Chapter 9

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A half hour later, Lias, Kalis, and Messenger sat at the kitchen table facing sizzling fish and nursing freshly brewed tea. Messenger took a long, appreciative sip before speaking.

"Flash is produced at that refinery," he stated. Not a question, but Lias and Kalis still hesitated. "I'm not going to report you for knowing about it." Still they hesitated. "Or working in it."

Lias pressed his lips together. "Yes," he confirmed.

"Do you know of any other places?" Messenger asked, leaning forward.

"No, Lo- Messenger," Lias corrected himself.

"Mhm. How many work down there? Is it ever empty?"

"Fifty, sixty men, I'd wager," Lias said. "They work during the day so the leyta operation above covers the sound. It should be empty just a few hours after dark, if not earlier."

Messenger nodded. "Good," he murmured, half to himself.

"What are you going to do?" Lias asked.

"I plan to destroy it," Messenger said plainly.

Lias and Kalis glanced at each other. "We... there are plenty folk who need the work," Kalis said carefully. "We can't afford to be out of work. We've got three children, and we need to put food on the table for them."

Messenger shook his head. "I only intend to destroy the flash operation. That cannot continue. If I damage the refinery in the process, then... I apologize. But the flash cannot persist." In truth, he'd be more than glad to destroy the refinery as well, but Kalis was right. Too many depended on it for the money, not the drug.

"I see," Kalis said.

There was one thing Messenger was curious about. He'd assumed that Lias had been addicted to flash and had stolen some, thus leading to his punishment, but this wasn't an ill man.

"Why'd they take you?" Messenger asked.

"Hmm? Oh. I stole flash," Lias answered. As expected, but...

"For what cause? Not for yourself, surely."

"No," Lias agreed. "I... I have a brother. He got himself hooked on flash." He scoffed regretfully. "He couldn't get more. I've seen men die from the withdrawal. I didn't... I don't want my brother to go through that." He laughed ruefully. "Then I got caught."

"Did you at least get the flash to your brother?" Messenger asked.

Lias sighed. "For better or worse."

Messenger nodded. "There's just one more thing I'd like to discuss. But first, I need your word that you will treat this information with utmost care.

"We won't say a word of it," Kalis promised.

"That's not exactly what I meant. Let me explain." Messenger leaned forward and lowered his voice, prompting the others to do the same. "I am in the employ of the king, obviously, but I'm not exactly here to do his bidding..."

--

"...Do you understand?" Messenger finished.

Lias and Kalis nodded silently.

"I'd heard the rumors," Kalis admitted.

"Is that why you decided to talk to me?" Messenger asked.

"In part, yes," said Kalis.

"Then I suppose it's working, isn't it?" Messenger said.

"There's hope yet," Lias said lightly.

"There is indeed. I trust you will do your part, as well?" asked Messenger, tilting his head.

"You can trust us, Messenger," Lias confirmed. "The men you saved can help too. Even if we don't tell them everything you told us, they still know what you did. Saints, they think you died for them! Even better."

"Excellent." Messenger hesitated. "Did they all... make it?"

Lias sobered. "...No. Three died. But twenty-eight of thirty-one... I'm not the best at sums, but that sounds like good numbers to me."

Messenger didn't react. Twenty-eight. There was room for improvement there.

"I have to go," Messenger said. "There's still work to be done. Do you have my sword and dagger, by chance?" He stood, and so did Lias and Kalis. He drained the teacup. "Thanks for the tea," he added.

"No, thank you," Kalis said. "For everything."

"I'll get your blades," Lias offered. He disappeared for a moment then returned. "And perhaps you'd like some clothes?

Messenger looked down. Right. He was a bloody mess. "Ah... yes. Thank you."

Lias brought him some clothing, and he quickly changed, the garments hanging loose on his frame. He bid them farewell and left their tiny home. Outside, their children played in the street, Elai somewhat reluctantly, Melle and Yonah enthusiastically. His movement caught their eye, and his white mask glinted in his hand.

Elai's expression changed to one of incredulity and shock, eyes widening as he took in Messenger, up and walking before him. Yonah, understandably, didn't really react. Melle ran to him and wrapped her arms around halfway up his torso in a hug. Seems she hadn't been aware that he had been thought to be dead. He supposed, in a way, he really had been dead.

"Thanks for bringing Da back," she said, grinning.

"My pleasure," Messenger returned. He nodded toward the speechless Elai and waved to Yonah, leaving the Fisher family behind.

For now, the anonymity from Lias's clothes would be more than enough. He didn't need his conspicuous getup nor mask, which he hid under Lias's baggy shirt. After a few brief stops around the city, some of which honestly could have been made far simpler had he took the time to get back in his ridiculous getup, he had the supplies he needed: a sulfurous smoke bomb, several bottles of high proof liquors, lantern, and a flint striker. Night had fallen when he returned to the refinery, but Messenger waited another hour just to be sure. He finessed his way through the lock and made his way down to the staircase, where he stopped. He lit the smoke bomb with the flint and steel after a few unsuccessful strikes, then lobbed it down the stairs. Moments later, the smell hit him, of rotten eggs and other putrid things. If anyone were down there, they wouldn't be for long.

Messenger gave it a cautious additional hour before lighting his lantern and venturing down. He pulled Lias's shirt up over his face and breathed through his mouth, but his eyes still water from the smoke and the taste of the air. The staircase was the worst of it; again, the walls crept in on him, trying to force him into submission, but Messenger could relax when he got to the landing. Waving a hand in front of his face, he made his way through the basement, first through the offices and then through the main attraction, a wide, open floor like the one above, with barrels of ingredients and various apparatus for distilling and preparing flash. There was a table with a few packages of flash, which he hesitated at. Withdrawal could kill, and as much as he disliked the idea, flash could be useful for him in a bind. He pocketed what little he could find doused all the rest of the basement with the liquor. He'd said to Kalis and Lias that he'd try not to destroy the actual refinery, and he'd meant it; the stone should keep the fire from spreading up, though if it did... well, that would be too bad.

When the basement was well and truly drenched, Messenger found his way back to the stairs, making a trail of fuel as he went. He put a foot on the stairs and struck sparks onto the ground until it caught, flaring up instantly with blue and orange. A wave of heat blasted Messenger as he ran up the stairs and up into the open. Once at the top, Messenger turned and watched the flickering flames for a time before brushing himself off and heading out into the night.

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