Lake Merrin

by Samuel Colbran

  “I know that for sure about Gunnar.” I laugh a little. Gunnar looks up and gives me a death glare. That makes me laugh even more!

  Stillwater laughs, very soft and light for someone her size; cute even. Shake it off! You have eyes only for Pela!

  I clarify, “Okay, so I just write everything that I did? I was prepared for a fight, and we definitely got one.”

  “That’s right, Lone. Just make sure that you are honest, clear, and to the point. Treat it like reporting on a vanguard of an enemy army.” That I can understand! “After you finish, I’ll have a look. Remember to mention your discovery of the pattern between the murders and burglaries too.”

  “Can do!” This should not take too long. I should probably leave out my drinking earlier that night. “Joan, can I ask, why are you doing this? I mean, the real reason, not just for duty.”

  “You are right, Lone, it isn't just for duty. Over the last five years, I have seen this once-proud institution become a corrupt and horrid place that doesn't serve the people, only the self-interests of those in charge. Since I was exiled down here, I have tried to do good, but each time I do it, someone slams me down again.

  “Zlata manipulated Commander Axel, and he is now in hospital suffering from something that she probably set up. Saul upstairs was an outstanding officer.” Sure he was! “He cared and was one of the best administrators that we had. The night patrols would never have been able to be cancelled without an explanation under his watch in the past.

  “I can do more good being out there—” She points to the door. Thank you, Stillwater, I know where outside is. “—than in here, locked away like a mushroom!”

  “Well, I can understand that. I would not leave such a cushy job, but I can understand. Joan, you should be proud! You saved the city.”

  I see her eyes starting to brim with tears. I awkwardly mumble, “Well, this report will not write itself. I will just spread out a bit over here …”

  I get up and move to another desk to give her some privacy. A gentle sob comes from Stillwater, and I do my best not to notice.

  Writing this report might be harder than the fight tonight. Going to kiss WayWocket later; I cannot even feel my cracked ribs anymore. Must have been a good painkiller. Most of those are so bloody expensive. Wish I had his potion a few weeks ago, then those beatings would have been easier to deal with.

  How long have I been writing this report? Feels like forever! But by that clock in the corner, only ten minutes. Why was I there? Pela guilted me into going; not the best reason to put down on paper. Because of some cock and bull story about being awesome and my team needing me? Yep, that works. I leave out the impressive part: not required, I think.

  Okay, the sequence of events. There as back-up. See guards drop. Three people go in, then Rejects, and then another two. See some lazy sniper. Go up and stop him from sniping my team, with the help of my knife. Slide down, approach the two following the Rejects. I think they had their weapons out. Took one out. ...

  This is so boring! After that we … blah, blah, blah … I defended myself from Malik, a known criminal boss. Unfortunately, I took his life. (Like Abyssus, I was hoping for that! But I cannot write that in the report!) And then mention some made-up pattern that feels like it was pulled out of Jara’s arse, and sign. Done!

  “Here you go, Joan. I hope this is satisfactory.” She looks it over.

  What are those other crazy ones doing? Gunnar is still writing, must be going for brownie points. And there is WayWocket, just finished with that corpse and now at his chemistry station mixing and pouring liquids. That looks interesting; might see what he is doing.

  “Okay, looks good, Lone. Leave it with me, and I’ll sign off on it and put it with the main report. Good work. Are you heading off now?” Stillwater asks.

  “No, I think I might head over to WayWocket’s station and see if I can give him some help and maybe learn something new.”

  Stillwater nods and goes back to writing. I wander over, and Gunnar glares at me. I click-point-wink! Shaking his head, he goes back to his report—did I spot a smile? Yeah right, this is Gunnar!

  There are so many different tubes and containers, with all the colours of the rainbow. What does WayWocket do here? I have never seen this sort of thing before. I stand still, watching him work in an oversized white coat and weird glasses with multiple lenses. I get tired of waiting for him to notice me. Cough, cough, still nothing.

  “Hey, WayWocket, what are you working on?” No response. Did not hear me, I guess. I raise my voice. “WayWocket, can I help with anything?”

  “Quiet down. Sensitive chemicals here. One little vibration from your voice and BOOM! On second thoughts, please yell at that solution over there.” Points to a flask with bubbling red liquid. “Maybe you can learn something. Wait here. If I need something, I will ask you.”

  Another side of WayWocket; so stern. I hope he was joking about yelling at that mixture.

  “I am working on the tooth that I found on the unidentified half-Elf.” I am taken aback. Most people don't see us as half-Elven, but the other parent’s half. “Yes, by your bewildered look, I know you are half-human, but that creature is not of Favinonian origin. The only other that seems to be similar is Zlata, and I doubt she'll let me into her mouth.”

  “Why is the mouth so fascinating, Way?”

  “Humph!” He jumps down off his stool and moves over to the half-Elven body. He pries open his mouth and points. “See?” Yep, that is a mouth! WayWocket looks at me and rolls his eyes. I can hear a chuckle from Gunnar in the background. “False tooth. Not like the one I have over there.” He grabs hold of a tooth on the bottom row and pulls it out. See something new every day. “This material is made from something, I don't know what, but I will find out. The other tooth I found—”

  He turns, squeaks a little, and runs over to a container that is nearly boiling over. “Lone, come here, hold this!” Gives me a glass beaker with a gummy residue in it. “Now, keep your hands steady. If a drop of this hits your skin, you might turn into goo!”

  Say what now? “Sorry, did you say turn into goo? No thanks—”

  “Quickly, careful, don't have much time!” He comes over and just starts pouring. Great. Why, to the infinite levels of the Abyssus, did I agree to this?

  Keep steady, breathe in and out.

  “Should stop breathing so heavy. The vapours might also turn you into goo.”

  Thanks so much, WayWocket, not easy doing this already. Hold steady and hold breath. Hurry and finish. “And done. You can put it down over there now. I spilt a couple of splashes on your hand ...”

  I look at my hand, and I can see three small dots of liquid. Do not freak out! There is a basin, just wash your hands and hope you do not turn into sludge.

  I mutter, “Why, by Jara’s bloody hammer, did you allow—” And I see blackness.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Journal Entry Two continued …

  Big lesson learnt that night: do—not—help—WayWocket! But it was not the last time I did, and I have the scars to prove it. Still, we are lucky to have such a genius with us. There are not many like our Way ...

  “—does is faint! How can we keep such a loser around here, boss?”

  With that pleasant attitude towards me, why should I wake up?

  “Gunnar, that’s enough. I understand you’ve had problems in the past with the Elven race but this man is not the one who abandoned you. He has saved many lives over the past couple of days—ours included! I don't expect you to like him, but give him the respect he has earned.”

  I cannot believe Stillwater is standing up for me again. I am glad I kept my eyes closed, or this might have turned the wrong way fast. Give a groan and slowly say, “What happened?”

  “Little drop, only small. Couldn't see the consequences of Dawn's fortitude.”

  Oh yes, I had that goo-maker liquid splashed on me. It was more WayWocket’s talking that made me freak out and hold my breath.


  “Should have warned sooner.” There he goes, weird little Gnome.

  Glad that I was not liquefied. “Sorry, Joan. I thought it would be fun to help WayWocket out. I guess I was mistaken in that thought.” She laughs at that. Still got it!

  “Yes, we should have warned you about helping our local mad alchemist.” Looks fondly over at WayWocket. What is that little crazy Gnome doing? Something for me to avoid. “Your report looks good. I did have to change a few things, mainly procedural stuff.”

  “I have been dying to ask … Where did you find WayWocket? He is very strange in a sense, but really smart. I think I only understand one in every five words that comes out of his mouth.”

  “Well, Way is an exceptional case. I found him during a raid, on an outlying farmstead. He was creating drugs for the gangs to sell. He was also an employee of the Journeyman pharmacist, Engineer Cyric. Of course, Cyric denies any wrongdoing and Way was caught in the lab with a huge stockpile of Dreamroot, Rage-tonic, Bliss, and a few others.”

  Our little WayWocket, a drug lord? No, no way! “Then how the heck did he join the Watch?”

  “You have the same look on your face as I did. I’ve been around people of that calibre, and even now, I could never see Way doing something that would hurt a lot of people. He wasn't going to survive in the hold, so I sponsored him so he could become a consultant. Zlata got wind of it, and snap, I was taken off the fast track and condemned to this dank dungeon. That is how ‘the Rejects’ was created.”

  “Does he still make drugs? I have seen him using some ...”

  “True, but whatever happened before I took him under my wing damaged something inside of him. He takes those drugs to make himself lucid. If he doesn't, he can't function or do anything useful. The only time you will see him sober is when we are out on patrol. He gives himself a tonic that rids him of all the drugs and causes him to go into remission. But that is for the public. I hate it when he takes it, but what are you going to do? Rules are rules.”

  Being an orphan, I can empathise with this lot. Finding a family is hard, and even if your family is weird, it is still your kin. “Well, I can see why he needs to be protected. Have you had anyone else join the Rejects?”

  “We've had a few over the years, but most either leave or kiss arse and move back upstairs.” Well, I can see that. If it wasn't a short-term post, I would have done the same thing. “These two have been the only ones who have gone the distance. They are my true comrades. Really, I see them more like family than subordinates.”

  “Sorry to interrupt this touching display, but here’s my report, boss. I have covered everything that happened this night, as well as the sources I used to find evidence on the said event.” Good old Gunnar, always the charmer. “So, what else do we need to do? Do you need me to sign off on your report?”

  Joan takes his report and looks over it. “Looks good. I’ll sign off on both your reports and then Way’s, once he finishes. Gunnar, Lone, here.” She hands over her report for us to sign. I grab it first and sign it. Giving Gunnar a smirk, I pass it to him. Grabs it off me with a glare, signs himself, and passes it back to Stillwater. “Good, and here is yours back with my signature. For now, let’s all rest down here. When Way is finished, we'll go hand it in together. That will rub Zlata up the wrong way!”

  “I cannot believe that only a couple of days ago, Zlata recruited me to break up the Rejects. Funny how things happen.”

  As I stop and look around, everyone is quiet and staring at me. Stillwater steps forward. My instincts tell me to run—stupid instincts. “What did you say?”

  “Um, well—” This is starting to feel weird. What did I say? “—um, Zlata assigned me to your squad for some reason.”

  “You said that she asked you to break us up! Is that true?”

  “No, that is not what I meant, Joan.”

  “So, what do you mean, Solo?” Stillwater is way too calm. “Are you and Zlata ‘working’ together?”

  “Well, there was that one time—” I stop myself, being funny is not going to help. “She was just going to use me, and I really was not listening.”

  “You are part of her plan?” Why do I feel like a trapped animal? “So, you were a part of this whole thing?”

  What is her fricking issue? “Yes, I—I mean no. She was going on about some plan, not sure what, I just agreed. It does not matter—”

  “Clarify it for us, Solo!” Stillwater is starting to get scary.

  Everyone steps forward; the exits are closing. Why is my brain screaming for me to run? They look a little angry at me, but we are a team now—aren’t we?

  “Okay, okay, let me explain. Zlata recognised me because of Malik and the Dock Boys—”

  Within a blink, Stillwater crosses the room. Now I am pinned to the wall; Stillwater's grip is like iron!

  Gunnar pulls his sickle out. “You want me to make him talk? It will be my pleasure!” I really do not like the gleam in his eye. “Wouldn't take too long to make him talk!”

  WayWocket brings over a few vials. He offers one to Gunnar. “Use this to stimulate your epicaricacy.”

  Say what?

  I must have a stupid look on my face because WayWocket clarifies, “It means finding pleasure in the hurt of others. When you are an ally of Zlata, little hero, you will feel the pain of a thousand cuts.”

  This is new. WayWocket, how many personalities do you have?

  I wish Stillwater would loosen her grip so I can explain! I choke out, “Hurmm—nrfft—ellelly!”

  Stillwater loosens her grip and growls, “What’d you say, traitor?”

  I resist, and she lets go. I rub my throat and cough to clear it so I can speak. “To the burning pits of the Abyssus with you all! I saved your lives tonight, and this is the thanks I get? I am not a traitor! I do not work for Malik or Zlata! Can a man not get a break?” They are taken aback by this. I do not walk out because if I do, I will be alone and vulnerable; with Dock Boys out for my blood and Zlata soon to follow.

  “This whole thing has been a case of mistaken identity. Zlata was waiting for some thug from the Boys. She has seen me around them, not as a gang member but a victim! She did not recognise me, but I was familiar enough that she thought I was part of the gang and in on her plan. I just let her keep assuming that was true so I could keep this job. I really, really need the money to pay my debts and rent somewhere safe to sleep at night.”

  They back off. Gunnar sheaths his sickle and WayWocket’s face, which was scary and wild, softens back into the dreamy pleasant expression he usually wears. He goes back to work like nothing happened! Stillwater does seem calmer, but I can tell that violence is just under the surface. I want to draw a weapon to defend myself, but I should hold off. I have seen how they fight.

  “I still don't understand how she could mistake you for a Dock Boy. Tell me in your own words what really happened and I’ll judge if you are telling the truth.”

  Thanks so much, Stillwater! Why not bring in an Inquisitor of the Blue while we are at it? They will find out the truth! “Well, a couple of days ago, I applied for a job at the Watch. I found it at the Hall, but I guess you knew that. After being informed that I was successful, I headed down here. That is when I met you for the first time, Joan.”

  She nods, motioning for me to continue.

  “Yeah, pull the other one, Truth-spawn!” This is perfect; Gunnar giving his two slips worth! “Why should we believe you? Only known you for a few days and you lie constantly—like telling us you went down to the warehouse to check out those leads!”

  Stillwater looks at him. “What are you talking about, Gunnar?”

  “Well, it’s like this, boss. You know that story he told you for being late?” She nods her head. “That's a load of balderdash! I know for a fact that he didn't step foot in the warehouse district until a few hours ago!”

  Before this gets out of hand, I should own up. “Gunnar is right, Joan. I did not check out those leads. I was late because I spent all night
trying to find a new place to live.” Gunnar scoffs. “That is the honest truth! I can understand you not believing me, but it is true. I found a cheap inn, but I could only afford to stay if I worked for him during the day and also at night as a bouncer in the tavern there. A fight started that night, and the owner lets me get badly beaten by one of the customers, in front of everyone, for sport. I could not stay there anymore, and I did not have any money left. I stayed up late begging someone I had met that night to let me sleep on their floor, so I got up late the next morning. I lied because I did not want you to know.”

  “Likely story, bloody lying she-bops! See, I told you time and time again that they are a waste of time, boss. Let’s just throw him out on his rear and—”

  “How many times do I have to say it to you, Gunnar? This person is not the one who betrayed you all those years ago. He is not the reason you were thrown on to the street. This pointless hatred of the half-race is beginning to grate on me. I remember a report coming out of Corbin's a few nights ago; a new bouncer was forced into a pit fight. Was that you, Lone?”

  I am taken aback by Stillwater's reprimand, but I nod vigorously—that was me.

  She tells Gunnar, “Yes, he lied, but I believe he is telling the truth now.” She turns back to me. “So, what did Zlata want you to do, Lone?”

  “I'm not a hundred percent sure, but it seems that she already knew about the Commander’s situation and that she would become the next commander too. She was talking about something with Malik; him doing something for her. Then she assigned me to the Rejects. I just nodded my head at all of it because I desperately needed a job, even if she is crazy.”

  Stillwater takes a moment. I can see the wheels turning in her head. Why does my life need to be so hard? What did I do to you, Trinity? You have my worship and respect—well, as much as I am willing to give. I hate that my God treats me like this. Yes, I should give more to the church, but I need to be paid first!