Kami crossed her arms over her chest and looked down upon the still face of her brother. He was now where Emah had convalesced, in Sami Suttar’s bed on the second floor of the man’s one-time shop and home. Kura’s bandages were dark with blood, his breathing weak and inconsistent. She did not know if he would survive, but if he did, she thought that Kura still faced a long road of recovery ahead of him.

The roil of emotions within her was difficult to separate into individual strands; there was grief, loss, and anger, surely, at their vastly diminished sibling relationship and so many times they weren’t there for one another. The hurt and disappointment were the reason why she had so rarely reached out to connect with her brother these past years. Yet, looking down on his still form, there was also fondness for several shared memories, mostly when their parents had lived. Laughter and comfort. She could see the young boy in his face still, the strong older brother that she had waited to rescue her from the Heron so often as a young girl. Of course, on the heels of those fond emotions, concern and anxiety filled her, too, not sure whether Kura would awaken from his injuries and, if so, what state of mind he would be in. Would the ratfolk priest still be controlling him? If not, how would he react to his strange companion’s death and her presence? Would her brother stop breathing and die, right here as she watched, with so many things unsaid between them? The emotions stewed and churned within her chest and belly. She felt faintly sick at them all.

Through it all, Kami kept her face still and impassive. No tears fell. No nostalgic, wistful smile twisted her lips. She spoke no words, of either comfort or rebuke. Indeed, she regarded Kura so stoically that twice she reminded herself to breathe so as not to unnerve the others in the room.

“I’ve done what I can,” Emah said beside her after a long silence. “I’m not a true healer, you understand. We can find a medic. Inspector Calenta will…”

“…Arrest him and throw him in a dungeon for the rest of his days, never letting the medic’s hands touch him,” Kami said without feeling. “You know this as well as I do.”

Emah blew out a noisy sigh. “Okay, fair. But he and his friend did kill her men. And he’s part of the Dragons…” her voice trailed off, clearly unsure how to complete that thought. “Anyway, Calenta is going to have to see the mess downstairs sooner than later. When the Watchmen don’t check in, she’ll either come over herself or send someone, and she’ll wonder why we didn’t contact her immediately.”

“Well, life is full of disappointment,” Kami said, and turned to regard Emah. The warrior was now fully dressed, kitted for battle, with her signature blade hanging from one hip. Behind her knelt Maly Wywich, looking surly and worried. The young woman’s eyes glanced over at Kami, but never strayed far from the blank panther’s form, laid across a pile of blankets on the floor of the bedroom. Emah had made a fuss about moving Destiny, but Maly had insisted that they get him out of the entryway and somewhere he could rest. Kami had carried the great cat as easily as she did anything requiring strength these days and had tried to be gentle while doing so.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Emah’s face was hard and dour.

“It means that I don’t care what Calenta thinks right now. If Kura can wake before she comes, he can tell us something. I would rather not speed her arrival if I can help it.”

“But–” Emah started stubbornly, but Kami raised a hand.

“Please, Ms. Elmhill. I am not trying to shirk our contract or do anything illegal. I only wish to buy time for my brother to speak with me before he is locked away.” She tried to summon some of the playacting innocence she drew on as a prostitute but couldn’t find it within her. Instead, she looked flatly back at Emah through her wooden half-mask, waiting.

After a heartbeat, the warrior nodded once. “Fine. I just want to do something. How do we get the box back?”

“We are not going back into those tunnels,” Maly protested from the floor. “Besides, Destiny is the only one that could track the ratfolk priest. We’d be lost down there.”

“Agreed,” Kami said. “Our only recourse, it seems, is to hope that Kura can provide useful information.”

“It’s just so frustrating,” Emah huffed, her gloved fists balling. “The priest was right here and we didn’t know it! We could have ended it and–”

The sentence went unfinished.

Something went BOOM! from a lower floor, rocking the entire house as if it were a ship striking a rocky shore. Kami and Emah stumbled, and Maly jumped to her feet, eyes wide.

“What was–” she started to ask, and then a wave of… awfulness swept over them. Nausea, sickness, and despair combined into something that felt like a physical wave that rippled through the room. The three of them stumbled again, and even Kura groaned with unease from his bed.

“Something’s happened…” Maly whispered. “Something bad.”

“The ritual?” Kami stammered, her stomach heaving. “Could the priest…?”

“It was still right here the whole time!” Emah gasped. “Come on!”

The three of them pounded down the stairs to the first floor, looking around wildly. In the entryway, blood was everywhere, along with three now-neatly-arranged corpses, but nothing was obviously amiss. With a quick scan, Emah shouted for them to follow and pushed her way down the inner staircase, to the basement.

The basement, Kami realized with wide eyes. Why hadn’t they checked it after the battle? The basement was where the ratfolk had first infiltrated into this house, and where the ratfolk priest in tattered robes had looked to flee. But the City Watch members, with Kami’s aid, had blocked that hole into the underground warrens. The priest must have, box in hand, snuck down to the basement to return to her warrens. Thwarted, had she decided to pursue the ritual there? Or perhaps she’d touched the mummified hand, somehow activating it?

They reached the bottom of the stairs. Kami realized with finality that she would never truly know the answers to her questions.

Whatever had happened before, the basement was now filled with horror.

Next: Issue 5 reflections!