Chapter Text
Nefer’s low hum was an accompaniment to Ashru’s purring as Finis took over Jahoda’s daily chores, ones which included brushing the black cat’s fur and acting as a sounding board for the boss’ ever moving thoughts. She muttered something about the Lightkeepers under her breath he didn’t catch as Ashru turned in a circle for him to brush his other side. It was no bigger than the size of his palm, and he had to cup the golden brush tightly to keep it from tearing out of his fingers when it snagged on a buckle or chain of ornament draped across the cats back. He dropped it when Nefer cleared her throat.
“What,” Finis asked as he bent down to pick it up. Ashru jumped from his lap and onto the Nefer's desk in the middle of the main room in the Curatorium, kneading at a pile of paperwork by the time Finis found the brush and sat back up in his stool in the corner. Nefer tossed a leg over her opposite knee and tapped the toe of her shoe against the leg of the desk.
“There’s some unusual reports of a dead Lightkeeper in Nasha Town,” she said, clicking her tongue as she repeated herself. Finis rolled the brush over in his hands, trying not to meet her eyes. She continued without blinking even as Ashru turned to rub against her arm. “How one ended up in such a state is already a mystery in and of itself considering their usual occupational hazards, but people are mentioning a few more of their numbers in the area for it to be more than just a coincidence.”
“And?” He felt more than saw her gaze change as the question left his mouth. It hadn’t been long enough that he’d squeezed out from under Boss Nefer’s thumb over the last year of living under her roof and into her periphery instead to have gotten comfortable with being on the sidelines, uninformed. His shoulders sagged and he stood up from his stool and kicked it towards the others gathered around the nearby meeting tables along the wall. “You know how the Lightkeepers can be,” he started to complain, and shut his mouth as Nefer’s eyes narrowed. He raised his hands, pleading. “I’m just saying they’re harder to get a word out of than Ashru.”
The cat meowed at him and Nefer scratched the cat under the chin. “Jahoda still isn’t back and, regardless of her schedule, you’ve had more experience dealing with them than she has.”
“I've worked with them some,” he corrected, gathering up his things scattered about the room. He snatched up his belt of tools to cinch around his waist and slipped his pack on his shoulder. There had been a few offhand jobs out of convenience he remembered, but most of his interactions with the Lightkeepers were rescues. Of him. “You should be grateful Illuga happened to be there when I got lost after you sent me out in the middle of the night.”
“I am. It means you know a name to leverage for information about this situation should you need to.” She tapped her foot faster against the table and Finis sighed, shoulders sloping. He stabbed a finger in her direction.
“Fine. But if I’m not back by tonight you’re using whatever I get out of them as rent.”
She cocked her head, eyes calculating, before she nodded and Finis stood up a bit straighter. He wouldn’t have to scramble for some tidbit or rumor to give her in the few days he had left of the month then. It left him with more time to keep building his current project at home instead of running up and down Nod Krai on odd errands to catch a lead for her. It was going to be a good one now that he had more time to collect parts.
“They’re looking for a Lightkeeper named Flins. Find him first and start there.”
“I know the guy.” Finis’ eyes drifted towards the wall as he tried to recall just where he remembered the name before. Shock brought his gaze back to her face, now graced with a sharply raised brow. He remembered someone tall and somewhat soft-spoken on some job or another, but not someone that seemed capable of murder. “Wait - you think can find him before his own peers do? Don’t tell me they think he’s the guy that did it.”
Nefer laughed. “I suppose that’s for you to find out.” One hand still occupied with petting Ashru, she waved the other towards the door. “It should be easy for you, right? You were a Garde in Fontaine.”
Finis snorted. “I was a mechanic for the Gardes and their Gardemeks.” She raised a brow. He rolled his eyes. “And yes, sure, Fontanian protocol means all Gardes were trained in force and interrogation, I see what you’re getting at. But-”
“I’ll make any information worth two months rent.”
“-I’ll do my best.”
Finis saluted her, hand to his forehead. She gestured towards the door again and he slipped out into the streets of Nasha Town, grumbling only when the door had securely shut behind him. The Lightkeepers weren’t a subtle group, not with their heavy uniforms to combat Nod Kai’s nighttime weather and northern snow storms, but they weren’t exactly the easiest to pick out in a crowded town. Especially when they were known to patrol in no more than a pair or two. Finis at least had worked with them regularly enough on their machines and the Lighthouse exterior repairs to spot one if he tried, but if there was a murderer in their midst…he didn’t want to be the one everyone pointed out as asking questions if there was a whole squad of them around.
A task such as this needed delicacy. Planning.
A full stomach, he decided, catching a whiff of fresh cooking wafting from the Flagship. Two months rent and a hearty lunch, he decided, was worth risking his neck, as he headed across the way.
There was a line winding through the tables to the bar when he entered, and Finis was more than happy to wait his turn to order. It gave him more time to plan, or, so he told himself as he rocked back and forth on his feet, one hand scratching at his cheek while the other toyed at a screwdriver hanging from his belt. Where was he supposed to begin? Nefer's lack of a hint to spurr him off meant she knew less than she liked but wouldn’t admit her lack of information. Or she truly believed his previous encounters with the Lightkeepers and Garde training from a lifetime ago were all he needed to succeed. He wished he had the same faith in himself as he muttered out his order when it was his turn at the front of the bar. He couldn’t just come out saying that since they’d worked together before then maybe they could for this because finding a murder was totally something a mechanic could do and there was definitely no ulterior motive to trying to become a man on the inside.
Finis shook his head and headed towards an open spot by the back near the doors to the rooms for rent. He should start with listening to the townspeople first. Someone was bound to still be whispering about the death and its location. Whichever location cropped up the most would have the most merit to search first. There was an abandoned shop the Lightkeepers occasionally used as a meeting post, too, if he couldn’t get a lead and was willing to risk being caught for a tip. Finis pushed back the hood of his long coat to hear the buzz of the tavern better and tucked the length of his scarf into his tool belt to keep it clean from the bowl of food in front of him. He tried to think back on his training as he spooned at his meal, and only startled back into the present when the door behind him opened. A heavy boot kicked against his leg, toppling the soup filled spoon into his lap, as the person passed.
“My apologies. I didn’t see you there.”
“It’s fine I was just…” Finis trailed off as he looked up - and up - from his stained pants and at the passerby. Heavy coat. Dark colors. Tall. Strange lantern. Maybe he was better at this than he thought. “Lightkeeper Flins.”
“Oh my. Mister Finis. Were you looking for me?”
“Something like that.” Finis stared down at his plate and back up. He took a breath and stuffed some of the less greasy food into a napkin and then into his pocket before standing. “Where are you headed to?”
“I was on my way to start on some errands.” Flins gave him a bemused smile. “Did you care to join?”
“You know what? I do. I have something I wanted to ask you.”
“Then by all means.”
Finis glanced at the patrons of the Flagship. Few lifted their heads from their plates or conversations as they headed towards the exit and he noted that those that did gave them only fleeting glances. Nefer’s suggestion to find Flins must have been the only hint she had to give him if no one seemed disturbed by the, possible, main suspect of the murder that was the current topic of interest. The town itself was similarly unperturbed by Flins’ presence as the two of them drifted from errand to errand. The shopkeepers were friendly towards his idle chatter and Flins himself didn’t act in any sort of hurry. It was Finis, instead, who was anxious and jumpy as he tried to keep an eye towards the meeting place at all times just in case there was a lingering Lightkeeper on the lookout for Flins. Though he spotted a few coming and going, none directed their eyes on a sweep of the town. He didn’t let his guard down even as they meandered towards the edge of town, and he jumped when FLins spoke up.
“I enjoyed the company of an acquaintance, but you haven’t asked after any of your questions.”
Finis coughed. Right. He was in the presence of Nefer’s target and the best source of the event’s information. He’d never been part of an interrogation before, but he’d read the handbook. He needed to be firm, but polite. Wary, for his own safety, but not suspicious for the suspect’s sake. There was no guilt unless proven - or so the Iudex had emphasized in the handbooks. Flins leaned forward, casting his shadow over Finis and he suddenly realized how tall he was. How tall his spear was. The thing nearly touched the ground even as the very sharp blade poked up from behind the Lightkeeper’s head. He swallowed.
“What, uh, we’re you doing the other day,” he managed to get out between imagining Nefer beating him for running away and Flins stabbing him for suspecting him.
“I was at the lighthouse, keeping the light lit, as is my solemn duty. You know this as the priority for the Lightkeepers. You had only needed to visit if you needed me then.”
Finis found himself flushing. Had Nefer said when the murder happened? “Okay, what about before that?”
Flins hummed and Flins felt his stomach knot uncomfortably as he caught, or imagined, a hint of a laugh in the sound. “I believe I was out patrolling and stopped by the Frostmoon Scions. The Wild Hunt has been most active there of late. They gave me a delightful breakfast in return for the assistance.”
This wasn’t working. Finis needed a new plan. “What are you doing later?”
“Are you hoping to find more work? Or - dear me - you couldn’t possibly be asking to spend your free time with a humble Lightkeeper for leisure.”
Finis took a step back, sputtering as he was caught off guard. “What? Of course not - you-”
Flins laughed again. “Ah, so my suspicions were right.” Finis snorted. His suspicions? “The Curatorium sent you to find out the truth of last night’s events.” His smile faded and he turned his face away. Finis shifted his weight, the layer of ice permanently freezing the ground cracking under his boots. The cost of two months rent suddenly seemed much less than however Flins thought of the death of a coworker. Friend? Finis cursed under his breath, all thoughts of questioning disappearing as fast as his quick breaths disappeared into puffs of white. He forgot sometimes how impartial Boss Nefer could be and, partial training or not, Finis was sure from his intuition as a former Garde, that a murderer couldn’t look as thoughtful as Flins did at the moment.
“I’m so-”
“The matter is being looked into.” The smile was back on his face and Finis felt the freezing bite of the weather defrost a bit beneath it. “I do appreciate your concern over it, however.”
“Oh, uh, yeah. Of course.” He sighed. His Garde intuition told him Flins was giving him an out. He sighed a second time and dug his heel into the ground. He’d lost people too before in Fontaine. He’d been under investigation by the Boss when he first tried to settle in Nasha Town. He liked working with Flins. “No, wait. I am sorry. Really. I didn’t think about how you must have felt about it. I probably didn’t know them but I have worked with you enough to know how hard it must be.”
“Thank you.” He sounded truly appreciative this time, but Finis didn’t trust the look still lingering in his eyes. “You can make it up to me by helping me carry these goods back to the graveyard.”
Finis took some of the bags from Flins’ hold without complaint. He deserved that. At least he wouldn’t be back until the morning and the Boss would have to hold on to her promise. Even if the news he had to share with her wasn’t the outcome she was looking for. Still, he thought, as he fell into step with Flins, he was more than happy to be able to tell her Flins was still just the strange, soft-spoken man he was coming to know better.