A Lesson in Aristocracy

XVIII - Detective

Quetsan shoved the door open, the moonlight casting his shadow onto the floor. He'd been in that house a few times. It didn't smell as much like alcohol as he remembered.

"Maybe he sobered up," Quetsan mused, pulling his gloves on as Pinqel slunk in behind him.

"This is exciting." Pinqel mumbled, picking up an empty bottle and examining it.

"Be careful. We're just looking for something to leverage him, and then we're out of here." Quetsan said as he closed the door.

"Yeah, yeah."

Quetsan dipped his head,  lurking towards the staircase. He opened the door, looking down into the dark basement,

He descended the stairs slowly, sniffing the air. Somehow, it smelled even less like alcohol down there. Strange. Quetsan gasped when he kicked something, watching the small plush bear bounce down the stairs.

"What..?"

Quetsan went the rest of the way downstairs, sniffing the air again. Seralfi didn't have noses like Lozenfi, but they could still pick things out. He jumped when he heard the creaking of a door, watching Hyarith leave the bathroom.

"Handler," Hyarith observed, walking over to a different door and leaning on it. "Where's the fish?"

"He's gone." Quetsan replied, causing Hyarith to frown.

"Gone where?"

"I told you I would help you, didn't I?"

The Lozenfi's face went pale.

"What did you do?"

Quetsan grabbed the hands that closed around his neck, yelping as he was slammed against the wall.

"Hyarith," he wheezed, "let me down, and I'll tell you."

"Xym..?"

Quetsan looked past Hyarith, at the child that was poking out of the door Hyarith had been guarding. Hyarith dropped him, rushing over to the child.

"Sh, Kit. If he tries to hurt you, I won't let him," he heard Hyarith whisper before pushing the kid back into hiding.

"What did Arden do to that kid?" Quetsan asked, rubbing his neck.

"What did you do to Arden?"

The two circled each other, both clearly tense. "I'm missing a date right now, Hyarith. If you go with my brother, he'll take you to Astaeli, and you and - what did you call him? Kit? You'll be safe. Arden won't be able to hurt you again."

"...I want to see him."

"In chains, I presume? Don't worry. We've got him in irons... maybe you'll get to see done to him what they did to you?"

Hyarith looked at him with what seemed to be disgust. Quetsan didn't understand why.

"I- I did it right, Hyarith. I finally did my job. Don't look at me like that."

"You're fucking sick. That's Arden's blood I smell on you."

Quetsan stepped back.

"Are you stupid? Hm? Are you? There's children's toys all over the place, and you think Arden was... I don't know, beating this kid?"

"I can't have," Quetsan mumbled.

"Couldn't have." Pinqel corrected, slinking down the stairs like a fox. His tail flicked behind him as he stood to his full height - his scrawniness only served to make him appear even taller. "Keep in your lane, Quetsan, and mistakes like this won't happen. I'm terribly sorry about the Arden situation - what's your name?"