Clementine sat at the restaurant table, a serene smile plastered on her face, she looked and felt like the cat that had not only eaten the canary, but successfully framed the dog. The chairs were simple smoothed wood, the table round and large enough for three others, but she sat alone while the waitress laid a small glass of juice in front of her. "Would you like food?"
"Local specialty is fine." Clementine replied with a passive shrug and a confident, even cocky smile spread over her face.
The waitress, a half elven woman with the blonde hair that typified most of the elven race, bowed politely, scratched something on some cheap paper, and left. "It'll be right out." She said lyrically before retreating.
As soon as she was gone, Clementine activated her message spell. 'So there are some members of Zuranon still out and about, evidently they're doing something to sacrifice children, the contact didn't know about the deaths, all he knew was that some members of Zuranon from the old days were actually acquiring 'toys' awhile back. Now listen, if this is Zuranon, sister, then they'll be methodical. They are not choosing children at random, not completely at least. Find out what they have in common, and you'll find out how they're being chosen. I'll check out the dog breeder and find out if any time in the last year somebody acquired a large number of hunting dogs. If I can track that person down, we'll be a long way toward solving this.'
Clementine cut off the message without waiting for a response, her sense of self satisfaction was not even slightly sated by the chance to boast to her sister of her successful accomplishment of her assignment. 'It isn't as satisfying as the kill… but there is some fun to be had in the hunt at least. But what next…?' She asked, only then realizing that she was wondering not about what came next in her assignment, but 'later'.
'Am I going to be killed again?' The question haunted the back of her mind, 'Or will proving my usefulness here keep me alive longer? I am demonstrating some useful skills, but if I am any judge of strength, their 'maid' can crush me with ease. She did mention reward. But maybe that just means a painless death? I suppose that beats a painful one… but I'd rather not die at all…' The thought dangled off a cliff and fell away when the waitress laid a small plate in front of her with some honey glazed bread, and then another with a bowl of thick stew with bits of cooked lamb and vegetables in a rich smelling dark broth. Clementine barely acknowledged it before she dove into her first meal in over a decade.
The rich pleasure of being able to eat, the pleasure of the meat sliding down her throat, the flow of juices exploding on her tongue, bliss enveloped her entire body before she washed her first mouthful down with a deep drink of her cup of juice.
'I swear, I like being alive, maybe I can just offer to work for them directly, make kills, hunt their enemies, maybe draw a comfortable paycheck and have the security of not being turned to Clemenjuice again.' It was a fairly radical thought to her, having never relished working for anyone, but options were few and all the others stark and unappealing.
It bore the weight of her thinking all the way until she finished the meal, paid her bill, rose, and headed toward the Drunken Huntsman, hoping it was still in business and still a popular place for local hunters.
"So that's the situation, Lady Yuri." Myne said, passing on the information her sister had sent her way.
Yuri Alpha nodded along and said in turn, "I see, I see. It will take hours at best for the riders of Neia's three hundred to make it to all the various points and identify which missing child came from which orphanage, and the latest kill was very recent, so it should be safe…" Yuri folded her left arm in front of her belly then rested the elbow of her right, on the forearm and stroked her chin with her hand. "There shouldn't be anything to worry about yet. However we need to relay the question of commonality to all of Neia's fighters. What happened in the previous few months at each location. If we know that, we will be a great deal closer to identifying the problem."
"Provided the message scrolls, I can take care of that." Myne rubbed her hand over her shaved head again and struggled unsuccessfully to suppress a yawn.
"Fine, after that, you may sleep here, it is late and you will need rest. Nothing more can be accomplished tonight in any case. Consider the floor an upgrade from your prior confinement." Yuri's harsh generosity was conveyed as much through her indifferent gaze as it was through the words themselves, but Myne only smiled pleasantly as Yuri laid out a single message scroll. "Reach out directly to Neia, inform her that it must be passed on to all of her soldiers, she'll know how to reach them best and they'll respond instantly to her."
"As you wish, Lady Yuri." Myne replied with a polite bow as the maid departed the room.
'This is going to be awkward.' Myne thought as she took up the scroll when Yuri left her alone. 'Or maybe not? Maybe she won't recognize me? It's been years and she only heard my voice a few times…'
Myne took a deep breath and activated the message scroll, 'Pope Baraja, this is Myne, speaking…'
'Yuri!' Neia snarled over the message, 'I'd recognize your loathsome voice anywhere… I thought you were still in the tender care of some of my favorite demons!'
'I was… I'm in the 'temporary' service of Yuri Alpha… I'm flattered you remember after all this time, the last time I laid eyes on you and traded words…' Myne began, only to be cut off.
'Was just before the siege, the meeting with Remedios. I know, I was there, and not killing you during the war was one of my few regrets!' Neia snarled out with venom in every word she thought.
'Right well… water under the bridge, shame nobody tossed some up to your elves.' Myne giggled, and savored the animalistic growl the memory of the burnings brought to the pope on the other end of the spell. 'Regardless, I'm tasked with solving some murders and your ah… contribution, will need some information passed on to them if you want them to succeed. Questions to be asked, things to be sought.'
The voice of the Black Paladin was cold as death, and Myne braced for the insults and hatred. However they never came. Instead cold courtesy was returned, 'I see. If you are in service to His Majesty's justice… I will help you. Tell me what I need to have passed on.'
The unexpected calm allowed Myne's heart to beat normally again, the memory of the twisted face and the throbbing, pulsing black eyes filled with the torment of demons was not one she relished. But she passed on what she needed to, before laying down stretched out in front of her map, straining her muscles out in that delicious soreness that preceded sleep, Myne yawned, and dozed off to dream of nothing.