A City of Wax - Episode 2

-Episode Two-

~He searched the man’s body, retrieving a cheap, broken pocket watch, an empty box of snuff, and a purse containing over five thousand shillings- more than triple what he’d been paid earlier that night. Something was very wrong with this picture.~

Wax tossed the smoldering stub of his smog to the ground as he reached to unlock the door of his office. The air inside was stale and heavy with the odor of fire hearths and the puffers his neighbor was so fond of. Immediately, as he entered, Wax noticed the telltale flickering light of an open flame dancing around the corner of his office from the entry hall. The air around him was fairly warm as well. Even though his office was small, his fire hearth still took hours to warm the building, and his stove had been unlit for weeks as he’d neglected to buy any fuel for it. Wax knew for a fact he hadn’t left his hearth burning, and had extinguished all the lamps in the small building before leaving for the tavern that night. He closed the door silently and drew his revolver. He steadily pulled back the hammer, bracing his finger against the trigger and ensuring it made no sound as it caught. The door to his office room was not quite closed, and the light of the fire crept under the frame and into the entry hall. Silently, Wax pressed down firmly on the handle, silencing the hinges as he eased the door open.

His favorite high-back chair had been moved to face the crackling fire in the hearth. Wax trained his muzzle on the chair, about where a man’s head would rest, and quickly swept the room with his gaze. Immediately he noticed several things out of place. The papers on his desk, usually scattered, were now stacked neatly and set to one side. The key to his liquor cabinet hung from the lock. An ornate glass carafe of brandy sat on his desk beside a snifter filled with a healthy portion of the drink. Wax sighed and lowered his weapon, resetting the hammer and slipping it into his holster. “I’ve often questioned your taste in men, you know, but it seems I’ve underestimated the depths to which you’re willing to sink.” He said, tugging off his gloves. An airy chuckle came from behind the chair.

“And I’ve often questioned your taste in brandy. This cognac tastes like toiler exhaust.” A slender figure rose from the chair and turned to face him. Wax knew her flawless Elven face and earthy brown tresses anywhere.

“Have you considered perhaps that I might purchase finer drink if certain guests weren’t so frequently helping themselves to it while I’m not at home?” Wax asked.

“Oh come now, Weston, don’t pretend you aren’t happy to see me. Face to face that is, don’t think for a moment I didn’t see you in that alley across the road.” She drew another sip from her glass. Wax frowned.

“Eilonia, how many times must I ask you not to call me that? It’s Wax. Just Wax. Nothing more, nothing less.” He said, shedding his greatcoat. He winced as he pulled his wounded arm from the sleeve, sighing as he traced his finger around the tear in the leather. He tossed the damaged coat over the back of his desk chair.

“I’ve always thought that was a stupid nickname” Eilonia said, gazing at him over the lip of her snifter. “Wax…” she said, as if mulling over the word, “It just sounds so…” she paused momentarily as her deep green eyes settled on his bloodied arm, “…artificial.” She set her snifter down gently on the table beside her and moved to inspect his arm. The motion could scarcely be referred to as walking, however. Eilonia Melothrir did not walk; she glided.

Wax unfastened his waistcoat and tossed it onto the chair next to his greatcoat, sliding open a drawer of his desk and sifting through the contents. Eilonia gingerly tugged the blood-soaked fabric of his shirt sleeve away from the wound, examining it closely. “This is a gun shot... There are powder burns all around it.” She said, sweeping back across the room to his liquor cabinet. “Who shot you this time?”

“The city’s worst assassin” Wax said dryly as he retrieved a slender steel hook and length of thread from the drawer. “He attacked me with this.” He retrieved the man’s stuttergun from his holster and tossed it onto his desk. Eilonia returned to his side with a glass bottle of clear liquid and a rag.

“Where is he now?” she asked, soaking the rag carefully with the contents of the bottle before placing it on Wax’s desk.

“Dead.” Wax responded as he threaded a small hole at the end of the hook. Eilonia pressed the soaked rag gently against the wound, and Wax grunted. “The question now,” he continued, “is why someone wants me dead.”

Eilonia shrugged. “I don’t guess you’d make many friends in this business of yours.” She said, turning the rag over. Wax shook his head.

“It was more than that. Someone paid him to do this. I found a purse with about five thousand shillings in it on him.” He said.

“So he was hired. It still doesn’t discount my theory.” Eilonia said.

“Then why would they hire an inexperienced nobody?” Wax asked. “That man was no assassin. He may have been paid like one, but that was it. He nearly emptied his stuttergun. He carried his blood money on his person. He tried to follow me by matching my footsteps. Something isn’t adding up.” He explained. Eilonia removed the rag from his arm and placed it on his desk next to the bottle.

“All I’m saying is that people pay good money for stupid things.” She said.

“Like a sordid tryst with a seductive little minx at a run-down inn?” Wax asked. Eilonia responded by splashing his wound with the bottle. Wax clenched his jaw and hissed through his teeth. When the burning subsided, he took a healthy gulp from the snifter she’d poured for him and sank the threaded hook into the flesh of the wound. “Am I safe to assume you didn’t seduce him for his looks?” he asked.

            “First of all, I wasn’t paid. Prostitution is illegal in the city. You of all people should know that.” She began, “And second, I didn’t seduce him. He seduced me.” Wax eyed her for a moment before returning his attention to his needlework.

            “Oh, I’m sure he did. And I’m sure you had nothing to do with it. You simply wore that lovely bodice to assist your breasts in becoming better acquainted with your chin.” He said, having now stitched the wound halfway shut.

            “Believe what you will, Weston. The man never even fully undressed me. I never intended to actually bed him, though had your client and her brute arrived any sooner the entire evening would have been a complete waste.” She swept back across the room as she spoke, collecting her snifter from where she’d left it. “Fortunately he at least managed to get me stripped to my unders before they arrived, otherwise it would have looked as if we were simply having a nice chat.” She said half into her glass.

            “Care to elaborate?” Wax said, cutting the thread with a pen knife and returning the hook to the drawer.

           

“Thomas Aluvard is the head of one of the largest corporations in the city, and a noble, no less. His company is in direct competition with one of my father’s most profitable investments, and it’s no secret he intended to buy it out. However, it’s quite a shame he was just discovered attempting to seduce the daughter of his competitor while betraying his beloved wife… Such a mark on his record not only bespeaks a shocking lack of marital integrity, but a willingness to engage in such underhanded practices as seducing his rival’s daughter for personal business gain…” Eilonia explained. “I was so helpless to his advances…” she trailed off with a wry smirk on her perfect lips.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Eilonia…” Wax warned, standing from his chair.

“Oh don’t worry… His wife was so flustered that her husband had taken such shameless advantage of my trusting nature that she insisted I have this…” Eilonia produced an ornate glass vial from her pocket. A viscous, sanguine-tinted mixture filled it nearly to the neck. Wax recognized it immediately as elixir of immortality. Eilonia plucked the tiny cork from the vial and quaffed the mixture. Wax was familiar with the effects the elixirs had on Riven, though he remained fascinated with how immediately it began to show. Eilonia was practically luminous. She returned the vial to a pouch at her hip and approached him slowly. “Why so stressed, Waxxy?”

“I’m busy, Eilonia… in case you’ve forgotten, I was shot earlier this evening and I’m a little bit on-edge. I need to figure out why I was tailed.” Wax spoke firmly, keeping his cool as he remained wary of her.

“You need to relax, Weston… Take your mind off it for a while. It’s healthier.” She was standing right in front of him now. She placed her snifter on the desk next to his and gazed up at him. “Think about some other things for a while. For instance… Ever wondered how nobody really knows what happens if an Aven tastes one of those elixirs?” she asked.

“No. I haven’t.” Wax said, determined to maintain his resolve. She hooked a delicate finger around his collar and tugged him closer.

“I think there may be some left…” she said. Wax started to respond, but the voice in his head that was shouting at him to resist was immediately silenced when her lips found his. She was radiant. Brimming with life and energy, and Wax was dizzied. The lacing of her bodice slackened under his fingers before he even knew he’d reached for them.

The stuttergun, bag of shillings and pocketwatch lay on his desk. Each of them warranted its own investigation… but it could wait for now.