Chapter 239: Chapter 239

Jenkins froze, blinking in confusion.

"So that's why you went out of your way to warn me?"

On second thought, this was a disaster that had fallen right into his lap. He was just minding his own business in Nolan, and suddenly trouble was brewing all the way from New Truman. But then, another thought struck him:

"Wait, sir," he said, "this might not even be about me. All twelve of the Orthodox Churches have Saints, and the secret churches of the pseudo-gods probably do too. This could just be Miss Bevanna being extra cautious."

At this thought, a smile returned to his face.

Captain Bincy, not understanding the reason for his smile, reached out and adjusted a wall sconce, angling the candlelight to illuminate a larger area.

"The arrival of Miss Bevanna's letter coinciding with the discovery of silver in Mr. David's blood is a very bad omen," Bincy continued. "In any case, you need to be careful. It might not mean anything definitive, but a little caution never hurts."

A somber mood settled over Jenkins, darker than the gloomy sky outside. He sighed and reached into the breast pocket of his suit for his pocket watch, only to remember it had been broken during the "accidental" discovery of the Doomsday Document. He still hadn't gotten around to repairing it.

"Speaking of which," Jenkins asked, "the so-called child of an evil god in New Truman... which evil god are we talking about?"

As he spoke, he held up a fourth finger. It was hard to imagine that a simple crime of passion could spiral into something so complex. Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn novel✶fire.net

"Fourth, Mr. David's body is being held at the KalFax Field morgue on the outskirts of the city. As you know, the police aren't permitted to store large numbers of corpses within the city limits; only a few critical cases are kept temporarily at the station's coroner's office. It's a precaution to prevent a repeat of the disaster from thirty years ago... But I'm getting sidetracked.

We discovered, unexpectedly, that Mr. David's eyes had been gouged out."

Jenkins immediately zeroed in on the key detail.

"No. All twenty-three bodies in that room were missing their eyes. We haven't confirmed if it was the work of some lunatic or an Enchanter gathering ritual components. It doesn't concern you, so just think of it as an interesting, if grim, piece of news."

Captain Bincy drew a long breath and exhaled slowly. "Damned cultists," he muttered, "why are they all crawling out of the woodwork now?"

After his conversation with Captain Bincy, Jenkins hurried back to ground level and made his way to the church's main hall. The bishop's sermon had already started. Ducking low, he slipped quietly through the main doors and spotted Papa Oliver near the back, wearing his glasses and looking up attentively at the pulpit.

There was an empty space on the pew beside him, where his cat, Chocolate, was curled up and dozing.

The cat's ears twitched. Seeing Jenkins approach, it hopped lightly onto the floor. Only after Jenkins had taken his seat did it leap back up and settle onto his lap.

The church was far more ornate than usual, decorated for the Reading Festival. Gold and silver ornaments hung from the pillars, and even the stained-glass windows, by some unknown technique, were now adorned with scenes from religious stories.

The main hall was silent, save for the voice of Bishop Parrold, who stood before the dark wooden pulpit.

He held a massive, gold-covered tome. His vestments were new and elaborate: a magnificent, conical cope of purple and red, worn over a red woolen shawl and scapular. A wide silk sash, its considerable length and tassels denoting his high rank, was tied at his waist. His attire was completed by a short, white linen surplice, its hem trimmed with wide lace.

On his head, he wore a mitre, the ceremonial hat worn with his vestments. It was composed of two stiff, triangular pieces of cloth, embroidered with gold thread and adorned with jewels, standing about thirty centimeters high. Two lappets streamed down his back from behind it.

A silver chain around his neck held a silver pendant shaped like a small scroll. In his left hand, he held a golden crozier, symbolizing his station and pastoral duties. On his right hand was an episcopal ring cast from a rare alloy, engraved with the sacred emblem of the Sage and the bishop's name, all outlined in gold and silver thread. This ring also served as the official seal for the diocese's most important decisions.

Even in the memories of the original Jenkins, this was the most solemn set of vestments, one the old bishop wore only on the most important holy days. As he aged, he wore the full regalia less and less frequently. Mortals, after all, had their limits.

The church, vast as it was, could never hold all the faithful of the diocese. So, every year at the Reading Festival, only a select few were permitted to hear the bishop's sermon. Most of the congregation could only follow the standard rites: venerating the sacred icons and emblems, attending the service, and receiving the blessed bread and wine distributed by the clergy.

In truth, it was just low-alcohol wine and wafers made from fine flour.

As for what qualified a believer to hear the sermon and take part in the full day of religious activities, the original Jenkins had no idea. For as long as he could remember, the devout Williams family had always been welcome to worship at the church whenever they pleased.

The rest of the Williams family was surely here today, though Jenkins hadn't spotted them yet. He had expected the day's activities to proceed without a hitch. He didn't expect that just as Bishop Parrold finished reading the second passage from the *Book of the Holy Sage*, a man named Schleicher would come hurrying through the doors.

When the man saw Jenkins notice him, he waved urgently. Jenkins paused, whispered a word to Papa Oliver, then scooped up Chocolate and slipped back outside, keeping his head low.

"It's urgent, come on!"

The bearded man was neatly dressed today, a red tie peeking out from under his white shirt. His black leather shoes, however, were clearly the wrong size, making him run with an awkward gait.

"What's wrong? I just left Captain Bincy. He didn't say anything was urgent."

"It's a message from the church leadership—it's about the gems!"

Ignoring the startled looks from the nuns they passed, the two well-dressed gentlemen hurried at a most ungentlemanly pace through the corridor to a rear hall. They nearly collided with an old man at the foot of a staircase but didn't stop to apologize, rushing instead toward the office for special items.

Rapping his knuckles on the door, Schleicher gave Jenkins a meaningful look. He didn't enter himself, gesturing for Jenkins to go in alone.

There were already three men in the office: Smith, the Keeper of Secrets; Mr. Coppola Bellini, the director of the Special Items Office; and Mr. Gaskell Peters, a 7th-level Enchanter and Miss Bevanna's assistant. Jenkins recognized him but had never spoken with him alone before.