(Part 4 & 5)
Before I knew it, it was dark outside my window and the full moon was shining. It was a deep night, the type of night where I could hear everyone breathing as they slept around me. I quietly crept out of the house. The surroundings were engulfed in a silence so complete that even a whisper would’ve been noticeable.
The great bell that always marked the time of the country shone silently in the moonlight from its place on top of the tallest building in town. It was the church that secretly housed the headquarters of the Society Against Witches. I approached the front of the building where Meyrin was likely held with a strange calm.
I have no choice but to sneak into this building and rescue her.
The church had an annexed building that seemed to be lodging facilities for the priests and sisters: a hideout for the secret members of the Society. I dimly recalled the things Meyrin had told me about it, long ago. To think that place was a church…
Given that there was a witch held prisoner inside, it was a safe assumption that guards would be in patrol that night. I had to try my hardest to avoid being seen and find the room where Meyrin was held. The big door at the front that lead into the chapel looked like it would creak loudly if I tried to pry it open. I didn’t have the guts to brazenly enter through that door.
I pretended to be loitering around drunkenly in the middle of the night and made my way to the back of the church as nonchalantly as I could. There, I found a cozy little door that seemed to lead into the kitchens.
If I enter through here…
Just in case, I made sure that no one else was nearby, then I used an opening spell on the lock. For a spell of that level, I didn’t need to make an offering of blood.
“Aperir (open!)”
There was something odd. Even though the unlocking spell should’ve worked perfectly, there was no reaction whatsoever. Maybe since it was a service entrance to the stronghold of the Society, magic as feeble as mine wasn’t enough to open it, even with a key. As I began to despair, I tried pulling the door handle: the door opened easily with a slight creak.
It hadn’t been locked at all from the start.
For me, it was a very convenient development; at the same time, it sparked an indescribable anxiety inside of me. To overcome that anxiety, as I stepped inside the church I told myself that a servant girl as clumsy as me had probably forgotten to lock it.
The first room I entered served as a kitchen. Large cauldrons and foodstuff glowed pale white, garbed in the moonlight coming in through the window. I could sense a faint aroma coming from the inside of a large pot: probably dregs of the soup made hours ago. I took one of the knives placed neatly over the table and calmly sliced my finger. Then, just like when I pursued the thief, I drew a circle at my feet with my blood and placed the romance novel I had been hiding inside an inner pocket of my clothes in the dead center of it.
“Pactum et ritus. Please, lead me to the owner of this book.”
The table, chairs and piled-up foodstuffs began to clatter as they shook lightly. It wasn’t too big of a ruckus, but since I was in a situation where I wanted to maintain absolute stillness, it made me nervous.
Please, please be quiet…
I don’t know if my prayer was heard or not, but a comparatively small sylph appeared and immediately landed on the palm of my hand.
“I’m counting on you.”
In response to my whispered words, the mischievous faerie smiled complacently.