Corvus shot Vos’iin a nasty look when the latter stepped into the room. They tore some of the bedding, using it to wrap Adrian’s wounded leg. Very little did the man tell them, but it was better than nothing, although Corvus felt as if they were still groping around in the dark.
The Mask of Many Faces allowed the wearer to appear as any individual they could imagine. When worn, it opened the wearer to the realm unseen, allowing them to see what they otherwise could not. Magic, in Adrian’s case. The current wearer was an unknown variable. The deity had left their chosen for the time being.
According to the man restrained before them, it was Melissa Townsend but Corvus refused to believe that. That simpleton had no business with a god.
“What do you want?” Corvus hissed at the elf in the doorway.
“She woke up,” said Vos’iin through thin lips.
“Oh? I didn’t hear any shouting. Was she a quiet lay?”
“Please, that one will bring me prolonged pleasure. I have no intention of taking that from her yet.” He cleared his throat. “She played coy but I believe she is working for Cromwell.”
Corvus got up, clocking Adrian across the face on the way up when he tried to comment. They were careful not to hit him too hard. He was already in excruciating pain from the multiple fingernails they tore off him. He refused to talk for too long. Corvus was done playing nice with him.
“You don’t say,” Corvus smiled as they herded Vos’iin out the door and shut it behind them. “What did she tell you?”
“Nothing yet.”
Their face fell.
“Then what…”
“Soon,” Vos’iin smirked. “Give me a little time. I will deliver results, but I believe this one requires a personal touch.”
With a sigh, they let him go following a brief nod. All they had done since coming here was annoy themselves with their lack of progress, so if Vos’iin swore he could make some then they had no standing to deny him. Corvus went to their bedroom to get some rest and settle their chaotic mind.
* * *
Just outside the home stood Marrow, her eye on a bird she was certain belonged to Cromwell. Not even he could see her, just as he could not perceive the God of Many Faces if Ezra did not wish it.
The raven perched nearby the targeted house ever since Veleria had been captured. It only hid when someone left.
“Even so much as entertaining the idea of leveling an entire town, I swear.” Marrow mumbled. She was tying black hair around a fetish, hair that once burned embers, now a potent source that Ezra had procured for her. She could have gotten it herself, but with the mask on her face it was more likely that Veleria would see her regardless of her curse. She also opened doors manually, unlike Ezra. No point in spooking the residents.
Torturers, rather. Marrow had heard Adrian shout.
She finished her work by burying the little straw doll beneath the porch. There were four others buried at specific points around town. Each held a single symbol, which corresponded to one of the five sigils that were tattooed on her fingers. When, or if, the time came, Marrow would act as the focal point for her magics.
She was going to throw whatever horrible spell Cromwell conjured right back at him.