Assistant Chief Inspector Delft raised his eyes from Mireya’s report.
“Do I understand correctly?” he asked. “You gave a woman’s soul to demons?” He had that look on his face, the one that Aleric called “constipated”.
“Devils, actually. Minor devils, imps to be precise. Rather fascinating creatures, if you see my diagram here of their wing structure…” Mireya paused as she looked at Delft's annoyed face and put away her personal journal. “But she is legally dead, so…”
“It could have been worse,” Gruul added. “Uraesco wanted to give them the niece’s soul, and she’s still alive.”
Delft glared at Const. Daecer. “Well,” he said, “we’ll let the experts figure out if you’ve committed murder. I suppose it’s partly my fault for not sending a cleric with you.”
He resumed reading. “All threats were neutralized?” he asked.
“Yes,” Mireya replied, “except for the ogre zombie in the kitchen.”
“It’s all right,” Uraesco interjected. “It hasn’t been bothering anyone.”
“Ogre… Did you at least tie it up, or handcuff it?” asked Delft. He was starting to sound exasperated.
“Not exactly,” said Mireya, “but it didn’t seem to want to leave the room.”
Delft sighed. “Well, I don’t know what else I could have expected. Fine. I’ll submit your report to the probate court, and you, Constables, should pray to the gods that this is the last you hear of it.”