Chapter 25: Back at the Boiled Mermaid
Emily smiled as Greta skillfully deposited eight bottles of cider on the table.
"You must have been a serving wench in a past life," she commented, impressed.
"What can I say, I have a talent for carrying many things at once," Greta slid into her seat, a proud look on her face.
It was three weeks to the day since Emily had last been inside the Boiled Mermaid and she was honestly glad to be back. Returning was Greta's suggestion, first made during her birthday party and again when she came to visit the day after Lady Boyle's ball. She was bringing a group of her Sisters for Emily to meet, a group which included Bernice and Marzia.
"I must say, they have made some improvements to the place since I was last here," said Sister Mary as she helped herself to a cider. Emily already found herself fond of the older woman, who wore her greying hair back in a neat bun at the nape of her neck. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she had brought a selection of banned novels for Emily to choose from as a gift.
"Was that back when the Olaskirs still reigned?" Bernice asked with playful innocence and sincerity. Two Sisters, the round mousy Eileen and the broad tall Hope, choked on their drinks. Greta outright laughed.
"The Rhydderches, actually," Sister Mary replied lightly. "It's good to see they've installed electric lights."
"They also serve a surprisingly good breakfast," added the motherly Sister Reilly, her wispy hair tucked under a traditional cap.
"Really?" Emily could not help expressing her surprise.
"Oh yes," Sister Reilly smiled and took a sip of her cider. "Sausages, scrambled eggs, toast, and a cup of tea. It really hits the spot after a long night with the midwives."
"So that's where you've been some nights!" cried Hope, astonished.
"I thought that the Oracular Order did not allow their members to leave the chapel?" Emily asked, placing her elbow on the table.
Sister Mary waved her hand. "It is not that we are not allowed to leave, but more that we prefer not to leave," she explained. "We can sit with our books and incense and see the world through our clairvoyance. Greta and I have no reason to leave the library."
"Sisters like Hope and I have labs where we can do experiments," interjected Eileen. "We get our materials through our Brothers."
The women nodded, quiet and thoughtful. Emily found herself looking at each woman, even more curious.
"So, why leave the chapel?"
Sister Reilly let go of her cider and slowly folded her hands. "I first joined the Order when I was sixteen. The life of a Sister was pure luxury compared to the tiny farm I grew up on; I could just sit down and read anything I wanted. Reading about midwifery was particularly interesting to me, as my aunt was one and trained me as her apprentice for a time. So many of the treatises were just plain wrong- and downright harmful. I could do some good by re-writing them and having my advice passed along as Abbey-sanctioned."
"That was actually how I met her," Sister Mary interrupted. "I was supposed to advise her on what was canonically heretical and thus could not be recommended by the Abbey."
"And that started a year-long project to interview every midwife, doctor, and madame in Dunwall." Sister Reilly said, a fond look on her face.
Eileen slammed her hand on the table, causing everyone to jump. "Is that why a whole bunch of prostitutes showed up during the Fugue Feast in 1840 with a giant cart of bonecharms?"
Greta blinked. "What?"
"Oh yes!" cried Sister Reilly eagerly. "That Fugue Feast gave us a lot of information about how the magic and midwifery overlapped. We still have the interviews in the archive."
"By Holgar, my wrist hurt for DAYS after that," groaned Sister Mary. "Pretty much every midwife we talked to stumbled in and told us about how they would recommend some aspect of magic or tell them to visit a shrine to ask for the Outsider's favor."
Marzia scoffed loudly, surprising Emily. "The Outsider is a man; he doesn't care a whit about childbirth and pregnancy."
Emily made a mental note to ask the Outsider about that, though she had a feeling that Marzia was right but for the wrong reasons. Something as normal as pregnancy must be downright boring compared to violent revolts or conspiracies.
"In any case," Sister Reilly continued, her tone gentle. "Many of the midwives had techniques that worked, some of the doctors had access to surgeries and equipment that could save lives, and a few madams had useful methods for preventing pregnancy. They just were not speaking to each other, and many were relying on magic to fix the things that were beyond their abilities."
"So Sister Reilly started a program around Dunwall to provide a support system for midwives in each neighborhood, connecting them to capable doctors and allowing them to discuss techniques and learn," Marzia declared, a proud look on her face. "We have found that bonecharm and magic use has dropped drastically within the last 10 years due to the program."
"We have to keep track of that to keep our funding," Sister Reilly said apologetically.
Emily listened to the whole thing with no small amount of admiration. "How have I never heard about this before?" she said, consternation mixing in with wonder.
"You aren't poor," Bernice said bluntly. "And this does not factor in to politics on your level. For the Abbey it's good for our image and our message of teaching people not to rely on the Outsider."
"It also feels nice to help people," Marzia said with a sniff.
"Just because something helps people does not mean it is going to get noticed for that reason," Eileen argued. "Rosebarrow's whale oil is not praised as a way to keep the poorest among us from freezing to death, but rather as powering our industry."
Emily took a sip of cider, a question forming in her head.
"Speaking of powering industry, do any of you have ideas with how to deal with the shortage of whales?"
The Sisters looked around the table, most eyes falling on Hope and Eileen, both who eyed each other, then Greta. Hope spoke first:
"Would you like to hear reasonable ideas first, or absurd ones?"
Emily thought about it for a moment. "We can start with the reasonable, and then hear the absurd."
Hope smiled and cracked her knuckles. "First is to wean ourselves off whale oil in areas that we can. Textile factories worked just fine using rivers for power, so have them go back to that. We can also use wind to generate electricity, like in Karnaca. Tyvia has been experimenting with using some of the hot springs they have. And bullets sure as void do not need to be made with whale oil!" She made her last point by passionately slamming her hand onto the table.
"Here, here!" cried Sister Mary and Greta, raising their bottles. Hope eagerly took hers and clanked it against theirs.
Eileen waited for them to calm down before she cleared her throat. "I'm working on a finding a way to dilute the oil without it losing its potency," she declared. "The idea came to me during meditation, so I know it is possible, but I have not been particularly successful yet." The Sister picked up her cider and took a long drag from it, putting it down with a little force.
All eyes turned to Greta, Emily's curious- the Sisters knowing.
"So Emily," Greta started, an exaggerated smirk on her face, turned to face her. "We could start generating electricity through magic."
"Oh?" she replied, putting just the right amount of sincerity in her voice. "How so?"
"First," Greta held up a finger, and then gathered three of the cider bottles. "We take three skulls of whales and arrange them like so." She placed the bottles in the shape of a triangle. "Certain symbols must be carved into the cranium. Then we must make a rope from the hair of someone who is "Void-touched." The criterion for that is not explained, but I am sure that can be figured out through trial and error," Greta waved it off. "Then with the rope, it must be threaded through the jaws of the whales during the sixth new moon of the year. After that, the generator is regarded as complete and power may be transported to the desired location through wires of copper."
Emily laughed. "What a wonderful invention! Who was the genius that came up with this?"
Greta shrugged. "It is the oldest thing we have in our archive. It is actually this large metal etching written in the oldest version of our language that we have. Nobody is able to date it, but we did find it in an oddly well-preserved chest underneath our chapel when we were trying to expand the basement."
"Fascinating," Emily murmured, not quite knowing what to say.
"That is one way to describe many of the things that we have in our archive," Sister Mary said. "But enough about that, I can hear the band playing Strip the Willow."
Hope and Bernice leapt to their feet, eagerly abandoning the table for the dance floor. Emily turned to Greta.
"Strip the Willow?" she questioned. The red-head smiled, and took her arm.
"Come, I'll show you!"
After they got up to dance the night devolved into a great deal more revelry than Greta intended. Emily, Hope, and Bernice were lured over to an arm-wrestling match held by a brawny gap-toothed woman. Eileen followed them to keep an eye on the three. Sister Reilly and Marzia took out their crochet hooks and yarn and started working on a pattern. As for Sister Mary, Greta last saw her further up the dance line. The one thing she did miss about her life before the Order was the fabulous dances she was invited to- Greta did love dancing the night away.
After a breathless reel she sat down to take a breather when something, rather, someone caught her eye. Greta walked to the corner of the pub room, where a small crowd of people, including Sister Mary, had pulled up chairs around a group of five men. And sitting in the center, holding a pint of something the color of whale oil, was the Outsider. Sister Mary noticed her, and pulled her forward.
"Greta, why did you not tell me that the Empress had recruited a master of the Occult?" she admonished in a whispered tone.
Greta looked over to the Outsider, who was sans glasses and drinking that horrid blue beverage. The crowd seemed entranced, except for Sister Mary, whose green eyes glittered knowingly.
"I was asked not to tell anyone about him," she whispered back. At that moment the Outsider seemed to finally take notice of her.
"Greta Manderly!" he greeted, placing the half-empty pint on the table. "Welcome to this little corner of the world."
An empty chair appeared right next to Sister Mary's and she warily took a seat. "What are you doing here?"
The Outsider clapped a large blond man on the shoulder. "Fergus here is going home to get married!" the declaration summoned a series of whoops and hollers from the gathered crowd. Fergus just blushed and inclined his head. "I foresee that their marriage will be long and happy, mostly because they will not be in the same space for more than a month at a time."
The sailors in the group laughed, and Fergus shrugged. "If it works it works."
Greta looked around at the bunch- several sailors, a couple City watchmen, and a few Hatters. "So, you are all here to celebrate Fergus' wedding?" she asked, gesturing to the group.
"Heck no!" cried a chubby older woman. "The kid was talking about fixing bonecharms and I came over to ask him to fix mine."
Greta's jaw dropped. She turned to face the Outsider, who was sitting rather gracefully in his chair.
"You do know you can get arrested for that," she said carefully.
The Outsider began laughing. "I know! That's why I told the lady that bonecharms are not going to fix her difficult relationship with her daughter and to get rid of the rune her kid has in her room."
Greta looked back at the woman. "And you are still here?"
She shrugged. "Advice is advice. Besides, there is something entertaining in seeing a lunatic dispensing wisdom."
"And I am a font of wisdom," the Outsider declared with a flourish.
"Really?" Greta pushed back, skeptical. "Name some wisdom you have dispensed so far."
A smug smile crossed his face. "Do not worship the Outsider, he does not give a fig about you and if you get anything in return that is by accident. Voting rights should not be tied to property; instead every citizen of the Isles should have a right to vote for their members of Parliament. And finally," he ticked the third thing off on his fingers. "Do not drink 190 proof alcohols unless you have a death wish or the liver of a god."
There was a whoop from the other side of the room, catching Greta's attention for a brief second. The arm-wrestling contest had changing into a drinking contest as they lined up shots of Tyvia's Blood. Greta decided dealing with the Outsider demanded her attention more than her younger Sisters and Empress possibly getting drunk.
"Alright, that is indeed… wisdom," she admitted. "But is that really enough to draw a crowd?"
"C'mon Sister!" said a young man with more tattoos than bare skin. "It's not every day you get to talk to someone so Void-touched."
The Outsider rolled his eyes. "You will not think I am so Void-touched when you get the clap after fucking blue-eyed Esther."
The young man laughed. "See what I mean?"
Greta regarded the group dubiously. "No not really?"
"Here's a better example," offered a City Watch officer. "Hey Owen!"
The Outsider hummed as he sipped from his pint, an eyebrow raised.
"What's making my marriage fall apart?" the officer asked, a look of satisfied humor in his eyes. His City Watch mates snickered at his question.
"Hmmm," the Outsider made a face as he thought, then snapped his fingers. "Your snoring and refusal to fold laundry."
The trio of men burst into brief laughter. "You see," loudly whispered one of them. "Bernard here isn't even married!"
The rest of the crowd laughed too, except for Greta. It was hard to laugh at premonitions.
The Outsider shrugged at the merriment. "They just think I am crazy. And maybe I am because I think I have been having these feelings… all the time recently."
"Is it indigestion?" Greta said flatly.
He barked a laugh. "Good one. But seriously… feelings."
It finally occurred to Greta that the Outsider was drunk.
A sudden loud crash a something was flung clear across the room, causing dancers to flee out of the way and everyone to turn and see what caused the noise. Greta craned her neck and saw it was a chair. And at the chair's origin was a very angry looking Emily standing toe to toe with a very pissed off mountain of a woman. Greta snuck a look at the Outsider- the expression on his face was a combination of admiration… and hunger. The other woman spoke first, her booming voice carrying across the room.
"Go suck the Outsider's cock, cheater," she snarled.
Emily's head was bent back to look up at the enormous woman, her face losing some of her anger.
"You know what, I will!" she spat back. "And I will enjoy every second of it."
There was a beat of silence; even the band stopped playing their music. Greta was busy trying to convince herself she was in a parallel universe where that did not just happen. The Outsider looked like the Fugue Feast had been declared early. The quiet was so tense that one could cut it with a knife.
Then Bernice began to laugh. It was a donkey's bray of a laugh as she grabbed onto Hope for support, looking ready to collapse on the floor in hysterics. Next, Sister Eileen, a sharp cackle filled with delight. Finally, to Greta's surprise, Sister Mary started laughing too (If she was being truthful, it was not actually surprising). She leaned towards Greta, a conspiratorial look on her face.
"I think someone is going to have a very good night," she commented through her mirth.
"Alright, we're going," Greta declared, grabbing the Outsider by the collar. Much to her relief Hope wrangled Emily, and Marzia and Sister Reilly joined them on the way out, bewilderment evident on their faces. Bernice and Eileen followed, still laughing.
The Outsider was, fortunately, obliging as she dragged him towards the exit. Sister Mary ran ahead, darting out of the doors.
"I'll get us a railcar!" she said.
Emily seemed to notice the Outsider for the first time as Greta led him outside. A large smile crossed her face and she practically threw herself at him. Hope yelped, a look of horror on her face
"My love, my pretty man!" Emily gushed as she draped herself atop of him. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh no she's drunk too," Greta muttered aloud.
"Never mind that, who is he!" hissed Hope.
"He was that fellow I was telling you about from the Boyle's party," said Marzia, who was watching the couple croon sweet nothings at each other. "The one on the boat."
"So just some random witch-cursed guy?" Hope somehow sounded even more horrified.
"No, he's- hey, hey, HEY KEEP IT KID FRIENDLY!" Greta interrupted her reply to deal with the escalating display of affection, yanking hands back up to shoulders. Much to her relief the railcar arrived, with Sister Mary already inside. Sister Reilly, Marzia, Bernice and Eileen all piled in, leaving Greta and Hope to deal with the lovebirds.
"Look the railcar is here, so you might need to separate in order to get in," Hope said somewhat testily.
Emily regarded her with half-lidded brown eyes, and a small smile. "Thank you for being such a good friend Hope. You are a sweetheart, did you know that?"
Hope turned bright red and began to sputter. Greta settled the matter by grabbing the Outsider by the collar once again and dragging him over to the steps. Emily unwrapped from him, but still held his right hand tightly with her left. Finally all in the car, Emily and the Outsider returned to wrapping themselves up each other. The Sisters just watched them, Hope red-faced, Sister Reilly and Marzia lost, Bernice and Eileen gleeful, and Sister Mary knowing.
"Did you know the last time he was this drunk he was crying about whales?" Greta said, trying to go back to better times.
"Will someone tell me who in the Void is he?!" Hope spat, her voice lowered.
"I'll give you a hint," Bernice snickered, her voice also hushed. "He is the owner of the cock that Heather told her to go suck!"
Eileen howled with laughter, tears streaming down her face. Sister Reilly fiddled with the handle of her yarn bag nervously.
"That's not funny Bernice!" Hope forced the words out through gritted teeth.
"No it is!" argued Eileen as she gathered herself, giggling madly. "Just think about it! The muthaeffing Outsider having a sex drive!"
"That's what it is!" The Outsider interjected with sudden understanding. "Thank you tiny industry Sister!"
Emily began cackling, her arms around her neck and legs across his lap. "You don't know what a sex drive is?"
He chuckled and placed his forehead on hers. "It has been four thousand years since I had one, so cut me some slack."
Hope's face went from red to white within seconds. Eileen immediately stopped giggling and gaped at the two. Bernice, however, went from snickering to laugher again. Emily whispered something into the Outsider's ear, and the two dissolved. Greta huffed, annoyed. Now they would have to check to make sure the two ended up in the right place.
"Let's hope they remember to lock the door," she grumbled. Suddenly she was grabbed and lifted somewhat aloft.
"You KNEW?!" screamed Hope, shaking her like a bag of apples. "You knew and you did not separate them, you did not stop the MOTHER FUCKING OUTSIDER from just taking Emily!"
"I am not getting in the middle of two horny people determined to fuck," Greta snapped back.
"Emily is drunk Greta!" cried Sister Reilly with surprising vigor. "Really, really drunk! She cannot consent to anything."
"So is the Outsider!" Greta retorted. "They are both blindingly drunk and will make mistakes! I just want to check they are back at the tower, and leave them to make said mistakes."
"Will everybody shut up!?" Eileen cried. The railcar went silent. Eileen was rubbing her temples her hand supported on her elbows. "A show of hands, who knew that that man was the Outsider?"
Greta raised her hand, as did Bernice, and after a moment, Sister Mary. Hope looked at them with disgust.
"You knew and you just let Emily throw herself at him," she said, her voice cold. "You let her get charmed by him."
"Hope, shut up," Bernice snapped just as coldly. "Emily knows full well who the Outsider is, and is choosing to be with him. Just because you are bitter that you can't fantasize about her anymore does not mean you can remove her agency."
"You take that back!" Hope threw herself at Bernice, causing Greta, Eileen, and even Sister Mary, to hold her back.
"No fighting!" commanded Sister Mary as she forced Hope to sit down. "Bernice, that was uncalled for, apologize to your Sister."
"I am sorry for what I said Hope," Bernice apologized sullenly. Hope grunted, her eyes fixed on the ground and her arms crossed tightly.
"Now that we are calm," Sister Mary continued. "Let us put our heads together, and figure out what we are going to do."