A Test of Ingenuity
You're never gonna believe this. Truly, you're not. But the Dust District? It was dusty.
Emily pulled her mask higher up her face, stooping against the wind and putting a hand over her eyes. It only did so much to stop the rock dust biting into her skin, leaving her dry and chapped and missing Dunwall's perpetual wet chill.
"Does it ever STOP?" Howled Jindosh. He was following behind Emily, with Thomas hovering just beside him.
"Intermittently!" Billie shouted. She was leading the way through the streets, her tan coat billowing behind her. The addition of her old Whaler mask to the ensemble clearly hadn't been for sentimental reasons. "Wind comes down from the mountains, whips up all the dust from the silver mines! Never used to be this bad!"
"What is the point of being privileged if I have to put up with this?"
"No amount of money or science can pay nature to change the weather!" Thomas laughed, though he also looked to be struggling.
"Watch me!" Was Jindosh's response. "When I'm done here, I'm making a large-scale weather machine!"
"Please do!" Billie shouted back. "That might actually help the people."
The wind began to die down, and Billie turned back to them, gesturing. "Through here! We're just about in the place!"
'Is it safe?' Emily signed, looking past her. Their party moved through the wreckage of a building, and out onto an (apparently) unguarded street.
"This is something of a neutral zone." Billie answered, before pointing. "Through there you'll find the Overseers, and through there is Howler territory. The gunfire doesn't usually start until sundown."
"But we're not here for sightseeing. Our resident genius has come to embarrass herself, and we shouldn't deny her the chance." Jindosh strode past them all, jerking his head as he went. "The lock's this way. Come on, little Empress, time to put your mind where your mouth is."
Thomas stepped up next to Emily. "…Can I hit him?"
She rolled her eyes. 'Later.'
The locked door to Aramis Stilton's home was, thankfully, in an entry tunnel protected from the elements. A great sodding wall had been built around the property, and the door—an enormous, vault-like metal contraption—was apparently the only way through.
On the door were a set of spinning panels; five names, and five symbols.
"Are we really about to sit around waiting for Emily to solve a riddle?" Thomas asked, as she walked up and started scrutinising the door.
"Got a better idea?" Billie asked.
"Matter of fact I do." Thomas pointed at the door. "They say your man's still alive in there, right?"
"They do."
"So what's he eating?"
Billie frowned.
Thomas smiled. "Sure, maybe its nonsense and Stilton's dead, but if not? Someone's bringing supplies in there. Means there must be a way in, whether it's the passcode to this door or something else. We could go snoop around."
"She won't do that." Jindosh scoffed, sitting down on a bench. "Emily knows that I'm not impressed by her sneaking. If she doesn't solve this, properly, it proves nothing."
"But once we have a way in, we don't need you anymore." Thomas pointed out. "It'd be fun to watch you realise you're not as smart as you think you are, but Emily doesn't have anything to prove to you."
'Yes I do.' Emily signed, turning back around. 'I'm solving the puzzle.'
"Really?" Thomas slumped, scowling at her, as Jindosh cackled.
Emily nodded, blankly.
"Emily, I guarantee that my way is faster."
'Bet.' She signed.
"Are you—" Thomas narrowed his eyes. "…Billie, you're with me."
"I can't believe I'm working with you people…" Billie sighed, following Thomas as he jogged out into the street.
Emily turned back to the door, dropping her satchel onto the ground and stretching.
"I trust you realise I won't be offering any hints." Jindosh said, settling in on the bench. "If you're going to do this, you're going to have to—"
Emily put a finger of her shadow-arm to his lips, which shut him up rather effectively. On the wall next to the door was a little post-box-thing, and sealed within it, a scroll. She squinted down at it with the magnifying glass provided.
'At the dinner party were Lady Winslow, Doctor Marcolla, Countess Contee, Madam Natsiou, and Baroness Finch.'
'The women sat in a row. They all wore different colors'…
'Finch was at the far left'…
'Contee showed off a prized War Medal'…
Oh, that's what this is.
Emily turned to look at Jindosh. He had a smug smile on his face as he remarked "You're welcome to just throw the towel in now, of course."
She rolled her eyes, went to her satchel, and withdrew some sheets of paper and a pen. Sat down in front of the door, drew a five-by-five table, and then started writing down everything she knew.
'When in doubt, make an entrance, and bullshit your way from there.'
Thomas had tried to make Emily admit it was her motto. She wouldn't, but come on, it was how she worked.
And now he had his powers, and wasn't up against witches, he was more comfortable showboating a little.
Thomas dropped from the ceiling, sat down in Liam Byrne's armchair, and said "Guard-Captain Moray, reporting in."
Byrne was a burly, bald man with dark skin and practical clothes. And credit to the man, he was fast. He twisted on the spot and had a pistol trained on Thomas before he'd finished his sentence.
Thomas just raised an eyebrow, his focus on the weapon-hand. He wasn't faster than a speeding bullet, but he was confident he could jump away the moment the trigger was pulled.
"Thomas Moray." Byrne said, his nose wrinkling in distaste. "You're the Void Singer's lapdog."
"Woof." Thomas replied. "And I'm not sure Void Singer's a very appropriate title anymore—Also, is that any way to speak about your rightful empress?"
"Not really an empress anymore, is she?" Byrne said.
"Oh, so you support Delilah's claim to the throne?" Thomas asked. When Byrne's expression soured further, he grinned. "Didn't think so. From the audiographs you're leaving, you're not a big fan of the pretender or her minions. You're welcome, by the way."
"You were responsible for the chaos at the Conservatory." Byrne realised. His grip on the pistol hadn't shifted once. "Abele still isn't letting my men inside. Did you find anything useful?"
Thomas slowly reached down to one of his pockets. When Byrne didn't try to stop him, he pulled out an audiograph of its own, then threw it over. "Give this a listen. Witches trying to manipulate the Oracular Order, as you suspected. Don't worry, we dealt with it. Again, you're welcome."
Byrne caught the audiograph with his other hand, his frown deepening. The gun lowered slightly. "And where is your empress?"
Thomas tilted his head. "She's…busy."
Emily finished jotting down all the basic information from the riddle, and filled in what she could of her table. Decided it would help to draw a second one listing seating positions at the top rather than names.
She stood, and walked confidently over to the door. Switched the far left name to 'Finch'.
Turned and smiled at Jindosh.
"Oh, yes, very funny." He huffed.
"Then why are you here?" Byrne asked. "What does Emily Kaldwin want from me?"
Okay, that's something resembling cooperation. "We need into Aramis Stilton's manor." Thomas answered. "Witch stuff. Thought you might be able to help."
"Uh huh." Byrne didn't look impressed. "And why in the name of all that is good should I help you with 'witch stuff'?"
"Well, for one, it just might help us bring Delilah down." Thomas shrugged.
"And replace one witch-queen with another?"
"Okay I think I'm starting to see the problem here." Thomas stood up. "You really don't like Emily, do you?"
"Nothing so personal." Byrne scowled. He did a good scowl. "She's a witch. She should be killed, imprisoned, or if possible freed of her curse. Not put in charge of an empire."
"Your High Overseer disagreed with you." Thomas pointed out.
"Teague Martin was too attached to the girl." Byrne said, disdain thick in his voice. "Perhaps even enchanted. The Abbey does not falter. He let his emotions get in the way of doing what was necessary, what was right."
"And you would have…what? Locked up a ten year old girl? Killed her? Lopped off her hand to see if that fixed it?" Thomas decided to stop voicing all the possibilities because each one he said pissed him off more. "I'm pretty sure empathy and compassion are tenets of your stupid religion. Which Emily would know, because she goes to mass every week."
"Compassion is a virtue, yes. But not when it causes us to be possessive of individuals over the greater good." Byrne was gesticulating, and Thomas realised he'd put the man in preacher mode. "Our duty is to protect the community, to see the big picture. Having a witch on the throne is a rot at the very heart of our world."
"Oh you wanna talk big picture?" Thomas spread his arms. "Shall we talk about how Duke Abele is playing you for a fool right now?"
Byrne's movements slowed, and his eyes narrowed. "I don't answer to Luca Abele."
"You don't need to. You're doing exactly what he wants." Thomas chuckled. "Let me get this straight, for a second. There is a witch on the throne who is tearing apart the government, your boys up in Dunwall are in outright war with her and a few days ago she killed the High Overseer along with hundreds of your 'brothers'."
He turned, putting his back to Byrne and looking through his window at the city. "Here you are in Karnaca, Duke Abele is Delilah's most ardent supporter, you at least suspect that she has a coven of witches based here, and you're…" He literally couldn't stop the laugh breaking up his words "Fighting a gang?"
"They're not just a gang." Byrne declared. "I suspect Paolo is in possession of a heretical artefact that lets him—"
"You want to talk heretical gangs? The Eyeless gang were holding bone charm fights and draining people's blood, we had to stop that ourselves!" Thomas turned back to him. "Okay fine you don't like Emily, you'd rather she was in jail and a nice pious person ran the Empire, whatever. Explain to me why you haven't tried to overthrow Abele and cut off all of Delilah's support?"
Byrne was starting to look distinctly uncomfortable. "We don't have the men—"
"Tell him you want to discuss aligning the Abbey with his interests, invite him over, and gangpile him." Thomas said, flatly. "What's your real reason?"
Byrne's jaw worked. Then he spat on the floor. "…Do you have any idea how much I hate politics?"
Oh, this has been building up for a while. Thomas thought, trying not to smile.
"All my career at the Abbey, I wanted to do good." Byrne clenched his fists. "But no, we have to make compromises. We have to pander to politicians, we have to maintain the funding of the nobility, we have to allow witchcraft even though it violates the most fundamental tenets of our order. I came to Karnaca to get away from all that, but it's followed me here. Or it was here waiting for me…" He sighed. "I could side with Emily against Delilah, or make concessions to Abele so he'll give me more control, play the games. But damn all that. Here, at least I know I'm helping."
"Are you?" Thomas asked. "Paolo fights because people are dying in those mines."
"Paolo fights because he's an animal with a grudge."
"Doesn't mean the people aren't dying." Thomas left it a beat. "I told Emily I was coming here because I bet you could help us through the door. That was bollocks, either of us could get through just fine. I'm here because once we've taken care of Abele (and we will, like, soon), I don't want this city to fall apart." He sighed. "When Emily stopped the leaders of Dunwall in the interregnum, she was right there afterwards to take the reins. But we can't do that here."
"And you want me in charge?" Byrne asked, genuine surprise on his face.
"I don't care if it's you, Paolo, or the guy who runs Winslow Safes." Thomas replied, flatly. "I just need the people not to be slaughtering each other during the months it takes us to get back to Dunwall, kill Delilah, and get things sorted enough to assert control over Karnaca again. Sorry you don't like politics, but you're neck deep in them, and if you don't take responsibility, someone else will."
Byrne stared at him for a long time. Then,
"…We still don't have enough men to take down Abele."
Thomas grinned. "Then it's a good thing you have us."
Emily had taken to writing initials for who it couldn't be in the top corners of her tables' boxes.
If white is left of green, and blue is mid-left, white and green have to be middle mid-right or mid-right far-right. She paused, leaned backwards, ran her gaze through the list of clues. Aha! But white is wine, and the middle woman has whisky. So it has to be mid-right far-right.
She filled the details in. Across the room, Jindosh twitched.
"On the sands of sweet Serkonos, did we bathe in the sun, sharing grapes from Cullero, when you were the only one~"
Huh. Not bad. Billie tossed a coin to the band as she walked into the Howler gang's hideout.
Yes, she'd literally just walked into the dilapidated apartment complex, and nobody had stopped her. She supposed she looked the part of a disgruntled gang member (had been one for a time), but still. No discipline in these people.
One man did notice, however. A scarred, lanky creature in a suit that sat up as she approached. He had a sharp, pointed nose and sharp, pointed stare.
"Think you might have taken a wrong turn, miss." He said, loudly enough to make the other Howlers in the room take notice. The band kept playing.
"How many people actually take a wrong turn and wind up in your clubhouse?" Billie asked, putting her human hand on her hip (the skeletal one, she kept within its sleeve).
"You'd be surprised." The man said, standing up. "So what're you looking for, if not a whole lot of trouble?"
"You're Paolo, right?" Billie guessed. At his nod, "I need to get into Aramis Stilton's manor. I was wondering if you could help with that."
Paolo's expression didn't give anything away. Billie could already tell that this was someone Actually Competent. A rarity anywhere, but especially among criminals. No wonder he's survived this long.
"Maybe I can." He hedged. "But I trust you don't expect anything for free?"
This, Billie had expected. And prepared for. She reached into her satchel, and pulled out one of the gold bars Emily had snatched from her own vault, tossing it onto the table.
Mutters exploded from the people around them. Paolo narrowed his eyes. "Come with me."
Honestly, how does Emily ever struggle to do anything when she has so much money?
Natsiou is purple, Finch is not purple, so now we know where all the colours are.
Emily chewed her lip. Oh look, the woman from Dabovka is next to beer, but she can't be there, so she must be here, which means Finch has the beer and Dabovka is blue…
Okay, so, that's all the drinks done.
She turned and smiled at Jindosh, signing 'Dunwall doesn't have Barons or Baronesses. And if it did, they wouldn't drink beer.'
"I told you I'm not giving hints." Jindosh huffed, turning away. But his eyes had widened at her words.
It dimly occurred to Billie that a strange man was bringing her to his room, and she tried not to laugh.
"I'm curious. What's your business in old Stilton's house?" Paolo asked, making his way up some stairs.
"Would you believe me if I said it was historic research?" She said, staring at his rear.
Uh, not like that. There was a bulge in his trousers and—
Wow, there is no good way to say that.
Paolo chuckled. "Heh. I might. I hope you're not expecting there to be anything worth stealing. My boys have been through that house plenty of times. Nothing but rust, dust, bloodflies, and one old man."
"Stilton's still alive in there?" Billie asked, feeling a stab of excitement at the confirmation.
"Hope so. We're the ones feeding him." Paolo remarked. He rapped on a door as they walked past it. "That's Durante's room. He's the only one other than me who knows the code. Goes in every week with supplies."
"See now that's curious." Billie said. As she spoke, she activated her darkvision. "Why is a backstreet gang shouldering the responsibility of feeding one old prisoner? As a matter of fact, how did you get the password in the first place?"
She'd been right. There was something in his back pocket. It glowed under her magical sight, a small shape that was hard to make out. A bone charm? Wouldn't surprise me. There's a lot of strange rumours about this man…
"And now you're after more information. That gold will only buy you so much." Paolo reached his office. Turned, and faced her. "I have a problem, my dear. The problem of whether or not I can trust you."
"To pay up?" Billie raised an eyebrow. "You already have my gold. Surely I should be worried about whether you'll deliver."
"I always keep my promises." Paolo said, as though that was something a liar could never say. "But my question is, once you have the code, how do I know you won't go spreading it around?"
"Surely if I'm paying money for it, I'd want money to give it to anyone else?" Billie pointed out.
"Ah, but I'd much rather you didn't. Right now, I think three people know that code. None of us want the door opened. But if that number becomes four, five, ten, twenty…soon all of Karnaca knows."
"And then Jindosh has to come in and replace his lock…" Billie squinted at him, piecing it together. "Oh. You're being paid to feed him."
Paolo's face tightened ever-so-slightly.
"You're being paid by the Duke." Billie crossed her arms. "That's how you know the code, that's why you're bothering, that's why you don't want the knowledge spreading so far. Well now, that is interesting." Another thought hit her, and she smiled. "Does the gang know you're accepting the Duke's money? I'd wager not. But of course, that means you can't turn down a bar of gold for something so innocuous in front of all your men. That's why we're here. Smart man."
"And you're a smart woman." He rested a hand on the hilt of his sword. "I've killed a lot of smart women."
"And I've killed a lot of smart men. But I worry that might not stick with you…" She nodded to his…crotch (really inconvenient place to put your artefact, man —) while also letting the sleeve around her shadowy arm slide backwards, revealing some of the darkness and bone.
In Billie's defence, she hadn't actually reasoned through to 'he was probably going to kill me, pretend I started it, and take the money' until just now.
Paolo's eyes widened when he saw the arm, and she turned away, looking over the paintings on the walls. "Weird choice for you to make, taking Abele's money. Is he paying you to keep the Overseers busy too?"
"My cause is a true one." Paolo bristled. "I am going to help those in the mines. The fat men in their palaces won't change without violence, however. And I'm more than willing to use the Duke's money to fund that fight. Especially since I doubt the dumb bastard even knows who he's paying."
"I'm more curious why he's keeping Stilton alive…" Billie turned back to Paolo. "You're considering killing me because if I go in there, it might stop the Duke paying you."
"Basically."
"And what if instead I told you I was going to murder Abele's sorry ass?"
Paolo tilted his head. "You expect me to believe you could do that?"
This was a bad idea but it was going to be really funny—
Billie blinked (as in, blinked), and whipped her blade out, appearing in front of Paolo in an instant with her sword tickling his throat.
"Well, I'm reasonably confident." She answered. "And if not me, what about Emily Kaldwin?"
Bird pendant is one of these two places…this strikes me as poorly written, is the beer explicitly not the same person as the Bird pendant? Emily considered asking Jindosh, but decided it was probably cheating. Doubt its necessary, and I can needle him about it later.
She shifted, and took a swig from her waterskin.
"Getting tired?" Jindosh asked. "Want to give up?"
Oh, I'm gonna needle him so hard…
Fortunately, the ambiguity did resolve. The clash of position between name and home allowed her to place Marcolla of Karnaca on the table. And with most of the lines now completable through process of elimination…
The simple wooden barricade shattered inwards, letting through the overbearing searchlight and two dark figures.
"GRAND GUARD! EVERYONE ON THE GROUND!"
They were met by helpless screams. Figures scrabbled around in the room, fleeing the light burning in through the doorway. With the contrast between light and shadow, it was impossible to tell what was actually going on in there…until one of the figures tripped and fell right into the beam, stark white light flooding their small form.
It was a boy. No older than eight.
Now inside, Bella looked across at Bridget with a doomed expression. "Guess your hunch was right. This one is occupied."
"I'm sorry." Bridget looked aghast, stepping backwards until she hit the wall. "I didn't know who—didn't think—"
"Easy, you didn't do anything wrong." Bella leaned over and squeezed her shoulder. Winced, as the screams continued.
"SOMEONE SHUT THAT DAMN THING OFF!" She roared back outside. "THERE'S NO TRAITORS HERE!"
"No! Please!" A woman threw herself in front of the young boy, who'd seemingly been unable to stand. Her face was dirtied and bloody, pockmarked with strange blotches. "They're just children! Please don't kill them, they haven't—"
"Shh, it's okay! It's okay!" Bridget ran over, dropping to one knee and putting a hand on the woman's shoulder. (That was all Bella saw before the floodlight went out, and she was left blind as her eyes adjusted.) "What is all this? This area's supposed to be abandoned!"
The screams were dropping in volume and intensity. Squinting about, Bella picked out almost ten different voices.
"They didn't have anywhere else to go." The woman sobbed—a broken, wince-inducing sound. "We needed somewhere, I thought—thought I could—clear out the bloodflies and then—"
"Bloodflies?" Bella asked, stepping forwards and making the woman flinch. She looked around, getting used to the darkness, and sure enough: The remains of three decent-sized bloodfly nests hung around the room. The place was really two small rooms, with the dividing wall torn apart entirely, and a similar level of disrepair on every other surface.
The air was thick with dust, human waste, and panic, and Bella had to put a hand to her mouth to keep from coughing or gagging.
"You cleaned those out yourself?" She asked.
"I had a pistol." The woman was still crying. "Only one bullet, but it helped, and then I…I used a lit piece of driftwood to set them on fire—" She looked up at them, desperately, the sting marks on her face even more apparent. "I was going to use the amber to buy food, but you can take it, it's yours! Just don't hurt them, please."
"We're not taking anything from you." Bridget reassured her, moving past to give a weak smile at the child cowering behind her. "Hey, little guy! Easy, we don't—"
The boy cried louder, trying to crawl away. One of his legs, Bella noticed, was sticking out at an odd angle. Bridget looked horrified.
"What are you doing here?" Bella asked. "Shouldn't these kids be—Anywhere?"
"The orphanages closed." The woman said, shakily. Her crying had stopped, but she didn't look any better for it. "The Duke just—cut funding, the day after the new Empress was crowned. We tried to get by but—but then they came and repossessed the building and—"
Bridget turned and ran outside.
Bella winced, reaching down and helping the woman stand up. "I'm sorry, I don't —are any of you injured? No, stupid question, I know, are any of you really injured?"
"Micah can't walk. His leg." She said, practically collapsing into Bella. It was a wonder she'd been able to stand in the first place. "Alessandro can't keep his food down—the others have seen something moving under his skin. Pella…she's still breathing, but she hasn't woken up in two days."
She looked up, eyes bloodshot, tears leaving streaks of moisture down her face. "Are you here to help us?"
"I—" Bella gulped. "I have to—you should—hold on, okay?"
She set the woman down, and then bolted out the room as well.
Bridget was making the most of her new lieutenant's pips, shouting orders at the men arrayed outside. She stopped as Bella approached, taking a deep breath and leaning against the wall.
This was the twelfth building they'd raided that shift. The third to have squatters.
"Tell me there's something we can do." Bridget said, putting her hands. "Please tell me there's something we can do."
Bella looped an arm around Bridget's shoulder, but didn't say anything. She couldn't, because if she opened her mouth the truth would come out, and nobody needed to hear that right now.
There's no way this woman's paying taxes. Everyone in there is an 'unsavoury element'. People who aren't important don't get put in prison anymore. Looking after prisoners is expensive. Cleaning sabres is cheap.
Bridget leaned into her arm, not looking up. "I know a place that might take the girls." She muttered. "But I don't—I don't know if I want them to go there."
"For the love of the Void…" Bella grimaced. "The Abbey, maybe?"
A pause from Bridget. "…Byrne's running an army, not a charity. But there's a chance. What about Addermire?"
"Closed, following…you know, that time when we were…" Bella shut her mouth, and squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe if she didn't have to see anything, it would be easier.
I wish I was back chasing Emily Kaldwin through the Cyria district. I wish Emily Kaldwin had never come to this fucking city.
"Bella…" Bridget said, quietly. "…I don't think I wanna do this anymore. I don't…I don't want to be a part of—"
"Hey." Bella said, firmly, moving to stand in front of Bridget and pulling her hands down. The redhead looked awful, like she hadn't slept in days.
"We just need to find the criminals, okay?" Bella said, as reassuringly as she could. "We just get Kaldwin and her conspirators, and then everything will go back to normal."
A sudden, wailing sound emerged through the gaps in the walls.
Bridget looked at Bella with tired eyes. "Will it?"
And Bella didn't say anything, because there wasn't anything she could say.
Jindosh was not asleep, but he was certainly trying to look that way.
Sleep eluded him at the best of times. His mind simply never stopped wandering. But lying on this chilly stone bench, with the whistling of the wind and Emily's tapping in his ears (she was constantly tapping, it was obnoxious) the attempt was functionally impossible.
But of course, the objective was not to actually sleep. It was to look calm while Emily worked, when in fact he was anything but.
Jindosh didn't like watching her work. She was calm, methodical, thoughtful. Where most people would simply run up against a sticking point and stare at it, until either a solution presented itself or they gave up…Emily sat back, read through what she had, looked at it from a different angle (sometimes literally, from the odd poses she'd contorted into) and then kept going.
To be clear, Jindosh didn't think his lock was difficult. To him, the pieces interlocked simply, obviously, beautifully, and led inexorably to the one conclusion. But everyone else clearly did, as evidenced by the fact that nobody had cracked it in over a year since he'd installed it. The conclusion was obvious: Something about the unwashed masses was broken, that was only intact in certain enlightened individuals such as himself. And there was simply no way in the Void that Emily Kaldwin was among that number, because if there was anyone in this world that was clearly broken, it was the woman who had become a great shadowy monster-beast on his balcony—
The sound of fingers snapping jolted him out of his thoughts. He turned, to see Emily looking at him with a smile. She tapped the paper she'd been writing on with the back of her knuckles.
The five-by-five table on it was full.
"No." He said, flatly. Because that was impossible. His internal clock said it had barely been an hour.
Emily shrugged, and walked over to the door.
'Your problem, Jindosh, is that you think there's only one kind of smart.' She wrote out on her palm, after tossing the paper to his feet. 'This wasn't really a riddle, you know?'
"Excuse me?" He demanded, storming to his feet.
'Riddles require thinking outside the box. They require a creative approach. That's what I'm good at. This' she gestured to the paper, 'this was just a box filling exercise. It was fun, yes, but only because its satisfying to put all the connections together into one big web. I could do it because I'm smart, and because that's what an Empress does. Put all the interlocking pieces together. But it's not really a good indicator of who I am.'
Jindosh stared at her, and didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say, because she was claiming that she saw the puzzle the exact same way he saw the puzzle and that wasn't possible.
'I come up with creative solutions.' She wrote, staring into his eyes. 'If I wasn't doing this as a fun challenge, I'd be joining Thomas in stealing the answer. Or getting Thomas to tear the door open. Or climbing up these tall, but ultimately insufficient walls. Or if I had my tongue, I could have sung the answer out of you. Or even without it, I could have put you unconscious and taken the answer from your dreams. Or, you know, done this.'
She turned to the door. Jindosh barely had time to stretch his hand out and shout "Wait—" before she pulled back her shadowy arm and slammed it into the door. He flinched backwards as the darkness flooded into the door's inner workings, spinning the tumblers and making a cacophony of clicking, screeching, rending noises.
Emily, for her part, seemed for all the world like she was trying to reach something she'd dropped behind the sofa. She looked entirely away from the process, biting her lip in focus, until eventually her eyes widened and there was a series of thunks. She stepped away from the contraption, withdrawing the monstrous appendage that liked to pretend it was an arm, as the bolts pulled back and the doors groaned open.
Somewhere during all that, Jindosh's jaw had dropped. He took another few steps backwards as Emily looked at him, smiled again, and signed 'It's time to decide what you care about, Kirin. Your pride? Your safety? Your life? And who do you think's the best at assuring that last one? Me, Delilah, or Mike?'
Jindosh blinked. "I…I don't…who's Mike?"
Emily's smile widened into a grin.
'Mike Litoris.' She signed. Then turned and walked through the doors.
Jindosh stared after her for a long few seconds. Then dropped to his knees, scrabbling to pick up and straighten the paper she'd been working on.
It didn't really surprise him to confirm that she'd gotten the puzzle right.
Don't worry guys I know you all read my fanfiction for the intellectual debates, I've got you covered.
I did actually sit down and beat the Jindosh lock in the middle of writing this chapter, and use that as a guide for what Emily was doing. It did actually take me about an hour. It's my third time getting into Stilton Manor that way; I just find it really funny that you can skip an entire mission by sitting down and doing a logic puzzle. The image of Emily doing that was one of the first things I decided to realise when I started writing this fic. That, and the horrified look on Jindosh's face.
But now, she's in! Hope y'all're ready for some casual time travel!