Well, here comes the chapter 14. I got much slower in my work due to my studies, but I was still able to finish it.
As usual, if you have reviews or if you see a mistake, don't hesitate to comment on it.
Anyway, have a good read.
I do not own either Familiar of Zero or the Discworld.
Everything was calm in this little flat. It was old and a bit dirty, but safe from a few prints in the dust, there was nothing that could make you think no one had used it for a long time. The biggest movement of the still air inside was merely a few spiders running after their unfortunate prey, or centipedes coming out of the damp wood they nested.
The oppressing silence of the flat was disturbed when the door moved slightly. All the insects stared at it for a few seconds before going back into hiding. Someone was turning the key inside.
Two watch agents entered, followed by the owner of this flat.
"I tell you, sergeant. She was a nice young lady that just wanted to stay here a few days. She introduced herself as Tris Fen. That sounded like a foreign name, and, well, she was…" He chose his words carefully."... she was dark-skinned, so I assumed she was from Genua and was just new to the city." Said the portly man, visibly annoyed by this investigation.
Angua groaned. She had successfully followed the trail of the notebook thief, which led her right here. But the suspect had already left.
Looking at the marks, it seemed like this woman had left only a few days ago. But what was abnormal was the lack of anything. The bed was left untouched, the window remained closed, and the only place where anybody had stayed still was the chair near the table. Most peoples in this kind of lodging eat and live outside, but at this point, this was clearly abnormal. It reinforced her theory of a supernatural problem.
It's out of the jurisdiction of the watch, she thought. We don't deal with this kind of thing, it's the mages jobs to do so. On the other hand, she could already hear Vimes telling her that even with magic and other weird things, a criminal was still a criminal. Besides, there were already many magical creatures in the watch. She was even one of them. They had stopped an affaire about golems and their ancient magic when she just started this job. So, of course, this case was there to see through.
"Mr. Baker, it seems you have been tricked. But this is an important matter. Can you describe this woman in more detail?"
The man stopped to think about. What did she look like again? She was a woman, yes. With brown hair. And… And… An empty cloak? No, of course not. Why did he think of a floating, empty cloak? But he really could not recall what she looked like. Huh, weird.
"I'm sorry, sergeant. Apart from the fact she was a brown-haired woman, I can't remember much. I'm not very good at recalling what peoples look like."
"Tch. Reg, you got anything."
The zombie was looking under the bed and answered without standing up. "Nothing for now. Well, a few roaches, but apart from that, nothing."
"Roaches? You must jest, I'm not the kind of crook that lodge peoples in pest infested flat." Lied Mr. Baker.
"Sir, do you have anything that could be useful? Do you remember her mentioning something about where she wanted to go? Anything?"
He dug inside his memory for a minute. "Ha… Yes, I think. I saw her with a pamphlet of the A.M.D.C (1). I thought she was preparing to go back home."
So she left the city? That could be bad. "I see. Well, it's better than nothing. I'll take it from here, constable" She said to her coworker. "You go to the seat of the A.M.D.C, and ask them where each diligence went in the last… When you last saw her, ?"
"Two days ago."
So right after Grumb was taken care of, huh. Maybe it scared her off. She turned again to face her associate. "You ask for a list of all the stop of every coach and diligence that left since two days ago. Then you bring a copy to Carotte, and you send a clack to the authority of each of those countries to warn them that a criminal has potentially entered their land." She stopped for a moment. "Also, warn InterTroll.(2) They might be useful for this."
"I'm on it," he answered as he left the room.
"You can leave to, . I'm going to search for a bit, I won't be long." The owner prepared to say something, but a quick glare made him understand it was not an option. He groaned before closing the door.
Alone in the dark, Angua did not bother to open the window. Her investigation method barely needed light. She took a deep inspiration and focused on what her nose was telling her. A werewolf nose is quite powerful. Even in human form, it's basically a second vision, one that allows you to perceive what happened before. Of course, it was even more impressive when she was in wolf form, but right now it was hardly necessary. Even a human could have perceived that if they focused a bit. The odor of low-quality ink had filled the room. The odor of pig grease and soot mixed together, the kind of ink you could buy by the litter for barely fifteen $AM. But where the odor was the most intense was on the chair. There was an 'imprint' of the person. They stayed so long that the smell had seeped through the air and into the occupied space itself. Even a tornado would not dissipate it.
What kind of creature was it? She'd never heard of anything like that, even at Mrs. Cake's.
(1)Ankh-Morpork Diligence Corporation.
(2)inspired by the Watch of Ankh-Morpork, some troll, with the support of their king Mr shine, decided to make a common organization among every troll, that served to track criminals no matter where they went. although, since it was only starting, and their base uniform included a club so heavy that only a troll could lift it, there were heavily understaffed. But still, they had one or two agents in a lot of countries. Some state even recognized them as an actual legal crime-fighting group. Ankh Morpork treated them more like a weird mob, but that was at least willing to work with them.
Nanny Ogg watched the coach approach the small town, or rather a big village, with a careful eye. Those were city peoples. They were weird. Of course, she knew that they had been invited and that this Vimes was actually quite the character. But she was not at ease with what she perceived with the shamble was not reassuring. She was on edge, which was ironic for an edge witch (3) such as her. Worse, Esme, her friend, and fellow witch had still not come to talk with her about what she had seen. She mentioned it to Magrat, but the young queen was too busy to do any witchy stuff. Agnes had been warned and was ready for anything, but she really needed a third witch. Witches work by three. Otherwise, it doesn't work.
Her youngest son, Shawn (4) approached the coach in his postman uniform. He had not had enough time to change to his Herald clothes, apparently. He fixed a bit his hat, readied himself to open the door, but before he could even touch the handle, it opened from the inside and the occupant went out. First, there was a middle-aged to aged man in an old watch armor. Was that Vimes? Nanny Ogg expected a man in more pompous clothes. The man then helped an imposing and tall lady to get out. Was she his wife? Well, looking at how he looked at her, she was lucky to have him. And the opposite was true. A nice couple. Then came out their son. A cute kid, for sure, the kind that would always find their way in whimsical painting.
But Nanny Ogg was quite surprised when she saw another kid, or rather teenager came out of the coach. She wore a rather conventional dress, with her hairs seemingly tied in a bun under a hat. Mmm. Curious, she never heard of the Vimes having another child, much less an older one. And the commander did not seem like the kind to cheat on his wife. Who was that girl? She needed to know more. She made a sign for one of her great-grandchildren to approach.
"Well, Matthew, come give great grandma a kiss, would you."
The kid barely made her wait. She spent a lot of time spoiling her grandkids and great-grandkids so any of them would come running the instant she called them. She grabbed him a hug
"Ah, I'm sorry, dear. I'm out of candies. But I'm sure this city girl must have come with a lot for the birthday." She whispered to him. While he made an effort to not look at the said girl, it was clear that he wanted the candies, and he would get them by any means. Nanny Ogg would just have to wait for him to 'recruit' his friend, and she would soon see the children attacking the girl like a swarm of bees on a bear.
(3) A witch that supervise edges. All edges, as in boundaries. Between life and death, light and dark, good and evil, etc…
(4) Son of Sobriety Ogg, who died a good ten year before his son birth. Don't question it.
"Well, now we arrived, Louise. Is it like you imagined?" Asked Sybil.
The young noble looked around. It looked like your typical mountain village, with a castle in the background. She had to admit that the mountain was quite the sight, but apart from that, it was not as impressive as she expected. It was, however, a step up from Ankh-Morpork. No more rotting building, stinky streets and no more disgusting 'meat' sausage sold by suspicious merchants. She also got the feeling there were fewer criminals here, but on the short time she spent in the twin city, she learned that people could surprise you by being worse than they appeared. Sometimes better, but often worse.
Still, definitely a step up. She took a deep breath. Yup, no more the air had the odor of cabbage, like in the Sto Plains. Now it carried the musk of… goats? Let's hope it's goat. Anyway, while the smell was not pleasant, she liked some diversity in the suffering inflicted upon her nose. But seriously, how come this mountain smell so much of goat? Is it why it's named the Ramtop?
"A bit different, but so was Ankh-Morpork. I'm getting used to surprise." She finally answered. This made Sybile chuckle
"I get what you mean."
Louise smiled. It was not likely that Sybil understood the constant state of contrariety and surprise she had been since she came to this world. Now that she thought about it, she was not sure of how much she missed her old one. Sure, she liked her family, but the constant bullying of her classmate was not something she wanted back.
"Candies."
Hmm, true, the candy on her world was a bit lacking compared to some that Ankh-Morpork had to offer. The Weinrich and Boettcher 'chocolate'(5) that Sybil had given her were truly exquisite. But she still had no idea of what was the plant used to make such delicacy. If she ever goes back, she will need to find those.
"CANDIES!"
She already thought of that. What else could be considered a step up from her previous life?
"CANDIES! CANDIES! CANDIIIIIIIEEEEESSS!"
"LOUISE, WATCH OUT!" She heard Vimes shout as the sound of a dozen little feet approached. She barely had the time to turn toward her assailant before she was submerged by a horde of hungry children, the oldest looking no more than six.
"CANDIES! CANDIES! CANDIES!" They kept screaming, swarming around the girl like a pack of wild animals. One began to climb on her back to see if she hid any candies in her hat. Another, unable to resist his hunger, took a bite at her leg. The rest, calmer, simply pulled her in every direction, shaking her in hope of the candies falling out of her clothes.
"Stop! Stop! Leave me alone, you little…" The insult got stuck in her throat, halted by the feeling of a disapproving stare coming from the old lady in the corner. Louise opted for a less violent one, expressed in a friendly manner. "...Rascal?" Well, the old lady barely reacted, so that was okay, it seemed. As she fought for control over her hat, she turned to the commander."Si.. Vimes, can you help me?"
He merely chuckled. "From that? You've been against bigger than them."
The kid stuck on her back looked at her pink hair with curiosity, having successfully removed the hat from the head. "Her hair's pink! Why's your hair's pink?"
"Her hair's candy." Said another child. His friend stopped an instant to look at him like if they saw a saint. Then, the one on Louise back promptly took a bite at the hair.
"OWWW. Vimes, please, I'm not capable of fending off a dozen … Kids."
"Fine, fine. Detritus, can you take one for the team?"
"Yes, sir."
"Okay, make sure your helmet stay stuck on your head. But without violence." He turned toward Louise. "You sure you can't take it yourself?"
"PLEEAASE!" Now the kids were angrily kicking her legs with their little feet, because her hair was not candy, and that was treason.
He sighed. "Hey, kids. Our candies are inside the troll helmet. But you gotta take them yourself."
All the children stared at Detritus, the troll holding his helmet by putting his hand over it. An adult would have understood that removing the hand would be almost impossible, but doubt was not in the children's mind, and they jumped from Louise to the troll. He did not seem to give any care or worry about the kids climbing on his back.
"See Louise, take example on Detritus. He takes all that with a stonelike stoicism." Vimes began to chuckle at his joke. He noted to keep that one for another time.
"Haha, Hilarious. Very nice pun, but those kids really did a number on me. Look" She showed her ankle, where the sock showed the marks of deciduous teeth. "But thank you." Her words were earnest, but she looked away, still a bit vexed of the joke.
From her chair, Nanny Ogg had seen the whole scene. Obviously, since she instigated it. "Pink hair." Well, that was unusual. It seemed the city folk invented a new weird form of deviancy. It was incredible how easily they created new vogue that made no sense. Well, if it was only a girl that painted her hair pink, it was hardly something to be worried about. She stood up and went back inside, followed by her cat Greebo. She had a few preparations to make for the party in two days, and she also needed to see Esme and Agnes. A coven reunion was in order.
(5) has already been used to fend off supernatural being. They are that good.
"Quick, I saw them coming. Is everyone ready?" Said King Verence of Lancre. He looked at the staff gathered around him. All the castle was present. Well, most. Mr. Brooks, the beekeeper, was nowhere to be seen, and Hodgesaarg the falconer was still trying to get a buzzard to stop chewing his finger, so he was only physically here."Are the rooms ready? For the Duke and his family. And his men too. And for the additional person, you prepared for that as well, right?"
Mr. Spriggins, the Buttler, sighted. That was the fourth time the king asked this. "Yes, your highness. It has been prepared as you ordered."
The king breathed in a relieved manner, before taking a deep inspiration again. "What about the dinner? Is it…"
"Dear, It's still five in the afternoon. It's way too early to start preparing the dinner." Everyone turned toward the Queen, Magrat Garlick of Lancre. The witch (6), floating in her royal dress designed for someone of greater corpulence, was still able to look regal, although it was a constant effort on her part. "But as soon as they are installed, it would be a good idea to have some tea while we discuss mundane things."
"ah. Ah, yes, excellent idea, dear. Let's do that. Okay, let's go to our post. They'll be here any sec…"
The door of the throne room opened, and entered Shawn Ogg, who under his function as Herald, announced the newcomers: "His Excellency, the Duke of…"
Vimes appeared behind him. "No need for such formality. Let's skip the titles, please."
Shawn groaned. He stayed late at night to learn all the titles, and all this work was pointless. "Sir Samuel Vimes of Ankh-Morpork, and his wife lady Sybil Deirdre Olgivanna Ramkin-Vimes. And their son, the honorable Samuel Vimes 2. And..." What were the young girl's names again? Ah, right: "...Louise Framboise le Banc de la Volière." Pff, as if he would have had any problem remembering it.
"WHAT? That's not my name!" How dare this commoner mispronounce her name. "Did you even try to remember it correctly?"
"Louise Francine le bland de la vallée?"
"Still not right." Jested Vimaire.
Shawn scratched his head. Mmm. The framboise seemed closer to her second name then the Francine. Was it her third name band instead of bland? And her last name sounded a lot like voliere, he was sure of it. Why did she have a foreign name anyway? It's harder to remember, couldn't she just be fine with a normal one?
Sybil exhaled an exasperated sigh. Louise was a good girl, but she could be quite proud, and at this rate, the poor man was going to get a mortal enemy. She took pity on him and whispered in his ear the correct answer.
"LOUISE FRANCOISE LE BLANCHE DE LA VALLIERE!" He abruptly shouted.
"It's le blanc!" Louise calmed down a little, somewhat satisfied that he almost got her name right. "But apart from that, that is indeed my name."
Magrat cleared her throat, calling everyone attention back to the king and queen of Lancre. It took a second for Verence to realize that his wife expected him to talk.
"Welcome, your Excellency. I hope you made a comfortable travel, and that your stay will be as comfortable. I…" He stopped to search in his pocket a piece of paper, and began to read it's content. "we have prepared rooms for your little star honorific corresponding to the guest little star as well as for your servants slash underling slash court slash bodyguards. Our staff will bring you to your room and answer every demand you may have."
"As long as it remains reasonable." Pointed out Magrat.
Louise barely heard her, she was already having a hard time holding out a laugh. The king had just tried to read the annotation on his note. In history books, it's said he was a fool before becoming king, but that was impossible. This was peak comedy, and everyone knows fools and clown are not meant to be funny. It was a constant of the universe or any universe for that matter.
The tired look Magrat gave her was like a cold shower that calmed her down instantly. Again, there was the same feeling as when the old lady had stared at her. There was something unsettling about those women.
Once everyone was in the mood to listen, the queen talked again. "Once you are installed, I propose we take a tea to discuss a few things. Notably, we are interested in the current development happening in the city of Ankh-Morpork. We rarely have the occasion to hear about this from the commander of the watch."
"Sure, Sure, but did you prepare a troll-sized room? Because one of my men is of the stone peoples."
"Yes, we received a letter from the secretary of your patrician to inform us on who was to come."
"Excellent." Sybil looked in the room. "I do not see your daughter. Is she perhaps playing somewhere?"
Verence took a proud look while the Magrat looked at the ceiling, exasperated. Whatever it was about, there was a disagreement in the couple.
"She is studying in her room. Actually, her education is something we would like to talk to you later. She'll probably come down for the tea, however. " Said the king.
"We'll discuss this issue later if you would. Millie, please lead them to their room."
The maid bowed before turning to the guest. "If you could please follow me."
"But of course." Gracefully answered Sybile.
They advanced in the corridor of cold stone, most dimly lit by a few small windows, some other by candles and torches on the wall. But some were completely dark, although they did not use them. Louise guess was that they were probably unused. She had not seen much peoples inside the castle, so it was likely that this big building was understaffed, without enough peoples to take care of all of it. If Shawn cumulation of posts was any indicator, they were really lacking in workforces.
All of this is a bit underwhelming, she thought. She knew Lancre was a small country, but she was expecting it to be more, well, regal, by lack of a better word. The royal family seemed to have reached the throne by accident, and the castle was devoid of the courtesan, nobles, and staff she was expecting.
"We are here." Millie showed the doors of a bunch of rooms. "All are prepared, cleaned, and filled with additional blankets. It can be quite cold at night, especially this season. If you would like something, just find me or Mr. Spriggins. We'll make sure to give it to you."
Louise entered her room. It was much like the corridor, made of cold stone and impersonal as if it had not been used in a long time. Well, at least she had a big window. She wanted to open it, but her room had a fairly neutral smell, and she did not want it to be filled with the odor of goat. Besides, it would probably make the cold air in. She unpacked her things, installing herself in her room. They'll be staying here a few days, so it was best not to leave everything in the luggage.
(6) While she has done very little witching since she got married, she never lost her qualification. You can become a witch, but you can't stop being a witch.
As the moon rose, Richard was trying to keep himself awake. As a coach driver, he could not sleep on the road. He'd have to wait for them to reach an inn for the night.
He sighed. It's been a long journey, from Ankh-Morpork toward Uberwald. This was tiring, but at least the pay was good. Or would have been if he had more customer. A weird woman, a father, and his daughter. That was all. His employer was definitely going to cut his salary for carrying so few peoples.
Well, at least soon enough he'll be out of the Ramtop. No more badly maintained roads and mount and vales. Things should go smoother from here on out.
As he prepared himself to pass on a bridge he heard a loud, sonorous voice coming from the other side.
"HALT!"
Out of the darkness came out a troll with a strange insignia, as well as a handful of soldiers of the kingdom of Rubraff, the one his coach was currently traversing. While he had no idea what the deal was with the troll, he knew better than to oppose the local authority.
"Is something the matter?"
"Do you have people's coming from Ankh-Morpork inside your coach, sir?" Said one of the soldiers.
"Yes, why?"
"We've received words from Ankh-Morpork that a suspect for a case of murder has left the city."
"We'd like to look at your passenger!" Groaned the troll.
"Well, of course, you may…"
The door of the coach violently flung open, and in the darkness, they saw someone running away toward nearby woods.
"That's our target. Quick, after her!" The soldiers threw themselves after the fugitive. The one who spoke, realizing that the troll was not moving, stopped to call him again. "You too, Mica! You don't sit this one out!"
"Righ!"
All the soldier rushed toward the woods, leaving Richard alone, in the dark, around his coach. Well not alone, there was still two of his passenger inside. Maybe they were panicked. He was a professional man, so of course, he was going to tell them there was nothing to worry about.
He walked around. "Are you okay in there?"
Inside was the little girl, hugged tightly by the woman. "Yes, we are fine. This fiend tried to held us hostage but panicked." Said the woman. The poor ten years old was silently crying. It was understandable, she just saw this man...her father? That did not make sense if he was a criminal he would not have brought her.
Looking more cautiously, Richard realized that this woman was holding very tightly the girl's wrist, the skin under her grip starting to get blue. "What's the meaning of this? This man was this girl father!"
"Really? Or perhaps he abducted a child and forced her to pretend to be his daughter. A good way to cover his trail."
"That… Could make sense. But the soldiers were searching for a woman. You seem like the suspicious one here, miss. Unhand her and right now. You'll be taken by those…"
"Oh, fucking pain. I thought I was convincing!" She let go of the girl, who promptly moved away, holding her painful wrist, and hid behind the man.
"Good. Now, stay still and…" He never got to finish his sentence. With her now free hand, she pulled a knife from her dress, and lunged at him, stabbing him in the throat with an impressive speed. Richard crumbled on the ground agitated by spasm. The girl ran away, screaming loudly.
It wanted to throw itself after her, but the light of torches was approaching again. It did not have the time for another murder. With a quick look around it, it decided to go back into the Ramtop. The soldiers would probably assume it kept going toward Uberwald, and if it secretly reached a neighboring kingdom, they would be unable to pursue it anyway.
Lancre was the closest. And it had some kind of party. A wry smile passed over its face. That may be a better destination than Uberwald.