The Lamia Hunt

Chapter Thirty-Four: Questions

23:14 20/12/1998

It was odd that Fidèle had brought the girl with him to England. In Theodore's experience, Lamiae abandoned humans at the drop of a hat, and Fidèle certainly didn't seem like he'd be any exception. There had to be a reason he'd done it, then... But what? There was nothing about the girl that seemed particularly special – hell, she wasn't even loyal enough to keep from betraying him as soon as someone asked, so it couldn't be... He didn't know what it couldn't be, but he knew it couldn't.
Worrying over the Lamia's reasoning aside, Theodore was glad he'd run into her; if she was telling the truth, she'd given him all the information he needed to find Fidèle – and, even if the monster wasn't there when he looked, it was still brilliant to think that she'd betrayed Fidèle like that. But then, he thought, what if she didn't betray him? What if... No, no, that didn't seem right; no matter what Fidèle was capable of, he doubted the girl would have done something like that – anyone who'd stayed this long with him couldn't have been particularly bright, and it was difficult to imagine that the girl would have tricked him. But then, if she had told the truth, why? It didn't make any sense; if she'd stayed with Fidèle this long, then why would she only choose to do something like this now, instead of earlier? Yes, there might not have been opportunity for her to alert the Praedatori, but there must have been plenty to leave; if she was willing to betray him, then why had she stayed – and not just stayed, but travelled to another country with him? By all accounts, it didn't make any sense, and it made Theodore more than a little uneasy.
Unease, however, was a feeling to which he was very much accustomed.
He was running now, his footfalls heavy and uneven; in the years since he had arrived in Port Lennings, he'd forgotten what it was like to run in full gear - any longer, and he wouldn't have been able to do it again. Even so, it gave him no comfort to be doing this now, rather than later; doing this now meant that Lucille was less prepared, and that... Well, he didn't want to think that now; it didn't make running any easier.
He couldn't believe that he'd let this happen.
Lucille had been taken, taken by a monster whose intentions were all too clear, and without any means of defending herself.

The left wall was bare so far, without a door in sight, and he was beginning to more seriously consider the possibility that the girl could have been lying. There was also the possibility that she'd said the wrong word in English, but that didn't change the fact that he couldn't see any doors.
However, as he was coming to the point of giving up, he noticed the door. It was at the end of the corridor, right at the point where the two walls met.
He picked up his pace, hoping that he wasn't too late.
The door was closed, but not locked, and he opened it slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible.
As it turned out, he needn't have bothered; Lucille lay alone in the centre of the room, curled in foetal position, but Fidèle was nowhere to be seen.
Even so, he entered cautiously, casting glances around the walls as he did; in a room as dark as this, it could have been perfectly easy for him to hide here, and Theodore wasn't going to be taken by surprise. Not this time. He knew he was in here; he had to be in here. That's what the French girl had said, and if she'd been telling the truth, then there was no way he could have left by now. If she wasn't, then... Well, it didn't matter, because he'd found Lucille. Fidèle could wait.
After a few moments of surveying the small and dusty room, he was relatively sure that the two of them were alone, and so his reserve was broken; breathless, he ran to the child's sleeping form, and touched her shoulder, hoping to God that she was alright. He could feel the coolness of her skin through her pyjamas, the stony cold of a statue. Please, let her be okay.
Slowly, she turned her head towards him, her movements jerking and her gaze dim, but movement still the same. Theodore felt his heart leap inside his chest. She was - maybe - going to be alright.
"Teddy." She smiled at him, softly, and her head rolled back to the ground.

#

By the time he'd taken her home and she'd had some food and was dressed in some warmer clothes, Lucille was well enough to talk.
They were sitting at the kitchen table, facing one another.
"Well," said Theodore. "Are you alright?"
She gulped, and looked away from him.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I-" Her voice tore, and he saw tears begin to form in her eyes.
"What's the matter?" He reached a hand over the table to comfort her, and she drew back, shaking her head whilst wiping her eyes on her sleeves.
"I – I lost it." She looked back at him, and began to cry again. "I lost the knife."
Despite himself, Theodore couldn't help but smile.
"Is that really what you were worried about?"
She nodded, still wiping her eyes.
"It was a special knife, and I lost it. I tried to get it back, but..."
"But?"
She took a ragged breath, before coughing.
"He didn't give it back."
"He?" So Fidèle had been there. The French girl had been telling the truth. But then why? It seemed... There was certainly something odd about it.
She nodded, her eyes wide and frightened.
"The man... He – he said he'd give it back if- if..." She began to cry again, and Theodore didn't stop her; he had to think. If Fidèle had been there, then why did he leave - how did he leave -before Theodore got there, and why was Lucille still alive, still breathing and human? 
By all accounts, it didn't make any sense.
Lucille continued,
"And he promised, so..." She paused, and, for the first time looking straight into his eyes, said, "So I told him."
"Told him what?" Oh god, what if she'd... No, it was probably nothing. Everything was nothing. She was safe now, and that was what mattered.
"I told him it was you that gave me the knife."
Theodore said nothing. It wasn't too bad - Fidèle probably would have figured it out without her telling him, but it meant that Lucille was in danger. Serious danger.
And she was going to have to be prepared.
"Come on," he said, standing up. "I've got to show you something, Lucille."