Chapter 4-109: Legal Procedures

Sama tried to keep the smirk off her face as she walked home.

It was definitely Lily’s first kiss as her new self, so time to teach her a few new things about other matters. Hagchildren were not really attracted to one another that way, having almost physical attraction to certain kinds of males when triggered. But, no need to not do double-duty with the act, right?

Hmm, what were police cars doing outside Master Vrune’s? Gollygeegosh, could be, maybe, possibly?

Nah, they wouldn’t be looking for the last person seen with a young Miss Leslie Vanderbilt, would they?

Sama glided past two uniforms, who jumped to see her skate by them, and stepped right through the forge’s front door.

The multiple heads that turned to see her walking in didn’t disturb her in the least, of course. Sama sifted through her Visual File, putting a name to faces.

“Detective Gossman, Detective Fielders,” she greeted the two leads from the police department, who had the great bad luck to be assigned to cases involving Powered that nobody in power wanted to get within ten feet of.

Somebody had to do it, and the two middle-aged men took the cases on with resigned apathy. A considerable number of said cases were never solved, and there was precious little they could do to close them. Indeed, without Harse’s Inquisitors getting involved, more often than not that was the case...

“Sama Rantha,” the tired-looking black Detective Fielders said formally, straightening up. “We have a warrant for your arrest, as a person of interest in the disappearance of one Leslie Vanderbilt, seen leaving with you yesterday from her school uptown. Are you going to resist arrest?”

He said that with the attitude that if she was, he wasn’t going to force the issue and potentially get killed. He just wanted to know so none of his people got killed, and they could send over someone who might actually be able to do the job.

“Enforcing the warrant is a voluntary action on your part. If you want to question me, go right ahead.”

Fielders looked at the rather chubby, badly shaved Grossman, who just shrugged fatalistically. “Do you admit to meeting the young Miss Vanderbilt?”

“Yep.”

“And where did you take her?”

“I didn’t take her anywhere, as I don’t own a car. We walked to the Hidden Stars, and I left her there in the care of the Sylunar Priestesses.”

Both cops blinked in astonishment at the simple answer. “Is she there now?” Fielder asked eagerly, hoping for a quick end to this kidnapping case.

Sama turned around and looked at the two uniforms standing there.

“Mel, Nancy, go get a cup of coffee,” Grossman said promptly.

Sama turned around and looked at the apprentices, who weren’t getting much work done now that she had shown up.

“Get a drink!” barked Master Vrune, rapidly herding his apprentices out of the back of his shop and closing the door.

When both doors were closed, Sama turned back to the two wary and rather nervous cops, who had the dire feeling this quickly resolvable case wasn’t going to be resolved so nicely anymore...

“Leslie Vanderbilt is dead. She was a Hagchild, whose Awakening was triggered by the arrival of her Hagmother to retrieve her. She underwent the Ritual of the Silver Queen, but the timing was very bad, being the dark of the moon. She did not survive the process.”

Both cops stared at her. “A Hagchild?” Grossman asked carefully, and Sama nodded. “Like you?”

“No, she was greenhag-blooded. I’m an annis-blood.”

The two cops looked at one another, back at me. “You said she died. How?”

“Well, if you fail the Ritual, you turn into a Hag, who happens to be in the middle of a bunch of Sylunar waiting and watching to see if you succeed or fail. What do you think happened?”

Both cops closed their eyes and sighed heavily, visions of paperwork filling their minds. “So, you’re saying she failed this Ritual, transformed into a Hag, and was put down by the Sylunar?”

“Better than having another greenhag running around eating children, I’m sure you’ll agree.”

“Can we see the body?” Fielder asked promptly.

“What wasn’t promptly burned to contain the Hag’s Death Curse?” Sama screwed up her face. “I’m sure they can give you a bunch of ashes fresh from a dead Hag, if you have someone who can verify that. However, there’ll be only the most tertiary of links to who she once was, given the power of a Hag’s transformation.”

The two cops looked even more depressed. “We can probably get a test or magical verification of that from another source...” Grossman told his partner, who just nodded.

“And gentlemen, just so you know... greenhags reproduce several ways. The classic way is to get pregnant by a man with a pregnant lover, and swap her baby with the woman’s while in the womb, eating the human child after she births it as a rare delicacy. The other way, that doesn’t involve killing the man, is getting pregnant by him, often by shapechanging into his wife or a secret lover and Charming him... and then using that shapechanging to imitate him, and injecting her baby into the womb of his wife, where it eats his human baby.

“Since both of her parents are alive, and she even has siblings, the latter is probably what happened. So, unless you want to inform her parents that a Hag slept with both of them, and its baby ate their daughter in her womb, which will probably rip their family apart, you might want to talk to the Sylunar about the best way to approach this matter, as they have the most experience in these kinds of things.”

“Fuck!” Detective Fielder swore, as I up-ended all their dreams of a quick and easy case with quick and really horrific instead. “That’s pretty sick.” Sama nodded slowly. “Wait, does that mean, you-?” he asked, looking her up and down.

“Annis do it differently. They rape a guy, eat him, and conceive. Then they take the hagspawn they birthed, find a family with a newborn, and the hagspawn eats the baby, devours them, takes their place and soul, and grows up in their place.”

Their faces twisted even more, looking at her standing there. “That means... you are?” Grossman sort of got out.

“My soul is that child’s soul, I grew up in my family, I led the life I was supposed to live... until it was my time, and the Hag Curse came to turn me into a Hag. I survived my trial, but it cost me my family, any magic I might have had, and what I was left with was what I am now.” I smiled brightly at them. “Would you like to hear about the procreation methods of the other Hags? They are quite macabre, too!”

“No, no, that’s fine.” Fielders looked like he was going to throw up, while Grossman just looked like he was going to add another nightmare to the heap he’d run across in his line of work.

“And just so you know, Hagchildren test more human than Powered do.” I tapped the Brand on my face. “This is a Curse. On me. All that Hag shit gets burned out by the trial, or we become a Hag. No magic means more human than guys who can fly through the air and toss fireballs, amazingly. It just leaves us with little gifts to let us know how much it admired our resisting being turned into horrifying monsters.” Sama grinned cheerfully for them again.

They actually looked rather thoughtful at that. “You test White Card?” Fielder asked, surprised.

“I test Clear.” Both men blinked. “Yes, I have less intrinsic magic than either of you do.”

“Damn.” Grossman stared at my Brand. “That thing must not like you!”

“No, but it can’t go anywhere else, so I’m stuck with it, and it’s stuck with me.” Which was totally true, of course. “So, you going to enforce that warrant?” Her smile was bright and happy, and nobody sane would think it was friendly if they answered wrong.

“As long as the temple corroborates your story, you’re in the clear,” Fielder sighed, shaking his head. “Magic and magical shit. Damn, I hate this crap.”

“Maybe someday, if the Haze goes away, we can all go back to just having world wars and humans shooting humans for skin color or religions or oil or the triumph of socialism, or something,” Sama agreed cheerfully.

------

Her beaming smile followed them out the door, and the bell rang as it closed behind them.

Her smile faded away, and she stepped over to the counter and slid across it. On cue, Master Vrune stepped out from the back door, and closed it behind him.

“Gone?” the stout dwarf asked unnecessarily.

“Yes,” she replied, watching as the squad cars and unmarked vehicle moved away.

“Anything I should know?” the Master Smith asked in a low voice.

“No, but I’m going to tell you anyways. The girl they were looking for is a Hagchild. I’ve known who and what she was within a week of my coming to the city.

“She survived the Ritual of the Silver Queen, and is on her way to Detroit and Heavenbound Hall right now to get trained. She doesn’t look anything like her old self, and there’s no magic that’s going to connect her to her former family at this point.

“Oh, and I killed her Hagmother, who Awakened her Curse and started this mess. Quiffio came here to tell me a Hag had arrived in town.”

Master Vrune looked up at her for a moment, then followed her gaze out the door, lost in thought.

“Hags have children in horrible ways,” he commented.

“Oh, so very true!”

“Did you lose your family, or leave them?” he asked softly.

“Left them. They know I am still alive, but it’s best for all concerned if I have nothing to do with them.”

He grunted. “I imagine that makes you quite angry at times...”

“Yes.” Sama smiled again. “I’m afraid it requires several different outlets for anger management.”

“Indeed,” the Master Smith nodded slowly. “Family is very important, Sama.”

“It is,” Sama agreed. “Now, how about we get back to work, instead of talking about maudlin stuff like that? I have the sudden urge to mistreat a lot of innocent steel.”

Master Vrune, smiled slightly. “Burying yourself in work only works for so long, Sama.”

Sama rolled her eyes at him. “That depends on just how much work you can make for yourself, Master Vrune!”

The dwarven Master Smith thought about that, and nodded slowly.

He had noticed long ago that Sama was never without projects to work on, only funds to do so. Given how fast she could work, that was impressive on its face, but what kind of planning might be behind so much unrelenting hard work from someone who rarely slept?...