"I have made up my mind," declared Sigerson when everyone had returned back home.
It had been two days since Mr Barrett was arrested; his fingerprints, as Evelyn had predicted, were matched with the ones found on the pale neck of the victim. There was no time lost for the news to be sent out to the entire district, claiming that the Enforcers had achieved yet another great victory, but to Sigerson, it appeared to be more like a half-hearted attempt at covering up their miserable progress in the war.
When Sigerson declared his sudden intention of going directly to the Enforcers in an attempt to help them the very next day, Evelyn, Harvey, and the Mansells all twisted their heads to glare at him, wondering if he'd just lost his sanity.
"Are you out of your mind?" demanded Evelyn, her voice rising to a shout. "You've been avoiding them this whole time and now you want to turn yourself in?"
"It's for your good and my convenience as well, Evie," said Sigerson a little defensively, addressing the room in general. "Besides, they're running out of options now, with the war draining so much of the country's resources."
"I trust your decision-making, William," said Mr Mansell sympathetically, "but this time, I really think you ought to tell Elena first before acting. You never know, this might be the final time we can talk face-to-face freely."
This piece of advice absorbed itself into Sigerson and blossomed into the picture of a flowery visualisation of Elena, her face full of energy in his mind. He sighed. For her, he could wait.
When Elena walked through the door, wondering what on earth had caused the pensive atmosphere hanging over the residence, Sigerson approached her at once, bowed his head deeply, and told her of the current situation. As he begged her to consider the choices carefully, an unexpected noise escaped her lips—she was giggling softly.
"Don't look so serious," she said lightly, embracing him warmly. "I think you should go, you know, but allow me to make my own selfish request first."
She brought her mouth to his ear and whispered, "Just make sure you return safely before dusk; I'll make you your favourite roast dinner when you're back."
Grinning widely, she bade him a safe trip, causing the others to begin forming their own conclusions about what just transpired.
Of course, now that he had Elena's approval, Sigerson delivered a letter to Grock anonymously and within an hour, received one back. It was an invitation to the Enforcers' headquarters, the lonely hell on earth where rebellious souls were tortured.
"I hope he'll forgive my past skirmish with him," mused Sigerson uneasily, gazing out into the gloomy white landscape out the window.
—
A curling grey snake slithered up an invisible tree and when it rose to the ceiling, nothing was left save for a few feeble wisps of its smoky remains. More identical grey snakes escaped the dull pipe with each exhale until a clear clunk dispelled the smoke as Grock laid down his pipe and threw a calm glance at Percy Hale, the young man standing to his side.
Grock had suspected him ever since Sigerson had escaped from the flaming train; surely it was too much of a coincidence for a murder to happen there and be solved so quickly right after his escape. Moreover, how did Sigerson manage to hide in the region without help? Someone must've helped, whether voluntarily or involuntarily. Since then, he'd promoted Percy to a captain in the Enforcers in order to keep him under close scrutiny.
When the letter from Sigerson found itself in Grock's hand, he read it aloud, shooting his newly promoted captain scanning looks. As he'd expected, Percy betrayed the smallest inkling of recognition through a flash of abated breath.
"There's no point in killing him now," murmured Grock away from the unsuspecting captain. "Not when Sigerson is willing to finally join us once again."
Even though only an hour had passed since Percy arrived in the room, summoned by Grock for unknown purposes, time felt slower than usual; the air seemed to be crushing him with uncertainty. Would Sigerson really come?
Outside of the room, a parade of marching thunks could be heard making its way up to the office, together with the footsteps of at least a dozen men.
"He's here."
At that moment, an Enforcer rapped on his door and announced from the other side, "Sigerson is here to meet you, sir."
"Let him in."
Instantly, the door burst open and the detective stepped in, apparently without concern. Behind him, the escort of a dozen Enforcers watched him enter suspiciously, as if expecting him to pull off a stunt in front of them. Grock, however, waved them off impatiently, motioned for Sigerson to take a seat and ordered Percy to stay. Percy, upon meeting Sigerson in the flesh again after months, tried his best to remain expressionless, but nevertheless, a slight twitch of his mouth gave him away.
Grock smirked.
"Well then," he began in a business-like manner, "you have voluntarily given yourself up, I presume?"
"For the meantime," smiled Sigerson, though his eyes were as hard as stone. "I have come here, as I'm sure you've read, in order to help you destroy Blight's schemes against the country. But in return—"
He waited for a reaction; Grock remained unreadable.
"I need information and also must ask you to stop hunting me down like a fugitive."
"Certainly. But how do you know you haven't walked into a trap?" asked Grock deviously, giving him a testing look.
"It doesn't matter," returned Sigerson pleasantly. "I'm sure you might've guessed my connections with a certain District official. If I don't make it back, I've instructed them to release a distasteful piece of news to expose both you and Crowne's exploits concerning the innocent murders years ago during the rebellion."
For a split second, Grock appeared to be furious, ready to lash out, but in a flash, his initial anger faded, replaced by a hearty chuckle.
"I'll accept any terms you lay down for me, Mr Sigerson, given that you assist me in every way possible."
The detective stared into the wrinkled face carefully, considering his choices.
"In that case," said Sigerson, holding out a hand. "I can start today."
"And your terms?" questioned Grock, shaking the extended hand.
"Refrain the Enforcers from hunting me and my cousin down, provide protection to those supporting us, and don't hold me back when I'm investigating—that's all I ask for."
Clapping his hands with alacrity, Grock summoned a pair of Enforcers, whispered orders into their ears, and instantly sent them away. He then wrapped his fingers around his pipe once again like a spider trapping its prey, and after lighting it, commanded Percy to take the detective back out.
"That's all for today, Mr Sigerson," he said. "Return tomorrow and we'll begin then."
SIgerson nodded stiffly before bidding him farewell.
While the two of them were marching down the halls, attracting the attention of every Enforcer present, Sigerson leaned to Percy and asked, "How's it been since we left? Is your family well?"
"Oh, we're all fine. You?"
"Me and Evie have been pretty busy for the past few months; you know, hiding from Grock and stuff."
"Looks like we'll be working together again, eh?" said Percy enthusiastically.
"I guess so."
Sigerson, lost in thought, walked ahead without realising Percy's lagging speed.
I'm sure Grock already suspected Percy; he was obviously keeping him there to confirm his suspicions. Why then didn't he act? Is Percy a spy for him now?
His thinking was rudely disrupted by the thick, foreboding steel gate sealing the exit to the lengthy dim hallway.
"Anhow," he said, putting on a grin for Percy, "we'll be seeing each other quite often in the future. If you want, you can come to visit us later perhaps?"
"Sure will," responded Percy optimistically, waving his hand. "I gotta go finish a report first but I'll be ready tomorrow."
Sigerson raised his hand as a final goodbye and was whisked away by a cab. Percy, humming brightly, returned to the brick building, its formidable iron bearings clashing fiercely against his leisurely attitude. Certainly, it would be difficult for anyone not to feel a little relieved.
They had the detective on their side.
—
A strange automobile, fitted with gleaming brass wheels and a plethora of churning gears exposed to the air, coughed weakly as its brakes were pulled, screeching loudly. Hopping off the velvet cushioning and thanking the driver briskly, an elderly man, the ancient face furrowed with worry, climbed up the imposing granite steps with a little difficulty, his long white beard flopping around under his chin. Beside him was a younger woman, helping him with every step he took while casting furtive glances at the number of guards overseeing their journey up the stairs and into the grandiose State building. From the moment they entered the cavernous domed hall, they were greeted by one of the president's assistants.
"President Arden sends you his gratitude for coming and welcomes you to Revalty, Mr Hoffman and…"
His voice trailed off, his eyebrows raised questioningly.
"Mira Hoffman, my daughter," answered the elder, patting Mira's shoulder proudly.
The assistant gave the two a confirming nod then led them to an open door.
"In here," announced the assistant, "is where the meeting will be held."
He ushered them in respectfully and shut the door behind them. A smaller, but no less magnificent, room met their eyes; beautiful patterns were etched across the earthy wooden walls, deep ruby curtains washed over the paneled windows, and an ornamental table, its legs carved into lion heads, stood in the center of the room.
After witnessing this extravagant display of wealth, the two rebels sat in their seats along the lengthy table. A man rose from his seat, shook hands with the pair before introducing the smiling advisor next to him. Blight gave a gesture of acknowledgement until his face changed and began whispering covertly to the man.
"This must be Arden," whispered Mira, tilting her hand in his direction. "His voice carries authority and his face, though hardened like a rock, is still bearing the weight of the burden of the country. It's him alright."
"Why didn't he introduce himself as the president then?"
"Dunno…"
Arden picked up one of the crystalline glasses, which were laid out at each seat regardless of the absence of the users, and tapped it lightly to get their attention. At the exact same time, dozens of other government officials, some greeting the newcomers politely and others completely ignoring them as if they were a part of the wall, flooded into the meeting, taking up the vacancies that Mira had suspected would've been filled. Blight's clear voice cut across the room, drowning out the noise.
"Now that we're all here," he said, motioning to the two rebels, "let us begin the meeting."