We left the archive as the sun was sinking toward the horizon. Long shadows from the church spires crept over the city; only the pointed tower of the Academy of Natural Sciences was bathed in sunlight, rising far above every church in the city. This was technically a violation of the sacred decree forbidding any building to exceed the height of churches. But since the Academy belonged to the Church, this flagrant breach was conveniently overlooked. The air had grown noticeably cooler.
"I suppose you'll give me the doll now? I still need to take it to the Academy." I shivered; the temperature change was unexpectedly chilly.
In the carriage, the girl fixed her gaze upon me. Once again, she deigned not to answer. Her behavior had shifted strangely back in the archive; not a trace of her earlier hysteria or capriciousness remained. She seemed thoughtful, distracted, and thus deceptively calm.
"Inquisitor Tiffano, do you seriously believe you can handle this case alone?"
"Please, no more hysterics." I was utterly weary of her antics. "What do you want? What more must I do for you to surrender the evidence?"
"I'll give you the doll, don't worry. But admit it: you haven't noticed a significant peculiarity in this case, have you? And you certainly haven't considered the possible complications in the investigation?"
The girl shook her head doubtfully, regarding me as if I were a hopeless case. Arguing with her was pointless.
"No, I haven't. But I assume you're going to enlighten me?..."
"Perhaps. On one condition. I continue to participate in the investigation."
"Absolutely not." I decided it was time to stop indulging her. Better to make things clear from the outset. "The inquiry procedure is no concern of yours. If you wish to help, you may share your thoughts, but do not presume to set conditions."
"As you wish." The girl agreed with suspicious ease and deflated visibly. "Frankly, it makes little difference to me whether I deal with the witch with you or without you. At least I won't have you underfoot."
I choked on my indignation.
"Don't you dare! Do you hear me? Do not dare approach the suspect!"
The girl smirked insolently. "Can you forbid me from doing my job? In case you've forgotten, I was hired to find Cathérine. And while I'm certain the girl is dead, I need proof. Rest assured, I'll find it far sooner than you."
"The Holy Inquisition is now conducting the investigation into Cathérine's disappearance. You are forbidden to interfere. I am warning you officially."
"You do realize I couldn't care less about your prohibitions?" She raised an eyebrow, as if genuinely puzzled that I hadn't grasped this yet. "And unlike you, I'm not bound by countless procedures and ecclesiastical permissions. Tomorrow, I shall pay her a visit!"
"Listen to me. She could be dangerous. If our suspicions are correct, you would be in mortal peril." I tried to appeal to reason, though I knew it was futile. This addled creature would indeed go charging after the witch! "Very well. I'll permit you to participate in the inquiry, but on my terms..."
The girl nodded without waiting for me to finish.
"Are you aware that the burgomaster is hosting a grand society reception the day after tomorrow? Baroness Malko is certain to attend. She is the arbiter of local fashion, after all; she couldn't possibly miss such a momentous event. We must gain entry at any cost. There, we can pose uncomfortable questions without arousing suspicion, and afterwards..."
"I am invited to the reception..." I bit my tongue, realizing I had said too much, but it was too late. The girl's eyes kindled with such avarice that I shuddered. She slid to the floor, dropped to her knees, and clutched at me—painfully.
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"And you said nothing? You need a companion for the reception, surely? You absolutely must take me with you!" Her voice was hoarse with excitement. I could not fathom what fancy had seized her fevered mind this time. Why did she need to attend?
"No way! Are you crazy?" Realizing how absurd the question sounded, I faltered but pressed on. "It is utterly impossible for an inquisitor to appear in high society with someone like you! Just look at yourself—you behave worse than a... a port whore! Do not even hope..."
The girl pressed her palms together pleadingly and buried her face in my knees in an attitude of prayer:
"I shall behave impeccably, I promise, have no fear! I absolutely must get in there. And you will not regret it, I assure you. I'll do whatever you say..."
I placed my index finger against her forehead, pushing her away until she obediently resumed her seat, and peered into her dark grey eyes:
"Why are you so desperate to go? And do not lie that it's solely for baroness Malko's sake."
The girl compressed her lips in displeasure, made a grab for my hand, but I snatched it away swiftly.
"I won't deny I have other objectives. The entire cream of society will be there, which means I can elevate my business to an entirely new level, do you understand? Forge useful connections, acquire new clients... Do you have any idea what a baron might pay for evidence of his wife's infidelity?" She seemed almost to drool with greed.
"Enough! You were boasting of your connections only recently, and now..."
The girl interrupted me again:
"My clients are merchants, artisans, working folk. I've built my own network of informants, though they're from the lower orders—small fry. You probably haven't acquired your own familiars yet, have you? I could..."
"The Holy Consistory has cut funding for familiars..." Again I'd let something slip. I simply couldn't get accustomed to her manner! Inquisitors are feared; people don't dare meet their eyes in conversation. I wasn't used to being on guard, weighing every word.
"Well then, all the more reason you can always turn to me! Oh, please..."
The carriage stopped before the old church. I alighted, but the girl trailed after me, clinging to my sleeve, still pleading. She could tempt a saint to sin! I stopped short, freed my arm, seized her shoulder, and began:
"Very well. But you will cease pawing me, do you hear? That's the first condition. Never, under any circumstances, do you hear me?" I shook my finger threateningly before her face. "You will not touch me!"
"Even if you were drowning, I should stand on the shore and watch, not daring to offer you my hand?" The girl's face assumed an expression of the whole world sorrow.
"Second condition! Never, under any circumstances, will you interrupt me. Otherwise, I shall dissolve our agreement immediately!"
The girl nodded silently, now affecting of the whole world submission. She even lowered her head demurely.
"Third." I circled her, looking her up and down. "Don't even think of appearing at the reception dressed like that!" The girl raised her head indignantly, clearly about to object, but I forestalled her. "No décolletage!" I nodded at her dress.
"Button up at once!" She gritted her teeth, muttering something decidedly unflattering in my direction, but began fastening the buttons. "At the reception, you will wear the most modest, covered gown imaginable—again, no décolletage, no shocking looks, no garish makeup, outlandish hats, or any other impropriety!"
The girl raised her hand questioningly, mimicking a schoolboy in a lecture. I closed my eyes for calm, mentally invoked the Protector Timothy, then nodded. "Speak."
"I simply cannot wear a modest dress, don't you see? I must appear wealthy and luxurious—surely you understand—to attract new clients. But I promise, honestly and solemnly, that the gown will be the most covered imaginable! From neck to ankle, everything will be concealed by fabric!"
Why did I have a lurking suspicion that I was being shamelessly deceived?
"Bear in mind, if you deceive me, I shall send you packing without hesitation! And fourth. And do not make such a face. You will be quieter than water, lower than grass—no antics, no caprices, no hysterics. I also trust you will remember your manners and not disgrace me at table. And no interaction whatsoever with baroness Malko. I shall speak with her myself."
She raised her finger again.
"What now?"
"It is vitally important that I speak with the suspect. But I promise to do so only in your presence..."
"No." I was categorical. The girl pouted.
"Then I shall whisper questions in your ear for you to ask her... Though I fear that might appear somewhat strange, even improper..."
"Categorically no. If you wish, you may furnish me with questions in advance, and I may, perhaps, deem it appropriate to ask them..."
The girl pouted discontentedly and muttered her agreement. We approached the church, and I finally posed a question that had long been troubling me:
"Incidentally, why are you so certain the girl is dead? How do you know?"
The girl pouted even more and grumbled peevishly:
"Would you like the truth, or a prettier lie?"
I had nearly grown accustomed to her abominable manners, so I replied calmly:
"The truth, if you please. It is not advisable to lie to the Holy Inquisition. Why do you believe Cathérine is dead?"
"Because she is standing behind you."
I whirled around—behind me lay a narrow, half-empty street, where a few late-returning townsfolk hurried home from evening service.
"What sort of vile joke is this?"
"She follows you like a shadow. She's already beginning to rot and reek. And she howls—a low, keening note, like iron scraped across glass."
The girl lowered her gaze sorrowfully, then continued.
"Yes, no one sees her but me. That doesn't mean she's a figment of my imagination. All my visions, unfortunately, prove true. I'd rather not know most of what I see, let alone witness it. But if you don't believe me, think logically: where could Cathérine have gone? Climbed the high fence on her own and run off to the witch? Do you truly believe that? What conclusion remains? The witch performed the ritual on the spot, in the garden. What became of the girl's body, I don't know. The baroness could hardly have buried her by herself, nor could she have hidden her—I searched the entire garden. I didn't look in the house, but in this heat, with how quickly a corpse decomposes, they'd have found her by now. Most likely, the witch dissolves the bodies. There was a patch of damp earth beneath the bush where I found the doll..."
Nausea washed over me again.
"Enough! The witch could have befuddled the servants and simply led the girl out to a carriage." I seized upon this desperate thought, cutting off the girl as she tried to object. "Let's go inside the church."

