The Leviathan

Chapter Nine

"Enjoyed yourself, did you?"

Myra stood at the door, her arms crossed but a smile at the corner of her lips. Maeve rolled over, burying her face in the pillow.

"Ignoring me won't help. Gosh, the alcohol's smell so strong. At least take a shower, will you?" Maeve made a sound that made it clear she wasn't moving. Myra sighed as she took a seat beside her friend. "Who would've thought. Someone tried to do some detective work, and ended up blackout drunk."

Maeve mumbled something under the covers, as Myra peered over her. "I found something while you were out messing around."

"I wasn't messing around." Maeve moved some of the hair from her eyes, meeting Myra's gaze. "Enlighten me."

"In your account, you mentioned an old man named Locke, did you not? He helped you and Sage out, and tried to warn you right before you were captured."

Maeve remembered the old man. Had her powers returned fully, she might've been able to save him. She nodded. Myra exhaled slightly.

"An ongoing investigation into the warehouse does not mention a Locke anywhere. His body's gone. Are you positive he's dead?"

"I...yes. I watched him die." Maeve was wide awake now. His neck had been slit, as one of the grey ranks came for her. She remembered his body dropping like a log. "He died in the warehouse."

"Well, we've searched all around the warehouse, even downstream the river Lynx. The body's gone. And get this: I managed to track down several citizens of Nirius, hiding out in the countryside. He moved into the town just days before the citizens left. He's no innkeeper, Maeve." Myra rubbed her eyes. Maeve only now noticed the dark circles under them, her eyelids slightly droopy.

"The man's a ghost, is what I'm trying to say. I think whoever retrieved his body, whoever's working with him, might know something about the traitors among us. They might even know their identities."

"So we start with them." Maeve said, as Myra shook her head.

"Not we." Myra eyeballed Maeve's cast for a second. Maeve raised her other hand, her eyes gleaming faintly.

"I'm very much still combat ready."

"I have no doubt of that. But it's too dangerous. If you get caught off guard..or worse, I couldn't forgive myself. Only reason I'm even here telling you this is cause you deserve to at least know. But please, Maeve." Myra clasped Maeve's one good hand in hers. "Stay out of this."

Maeve opened her mouth to protest, but Myra put her fingers to her lips. This isn't up for discussion, she mouthed.

"Go out and have fun, Maeve. Enjoy life. Make some new friends. You deserve it." Myra grinned. 

Maeve laid back down with a slight groan, the effort from holding her head up becoming too much to bear.

Myra shut the door gently behind her, leaving a passed out Maeve in the room.

---

It was night time when Maeve came to. The splitting headache had dissipated, thankfully. After a quick shower, and some fresh new clothes, Maeve felt significantly better then she did in the morning.

Myra's words were fresh in her mind. It was true; they knew far too little. It was best to let the situation develop a little more, and go off that. But Maeve couldn't suppress the restlessness inside her. The irksome feeling that right now, among the Huntsmen, there were members that wanted to turn against the throne. Sitting and doing nothing felt like she was giving the enemy a chance to get ten steps ahead of them.