Fever Blood

Chapter 59: The Body of Science

After a few tense minutes of furious heartbeats and fast breath, Skaria looked out from behind her masterful choice for concealment, a half-collapsed stack of burlap sacks. No one. She rose from her crouched position and jammed the pry bar back into the space between lid and crate.

After a few more sessions of prying, cursing, and general bemoaning that she hadn't joined Karik'ar when he was exercising, Skaria finally yanked the lid off. "Took you long enough," Karik'ar said, sitting up. "How did you get in? The sewers?" He climbed out and kept his voice low.

"Down the chimney," Skaria said, leading him out of the pantry.

Karik'ar's broad frame worked against them as he walked through the kitchen; every so often, he'd knock down a pot or pan which Skaria had to catch before it hit anything hard. Soon enough, Skaria had collected three whisks, a saucepan, two skillets, and a strainer before they made it out. "Sorry," Karik'ar said sheepishly.

"Just...keep quiet. I think there are a few guards," Skaria said. She moved towards the door, slowly pushing it open. Fortunately, it didn't squeak. 

They stepped out into a beautiful hallway, paneled with dark wood and adorned with portraits. Karik'ar paused, staring at one of the portraits. "He... he looks a bit odd," Karik'ar said. "I think he has some Kai'Draeni blood in him." 

"What makes you say that?" Skaria asked, staring at the portrait.

"His nose seems a bit too flat. Jaw a bit wide." The Kai'Draen paused. "Then again, it could just be the style."

"Can we use that?" Skaria asked. "Blackmail him?" She turned away from the grim-faced portrait and walked down the hall.

"Probably not. We're in Saefel Aedhin. If Lord Grestien was a Caeldari politician, that secret might be damaging, that he's not fully human. Here, no one will care." He turned towards Skaria. "Vivisecting people, infecting them with deadly diseases and deliberately not treating them so that he could record the results... that's not scandalous enough?"

"You know the type," Skaria said, opening up an antique cupboard, rifling through the stuff. "He's bound to have more than one secret."

"And you know this how?"

"The sons of these idiots would come down to Scelion. To 'become a man' so to speak. It's lawless enough, they figure." Skaria shoved the cupboard drawer shut and moved on, testing a doorknob. It opened. "Not locked. Huh."

"So, these noblemen sons?"

"Ah, yes," Skaria said. "Three of them wanted to have a turn with me. I told them to wait, led them to Jason's back room, you know, where he keeps the pots and cauldrons and pans. Lots of hard surfaces." She slipped into the room.

"Let me guess," Karik'ar said, stepping into the room with her. "Overwhelming force at unprecedented speed?" He fell silent as the two of them stared at the mazelike chamber before them. "What...are those?" he asked.

"Paintings of...eyes?" Skaria asked. Paintings, all framed, all clustered together, covered the walls of what looked like a maze. There was no space to see the wallpaper, and everything was dominated by eyes.  Blue eyes, old eyes, green eyes, young eyes. A few shelves stood, freestanding, not against any wall. And while they could only see a little, illuminated by the lantern Skaria had, it was more than enough.

"This... is by far the creepiest place I've broken into," Karik'ar said. There were dragon eyes, rendered in precise, surgical detail, every ripple and vein of the iris painted on, the slit pupil staring at them from the surface of the canvas. Tethyd eyes, with horizontal slits, stood next to it. Red Vesperati eyes joined human eyes and Kai'Draeni eyes and glowing Erinyan eyes. The last set were quite fascinating, seeing as somehow the artist gave the paint the illusion of a glow.