I grumbled as we walked away from the latest person who’d closed the door in our face. Around us the roughly cobbled street was half-full of passersby, and the buildings around here sagged with age, many showing signs of repair on their old stone walls.

We’d been at it all day, plying markets and taverns on the hunt for information about the murders. In our desperation, we’d even tried going door to door the last hour or so. While we weren’t met with any outright hostility, everyone we met seemed guarded. In short, we had no answers and a lot of wasted time. Well, three of us did. Nelys was off somewhere on their own, and given the proclivity of the murderer—or murderers—I felt safe enough letting them act alone.

“Don’t worry boss!” Taava teased. “I’m sure they’re just scared a ya!”

“Gee, thanks,” I answered glumly.

“No problem! I know just the song ta cheer—”

“Taava,” Seyari warned. “We’re already drawing too much attention. Pipe down.”

Taava hissed, then whispered, “No-fun angels…” under her breath.

I looked around and we were indeed drawing a lot of attention. A quick glance at my outfit and I had a good idea why. “I think we’re overdressed.”

“Me?” Taava started, then snapped her mouth shut to avoid reprisal.

“I agree,” Seyari said. “Not to mention we’re an odd group. I’m clearly not Edathan, and that’s before my hair and eyes. Taava sticks out even worse.”

“’Cuz I’m a cute kazzel?” Taava asked, sing-song voice thick with faux-saccharinity.

Seyari wasn’t having any of it. “No, because you’re a blaringly loud nuisance.”

“Aww, thanks, Sey!” Taava replied with enough sarcasm to give me a headache.

I stopped walking and turned back to see the pair glaring daggers at each other, the shorter kazzel up on tiptoes to try to meet eye to eye with Seyari.

Seyari stared right back at Taava. “And now we’re making a scene. Nelys had it right when they said we should split up.”

“S’that why they’re gone?” Taava spoke out of the side of her mouth, unwilling to lose the staring contest.

I honestly didn’t know who would win, but the increasing stares of passersby and the few people forced to walk around us on the road gave me the impression I shouldn’t find out. I passed a hand between them, and then again before they broke off. Seyari gave me a glare that tried to imply this disagreement was my fault and Taava turned up her chin at the half-angel, tail twitching irritably behind her.

Anger spilled out from both of them, played up but also very real.

“Yes,” I chose not to acknowledge either of them. “That’s why they’re gone. Constant rejection has clearly made us all frustrated. Let’s go swing by the inn, grab a drink, change, and split up. We can also see if our contact has any ‘ins’ we can use to maybe ingratiate ourselves a little more. If it takes a week, that’s fine by me.”

Taava scoffed. “Fine, but ya can’t make me happy about it!”

I rolled my eyes and consumed her anger.

Her smile drooped. “…Fine. You can’t make me happy though!”

I crossed my arms and stared down at the sometimes-bard. “I’ll pay for the drinks.”

“Three cheers for the boss!” Taava, threw up her arms, spun on a heel, and skipped away back down the street.

“What’s gotten into her?” Seyari asked.

“We had a talk.”

She raised an eyebrow. “On that night?”

“Yes, that night. Look, I’m sorry I—”

“Just tell me next time, okay. I was worried when I woke up.”

Guilt hit me… again. “Right,” I rubbed the back of my head. “Right, yeah. I will—I promise.”

Seyari started to walk after Taava and I followed. “What did you two talk about that night anyway?”

I looked up, scanning the gray sky for my answer before I replied. “Her. Who she wants to be.”

“And she’s chosen to be like that?” Seyari giggled.

“I think she’s still figuring it out.” I looked back down at my girlfriend and took Seyari’s hand in my own as we walked.

“Either that or she’s messing with us.” Seyari squeezed gently, and I reveled in her warmth.

“I hope it’s the former,” I admitted. “In a way, she’s a little like you. Maybe. Or me, or Nelys.”

“Or not,” Seyari was quick to remind me. “How do you know what she showed you that night wasn’t just another façade?”

“I can read her anger—I think it was real, at least some of it was.” Still, I frowned. “What reason would she have to fake it anyway?”

I’m a sucker for sympathy is one thing. For now, I’ll just choose to believe she’s sincere. If she is and I doubt her, I’d hurt her more than anything I could imagine.

“Maybe I’m just pessimistic.” Seyari softened her tone, probably sensing my discomfort.

“Can’t say I disagree,” I said honestly, forcing a lopsided smile that quickly turned very real.

Seyari pouted. The expression looked… off on her.

Her pout turned into a thin-lipped frown. “I didn’t get it right, did I?” she asked.

I shook my head and giggled. “No. No you didn’t.”

Seyari looked up at me, frown hopelessly losing the battle to stay dour. “I have no idea how you make that face pout. Shouldn’t be possible.”

“Probably a demon thing,” I shrugged, dropping my voice to a whisper. “Why do you want to learn to pout anyway?”

“I need to learn my own weaknesses and exploit yours where I can,” Seyari said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I took a minute to process her reply, running my mind back through the last couple of days. “Dominance thing?” I asked, tilting my head. “Because if this is about the make-up sex then I can totally—”

Seyari slapped a hand over my mouth. “Not. Another Word. It was great—you did great. I’m just figuring some things out is all.”

I smiled wider. “Oou ont ike eeng ottm,” I said through Seyari’s fingers.

She huffed and removed one hand, dragging me by the other back to the tavern. “The sooner we split up to go chase leads the better!”

I stumbled along after Seyari, a big dumb grin plastered all across my face. Murderer on the loose or not, we all needed moments of levity.

***

Fed and watered, I took one last look at myself in our inn room’s small, dim mirror. I was wearing a simple light blouse and dark trousers, but they were tight enough to show off my arms and thighs. Not by choice, but because the clothes I could get on short notice were too small. Another quick modification job was what the ensemble was, and with my hair in a braid, I looked mostly the part of a tomboyish city girl. A big one. Hopefully nothing would require me to break my human transformation; this outfit wouldn’t take that well.

Regrettably, I was going to leave my spear behind, though I did take a cloth insignia of the Gelles Company with me—just in case. Nelys was probably still casing the streets, while Taava had volunteered the nicer taverns and street corners to ply her trade as a wandering bard and see what she could hear. Seyari took the opportunity to go door-to-door.

To my immense surprise, the half-angel’s idea was to offer to heal the sick. Not to pretend to be with the Church, but a simple wandering half-angel. A kind gesture to be sure, but one she’d been adamantly against in the past. Maybe she’s changing even more.

Really, we all were. This outfit showed off more than I would have dared—including copious cleavage—a month or so ago. And I was happy in it; confident too.

My job was to go to the more hard-up taverns. Our contact Guard Captain Kerra set me up to spend part of the night as a waitress at one, then I’d finish the night at the “worst” of the lot. Even if anyone was crazy enough to try something despite my size and… obvious musculature, I wouldn’t have a problem subduing them. Unless they were a demon. Actually, even then…

Anyway, that was the plan. Right now, thinking about all of this again, my confidence started to rapidly fade.

The hell did I sign on for?

Well, the more things change…

Before I could ruin my own moment, I grabbed a knife (for show), checked my tighter-than-usual braid, and strode out of the inn confidently. Few people were about in the pale, cold light of the winter afternoon. I ignored any looks or unwanted comments aimed my way and focused on my goals as I walked.

There were one or more murderers on the loose and some people thought a demon might be among them. The victims were all veterans of the civil war—from both sides—but I didn’t have great information beyond that. I needed information on victims: anything that anyone might know or have seen.

In a local tavern, I was going to stick out. As “new waitstaff,” I might be able to slip into the background enough to over hear something. Anything I learn there, I can potentially use as an “in” at my last stop. I hoped nothing untoward would happen, but I was unfortunately ready for things to go sideways, running through scenarios in my head up until the moment I knocked on the back door of the tavern.

An older woman opened the door, then stared up from chest to my face. “Who are you?” she asked. She wore an apron that looked washed, but had stains that clearly wouldn’t come off. Her face had lines of age, although the severe expression she sported under her dark eyes smoothed them out somewhat.

“Renna,” I replied simply. “I’m here for waitstaff work.”

The woman narrowed her eyes, so I quickly produced the slip of paper our contact had given me. She looked it over, frowned, then waved me inside.

“You have any experience?” she asked.

I shook my head.

The woman swore. “Fine. I’ll have Hannah show you the ropes. Don’t expect any pay.”

I nodded. “I won’t. Anyone I should try to talk or pay attention to? I really do want to get to the bottom of all this.”

The woman sighed. “I don’t really know… well, there is one regular: Jenz. Big beard, eyepatch, and usually sits at one of the corner tables. I think he’s here tonight as well, but he’s not a talker. Lost his partner who was in the war recently, but I don’t know anything more.”

It wasn’t hard to catch on that the woman wasn’t pleased with our arrangement. “I promise to do my best,” I offered. “I’m not going to just half-ass it.”

My appeal didn’t work and the woman rolled her eyes. “Whatever. At least what you’re wearing is fine. I’ll go get Hannah. Wait here.”

I did as I was told, looking around the bare hallway. An ajar door led to the kitchen, from which came the semi-pleasant aroma of under-seasoned stew. A narrow staircase led upstairs, likely to private quarters. The door at the end of the hall swung shut, shutting off the sound of the patrons in the bar.

Despite this, I did catch the woman I had just spoken to—presumably the owner—yell out to Hannah. Moments later, a harried young woman jogged into the hallway. She was slim, and small.

“Hey—” she said, then stopped when she saw how tall I was. “The hell are you so big?”

I shrugged. “Hell if I know.”

Hannah shook her head, sending some of her light brown hair flying before patting it back in place. “Look, we’re slammed right now, so get in there, okay!”

She grabbed my hand and started to drag me down the hallway. “I, uh, don’t have any experience. I’m Renna by the way.”

Hannah stopped. “Hannah. And what the hell’d you get hired for? I don’t have time to teach you!”

I started to have the feeling I might be in over my head. “I, uh…”

“Look, it doesn’t matter. I guess some guys’ll like a girl that’s taller than them. But you gotta do more than be eye candy, okay?”

I nodded, feeling a strange mix of pride and resentment at Hannah’s comment. “I’ll do my best. What do you need?”

Hannah frowned. “A godsdamned doppelganger—I don’t have enough hands!”

I wanted to make the joke so, so badly.

“Do you want me to take orders? Bring out food and drinks?”

Hannah thought a moment, wincing at a shout from out in the tavern. “Both. You take the left side of the room—I’ll take the right. If a table’s in the middle—I’ll take it. If I need anything else I’ll yell. Got it?”

I thought about trying to remember orders and gulped. “Yeah, uh, got it.”

“Good.” Hannah dragged me out toward the front and just as we passed through the doors my demonic hearing caught her whispering “this’s gonna be a disaster” under her breath.

Once we got into the tavern, a lot of looks were sent Hannah’s way, but several of them stopped on me. The waitress handed me two mugs and pointed to a table on the left. Take these to those two. Then look around for any orders. Bring them back to the bar, and the kitchen for food.

I recalled where I saw the kitchen earlier and nodded. “Got it.”

“Good. Go.”

I went. One of the two men at the table I dropped the drinks off at immediately took his, gulping it down.

The other man wrapped a hand around his and asked, “Are you new?”

“Yeah, uh, I am,” I replied.

“The hell’re you from? Didn’t know they made girls that big.”

“Linthel,” I answered.

The other man finished with a sigh and set the mug down on the table harder than necessary. “What’d yer parents feed ya?”

Please don’t let this be how tonight goes. Already, I was getting a little overwhelmed trying to listen in on other conversations and talk to these two. I caught Hannah’s eye and she pointed to another table. Thanks.

“Lots of meat and exercise,” I replied quickly. “I have another order I need to go take.” I turned to leave.

“Wait!” one of them shouted.

I turned, annoyed.

“I’ll have the stew—extra meat!”

“Understood,” I said perhaps a little coldly, taking a quick few steps to the next table.

The group here looked for all the world like a party just in from the wildlands. Leather, worn traveling clothes, and weapons at hips. All human, and from what I could tell two guys and two girls.

“What can I get you,” I asked, trying to keep the stew with extra meat in my mind.

Thankfully, the group ordered easily, and the only comment I got was “nice muscles” from one of the girls.

Soon enough, and to my surprise, I slipped into a rhythm. I made a few mistakes, and learned that “extra meat” wasn’t available for the stew. That guy had backed down after standing and realizing just how large I was.

Really, the place wasn’t so rough. Unfortunately, the most I overheard about the murders were the same rumors I already knew. The regular I was watching, Jenz, kept to himself, alone at his table even in the crowded tavern.

It wasn’t until the crowd thinned that he flagged me over.

“Can I get you anything?” I asked.

“You’re watchin’ me,” he replied in a gravelly voice. “I want to know why.”

His tone implied all the threat it needed to. The fact I was unbothered didn’t pass unnoticed, either: Jenz narrowed his eyes.

“I’m trying to solve the murders,” I said in a hushed tone. “Figured I could get information here—from you or someone else.”

Jenz grunted approval. “Didn’t expect a straight answer. I’ll have a mug of ale—and they should know not to water it down for me.”

“Certainly,” I started. “But what about—”

“A mug of ale,” Jenz replied with a glare.

I snapped my mouth shut and straightened up. We locked eyes for a moment, but I relented, and walked quickly off to get him a mug.

Hannah met me by the bar, and after delivering her own order, she stopped me. “Talking to Jenz? I’m surprised he spoke more than two words to you.”

I glanced back his way. He didn’t look like he was watching. I also didn’t get any flashes of anger. “Yeah, I guess,” I said noncommittally.

Hannah shot me an inquisitive look, but didn’t say anything. She grabbed her mug and I took mine, noting the darker color of the liquid. I guess they really did water down ale in cheap taverns. And whoever Jenz was, he was good or threatening enough to be exempt.

I walked it back to Jenz, waving to the ragtag mercenary group on their way out. The place was really starting to die down, and the chill wind from the door the party left through gave me a good idea why. Homes, and warm beds.

“Set it here,” Jenz said, annoyed.

I realized I’d drifted off a little; I felt tired—not physically though. I set the mug down and turned, but Jenz’s voice stopped me.

“Sit,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

I glanced at Hannah who gave me a surprised look back before hurrying to cover what was left of my side of the room. I pulled out the chair across from Jenz and sat down, the old wood creaking in protest.

“Who are you?” Jenz asked, leaning closer.

“Zarenna Miller,” I replied with as much surety as I could muster.

“Hmm. Who sent you?”

I shook my head. “No one. Guard Captain Kerra directed me to a contact who directed me here. Then the owner mentioned you.”

“Why?”

“I want to solve the murders. Edath is my home—and I want to help.”

“Who do you work for?”

“The Gelles Company, although this is personal.” I handed him the cloth insignia.

Jenz took it and examined it, his hard face impossible for me to read. At last, he ran a hand through his beard and handed it back.

“You mentioned the murders?” Jenz asked rhetorically. “I know a few things, but I won’t tell ya here. Get a room and meet me upstairs. You’re too straight-laced for your own good, but I have a feelin’ you’re not lyin’.”

I nodded and stood.

“I’ll be up when I finish,” Jenz said, taking a slow sip of his ale.

I returned to the counter and Hannah accosted me.

“What’d he say? I’ve never heard Jenz talk to anyone before!”

“Nothing much,” I shrugged.

The waitress heaved a sigh. “I knew you weren’t hired here.”

“Sorry,” I apologized honestly. “I can’t talk about it, but I do hope you get someone else to help out soon.”

“That’d be nice,” Hannah agreed, turning away. “To be honest, you were a pretty shit waitress.”

Hey!

Wearing a frown, I ordered a room and headed upstairs. Jenz wasn’t even halfway through his mug when I left, so I’d have some time to think before he joined me. I hoped for his sake, I wasn’t walking into an ambush. I’d been yanked around enough the past few days already—my ability to be the “overly nice wrath demon” was running perilously thin.