It wasn’t a long walk to the kitchen, but even so we stopped to enjoy the manor along the way. Sure, there was a mystery for us to be solving… but the chairs in front of the fireplace were inviting and plush, the fire was roaring in the hearth, and Anya had left so we had the den all to ourselves. It was hard to resist the opportunity to relax in a place as nice as this.
Aeshma had even found a tray full of tasty niblets on one of the side-tables, so we had something to tide us over until our proper meal. For whatever reason Tatzel had turned her nose up at the stuff, but Aeshma and I were happy enough to have a little appetizer while we luxuriated in front of the fire.
Jie seemed to be enjoying the downtime too. He had skittered off my head and was scoping out all the hunting trophies mounted on the walls, probably trying to decide whether they were worth munching on. Right now he seemed to think they weren’t.
“Hey team, can we ‘alk ‘or a minute?” Aeshma said through a mouthful of fruity morsels. She was already sorting through the platter for the choicest bits for her next snack. “‘Cus I fink–”
“Would you please swallow your, uh, ‘food’ before you speak?” interrupted Tatzel. “You're spitting little pieces everywhere.”
Aeshma swallowed obnoxiously. “I was saying, I think we’re being way too soft on these people. We only have a day and a half to get to the bottom of this thing, and we’re just, like, poking around and asking questions. We oughta start twisting arms, knocking skulls, right?”
“That wouldn’t really be in the spirit of a murder mystery investigation, though,” I said. “Also some of these people are innocent bystanders. We probably shouldn’t beat them up if they haven’t done anything wrong.”
Aeshma scrunched her nose. “I just feel like my investigative talents aren’t being appreciated.”
“That’s because you don’t have any investigative talents,” Tatzel said coldly. Her gravitas was diminished by the fact that she had sunk deep into the plush cushion of her armchair and was currently struggling to grab a book off of a neighboring end-table.
It was still a mean thing for her to say, though. Not to mention untrue.
“Hold on a second. Aeshma, couldn’t you use your Succubus powers to help with the investigation?” I asked. “Like, to persuade people to give us information about the case. I know you haven’t been Leveling them directly, but maybe they scale based on your total Level?”
Aeshma chewed more slowly as she considered. “Hm, I hadn’t thought of that. Let’s see…”
Her feathery black lashes fluttered closed as familiar patterns began to scintillate across her body. Lilac flesh shifted to bronze before reverting to its native hue. Her horns smoothed out and transformed into hair then back again, while her real hair vacillated between curly, wavy, and straight. “Heeeey Roland, why don’t you go find us another tray of these tasty little finger foods?” she asked with a wink, her face an unnerving medley of purple and bronze.
Not that it wasn’t fascinating to watch, but just like when she’d tried this trick on the shopkeeper, I wasn’t feeling particularly ensorceled. It was nothing like the feeling I got from physical contact with her, anyway.
“Uh, no thanks, bud. I don't think this is working any better than it did a few days ago.”
Tatzel looked on, aghast. “Have you truly put nothing into your base Glamor? You… you can’t even affect a Level Zero?” She peeled herself out of the armchair to glare at Aeshma more effectively. “That's utterly absurd. Of course I knew about your predilection for off-meta builds, but how do you possibly expect to survive higher-Level–”
Aeshma's head snapped to Tatzel and her skin instantly flashed back to its native lilac. As she rose out of her chair, the Succubus seemed to grow and tower above us, her horns curling and sharpening as her figure stretched impossibly towards the painted ceiling. Eyes like heated coal fixed themselves to Tatzel.
I hoped there never came a day where Aeshma looked at me that way. Jie scuttled across the room and back onto my head to lick a bead of sweat off my brow, while Tatzel sank down in her armchair. “Okay! Queen's breath, Ae, I get it,” Tatzel said, shivering.
And then Aeshma was back to normal; still looming over Tatzel's chair, but at her typical seven-foot stature, with little flecks of food on her chin and a smug expression on her mug. “Yeah, so I figure I can do something like that instead of a Glamor?”
"I love it. But let's save it for when we've got the killer on the ropes,” I said.
–
We followed our noses to the kitchens. It was no surprise that we found Agita the maid there, tending to her duties. She was tossing lumps of venison into a stainless steel meat grinder, only pausing in order to stir the tall stock-pot that was simmering away on the stove. Half a dozen pie crusts were rolled out on the floured marble countertops, just waiting to be filled; half a dozen others had already been baked and were out on cooling racks.
The kitchens were well-equipped, but they didn’t have the same charm as the rest of the mansion. Where the other rooms we’d seen were rustic and homey, the kitchens were utilitarian, totally undecorated, with grippy rubber mats on the floor and an industrial-sized sink jammed into the far corner. Clearly it wasn’t the kind of place intended for the owners of the mansion, but rather for use by their servants.
Which made it somewhat strange that Lem, the younger sibling, was there too, idly chit-chatting with the maid as he scooped lumps of fresh-baked pie into his mouth.
We heard Agita call out from in front of the stove, “You mustn’t eat so quickly, Master Lem. You know how it upsets your stomach. If your lady mother finds out about this, she’ll give me a right talking to.”
“Oh Agita, I’m not five years old anymore. My tummy doesn’t upset nearly so easily as it used to,” said Lem, before emitting an unpleasant and untimely gurgle. “And even if it does, Mother doesn’t need to know that you baked me a whole pie to eat by myself!”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Aeshma’s horns thumped into the top of the doorway. The noise alerted Agita, who spun around, clutching at her chest. “Oh! Oh, it’s just you three. You scared the dickens out of me, I didn’t realize you were there. Beg your pardon for the mess in here, I wasn’t expecting anyone to visit the kitchens.”
She turned the heat down on the stove and smoothed down the front of her apron. “What can I do for you? Supper won’t be ready for another hour or two, but if you’re hungry now, I’d be happy to whip something up.”
“Why don’t you serve them some pie, Agita?” said Lem, before turning to us conspiratorially. “I think I gain five pounds every time we come to the estate. If Agita had her way I’d never have an empty mouth.”
We all agreed that pie sounded good, so Agita curtsied and started dishing some out for us – but not before sneaking an extra dollop of whipped cream onto Lem’s slice. She seemed to enjoy spoiling the man.
I took a quick glance around the room while we stood at the counter. Despite Agita apologizing for how messy it was in here, the kitchens actually seemed rather clean. Other than the ongoing food prep, the only mess of note was the dumbwaiter set into the wall, full of empty bowls just like the one we’d seen on the nightstand in the master bedroom.
A slice of pie came sliding my way down the counter: apple-rhubarb by the looks of it, gooey and piping hot.
Lem put down his fork and looked at us seriously. “So is there any news? Have you determined who murdered Father?”
“Unfortunately, we don’t have any concrete conclusions to share quite yet,” said Tatzel, really upselling our grip on the situation. “But while we have you here, perhaps you could answer a few questions?” Without waiting for Lem to respond, she continued, “Your mother informed us that Horlen had been feuding with your father over whether to sell the business. Do you know anything about that? It seems like it might be important, considering the argument they had last night, as well as the business meeting your father called with Dracorn.”
Lem’s eyes dropped to his plate. “Oh dear. Yes, Father and Horlen argued over the fate of the business quite often, that much I know. Father wanted to sell the business to Dracon but Horlen didn't.” He sighed, before looking back up at us with his wet, buggy eyes. “I'm afraid that's about the extent of my knowledge. I don’t have any involvement in the family business myself, you see.”
“Do ‘ou fink 'Racorn ‘oulda done it?,” asked Aeshma through a mouthful of pie. Tatzel glared at her as crumbs went flying with every syllable.
Lem’s eyes bounced between the lot of us, as if he was trying to decide whether deputizing us had been a horrendous mistake. Finally he sighed. “Could Dracorn have done it? I suppose so. Would he have done it, though? No, I don’t think so. Dracorn’s been trying to get his hands on Dringel & Son since… well, since it was just Dringel. For decades, at least. With Father gone, the business passes to Horlen by default – and Horlen would never, ever sell. He loves smithing too much to ever give up the business, not for any amount of money.”
He wiped a tear out of his eye and cleared his throat. “I don't see any reason why Dracorn would have m-murdered my father. If you’re asking me to guess why Dracorn did it, just assuming he did, I guess… it could’ve been out of frustration? Negotiations gone w-wrong, or something? I’m sorry, I don’t really know h-how stuff like that works. I already told you I’m not involved in the business or anything. And I didn’t think…” Lem’s voice trailed off tearfully.
“Oh okay. That all makes sense,” Aeshma said. A silence stretched between us, which Aeshma took as her cue to reach across the counter and, over my protests, polish off what remained of my slice of pie. Once it was down the hatch, her face suddenly lit up. “Oh yeah, there was something else we were wondering about! Your mom found the body, right?” she asked.
Lem let out a small sob. Agita laid a hand protectively on his shoulder and spoke up in his place. “Yes, it’s just like I told you. When Lady Anya woke up, she found Master Dringel’s… body,” she whispered, lowering her voice to keep from further upsetting Lem.
“Yeah, we were confused about that though!” Aeshma said excitedly. “Why wouldn’t Anya hear the guy getting his chest smashed in? That was a heavy-ass mace!”
Lem let out another choked sob and started shovelling pie into his mouth.
“I… normally I wouldn’t tell anyone about this, being Master Dringel and Lady Anya’s private affairs,” claimed Agita, who had already gossiped to us about them like an hour ago. “I was ordered that no one outside the family was to know about it. But under the circumstances, I think it’s alright for me to share with you three detectives. Anya and Dringel always had a Mute spell cast upon their room in the evenings. You may have noticed they slept in separate beds, as well. That was so Master Dringel’s comings and goings wouldn’t disturb his lady wife’s sleep.”
I elbowed Aeshma. “What does Mute do?”
“Just what it sounds like, dude. It mutes an area, makes it so there’s no sound there.”
That explained why Anya didn’t wake up during the murder. And Agita confirmed Anya’s story about why she and Dringel slept in separate beds.
“Who cast the Mute spell? Was it you?” Tatzel asked, shooing Aeshma’s hand away from her slice of pie.
“Oh, goodness me, no,” said Agita. “I only know a few basic sorceries… spells to mend frayed fabrics or remove stubborn stains, things like that. It was Master Dringel who cast the nightly Mute. He didn’t take much interest in magic, bless him, but he invested a few Levels in Wizard just to learn that one spell. All to keep from waking Lady Anya.”
That struck me as kind of strange. Myself excepted, it seemed like people around here took their Levels pretty seriously. Spending a bunch of them to learn a single spell seemed… weird. Frivolous. Even if Dringel was restless like Anya said, couldn't he have just stayed in bed and read a book or something? What was so important that he had to get up?
“What would he do during the night?” I asked.
“He’d shut himself away in his study. I presume he was working, as I was under strict orders not to disturb him. Often he’d ask me to leave a hot bowl of soup in there for him before I turned in for the night. ‘Night soup’, he called it. A bit of a midnight-snacker, was our Master Dringel… but then, we all have our vices,” she said wistfully.
“Did he ask you for this ‘night soup’ last night, before the murder?” Tatzel asked.
Agita shook her head. “No, but that wasn't unusual. It wasn't every night that he’d retreat to his study.”
There was a suspicious gleam in Tatzel’s eye as she pushed away her empty plate. She seemed just as suspicious of Dringel’s late-night activities as I was.
“Thanks for the pie, Agita,” I said. “And thanks to the both of you for answering all our questions. I think we’ll head out now, maybe go check out the study and see what Dringel was working on. I think it might be related to the case.”
“Very good,” said Agita. “Take the second turn past the conservatory. The study’s at the end of the hall.”
Lem’s sobs echoed after us as we exited the kitchens.
NOTABLE PEOPLE
---------------------------
Agita LV 8
Ancestry: Human
Class: Attendant
Notable Perks:
Attend: Quickly fix a minor issue with your subject, i.e., clean worn clothing, dry something, make a bed.
Invigorating cooking: Meals prepared by you provide additional nourishment and energy.
