A Series Of Questions

Emily woke up in her bed on the Dreadful Wale. Only, she wasn't on the Dreadful Wale. There were various ways she could have figured this out, but she only needed the one that was obvious to her inside of five seconds.

Her tongue was in her mouth, and both her arms were intact.

The Void opened up once she was outside her room, and she began exploring the monolithic shards of stone slicing through the emptiness. Nothing was initially unusual…besides the Outsider's conspicuous absence, and the increasing presence of vines and trees curling around her surroundings as she walked.

Is he mad I didn't get Daud myself?

"Are you mad?" She called into the nothing, enjoying the feeling of her own voice for what limited time she could. "You're mad, aren't you?"

"Oh, no, I'm in a fairly good mood."

That wasn't the Outsider.

Emily spun a full 180, and saw a certain witch in recognisable overapplied eyeshadow.

"Hey there, Delilah." She greeted. "What's it like in Dunwall city?"

"Well, you're a thousand miles away, so now your tower looks so pretty." Delilah replied, smirking from her position leant against a tree.

"Oh, that true?" Emily flexed her right arm, which she found to be wielding a blade. "How did you pull me in here?"

"Fuck you, I'm Delilah Kaldwin, I can do whatever I want." Was the witch's curt reply.

"Whatever you want except for killing me, I understand." Emily tilted her head. "Is that why we're here now?"

"Unfortunately, this is but an ephemeral meeting. You remain in whatever hovel you've hidden yourself in, and I remain…all sorts of places." Delilah gestured vaguely around herself. "While we were here, I thought we could have a nice little chat."

"Oh, I'd love to." Emily smiled. "Can I have my Empire back?"

"No."

"What's the secret to your immortality?"

"I'm afraid I can't say."

"Who's in charge of your hair and makeup?"

"Woman named Fiona, why?"

"Fire her." Emily advised. "Immediately."

Delilah's mouth twisted into a frown. "And here I thought I'd rid the world of your tongue…"

"Only one world." Emily raised an eyebrow. "Why am I really here, Delilah Copperspoon?"

"Because of that. I thought I'd provide some much needed historical context." Delilah turned around. A giant tapestry appeared and unfolded behind her. "You require a presentation on the point of me stealing your power."

"You can just call a spade a spade and admit its your tragic backstory." Emily tilted her head, as glowing images began to spread across the tapestry. "No need to go with 'power point presentation' or whatever—Is this going to explain why you stole my house and murdered my friends?"

"Well, yes, but beyond that." Delilah glanced back. "Did you ever wonder why your father called me 'Copperspoon', back in the throne room?"

"Well, it's a common name among cooks." Emily reasoned. "That, combined with your insistence that you're my mother's sister, suggests to me that you're a bastard child of some sort. You feel entitled to my throne by birthright, am I correct?"

Delilah gave her an annoyed look. As if she was supposed to have spent the last three weeks not thinking about this.

"I'm correct." Emily smirked. "You do realise that, in terms of succession, current Imperial law prioritises the direct child of an Empress over her sister, right?"

"I was older than Jessamine." Delilah countered. "The throne should never have been hers."

"Except that you're a bastard, and children born out of wedlock are illegitimate." Emily pointed out. "Also, all those laws are only in the case of the Emperor or Empress dying without naming an heir, because they can pick whoever they want anyway—"

"I just killed High Overseer Martin." Delilah interrupted.

Emily blinked. It took a second for the words to process. "You…what?"

"Sorry. You were making me angry, so I said something to upset you and shut you up." Delilah explained. Behind her, images of the man's head (noticeably detached from his torso) appeared on the tapestry. "But yes, I absolutely just murdered the High Overseer and, like, a couple hundred of his minions."

"…You're a fucking maniac." Emily whispered. Martin…damnit, no…

"Sure thing. What were we talking about…right, laws!" Delilah smiled. "Come now, neither you nor I are strangers to flaunting those. Just because something is legal doesn't mean it's fair."

"There's a difference between instituting a minimum wage and taking over the country on a power trip." Emily snarled, very much annoyed by the witch's flippant disregard of her old friend and mentor's life. "For all I know, you're lying or insane. The Empire of the Isles is mine."

"Because you were born entitled to it?" Delilah snapped. The tapestry fell apart behind her, forgotten. "How quickly was that silver spoon placed in your mouth, Emily Kaldwin? You believe that you should simply be given this empire, that you deserve it. But I earned it! I came up from nothing, and now the throne is mine!"

"I do deserve it." Emily declared, moving closer. She smiled a predatory smile. "But don't you worry your pretty little head about that. Well, I assume you're pretty, under the wrinkles."

"Big words, given what your profile looks like now." Delilah hissed.

"See, you're speaking, but I don't care." Emily moved right up into Delilah's face. "I don't need to explain myself to animals like you. As far as you're concerned, the Empire is mine for the same reason it was mine when Hiram Burrows had it. I'm going to come back there and take it away from you."

"Oh, there she is." Now Delilah was smiling as well. "What happened to the kind and merciful young Empress you show to the rest of the world?"

"She died with her mother; it just took her a while to realise it." Emily leaned back. "I have nothing more to say to you. Get out of my dreams."

There was a knock at Emily's door.

She ignored it.

There was another knock.

She ignored that too.

"Emily. If you don't let me in, I will just break the lock and give Billie the money for a new one."

Emily grit her teeth and stretched out her shadow-arm. That was something she'd discovered it could do recently: Stretch. Even sat at her desk, it was a matter of thought to reach out almost two metres and unlock the door to her room.

Thomas entered a moment later, closing the door behind him, and came to sit on her bed.

"Whatcha writing?" He asked.

She held up an example of one of her completed letters.

"To the king and queen of Morley…" Thomas read. "Diplomatic overtures? That's the fancy word for them, right?"

Emily nodded, turning briefly to sign 'My Empire' at him before returning her attention to the letters.

"Fair enough. An indication that you're still alive might be enough to keep the other nations from joining Delilah. She's certainly not going to win them with charisma…" He paused, drumming his fingers on the bed, then reached into his pocket. "Read the newspaper? Main headline: 'The Witch Has Appeared: Grand Inventor Vanished! Silent masked demon tears through Aventa district, dozens injured, Kirin Jindosh nowhere to be found!' What even is a 'demon'?"

Creature from old Serkonan interpretations of the Void. Tales said that it was where bad souls went when they died, and these 'demons' would torture them forever. Emily had read a lot of stories about the Void in her time. But she couldn't be bothered to write that down, so she didn't, instead focusing on her letter to Tyvia.

Another minute passed. Then Thomas sighed.

"Emily." He said, quietly. "Not to be insensitive, but you've got to talk to me about this."

Emily glanced over at her mirror. Tired, blank eyes looked back at her.

She set the letter aside, taking a blank piece of paper and writing 'talk about what?' on it before sliding it towards Thomas.

He stepped closer to read it, then gave her a look. "Don't be like that. You lost a limb, Emily. And you've not even told me what happened yet! You must be feeling…something, at least. And I can't stand it when I don't know what you're thinking, damnit, I worry about you!"

'You are not entitled to updates on my mental state.' She scrawled down, curtly.

"I'm not 'entitled' to anything from you, I know that." Thomas agreed. "But I understood we had a tentative agreement that you'd talk to me when something was bothering you. And sure, there may be a time to annul that, but I don't think this is it."

Thomas, as usual, was the one who had something resembling common sense. But that made it hard to explain to him why now might be a very good time to end their emotional openness.

'It's easier not to think about it.' She wrote. Then, after tapping her pen a few times, 'I need to stay focused. If I don't, I might…break.'

"Hence, barely saying a word to anyone since you got back and almost killed Billie?" Thomas moved closer, put a hand on her shoulder. "If that's your strategy, you need to ask if you can really keep it together until Delilah's gone and you're back on your throne. Because we've still got a long way to go, and if you can't, it's probably best that you let the pressure out now. Otherwise it just keeps building up, and it'll be a lot worse when it eventually does break loose."

Emily sighed. The problem was that it was already a frightening concept to let herself think…

She put her human hand on his, and started writing with the shadow-arm. It was, despite its general nastiness, still capable of gripping a pen.

'How much more will I have to lose?' She wrote. And now the words were out there, staring stubbornly at her from the surface of the paper. 'Fifteen years ago, I lost my mother. And that was—' she didn't feel the need to finish the sentence. 'Father isn't dead. Not properly. But since Delilah arrived, I've lost my tongue, my arm. My abdomen will be scarred for life. What else will be taken from me, before I'm done?' Her clawed hand tightened around the pen, digging scratch marks into it. Not for the first time. 'The first time, I made it through with no lasting injuries. You were fine, the loyalists stayed with me, even Granny Rags was tame. Am I worse, now, than I was as a child?'

"Don't think like that." Thomas chided her. "You know you're not. You didn't have to fight immortal witches or giant robots the first time."

'But it was my apathy that lost me the Outsider's powers.' Emily pointed out. 'My arrogance lost me my arm. My complacency that lost me the Empire. This'

She gestured at, well, everything. 'This was avoidable. All of it. But I messed up, and it happened, and now I have to live with it for the rest of my life.'

"How bad is the new arm?" Thomas asked, hesitantly.

Emily sucked in a breath. Let the concentration she'd been maintaining drop.

The arm disintegrated, smoke dissipating and bone flaking away and vanishing into the air.

Blood quickly began to drip from the wound.

'It requires constant effort to maintain.' She wrote (much less legibly) with her left hand. 'Might be too hard to keep up for a full day, I haven't checked. Vanishes when I sleep. I've woken up with blood on my sheets before, but usually that happens further south'—

It became clear to her at that point that Thomas wasn't reading. He'd taken one look at the wound and gone to the crate of first aid supplies in the corner of the room, coming back with a roll of gauze and a determined expression.

"You're telling me you're actually grievously injured, and you didn't even go to Hypatia?" He demanded.

'She's got enough on her plate.' Emily wrote, sullenly.

"Or even ask me for help? You woke up in a pool of your own blood and you didn't even change clothes? No wonder it stinks in here!"

She gave him an affronted look.

"Shirt off. Now." Thomas wasn't having any of it. "Let me at this."

Emily rolled her eyes and acquiesced, and Thomas wasted no time carrying out the very good idea of actually cleaning and dressing the wound.

In her defence, she'd tried to do it herself, but…well. One arm.

"Your designers are going to make so much money when you get back." He muttered, working. "Gotta throw out the whole wardrobe."

'Or take a blade to it.' She wrote.

"What you're rocking right now still works. It's a really clean cut, so you can keep the 'disgraced witch-noble' vibe with only one sleeve." He pulled the bandage tight, making her wince, and added "But I don't think you'll be able to get away with it with all your outfits. Some of your dresses would fall apart, I think."

'Need long, flowy sleeves.' Emily agreed. 'Maybe asymmetrical. Who knows, maybe I'll start a new fashion craze.'

"You're lucky Dunwall's so bloody conservative." Thomas pointed out. "Have you seen what some of these Serkonan women are wearing? Or more accurately, what they aren't? You'd never pull it off."

'Because my midriff looks like a wolf tried to dig a hole in it?'

"Oh, no, because you're fat. That flab of yours, it would never—"

She reached up and cuffed him around the side of his head, letting out a breathy laugh. That was when she realised she was smiling, for the first time since leaving Jindosh's manor.

'Thank you.' She wrote as he finished up.

"I live to serve." Thomas answered, looking at her wound again. "And on the subject of which…can I come with you, next time?"

Emily glanced away. 'Maybe.'

"Don't you give me a politician's no, Emily." Thomas put his hands on her shoulders, allowing her to look at both of them in her mirror. "You don't want more preventable mistakes? You prevent them by having me to protect you."

'We have two quests on the go. I need you going where I can't.' Emily countered.

"Just send Billie. Send Daud, he'll be fine, he has old man strength."

'You are literally the only person I trust who isn't dead, incarcerated, or in a different country.'

"Hm, okay, good point." Thomas looked tense. "Counterpoint: I just watched you drive up to the boat missing an arm."

'I got another one.'

"Emily."

'It stretches.'

Thomas' grip tightened, and he moved until he was practically resting his chin on her shoulder. "I used to have nightmares about you dying in my arms, Emily Kaldwin." He whispered, very close to her ear. "But now I have the brand new terror that never occurred to me before: That you might die, and I wouldn't even know about it until it appeared in the newspapers. And I Don't Know Which Would Be Worse."

Emily slowly set down her pen. Then stood, twisting around until she was fully facing Thomas. Their faces less than a foot away from each other, she raised her hands up between them, and very deliberately signed:

'I. Will. Be. Fine.'

He stared into her eyes. "You sure?"

She nodded.

"You promise?"

She nodded again.

"Outsider's eyes, Emily…" He stepped backwards, running a hand through his hair. "Alright. I…Alright. Sure. But does this mean you're actually willing to come into the main room and debrief? You still haven't told us what in the Void happened up there."

Emily rolled her eyes. 'Ten minutes.' She signed, before returning to her desk. Her magic responded to her tug, and the shadow-arm sprouted itself atop the bandage.

"Oh, and, by the way—"

There was a clink, as something landed on her table. Emily looked at the bag of (presumably) coin, then back at Thomas.

"You bet fifty coin Billie wasn't a Brigmore witch." He said, with a smile. "Turns out she was a Whaler, so I guess you win."

There were a few people Emily had to check up on before planning their next mission. And she wasn't looking forwards to the first.

With the lack of spare rooms on the ship, Kirin Jindosh's 'room' was a cot placed down by the engines. Once he'd awoken, he'd been curtly informed by Dr Hypatia that he had free reign of the ship, provided he didn't cause them trouble or try to escape. Billie had protested showing him that much trust…until Emily had pointed out that he was an ordinary, unfit civilian, surrounded by combat trained teleporting superbeings. There wasn't really much he could do.

Despite his freedom, the engine room was where Emily found him. He was paying far too much attention to the engine itself for her liking, so she banged a fist on a pipe as she approached, making him jump and round on her.

"You!" He shouted, stumbling backwards.

'Me.' Emily wrote out on her palm, trusting that he could still follow her hand's movements. 'Shall we talk about our deal?'

"Now now, hold on a minute." Spluttered the genius. "That wasn't…you cheated! The door was already open!"

'I opened it.' She countered, raising an eyebrow. 'You lost fair and square. I could have killed you before we'd even spoken. I chose not to.'

Jindosh gulped. "But…you used magic!"

'You already knew I was a witch.' Emily pointed out.

"Well, yes I suppose I did." He huffed. She noticed that he had moved about as far away from her as he possibly could, pressing himself against the pipes running along the back wall. "But there's a difference between slipping through walls and locked doors and…" his eyes flickered to her shadow arm. "And what I saw you do on my terrace."

Emily grimaced. 'So…you were conscious for that.'

"The sound you made could have woken the dead, girl." Jindosh twitched, slightly. "Naïve and idealistic, and you like to think of yourself as the goodie. That's what you said, isn't it? I'm afraid that's a hypothesis I'll have to throw out the window after what I've witnessed. If you truly believe you're any less of a monster than Delilah is, I'm afraid you're quite delusional."

Emily's eyes narrowed. 'As delusional as insulting me when you know full-well what I can do?'

Jindosh was able to manage a small smile. "If you intended to kill or torture me, you would have already done so. As afraid as I am that you'll snap (and believe me, I am afraid), I think it will take more than some harsh words to—"

Emily slammed her skeleton fist into the pipe beside his head.

He jolted and screamed, but the scream quickly devolved into a panicked laugh. "See? Ahahah, you can keep me on your run-down little wreck for as long as you want, but you don't have the nerve to do anything more!"

Emily glared at him, but as terrified as he clearly was, he wouldn't back down.

Oh, for goodness sake. Must I really be forced to face the consequences of my actions? That's ridiculous.

She pulled the arm away, slowly, and took a step backwards. Then wrote out 'We had a deal.'

"We did, but I've never been known as a man who keeps his promises. Honestly, did you think gambling with me to suddenly change my loyalties would work?" Jindosh sagged slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. "I respect wit, miss Kaldwin, and teleporting hidden through my house when I'm not even prepared isn't the sort I care for. You're as mad as Delilah, but you're far less likely to murder me for betraying you. And I'm a rational man."

Disgust welled up inside Emily.

'After we win, it will be your actions leading up to the victory that decide whether you maintain your status or rot in jail.' She declared. 'Be aware that the longer you remain silent, the less useful you become.'

She turned, and walked out the room.

"Honestly, there's nothing I can prescribe you besides food, drink, and rest." Dr Hypatia declared, standing beside Anton Sokolov's cot and scribbling down notes for herself.

He chuckled, weakly. "You're prescribing me drink? My dear, you're the kind of Doctor I've needed my entire life—"

"Not alcohol, sir." She sighed. "Frankly, if your metabolism slows down much more, you'll probably die outright. At your age, there's only so much that can be done to stimulate recovery. Just…take it easy. Aches and headaches are to be expected. Don't drink any more elixir than I've set out for you, and try not to strain yourself."

"I know how to be a weak old man, Doctor, I've been doing it for some years now." Sokolov sighed, raising his arm above his face. It shook, and he was barely able to keep it there for more than a few seconds before dropping it back across his chest. "The human condition, they call it. I prefer to think of it as a gradual fall. Depending on how you shape your body, you can slow your descent, or speed it up. But you can't ever go any higher. And nothing can stop you hitting the bottom eventually."

"Well, keeping to the metaphor, let's see if I can't at least equip you with a parachute." Hypatia told him, smiling. "Now, if you'll excuse me, just about everyone else on this boat also needs my help—"

"You dislike being around me."

His words made her halt on the way out. "I…I don't know what you—"

"I may be lame, but I am neither blind nor stupid." Sokolov cut across her. "And while nobody's actually told me much, I do have ears. Shall I start guessing? Or would you prefer to enlighten me?"

She turned back to him, clutching her clipboard tightly. He saw her expression and sighed. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to pressure you. My curiosity tends to get ahead of my manners. Which I usually don't care about, but as I've grown older I've started to feel slightly worse about upsetting those I respect."

"No, no, it's not you!" Hypatia bit her lip. "I…feel awful about you, in general. Actually looking at your condition makes it worse. Since I…well, I'm…"

"The Crown Killer." There wasn't any fear, nor malice in Sokolov's voice.

She winced. "You…aren't concerned about that?"

"If you were a threat to me, neither Emily nor Billie would let you near me." Sokolov chuckled; a laugh that turned into a cough. "I do wish to ask why…"

"I was…ill." Hypatia answered. "It brought out a part of me that…it doesn't matter, it's gone now."

"Is it?" Sokolov asked. Two words that ignited all of her own anxieties at once.

"How—What do you mean?"

"My dear, ageing isn't the only thing that can't be taken back." The scientist told her, gently. "Most people hide behind the excuse that they are unable to do something truly vile, and so they must be a good person. But for those of us without that luxury, we have the unenviable task of knowing we can be evil, and then choosing not to. I've researched the Crown Killer murders, doctor. That door has already been opened."

"But…it wasn't me." Hypatia protested, weakly.

"Do you remember them?" Was Sokolov's calm reply.

She grimaced. "I—not initially. But, my dreams…at first I thought nothing of them…"

Sokolov nodded, sadly. "Such things often appear in the subconscious when the conscious mind avoids dwelling on them. Perhaps speak to Emily, if you want the advice of someone with a very similar experience."

"I would never…I won't ever be her again." Hypatia said, firmly.

"I'm not worried. I suspect it's yourself you'll have to convince." Sokolov looked at her, and sighed. "I forgive you, Doctor Hypatia. It was not your fault."

"…Thank you." She reshuffled her pages, and coughed. "I really do have to check on the others."

"Of course. Thank you for your care."

Daud didn't know who's chair this had been before, but he liked it, so it was his now. As was the whiskey he'd snagged from Billie, a glass of which he occasionally sipped.

He stared out to sea, and smiled.

"That's good form, Emily Kaldwin." He said, not turning around. "You sneak like your father."

After a moment, the Empress' footsteps returned to an ordinary volume. She walked out in front of him, perching on the side of the ship, and gave him a curious look.

"If you recall, he actually worked for me for a good few weeks." Daud explained. "Between me attacking his Empress, and the two of you attacking me."

Her expression soured immediately, and he sighed. "Suppose I should stop antagonising you…truth is, at this point, I'm not much fussed if you kill me. Not got long left to live anyway."

Emily sniffed, but didn't answer. She pulled a sheet of paper from her jacket, holding it out to him. His eyes (much like the rest of him) weren't in excellent shape, so he had to squint to actually read the words.

'What do you know about Delilah?'

A sensible question. He really was surprised that Corvo hadn't given her the story himself.

"Soon after what happened at Dunwall Tower, after I made a deal with your daddy to help him find you, the Outsider visited me." Daud answered, settling down in his chair and thinking back. "He gave me the name 'Delilah' with no context and vanished, the bastard. Honestly, how many people in Dunwall does he think there are named Delilah?"

He shook his head. "Must have tracked over a dozen leads. Eventually I found a boat by the name owned by Barrister…Timsh, or something. He had an obsession with the Delilah, and that's where Corvo and I started to figure out who she was."

'A bastard?' Emily signed.

Daud nodded. "Her mother was a kitchen maid. Her father was your grandfather. Got kicked out onto the streets at some point and developed a grudge. Studied under Sokolov for a while. Got her mark from the Outsider, and started building her coven in an old place called Brigmore Manor. Once Corvo learned that she was planning something that threatened you, he demanded to be the one to hunt down and stop her."

'Fifteen years ago?' Emily signed, frowning.

"Correct. From what Corvo told me, there was some ritual that would put her into your body."

Emily's face paled. Daud smiled. "Lucky that Attano took care of it, huh? She was contacting you via a painting, but he swapped it out with a different one. Thought he had her completely neutralised, stuck in the Void, and all the witches that were tied to her lost their powers. Open and shut case. But, apparently not." He gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, but I don't know how she's come back. When I heard she had come back, it was being whispered by the Eyeless above my cage. Big issue for them, as I understand it. A good chunk of their members were ex-Brigmore, and Delilah's return was stealing their recruits away."

Emily looked away, her face one of consternation. It seemed she wasn't satisfied with his answers, and to be honest, he wasn't either. She scribbled something on her pad of paper and showed it to him.

It wasn't what he'd expected. 'What were you doing in Karnaca?'

"Does it matter?" He asked. When she didn't reply, he shrugged, and answered "I got caught investigating the Eyeless cult. They've very recently come into possession of a powerful artefact, and I wanted it."

'Why?' She pressed.

Daud narrowed his eyes. Billie implied it was the Outsider who sent them to come find me. If he…ah, who am I kidding. He already knows. Can't hurt to tell her.

"It's called the twin-bladed knife." He told her. "Supposedly, it's the weapon that was used to make the Outsider. And it can un-make him. I want to use it to kill the black-eyed bastard."

Emily looked at Daud. First in surprise, then contemplation, confusion.

Eventually, she just turned around and asked "So, what? Do you want me to kill him?"

The Outsider sat on the ship's railing beside her, everything he touched tinting monochrome. He was smiling.

"Now, whatever gives you that idea?" He asked.

In his chair, Daud stiffened (though not from being frozen in time). His eyes locked onto the Outsiders, and he uttered "You." with an impressive amount of vitriol.

Emily took a second to enjoy the brief feeling of her own tongue in her mouth before saying "You want me to save you. You sent me after Daud, who wants you dead. Am I supposed to be stopping him?"

"What do you think it means to save a person, Emily?" The Outsider asked, ignoring Daud entirely. "Is it enough to spare their life? Did you save High Overseer Campbell when you had him branded by his own followers? Or did you only save him when you stopped Vera Moray from terrorising the sewers? Or when his plague was cured? Or perhaps not at all, as you returned him to prison soon after?"

More riddles. He never changes… "'Save' is to 'help' what 'need' is to 'want'." Emily replied, in kind. "It has conditions. You can't just 'save' someone, you have to save them from something. This would all be much easier if you just told me what was wrong."

"You're the Outsider's lapdog, now?" Daud demanded.

"I'm paying back a favour." She said, over her shoulder, not breaking eye contact with the god in front of her.

"In all my years, if there's one thing I've learned, it's that knowledge given is far less valuable than knowledge earned." The Outsider replied. He hadn't moved yet, which was odd. Normally he teleported all over the place as he talked. "If I had simply told Daud 'a witch named Delilah hides in Brigmore Manor, and intends to possess the child Empress', do you think he would have even bothered to intervene? Been properly prepared, if he had?"

"Oh, wonderful. You're doing me a favour." Emily tried not to roll her eyes. "So? Anything cryptic to add?"

"You're on the right path. Keep looking. Oh, and Emily?" The Outsider's expression didn't change, but something about his features…sharpened. "Do it yourself this time."

And then he vanished. The influence of the Void receded, and Emily was mute again.

"Prick." Daud declared.

Emily nodded, then started writing on her paper.

She assumed she wasn't supposed to kill Daud. He hardly posed a threat to anything in his current state. In which case…

'The twin-bladed knife.' She wrote. 'We're going to find it.'

Emily sat in a chair in the planning room, and felt very embarrassed as Thomas and Billie pored over her report on the Jindosh mission. Intermittently, both would turn and give her looks, varying in tone from worry to bafflement.

Oh come on. I'd like to see either of you even survive that mansion, never mind intact.

Sokolov, having been present for it, saw no reason to join in. He was sat in his own chair, sketching something on a pad of paper. His hands remained steady and in control as he drew, but Emily couldn't help but note how often he had to stop to rest, wincing in pain or shaking out his digits. He was a far more subdued man than the one that had left Dunwall years ago.

"Three clockworks and three witches, and you just…" Billie mused, catching her attention. "What kind of power can do that?"

"Shadow walk." Thomas muttered. "Bit of an underwhelming name, I know."

Billie looked concerned. "And it…makes her stronger?"

Emily coughed, and Thomas winced. "We aren't really sure. Until today, Emily's only used it twice. Once when she was confronting the Loyalists in the Kingsparrow lighthouse, but she deliberately didn't bring its power to bear then. The other was when a battleship malfunctioned and was about to crash into the city."

"What did she do?" Billie asked.

"She sunk the battleship." Thomas answered, flatly.

There was a pause.

"It's what she got instead of the power to stop time." He clarified.

"…Well…" Billie said, after a while. "At least we have Sokolov back safe. Now, besides Emily's side project, we can actually focus on taking Delilah down."

"That means finding out what in the Void (probably literally) is making her so hard to kill." Thomas agreed, stepping away from the report and settling into a lean near Emily. "If we do that, all we need to do is get back to Dunwall and do her in. Two second job."

Reiterating her no-kill rule would have taken Emily too much effort. Instead, she looked to Sokolov, and signed 'What do you know?'

"Perhaps due to his plans to mentally castrate me, Jindosh was quite carefree with sharing his daily tasks." Sokolov answered. "He wasn't stupid enough to go blabbing about Delilah's powers, but he was often visited by this woman. Breanna Ashworth." He turned the page he'd been working on, revealing a rough black and white (but still very expressive) sketch of a middle-aged woman. Emily recognised her, from the diorama the Outsider had shown her of Delilah's compatriots.

"I know her." Billie said, picking up the page and taking it to the note-board. "One of Delilah's first, closest, and cleverest supporters. Last I heard, she's the curator of the Royal Conservatory here in Karnaca."

"That's what I heard too." Sokolov agreed. "Breanna and Jindosh were collaborating on something known as 'the Oraculum'. I couldn't parse its purpose from what I heard, but it seems to be some unholy marriage of optical science and magic."

"Well, that's a wonderful combination." Thomas said, brightly. "All for blowing it up?"

Emily gave a thumbs up.

"Aye." Said Sokolov.

"Aye." Billie agreed. "And if anyone knows how Delilah came back, or how to get rid of her again, it's Ashworth."

"Jindosh might." Thomas offered. "And we've already got him."

Emily's eyes narrowed. 'He won't talk. Yet.' She signed. We'll see if that can change. But either way, we still need to stop Ashworth…

"Fair enough. You going to be coming with us?" Thomas asked.

Emily shook her head, and started writing. 'Daud told me about a powerful magical weapon, and the cult that has hold of it. The Outsider's sent me after it.'

"Can he really not wait like a week?" Thomas protested. "Or, can we? I don't like splitting up. Not after last time."

'He won't wait. And' Emily paused, and sighed. 'I just received word that Teague Martin has been killed. Every day we wait, the worse things get for the people of my Empire. I'm sick of people being hurt because of my failures.'

Thomas winced upon reading the name. Billie, however, just looked more troubled the more she read.

"Then we'll both go." The captain said. "You get your weapon, we'll stop Ashworth. If we're lucky, whatever you find might be useful against Delilah."

I do sometimes worry about the frequency of these 'interlude' style chapters where not much progression happens, but there's not really much wiggle room when the story structure is 'Heist-Downtime-Heist-Downtime-Heist-Downtime'. But at least I get to write for Delilah, who has somehow turned into, like, one of my favourite characters? I mean in canon she's alright, but I've just made her batshit crazy. I'm having loads of fun.

It's also occurred to me that asking for reviews is basically like youtubers asking for subscribers. Because its annoying as hell. But also, like. It works.

...

MAKE SURE TO FOLLOW AND FAVOURITE THE STORY, FOLLOW AND FAVOURITE THE AUTHOR, LEAVE A REVIEW, FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM, JOIN MY -

Is it going to censor the P word? It does, doesn't it? It DID! Fun.