Another short story, also taking place between Adventure Six and Adventure Seven.
Internal Investigations
87th of Summer, 501 A.O.V.
Millie dithers outside the building, perched in a tree as she surveys her target. They've proven frustratingly elusive so far: constantly coming and going, or remaining absent for long periods of time, with seemingly no moments to spare. Quite rude, really. But thanks to an anonymous tip-off from an unnamed kineticist, she's finally got them in her sights: conveniently alone and unoccupied.
Paperwork doesn't count, the blue jay reminds herself. Pete said so. With a flip of her wings, the little bird darts off the branch toward the open window.
"Constable Millipede approaching the target," she mutters to herself. "Currently non-hostile. Backup not yet required - although sightlines unreliable. Situation may change." The blue jay flits to a stop on the smoke-stained windowsill and taps the glass, peering into the shadowy room beyond. "Constable Eleanora?" She pokes her head inside. "Can I have a moment, please?"
Ella looks up from her paperwork, brown eyes wide and dark curls in disarray. The hand that had been massaging the base of her horns drops as she stops pondering how to word her report. ('The teapot blew up and I'm terribly sorry but we don't know how or why but we need a new roof and a new teapot because some of us can't function without caffeine and the hole in the ceiling really isn't very good for security - although it did do wonders for venting the poisonous gas,' doesn't sound terribly professional.)
"Millie!" The tiefling glances around, noting the lack of daylight with surprise. "Err, one moment." She sets her badge alight and hurries over. "What do you need? You didn't have trouble getting in downstairs, did you?"
"Oh, no." The blue jay shakes her head and hops inside, perching on the back of Angharad's chair. "The doors are rather difficult sometimes but Maxwell is always very kind about opening them when Pete isn't here - and Sebastian says he's working on a variant Gremlin that can detect badges so maybe they can find a way to have the doors open automatically when I arrive?"
Millie puffs out her chest proudly, showing off the meticulously polished badge pinned to her jacket. "Only he said he's meant to be making it for authenticating badges, so it might take a while to get to the door thing but that's alright: Millipede the Magnificent would never impede an important security upgrade!" The crest of feathers on her head perks up for emphasis.
"...Right." Ella blinks at the barrage of information, storing it away to ask R&D about later. "Well, how can I help?"
"I just wanted to talk." It's such an innocuous statement for someone who’s spent much of the past month arranging this meeting.
Ella's heart sinks. "Oh." She'd wanted to talk too: emphasis on had. Then she'd over-thought and fretted and eventually decided that perhaps Millie's second life would be better off without her in it. "Okay."
The gnome retreats to her desk and shuffles the unfinished paperwork, stalling. Her attempt at creating distance is foiled by the blue jay fluttering over and landing on the desk.
"You do that a lot," Millie observes. "Running away." She tilts her head, dark eyes reflecting the glowing badge.
Ella’s mouth goes dry under that gaze and when she opens it nothing comes out. She hadn't thought she'd been that obvious about it… she'd just tried to be wherever Millie wasn't. The wizard blinks and looks away. "Oh, well-"
“You do that too,” the blue jay interrupts, “changing the subject.” She ruffles her feathers in annoyance before hopping onto Ella’s hand.
The tiefling freezes. “Millie-” her voice is strangled.
“We used to do this all the time,” the tiny bird says reproachfully. “And just because I can’t hear you in here now-” she ducks her head, “-doesn’t mean I can’t tell when you’re upset. I know you've been fighting dragons and chasing secret societies and losing limbs and going insane and things… but you seem upset with me.”
Ella's hand quivers beneath the bird's feet, claws digging into the table. "How-" It doesn't matter; of course Millie knows. She’s one of the RHC's self-proclaimed top agents.
"I'm not upset, Millie, I'm just-" Ella's voice breaks and her resolve along with it, words falling to a whisper: "-so terribly sorry." The gnome's shoulders sag as she meets her former familiar's gaze with tortured eyes. "…You didn't deserve what happened. Didn't deserve to d-die for my-"
Millie's crest feathers slick back. "Yes but I didn't die for you!" she interrupts abruptly. "Or for your mistakes. And I'll thank you not to undermine my magnificent demise in the line of duty with your self-pity!"
She puffs up and inspects the tiefling before flitting up to her shoulder and leaning across to peck a tear off Ella's cheek. "I chose you, remember? You wouldn't have made it that far without my marvelous investigative work at the arms expo! Or my excellent puzzle solving in the ziggurat! So if anything it was my fault that we were in that tunnel, but you won't hear me apologising because we both decided to become constables and accept those risks!"
Bright eyes hold Ella's intently. "That's what you told me after the ziggurat: 'It's part of the job.' Sometimes we get hurt but we do our best to help each other. Whether that means being brought back to life after getting blown up by an unstable portal thingy, or being comforted after going insane for months without anyone knowing and then blaming yourself for it despite everyone telling you otherwise!"
Millie clacks her beak decisively and stares adamantly into Ella’s tearstained eyes, before gently patting the tiefling with a wing. "Besides, I'm back now so you don't have to worry." She holds out her other wing as if to demonstrate. "I may have been quite small for a while but John said I was in excellent health for a recently dead person and now I'm all grown up again! So it's quite fine really - which goes without saying, since I'm always fine." She preens ostentatiously and glances expectantly at the gnome but Ella's eyes are too full of tears to notice: her shoulders curling inwards on a suppressed sob.
The blue jay huffs softly. "Well really, If you're going to waste your eye-water on anything it should be the appalling lack of peanuts in this office! I haven't seen a single one."
She hops onto Ella's horn and tugs at a dark curl with far less vehemence than her words suggest. "Less than a year without me and you're all falling to pieces," she scolds gently. "The Royal Homeland Constabulary can hardly operate with one of its top constables in this condition. The Constable Eleanora Cassia Arista Demetriou I know may have a belly full of squirmy worms and forget what a comb is, but she shouldn't be sitting in the dark forgetting to turn the lights on!"
The blue jay tucks a strand of hair behind Ella's ear officiously and peers at her blotchy face. "...You're being very quiet," she observes. "The belly worms didn't eat your insides, did they?"
A mingled laugh and sob escape as Ella finally rubs her face and shakes her head. "N-no," she croaks, "they haven't q-quite managed it yet." She turns toward the vibrant, meddlesome presence on her shoulder and smiles. "I’ve… m-missed you, Millie."
"Yes," the blue jay agrees comfortably, "I've missed me too." She pauses before adding: "And you of course," and preens as the tiefling laughs.
It's some time before that laughter no longer hiccups into sobs and the tears dry on Ella's face, but eventually the awful, aching guilt that’s hollowed out her insides for eleven months subsides. Not entirely gone, but lessened. Bearable. Small enough that she can slide into her chair and cup the blue jay in her hands and enjoy the moment. Feel close to her former familiar for the first time since their bond was ripped away in an agonising, insanity-induced moment.
Millie perches in her hands and enjoys the conciliatory neck scritches. "...You know, I heard you were in a 'torrid affair' with the Principal Minister and a mystery gnome," she comments, "but I wasn't sure what 'torrid' meant so I asked Pete. Now I'm surprised you don't have nestlings."
Her bright-dark eyes blink as Ella's thumb pauses in its ministrations. "Although I suppose it takes longer when you don't have feathers… but if that's part of why you're emotional then you can tell me: I won't share with anyone! We can make a nice nest-house to keep your hatchlings safe and make sure no one knows where they are. John would help, I'm sure."
"Millie!" Ella splutters, cinnamon skin turning mahogany. "I'm not in an affair or pregnant! Where did you hear that?"
"It was in a book,” the blue jay replies serenely. “Pete loaned it to me. It was quite good really - although I found the part where you went undercover as part of a circus and had your leg chopped off by a chainsaw-juggling clown to be quite unlikely." She moves to the edge of Ella’s hand and peers down at Skeet consideringly. "But maybe not."
The metal prosthetic bounces in greeting and the crest on the songbird’s head perks up as she waves a wing back.
Ella chokes. “What kind of books has Pete been buying?"
"Oh, he didn't buy it." The blue jay offers no further explanation.
Ella snaps her mouth shut on a question and shakes her head. "Well however he got it, I hope he hasn't been loaning it out to everyone."
"No," Millie assures her, "mostly he just reads it aloud in the breakroom."
"I-" Ella groans and covers her face with a hand. "Please don’t tell me Delft listens."
"Well, sometimes - but he's very busy. I think the Chief Inspector prefers the part where Constable Lisandra played poker with a ghost dragon though."
"That's not-" the gnome gives up. "Well I'm glad the two of you are staying entertained between missions, along with the rest of the office. Hopefully our next adventures won't be quite so sensational."
"Oh, I hope they are," Millie replies earnestly. “Lunch time would be very dull otherwise. We made a bet on who’ll lose a limb next and I put my peanuts on Constable Angharad losing a leg to a giant plant monster - not that I want that to happen but it seemed better than your head being dissolved by an exploding ooze."
“What? Who-?” Ella grimaces, suddenly quite certain which member of the RHC voted for an exploding ooze. “Well as heads aren’t limbs, I’m sure you made the better choice, but please don’t ask John to spice up our next mission with summoned plants.”
The blue jay shuffles her wings and puffs out her chest in an unconvincing display of indignation. “Of course not! Millipede the Magnificent would never wish danger on her fellow constables! …But if it did happen, you’d vouch for me that it had?”
The tiefling rolls her eyes. “How about instead of answering that, I finish my report and buy you some peanuts? Or better yet: we go to Bee’s and see if she’s still making her honey-peanut sorbet? Guilt-free food without lost limbs.”
Millie perks up and nods. “Alright!” She flutters down to the desk and peers at the half-finished paperwork. “This looks familiar… is it a property damage report?”
A snort mixed with a sigh escapes. “Essentially, yes.”
“Oh! That’s easy then.” The blue jay clears her throat and starts to dictate: “Dear Accountants, due to entirely unavoidable and uncontrollable circumstances for which we cannot be held liable…”
Her spiel isn’t entirely helpful, but it certainly offers interesting insight into her escapades with Pete.
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