Downtown Druid

Book 2 Chapter 37: I Want to Talk

He awoke without either Clay or his sister in his garden, though he could sense that they’d been there recently. He found Jacopo sleeping peacefully next to him on a bedding of old leaves, and a number of feathers from his own pillow. He raised his left hand, turning it forward and backward. It looked nearly identical to the hand he had before, but on close inspection a fine wood grain could be seen.

He clenched and unclenched it a few times, then turned his attention to his marks. He and Jacopo had nearly emptied them during their clash with Mondego, but now they seemed to be nearly refilled. He sent out his senses to each of his gardens, finding them in relatively good condition except for an unsteady roof that had finally collapsed costing a group of pigeons to lose their nesting spot, and a small group of feral cats and dogs starting to hunt smaller vermin near his third garden. He’d have to be careful with that, it was only natural for them to feed on his allies, and he didn’t want to risk earning favor from their gods.

He extended his senses further, taking control of a few rats and roaches and sending them to different areas he needed to check on. The Vixen was ashes, as were a number of other pubs, storefronts and even a flophouse near it. He could smell the remnants of smoke through the rat’s nose and clenched his fist, accidentally making the rat copy his dramatic gesture. There were a number of guards near the scene, but they didn’t seem concerned with doing anything aside from motioning people to move around any structural damage. That didn’t surprise him.

He shifted perspective to a different rat he had moving toward Mondego’s Manor. He usually allowed the rats to navigate on their own, letting them have free reign beyond needing them to get to the target, but this time he took the personal interest to control its every movement. He dashed through alleyways, climbed the edge of Mondego’s fence, then nothing. His connection was suddenly and violently cut off.

Dantes blinked. He was still laying on his bedroll, the sun was high in the sky. He extended his senses again, this time finding two rats and sending them one after the other. They wove their way through alleys, some different and others the same as he’d just been through. He had one rat hang back while the other one climbed under the fence this time. He made it a bit further, then it combusted, dying instantly.

Dantes released the other rat, letting it scurry away in fear, and woke a nearby bat from its slumber. They really didn’t like that, but he needed to know more about what was happening. He sent the bat over Mondego’s manner, using its unique senses to detect what was happening around the Manor. He found no fewer than ten thugs all around the outer and inner garden. Most had crossbows, and two were clearly mages, wielding a long staff and a long thing wand respectively.

Dantes released the bat and let it return to its sleep. It made sense. Mondego now knew that he had control of rats, roaches, and bats. He moved to send some roaches toward the manor. They made it into the exterior, but instead of a sudden cessation of life he felt them slowly weaken and die before the connection broke. He seemed to be using some kind of poison for the roaches.

He took a deep breath, and exhaled. It would slow him down, but he would be able to find another way in. He was glad he didn’t send any rats with the enchanted keys, that would’ve been a serious waste. Dantes had a different rat approach him and gave him one of the enchanted keys as he sat up from his bedroll. He was careful not to awaken Jacopo. He wasn’t certain, but he had a feeling that he had been staying awake longer to watch over him.

As the rat made its way toward uptown, Dantes worked on cleaning himself up. He found a clean rag and water and wiped himself down, then looked at himself in the mirror. There were no signs of the injuries Mondego had inflicted on him aside from some very small scars. He opened his mouth to see a new tooth beginning to sprout from where Mondego had knocked it out. One benefit of elvish ancestry was regrowing teeth. Humans only got the two sets, and he’d once met a half elf that had inherited his human mothers teeth and was forced to rely on dentures once his last tooth rotted out in his early hundreds. He was lucky to have elvish teeth, though the regrowth took some time and teething was not the most pleasant thing to deal with, even as an adult.

Dantes picked a pear from one of the trees and started eating from it as he began a small fire to make more. By the time he was wiping the remains of some pork from his face, the rat he’d sent from uptown had made it to Danglar’s place of work. It was late afternoon by then, and just after lunch, so no one was paying too close of attention when the rat made its way inside. Danglar’s office door was open, and his secretaries were at their respective desks doing their best to appear busy. One of them had a series of fresh bruises on her face and a handmark on her neck. Dantes moved the rat into Danglar’s office, where Danglar’s was muttering to himself as he drummed his fingers against his desk. The letter Dantes had forged copying Danglar's mother’s writing was in front of him. Rat hearing was good, but Dantes only caught snatches of what Danglars was saying.

“-dead. Had the grave checked-”

“-Priest said-”

“-fucking Mondego-”

“-girl shouldn’t have fucking been out anyway-”

“-Dantes back. Maybe good-”

“- kill them both-”

Dantes listened to several parts repeat themselves as Mondego spoke. It seemed that the Prosa was working, which meant that Dosia had been upholding her part of the bargain at the Cruel Lady. He’d have to pay her another visit, both she and Felix were likely expecting him to call on them soon. If he didn’t remind them why they were working with him, it could force him to remind them in a more violent way.

Dantes set some vermin in the usual holding patterns around the things he monitored, and began doing some light work around the garden. Once that was done, he sat at the makeshift desk he’d constructed and began to write a number of letters in the hand of Cornelia of the house of Forteville.

Dearest Danglars,

Since you have yet to visit me, I feel obligated to tell you what to expect when you join me in my current estate. In the morning I am awoken by the pained screams of the burning dead, it is not unlike the caw of a rooster, which makes me feel no better than those filthy brutes that till fields. After that I am impaled by thorned pikes which weave their way through every part of my being, but the pain always ceases to allow me enough of a respite that I do not lose my mind. In the afternoon, I am eaten alive by a swarm of small imp-like creatures with teeth mad of jagged metal and spit that burns wounds like salt. Once I’m fully consumed, I am removed from them as waste and feel the disparate parts of me as they burn as fuel to raise the fires of the hells every higher. These things happen in no actual order, mind you, and I am unsure of whether it is days that pass, or years, or seconds. Sometimes I feel as if I exist in absence and nothingness for decades, and other times my eyes burn from light that seems to shine on me for millenia. The only comfort I have is the knowledge that I will see you soon.

-From the honorable Madame Cornelia of the house of Forteville, A founding house of Rendhold

After that particularly colorful letter he wrote one expressing her disapproval for Danglar’s activities at the Cruel Lady, and a third one which just said, “I’m watching you” over and over again in her hand, covering an entire page. They weren’t exactly subtle, but it wasn’t really about subtlety.

Dantes stood up and stretched, shifting his focus between the vermin he had watching Mondego’s place. He smiled, as he flexed his wooden hand. Mondego was going to fucking burn for what he’d done. He’d planned a quick death for him after taking all that he held dear, but now he would be granted no such luxury. Dantes was going to have rats eat him from the toes up while roaches crawled in his ears, and bats shat in his mouth. He wouldn't even be able to beg for death, as his tongue would be fed to his own starving dogs.

The door to the manor opened, and Dantes put his full focus on it. Mercedes stepped out of the front door, and began to walk toward the gate. Two bodyguards followed her, clearly arguing with her and demanding she stay.

She whipped around and smacked one of them in the face. Despite the man being twice her size, he nearly fell over from the force of the slap. She said something else, this time in a calmer tone, and walked out from the front gate and into the main street. She made her way down one alley, then another, then another, in a kind of winding and senseless pattern. She always checked behind herself and on the ground. Dantes shifted his attention to whatever vermin were near her, while tracking her throughout the city. Alone and vulnerable? Dantes felt the temptation to take action rise in him.

She stopped, suddenly, looking at a large rat biting a small chicken bone in half to get at the sweet marrow within. She met the rat’s eyes, and Dantes’s.

“Dantes. I know you’re back. I want to talk.”

Dantes didn’t take control of the rat as it observed Mercedes. Letting it scurry away into the alley, leaving Mercedes wondering if he received her message, and Dantes wondering what he should do with it.

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