The Queen's Champion

Chapter 6

David  purses his lips as he watches a guard hold up a single rat by its tail.

He’d been able to weave through the back alleys of Bottle Street territory to come out on the other side of the wall of light-the rat, however, was not so lucky. It dangled in the air, screaming and frantically running it’s paws, as the guards chuckled and prepared to fry it whole.

Sabrina always had a soft spot for rats. She liked animals in general, but she loved the little furry ankle-nippers. David  was constantly admonishing her for bringing them inside when she was younger, and the maids at Dunwall Tower certainly weren’t pleased when she started doing it there. Once her natural philosophy tutor had her do some sort of biology research project and, to no one’s surprise, she chose to do it on rats. David  had listened to rat facts at the breakfast table for months.

It was a cruel sort of irony, he supposes, that the plague choking the life out of Dunwall was carried by the Empress’s favorite animal.

Still, though, it wasn’t the rats’ fault. They didn’t know better. When the guard goes to flick the rat into the wall of light, David  reaches his hand out and Pulls it right out of the air.

The guards startle back and start looking around, confused. David  places the ruffled but unharmed rat on the ground.

“Empress has ordered a stay of execution for you,” he whispers, patting the rat on the behind. “Go on. Git. Don’t make me regret it.”

The rat scurries off, and David  has to take a moment to roll his eyes at himself before he gets back up, Blinks to the roofs and crosses over to Holger Square.

There’s either a dead or unconscious man heaped on the steps in front of the stocks. David  might have gone to check on him, if he weren’t an Overseer.

He hated coming to Holger Square with Sabrina for a number of reasons. The first several were just that he hated Overseers, but the last one was that Holger Square was a f*****g assassin’s playground.

There was a ledge that ran all around the building proper, plenty wide and obscured by shadows in places, depending on the time of day and how obnoxiously large their banners were that month.  A sniper’s paradise. Little nooks and crannies, checkpoints around the area where agents or explosives could be placed. One would think that being surrounded by armed men with an interest in protecting the Empress would dissuade anyone looking to cause trouble, but they’d be surprised.

The main hall inside was just as open, he knew, but there was at least less places for someone to hide and get a shot off on important public officials. Upstairs, however, was a mess of blind corners, high shelves, and prayer partitions. Plenty of hiding spaces, clustered close enough together that someone could step out and have assaulted the Empress within a few short seconds. David  never let himself fall more than a step and a half behind her while they were being ushered through the halls.

The trouble with Overseers was that they wore masks . Anyone who could get their hands on a mask and a uniform had free roam of the place, and nobody would question who they were and why they were armed. Not until they had their sword through their mark’s chest. It had never actually happened, thankfully, but the idea was always in David ’s mind.

That’s what he should have done, donned an Overseer mask. Then he could have just walked in, pretended he was mute to avoid giving his voice away. If they had had more time, he’s sure Jerome could have dug something up.

David  Blinks onto the awning. He stands there for a moment to look over the street, ensuring no one had seen him, then turns the corner into the square proper.

On important occasions, the Overseers might drag out  a small, makeshift stage to host whatever had gathered a crowd big enough to require the space. A few times it’s been a speech from the Empress, which was a security headache for David . It’s also been host to executions. And many other events in between. Other than those occasions, the square has always been clear.

Tonight, the square is filled with all manners of crates and boxes, stacked haphazardly wherever there’s room. David  squints to read the names printed on the sides. Shipments of whale oil, explosives and firearms. Weapons.

The Overseers had a goddamn armory. Far larger than any religious body had any right to. If they were leaving supplies out in the square, both putting it in danger of being rained on and ruining the simple and clean aesthetic the architecture is supposed to represent, then the armory is full. Or they just received this shipment, though there’s no one attempting to bring any of it in. And why would they ever need firepower on this scale?

The Overseers were going to war. That much was obvious, but the question of with who remained. The plague was the most dire threat Dunwall was facing at the time. They couldn’t be fighting the rats, unless the Overseers were even stupider than they’d proven themselves to be in the past. Were they breaking the blockade, waging war against the other Isles in response to them cutting contact with Dunwall? Were they doing it on Delilah’s orders?

Whatever the case, it hopefully wouldn’t come to fruition. David  would get Anthony on the throne and they’d put a stop to anything the Abbey was planning. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. Starting a war with the other Isles would be a pointless waste of life and money, and would strain the already thin relationship Gristol had with the rest of the Empire. And Delilah’s ideas were always horrible. Nothing good could come from it.

In any case, the excess of crap would make sneaking around a bit easier. At least.

David  slips into an open window and Blinks to the top of a lamp. The entire building would go into lockdown if he was spotted, doors barred and thick metal sheets coming down to block off the windows, and then he’d have to exit out the chimney or something. Best to keep above their heads.

He hears chatter from farther down, but the hallway seems relatively clear. He had to find where Zhukov was being held. Sabrina would probably know, though whether she would tell him was another matter. David  pulls out the Talisman just in case.

‘The Overseers always get their confessions, whether or not they are truly guilty. They are brought bruised and bloody, in chains and already broken before they even meet the interrogators. They will never leave.’

“Yes, Billie, but where?” David  groans, letting the Talisman evaporate in his hand. She did, however, show him a bone. It was something.

The lamps are perfectly spaced for him to Blink to each of them, but he’s careful to stick to the tops of bookcases and crates when he can. The chains the lights hang from are strong enough to hold his weight, for the most part, but he didn’t want to risk finding a weak link. Not to mention the lamps would always sway slightly when he Blinked away, which might attract attention.

David  slips into the room where the bone is located through the transom window above the door, used for circulating cool air in the summer months-why it’s open now, in the Month of High Cold, is beyond him. It’s slightly warmer inside the building proper, but David  is still glad he has on his coat and thick gloves.

Once he’s inside, he recognizes the room. The hallways were odd and foreign from above, not to mention the sheer amount of crap that litters the floor. But he remembers this place. It’s the official meeting room, with a table long enough to seat ten and a fireplace large enough to warm it all.

It’s above the fireplace that he spots it. David  Blinks forward and snatches the rune off the wall. There’s a plaque spouting some bullshit about temptation, but David  barely skims it before Blinking back up to the ledge. He doesn’t know how he stood behind Billie’s chair all those times, stone-faced and focused on his work when that was right here.

Two of the doors open out to the hallway, but David  can’t remember what’s behind the third one. He doubts Zhukov is back there, as he can hear several voices and they seem in rather good spirits.

There’s a tray with two glasses of wine, though the wine is now dripping onto the floor, as the glasses had been smashed. Like two people tried to toast especially hard and ended up breaking their cups. Sabrina had done that once, at her eighteenth birthday party. The first one David  had let her drink at, and she had gotten drunk faster than he expected. It turned out that the fine crystal tumblers at Dunwall Tower were more delicate than the mugs at the bars she visited when she donned a hat and snuck out. She tried to toast Lord Perth and ended up in the Royal Physician’s office, getting shards of glass picked out of her hand.

“You remember that, Bils?” David  takes out the Talisman and gives it a squeeze. “I remember how much you hated those fancy parties. I’d probably be driven to drink too.”

Sabrina is quiet, but only for a moment, and when she does speak David  gets the impression that she was paying attention to something else.

‘Such corruption! Selfishness, hypocrisy.’ She spits, as angry as David  had ever seen her. ‘Make me look upon it no more.’

Her voice is thick with disgust. David  respects her wishes, and lets the Talisman fade.

He wouldn’t find Zhukov here. He runs through his options as slides back through the window, looking down the long hallway from above. He remembers there’s a library up here, and kennels downstairs. Living quarters behind the building proper. Would they keep him in the kennels? Or did they have holding cells out back?

No, there was an interrogation room on this floor, wasn’t there? They had set up a would-be assassin in there once, after one particularly pathetic attempt at shooting the Empress on Abbey grounds. Sabrina had wanted to face the man and the High Overseer tried to scare her away, citing how gruesome the interrogation could be. The blood hadn’t even fazed her. David  had been proud.

He sneaks down the hallway, passing the archives and stopping in front of the sign that marked the room as the interrogation room. David  blinks, activating Void Gaze. Four people inside, three crowded around the interrogation chair. One strapped to it. Zhukov, the bastard.

David  Blinks to the top of the door, sliding through the upper window the same way he did in the meeting room. Zhukov looks exactly the way Edgar Wakefield had described, like a bug. Wrapped head to toe in thick Tyvian furs, aside from the oversized red goggles on his face.

“I say we unwrap just the hands.” One of the Overseers scoffs. “Get started on his fingernails and see if that makes him talk.”

“I’m not going to be the one touching him! You saw Brother Franklin after he tried peeling back the hood. He’s still in the infirmary, and none of his babbling makes any sense!”

‘He sings a song under his breath to stave off the fear. A harsh song, condemning the Outsider and warding off magic. But beautiful, in a way. I wish you could hear it.’

The Overseer throws his hands up. “Well, isolation hasn’t worked so far! What do you propose we do?”

The third Overseer holds up a large metal poker. “I’ve been hitting him with this. Hasn’t really reacted, though.”

‘He’s not a believer. He has no care whether they’re guilty or innocent. He tortures them anyway.’

The Overseer in charge scoffs and turns away, walking away to face the metal bars on the other side of the room. David  waits for the Overseer with the big stick to turn his head ever so slightly, then steps into the air.

He extends his wrist as he falls, his bolt piercing the back of the Overseer’s skull. Falls on the other one, and inserts his sword between his shoulder blades, pulling down once before taking it out to ensure he’d gotten something vital. The last Overseer has turned around by this point, alerted by the blood splatter from the first one, but David  is already up and advancing, and-

‘He set the hounds on them. His sister and nephew. His stomach burned with jealousy.’

-he thrusts his palm out and hits the Overseer in the mask, enough to stun him for just a second. Long enough for David  to put his blade through his heart.

Zhukov is silent throughout it all. David  turns around, wondering if he died under there and the Overseers were too thick to notice it. But no, his head still moves, his eyes following David  around the room. David steps forward and pushes the button to release his bonds.

To his surprise, Zhukov doesn’t move right away. He simply continues staring at David , or at least he assumes so. He can’t see anything in those goggles besides his own reflection. Finally, though, Zhukov leans forward.

“Thank you,” he breathes, getting to his feet. “Their line of questioning was rather ineffective, but it’s been quite a bother being stuck here.”

Zhukov stands to his full height and David  notes, with some displeasure, that he’s tall. Obscenely tall. Definitely over six feet, may even be closer to seven. David  maybe comes up to his armpits, and that’s in his lifts.

So that explains how he got caught. No way a guy of his size could be stealthy. But how it the world did these Overseers manage to subdue him?

“It’s a pleasure,” David  says gruffly. He’d hold out his hand to shake, but he’s not entirely sure he wants to touch Zhukov either.

Zhukov doesn’t seem to mind, already wandering away to examine the grains on the door. “You’re David , I take it. I apologize for not being present for your arrival. I had planned to be back by the time Miss Elizabeth made her way back with you, but the universe had different plans.”

That was one way of looking at it. David  stands back and folds his arms. “You think you can make it back to Lizzy without getting caught again? I still have work to do.”

“Oh?” Zhukov turns back, but doesn’t appear to even look at David . “I assume you’re referring to Luca Abele’s demise? Yes, it would be prudent to get that out of the way, as long as we’re here.” He turns back to the apparently very fascinating door. “There is some other business that required my attention here, at the Abbey. I came for an artifact they have in lockdown, but during my stakeout I overheard some very distressing information, regarding the likes of Miss Fleet and Mister Wakefield, concerning a conspiracy.”

“They know you’re the ones who broke me out?” David ’s stomach drops. That alone wouldn’t ruin them, but if they could trace their association to other members of the group, to their hiding place… The mill was supposedly under Lizzy’s name, having legally inherited it, so they could possibly glean their location from that, if Lizzy herself was implicated.

But Zhukov shakes his head. “Oh no. Well, they might think that now. You were still in prison at the time.” He might be chuckling to himself, but the sound is so odd and muted that David  can’t be sure. “No, they think they’re the ones who have young Anthony. Possibly that they contracted you to kill the Empress. Who knows what theories these men come up with?”

Well, that would be partially true, fairly soon at least. They would be holding Anthony, though Anthony would be far from a captive.

But this showed that the Abbey wasn’t involved in Delilah’s ‘ring of treachery’, as Slackjaw put it. They weren’t in on the plan to off the Empress, and didn’t know that it was Delilah who had orchestrated the takeover. They thought Anthony was really missing, not just sequestered away somewhere until Delilah decided to reveal him.

“So what exactly were you trying to do when you were captured?” David  scratches his chin. “Take out the High Overseer?”

“That would be unnecessary. All information pertaining to our allies will be kept in the archives, so taking those for ourselves and doing away with the archivist should throw them off our trail.” He pauses then, still staring at the damn wood. “Plus they took my knife.”

David  blinks. “Your...knife.”

“Yes.”

“We have...you know, we have spare swords back at base.” David  kicks the limp arm of an Overseer by his feet. “You can take one of these ones too.”

“I would like my knife back. I’m quite partial to it.”

Right. Well, one would think he would be more partial to his fingernails, but David  supposes he also had some screwed up priorities somewhere, so he probably wasn’t one to judge.

“Okay.” David  breathes out, not caring if Zhukov sees him rolling his eyes. “Archives are right across the hall. Let’s go get your knife back.”

Zhukov opens the door, much to David ’s displeasure. It was really no wonder he got himself captured. A clock chimes somewhere and David  follows him through the door, because it would just be weird to climb over it now, and carefully closes it behind him. Someone would find the bodies, eventually. He would need to be gone by then.

Void Gaze only showed one person inside, but the room was too big for it to fully cover. There could be more. David  blinks it away and turns to Zhukov. “I’ll go in first, take care of anyone inside. Give me two minutes, then follow me.”

Zhukov is staring at him intensely. David  suddenly wonders what his eyes actually look like when he activates his Gaze.

But then Zhukov nods, shuffles his enormous body to look across the hallway, towards the window. “I’ll be waiting.”

David  wiggles through the transom window again, perching himself on the ledge. Part of the library is up a level, putting the floor even with David ’s position, so he’d have to be careful. There are indeed two people on the lower floor, one bent over a table and the other standing guard. He can hear another voice from the upper half, and Void Gaze confirms it’s only one person. Probably the archivist. Talking to himself, apparently. Weirdos.

‘Do not weep or make a sound, for that will bring the ‘seer’s hound.’ Sabrina whispers, sounding for all the world like the little girl who used to sing that same rhyme when she was bored, who taught it to Anthony while David  was too busy cooking dinner to shush her. They didn’t need to be afraid of Overseers. David would protect them. He told them.

He Blinks, landing on the guard and pushing him to the ground, blade on his throat. Blinks behind the other, inserts his sword at the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

The archivist is none the wiser. David  Blinks up to the partition and looks down on the menagerie of notes and maps laid out over the table, with the archivist bent over studying it all. David  jumps. Lands squarely in the middle of the table, where the archivist’s eyes just were. David thinks it’s a shame the Overseer’s wear masks.

The archivist startles back, silent for the moment. David  reaches out,grabs the man’s shoulder, and brings him in on his blade.

He’s rifling through the files when Zhukov lets himself in. The massive, bug-eyed monstrosity strolls up the steps like he was looking for the bathroom at a restaurant. David  doesn’t bother looking up. “This what we’re looking for?”

Zhukov stands off to the side, his gaze wandering the wall of book spines. “It should be all there. They’d assemble all their information in one place.”

“Makes our lives easier,” David  grumbles, gathering pages together. An assembly of eye-witness reports and Overseer musings, one map of Coldridge with certain areas marked off. So his hunch about the Overseers connecting the dots to his escape was right. “Are you going to look for your knife, or are you going to let me do all the work?” he calls over his shoulder.

Zhukov’s head snaps back in his direction, as if he had forgotten David ’s existence. “It’s not here.”

David  pauses. “You haven’t even looked.”

“Yes, but I know. My knife is gone.” He shakes his head. “It served its purpose, I suppose. Just as well. It’ll come back to me if I need it.”

He continues moseying on as if they had just been discussing when to have tea. David  blinks, then rubs his eyes. They warned him Zhukov was nuts, though David feels like that’s not really an appropriate word. But then, were there really words to describe this bullshit?

David  goes back to his work, pawing through drawers for extra intel and whatever else he can find. He pulls out a thick leather binder and begins shoving papers in. When he’s gotten everything on the table, he starts grabbing fistfulls of paper and throwing them into the metal trash can.

Zhukov wanders up behind him to peer over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“f*****g with them,” David  grunts. He supposes somebody else might break in, kill a half-dozen Overseers and steal a bunch of intel solely regarding his escape and Anthony’s whereabouts, but it would be a small list of suspects. At least now it wouldn’t be quite so obvious. “You got a lighter? What am I saying,” he rolls his eyes, opening the top drawer. “Of course you don’t.”

There, matches. He thought he saw some. David  strikes it, curses a bit when he can’t get his fingers to close tight enough and the match slips from his hands. His hands are shaking too bad for him to strike it on the second. He finally gets it lit on the third f*****g try, and he drops it into the wastebasket and watches all those official Overseer documents go up in smoke.

“You do good work,” Zhukov says, stepping up behind him. David  rolls his eyes and turns around, shoving the parcel into his arms.

“Here. If I get you out of the square, do you think you can make it back to Lizzy’s boat without getting caught again?”

If Zhukov picks up on David ’s shortness, he doesn’t show it. He merely tucks the binder under his arm and stands up straighter and, somehow, even taller. “Oh, you and Miss Elizabeth don’t have to worry about me. I’ll find my own way back.”

David  raises an eyebrow. “Really. Because you seemed to run into trouble the first time.”

“You doubt my abilities.” Zhukov turns, his shiny red goggles staring right through him. “I have my ways.”

“I’m not coming back here if your ass gets caught again.”

“You won’t have to. I’ll see you at home, David .”

Zhukov turns dramatically, and David  is left blinking as he flounces off. He recovers his bearings after a split second, and brings up Sabrina to get her read on the guy.

Only Sabrina is silent. David  aims the Talisman at Zhukov and squeezes, but there’s nothing.

He almost wonders if she’s feeling alright, but then feels stupid. Thinking a ghost might be sick. Was it the Talisman, her connection to the world fading? He holds it up to the bookshelf and squeezes again.

‘Can you hear them too? The leviathans, crying out for one another. For us. Burned alive to light the world.’

No, Sabrina was fine. Well, as fine as she could be now.

David  looks to Zhukov again, but he’s disappeared. He leans over to check the stairs, the lower level, nothing. Zhukov is gone.

David  sneaks out through the library through the same window, dropping down and landing on the floor like a particularly limber cat. He leans out to check the hallway before crossing it, intending on making his exit through the window right across from him, but then he notices the door to the interrogation room swaying ever so slightly.

Hadn’t he closed it? He thought he did. He swore he did. Outsider’s eyes, he couldn’t be forgetting little details like this out on jobs. He just thanked the Void that no one noticed the open door and decided to investigate.

David  creeps back and grabs the door handle, peeking in to ensure there was no one actually inside at the moment, but the shadows are off. The hairs on the back of David ’s neck stand up, and he throws the door open.

There’s the three men David  killed earlier, still lying where they died, but the empty interrogation chair that Zhukov had vacated was now occupied again. An Overseer with no mask, dressed in red. High Overseer Campbell.

Sporting an H as red as his coat emblazoned across his face.

David  blinks, then blinks again. wondering if the scene will change if he does that enough times. If it will somehow reset the world so these things made sense.

How? He had been right here not ten minutes ago. He had been right across the hallway. He hadn’t noticed a scuffle, nothing. Who would benefit from giving Campbell the Heretic’s Brand?

They had been right here. Twenty feet away, and he hadn’t noticed.

David  firmly shuts the door, Blinking over to the open window and hoisting himself over the sill without another moment of hesitation.

He goes to sneak along the ledge again when he stumbles, tripping over something. A something that was suspiciously human-shaped, and groaned when David ’s foot met his ribcage.

There’s several bodies pulled out onto the ledge. A few with Overseer masks, at least two wearing City Watch blue. All still breathing. All unconscious.

David  jumps, Blinks away before he has a chance to run into whoever was responsible for all this. On a normal day, he would have felt it necessary to investigate. Put a stop to whoever was knocking out Overseers and branding heretics quieter than a mouse. But it’s been months since his last normal day, and he had bigger things to worry about. He was simply not dealing with this right now.

David  perches on the rooftop in front of the Captain’s Chair hotel, trying to figure out the best way to get in. The windows were all barred, thanks to the high crime in the area, so breaking in there would be a no-go. Would also make exiting the damn place all the more difficult. He hated his job.

There’s a watchtower set up on the corner, but it’s powered down and even starting to show signs of disrepair already. It had to have been set up in the past few months-Sabrina wouldn’t have used them against her own citizens. She hadn’t outright banned the invention, but had set up stringent limitations on where they could be deployed, and outside a brewhouse in the middle of the Distillery District certainly wouldn’t have met her requirements.

It was just as well. Nobody seemed to have bothered maintaining it, or even refilling the whale oil tank powering it. It wasn’t a threat to him now, but he’d have to keep an eye out for them in the future. If Delilah was happy to use things like watchtowers and walls of light against the people of Dunwall, Outsider only knew what she’d throw into the game once she knew he was back in it.

David  Blinks to the top of the Chair’s entryway, flattening himself down behind the sign to avoid getting spotted by passing guards. There was only a few, but he had seen an alarm on the next street over. He’d rather avoid that headache.

He peers down and activates Void Gaze, taking note of the first floor of the hotel. Two women sitting at a table, playing cards or something in the room off to the right. One guard in the room on the left, looking like he’s napping in his chair. People should be mostly in bed-it was nearing eleven at night. David  was usually in bed by now, if he was going to sleep. Sabrina would often still be up, but she was always weird like that.

So the windows were a bust. The front door was certainly locked, and Wakefield had mentioned something about the other entrances being blocked off for ‘security’. If David  didn’t need those papers, and didn’t care what happened to Rose’s brother, he’d wait for Luca to turn in for the night and set the damn place on fire. The hotel had an exit to the roof, but David  already checked the rooftops. They were too high on this block. He couldn’t get over. Couldn’t break through the windows. f**k, should he go under? Scurrying through the sewers like a rat?

Although...the front door wasn’t barred. There wasn’t even a latch. He’d wager the only part that actually locked was the knob itself.

David  waits for the guard currently picking his nose to turn onto the next street. He quickly vaults over the sign, lands in front of the door and, without giving himself a chance to really think about it, lifts his leg up and kicks the door as hard as possible.

The door busts open. There’s a shriek from the right-side room, and David  Blinks forward into the stairwell. He crouches, hides under the steps, and watches. The no-longer-napping guard sprints across the hallway.

“What’s wrong? I heard screaming.”

David  hunches down even lower. Stupid, stupid. If they decide to look, they’ll find him.

“There was a bang...I thought it was a gunshot…”

He has four sleep darts left, and he wanted to save one for Joshua, in case he was in a lot of pain and David  needed to carry him out. That left him three to get through both the hotel and the brothel. He’d only used one so far tonight, but he cared less about the prospect of killing Overseers than whores. He’d much rather dart the girls than kill them.

“It was the front door, see?”

They’re all crowding around the entryway, one maid hiding behind the guard and peering over his shoulder. David  had enough darts to knock them all out, but he’d have to be extremely careful not to get spotted in the Cat.

“Might have been the wind?” The other maid turns to her coworkers. “Nobody came through here. Jay and I were sitting right at the table, and we would of seen someone.”

David  holds his breath. He flips his wristbow over to his sleep darts without tearing his eyes from the three.

There’s a pause, then the guard curses. “Shitty goddamn door…” He walks forward and pulls the door closed. “I’ll check with the Captain tomorrow, see about getting a proper bolt put on.”

David  lets out his breath as the guard bids the maids good night and returns to the front room. Probably back to his nap. The maids head back into the kitchen, and David  almost laughs. It wasn’t even windy out.

He’s light on his toes all the way up the stairs, as he can already tell the building is old and prone to creaking. The people working here might assume it’s just their coworkers moving around, but it would be better if he left nothing to be tracked. Void Gaze easily shows him what lies behind each locked door, two or three of them to a floor as the building is incredibly narrow. Bunks occupied by guards and servants, rooms blocked off with furniture covered in sheets. The top floor, however, has only one room, and David  can see the unmade bed in the middle of the floor, the heaps of laundry and shards of broken pottery where one vase had apparently met its’ violent end.

It had to be Luca’s quarters; no one else would be that messy. It was, however, completely empty. Luca was still out.

It would have been nice to have caught Luca here, and not had to visit the Cat. Would have been faster, easier. But when have things ever been easy for David ?

The door was locked. He couldn’t kick the door down and blame it on the wind again. He could always shoot the lock off, but he’d just run into the same problem. He’d have to come back. He skips up the stairs and lets himself out onto the rooftop. Of course they didn’t bother locking the rooftop access. No one expects someone to come from above.

The Golden Cat is a lot busier than David  would have expected. Or at least that’s what he thinks, until he examines the busy street a little more closely. The courtesans are all standing around, huddled up together to conserve heat. And all the men wandering the streets are guards. Patrolling. They’re on duty.

Something happened. David  didn’t know what, but it couldn’t mean good things for him. Somebody might have been tipped off that there would be an attempt on Abele’s life tonight. Or, hell, Slackjaw might have gone ahead and kidnapped him already, without David ’s consent. Maybe it was unrelated, but a larger guard presence would still make his job harder.

‘They come from all over. Bastard daughters from the cities, mouths that can’t be fed from the countryside. They thought they’d all be working in a factory.’

Well, that was all very sad, but it wasn’t really useful to him.

David  Blinks to a balcony on a nearby building, leaning out to listen in on the conversation. But it’s nothing telling. Even the courtesans don’t seem to know what’s going on. A few of them pester a guard for details, who just waves them off and tells them to sit tight while the investigation is underway. One girl complains she’s cold. They’re all in their underwear, and the guards all wear thermal underclothing as part of the winter uniform. If he was there on Royal Protector business, he’d make them all give up their coats. Or at least move the poor girls inside where it was warmer.

He Blinks over to an awning, then curses when he notices guards on a balcony at his level. He ducks down in the fake ivy and wills himself to blend in.  He waits for the guards to turn away before peeking his head back out to survey the area. There’s windows behind the guards with their shutters open. Windows all over the place, really. He’d have to be careful not to be spotted, but it gave him an easy way in.

David  Pulls a nearby wine bottle and smashes it against the side of the balcony. The guards run over to investigate, and David  uses the opportunity to cross the yard and Blink himself onto the window ledge.

Inside, he’s level with a decorative ledge that runs around the perimeter of the room. There’s two guards conversing with an older woman, thick makeup and ironed curls. The Madame. David  creeps closer.

“And you haven’t gotten anything out of Violetta, is that right?”

“No ma’am. We’ve had her in the Silver Room for three hours, but she still claims she was unconscious during Lord Custis’s disappearance.”

“Mm.” The Madame fingers the pearls around her throat. “I’d appreciate if you avoided killing her. These girls are hard to replace, and with Loulia unable to work while she recovers, I’m already down one earner.”

‘She throws the dead girls in the river,’ Sabrina whispers.

One of the guards cracks his neck. “We’ll need to question her as well, once she’s back.”

“You didn’t think she had something to do with it, do you?” The Madame puts her hand on her chest. “I told you, there was an existing issue with the Steam Room, I would have gotten it fixed already, but with the plague-”

“It’s not just that, ma’am.” The other guards says. “Don’t you find it curious that Lord Morgan was the only one found dead? The door was locked, and both the girl and Officer Marks were inside.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” the Madame scoffs. She turns away, opening a door off to the right. The guards move to follow her.

David  steps into the air and lands directly beside one of the guards. He thrusts his sword through the back of his neck and lets him fall to the ground. The other guard turns around at the sound of his companion hitting the floor, and David  Blinks forward. Before the guard can draw his blade, David puts his own through the guard’s temple.

The Madame has noticed, and she sprints forward into the stairwell. “Please don’t kill me!” she shrieks, jiggling the door across from the stairwell entrance. David  enters the room, and the Madame falls to her knees, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m just a business woman! Can you really blame me-”

David  pulls her up by her stupid, fake red curls and draws his sword over her throat.

She had a key to the door, so she could have easily opened it and escaped to her office. So he’s not sure why she just knelt there. He drags the bodies inside and closes the door behind him, then sweeps the room.

There’s a drawer full of coin that he helps himself to, and some fancy pieces of jewelry. He pockets those as well, figuring Jerome would find someone to sell them to. If he couldn’t or they turned out to be worthless, he could always give them to some of the girls. Maybe Galia, or Rose. Lydia and Thalia probably had much nicer things already. Lizzy wouldn’t be caught dead wearing this s**t.

He skips over the journals and records, pawing through the single ledger that contained today’s business. The  records stop about three hours ago, which he would guess is when the Cat closed down for investigation. All the guests have an out time right around then. Luca Abele entered the Cat at about fifteen o’clock, but unlike all the other patrons, there’s no out time for him, or for a ‘J.C.’ that’s entered right below him. The ledger puts them down for the Ivory Room, but that’s scrawled out in red with 3S written over it in messy handwriting.

It could never be easy, could it? David  sighs.

David  turns all this information over in his head as he locks up the office and Blinks back up to the ledge. A murder and kidnapping. Felt too familiar for comfort. The Pendleton twins? He doesn’t remember much about them, just that they mined silver and had a fair amount of Parliament votes to their name. David  remembers ejecting one from a dinner after he made a comment about getting Sabrina drunk so he could bed her. A dress collar may have been torn in the process. He hadn’t even realized who it was at the time-Sabrina had told him about it afterwards while seated at her vanity, taking off her jewelry. He can still see her there, laughing about it as she removed an earring, bathed in dim candlelight.

Now the man’s dead. Or was abducted. He can’t remember which Pendleton he kicked out. He can’t remember which Pendleton is dead, actually.

Whoever it was died in the Steam Room, a fact that’s verified when he creeps through the upper window to the main lounge. The staircase leading down to it is blocked off, with guards milling about the entrance. A few courtesans are still around, mostly seated on the fancy couches. Two women slow dance with each other off to the side, slumped over and barely holding each other up.

Billie’s voice crackles to life like soft thunder. ‘Her husband chose to draw blood, but his wife found another way. One showed mercy.’

There were no mysteries around Billie. The issue was whether she felt like sharing her findings.

There’s a decorative awning above the middle ring, but there’s also an opening to the second floor, where anyone could look down. He can Blink over there if needed, but he’d have to be careful not to be spotted by anyone above.

Across the lounge is the Ivory Room, the door splayed wide open. That’s evidently where the guards have set up, which would explain why Abele was kicked out. Now where to?

He peeks his head into both the Jade Room and the Ivy Room, shaking his head all the while. Who came up with this bullshit? Why did the room names have to sound stuffy and fancy? What was it with nobles wanting the entire world to be pretty for them?

Regardless, they’re both empty. The Ivy Room has a balcony overlooking the river though, which David  makes a mental note of. He returns to the lounge and looks it over. The only other room on this floor was the Silver Room, where this ‘Violet’ or someone was being questioned. Luca was most likely upstairs.

He activates Void Gaze to get a feel for the upper floor, but he can’t help but glance into the Silver Room. There’s no bed, no decorations, just two guards and what looked like a very large dentist chair, with a small woman strapped in.

David  always felt bad for the whores. He remembers living in a brothel for a short time when he was young, while his mother worked as their doctor. He knows most of them don’t enter this line of work by choice, and are in no way properly compensated for what they do. And then there’s always the nagging memory that Sabrina was considering coming to a place like this, looking for employment, before they found each other. Anthony might have ended up here too.

Kids on the street had about three choices for what they were going to do when they grew up. The mines, the brothels, or the gangs. The women here may not have even had that much of a choice.

There’s the voice in his head telling him he’s a bleeding heart. That he was wasting valuable time, that he was risking being caught before Luca was dead by his blade. That in the grand scheme of thing, one single courtesan wasn’t important.

But he can’t leave her here.

The floor is busy enough, and the entrance to the room obscured enough, that nobody notices him Blink down to the floor and slip inside. The guards don’t even notice the door opening and closing behind them. Good thing too, as there’s nothing to hide behind in here. They’re too busy with the woman, crying on the chair.

“And he told me to dress up like Lady Boyle, Waverly Boyle,” she gasps. “And then I felt a prick on my arm, and-”

“You’re not nearly pretty enough to pass for Waverly,” one of the guards sneers.

The other guard pulls the lever connected to the chair, and the courtesan shrieks in pain.

“Now, again.” He’s far too calm for this. David  readies his blade and creeps closer.

“I told you! The next thing I know a guard is shaking me awake!” she cries. “Please believe me. I don’t think I can take another.”

The guard turns away to make a note, and David  takes the opportunity to grab his friend by the shoulder and thrust his sword through his back. The guard is none the wiser, until David  has one hand in his hair and his blade pressed up against his throat.

“Abele.” David  intentionally lowers his voice. He doesn’t know if his voice is distinguishable enough to tell on its own, but he wasn’t taking the chance.

A pen drops from the guard’s hands. They’re in front of his waist, can’t reach for his gun or sword faster than David  can swipe his blade. The guard’s hands are shaking. “I’ll scream, I’ll-”

“I’ll kill you.” David  leans in closer. “Where. Is. Abele.”

“M-my supervisor is right outside, he’ll-”

Then there’s only a choking sound as David  slits the man’s throat. He turns back to the courtesan, who’s absolutely shaking in fear. Blindfolded, luckily. She won’t even know who rescued her.

David  reaches over the side of the chair and covers her mouth with his hand. “Don’t scream. I’m not here to hurt you.”

It doesn’t seem to calm her. If anything, she’s shaking more.

“I’ll let you talk, but you have to promise you won’t scream.”

Still trembling, she nods. David  removes his hand. She gasps as if he’d been holding her underwater.

“Please don’t kill me,” she sobs in a whisper.

“I’m not. I’m actually going to help you.” If David  were a better man, he’d know how to comfort her. Hold her hand. Have something reassuring to say. But he doesn’t know how to do any of that, so he just focuses on getting this over with. “I need to know where Luca Abele was moved to.”

The woman takes a deep breath. “I think...that nice boy he’s with, he was complaining about the hookah...right, the Smoking Room. For security.”

Security at a whorehouse was a goddamn joke, more for show than anything. It was only dangerous now due to the sheer number of guards investigating the murder. Abele wouldn’t be any safer from David  no matter what little hiding spot they found for him.

“Thank you,” he breathes into her ear. He slips the cigarette case from Granny’s old place in her pocket as he draws back. “Count to one hundred and then you can get up. I’ll leave something outside the door you can cover up with. Get what you need and get out of here. Walk slow, and don’t draw attention to yourself.”

“Th-thank you,” she says in a small voice.

David  slips out of the room as easily as he slipped in. He spies a scarf draped over a nearby partition and snatches it up, tucks it into the door handle and Blinks back to the awning before he can be spotted.

He realizes the poor girl might not know her numbers well enough to count to a hundred, but eventually she does open the door. Grabs the scarf and pulls it over her head to hide her face instead of draping it over her scantily-clad body. Smart girl.

She pulls one courtesan to the side and whispers something to her, then they both dart off. David  watches them both through Void Gaze. Viola or whatever her name is scurrying towards the stairwell, her friend’s hand in hers. He doesn’t know where they’re going. That’s not the way the exit is. But she got away.

David  Blinks up past the upper floor balustrade, to the metal awnings covered in ivy. There’s less people up here, mostly milling about in the Gold Room. The door to the Smoking Room is closed, and guarded by two Watch officers.

No matter. Most of the rooms had balconies, like the large one built into this side of the lounge, right in front of where David  is hiding. He could always enter from the outside.

He rocks on the balls of his feet, watching one courtesan lean over the railing. He’s tempted to use a sleep dart on her so he can sneak by. Luca is there, right there, so close and David  will have him dead so soon. But he waits. He’s waited six months. He won’t ruin it with his impatience now.

Another guard in a light blue coat comes over to join the hooker, rubbing his face. David  tries not to scream.

“Rough day?” the woman asks. The guard nods.

“Don’t know what’s worse, the investigation or dealing with the Duke’s son.” He sighs. “Your boss keeps harping on about a missing girl too, but she won’t tell us who and all you ladies are accounted for.”

“I have no idea who she’s talking about. Maybe old Prudence is losing it.”

“Maybe.” The guard leans forward, resting his elbows on the railing. “At least the river is pretty tonight.”

The courtesan cosies up to his side, copying his pose. “It is, isn’t it? I like coming over here, looking at the water. It’s peaceful.”

“Yeah. The river still looks the same. It’s like the last year never happened. Like the Empress never died.”

“I miss the Empress,” the courtesan sighs. “She sent us chocolates once. No reason. Just to be nice. And now she’s gone, and half the city’s dead.”

“The rats came a year before the Empress died.” A navy-coated guard approaches. “Don’t you remember? That’s why that murderer was away from Dunwall so long. He was looking for someone to fix her mess.”

“I always assumed she sent him away because she knew he was planning something,” the other guard says, scratching his neck. “She got wind of a plot against her and was trying to replace him quietly. Then David  found out and murdered her before she had the chance. Or at least that’s my mother’s theory.”

“You’re giving her way too much credit. That b***h grew up eating dirt and didn’t know her head from her left asscheek.”

“I heard it was a crime of passion,” the courtesan supplies. “Her and Lady Delilah were going to get engaged. Everyone knew David  was screwing the Empress, so she had to break it off with him. And then he snapped and killed her.” She says simply, with a lilt at the end, as if it really was so cavalier.

The guard scoffs. “A bastard i***t and a dyke. Clearly a woman we want on our money.”

“Why are you doing this?” The light-coated guard steps away from the railing, raising his hands. “She’s dead. Show a little respect.”

The other guard raises his finger and points angrily. “You’re from a good family, Luther, you of all people should know the value of proper breeding. The girl’s mother was some b***h from the weeds the old Emperor never bothered courting.  No way she was even Gristolian.” The guard straightens out his jacket, peering out over the river. “Kaldwin, though, that name bears weight. The fine lady will lead us to greatness. You’ll see.”

“Well, Sabrina Stark  may have been all those things you mentioned, but she was still our Empress. And last time I checked, that outranked you.” The guard sniffs. Then he turns back to the courtesan. “I’m due for a break. How does a walk sound to you?”

“That sounds lovely.” The woman accepts the coat the guard peels off and drapes over her shoulders, pulling it around herself like a blanket. She turns back around as the guard slips his arm around her shoulders. “f**k you. Empress Sabrina was my hero.”

“Sounds about right. Patron saint of whores and mudlarks.” The guard sniffs. The courtesan shoots him the finger as the two walk away, and the remaining guard leans over the railing and mumbles under his breath. “Bitch.”

There’s no one else around. David  Blinks behind the guard and grabs one side of his head, bringing his fist in on his other temple. The man slumps over, temporarily knocked out. David  grabs his coin purse and rips it away as he pushes the unconscious body over the railing.

David  vaults himself over the railing and crouches on a nearby ledge, out of the light. He listens for the splash from the river below, then pulls out the Talisman. “Don’t fault me for that.”

‘A noblewoman will soon start with the coughing. Her husband will fake death in order to stay close to her. Will we kill them too?’

She’s so blasé with her tone. David  can’t tell whether she’s disappointed or excited about the prospect.

He’s glad they waited until dark to do this, David  thinks, as he creeps under windows and around turrets. It was easier to see out in the daytime, but in the dark, windows worked the other way. Nobody would be able to spot him, unless they had their noses pressed up to the glass. The Smoking Room itself didn’t have any exterior windows. But David  was always good with mental maps, visualizing the layout of a place and corresponding it to his surroundings. It served him well as Royal Protector, it served him extremely well when he was a thief, and it would serve him well now. He can tell where the Smoking Room should be. And when he activates Void Gaze, he sees a large fat man standing at a table.

David  grips his sword and Blinks to the balcony. The door is made of glass, but there’s a changing screen right in front of him. For privacy.

Or to make it easier for an assassin to sneak through. One of the two.

David  opens it just far enough to scootch himself through, taking great care to let it close with a quiet click. The air is practically blue with smoke, the red carpeting showing burn marks the embroidered tapestries are devoid of.

“You need to learn how to let loose, my boy.”

David  freezes. It’s him. Luca Abele, a few feet away. Still breathing, still wagging that lying, lying tongue of his.

So close. So easy.

“I’m fine.” There’s a smaller voice, off to the side. David  relaxes his hand. Right, Joshua Copper was here. Well, at least he knew the kid was alive.

Alive, and able to scream.

“You have no fun.” A chuckle. “Hardly drink, don’t smoke. We’re surrounded by some of the most beautiful women, and you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself at all.”

“I’m just tired. I’d like to go home soon.”

“And yesterday you were off quoting Rose-budew s**t at that girl in the purple.” Luca trails off with a few incomprehensible half-sentences.

David  peeks around the screen. Joshua sits on a lounge chair, hands in his lap and his feet planted on the floor. Bony, blond, wirey spectacles pointed at his lap. He’s noticeably devoid of bruises, David  notes.

“Roseburrow,” Joshua whispers to his knees.

Luca is standing in front of him, grumbling and holding a hookah hose in one hand. His shirt ruffled, his hair greasy and already starting to thin. And David  is back on the pavillion, Luca standing above him and accusing him of…

David  wants to take the moment back. Seize Luca by his stupid lapels and shove his sword through his own damn gut. Make him feel everything that Sabrina felt. To make him pay for every second of pain and grief, wants to twist his neck and rip out his lying, lying tongue, tear out his heart and stomp on it and he didn’t kill her he didn’t kill her .

His lovely, fierce Empress. Ripped open on the patio.

‘He counts the moments until he sees her again. She is everything to him. His sun and his sky.’

She was everything to David  too. But then they killed her.

The moment Luca turns around, David  slips out from behind the screen and ducks behind Joshua’s lounge chair. His eyes dart around. The door was closed, but brothel doors often didn’t lock. Guards would still be able to burst in at any time. David  spies a sword lying on a dresser, still in its scabbard. Luca’s, most likely. Felt safe enough, trusted Delilah’s reputation to protect him. David grabs it and slides it through the door handles.

Luca’s back is still turned. Joshua is still staring at his lap, shifting uncomfortably as he listens to Luca’s drunken ramblings. David  leans over the lounger, slaps a hand over Joshua’s mouth and whispers in his ear. “Be quiet. I’m here to help.”

And when he takes his hand away, Joshua doesn’t yell for the guards. David  doesn’t spare him a second glance. He passes him by, grabbing a wine bottle from a side table and walks up to Luca’s side. He’s there, right there , close enough that David  can see the stream of smoke he expels from his mouth. Luca doesn’t notice him, standing feet away. David grits his teeth and bangs his sword on the ground.

Luca jumps. He pivots around to face the source of the disturbance, hand already going for his holster. David  throws the wine bottle and catches him neatly in the right shoulder, red wine staining his shirt and his hand fumbling to keep his hold on his gun.

“You dare attack me-” Abele shouts, his fat face reddening further. David  brings his sword down on his right arm, knocking the gun out of his hand and knocking Luca back on his fat bottom.

It’s then Luca gets a look at his killer’s face. David  can tell the exact moment the realization hits him. His eyes go wide, his mouth goes slack. And he trembles.

There’s a million times that he could say now, things he wants to say. Tell Luca they couldn’t keep him down. That they weren’t going to win. That here he was, standing over Luca with the instrument that will end his life, and Luca knows it, and mock him for that day. For thinking they wouldn’t pay for what they did to her. He wants Abele to understand. Wants him to hurt, to fear.

But when Luca starts crawling backwards, scrambling away, David  leans over and grabs him by the collar. Presses his blade to his jugular. And then all that comes out of David ’s mouth is “die, liar” as he cuts his throat.

Luca’s hands come up to stop the blood, but it’s too late. He’s already dead. He shudders once, and is still. David  stands over him, his sword still in hand.

He should feel powerful. Vindicated. Or, at the very least, satisfied.

He’s not. It happened too quickly. Over too fast. Now Luca’s dead.

And David  is alone again.

There’s a creak behind him. David  turns his head to see Joshua shifting in his chair. He’s staring, wide-eyed, at Abele’s bloody body, but then he just wets his lips and opens his mouth. “If you’re going to kill me too, just hand me his pistol and I can take care of that for you.”

His voice only trembles a little bit. It would never have fooled anyone, though. The humor can’t hide the boy’s palpable fear.

“I’m not here for you.” David  turns around, his back to the corpse on the floor.

“Oh.” Joshua’s eyes are big, owlish, staring straight through him without meeting David ’s stare.

“You Joshua Copper?”

He blinks, his spectacles magnifying the action. “Copper...yes! I am.” He stands up then, wiping his palms on his pants. He’s tall. Probably taller than David , already. “Did Lily send you?”

“Lily?” David  squints his eyes, but then it clicks. “Right, right, Lily. She asked me to make sure you got out.”

“Oh, bless her.” Joshua links his fingers together in the front. “She’s the best sister a guy could ask for.”

David  nods. “She’s a...nice girl. Cares about you a lot.”

“Is she safe? Is Reed with her?” Joshua shifts from side-to-side, his eyes darting around the room.

“Yeah. They’re working for my...employers.” David  glances at the ground. He’s still trailing blood on the floor. “They’re safe, and have access to food and elixir. Better off than most of Dunwall.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard in months.” Joshua lets out a breath, looking up to the ceiling. “Luca’s been looking for her. I thought, if he couldn’t find her, you know, she must be dead.” He shakes his head, laughing a little. “Should know my sister better than that. She’s crafty. If there’s a way, she’ll find it.”

Joshua looks familiar in a way David  can’t explain. Was it just his resemblance to Rose? No, Rose had more weight to her face, more red in her hair and her skintone. Reed doesn’t look like either of them-plus he’s about twenty shades darker. And he knows he hasn’t seen those two before yesterday. Where has he seen Joshua?

“Sorry I can’t bring you back for a family reunion,” David  says gruffly. “Bosses wouldn’t like that.”

It wasn’t just that. David  didn’t give two shits if he pissed Thalia off, and Lizzy had pretty much given him a pass to deal with Joshua as he saw fit. She didn’t seem to think, though, about the fact that Joshua had been living and working with Luca Abele for the past several months. That they’d soon be harboring and protecting the future Emperor of the Isles, and everyone around him could pose a threat. He knows Rose said her brother could be trusted, but, well, they haven’t seen each other in a while.

Joshua, surprisingly, just nods. “That’s fine. It’s best we stay separated for now. Makes us harder to find.”

David  raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment.

“I can find a place to hide for a while until this all dies down,” Joshua continues. “If you can get me past the guards, I can make my own way from there.”

“There’s some stuff in Luca’s quarters that I need.” David  says, then remembers why he had to come to the Cat first. He sheathes his sword and moves over to Luca’s body. “I can sneak you out the front door. Unless you know of a better way out.”

Joshua c***s his head, watching David  carefully as he loots through Abele’s coat. “Out of the hotel? Not really, but there is a VIP entrance here in...what are you doing?”

David  looks up, glaring. “I need his room key.”

At that, Joshua produces it from his own breast pocket. David  blinks as Joshua hands it over. “Why…”

“I always keep the key when he’s drunk,” Joshua says dryly. “So all the time. There’s been a few instances where he’s lost it or locked us out of our room with the key inside.”

“Appreciated.” David  grits his teeth. “You said something about a VIP entrance?”

Joshua nods. “In the basement. Lets out somewhere near the distillery, but I’m not sure where. The door’s always locked.”

“Well, lucky for you, I have the Madame’s master key right here.” David  holds it up, spinning the ring around on his finger.

Joshua nods, impressed. “Trade you. Did you steal this out of Madame Prudence’s office?”

“Close. I killed her.”

“You killed Prudence?” Joshua says, a little too loudly. David  scrambles to put his finger to his lips, but Joshua just pushes his hands away. “It’s fine, these rooms are practically sound-proof. I mean...good. That’s good.” He puts a hand on his chin, looking to the floor. “I’m glad she’s dead. Prudence was a horrid woman.”

David  nods along. He knows. He knew that when he killed her. “You were staying in the same room, right? Did you need anything from there?”

“No, I keep everything I need on me.” He pats his vest pockets. “I do have some baubles in a jewelry box under my bunk, but they’re yours if you want them. Least I can do. Just don’t report me to the Abbey for the bones.”

At that, David  has to chuckle. “Don’t think you need to worry about that with me.” He bends over and picks up Abele’s pistol, turning it around and offering the handle to Joshua. “You can take his sword too, if you want it. Dunwall’s dangerous now. You’ll need to protect yourself.”

Joshua accepts the gun, though he’s shaking his head. “Oh, I’m hopeless with a blade. Reed’s beaten me. I’m a halfway decent shot, though.”

“I talked to the leader of the Bottle Street gang about you. They’re willing to take you in until we can send for you.”

“I think I’d be better off trying my luck with the sewer rats, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

David  walks over to the balcony door, peering out and checking the other windows for busybodies. He motions Joshua closer. “Come on. We’re going on this way.”

“Outside?” Joshua raises his eyebrows, but he approaches nonetheless. “The ledges are slippery. I’ve tried escaping that way before. What if we fall in the water?”

“You know how to swim, don’t you?”

“Yes, but…” he trails off.

David  peers back to size Joshua up, wondering how he’s going to go about this. It would be safest to Blink. Joshua was right in that scaling the outer wall was dangerous, that they risked slipping and falling into the river. David  could swim, mostly everyone could, but it was dark and there was s**t that lived in the Wrenhaven he could go without dealing with. He’d be revealing his powers to Joshua, but that was a calculated risk. He hadn’t Blinked with another person before.

It was possible, he knew, as the people who assaulted the Tower had similar powers, and one had absconded with Anthony. But whoever did that had been taller than him, able to lift him off the ground.

David  could not pick Joshua up. The dumb kid was taller than David  even in his lifts. He might be able to carry him fireman-style, or...

“Get on my back,” David  grits his teeth. Joshua double-takes.

“Uh...what?”

“Get on my back. I’ll get us out of here.”

“I have two fully functioning legs, thank you very much. Your back is not meant to hold up two adult men. That’s a lot of stress on your spine.”

David  curses under his breath and throws the door open, grabbing Joshua around the waist and hoisting him up just enough so his feet don’t touch the ground, and he Blinks.

Joshua’s gasp is muffled by the sound of the wind whipping by them, but David  still shushes him when the land. He Blinks again, down to the second floor, and enters the brothel again through the Ivy Room.

Joshua jumps off the railing and turns to face David , his cheeks red with excitement. “You’re Marked!” he says, breathlessly.

David  grunts. “Yep.”

The boy hops from foot to foot. “That’s so cool!”

“Pipe down or I’ll stick you back in with Abele’s corpse.”

“Sorry.” Joshua stops jumping, but his smile still threatens to break his face. “I just...can I see it? Just for a second?”

David  fixes his stare on him. He shouldn’t encourage this bullshit. But it would make the kid shut up, and this could be over with faster. David  rips off his left glove and shoves his hand out. Joshua runs his fingers over the markings. “Whoa…”

David  snatches his hand back. “Time’s short. Let’s go,” he says, tugging his glove back on his hand.

Joshua follows rather quietly from then on, to David ’s relief. They sneak out past the lobby and into the staircase, at which point Joshua takes the lead.

‘Power, intelligence, and beauty. The traits they were taught to value above all else. All three inherited a witch’s wit, but just smarts was never enough.’

“It’s down here, somewhere,” he says, not glancing back at David  as he descends the steps. “I’ve gotten down here a few times, but I’ve never been able to pick the lock before someone found me.”

“You know how to pick locks?”

“Not well , but I can. My sister and brother are both better than me.”

That was almost impressive. Even David  never got the hang of picking locks. He’d have to remember that, though, that the Copper kids could do that. David  takes Sabrina back out and aims her at Joshua’s retreating back.

‘He loves his sister, but resents her strength. And is jealous that she was born a woman.’

David  jumps over the railing at the bottom of the steps, stopping Joshua in their tracks. He peers through the wall using Void Gaze, taking care not to turn towards the boy and show him his eyes.

“One more thing,” Joshua starts. David  puts a hand up, telling him to stay quiet, but he continues on anyway. “There’s a safe in Abele’s room.”

“Uh-huh.” He can see two people near the door, but they appear to be women. One wearing a long coat, the other wearing pants and an afghan tied around her upper body.

“I don’t think he ever kept important stuff in there, you know, papers and things that should be locked up. I think it’s mostly gold and the like.”

One bends down at the door, fiddling with the handle. The other sits down and puts her head in her hands. Just more whores. Probably trying to escape as well.

“But in case you do need something in there,” David  lets his eyes return to normal and turns back to Joshua. “I saw the code over Luca’s shoulder. It’s four-two-zero.”

“Come in handy. Thanks.” David  holds his hand out. “This is where you get off. Good luck, kid.”

Joshua takes it, absolutely beaming. “Thank you. Really, thank you.”

He turns and pushes open the door. David  lingers behind for a moment, sliding his foot into the door to listen in.

“Violetta! Reneé!” Joshua’s shoes slap against the gravel. “What are you two doing out here?”

“Freezing our asses off. What are you doing out here, Josh?” One of the women asks.

“Don’t call me that. I’m escaping. For real, this time. I have Prudence’s master key!”

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” The other woman says. “Let’s get out of here! You’ll never believe who saved me.”

And David  listens, until their footsteps patter away, into the cold Dunwall night, and the VIP door slams shut behind them.

He has to finish this quickly, David  thinks as he lands back on the Captain’s Chair rooftop. Someone will try checking on Abele sooner or later, and then they’ll find the barred door and the bloody corpse. Maybe they’ll make the same mistake twice and keep the guards swarmed around the murder scene, but he wasn’t about to push his luck. He wants to be long gone before the murder is discovered.

The key turns in the lock and David  is quick to step in, shutting it with the utmost care behind him. The room is even messier than Void Gaze had originally given away.

Abele’s desk is pushed up against the far wall, out of the way, his safe sitting on the floor next to it. A military cot is set up in the corner nearby, with a pot of pink flowers at the head. Must be where Joshua slept. Poor kid, no privacy. David  ignores the bunk for now and proceeds straight for the desk.

Apparently he’d been using Joshua as a clerk, because the contents of the desk are by far the most organized thing in the room. Everything labeled, neatly filed. One drawer is devoted entirely to content regarding the plague. Death counts, asset seizures. One holds a pile of letters from Luca’s parents and brother. David  shuts that drawer very quickly.

The bottom left-hand drawer has the Stark seal burnt into the wood, and David  opens it. It’s filled with rocks. And ridiculously shallow.

David  almost rolls his eyes as he starts taking out rocks, removing the false bottom. They could have at least put effort into hiding it. The rocks took up maybe the top third of the drawer.

Underneath, there’s a leather satchel emblazoned with a K. Stuffed to the brim with papers. It slips out of David ’s fingers as he grasps it, and he has to slow down and remind himself to pick it up carefully. He does, and places it on the desktop. Opens the side. Spreads the first few sheets out.

It’s all in code.

David  nearly throws the entire thing in frustration.

It’s there. Anthony’s location and condition are right f*****g there , right in front of his face. But he can’t read it. f*****g Delilah. He’s going to tear her goddamn head off, cut out her tongue and rip her eyes out of her skull.

David  forces himself to take a breath. So what if he didn’t know where Anthony was being held right away? It wasn’t like he was going to take these papers to Lizzy and march straight there. Dawn would be upon them before they even reached their destination, and David  would have been up for over twenty-four hours straight by the time he got started. It would make him clumsy, stupid. Might jeopardize him getting Anthony out safely.

He’d take it back to the mill. Let the assholes decode it themselves while he takes a well-deserved snooze, then set out when he’s prepared. It wouldn’t be long now. He almost had Anthony back. Almost.

David  pushes the papers back, then snatches the top one up again and holds it close to his face. The symbols blur, and he grimaces and holds it farther away. All looping patterns, strange letters that looked like the ones he knew but weren’t. He shoves it back in, mumbling curses under his breath all the while.

The rest of the drawers hold nothing of relevance to David . Luca had technically been in Delilah’s inner circle on account of him f*****g her, but he was no mastermind. More interested in partying than carrying out his own devious plots. Probably just as well he would never be Duke now. The title would now fall to his younger brother who, from what David  remembered, was rude and entitled but wasn’t an outright sociopath like Luca. David can’t remember the little s**t’s name now.

David  swipes the gold ingots and canisters of silver dust in the safe, passing over the creepy ragdoll with buttons for eyes and the lock of hair that probably belonged to Delilah. He considers throwing a match in for good effect, but he didn’t want to risk burning the place down. Were all safes fireproof? Billie’s were, but they were top-of-the-line stuff. Nobody would ever sell the Empress something second-rate.

Whatever. David  closes the damn safe before he can change his mind.

The box under Joshua’s bed is pushed far back into the corner, and obscured by a wadded-up towel. Already looks suspicious, considering the rest of the kid’s area was obsessively neat. David  pulls it out and begins rifling through it. There are indeed a few bonecharms in here, and three goddamn runes. The rest is all gaudy jewelry, stuff he probably nicked from either Abele or the succulent company he kept. David  pulls out one gold and copper signet ring, adorned with the symbol of the Kaldwin family.

Well, it turned out Luca Abele’s little assistant was quite the little thief. David  almost chuckles as he puts the ring back and closes the lid, tucks the entire box into his coat. How had he managed to get Delilah’s signet ring off her?

Balls. That kid had balls.

David ’s jacket is quite laden down with stolen treasure by now, but he’s almost done. Just a hop and a skip back to Lizzy. He does a quick survey of the room, keeping an eye out for anything important or valuable, but comes up lacking. The panties on Luca’s bed don’t qualify as either, though he considers taking them just to throw in Lizzy’s face. There’s a few painting on the walls, surrealist and dripping with color. He recognizes Delilah’s work, and strides by. They wouldn’t be worth the coin she had spent on the canvas. David  locks the door back up and heads for the front.

The servants must have gone to bed by now, because it’s deserted downstairs. David  creeps through the front door and throws Luca’s room key into the sewer, just to really f**k with their investigation.

He Blinks through the rooftops, keeping an eye on the guard presence below. Once Luca’s murder is discovered, the district would be thrown into complete chaos. Two high-ranking nobles assassinated in the same brothel on the same night, and two more disappearing mysteriously. Well, Joshua wasn’t a nobleman, but still. The drama. The Regent coming down on the Watch like a bag of hammers, wanting to know how the hell they had let all this happen. A complete shitshow.

‘This place will be a mess, once they’ve discovered what we’ve done,’ Sabrina says, echoing his thought. ‘But now? Nothing but quiet.’

She almost seems like the old Sabrina sometimes. David  almost smiles.

Lizzy is hunched over in her skiff when David  returns. David might say she was sleeping, but her mask obscures her face. Regardless, she jumps when David  taps on the steering wheel.

“Outsider’s f*****g…” She reaches for her blade, but then she takes in David ’s somber form standing over her.

“Did you have a nice evening, Miss Stride?”

“f**k, don’t you be calling me that too…” Lizzy grumbles as she sits up in her seat. “Can’t help but notice that there’s no kid or weird old guy behind you. I’m assuming the worst here.”

“They’re fine.” David  steps into the back of the skiff and sits himself down. “Zhukov didn’t want a ride, and Joshua is with some people. Safe enough.”

“You find those papers?”

At that, David  frowns. “It’s all in code.”

Lizzy takes off her mask, slapping her knee with it. “f**k. I mean, we can deal with that, I just...shit.” She sighs, tipping her head back. “But Abele is dead, right? You killed that sonofabitch.”

“Dead as my will to live.”

“Damn. Nice, David .” Lizzy turns back to grin at him, then rifles around for something in her pocket. “Think this calls for the good smokes. Honor’s all yours, asshole.”

David  accepts the cigar, lets Lizzy light it for him with her whalebone lighter. He sits back and feels the engine rumble in his bones, the bob of the water. He closes his eyes, sticks the cigar in his mouth, and feels all his muscles relax at once.