Hello.
Here is the chapter 11. I said I was going to publish it in may, but I may(haha) have been overwhelmed by revision for an exam. So I was a bit late on my schedule.
This chapter wraps the Grumb arc, with the debriefing of the event of the last chapter. Next chapter will be the start of the Lancre arc.
I do not own either the Discworld or Familiar of zero.
hope you enjoy this chapter.
Death's home was a strange place. To begin with, whoever made it seemed to have a very personal interpretation of distances and proportions. It took a few minutes traverses the "living" room, but you could cross the hallway in two steps. If this house was anywhere near Ankh-Morpork, peoples would assume it was made by "Bloody Stupid" Johnson. But it was one of Death's attempt at creating something. Like most others, it was black and white, for Death was not able to understand the purpose of color in interior decoration. Still, there was something about this house that seemed incredible. After all, Death's creations were the greatest proofs that one could rise above their condition.
Death was looking at his collection of hourglasses, taking the ones he needed for his next trip. He walked among the shelf, looking around despite already knowing where everything was. There was nothing that could surprise him. Therefore his surprise was even greater when he saw the abnormality. One of the hourglasses was oddly colored. It looked like it was covered in black ink as if someone painted it all over. But the most worrying thing was the absence of sound. He could not hear any sand grain falling inside. It was as if the hourglass had stopped. Or perhaps something obstructed his perceptions of it.
He took the hourglass with him and kept going. He barely took three steps before finding another one in the same condition. He reached for it without making a sound.
"SQUEAK."
Death turned himself to look at the grim squeaker, his counterpart for rodents. The creature held a tiny hourglass covered in ink as if it wanted to show it to him.
"YES, I TOO HAVE THE SAME PROBLEM."
"SQUEAK."
"PERHAPS. BUT SHE MIGHT REFUSE."
"SQUEAK!"
"THAT WOULD BE ABDUCTION. AND IT WOULD NOT END WELL FOR YOU."
The two metaphorical incarnations looked at each other, the Death of rat seeming to think with intensity behind the two glowing blue orbs that were its eyes. They maintained the situation for a few minutes, before being interrupted by Albert, the house butler.
"Is this a bad moment sir?"
"NO ALBERT, IN FACT, IT IS A MINOR CONCERN."
"Oh? Well, that's good to hear. Anyway, you have a visitor. A very special visitor."
The distinction between Death's manor and Igor's infirmary was the smell. There was almost no odor at the grim reaper's place. Meanwhile, Igor's laboratory was perfumed by the smell of drugs, heated metals, and of course disinfecting alcohol. If you entered blindfolded, you might believe you were in a torture chamber from the smell alone. But it was just the watch medical center.
Louise kept looking at Igor with a mixture of fear, disgust, and curiosity (1). This "man" was like a human puzzle, but one where the player had no concern for the appearance of the final result. Igor did not have a reassuring appearance. Still, Louise felt like she could trust him, for some reason. Besides, he had only been polite with her from the instant they met.
She had been told by an officer to stay in Igor's infirmary and to wait for Vimaire to come back. But the commander still had not shown himself. It was not probable that he forgot about her, he seemed pretty angry in the warehouse. So right now, she was waiting for her scolding, sitting on a bed in the infirmary.
Next to her were Sunny and the other woman, both unconscious. Igor had begun to treat them as soon as they arrived, doing his damn best to heal their wound. And his damn best was downright supernatural. Louise could not believe that someone could cure wound faster than a water mage with only a bottle of alcohol and a few metal tools. If she told this to her sisters, they would call her crazy. Then again, this was true for many things she saw in Ankh-Morpork.
"Tell me, sir Igor, are they going to be fine?" She asked, trying to cut short the silence. She already knew the answer to her question. They would both survive. They were in good hands.
"No thir with me, mith Valierre. I am but a thimple Igor. Anyway, it theem that they will thurvive their wounds. Thothe were imprethiveth injurieth, but nothing life-threatening."(2)
"Really? I'm not that familiar with injuries, so I hardly had a frame of reference."
"Well, the reporter juthte moved a vertebra. Nothing too worrying, I can ficth that eathily." He looked at Andrea, sleeping on one of the bed. "She will be walking tomorrow." He turned toward Sunny. She was also asleep, but her leg was in bad condition. "Thunny, however, ith far more contherning. Grumb probably tried to dithlocate her leg, but this idiot only broke her femur near the hipbone. This ith what happens when peopleth don't bother to thudy medethine before trying this kinda of moveth." He groaned in annoyance. "Other than that, she hath multipleth hematoma on her body, Ethpethialy around her neck. I do not need to athk what it wath. I can recognithe the markth of a thtrangulation."
Louise acquiesced to Igor report. She was not one familiar with the medical language, but she knew enough to understand that both of the women would be fine. This information was reassuring her.
"You know, mith Valiere, I can thee that you have good handth. Long thlender fingerth, they would be perfect for a thurgeon." Igor pointed the tip of his scalpel toward her hand resting on the bed.
"I'm flattered by the compliment, Igor, but I never intended to work this profession."
"Well, it'th no worry, miss Valiere. Loothe thome, get thome as they thay. But if thith ith okay with you, I know more than a few niethes, couthin, and nephew that could uthe thuch handth."
"Igor, I am not interested in an apprenticeship, even if I do not doubt your family skills in the domain." So the members of his family were all surgeons. It made sense. Igor's impressive skills in non-magical medicine could only be due to generations of studies and improvements.
"You mithunderstood me. I was athking if I could give your hands to them. After you are finished uthing them, of courthe."
Louise remained silent a minute. He just asked her if he could keep her hands after her death. That was the strangest demand anybody ever had for her. And the creepiest too.
"You mean after I die?"
"Why, yeth of courthe. I am not going to take thomeone'th organs if they thtill need them. That would be unprofethional."
She kept staring at him, with a mixture of shock and indignation. How could he even make such demand? Did this man had no shame? She prepared herself to give Igor a piece of her mind when a dwarf entered the room.
"Igor, please stop pestering this young girl." Said the dwarf. She wore... Was it she? The clothing on the dwarf was very feminine, with a leather skirt and heels. It was a sort of armored dress. Maybe that was what dwarf women wore here. She was not familiar with the dwarven culture, so she could not know. Still, Louise was going to bet on this dwarf being a woman.
"Ah, Sergeant Littlebottom. I thuppothe the Commander returned?"
"Yes. I am to bring Louise to his office. As well as taking your report on her conditions and that of the other." Igor began to search in his paperwork for his medical report. While he was at it, the sergeant kept talking, in a somewhat friendlier manner. "Did you have a problem with the accent? Sometimes peoples who are not familiar with it don't understand it."
"No problems, Cheery. Thith ith a thmart young girl, she inthtantly underthtood it." Answered Igor, before giving her three sheets of papers with the medical report of Louise, Sunny and Andrea.
"Good." Cheery turned herself to face Louise. "Miss Valliere, I am Sergeant Littlebottom. If you would please follow me, Commander Vimaire is waiting for you." She said formally. But Louise could not help but be surprised by her name. Littlebottom? She felt like the sergeant was making fun of her, And she did not like it. She followed her outside the room, in silent indignation. The prospect of the incoming conversation with Vimaire did nothing to help her fool mood.
(1) She was surprised that curiosity was the most prominent component.
(2) All Igorth speakth with a lithp.
Death was also in a fool mood. Well, not really, he was merely mildly annoyed, but this is rare for him. Death just showed up unannounced at Death's home, and Death was disappointed at Death for not following the proper protocol for this kind of visit. Death excused himself by saying that it was an emergency, but Death found this excuse flimsy at best. (3)
Albert looked from his master to the visitor, and from the visitor to his master, and from his master to the visitor again. But already it was impossible to say which was which, provided you were the kind of people that do not make a distinction between a man and a pig (4). And Albert had not founded the Unseen University in his youth by being unobservant. He could clearly see the difference between the two death. His master had a sharper jawline, as in his jaw bone could be used to draw 90° angles. Meanwhile, the visitor had longer canine, slightly so. The ocular holes of his master were smaller, while the visitor had a more narrow nose hole. Their clothing was also different. Both wore the same kind of cloak, but his master's cloak was pure black, instead of midnight blue(5). Finally, the omegas on each of there cloak were of a different shade of silver. To an untrained eye, there was very little to differentiate the two. But it was not a problem for Albert.
His master spoke. "YOU SAY THIS IS AN EMERGENCY. IS THIS ONE OF THOSE EMERGENCIES?" The blue light in his eyes lost a bit of its shine, the same as how a gaze loose intensity when one squint.
"YES. IT IS ONE OF THOSE EMERGENCIES."
"OH. SO I GUESS YOU CAME HERE TO GIVE ME THE HOURGLASS THEN?"
"CORRECT." Said Death2, as he handed a small hourglass filled with black sand, and resting
on a silver pedestal. Albert had worked as Death servant that he could learn a lot about a person by looking at their hourglass. If he recalled well, unusual coloration of the sand determined a peculiar magical ability. The silver pedestal was harder to determine. Either the person was a noble of medium to high status, but still inferior to a king, or there was something about them that was secret. Possibly both.
"BY THE WAY, WE HAD A DISFUNCTIONEMENT IN SOME OF OUR HOURGLASSES." Death pulled out of his cloak one of the strange hourglasses, still covered in black ink. "DID YOU EVER SAW SOMETHING SIMILAR IN YOUR WORLD?"
Death2 took a long look at the hourglass. Concerns appeared within his eyes, darkening the turquoise light inside. "NO, I HAVE NOT. BUT THAT DOES SEEM CONCERNING."
Albert also took a look at the hourglass. Magical powers that could impair Death's hourglasses were not common. And also dangerous. Incredibly so.
He could see that this was not the kind of magic wizards use. It seemed more, if he dared, witch-like. It smelt (6) an awful lot like those spells the witches use to control the narrative. But this version carried wickedness that even a witch rotten to the core would find despicable. It was not the kind of magic Albert wanted to face.
"INDEED IT IS. WE HAVE TWO HUMAN HOURGLASSES, 732 RAT HOURGLASSES AND 111 342 PARASITE HOURGLASSES IN THIS CONDITION."
"I SEE." Death2 wondered if he should give hand in this matter. While it was not advised for two deaths to work together, there were no rules against it. And this matter seemed like something that needed to be dealt with as soon as possible. But he was busy in his world. The disappearance of the young Valliere had kicked in a chain of event that made a mess of Halkeginia. Her mother and the princess had been convinced by the pope that the elves were behind the disappearance. The humans were preparing for a new holy war, and it promised to be bloody. He needed to be there for it, because what would he be without his professionalism. "I CANNOT HELP YOU IN THIS MATTER. BUT IF I FIND SOMETHING ABOUT IT IN MY WORLD, I WOULD LET YOU KNOW."
"THANK YOU."
"I'LL BE ON MY WAY NOW. NONE OF US CAN BE ALLOWED TO BE LATE ON HIS SCHEDULE."
"YES"
"YES"
Death2 turned away from Death and walked out of the house, not bothering to open the door before stepping outside. Only Death, the Death of rats, and Albert remained in the office.
"So this is one of your colleagues?"
"YES, ALBERT. HE IS THE DEATH IN ANOTHER WORLD."
"It's reassuring to know that every world works the same way."
"THEY DO NOT."
"Well, sir..." Albert started, pointing at the ink covered hourglass. "... it seems like we have a problem to deal with."
Death lifted the hourglass to take a good look at it. "WE? ARE YOU TREATING MY RESPONSIBILITIES AS YOURS AS WELL?"
"Nothing that dramatic sir." Albert puffed on his cigarette before continuing. "But any problem you might have in your work is a problem to all living thing."
Still holding the hourglass, Death looked at his servant. What Albert said was true. If something was disrupting his work, it was probably a threat to all form of life. But not many humans wanted to understand it.
He put back the hourglass in his cloak. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA OF WHAT IT IS?"
Albert took a long inspiration. "It's not what we mages are familiar with, but it felt to me like it was similar to some witches magic. Maybe that is where we should search first."
"WITCHES." Witches were always hard to deal with. Unlike mages, they were cunning, and more often than not, you could not get anything out of them without giving something first. Even him was not above it. "I WILL GO ASK ONE ABOUT IT THEN. ON MY WAY BACK. AND YOU ALBERT, GO SEARCH IN BIOGRAPHIE ABOUT THIS KIND OF MAGIC." He put one of the hourglasses on the table. "I LEAVE YOU ONE HOURGLASS AS A REFERENCE." He turned away, advanced toward the exit, opened the door, exited the mansion, and closed the door behind him.
Albert stayed silent a minute, smoking and looking at the ceiling. A dark parody of the witches magic? This was not just concerning, but downright horrifying. Witches magic is already scary, messing with your head, and even your place in the world. Do go even darker from here is a grim exploit.
He began to walk toward the library. The best place to start the search was the life of the darkest witch to ever lived. Alice Demurrage, also known as black Alice, was the most likely to have a lead. He really wanted to start with another dark witch, like Marry the skinner or Child-tooth Lucia. They were far less scary, and their life was far less horrifying. But if someone knew about this magic, it was most likely Alice.
With a hesitation, Albert took a book with a black binding of rotten skin. This was not going to be pleasant.
(3) If you have not realized, Death received the visit of another death. To make thing easier, Death who own the house will be referred as Death and the other as Death2. Also, Death2 sentences will be in Italic, to differentiate their speeches.
(4) They both go from black to pink, they both tend to be noisy, and they both eat anything. But one has little body odor(4.1), and the other is an ape. To the embarrassment of all the other apes.
(4.1) You may not believe me, but the bad odor associated with pig come from the environment in which they live. The pigs themselves have very little body odor and are very clean. But human keep them in small places where waste the pigs get dirty. So not only human stink, but they make others stink.
(5) Black, but bluer.
(6) Not actual smell, mind you. More of an impression.
"So is it death by drowning? Or buried alive?" Said Vimaire, his words filled with mockery. So Grumb had died in his attempt to run away. It was fine for him. Sure, he felt an inch of guilt for not bringing the man to justice. But the watch is not to blame for the mistake of a criminal. Not this sort of mistakes, anyway.
"We are waiting for the autopsy. Depending on whether Grumb died by suffocation or by ingestion of fluid, it'll be one or the other." Angua was standing next to Vimaire desk. She watched her superior read the report she just brought him.
Vimaire frowned. This report held the name of the seventeen victims of Grumb. Most of them were peoples who could barely protect themselves. Some were ill while others were elderly. Had the watch not intervened, he might have killed a child.
Still, there was something abnormal in this report. Most of the victims of the killer were unrelated between them, safe from their weakness. But among the alleged victims were two cousins, Charlie and Etienne Gloomsay. They were both healthy peoples with an active social life. Not the kind of victims Grumb enjoy. And besides, they both lived far away from the districts where Grumb found the majority of his victims.
There are two kinds of disappearances in Ankh-Morpork. The first is the "official" disappearance. Someone "disappears", with or without consent, but the guild of assassins, the guild of thieves or the diverse underground organizations of the city are well aware of where the person is. And whether they will be staying permanently. For this reasons, if the watch is investigating a disappearance, they will first ask the guilds about it. If the answer is "You should not put your nose where it does not belong.", then they know who is behind the affair.
But if even the guilds do not know, this is a true disappearance, and the watch needs to investigate with more vigor. All of Grumb alleged victims were of this category, so the watch assumed that he was behind all the disappearance that happened recently. What if there was another killer that the watch overlooked?
"Angua, do we know what mean of locomotion Grumb had?"
"None sir. He had no vehicle or mount. Why?"
"How long does it take, on foot, to reach Elm street from Hopper street? On foot I mean." He looked Angua in the eyes.
"For a human, the fastest you can do is at best one hour, if you got some good stamina." She suddenly realized the implication. "Grumb would not have traveled such a long distance to kill one person, is that what you mean?"
"Yes. Grumb stayed around Hopper street and only left after realizing he was found out. All of his victims, safe two, lived in about 20 minutes of Hopper street. Elm Street and Mollymog street are too far away. And those two were cousins. It is way too much coincidence to make me comfortable." All during his explanation, he kept looking at the report. "Of course, it is possible that both of the cousins went to Hopper street and got killed there. But they were not the typical victims of Grumb. But we need to find what really happened."
Angua looked at him, surprised. "We? Sir, you and Carotte are going to Lancre in a few days. You have to prepare the travel, plus deal with this little girl, what's her name? Lucie?"
"Louise?"
"Yeah, Louise. Anyway, you cannot spend time on such a small case."
Vimaire looked grimly at the invitation to the birthday of the princess of Lancre. He really wanted to take care of this case, but he could not run away from this responsibility, especially for a theory that could very well be wrong. But it was a priority to know if there was another killer on the loose. A non-licenced killer.
"Angua, you live at Ms. Cake? And so does Reg?"
"Well yeah, but what does it have to do with... OH!" She recalled that Ms. Cake's home was on Elm street. That made her understood what Vimaire was expecting from her and Reg. "I will tell Reg to help me in this case. I suppose you want to avoid the information to go out?"
"Of course. If there is really another killer than it is better if he thinks we ignore his existence. I will give the both of you leaves, and you will ask around. Keep it discreet."
"Will do, sir."
She said while saluting. The sound of her helmet was followed by knockings at the door. "It seems that Lucie as arrived. I will let you handle it, sir." She moved to the door and Opened to a nervous Louise accompanied by Cheery.
The blond woman stepped out of the room, gave Louise an encouraging smile, saluted Littlebottom, and disappeared in the corridor. Louise could not shake the feeling of deja-vu. She had already seen this woman, but she could not remember where. And for some reason, when she tried to recall, she could only think of a dog.
Well, it hardly mattered. She was going to be chewed off by Vimaire, and it was not going to be a pleasant experience. She had blatantly disobeyed him, broke out of his house, and almost got herself killed. That, and she was not sure that he would consider her actions helpful to the rescue of Sam. He was probably going to say that the watch had it under control, that she only made thing harder for them. With all of that, there was a high chance that Vimaire refuse to keep her anymore. And she doubted that there were many peoples that the patrician would entrust her to. Maybe she would be sent to stay with the mages, but she would prefer to stay with more "rational" peoples.
Littlebottom patted Louise shoulder in a comforting manner. She had been kind enough to try to reassure the young girl after they left Igor's Infirmary. But Louise had trouble seeing a kind man in Vimaire. This man had been rude to her, and so far had not shown much sympathy in the week she spent with him. Maybe he was only kind to his friends and family. But not to her.
She took a deep breath and stepped into the room. Vimaire was rearranging his paperwork, which flooded his table abundantly, and the majority of the room as well. He did not look at her, so Louise assumed he was making her wait. She took a look at his office. It was small, badly lit by a few candles in glass jars, and full of old forgotten papers. Nothing like what she expected from a commander.
"You know, you can advance to my desk without me asking. Or are you hoping that I will forget about you?" Vimaire brought her attention back to him. She advanced, her head lowered. "What were you thinking? I mean really, what were you thinking?" She waited for him to carry on, but the silence made her understand that it was not a rhetorical question.
"I, uh, I was hoping that I could help with rescuing your son."
"But of course. You, a teenager without formation, could do better than the whole watch. This was obvious from the get-go. Why did I refuse your services from the beginning?" This much sarcasm could have melted stone, and it stung Louise in the wound of her pride. She was the subject of many mockeries, and even in another world, she was still looked down upon.
"I did arrive before your men. I found Sam first. So yes, you were wrong about not letting me help."
"Congratulation. You arrived first, and you had to be saved by a watchwoman. She sustained quite a lot of injuries if I recall. So before you explode with pride, remember that Sunny would be in far better shape if you had left it to us."
"But..."
"What? you're going to tell me that you could have escaped Grumb alone?" His glare could have pierced her head.
"No." She admitted.
Vimaire sighted. "We do not accept the help of untrained peoples in those cases exactly because this might happen. They can get caught, and we have to deal with another victim."
Louise kept her head lowered in shame. She wanted to say something. She was not ready to admit that she made everything harder. But she could not come up with a good argument. She is responsible for Sunny's condition, as well as that of the other woman.
Vimaire kept staring at her, waiting for a reaction. " What I don't understand is why? Why did you try so hard to participate. I doubt that you believed that you were better suited for this job than the watch. So why?"
Louise remained silent. She knew why. She hated to admit that she could not do anything. It was this way at the academy, where other students would taunt her, and she took the bait. She kept failing, and the other kept mocking her about it. But even that, she did not want to admit. She could not admit that the reason she tried to save the day was that Vimaire said she couldn't.
"I wanted to be useful." She said. It was not that big of a lie. She really did want to save Sam, but her answer omitted all of her doubts and frustrations. She was not about to show her vulnerability to Vimaire.
The commander stared at her with a doubtful expression. There was something that Louise did not tell. But he quickly let it go. He was a watchman, not an inquisitor. It was not his job to search into peoples heads for bad thought. And Louise's actions were not criminal.
"I'm not convinced, but I'm not gonna dig further. Anyway, I expect you won't do that kind of things again. No more escape, no more disobedience, and no more confrontations with dangerous criminals. And you will present your excuses to Willikins and Purity, for making their job harder."
Louise raised her head in surprise. "You won't throw me out?"
"As long as you agree to do what I just said, I see no reason to do so. If kids were not allowed to make a mess from time to time, they'll never learn. Besides, there are very few peoples who you can trust and who would keep you. I would have to be the lowest of the scum to throw you out." He said, before taking another pile of paperwork from his desk. "I think we have finished here. Go see Drolf, I told him to bring you back to the manor once we are done. You can't miss him, he's a golem. Not many clay person inside the watch."
Louise acquiesced, stood up, and moved toward the door, before stopping. "Mister Vimaire, what happened to Grumb?"
"Oh, that? Yeah, I should tell you. He died. We are hesitating on the cause. Either he drowned, or he buried himself alive. So you won't have to worry about him. Now go, I have a lot of work to do."
Louise obeyed and left the room.
It grew bored of Ankh-Morpork. The rats were easy now, and it was now experimenting the trick on cats. Still, it needed to see something else. The citizens of this city were not the only peoples on the disc, and it wanted to learn more about them. Know your enemy, as the tenant once said.
Speaking of her, she was still resisting. It was surprised by how she kept struggling against the trick. All the rats had given in after a few days. Well, she was not struggling alone, that other one had not shown any sign of weakness since he was tricked. It expected it. After all, it had a little help for this one, so the trick was not perfect back then.
Thinking back to the day of its creation, it brought a ticket for a stagecoach to Uberwald.