The Hand That Mocked Them

(yeah, go ahead!)

They arrived at the inn as night was falling. Hieronymus stirred; he'd been dozing under the blanket.

Kivvien steered the cart to the stables behind the inn, telling the homunculus to remain hidden from the stable boy until Kivvien could get a room.

He did so as best he could, hunkering down in one corner of the cart.

Kivvien paid the stable boy and went inside to secure a room.

Meanwhile, the stable boy untethered the mule from the cart and led it to a stall.

Hieronymus kept very still, listening for when Kivvien came back.

The stable boy moved around a bit, then began poking around in the cart, not digging too deep, but looking curiously at the things within.

Hieronymus tensed. He wouldn't dare intervene unless the boy came too close to the demon.

The boy was poking at the covering over the demon.

Hieronymus began to growl in as close an imitation of a dog as he could muster.

The boy froze, then scampered off.

Kivvien returned a few minutes later. He wordlessly picked up the demon and the pile of blankets with Hironymus inside and carried them through the fairly quiet inn, to the room he had rented.

"Is the coast clear?" Hieronymus whispered.

"Yes, stay here, I need to retire be the necessary supplies."

He dipped his head and slid out of the blanket.

The corpse was on the floor, still wrapped up.