Quoted By:
>Gift horse, maw
Just play it cool, Gil. This is not the weirdest thing that's happened to you, not by a long shot. Look Lucky in his eyes— goddamn, he <span class="mu-i">is</span> oblivious— look at him and give your insight. "Yeah," you say. "Well, I know she, uh..."
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Trying to explain what you know without setting off Lucky and Arledge's (evidently very delicate) murder sensors is a difficult prospect. You omit the ritual bit and the Richard bit and place heavy, heavy emphasis on none of this being her fault. Which is not strictly true, but you're not working with nuances, here. You also strongly emphasize that little bit after you tackled her: she said she knew what'd happened. Like she was watching the whole time. Meaning she's <span class="mu-i">not</span> some vacant shell, or knot of corruption, or whatever shit Arledge was going on about. She's still in there. So it makes zero sense to murder her, and—
Lucky and Arledge are both a little nonplussed, since nobody suggested murdering her, claims Arledge. Lucky was the one to first bring up purging the unnatural influence from her, claims Lucky. It's the right thing to do, claims Lucky. That's stupid, you don't respond, since <span class="mu-i">when</span> did he care about the right thing to do, this new version of events makes no sense, but instead you nod and nod and say you're just a little on edge from the whole thing. Which is true.
So you get down to brass tacks. The waterfall murder scene is related to you, as is the message on the wall, as is Lucky's security knowledge, and in exchange you add what you know of the reset: surroundings warp, ears ring, you're sucked back in and spat out somewhere else. Typical Type II stuff, which is how you're confidently able to say Lottie's deep under while sketching past the fact you haven't been affected at all. Lucky's face sets at the whole topic, but he points out that she was arrested on suspect of setting the fires, and she was found with heathenous paraphernalia. Ah, Arledge says. So that'd be 'deep under' as...
The three of you arrive at similar conclusions at once. A cultist, you say; a saboteur, Lucky says; one of <span class="mu-i">them,</span> Arledge says, and looks a long way up the shadow-dappled path. She'll be at the temple, he says.
Okay, you say, <span class="mu-i">when?</span>
And isn't that the question? He doesn't know. Maybe now. Maybe an hour from now, at dusk. Lucky wants to beeline for it, and you have to bribe him away with a proposal of finding some caz— caz? (Blank stare.) Cazeline? Uh... naptha? Thick liquid, smells bad, lights on fire really easy? That works. Not that he'd ever admit it, but you suspect Lucky just likes to light things on fire.
(1/2)
