Full Boar

Chapter 8: Werebat

Adrianna blinked as Leslie scooped up the last package of bacon from the refrigerated shelf and dropped it into the already full shopping cart. "Les," Adrianna said, "I'm not that much of a fan of bacon."

"Oh, I know," Leslie said, "but you're not shopping for enough, given your... condition." She glanced down the supermarket aisle. "At this rate... we may be emptying most of the meat section.

"At this point," Adrianna said, glancing as she did at the pile of... well, of everything, in her shopping cart, "I don't know if I can fit it all back home."

"That's a good point," Leslie said. "We'll stop by and grab some coolers."

Adrianna blinked, but said nothing. It had been four days since the incident in the bar and by then she had already eaten everything in her apartment. The strangest part of all of it, however, was when she weighed herself this morning, she had ditched three pounds. So, as Leslie threw another ham into the shopping cart and muttered something about large appetites, Adrianna was inclined to believe her.

"So explain how this whole situation works again?" Adrianna asked. The lecture Leslie had given the night before hadn't really stuck.

"What are you not clear on?" Leslie asked. "Because... there's a lot out there. And if... well, if I knew where to start, that might be an easier conversation."

Adrianna nodded. "Tribunal. You mentioned them. What exactly are they?"

Leslie's face soured. "Well, technically, I'm part of the Tribunal, but there's the Tribunal, and there's the Tribunal." Adrianna arched an eyebrow, so Leslie paused, throwing another steak into the shopping cart. "So... you work at a museum. There's people who work at a museum, your security guards, your janitors, your ticket salesmen, and then there's people who work at a museum. Like you."

"I get that much. The outer circle and the inner circle." She pushed the cart a ways, stopping at the paper products section. "Hold on, we should dash down here. Running out of toilet paper and towels."

"No problem." Leslie went ahead of her, glanced down the paper product isle, and then gave Adrianna a nod. The historian thought it a bit ridiculous, but Leslie had been adamant. It was annoying, but, if it kept Adrianna safe...

She strolled down the aisle. "So, explain this, then. You're part of the Tribunal... but you're like the janitor. Work with your hands more? Cleaning up messes?"

Leslie nodded and laughed. "Yeah. That's about right. We clean up the messes." She shook her head. "The Tribunal makes them, and we fix them."

"Right," Adrianna said, "but what exactly is the Tribunal?" She pulled a roll of paper towels off the shelf. Too expensive, she deemed, and selected the one next to it.

"They're the government, and they're here to help," Leslie said, with more than a bit of scorn in her voice.

"Oh. Reagan's most terrifying words, eh? That bad?"

Leslie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that bad." She fell quiet for a moment. "So the Tribunal, in the larger sense, is the government of the supernatural world. Technically, a monarchy, but since there's no heir to nor leader of House Pendragon on the throne, it's more of—"

"Wait," Adrianna said. "House Pendragon, as in Arthur Pendragon?"

"The one and the same," Leslie said. "Anyway, there are noble houses who are running things, along with the heads of various organizations that make up the leading council of the Tribunal."

"And you're one of these nobles?" Adrianna asked.

"Yep. Leslie Isabella Van Helsing, that's my full name. I'm a nobleman of one of the Duty-Bound Houses."