Step. Step. Half-step, turn. Repeat ad infinitum.

It wasn't all that much, but here in the close confines of their shared cell, the constant movement was driving Astrid crazy. She knew Elodie wasn't doing it to annoy her on purpose. This was just how her brain was Etched, never able to sit still for more than a few minutes at a time, and she only had the narrow corridor between their cots to move around in. In perfectly spaced steps, which Astrid knew because Elodie always landed on the same clay tiles each and every pass, including the one tile in the entire cell that had come loose made just the tiniest bit of noise. Never the same sound either, and that was most certainly on purpose, because that infinitesimal smidge of variation was enough to keep Elodie entertained while also driving Astrid up the hexing wall.

To make matters worse, Howie and Harald were riding high playing games of blind chess in the next cell over. It reminded Astrid of all those years ago when Howie's daddy brought him to the village for the very first time. Harald and Howie recognized one another and became fast friends, but Astrid didn't really remember him, as she'd been too young to remember much of anything from their brief time in New Hope. Nothing besides the fear and indifference when they were chased out of town, so she had no good memories of people from there. That's why she didn't join in on their games and just sat off to the side, watching Harald teach Howie how to play chess after he got tired of running around on his own and came to bother the only kid close to his age.

They never really talked, but they played on and off for about six years until Howie's daddy passed away. Now four years later, they slipped back into their old friendship like it never broke off, calling out their moves in a back-and-forth manner with little to no time to think. Howie sucked at chess, or at least he did to start with. Kept forgetting where everyone's pieces were and making dumb moves that let Harald work around him to win in less than 20 moves start to finish. Once he dusted off the cobwebs though, Howie improved at a fair clip as he pushed Harald into making trades and capitalizing on any mistakes to extend the game out. Howie still lost in the end, because Harald was really, really good at chess, but Howie's frankly flawed playstyle was the perfect counter to Harald's methodical approach, as it forced him to think on his feet which wasn't his strong suit.

And was exactly what he needed to get his mind off of killing those men. Astrid too, as she listened along and critiqued their moves in her head. She wasn't sure if Howie did it on purpose, but he was the one who started the game, and she figured he knew what he was doing. Made her grateful, but also a little green with envy, as this was another example of how he was kind and thoughtful to everyone besides her. If they were in a cell together, she doubted he'd talk about Etches and Scripting much, as he never seemed to have much to say about it besides, 'What's the book say?'. Like he couldn't be bothered to engage, or more likely, he didn't want to talk to her.

Sure, he'd talk to her when he didn't have any other choice, but lately, she noticed that as soon as there was someone else in the room, he'd rather chat with them. Even Daddy and Mama, talking about boring stuff they read in the papers like expected crop yields, steel production numbers, elected officials in other towns, and all that other adult stuff. Weirdo.

That thought right there was all it took to push her over the tipping point, but she couldn't lash out at Howie in the next cell over. Nor could she really lash out at Elodie, who was so sweet and kind, so Astrid closed her eyes, took deep breaths, and counted backwards from ten before opening her eyes and addressing the other girl. "Elodie," she began, and almost jumped from her seat on the cot when the other girl got right up in her face to hear what she had to say. Again, Elodie didn't mean anything by it, but her concept of personal space was nonexistent, so Astrid backed away as much as she could without looking scared and asked, "How about you take a break from pacing?"

"I do not need a break," Elodie declared, her goofy little smile in full effect. "I am not tired."

But Astrid was, tired of watch her go back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. So she tried a different tack and asked, "Want to play a game? I can teach you how to play chess like Howie and Harald."

"Non," Elodie replied. "Papa, he teach me already, but I do not like chess. It is too, um, how you say… too strange. The pieces, they only move in the one way, except the queen which moves in too many ways. And why does the horse move in L shapes? Horsies do not do that. It is a very silly game."

All the while, Elodie took the conversation as an invitation to slide onto the bed, slip under Astrid's chains, and sink into her arms. This was much too close for comfort, and Elodie knew it, but she did it slowly and surely in steps. First, her head came to rest on Astrid's shoulder, then her body sank in against her to press her down, and finally, her strong arms wrapped around Astrid's waist with the hard chain slipping into the few crevices between them. It was so very strange, like she was being treated like a scared pony who wasn't sure if she wanted to be pet, and she most certainly didn't. Elodie wasn't taking no for an answer though, rattling on about how she didn't like chess while shifting about until she was laid out on her side while Astrid sat against the back wall.

"I am very hungry," Elodie declared, switching tack without warning. "I did not get to eat my burritos. I did not even get to see them. Did they look yummy?"

To hear her say it, it almost sounded like she was grieving her lost lunch which was sitting in a basket next to Chrissy in the waiting area. For the first time ever, there was a note of melancholy in Elodie's otherwise cheery demeanour, and it struck a chord in Astrid's heart. Maybe the burrito was just an excuse, because Elodie clearly wanted to be hugged and comforted, so Astrid patted the other girl's hair and stroked her back while saying, "Umm… Yeah. It looked yummy."

"How yummy?"

"Very yummy. Uh… the meat looked… moist and tender. The veggies were crisp. The mushrooms were…" Mushrooms, and therefore disgusting, but Elodie loved them, so Astrid could only say, "Mushroomy?"

"Those are the best mushrooms," Elodie murmured, heaving a big sigh and burying her head into Astrid's neck before taking a deep breath. Which tickled and was much too close for comfort, but she swallowed her complaints and kept patting the other girl's back. This couldn't have been easy for her either, because she killed a man too, and for all her declarations of how they were all bad men, Elodie wasn't a cold-blooded killer like Howie.

Ice cold at that, but at least Astrid understood why. The few newspaper articles she'd read painted him like some psychotic killer, but all he did was kill some outlaws who most certainly deserved it. He also killed some people defending those outlaws, who were almost certainly criminals themselves, but the papers made it out like he was shooting up hardworking town folk just going about their day. Between demonizing him for doing what law enforcement should have done, and how the Feds disavowed his daddy after he passed, why wouldn't Howie have a rigid us versus them mentality? It did sometimes feel like everyone was out to get him, or at least a vocal percentage was, while everyone else just stood to the side and let it happen.

The same way those 'good' people just watched while crazed fundies brought out torches and pitchforks to run their family out of town for looking like the Devil. Other people could condemn those actions all they wanted, but it was hard to think of them as being on your side when they stood around and let others do what they pleased. Harsh criticism and condemnations wouldn't do Astrid and her family any good after they'd already been lynched, so she learned early on that she couldn't count on the kindness of strangers to help her out in a pinch.

Howie learned the same lesson, except he was a lot more aggressive about looking out for himself and his family. To hear him say that Harald had saved him the effort of going after those thugs himself was a chilling reminder of how Howie saw things. Not good and evil, but him against the world, which wasn't wrong, but did mean bad things for anyone who wasn't on his team or at the very least strictly neutral.

And while Astrid didn't entirely agree with that kind of outlook, she couldn't fault him for it either. He was absolutely right about how this wasn't about right and wrong, because if it was, the Sheriff never would have arrested them. Those men were known criminals, albeit ones that hadn't been convicted in court, but surely the Sheriff of Ashbend would know they were up to no good. Had seen as much by now too, considering Howie's hat recorded the whole thing, and yet hours had gone by and they were all still sitting in a jailcell with no relief in sight. To make matters worse, their toilet was just sitting there in the open between their two cots, and there was no way Astrid was gonna drop trou and tinkle right in front of the entire office.

The grim reminder made her bladder feel fuller than ever, and she shifted from underneath Elodie so the other woman wasn't pressing down on it. Fearing she was trying to slip away, the silly girl held on even tighter and even uttered a soft whimper that broke Astrid's heart to hear, so she hugged her close and whispered, "It's gonna be okay, Elodie. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I know this," she replied, with a big, dramatic sigh. "He was a bad man and he call Elodie doe, but Elodie is not doe. Elodie is filly, chick, kit, pup, cub, and girl, but not doe." So that's why she was so angry? Because he called her the wrong name, and not even a mean one? Face buried in Astrid's shoulder, Elodie heaved another sigh and grumbled, "And now I cannot eat my burrito, which is so very fun to say. I am so very hungry, but they say they will not feed us until dinner time many hours from now."

For a second, Astrid was thinking it couldn't be that simple, that this couldn't be about filling her belly and most certainly had to do with the killing or the jail cell. Then she remembered who she was talking to, and figured there was no reason not to tackle the problem right in front of her to see if that helped. Luckily, her skitterbot was sitting on standby next to Chrissy's foot in the waiting room. The deputies hadn't taken it into evidence since it didn't have any bearing on the case, and instead treated it like the animals and left it be. Reaching out with her Spirit, Astrid connected to the skitterbot and ran the Script to boot it up. It was like Conjuring up a Mage Hand, except there was no tactile feedback with the skitterbot, nothing besides a sort of tension to let her know they were connected. Like a kite on the end of a string, you could close your eyes and sort of feel how things were going, whether it was flying high or crashing down low and whatnot.

With time and practice, she'd get better at sensing what the skitterbot was up to, but for now, she mostly relied on looking at it from across the room. Which made her next task difficult, as she needed the Automaton to crawl up onto the chair, open up the basket, grab a burrito or two, fix it onto the skitterbot's back, and bring it across the office and into the cell without being spotted. All of which was easier said than done, but at least now she had something to do besides listen to Howie and Harald play chess while struggling to make sense of Howie's tactics.

The way he explained it, Danny's skitterbots moved like they had a mind of their own, but a few minutes of actually piloting the skitterbot was enough to convince Astrid that the red-headed Artificer was a genius. Forget having three skitterbots running around on counters, walls, and even ceilings while helping her Etch and do Alchemy. Those took too much focus, meaning she had little to nothing to spare to control the skitterbot, which currently took up most of her attention to get moving. It didn't seem like much on paper, but there were a lot of steps to get through and she wasn't really used to it yet. Not to mention how she was still learning how her Invocations worked, as she'd mostly just copied them verbatim from the books. While reading along, they mostly made sense, but when it came time to doing almost anything at all besides the basics, she was left floundering with no idea how to really work it.

It wasn't intuitive like using a Mage Hand. That was just like having a third hand, a weaker, clumsier one that you had to teach how to work again, but at least you had that foundation there. You knew how it was supposed to feel to work a hand, so all you had to do was replicate that. With the skitterbot, it wasn't just the fact that it wasn't a hand that made it difficult. The means of control was completely different too, with the user feeding Invocations to the skitterbot to tell it what to do instead of just thinking it. You needed a command to stand it up, then another to have it shuffle forward a few inches, then a third to turn around and a fourth to angle itself in preparation to jump onto the chair. Getting it to jump wasn't easy either, as she had to run multiple secondary Invocations to get the skitterbot to gauge distance using a Rangefinder so it'd know how much force to put into its legs, values she'd precompiled in a table for her Automaton to reference inside of her Grimoire Script so it'd know how much power to put into its legs depending on the height and distance.

All in all? Rather than moving a hand, piloting her skitterbot was more like controlling a puppet by turning gears and pushing levers that would do certain, very specific things with no regard for nuance or changing variables.

So it wasn't easy, and she was still getting the hang of things, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. That's what she loved about Alchemy though, how you could make the same potion in so very many different ways, with a minor tweak here or a subtle change there giving you a completely different result. Sometimes, you didn't change a thing in what you did and you still got something different for reasons that you could eventually narrow down, like ambient temperature, air flow, moon phases, and more. There was just so much to learn and understand, like putting together a puzzle that never ended and sometimes changed so you had to rearrange the pieces you already had to make it fit once again.

And controlling a skitterbot was just like that, only harder because she didn't have anyone to help her along. Well, she had Howie, who showed her a lot of the basics, but he stopped trying when he grew tired of her company or something. Jerk.

It took seven failed jumps before her skitterbot finally made it up onto the chair, and Astrid resolved to install some grippy feet onto her Automaton as soon as she could make or buy some. That's how Danny's skitterbots were able to run around on the walls and ceilings without causing damage, but Astrid figured she could just keep hers on the table or ground. No more, because navigating the world as an eight-inch tall skitterbot was a whole lot harder than she'd thought it'd be. Especially now that she had it on the chair and didn't know how to open the basket and secure the burritos. While she'd already Scripted the Invocations that she'd need to do delicate work like that, she'd only copied them down without knowing how they worked, so she was still figuring it all out.

And not all that quickly or effectively as she threw out Invocations and watched her skitterbot poke, prod, smack, and otherwise abuse the basket instead of opening it up like she wanted. Didn't matter what Invocation or combination of Invocations she threw at the skitterbot, she just couldn't get it to use its front limbs the way she wanted it to. Just as she was about to give up though, Chrissy reached over to open up the basket, then tilted her head and stared at the skitterbot like she wanted to see what it would do next.

Wasn't sure if Chrissy understood it was a machine, because to Astrid's eyes, the Automaton glowed a lot like how a Magical Beast would, only in a much more complex and intricate fashion. With Cowie and Frowny, all you really saw was a general flow of Aether moving just under the surface of their skin, a system so very similar to their blood vessels but not a part of them. Astrid had the same glow that anyone could see, but she bled red the same as everyone else. No, that golden glow was the Aether moving through her body, the way it moved through everyone's bodies albeit at differing degrees.

So it could be that Chrissy thought the skitterbot was just a new animal companion, one without fur, a face, or a pulse. It was adorable really, especially when Chrissy gave the skitterbot the lightest little tap to see what it would do. Nothing, because Astrid hadn't scripted autonomous reactions into her Automaton, nothing besides a stabilizing feature that would help it stay upright when pushed.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Maybe this could work though, because now Astrid only needed to tell Chrissy to put the burrito on the skitterbot's back and maybe tie it in place with a handkerchief or something. How though? How could she communicate with Chrissy without alerting the deputies on duty? Then there was the fact that even if Astrid shouted it all out, there was a good chance Chrissy would just ignore her or fail to process any instructions. If only they could use Arcane Sign Language to pass a message along, then that'd make this so much easier, but the anti-magic manacles wouldn't let you use so much as a cantrip.

It was a fascinating bit of thaumaturgy, anti-magic manacles. Or at least they would be if she was wasn't stuck wearing them. They didn't inhibit the natural flow of Aether, but any time Astrid tried to push Aether through her Spell Structures to affect the material world, all of it went right into the cold steel manacles and drained out into the air without any effect whatsoever. It didn't work in reverse, or at least that's what she read, meaning that if someone not wearing the manacles were to cast a Spell like Shatter on them, then it would most certainly take effect. Wasn't sure how that worked, but it was an interesting concept that she'd like to study further so long as she wasn't wearing them.

As for her current burrito conundrum, Astrid had a flash of inspiration that might change everything. See, Chrissy didn't have any hearing problems. The only reason they used Arcane Sign Language to communicate was so they could hold her attention with the Aetheric flows. There was more to it of course, as Howie's explanation left a lot to be desired and she got the feeling he didn't understand the reasoning either. Something to do with associating a specific Aetheric weave with a word or concept to give her a new way of interacting with the people around her. Which made perfect sense of course, but while Astrid couldn't cast any Cantrips at the moment, she was already holding Chrissy's attention with the skitterbot. More to the point, the sweet girl understood body language a whole lot better than words, and since she already thought of the Automaton as an animal, then Astrid just had to mimic body language and play charades until Chrissy understood enough to help out.

Worst comes to worst, Chrissy would try to bring them the burritos over herself and get told to sit down, so might as well give it a try. First, she had the skitterbot reach into the basket and tap two burritos before tapping its back. Then she had it 'look' at Chrissy using the tiny optical rangefinder which could pass for an eye before repeating the whole thing. Then she did it again. And again. And one more time, but still Chrissy just watched. She did tilt her head the other way, but otherwise, she didn't do a thing. So Astrid added a bit more context, tapping the burritos then pointing over at the cells, before 'tip-toeing' around like it was trying to be sneaky. Then she moved the front legs in a gathering motion like it was shovelling food into its 'mouth' before settling back on its haunches to pat its belly.

All movements that had been covered in the systems check Invocation she copied straight out of the textbook, so it wasn't all that difficult to pull off. It was also much more fun than Astrid ever expected, and she wasn't even upset that Chrissy wasn't following along. Or maybe she was, because the silver-haired girl was undoing the purple hair ribbons that Howie had tied so prettily this morning. Once Chrissy had them both in hand, she turned to one side so Astrid couldn't see what was going on. Nor could the deputy on desk duty, who was leaning back in his chair with his boots on the desk and hat over his face, but better safe than sorry. When Chrissy turned around again, the skitterbot had two burritos tied snugly in place, and Astrid made it do a little wiggle like it was happy as a can be. Got her a round of quiet applause from Chrissy as it readied to jump down, only for her to pick it up and place it back into the centre of the seat.

Astrid almost groaned in frustration, thinking she'd have to trick Chrissy into letting the skitterbot go free, but it turns out she was the one who was mistaken. The flows of Aether twisted in and around Chrissy as she reached down to tap the skitterbot on the 'nose', only for it to disappear before Astrid's eyes as those flows wove together into an Invisible net to conceal it from sight. Now that was impressive, because Chrissy didn't just understand the assignment, she improved upon it too. That was huge progress from the typical empty-headed vibe she usually gave off, and Astrid had to wonder just how much Chrissy was taking in from the world around her.

More than expected, that much was sure, but Astrid still had two burritos to deliver. Which again, was easier said than done, because now she had to navigate an Invisible skitterbot across the office floor without bumping into anything or anyone. At least she had that 'tension' which let her know where the skitterbot was, so even if she couldn't see it, she had a general idea of where it was at all times. From there, it was just a matter of slowly but surely making its way over to cells while sticking as close to the walls as possible to avoid being heard, as it wasn't exactly the quietest skitterbot around. The mechanical clicks and clacks sounded like thunder to Astrid's ears, but that's only because she was listening for them. Elodie didn't hear it until it was almost at the cell, sitting up and cocking her ear to try and identify the sound before giving the air a sniff.

"Astrid – ," Elodie began, her eyes going wide and arms clutching tight before Astrid shushed her and waved her aside. Serious as the grave, the green-haired girl sprang up with next to no effort before taking a seat on her own cot, stuffing her hands under her thighs and tapping her feet in muted excitement while watching with bated breath. With nothing else for it, Astrid approached the bars and looked out to the left and right as far as she could before crouching down and directing the skitterbot to approach the bars as slowly as possible. Even then, it still ran into a bar and made a bit of a noise, but she quickly brought it in, burritos and all before retreating back to her bed, where she stuffed it under her covers and took a seat to look all calm and casual. She had to wave Elodie off too, just in case someone noticed and came by to check, so they just sat there for long minutes and waited.

It was a thrilling few minutes though, a harrowing, heart pounding adventure on the wrong side of the law. Sure, she was only smuggling burritos into her jail cell, but it was exhilarating to be sure, far more fun than sitting in her lab churning out potions one after the other all the livelong day. She enjoyed Alchemy and learning and improving, but that wasn't all she wanted to do, and this stint in jail showed her just how exciting the real world could be.

"What's this then?" Just as she was about to wave Elodie over, a deputy stepped around the corner to lean against their cell. Astrid almost jumped out of her skin to see it, and the older man grinned like it was some big joke. He had that boring dad haircut, short on all sides and swept to the right to hide the thinning up top. Old enough to have threads of silver showing amidst the tangle of brown, and also in his standard deputy moustache that was all upper lip with a bit hanging off of each side over top a clean-shaven chin. His appearance wasn't what creeped her out though. It was the intense look in his eyes as he posed and stared, followed by the lick of his lips as he continued, "You two get tired of cuddling up with another woman? Well, might be I got just what you Aberrants in heat need."

Ick. Astrid hated the leering, but more than that, she hated being so exposed in front of a stranger. They'd taken her scarf and robe, leaving her with only a loose, long-sleeved shirt that was much too thin and clung all too well, as well as a pair of snug but comfortable slacks. Wasn't like she was here in a form-fitting buckskin dress like Elodie, with her most her arms bared and a generous neckline that was there more so it was easier to undress as opposed to showing off her skin, but it did both just fine. Nor were they dressed like some of the girls in New Hope that had their pictures in the paper, with shirts and skirts so short their mid-drifts and calves were on full display. Even then, Astrid felt almost naked as the deputy looked her up and down with undisguised hunger and flashed a smile that wasn't a smile. "A little green and a lot of red, like Christmas come early," he said, and Astrid's skin crawled to hear it. "How about you come take a seat on Santa's lap?"

"Hey, shitbag." Howie's arms appeared, sticking out of from his cell as he leaned against the bars. "They're minors and you're old enough to fart dust, so how 'bout you fuck off and be creepy somewhere out of sight."

Though she couldn't see Howie, Astrid watched the deputy's eyes go hard and cold as he glared at the Firstborn in the next cell. "You best watch your tongue, boy," he growled, hand going down to his billy club like he was ready to use it. It was a short weapon made of wood or maybe lead wrapped in thick leather, one meant to stop someone without killing them, but it could still break bones. "Hate to see you take a spill while we transfer you for questioning. These halls be plenty slippery, so I wouldn't be surprised if you fell once or thrice."

Howie wasn't scared though, and Astrid could almost hear the smile in his tone. "You best call for back up then, because you gonna need the help. Three more at least, and make sure they got the stones to hold on tight else you might be the one who slips. I seen you earlier when you was bringin' Elodie in, clingin' to her wrist with two fingers and ready to piss yourself if she so much as sneezed. That's what this about, ain't it? Provin' to yourself you wasn't scared. Well you wasn't. You was straight up petrified. Shakin' in your boots and tremblin' like a leaf because you a craven, yellow-bellied bully who ain't ever done shit besides punch down since you don't got the balls to do anything else."

Howie wasn't even trying to be quiet, and he'd woken the other deputy at the front desk. Which might well have been his goal, hoping the other deputy would rein this one in, but all the other deputy did was ask, "He giving you lip, Eugene? We can tune him up and blame the devil-boy. Birds of a feather them two, the Yellow Devil and a Devil-kin. Lord have mercy on us all."

"Nah," Eugene replied, but not before Astrid saw the flash of fear in his eyes. "He won't learn nothing from a beatin'. Not him." Turning his creepy grin towards the waiting room, he said, "Might be that the Aberrant girlie out front gets upset and starts making a fuss. Things get out of hand and we gotta arrest her. Bring her to the back room and give her a… thorough search, you know?"

"Chrissy," Howie began, and the silver-haired girl cocked her head to listen. "You sit tight, but if either of these men even so much as try to touch you, then you hit 'em with a big Spell and kill 'em both."

"Okay Howie." There was no hesitation from Chrissy, no emotion at all really, but the look she gave both deputies was unlike anything Astrid had seen from the girl before. It was focused, directed, and intense, a glare full of caution and warning both. A stare Astrid would have said Chrissy couldn't give, but clearly could. Even glowed with Aether as she Readied her Spell with a simple clench of her fists, and Astrid's heart skipped a beat to see the powerful flows surging around her. The deputies couldn't see it, but they might be able to feel it, that chill of dormant power lying in wait at Chrissy's fingertips, and neither one moved a hair.

"Tell me somethin', Eugene. You got family?" Drawing their attention back to him, Howie spoke in calm, even tones, but the barely constrained fury lurking underneath was evident to all. "A wife? Daughter? Nah, not with those looks, thank the Lord. Maybe a sister or mother back in the old world then. I want you to think about them, and what you would do if you caught some greasy, yellow-bellied, pedophile fuck with a marty pasted on his upper lip talking to your mama or sister the way you was talking to those girls there."

The deputy's lip curled to hear it, but Howie didn't give him room to speak. "Bet you'd be angry," he drawled, all conversational like as if he was talking about the weather. "Angry enough to do somethin' even. Might be you can't do nothin' right away, so you wait. You get his name, then use that to find out where he lives so you can pay him a visit while he sleeps. When you get there, might be you kick in the door and teach him a lesson. Drag him out of bed and beat him bloody until he a cryin' heap of broken bones and missin' teeth. Or maybe you don't care much for lessons. Maybe you the vengeful sort, so you light up a molly and toss it through his window instead, then stand at the door with rifle at the ready until someone comes runnin' out so you can put a Bolt through his chest and smile because you done just took out the trash."

You could hear a pin drop in the Sheriff's Office, and Astrid herself could hardly breathe as she listened to Howie threaten to kill a sworn officer of the law. Even the Deputy could hardly believe it, trembling where he stood as he asked, "You threatening me? That's a felony you know."

"I'm just talkin'," Howie replied, sounding more amused than concerned. "About what you might do to someone who talked to your womenfolk the way you done just did. That's all I can do here in this cell. Talk. Lucky for me, I ain't gonna be here long, and once I'm out, you can bet your bottom dollar I'll do more than talk. That there is a fact, Eu-gene."

Astrid couldn't see Howie, but whatever deputy Eugene saw scared him even more than Elodie did. He didn't say anything, and not for lack of trying. He opened and closed his mouth like a gaping fish more times than she could count, before walking away with a snarl. The deputy at the front desk left to join him, walking backwards away from Chrissy so as to keep an eye on her at all times. Whatever they were up to, Astrid couldn't see or hear them any longer, and soon enough, Howie went right back to playing chess with Harald, while still standing at the bars with his arms poking out.

God Howie was terrifying when he wanted to be. And so damn hot too. He'd always been the most interesting boy their age, but Astrid never really thought much of him until after he lost his hand. He'd always been a friend, but then she heard all the stories and she started noticing how cute and funny and cool he was, doing jobs for the Sheriff, fighting off Aberrations at Carter's, and saving Clayton's people after they'd been taken. Then Josie died, and he showed up all dark and furious looking like three miles of bad road, and Astrid was hooked. Not so much anymore, not until just now, and she couldn't understand why. She should be horrified that Howie would say such things, but then again, deputy Eugene was even worse, and the other deputy just smiled to hear it.

Howie was right. It wasn't about right or wrong. It was you against the world, a lesson Astrid should've learned a long time ago, and one she wouldn't soon forget.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Now you definitely ain't my lawyer."

Getting real sick of having to say it, but the man wearing Jordan Blake's face beams to hear it. "How could you tell?" he asks, his face melting away to reveal the handsome Watchman underneath as he takes his seat across the table as he puts his bug sweeping gear away. It's just the two of us this time, which should've been the first clue that something was up. "I stayed in character, gave no purposeful tells, and even took off my watch."

It's the smell. The Watchman lit up a cigarette or two before coming in, but the real Jordan Blake got that stench baked into his skin after a lifetime of chain smoking, one that overpowers the interrogation room whenever he's in it. He likes cigars too, as I done caught a whiff of it during our earlier meeting, but aside from a hint of cigarette smoke, the Watchman got a clean, sterile smell to him. One that sticks out in a world filled with folks who can't be bothered with the Deodorant Cantrip, much less good, old fashioned soap and hot water.

I don't say as much though, just give him a look that says I don't much appreciate having my time wasted. Pursing his lips in displeasure, he mumbles, "All work and no play makes Howie a dull boy." Reaching into his briefcase, he pulls out two crystals and a Major Illusion Artifact, one that would cost a pretty penny. Setting those aside, he brings out some papers too, and hands them over for me to read. "This is the paperwork Jordan drew up and intends to file to dispute your arrest. As soon as it's filed with the Sheriff, you will in all likelihood be released. The initial warrant for your arrest was obtained through alternative channels after all, and they won't want that coming to light in court."

"Okay," I say, giving the papers a cursory scan and gleaning next to nothing from it. "And?"

"Your friends however are not so fortunate," he continues, setting up the Major Illusion Artifact with the first crystal to project Elodie's perspective of the whole thing. "The recording shows nothing that could be used to exonerate them. Yes, they were being threatened, and yes, Harald was assaulted first, however, the fact that more than half the men were killed after they'd been downed bodes poorly for your friends. Whether charges are pressed is up to Sheriff Beauregard's discretion, or possibly the district attorney if it catches his interest. Which it might well. Innates are not looked fondly upon around these parts, especially ones that look like the biblical Enemy. If the Askefjords are charged, then Jordan expects a long and lengthy legal battle ahead."

And chances are they will be if Sheriff Beauregard hears about my exchange with Eugene out there. I probably shouldn't have said as much as I did, but he threatened Chrissy and that is unforgiveable. I wasn't making threats either. I fully intend to teach Eugene a lesson as soon as I'm out and figure a way to do it quick and quiet. Probably won't kill him, but I'd like to, because I know good and well this ain't the first time he's hidden behind that badge to do what he pleases.

Only thing worse than a bent lawman is a criminal one. It's one thing to abuse your power for your own benefit, and another altogether to use it to commit the very crimes you're supposed to guard against, and I ain't about to let him go free.

The Watchman stays silent until I'm done watching the crystal, even when I rewind and watch through it a few more times to make sure I didn't miss a thing. With Elodie facing Astrid, Harald, Gunnar, and Chrissy, the recording don't catch much of what Dakota Slim and his thugs were doing, and given what they're saying, it's a wonder the Sheriff is even considering charges. If it was me, I'd shake Harald's hand and call it a public service, but I suppose that's why I ain't ever gonna run for Sheriff.

"Okay," I say once more, pushing the Major Illusion Artifact aside so I can face the Watchman. "Still wondering why you're here in place of my actual lawyer."

"Because if he were here, he would be bound by the law to report what he sees on this other crystal." His smile never wavers one bit as he switches out the first crystal for the second, and this one is more or less the same. No, wait. It's not. When Elodie's head dips down, the scene shows Dakota Slim's arm wrapped around her neck and a gun in his other hand, things that weren't in the original. A couple words are different too, turning Dakota Slim's innuendo into a more direct threat, which combined with the weapon provides justification enough for any judge to throw out the charges.

"Before you ask," the Watchman says, as soon as I'm done watching, "This crystal is not for the Sheriff. We can convince him to drop the charges without it. The crystal is for the AICC if they should come a knocking."

"Won't it all fall apart if they verify the crystal?"

"Of course not." Almost looking offended I would ask, the Watchman explains, "If verified, they will see that this crystal is the original which was viewed however many times the Sheriff viewed the original currently in his possession." Seeing my confusion, he smiles and says, "Altering a recording already on a crystal is difficult, but embedding a full Illusion into a fresh crystal is much, much easier when I have the original to reference. Makes it more difficult to spot the telltale signs of manipulation, and so long as you match the serial numbers and watch history, then all that remains is to swap them out. While an expert might well find issues with the crystal, the chances of the AICC retaining one to inspect the crystal without a living victim to encourage them along are slim to none."

Makes sense, and I'm kinda upset I never thought about it. Half the difficulty of getting an Illusion right is in the shadows and lighting, which he can more or less copy off of the real thing. Still difficult to pull off, especially in such a short time frame, but easier than changing a recording without anyone noticing. Crafting an Illusion happens in the theatre of the mind, while editing on is more technical, so most Illusionist can't do it without some real know how and experience. Either way, the Watchman's pretty much got all the bases covered then. Put pressure on Sheriff Beauregard to get him to drop the charges, and if the AICC comes a knocking, they'll see that they have no case because it was justified self defense.

"Lemme guess," I drawl, leaning back in my chair with a sigh. "In return for all this, you want me to go to a certain location, pick up a certain package, and bring it back to you without runnin' afoul of the original owners or customs."

"I do so love working with someone who understands," the Watchman replies. "We will even do you the courtesy of shielding you from retaliation, as the party who hired Dakota Slim is most upset."

No talk of five grand however, because fixing this Charlie Foxtrot is payment enough. "All right," I say with a sigh, because there's no way I can turn down this deal. I ain't gonna let Elodie, Astrid, and Harald go down for handling a mess I got them in, nor will I let them sit in this jail for any longer than necessary, not with deputies like Eugene watching them. "I'm gonna need you to sweeten the pot just a tiny bit though." The Watchman's smile falters just a bit as he cocks his head in question. "I want a private meetin' with deputy Eugene before I leave," I say. "And a guarantee he won't talk if I let him walk. I could handle it myself, but if you got an in with Sheriff Beauregard already, then I figure it'd be easier if you did it."

And cleaner, because I'd have to kill the Deputy to keep his mouth shut.

"…so long as deputy Eugene survives this meeting, I see no harm in arranging a little soirée." Grinning like a marty that done caught himself a chitterrat, the Watchman pulls out the map of the Deadlands once more and says, "Now, on to business, shall we?"

Business with the mob. How did I get in this deep? I should've shot Revolvers Rossie the first time I saw him and washed my hands of all this. Even if it meant war with the Cattaneos, at least then I'd have four hand-crafted Kalthoff originals to show for it. That's what I get for being soft though, and goes to show I should always listen to my daddy. Being a good man is one thing, but mercy to your enemies is cruelty to yourself, and I been a cruel, cruel man of late.

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