Bermuda

Before the two of them were pushed out through the rainwater-pooled side door, Dott casually let slip that Grimbleton’s funeral would be held formally in two days’ time.

The reason it could not be held immediately, she said, was that the Council had taken the body to determine the cause of death. Leonardo, guessing why she had mentioned the schedule at all, simply replied that he understood without promising anything.

They slipped back into the rain and hurried through the alleys with Terzio. While watching the town’s movements, they needed a safe base at a discreet distance to avoid drawing suspicion toward the outsider who had appeared the day after the death. Leonardo decided to move to a nearby village and find a little inn with few people.

Along the way, Terzio filled him in briefly on what had happened before Leonardo arrived.

“You said someone had been tailing you, so I kept watching this area. I may not have known every twitch of the old man’s life, but I noticed the town grew strange right away. If this death was the work of a particular faction, they’d likely try to remove witnesses. So I slipped into the crowd to pick up clues and met a woman named Dott. At first I only watched because of the investigators. When daylight came I hung around the restaurant and got lucky.”

Terzio said he had tried to pose as a customer to slip inside, but his eyes met Dott when she came out to dump the kitchen waste. He tried to let it pass, but Dott saw him and instantly realized he wasn’t from here.

She asked what he wanted, and when he mentioned the shop owner’s news she quietly told him to come round the back.

Shielding his face from the driving rain with his forearm, Leonardo asked in surprise, “She came to you first? Why?”

“Grimbleton expected you’d come and put the request to her. She’d notice a young outsider taking an interest in the case.”

“Still—she didn’t even know me. Why trust her?”

Leonardo felt his trust ebb at her earlier promise to keep ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ quiet. If there were other outsiders besides him and Terzio, might someone have breathed a word about the card or the envelope?

Sensing Leonardo’s anxiety, Terzio offered reassurance as if it were nothing.

“I didn’t start by saying the point outright. I kept probing, see. She said she was looking for the owner of the card, describing him as tall with sharp eyes. Since I’d heard about you beforehand, I knew at once she meant you. But she hadn’t actually seen you, so she mixed me up with you. How many tall fellows besides me would there be here?”

Terzio said it with a brazen sort of seriousness. Knowing the pretense was sincere, Leonardo didn’t bother to answer.

“After that she promised to bring you here. I didn’t hear anything else. She only said there was something to pass on to the card’s owner — I only learned earlier that the old man left those things.”

“Do you think she’s trustworthy?” Leonardo asked.

“She didn’t seem like she was lying,” Terzio said. “No reason for her to.”

Leonardo nodded. Terzio glanced at his rain-soaked, pale cheek and then casually tossed out, “Worried? Shall I kill her?”

Leonardo, about to turn and walk on, snapped his brow tight and whirled around.

“Don’t be ridiculous. What did she do wrong?”

Terzio shrugged and stared ahead, squinting slightly, then pointed with his arm somewhere.

“There.”

Leonardo followed his gaze and saw a battered two-story inn with a faded sign.

Only the rain beat the streets; nobody walked by. It looked like a risky spot, but to them it was the most comfortable place.

Without further agreement, the two of them entered the inn side by side.

The inn was far enough from the station that it did not seem a place frequented by travelers. The ground-floor taproom had few people, mostly potbellied drunks who seemed permanently soaked in drink.

After getting the key from the owner and climbing the stairs, they were greeted by the musty dust smell unique to old inns. The room had a single bed, a modest table, and two chairs. Leonardo sank into one of the chairs without delay. As he dried his clothes and hair completely, wisps of white steam rose around him.

He took the envelope and the amulet from his inner pocket and laid them on the table, then drew a dagger and began to tear open the envelope’s edge.

Terzio sat on the bed, drying his wet hair with an old towel. He shrugged off his damp clothes and remained wearing only his lower garments.

His bare torso was a map of muscles forged in combat and a lattice of scars, large and small. On his left forearm and the left lower flank of his abdomen, there were five strokes arranged into a pattern embroidered into the skin.

Leonardo had heard those marks were carved during preparations for a jailbreak. He glanced at Terzio and then dumped the contents of the envelope onto the table. The heaviest thing fell first — a ring.

“...?”

It was likely what had bulged the envelope’s surface. The engraving was delicate and the metal surface felt extremely cold; set in the center sat a red stone, like a ruby or garnet.

The gem wasn’t round but cut into a geometric shape as if carved with intent. From the outside it was impossible to tell what it signified.

“What’s that?” Leonardo asked.

“A ring.”

Terzio, having roughly dried his body, ambled over and sat opposite. He took the ring from Leonardo’s hand as if it were natural, held it up to the weak lamp light, then brought it close to his nose and inhaled.

“It smells fishy.”

“Rust?” Leonardo proposed.

“No, more like blood.”

Their gazes met briefly. People once hardened blood into jewelry; it wouldn’t be unheard of if the gem were made from actual blood.

But the key questions were why Grimbleton had left it to him and whose blood had made it.

Leonardo unfolded the enclosed letter next. His hands trembled slightly as he smoothed the creased paper; the handwriting was quite elegant.

Although not the handwriting of a man about to die — the strokes flowed smoothly — occasionally the ink smudged or the script wavered as if his hand had trembled.

Unlike his spoken manner in life, the tone of the writing was dignified. The content began in abstract terms.

I have seen the land change dozens of times, but never have I felt a premonition so strongly as this day.

It seems that a great upheaval is coming to the world.

I longed to witness the change with these eyes, but I have already lived many times the human span allotted to mortals.

Mother calls me to return.

My stubborn life and my tasks are at last drawing to an end.

By the time you read this I will no longer be in the world. Forgive my hasty departure.

My final task in this life seems connected to you, so I needed time to set things in order.

I could not send word beforehand for fear that the clock might stop the moment I called you.

Instead, Dott is one of my daughters who is especially tight-lipped; you may trust her.

Through her, I fulfill the promise I once made and complete my duty.

Do not think it is your fault that my end became entwined with you.

A knot in a long and wearisome life is a gift.

Thanks to it, I leave well entertained.

Leonardo read the lines blankly. It was a will — one without any lingering attachment to this life.

It had been a long time since he had been handed someone’s will directed at him.

He really had predicted his own death. It wasn’t murder or some external threat; he had reached the end of his life according to nature’s order.

But he says it’s connected to me?

The thought stabbed him. If Grimbleton’s death was tied to the situation around Leonardo, he would be tormented with guilt. Yet the manner of this was wholly unexpected.

A task. Everyone has burdens in life, but could such an obligation be as clear as completing a commission? And when the burden is finished, does one’s life simply end?

It sounded absurd. He dismissed it as the ramblings of the elderly — that way he could believe Grimbleton had died because his time had come, not because of anything Leonardo had done.

His golden eyes grew moist but no tears fell. The old man’s handwriting danced across the page as if unburdened; it felt like he had joyfully shrugged off his life’s task and departed.

“Sad?” Terzio asked softly, watching Leonardo’s face.

Leonardo lifted his lids dully, then shook his head.

“Just... memories.”

“......”

“Maybe he was similar to my father.”

He answered haltingly and then skimmed the final lines. The address Dott had mentioned was written there.

On the night of the full moon, bring the ring and come to the address I left.

I hope it helps you.

Starfen Gorge, the right fork beyond the Swamp of Sullen Thoughts.

The hut by the ash tree.

“What is this?” Terzio asked.

Unconsciously, Leonardo’s hand rose to his throat.

A new waypoint had just been drawn.