APIBAGS Chapter 39

But like—where was that useful spirit when she was doing the cutting herself? She has Wind Cutters. She literally has Wind Cutters. Not that I wanted one aimed at us.

"Am I to be abandoned?"

Is she talking about being abandoned by the spirit? Well—even I'd cut and run if my contractor turned out to be a child trafficker.

"Yes. You didn't meet the criteria. So stop now."

Spirits in novels really do have impossibly high standards.

The director had now been abandoned by both the demon and the spirit, and apparently only now understood that her escape was cut off, because she started crying in earnest. The older children who Daisy had been protecting slipped out and took Troy back from the director.

"Kanna, look after this one and the children."

Was that Mary? Kanna took the child's hand and headed toward the corner. If I went over there, they might have a fit, so Kanna going was the best option.

Jelly looked after his friend too. So my job was to take the director back. I wasn't going to get stabbed, was I?

That was when Daisy approached. Right—I have Daisy. With the director, if two of us go in, the probability of getting stabbed is cut in half. But Daisy said something rather different.

"Why didn't you save Troy?"

What's she asking? Mary came out and drew the aggro! She got pulled by the aggro herself and everything.

It stung. But Daisy's insides must be in a state beyond words right now, so I decided to understand. That decision didn't make the hurt disappear.

"It wasn't part of our agreement."

Work and personal feelings have to stay separate, obviously. I decided to brazenly point out that protecting Troy was not specified in the contract terms, before Daisy could try to claw back the price for not saving him.

"Do you want to save him?"

"Yes. I want to save him."

"Fortunately, I have holy water. Only one bottle."

Since I'd be going out with Kanna, I'd brought a single bottle of holy water as emergency supply in case anything went sideways. And there it was—one bottle. The problem was that there were two casualties here.

Ideally I'd like to split it in half and have them share, but apparently—whatever properties have been assigned to holy water in this world, I don't know—that can't be done. A single bottle for a single person, they say.

So either Troy or Jelly's friend could receive the holy water, but not both. What even is this, a life-or-death story branch?! This is too heavy. I can't bring myself to choose.

I can't make this choice.

"Choose, Daisy. Which of the two shall I give the holy water to—Troy, or that man?"

I tossed it to Daisy. Daisy's eyes shot back something that was basically a curse—what kind of question even is that?

"Just kidding."

I retracted the statement, tears already pooled in my eyes. Right. The villainess here is me—so whatever it ends up being, I'll be the one to choose.

Daisy would obviously pick Troy, wouldn't she? That's right. Between a beastfolk with extraordinary regeneration and a person barely clinging to life, the latter was clearly more critical.

I produced the holy water I'd kept carefully on my person and gave it to Troy. The bleeding stopped immediately. In a few hours the flesh would knit and the wound would close perfectly. The holy water's performance really was extraordinary. No wonder it was so expensive.

And the poor, unchosen Melek—he'd get treated later, definitely. I'd make sure of it.

"I can't treat you right away—is that all right?"

I decided to at least give him notice, just in case. Honestly, just saving him at all should be something to be grateful for, right?

"...Yes. It is fine."

Jelly's friend answered without fuss. My conscience ached.

"That said, might I follow you?"

"Do you have nowhere to go?"

Jelly's friend nodded. No place to return to? Some unfortunate narrative involving loss of home sprang unbidden into my mind—slave traders sweeping up people indiscriminately, hometown lost, family scattered to the winds. It would be rude to pry into the details. I wouldn't.

"That's fine."

Jelly's friend looked satisfied. But wouldn't bringing a large blindfolded adult male back with me just add another strange rumor to the pile? Though telling him to take it off was a little frightening on my end. I hadn't even treated his injuries yet, and on top of that he couldn't see—I'd die of guilt.

"Melek, you're hurt..."

That little aggro-pulling kid came over and said something like that, which made my conscience feel like it was being hacked to pieces. Fine, let's not dawdle here—let's get him out and get him treated properly.

There was some cord on the floor that had been cut, so I used it to tie up the director.

"Watch out, it's dark!"

We supported the two injured people and made sure the children weren't hurt on the way up, and stepped out of the basement. The director offered to show us the way, but I didn't trust her, so I declined. Jelly sniffed around again instead and found the staircase quickly. We weren't long finding our way up.

"How did this get broken like this...?"

The director muttered blankly at the secret passage that had been pried open and was no longer secret. I'd only pushed it a little? Maybe the wood had rotted through with age.

"We're out..."

"Wahhh, I was so scared."

The children had been trapped underground for so long that on arriving aboveground, they wept with relief. Even Daisy, who'd been trying to calm them, had tears in her eyes.

Turning away from the sounds of crying, I looked around the room. Where had the one baking bread on the summoning circle gone off to?

"Pudding?"

The children's crying and a cat's crying blended together so I couldn't tell where Pudding was. I couldn't tell the crying children to stop crying, so I was the only one standing there flustered. I specifically told you to wait right here—where did you even go?

Even if an ordinary stray cat were a bit more concerning, at least Pudding was a beastfolk cat who understood words perfectly. Small mercy.

Mrrow—.

And from beyond the door came the sound of a cat. That's Pudding! I threw the door open in delight and met Pudding's eyes.

You grew a lot in just that short time, didn't you? We're at eye level now…. Ah— no, that's wrong. Pudding was being held in someone's arms. I glanced upward, and a very familiar face looked back at me.

"Sir Gabriel?"

"Good evening, Lady Rohanson."

Why—why are you holding my cat? And out of nowhere, another familiar figure appeared from behind Gabriel.

"Henna?"

What is going on?

Without any cause for suspicion, Gabriel immediately launched into a lengthy, rambling defense—looking exactly like a man caught with a secret lover. So, to summarize...

"You came looking for me?"

"I must apologize most sincerely for calling without prior notice at this late hour."

The outline of events was simple enough. Gabriel had come looking for me for reasons of some kind.

But I'd been out. And in the meantime he'd happened to meet Henna. Henna said she'd clearly heard Kanna say "I'll just be a moment" before leaving, but it had gotten so late that she'd been outside waiting out of worry. Kanna, really—how long did you think we were going to be gone that you said "just a moment"...

At that point the two of them had a shared purpose. An Evangeline ( Kanna) search party had formed.

They'd gotten the destination by squeezing it out of the butler, taken a temple carriage and come all the way here, but there was no one inside the orphanage building and they'd been alarmed.

"If it hadn't been for Pudding, I would have turned around and gone back."

That's why Pudding was there in his arms, then. The Pudding cradled in Gabriel's arms looked thoroughly exhausted. Our baby—can't even speak human yet, but how hard must he have worked, throwing everything into non-verbal communication, to end up this wrung out. What a good, brave thing you are.

I took Pudding back, and Gabriel's expression sharpened.

"Now then. Would you be so kind as to explain what situation this is?"

That is... a long story to get into...

Where should I even start? From when I went to find Daisy? But going to find someone who'd already quit out of nowhere seemed too suspicious. I couldn't exactly say I'd been trying to find out what she'd heard.

"I think it would be more accurate to hear it from Daisy. After all, our coming here was because of her request."

Just as she had before, Kanna became my relief pitcher. Absolutely right, and every word of it. The world should know: my heroine is this sharp.

From behind Kanna, Daisy bowed her head briefly. Hm—it seemed like the two of them had grown somewhat close. Or was that my imagination?

"We meet again."

"So we do."

"Then might I ask you to explain?"

Daisy glanced at me, then began.

The director had been trafficking the children from the orphanage for years since they were young. This time, because Troy had used the orphanage building as collateral for a loan, she had confined the children in the basement in order to cover the full debt.

As evidence, she produced the trafficking records she'd collected from the director's office.

Daisy never once mentioned spirits. Was she keeping the secret out of solidarity since there was a connection to me? Though what good was that with the circle drawn so obviously right there on the floor.

"Then this drawing..."

"It looks like she copied it after seeing the painting in the Grand Temple. If you check the temple entry records, you should be able to confirm it."

If you don't find it, your investigation is lacking—that was the implication. A very nice handling.

"What becomes of Director Merai?"

"We will hold her until trial. There appears to be a connection to the painting as well."

If Gabriel handles it, that was reassuring.

"Uriel, proceed with transporting Merai Miller."

Oh—I'd had something to ask the director.

Uriel took the director into custody and was heading toward the carriage, so I asked whether it would be all right to speak with her briefly. Uriel readily agreed and told me to take whatever time I liked.

I'd expected desperate eyes begging me to help, but the director looked strangely serene—as though she'd given something up.

"What will become of me?"

"You'll face punishment."

My heart hammered. Ask her how she summoned the spirit! To start with, that was a spirit, right?

"You know what it was that you called forth, I take it."

The director glanced at Uriel, then gave a vague answer.

"...The worst nuisance imaginable. Who wouldn't listen to a word I said."

So it really was a wind spirit. Their freedom was a racial trait.

"How you called it forth...?"

"I remember it perfectly."

And on that, the director sealed her lips.

Why won't you say? No—why are you the only one who remembers?

It felt exactly like asking a friend if they had an eraser and having them say yes. That's an implied request, obviously! It's like an unspoken social rule, isn't it? ...Does that rule not apply across different conworlds?

I wanted to grab her by the collar and demand she open her mouth, but there were too many eyes here. Gabriel's knights, the children... if I slipped up and the work I'd put into clearing my reputation collapsed, I couldn't afford to act rashly.

Nothing to be done about it.