"It's an amulet! Used to sit on a little cushion in the window of Ancientries and Wonders. Sterling silver, sparkled like a star, fine piece of work. On one side there was a waning crescent moon, and in the middle there was a dark crystal, like it was eclipsing the moon. Fylleman Frullatos, the old man who owned the shop, he was so proud of that thing, he used to say, 'I'll never sell that amulet! It's the jewel of my collection.' ...I used to go to that place, look at all the things there are in the world, until I inevitably got chased off. People used to claim the amulet was powerful, but who knows...anyway, what'd be the use of nickin' a piece like that! Try to go to a fence with it, you'd have the whole guard on your tail faster'n happened during the botched job!"

"Everyone knew how you coveted the Moon, Woljif. Did you think you could swipe it in the confusion and keep it for yourself? That we'd all be locked up, and you'd be free to laugh at us over your pretty trinket?"

"Sure, it's pretty, but it ain't that pretty. I'd be an idiot to assume everyone'd get caught--and look! You didn't! Look, if it's that important to you, I'll find the real traitor, and I'll drag him here by his horns. But you're going to owe me an apology, after all this is said and done!" 

Sister Kerismei gazes at him through narrowed eyes, then flicks her eyes to Lusilla's incongruous cheer, Camellia's ominous half-smile, and...whatever that thing with the bow and arrows is. 

(They made Daeran wait in the stairwell where Kerismei wouldn't have immediate line of sight.)

"Fine," she decides after weighing the risks. "You're one of my people, so I'll give you a chance to clear your name. But if you run, Brother Woljif, we will find you. You know we will. You will never be able to escape the Family. Every moment until we catch you, you'll be looking over your shoulder, wondering if this meal will be poisoned or that bed will be the site of an ambush. And when we get you...you'll wish the demons had gotten you here. Do you understand me?"

"Crystal clear, Sister Kerismei." 

Once they've made it back outside, he slumps against the building. "Whoof. That could have gone worse." 

"How do you expect to find the informant?" Lusilla has...mixed feelings about turning someone over to the nonexistent mercy of organized crime, for going to Irabeth. 

"Well. The whole operation was top secret. We got a scroll that would neutralize Old Man Fylleman's security golem, and that's when the serious planning began. It was me, Kerismei, Dalna, Doffie, Melroun, Tavie, and Varnir. Nobody else new about it. It was so secret we couldn't even case the joint, in case somebody got suspicious!"

"Could one of them have told a loved one?" 

Woljif makes a so-so gesture. "If Sister Kerismei says you don't talk, you don't talk. It's not impossible, but...if it's true, we've got no way of knowing. And nobody not directly part of the Family will be findable by now, probably."

"Is it possible that Kerismei did it?" 

"I sure hope not. I don't know what she'd get out of it, and if it's her word against anyone else's with the rest of the Family--we're fucked." 

Lusilla worries her lip. "If we do identify the informant, is there any chance Kerismei won't kill them?" 

"...Not...in a way that's preferable."

"Joy. Okay. If we could pull it off, would killing her solve anything?"

"No," Woljjif says immediately. "That wasn't an empty room, you know. Anything happens to Kerismei, I am the perfect target to pin the blame on to the rest of the Family, right now." 

That's--kind of a relief; Lusilla doesn't like killing people.

"Sorry you ended up hanging out with a crowd that can just accuse you of things and then murder you whenever." 

Incredulous snort. "You think the law's any better?" 

"I think Irabeth is!" 

"Granted. But she ain't everywhere. And Norgorber help you if the Inquisition looks at you funny."

"...I'm so glad I'm a scary starfish thing," Lusilla grumbles. 

"Yeah, well, we ain't all so lucky." 

Finally, Woljif says something Lann can agree with. 

Whine whine WHINE can we stop talking about how grotesque people are and go kill something. 

(She doesn't say this out loud, but she's thinking it at the top of her lungs.)

"Right, sorry. Is there any chance one of the others is secretly a demon cultist, and we can throw them to the wolves?"

"In this city? There's always a chance. You'd've expected--well...I guess they could be scared enough of Sister Kerismei to not have run off to cause havoc like all the rest." He thinks this over. "Yeah, that could happen. Finding out's a whole different story, though."