Knight Casefiles Book 1: Revelations

Revelations [Chapter 11]

Chapter 11

I may not have thought much of our gracious host, Mr. Whistler, but I’ll give him one thing: his staff makes great breakfast.

The morning after my nostalgic chat with Elaine, I sat down with Sigrun in the Lodge’s luxurious dining hall and helped myself to the breakfast spread already laid out. It was still pretty early, the sun barely up, and so there were only a few people there to join us. Chubby fanatic guy, Robert, was there with a friend of his, busily ignoring me as he defied medical norms by ingesting several pounds of grease. Three more I didn’t recognize were already dressed in semi-formal wear, primly chatting about how comfortable the rooms were. Neither Margaret nor Elaine appeared to be up yet.

“Chris, are you paying attention?” Sigrun asked.

“Of course,” I muttered through a mouthful of bagel so that it came out as “Mff, kmff.”

She gave me a level look and resumed to stirring her single cup of coffee as she outlined our repertoire for the day. “Like I was saying, I highly doubt that we can depend on the twins for help so we’re on our own. We’ll see if the local authorities are open to, ah, financial negotiations before we do anything rash.”

I nodded, mulling it all over. Huginn and Muninn, no matter how helpful when it came to information gathering wouldn’t directly interfere with mortal affairs like this. It would cross lines that no one wanted to have to cross. That was what Knights were for. And, since we were from out of town and didn’t have anything that would credit us as people who had any business poking their noses into mysterious disappearances, the best way would be either to trick the authorities into telling us about it, or bribe them, if it came to it. Knights may be mortal champions, but the word mortal is still there.

I never claimed to be holy. If the end result was satisfactory, I’d do whatever I had to do to get to it.

Didn’t mean I had to enjoy the ride.

I swallowed my bagel and downed a warm cup of coffee. “What if the authorities don’t accept our reward?”

Sigrun stopped stirring and stared at her cup for a moment. “We’ll find another way.”

Her words sent a chill down my spine. There was a cold, iciness to her words, like a soldier accepting practicality over altruism. And she wasn’t even mortal.

Elaine and Margaret stepped in then, the pair of them speaking animatedly with each other. How do girls manage to look good in the morning? Is there some kind of physical law to that? Where my head was still decorated with bed hair, theirs, even Sigrun’s, were immaculately combed and freshly shampooed. They caught sight of Sigrun/Olivier and I and waved a greeting. Elaine touched Margaret’s elbow and murmured something, the latter nodding in what looked like acknowledgement. They parted, Elaine flashing a smile as she walked over to us while Margaret went to Robert.   

“Good morning,” she said to the both of us, planting a kiss on my cheek before pulling a chair next to me.

"Good morning to you, too,” I said. I gestured towards Margaret. “You two have gotten awfully chummy.”

Elaine shrugged as she accepted a bagel from Sigrun, murmuring her thanks. “I wouldn’t say chummy. Due to my relative apathy towards this job, I’ve decided to just get testimonials from all high-profile guests. Best-case scenario: I get some juicy tidbit I can write an op-ed on.”

“Margaret counts as high profile?”

She shrugged. “See any other psychics around here?”

“Oh, then aren’t you gonna ask for mine?”