Chapter 16: Chapter 16: Plotting in the dark

Chapter 16: Plotting in the dark

Feneria and Prisila sat around a table, a tea set between them. They were both morose. Their older brother landing into prison was something neither of them had imagined.

"I found Morrel's contract the other day. The one he filled in himself, not the copy," Prisila spoke, and then sipped from her mint tea.

"Hand it over," her older sister commanded. Now, Feneria was wearing a dark blue cocktail dress. Not quite a mourner, not quite her usual self.

"Filarion won't like this," Prisila slid a stack of papers across the table. Feneria flipped through them, and saw the items listed in the order. Forbidden knives, outlawed after one war or the other. Poisons. Yet, would it be enough to get Morrel behind bars?

"If we do this, we might end up behind bars as well," Prisila continued. Her eyes were wide, when Feneria bared her teeth at the papers.

"He knew that we worked outside the law," Feneria snapped. "Didn't care, until he became a big shot hero."

"Feneria..." Prisila reached out to grab her sister's hand, but the elf woman pulled it away.

"Is it fair that only Filarion is behind bars, Prisi?" Feneria asked, and Prisila bowed her head.

"It is not. Still, you will trample on his sacrifice, if you expose us all," Prisila insisted. Feneria sneered at her.

"You seem to have forgotten, dear sister, that we have money and lawyers on our side," Feneria rose her head, so she was now staring at the door. Prisila gave a defeated sigh. "Still, I won't pull you under. This is something that I will do alone. Bring Morrel to justice, for what he did to Filarion, and pay for my own crimes."

Prisila blinked at her sister, who was standing up now.

"Are you going now?" Prisila's voice was urgent. She had many arguments against Feneria doing this, but they stuck in her throat. A big part of her wanted Johnny to get pulled down off his high horse and thrown into the mud.

"No way am I going to put this off," Feneria leaned over, and kissed her sister on the forehead. "Take care of Kaniel. If he flirts with anyone, tug at his ears."

Prisila nodded. Kaniel was a notorious flirt, but he would never cheat on Feneria. She was his greatest love.

"Will you be fine? What if they move you to the all women prison, rather than keep you in the village holding cells?" Prisila voiced her fears. She had heard horror stories about that place. They all had. Being an Elathana, every day that wasn't spend behind bars was a gift.

"Then I will show those hags that they shouldn't mess with a lady," Feneria gave her a dazzling smile, and then she was off. Prisila stood, and rushed after her.

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Feneria got a horse from the stables, and waved at her sister.

"It will be over soon," the older elf said, yet that didn't bring any calmness to Prisila. Her nerves were strained, her breath came in quick. As if she were sniffing the air, instead of breathing it in.

"Goodbye, sister," Prisila waved, and Feneria was gone.

The ride to the village gave Feneria time to think. All her life, she had done illegal things. First under her father's orders, then under Filarion's. Her job brought the most misfortune on those that her clients went after.

For, a poison could miss its mark. Some poisons could be survived. But a weapon, in a closed off room, or against a sleeping opponent? That was unlikely.

Still, she didn't feel the guilt that she knew she should have. What did that say about her? She urged the mare ever faster. The village walls came into view, and she got off the horse. The guardsman on duty sneered at her, and she sneered back.

Still, she was let in. Making a beeline for the sheriff's office, she held her head high. This was it then, the end of an era. They wouldn't be able to get back to the family business now that the rumors about it had blossomed into truths.

What were they going to do next, if the emperor took away their money? Their estate? Become adventurers? Filarion and Filion, maybe. Prisila could make a pretty coin pouch with potions. What was Feneria going to do? She could only tell good weapons apart from junk ones.

She was broken out of her musings, when she managed to get before the police station. For a long moment, the lady eyed it up and down.

What a decrepit building. Peeling paint, rotting wood. The end of many dreams and aspirations. There had never been a time, when Feneria had felt safe near this building. Even as a child, she knew that to an Elathana, this hovel might as well be a grave.

She bit her lower lip, and made a step forward. She climbed the first step, then the next. Her hand closed around the doorknob, and she twisted. It was still bright and early, yet it wasn't locked. Any chance for Feneria to get time to think things through flew out of the window.

She shook her head, and headed inside. The elf had to remind herself why she was going to do this. Who she was going to do this for?

Filarion was their pillar of support. Their protector. He was going to be saved, Feneria trusted in Prisila. But Johnny Morrel was going to rot away in prison. Feneria was going to make certain of it.

The sheriff, Rocco something, opened the door to his office as soon as he saw her. Feneria stepped inside the cluttered broom closet. In her cocktail dress, she was out of place here. She would be out of place even more in a cell and those ridiculous orange monstrosities with their stripes.

"I came to make a confession, and bring new evidence for the Elathana case," Feneria spoke, as respectful as if she were speaking to her father. May the Earth Mother let his soul rest.

"Well, let us see who you want pulled into the dirt with you, lady rat," the sheriff snarled, and Feneria took the seat opposite him.

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