eyes fluttered open as he carried her down the stairs.
"Hmm?" she asked sleepily.
"You were sleeping on the floor," Fairley explained. "I am taking you to bed."
"Mmm..." Her eyes fell shut again and she rested her head against his shoulder. There was a thin smile on her lips. Violette looked like a child when she slept, a child with a knife under her pillow.
)O(
Fairley returned to his clinic and absently kept himself busy. He examined patients, but today's case load was surprisingly light. Then he researched symptoms, crafted potions, even collected leeches on the beach. It never occurred to him that he was unknowingly waiting for Violette.
"Surgeon Fairley?" Callisto called out from the doorway. She wore a long, rather fancy, blue dress that exposed her throat and most of her chest. Her pale face was framed by thin blond hair, cut short, a look that worked for Violette but not for someone so feminine. He could still see slight dark circles beneath Callisto's eyes.
"Ah...Greetings."
"Are you okay? You got home quite late last night." Sometimes he forgot she actually lived in the cold, vacant-looking tower next to his clinic. Callisto generally kept to herself; it took her months to come to him for a sleeping draught. At first there had been some tension between them, for he was a man of science and she a lady of magic. But their goal was ultimately the same: helping people, even if their methods differed greatly.
"I'm all right, thank you," he replied. "And how do you fare? Have you been sleeping well?"
Callisto pursed her lips and shook her head. "I fear I've become...somewhat dependent on the potions."
"There is no shame in taking medicine you need." he told her. Then Fairley went to get the potion, and when he returned Callisto was sitting in a chair. She was crying but tried to hide it.
"I'm sorry..."
"No, no, I understand," He offered her a handkerchief to dry her eyes as well as the sleeping draught. "You are exhausted...emotional."
"Thank you, Physician."
"We're neighbors," He smiled slightly. "Please call me Alexander."
"As you wish, Alexander." The sorceress got up to leave, but he had one more thing he wanted to say.
"Callisto?"
She turned toward him. "Yes?"
"Pleasant dreams."
