Sao was seated in his office chair once again, dust settling, laptop open before him waiting for him to begin. It was hard. There were unanswered mails to attend to, unfinished assignments, and most painful of all, the question of the Fleming murders which had returned to square one.

Rai prepared his own salad as a late lunch - almost an early dinner, and Sao made the mistake of agreeing to have one as well. Neither of them felt like making another trek through the snow, and after the day’s events, the idea of Rai playing chef seemed like just the thing to raise his spirits.

His supervisor’s cooking prowess arrived in the form of some anemic greens and squashed cherry tomatoes, garnished with beans from a can. Soup du jour was coffee from the bottom of the pot.

“You can go pick up something up from downstairs if you’re still hungry,” Rai said.

“Thanks.” Sao picked at some lettuce. “And there’s no need. Not much appetite at the moment.” His traitorous stomach growled in protest.

“Self-punishment isn’t going to help us save the Flemings.” Rai was crunching, hard. With his cup raised as it was, the noise must have been coffee grinds. “Something funny?”

“No. My head’s just spinning. Did we get any sort of report on Carion’s death?”

“I’m suspended. Nobody’s going out of their way to send me any updates. Only way I’d get to see Carion’s body is by harassing Cad, but I don’t think he wants to hear from me right now.”

“Think the hospital will be able to see the kids’ bodies, eventually?”

“Art might agree to it now, as well as full autopsies and the rest, but I would need to do pull some sensitive strings to get us a look. We just have to wait.” The word ‘wait’ came out like a curse itself.

“How about the hospital courier records?”

“As bad as Axelle says. Medication drop-offs are accounted for, but little favors aren’t; by all accounts they aren’t even supposed to happen. Sometime before Chiro went to the garden, some delivery came through, but there’s no name, no record of it. It’s idiotic. The only person who’d know the details is Chiro himself.”

“Especially since there was no third stranger behind the bones and blood after all.” Sao rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Maybe Chiro did die of a heart attack, then. Slipped, scared himself, sudden arrhythmia - had an accident - and happened to kick into the container of ritual blood that was left out. Maybe the the sight of blood scared him enough to make his heart go out - it was a lot of blood. But I suppose the question still stands, what was he doing out there?”

“He went for a walk? Art kept Carion’s spell secret from her father and Chiro, Chiro might have kept some exercise regiment a secret from Art.”

“And could we apply the same to Kuro…?” Sao stopped. Questions were just making it evident how stranded they were. “I hope Art and Karik are alright.”

“No knife-wielding lunatic is going to get to them through the police presence. I don’t know about supernatural assaults, but they’re being watched, so they shouldn’t be randomly turning up dead, at very least. Unless Art escapes. But it looks like the fight went out of her after losing her father and husband.”

“Wouldn’t it?” Sao watched the sun taking its time setting below the row of buildings across from the office windows. “Should we really be so cavalier about her losing spirit? What happened to Carion is making even me think twice about heading out at night.”

“You’re fine.” Rai swallowed the grinds as if they were thumbtacks. “Who’d wanna disembowel you?”

“That’s a question for Carion too, isn’t it?”

“He had enemies. You don’t.” Rai slapped his fork down and shoved the plate aside. “I’m making some coffee.”

“Good. You look like you need a fresh pot. Remember, self-punishment doesn’t help...”

Rai glared at him with such venom that Sao ducked behind his computer and dutifully returned to his paperwork. Soon, the warm, earthen aroma of the kitchen began wafting through the apartment and Rai returned in a brighter mood, fueled by the smell alone.

“Imagine,” Rai said, landing in his chair and crossing his arms behind his head, “having so many enemies that you leave behind your family, and give up your own name.”

“It sounded like the brutality of his pig-killing family was what made Carion give up his name.”

“And he was given the choice to do so.”

“Seems like he became somewhat reverent of pigs. His house was full of them. Maybe he was a fan, growing up with them. Maybe it was an apology. He...” Sao recalled Umbre’s description of Red. “His choices weren’t frivolous.”

“But he was preoccupied with protecting himself when his family started dying off.” Rai shook his head. “Art, and the kids if you think about it, covered up his bones and the cuts and his history. By the time Kris was killed, they couldn’t go to the police for help.”

“I don’t think any of them knew what would happen. But it must have been killing him that they were hiding for his sake.” Sao bit his tongue. “It must have been hard.”

“Yup.”

Sao tried to continue his current assignment, but every word he typed felt like a misstep there, too.

The coffee machine began gurgling. Rai just about leaped out of his chair, landing halfway out the door. “Do you want any?”

“No, thank you.” He felt a craving for something, a familiar sensation, but it wasn’t for coffee. When he tipped back on his chair, resting his head on the wall behind him, there was a crackle. Sao lurched back upright, inspecting the wall for damage, but saw none. The crackle of settling plastic came again, from his coat pocket.

Sweet relief.

“What are you eating?” Rai asked the second he stepped back in.

“A snack, just something I had in my pocket. Sorry, only had one.” Luckily the lint hadn’t gotten through the twist in the wrapper. “You were talking about Carion.”

“I guess I was.”

“Tragic ending aside, by your words I’m starting to think he was somewhat enviable.”

“I don’t want to have to steal and kill pigs. What I like is how he changed life to fit his morals. No, I’m more envious that he is was given the chance. Seeing someone else's luck is always...” Rai trailed, stared ahead, over the monitors, over the printer, and past the buildings across the road. “Did you know: my dad was pretty rich. His whole side of the family is, the grandparents and great grandparents were in the movies. The name Kir.”

“You’re related to the Kirs?” Sao hadn’t given Rai’s whole name much thought before. “I never realized. That’s amazing. They’ve been in movies since the black-and-white era. The daughters, they’re still in the acting business, aren’t they?”

“My aunts aren’t exactly critical successes. My dad didn’t have much talent in that field either.”

“What did he get into?”

“Oh, he was in acting like the rest. Thought some called it monster fucking.”

There was a near-audible beat. Sao's ears throbbed at the silence. Then he laughed so hard his sides hurt, he wasn’t sure why. Rai’s stricken face told him that laughter hadn’t been expected, from Sao he expected better.

“It's not precisely that. He didn’t have the sense or discipline to actually get into legit adult films. And it was less acting and more a sick video diary. I’ll tell you about it someday. Are you done?”

“Yes.” Sao wiped tears and smeared his face, paste in his eye. “He - ouch - he sounds like an interesting man.”

“Maybe he was. He’s gone now. Crushed by a couple ton of snow and boulders before I was born. I never met him, and the family doesn’t associate with me or my mom anymore. But since they were married on paper, and Life Fountains don’t have surnames otherwise, we get to keep his name. It pisses the aunts off but most people don’t make the connection, because why would they?”

Rai sipped his coffee and Sao pondered. The Kir family were bronzed and swarthy, (even the women, and this only made them more attractive) all copper waves and forts of flawless teeth, though he had to wonder how much of the glamor was movie magic. Rai, by contrast, was a sort of sickly chicken-fat gray all over, and his eyes had an inflamed, almost infected look which wasn’t helped by his perpetual eyebags. Perhaps his strong lowered brows were adaptations from his famous lineage, though when you tried to analyze it, one frown was as unpleasant as another.

“You look like your mom,” Sao said.

“You’ve never met my mom.”

“Of course. I was just…” Sao wondered why he said it. “... assuming, because you don’t look like a romantic lead, like your grandparents.”

Rai shot him a menacing, momentary smile, which was really just a twitching lip that exposed his teeth for a half-second.

Sao bumbled on. ”Your face has a fine structure, pronounced cheeks, sort of, but you need a good night’s sleep. Maybe if you covered up the shadows, pulled on a dress shirt - yeah, I can see you ready for the cameras. But those windswept desert love stories aren’t you, you really wouldn’t take those roles. Oh, I know, you could nab a role in those witch movies. The Witch 2, 12, 20… whichever iteration they’re on.”

“It’s just ‘Witch’, ‘The Witch’ is separate series. And there are only 14 Witch movies.”

“Listen to you. Only 14, only 14, 14 too many witches, 14 years--”

“One of my relatives was in the latest movie,” Rai said, slamming the brakes on his train of thought, “two years ago.”

“Did she play the witch?”

“No. It was my uncle - maybe he’s been divorced out by now - playing a bit part and got his knees chopped off. By the witch, when she dropped this window pane on him, vertical, like a guillotine and he fell backward at a weird angle and the glass just takes off his knees - so he’s crawling away with stumps and leaves his feet behind and they're still standing, shoes and all.” Rai swung a hand, chopping at the desk for emphasis. “Contrived stuff. The movie wasn’t great, the last three have been the worst of the bunch. I wouldn’t have taken the role.”

“You’re a terrible actor.”

“I’m not an actor.”

“Please. You're doing it now. You protest but you can’t hide how much you’d love to have your kneecaps sliced.” Sao hopped out of his seat. There was something about this Witch scenario that was invigorating. He sauntered past each window, noticing how the sky seemed a slightly darker and deeper purple with each pane, how heating vents sang their goodbyes to the setting sun. “Did he die? Your uncle, when his caps came off.”

“Knee caps? You mean in the movie? I guess so, since it was his last scene.”

“You’ve read 90% of the police archives for fun, and you couldn’t determine if he died or not?”

“It’s just a movie.” But Rai could not help making a valuation. “Okay, people can - have - lived after losing their legs to explosives and industrial accidents, and I’m pretty sure he wasn’t killed instantly. Of course, he’d lose a lot of blood… and he might have fallen down the stairs before that, so internal bleeding’s on the table. Wait - I don’t remember if that was him or the store manager, I gotta re-watch that movie sometime… I know I have it somewhere...”

“What are you waiting for?” Sao turned from the window with a flourish. “This case has all pieces on video, ready for you.”

Rai may have been barred from the police archives, but his virtual movie stash would never turn him away. The movie was found, the file was loaded up, but first he had to shift the waterfall of cables on this desk, and turn the screen to a more accommodating angle for sharing - a Sisyphean struggle on the level of Sao trying to move his television. Something came unplugged and the speakers exploded into static, which was as painful as it was hilarious, and Sao laughed so hard he could barely stand.

Rai put down the monitor. “Should I turn it the other way?”

Sao slid to the other side of the office, tilted one way, then the other, and crashed into the new couch, which provided the perfect angle. “No, no no. Don’t change anything.”

The elderly couch springs wheezed. Rai looked like he was holding his breath.

Witch 14, or Witch: Sale of Souls took place in a department store. Rai’s uncle, who had the features of a supermodel and the emotive range of a paper bag, played a hapless security guard who became trapped during the night shift when the witch’s curse took hold. After wrestling with some animated mannequins he fell down several flights of stairs and (as promised) lost his kneecaps when a skylight dropped from the roof. He screamed and crawled to the food court, pursued by an ominous pointy-hatted shadow, and there was a cut to the opening credits so abrupt that Sao felt the spasm in his spine.

Rai, on the hardwood bench, sat with his chin on his hands. “There you have it.”

“Quite a concept. Your verdict on the victim?”

“About the same as I said before. Though I forgot about scream in the end, if the witch got him it could have been anything. Icy fire, a skinning spell, aura knives, magic heart attack…”

“Please, say it ain’t so.” Sao slid down in the sofa, his hair catching on the coarse, tacky fabric. “I’ve had enough of magic heart attacks for... forever.”

Rai groaned along with him. “I know. It’s too boring, too simple. Especially in the Fleming’s case...”

“Nothing is simple when the heart’s involved.”

Rai snorted, but it wasn’t quite as dismissive as Hro’s reaction had been on the call all those nights ago. “Do you still like them?”

“I won’t be asking them to the prom. Kidding. I don’t want Art and Karik dead, that’s for sure. I’m not sure I ever liked them.” Sao gazed blandly into the movie's main cast who now graced the small glowing screen. “I liked the house, definitely. I liked the idea of them. Maybe I’m just dense - what do I know about happy families? But just the look - the picture of a genuine, antique family, like dolls in a glass case, oblivious to the flow of time, the ugliness of the outside world...”

“People can’t live like that.” Rai scrambled his hair with his hands at the thought. “I mean, they have the right to live, I didn’t wanna see Kris or Carion go the way they did, but humans can’t live in a bubble. Unless that bubble is furnished with free rent and doctors and cleaners and groundskeepers, in which case it’s not much of a bubble. Either things are getting in or you’re getting out - to assume otherwise is just gonna make you enemies.”

“But who are the enemies?”

“I know mine, but the Flemings? Who knows. These people... don’t they know, without cameras and public health records, those outside the bubble can’t help you when you need it!” Rai brought his fist down on the armrest, his knuckles flaring blue. Fingers that resembled glow-worms could be incredibly distracting. Sao wondered how Rai ever managed to focus on anything. Rai could be very focused, too - practice?

Rai shook his head. “Humans aren’t Life Fountains.”

“Well, yes, the names don’t even match.” Sao struggled to remember what they were talking about. “You’re doing alright for something in between.”

“I’m barely a Life Fountain. And I just got suspended from my human job. I’m not in a bubble, but...” Rai paused. “You know who actually does a good job, Doctor Cadmus. He’s a pure LF, could live under a rock, perpetually soaking nutrients from dirt, and healing up. But for centuries he’s been getting up and trudging to work. No sick days, because why would he be sick? The only vacations he takes are on behalf of his wife. Did you know, he uses his wife’s surname?”

“Cadmus is married?” Sao smiled. Maybe too wide. His cheeks felt like they would rip open, just like Carion’s gut. And exhaust would get in, and grass, and frost. Misery.

“Eighty-five years to the same woman. Totally loyal, and no kids - a mutual agreement. I give the old man shit sometimes, but he really--”

“Knows how to pick them?”

“He has determination.” Rai stopped to watch an actress, who had gone half-nude since they last looked, stumble through the polished halls of the department store. “His wife is a human. In terms of looks, well, you remember Arilla and Zef? Well, they would have evened out eventually if Zef wasn't… you know. With Cad being a Life Fountain, he and his missus can’t even grow old together. I don’t know if gramps put any thought into his choice when he met her, but at least he’s committed. He really will be broken up when she’s gone.”

The nubile actress was thrown to the ground. Rai regarded her whimpers like an everyday occurrence and went on. “And he’s considered weird for an LF. Fitting in is considered weird. Imagine that. My mom, she’s… normal. She doesn’t care about meshing.”

A blast and a hearty scream blew back Rai’s musings. The next spectacle gripped Sao’s attention. A witch cackled and flew through the green-gray fog. Her makeup was quite impressive, Sao thought. Thick as whipped cream and full of convincing warts that gave him the immediate need to pick at his own skin. A huge improvement over the first film.

The writing, too, was much improved and despite the truly horrific aspects (he couldn’t withhold the odd cry of shock and disgust) there was an underlying delicacy to the relationship between a young sister (small, mousy, shy) and her brother (handsome, outgoing, burly) which turned Sao’s heart in all sorts of knots when the girl was possessed by the witch (in an oddly sexual manner) and began telekinetically shoving her brother through glass display shelves.

Sao sniffled.

“Are you okay?” Rai asked.

“It’s just so sad.”

“What?”

And now the brother was weeping, a heartrending display that made his sister halt her hand, struggling with the witch for control as they floated over the department of kitchen appliances. Their predicament was as foreign to him as the Flemings’, and probably just as hopeless, but he felt he had to get up and do something, damn it. Sao flailed wildly in his seat. The bottom cushion caved in, and his head dropped level with Rai’s elbow.

Rai set a baleful look on him, but didn’t say anything. Sao went still when the witch fell onto the barricade of gas stoves prepared by the (now dead) group of friends. The units burst into flames, and the witch began to melt in a (Sao thought) thoroughly clever callback to the first movie. The warts began to drip off, followed by wads of flesh and muscle, with such visceral screams and splattering that Sao could feel the flames peeling at his own skin.

Then a jump to the end credits.

“Pretty dumb movie,” Rai said with some (Sao thought) excessively practiced apathy.

“You’re joking. It was fantastic. Much better than the first one,” Sao said, climbing back up the armrest. “It looked better, it sounded better, the colors weren’t all mud and--”

“Are you trying to pick a fight? The first one’s a classic. The acting, the atmosphere: they’re all much better even though the movie was made over ten years ago.”

“You must be blind.”

“The lady’s face looked completely fake, and that fire?”

“Blind.”

“And they didn’t even beat the witch in this one. She just fell on a pile of stoves which somehow blew up despite not being connected to the gas main-”

“Well, they couldn’t make the brother kill his sister, could they?”

“Are you kidding me?” Rai stomped to his desk to close the movie, collapsing onto his swivel chair. “You know what your problem is? You don’t watch enough movies. Wait, forget that - you work for the police! You hear about people killing their families all the time.”

“News to me. Wish I knew it was normal when I was a kid, would have made things a lot easier.” Sao laughed. His ribs hurt. The sides of the collapsing couch were hugging him like an overbearing aunt. It was a comforting sort of pain.

Rai’s face was priceless, like an alien had landed on his couch. “Did you have too much caffeine today?”

“Nope, unless you got snuck coffee grinds into that salad, but I have a feeling you saved them all for yourself.”

“You know what, if you don’t have anything you need to work on at the moment, you can head home.”

“You sure? I could get disemboweled.” Another chuckle. “I’ll expect you to avenge me, you know. I don’t know how, since carrying a knife just seems to make it easier for the disemboweler--”

“Wait.” Rai rolled his chair back. “Carion. What if that’s what he was doing?”

“Trying to get dis--”

“Avenging his family. He went to a specific place, with a knife. We assumed he was running from something, afraid of something, but Carion was a guy who, for the right reasons, will slaughter pigs, skin them and pull out bones. What if he figured out who did it? Knowing someone killed his kids, that would be enough to push anyone to murder, right?”

“Don’t ask me, I don’t have kids.” Sao kicked his legs out over the armrest and settled his head. Almost as good as home, except for the ticklish fabric and chemical odor.

“Last night, he called the office. He asked what we’d do with the killer once we caught them. I played it safe and just talked about trial and jail time. It was in case he was guilty, I didn’t want to scare him into hiding. But what if he was trying to decide whether to report the culprit or go after them on his own? His faith in the police wasn’t great to begin with. My answer must have disappointed him.”

“So off he went.”

“And got himself killed.”

Rai’s face fell and Sao quickly added, “neither of us is really the kind to kill for our family, of course we didn’t leap to that conclusion. But this suggests that there really was some sort of killer. Of course we still don’t know what exactly this killer did to the rest of the Flemings. They weren’t gutted like he was.” A word so brutish shouldn’t have felt so good. He wanted to say it again.

“Yeah, that’s still a big question mark. If Carion was the only one who figured out the pattern and the perpetrator, there could have been some magic-related hint.”

“Got him gutted.”

“What?”

Sao sniffed. “But Arilla said that there was no curse. If so, maybe knowledge of magic let Carion see that there really was no magic involved.”

“No curse doesn’t mean there couldn’t have been different magic at work. And animists, in their own words, are limited.” Rai replaced Witch 14 with the hospital recording of Room 201, the night of Red’s revival. “Did it all really start here? Could it be something larger? Red’s wife died of something similar...”

The Sparrow gang, crowned by Neon’s wild mop of hair, entered the room with a group of nurses. The nurses then exited with Arilla, who looked considerably younger on film.

“She could be an actress too,” Sao said. Rai ignored him.

Plato came and went, pulling the three sleeping patients into the hall. Cadmus entered the room. There was a flicker of Kuro and Kris Fleming at the doorway, then the footage began shaking frantically with the Flemings’ cheers.

“There it is!” Sao said, throwing his arms up as if he were seeing the climax of a ballgame.

With a look of disgust Rai sped up the remaining video, with the Sparrows departing, the stretchers in the hall being wheeled back to their rightful spots, then Cole entering with his crew, leaving with several large bags. “There must be something I’m missing.”

“I’m guessing you had to be there.”

Arms crossed, Rai removed his gaze from the screen to inspect Sao again. Sao smiled sweetly. He felt like a desert, his face hot and his mouth sandy. He blinked several times, then waved his hands over his head to clear away the sunspots. “Can you turn off the light?”

That was the last straw. Rai slammed both hands on the desk and Sao almost jumped out of his skin. “There’s something wrong,” Rai snapped. “What did you eat today?”

“Not much. Maybe I’m dying. Of starvation.” He laughed and wondered if Rai was sick of hearing him laugh, so he stopped.

“Don’t know if you noticed, but you’re acting… off. Are you tired?”

“I don’t feel…” But was he? “Not really. It’s still early. I do feel bizarrely... not-tired. That is really odd, isn’t it? Oh man, do you think I’m cursed?”

“No.” Rai frowned at the half-finished salad. “I can’t believe I have to ask you this but did you drink - wait - you ate something when I was making coffee. What was it?”

“Something sweet.” Another nice word. “From a sweet little thing--”

“God dammit.” Rai’s hands both flashed, clasped and loosened, ready to tear Sao off the couch. Feeling the prickling faux suede hooking at him like tiny fingers, Sao welcomed him to try. But Rai didn’t move any closer. Instead, he began turning Sao’s desk over, checking under the laptop, under the pen-holder, flipping through papers, shaking his coat. “I’m not in the mood for games. What was it?”

“What game are you playing?”

“None. Would take your damn shoes off the armrest?”

Sao curled his feet in. “It’s candy. Moulded sugar. Fuck’s sake, Rai, the wrapper is right there.” He pointed at the floor. He contents of his head swirled from being pulled upright so violently, and he lay back down.

“What’s all this… fuzz?”

“Karik’s pocket lint. He gave it to me on the way out. You were there.”

“And you just ate it?”

“Well, I didn’t eat the lint. I ate the caramel. I doubt Karik poisoned me--”

“Where did he get this, though? Art doesn’t let her kids have candy.”

“I don’t know. Actually, I do. They hand them out at hospital reception. Axelle does, now there’s a sweetheart-”

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up.” Rai was yanking on his gloves.

“What? It’s not like I fu-”

“Shut it.” Rai stood over him, hands up as if prepared to perform surgery. “Listen: I think you’ve been drugged. You’re all sweaty and acting like a toddler. I’m not getting pulled into HQ for harassment if you say something you regret, or if you skip onto some train tracks on the way home. Get up.”

“Where are we going?”

“Hospital.”

“You’ll have to pry me out then, these cushions won’t let me go. Have you tried sitting in this thing? Don’t think so. Too bad, I’m in heaven, I’m going to lie here forever.” He patted the sagging upholstery. “You know, I doubted you and your home interior choices, but looks are deceiving. This was certainly was a deceiver.”

A smug look of pride crossed Rai’s face, but soon it was back to that shadowed scowl. “The sofa’s not going anywhere. Get up.”

“I wish I could.” Sao made a great show of summoning his strength and deflating without getting anywhere. His hands fumbled above the nest of cushions. “How about a little help?”

Rai remained where he was. “This is a trick. You don’t want anyone touching you.”

“And why do you think that is? Who wants to live in a bubble? What might… have made that... happen.” Sao lapsed into a dream, then out of it to more practical matters. “How did you get the couch in here, anyway? Wheel platform? I know, stick that under the base and wheel me out, ready to go… I’ll handle the stairs somehow.”

Rai frowned. Sao got some sweet reprieve and continued to babble brainlessly as Rai walked back to his desk, and replayed the hospital footage, his face motionless. Then, the reflections still flickering over his face, he smiled his fascinating, horrible smile.

It was so fascinating that Sao opted to look out the window instead. Across the street, a light was on, but he didn’t see anyone. He was pushing himself to his elbows out of the sofa's plush depths for a better look, when Rai appeared in front of him. In Rai's hands appeared to be a bunched shower curtain.

“What?” Sao asked nervously.

“I’ll tell you later. Catch.”

With an airy flump, Sao found himself in the dark, wrestling with a thick plastic sheet. He fumbled like a netted fish, and eventually found his way to the top, gulping for air. “What is this?”

“It’s your coat. Take it, we might be out for a while.”

“It looks like one of those bug killer suits.”

Rai started for the doorway. “Yeah. That reminds me, you don’t feel itchy or anything, do you? I’m glad the pest control took care of that couch so you could enjoy it.”

It took a while for Sao’s brain to parse this through a storm of other bright and colorful thoughts, though there was the immediate sense of impending dread, and he did start to feel an itch crawling across his skin. When it clicked, Sao leaped to his feet.

---

An abandoned hospital. Flickering lights. An oblivious young woman. Nowhere to run but right into the arms of spooks and specters.

Axelle shivered and sealed the windows of the staff room. It was an unusually quiet night, the air so still you could hear the snow falling in soft piles outside. Her imagination had been rife with curses and hauntings since the Flemings’ last visit. There were still salt piles and charcoal runes and strange straw effigies lying around from their alleged exorcists, and of course there were whispers about poor little Kris, found dead on the roof while the rooms below were being purged.

Of course, the hospital was hardly going to be abandoned for that. There were still plenty of patients lying in their beds, and a good number of staff still in the building. It was just that none of them happened to be in sight right now. It was all relative. Axelle wished for another night of chaos. Forget peace and quiet and coziness, she wanted to hear and talk and have places to be.

The tap of her own heels had her peeking over her shoulder with every other step. There was nothing to see, only echoes. She was alone…

A rustling. Axelle hopped back, several times like a rabbit, until she was hidden behind a pillar.

She peered into the vacant waiting area, at the the reception desk. Nobody. But the rustling continued. Then a clatter. And a grumble of, “come on...”

It didn’t sound much like a ghost.

---

Sao had his eyes checked, his blood sampled, his body hydrated, and he was put to bed on the second floor. He had been taken there by the most beautiful nurse and most handsome doctor available, chatting away like he had known them his entire life.

Despite the slapstick of it all, Rai did not laugh, and remained a constant distance from Sao, yelling at him to stop running his mouth, stop rubbing his face, and just stop, until Sao finally crashed headfirst into a fitful sleep. For better or worse, Sao revealed no sensitive information other than that he, an impartial observer, deemed Witch 14 better than the original movie, which left Rai feeling pretty sensitive himself.

More potent relief came from the doctor, saying whatever Sao had taken was not a dangerous dose, and would be out of his bloodstream in a few hours. The patient clearly wasn’t a regular user, but he should be careful. The substance he’d sampled could be addictive.

Rai didn’t tell Axelle any of this. Turning up at the dead of night, his hands gripping the upturned coffee pot, he really didn’t know what to say. “Hey. Will… will there be a refill?”

“Tomorrow morning.” She smiled in a way he wasn’t sure he liked.

“Is Cadmus here?” he asked.

“He’s left for the day. Do you need him for something…?”

“How about Trae?” No, anyone else would make for better conversation. “Actually, maybe you can help me track down some info, it’s kind of an emergency.”

“Sure, I’ll do what I can. Is this related to the Flemings case?”

Rai set the pot down, since there was no hope of coffee from it. She must have noticed his despair because she led him back to the reception hall with an offer. “You look beat, why don’t you sit down? Let me get you some tea from the staff room. You prefer breakfast tea, fruit, green?”

“Thanks. Breakfast.” Rai watched her go. “And you wouldn’t happen to have anything to eat? Haven’t eaten much today, even a little something sweet would be great.”

“I think I have something you’ll like.”

Rai was left in the empty hall with the echoes, until Axelle returned with a floral print mug and, as he’d hoped, a small object wrapped in crinkling foil. “There you go.”

Rai took a chug that made Axelle’s eyes swell. Tea didn’t always do the trick, but tonight he felt his bones thawing from their mass of tension. “Thanks. It’s strong, the best kind.” Rai exhaled. “Okay, I came here to ask some more questions about the room the Flemings were staying in, 201. Actually, the old man’s in there right now. How is he? Any police presence?”

“The police all left when you did. Cadmus is getting Trae to watch that hallway, I think, he usually does.”

“That should be fine. Trae is a friend of mine.”

“You think something is going to happen to Red Fleming…?”

“I don’t know, but looking at his family, chances are--” Rai stopped himself. “I’m actually interested what else happened at the hospital the night that Red recovered. The rooms were full and short on staff, but I heard the losses were minimal. I know about Zef, the Sparrow gang member, but there were two more...”

Axelle knew without digging through records. “Yes, one young lady came in critical from the crash across the highway. It was awful, we still have people in here recovering...”

“Sounded really bad. But the last death was a longtime patient?”

“Yes, his name was Skye. He was one of… well, for a long time he was...”

Her voice petered out; this one was not awful enough to remember, or too awful to speak about clearly. The prickling irritation got to him. Rai took the plunge. “He was comatose.”

“Yes. He was here longer than Red was too, such a shame, the same day that Red just got up, he passed… in all the noise from the Flemings, and he was just wheeled away quietly. He was so young, too.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong ...” Rai peered at the stairs, though of course, bodies weren’t wheeled down the stairs, unless starry-eyed drug-laden Sao had a say in it. “But Skye was also staying in Room 201.”

Axelle’s mouth opened, as if she had just remembered. “Yes, he was.”

“I noticed that the night Red got out, cameras showed had three neighboring beds - well, they were moved to the hallway that night - but they were supposed to be in that room.” Rai turned. “And today there are only two. Except for the night the Sparrows were thrown in there, the room’s patients seem to be mostly long-term terminal, so it’s not like there are a lot of different people coming and going. This Skye... Did he ever get any visitors?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t remember anyone asking for him, but I had a week off for the holidays, and I don’t see everyone... Plato might know more, he normally works that room and he was here all winter. He tends to take note of regular visitors. You spoke to him, right? He really gets to know everyone - not great in the case of the Flemings - but he’s on top of things. He never mentioned anyone coming for Skye.”

“That’s strange. I mean, sad. Stuck in bed for months, and nobody checks in on you? Was there really no family, no friends…?”

“I remember him specifically because I called his wife. They’re… separated, she didn’t want to see him. It’s a difficult situation. That’s right, he uses her name. Sasha? Sacia...”

Rai filed the names away for later. “Interesting how people will change their names like that. It’s nice to have the choice.”

“Are you married?”

“No.” Rai frowned. “So did his wife eventually visit, check the body, she or anyone else pay the bill? He was in here a long time.”

“It’s terrible that people have to think about the bill at a time like that. A guy dies, and...” Axelle shook her head, rosy colored hair flying in whips. “His wife said the family would take care of it and hung up. I know I never met the family, don’t even know if they came in, but they did pay, because we haven’t had to follow up. Those calls are never fun.”

“Is there a record of it?”

“There would be. Sometimes the the payer’s name isn’t put down, sometimes it’s autopaid, insurance or anonymous, but… something will be there. Would that be enough?”

“Thanks. And if you had his wife’s numbers, were there any other contact details? Like an address.”

Axelle stood and moved behind the desk, tapping the hospital computer to life. It was not a quick process. Rai almost gagged when he saw the machine, an antique block of mottled plastic that would not be out of place in a museum, or a fossil bed.

“So, how is Sao doing?” Axelle asked.

Rai chewed the side of his mouth, “Fine. He’s resting.”

“Was he alright after that run-in with the Flemings? I missed him when you both came in earlier today, we were all over the place preparing Red, I didn’t get to say hi…”

Rai prayed that she wouldn’t ask about Sao’s marital status either. “He was fine. But he, uh, he had an accident after that. So he’s resting.”

“An accident? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, the doctor said he could sleep it off.” Rai wished he could have pulled those words back down when he saw Axelle freeze. “S-so it’s not serious. Private matter...”

Axelle’s hands resumed typing, but she had to make valiant effort to set her mind to the task. There was a rather strained smile when she raised her hair again.

“Got the info. Now, if you’ll just let me log your ID.”

Rai recited the number. Axelle, still smiling infuriatingly, didn’t take it down. “Cadmus says we require the card or badge in person.”

Rai regretted ever telling Cadmus anything. “I don’t have either on me.”

“That’s okay.” But it wasn’t. “I’ve got Skye’s file right here, I’ll keep it open for you. If you send the request through your headquarters, I can get it to you by tomorrow. But for now… go get some rest, you look--”

“I don’t sleep.” Rai gnawed the finger of his glove. “Okay, fine. Private info, I get it. I’ll have to go through HQ. But for a particular emergency, can you confirm just one thing?”

With newfound purpose, Axelle regained composure. Her perfect servicer's smile did not beg to confirm anything.

Teeth grinding into the old leather, Rai wondered how Sao would wring some cooperation out of her. Sao was someone who seemed so insubstantial - his face was a mask of paint, for god’s sake - yet he had a way of drawing answers out with just a smile and a few glib words. But where did those words come from? It wasn’t so easy. It depended on the situation. You had to be there, and think a particular way. It also depended on the person standing in front of you. His oozing irritated Rai, but Rai knew it wasn’t meant to impress him. It was for the pretty men and women that Sao actually cared about oozing along with. Rai was convinced the two of them were made out of completely different substances altogether, something that went beyond rank or upbringing or species. Of course, thinking this didn’t help him here. He stared at Axelle dumbly and wondered what he did have.

“This enquiry actually... pertains to Sao’s wellbeing.”

From her reaction, Sao’s must have been nearly as important as her own.

“He’s in the hospital right now - upstairs - you can check. I didn’t want to have to tell you but someone may have targeted him. After speaking to the Flemings he started feeling strange. Dizzy, hyperactive. It seems like someone spiked his food, but we don’t know how, and there’s been a lot of talk of curses, and, uh. I hope he’ll turn out okay.” Rai sighed, as compassionate as he could muster. “So just one thing, for his sake. A place we were looking into. Skye’s address - the neighborhood. It wouldn’t happen to be along the Western highway?”

Axelle’s smile faded. She checked something, hands flying over the keyboard. “How did it happen?”

“I don’t know much yet. The doctor just said that he needs rest. I’m trying to figure out who got to him.”

Axelle’s hands stopped. The silence was like the sea, but then she said in the tiniest voice imaginable, “he’s lucky to have you.”

“Um.”

“And your neighborhood guess is correct.”

“Thanks.” Rai set his hands down, and slid away from the desk. “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver. Maybe literally.”

“Is he really alright?”

“They still have to run a blood test. I think it was--” Rai shoved his hands into his pockets, and he felt the foil-wrapped shape. “It may have been targeting someone else...”

He drew the candy out. Axelle smiled at him, her perfect sheen now wrinkled with concern, and he wondered.

“Axelle,” Rai said. “The week after Red got out of hospital, and Art visited with Kuro and Karik. You tried to give the kids some candy, right?”

“I guess I tried.”

There it was. “But you didn’t end up giving them anything.”

Axelle smiled sadly and shook her head. “Of course not. Art made sure of that. She really chewed me out, an hour and a half of screaming in the hall, everyone in the building must have heard it… I shouldn’t have tried. The kids just looked so upset, I wanted to give them something...”

“You weren’t the only one,” Rai said, thinking of the bones. He smiled broadly. Axelle made a face. Rai decided he liked her, though she probably didn’t like him. Luckily, Sao was there to act as a connector. Rai started up the stairs and in his hand the wrapper crackled cheerfully. Good. He could use something sweet.