Chương 39: Lamb and Job, Sitting in a Tree...

Right now, Lio was inside an information den that belonged to the shadowy organization known as Kingmaker. It was certainly not a remarkable looking place. But then again, that was entirely the point. All of the old and mismatched furniture, the horrible smell lingering in the air, the old and rickety lamps ridded with cobwebs, all of it had been designed to make this place look like a supply annex, or a private drinking room, maybe. Nothing worth too much of a second glance.

Which was why it had been operating underneath Trestfall's cobblestones for eleven years without getting discovered by any authorities. But it was better to start at the start. So, what kind of organization was exactly Kingmaker? Lio knew the story behind its secretive creation, of course. Everyone who'd spent enough time in the shadowy underbelly of the continent's information trade eventually heard it.

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young prince, blessed with both intelligence and conscience, had watched his father's corrupt reign rot the kingdom from the inside out. Unable to act openly, he'd assembled a network of the most talented information collectors and spies, and used them to dismantle his father's power. When the prince finally took the throne, contrary to popular belief, his network didn't dissolve.

Instead, as the people who'd helped him win had developed a taste for the work, they formed a formal society. And so, the group took the name Kingmaker as both a reminder to their members and a warning to their enemies. After all, they had made one king. They could make others. Or unmake them too. It was, Lio had to admit, an excellent story. But… It was also complete nonsense. He'd used some loops to dig into the actual history, and eventually arrived at the considerably less romantic truth.

In reality, Kingmaker had been founded by seven aging information peddlers who'd gotten tired of competing with each other and decided that consolidation was more profitable than rivalry. There had been no prince. There had been no corrupt father or noble conspiracy. Just seven old-timers. The prince story emerged sometime in the following decades, accumulating the regular old details and drama until it had achieved the status of myth. And myth, as it turned out, was an extraordinarily effective recruitment tool.

Idealistic young people with great talent who might have turned their noses up at joining a network of glorified gossips were perfectly happy to join a legendary guild with a noble founding and a romantic history. Lio's lips twitched, as he always found the whole situation hilarious. Across from him, the heavyset man behind the counter hadn't looked up since after Lio sat down across from him. He continued cleaning the cup, a look of disinterest in his face.

Lio leaned his cheek against his fist, and waited, saying nothing. A few seconds passed.

"You're rather young," the man said finally. Lio nodded. The man shook his head.

"This place ain't for you. Run home to your mommy and ask for a kiss."

"I'm an orphan," Lio retorted.

"..." At that, the man set the cup down and glanced at Lio properly, his small thin eye flitting across Lio's body, clothes, hair, and posture. Lio let him look, a small smile curving his lips. The man's eyes narrowed.

"What do you want?" he gruffly asked. Lio pushed the coin he had placed on the counter forward. Then, reaching into his pocket, he pulled out another. Then a third. He tapped the metal gently and cocked his head at the man pleasantly.

"Information," he said.

"About a killer." The man leaned back in his chair, crossing his thick arms over his chest.

"A killer." He looked unimpressed.

"You mean the business with the flower shop?"

"Yes," Lio said. The man let out a small laugh, waving Lio off.

"Then you've wasted your coins and your time, boy. I found out about that same time as everyone else. Twenty minutes ago." He pushed the three coins back across the counter toward Lio.

"I've got nothing for you." Lio didn't touch the coins, instead leaning forward, staring right into the man's eyes.

"I'm not asking for information you already have," he said pleasantly.

"I'm asking you to find it." The man looked at him, unamused.

"That's a different service," he said.

"I know," Lio said.

"That's why I brought more than three coins." He reached into his coat and placed all of his remaining money from Crater City. The man's eyes studied the pile of money, a glint of greed coming to life in his eyes.

"Still, finding information on an active killer in my own settlement," the man said slowly, not taking his eyes off the coins, "is not a simple job."

"Of course not," Lio agreed.

"Which is why I'm also willing to give you somewhere to start." The man's eyes moved back up to his face, a tinge of surprise in them.

"You have leads?" This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"I have a couple of observations," Lio corrected.

"Things I noticed at the murder scene that might be useful to someone who knows how to follow them."

"Such as?"

"The method," Lio said, folding his hands together in front of him.

"The victim showed no signs of struggle at all." He grinned.

"In a populated settlement, in what was probably daylight, someone got close enough to do what they did without a single person nearby hearing anything at all!" He leaned even more forward, continuing.

"Also, I saw a bit of the knife work used to finish the woman. It was expertly done, something that no amateur could have pulled off." The man frowned.

"I didn't know that. That bastard Erygn got the whole thing closed down too well." Lio shrugged.

"Well, luckily, you got me." He folded up his sleeves, revealing the [Mach Heart] rune.

"You get what I'm getting at?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Someone had to have seen the killer before they went in. But…?"

"You think they have a rune that can make them invisible or something?" Lio shrugged.

"Maybe. Or maybe it's more complex than that. But you get what I'm getting at, right?"

"The murderer is probably a Delver?" Lio clapped his hands.

"Yep!" He blinked.

"Or a master butcher too, I guess…" A silence settled between them. The man glanced at the coins, grimacing as conflicting expressions passed across his face. Then finally, letting out a sigh, he reached across the counter and began sweeping the coins toward him. But before he could, Lio's hand came down flat on top of the pile. He nodded at the man pleasantly.

"One more thing." The man's eyes narrowed.

"The price is already set."

"This doesn't change the price," Lio said.

"It's just an additional instruction." He lifted his hand from the coins slowly.

"When you go asking your informants, I need you to break our client confidentiality with one person." The man scowled.

"That's not something I just do."

"I know," Lio said.

"Which is why I'm telling you specifically who, and specifically what to tell them." He held the man's gaze.

"There's an informant that goes by the name Job. I'm sure you know him. When you find what I need, tell dear Job something for me." The man frowned deeper, which Lio took as permission to continue.

"Tell him," Lio said quietly, "that the lamb is not always the one to be slaughtered." The man cocked his head at Lio, an unreadable expression on his face.

"That's… a strange message," he said finally.

"Yes," Lio agreed.

"You're not going to explain it?"

"Nope," Lio answered cheerfully. The man stared at him, then swept the coins the rest of the way into his pocket with one final motion.

"Fine. Give me two days," he said.

"Very well," Lio confirmed, and stood up. He buttoned his coat, and turned toward the door.

"Boy," the man called out behind him. Lio looked back. The man leaned forward, dropping his voice to a small whisper.

"Before you go. A word about Job." Lio waited.

"Job's been working this job for fifteen years," the man said.

"Longer than most people in this business last." He tapped the counter once with a thick finger.

"You want to know why?"

"Tell me," Lio said pleasantly.

"Because he grew up with nothing," the man said.

"And a man who grows up with nothing has nothing to lose." He shook his head slowly.

"I've seen too many talented people sit across from Job thinking they had the upper hand. And yet, I never saw him lose once in a battle of wits." The man shook his head, his face still in that unreadable expression.

"I'm only telling you this," he said quietly, "because you're an orphan, same as me. So I have a soft spot for orphans. Stupid of me, I know." Lio looked at the other man. Then he gave an easy smile.

"That's truly very kind of you," he said.

"But?" the man said in an unsurprised tone, raising his eyebrow.

"But," Lio continued, reaching for the door, "that's perfectly fine." He glanced back one final time.

"I also just want to play a simple game with him after all." And with that, he stepped through the door and back out into the alley. ◈◈◈◈ Lio stood in the quiet alley for a moment, letting his eyes adjust back to Trestfall's spore-light. Behind him, the storage building's hidden door clicked shut without a sound, and then it was completely indistinguishable from the surrounding wall again. He looked around at his surroundings.

The back street was empty save for a single Capling perched on an overturned crate at the alley's far end, nibbling at a small scrap of bread. It glanced up at him and signed a simple greeting, then quickly went back to eating. Looking away, Lio straightened his coat and began walking. Either Job would understand the message Lio had left for him or he wouldn't. Either way, the message had been placed, which meant that the pieces were also slowly falling into place.

However, right now, he had more immediate things to attend to. He turned out of the alley and back onto the wider street, where Trestfall's crowd had thinned considerably since the discovery at the flower shop. The old rowdy and loud noises were nowhere to be found, most people traveling in small groups while whispering beneath their breaths. He passed two women conferring anxiously near a produce stall, their eyes darting toward any unfamiliar face. The murder had done a number on the small settlement.

It had made everyone a suspect, and everyone a target as well. Lio moved towards the Union outpost, which was a ten minute walk from here. After all, he had already told Ophila and William he was going to check on Senna. There was a special type of elegance in following through on a lie with actual truth. Besides, he did need to see her. She was basically a treasure trove of information.

Because Senna sat at the desk of Trestfall's Union outpost, every Delver who passed through and bothered to log their descent left behind a paper trail. And that paper trail could tell you an extraordinary amount about who was moving through the settlement. More importantly right now, it could tell him whether Lupin and Acacia had registered a descent log. If they hadn't, that told him one thing. If they had, it told him something else. And then there was also the second reason.

As Senna had most likely been working the outpost during the hour that the murder most likely occurred, there was a chance that she had noticed something, but hadn't thought to report it. But she would tell him. She would tell him almost anything, Lio was sure of that. And so, he continued forward. The outpost came into view shortly after, its Union banner hanging limp in the windless air. Lio approached the door, already arranging his expression as he reached for the door handle. He pushed the door open.

"Senna, I—" He paused, his eyes narrowing. Senna was behind her desk, her hands folded neatly on top of her stack of forms. But the forms were untouched, pushed a bit to one side. Her hair had come loose from its ponytail on one side, a curl falling across her cheek.

"—and then he just fell straight into the canal!" she was saying, her voice bright and animated. She giggled.

"Boots and everything! You should have seen his face when he came back up—" She looked up at the sound of the door opening. The giggle faded, a wide smile replacing her expression when she saw him.

"Lio!" But Lio wasn't looking at her. His eyes moved to the other side of the desk, to the person she had been speaking to so cheerfully. What is she doing here?