Doctor's orders

Callista reached for the key to Emily's room rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She was fine with early mornings, it was in her job description, but she had made a point of warning her superiors that no-one woke her up before 6 o'clock except in extreme emergencies. And there was no way this was actually that serious. "I'm positive, Admiral." She sighed, as the clock struck half four. "Wallace was stationed on the only exit; you think Samuel sleeps lightly? I don't think Wallace sleeps. look, no-one could have gotten in to see her unless they could teleport, or maybe climb walls."

She heard a small gurgling noise from him, but decided to ignore it as she turned the key in the lock. "I really don't know what you're worried about, she-"

"Hey, who turned the lights on?" The two adults in the doorway gaped at the boy grumbling at them from beneath a pile of spare clothes. Next to him, on the bed, Emily opened her eyes. "Oh, hello Callista. Is it morning already?"

Callista blinked. Twice. Then looked back at the boy on the floor. "Uh, Emily? Who is this?"

Emily smiled up at her. "Oh, he's a street urchin who has the rat plague."

Behind her, Havelock had drawn his pistol and seemed to be wondering what to do with it. "Um, Empress…" He said, slowly. "Why is… he… here?"

The boy smiled at him, sitting up and stretching. "Oh, my boss sent me to look after the empress. Name's Thomas."

Havelock's hand on the pistol shook the tiniest amount. "Your…Boss?"

Thomas casually hefted a chair with his pinkie finger before thumping it down and sitting on it, eyes staring intently at Havelock. "Yup. That a problem?"

Callista seemed annoyed. "We don't even know who you are or how you got in here! Do you really think we are going to just let you stay?"

"Of course we will." Havelock said hurriedly from behind her. "We'll have a bath prepared for you, those rags look filthy. Now if you'll excuse us." He grabbed Callista and hoisted her out the room and onto the walkway, taking her across the roof of Pierro's workshop. "What on earth has gotten into you Havelock?" Callista rounded on him for a moment before realising who she was speaking to. "I mean- I do apologise, Admiral, it's just… what?"

Havelock sighed. "Unless I'm grossly mistaken, that child's 'boss' just did us a huge favour."

"Sir!" Samuel's voice came from the courtyard beneath them. "Paper, and you won't believe the top story! Some witch and a boy just broke into golden cat and kidnapped the Pendletons! Some terrified witnesses are calling her the void singer!"

Havelock took in a deep breath as the maid gaped, finger pointing at Havelock, then Samuel, then Emily's room. "Callista, have something nice sent up to my room will you? I think I need a lie down."

._.

"Do you think they bought it?" Thomas called out from the bathroom, a few hours later. Emily sighed, from her position guarding the door. "The royal spymaster is a traitorous son of a hagfish, but he taught me some things that are useful. For example, lies are best concealed in truths."

"You're going on an anecdote again!" Thomas' voice echoed, accompanied by sloshing.

"I know, don't interrupt it. The loyalists think you were sent to protect me by a witch, which is completely true. They think you and a scary witch lady are helping them get me in power, which is also completely true. The only thing they don't know is that I am the witch, which is good because I can't become empress if the dominant religion of the isles hates me."

"So that's the game plan." Came Thomas' voice. "Use Outsider magic to disgrace or otherwise remove all traitors, get revenge on Daud for killing your mother, cure the rat plague (and then me, please) and takeover the isles. Simple. What's the first step?"

"Get out of the bath." Emily huffed. "It's cold out here, and you'll be getting gunk in the water!"

._.

"Pierro?"

Emily cautiously wandered into the workshop, examining the various technical devices with complete confusion. "Ah, miss Kaldwin! Please, come upstairs, it's slightly more hospitable." Emily wandered up the metal grate and onto a balcony area where Pierro was engaging in his favourite pastime: Tinkering. "If you look on the bedside table you'll see your slingshot m'lady." He said from the whateveritwas. "I've made some improvements to it; you'll be able to kill a crow at fifty metres if you aim straight." He paused. "Of course, I don't know why you'll need that much power at that range, but we live in dangerous times. Why, I don't doubt you could send a man unconscious at five- ah, forget I said that."

Emily picked up the improved slingshot, noting a scope and a different elastic, and pocketed it. "Hey Pierro, I have a question. How does the rat plague… work?"

._.

Thomas crept through the sewers, keeping an eye out for river crusts. A rat skittered by his feet, and he hastily squashed it. He hated being guilt tripped into things. "Oh no there are weepers, oh wouldn't it be so great if a certain someone would help, subtle look in your direction, hint hint." He muttered to himself in an artificially high voice, rolling his eyes and looking further in. There was a weeper there, crouched over a wrecked bench of some kind and coughing up blood. Even without his sight, he could feel the rune nearby it. Quietly, but quickly, he padded forwards, coming up behind the weeper and fingering the dart of sleep poison in his pocket. Behind it, he drew out the dart, eyes pinpointing its neck. Then the groan of the second weeper emanated from behind him.

._.

Pierro looked at her and inched his glasses up his nose, clearly moving into 'lecture mode'. "Well, the plague appears to be bacterial. It's symptoms are simple; the afflicted experiences general poor health, then damage to the skin, then coughing blood, before losing their senses and attacking others, which has the unfortunate effect of afflicting them as well. We know it is transmitted by the rats, who breed rapidly in such sickly conditions, however its origin is difficult to discern. Usually plagues that sweep through places do so because they are passed from foreign countries who are themselves resistant to it, a likely cause, being a multi-island empire, yet research from a friend of mine, Dr Galvani-" Emily winced, slightly "Implies that it originated deep inside Dunwall, rather than from somewhere else, almost as though it was introduced artificially.."

Emily thought for a moment, absorbing the info. "And what about curing it?"

Pierro frowned. "What is with this sudden…Ah. The boy." Emily nodded. "Well in that case…"

._.

Thomas looked at the weeper. The weeper looked at Thomas. Then the weeper turned around and began shuffling off in the other direction. Thomas let out the breath he had been holding and looked down at his wound, obscured by the bandages he wore around it (despite eschewing a shirt) Okay. So that works. There were some perks to being almost the definition of plagued. He grabbed the weeper by the shoulder and raised the sleep dart.

._.

Pierro lifted up a phial of the remedy from the desk beside him, holding it up to the light. "This is my concoction. I have been forced to rely on materials derived from the nearby river crusts, hunting them has become a kind of sport among us here at the Hound Pits. However, the Royal Physician, Anton Sokolov, has far more resources at his disposal." Pierro lifted up a red phial. "I have of course analysed this, as I have no doubt he has analysed mine, but without knowledge of its creation process, there is little it can do to help me. If Sokolov were here, working with me, we may be able to create something that could actually cure weepers… but it's frankly impossible."

Emily turned away, not trusting her expression. "And is there anything else that would help?"

Pierro chuckled. "Well, I suppose having a live weeper would be useful. But I sincerely doubt that-"

"Hey! Anyone want a live weeper?" The pair looked out through the window to where the 10 year old Thomas was, in apparent violation of physics, casually carrying two weepers over his shoulders, with a maid gushing over him. There was a pause (in which Pierro suspended his disbelief and Emily believed) before the two ran downstairs to confront the grinning boy.

._.

"Alright, miss Kaldwin, we will only be gone for a few hours." Treavor Pendleton stated, as he, the Admiral and Overseer Martin got into the taxi-on-rails-thing that would take them to parliament. "Try to stay out of trouble. Please. We don't want to lose you on Bottle Street again, do we?"

Emily and Thomas both nodded their heads sincerely, and continued to do so as the car left. And then-

._.

Samuel stared at the two children looking up at him. "You want me to take you where?"

Here! Have an interlude! Hopefully this sets some things straight with you all. Next week, dey be goin on a bridge. See y'all!