《August Agency (a PGTS fanfiction)》 Chapter 1: Not the Raven Queen Month 11, Day 30, 7:00 AM Marie On the ground floor of a sharply narrow, three story building¡ªwhich was little more than three large rooms stacked one on top of each other and sandwiched between larger buildings¡ªrested the office of the August Agency. At an ebonized oak table in that office, sitting on a plain wooden stool with her feet almost dangling, and in front of cheap wooden partition, Marie waited for clients. Marie dyed her black hair with a still blacker dye, making the shoulder length sheet of smooth straight hair appear like dark and shimmering-like crow feathers. She painted her lips lampblack and her eyelids a dark charcoal. She carefully lined her eyes with black cosmetic pencil, and she kept her nails painted with a shiny black lacquer. Marie also dressed in black clothes: her long-sleeved knee-length dress was as black as she could afford. She wore tall black oilcloth boots that covered her legs up to the knee. Altogether, this overwhelmingly black aesthetic set off her otherwise warm skin color; giving her a near bone-white appearance. Surely, this obsession with black would represent a depressed soul. However, aside from looking like the least welcoming girl in all of Gilbratha, Marie cultivated positive personality. For instance, she would smile at all the potential clients. She would greet the prospective client¡¯s warmly. For her, this wasn¡¯t all that different than the day-time work at the massage parlor, except, first, she was working in Verdant Stag territory and not over in the Morrows¡¯, and, second, she didn¡¯t get the occasional sense that a patron was interested in her. Ick. Marie also had a few items that she kept as a secretary here that she didn¡¯t at the Massage Parlor. She kept an account book (also black) on the table, with a crow feather quill resting in a bottle of iron gall. She also kept a clean stack of white paper for correspondence, and receipts, if the need arose. And, finally, She had a metal box in the corner, where she would be particularly careful to take the client¡¯s money and keep it safe from Mr. Poe - the thaumaturge, investigator, and owner of the August Agency. He would otherwise spend it needlessly on books and helping poor people. She also had a thick book she was currently reading: Prim¡¯s Primer, Vol. 1. It was big, and heavy, and bit of a lift for a girl who was perennially a head shorter than girls her own age. Poe had directed her to study the book when no clients were in the office, which was most of her day, and they had a lesson every lunch and dinner. He said it was to make her a better employee, because it had lessons on writing, geometry, life drawing, music, and abstract board games. She wasn¡¯t sure why the last two mattered, but he insisted these were necessary and useful skills she could not do without. So, when the middle-aged gentlemen entered the office only moments after it opened, Marie smiled and put aside the Primer. ¡°Good morning sir! Welcome to The August Agency ! How can I help you today?¡± Dark complexion with a hint grey hair at his temples and subtle wrinkles at his eyes, the man wore the distinctive hobbed boots that clearly showed that he was a copper of some sort. Marie did not know the uniforms well enough to say what his rank was, but she always felt a little uneasy around coppers. This one stopped and stood entirely still as soon as he saw her. For an uncomfortable moment, his eyes bore into her. ¡°Who are you?¡± He demanded. ¡°Marie.¡± ¡°Has anyone told you that you look like Siobhan Naught?¡± ¡°No.¡± Marie lost her smile. The copper kept looking, but must have decided not to press the issue. ¡°Quite right, too young, and too pale. Looks like Mr. Poe got himself a secretary.¡± ¡°Can I help you?¡± ¡°Mr. Poe in? I¡¯ll just walk on back, shall I?¡± And the fellow walked around the partition. Marie thought that was a little presumptuous, but perhaps Frank Poe knew him. Frank certainly had contacts with the Westbays and law enforcement. She heard their conversation perfectly clearly. The partition didn¡¯t even go all the way to the ceiling. ¡°Good Morning Frank. It¡¯s been a busy night, and I was wondering if you want to do a little divination job for us? We¡¯re paying 20 Gold for a solid lead, and 5 gold if you¡¯ll just come out and consult with any scrying aid you can give us.¡± On the other side of the partition Marie gasped. Twenty gold! that was almost a three full months¡¯ rent. Then she thought about it; the pay was a fraction of the full reward for Naught. Cheapskates. ¡°Calder. No divination.¡± Frank replied. ¡°No scrying. Don¡¯t you remember? Gives me a headache. I told you the last time you were here.¡± Marie suppressed an eye roll. Of course the copper doesn¡¯t remember, Marie thought. Very few people could remember the details of a conversation with Frank Poe. She was an exception, but she didn¡¯t know why. Poe explained his curse to her once, at least as well as he understood it. People would remember him, but not remember meeting him. ¡°Well, ok, a job then. The Raven Queen ¡ª Siobhan Naught ¡ª made an appearance down from here; she was seen at a warehouse the Stags were setting up. I¡¯ve been authorized to pay local diviners to come down and see if they can tell us anything about her.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a diviner; I¡¯m a detective.¡± Frank protested. She¡¯d had enough of that. Frank needed work. She needed him to work. They almost hadn¡¯t made rent last month, and Marie had to pay some of her completely-legitimate-and-not-at-all-embezzled funds to the landlord¡¯s drop box. Marie stood up and stalked around the partition into Frank¡¯s office. His office behind the partition was its usual mess. Books overflowed the shelves which went from floor to ceiling on all four sides, including in front of the windows. His writing desk had books piled on and around it, both for lack of space on the shelves and because Frank tended to pull a book off the shelf then set it on the floor after he looked at it. There were some cushioned armchairs in front of the desk, but Frank sat in a plain wooden ladder-back chair across from the standing officer. Frank himself was quite striking, with short reddish-brown tea colored hair, and mismatching eye color: one orange, one blue. This was aside from his clothes. As usual, Frank dressed in a brightly-colored suit decorated with an open pattern of yellow, red, and orange flowers and a lemon-yellow shirt. People should recall Frank Poe on the sheer volume of color he wore, but Marie knew otherwise. Still, none of that would matter if he didn¡¯t take on work. ¡°Frank Poe.¡± She scolded him. ¡°You will take this fine officers¡¯s case, or I will quit. And then no one will remember you.¡± Frank raised his eyebrows at her tiny black-trimmed fury. The officer seemed bemused. ¡°Fine.¡± Frank turned to the officer. ¡°Leave your information with Marie here. Make sure you get a receipt.¡± This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. As Marie lead Calder back around the partition, he was already beginning to show the signs of the curse taking hold. At first, he just seemed distracted. ¡°Wait here for a moment.¡± Marie told him, while she drafted up a receipt. By that point, the curse had taken full effect. There was a confused look in his face; like he¡¯d walked into a room to pick up something, but had forgotten why he¡¯d come in the room at all. Just as she finished, the officer finally began speaking. ¡°So,¡± the officer began, ¡°My name is Lieutenant Robards, I was wondering if I could commission some work from Mr. Poe. Is he in?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve already asked that.¡± Marie replied. ¡°I have?¡± ¡°Yes. Please read this receipt.¡± She handed him the receipt. He read the receipt, and his face seemed to lose its confusion. As he was reminded in the note, he remembered the conversation with Poe. ¡°Of course. This must happen to everyone? How do you cope?¡± ¡°It¡¯s never affected me.¡± Marie replied. ¡°Right. Well, remind Frank that I need him down to the station in about an hour to help with the divination.¡± As the copper was on his way out, another man swept into the room. Much too clean to be a local, too practically dressed to be a noble, and too arrogant to be a clerk or some sort of copper. He seemed likely to be a Thaumaturge. He had black hair, tied at the nape of his neck, and a slightly unkempt beard. Marie greeted and smiled at this man too. She was the best secretary. The dark-haired man gazed over his severe nose, and haughtily scrutinized her carefully. He raised one eyebrow. Marie¡¯s smile grew brittle. ¡°This ¡­ office, is where I would find the best non-prognos diviner and detective in the city?¡± ¡°Yes, sir!¡± Marie replied. ¡°Who told you a fool thing like that?¡± Called the voice of Frank Poe over the partition. ¡°Perhaps I¡¯ve come to the wrong investigator ¡­¡± ¡°No sir! Frank Poe is the best!¡± Silent, the black haired man examined her. He seemingly reviewed the all-black attire, her thin arms and legs, black hair, and her oaky-brown eyes. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to be the Raven Queen?¡± ¡°Not the Raven Queen sir!¡± ¡°I see.¡± The man replied quietly. ¡°Would you like an appointment, sir?¡± Marie asked. ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous Marie! Send Professor Lacer back here immediately!¡± Frank called. As far as Marie knew, Frank couldn¡¯t see anything from the other part of the one-room office except his bookcases and the back of the partition. This Professor Lacer carefully examined Marie for another moment, and then stepped around the partition. He must have cast some sort of spell, because she didn¡¯t hear his conversation with Frank. After a few minutes, he stepped back around the partition. ¡°Sir, did Mr. Poe agree to take your case?¡± ¡°No so much a case, as an errand.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you talked about the fee?¡± ¡°I will compensate him fairly. You need not worry.¡± Marie felt herself flush. It was always difficult to explain the next part, especially when the client was as arrogant as this Professor seemed to be. ¡°Professor, sir, Mr. Poe is a powerful diviner but there is a side effect to his power; clients find that they forget that they¡¯ve met him. I must insist that we put your agreement with him in writing.¡± ¡°I am well aware of his ¡®curse.¡¯ He was a student, and very nearly received his Master¡¯s certificate at the University. It will not effect me. Nevertheless ¡­¡± Lacer carefully took paper from the table, held it in his left hand for a moment, a glittering gem and beast core in his right, and after a moment of concentration passed her a receipt. On it was written: Commission to The August Agency - discover a method to contact Siobhan Naught and arrange a meeting. Pay commensurate with difficulty. - Lacer ¡°Thank you for your patronage!¡± Marie smiled brightly. She¡¯d had actively-cast magic explained to her before, but this was nothing like what she¡¯d seen before; where was his circle? Components? Mille, a friend of hers and, well, a prostitute, had once shown her a glamorizing spell. Now, Marie wondered if she¡¯d understood how magic was done at all. Lacer strode out. Marie carefully took her copy of the receipts, noted them in her black book, and then put the copies receipts in a mostly empty box next to the table. If past practice was any consideration, Poe would be leaving soon to start work. She¡¯d honestly never seen him cast a spell, but he was undeniably good at the tasks he set himself to. She¡¯d never seen him fail in an investigation. Not that there were many. Just as Poe rounded the partition, a short haired blond woman, perhaps only four or five years older than Marie, entered. She had the clear eyes and haughty look, but not the clothes, for a full journeyman Thaumaturge. Probably, Marie guessed, an apprentice or student at the University. Marie smiled again, and tried her greeting. This was an unusually busy morning! If she could keep Poe on task, this might be the most work he¡¯d had in weeks. Poe, however, seemed unable to keep himself from giving a bad impression. ¡°I suppose you are here at the behest of a professor?¡± Poe snapped. ¡°I am, ¡­ yes, my advisor sent me to ¡­¡± The blond was slightly off her stride, a furrow of surprise creased her face for a microsecond. Marie also noticed that she looked exhausted, like she¡¯d spent most of the night awake. ¡°Ask me to work on divining the location of the Siobhan Naught, or otherwise get in contact with her?¡± Poe barreled on through the conversation without letting the woman finish. The blond¡¯s composure was definitely cracked by Poe¡¯s certainty. ¡°Well, yes. We think that ¡­¡± ¡°She can be contacted through the Verdant Stag, because she fought for them last night and was seen with Lord Stag.¡± ¡°Uh. Yes.¡± ¡°Fine. Give your name to Marie.¡± Frank waved his hand in Marie¡¯s general direction. He put on his smoked orange colored glasses to hide his heterochromia, then deftly shrugged on a calf-length blue coat embroidered with orange, black, and silver koi and walked most of the way through the slightly ajar door. He turned, just as he went to close it. ¡°Or don¡¯t. If you want to remain secretive about it, I don¡¯t know. But, if Marie doesn¡¯t give you a receipt, you¡¯ll forget we spoke.¡± He sucked in a breath through his nose. ¡°And that will be awkward in a couple of days when you come back and ask for me to do the same thing.¡± With this, he pulled the door closed. Marie smiled as sweetly as she could at the blond woman. But, internally, Marie was horrified. There was no way this apprentice would continue with the commission after that display of rudeness. The blond, however, stared at the door for a moment and then turned to Marie. Marie looked expectantly at the blond. The blond looked back. Marie raised an eyebrow. The blond sighed. ¡°You are wearing a lot of black.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Marie replied. The blond smoothed her brow with her hand. ¡°Has anyone asked if you ¡­¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Okaay. I guess you aren¡¯t old enough anyway ¡­ I am ¡­ here to ask if Mr. Poe can take up a commission. Is he available?¡± ¡°You just saw ¡­ missed him.¡± Maybe she could recover this disaster. Marie glared at the closed door. Poe was always doing that! ¡°It¡¯s a confidential commission, so ¡­ can I get an appointment?¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Marie had seen the curse work quickly, but that was unbelievably quick. ¡°You just gave us the commission ¡­ Don¡¯t you remember?¡± ¡°I ¡­ I did?¡± ¡°Yes. You did.¡± Marie cheerfully weathered the apprentice¡¯s skeptical glare. ¡°Ok. Let¡¯s say that I did. You would be able to tell me what commission was.¡± The blond seemed sure that she would triumph in this obvious ruse to trick her. Marie rolled her eyes and took up the challenge. ¡°You are here for Mr. Poe to investigate how to contact Siobhan Naught?¡± ¡°That¡¯s ¡­ that¡¯s right.¡± She must have been more used to mind-altering spells or something, because she rebounded quickly. ¡°Ok. So, what now?¡± The blond slouched a bit in defeat. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a receipt. Two Crowns per day plus expenses. How can I contact you?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll return in a week, and you can tell me Mr. Poe¡¯s progress.¡± ¡°Can you pay a week¡¯s retainer?¡± The blond nodded, and paid Marie the 14 Gold. Marie took another clean sheet of paper and wrote out a receipt with the details, which she gave to the apprentice before she left. Marie put half the money in the lock box and kept the other half. Marie hoped Mr. Poe knew what he was doing. Naught was a dangerous criminal after all. Chapter 2: A raven queen Month 11, Day 30, 7:30 AM Frank Poe Frank Poe left his office and took a right to begin the long trudge up from his ground floor office, up the building¡¯s stairs, setting out for the roof. When Frank first started this detective agency, he had always consulted a a Raven Oracle before he took a case. Then, he¡¯d found Marie. She insisted he take more cases. Frank found it very nearly upsetting that a mere thirteen-year old had a mind as sharp as an obsidian scalpel, was tough as a steel safe, and had will so clear and forceful you could practically feel it in the air around her. If he¡¯d taught her how to channel magic, he was entirely sure she could channel a dozen thaums into her first spell. Some people just had talent. But. Ought she learn magic? And, ought he teach her magic? He¡¯d come out of the Retreat at Willowdale just a year ago. He could have stayed; his family might have wanted him to. He was ¡­ not cured, exactly, but he still had the Will sufficient to continue magic. The healers let him keep his journeyman certificate. On the other hand, he¡¯d was unsure if he¡¯d ever return to studying free casting. He was still young for a thaumaturge; he would heal. Probably. In their private conversation, Professor Lacer seemed to know Frank Poe was considering an apprenticeship for Marie. Lacer had called him an idiot. But Lacer implied that he also was considering an apprentice, and Frank couldn¡¯t have been more shocked. Everyone knew Lacer would never take an apprentice. Whoever they were, they must have been an exceptional talent. In contrast, Professor Lacer never showed any fondness for Frank Poe as a student. As a matter of fact, Frank had been surprised that Lacer thought to ask him to find a way to contact this new ¡°Raven Queen.¡± That Frank was worthy of some sort of employment from Lacer made him feel oddly satisfied. Frank had only been visited by a few of his former classmates and friends while at Willowdale Retreat, and all of them stopped coming in short order. Too much of a reminder of the dangers of will strain and experimental magic. Lacer¡¯s presence was an enigma, because he had never visited. But, none of that would change the way Frank worked. He wasn¡¯t a normal detective. He didn¡¯t look for ¡°clues¡± or ¡°follow¡± suspects. He considered himself a detective of the gestalt. People would come to him and ask him about the details. But, everyone was a part of everything. Seeing the big picture would help him find the details, which would pay the bills. Clients didn¡¯t want to know the whole picture. But, for Poe, examining the larger pattern was essential to getting to the truth. His cases were like a painting; each stroke followed another, cause and effect until the painting was complete. Another way to look at it was, by twisting the lines of cause and effect backward, if one just immersed themselves in the picture they could see how the picture had been painted in the first place. But, to see a picture you needed to look at it first, and to do that, Frank had a method. It took a little trial and error, but after Willowdale, normal divination magic was just too hard anyway. Thus, Frank always consulted with the raven he called Frigg before taking cases. He called her Frigg, because she was the name of an ancient Queen, and this raven was the most royal bird he¡¯d ever known. He climbed the three flights of curving and twisting stairs, which had their own niche in the back of the building. He trudged past the his apartment above his office, the empty apartment above that, into the attic, and he eventually shimmied through the roof hatch. It was here, on the cool and gently sloping metal roof, that he would consult with his own queen of ravens. Magic could have brought Frigg to him. After all, ¡°summoning¡± magic was possible if you knew how to manipulate fate. Frank could do it. But Frank also disliked it. Like weather magic, if you brought rain to a farmer in one place, were you taking water from somewhere else? What if those distant farmers needed rain more badly than your farmer? Cycles of growth, cycles of death, and cycles of fate; Frank learned from bitter experience: they weren¡¯t for messing with. Likewise, Frank had been told ¡°luck¡± magic did not exist, but he knew putting the thumb on the scale of probability could be done in any number of ways. Not the least of which was to simply be prepared to find luck when you saw it. And when it came to the Raven Oracle, Frank had found Frigg would always arrive when she was supposed to. Best not think too carefully about how it worked, because if you did, it might not work at all. He meditated for a moment. He defocused his eyes and just let himself be: feeling his breath, seeing motion of the sky, smelling the sour air of the Mires. Up there, in the cold wind, he communed with the flow of the city. Spreading his will out lightly to feel it: the mice in the apartments, the pigeons wandering the roofs, and the people trudging along the streets below. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Frank found his gaze settling down the street at the colorful green ribbon on the street corner. The thaumaturge who had set those up was just scratching the surface of connection; but their will had been clear and strong and the ribbons were becoming an important part of the pattern near him. The roots of a new tree of fate hung below that ribbon, and the branches were growing up, up, up to the sky. There were voices calling to him up there. Inhaling sharply, he eased away from the leaves and branches of fate. He would not allow a relapse. That was the way of madness: hearing the whispers again, catatonic, unable to control himself or the hallucinations. Instead, he turned his meditation to his offering. He needed to give Frigg a good clear offering for this case given to him in threes: Coppers, Grandmaster Lacer, and the probable professor who sponsored that blond girl. This last was definitely trouble. The blonde had covered her arm¡¯s injury with her coat, but there was an obvious bandage. If it hadn¡¯t been for her student token tucked away in a pocket, Frank would have thought she was with a criminal element. Not the Stags, presumably, but if what the copper said was correct? The Morrows wouldn¡¯t be well pleased with Siobhan Naught. Lacer¡¯s interest surprised Frank. Lacer was like a lodestone; he unconsciously bent fate around himself all the time. Even his mild interest showed that something big was happening in the Gilbratha. And the Coppers. That made some sense, Frank reckoned. Frank was sure Tidus Westbay, was well embarrassed. Frank didn¡¯t have a close association with the nominal head of the coppers, but they must have been getting desperate if they were inviting local thaumaturges to join in a ritual divination. One would think the University was a better choice. The whole search seemed like a bit much, though, for just some academic artifact. Frank thought the innovation of ancients was rarely as innovative as people thought. If, however, Frank could find the connections, then he might see the whole picture. And if he did, he might understand what was going on. At that point, he hoped answering his clients questions would be trivial. At least Marie would be happy that they would make some money. Turning his thoughts back to the task at hand: Who was Siobhan Naught? What did she want? Why was she given the name, Raven Queen? What would represent her best? Frigg liked her offerings to be different each time, but Frank had figured out the trick of it. He needed to give a gift that represented the case; or in this instance, cases. So, if Siobhan Naught was a ¡°Raven Queen,¡± then to ask about her, Frank would have to give Frigg a kind of symbol of who a raven queen would be. Alone, a raven was a creature of the dawn and dusk: a competitive gatherer of things that was also proud and social.A Queen of ravens would be attracted to something valuable, and maybe something to represent her cleverness. Siobhan Naught was a thaumaturge; everyone agreed on that.Poe sifted through the pockets in his coat and found something that suited this new Raven Queen. On roof, Frank kept an iron bowl. In it he offered the gold nib from a pen. Frank sat patiently. Frigg would come, drop a gift, answer a question, and take the offering. Hopefully. When Frigg left without taking the offering behind in the bowl, Frank reckoned that was inauspicious. That had happened a few times before. When he¡¯s hired Marie, Frigg left a cracked monocle for him but refused to take what he had offered, which was a black ribbon. Of course, he could have gotten the offering wrong. Asking an oracle a question was not entirely reliable or easy. Still, If she¡¯d really disapproved, Frank reckoned she would have taken the monocle back, even if she didn¡¯t take his offering. But Frigg did not control him; he¡¯d hired Marie anyway. Augury could only take his decision-making so far. One couldn¡¯t abandon judgement. Like usual, it didn¡¯t take long for Frigg to arrive. Gliding on iridescent black wings, over the roofs and chimneys, she landed next to Frank like a kiss on a lover¡¯s cheek. She gave the little golden nib in the iron bowl an unblinking glare. Frigg did, indeed, have something wedged in its beak. She hopped over to Frank, and dropped a smooth black stone. The Raven didn¡¯t always have something to exchange, but what she did leave was rarely as mundane as a rock. Frank resisted the urge to pick up the stone; the bargain wasn¡¯t complete. Frigg hopped back to the boat, then worried the little golden nib with her beak, tossing it up and down and letting it fall and making the little iron bowl ring softly. Frank watched her, unmoving. He did not want to upset her. ¡°So, what do you think Frigg? Do I go looking for the Raven Queen?¡± Frank asked conversationally. Frigg looked at him with one eye, then turned her head and looked at him fully with the other eye. Frank knew that she was the wisest raven he¡¯d ever met, but she still didn¡¯t talk. Mostly. After a few moments of seeming contemplation, Frigg regally nodded her bill once.This done, she picked up the nib piece and flew off toward the Mires. Frank reckoned that the nodding and taking the golden nib meant yes. Marie had insisted that he take the case; now, he knew that he must. The raven took something, but she¡¯d also left something intriguing behind: a polished black stone. Frank carefully picked up the stone she¡¯d left. He laid it flat on his palm, then brought it close to examine it. It was perfectly smooth, and glimmered with an inner light that became a star when he held it up, even in the overcast early morning. A black star sapphire. Frigg had never brought him anything that valuable before. As he gazed into the depths of it, he felt for a moment that he couldn¡¯t breathe. Heart racing and his own breath choking him, whispers without sound flooded his thoughts, and swirls of silvery white lines blinded. ¡­ Some time later, he found himself curled up next to the iron bowl. It didn¡¯t feel like he¡¯d lost a lot of time. Just enough to dry the tears. They had left salty tracks over his face. The black star sapphire had fallen from his fingers and rested in the crook of his arm. Carefully sitting up, he took out a pure white square of cloth and used it to pick up the sapphire; he folded the sapphire into it, and he tucked it into one of inner pockets of his colorful koi-decorated overcoat. He dug through his pockets and found a handkerchief to scrub his face. Shame he hadn¡¯t collected the tears; the tears of madness could be a pretty useful spell component. He scooted carefully off the roof, back down through the little hatch, and down the twisting stairs to the office. Chapter 3: Magic is not even a little bit safe Month 11, Day 30, 8:00 AM Marie When Frank came back to the office Marie perked up. She¡¯d known he¡¯d go to the roof. There was some sort of magic involved; he called it ¡°consulting the Raven Oracle.¡± But, she hadn¡¯t seen him do it yet. ¡°You look terrible.¡± Marie observed. And he did. His face was smudged with dirt on one side, and his eyes were bloodshot. ¡°Thank you Marie. You look like an evil witch out of a Myrddin story.¡± Frank replied. Marie decided that Frank was in a mood. He continued. ¡°Now, we have to head off to the Coppers, because someone was too nosey to stay her desk.¡± ¡°Table.¡± ¡°Whatever. Come with me, and pick up that chest.¡± ¡°What ¡­ chest?¡± Marie asked. Before Frank Poe pointed it out to her in that moment, Marie had never noticed. A painted wooden chest sat beside the wall of the room, resting next to the iron lockbox. The simple chest might have been mistaken for a carpenter¡¯s tool box if it wasn¡¯t for the enchantments that covered it. It looked heavy. With wooden inset handles on either end, you could only carry it with two hands. It seemed to be just barely a step above a crate; Marie could see the black nailheads keeping the box together. ¡°That one.¡± Frank smiled and pointed. ¡°It¡¯s not as heavy as it could be, but you¡¯re not as strong as you should be. Grab it, and follow me.¡± Marie grimaced. She was not going to complain. When she picked up the box, it was surprisingly light. She¡¯d see if that lasted; if Poe expected her to walk all the way to the nearest copper station, this was going to be a long trip. And, for as long as she¡¯d known him, Poe walked everywhere. To her surprise, however, Poe called a cab. He loaded the box himself and gestured for her to join him inside. ¡°How much do you know about divination?¡± He asked as they set out. ¡°Well, they make the girls at some of the pleasure houses sign a blood print vow. My friend Mille, one of the ladies, told me that they can¡¯t run away. It¡¯s something to do with divination. Although, I¡¯ve heard that blood magic is illegal.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Poe frowned when Marie mentioned Millie, her prostitute acquaintance. They had discussed Mille before; Marie told Poe about what she¡¯d learned from her. Marie wasn¡¯t sure if Poe disapproved of Mille teaching Marie, Millie¡¯s employment, or that Mille was an unlicensed thaumaturge. At the parlor, Millie could cast a glamour for patrons that wanted to look a little bit more attractive for a few hours, and they used this service on some of the more homely employees. Even though she wasn¡¯t a regular employee, Millie herself needed it. Her hairlip kept her from the usual sort of beauty that would attract the better paying customer. At least, Marie was thankful that Poe wasn¡¯t one of those people that seemed interested in the pleasure houses. She¡¯d never have worked for him if he appeared to be taking advantage. He also didn¡¯t seem to drink, take potions, visit bars, gamble, or engage in any vices at all. It was one of the reasons Marie wasn¡¯t too worried about her employer trying anything. In fact, Poe was so adverse to physical contact, she wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d seen Poe even shake someone¡¯s hand. He continued, ¡°Those contracts use blood, because blood is the the easiest way to track a person using scrying or divination. I imagine they somehow got a bit of blood from Siobhan Naught, and we¡¯re going to help the official diviners find her.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that ¡­ illegal? It¡¯s blood magic!¡± Marie announced, putting forward the persona of a completely naive teenager who was not-at-all-familiar with slimy streets of Gilbratha. Poe looked at her suspiciously. ¡°Are you being sarcastic?¡± ¡°A little.¡± Marie shrugged. ¡°Is there anything a copper can¡¯t do?¡± ¡°Oh yes. The Red Guard has banned many types of magic, and the the Crowns forbid plenty more. Many types of divination are blood magic, and you need a license. I have one, but if I did not, I would be lucky to only go to prison. Dozens of other divination spells can only be performed with special dispensation from the Crowns. Military secrets and the like.¡± Poe touched his nose. ¡°Watch everyone carefully. Touch nothing. Ask no questions of the other diviners.¡± Poe seemed lost in thought for a moment. ¡°If that woman, Liza, is there, we¡¯re going to turn around and come straight home. She might as well be Master in her own right, both in divination and enchantment. There¡¯s no point if she¡¯s on the case. But she has no love for coppers, and she won¡¯t come out for a mere handful of gold.¡± Poe practically muttered this last thought to himself, frowning and bowing his head in thought. ¡°What¡¯s the box for?¡± ¡°If the Raven Queen has been hiding behind wards, it¡¯s useless to just try to use some sort of map scry.¡± Poe got quiet. ¡°There¡¯s something I¡¯ll try. It is my own spell; but nothing particularly original. It¡¯s between an augury and a divination. So, I¡¯ll need the components in my box to prepare it.¡± ¡°Is it dangerous?¡± Marie asked. Poe looked straight into her eyes. Marie thought his eyes looked a bit wild. ¡°All magic is dangerous. All of it. Magic is not even a little bit safe.¡± His voice was quiet and utterly serious. ¡°Then why do it at all?¡± ¡°Because,¡± Poe replied, subdued and wistful, ¡°magic is also wondrous.¡± Marie felt a spike of anticipation. Dangerous forbidden magics. Why work for a thaumaturge if you didn¡¯t get to see some astonishing magic from time-to-time? When they arrived, Marie lugged the chest, while Poe lead the way, striding into the station with a swirl of color. A young female copper met him as he strode in. After a few words, they headed to top floor of the station, where, purportedly, a scrying array was set up. Poe was right; Marie didn¡¯t think the chest would have been heavy for other people, but carrying it made her arms tremble and the backs of her legs ache as she carried it up the flights of stairs. They finally arrived at a corner room on the top floor. Marie wasn¡¯t sure why she thought scrying would be done in a smoky basement room, smelling of incense and melted candle-wax. She entirely failed to anticipate this bright clean room. If it smelled of anything, the room smelled like clean linen and lemon. Huge floor-to-ceiling glass windows lit the room from two sides. The scrying room was almost sterile white, with a gold circle two strides across set into the floor, and a pentagram contained inside it. In the middle of the circle, a colorful painted diagram sat. Marie had never seen one that detailed before, but it looked like a map of the city - twisting roads and buildings all drawn out. Near the windows, a group of robed thaumaturges were in the middle of an argument about which components they should be using. ¡°Feathers should be in the array I tell you. She favors ravens. Twice now she used ravens to talk to her father at his window.¡± A pale, thin-fingered man argued. ¡°Just because she used a bit of blood magic to control a raven doesn¡¯t make her a raven lover. The opposite I¡¯d think.¡± Another scoffed. ¡°Do we even have the right sorts of feathers in hand? Perhaps if we had feathers from the bird in question ¡­¡± A neat gentleman in plaid suggested. Poe seemingly ignored the argument. Instead he directed Marie to put the box down next to an open wall. He sat on the floor next to the box and began opening it. The box had a sliding piece holding the lid in place. After Poe removed it, he then slid the entire top to the side, then lifted the lid completely off. He flipped the lid over, showing the clean light blue underside, and revealing a white circle etched in the wood. Poe gestured for Marie to kneel next to him. Inside the opened box she saw trays holding miniature bottles, pens and brushes, sticks of ink, chisels, etching tools, fine wire, several journal-sized books, beast cores, and a portable lamp. Taking a small beast core, he removed that layer and set it on the floor, to reveal three etched and polished flat bowls set in velvet niches: one made of black stone, one made of black horn, and one made of black clay. He slid these aside, moving the tray out of the way into some sort of expanded space recess, to reveal more small objects set in trays, glass specimen bottles, labelled paper boxes, spools of shimmering thread, and trinkets and baubles of all kinds. Even though it seemed like Poe had reached the bottom of the box, he slid even these trays aside to reveal a velvet-lined, segmented, and carefully labeled tray. In each of dozens of tiny slots, there were cut and uncut precious and semiprecious stones: diamond, emerald, onyx, garnet, citrine, amethyst, and many others, all arraigned in a rainbow of color. In the center of these, however, was a clear, uncut, unpolished chunk of cerelium the size of her fist set in a velvet recess. Everything glimmered like, well, shiny rocks. But still! This was a fortune. Marie suddenly wondered why Poe seemed poor at all. His dusty and book-filled office? His ridiculous couch-filled apartment? The plain all-vegetarian lunch he shared with her every day? This was at least a thousand gold worth of gems, just hidden away. No, not hidden at all; the box had been sitting in plain view in his office. Not that Marie noticed it. Marie felt a lot less guilty about taking half the income of the agency if this was how Poe spent his money. Poe inhaled deeply through his nose before he reached out and picked up the cerelium. He seemed relieved that nothing happened, and then he tucked it into an outside pocket of his coat. He picked out a black onyx, a polished green citrine, and a tiny, but clear, uncut diamond, then he slid the trays back in place until only the bowls were visible. He lifted the horn bowl out of its niche and put it aside. He then replaced the top tray, but removed a pen and a bottle of red ink. He placed the lid¡¯s spell array facing upward on the of the box. He put the bowl on top of the lid, then he gestured for Marie to stay seated while he stood. He got the attention of the apparent leader. ¡°Well, well. Frank Poe.¡± The pale diviner with white thin bony fingers greeted him. ¡°I thought you were still in Willowdale?¡± ¡°Themius.¡± Poe¡¯s lips twitched into an insincere smile. The other diviners, and even the copper, became silent and tense. Poe shrugged. ¡°I got better.¡± This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Marie felt jittery as the air filled with some ineffable tension. She was having a little difficulty breathing, but she wasn¡¯t sure why. Poe¡¯s face suddenly grew stern. ¡°Get control over yourselves. I am perfectly capable of casting, and I still have my journeyman¡¯s license, if you¡¯d like to see it.¡± Poe snapped. ¡°Of course, of course.¡± Themius laughed a bit too loud. ¡°No need to prove yourself here.¡± Some of the others joined in with halfhearted chuckles. The uncomfortable feeling let up. Marie felt she could breathe again. ¡°If that¡¯s out of the way, has anyone bothered to scry Siobhan Naught¡¯s nature yet? Or are you trying to guess?¡± Frank was being rude, again. But, the other diviners seemed to be less sure of themselves at his question. Themius was unfazed. ¡°I don¡¯t know who you think Naught is, exactly, but we¡¯ll put a little bit more will into it and I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll have her sussed in short order.¡± Themius replied. ¡°Do not underestimate the Raven Queen.¡± A coarse voice said from the doorway. A copper in a long coat, holding a box that was covered in spells, stepped into the room, flanked by two more coppers.He immediately began coughing. When the short fit ended, he continued. ¡°I am Investigator Kuchen, leading the investigation on the ground here in the city. The Raven Queen has been elusive and careful, and even now that we have her blood, she¡¯s avoiding us. We¡¯ve scried her using our resources from Harrow Hill several times since we found her blood, and she has been immune. This attempt is closer to the Mires, with locals, because we hope your familiarity with this side of the city, and proximity, will improve our chances. Now, Master Themius, are you ready for your attempt?¡± ¡°Sir, we are still working out the array.¡± Bony fingers replied. ¡°Here is her blood.¡± The Copper offered the evidence box to Themius. ¡°For the rest of you, I want to remind you of the confidential nature of this investigation. You are all being paid for your time, so we expect that you will not reveal anything you see here to outsiders.¡± As Themius began carrying the box to the big scrying circle, Poe pulled him aside. ¡°Master Themius.¡± Poe at least sounded deferential, ¡°I¡¯d like to try an initial divination before you get to the main attempt, it should help us get the correct components for your spell.¡± Poe said. Themius gave Poe a critical look. Even Kuchen gave Marie¡¯s brightly dressed boss a once over. ¡°Well, you always were talented, for whatever good that did you. What¡¯s the spell?¡± Themius replied. ¡°It¡¯s a divination and an augury I designed for gestalt investigation.¡± Kuchen raised an eyebrow. While Themius hesitated to answer, Kuchen nodded to him. ¡°Very well, if it helps us put together the spell array, then any little edge might assist us. But, show me your array first.¡± Themius said. Poe shrugged. He gestured to Themius to come over to view the array on top of the box. Poe sat on his knees on the bare floor, and started laying out components on the array. The gems and best core went around the array, along with some other things Marie couldn¡¯t identify, with the bowl in the center. Then he produced a bottle of water from his coat¡¯s inner pocket to fill the bowl, which developed a mirror-like reflective surface. He removed his glasses, and tucked them into a pocket. If his mis-matched eyes bothered anyone, no one said anything. Poe began drawing little glyphs with the red ink. Marie couldn¡¯t quite tell what he was doing, and she couldn¡¯t read any of the strange glyphs. Poe¡¯s motions were deft and practiced. He did not write any words or anything similar to that. Or at least nothing that Marie could read. ¡°I¡¯ll need the blood here.¡± Frank pointed. ¡°Fate? Character? Memory?Cycle? I do not see anything for sight?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not trying to find her; I¡¯m trying to find out what she¡¯s like.¡± ¡°Very well.¡± Themius opened the box and, using metal tongs, withdrew a sliver of glass with a bit of blood smeared in one ragged edge. ¡°Huh.¡± Poe mumbled when he saw it. ¡°What?¡± ¡°The glass has been a part of a spell.¡± ¡°How do you know that?¡± Kuchen spoke up. ¡°I¡¯ve used glass as a surface for spell arrays often enough.¡± Poe gestured for Themius to hold the shard of glass up to Kuchen. ¡°See that purple-blue sheen on one side? That¡¯s from exposure to channeled magic.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not anything special.¡± Themius noted. ¡°Witnesses said she was taking drops of blood and putting them on glass for her magic.¡± Kuchen said. ¡°Really? Well, that¡¯s troubling. A blood sorcerer. I may not get much from this then.¡± The other diviners drifted over to observe the spell. Poe rolled his neck and glanced up at them all standing around. ¡°You can watch, but do not interfere.¡± Suddenly mindful, everyone took half a step away. Everyone still stood , except Marie, who had a clear view where she was. Poe sat in the eastern style, on his knees, directly on the other side of the box from her. In the little bowl of water, she could see Poe¡¯s face in the reflection. Themius placed the chip of bloody glass at the remaining empty spot Poe indicated. Poe slid his hands into his coat pockets¡ªMarie guessed he was probably touching the conduit¡ªand he began a whispered chant. Marie shivered. She could feel it faintly: the sense of magic being worked in the world. The water in the bowl shimmered and turned a glossy silver. But, it did not reflect the ceiling. It shown blue, like some unidentifiable sky, then began to swirl with darkness and golden light. Brilliant stars and colorful shapes came and went, hidden in a fog; she had no way to interpret them. She felt strange sensations, like wind and light shining of choppy water. Perhaps if she had been a Prognos, she could have seen it, but whatever Poe was doing, it seemed to puzzle all the others as well, as brows furrowed and they cast questioning looks at each other. Marie tried to be a good secretary, and not have a face filled with awe. The bowl moved on to more images that Marie did not entirely recognize. Improbably, without inhaling, she had the memory of strange smells like road dust, woodsmoke, and sweet lavender. As the spell carried on, there were also images that formed that she did recognize: a beautiful guitar that shown across a stage, a butterfly¡¯s iridescent chrysalis, and ravens. They were always at the corner of things, but they formed a flock of the black birds gathering into an unkindness, chasing owls through a blue sky. The circle began to glow slightly, and Poe breathed slowly and deeply. Marie saw the pattern of koi on his coat shimmer and move to an invisible current. The color in the bowl¡¯s water went black. It was so black, no light escaped it, like a hole in the world. Then, she saw a terrifying golden eye open. It stared out of the darkness that warped around it. Unblinking. Marie froze, like prey that some great predator had found. ¡®Still,¡¯ she thought, ¡®stay still and maybe it won¡¯t see you.¡¯ The array took on an increasingly intense light; glowing enough to give Poe¡¯s countenance a sinister air, even in the daylight streaming through the windows. Marie suddenly had the sense that the eye turned its gaze to her specially; terror choked her voice and she whimpered. Poe¡¯s eyes opened till the whites went all the way around his irises. Everything stopped. The smell of a freshwater pond filled Marie¡¯s nose: algae and wind over the water. The scrying bowl returned to an ordinary reflection, and Marie could see Poe¡¯s face in it again. Poe drew shaking hands from his pockets. No one else seemed to have seen the blackness; or at least they didn¡¯t react the way Marie did. ¡°Well. That was something.¡± Poe muttered. ¡°What?¡± Kuchen asked. He was gazing on over Poe¡¯s shoulder, the least perturbed of the them all. ¡°A couple of things. I was looking for her nature to discover an idea of who she is. The basic idea is that this scry can help select appropriate components for later scrying attempts. When she lost this blood, her nature was to hide, to change, and to grow. Not really surprising. She¡¯s young, and she was trying to escape. Her elements are unclear ¡­ Dreams, definitely. Also, Radiance? Air?¡± Poe paused, thinking. Marie saw a tension around his eyes, and sweat was beading on his brow. ¡°So?¡± Kuchen interrupted. ¡°She¡¯s protected. Elusive. She¡¯s not a thief. Or, rather she might steal, but she has bargained. Probably prefers it. Oh yes. Powerful mundane and magic bargains protect her. And, one other thing.¡± ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± ¡°There¡¯s darkness; terrible darkness. This is not shadow, or the darkness of a moonless night. This is a Watching Darkness, a Devouring Darkness. I had to end the spell. It ¡­ it noticed me.¡± Themius scoffed. ¡°There¡¯s no such thing as the plane of darkness. And, what in Myrddin¡¯s name is an element of Dreams? You failed. You just can¡¯t admit it. Fate magic is speculative at best.¡± Themius leaned over and gingerly removed the shard of glass with the Raven Queen''s blood on it. ¡°You forget, I am more accomplished in divination than you. I was watching your scry bowl. I saw nothing of the sort. Darkness, misdirection, tricks, and lies were all I saw.¡± ¡°Did you now? Well, I feel a headache coming on. I¡¯ll watch your divination, but won¡¯t join it. If she strengthened the protections around her since she lost this blood, she¡¯ll crush your attempt like stepping on a bug. Still, I suggest you put in elements of air, radiance, dreams or sleep, and components that symbolizes the honest bargain, as well as a component that represents shapelessness or change. The better components will have been acquired in honest trade, not theft. Do not scry the darkness; you will fail that way.¡± ¡°Outrageous. The Raven Queen is a liar and a thief.¡± Themius towered over the seated Poe. Marie fought the urge to lean away, but Poe seemed entirely unaffected. ¡°Divination is the least reliable of all magics. One must open the third eye to the strands of fate, and I never managed it.¡± Poe shrugged. Marie scowled. Why was Poe giving up on his results so easily? Even she had seen that terrible black emptiness. The eye, even when only remembered, made her jittery and anxious. The rest of group of diviners began talking among themselves. Themius directed coppers to obtain components. Poe, however, began carefully putting his components away. He tipped the water back into a bottle with a silver funnel, gathered the gems and other bits and bobs from the spell array, rubbed the ink off the array with an alcohol soaked rag, and carefully tucked everything back into his box. He dropped the lid in place, and then slid it firmly till it gave a soft wooden tick, afterward sliding the locking piece in place. Marie noticed that he didn¡¯t return the chunk of cerelium or the beast core. He kept them tucked into his pockets. ¡°Marie. Do you recall well enough to write down what I said?¡± ¡°Yes boss.¡± ¡°Write it all out. We¡¯ll have to give it to the Investigators before we leave. Show me your draft, and I¡¯ll copy out the version we give them.¡± Poe handed her paper and a sharp pencil from his pocket. As he stood, she sat on the stone floor at the box and used it like a small desk, writing out Poe¡¯s conclusions. When she was done, it was almost a quarter to nine, and the diviners began working their spell. She stood next to Poe in a corner of the room, observing. ¡°Fools.¡± He muttered to her. ¡°They¡¯ve put darkness in the array with those angler fish scales, and I¡¯m pretty sure that spider-silk scarf representing air was a piece stolen and taken from the copper¡¯s evidence stores.¡± Marie wasn¡¯t sure what he was referring to. The spell array looked like it had just little piles of animal parts, dead weeds, and junk spread around it. Themius ceremonially placed a drop of quicksilver in the center of the array, in the center of the map. He carefully stepped back. The diviners all sipped a potion from the same dark brown bottle, then joined hands. At first, Marie felt their will splash out in a soft but a ragged wave, before it stabilized and began to throb like a heartbeat. A magical pressure built slowly; it spread no quicker than honey from a jar. The spell array took on a faint glow, and all eyes in the room focused on that little droplet of quicksilver. It wobbled, but it did not move. Marie held her breath, staring at it. ¡°More¡± Themius growled. Marie saw the tips of the diviners¡¯ fingers whiten, as the group tightened their grip on each other and the magic. The waves of will became stronger, but it was like an unbalanced wagon, rocking in the ruts on a road. The array blazed with power, and the bead, instead of moving, began to get smaller as it boiled away. Sweat began to bead on their faces. ¡°Stop!¡± Poe shouted. ¡°Stop you fools, stop!¡± Marie began to feel like she was standing on some small fishing boat, her legs unsteady, waves rocking it uncontrollably. Unbalanced, the wind was whipping water over the gunwales, and she was going to be thrown into the black waters of a storm tossed sea. She tasted copper and brine in her mouth. The glow from the spell shimmered. ¡°BE STILL¡± Poe thundered. Marie turned and looked at him. Poe¡¯s hands had returned to his pockets. The fishes¡¯ mouths on his coat opened and closed like the mouths of the real koi, their gills fluttering. Then, they moved, alive and animated, swimming over the fabric. Their motion became more Real, swimming just below the surface of the coat. They leapt from the coat with splashes, swimming in the air. The koi floated around Poe, seemingly protecting him from the uncontrolled will of the diviners. From Poe a great smothering blanket of will poured out over the room, calming the waves. Marie blinked. The fish stopped moving, not only still, but returned to their places on the coat as if they never had moved at all. The ritual wound down, and the magic eased, until the magic calmed like a baby drifting to sleep. The little bead of quicksilver had boiled away entirely. ¡°Curse you Themius.¡± Poe whispered, and he staggered against the wall. His hair and eyes were wild, and blood dripped from his nose. Kuchen carefully scooped up the precious piece of bloody glass from the array, placing it carefully in its evidence box. The officers began shouting for healers, and men and women in clean white robes rushed into the room. Kuchen looked at Poe, and then turned to one of his subordinates. ¡°If he survives, give him a bonus.¡± The investigator took a deep breath, then covered his mouth for an uncontrollable coughing fit. Chapter 4: Who are you really? Month 11, Day 30, 1:00 PM Frank Poe Lying on the sleeping couch in his apartment above his office, Frank Poe was too tired, and too hurt, to be furious. Oh, but he wanted to be furious. Themius had pushed that divination well beyond safe levels for the apprentices and journeyman who had participated in it. They¡¯d built the power unevenly and lost control. If Poe hadn¡¯t intervened, there could have been backlash, or worse, a break event. As it was, everyone involved walked away with at least a little will strain. Several hours into the day, the coppers¡¯ healers finally released Frank. In the meanwhile, Marie seemed very protective of his components; she carried them everywhere until they locked his chest in the office. She didn¡¯t seem to realize that almost everyone else would practically forget that the box existed if he didn¡¯t point it out. Once he¡¯d pointed it out to her, however, the enchantments did not have any effect. Her mind was so resistant to mental magic, she didn¡¯t have a good frame of reference. Frank worried about Marie. She¡¯d not said anything except a few subdued words since the failed divination. She was paler than usual, and seemed on the verge of tears whenever she looked at Frank. Frank felt sick, and it was more than the headache or the nausea. Marie was more than sensitive enough to have seen that absolute blackness, and ¡­ Frank still felt unsettled. This might affect her. He knew there was more out there than he¡¯d seen. The wastes. The remote wilds. Many of the other planes. His mind was full enough of horrors with living in this world, let alone the nightmares of others. But, he knew this: his divination showed real horror in the Raven Queen¡¯s life. If Marie really saw it, well ¡­ Not that Marie¡¯s life was easy. While on a case, Frank had found her running the desk of a massage parlor¡ªHands, Hearts, and Palms¡ªthat was not entirely focused on the physical rehabilitation and sore muscles. She was directing the clients to the services with a bodyguard the size of a mule watching over her. Among other things that showed she¡¯d make an exceptional apprentice¡ªlike having a strong imagination and already being able to read and write¡ªshe was unaffected by his curse. This might have otherwise shown she was a null. But, it turned out that she had quite a strong natural will and therefore some other sort of immunity. Realizing that she had no trouble recalling him, Frank immediately knew that she had talent. Her mother, a cleaning lady at the parlor, swore that her girl might know what the business did, but Marie wasn¡¯t ¡°available for hire.¡± It took some perseverance, and answering some awkward questions, to explain what he actually wanted when he hired her. Marie herself seemed to be learning how to balance books from the ¡°auntie¡± who ran the place. This meant she grasped numbers and caluculations. Moreover, he¡¯d been pleased that she¡¯d jumped at the chance to work away from the pleasure houses. Nothing wrong with that work, he supposed, when those that chose that business were adult enough to make a fair choice. But, even if Frank Poe wasn¡¯t an altruist, he wasn¡¯t going to let potential like Marie slip into that work if he could help it. Even if not that, she¡¯d be entirely wasted as a house servant, or worse: an accountant. Also, Marie seemed to think he needed her to manage his affairs, which was adorable in its own way. With his little stunt at the coppers¡¯ station, however, she was had some justification. Frank felt like he could barely move. Now, while Poe lay down, she heated water for tea at the cast iron stove. She dropped a scoop full of leaves in the pot, poured the water over them, but only set out one cup in the tray. ¡°Bring a cup for yourself.¡± Frank called from his couch. He adjusted his pillows. He winced. There wasn¡¯t much for it; healers always recommend that¡ªafter the danger of hemorrhage passed¡ªwill strain should be best treated with rest. Marie looked up at him with a mechanical daze. After taking a moment to register his words, she picked up another teacup from the shelf and placed it on the tray. Walking from the other side of the room through the maze of loveseats, settees, sofas, and the occasional coffee table, she banged a shin on a footstool. ¡°Ugh. This apartment is mostly couch!¡± Marie muttered. She wasn¡¯t wrong. Frank had found it this way; couches packed in every corner, and some stacked and leaning against the soot blackened and darkly varnished paneled walls. Nor were the couches upholstered in any sort of consistent style. Frank chose a linen and paisley fabric-covered one for his bed, but there were leather (brown, red, and black), blue velvets, green cotton, and patterns of embroidered wild flowers. All these couches seemed trapped in the one-room apartment, most of this furniture unable to fit through the door, and none of it could be maneuvered down the twisting stairs. Frank smiled at Marie¡¯s outburst. Or rather, he tried to, but winced and closed his eyes for a short rest. She finally showed some liveliness since they¡¯d returned. Marie set the tray down on the side table next to Frank, and sat on the narrow lounge at the side of his sleeping couch. Frank sat up among a mound of pillows where he¡¯d collapsed fully clothed. Marie poured and handed a cup of tea to Frank, and then poured a cup for herself. She wrapped both hands around it, but did not drink. ¡°How much was the bonus then?¡± Frank asked. ¡°20 gold.¡± ¡°Misers.¡± Frank replied. He took a sip of tea. It was light and sweet. He didn¡¯t think he¡¯d kept a tin of tea that nice around the apartment. They sipped in silence for a long time. ¡°Tell me, what did you see?¡± Frank asked. ¡°When?¡± ¡°In the scrying bowl.¡± ¡°There were images, and darkness. And ¡­¡± Marie shivered noticeably ¡°a golden eye.¡± ¡°An eye?¡± ¡°Yes, it opened, and then it ¡­ You stopped the spell.¡± Frank sipped his tea. After seeing that, it was a credit to Marie that she was sitting here with him at all. Ah, youth. Never afraid enough of death. On the other hand, he hadn¡¯t seen an eye in that black void. He only sensed it. That was enough for him. He wouldn¡¯t be scrying the Raven Queen again. Frank could speculate on what that blackness was. Some unique protective spell? An anti-divination ward? That¡¯s what he had suspected when he first felt it, but now ¡­ that felt wrong. It was like something out of a Myrddin story; irrational and unexplainable. Had he awakened some other creature that interfered? He¡¯d also only had told the coppers¡¯ gathering a part of what the spell told him; the gestalt examination of fate he¡¯d kept to himself. There was something in the larger pattern ¡­ He¡¯d think about that when his head didn¡¯t hurt so bad. ¡°Mr. Poe?¡± ¡°Marie.¡± ¡°Who are you really? What ¡­¡± Marie¡¯s question drifted off. It was easy to forget, given how jaded the teen was, that she¡¯d barely seen a tiny piece of the world yet. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡°Would you like me to try to explain?¡± Poe asked gently. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Who I am right now is a detective for hire. But, I got here through a combination of family, education, bad choices, and bad luck. I was a research assistant at the University. All journeyman students might try to study various types of magic, or even natural science. But to be a master, you have to develop some specialty; it¡¯s not a matter of power alone. I have wealthy relatives, but I¡¯m disowned now, of course. I¡¯m letting them down, going into the trade. Still, my old classmates, like Themius, remember me.¡± Frank sipped his tea. His head was pounding. ¡°Even if they mostly abandoned me after ¡­¡± Frank trailed off, trying to overcome a sudden nausea. ¡°So?¡± Marie asked after an uncomfortably long silence. ¡°I was researching fate magic. It¡¯s not a well understood branch of magic, even now. The Fay understood it, maybe, but they are long gone now.¡± Frank felt another spike of pain in his temples. He rolled his neck.¡°In short, I made a mistake and paid for it by spending some time in a specialty hospital, trying to relearn how to talk. I am lucky to be able to cast magic at all.¡± Poe sighed. ¡°You weren¡¯t poor?¡± Frank laughed, then winced. ¡°No. And, I am still not ¡®poor.¡¯¡± ¡°Is that why you have a box full of gemstones?¡± ¡°No. That¡¯s my component kit. But also yes, because components are expensive. I have other money saved. Speaking of. You have been taking half the fees of the August Agency for yourself.¡± Marie flushed. ¡°Well, I ¡­ You¡¯d just waste the money anyway. I still paid the rent with part of what I kept. And, you weren¡¯t making any money at all before I joined the agency.¡± When Frank was an arrogant young aristo, he might have been offended. But, he wasn¡¯t that young anymore. And he definitely wasn¡¯t an aristo. He reckoned, for a thirteen year old, Marie hadn¡¯t presented too bad a defense. A good thaumaturge was always ready to defend themselves, and not easily bent. Assuredness was fine. Arrogance, of course, would suffer. ¡°Oh, did we agree that you¡¯d be a half owner of this agency?¡± Poe sipped his tea. Marie, her tea cup forgotten, opened then closed her mouth. Poe continued. ¡°Moreover, after the events of today, we obviously need to renegotiate your contract.¡± Marie recoiled a bit, and slumped. She would be obviously less enthused about this prospect. ¡°Poe, I mean ¡­ Mr. Poe, surely the extra ¡­¡± Marie protested. ¡°If I had not been there today at that the divination, there would have been a disaster. Accordingly, you were quite right to insist I participate.¡± ¡°I was?¡± ¡°Yes. And, you showed sensitivity to both the expressed will of others and the scrying, which even experienced thaumaturges did not.¡± ¡°I did?¡± ¡°Yes. And, you followed my direction quite closely.¡± ¡°I did?¡± ¡°Yes. And finally, I¡¯ve concluded that over the past few weeks your instruction in basic education has gone very well.¡± ¡°It did?¡± ¡°Yes. Accordingly, you will now be my apprentice.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Apprentices must, of course, pay for their training, which you will do by remitting your half of the August Agency¡¯s income to me.¡± ¡°What?!¡± ¡°And, apprentices are due a stipend, room, and board. You will have to eat here, and you may need to do some of your own cooking. Considering the immediate value you provide to the Agency, a fair stipend would be 10 gold per month, perhaps more if income improves.¡± ¡°But, we only made 12 gold last month?¡± ¡°And, you should have the use of the empty apartment above mine in this building.¡± ¡°Where will the money come for rent?¡± ¡°Because I am the owner of the building, there¡¯s no need for you to pay rent.¡± ¡°You are the owner ¡­ wait. Who have I been paying rent to?¡± ¡°Me.¡± Frank grinned. ¡°You¡¯ve been paying me the rent to offset your quite gross embezzlement.¡± ¡°Uh ¡­ didn¡¯t you say I could skim money for my salary?¡± ¡°Yes, I did. Now, as my apprentice, I expect you to study hard, greet the clients of the agency, maintain records, and generally assist me in investigations.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t I do that now?¡± ¡°Yes, but you don¡¯t live here where I can keep and eye on you. Also, you desperately need training in magic, and so I¡¯m going to make sure you get the supervised training you need. In four years you will enter the University, where, unless I actually become destitute running this failing business, I¡¯m willing to sponsor you to attend.¡± ¡°But, my mother ¡­¡± ¡°Has already approved. If she remembers. I left a note. I also plan to invite her to stay with you, if she wishes. Tonight we¡¯ll go to your ¡­ home and tell her that I¡¯ve extended an offer to you, which she should have been expecting for some time now on condition of absolute secrecy.¡± Frank frowned a bit. ¡°Besides, I don¡¯t like that you sleep at that ¡®massage parlor.¡¯ It was no place for a child, but I¡¯m now quite sure a dangerous place to live, what with the Morrows escalating their war with the Stags. Yours is a Morrows-run business? It¡¯s much better over here in the Stag¡¯s territory.¡± ¡°But ¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a ¡®formal¡¯ apprenticeship mind you; journeyman are discouraged from taking students.¡± ¡°Discouraged?¡± ¡°It¡¯s illegal. So if you tell anyone, I¡¯ll deny it. You¡¯re my assistant.¡± Marie looked a little bit like he¡¯d broken her brain. Her face moved between confusion, anger, excitement, resignation all at once. ¡°Why are you doing this?¡± Marie said, exasperated. ¡°A couple of reasons. First, because it¡¯s ridiculous that the Crowns don¡¯t train more naturally talented thaumaturges from a younger age. We ¡­ rather, they have plenty of money for it. Even if you discover ordinary kitchen magic and the like on your own, which I expect you will soon anyway, without proper training, your talent will be wasted. Second, you have been able to deal with my curse for me in a way that I can¡¯t. When you hand the clients the notes, they remember to pay me. That never worked when I handed them the note. Of course, your embezzlements will have to stop. The stipend should cover you, and if it doesn¡¯t, we can talk about what you¡¯ll need money for, given that I expect to be feeding and housing you. So, what do you say?¡± Half of those reasons might be a lie, but Poe wouldn¡¯t admit that they were. He didn¡¯t want to think too closely about it. ¡°I ¡­ yes! Thank You!¡± Whatever was going on inside in her mind, Marie smiled at Frank. He smiled back. This felt like the first good decision he¡¯d made in a while. He wouldn¡¯t let the Frigg¡¯s opinion sway him against it. ¡°Excellent. If you think you¡¯ve been studying so far, just wait till we really get going.¡± Frank smiled. Sure, she wasn¡¯t some scion of a crown family, or at least not a legitimate scion, but that did not matter. Frank just had to grow the August Agency into something that could afford to give her a decent education. And, he could work a little bit harder, besides. ¡°Now, just let me recover for a few minutes and I¡¯ll escort you home to get your clothes and things for the apartment. If you would, please retire to the office and intercept clients, while I take a nap.¡± After Marie left the room, Frank fell back on the pillows. Dealing with her took more energy than he thought it would. He leaned over and reached under the couch for a couple of potions he¡¯d kept there. He grabbed a pain reliever, anxiety reducer, and a sleeping potion. He hated it, but he needed rest, and these would get him there. He took a swallow from each.This particular will strain felt bad; not as bad as the incident that put him in Meadowbrook, but bad enough. The healers assured him he wouldn¡¯t slip into a coma, but that was the least of his worries. As he drifted in pain, trying to rest, he thought back to the parts of the divination he did not reveal; the result of the augury. The Raven Queen¡¯s future. While she seemed impossibly well protected from examining her present, and her past was cloudy and misleading at best, her future, as unreliable as predictions could be, was at least visible. That particular scrying was filled with figurative imagery, and everyone had their own symbols. He would have pressed Marie to describe what she¡¯s seen in greater detail, but that final image was not a subject he wanted her to return to. For Frank, he saw a bell, a butterfly, and ravens. The image of the golden bell: notoriety, or perhaps fame, was already part of her future. The Raven Queen legend was only starting, and Frank was sure it was going to grow. There was also a flash of butterfly with dark and golden wings; likely transformation, present tense, but also further into her future. More than growth, Frank thought. And finally, because the augury only gave three signs, the last sign was ravens, shifting into that devouring darkness. That could mean many things; ravens were clever, so perhaps she¡¯s grow in cleverness. But, ravens also followed armies to war. The Raven Queen could be the sign that war was coming again; a cause or effect. Frank sensed that darkness was terrible and dangerous. The Raven Queen might not be a human at all. Not that there weren¡¯t other intelligent creatures in the world, but she was unlike anything he¡¯d ever scryed. The spell did not give him enough to see where she fit in things, and in that respect Themius was right.Frank¡¯s spell had failed. Perhaps he¡¯d check his books ¡­ Eventually, Frank passed into a deep sleep. Chapter 5: Black Star Sapphire Month 11, Day 30, 4:00 PM Marie Hours later, Marie had already fixed the accountings to reflect the actual payments and credits. It had, after all, been only a handful of clients. Then she had practiced the next set of lessons in the Primer, and then she had checked her answers. Reading a chapter on drawing, she realized that her drawing skills would need to improve if she was going to be a drawing spell arrays and things, so she practiced the book¡¯s suggested exercise of making straight and even loops with a pen for a time, until her hand cramped. The loops weren¡¯t very even. In fact, they weren¡¯t even very straight. Finally, out of absolute boredom, she had grabbed the dusters stored in the main office and began dusting books. The books were, in fact, very dusty.She¡¯d never paid much attention to the titles, but now it occurred to her that she couldn¡¯t even read most of the spines; Poe shelved all his books with the pages out. Hundreds of books on the overpacked shelves, and not a title in sight. But as she pulled them out, dusted them, and put them back, she realized many of the books were relatively new, with clean white pages and unbroken spines. She was beginning to see how Frank Poe ¡­ Master Poe? ¡­ had a lot more money than she thought. He just did not spend it on a variety of clothes, or a nice place to live, or on furniture, or cleaning services, or food. In fact, as far as she could tell, he just drank tea, ate boiled eggs, rice, oatmeal, and the occasional boiled potato. His ¡°kitchen¡± was little more than a single stove, a pot, a kettle, small cold box, and a shelf. He even had water delivered, instead of connecting to the cistern on the roof. Today at his noon ¡°dinner-time¡± had been the first time she¡¯d actually seen him eat away from the Agency. She was, despite the excitement of being an apprentice, a little terrified for Poe. He looked like a ghost after the big divination, very pale and shaking. Blood had poured from his nose. He¡¯d stopped it with a handkerchief relatively quickly, but he was wincing at the slightest motion or sound. What ever he¡¯d done, it had hurt him. Badly. Magic wasn¡¯t safe. She didn¡¯t like seeing him hurt. He wasn¡¯t so much older than her that he could have been her father, but he was certainly at least twenty. And, she felt a little attached to him. His bright clothing and his strange koi-decorated coat made him seem like a fool in a play. His big round smoky glasses were odd-looking, and his uncovered eyes moreso. But Poe was not a fool. He always seemed to know what she was thinking. That was a little disconcerting, but he never seemed to take advantage of her fears, and in fact he often did the opposite, reassuring her more often than not. Midway through dusting her third bookcase, she heard the front door open and close. The Agency really needed a bell on that door. When she came around the partition, she met a youngish sharp-featured young man with a predatory look. Marie suddenly felt uneasy; without Poe back from his nap, she didn¡¯t have much protection here. Just the folding knife she had in hidden pocket along the seam of her dress. The Stags tended toward respectful behavior, but the Morrows could be dangerous. It wasn¡¯t clear which gang this man might belong to, even though he wasn¡¯t wearing a green antlers or a red bandanna. ¡°How can I help you?¡± ¡°Is Mr. Poe in?¡± Marie smiled at him. It was always good to give the client a positive impression. Marie thought for a moment, and decided there was no reason to tell this fellow the whole truth. ¡°Mr. Poe is busy at the moment.¡± Poe hadn¡¯t come down from his nap, but that counted as busy, right? ¡°Would you like to make an appointment?¡± ¡°Oh.¡± The skinny fellow kept twitching, fidgeting, and looking around the office. Despite the entire lack of any furniture, he still seemed to make a go at looking for a chair. There were no chairs. Poe didn¡¯t have enough clients to need them. ¡°Yeah, okay. Look. I¡¯m with the Pack. I¡¯m just bringing a message. Gera is calling in a favor. She needs to see Frank Poe right away. Can you tell him?¡± ¡°Yes, of course.¡± The young man looked relieved, thanked Marie, and prowled out into the evening. Marie sighed. It was near time the office closed. Poe, however, was absent. Marie had another premonition that he was more unwell than he let on. She closed the door and locked it with her key, then climbed the stairs to Poe¡¯s apartment. She opened his door, and it stopped half way open, because it collided with another couch. She would have moved the cussed thing out of the way, except there seemed to be no place to move it to. ¡°Who has all the couches? Master Poe, apparently.¡± Marie muttered. ¡°Marie?¡± Poe croaked from his sleeping couch. ¡°I¡¯m here Master Poe.¡± ¡°Good. Can you bring me some more tea?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°I¡¯d get get up, you understand, but my stomach is not in a good place. Nor, I fear, is my balance.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Poe looked terrible. Perhaps even worse than right after they had left the copper¡¯s station. His mismatched eyes were bloodshot and sunken. He looked pale. Or, paler than usual. He appeared to be in no condition to leave. Marie made the tea and brought it to him. When she got to him, he was, at least, sitting upright. He thanked her for it and sipped it carefully. ¡°You don¡¯t have to walk me home, Master Poe.¡± ¡°Just call me Poe, Marie.¡± ¡°Ok. I should get going, before it gets too dark.¡± ¡°Oh no, I¡¯m not letting you cross the city alone with a nascent gang war.¡± ¡°Nascent?¡± ¡°It means ¡°just beginning.¡¯¡± Poe rubbed his temples. ¡°I must be more tired than I thought if I¡¯m using words like that.¡± ¡°You have to be awake to use normal words?¡± ¡°Once you become educated, transparent conveyance of ideas becomes a struggle.¡± ¡°Are you making fun of me?¡± ¡°Sadly, no.¡± ¡°I need to get home.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll come with you. Let me finish this tea.¡± Poe swallowed the hot liquid with a sudden burst of energy, tossed away his coverlet, and stood. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. His hair was wild with sleep, but it looked artfully tossled, instead of a wreck. He was still in his now-rumpled suit and koi-decorated coat. Marie checked: the fish didn¡¯t twitch. Mr. Poe looked more like a down on his luck fop than a powerful sorcerer that scryed the Raven Queen and stopped some sort of magic disaster. While Marie thought of that, she reminded herself of the new client. ¡°Oh, I almost forgot. A man came round and left a message saying that Gera wanted to see you immediately. He sounded like it was important.¡± ¡°Gera.¡± Poe said heavily. ¡°There was nothing I could do. But, perhaps ¡­¡± Poe brightened slightly. ¡°This is connected. We¡¯ve got to go to visit the Pack.¡± ¡°The Pack? Aren¡¯t they ¡­ dangerous?¡± ¡°Oh my yes. Very. But only to those that do not bargain fairly with them. Come my apprentice! You¡¯re going to learn something useful.¡± Poe set the teacup down on a chesterfield, and set off through the maze of couches toward his apartment door. Poe confidently strode between the couches, and in one instance, over a divan. Marie followed, but a little less gracefully. She found hurdling the divan a little beyond her short stature, and had to scoot around it. ¡°But, I need to get back to my mom ¡­?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll do that after. You might be late, but this will be an important lesson, and we shouldn¡¯t miss a chance for bit of practical education.¡± And they headed downstairs. Poe, again, purchased a ride across town; this time to the manor of Lord Lynwood. Marie felt extravagant. On the way over, Poe practically fell asleep, leaving Marie with a unclear idea of why this Gera, who Marie didn¡¯t know, would be able to convince Poe to cross town in such haste. As they stepped out of the carriage, they met a guard at the iron-barred gate of Linwood Manor. Poe asked for Gera, and they were promptly led inside to a drawing room with a massive fireplace. It was lit, and shadows danced around them. While they waited for Gera, Poe seemed inclined to talk after his long silence in the carriage. ¡°Lord Lynwood is the Alpha of the Pack. He¡¯s the leader, but he may not greet us; I¡¯m hardly important enough. Gera is a prognos, and she¡¯s been a good friend. Do not offend her. In fact, do not offend anyone here.¡± Poe whispered to her. Marie was barely listening. The furnishings and the art on the walls looked expensive. There were paintings of scenes in nature; not landscapes. The paintings had scenes of wolves hunting, great bears in deep woods fighting each other, and the sublime images of massive cats stalking from the branches of trees. The impression she had was that whoever lived here, their art preferences were not at all passive. Poe noticed her distraction. ¡°Pay attention, you are about to meet one of the best diviners in the city. Don¡¯t bow; they don¡¯t like it, but you should duck your head a bit.¡± Poe demonstrated. ¡°Also, Gera is blind, but she sees with divination. Don¡¯t stare. Be respectful.¡± ¡°When am I not respectful?¡± ¡°Hush.¡± The door opened and Poe stood, gesturing to Marie to do likewise. A woman prognos that entered at the arm of a huge dark complexioned man. Marie was unnerved by the scar the crossed her eye, and it¡¯s milky white blindness. With only the light from the fireplace, eerie shadows played about her face. The pair entered and sat across from Poe and Marie. Poe and Marie returned to their seats as well. ¡°Alpha Lynwood, and Lady Gera. I came as soon as I heard. What is the matter? Is it Miles?¡± ¡°Who is this?¡± The blind prognos asked, gesturing toward Marie. ¡°Marie is my apprentice.¡± ¡°She can be trusted?¡± ¡°Yes¡± Frank replied, nodding. Marie felt a surge of warmth that he thought so. ¡°Mr. Poe, things have become worse with Miles, and we are desperate. The visions now intrude so deeply that he cannot sleep at all. The healers say that he¡¯s dying. We know you suffered from something similar, and they treated you at the Retreat, but you didn¡¯t have a solution for us when we discussed it.¡± Gera said. ¡°I am sure, as he grows, his mind will adjust ¡­ unlike my situation, and my curse, it is his power, and a part of him. He will be able to control it.¡± ¡°He¡¯s still a child, and he cannot. The last time you discussed this with us, your letter said that you would consult an animal oracle - a raven; did you get some answer?¡± ¡°No.¡± Frank sighed. ¡°The Raven gave me no hint, or if she did, I did not have the wit ¡­ huh.¡± Frank leaned back in his chair, face going slack for a moment. Marie had seen that look before; he had a realization. His eyes wandered the room, sightlessly contemplating. ¡°What is it Frank?¡± Gera asked. ¡°Gera, I¡¯ve explained to you my Gestalt of investigation?¡± ¡°You believe that we are all connected; by observing the connections, you would be swept up into those connections and solve the problems that are brought to you. You felt that Miles was naturally touching the chords of this pattern.¡± Gera replied. ¡°And, that as an investigator of the pattern, you did not think you could touch it or dampen it around him without harming him.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right. But this morning, I¡¯ve taken on several commissions to contact the Raven Queen. So many at once. It can¡¯t be coincidence. Then, the Oracle approved of these cases.¡± ¡°Do you mean to contact Siobhan Naught, who appeared a few nights ago in that fight with the Morrows?¡± Lord Lynwood asked. ¡°Just so.¡± ¡°Strange rumors follow her.¡± Gera noted. ¡°After she stole something form the University, she disappeared. But, during the fight, she appeared on top of a tower in a flash of lightning. When she fought the coppers, she called a great shadow and ravens to her. Prognos have been called to divine for her. With her blood they can not find her.¡± ¡°I believe she¡¯s something more, but more importantly Gera, I know she has the element of dreams in her nature. The coppers called me in earlier today, and I was able to divine a little about her. No one I know will be able to find her through divination. Do you understand?¡± ¡°She is not human?¡± Lord Lynwood spoke for the first time, in a deep rumble. ¡°Possibly not. Her blood seemed human enough. But she ¡­ in her nature is growth and rebirth, change, and dreams. She¡¯s ¡­¡± ¡°Shapeshifitng?¡± Lynwood seemed particularly interested. ¡°She may be predisposed to ally with us.¡± ¡°I do not know Alpha Lynwood.¡± Poe turned to Gera. ¡°But, let me go straight to why things changed. I must give tribute to the Oracle when I consult her. Occasionally she brings me something in exchange. These items: it¡¯s symbolic. I rarely give her anything of great value; although, when I tried to consult with her about Miles, I did. She didn¡¯t take that tribute.¡± Poe seemed a bit manic as he explained. ¡°But. This morning I consulted her regarding the Raven Queen. And, ¡­ she left me an extremely valuable exchange.¡± Poe sucked in a deep breath. ¡°It¡¯s completely out of character, unless it¡¯s part of the pattern. I think it is. You contacted me after I found out the Raven Queen¡¯s connection to dreams, and after she gave me this gift. I do not think it¡¯s a mistake that I received this when your need was so great, and you had already asked for my help.¡± ¡°What did she give you?¡± Gera asked. ¡°A black star sapphire.¡± Poe drew a pure white square of cloth from his pocket; he carefully opened the fabric to show dark stone, nearly a third the size of his palm. Marie saw it glimmer in the dim light; black, but somehow not dark. In it¡¯s depths, a six pointed star. ¡°Stones like this, they are used as spell components: space bending and passage through shadow. But, they also make good conduits - especially for spells related to illusions, dreams, and the mind. I ¡­ can¡¯t touch this one.¡± ¡°What does that mean?¡± Lynwood rumbled. ¡°This stone, it could be connected to the fate of this Raven Queen. If it is ¡­ let me leave it with you. My apology that I haven¡¯t been able to do more.¡± ¡°How do we contact the Raven Queen?¡± ¡°I do not know. Perhaps Lord Stag will know.¡± ¡°We will have to approach the master of the Verdant Stag carefully.¡± Lord Linwood rumbled. ¡°Frank, you have come at the right time. Maybe ¡­ maybe there is hope.¡± Gera whispered. ¡°Learn what you can; consult your lore-masters and grimoires. I do not yet know where the Raven Queen fits in the pattern. You know that I don¡¯t believe in coincidence; but, do not let my belief sway you. I have made many mistakes before I understood what was going on. I ¡­ am not entirely sure that I can be your ally in this, although I am your friend always. You have done much to help me understand my own predicament. But, powerful people have asked me to find a way to contact her, if not find her. If you ask it of me ¡­ I will cancel the August Agency¡¯s contracts.¡± ¡°No, your honor is important to you. We will find our own way from here.¡± Lord Lynwood said. Poe rewrapped the gem in the cloth and carefully dropped it into Lord Lynwood¡¯s palm. ¡­ As they were in the carriage, and after Marie had written out a summary of the conversation and put it into the hands of a servant, Marie was puzzled by the variety of magic she¡¯d seen. Nothing was as straightforward as she¡¯d thought. Consulting a raven was possible? How did that work? ¡°Poe, is magic always going to be as confusing as this? I saw a sorcerer cast a spell with nothing but a conduit and a beast core, a group of diviners use a bunch of junk to cast a spell, a blind woman who can see, the sapphire, and the Raven Queen can turn into shadow or summon ravens and attack coppers. ¡­ Is this the way magic really works?¡± ¡°Practical Sorcery is studied, ordered. It¡¯s science. Tested. Analyzed. It started during the blood empire, even as terrible and horrible as it was to live in those times. We are beginning to understand how it all works. Long ago, however, ¡®science¡¯ was a word that just meant an expression of art. Now, we pretend we know better, and give ¡®science¡¯ a meaning that is mechanical; rational. But, it¡¯s not entirely true; performing magic is still art. There are many kinds of artists, even in this rational age.¡± ¡°Am I going to learn all this magic?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be teaching you the principles of modern sorcery; but make no mistake, some magic is nothing at all like the science we talk about.¡± Chapter 6: A War is Coming Month 11, Day 30, 8:00PM Frank Poe A short ride from the Lynwood manor, Poe and Marie stepped out of the carriage at the Hands, Hearts, and Palms massage parlor on the edge of Morrow territory. Down the street were a collection of rough bath-houses, saloons, and dance halls that catered to a rough sort of patron closer to the Mires side of the city. Trash accumulated in the corners; only some of the ¡°nicer¡± businesses managed to keep trash from the doorways. It wouldn¡¯t do to the allure of the entertainments ruined by piles of putrid trash. Madame¡ªthe manager of the Hands, Hearts, and Palms¡ªmade sure that its illiterate customers knew what they were in for: placard over the door showed a painted a pair of hands, with palms in a cupped shape and the overlapping thumbs making a stylized heart, although they did also have a flowing red script of the same. The door itself was black with a shiny brass handle. This early in the evening, customers were walking through the propped door for rendezvous with a delicate beautiful masseuse or a handsome muscular masseur. If those services were focused on relieving tensions beyond the musculature, customers were only charged only a modestly higher fee. This was not the sole source of income for the parlor. Other Illegal services, like premium alchemical concoctions, smoking supplies, and tax-free glamours could be purchased, along with more wholesome services, like water and cloth to make oneself presentable¡ªalthough clear water might be a bit extra. Poe had discovered the Hands, Hearts, and Palms through an investigation for a father concerned about a wayward adult daughter. Poe didn¡¯t find the daughter, or rather, he didn¡¯t find the daughter quickly enough to get paid. His client had a fatal misadventure involving a chair leg, a woman of negotiable affection, three-quarters of a gallon of alcohol, and an angry gang enforcer. Poe followed Marie, who headed straight in. Poe had never been entirely comfortable at Hands, Hearts, and Palms. For one thing, he was never quite sure where to look. The parlor was always populated with masseuses dressed in simple white thigh-length tunics. They all tended to be stunningly attractive, glamoured, and the tunics were very translucent. He was also a little anxious because it was a Morrows-run business. He¡¯d encountered the Morrows before, and they had a worrying tendency toward kidnapping. He knew this from his own cases. The only reason he wasn¡¯t better known to them was that they tended to forget that he¡¯d even been involved. One of the few advantages of the curse. There were, however, plenty of other employees, and to distinguish them, those employees performing ordinary chores¡ªlike washing, fetching water, and doing laundry¡ªwore black. Marie was utterly comfortable among the patrons and employees of the Hands, Hearts, and Palms. She had, after all, been working there herself as a cleaner and greeter when Poe encountered her. In fact, the first time they¡¯d met, she¡¯d kicked him out. She did have the help of the hulking bouncer she greeted by the front entrance. ¡°Hi Dinkey! Is Mama around?¡± ¡°Little Marie, you¡¯s late. Your Mama asks me four times if¡¯n you came back yet.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry. Where is she?¡± ¡°In the ¡®aundry. Who¡¯s with you?¡± Dinkey asked. ¡°It¡¯s Mr. Poe Dinkey; the detective that hired me?¡± ¡°This ¡®im? Looks like a fancy.¡± Poe nodded to Dinkey. He¡¯s already learned from experience, Dinky¡¯s muscles were not for show. Marie giggled. ¡°Maybe Dinkey, maybe. We¡¯ll go on back?¡± Dinkey nodded. As Frank walked past him though the door, Dinky held out his shovel-like hand to stop Poe. ¡°You hurt ¡®er fancy man, you gonna get hurt right back, you understand?¡± ¡°Her person is completely safe with me.¡± Frank replied. ¡°Better be all of ¡®er, not on¡¯y ¡®er person, yeah?¡± ¡°Ah ¡­ yes, of course.¡± Arguing that her ¡°person¡± consisted of ¡°all of her¡± would require a potentially condescending explanation that this particular heavy-lidded and violent man might not take kindly. Frank reckoned that kindly thoughts were preferable with enforcers who had protective and violent tendencies. The hand lifted and Frank proceeded to ¡°the back,¡± which were those rooms and places prohibited to customers. Frank counted that Dinkey, and several other of the bouncers, had given him this warning nearly a dozen times, including at least once for every time he visited. Poe found this a definitely undesirable side-effect of his curse. Because the various bouncers, guards, and enforcers could not remember they¡¯d made the threat, Frank had to hear a version of this little speech every time her walked Marie home from the Agency. But, it comforted Frank, in a way. Marie had people to watch over her, even if they were the employees¡ªand probably gang members¡ªat this shrewd little business. Frank followed Marie down a series of poorly lit hallways. These were the spaces where the staff toiled to keep up the facade of luxury; here, they kept the supplies to stock the rooms with massage oils, cleaning supplies, and spare lamps filled with sweet-smelling oils. The rooms out front were clean and whitewashed; these spaces had a shabby, dirtier, and less well-maintained feel. In the back, in a room that smelled strongly of soap, they kept the enchanted boilers for hot water, the big tubs for cleaning the uniforms and table covers, and generally did the laundry for the business. Black clothed women and men hauled fabric between the washing, rinsing and drying. They chatted about nonsense, and generally worked hard but laughed and joked while they did it. Here is where they found Mama Stella, armful of dried clothes in her arms as she moved to the folding and pressing station. Frank had encountered her before. She was a tough-looking, stern, and thin woman. She had straight black hair, pulled into a bun, and, while working, she wore a plain ankle length black dress and a faded black apron. Frank had never seen her smile at anyone. ¡°Mama!¡± Marie called to her. She rushed forward, but didn¡¯t get in her mother¡¯s way. ¡°I¡¯ve got great news Mama! Mr. Poe is going to apprentice me! I¡¯ll go live at the Agency while he teaches me!¡± Mama dropped her laundry at the folding station, and accepted Marie¡¯s hug. She released Marie and looked down at her disapprovingly. ¡°The investigator you¡¯ve been working for? The one that keeps you out late so your mama worries about you?¡± Frank wasn¡¯t sure he liked the way this was going. ¡°It¡¯s not been that late, and we had work.¡± Marie replied, oblivious to the danger. ¡°You been out all hours of the night, when the Raven Queen is doings her evil blood magic? That Lord Stag has been stirring up trouble? Where have you been?¡± Mama Stella worked up a bit of heat in her voice. ¡°We visited Lord Lynwood, because Mr. Poe had a job with him.¡± ¡°The Pack now too? What is he getting you into? And he wants to apprentice you?¡± ¡°Yeah! He¡¯s a thaumaturge. I saw him scry for the Raven Queen at the copper station!¡± ¡°A wizard?¡± ¡°I mean, yeah ¡­¡± Marie looked over that Frank anxiously ¡°he can do magic.¡± ¡°He keeps you out late at night, takes you to an enemy of Lord Morrow, meddles with things better left alone, is friends with the coppers, AND he wants you to live with him. No. I don¡¯t think so. How are you sure he¡¯s not a scam? Remember that useless luck charm Betty bought? And then she had that bad customer that pulled her hair? I was ok with an honest day job, but this is too much.¡± ¡°Ma¡¯m.¡± Frank spoke up. ¡°We discussed this when I hired Marie; I left you a note about it?¡± ¡°Who are you? I don¡¯t have no time for reading.¡± Mama Stella replied. ¡°That is ¡­ ok. I am Frank Poe, and Marie¡¯s ¡­ boss. Your daughter seems to have a talent for magic, and I think if she were to practice, she could attend University.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll want paying? We don¡¯t have money for that.¡± ¡°No, Marie¡¯s work at the Agency is sufficient to pay her way. I would even provide room and board during her apprenticeship.¡± ¡°What kind of work needs her to live with you? I¡¯ll not sell my daughter to the likes of you.¡± Frank blushed. This was exactly the conversation he didn¡¯t want to have with Mama Stella. If she¡¯d actually read his note ¡­ He kicked himself. She didn¡¯t read the note because she was illiterate. She didn¡¯t remember any of their previous conversations, and he had no other way of making the apprenticeship offer memorable. ¡°Mama, Master Poe isn¡¯t like that!¡± ¡°Master Poe is it? What right does he have to be called a ¡®Master¡¯?¡± Poe would have preferred to drink the laundry water than continue this conversation, and Marie didn¡¯t look much better. ¡°Stella, please. I run a reputable investigative agency, and I do have a license to practice magic at the journeyman level. I do not want your daughter for anything untoward. In fact, I was hoping to invite you to live with her in the rooms above my own?¡± The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°What, and stop working here? What would I eat?¡± ¡°No, not stop work here ¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯s all well and good a fancy man like you living on your own, but I need to work for a living.¡± ¡°I think we¡¯re drifting off course here; Marie has talent, and she would benefit from an apprenticeship. I promise I will treat her like a little sister. Look, I can give you references if you like?¡± ¡°They¡¯d be nouwt to me.¡± ¡°Mama, please?¡± Marie grasped her mother¡¯s hand. ¡°You are happy with this man?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not like that Mama! He¡¯s gonna teach me magic! I can be a sorcerer, why would you keep me from that?¡± Marie¡¯s cry was loud enough, some of the other workers took notice and were clearly trying to listen, without seeming to listen. Mama Stella gave Frank a withering look. He tried to look as innocent as possible. Marie eyes drifted sideways, and her brow furrowed. Frank had seen that look before. Marie pulled her mother back from Frank, and switched to a sweeter, quiet voice. ¡°Mama, if you can¡¯t come live with me, I¡¯ll come visit you first thing every morning, before you go to bed? That way you know I¡¯ll be safe. And if I don¡¯t come, you can send Dinkey to check up on me. I¡¯m sure he¡¯d do it.¡± ¡°Marie, I love you. You know that there¡¯s bad people that will take advantage. You¡¯re just so small.¡± Marie¡¯s mother did smile, and reached down and stroked her child¡¯s hair. ¡°I worry about you. It¡¯s because you were sick when you were young, and I thought you were going to die. If I could, I¡¯d go, but I can¡¯t leave this job. I owe the Morrows.¡± ¡°But, I¡¯ll learn magic, and then no one can hurt me; and I can help and protect you too. If I get a job as a thaumaturge I can pay off the debt!¡± Marie batted away her mother¡¯s hand. ¡°You sure he¡¯s going to teach you magic, and not do ¡­ other things.¡± ¡°No Mama. He¡¯s been great. He¡¯s going to give me money for the job too. I¡¯ll share it with you if you want.¡± ¡°No need to share your money with me, dear, if you¡¯ve earned it. Just, people like that, they get used to taking what they want.¡± Marie lowered her voice to a whisper. Maybe she thought Frank wouldn¡¯t be able to hear over the other who were washing, but the other workers were being pretty quiet. He suspected they¡¯d stilled so they could catch as much of this juicy gossip as possible. ¡°Mama, please trust me. I¡¯m not a kid anymore, and I know what I¡¯m doing. I¡¯ll go without your blessing if I have to, this is a real chance. I still got my knife, in case someone wanted to, you know ¡­¡± ¡°That¡¯s the trouble¡± Mama replied quietly, ¡°not all thems that take use big muscles. Some of ¡®em take with sweets and flowers.¡± Marie looked up at her Mama pleadingly. If she ever looked at Frank that way, he was pretty sure she¡¯d get whatever she wanted. This seemed to be enough for Mama Stella too. ¡°Oh, very well!¡± She huffed. ¡°You come visit me everyday or send somebody with a message. If¡¯n not, Dinkey will come and bring you home and that will be that.¡± She relaxed around the eyes. ¡°If anything happens, you can always come home, hear me?¡± Marie nodded seriously. ¡°I hear you three times, Mama.¡± Her mother turned to Frank. ¡°You better be good to my little girl Lord Poe.¡± Her mother admonished Frank. ¡°Mr. Poe.¡± Frank reflexively replied. ¡°Whatever you call yourself. I know your type. I may just be a maid, but I have friends in the Morrows. Her Papa is an important man!¡± Frank had never met Marie¡¯s father; Marie had come to work for him under a similar vague threat. He reckoned that people did not need to threaten him to persuade him to do the right thing. But, if she was conceding, he wasn¡¯t going to argue a won battle. Marie rolled her eyes a bit at this as well; she didn¡¯t talk about her father, so Frank assumed that he¡¯d abandoned his lover and their little girl. ¡°You can count on me.¡± Frank said. He leaned down to Marie to have a quick conversation. ¡°I don¡¯t know how much your mother is going to remember. If you want to spend the night here, and pack tomorrow?¡± ¡°No. Master Poe, it¡¯s not that much. Just my make-up and some clothing. We should go now while my Mama has said ok.¡± ¡°Look, once I leave, your Mama will forget; you¡¯ll have to do some of this conversation over again, mostly by yourself. Do you think you can?¡± ¡°Yeah. Wait for me out front?¡± ¡°Uh. I¡¯m not really a patron ¡­¡± Frank felt his headache pounding and another blush was coming on. Marie giggled. ¡°You are so silly. Ok, you can wait over by the service entrance in the alley. I¡¯ll come get you when I¡¯m packed up.¡± Marie looked over the room and shouted at a boy who was helping load a tub of fabric. The boy took a little cajoling, but Marie convinced him to show Frank to the back door while she went to pack. Frank found himself deposited outside next to two men and a woman dressed in the white tunics; they had fluffy white dressing robes on, to keep the chill out, and they were casually smoking some sweet smelling herbs wrapped in papers. The trio got quiet when he appeared, shuffling closer together and stiffening in discomfort. Sharing a smoke was a time-tested rapport builder, so Frank searched in his coat for his smoking equipment. His pipe and smoking pouch came out from his specially expanded pockets. He had several smoking mixtures; he chose a kinninnick made from hair-like strips of crimson dogwood and fey alder bark. His blends of kinninnick were practically a potions by themselves, but the smoke would burn hot. His pipe alleviated this problem. Made of three pieces cast iron threaded and joined together, his pipe was a little longer than his forearm and would cool the smoke to keep him from burning his mouth. The smoking pipe was a little work of art as well. The kiseru-style pipe was decorated with a silver sky kraken inlay with clouds, and with enchanted toughness and other protections, it worked as a defensive weapon if he needed. Not quite as useful as a sword or wand, and not as deadly as a knife, but Frank liked it. A long metal smoking pipe could provide leverage on a joint or deflect an edge, and Frank¡¯s mother had made sure he trained with a master in its defensive use. He hoped a pain-relieving smoke would smooth his still pounding head and ease the nausea. He had different treated smoking herbs; nothing addictive, and nothing mind altering. He admired shamans, but not that part of it. He still considered himself a modern sorcerer. With a flourish for the trio, he packed the little bowl with the sweet kinninnick. ¡°Can I get light off you?¡± Frank asked. He had no need for a light; he had mundane and magical means of lighting the pipe on him. It even had a self lighting enchantment. But, asking for a favor would help build rapport, and lower their tension. ¡°Sure.¡± The shorter of the two men offered the end of his little rolled up smoke. Frank held his pipe out, and the man touched the kinninnik to his smoke; Frank lit his pipe with a a quick draw of flame. ¡°Don¡¯t mind me.¡± Frank said, holding the pipe with his finger extended to support its weight, and taking a mouthful of pale white smoke and blowing it out gently. ¡°I¡¯m just waiting for Marie.¡± ¡°Are you ¡­ from around here?¡± The woman asked. ¡°I live nearby, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re asking.¡± Poe replied. ¡°I won¡¯t say anything about you smoking back here, if that¡¯s what worrying you. You needed a break. I get it.¡± The three relaxed a little. They returned to chatting among themselves.Poe tuned them out, and looked up at the stars. The light from the city made it difficult to see all but the brightest stars. The alley had a surprisingly good view of the palace atop the wall as well. The palace was lit this evening with weir lights and shone silver against the dark sky. He¡¯d thought, once, that he¡¯d be working there by now. A respected thaumaturge. A Master. He¡¯d really wanted that. Now, it made him a little sick to think about. Or, it could be nausea from the will strain. ¡°You hear about the big fight down by the Stag¡¯s warehouse?¡± The shorter of the two men said conversationally. ¡°Sure.¡± Frank replied mechanically, lost in his own thoughts, as he was focused on feeling the pain in his temples ease. He drew more smoke into his mouth, held it for a moment, and blew out a white stream of it, ethereal and lit by the dim light at the back door. ¡°I heard Lord Stag himself was there. With the antlers and everything. He knocked out a couple of our boys the other week. They thought they¡¯d get him, but he jumped off his horse and beat ¡®em all senseless.¡± ¡°Hush. You know Morrows don¡¯t like us gossiping about that.¡± The taller man said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± said Poe, ¡°I won¡¯t rat.¡± ¡°The Raven Queen has set herself against us now.¡± The woman said. ¡°She could come for any of us.¡± ¡°That seems a bit petty.¡± Poe said. ¡°A sorcerer ought to have more to worry about.¡± ¡°Yeah. What do you think we did to catch her ire?¡± The taller man asked. ¡°More like, what do you think Lord Stag paid her for her help? What did he promise?¡± The shorter man replied. ¡°Souls, blood. Who knows what she wants?¡± The woman shuddered. Frank snorted a bit of smoke out his nose mid-draw. Souls? That was a bit dramatic. ¡°I heard she turned into a shadow and sent down a flock of ravens on our boys. They even had some sorcerers with them, people from up at the University, and they couldn¡¯t do anything. They had a shield up and everything. Worthless against the Raven Queen¡¯s shadow magic. They were lucky to get away alive.¡± The short man said. ¡°Shadows can¡¯t cut your shin to pieces.¡± The taller man said grimly, and took a drag from his blunt. ¡°I saw ¡®em come in, leg torn up. Like a demon bit him. She was flinging some horrible spell from the top of a tower. Not like a stunner. Real evil magic. I heard it was screaming as it flew at them. Like she was throwing tortured spirits.¡± ¡°Lord Stag is getting bold. Now he¡¯s got the Raven Queen with him? Giving up a couple of poor streets is one thing, but he¡¯s muscling in.¡± The shorter man said. ¡°Hush. Not in front of an outsider.¡± The taller man said. The woman gave Frank a sideways glance. ¡°It¡¯s not a secret. A war is coming. Lord Stag has someone backing him. There¡¯s money there somewhere. Connections.¡± The shorter man replied. ¡°We¡¯ve got connections of our own. We¡¯ll be safe enough from some upstart.¡± The taller man said. ¡°But, the Raven Queen? Nobody has connections like that, except the Stags.¡± The woman was nearly done with her smoke. Just a small bit left. ¡°Just keep the customers happy. Keep your head down, and your hands soft.¡± The tall man finished his smoke as well. He flicked what was left of it in burning arc the struck the ground in a flash of sparks, then he stomped on it. They all nodded. The conversation lulled. Rumors, Frank thought. But also connections. He¡¯d definitely have to try to contact the Stags if he wanted to fulfill Lacer¡¯s commission, and the other one. The apprentice with the bandaged arm. Frank took another contemplative draw on his pipe. The palliative smoke pleasantly reduced his headache. He suspected that the Raven Queen would not have any special use for souls. But, blood, with that she could do a lot of damage. If she really was a blood sorcerer, she was a threat. Would the Red Guard get involved? The idea of monetary support for the Stags raised tantalizing new connections as well. If the one of the powerful Crown families were affiliated, she might have a too-close covert connection to one of them. That would be interesting all by itself. He wondered about the investigative file the coppers would be compiling. Would it reveal which noble families that she might have been affiliated with? Even if she currently had no noble backing, the crown families were always looking for some leverage; the Raven Queen would be a powerful ally, or a dangerous enemy. And not just the magic. The information. Why did she have an element of dreams? Frank gazed back up at the palace. It looked invincible; remote, and impossible to reach. Appearances, Frank thought, aren¡¯t everything. He¡¯d realized that he wouldn¡¯t be able to rest; the Raven Queen wouldn¡¯t be resting. No. She¡¯d be moving in the shadows, just out of sight. He worried that finding her might not be such a good idea after all, but he¡¯d promised, and it was hard, so very, very hard, for him to go back on a promise when the Frigg approved of a case. He might take a case his raven oracle rejected, but he¡¯d always take a case that she recommended to him. The workers went back inside, and Frank finished his pipe. Marie arrived a short time later with a massive bag filled with various lumpy shapes, hard edges, and soft clothing stuffed between. He carried it for her to the street, where they called a carriage and returned home: the offices of the August Agency. Chapter 7: Finding Many Interesting Things Month 12, Day 2, 7:00 AM. Marie They had closed the office for the day. Marie had felt like a poor apprentice, but Poe, from his sleeping couch, insisted. Marie did, however, need the time to set up her apartment. When they had returned to the office, she was very excited. This would be the first time she had a room to herself to sleep in! Then she confronted reality. A mess of discarded junk filled Marie¡¯s third-floor apartment. While the bed could be said to be ready, perhaps, to sleep in, a jumble of cheap crates and broken furniture were piled along the walls. Heaps of dust gathered in the corners, and Marie thought she might have even seen a dust bunny. A sneezing fit forced her downstairs to Poe¡¯s couches to sleep. Thus, on her first night sleeping at the Agency, she had the opportunity to see Poe¡¯s ankle-length, white and blue pin-striped, sleeping gown. Perhaps it was just her upbringing, but she¡¯d never seen night attire so ridiculously conservative. Even her Mama wore a tunic and pants to sleep in. Rising early, she visited her Mama first; walking to the parlor among the early morning crowds headed out for the work in city. Mama was fairly lucid about the previous night¡¯s discussions; although, she has not slept. Mama was a night shift cleaner, so after they had a quiet talk about the apprenticeship, and Mama gave a second and less reluctant blessing for it, she went to bed. Marie returned to her apartment via a boiled egg breakfast at a street vendor. After she returned, Marie cleaned. A lot. It took the entire day, and she still felt it was not up to standard in the end. Her black dress turned grey with the pale dust that covered everything in the room: crates, old furniture, rolled up carpets. She only had three dresses, all black, of course, but the one she liked for wearing when working at her table was the newest, and therefore, the nicest. To clean, she wore a handed-down dress from the workers the Hands, Hearts and Palms. It was shapeless and somewhat ugly, but that was the point. Cleaners weren¡¯t there for the clients. In the crates, she found many interesting things: alchemy equipment, caldrons, chalk, chisels, tiny hammers, a wooden hand plane, saws, jeweler¡¯s loop, magnifiers, strange unreadable journals, metal molds, a tiny anvil, glue, flake shellac, nails, screws, and wire. There were also labeled ingots of lead, tin, copper, zinc, glass and iron, but nothing to melt them in, and no obvious use for them otherwise. Whoever had had dropped off the supplies here before also seemed to be a tailor, or seamstress? But, no obvious mannequin for adjusting clothing. Still, there were many needles, tough waxed thread, thimbles, tan colored ribbon, and a bolt of coarse cloth. And, they had been something of scribe as well, because there was a thick stack of paper and five bottles of ink of different colors and types. Marie also found many pieces of odd, mismatching, and interesting furniture. The few normal pieces of furniture were the two black stools, the black iron framed bed, and an empty black ebonized mule chest, that had a painted white interior. Marie suspected that Poe has arranged those to be delivered, because they were new, and suspiciously matched the table they used as her ¡°desk¡±. But, everything else looked like pieces from a workshop: folding leg tables, a low woodworker¡¯s workbench, a red wooden table at kneeling height with a big circle carved on the top and inlaid with silver, a dry sink, a marble basin etched with glyphs, a metal stand with a treadle (without the machine it worked), and many other interesting tools. There were some necessities included too. A small double-walled stove with cooking top was connected to the chimney, and there was some dusty charcoal in a bin for the fire. To cook with, the room included a single cast iron pan, and to wash with, a tap supplied freezing cold water from the cistern on the roof. For personal necessities, she was have been supplied with an extravagant self-cleaning magical chamber pot and big bowl and pitcher to wash with. The room had glass windows, although some had been patched over with wax paper, so light in the daytime was adequate. For evenings, there were a number of different lamps of several different sizes to choose from, but wicks and oil were in short supply. Finally, she settled on an old ships lamp for her bedside. In some ways it seemed tidier than Poe¡¯s room full of couches. At least if felt like someone could live there. How Poe managed to live in his unpartitioned room made no real sense. Also, with just the stove, and no obvious place to store clothes, it was almost as Poe had some other place he lived. After cleaning her room for a whole day, Marie even wondered how Poe¡¯s room remained relatively dust free. Everything else in the building accumulated dust constantly. Marie¡¯s room had one advantage over Poe¡¯s; there were five folding partitions available, which was nice, because she could divide the space up into rooms, provided that she could have lifted them. Which, she could not. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Poe was asleep and likely still sick, so she went back to her Mama¡¯s and got a drowsy Dinkey out of bed and convinced him to come help her shift everything. After he helped her make a ¡°bedroom,¡± ¡°kitchen,¡± ¡°washroom,¡± and ¡°workroom,¡± she treated the massive man to a big fried fish sandwich off a street vendor, then sent him home to begin his shift. In the end, Marie had found many interesting things, and made her space livable for the time being. Food was her biggest worry; with nothing to cook, and little to cook with, she¡¯s be reliant on food vendors and whatever porridge Poe made. She wasn¡¯t used to luxury, but at least the food had been decent at home. She vowed to try to find a way to make a proper stew and buy bread. It was a long exhausting day, and she fell asleep that evening in her new bed almost immediately. After going to visit her Mama first thing in the morning, when it was still just blue outside, before the sun rose, she returned to the Agency¡¯s office. After she had just opened the door to receive the day¡¯s clients. Poe was awake, she thought, because she heard him in his room boiling water for tea. But, he wasn¡¯t yet down the stairs when another potential customer arrived. One that Marie recognized. ¡°Lieutenant Robards!¡± Marie smiled. ¡°How can the August Agency help you today?¡± ¡°Marie. Is Frank in? I need to hire him; nothing official though.¡± ¡°No Lieutenant. He¡¯s ¡­¡± Marie paused. She didn¡¯t want to give away too much about Frank¡¯s condition, because she didn¡¯t want him to seem like he couldn¡¯t take on work. ¡°He is going to be down shortly. I think he¡¯s just making a tea.¡± ¡°I¡¯m only going to be a few minutes; I need to start my shift at the station.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll go get him.¡± Marie decided Robards was not likely to steal from the office, so she left the Lieutenant to wait while she climbed the stairs to Poe¡¯s room. Poe was, in fact, awake and dressed. As usual, Poe had dressed in an obscene amount of color: a suit decorated in splattered spirals of white, blue, orange and black. He was wearing the Koi overcoat. Marie wondered if he expected to go out. But, otherwise, he was sitting next to his kettle of tea, drinking from a steaming mug that smelled like swamp water. ¡°Marie.¡± He winced. ¡°Is there something wrong?¡± ¡°Lieutenant Robards is back. He wants to commission you for something; it¡¯s personal he says.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Marie thought Poe looked a lot better. He was no longer so pale, and his eyes were bright instead of glassy and sunken. He took his mug with him down the stairs and met Lieutenant Robards in his office. ¡°Alright Calder. No magic. I know you heard about what happened by now. It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t appreciate the work, but it¡¯s detective work only for awhile.¡± ¡°No. That¡¯s not why I¡¯ve stopped by. I met a boy that tells me that he has a curse. So ¡­¡± ¡°I have curse, so I must be an expert, eh?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll know more than most. Just, as a favor, take a look?¡± ¡°I guess I can.¡± ¡°How much are you paying?¡± Marie asked. ¡°I don¡¯t have a lot of money to spare on this, half a gold to just take a look and give an opinion¡­¡± ¡°That¡¯s not very much. We have to eat you know.¡± Marie replied. ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous Marie. I don¡¯t need Calder¡¯s money. Although¡­¡± ¡°What? I know that look. You¡¯re about to suggest something I won¡¯t like.¡± ¡°Can I take a peek at the Siobhan Naught file?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Won¡¯t be a long peek or anything.¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°So, will the file have the evidence on which of the Crown families attempted to buy her off, or is that part omitted?¡± ¡°N ¡­ Wha ¡­ Who told you that?¡± ¡°Only makes sense. Why keep her father in a place she can talk to him? Why not sentence him to something horrible right away? I just want to know who tried it. Her Father has confessed by now. Everyone seems to know a lot about her already.¡± Poe shrugged. ¡°Or, they know as much as could be known about a homeless drifter girl.¡± ¡°The file is confidential.¡± ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll do your favor if you ask Kuchen to give me access. He doesn¡¯t even need to hire me. In exchange, I promise I won¡¯t make a play at the reward. Just list me as a consultant; after all, I¡¯ve already done some of that for you.¡± Poe sipped his tea. Marie, however, was not satisfied with this bargain. ¡°Now just wait. The bounty went up. I saw posters yesterday.¡± Marie said. ¡°It¡¯s a five hundred gold crowns! That¡¯s a lot of money we could use, you know, to buy books and train me to become the best sorcerer in all of Gilbratha.¡± Poe choked on the tea in an effort to keep it from spraying everywhere. ¡°Please don¡¯t say things like that in front of ¡­ our esteemed law-enforcement client.¡± He choked out. He coughed a bit into his tea. ¡°Oh.¡± Marie realized she may have implied more than was safe. ¡°I mean, you agreed to sponsor me, right?¡± Robards looked between them. He just frowned. ¡°I sense you aren¡¯t telling me something Frank.¡± ¡°I am sure I¡¯m not telling you many things.¡± Poe cleared his throat. ¡°But, there isn¡¯t time to discuss all of them, is there? I think I can forgo the 500 ¡­ actually no.¡± Poe leaned back and tapped his lips with a finger. ¡°Here¡¯s what we¡¯ll do. If Kuchen hires me it¡¯ll be on contingency; if I find the Raven Queen, and my information leads to her direct arrest, I¡¯ll get whatever the current reward is. If I don¡¯t, I won¡¯t even ask for expenses while I look for her. You talk to your office to pay me in information, and I¡¯ll take a look at the boy for you whether or not I get the job or information.¡± The lieutenant seemed to weigh this offer very carefully. ¡°I can¡¯t promise Kuchen will allow it.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t need to. You are the most honest copper I know Calder; your word is good. Tell me that you made the attempt to get me this deal, and I¡¯ll check the boy at your earliest convenience.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°It¡¯s just some words Calder. I¡¯m not asking for you to swim the Charybdis Gulf.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know what Kuchen is like.¡± Robards responded. ¡°But, this is a good kid, and he¡¯s practically a hero, although he¡¯ll deny it.¡± ¡°Excellent. We¡¯re agreed, right? Marie? Memorialize this conversation for Lieutenant Robards.¡± ¡°Memorialize?¡± ¡°Write it down.¡± Marie took Robards around to her black table and wrote him a long note. She handed it to him, and he left for work successfully reminded. Poe came out of his office, coat still on. ¡°It¡¯s time to consult Frigg.¡± Chapter 8: Consulting Frigg Month 12, Day 3, 8:30 AM Marie ¡°Do you have a jacket or cardigan or something?¡± Poe asked. ¡°Why?¡± Marie generally was warm enough without much more than her dress. Yes, everyone else around her insisted that she should be cold. She just never felt that way. ¡°It¡¯s a little wet today, and on the roof it will be cold, and we will have to wait. Frigg is a little temperamental around strangers.¡± ¡°I have a boiled wool ruana cloak.¡± ¡°Is it black?¡± ¡°It¡¯s. Ugh. It¡¯s black on one side and red on the other.¡± ¡°Red. Really?¡± ¡°Red is ok. Ok?¡± Marie muttered. She didn¡¯t like red, but her Mama insisted that she have something she could show the Morrows that she was, on whatever technicality, one of them, because she would be safer that way. In Morrows territory she could wear it red side out. Ruana were cheap to make and own, because a ruana was not much more than a square blanket with a slit halfway to the middle so you could drop it over your shoulders and wrap one side of the front over the other. Or, you could belt it around your waist and make a sort of sleeveless jacket. ¡°Ok. Let¡¯s go up to the roof. I¡¯ll show you what we need to do when we get there.¡± They made their way to the roof, with a short stop for Marie to get her ruana and cloak pin. She wrapped it around her shoulders, and took the brass pin, which had been made from a broken skeleton key with handle broken off, to pin it. Encased in the waist-length thick wool, she ascended the stairs through the attic and climbed the hatch onto the roof. Marie gawked at the city in the misty morning. The Agency¡¯s building wasn¡¯t the tallest one on this street, but it was slightly taller than those around it. From here Marie could see down on the people walking on the streets, over the roofs to the vast city of buildings, forest of chimneys, and had a clear view of the great white walls that surrounded them. The top of the walls, where the University and the High Crown sat, were obscured by a fog that had rolled off the gulf that morning. But, the sun was just beginning to burn it away, so that she could see everything in the distance shadowed in blue and white. Everything had a dream-like quality, and even the sounds of city seemed muffled, like hearing voices while hiding under the blankets. ¡°Poe. Master. ¡­ This is kinda nice. It¡¯s a little wet, but this is a pretty nice roof. Will we be doing much magic up here?¡± ¡°No. Well, maybe. It depends on how many lessons we do on animism and shamanry.¡± The roof was a little cold. In fact, it was not a very pleasant day. There was a sort of drizzle and mist, and Marie¡¯s black hair was already wet. She was grateful the cloak was there to keep the intermittent damp off her clothes. Poe sat on the roof next to a bowl, and gestured for her to join him. Marie thought the bowl might be made of iron, because it showed some reddish rust spots on the side, but it appeared enameled with a black and shiny interior. Unfamiliar markings surrounded its rim. ¡°So. First lesson. All magic requires a conduit. Almost anything can be a conduit, but there is one type of conduit that you must never, ever, use. Have you ever seen a bright dust addict?¡± ¡°Sure. Last year, Paleface Tom came in to the shop and he tried to stab the Morrows¡¯ auditor, Truthful Harry, over money. It was so weird, because Paleface had been a Morrow courier for awhile, Truthful Harry was his friend, and Paleface never seemed like he was a fighter or anything. Really, Paleface wasn¡¯t like some of the Morrows: he didn¡¯t beat on employees, and he never even tried for a freebie before.¡± Marie sighed. ¡°Anyway, Harry couldn¡¯t keep get ahold of him, and Dinky had to come.They both grabbed him, and got the knife away from him, but Paleface bit Dinky. Dinky didn¡¯t like that.¡± Marie thought about the hot rage she¡¯d seen in Dinky; and Paleface just seemed completely wild and screaming wordlessly. Marie had a lot of nightmares after, and Mama hadn¡¯t even scolded her about it. She continued, ¡°Paleface wasn¡¯t very big, but he kept trying to hurt Dinky and Harry. They couldn¡¯t even grab him. He was super strong and Dinky had to hit him until he stopped moving. The coppers came and made us tell about what happened, and Dinky didn¡¯t even get in trouble. Later, they said Paleface was on bright dust.¡± Poe blanched. ¡°You saw ¡­¡± Marie nodded. ¡°That was much worse than ¡­¡± He stopped himself from pointless commentary, and he worked back around to the topic. ¡°So, bright dust makes the people that use it feel invincible. And, it¡¯s not all feelings; they become stronger, they move faster, they don¡¯t feel pain. They also can¡¯t feel right from wrong, can¡¯t feel empathy, and become irrationally violent. And once the user has felt like that once, they want that feeling again, over and over, until they only want the drug and nothing else.¡± ¡°And? Mama has told me not get mixed up with stuff like that. You couldn¡¯t¡­ You don¡¯t need drugs to learn magic do you?¡± ¡°What? Myrddin no! I¡¯m trying to explain.¡± Poe rubbed his face with a hand. ¡°So, the minimum you need to cast magic is a conduit for the magic to flow, but. Never. Use. Yourself. As. A. Conduit.¡± Poe looked at Marie meaningfully. ¡°Is it like bright dust?¡± ¡°It¡¯s something like bright dust. You will never want to stop casting spells. You won¡¯t stop until you are dead or are an aberrant. Bright dust addiction is actually better; you can treat someone addicted to bright dust. There¡¯s nothing you can do for someone who cast magic using their body as a conduit. You would be better getting addicted to bright dust and having your friend bash your head in.¡± ¡°I think I understand.¡± Marie wasn¡¯t sure, but she¡¯d known people who used drugs, so if it was just an addiction it would be bad, but adults liked to exaggerate. Something in her tone did not convince Poe. ¡°I am not so sure you do. Let¡¯s use an another example. Have you ever been afraid?¡± ¡°I mean, sure, I guess. Scary things have happened at the parlor.¡± There weren¡¯t murders on a nightly basis or anything, but troublemakers inside the Morrows and out could show up. ¡°Sometimes people got hurt? A spider jumped on my hand once and it scared me.¡±For a second. She wasn¡¯t frightened by bugs. It was, however, a very disturbing black spider that seemed to hop about. ¡®It¡¯s not so scary when you get a proper look at it.¡¯ Marie thought. ¡°Spiders are not really scary or anything.¡± Marie reassured Poe. And maybe herself, a little. ¡°Have you ever been afraid of a fire?¡± Poe asked. ¡°I guess, a little. It¡¯s hot.¡± ¡°Would you ever jump in a fire? Like run into a burning building.¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Not even to save your Mama?¡± ¡°Well, I might to save Mama.¡± ¡°What if you knew the fire would kill you if you jumped in, would you still do it?¡± ¡°Would it save my Mama?¡± ¡°No.¡± Marie knew what the right answer was. ¡®I¡¯d try anyway.¡¯ Marie thought. ¡®That had to be the right answer, wasn¡¯t it? It¡¯s your mama. You do whatever it took to try to save your mama, wouldn¡¯t you?¡¯ ¡°I guess I¡¯d try.¡± Marie said aloud. ¡°Marie, you are a credit to your Mama. But, fire here is a metaphor. An example. This is the problem with channeling magic through your body: If you jump into that fire, you will die. The heat and flames will burn you until there is nothing left. Worse, casting magic without a conduit is also like Bright Dust: you wouldn¡¯t even care about your Mama anymore. You could be standing right next to her in the fire, and you¡¯d just rather burn than save her.¡± Marie though this sounded like a very bad way to die. She knew death; she¡¯d seen it. A homeless man that froze in the alley. A prostitute beaten too hard, and too often, that alleviated the pain with too much alcohol and illicit potions. ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡± ¡°You need to know it.¡± Poe lowered his voice. ¡°Horrible things happen to people that choose, even for an instant, to channel magic through their bodies. They poke out their own eyes to see better. They cast magic to fly and never come down. They¡¯ll try to raise the dead, even if it¡¯s futile, and sacrifice themselves to try to make it happen. They¡¯ll open portals to the elemental planes, jump through, and never be seen again.¡± Poe did not relent, and he moved his face quite close, eyes boring into her. Poe delivered this explanation softly, whispering it: ¡°And, they become aberrants: creatures of magic that propagate a single magical effect. A creature that turned every living thing it touched into gold: animals, plants, insects, their friends, family, children, anything! Then, surrounded by the golden dead, it sought out other living things to turn into gold. One propagated a mist of toxin that killed only people, then those that died turned into more of the mist, killing endlessly. One man turned himself into a tree; those that saw it unprotected would dream of bliss living under its golden canopy, but they would never wake up.¡± Poe sighed. ¡°The Red Guard protects us from these monsters. But don¡¯t forget, they all start as people, and you never want to make the mistake of casting through your body or you can become one too.¡± As each story grew more terrifying, Marie began to wonder how they managed to live in world with magic at all. ¡°Do you understand Marie?¡± She nodded. ¡°So. If you are to perform magic, what do you need first, before all other things?¡± The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°A conduit.¡± ¡°And if you have nothing to use as a conduit?¡± ¡°I ¡­ won¡¯t cast magic.¡± Marie replied, a bit wide eyed. ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±Poe leaned back and brought out from his coat a piece of cerelium the size of a cherry stone. It was utterly clear, like a perfect piece of glass. But it wasn¡¯t cut or shaped in any way. ¡°This is your first conduit, Marie. You need larger and larger conduits as you practice, but your first spells will be small, so you don¡¯t need much.¡± Marie opened her hand and he dropped the shiny stone onto her palm. She wrapped her fingers around it, and rubbed her thumb across the surface. It felt smooth, but not regular. It also felt heavy for its size, but she might have been imagining it. ¡°You have the first piece of modern sorcery: a conduit. Practical sorcery requires three additional things: Will, Word, and Sacrifice. Let¡¯s do a very simple spell.¡± Poe dig through his pockets and found a silver coin, a black piece of a raven¡¯s beak, and a berry that looked like it was a blueberry, but was yellow and shimmered whenever you squeezed it. He then pulled out dividers with a pair of sharp ends, metal straight edge, and a scribing tool. ¡°First we¡¯ll mark out the spell array.¡± Marie now understood why the geometry lessons were in the book. Poe showed her how to lay out a circle using the tools, and showed her how to mark it with a perfect triangle. He used the scribing to outline and draw more etched circles with bright lines on the dark metal roof, then connected them with lines, then he showed her how all these lines made a simple spell array. Then he put all the pieces at their proper places. While he did, he described the magical effect they were going to get. ¡°Centuries ago, hunters would call animals to them so that they could trap an eat them. So, they¡¯d call the animals with birdsong, the sound of other animals, or other tricks. We¡¯re going to do that now. This doesn¡¯t summon animals, or compel them, or anything so extreme. This just attracts their attention, and they come and look.¡± Marie nodded. ¡°So, this spell convinces animals to do what you want?¡± ¡°No. It makes sound. Controlling the minds of creatures is a different, difficult, and sometimes forbidden magic. It¡¯s Blood magic more often than not. There is also the magic of Witches and Animism, Shamans, and other things to connect with animals, but those aren¡¯t practical sorcery.¡± Poe shrugged. ¡°Some sorcerers might talk about how modern magic is better. And, it can be. But. Do not look down on the old magics; good sorcerers study modern magic and understand it¡¯s aspects to the fullest. Great sorcerers understand the history of magical practices as well. Take Grandmaster Lacer for example ¡­¡± Poe paused at Marie¡¯s confused look. ¡°The Professor that came into the Agency? Is he good or something?¡± Poe sputtered a bit. ¡°You¡¯ve never heard of Thaddeus Lacer?¡± ¡°Not really. Should I have?¡± ¡°How can you not ¡­ ¡± Poe muttered, but then seemed to think better of the question. Marie wasn¡¯t sure what the problem was. She¡¯d never really cared about magic before. It wasn¡¯t that odd to see a wand here and there, and the laundry at the parlor had some enchanted stuff, but who could keep track of specific sorcerers? Most of the ones she knew were on the wanted posters. ¡°Anyway,¡± Poe said, ¡°my point is, someone doesn¡¯t become an Archmage without knowing a lot of different magics. This particular spell will transfer heat into sound. I¡¯ll try to teach you several spells that transfer minor amounts of different kinds of energy into other types of energy: heat, light, sound, force, magnetic attraction and so on. That way you can learn some basic exercises that will improve and strengthen your will.¡± Marie could only nod. She wondered what ¡°magnetic attraction¡± was, but it seemed like Poe was in his stride. ¡°Now, tell me what you know about sound.¡± Marie thought for a moment. ¡°Uh, if I cover my ears, sound isn¡¯t as loud? Musical instruments make sound by hitting or bowing a string, and people make sound by singing and that sort of thing ¡­¡± She felt a little dumb. Was there more to know about sound than that? ¡°Excellent. You already know the most important part of sound. We hear with our ears. What we think of as sound is actually vibrating air. Examinations have shown that inside our ear is a tiny, tiny drum that vibrates sympathetically with the moving air, and a tiny little snail-shaped structure that transfers these sounds to our brain, which processes the sound into what we hear. If we cover our ears, or stuff them with out fingers, or cotton, then we don¡¯t hear anything, because we¡¯ve blocked the vibrations. Sound is just our mind¡¯s interpretation of the vibrating air. Follow me so far?¡± ¡°But, how will magic make the sound?¡± ¡°In a way, the same way that we sing. Have you studied the chapters on music in the primer?¡± ¡°Yes. I¡¯ve covered string instruments and singing.¡± ¡°So, when singing, the vocal chords in our throat vibrate as the air moves past them, and we change the shape of our airway, tighten and loosen the chords, and change the shape of our mouth to make the different pitches and sounds.¡± Poe grinned. ¡°It sounds impossible to describe it, but we practice our whole lives to make these sounds, so it¡¯s thoughtlessly easy.¡± ¡°But, what does sound have to do with magic?¡± ¡°If you want to make a sound like a raven, you need to understand that your spell is going to mimic the vibration of that you would make if you were a raven, breathing in the air, and pushing it out through your craw to make the sound. Let me show you the parts of the spell array.¡± Marie thought Poe had been pretty detailed so far, but as he explained the parts of the spell array, how the comments symbolized the raven and the sound a raven makes, she realized that he had just barely begun. He talked about power requirements, will, and components, and the difference between glyphs and words (which this spell array used both).He also explained how it wouldn¡¯t be safe to cross the boundary of the array and how heat from the air would power this magic. After a great deal of explaining, he finally imitated the ¡°kraa¡¯ sound with his voice. Poe then guided Marie through the her very first spell. She couldn¡¯t really describe it. She took some time to finally capture the sense of demanding that the spell work: just willing it to happen. There was a sense of touching without using her fingers, or tasting without eating, or seeing without opening her eyes. She was moving the magic through the spell array with the conduit and her thoughts alone. ¡°You must desire the spell.¡± Poe whispered to her. ¡°Like you want nothing else. Like all you ever wanted was to make the sound of a raven. That¡¯s what using your will is like. It¡¯s pure, refined intent.¡± Activating the spell array, out of nothing, came a strange ¡°kraa¡± that was deep and foreboding. It was real, like a raven unseen, but, like it existed just a pace away. And, it was much louder than Marie expected. The sound wasn¡¯t just heard. It penetrated her chest, and the call rumbled in her bones. ¡°Very good Marie! Very very good.¡± Poe exclaimed. Marie felt a thrill at his praise. She did it! ¡°Oh.¡± She sighed. For as good as it felt to accomplish the spell, Marie felt very tired. She thought she¡¯d slept, but she craved a nap. ¡°Now rest a bit. This is your first time casting magic, and it takes energy. Your Will gets used up, and right now, you don¡¯t have much to start with. If you try to use more than you have, you¡¯ll get more than tired. You¡¯ll have headaches to start, then dizziness, irritability, irrationality, unconsciousness and death.¡± Poe ticked each of these off with his fingers. ¡°You¡¯ll be careful then, to not cast? To only cast when I am supervising you?¡± Marie nodded her agreement. ¡°I¡¯m going to take a moment to select an offering to Frigg. I¡¯ll try to pick something that will symbolize this boy.¡± Poe seemingly felt around inside his coat. Marie couldn¡¯t tell how many pockets it had, but it seemed like a lot, given how much rummaging he seemed to be doing. Finally, he pulled a moth from his pocket. It was alive and he nearly dropped it. ¡°What the ¡­ ?¡± Poe recoiled. ¡°Looks like you need to clean your coat more often.¡± Marie was teasing him; Poe¡¯s clothes, while gaudy, never showed a speck of dirt or stains. Even on the misty roof, his coat didn¡¯t even appear wet. ¡°I assure you, my coat is perfectly clean.¡± Frank held the moth between his fingers, and it beat its wings against them. ¡°Now, where did you come from?¡± He asked it. It didn¡¯t seem to have an answer for him. ¡°Do ravens eat moths?¡± Marie asked. ¡°Good question. I will answer with what I know: I have never seen a raven eat a moth, and I have never read or heard that ravens eat, specifically, moths.¡± Marie considered this answer for a moment. ¡°But, that doesn¡¯t tell me if Ravens eat moths. Why don¡¯t you just say ¡®I don¡¯t know¡¯?¡± ¡°Because it is fundamentally difficult for anyone to admit they don¡¯t know something, and I don¡¯t like it when I don¡¯t have an answer.¡± Pow hummed a bit as the moth struggled in his hand. ¡°Let¡¯s do an experiment. Ravens eat many things; and, being a bird, many birds eat bugs. Using this general idea, I¡¯m going to guess that Frigg will eat this bug if offered. I¡¯ll put it in the bowl, and then we will test.¡± ¡°Won¡¯t it just fly away?¡± ¡°No.¡± The moth stilled in Poe¡¯s hand. He gently placed it inside the bowl. Defying all of Marie¡¯s experiences with moths, it stayed there, crawling around inside the bowl. ¡°By the way, if Frigg eats the moth, will we have proven that ravens eat moths?¡± Poe asked. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°No. We will have proven that Frigg ate this moth. And if Frigg doesn¡¯t eat the moth, what then?¡± ¡°Um. That Frigg didn¡¯t eat this moth?¡± ¡°Yes. In that moment Frigg chose not to eat the moth, and we won¡¯t know exactly why not. Whatever she chooses, we won¡¯t generalize yet. After many experiments and observations, eventually we¡¯ll know. But not with the first observation.¡± Poe barely finished speaking when the shadow of a raven streaked between them, then wings flashed over Poe¡¯s shoulder. A huge black raven bounded between them, and it knocked over the bowl. The moth fluttered out of the bowl, smacked Poe in the face, then flew erratically into the morning sky. The raven landed properly, hopped back and forth, then stared straight at Poe. ¡°Kraa.¡± The raven seemed very certain. Then, seemingly agitated at the bowl, the raven pecked at it, then twisted its head to get a good look at the bowl and Marie, then flew onto Marie¡¯s shoulder. Marie squeaked, but she tried to stay very very still. Her heart pounded. She¡¯d never been this close to a raven before. This one seemed bigger than the ones flying over the city. But maybe it seemed so big because the raven¡¯s sharp beak was inches from her face. It¡¯s talons bit into her cloak, but didn¡¯t seem to be gripping very hard. Marie turned her head slowly and tried to see the whole bird. Her feathers looked like a black rainbow in sunlight. ¡®She¡¯s beautiful.¡¯ Marie thought.The shine on her feathers was only apparent when you could see her closely. ¡°Ah.¡± Poe said. He had a smudge where the moth hit him in the face. ¡°Um. Master Poe?¡± ¡°Welcome Frigg. This is my apprentice, Marie.¡± Poe slightly bowed his head. Frigg fluffed Marie¡¯s hair with her sharp beak, then she hopped off Marie¡¯s shoulder and strutted back and forth between Poe and her.Marie wasn¡¯t sure how you were supposed to greet a raven. If Poe was planning on explaining, he hadn¡¯t gotten to that part yet. So, she settled on a compliment. After all, wasn¡¯t that the best way to make a first impression? ¡°What clever hunter you are!¡± Then, Marie realized that the Raven had her brass cloak pin grasped in its talons. ¡°And, you are a cunning thief.¡± Marie concluded wryly. Marie wasn¡¯t sure if she should try to take the pin back or not. Poe interrupted her before she could do anything about it. ¡°Frigg. I had a question about a boy ¡­ Calder says he¡¯s cursed.¡± ¡°Kraa. Kraa!¡± Frigg replied. Poe took this pronouncement gravely, frowning and furrowing his brow a bit. Frigg nodded. Or, that¡¯s what she seemed to have done. How could a bird understand him? Frigg looked at Marie for a long moment. ¡°Kraa.¡± Frigg said quietly. She picked up the cloak pin in her beak, and she flapped he wings and landed, again, on Marie¡¯s shoulder. She bumped her head against Marie, then she pushed heavily off Marie and flapped up and away, whirling and flying back off toward the Mires with Marie¡¯s cloak pin still in her possession. ¡°So.¡± Poe said after watching Frigg fly off. ¡°That was interesting.¡± ¡°She did not eat the moth?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°She stole my cloak pin?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°I need another one.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°What was that about?¡± ¡°Magic. But a very specific kind. It¡¯s called Augry, and most diviners use it with groups of animals, or clouds, or similar.¡± Poe replied. ¡°We can read out hints of the future through augury, but what we really get is an image of the shape of the present. It¡¯s like looking at the bottom of a canal and trying to see the fish through the murk. Frigg¡¯s behavior gives us hints, if we can understand them, into the future. It¡¯s part of the magic.¡± Poe smiled. ¡°She likes you, for some reason. I didn¡¯t think she wanted me to take you as an apprentice, but it seems like that¡¯s because I¡¯m not good enough for you.¡± ¡°She stole my cloak pin. What¡¯s that mean?¡± ¡°She likes cloak pins.¡± Poe answered. Marie felt this did not explain anything. But, she trusted Poe, and wanted to be a good apprentice, so she didn¡¯t complain. Chapter 9: People Like a Good Story Frank reckoned that was a productive morning. But. He regretted offering the moth. Frigg correctly rejected it. As with many choices that would cause unintended effects, offering the moth had seemed good at the time. Upon reflection, it was a poor choice to represent a young boy, even if he was cursed. Her reaction was unusually violent, but given how bad the offering was, she was probably just scolding him. Moreover, the moth may have seemed a little like an offering of food. Frigg was no pigeon, begging for scraps. She might consent to some offering of food outside the ritual ¡­ but to offer food during it? Frank felt lucky her reaction was not more violent. He didn¡¯t mention it to Marie, but when knocking over the bowl, the raven had slashed at his hand, and scraped it painfully. He rubbed the scratch on his hand. Frigg¡¯s reaction surprised Poe so much that he hadn¡¯t even introduced Marie properly. He was lucky that the introduction had gone as well as it had. But, he wasn¡¯t his most in tune with the world right now. There could be other reasons for Frigg¡¯s reaction. He¡¯d have to keep an open mind. Stealing the cloak pin was another matter. This shocked Frank. The Raven never stole from him. Their meetings were exchanges; he offered, and Frigg either accepted (or not). But. Marie had not offered it. The theft suggested that the Raven had some specific use for the cloak pin. That she¡¯d taken something was usually her approval. ¡®Now what?¡¯ Frank wondered. He wouldn¡¯t see the boy for at least a day or two. Will strain cut him off from magic, and he¡¯d completely forgotten to ask Frigg about the Stags. They were, at least for now, the most likely source for information. And, he didn¡¯t know nearly enough to know whether contacting the Stags would would be sailing too close to the wind. They climbed down the roof, and Frank found his headache reminded him of its presence. Healing potions could only go so far. His tea had also helped, but it¡¯s slightly soporific effect had already worn off. When they reached the office, Frank retrieved a small blank volume out of his component chest to give Marie. It would serve to start a student¡¯s grimoire, and finally returned his heirloom conduit to the chest with the beast core. He had a thaumaturge-created diamond rated at just over a thousand thaums that he kept tucked in a pocket. If he needed to bring out the family heirloom for an ordinary investigative work, something would have gone so wrong that magic wouldn¡¯t get him out of it. Besides, it was just unnecessary temptation. Frank retrieved his glasses, and put them on. The world always looked a little better through the amber glass, but it never became any better. Preparing to leave, and standing in the outer office next to Marie¡¯s table, Poe found himself wondering if he should invite Marie, or leave her behind for safety sake. But, it was the middle of the day; hardly the time of day when hardened gang members prowled the streets. Bringing her ought to be safe enough. The curse was an ever-present problem. He couldn¡¯t count on Lord Stag to be immune. ¡°How do you feel about the Verdant Stag?¡± He asked. Marie shrugged. ¡°They are dangerous. Mama doesn¡¯t like them. They took some territory from the Morrows, and that didn¡¯t go over well with some of the bosses.¡± Marie looked pensive for a moment; she was always reluctant to tell Frank too much about the Morrows. ¡°The employees working at the massage tables don¡¯t like it that the Stags are running the Silk Door; it¡¯s a classy place, and a sort-of competitor.¡± ¡°I am familiar with it.¡± Poe nodded. Marie cocked her head at him. Then Poe felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment. ¡°From a job! not ¡­ I would never ¡­¡± ¡°Yeah ok.¡± Marie rolled her eyes and gave a little tut of exasperation. ¡°But, anyway, the pay is a little better over there. I know some of the fellas working there because they were independent and switched over. Some people thought we lost customers. Madame didn¡¯t seem too worried though, and our books were fine.¡± Poe tried to ignore that topic. Marie had learned to read and write from the proprietor of the parlor, and had even been taught enough to be a sort of greeter. Marie was more prepared for this sort of thing than he was. Frank Poe could admit to himself that he was thoroughly naive when it came to the non-magical underworld. ¡°Will there be an issue if we visit the Verdant Stag together?¡± ¡°No. I¡¯ll just leave my cloak. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be made for a member of the Morrows or anything. But, I¡¯d like a cloak pin for it. I can twist and tie it and things, but it¡¯s better with a pin. Do you have one I can borrow?¡± ¡°I can buy you one just around the corner. There¡¯s second-hand shop.¡± Frank strode out into the street with Marie following. A few years ago, Frank would have made the pin with a bit of transmutation. Now, even without will strain, he wouldn¡¯t do that anymore. Building an untested spell array for such a frivolous task may have expanded his will, but he couldn¡¯t justify the risk of untested arrays in his current condition. This close to the mires, there wasn¡¯t much in the way a jewelers. But, around the corner was a junk shop that should have at least a penannular cloak pin. The shop had a pair of green antlers carefully painted in the corner of a window, but otherwise seemed to be what one would expect: a run-down secondhand shop, buying low from whoever brought in a trinket to sell, and selling high to whatever member of the browsing public it could attract. They ducked into it; literally, in Frank¡¯s case, because the doorway was unusually short. They paused for a moment to allow their eyes to adjust to the low light. Frank didn¡¯t remove his glasses, even if they did make the room a bit more dim than it actually was. The shop had racks of second-hand clothes, trays of junk, and dusty second-hand household goods. Marie wandered into the racks. Frank stepped to the counter to see if he could get service. Frank frowned. The pair of shopkeepers at the counter seemed to resemble vultures. Their eyes were taking in those that were weaker, and perhaps more desperate to buy. When they saw Frank, he had the impression of circling a dead animal. He just knew that he was going to be overcharged. ¡°Feel free to browse, my Lord.¡± The greyer, and more senior of the two, said with an entirely too obsequious bow. ¡°Not a Lord. Show me to your cloak pins.¡± ¡°Yes of course, sir.¡± And then Frank had the opportunity to see a tray of bejeweled cloak pins that were both ugly and fake. It was intolerable. Except, Frank had to admit he wasn¡¯t the young member of a crown family any more. What offense should he take, really? No proper Lord ought to be caught anywhere near this establishment. ¡°Hmm.¡± Frank gazed over the selection. Marie had been browsing the clothes, and she came over to view the tray with him. ¡°Ah sir! Is this your ¡­ lady?¡± The salesman struggled to discern the relationship, and failed. ¡°No.¡± Frank and Marie responded simultaneously. ¡°Which one would you pick, if you wanted one?¡± Frank asked her. Marie looked at him quizically. ¡®Right.¡¯ He thought, ¡®she¡¯ll want something black.¡¯ ¡°Do you have anything in black?¡± Frank asked the shopkeeper. Marie nodded to him. ¡°Yes, sir. Of course.¡± And he returned with a tray of more normal cloak pins and broaches, with several black pieces mixed in with silver and brass. Frank could tell instantly which one Marie would pick: a jet black penannular cloak pin, but that had two black stones mounted at either end of the broken circle. ¡°Which one do you like?¡± Frank asked. Marie pointed to the one he¡¯d suspected. ¡°Now, what price for this?¡± Frank asked the vulturine salesman, lifting the pin from the tray. ¡°A very fine choice, sir. A very fine mounting in pure silver, with two black wizard-garnets set in it.¡± The fellow cooed. Frank very much doubted the pin was silver, or mounted with garnets. A garnet that dark practically was indistinguishable from a many lesser stones. The metal, moreover, was almost completely black. If it was silver, it seemed like it had been specially treated to make it black. ¡°With such fine stones, only two gold.¡± ¡°One gold.¡± ¡°Oh sir, you wound me. Such a low price, it cuts me to the bone.¡± ¡°Really? Fine.¡± Frank dropped the pin, and gestured for Marie to join him as he strode out. Marie reluctantly followed. They stopped just out of view of the shop windows. ¡°Marie. Don¡¯t sulk.¡± ¡°Why would I do that?¡± ¡°Here¡¯s a crown coin. Go back inside and negotiate a better price. You can keep the change.¡± Marie reentered with a determined look. Frank lurked by the shop door, hoping to catch snatches of the conversation. ¡°How can I help you?¡± This time, the same salesman gave no bow. Frank put that down to his flamboyant clothes. Only someone very rich or vain, or perhaps both, would dress as he did. Either way, Frank always looked like a payday for some retail salesman. The clothes never seemed to work to make him memorable, but he had bought them, so he reckoned that he should keep wearing them. ¡°Just browsing for a pin.¡± Marie made a show of looking at the trays the man had left on the counter. ¡°Of course.¡± The man paused, and looked at her. ¡°Do you know, you look a little like the Raven Queen?¡± Frank couldn¡¯t see her expression, but he imagined it was less friendly than when she met with clients at the Agency. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°If I was the Raven Queen, do you think I would be in a junk shop?¡± The man stiffened. ¡°My shop has only the finest second-hand goods.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± Marie said scathingly. ¡°Look at these cloak pins.¡± Marie pointed at one in the tray. ¡°Bent. Made of pot metal and gilded to look better.¡± She selected another one. ¡°This one¡¯s gems are just colored glass.¡± Then she picked up her target, the black cloak pin. ¡°Ugh. With such poor selection, I¡¯ll just make do with this one. It¡¯s got to be the cheapest of the lot, with how ugly it is.¡± ¡°Can I say though, it matches your hair?¡± ¡°It¡¯s black, duh. I¡¯ll pay three pennies for it.¡± ¡°No, I couldn¡¯t sell it for so little.¡± ¡°How much then?¡± ¡°It really is a fine piece; very sturdy. It will last you a lifetime. Worth at least 100 times that; those are garnets you know.¡± ¡°Black river-stones more like.¡± ¡°I assure you, they are quite genuine. Wizard-made. I couldn¡¯t part with it for less than a half crown.¡± Marie moved to put it down, giving the impression of reluctance. Frank was impressed that she¡¯d give up the negotiation; she had enough money for it. Perhaps she¡¯d shift to a different pin. He was wrong. ¡°These are all so terrible. I guess I¡¯ll have to walk up to Knute¡¯s and buy a proper cloak pin ¡­¡± She weighed the black pin in her hand for a moment. ¡°Quarter crown? Just so I don¡¯t have to bother with the walk?¡± The vulture smiled. He thought he had her. ¡°Well, perhaps if you were to buy a cloak to go with it?¡± ¡°Hmm. Perhaps a shawl. Do you have anything in black?¡± It turned out that he did. Frank watched with astonishment as, for less than a third of the shop¡¯s offer to him for a single pin, she returned with a paper wrapped package with both a dress, a shawl, and the dubious cloak pin. Marie, ever sharp to his expressions, cocked her head at him. ¡°What?¡± Marie asked. ¡°Didn¡¯t think you¡¯d do so well.¡± Frank replied. ¡°Hmm. Do you think they are actual black garnets?¡± She asked. ¡°Not likely. That fellow is no jeweler.¡± Poe replied. ¡°I can check them later.¡± ¡°You know, he seemed to have no memory of me at all.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t say anything to him while in my presence. There was nothing concrete for him to remember.¡± ¡°But he saw me?¡± ¡°If I entirely understood how the curse worked, I¡¯d have gotten rid of it by now.¡± Frank had Marie return to the Agency to leave her new clothes behind. Frank moved back to the corner as Marie strolled back. While he waited, Frank¡¯s headache finally got the better of him. He filled his sky-kraken pipe with more of the soothing kinninnik, and lit it with one of his small enchanted fire-lighters. It was a clever little metal stick that, when withdrawn from it¡¯s brass and nickel case, would be red hot for a few moments. Holding the pipe in his right hand, first finger extended to support it, he touched the hot end to the kinninnick, then he drew the smoke into his mouth, and blew it out in stream. The smoke slowed the pounding in his head, eased the tension in his shoulders, and helped is arms relax. Taking another draw, he entertained himself by blowing a few white smoke rings, and watched them slowly swirl and dissipate. Marie returned, with her cloak pinned in place, the black pin glittering. Maybe they were gems after all. If she objected to the smoke, she didn¡¯t say anything. WIth the new cloak pin sorted, they walked to the heart of the Stag¡¯s territory, the Verdant Stag. The Verdant Stag gathered folk from all over the city, at all times of the day. To call it an inn would be a disservice to its sophistication: entertainments and music at night, a varied and liberal bar service, affordable public and private rooms for travelers, and reasonably priced food that attracted workers from both the lower-income and the nicer parts of the city. Most of all, the common room was clean and the kitchen honest: no mystery pie or watered wine. Frank Poe suspected that as the center of criminal organization, the Verdant Stag had a rare reputation: scrupulous honestly for its patrons. You knew what the bargain was, and they would enforce it. On the other hand, if you took out a loan that was beyond your means and someone stopped by to collect with a certain amount of prejudice, well ¡­ that was hardly the Verdant¡¯s Stag¡¯s fault, was it? If they served lunch in a private room where a local business would buy the trinkets and baubles that came into the possession of disreputable characters, who could say that the seller wasn¡¯t the true owner? If the Stag had to bribe an official, collect interest, procure special goods, or steal some information, wouldn¡¯t that just be getting their fair due for running a business under the oppressive and unreasonable Crowns? Frank knew the Verdant Stags. When Frank first opened the August Agency, a clean shaven, steely-eyed man, bearing the mark of the green antlers on his shirt, had stopped by. The man encouraged Frank to visit the Verdant Stag, seeing as how independent businesses such Frank¡¯s would be able to make important contacts with local interests. Frank declined. Later visits were less polite. Eventually, after a few pointed conversations with the antler-festooned youth that hung about his door and discouraged the Agency¡¯s potential customers, Frank made a deal. The Stags could either move along, or they could visit the healer regularly for the oozing foot sores that got worse every day that they stood within view of the August Agency. Frank¡¯s curse made these conversations more difficult than it should have been, but the sores lasted, so the cause eventually stuck in the teenager¡¯s minds. This then, was Frank¡¯s first visit to the Verdant Stag¡¯s heart. But, he knew who to ask for: Lord Stag. Frank and Marie stepped through the front doors of the sprawling inn, past the sign of the green stylized antlers, and sat at one of the communal tables. Poe didn¡¯t stop smoking; one of the interesting features of the Stag was that they paid for an air-clearing enchantment. It kept his smoke from settling around him. Thus, the air at the Verdant Stag was always sweet and clear. Marie sat beside Frank at the long table, and near some other patrons who were tucking into a noon dinner. A waiter stopped by and wrote down their food order. After an awkward moment where Marie was, again, accused of being the Raven Queen, Frank made his request¡ªcommunicated through Marie¡ªto speak to Lord Stag, if he was available. Frank sat and soaked in the rumor and gossip of the patrons. It was similar to the Morrows¡¯ gossip. Would the Stags retaliate? No one was sure. Why did the Raven Queen make an appearance? Some sort of bargain. But the stories were also very interesting for other reasons. The Raven Queen developed implausible powers: She was able to change shape into a raven and fly. If that was too slow, she could also step through the shadows and appear anywhere she desired. She had access to the mythological plane of darkness, and had summoned a familiar from there. The familiar itself could invade the mind and cause madness. Or perhaps she was a creature from the plane of darkness herself; trapped away from her home. She was made of shadows, and the light hurt her. The Raven Queen performed implausible feats: Her theft from the University vaults, traveling to and from her destination through shadows, was just the beginning. For example, Lord Stag joined her in a flight through the shadows to appear in the tower during the fight at the warehouse. When she teleported to the top of the tower, she cast powerful radiant magic and sent bolts of brittle light at their enemies. After defeating the villains who attacked the innocent workers, she treated and healed the wounded with blood magic. But her services weren¡¯t free: she had demanded their blood in recompense for saving them. Then, when corrupt and evil Coppers arrived, she summoned the shadows to help the workers escape, and set summoned shadow ravens and her bird-like demon on the Coppers. Of course, the heroic figure of Lord Stag intervened and kept her from taking the souls of all that she saved, and he kept her from killing all that attacked her, which also spared the corrupt Coppers. None of these stories were coherent. If she was a creature of darkness, why did she summon bolts of radiant energy? What was she doing with these souls? Maybe none of it mattered, or all of it. After listening for a long time, Marie finally seemed to have decided on a question for Frank. ¡°Who, or maybe what, is the Raven Queen, do you think?¡± ¡°She¡¯s definitely receiving a great deal of interest, isn¡¯t she? Rumors are rarely truth; people like a good story, and the facts tend to sap the life out of a really good story. But, a couple of aspects of the Raven Queen¡¯s story do seem plausible.¡±Frank thought for a moment and then leaned close to Marie to speak in whisper. ¡°There¡¯s some truths that are hidden in these rumors: One, she¡¯s likely either an employee or and independent contractor with Stags. Two, she has demonstrated flexibility and variety in her magic that is unpredictable to established sorcerers and investigators. Three, the Coppers can¡¯t find her, even after putting a pretty substantial reward. So, what obvious conclusions might we draw?¡± ¡°She¡¯s powerful and useful enough to work with the Stags, and she¡¯s creative enough to surprise smart people, and ¡­ I¡¯ve lived here my whole life, and while the city is big, someone must know her.¡± Marie answered. ¡°She has help?¡± ¡°Right. Where, for example, does she buy food? Food stalls are anonymous, but not that anonymous; there is a poster of Siobhan Naught next to all the public gathering places. Where does she sleep? Even the homeless know each other. I can¡¯t see a thaumaturge of any kind sleeping under bridges and wearing the tattered clothing of a beggar. Assuming, of course,¡± Frank said with a laugh, ¡°she is not an eldritch being of darkness who subsists on the light of the moon, sleeps in the dreams of evil men, and bargains with the dead for succor!¡± A waitress approached the table, and dropped off the two bowls of food. ¡°Are you talking about the Raven Queen?¡± She asked them. ¡°Of course,¡± Frank replied, ¡°what else is there to talk about?¡± He set his pipe aside and picked up a spoon for the food. ¡°I heard she cursed all the Morrows so that if they see green antlers they¡¯ll be paralyzed in fear.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Frank felt pulled away from his food, curious about what this waitress might have to say. She did work at the center of one of the possible protectors of the Raven Queen after all. ¡°And, Lord Stag had to promise to find more of her kind to get her help.¡± ¡°More of her kind?¡± ¡°Creatures of the Fey, obviously. She¡¯s also a special kind of darkness creature, obviously.¡± ¡°Obviously.¡± Frank replied. ¡°You know that she summoned a monster that threw a squad of Coppers in a canal?¡± ¡°Really?¡± Marie asked. ¡°Oh yes, I heard all about it from a customer that saw it happen. She raised her hand and her monster jumped out and bowled the whole lot of them off a bridge and into the water.¡± ¡°What did her monster look like?¡± ¡°It was all red-eyed and black, like ink. And it was blowy-like, you know, like the wind?¡± ¡°You can¡¯t see the wind.¡± Marie replied. Frank approved; that sort of clear thinking was one of the reasons he thought Marie would do well as a sorcerer. The waitress, however, was oblivious. ¡°You know, you look a little ¡­¡± ¡°No, I do not.¡± Marie replied. ¡°Anyway,¡± the waitress continued, ¡°you can see a cloud. It was like a black cloud-thing.¡± ¡°So, if you wanted to meet her, how would you go about it?¡± Frank finally asked. ¡°Meet her? No no, I wouldn¡¯t want to meet her ¡­¡± In the midst of the woman¡¯s reply, another customer called to her. ¡°Oh, I need to go. Enjoy your food!¡± She swirled across the room to a table that had been trying to get her attention for awhile. ¡°Poe. Can magic do those things?¡± ¡°Magic can do almost anything, with enough study, imagination, time, power, and will. For example, esoteric magic to travel through the earth does exist. But, I doubt we are getting a clear picture ¡­ Do you know, the blond apprentice that stopped by the Agency might have been fighting for the Morrows?¡± ¡°What?¡± Marie asked. ¡°Why do you think that?¡± ¡°She was injured. No student at the University would stay injured for long, unless they were trying to hide their injury from the school¡¯s healers, or someone else.¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Yes. Had you seen her in Morrow territory before?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯d never seen her before.¡± Frank considered. If Marie didn¡¯t know her ¡­ ¡°Would you recognize all the sorcerers working for the Morrows?¡± ¡°Well, maybe not all of them. But, a lot of important Morrows stop by Hands, Hearts, and Palms; it¡¯s a perk. Most of the higher ups visit for actual massage or a face cleansing or something; not everyone wants the sex stuff. The parlor doesn¡¯t give out discounts to the street toughs or anything, but a sorcerer would be important enough to be invited to stop by. They¡¯d want us to know who was important and who could get discounts.¡± Frank nodded. That confirmed some of his suspicions. He looked at the complex bean and lamb stew he¡¯d ordered, and tried not to think too much about how meals like this reminded him of family. Frank would have preferred some plain rice with some steamed chrysanthemum. He tucked into it, mechanically eating while keeping his mind elsewhere. While he and Marie ate, Frank realized that some pieces were coming together; the more he thought about it, the more certain he felt that the the blond apprentice had been in the fight at the warehouse, and probably cut by the Raven Queen¡¯s glass-throwing spell. If so, there was only one reasonable conclusion: Lord Morrow had help from the University. In contrast, Frank considered Lord Stag¡¯s base of operations, the Verdant Stag: clean staff uniforms, enforcers at the door, expensive smoke clearing wards inside the building, foreign guests, reasonable food, entertainment every night. And, there were other signs that Lord Stag was behaving like a real Lord, with the emergency pulls on the street corners and running businesses to benefit his territories. This included the junk shop, and whatever business he hoped to start in that warehouse. Of course, crime may pay, but did it pay so well when the Verdant Stag started, not all that long ago? It occurred to Frank that this fine establishment was supported by a Crown family, a wealthy patron, or ¡­ a foreign government. No Crown family would have started a criminal enterprise in the Mires, and there were few wealthy patrons that would be outside the control of the Crowns. Frank reckoned Osham would appreciate the information Gilbratha¡¯s crime world could generate for them. ¡®Best I keep those sorts of deductions to myself.¡¯ Frank thought. A scarred and dark complexioned man approached the table. ¡°Sir, if you would follow me, the manager is willing to meet with you.¡± Frank picked up his pipe and gestured for Marie to join him. Chapter 10: Blowing smoke rings. Month 12, Day 3, 1:30 PM Marie As they followed the Stag¡¯s enforcer upstairs, Marie wondered how the man would fair against Dinky. Dinky was big, of course, but this man was liquid smooth. He was very likely carrying a battle-wand, and he didn¡¯t waste any motion. He was particularly careful to keep behind Poe and Marie. Instead of leading them, he guided them from behind. Marie had a bad feeling about this meeting, but Poe seemed oblivious. Or, at least he acted completely unconcerned, his loping stride unhindered and confident. Marie¡¯s short strides seemed to required her walk double time to keep up. When they entered an office with a huge desk, Marie expected a man with antlers and a mask.Instead, a woman with red hair occupied the chair behind the desk. She stood and gestured to the two chairs for them to sit. Poe sat. Marie sat. The red-haired woman sat. The Verdant Stag enforcer stood inside the office, just by the door. The woman packed a pipe with something, and placed it on a little glass coaster, where she lit it. She took the pipe in her teeth, and took a few puffs. ¡°Smoke?¡± She offered an open box of some dried leaves, which looked like a dark blue crumble. Marie wasn¡¯t sure what to make of Poe¡¯s seemingly new smoking habit; it could be something dangerous, or benign. Since she¡¯d only seen Poe smoking since the Copper station, she assumed his pipe had some sort of medicinal properties. They certainly smelled that way. ¡°Thank you. Etherwood leaves?¡± Poe asked. The woman nodded. Marie knew it from the parlor, some clients liked etherwood leaves to smoke. The parlor would sell a packet to a customer from time to time; there was a supply available that could be delivered to the private rooms. As far as she knew, the leaves just smelled nice to smoke, but her Mama didn¡¯t approve. There were worse things. ¡°It¡¯s very kind of you to refresh my pipe.¡± Poe popped the ash from his pipe into a tray, packed his long pipe with the leaves, and lit it with a strange metal stick he¡¯d withdrawn from a coat pocket. ¡°Will Lord Stag be joining us?¡± Poe asked. ¡°No, Mr. Poe. We¡¯ll keep this civil, but this is going to be a short meeting.¡± ¡°Ah. You have the advantage of me, can I ask who you are?¡± ¡°No.¡± The woman replied. She paused to take a light puff from her pipe and blow a creamy blue smoke ring. ¡°Mr. Poe, let¡¯s be honest. Unless you are here to join our organization, I do not expect we can do any business today.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± ¡°Sitting next to you is an associate of the Morrows, who lives and works in one of their brothels. Moreover, only a few days ago, you were seen entering the local copper station either as a contractor, or an informant. I don¡¯t know why you brought a Morrow into the heart of our territory, but I can only assume it is to spy.¡± ¡®Spy!¡¯ Marie thought. ¡®There¡¯s no way I would spy! And, what¡¯s wrong with my home? It¡¯s not a brothel, or at least, not only a brothel.¡¯ Marie frowned in disagreement. ¡®And, I¡¯m not an associate of the Morrows. Not really. Only sometimes. Kinda.¡¯ Marie leaned forward and took in a breath to defend herself, but Poe gently placed his free hand on her arm. Marie looked over at him. He slightly shook his head negatively toward her. She huffed out the breath, and sat up straight and practically vibrating with indignation. Poe leaned back in his chair, giving the impression that he was entirely relaxed. Thus seemingly unbothered, Poe continued. ¡°Since you seem to know we are, you must also know that I am a legitimate investigator. I am here for unremarkable information. This is more of an errand than a real investigation. I have several clients interested nothing more than this: how may they contact Siobhan Naught? If your organization can arrange it, then that is all I need know. I¡¯ll even put my clients in contact with you directly, and we need never speak again. You can judge those clients for yourself.¡± ¡°Mr. Poe. I have received reports on your August Agency. People report to me that you tend to poke your nose into places it does not belong, that is, when people can even recall meeting with you. This makes it even less likely that I¡¯m going to talk with you.¡± The red-haired woman replied. She took the opportunity to blow another pure blue smoke ring. As sharp as this response was, their verbal sparring didn¡¯t seem to make them tense at all. ¡®Is it something in the smoke?¡¯ Marie wondered. Poe drew smoke from his own pipe, and blew a larger and more perfect smoke ring than that woman¡¯s. ¡°To facilitate a meeting, perhaps some tribute could be arranged for the Raven Queen? I¡¯m sure my clients would be willing to pay for the opportunity to communicate to her. Isn¡¯t it, after all, the sort of thing a raven might like?¡± ¡°You should be more concerned with tribute to the Verdant Stag.¡± The woman replied. She attempted another smoke ring; it was perhaps larger than Poe¡¯s, but not as circular. ¡°Alright.¡± Poe replied. ¡°What do you want? I¡¯m warning you, I am not for hire as a thaumaturge.¡± Poe sucked on his pipe and blew another perfect smoke ring; this one was easily larger than a handspan. It took a surprisingly long time to fade. Marie wondered how much practice that must have required. ¡°No?¡± Despite her seemingly hostile stance, the woman seemed mildly disappointed. ¡°Then ¡­ what about confidential information from the Coppers?¡± ¡°As you pointed out, I do have some contact with the Coppers. But, I¡¯m sure you have your own informants. I¡¯m not asking for this information on the Coppers¡¯ behalf, and it would hurt my reputation if I did not keep my clients¡¯ confidences. Anything I didn¡¯t learn on my own I¡¯d have to keep to myself.¡± ¡°Then this meeting is over.¡± The woman replied, her lips a flat line. ¡°Let¡¯s not be too hasty. A one-time information exchange may be possible. You tell me what you want to know, and I¡¯ll decide if its enough to exchange for information on how to contact the Raven Queen. I may know the answer without information from the Coppers anyway.¡± The woman gave Poe a shrewd look. ¡°What is Ennis Naught telling the Coppers in Harrow Hill?¡± Poe pulled the pipe away from his mouth, then smiled bitterly. ¡°That is a good question. Sadly, I can neither admit nor deny that I possess that information.¡± He paused, sighing, ¡°nor can promise that I can obtain it for you. Is there some less difficult to obtain information you want?¡± ¡°We have no further business. Good day to you, Mr. Poe.¡± ¡°Well, I am disappointed.¡± Frank knocked the ash from his pipe into the tray, then tucked it into his pocket. ¡°Perhaps, if I am able to share the information in the future, we can meet again. I expect to do some work for the Coppers, but I assure you, I am not your enemy.¡± ¡°Nor are you our friend, Mr. Poe. Good day.¡± The woman dismissed them with a bright white smile. Marie thought she looked a bit hungry. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°Thank you for the smoke. Good day.¡± As they left the office, Marie began wondering what the members of the Verdant Stag knew about her. It seemed like it would be a weird thing for this woman to recognize her specifically. Something was going on, but Marie wasn¡¯t sure what. As the enforcer showed them down the stairs of the Verdant Stag, Poe turned to the enforcer for a question. ¡°Listen, I¡¯m looking for some headache reducer; maybe a pain relieving salve? Would you know a good place to buy nearby?¡± ¡°Sure, we sell some here.¡± ¡°Good, mind if I take a look?¡± The bodyguard took a little while to answer. Marie suspected he was considering whether he needed to ask permission. ¡°Fine. But don¡¯t hang around.¡± He replied. The bodyguard directed them back to the third floor, and took the first door to the left into a tidy room. Inside, colorful glass vials, bottles, and jars were neatly arranged on sturdy shelves. Everything was marked with prices and labels stating their contents. Marie noticed that many of them glowed: purple, red, orange and blue. She¡¯d seen similar bottles at the parlor, although a much more narrow variety. The shop impressed Marie; especially the prices. They were so low, she expected there was some sort of scam. Colored water with some optical trick, instead of the real potions. She¡¯d seen the accounts at the parlor for buying the standard sorts of salves and potions, plus a variety of aphrodisiacs. None were as cheap as these. Marie freely wandered around, looking at the labels. She recognized ¡°fever reducer,¡± ¡°Abrim¡¯s lung clearer,¡± and ¡°vitamin booster.¡± Some she recognized as dangerous. ¡°Beamshell tincture¡± was one.A masseuse had used it to keep themselves awake during the long night shifts, but had gotten addicted. The Morrows didn¡¯t care so much, but Madam had been furious with the girl. Some labels were mysteries, like ¡°Landrum¡¯s nourishing draught¡± which she¡¯d never heard of before. Poe pointed at a jar of salve. ¡°Is this price right?¡± He asked the woman managing the little shop. She looked him over. ¡°For you, the price is double.¡± ¡°What? why?¡± ¡°This is a service for those that can¡¯t afford it. You, on the other hand, can.¡± The woman glared at the bodyguard. Marie guessed he was not supposed to bring rich folks around to the shop. ¡°I am not so rich as that.¡± Poe protested. Poe tried to look affronted, but Marie could tell his heart wasn''t in it. ¡°Tell me that you can¡¯t afford to pay.¡± ¡°I can pay.¡± He sighed. ¡°Where do you get them so cheap, anyway? Your marked prices are practically the cost of the potion.¡± ¡°You are correct; excepting you, we source them at cost and sell them with only a small mark-up. People around here can¡¯t afford a healer. Lord Stag doesn¡¯t like seeing people suffer.¡± Marie got a lump in her throat. She certainly knew that healers were expensive. She found herself unconsciously touching the tattoo on her chest that rested directly over her heart. She blinked. The Verdant Stag were criminals. So why were they so much kinder than the Morrows? Marie fisted her dress with her right hand. She would not show these people her anger. She wouldn¡¯t. ¡®Life isn¡¯t fair, that¡¯s how things are, and there¡¯s nothing you can do about it.¡¯ Marie thought. ¡®You do the best you can, and take whatever chance you can get.¡¯ Poe looked over at her. ¡°Something wrong Marie?¡± Marie gestured to have Poe lean down, so she could talk in his ear. ¡°Poe, this can¡¯t be right. This has to be a scam.¡± Marie couldn''t believe they would be so altruistic. Why? When everyone knew the gangs were horrible: never fair, and always looking for advantage. Poe nodded seriously to her. ¡°Ok, we¡¯ll check it.¡± Poe straightened and addressed the woman managing the little potion shop. ¡°I¡¯ll take this pain reliever, and some of that ointment for scrapes, and you have some moonlight sizzle, so I¡¯ll take one of those too. Give me a discount for buying a bit extra?¡± ¡°I can mark it up more if you like.¡± Poe chuckled. He picked up the bottles and placed them in inner pockets of his coat. ¡®How many pockets does he have?¡¯ Marie wondered. Before he put the moonlight sizzle away in a pocket, he shook it firmly, and it glowed nearly as clear and bright as a lamp. He nodded to himself and handed over the money. Poe allowed the enforcer to direct them out of the Verdant Stag and onto the street. On the way back to the office, Poe walked leisurely. Whether this was because he was absorbing the information from the meeting, or just tired from straining himself, Marie did not know. ¡°The moonlight sizzle worked, but these salves have to be fake, right?¡± Marie asked. ¡°No. I do not think they are. I will teach you the basis of potion-making, and we¡¯ll make one soon, when I feel up to demonstrating.¡± ¡°But, why would they do it? Why sell these potions for so little?¡± ¡°Speculation does not suit a detective or a sorcerer. We should reason from our observations. The moonlight sizzle activated, and works exactly as it should. I don¡¯t know this ¡®SS¡¯ mark, but it¡¯s seems fine. And, the fever reducer has the same mark. Thus, we have evidence that Lord Stag cares. What others say is sometimes unreliable, but the woman did say that he cares about people. Honest concern is a possible reason for the cheap potions. There might be other reasons: there are benefits from giving people a discount on necessities, like affordable healing, or housing, or small loans. They¡¯ll be loyal.¡± Poe seemed to think for a bit, before he continued. ¡°Not everything is a transaction. If you want to change the world, like ending suffering, you have to start doing it by any means you have.¡± Marie turned over that thought for a moment and then realized what Poe was saying. That couldn''t be right. ¡°Wait. Suffering? You can¡¯t change things like that. That¡¯s just part of the way things are.¡± Poe stepped in front of Marie, and blocked their progress down the street. He took off his glasses and tucked them into a pocket. He squat down so that he ended up looking up at her slightly. He was still much taller than her. His mismatched eyes were serious, but not angry, when he looked at her. He smelled like the etherleaf smoke; to Marie it smelled like smoked woodruff and mint. ¡°Marie.¡± He started quietly. ¡°This is important. Know it. It is a Sorcerer¡¯s Will to change the world. We pour out a salt circle and change the mundane into magic. Sorcerers embody change in the world. Nothing need remain the same when a sorcerer works their Will. Do you understand that?¡± ¡°Yes Poe.¡± Marie nodded. Poe continued. ¡°Everything is capable of change. Even those things that seem beyond your personal control. The way this city is organized is the offspring of choices: you choices, my choices, Lord Stag¡¯s choices, Lord Morrow¡¯s choices, and the Crowns¡¯ choices. These choices fit together. Everything is connected.¡± Poe paused, and then glanced around to see if any passerby might overhear. ¡°The Crowns would never admit it, but even the Raven Queen¡¯s choices are changing the city. It¡¯s a matter of making choices to make others¡¯ lives better, or choices that make others¡¯ lives worse. Influence and change people¡¯s choices, and the world will change.¡± ¡°Are you saying sorcerers can turn poor into rich people, or make it so that there is no pain?¡± ¡°No. I am saying that who suffers, and why, and how much, is influenced by the resources they have, where they get their resources, and how the organizations¡ªespecially governments¡ªorganize to move those resources through civilization.¡± Poe¡¯s voice became more measured, and he spoke with careful articulation. ¡°The Blood Emperor sacrificed his people, and blood streamed from the gates of his palace. But, the ancestors of the Crown made a new government after he was assassinated. They did not accept that the Blood Emperor¡¯s way was inevitable. They changed it. They outlawed blood magic, and we still live with the choices they made hundreds of years ago. But just like sorcery, that kind of change comes only from having the will to change, the components to make a difference, and the expectation that some sacrifice¡ªof energy, influence, secrets, or wealth¡ªare necessary to make it happen.¡± ¡°It can¡¯t be that easy!¡± ¡°Who said anything about easy?¡± Poe returned his glasses to his face and stood. ¡°Changing things is always difficult and dangerous. Sorcerers are always changing the world around them. From now on, you are a sorcerer, no matter how new and inexperienced. If you work hard, one day you may make the world around you into what you want it to be.¡± Poe turned and started walking. Marie ran to catch up. ¡®Is the August Agency what he wants to be?¡¯ Marie thought. ¡°So,¡± Poe said conversationally. ¡°Let¡¯s have another lesson tonight, and then tomorrow we can report to the apprentice girl that the Stags can contact the Raven Queen.¡± ¡°Wait, when did the Stags¡¯ woman say that?¡± ¡°The Coppers interrogated Ennis Naught because they want him to lead them to his daughter, and whatever she stole. But Lord Stag does not need this. So, why do the Stags want to know what he is saying?¡± ¡°So that they can tell Raven Queen?¡± ¡°Exactly. If they know what Ennis has told the coppers, then they can pass this information to the Raven Queen so that she may avoid capture if he revealed something dangerous to her plans. If you want to succeed, knowledge is the first step. The Stags must know how to contact her, otherwise, why would they care?¡± ¡°What about Lacer?¡± ¡°Grandmaster Lacer.¡± Poe corrected her absently. ¡°I don¡¯t have enough yet for him. He did want me to find out how to contact Naught, but he also might pay a bonus if I can arrange the meeting.¡± ¡®A bonus!¡¯ Marie thought. ¡®Poe might buy some better food.¡¯ Chapter 11: There is a Meeting Month 12, Day 4, 6:00AM Marie Marie set out for Hands, Hearts, and Palms in near dark. It was another misty morning, and she couldn¡¯t help but shiver a little bit, even with her ruana cloak held in place with her new cloak pin. Poe¡¯s story of a human-eating mist disturbed her. She kept imagining that the mist around her had malicious intent. But, thankfully, the mist didn¡¯t behave unnaturally. It was mostly just cold and wet. She wore her new-to-her black dress, which was nearly ankle length. It didn¡¯t show off her boots as well, she thought, but it did have several pockets in the seams. Probably the dress was meant for mourning or a funeral. The cloth and stitching was finer than usual stuff even at a used shop, and she¡¯d gotten a deal on it in part because of its small size. People underestimated Marie¡¯s age; that was fine. But she definitely wished she was taller. She didn''t know many other girls her age, but she thought she should be at least 3/4 the height of a doorway, and she still was only 2/3 of it. She also thought she should be getting ¡°womanly¡± as her Mama called it, and that wasn''t really happening either. It was something to think about, when walking to the parlor. No particular reason to be anxious, growing up would happen eventually. Maybe in another year. She was looking forward to talking to Mama and seeing everyone. Even if they would be tired. Living in a 24-hour business and sleeping in a single room with a dozen other women and her Mama was a lot different than sleeping alone. Marie¡¯s new room possessed a stifling quiet that she still found unsettling; like the mist, it was an ordinary thing but was seeming unnatural without time to get used to it. ¡®Do all rich girls sleep in a room by themselves?¡¯ Marie thought. ¡®What must it be like to grow up that way?¡¯ Marie was used to people, and now she oddly craved the company. Not that she expected to see much company. Early morning wasn''t a busy time for Hands, Hearts, and Palms. The rooms were empty, so that was always a busy time for the cleaners. Mama worked hardest for the couple of hours after the rush left: cleaning floors, servicing the padded tables, changing cloth, organizing the cleaning for the daytime, and getting the laundry sorted and stored. It might not be the luxury of the Silk Door. And it wasn¡¯t closer to the nicer parts of the City, but not all the Morrows were running cheap whorehouses. What little luxury Hands, Hearts, and Palms had, the parlor never closed. In part, this was because they had a few rooms for overnight stay for patrons to sleep off the effects of any intoxicants; these beds did come with, of course, by-the-hour charges. During daytime, wealthier customers also visited for standard massage, hot rock treatments, cosmetic tinctures, facial treatments, and the occasional not-entirely-legal glamour. The parlor also did some business with ladies who wanted a discrete place to meet a paramour while thier husband worked through the day. One wouldn¡¯t want to accidentally meet a husband during a visit to the Silk Door for their own tryst. So, there were customers for all hours of the day, and its door never closed. Or at least Marie thought the parlor never closed. She appeared mistaken, however, because when she arrived, the parlor was definitely closed. The front door wouldn¡¯t budge when she tried to open it, and knocking did not seem to attract anyone inside. She anxiously headed for the back door. It smelled a little of iron and sour vomit in the alley, but it was dim and she couldn''t make out any detail. The backdoor was locked too. When she knocked, Dinky opened the door. ¡°Miss Marie.¡± He rumbled. ¡°There¡¯s a meet¡¯n.¡± ¡°What is wrong? Why is the parlor closed?¡± ¡°Your Mama will tell you.¡± Marie was uneasy. She hoped none of the workers were hurt. She pushed that feeling aside, and followed Dinky to the largest room in the parlor: the laundry. The big washtubs were emptied and stacked away; the portable artifact clothes drying arrays were moved to lean on walls; and the tables were folded up and put away, The employees packed the room, all of them standing facing away from the door.Everyone was sombre and quiet and listening to Madame. Madame stood next to the wall farthest from the door, speaking in her most serious voice, just a bit louder than normal. ¡°¡­ was badly injured. We¡¯re not sure if she¡¯ll be back to casting glamours, but she¡¯s probably done with sex work. I¡¯m sure everyone here is sympathetic, but Morrow policy is absolute. If you work off the books in their territory, you take your chances. Everyone clear on that?¡± ¡®Who was badly injured?¡¯ Marie wondered. ¡®Was anyone else hurt?¡¯ Marie wormed her way through the crowd so that she could see, and eventually made it to the front. To Marie¡¯s relief, Mama was standing in the corner, apparently unharmed. Madame continued. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. ¡°I don¡¯t want to see any of the rest of you in this position. Don¡¯t go home with clients, don¡¯t work off the books, and don¡¯t wander out alone at night. That¡¯s both girls and boys, got it? There¡¯s some sick f ¡­ people out there.¡± Nods all around. Even the Morrows themselves could be dangerous. Madame noticeably left off the profanity when she looked in Marie¡¯s direction. ¡°Ok? Everyone get some sleep. We¡¯re closed for the day; I¡¯ll pay the Morrows their tribute out of my own funds today. I want everyone to get some rest and we¡¯ll open tonight.¡± Madame dismissed everyone with a nod. The gathering broke up with everyone chattering about what they¡¯d heard, but Mama and Madame stayed. Because Marie was here to see Mama, she hung around as well. Madame smiled and gestured Marie over to them. ¡°Marie, so good to see you.¡± Madame started. Marie figured that Madame wanted something, but she had a more pressing question. ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°It¡¯s Millie.¡± Mama said. ¡°She ¡­ had trouble with a client. Jealousy or just cruel, we don¡¯t know. He broke her legs with a cudgel, and smashed the rest of her up something terrible. She almost died ¡­ Can you believe it, she crawled all the way here from her place down the street? But the client was off the books.¡± Mama hesitated. ¡°You know how it is, she always thought she could keep independent. Arrogant. I didn¡¯t care, of course.¡± Madame shrugged. ¡°But, the Morrows healer wouldn¡¯t look after her, so she had to make do.¡± ¡°Mille does all the glamours though.¡± Marie protested. ¡°Couldn¡¯t they have made an exception?¡± ¡°She didn¡¯t get beat within and inch of her life for doing glamours; she was ¡­ servicing men on the side. There¡¯s policy.¡± Madame looked grim. Mama, however, was pale and shaking a bit. How ever bad it was, not much could rattle Mama, so it must have been very bad. Marie already knew that Millie had been dealt a bad hand of fate, what with the hairlip, a lisp, and coming from a poor family.Such cosmetic problems could be fixed as a child, but they were much more difficult as an adult. Millie hadn¡¯t hidden her occupation, even from Marie. But Millie was fascinating, and Marie had had followed her around when she did glamours on the others. Millie wasn¡¯t really a friend, but they were friendly. ¡°She had to make do with some healing potions and pain reliever. The lender wouldn¡¯t have nothing to do with her to pay for better healing, now that she can¡¯t ...¡± Madam sighed. ¡°I¡¯m probably going to be looking for someone else to apply glamours. Your investigator, what¡¯s his name?¡± ¡°Frank Poe.¡± Marie was pretty sure she knew what was coming next. ¡°Your Mama told me that you¡¯re learning some magic off him. Do you think he¡¯d teach you how to do some glamour work for us? Or, did Mille teach you enough? It¡¯s not so much about the clients; that was just a side job. What we really need is for some of our people to get a little boost to their natural charms. I¡¯d hate to put them out if they don¡¯t quite have the look that the clients expect.¡± ¡®That explains the smiling.¡¯ Marie thought. Madame knew how to persuade her: suggest that people she knew, some for her whole life, would end up on the street. But Marie was not eager to experiment with magic after learning about aberrants, and she definitely wouldn''t be doing magic without Poe present. She could also suspected Madame¡¯ next question. There was no way Poe would be persuaded to do glamours for Hands, Hearts, and Palms. He had turned down sorcery work at nearly every suggestion. Now that she¡¯d seen him get hurt helping the Coppers, she could guess he wouldn¡¯t be in any shape to help anyway. ¡°No. He doesn''t do glamours.¡± Marie lied a little bit. She knew very well that, as a journeyman sorcerer, he could probably do glamours of all kinds. But, since he wouldn¡¯t, there was no reason to be totally truthful. Madame would just keep asking for something he¡¯d never do. ¡°Hmm.¡± Madame replied. ¡°Perhaps after you¡¯ve thought about it. I know this must have been a shock, because Millie is a friend.¡± Madame patted Mama¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Stella, you might talk to your girl about how important this is for the business.¡± Marie and Mama were alone in the empty laundry room. There was an awkward pause after Madame shut the door. Marie breathed in the scent of washing soap and tried to relax the tension in her gut. ¡°Are you ok?¡± Mama asked. ¡°Yes, of course I am.¡± ¡°Mr. Poe treats you well?¡± ¡°Yes, Mama. I learned my first spell yesterday.¡± ¡°What happened to Millie ¡­ I don''t want that to happen to you. You don¡¯t have to stay with Mr. Poe.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine Mama. He¡¯s ok.¡± ¡°You sure? He doesn¡¯t try to control you? He¡¯s not ¡­ doing anything that makes you uncomfortable?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine Mama. Really.¡± Marie desperately wanted to change this subject. ¡°What about you though? Did you have to carry Millie?¡± Mama, who Marie thought was as tough as boot leather, and who had seen some of the worst that working in a brothel could show, had trouble keeping her composure when she explained what happened.Her eyes filled with tears, and her voice quivered. She did not share too much detail, but it was still a horrible story. Mama was the first to see Millie. Just as the evening rush started, Mama had gone to the back door, because there was some sort of hoarse crying out back. It sounded like an animal, maybe an injured cat, or an eidolon raccoon begging for scraps. Mama found Millie bloody, barely alive, struggling to breathe, just outside the parlor¡¯s back door. Who could tell how far she¡¯d crawled or stumbled to reach apparent safety. She¡¯d been beaten. Madame brought her in and called for a healer. But when the Morrows¡¯ healer learned a client had beaten Millie, he refused to help. He was too afraid that it would get back to the boss; Lord Morrow was not gentle with those in the organization that betrayed his business policies. Prostitutes in Morrow territory had to pay him a cut, otherwise they would see no protection from him. The healer sold them a healing potion, gave them the name of a witch deep in the Mires outside of Morrow territory, and fled. Madame, probably also against policy, but more certain in her position, gave the cleaning staff some gold to see Millie to the witch¡¯s place. Mama led them there; they carried Millie on improvised a stretcher. The man they met was barely trained, and he was reluctant to do anything at all. A side business in minor healing and curses was hardly enough to get Millie back on her feet. But, after Mama explained what happened, he took their money and cast some healing rituals with his familiar. The shug monkey, which Marie was told looked like a dog but had an eerie monkey-like face, and a big mane of hair, only possessed a minor healing aspect. It took a several hours before Millie recovered enough to limp, with help, back to her apartment. Even so, Millie was exhausted, weak, in constant pain, and broken. According to Mama, she¡¯d never walk right again. Mama was also tired; she had been out all night and what she¡¯s seen frightened her.Marie suspected it was because this could have been her. To Marie, Millie had seemed untouchable because of her magic, and how useful she¡¯d been. But, she wasn¡¯t. Marie had connections with the Morrow, and friends at the parlor. ¡®Will it be enough to protect me?¡¯ Marie thought. ¡®Millie had friends. She worked with us. The Morrows didn¡¯t care.¡¯ She felt sick. Mama and Madam their finished their story. When Marie had arrived, the group of cleaners had just returned. Madame called the meeting to quell rumors among the staff. Mama expected that the day shift would have to do the extra cleaning on restocking to make up for the short staffing that helping Millie caused. Madame left Marie to talk to her Mama. Marie asked her Mama if she could go see Mille. But, Mama suggest that Marie give her some space to rest, and visit tomorrow. After hugs, and about an hour of quiet conversation about her day, Marie reluctantly began the walk back to the August Agency. As the sun rose, it burned off the mist. Marie walked and thought about her older friend. When Marie crossed into the Stag¡¯s territory, the shadow of raven wings flashed on the street. But, when she looked for the bird, she couldn¡¯t see it through her painful tears. Chapter 12: Indecision Does Not Suit a Sorcerer Month 12, Day 4, 7:30AM Frank Poe When Frank awoke, it seemed the horses stomping on his head had finally taken a break and cantered off. The headache and nausea had faded to a mild feeling of eyestrain. In a few days, he¡¯d probably be able to cast spells. For the first time in a lomg time, he was looking forward to it. Finally, for Marie, he could demonstrate a simple spark shooting spell, prepare some simple alchemy, and introduce her to something esoteric, so that she¡¯d have a few, relatively safe spells to practice. Maybe he could find something to engage her imagination. He¡¯d always enjoyed illusion. He ate a scoop of plain white rice, adding only a few fresh beans and a dash of fish sauce while cooking it, for his breakfast. The food¡¯s mostly mild, earthy flavors and light textures felt comfortable. At last night¡¯s supper of boiled eggs and steamed greens, Marie had already been giving hints that she was hoping for different food. Regularly adding some flash cooked sunfish to their usual diet wouldn¡¯t be a bad idea; Frank reckoned that she was still growing, after all. Now there was a thought he wasn¡¯t entirely ready to deal with. He really didn¡¯t quite know what he would do about a girl growing into a woman, and he wasn¡¯t sure who he could ask. ¡®Surely Stella is close enough to help Marie with that sort of thing?¡¯ Frank pressed a this slightly unsettling thought aside. But then, maybe that would be a good place to start with potions: cramp relief potions were a staple for all beginner alchemists, male and female. Women were better at them, of course. Marie didn¡¯t join him for breakfast, so Frank made up a bowl for her when she returned from visiting her mother. He covered it with a towel and carried it downstairs to their office. Marie had not returned, so he unlocked the outer and inner doors. Calder was waiting for him. ¡°Frank. Good morning! Opening up late today? Where¡¯s your assistant?¡± ¡°Come in, and we¡¯ll talk in my office.¡± Frank placed the food on Marie¡¯s table and led Calder to his desk. Frank sat, but Calder did not. ¡°So, Frank, I spoke with the lead detective.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°You¡¯re approved to see the summary reports. You have to pass on anything you think of, in writing, after your review. You¡¯ll have to sign a blood print vow to keep the material confidential. But, otherwise, he agreed that you can get the full reward, whatever it is, if you are directly involved in the capture.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a deal. Do you have the summaries for me at the station?¡± ¡°Yes. And the vow paperwork. My captain will handle it.¡± Frank thought about it. He hadn¡¯t entered a vow for a while; he wasn¡¯t sure with the curse¡¯s tendency to obscure memories whether the vow would hold. But, he didn¡¯t expect to worry about it. He¡¯d probably keep the vow. ¡°Alright; when do you want me to check this boy out?¡± Frank asked. ¡°Today, if you have the time. I¡¯ve already got another specialist in this morning at 10; so, will you be available?¡± ¡°Yes. I¡¯ll write you a note to deal with the curse. Carry it with you and start reading just as you leave; you may need to read it a couple of times. My notes never work as well as Marie¡¯s.¡± Calder waited patiently while Frank wrote out the content of the conversation, and took the note in hand before he left. Frank walked him to the door. Marie had not yet arrived; this was unusual, but Frank decided that he could trust her. She was canny enough to deal with any problem that might arise. If he was feeling better, he might have scried for her; just to see if she was safe. He then decided that he would not. It was a trap many diviners could fall into; trying to know everything at all times. Becoming obsessive. Frank knew all the stories. Diviners that would try to find their enemies through scrying; like enchanting mirrors to determine if your enemies were near. It was just as likely that you¡¯d make enemies with that sort of paranoid nonsense. If you wanted to destroy your enemies, make them your friends. Not that some wouldn¡¯t set themselves against you no matter what you did ¡­ Many sorcerers would settle their paranoia with dozens of wards. In many cases, sorcerers preferred to surround themselves in a complex web of wards and magic effects, even aside from security: remove dust, eliminate noise, fix the temperature, remove odors, and eradicate discomfort. Not Frank. He couldn¡¯t be comfortable with magic constantly changing the environment all the time. So, when he decided to sooth his anxiety by cleaning his pipe, he did not use magic. Instead of drawing an array on his desk and building an elaborate cleaning array, he retrieved the pipe from his coat pocket along with a waste-water cup, paper swabs, sweet nut protecting oils, and a bottle of water. Sitting at his desk, he took the pipe apart carefully, and began the process of removing the soot that accumulated in its long stem. Frank poured a little water down the length of the pipe, and he used a twist of tough tartarus-berry paper to scrub the tube. He double checked the tiny inscriptions on the pipe and the enchantments that gave it extra strength and would allow for matchless lighting. He oiled the parts with fresh papers, and took a few moments to appreciate the fine sky kraken decoration. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The pipe was part weapon, so when reassembled, he checked that everything was threaded snug and tight in its fittings. There¡¯s nothing more embarrassing than to have a weapon come apart mid-swing. His kiseru would block a mundane knife or club without issue, and it was surprising how few sorcerers were ready for a poke in the eye or a rap across their knuckles. As he was putting the cleaning supplies away, there was another visitor to the agency. The apprentice girl from the University seemed to have decided to see if he was making any progress. She came into his office and looked around a little apprehensively. ¡°So. I have the receipt that says I hired you, but I¡¯m having trouble remembering the details. Are you making progress on finding the Raven Queen?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± It really didn''t matter whether he was actually making progress or not; the only answer to this question was always ¡®yes¡¯ when a curious client asked. On the other hand, this client was problematic. ¡°But, you may not like what I¡¯ve found out. Your best choice, right now, is probably the Stags.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t go to the Stags!¡± She replied, then blew out a frustrated sigh. ¡°Sorry. That¡¯s not an option.¡± ¡°You never know, things might change.But, simply put, if you want to contact the Raven Queen, they are likely to know how.¡± ¡°What do you mean, ¡®likely¡¯?¡± ¡°They won¡¯t confirm it to me directly. If you are associated with the Morrows, you may find it difficult to get an audience.¡± ¡°How did you know I have an association with the Morrows?¡± ¡°If I didn¡¯t before; I know now. Also, this isn¡¯t a great place for you to meet me, is it? Having to come all the way down here from the University?¡± ¡°I ¡­¡± The girl scowled. If she agreed, Frank would have confirmed another point, and she wouldn¡¯t want that either. He saved her some self-recrimination. ¡°Student tokens are meant to be tracked. You can¡¯t hide your affiliation very well if you just carry it around.¡± Poe said blandly. ¡°You aren¡¯t very good at this yet, are you? Well, that¡¯s natural. But I wonder if your handler is very trustworthy. You can tell them I may havea better way to contact her in a week.¡± The girl swallowed a retort. ¡°Fine. Anything else?¡± ¡°Pay me double last time. This investigation is turning dangerous. I¡¯m in Stags territory, consorting with an ally of the Morrows, trying to find the Raven Queen. Consider it danger pay for this work.¡± Frank hoped this would be the end of it. Maybe raising his prices would send her to a different detective. The girl flushed with anger, but shockingly, she shelled out the gold. ¡°You better find me something. This is a lot of money.¡± ¡°Next time, let¡¯s meet closer to the University. Do you want to give me a name for a message, or shall we set up a meeting time?¡± ¡°Message. You seem to know most everything compromising anyway, and I can¡¯t keep doing this.¡± ¡°The danger of hiring a detective is that they¡¯ll find out more than you want them to. Don''t worry, I¡¯ll be discrete.¡± The girl wrote a name for him to send messages to ¡°Canelo¡± and he wrote her a receipt, reminding her in writing that the Stags would be the most likely lead. As Canelo left, Marie finally returned. Frank met her in the front of the office to give her the money for bookkeeping and to put in the safe. She took it with a smile. But, Poe had seen the girl¡¯s artificial cheeriness often enough to know that something serious had happened. While Marie smiled brightly, it did not touch her eyes. If anything, her red eyes and still drying cheeks showed that she¡¯d been crying. If she was harassed by a local gang, Frank would want to do something about it. But first, he¡¯d need to convince his apprentice to tell him what was wrong. ¡°There¡¯s some food for you here on the table.¡± ¡°Thank you Poe.¡± Marie uncovered it, and sagged only slightly. It was probably cold. ¡°Do you really dislike the food? I could warm it.¡± ¡°No. It is fine.¡± ¡°Is something else wrong?¡± ¡°No. Yes. Maybe.¡± ¡°A sorcerer may err, but indecision does not suit them.¡± It was a strangely automatic thought. ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like you. Where does that saying come from?¡± ¡°It¡¯s something my great aunt used to say.¡± Frank shrugged. ¡°She¡¯d also say, ¡®Do it, or don¡¯t. There¡¯s no maybe doing it.¡¯¡± ¡°Oh. You never talk about your family.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Frank agreed. He didn¡¯t plan to. Marie picked up the spoon and ate a biteful of rice. Frank did not let her questioning dissuade him. ¡°I still do not have an answer to my question. If I am going to teach you, I need to know if there¡¯s some reason you were crying.¡± ¡°Crying? I wasn¡¯t ¡­¡± Marie touched a hand to her cheek, and then nodded. ¡°Maybe a little.¡± ¡°So?¡± ¡°Mille was beaten, and she¡¯s hurt bad.¡± ¡°Your unlicensed thaumaturge friend?¡± Marie nodded. She ate another bite of the rice. Frank wasn¡¯t sure what to make of Marie¡¯s friend, prostitute, and illegal sorcerer. Marie described Millie as having ¡°shown¡± Marie some magic, but Frank did not approve. Learning from an unlicensed teacher would be trouble. Of course, that just made him a fool right along with Millie; he was not a Master and was not licensed to teach. Still, he was in a much better position than the unfortunate prostitute. The Crown families, on the other hand, bent those rules constantly. One needed only to review the will capacity tests between the ¡°common stock¡± that entered the University to the Crown families. The Crown family members always started with more. He fully intended Marie would also have this advantage. Marie continued eating. ¡°What would you like to do?¡± Frank asked gently. ¡°Mama says Millie is in pain and she can¡¯t walk very well. Can you ¡­ heal her?¡± ¡°How do you mean? I am not a healer.¡± ¡°But, you said magic can do anything, and you have access to magic ¡­¡± ¡°Yes, and so do you. That doesn¡¯t mean either of us can: We need to have studied healing. You¡¯ll find that while all things are possible to magic, skill takes time to acquire. I do not have that skill.¡± ¡°But ¡­¡± ¡°There is a simpler solution. Would you like me to hire a healer to see her?¡± ¡°No, you can¡¯t.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± ¡°I thought about it on the way here; the Morrows would find out and harass you, or the healer, or both. Only someone far away from their territory, or who was untouchable could risk it.¡± Frank admired the maturity that thought that far ahead, although when he was at the height of his skills, the Morrows wouldn¡¯t have dared. Now, he was far from that point. ¡°We¡¯ll think about it then.¡± Frank replied. ¡°Do you want to go see a boy about a curse?¡± It turned out she did. Chapter 13: Meeting the Bad Luck Month 12, Day 4, 10:00AM Marie Marie and Poe returned to the same copper station they had visited the prior week. Marie, again, carried Poe¡¯s big box of components. Poe had said he might cast some low powered divination spells. Marie did note that he seemed better, and he wasn¡¯t smoking. She took that as a good sign. He did not explain his sudden smoking habit, but she liked it better when he didn¡¯t smoke, and he seemed sharper somehow. He met Lieutenant Robards in a crowded office and they left to meet with the station captain. This left Marie on a hard bench outside an interview room. Marie rested the box on the bench next to her, and she tried to relax. She felt angry, sad, fearful, and nervous all at once. She still felt distraught about Mille. She tried to put it out of her mind, but she found it unbearable. Mama was probably right, and Millie needed rest. This did not make it easy to sit and wait. Nor did all the strange looks from passing coppers. At first, Marie thought it was because of her dour expression. She realized this might give a bad impression, so she smiled and tried to look cheerful. But the looks didn¡¯t stop. They were surreptitiously checking her against what looked suspiciously like copies of a certain poster. Posters that Marie had seen on the way in. She stood up, strode to the common table where the posters were neatly stacked, then grabbed one. A box of broad headed tacks supplied her with a way to hang it. She strode briskly back to the bench, and tacked the poster of the Raven Queen up next to her. Honestly! She looked nothing like the woman. The next copper didn''t need to check a piece of paper from their pocket; they just glanced briefly between the poster and Marie¡¯s cheerful smile. Sometime after the fourth copper had checked to be sure that Marie was, in fact, not the Raven Queen, the door to the interview room opened, providing a much needed distraction. The bony fingered sorcerer, Themius, came through, leading a skinny teen. The teen was especially odd, Marie thought. Before walking through the door, he checked to see if the way was clear. Themius spoke the to boy with mild condescension. ¡°Nothing wrong with you boy. Luck magic doesn''t exist anyway, so if you really are worried about whatever this tattoo is, just burn it off.¡± ¡°Thank you for your time, Master Themius. I will consider it.¡± The teen replied. From the boy¡¯s horrified expression, Marie guessed he would rather pull off a fingernail. ¡°I understand that Lieutenant Robards has another consultant arranged to meet you. Wait here on this bench, and he¡¯ll be along shortly.¡± The teen glanced at Marie, and then looked at the bench. He placed his bag next to it carefully. ¡°Can¡¯t be too careful!¡± he chuckled mirthlessly, then leaned over, visually checked the bench¡¯s legs, then ran his fingers over the smooth plain board that made its seat, before he sat next to her. But, he sat carefully, as if he could jump up if the bench suddenly collapsed. Something about the routine did not fit. She¡¯d watched Poe work for a while, and as they sat next to each other for a few moments, Marie tried to puzzle out what didn¡¯t seem normal. After a few moments, Marie realized what it was. His unusual behavior made her examine the teen more closely. He was probably close to the same age as her, a beautiful dark skin, eyes obscured by glasses, wooly head of hair, sturdy plain clothes, and a strange contraption hanging around his neck. The strange box looked familiar, but Marie couldn''t place where she¡¯d seen one before. He was watching her from the corner of his eye, and began to fidget. ¡°So, when did you meet the Raven Queen?¡± Marie asked. ¡°The Raven Queen?¡± He turned to her and sputtered. ¡°How did you ¡­ Ah, what makes you say that?¡± ¡°No reason.¡± Marie lied. Maybe he hadn¡¯t met the Raven Queen. But, he was the first person in ages who did not ask if Marie was the Raven Queen, or even double check the poster. ¡®Honestly, just because I like black?¡¯ Marie thought. ¡°Are you a witness?¡± She asked. ¡°No! ... Or, yes, sort of. But, I¡¯m not here to be a witness.¡± ¡°Oh, so you have met her! Did you see her conjure a monster like the wind? Or did she turn into a Raven?¡± Marie realized this fanciful questioning would be no place to start, so she asked the simple question that Poe would want to know. ¡°Did you see what she stole?¡± ¡°Er. She stole a book. Didn¡¯t she?¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know. I¡¯m not a witness.¡± The boy¡¯ puzzled look finally gave way to a question. ¡°Then ¡­ who are you?¡± ¡°Marie.¡± ¡°Just Marie?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m not being polite.¡± He looked a little embarrassed. The teen held out his hand. ¡°I¡¯m Percival Irving. You can call me Percy.¡± ¡°Charmed.¡± She always liked that greeting. Like she was an aristo, rather than a cleaner¡¯s daughter. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Marie took his hand in hers. His hand was delicate and surprisingly firm in hers. But, there was some sort of tattoo on his wrist. She didn¡¯t get a good look. He withdrew his hand, and covered it with a sleeve. ¡°So, Marie. What are you here for?¡± ¡°I am with the August Agency. My ¡­ supervisor, Mr. Poe, is here to meet with Lieutenant Robards about a boy with a curse.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Percy sagged. ¡°I imagine its you?¡± ¡°Probably.¡± Since he seemed a little dejected, Marie tried to think of a happier conversation topic and failed. Curiosity, however, couldn¡¯t contain her for long. ¡°What is that box around your neck?¡± ¡°Oh!¡± Percy brightened. ¡°It¡¯s a camera obscura! This one is the Vista 500. It makes pictures of whatever I point it at. It¡¯s the wave of the future. It¡¯s made with the new thaumaturge created spell arrays.¡± Percy pointed at the fine tracery of metals that crossed the box. Marie peered at the complex spell arrays with interest. ¡°Oh, that looks complex.¡± Marie said. And, it did. The camera was orders of magnitude more complicated than the spell she used to make the raven call. ¡°What¡¯s the round thing in the middle?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a lens that helps capture the light and make the picture. This camera¡¯s lens is really good; you can get pictures really close, or really far away. The light goes through the lens, and onto a ¡®negative¡¯ disks to capture the picture, and then after you develop the negative, you can make a print of the image as many times as you want. They¡¯re really accurate too. Like much better than a portrait. And there¡¯s a way to link the camera to a light crystal that will flash so you can take pictures even in a dark studio. The flash automatically moves a shutter¡ªthat¡¯s this thing here¡ª¡± Percy pointed to a visible piece behind the lens, ¡°which can open and close up to 1/500 of a second!¡± Marie was not sure what that meant, but Percy seemed very impressed. ¡°So. Okay, but what is it good for?¡± ¡°Well, for a little silver, you can make an exact portrait. Like, if the someone saw the Raven Queen, and they had a camera obscura, they could take a picture and then they¡¯d know exactly what she looked like!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you think that would make the Raven Queen angry?¡± ¡°Why would she be upset?¡± Percy sounded genuinely puzzled. ¡°Well, if I was the Raven Queen, which I¡¯m not, and someone had a perfect portrait, I¡¯d want to stop them giving it to the Coppers.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡®Surely this boy isn¡¯t that thickheaded?¡± Marie thought. She closed one eye and peered at him suspiciously. ¡®Is this part of his curse?¡¯ Marie pointed to the poster. ¡°That¡¯s an okay image of her, right? But. Is it exactly what she looks like?¡± The teen looked thoughtful for a moment, remembering. ¡°No, she didn¡¯t look exactly like that.¡± He said. He really had seen her before! Marie tried not be too smug. ¡°If everyone knew exactly what she looked like, wouldn¡¯t it be easier to recognize her?¡± She asked. Realization dawned on Percy¡¯s face. ¡°Also,¡± Marie continued, ¡°the Raven Queen is known for being vindictive. Wouldn¡¯t she be angry with someone who shared a perfect picture?¡± ¡°Oh.¡± He swallowed. ¡°I didn¡¯t think about that.¡± Marie smiled sweetly. ¡®He¡¯s not really dumb, he just doesn¡¯t understand how the underworld works.¡¯ ¡°Of course, if someone had a picture like that, maybe they could sell it to the Raven Queen; she might pay to keep it out of the hands of her enemies. If she didn¡¯t just kill them.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Percy gulped, and then nodded thoughtfully. ¡°But, I¡¯d never take a picture of the Raven Queen; that seems risky just to make a little gold.¡± Marie nodded in agreement. ¡®Risky indeed.¡¯ Marie thought. ¡°Tell me more about your camera?¡± Marie asked. It was fascinating how magic created these pictures from life. Percy tried to explain how the camera worked, and he answered Marie¡¯s questions to the best of his ability. Percy admired the results; Marie admired the methods. Percy, however, did not know much about the spell arrays that the camera used. Marie couldn¡¯t tell him what little she knew, because she worried that Poe wouldn¡¯t approve. Poe eventually returned with Lieutenant Robards from whatever he was doing, probably making the oath. Frank was pleased about something or other, because he seemed cheerful. Percy stood and greeted the Robards warmly. Robards led them back into the interview room. Marie set the component box at one end of the rectangular table. With only three chairs around it, Marie had to remain standing while the other three took their places around it. Poe sat on one side, and Robards and Percy sat on the other, them Poe began his examination. Marie just stood next to Poe¡¯s shoulder. Marie noticed a single conspicuous moth fluttering around the dim overhead light. ¡°So, what can you tell me about this curse?¡± ¡°I have always had bad luck.¡± ¡°Really? Nothing you do succeeds?¡± ¡°Well, no. More like, the kind of luck that makes it important for me to look up every time I pass under a balcony, just to make sure no potted plants are plunging toward my head. The kind that makes me carry around a second pair of glasses and shoes everywhere I go.¡± ¡°So ¡­ bad luck. A carriage might turn a corner at just the wrong moment, or a handrail give way and drop you in a canal.¡± ¡°Something like that.¡± Percy shuddered, and Robards smirked. ¡°But, its been better recently. Sort of.¡± ¡°How?¡± Percy began explaining that he¡¯d met a hag and bought a talisman, then he¡¯d still had bad luck, but it was ¡­ more directed. He patiently explained some of these adventures. Marie found them bizarre. More surprising, she recognized the Morrow thieves. These were dangerous men, and his story sounded impossible. ¡®Accidentally overpower them?¡¯ Marie thought. ¡®Magic would almost certainly have to be involved.¡¯ Poe took this explanation entirely without comment. He just allowed Percy to tell his story, and Poe nodded along. Marie noticed, however, that the Koi on Poe¡¯s coat had a drifting quality; the movements were subtle, but the coat was coming alive. Poe didn¡¯t seem to notice, and he continued his interrogation. ¡°So. A tattoo? Would you show it to me?¡± Percy dutifully rolled up a sleeve and showed it. Poe reached out to hold the boy¡¯s wrist. Poe leaned over the table to get a good look. Marie peered over Poe¡¯s shoulder. There were beautifully fine lines traced into a bug of some kind. It looked like ¡­ ¡°A moth?¡± Poe recoiled, jumping up and knocking his chair over. Marie jumped back from the falling chair and Poe. Percy pulled back his arm. ¡°Are you ok, Mr. Poe?¡± Percy asked. ¡°You saw it Marie? The moth?¡± Poe blurted to Marie. ¡°I ¡­ yeah.¡± ¡°It¡¯s the same. It¡¯s the same variety.¡± Poe said. ¡°I don¡¯t know what that means. It¡¯s ¡­¡± Poe started muttering to himself. ¡°Are you well, Frank?¡± Robards asked. ¡°No. I¡¯m not.¡± Poe replied with a shaking voice. ¡°Frigg was warning us to stay away. Why didn¡¯t I listen?¡± Chapter 14: The Good News is You Won’t Remember Month 12, Day 4 10:45AM Marie ¡°Frigg? Who is Frigg?¡± Robards asked. ¡°Calder. I¡¯m sorry. I had no idea this would happen.¡± Frank began to rummage through his component box. He found a brush and an screw top bottle, the pulled out a thumb sized beast core. He began painting a spell array on the table. Marie was particularly concerned about Percy. He looked very alarmed. ¡°Master?¡± Marie asked. Frank was muttering, and it sounded like he was saying ¡°River, swim, current.¡± over and over. ¡°Poe? ¡­ Frank?¡± Marie had never seen him like this. ¡°When the Raven behaves that way, she is telling me not to get involved. I can¡¯t ¡­ Frigg understood. It was me that did not. I was so interested in thinking about your future, I was not paying attention to the present. Do you understand?¡± He looked over the frame of his glasses, and looked at Marie in the eyes. ¡°You¡¯re scaring him.¡± Poe looked up at the teen. He shrugged. ¡°Sorry kid. Your talisman is not dangerous. Probably. This is something to do with me.¡± ¡°What ¡­ what do you mean?¡± Percy leaned forward in his chair to watch Poe construct the array. Robards, on the other hand, was looking toward the door. ¡®The copper wants to go for help.¡¯ Marie thought. ¡®I wonder if Frank will let him.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯ve got a curse. It¡¯s like your curse, somewhat.¡± Poe replied. ¡°My curse came from an experiment with fate magic. There are people and events that I must not interact with. I check, you see, with an oracle, to make sure I avoid making mistakes.¡± ¡°Oracle?¡± Poe seemingly ignored the question, but then he continued. ¡°It¡¯s something that I have to do. If I don¡¯t, I can get tangled too deep with fates that are better left alone. And, messing with the natural order ¡­ it doesn¡¯t go well. So, the curse helps people forget me. It balances fate.¡± ¡°It¡¯s my luck?¡± ¡°No.¡± Poe continued talking, uninterrupted in his work. ¡°Luck magic ¡­ well it is not the it doesn¡¯t exist. It does exist. Sort of. Anyone can make an endeavor more likely to succeed; the harder you work, the more likely success will follow. Moreover, magic to prepare for success can modify specific probabilities. So, that is luck, of a kind. Your problem, and mine, have to do with Fate magic. Fate magic ¡­ sets the flow of the present into the future.¡± Frank Someone gave you that talisman, and linked your augury to moths. My augury are ravens. And, the one I consulted doesn''t want me to interact with you.¡± ¡°Frank, what are you doing?¡± Calder asked. Poe did not answer. Marie had seen Poe behave alarmingly. She¡¯d seen him look manic after returning from consulting Frigg. She had seen him after the Copper¡¯s divination. He went beyond that, into the territory of frightening. The boy looked nervously at her. She tried to smile reassuringly. She suspected that she¡¯d failed. He scooted away from the table, and he was beginning to rock forward to stand, when Poe looked up and glared at him. ¡°The good news is, you won¡¯t remember this.¡± Poe finished his freehand array. To Marie, it appeared as precise as if he¡¯d used a compass and a straightedge. There was a huge circle, nearly the entire width of the table and lines crisscrossing to make a huge regular hendekagram. But, inside it was a perfect circle, and inside that a curving line that made two balanced symmetrical shapes. A line from one edge linked to a third empty circle. Poe put the brush down and began snapping down metal tokens inside this smaller circle array. Each one had the fine tracery of an artifact, but they were placed in the empty spaces, one in the middle, and two at the points where they touched each line. And, in the middle of each metal token, some sort of component appeared sandwiched between glass. ¡®Fish scales?¡¯ She thought. Poe put the beast core in an empty space on circle that was attached to the side of the array. ¡°Frank!¡± Robards said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. This won¡¯t change you at all.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± Percy asked, alarmed. He looked like he would try to stand again, but he wasn¡¯t quick enough. Poe stuck his left hand in a pocket, and raised his right hand toward the spell array. ¡°Time a river. Fate a current. I a koi. Swim the current. Swim the river.¡± Poe intoned. The other two stared at him agape, and began to talk over one another. Poe just repeated the bizarre chant. The second time, the first word seemed like it was more real. The third time, the last word of each phrase seemed more real. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Just as Marie was about to try to get more explanation, the brightly colored Koi on Poe¡¯s coat erupted with motion, flashing into the air, then filling the room; a school of fish swimming in the air around them. Marie could see every iridescent scale; white like pearls, orange like sunset, and black like raven feathers. The fish swam in the air, and she turned her head to watch them swim in a school around the room. ¡°Now.¡± Poe sighed. ¡°Now we¡¯re safe.¡± Poe said. Marie looked across the table at the other two; they were wide eyed with shock, but unmoving, like stones. ¡°Still with me Marie?¡± Poe said. Marie turned to him, and she noticed her hair floated, like they were underwater. Even Poe¡¯s hair stood on end and waved like underwater plants. ¡°Poe, what is this?¡± ¡°It¡¯s ¡­¡± Poe made a strangling noise, then took another breath. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you much about the spell actually. I¡¯m under a compulsion to withhold that information.¡± ¡°What can you tell me?¡± ¡°Now that I understand Frigg¡¯s warning, I must not give this boy any advice on his tattoo. Or moths. Or potentially anything really. The consequences could be catastrophic.¡± ¡°How?¡± Poe shrugged. ¡°Could be anything. His curse could kill him. My curse could kill me. Reality might break and kill us all. Although, I¡¯m more likely to become an aberrant, and just kill everyone in the room.¡± Marie squeaked. She wanted to ask another question, but she was not sure what it would be. For a possible destruction of everything Poe seemed to have calmed himself. Poe looked less wild and more thoughtful. He stuck his right hand in this pocket. Poe watched the fish swirl about the room for a bit. They all swum and brushed against Marie, Poe, and Robards. But, they avoided Percy, especially the arm with the tattoo. ¡°Not that I think he¡¯s cursed in the ordinary way. He might actually be better off with the tattoo.¡± Poe observed. ¡°I¡¯d love to meet that hag. But, I bet she wouldn¡¯t want to be anywhere near me.¡± His voice seemed more resonant in the surreal space. ¡°I do not understand.¡± Marie replied. Her voice felt strange in her ears. It sounded shiny, like a mirror. The other two remained unmoving, like statues. ¡°We¡¯ve got the ability to make our own decisions, right?¡± Poe¡¯s voice echoed in the space, now sounding as if he was talking into a barrel. ¡°Sure. Didn¡¯t you say so?¡± The sound of Marie¡¯s reply wobbled like splashing water. ¡°Right. Mostly. There are times when we don¡¯t make our decisions alone. Not all our decisions. Imagine there¡¯s a story being written with all the details left vague, but the outline must always ring true.¡± Poe¡¯s voice sounded quiet, but backward echos made it sound briefly louder ¡°Yes?¡± Marie wasn''t sure what that meant at all. And her voice changed again; sounding like crystal. ¡°That is fate magic. You can¡¯t tell what the future is, but, there¡¯s a shape to it. Possibilities going one way or the next. It all fits in that shape: like a gestalt of events. We tried to ¡­ well. Let¡¯s not talk about that now. My will¡ªeven assisted as it is by my coat¡¯s enchantment and a bigger than usual spell array¡ªisn''t going to last forever.¡± Whispers now followed Poe¡¯s words, sounds chasing each other. ¡°Why am I not¡± Marie gestured to the other two still forms, ¡°like that?¡± Was her voice sounding more like breaking the ice that formed on the tops of rain barrels? Poe laughed. ¡°I don¡¯t know! Isn¡¯t it amazing?¡± Poe¡¯s voice had a sound like trumpets behind it. ¡°Um.¡± Marie smelled a fresh water pond. She wasn¡¯t sure why she thought of that; the only thing she¡¯d smelt was canal water. ¡°Write them a note; something simple that says I didn¡¯t find anything. The tattoo is probably harmless.¡± Poe¡¯s voice was beginning to sound normal again. ¡°Is it?¡± ¡°Who knows?¡±Poe reached toward the spell array. The koi were gone, the inky marks from the array disappeared, then Poe swept an arm over the table taking all of the coins, the brush, the ink bottle, and his beast core into his hands. He shoved the lotinto his coat¡¯s front pockets. Robards and Percy blinked. ¡°Apologies Calder, but there¡¯s nothing to report. Pleasure to meet you Mr. Irving. While that tattoo is very elegant, you will need to consult someone else on any magical effect it has.¡± Poe said. ¡°Marie will write you a receipt.¡± And, without waiting for a response, he strode out. Marie covered her eyes in embarrassment. ¡°What in Myrddin is that man about?¡± She muttered. Percy looked puzzled. ¡°Was that ¡­ fish?¡± ¡°Koi. It¡¯s a type of decorative carp.¡± The Lieutenant replied. ¡°Oh! We have a tank with fish like that at the restaurant.¡± ¡°Mm.¡± The Lieutenant nodded. ¡°Uh, So, is there something wrong?¡± Percy asked Marie. Percy showed showing the signs of Poe¡¯s curse: glazing eyes, puzzled expression, and lost memories. ¡°He cast a spell, but he ¡­ wait, why am I thinking about fish? Did his coat have fish on it?¡± ¡°Does anyone smell water? Like a pond?¡± Robards asked. Marie had already witnessed Robards¡¯ poor resistance to the curse, and he was fading even faster this time. Marie wondered if the curse tugged at her memory as well.She tried to remember; where had she smelled a freshwater pond before? The images of Koi floated in her mind; when had she recognized what koi were? She needed to write the note, reminiscing would have to happen later. ¡°Sorry! One moment while a prepare a receipt!¡± Marie had a pad of paper, a small, portable bottle of ink with a dip pen for writing. She was tempted to just write down everything that happened, and let these two sort out Poe on their own. But, in the end, she liked Percy, and it would be better if he was not involved in Poe¡¯s nonsense. In fact, as she wrote, she wondered if she should continue participating in this mess. So, she wrote a very simple explanation: the tattoo was probably not dangerous, Poe could say nothing more about Percy¡¯s curse, and, because Marie was trying to be kind, she told them to not worry too much about it. As she was writing, the other two were almost about to ask her a question, when she held up a finger to stop them, and finished the last line. ¡°Here you are gentlemen.¡± She handed both a near identical copy of the receipt. There wasn''t much point in hanging around. She gathered the component box and fled. She found Poe outside, pipe in hand. But, it was unlit. ¡°Thank you Marie.¡± Poe said calmly. He seemed fine. The koi on his coat didn¡¯t move. ¡°Poe. Are you gong to explain what happened?¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t I already?¡± ¡°¡­ No?¡± ¡°I should think it was obvious. I cast a spell.¡± ¡°I meant, what happened that made you like this. Your curse.¡± ¡°We experimented with magic better left alone.¡± Poe¡¯s haunted look stilled any more questions Marie had. Chapter 15: Implications Month 12, Day 4, 4:00PM Frank Poe Hours later, Frank sat at his desk with a fat sheaf of paper that had been carefully bound in red tape through the nine holes that were punched through the stack. The ¡°cover¡± of the file was an encryption array. Linked with the red tape binding, the array kept the file safe from any prying eyes that did not have the ¡°key.¡± Frank had memorized the string of numbers and letters which served as that key. He was rereading it the third time to make sure he had not missed anything. The oath, to his delight, had only been a mild blood print vow. He was required to keep it secret from anyone ¡°not assisting in the investigation.¡± He almost laughed at them. Either they were incompetent, or they planned to give him information that was practically common knowledge. Then Frank¡¯s good mood after receiving his bound copy of the official investigative summaries was significantly dampened; his meeting with the boy could only be described as disastrous. ¡®What a debacle.¡¯ Frank thought. ¡®What were the chances I would find another fate-cursed individual?¡¯ Apparently, it was a one-in-one chance. There was no such thing as coincidence. That boy was present at the battle between the stags and the Morrows. He could have been a source of information to rival the Coppers. But, Frank had no doubt that any further interaction with Percy should only occur at a very long distance away. And, given the boy¡¯s story of misfortune, he was more dangerous than a red sun at morning. Storms would follow that boy wherever he went. Frank would keep an eye out for moths. That hadn¡¯t been the only surprise. Marie proved immune to the koi. Obviously, she had only been slightly affected by his curse, but the koi technically affected people seperately. When completely active, others besides Frank would not usually see them. There were implications. He could consult the Red Guard who developed his artifact coat and spell array, but that would mean they would want to examine Marie. The thought of her being subjected to their examination troubled him. The Red Guard used ungentle examinations of the new or the different. Of course they purportedly took an oath to defend humanity. But, defending humanity didn¡¯t always include defending individual humans. In fact, the opposite was true. If an experiment on an individual would keep humanity safe, well ¡­ The lives of the many outweighed the lives of the few. Fair enough. Until the Red Guard counted you among the few. Frank felt lucky to have survived them; but, perhaps he was being unfair. The Red Guard did supply the coat, and it was a marvel. HIs koi coat had a number of protections that stabilized the will, had built defensive, anti-curse, and anti-divination wards. It was self repairing, self cleaning, and had between twenty and thirty pockets¡ªFrank never made a full count¡ªsome of which were expanded spaces, and many of which he could never figure out what to fill with. Of course, the silk koi hand stitched into the carefully dyed blue wool included a remarkable spell. The koi-stabilization spell was built into his coat like an artifact. Without it, he doubted the Red Guard would have allowed him to walk around in public at all. But, he could also draw the koi stabilization spell array and cast it with the components. Moreover, so long as he was wearing the coat, and muttered the chant, he could even cast the stabilization spell with a surprisingly mild application of will. It would also automatically react in the presence of certain conditions. In any case, this time the spell worked exactly as designed. Whatever dangerous effects his curse might have had on Percy, Frank felt sure that the spell negated them. Frank¡¯s meeting would unlikely crack the foundations of the future. Frank concluded that his mistake with Frigg had been consulting with her while he had will strain. Just a little bit of expression of his will, and he could have read Frigg better. He¡¯d become complacent. Frank had no excuse. With those dire musings out of the way, he definitely had good news for Professor Lacer. The coppers arranged the file with the most recent reports on top, and in those first slender few pages Frank learned that it wasn¡¯t only the Verdant Stag that had some influence over the Raven Queen. And, because Lacer had already assisted at the scene of the fight, Frank had no trouble sharing. There were many interesting things to share. For instance, Ennis Naught. Reading through the entire file, Frank learned that Ennis Naught seemed a relatively vain and shallow man. According to the investigators, just the sort of dupe that Raven Queen could manipulate with her deeper schemes.While he seemed to be her father, the file wondered how a clever teenage could so thoroughly embarrass everyone who was seeking her out. In the earlier summaries of his testimony, Frank read that Ennis was, for instance, very upset that the coppers had not retrieved his ¡°valuables¡± from the his room at the inn; his trinkets included a enchanted fire lighter, a gold and silver filigree smoking box, an ivory comb, and a few changes of clothes that were, purportedly, ¡°the finest quality wool.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Frank snorted. If you were bragging about your clothes, they were not that nice. But, that first summary of Ennis¡¯s interview revealed the leverage to get the Raven Queen to meet with Lacer. Ennis¡ªprobably more interested in his own skin than the well being of his daughter¡ªentered into a dubious marriage agreement with the Gervins. In exchange, he gave his most valuable possession to them: his wife¡¯s ring. A powerful conduit with enchantments that were subtle and difficult to replicate, the Naught Family passed the an heirloom from mother to daughter. Siobhan Naught seemed to be the last. When the Raven Queen used a well-known piece of blood magic to send a second raven to speak with Ennis, she claimed that her original conduit was broken during the first communication. Accordingly, the Raven Queen wanted her ring. That second communication was a surprisingly desperate move; she must have wanted the ring very badly. Especially since the messenger spell would always kill the raven she used. He felt a little sad for these ravens; some of her character showed in casting that spell. Sacrifice creatures for her own ends, the Raven Queen was ruthless enough to cast blood magic and sacrifice innocent creatures for her magic. While killing a likely hand-raised raven was no worse than eating a roast chicken, Frank was mostly vegetarian for a reason. Still, the ring would be the perfect way to get a meeting without the involvement of the Stags, if Frank or Thaddeus Lacer could discover a way to contact her. Frank knew all too well how important a connection to a mother could be. Frank figured that she would have been incredibly angry with her father for giving the heirloom away to strangers, and the opportunity to get it back would be a good method to meet her. Frank had enough information to go back to Grandmaster Lacer. He wrote Lacer for a meeting. He delivered the note to Marie, for her to carry to the University. He found her at the worktable working through the lessons in the primer. ¡°I have a note for you to deliver to the University. You wouldn¡¯t have any trouble delivering it, would you?¡± ¡°No.¡± Marie replied, looking up from her work. She seemed to be practicing the drawing exercises, and she¡¯d drawn miniature versions of the animal call spell, as well as triangles, squares, pentagrams, hexagrams, and octograms. She put away her pencil and drawing tools, then she took the note and stood, but paused before she walked to the door. ¡°Poe, I was wondering about glamour spells ¡­ How hard are they?¡± ¡°Glamour spells?¡± Frank wondered if there was someone she wanted to impress. Frank first guessed that she was just curious about the magic. ¡°Let¡¯s see.¡± Frank tried to recall the full range of magic that thaumaturges called glamour. ¡°There are different types, and some glamours are more difficult than others. Light and illusion magic, of course, can change how people look. That¡¯s simple to understand, but difficult to execute because it takes a clever imagination. Potions can give glamour as well ¡­ Cortez¡¯ Youth Potion makes one seem younger for a few hours, but it doesn¡¯t actually have any long-term effect on the body. That can be made by an young thaumaturge in exchange for a several hours of patient application of their will.¡± Frank paused. ¡°Those are the legal spells.¡± ¡°What about the illegal ones?¡± ¡°I will not be teaching these to you during you apprenticeship with me, but you should know what to avoid. The illegal spells affect the mind. These spells make the target of the spell attractive, usually sexually attractive, but not always. Sometimes they just fascinate. Also, so-called ¡®love potions¡¯ cause infatuation or even obsession; these can either make the drinker seem attractive or make the drinker attracted to someone else. The illegal effect these has on the mind can be dangerous, but that doesn''t make them hard to find.¡± Marie seemed to contemplate that for a moment. ¡°What about arousal potions? I¡¯ve heard them called ¡®love potions¡¯ too. What kind of magic are they?¡± Frank blushed furiously. Of course she would know about those. ¡°Those have a physiological effect and are not illegal, usually.¡± ¡°Physiological?¡± ¡°Oh, those just affect the ah ¡­ body parts involved.¡± ¡°Ok.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Frank asked. ¡°I just ¡­ wanted to know more about the spells Mille was using, and when I¡¯d be able to cast them.¡± Frank puzzled on that response for a bit. Marie always seemed confident enough about herself that she wouldn¡¯t be interested changing her appearance. Except. ¡°If you want fewer people to ask about you looking like the Raven Queen, you may need to wear something other than black.¡± Frank advised. ¡°No. I was hoping to attract a lover.¡± Marie replied earnestly. Frank gasped. ¡°You ¡­ you are entirely too young for ¡­¡± Frank sputtered. Then Maire¡¯s face broke into a mischievous grin, and she laughed. ¡°Got you. Actually, Mille handled all the glamours at the massage parlor, and I wondered when I could do that kind of magic.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Frank breathed in relief. ¡°Only masters are allowed to sell magic to others; apprentices and journeyman are restricted in their ability to sell magic. But even so, you won¡¯t be able to cast those spells for a long time; perhaps as long as several years.¡± ¡°Mille can do them though.¡± ¡°Mille is an adult. You can learn more about glamour at the university, but since you insist, I¡¯ll show you an optical spell that you can learn with low will requirements. The spell makes a color changing light. It will be good practice if you are interested in all sorts of visual magic. Hiding small facial blemishes might be something you could do for a short period of time or making a very simple concealing potion, but a longer-lasting potion or enchantment based spell would take time to build your capacity.¡± Frank paused. ¡°Mille showed me one of her spells once and tried to explain it to me, she said it wasn¡¯t hard.¡± Frank knew Marie was sensitive about Mille, especially now that the prostitute was hurt, but, he needed to impress Marie with caution. ¡°Even if you knew Mille¡¯s spells, actually casting spells of that level is dangerous for you. At least now while you have a low capacity. You must write down and show me any of her magics before you try them. I¡¯ll need to supervise all your magic.¡± Marie seemed to nod. Frank rubbed the stubble on his chin. Marie would be the death of him. ¡®I¡¯d never be able to look Mama Stella in the eye if I allowed Marie to ¡­ attract that sort of attention. I¡¯ll have to keep an eye on her.¡¯ Frank hoped he didn¡¯t look too obviously distressed. ¡°I¡¯ll go drop this off.¡± ¡°Be back before dark?¡± Poe asked. ¡°Sure.¡± Marie replied easily, and she strode out of the office with Frank¡¯s letter in hand. ¡®Why did I take an apprentice again?¡¯ Frank thought. Chapter 16: Hungry Predators Month 12, Day 5, 7:00 AM Marie The following morning, dressed in her black dress, black makeup refreshed, and with her ruana cloak pinned in place, Millie headed to Hands, Hearts, and Palms to visit her Mama. Marie wondered if she would be able to go see Millie today, after. She was glad she¡¯d asked Poe about glamours. After returning from dropping the note off at the University gate, Marie learned a color changing light spell from Frank, and got some supervised practice in. They ran through a full spectrum of colors, including an interesting ¡°black light.¡± Apparently, ¡°black light¡± was some sort of higher frequency light that only seemed to make teeth and Poe¡¯s leaded glass decanter glow slightly. In the office, Poe also permitted her to try the raven calling spell again. No raven came since they were indoors, so Marie hid her disappointment. He also showed her a variation with chimes and another with the sound of seagulls. As Marie walked the streets just after sunrise, there weren¡¯t many people around. Mornings were the safest time Morrows territory: all the gang members were sleeping or headed to bed. If you lived among the gangs long enough, you could get the rhythm of it. Gangs worked at night. By the morning, most prostitutes sleep, the thieves and robbers fled the empty streets, the smugglers finished their deliveries. Even daytime gang members weren¡¯t troublesome in the mornings; the illicit potion dealers would get ready for a busy day on their corner. A daytime ganger had no reason to stick out and make a fuss. Even in Morrow territory, only the respectable people were on the streets in the mornings, walking to their jobs as stevedores, bakers, shop stewards, builders, or other city workers. The moneyed people had fled to their manors hours before. Only the most dedicated of the Morrow¡¯s members worked mornings. Since the streets were clear, Marie did not think to take any of the less obvious routes. She walked on the broad streets and headed straight there. So, when Marie arrived at the Hands, Hearts, and Palms, the three Morrows hanging around the entrance meant she¡¯s allowed herself to fall directly into an ambush. Their clothes were neat and ironed free of wrinkles, if a little worn, and they showed a bit of the red in the lining of their suits, the bright red neckties, and carefully fitted red armbands with an embroidered and stylized M. Marie placed them a class above the typical Morrow. ¡®Collectors¡¯ Marie thought. If a better class of client came up short on a loan, a fine shopkeeper failed to pay protection, or an otherwise slightly wealthier person got crosswise with Lord Morrow, they would be rewarded with a a visit from the well-dressed collectors. They collected money, or barring that, pieces. Marie, like her Mama, wasn¡¯t inclined to profanity. But, she mentally ran through some of the more common words in use for illegitimate children and vulgar anatomy. Marie slowed her walking pace and considered going in the back entrance. The Collectors would have no reason to talk to her, would they? She could probably even go through the front door without any trouble. Still, when she was just turning at the opening of the alley to the back, the smallest one in the group called out to her. ¡°Look who it is.¡± The blonde man called, with a smile too wide to be genuine. ¡°It¡¯s little Marie.¡± Kett Blue Eyes. Marie knew him, though thankfully not well; he was attractive enough. But, he made regular claims on the prostitutes¡¯ time at the parlor. He wasn¡¯t so high in the Morrows to be considered one of the inner executives, but he reported to Lord Morrow¡¯s number two. To Marie, his bright blue eyes were always as cold and unblinking as a sharks; he was a predator with an appetite for violence. Not the worst Morrow, but not the best either. When he¡¯d stopped by when Marie worked the counter, she was just a little bit glad Dinky was there. ¡°Just who we were talking about, isn¡¯t that right?¡± And the two slabs of muscle with Kett, squeezed too tight into their clothes, nodded. Marie smiled brightly back. Time seemed to slow, and all those important lessons Marie had gotten about dealing with violent people rushed through her mind. Dinky was not a particularly articulate man, but he¡¯d once given Marie some advice on dealing with intimidation: ¡°It ¡®elps to be big, but showing fear never goes quite rig¡¯t eit¡¯er.¡± He¡¯d looked her up and down. ¡°You are so little. Best you don¡¯t let t¡¯em get close.¡± Marie¡¯s Mama had slightly different advice. ¡°Avoid trouble first. But, you keep your knife handy, and if you gotta cut ¡®em, cut where it hurts: eyes, ears, nose, or cut em in the bicep or down low on their legs. Just about anywhere down low is alright. Once you decide to cut ¡®em, you can¡¯t care about them at all. Just do it. Then get away sharpish.¡± In fourteen years, Marie had luckily never had to actually be worried enough to use the advice of either. But, she had taken it. She¡¯d learned how to keep the knife on the inside of a dress, where she could get at it through a pocket. She¡¯d learned how to hold her knife so it wouldn¡¯t slip out of her hand or bind in a cut. She¡¯d even spent a little time practicing when Dinky showed her the basics. Not that any of that would do any good. Blue Eyes and the other two Morrows would be carrying wands¡ªprobably lethal ones. Running was out. First, Marie couldn¡¯t run to the parlor. Because the parlor was a Morrows¡¯ business, they¡¯d just order it searched and she¡¯d be drug out. Second, while Marie desperately wanted to run to Poe, she would struggle to outrun the adults. Some teenagers were full of life and energy; they could run for blocks. She thought about Percy¡¯s story. Percy was athletic. Marie was not. Besides, they could just shoot her in the back. Maybe if it were dark she could improvise. But, it was daytime and there was more than enough light to spot her. All this went through her mind in a flash. No hiding. No running. No real defense. Maybe she should be asking Poe about self-defense spells instead of glamours. Marie stopped dead still, at a distance she hoped was beyond their reach, and casually tucked her hands in her pockets. The knife was handy. For all the good that it would do. Marie smiled. Marie had her own philosophy about hungry predators like Kett: Don¡¯t be on the menu. And, he liked to hear the sound of his own voice. ¡°My, my, and you are looking well. New clothes. New colors.¡± ¡°New color? I just have the black. And my red.¡± Marie flipped a corner of her cloak to show the red. ¡°Easy enough to turn your cloak. Not green yet?¡± The blond scoffed. ¡°You were seen visiting enemies of Lord Morrow. Are you sure your loyal?¡± ¡°My boss is an investigator. He¡¯s investigating.¡± ¡°At the Pack? At the Coppers? At the Stags?¡± Marie smiled again. Inside, her heart was pounding, and she felt the tremble in her fingers. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. ¡°He was hired to track down the Raven Queen. She¡¯s an enemy of yours. Who else should he ask?¡± ¡°Maybe. Maybe. But no one but you seems to be able to say what he¡¯s doing. There¡¯s rumors you even met with that vigilante kid. You know that the kid put some of our people away? Besides, If you¡¯re still a Morrow, why isn¡¯t it ¡®our¡¯ enemies?¡± ¡°The August Agency is neutral.¡± Kett scoffed. Marie tried hard not to be obvious that her weight was shifting for her to flee. Kett stared hard at her. He was trying for intimidation. Marie gripped the knife handle in her pocket. She felt the warm leather wrapping get tacky with the sweat building on her palm. ¡°Did you want to talk about something?¡± Marie asked. ¡°Yeah.¡± Kettle returned to his creepy smile. ¡°We¡¯ve been told you are learning to do glamours. So, you¡¯ll be providing that service at the parlor soon.¡± ¡°Not yet.¡± Marie replied as cool as possible. ¡°I haven¡¯t talked to Madame about it.¡± If they needed her for something, she might be able to keep Kett appeased. ¡°It¡¯s time you started showing your value to the Morrows, kid. There was an investment in you, and that debt gotta be paid off. Or, maybe I¡¯ll be around to collect.¡± He wasn¡¯t smiling now. Marie felt her face go hot. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t ¡­¡± Kett interrupted. ¡°You think we got a problem beating a kid? Or maybe your mother will take the beating for you? Madame got the message. In fact, I think ¡­¡± As he took a step, Marie shifted her back foot, and got ready to draw the knife. But Dinky came out of the parlor. ¡°Marie! w¡¯at are you doing out ¡®ere?¡± Dinky bellowed. ¡°Come inside.¡± Kett turned toward Dinky. ¡°Stay out of this.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t t¡¯ink I will, Kett.¡± Dinky replied quietly. ¡°You touch an ¡®air on that girl, and after those two are pick¡¯ng your teeth out the gutter, I¡¯ll go make sure ¡®er Da knows you threatened ¡®er. And, you¡¯re life won¡¯t be worth a half candle.¡± Kett went to grab something from under his coat, but Dinky had a big black battle wand out before Kettle even reached his pocket. One of the other two goons seemed to be a bit quicker, but a stunner from Dinky flashed and put the man on the ground. The other goon and Kettle froze when Dinky¡¯s wand snapped back to point at them. ¡°The Boss gave me orders.¡± Marie heard the capital letter in Dinky¡¯s voice. Lord Morrow had given orders to DInky? ¡°Marie¡¯s protected. Come over here Marie. We going back in the parlor, and these fellas are going on their way. Right?¡± Kett Blue Eye¡¯s smile was entirely gone now. Marie walked quickly past the trio of enforcers and hid behind Dinky as they backed through the parlor door. Kett and his uninjured bodyguard did not follow. In the reception area, Dinky looked a Marie with concern and his brow furrowed. ¡°You Ok?¡± he asked. ¡°Yeah.¡± Marie breathed in and out unsteadily. ¡°What was that about?¡± Before Dinky could reply, Madame came into the reception, her face battered, and one of her eyes was swelling shut. ¡®She didn¡¯t get that falling down some stairs. She¡¯s been beaten.¡¯ Marie realized. ¡®Was that the message Kett talked about?¡¯ ¡°Thank you Dinky.¡± Madame said. The bruises were red and turning purple. Whatever hurt her, it happened recently. ¡°Maire, come back to the office. Dinky, go get her Mama.¡± A few minutes later, they were all gathered in Madame¡¯s office: Marie, Dinky, Mama, and Madame. Madame sat at her big polished desk, which was cleared of books an papers, and not a single speck of dirt, except a few droplets of blood on the side closest to her. Madame pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped them from the surface, returning it to a mirror-like shine. ¡°Marie, I am sorry. I made a mistake that thinking that Lord Morrow would let me pay the tribute and that would be the end of it. It ¡­ was not. Kett and those b ¡­ his friends ¡­ had questions about where the money came from. Then, they asked questions about why we closed, questions about you, questions about Millie, and questions about Poe.¡± Madame said.. Marie thought there was more to it than that. Questions don¡¯t leave bruises. ¡°They did that to you. Why?¡± ¡°They accused me of embezzling. And beat me to ¡®make sure I was telling the truth¡¯ about the money.¡± ¡°What? That¡¯s dumb! The Morrows are criminals: of course we¡¯re embezzling.¡± Madame gave a wincing smile. ¡°It really was just that they didn¡¯t want to believe that I could personally carry the loss of a day closed. They don''t have anything to take to Lord Morrow. Don¡¯t worry.¡± ¡°Ain¡¯t right.¡± Dinky mumbled. ¡°shoulda let me stop them.¡± Madame laughed bitterly, then coughed a bit. She stiffened slightly; Marie figured that they¡¯d hit her in places other than her face. ¡°No, that¡¯s more trouble we don''t need. I sold Lord Morrow on this being a place with class. Or, more class anyway. He owns it. He¡¯d just replace me with someone worse, like that ¡­ slaver woman.¡± ¡°What¡¯s this got to do with Marie?¡± Mama asked. ¡°Why did they stop her on the street?¡± ¡°They wanted to know why she was going to the Stags.¡± ¡°I was with Poe!¡± Marie retorted. ¡°They did not say anything about Poe.¡± Then Marie realized. Of course they didn¡¯t. Poe wandered through the world in near complete anonymity. Even if they had seen him, if they didn¡¯t write it down right away, they would forget. ¡°Everything is tense right now with the Stags. There¡¯s rumors of an alliance with the Pack.¡± Madame continued. ¡°Lord Morrow didn¡¯t get where he is by ignoring his enemies. Enforcers like Kett are being told to get answers and root out traitors. And ¡­ they want glamour to hide themselves from the Stag¡¯s agents.¡± ¡°Glamours from me?¡± Marie asked skeptically. ¡°Your name came up; so did Poe.¡± Madame replied. Her eye was fully swollen shut now, and it must have been very painful, but Madame¡¯s tone was still mild. ¡°What about Millie?¡± Mama asked. ¡°She can¡¯t or won¡¯t.¡± Madame replied. ¡°She¡¯s still hurting.¡± Marie tried to decide what she would say to that. Poe had told her she wasn¡¯t ready for glamours; was there some thing she could do to convince him to do it instead? Argue that it would protect her? Marie then had another thought. ¡°Are they going to come after Dinky?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that.¡± Dinky rumbled. ¡°I¡¯m being told not to worry about a lot of things that seem like I should be worrying about! Why shouldn¡¯t I worry?¡± Marie retorted. ¡°Dinky, don''t you dare say another word. It¡¯s part of my deal.¡± Mama said. ¡°Lord Morrow will honor it.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t sound like that to me!¡± ¡°He will.¡± Dinky replied, with Madame and Mama nodding along. Marie bristled. In the silence, Madame leaned back in her plush chair. ¡°Probably best if I stay out of sight today.¡± Madame said. ¡°Stella, mind the parlor if you would, and turn your cleaning team over to your second.¡± Madame finally turned her good eye back onto to Marie. ¡°Marie, we brought you up here, and kept you from the worst of this place. I am glad you aren¡¯t living here any more.¡± The woman tried to smile, but flinched painfully instead. ¡°This place was no place for a child, but especially no place for a young woman. But. We need someone to do glamours. If you can¡¯t do it, or Poe can¡¯t, maybe you can find someone. I¡¯ll pay what the Morrows won¡¯t if need be. Or, maybe you can ask Millie when she¡¯ll feel up to it. She may not owe the Morrows anything, but she owes me.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Marie replied. ¡°You can¡¯t make her do this.¡± Mama said. ¡°There¡¯s no debt between her and the Morrows.¡± ¡°I suppose teaching her to read and write has no value?¡± Madame scoffed. ¡°But, I¡¯m not asking for her to pay a debt or anything like that anyway. I just don¡¯t know who we can entice to come do glamour work here. Millie was cheap, and pretty good at glamour. Lord Morrow¡¯s shortsightedness means we¡¯ll have to pay, but if its Marie that does the work, I have no trouble giving her the gold.¡± Marie wiped the frustration from her eyes. She was getting over her fear, but underneath she felt angry. She knew the the Morrows were dangerous. They wandered through the streets, always hungry for a fight, or sex, or easy money. ¡®I am going to be ¡­¡¯ She started to think, then she corrected herself. ¡®I am a sorcerer now. I am weak. But. One day, I will be like sky kraken: powerful and untouchable. I won¡¯t be manipulated. I can handle this.¡¯ ¡°I don¡¯t know how.¡± ¡°Talk to Poe. Please. Your Mama and you have both said he lives in the dilapidated building over in the Stag¡¯s territory. We¡¯ll pay double his fees. At least until things settle down with the Morrows and Stags.¡± Madame said. ¡°He ¡­ he won¡¯t do it.¡± Marie replied. ¡°You¡¯ll have to find someone else.¡± ¡°Ask?¡± ¡°Fine.¡± They finished their conversation, but when Marie left the office, she didn¡¯t stay to talk to her Mama. If she¡¯d stayed, Marie knew that she¡¯d ask about her father. And not once had that conversation ever gone well. Chapter 17: Listening for magic Month 12, Day 5, 10:00 AM Marie When Marie returned to the office, she found Poe at his desk leafing through a book. ¡°Ah! Marie. I¡¯ve a book here on the light spectrum that I¡¯d like you to read. You might find that it will help you with the light spell.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Marie replied. Poe cocked his head, and took her in. ¡°You seem down. I guess that you were out to visit your Mama? But perhaps, you were visiting someone else?¡± ¡°No. I went to see Mama.¡± Marie wanted to talk to Poe about it. But, what was she supposed to do? ¡°Is she well?¡± ¡°She¡¯s ¡­ fine,¡± ¡°But, someone else is not. Your friend? The Parlor?¡± ¡°There is trouble.¡± ¡°Shall I interrogate you, or will you provide this information willingly.¡± Poe replied in a flat voice. His lips, however, lifted at the corners into a smile. ¡°It¡¯s ¡­ the parlor needs someone to do glamours.¡± ¡°To attract more customers?¡± Frank shrugged. ¡°Just dim the lights.¡± ¡°No. Other people come for glamours, and they want to know ¡­ can you do it?¡± Poe¡¯s smile faded. ¡°No.¡± ¡°Maybe, we could find someone else for them?¡± Poe leaned back in his chair, eyes wandering over the bookshelves. Marie did not interrupt his silence. After a few moments he replied. ¡°That might help us contact the Raven Queen; after all, a simple way to hide would be for her to use glamour. Wouldn¡¯t it be ironic if she happened to just be selling that service somewhere? I should do a scrying and see if this is coincidence.¡± ¡°How would we find out if she was?¡± Marie thought about how scrying the Raven Queen had gone so badly at the Cappers¡¯. ¡°Aside from scrying.¡± ¡°Not all sorcerers are as law-abiding as me.¡± Poe leaned forward and said with half a grin. ¡°And, there happens to be a group of them that we can go to for the parlor¡¯s question. But they won¡¯t be meeting for a while; at least a week or more.¡± Mare was disappointed, she needed a substitute now. ¡°I think they need someone sooner.¡± ¡°Who, exactly, is they?¡± ¡°Uh. The Morrows.¡± Frank wasn¡¯t the type to frown, but the corners of his mouth flicked down. ¡°Why?¡± Marie then explained her encounter with Kett Blue Eyes, and what Madame needed so the Morrows could hide their illicit activities. When she finished her story, Poe¡¯s expression was flat and hard. ¡°I won¡¯t be doing glamour for the Hands, Hearts, and Palms. Nor will you, unless you want to lose your apprenticeship with me. If Madame wants to hire me to find a glamourist, then I¡¯ll take that investigation to Frigg for approval.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t you ¡­¡± Marie stopped her question when she saw Poe¡¯s expression. ¡°The August Agency does investigations. We find people, observe others, and find answers. We do not take on commissions to provide magic.¡± Poe shrugged. ¡°If I use some magic here and there to help an investigation, that¡¯s fine. But, I¡¯m not doing magic on commission. Least of all, for a gang of thugs that threatens my apprentice.¡± Marie had never seen Poe furious, but as he finished, Marie felt his will spill out into the room, just a bit. Birds noisily took flight outside. Poe took a deep breath and the air calmed. ¡°Violence never solved a problem without making more.¡± Poe recited. But, he eventually continued more mildly. ¡°On the other hand, every respectable sorcerer in the University takes the battle magic course. And I am vaguely aware of what the Morrows do to those that abstain from paying their tribute or meeting their demands. I¡¯ll have to deal with this, although we probably have time.¡± ¡°So, what do we do?¡± ¡°Protective charms are only going to take us so far. And, it would be unrealistic to have you stop visiting your Mama Stella. What we can do is give you a chance to know who to avoid.¡± Stolen story; please report. ¡°How?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a divination that should give you a warning when someone dangerous is nearby. It¡¯s also an esoteric spell my mother taught me.¡± Poe began rummaging through desk drawers, until he pulled out an earring; it was a continuous circle made of jade, and had a bit of gold hardware that would let the jade be attached to the ear. ¡°Observe carefully.¡± Poe said. He held the earring out by the gold clasp, then began a chant. Eyes are a liar; sound ne¡¯er does. Bells come like a choir and ring where magic does. Enemies in their tow¡¯er Hid where their magic was. Bells come consume and conspire and into this ring, sing where an enemies¡¯ magic does. Bells come like a choir and ring where magic does. The sound of distant carriages and people on the street faded. Poe¡¯s office had plenty of books to absorb the sound around them, but even those sounds one might normally notice faded. Poe¡¯s office fell to the whisper quiet of a library. Poe carefully handed the little earring to Marie. He gestured for her to hold it up to her ear. When she held it, the sounds from the street and room nearly fade entirely, but as she put it closer to her ear, she could hear a faint chiming noise. ¡°What is it?¡± Her voice sounded like the space around her was stuffed with cotton. ¡°The sound you hear is the sound of the active magic and enchantments around you. Move around.¡± Marie walked around the room. The chiming notes coming from the earring became almost uncomfortably loud as she walked close to Poe¡¯s coat stand. She pulled it away from her ear, and the sound faded considerably. The loud chimes would be the koi coat, she guessed. But other parts of the room also had active magic. For instance, all the bookshelves also chimed, although at a different pitch than the coat. And, when Marie approached Poe¡¯s component chest, the magic set out a musical harmony of different pitches. ¡°Do I have to use this earring?¡± Marie eventually asked. ¡°No, you can apply to any metal or stone circle you can move; a bolt¡¯s washer would do. The spell converts the sound vibration in the air into a different sound that you hear instead; most everyone else just hears the unnatural quiet. With all the enchantments here in my office, it¡¯s probably noisy here; let¡¯s walk upstairs, and see what magic you can hear.¡± As they walked through the doorway Marie heard chimes at the door, and if she moved the earring, she noticed that the chiming was above her. Looking up, she realized that above the door¡¯s lintel several small and delicate looking enchantments had been set in silvery metal. She led Frank up the stairs. Even at a distance she could still hear the peculiar chiming of the coat, but the sound of the chimes above the door and bookshelves began to fade, but more chimes became apparent as she moved to the second floor. Poe¡¯s room full of couches made an overlapping chord of chimes and ringing bells. She didn¡¯t bother entering it, and she climbed up to her room. As she did, even more of the sounds faded. The coat¡¯s sound finally began fading, as did the sounds from the couches, but now she realized that there was some chiming in her room, and from Poe himself. As they moved farther from the coat, what she had thought came as art of part of the pure chord from the coat had elements of a sound from Poe. Part of the sound was a drone. But, under that sound Poe sounded like a bass note, inflexible but reverberating. ¡°Poe.¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Why are you making a sound?¡± He smiled. ¡°This sound?¡± And he drew a battle wand from his pocket. ¡°Don¡¯t press the button, and keep it pointed away from us. Hold it close to the earring.¡± Marie did as instructed, and the sound from the wand became apparent; a peculiar crackling sound, like a fire. ¡°Do all battle wands sound like this?¡± ¡°To an extent. Most will be louder than that one; it only has one charge of a gust spell in it.¡± She listened carefully. The crackling sound felt like gritted teeth. The bass note was missing; Poe apparently still made his own sound. ¡°So, if I hear this ¡­?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll be close to someone dangerous.¡± Frank nodded to the earring. ¡°What do you think of this spell?¡± ¡°It¡¯s fun to listen to. Does it make me more quiet?¡± ¡°It makes everything quiet, but it will make you almost silent, because the little earring is the center of the spell. A good way to keep yourself unnoticed, although that is not the point of it.¡± Poe still sounded like he was speaking through cotton. ¡°It also hides the approach of others, and people will, somewhat obviously, notice if it is active.¡± Marie handed the wand back to Poe. She entered her room and heard soft bells in the direction of the pile of junk as well, but suddenly the ringing stopped. ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°I released the spell, because I¡¯m going to teach it to you, so that you can hear when someone with battle wands and enchantments approaches you.¡± Marie wasn¡¯t entirely sure how useful this would be. Of course, it would identify enchantments that were close, but the coat, for example, practically drowned out all the other sounds of spells. Marie realized that was why she¡¯d never seen Poe wear the earring or use it. ¡°The coat is loud, isn¡¯t it? Really loud?¡± Marie asked. ¡°Yes, the coat is too loud for this spell to be that useful to me. That¡¯s why I¡¯m going to give you this earring. Do you want me to put it on your ear?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have a piercing.¡± ¡°This is a pinch type. If someone grabs it, we want it to pull off without hurting you.¡± ¡°Ok.¡± Poe leaned down and carefully clipped it on Marie¡¯s ear. It did pinch a little, but it was almost unnoticeable after a little while. ¡°Now.¡± Poe said. ¡°Let¡¯s teach you this spell, so you can find the magical trinkets left in your room.¡± Poe taught the spell to her, then, after what Marie considered an abnormally large lunch of rice, fish, steamed greens, roasted and salted seaweed, pickled vegetables, and tea, Poe supervised Marie¡¯s search of her apartment for assorted magical junk. It was almost enough to make her forget why she needed the spell. Marie eventually grew tired, and quit casting. When they finished training, Poe gave her permission to cast the spell for brief periods to listen for dangerous enchantments when they were separated. ¡°You should be able to hear a battle wand from a block or two away if you listen carefully. Try not to carelessly walk into an ambush?¡± Poe lectured. ¡°I won¡¯t. And, um.¡± ¡°If the Madame wants us to find a replacement, we will consider it.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll go to tomorrow?¡± ¡°Yes. I¡¯ll come with you.¡± ¡°Good.¡± Marie beamed at him. Chapter 18: Commission to Find Glamour Month 12, Day 6, 6:00 AM Frank Poe Frank knew that¡ªsomewhere in the haze of his normal mornings¡ªMarie would get up, wash, dress, then apply her various black makeups, and then leave early to see Stella. He knew that this meant that Marie had committed to the sort of morning routine that would impress roosters and songbirds. Experiencing it, however, was not the same as knowing it. Bleary-eye and attempting to brew tea, Frank heard a sharp knock on his apartment door when the sky was still blue-grey with dawn. There was only one person that would have access to his rooms at six in the morning, so it didn¡¯t take a diviner to know who knocked. Poe closed his eyes in dismay; he hadn¡¯t even changed into a proper suit of clothing yet; he was still in his pajamas. Frank stumbled through the couches and yanked open the door. Luckily the one blocking the doorway had finally moved on, but the revised path reached unfathomable depths of shin-injuring complexity. His neat, black-haired, and cheerful apprentice greeted him. ¡°Good morning Master Poe! Ready to ¡­ go?¡± Marie¡¯s smile faded as she took in Poe¡¯s clothes and bleary eyes. ¡°I will just need to ¡­¡± ¡°Drink tea, have a wash, change clothes, and otherwise get ready.¡± ¡°Something like that.¡± ¡°Hmm.¡± Marie ticked her head to the side. ¡°I suppose that it won¡¯t be too bad if we¡¯re a little late. Mama goes to bed at around eight.¡± Marie smiled with, somehow, extra positivity. ¡°I am sure she¡¯ll wait until then before she sends Dinky to come here and break all your bones.¡± Frank tried not to look horrified. The last thing he needed was that thug pounding on his door. And, if Maire was correct about Dinky¡¯s ability with a battle wand, Poe wouldn¡¯t want to fight him either, journeyman thaumaturge or not. ¡°Just one moment.¡± Poe shut his door, and looked at his ordinary little cookstove. The little kettle on the hob would be entirely too slow to boil water. So, drawing a quick array on the stovetop with chalk, he resorted to magic to get the tea started, then he changed in record time into a suit decorated with purple flowers and and yellow-gold accents, then drank the hot tea, and finished by splashing water on his face. Perhaps they could visit a proper bath that evening. Poe rushed through his morning routine, and, less that fifteen minutes later, he was headed down the stairs to the office to grab his coat and the glasses he used to hide his eyes. Marie met him at her black table, where she was already reading his recommend book on light. Marie carefully rested the book on the table as they left. They began the walk to the Hands, Hearts and Palms. ¡°Poe. Do you think you can manipulate darkness like you can light?¡± ¡°Of course. I¡¯ve cast spells that imitate darkness as well as light.¡± ¡°But the book just says that darkness is just the absence of light.¡± ¡°Absence of visible light. But yes, that¡¯s essentially correct.¡± ¡°So, how would you make a darkness spell?¡± ¡°Well, because light is energy, I can transmute the light into darkness. Or, you can transmogrify darkness; you can take the association of one thing with the dark, like say a moth, and make an area dark. Lampblack powder, or a night-blooming flower, or black pearls, can be drawn upon to give you a controllable darkness.¡± ¡°So, how does the earring spell work?¡± ¡°It takes sound energy and transmogrifies it into a sound that you can hear. If there isn¡¯t any sound, then the spell would fail. That¡¯s not really a problem; you can hum to yourself if it is too quiet. Detecting magic through sound is very old; in the tale of the the vagabond princess and her brother, the princess supposedly heard the magic in the cursed potions her evil stepmother had hoped to use to transmogrify the boy into a roe deer.¡± Marie gave Frank a side-eye. ¡°That¡¯s a story. That¡¯s not real.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Frank replied easily. Marie huffed at him. ¡°There have always been fewer sorcerers in the world than people. And people, well, they¡¯d rather have a convenient lie than a difficult to understand truth, wouldn¡¯t they?¡± Marie nodded. ¡°For now, why don¡¯t we improve your mastery of spells you know, rather than branching off into darkness?¡± ¡°Alright.¡± Frank was surprised at how many people were on the street so early in the morning. ¡®Doesn¡¯t anyone sleep?¡¯ Frank thought. That Morrows had confronted Marie with so many witnesses around just suggested a level of brazen illegality that Frank found depressing. In a world where the truth of any statement could be determined with a spell, one would think that crime would be more difficult to get away with. If anything, the Raven Queen was just the most high profile example of how corruption, indifferent leadership, and failed investigative techniques allowed even the most high profile law breakers went free in the city. Then again, the Night Market was the best source of difficult to source components it the world. Frank knew that the Crown¡¯s legal flexibility made for a more liberal world, at least for thaumaturges. Frank drew his pipe from his pocket. Despite having a battle wand, Frank did not keep it with him. He was a sorcerer, not some thug. He would not use a battle wand as a crutch. Aside from its protective enchantments, Frank had several tiny spell arrays built into the pipe; notably one etched into the bowl. One might feel that carrying a wand openly was a threat, but a pipe would go unnoticed. Frank pulled out his particular kinninnick blend that produced a thick white smoke. This blend had bark from several magical bushes, including radiant paperbark trees, and he¡¯d infused them with a ritual. He hadn¡¯t even tried it since the accident. He lit it with his little fire lighting stick, and swirled some of the smoke into his mouth, and out in a perfect smoke ring. The familiar warmth from the smoke¡¯s inherent magical properties caused and involuntary smile. The healing smoke relieved his tiredness and fatigue. He reckoned his will strain was completely gone now. . ¡°That smells different.¡± Marie observed. ¡°Do you smoke ¡­ some kind a potion?¡± ¡°In a way, it is. As sorcerers we must avoid potions and drugs that effect the mind. You understand why?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve heard about this, corrupted will?¡± ¡°If you can¡¯t think clearly, you can¡¯t cast magic with certainty and skill. Addiction, dependence, these things interfere. So. I have specific blends of magic kinninnick to make smoke that has magical effects; mostly healing.¡± ¡°You did not smoke before?¡± ¡°No. I¡¯d ¡­ stopped using my pipe, but it is my most flexible tool.¡± ¡°Will you teach me?¡± ¡°Not likely! I¡¯ll teach you normal potion magic.¡± ¡°But if I was a boy it would be ok?¡± ¡°Gah! No! It¡¯s not a good habit at all.¡± ¡°So, do as you say, but not as you do?¡± Frank rubbed the tense spot between his eyes. ¡°Perhaps you should apprentice to a lawyer instead of a sorcerer.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be like that.¡± ¡°Never mind. Just, for now, know that I use the pipe and its smoke for magic, not any sort of mind altering effects, understand?¡± ¡°Alright.¡± Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Frank¡¯s exasperation nearly had him forgetting why he was coming with Marie at this godawful hour. But, as they approached the street with the parlor, he began to notice the red marks in buildings that showed they had returned to Morrow¡¯s territory. Frank paused walking for a moment, and cast a small revealing magic using the spell array in his glasses that would help him visually detect any hostile magic. Anything interesting would blaze with a spectrum that would help him identify if any of the five elements were in an active spell array. When he¡¯d first made the glasses as a student, he did not mean for them to identify hostile magic, but they could. As they had approached the parlor, nothing stood out, and no one seemed to be hanging about with a battle wand waiting to ambush Marie. When they entered, the bouncer registered as armed with some sort of battle wand, but it wasn¡¯t Dinky. Frank reckoned this was fine; it was one of the bouncers that Frank had met before. And, as usual, the bouncer greeted Marie with warmth, and they treated the strange, brightly dressed Frank with a suspicion. Frank let his detection spell fade. He¡¯s hardly need it to have a conversation with Mama Stella; after all, the door was guarded. Marie and Frank were lead back to Mama, who, instead of her usual place in the laundry, was working in the main office. She gave Marie a long hug. ¡°Mama, what happened?¡± Marie asked. ¡°Did they come back?¡± ¡°No.¡± Stella replied. ¡°They sent a runner to ask if we¡¯d had a substitute, but no one came.¡± ¡°Good.¡± Marie said. She turned to Frank. ¡°You don¡¯t need to stay. They likely won¡¯t be back, and I want to go visit Millie.¡± Frank felt his eyebrows involuntarily raise. ¡°You don¡¯t think they¡¯d attack you at Millie¡¯s?¡± He asked. ¡°Oh no. She¡¯s not ¡­ worth anything to them.¡± Marie explained. ¡°Morrows don¡¯t bother with useless, or that don¡¯t have any money. Unless they are owed money, and Millie wasn¡¯t like that with them.¡± Stella nodded. ¡°Its not far to Millie¡¯s. Kett and his men made their point. They¡¯ll wait a few days before they come back. I don¡¯t know if my girl told you, but you should go talk to Madame.¡± Frank found himself clenching his jaw. He didn¡¯t want to talk to the proprietor. She was pressuring Marie, and in his opinion, she was more dangerous than any ordinary thug. She could twitch a finger, and Marie would be back here out of sense of obligation or duty or whatever it was that motivated teenage girls to do anything. However, there wasn¡¯t any point in resisting a meeting. Frank needed to know how bad this situation really was. He nodded to Marie and Stella, and was directed to a suite. Frank was involuntarily blushing when he knocked on her door. ¡®It¡¯s just a woman.¡¯ Frank thought. ¡®You¡¯ve talked to women before it it turned out fine.¡¯ Then he reminded himself of all those instances where it had not worked out fine. Madame called for him to enter. It was, indeed, a suite of rooms; with a foyer, washroom, and bedroom. Madame met him in the bedroom. There was a huge bed that seemed it could fit three people, surrounded in red and black drapes, a settee that would have been at home in opulence and style in Frank¡¯s own room full of couches, and a beautiful screen of cleverly fitted wooden pieces to make a pattern of stars. At a small writing desk to one side, Madame sat and greeted Frank. ¡°Master Poe. How nice of you to join us. I would get up, but I find that my illness keeps me from standing without pain.¡± ¡®The sort of illness that left your face bruised and your ribs cracked.¡¯ Poe thought grimly. Poe knew what to expect, but Madame was worse off than he expected, especially since he knew she should be able to afford healing potions and salves. Her face was mottled with purple bruises, and was propped in a chair with pillows. ¡°It occurs to me, Madame, that you need the attention of a healer.¡± ¡°Oh, you know how it is,¡± Madame replied, ¡°who can find the time?¡± Frank took that to mean that when the Morrows punished, they did not appreciate a quick healing. Healing would be evidence of defiance, and defiance would be punished twofold. ¡®Still¡¯ Frank thought, ¡®I can¡¯t leave it at this.¡¯ He continued this thinking aloud. ¡°My dear woman, if you expect me to have a rational conversation with you, I am not going to see you continue to suffer.¡± Frank slowly withdrew a flask of a mild healing potion. It wasn¡¯t the sort of thing that would return you to health if you were bleeding or unconscious, but it would ease any pain and speed natural healing somewhat. He walked to her desk and deposited the flask in front of her. ¡°At least take a sip.¡± Madame took the flask, and had a reluctant sip. Then a second. She handed it back. ¡°Thank you. As much as I appreciate this favor, I hoped we could negotiate a business arrangement.¡± ¡°Fine. What do you want from the August agency?¡± ¡°Glamours.¡± ¡°No.¡± Frank paused. ¡°Do you have some investigative service you want us to perform?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be so quick! Sorcerers don¡¯t have any trouble making money, but I¡¯m sure a person like yourself craves ¡­ connection. Regular service here might do you some good.¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°I am sure we have some common ground on which we could negotiate. Perhaps ¡­¡± ¡°Before you offer some compromise that would be even more manipulative, I will be plain. I am not doing magic on demand for you or anyone else. The August Agency will consider a commission to find you a replacement glamourist. Are you interested in working with me, or are you going to attempt to hold Marie¡¯s relationship to this place over my head?¡± Madame sighed. ¡°I need quick results.¡± ¡°Do you even want my expertise? You pay me my retainer, and I will consult my oracle. My oracle approves, and only then, will I pursue a glamourist for you. Results will take time. Unless you want a legal sorcerer?¡± Madame smirked. ¡°If I needed someone legal, I wouldn¡¯t need to hire someone like you. What if your oracle refuses?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll keep the retainer, and you find your own way to disguise the Morrows.¡± ¡°You would take advantage of an injured woman.¡± Madame pouted. But, her bruises had faded from the healing potion Frank had given her. She probably wasn¡¯t even in any pain. This was a delicate situation. If he could get a read on her emotions ¡­ Frank reflexively drew smoke from his smoldering pipe and made a smoke ring. He nearly had a word ready, but he decided it would do no good. Divination could be a crutch; better to be prepared for the unexpected than to try to never be surprised. He let the smoke fade. A magical reading would not tell him anything he did not already know, and he hadn¡¯t practiced free casting since the accident. No matter how simple, the divination was not worth the risk. ¡°I think you are smarter than that.¡± Frank said. ¡°Now, if you would, let¡¯s write out our agreement.¡± And they did. Madame may have been hurt, but she was more than willing to write out out a simple agreement for the August Agency to find someone to do glamour for the Hands, Hearts, and Palms. Poe made his own copy of the commission to find glamour. Madame offered, again, to give payment ¡°in kind.¡± Frank was certain that he blushed furiously, but he refused as confidently as possible. ¡®Surely Madame knows that I know a trap when I hear it?¡¯ He thought. Any regular trips to the parlor would inevitably lead to Frank being a Morrows¡¯ target. They wouldn¡¯t let an investigator visit their businesses without trying for leverage. People might forget meeting him, but the bookkeeping would have records of his visits. It was fine¡ªor seemed fine¡ªfor Marie¡¯s visits. After Frank worked out an agreement, which Madame rewrote, to her own personal preferences, Frank returned to the office and Marie. ¡°Done?¡± Mama asked as Frank returned. Marie sat in a chair across the desk, reviewing an account book. ¡°Yes. I need to return to the office and consult the Raven. Marie, will you be returning with me?¡± ¡°Mama asked me to look at the numbers from the last few days; I also want to talk to Madame, and visit Millie.¡± ¡°Are you sure it will be safe?¡± ¡°Yes, Poe.¡± Marie rolled her eyes. ¡°I can take care of myself.¡± ¡°You can cast the detection spell, but not for long, right?¡± ¡°Ok.¡± ¡­ Frank returned to the office. On the walk back, his pipe went out. He¡¯d left the kinninnick mostly unsmoked. He had paused and looked at a poster of the Raven Queen: ¡°Alias: The Raven Queen. Dangerous practitioner of Forbidden Magics. Flee on sight. Report any information to law enforcement. Reward for information leading to arrest: Five hundred gold crowns.¡± What was he doing to achieve that reward? He needed to find the connections to her. Where would she even hide? With the Stags? Or, would she hide in a place no one would ever expect? He dropped his pipe off at his desk, and trudged up to the roof. He sat and considered the situation as he waited for Frigg to arrive. He breathed deeply, letting his will spread out and touch the living things around him. A curious crow was still awake, and it watched him from a neighboring roof, without approaching. There was a house owl that wanted to take up residence in the rafters of an attic a few houses over. Frigg wouldn¡¯t like that; owls were the mortal enemies of ravens. Frank let his mind wander. This situation was almost too straight. The Morrows wanted glamours. He just needed to find someone to produce them. Sorcerers and witches who lived on the edges abounded who could probably do that work. But it wasn¡¯t Madame who pressured Marie first; it was Kett. ¡®Why had Kett been so eager to pressure Marie?¡¯ Frank wondered. He needed to find an offering. Frank rummaged through his coat till he found a piece of a glass mirror the length of a finger, and about twice as wide. He dropped it in the bowl. The metal bowl rang with a pale brittle sound, and the sharp edged glass reflected the morning¡¯s clouds. Mirrors created an illusion all their own. The day began to warm. Dark wings descended; Frigg finally appeared. She flew over to Frank and alighted lightly in front of him. She preened her feathers. She looked at the offered mirror, but did not grasp it with he beak or talon. ¡°Frigg. I apologize for the moth.¡± ¡°Kraa.¡± Frigg replied with reproach. ¡®Madame at the Hands, Hearts, and Palms wants me to find someone to create glamour for the Morrows.¡± Frigg fluffed her feathers. Frank had a sense that she had a question. ¡°No. I don¡¯t know her real name.¡± Frank said. ¡°Kraa.¡± The Raven said. She hopped around the bowl for a moment. Finally, the raven took the piece in her beak and snapped it in half. She brought half to him, and dropped it at his feet, then she picked up the larger piece left in the bowl and flew off. ¡®Compromise.¡¯ Frank thought. ¡®I need to find a compromise with Madame.¡¯ He needed to simultaneously find a way to supply glamour and find Madame a sorcerer. ¡®Or, that might be wrong; maybe a way to glamour myself?¡¯ He returned to his office and cleaned his pipe. Marie would be back soon. He had time. In his office, surrounded by the books, with the spines facing the shelves, he planned a different type of divination. When he¡¯d bought the August Agency, this room inspired him to create the magic he¡¯d use for his cases. He swept the papers from his desk and revealed the circle inset on its surface. With a brush in hand, he began to write the glyphs. Chapter 19: Millie Parker’s Folly Month 12, Day 6, 11:00 AM Marie Before Marie finally looked up from her work several hours after Poe left the parlor, she had looked over the bookings and log books, and compared it to money they¡¯d received. ¡°The numbers are close. But you have Morrows who didn¡¯t pay. It would have to go on their tab.¡± ¡°Where?¡± Mama asked. Marie pointed to the entries. ¡°I¡¯ll check them again.¡± Mama said. ¡°Its not just the discount or a voucher?¡± ¡°No. You can check with the masseurs, of course. They could have skimmed it, but I don¡¯t think they¡¯d have done that.¡± ¡°Thank you for reviewing. I¡¯ll check it.¡± ¡°Mama. I love you.¡± ¡°I love you too, my little Marie.¡± ¡°I ¡­ you could come live with Poe and me.¡± ¡°Why are you suggesting that now?¡± ¡°Because, you don¡¯t have to live here. They beat Madame and I worry that they¡¯ll come after you too.¡± ¡°They won¡¯t. It will be fine. This isn¡¯t the best place, but there are worse . You are getting an learnin¡¯, you got money. You have a good future. Don¡¯t waste it.¡± Mama replied. ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± Marie whined. ¡°It¡¯s just that ¡­ why don¡¯t you take Poe up on his offer to live with us at the Agency? It¡¯s safer.¡± ¡°No, it isn¡¯t. There¡¯s nothing safe goin¡¯ against Lord Morrow. Or thems thinkin¡¯ that you¡¯re defyin¡¯ Lord Morrow.¡± ¡°But, Mama ¡­¡± ¡°No more fussin¡¯; I¡¯ve got books to balance. If you want to visit Madame, you should do that afore she goes to sleep.¡± On the way from the office to Madame¡¯s suite, Marie schemed to get Mama to live with her. If the Morrows could be appeased? Or, if Marie bought them off somehow? Marie entered the suite and found Madame propped on pillows in the bed, reading a few pages of paper. ¡°Madame, how are you doing?¡± ¡°Fine my girl. You know I have no memory meeting with Poe? Not one?¡± ¡°I know.¡± ¡°Yet, I hold here in my hand a contract¡ªwritten in my own handwriting¡ªthat is proof that he and I entered into a contract.¡± ¡®Yes.¡¯ Marie thought. ¡®That¡¯s the way the curse works.¡¯ Then aloud, ¡°That¡¯s why I have to help him at the August Agency.¡± ¡°Do you know why you are immune?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°It might have something to do with that tattoo on your chest.¡± ¡°Maybe.¡± ¡°Have you ever told him about it?¡± ¡°No.¡± Madame nodded. ¡°He¡¯s agreed to have the August Agency find a glamourist for us.¡± ¡°Good.¡± ¡°You could do that though. Perhaps you could convince Millie?¡± Marie felt this was doubtful. But, Millie was more than a prostitute. If she could just focus on her magic, maybe she could find enough work that she could get further treatment. It was really in her best interest, right? And, Madame helped her, so she should help Madame in return. ¡°I¡¯ll ask her. I was going to visit her today anyway.¡± ¡°Good. While you¡¯re there, check on Dinky. I sent him to talk to her after his shift. Maybe he¡¯s already talked her around. He always cares more than he should, but he¡¯s been gone for hours.¡± Marie didn¡¯t normally think of Dinky as very persuasive, but he wouldn¡¯t have threatened Millie. If Madame thought he could convince Millie, maybe this whole situation would be entirely cleared up. ¡­ Warming sunlight lit the streets to Millie¡¯s townhouse. On the way, she practiced the esoteric magic she¡¯d learned from Poe. As she walked past shops and homes, she heard the faint chimes of the magic people used. It made a faint and beautiful and dissonant music in her ears as the different magics pitched with tines from dozens of different effects. Marie heard plenty of this music as a child. Musicians performed up and down the pleasure districts; bars and pubs often had a singer or fiddler to keep the patrons dancing and entertained while they drank. That music had the rhythmic quality that encouraged movement. That music did not compare. The magic from the earring was a thrumming music one imagined from the slow wheeling of the sky. Of course, Marie did try to keep the people on the street from noticing her bubble of silence. As she drew further from the shops and avenues, closer to Millie¡¯s neighborhood, few people seemingly carried detectable active enchantment or magic with them. And, even though people would have more reason to carry battle wands, Marie didn¡¯t encounter them. Millie¡¯s lived in a home on a quiet street; not entirely run down, but with a faded elegance. People lived several families to a house here. On her street, Millie was one of the few that lived by herself. Outside, children played unsupervised in the street. Chasing and shouting. Millie couldn¡¯t hear their squeals quite as loudly while under the effect of the spell. But, as she approached Millie¡¯s home, she heard perhaps the most beautiful music she¡¯d heard so far. It drew her even from down the street. Marie felt a sort of awe. She cut the spell off, as it was beginning to strain her. But, in its absence, Marie felt a desire to hear it again. ¡®What was that?¡¯ Marie thought. She stopped mid stride. The children didn¡¯t seem affected. ¡®Is that Millie¡¯s glamour magic?¡¯ Marie had never felt anything like it. Certainly, Millie never seemed to use a spell with an attraction that strong. But, with the detection magic released, Marie¡¯s heart began to settle. She didn¡¯t even realize that she¡¯d felt so strongly hearing it. Still. This wasn¡¯t the brittle sound of a battle wand; so, visiting Mille should still be safe. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Cautiously, Marie continued toward Millie¡¯s townhouse. The house was squeezed, much like the August Agency, between the other homes on the street. A short flight of stairs lead to a small covered porch and the entrance to the first floor. Millie¡¯s house had glass windows with wooden storm shutters. Someone had closed them all. Marie couldn¡¯t recall ever seeing them closed before, and it certainly wasn¡¯t storming. The bright daylight streamed down and puffy white clouds slid through the afternoon sky. Marie climbed the steps carefully. She felt watched, but¡ªas she looked for danger¡ªnothing evidently dangerous was nearby, just loudly playing children. She knocked on the door, and it swung open. Someone had left it unlocked, unbarred, and unlatched. The dim interior seemed quiet; but just like you could tell if a house had the ineffable quality of being truly empty, this house was not. Marie heard the sound of people moving on the second floor. ¡°Millie?¡± Marie called. ¡°Dinky?¡± Silence. Slightly worried, Marie reviewed what she knew of the house. She¡¯d visited more than once before. The ground floor had a sitting room, kitchen, and dining room. In front of her was a staircase leading upward. The second floor had two rooms, and water closet. Millie slept and did her magic on that floor. Marie reasoned that she also would entertain her ¡°clients¡± there as well. Marie walked cautiously forward, straining to hear any sounds. She glanced in the sitting room, and saw that it was empty. Furnished well, it had glasses, bottles of spirits and thickly upholstered furniture. Although, she could see a broken chair, and possibly the place Millie had been attacked. Some effort had gone into cleaning it, but even in the gloom, Marie could still spot the stains on the rug where someone had bled. Marie shuddered. ¡°Millie?¡± Marie called again. She heard a thump upstairs. ¡°Little Marie?¡± Dinky called from upstairs. ¡°Dinky?¡± Marie called back. ¡°Come see. She¡¯s beautiful.¡± ¡°What?¡± Marie said reflexively. ¡®Who is beautiful?¡¯ she thought. ¡®Surely not Millie; she should still be recovering.¡¯ ¡°Come see.¡± Dinky repeated, his voice distant and soft. Marie looked to the top of the stairs; Dinky seemed to be calling from the bedroom, but Marie couldn¡¯t see the doorway from the bottom of the stairs. There were too many footsteps to be just the two of them. Did Millie have other guests too? Marie decided she was being silly. Maybe Millie had merely refined a new glamour. Millie was a kind person; she wouldn¡¯t do anything to hurt anyone. Marie had come to visit her friend, and so she would. Marie climbed the stairs a bit quicker than she intended, and found herself at the bedroom doorway. Inside the bedroom the darkness shrouded the half-dozen figures crowded into the room; all of them stared at the figure seated on the bed. It was too dark to see much detail. Marie reflexively reached for the thaumaturgic-enchanted glass lamp that Millie usually kept on the table by the door. It was missing. As Marie stepped into the room, she felt the crunch of glass under her boots. ¡®Millie is there, isn¡¯t she?¡¯ The people around the bed blocked Marie¡¯s view, and it was so dark. Was Millie glowing; there was the source of light somewhere near the bed, but Marie¡¯s eyes had not adjusted to it. ¡®You can hardly imagine that it would be this dark in the middle of the day.¡¯ Marie thought. ¡®What would it be like to control darkness in darkness?¡¯ To Marie, who had grown up with her waking hours spent in the night at Hands Hearts and Palms, mere darkness wasn¡¯t particularly frightening. But, she couldn¡¯t see her friend in a dark room, and there wasn¡¯t even a lit lamp. Aside from the glow at the edge of the bed, the shutters failed to fit tightly enough to keep a thin beam of radiance from making a line across the floor. ¡°Millie? Let¡¯s get some light in here.¡± Marie said. Marie strode to the window, past Dinky and the others, then opened it, then popped the storm shutter¡¯s latch, and spread the shutters open to let in the sunlight. Behind her, Millie screeched. Marie whirled around, and saw the nude wreck of Millie¡¯s form crumpled on the bed. ¡°Close it!¡± Millie. A dozen eyes and half a dozen faces turned to light. Marie could see the room more clearly now, and the faces of Millie¡¯s visitors. The room was a wreck; the thaumaturgic glass lamps smashed. The curtains on the bed torn. The formerly blank faces of the admirers twisted and snarled. A woman roughly pushed Millie out of the way, and slammed the storm shutters closed. She aslo drew the heavy curtains. ¡°Don¡¯t you understand!? Her beauty can only be lit by the darkness!¡± The woman cried. Marie could not reckon with that irrational conclusion. ¡®How could anything be lit by darkness?¡¯ Marie thought incredulously, while still reeling from the images of the wrecked room. But, then, in the darkness, then Marie saw it: a transformed female creature of unrelenting fascination. She straightened from her curled and bowed posture and sat with preternatural grace. She glowed with eldritch fire. Just sitting made her the most beautiful thing Marie had ever seen. More beautiful than the moon on a clear night. Magical. Even in the near darkness, Marie could trace the perfect scars across her face and body. Whatever had given her those scars nearly killed her, but even with perfect unblemished skin between each scar, it was the scars that were almost the most beautiful part. In the stillness, the sycophants returned to their admiration. ¡°There, that¡¯s better!¡± The woman said, and returned to the bedside. She shoved her way close, pushing another out of the way. The man barely registered. ¡°You need anything dear?¡± The woman asked the creature. She said nothing. Marie felt the magic all around her. The compulsion. If only the magic had been as simple as a curse. Marie¡¯s heart wanted to worship the fey creature. It was right there, a desire to be close to her. A compulsion to forget everything but the wonder of the nude figure seated there, beckoning all to behold her. Marie¡¯s mind would not. Marie found herself silently crying for her friend. Millie Parker was gone. Throwing off the compulsion to gaze on the beautiful creature, Marie looked for Dinky; she¡¯d seen him on the way in, and he still stood at the foot of the bed. Even outside Marie¡¯s full attention, the magical compulsion still beat at Marie¡¯s resolve. It repeated in waves of pure emotion: Worship. Marie¡¯s mind would not be fooled, but the longer she spent in the creature¡¯s presence, the harder thoughts were. ¡°Dinky.¡± Marie called. ¡°Dinky!¡± He turned briefly to her. But, returned to looking at the beautiful female form. ¡°You should be quiet.¡± He replied. ¡°Don¡¯t upset her.¡± ¡°Dinky! We have to go. We have to go now!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t upset Millie. She doesn¡¯t like it.¡± The figure on the bed barely moved to notice them. She tilted her head and swayed to unheard music. Desperate, Marie reached for Dinky, and tried to grab his hand to drag him to the door. She took a fistful of his shirt and tugged at him. ¡°No Marie.¡± Dinky said. ¡°Dinky. We have to go. We have to let the Red Guard know. She¡¯s an Aberrant Dinky! An Aberrant!¡± Dinky turned on Marie, and now she remembered how big he really was. He towered over her like a building. She stopped pulling at his hand, but he grabbed her by the arm. ¡°You can¡¯t.¡± Dinky said. ¡°Dey¡¯ll take ¡®er from us. Let¡¯s just put you out of t¡¯ way; you¡¯ll change your mind.¡± To Marie¡¯s horror, Dinky pulled her from the room, and forced her downstairs. His arm gripped her painfully, and even kicking Dinky¡¯s shin did nothing. Dinky merely picked her up bodily and hauled her with main force. With her dominant arm bound, she couldn¡¯t reach her knife, and was helpless to stop him. She pounded him with her offhand, and twisted trying to reach her knife. She shouted in frustration and anger; maybe the children outside would hear? Dinky rounded the stairs with Marie and brought her to a cellar door. He put her down, and Marie nearly escaped then, but Dinky grabbed her hair. She screamed again at the sharp pain, and grabbed his hands to keep from falling down. ¡°Dinky, no! Please Dinky.¡± She shouted, but when she finally turned to face him, his expression remained glazed and impassive. He wasn¡¯t even angry. Dinky unlocked the cellar door with the key in the lock and pushed her down onto the stone steps. Maire rolled painfully on her arms protecting her head. She managed to stop halfway down. She was lucky she hadn¡¯t been thrown over the stairs¡¯ edge, which had no bannister. As Dinky closed the door, she threw herself at it, trying to push it open. Her effort made no more difference than a butterfly beating its wings inside a glass jar. Dinky merely pressed the door closed and locked it, then taking the key with him. ¡°I got to go back to ¡®er little Marie. You¡¯ll be safe down there.¡± Dinky¡¯s voice sounded muffled through the door. Marie scrambled with the knob and hammered door with her closed fists as Dinky¡¯s boots thumped away and back up the stairs to the bedroom. Her efforts made no difference. She wasn¡¯t strong enough to break through the heavy wooden door. Looking around the small earthen and stone cellar¡ªlit with sunlight from a tiny barred window and filled with shelves full of dusty jars and bottles¡ªMarie realized she was trapped. There was no way out. Worse, there was no way to warn everyone of the aberrant that Millie Parker had become. Chapter 20: Heptagrams Month 12, Day 6,3:00 PM Frank Poe Frank examined his spell array for errors three times before he decided everything was just where it needed to be. He¡¯d retrieved his heirloom conduit and a large beast core. The core sat in its proper place on his desk. He¡¯d build the elaborate spell array around a heptagram with writing, a 14 glyphs, and all linked to all the shelved books; he took a deep breath. Two and a half hours of preparation. He was ready. Frank clarified his thoughts, held the conduit in his left hand and turned his will to the stikhomanteia. He would not do something so crass and obvious as to try to find the Raven Queen. Instead, he began to try to find a connection between those connections that he¡¯d already seen, and maybe ones he had not. What was the connection that would guide him? Around him the books whispered; this was closer to a meditation and search for spirit than hearing with his ears. He walked directly to a shelf and drew the strongest voice, then placed it in the first numbered and labeled square on the floor. It was an astronomy text. ¡®Yes.¡¯ He thought. ¡®That one fits.¡¯ Slowly, the spell drew his attention to more books; each one, he placed in a labeled square. He paid no attention to the spines. The vocabulary for the augury would be drawn from these picks, and the spell guided him from one to the next till he had seven total. Then he moved to the second part of the spell. What was the Raven Queen¡¯s connection to the world? He tried to draw on the collective power of unconscious connection, and his own tenuous connection to ravens and Siobhan Naught. If he went looking, where would she reveal herself? Imbued with this command, he opened each of the seven books, not bothering to guide the process too much, but letting them fall to the page they preferred. He let the magic continue to guide him and he scanned the open pages and selected the seven words. Luna Shadow Cast Wizard Knowing Stolen Stillness Frank relaxed and let the magic divination dissipate. He¡¯d had clearer guidance than this before. He sighed. Maybe if he¡¯d tried the full sentences version, instead of just calling for words? Unspecified guidance could be like this though. He just wasn¡¯t connected enough yet. Frank figured that the Raven Queen, or someone close to her, would either be impacted by, or would impact some event with the moon and darkness, a spell, a knowledgeable sorcerer, stolen object and stillness, or stolen stillness? How would stillness be stolen? Calming someone who was agitated? Or, a moon, cast in shadow, could be an eclipse. He picked up the astronomy book and looked in the back for the table of lunar eclipses; there weren¡¯t any for nearly a year. That didn¡¯t seem to be right. Frank picked up the slightly warm beast core and tucked it, with his heirloom conduit, back into his component box. Frank, tired and aching from his first controlled use of serious magic for months, sat on his hard desk chair. He was tempted to just read the books the spell had selected as its vocabulary. The clue could still be a combination of the words, and possibly the subject of each book. Unfortunately, the book¡¯s subjects did not give him an obvious clue: An Astronomy text, a Bestiary, History, Folk Tales, A Treatise on Language and Glyphs, a Legal Treatise on Forbidden Magic, and a Meditation Guide. In short, nothing that would make sense until perhaps later, in hindsight, that could make this meaning understandable. ¡®I will figure this out.¡¯ Frank buried his face in his hands. ¡®Maybe.¡¯ The Raven Queen was seemingly clever and powerful, but he had over a thousand thaums of power available.He¡¯d been a half term from Mastery. He was a sorcerous investigator. He wouldn¡¯t let this setback keep him from figuring out the Raven Queen He leaned back in his chair and stared at his office¡¯s grey-painted ceiling. ¡®Where is Marie?¡¯ Frank started. She would stay at the parlor and she planned to visit Millie, but ¡­ it was late afternoon. The sun would soon set. She¡¯d been away all day. If she planned on staying out for longer, she hadn¡¯t said. Frank Poe was not the sort to discount his premonitions, and his premonition put a churning feeling in his gut. Frank fished in his pocket for his work-a-day conduit and a cleaning cloth. Dousing the cloth in alcohol from his drawer, he changed a few quick marks on the array, modifying and simplifying the commands, then changing the energy source to the heat in the air, and leaving an out in case the spell took too much power. Frank placed the book of folk tales in the vocabulary square. He turned his will to the modified spell. The book flopped open, and Frank read the first full sentence that came to him. The book quoted a princess: ¡°I am aware of the danger I run, but it does not deter me from my purpose.¡± Frank jumped up so quick, he knocked over his chair. Marie was in danger, probably of her own making. He considered a map scry. But, he did not have any hair or blood to scry with. He could take one of her possessions, but then he¡¯d have to break into her bedroom. ¡®Or no.¡¯ Poe thought as he ran out to her table. ¡®She keeps our finances!¡¯ Poe scooped a pencil, bottles ink, and the accounting book, and ran back into his office. Poe pulled his city atlas off the shelf, a bottle of mercury from his component box, and several other components. Working quickly, he created a third spell array. This was a complex variation on map scry, but it was a spell that he¡¯d perfected for the use with an atlas, rather than a single map. For real accuracy, he¡¯d have worked from a diorama, but who had the space? For components in the array he had a bottle of iron gall, a bottle of India ink, a black diamond, a gold coin, the large beast core he pulled back out of the component box, a handkerchief that had captured rain from the plane of radiance, Marie¡¯s pencil, and last, the office accounting book. Poe put the drop of mercury on the street atlas, focused his will, and started the scry. The magic bucked him! A slight glow started in the array. Frank practically heard his professors¡¯ contempt for such a poor casting. Frank poured on more of his will and focused. Marie shouldn¡¯t have any protections against scrying. Then, Frank realized the trouble. Marie was close to another magical effect; it blocked him! With increased application of Frank¡¯s will, the bead of mercury finally did as it should, and melted into the atlas. The pages flipped open to a page on a neighborhood not far from Hands, Hearts, and Palms. But, instead of resting as a quicksilver bead on the page, the mercury spread out, like oil on the surface of water, making an irregular iridescent shape on the buildings between several streets. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Frank tried to improve the resolution; to get the bead to shrink back into a bead and point to the building where Marie might be found, but it refused. Poe pushed the spell as far as he dared, and then let it go. The scry only showed the Marie¡¯s general location in those few blocks. Poe could only think of a few reasons that could happen, and none of them were particularly good. Stella or the worker¡¯s a the parlor would know Marie¡¯s location, because Poe had a dreadful feeling that Millie was responsible for this divination resistance. A thaumaturge of Millie Parker¡¯s supposed power wasn¡¯t enough to stop his search, but it was enough to dilute the spell. He tossed on his coat, grabbed an extra beast core, and ran out and down the street toward the parlor. He tried to ignore the pressure behind his eyes. The extra strain he¡¯d taken, facing the will of some other sorcerer or effect. Maybe he wasn¡¯t as recovered as he thought. Of course, when he arrived, none of the regular bouncers or receptionists were there. He asked for Marie by name and instead of information, he got brittle smiles and hostile glares. He asked for Mama Stella, for Madame, and even for Dinky. They weren¡¯t available. Just as the bouncer was moving to toss him out, Madame must have been alerted. She looked better, but still sported some of the bruises. ¡°Madame! You know me; I¡¯m Poe. Where is Marie?¡± ¡°Mr. ¡­ Poe? Have we met?¡± ¡°I do not have time for this.Marie didn¡¯t return to the Agency. Where. Is. Marie?¡± Madame gave Poe a long thoughtful look. Whatever calculation she¡¯d been doing in her head, it came out as a willingness to help Frank, which was the most he could hope for. ¡°She¡¯s visiting Millie.¡± ¡°Where?¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± Frank drew the street atlas from his pocket, flopped it open to the page that the spell had identified and pointed. ¡°Which house?¡± Madame traced her finger down the street, thinking.¡±That one.¡± She pointed. Frank snapped the book shut. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Madame called after him as he flung himself out into the evening. A few minutes later, Madame was still standing at the reception desk. She felt upset about something, but she just wasn''t sure what about. Frank ran. He¡¯d barely exercised for several years, but his body still seemed to know how to run. That sadist Fekten, in his Defense classes, had still left some memory in his body for running. But, when he reached the street with the Millie¡¯s house on it, he slowed to a stop, breathing hard. Nothing looked too out of the ordinary. The street was, perhaps, a bit quiet. Frank walked slowly now, counting the buildings, looking for the house Madame pointed him too. Then he saw it. The door was slightly ajar. Inside it was dim, but looked like there was the beginnings of a party; there were people moving inside. It felt strangely inviting. The whole building seemed to take on the feeling of ¡­ Frank stopped halfway up the stairs. The compulsion was mild, but it was growing stronger as darkness approached. He pulled his pipe from his coat, packed it as quickly as he could with his etherglow kinninnik, and lit it. He held his pipe and smaller conduitHe blew a smoke ring, but was too nervous, and the smoky ring was obviously not clear enough. Taking a second mouthful of smoke, he blew three perfect rings. Picking the best one floating upward, he cast, holding the smoke circle in place with the magic and holding the protection word and phrase in place in his mind. The mind is so much faster, if more imprecise, than chanting. But, Frank had practiced this hundreds of times: A protection for the mind and body from Aberrance. Put we on the spirit armor, to stand against the lies, for we fight not flesh and blood; but against powers, against darkness, against wickedness. Therefore take up the armor, resist the evil, and stand with all things real. The spirit armor locked in place, invisible. This wasn¡¯t that powerful a spell when esoterically cast like this, but it did scale, and would last some time, even as the smoke ring dissipated. He dared not try to use his full will, as tired as he felt. When had he cast so many spells in quick succession? Not for a long time. The armor worked, and his mind cleared, but he felt a strong urge to cry. ¡®Blood magic? Millie Parker would be far more than an apprentice to cast a spell of this power. This would be great risk if she just wanted revenge.¡¯ Frank thought. He stood at the doorway, his emotions telling him to run in and save Marie. His logic telling him that something was very wrong. ¡®I could just go to the Red Guard.¡¯ Frank considered this, but he knew he wouldn¡¯t almost as it had come to mind. It would take time, and Marie was in danger now. He had no proof that this was an aberrant. And, what kind would he report? ¡®A nightmare type?¡¯ Frank questioned. ¡®No.¡¯ He concluded. If it were a nightmare type, he¡¯d still feel the pressure, or maybe some other effect; in fact, if it were a Nightmare type, he might already have been snared. If this was a nightmare type, he might as well try to find what was left of his apprentice before he died. ¡®I¡¯ll just check, carefully, to see what the source of this magic is.¡¯ If it was an aberrant, he¡¯d try to grab Marie and leave. If it was blood magic, Millie Parker was likely not strong enough to keep him ensnared. Frank put his conduit and beast core away. ¡®No more casting. I¡¯m strained enough.¡¯ He thought.The spirit armor would protect him. He pushed the door slightly open and peered into the dark hallway behind it; the sunset illuminated only a short way into the house. He limbered his wrist, and spun the still hot pipe. He took another draw, letting the radiance fill him, when he blew out, the glowing smoke lit the dark entryway. Some people loitered just inside; dazed and confused looking. Snared, but not ¡­ ¡°Are you here to behold her beauty? She is the most beautiful! We should worship her.¡± A lanky dark haired man with a red scarf tied around his arm said to Frank. Frank ignored him, and pushed into the house. At the top of the landing was a figure of mesmerizing white. Frank¡¯s attention wandered for a moment, caught in her swaying motion. She was full of grace and beauty. Her arms raised and lowered, her nude body swaying and dancing.Was she scarred? What of it? That only wrote more beauty in her flesh. It reminded Frank of the gold repair of fine tea bowls; in fixing the shattered thing, the scars returned her to even greater elegance. Lines of gold had repaired the porcelain of her body. Frank threw off the compulsion; as long as his spell held, he would not get lost in adoring that dancing form. She was an aberrant, but seemingly not a strong one. Frank¡¯s hand hurt; when he looked at it he realized his grip on the pipe had gone so tight the kraken pattern was digging into his palm. At least the aberrant didn¡¯t seem to be his apprentice. She was naked, and too noticeably womanly and scarred to be Marie. Millie Parker, Frank guessed. ¡®I have to find Marie.¡¯ Frank decided. He couldn¡¯t lose her to this. Frank saw people quite close to what was left of Millie, on the stairs and the landing. The people around her did not dare touch, but they all stood transfixed: held in place by the kind of mind bending magic that only blood sorcery or an aberrant produced. The mental effect was weak, compared to magic of the last aberrant he¡¯d met. Likely, even without the spirit armor, he could resist it. If, however, he were prepared. He was not prepared. Considering the turmoil of his mind at that moment, only his spirit armor spell kept him from falling down into a hole of adoration. He cursed, and dragged his eyes away, scanning the crowd for Marie. He spotted women and men, old and young, including some two dozen sycophants and worshipers, on the second floor, in the hallway, and even in some of the rooms.All of them dazed, even if She was not in their line of sight. ¡°Marie!¡± Frank called. What else he could do but call for her? ¡°Marie?¡± ¡®Is she somewhere else?¡¯ He thought. ¡®In the back of the house?¡¯ He moved through, trying to push his way toward the back, and simultaneously trying not to be ensnared again by the aberrant¡¯s magical effect.Her effect wasn¡¯t as strong if he looked away. But, looking away was his mistake. Without him watching for it, the creature glided down the stairs, then touched his shoulder from behind, and, when he twitched, he faced her. He stared directly into Her eyes and beheld all the broken beauty in the world. The armor, which he¡¯d incompletely cast, simply melted away, then Frank felt his body lose balance from the backlash, and even without maintaining an active connection to the spell, he fell like a marionette with all the magic cut from it. He lost consciousness into a haze of adoration.His body recovered, but his mind could find no purchase to climb out of the emotional hole. His will, not fully recovered from casting earlier in the day, was too spent. A silent music of longing filled him. It felt so good to watch the beautiful moon fey dance and forget. He was just so tired. He¡¯d failed. Again. In the thrall of Her, Frank did not feel his tears, even as they dripped off his chin and onto the floor. Chapter 21: Bad Sleeps Month 12, Day 7, 4:00 AM Marie In the early hours of the morning, when Marie woke, she decided that she had not slept particularly well. The dank cellar provided no comfortable place to sleep. For one thing, the cellar had a dirt floor, and the walls were dusty. Sleeping meant dirt in her hair, on her dress, and in her boots. Also, she imagined there was vermin everywhere: bugs, mites, spiders, and almost certainly mice. Marie could smell the mouse pee. But, this was mere external discomfort; her arms and shoulder developed bruising that she could feel most of the night, but not see, because the moonlight through the little window was only enough to see the shapes of things in a pale monochrome. She wished desperately for the glowing bottle of moonlight sizzle Frank had shown her. When she¡¯d woken in the darkness, her mind first had to adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings, then she remembered the events that put her in this sorry state. When Dinky threw her in the cellar, he¡¯d locked door. It was an old lock, and probably pretty simple. But it was still more than enough to keep Marie stuck there. After banging on the door, and giving that up, Marie had searched the cellar for something she could use to escape. The primary contents of the cellar were wax-sealed and opaque unlabeled jars filled with wet somethings: Could have been peaches. Could be pig brains. Could have been spell components. Could be rat poison. In fact, it could have been all four. If there was a way to tell one from another without opening them, Marie couldn¡¯t discern it, even before the light failed. She considered prying them open with her knife, but she decided against it. She was thirsty, but not that thirsty. Not yet. The other items didn¡¯t seem all that helpful to an escape either. Marie found some dusty butcher¡¯s string, a big pot of salt, some discarded and dirty rags in a box, and a dusty tin with a few forged nails rattling around in the bottom. But, even though Millie had nails, she apparently did not bother with useful door-breaking things like hammers, mallets, or crowbars. Marie tried to turn the lock with her knife. She succeeded in pushing the old fashioned key out of the lock, but no more. The door fit well enough in its jam that it had scraped a groove on the floor. There was no clever way to sneak the key under door though the nonexistent gap. She had no idea how to pick a lock, so even with the nails, it made no difference. Marie threw them back in the can. Before settling on a place to sleep, Marie ticked off the qualities of her accommodation: No bed. No water. No food. Unless she broke into the mystery jars, which may, or may not, have had anything to eat in them. All in all, Marie would be writing a one star review. Eventually, all Marie could find of interest was a black feather that sat under the ¡°window.¡± When she found it, she just collapsed against the wall, hoping she could hear someone, and then she could shout to for help. Before sleeping, Marie had plenty of time to think about what must have happened to Millie. But, there was nothing to do but mourn. Sure, the aberrant still lived. But, Millie Parker ¡­ seemed gone. A fey creature of pure fascination and adoration took her place in the world. Marie figured that if she¡¯d only visited sooner, maybe she could have talked Marie out of trying whatever dangerous magic she¡¯d cast. Or maybe Poe could reverse the spell? Poe had said it was hopeless to save an aberrant, but maybe the Red Guard had magic that would help. Marie knew she didn¡¯t know everything; surely, Poe didn¡¯t know everything either. Even to Marie, this denial felt hollow. She could reason well enough. This wasn¡¯t a mere spell. Even in the cellar, Marie felt it: the magical effect attracting everyone to Millie Parker¡¯s home. The aberrant spreading adoration and awe. That magic wouldn¡¯t change Marie. She refused. If she could remember Frank Poe, she could certainly remember herself. For her whole life, Marie grew up around people who wanted things. Marie knew well enough what the Hands, Hearts, and Palms sold. Its clients wanted fine food, alcohol, potions, money, or sex. They wanted an escape. They wanted connection. They wanted to feel good. They wanted to be wanted. As long as she could remember, Marie had refused to exist for other people, and she wasn¡¯t about to start now. She would not want things to want them. Maybe that¡¯s why Poe¡¯s curse never worked on her. She didn¡¯t know. But, if Marie was to work her will on the world, it would be for her purposes, and she wouldn¡¯t be dissuaded so easily. Millie Parker, however, wanted to be wanted more than anyone Marie knew. Millie was desperate to be loved. ¡®No. Not loved.¡¯ Marie thought carefully about Millie¡¯s magic. Marie remembered how beautiful the glamours appeared; like a fine lady dressed in the finest cloth and perfect skin. ¡®Millie Parker wanted to be desired.¡¯ Millie must have been desperate to recapture that grace after she was beaten. So, Marie guessed, Millie found a spell she didn¡¯t understand, or one that was too powerful for her, or maybe she thought she could make a spell of her own. Then she cast it, and she¡¯d obviously broken. Millie ended just as Poe described. Maybe it could have been avoidable. Maybe Marie could have stopped her. Maybe if Millie had understood that so many people would have been happy with her the way she was. Without glamour, Millie was never beautiful, but Marie never minded. How many more people could have kept Millie from this fate, if only she¡¯d understood that beauty was not the only thing? What right did strangers have to demand that Millie be beautiful? Marie¡¯s didn¡¯t lack of empathy for Millie. Marie understood Millie well enough. Marie had a similar desire in her heart. She wished¡ªfrom time to time¡ªthat her daddy, whoever he was, would have loved her enough to stay in her life. But, Marie rejected the premise that being desired and being loved were the same thing. She felt furious at Millie, furious at the man that had beaten her, furious at the injustice of the Morrows, furious at their healers. She felt especially furious at the stupid locked door that kept her trapped in this dirty cellar. She should have been furious with Dinky, but she knew that he wouldn¡¯t have the will to fight Millie¡¯s magic. As big and as tough as he could be, he also followed orders. He wasn¡¯t willful enough. Of course, when Poe didn¡¯t come for her immediately, she felt furious at Poe too. Well, maybe not too much. She was just hopeful, and he let her down. She heard people arriving periodically. There was quite a crowd, if all the footsteps were an indication. Eventually, she had heard Poe arrive. It was late; nearly dusk. Poe called out to her. She¡¯d jumped up, ran to the door, and called to him, but he must not have heard. He did not come. She did, unfortunately, hear someone fall. And Poe didn¡¯t call out again afterward. That made her sick and afraid. Dinky knew her, but no one knew Poe. Would they restrain themselves when protecting their Moon Fey? Marie sat and shivered under the window. Cellars are cold, and they were designed that way. Clutching the feather, she¡¯d cried for a bit. Not because she was sad, but because she was so angry. Then she realized she was furious at herself. Why couldn¡¯t she have been bigger? Or stronger? Or just have run away when she realized something was wrong? Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. It seemed that Millie Parker got what she wanted after all. Anyone who looked upon her would stay with her. Forever. Until they likely died of starvation or dehydration. Marie was likely trapped here until the Red Guard came, or until she died. After the sun fully set, Marie sat and leaned against wall with the window, even though the wall was dusty and the floor was literally hard packed dirt. She held the raven feather in her cupped hands, and as the light faded into moonless evening, she watched it become a black silhouette in a room of deep shadows. She stared at the feather for a long time. She imagined she was a Raven Queen that could turn into shadows and escape through the little barred window. Really, it wasn¡¯t much more than a hole; but it was far too small for her to escape as a girl. But, if she was a raven, she could escape. Finally, she¡¯d slept. Badly. The now-risen moon cast a glow through the barred opening in the cellar¡¯s wall. Her body reminded her that it was done trying to sleep against a stone wall. She really wanted a bath. Everything hurt: her bruised fists from hammering on the door, her head where it rested against the white stone, her cramped legs, her much abused shoulder where she¡¯d apparently landed when she fell, and her forearms that were sore and tender from rolling down the stairs. Her shin hurt too, but she wasn¡¯t sure why. Her scalp itched from the grit in her hair. She really wanted a bath. The feather had fallen from her grasp and was lying in a moonbeam on the floor. Marie sat up. ¡°I am a sorcerer.¡± Marie said aloud. She had her conduit. She had string and nails to mark a circle in the dirt. She had memorized the spell array to attract the attention of the Frigg. It made a noise. Even if Frigg didn¡¯t come, someone might realize there was something wrong if Marie made it loud enough. Or, maybe Frigg would come. Marie didn¡¯t know how Frigg would help, but she might be some help. At this point, with a vague sense that spiders could at any moment fall in her hair, Marie would take any help. There wasn¡¯t much light. But there was enough. Marie could see the dirt in front of the window to make a spell array. Marie found the discarded nails and the string, then pushing one nail into the hard packed earthen floor. She scraping her palm in the process and it hurt, but she hissed and fought the urge to rage. She wrapped one end of the string around the pivot, and the other end on a second nail. With the most crude compass ever made, she began making a circle. Her circle was barely visible in the dark, but she managed a deep groove. Stretching the string out, she used the straight line it made to make the triangle she needed inside the circle. Salt. Salt could make a conductive circle, and she had a big jar of it by the door. Marie took a handful of it and carefully carried it back to her circle. She ignored how the salt burned where it touched the scrape on her hand. She filled the grooves in the array with it. Marie tried to make it as perfect as possible. Then she placed the feather in the array; she did not have all the original components, but she did know all the symbols for what she needed. She would convert the heat in the air to sound. A raven sound. Marie had a moment of concern; this would be the first time she cast a spell alone. No. That wasn¡¯t true. Poe watched her, but she already cast the spells on her own. She¡¯d cast this spell without his help. She merely needed to focus. She heard the sound of the raven in her head. She knew what the sound needed to be. She knew it needed to be as loud as she could make it. The spell array waited for her to stretch her will to it. Her conduit was in her had. Kneeling next to the ciricle, Marie bore down with her will, and activated the array. ¡°KRAA.¡± The array burst with a booming raven call. It was so loud, it rang in Marie¡¯s ears. Marie instantly felt dizzy, tired, and disoriented. In the small cellar, the noise had been amplified. ¡®That worked.¡¯ Marie thought. ¡°Now, will someone come?¡¯ She tried to stand, and was dizzy for a moment. Her hand fell on the salt circle and knocked salt across the floor. ¡®That¡¯s right; I¡¯m not supposed to do magic. I should hide this.¡¯ Marie stood and scuffed way the array with her feet. As she finished, she heard a tapping at the barred window. When she looked up, there was a familiar black shape looking down on her. ¡°Frigg!¡± Marie said. ¡°Do you have some way to help? I need help.¡± Frigg bobbed her head. She had something in her beak, and she dropped it through the window. ¡°Kraa. Kraa.¡± Frigg replied. She cocked her head. Marie looked for the thing Frigg dropped. In the dark, metal glinted. When Marie picked it up, she recognized it. It was the pin Frigg had stolen. A pin made from half of a broken skeleton key. Marie looked at it dumbly. Did Frigg just ¡­ give her a key? Marie ran up the steps and fit the key into the lock. It was hard to turn, but it did turn. She desperately twisted the slippery pointed end until the lock gradually slid the metal bar into the lock. She pulled the key out and slipped it into a pocket. If she ended up back in the cellar, she¡¯d want a way out. She glanced back at the window, toward Frigg. Frigg nodded. ¡°Kraa.¡± Frigg called. She beat her wings, and the raven disappeared into the night. Marie felt a wave of nausea and her head was pounding. The magic of Her was stronger here. Marie needed to get out of this house and warn people. Marie reached to the sheathed knife tucked in her dress. She wasn¡¯t going to get caught again. She would fight her way out if she had to. She gripped the knife tightly, and carefully, slowly, turned the knob, then gently cracked open the door. It was dark in the hallway, maybe even darker than the cellar. A crowd of people milled about, moving jerkily with vacant expressions. Most of them seemed to be men; Marie figured they were the sort of men who visited an expensive prostitute at night. Marie shivered, and she felt sweat beading up on her forehead. She swiped it away with her forearm. Her mouth was so dry, and she sucked on her teeth for some moisture. These men were all bigger and stronger than her. Dinky was her friend, and he¡¯d practically thrown her into the cellar. Marie did not want to think what the strange men could do. She hoped that she didn¡¯t find Dinky. The knife wouldn¡¯t be much use against him; she couldn¡¯t stab her friend, even after what he¡¯d done. Through the open door, Marie felt an even stronger pull. The magic of Her. She was close; perhaps on the landing at the top of the stairs, or in the front room by the front door. She had drawn more and more people to Her. The adoring crowd jostled gently to stay close to the moon fey. Marie dreaded it, but she looked at floor to see if she could see where Poe fell. But, she didn¡¯t. It was dark, but the floor still appeared clear. This was bad. ¡®He must be in the crowd somewhere.¡¯ Marie figured. Marie tried to slide unnoticed along a wall, where the fanatics would not notice her. A dim light shown from the front room, but she had to sneak past its doorway to escape the house. As she hunched down and gently pressed herself along the wall, and nudged people out of the way, Marie slid along. It seemed to take forever; although it probably took no time at all. Still, she didn¡¯t want anyone to become alert to her. It was hard to know what they¡¯d do. The pale glow in the room illuminated faces with a eerie light. There was light enough that Marie could discern color. Millie Parker had trapped Morrows and ordinary folk alike; Marie could see the occasional flash of red bandana or scarf. Marie eventually got a view of parlor room. The glow was from Her. What was left of Millie Parker had taken residence in the room, and continued to dance for Her adoring supplicants. Marie saw Her, and she was just as fey and beautiful, but Millie resisted it easily. Her friend really was gone; the fey creature took her entirely. Bare inches inside the doorway, holding his pipe in one hand, and conduit in the other, a familiar figure stood. In the illumination of the pale light, Marie recognized his brightly colored coat. ¡°Poe!¡± Marie realized¡ªto her own shock¡ªthat she had called to him. Poe had his back to Marie, seemingly enthralled. In an instant, from behind, someone grabbed the arm that held her knife. Marie tried to wrench herself free; she was pretty sure she¡¯d cut whoever had tried to grab her. But, when trying to pull away with the knife, she¡¯d been let go with a jolt. Her arm pulled free with a jerk, slamming into her own chest, with the knife in her white-knuckled grip. Stabbing oneself hurt. Her body told her, in no uncertain terms, that a few inches of knife did not belong between her ribs. Marie screeched. That somehow hurt more. She staggered with her back against the wall; no one else seemed to want to grab her. She let go of the knife immediately, and didn¡¯t even try to pull it out. It hurt so bad. And she was dizzy. And her head was already pounding. Marie saw Poe turn toward her, breaking his eye contact with the Millie Parker. His face was entirely in shadow, so Marie could not see his expression. Did the koi on his coat move? Marie felt dizzy. Blood loss? Will strain? Exhaustion? The last thing Marie saw before the blackness took her was the tip of Poe¡¯s pipe flaring with an orange glow. Chapter 22: The Broken Doll Month 12, Day 7, 5:00AM Frank Poe Frank would never willingly describe his encounter with the Aberrant after the fate ritual went so very wrong. His doctors at the Retreat tried and failed. Only the Red Guard drug the story out of him. Once. This was not as bad, and many times worse. At least this time, he didn¡¯t know anyone affected by it, and didn¡¯t need watch them torn apart. Ever since the accident, he hated being touched. But, when She had done it, he finally felt relaxed and comfortable among the crowd in a way he¡¯d not experienced in a long time. Only subconsciously did he not stay in among the crowd closest to Her. She did not, however, let him escape too far from her shimmering, fascinating, and mesmerizing form. But, fascination also came with longing, and that did not make his experience pleasant. This aberrant seized the mind and squeezed. Frank lost almost all control, and in that state he¡¯d stood transfixed by the terrible, scarred, graceful, and beautiful figure of Her. From the moment he¡¯d despaired, his will shattered and what was left of his mind scrabbled amongst the broken pieces. From the moment She touched his shoulder and broke his spirit armor, She was his world. Already strained, Frank could not muster any motivation to stop the euphoria that came from gazing upon her. He¡¯d known better. But, his emotions had lead him astray. Most people think they make decisions based on logic, but they don¡¯t. They decide what they want to do, then they fill the logic in afterward. Frank knew this. The mind held many traps for the unwary, and the University tried to warn its graduates about all of them. Frank had fallen for this trap, and in hindsight, he knew it. In addition to the despair of his failure, he had trapped himself in his own recrimination. So, instead of fighting back the compulsion to be fascinated by Her, Frank¡¯s exhausted mind did no more than observe, and sooth itself in a strange half desire. Hours had passed. Vaguely, Frank was aware that more and more people joined the vigil. She danced, and the dance contained sweet dreams and visions of unescapable nightmare. In the throws of Her power, nothing would be as beautiful. Eventually, Frank¡¯s reason did batter against the doors of his mind, seeking a way out. But, his reason possessed no strength. Frank¡¯s strength had been sapped by his failures. He felt increasingly sure Marie died; either to Her, or Her protective and violent self-appointed protectors. Binky, for example, always flanked Her, and was compelled to protect her just as strongly as Frank felt compelled to watch. Frank idly wondered, as he observed the beautiful red scars that accented Her legs like the etching on decorative glass, was Dinky¡¯s protectiveness his idea, or was it part of Her enthrallment? Then, after he and his fellow sycophants had passed the darkest part of the night¡ªeven in darkness She glowed with magic¡ªFrank¡¯s adoration was broken by a Raven¡¯s resonating ¡°KRAA.¡± He snapped his eyes shut, and he grasped the sound with his mind. ¡°Marie.¡± He whispered. That was her spell. She had called to a raven. But, it also felt like she¡¯d called to him. Frank¡¯s mind was clear at last. He would save her. He had not failed. Waking from the floating dream of Her, Frank finally had some sense of place. His will was clear and forceful. He was in the room with the aberrant, and she was dancing before him. But, he¡¯d never dropped his pipe. The bowl of the pipe could act as a circle, and there was magic there he could activate. Magic designed to help him escape. Keeping his eyes closed to put Millie¡¯s influence out of his mind, Frank slowly reached in his pocket. If Dinky, or one of the more zealous sycophants, knew he was free of the magic, they¡¯d try to put him back under. So, he¡¯d have to do this without alerting them. He slowly drew his conduit out, to hold in his opposite hand. Frank breathed. The cool, musty air of the parlor filled his nose. There was a perfume or incense. The parlor smelled like a city, with the people adding their own colognes and swamp flowers. He lit the pipe with a touch of his will to the pipe¡¯s enchantments. The rich smell of the etherglow kinninnick bloomed. It always reminded Frank of the gulf; the cool smell of wind over water, but without the stagnate smell of decay. Etherglow smelled variously like cypress and thyme flowers; open clean scents without cloying musk. He gripped his will and snapped his eyes open. To a true sorcerer, this aberrant was nothing more than the sad marionette of Millie Parker. Frank was, if nothing else, a true sorcerer in his heart, even if his mind had temporarily gfailed him. Frank kept his observations detached, and so there was no place for Her to latch onto in Frank¡¯s mind. He needed to find Marie, and he needed to escape. A steel smoking pipe doesn¡¯t seem like much of a weapon to an untrained eye. But, when merchant sailors had been banned from carrying swords, they learned better than to rely on the Crowns¡¯ Marines to protect them. Masters of the smoking pipe didn¡¯t teach in some fine lord¡¯s fencing hall. They learned and practiced in the rough seas and dock barrooms. They hid the techniques they knew behind whimsical names and obscure references. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. From these sailors, Frank learned that the business of a fight was to put your opponent down, no matter how. Honor and dueling canes were for fools that thought a fight had rules. He had his weapon ready, and he took a moment to observe his situation rationally. The windows would be the quickest way out, with the fewest of the crowd between him and freedom. He began to plan his escape from the parlor. It would be better if he didn¡¯t have to touch anyone. There were already too many people around, and he had to resist an urge to just start shoving. He shifted his grip on the kisseru-pipe to ¡°smoking on the afternoon watch.¡± Arm raised slightly, wrist turned up, fingers on the bowl-end so that he could switch to an underhand grip in an instant. He could start with an obfuscation. ¡°Poe!¡± Frank spun about to see Marie standing in shock just across the hallway. The hallway, the room; the little house had become crowded, and much taller adults surrounded Marie. She¡¯d stepped away from the wall. This made her vulnerable. In the light from the aberrant, Maire¡¯s face appeared as a pale and terrified, her dark clothing otherwise giving the impression of a deep shadow. Poe saw the situation instantly, and took his first step toward her, but the strangers around her were quicker. One of them grappled with her from behind, and a knife glinted. Marie¡¯s knife. Marie wrenched her arm away, slashing and cutting the thin woman who attacked her. The woman stumbled. In the dark it was impossible to see exactly what happened. But Marie screamed in fear and outrage. And pain. She splayed her arms, and at first Poe could not see where the knife had gone. Had she dropped it? But then as she was stumbling, she fell haphazardly onto her back against the wall, and stayed down. Frank willed the circular array at the mouth of the pipe to life and burned the kinninnik. The kinninnik flared as an orange spark in the cool light of the aberrant. Frank brought the pipe to his lips, and blew. White glowing smoke exploded into the room and hallway, completely obscuring everything. He tucked his conduit away, so that his off hand would be ready to use with the fighting pipe. Even in the smoke, a sycophant tried to grab Frank, pushing Frank away from the doorway. Frank flipped the pipe over, slid it under the man¡¯s wrist, grabbed the mouthpiece end with his other hand, and used the two handed ¡°twisting the auger¡±; the wrist twisted and then broke with a pop. The man staggered and nerveless fingers released him. Screaming in pain, the man still stood in Frank¡¯s way. Frank stepped into the sycophant, as if moving past him, but using the mouthpiece end of the pipe, struck the forehead of his assailant with ¡°carpenter hammers peg¡±. The attacker finally stumbled back the crowd. Frank sucked in air and tried to catch his breath. He hadn¡¯t practiced these skills for a while. His pulse raced, and his heart and lungs pumped hard. His attackers were not ready, and he was. Even though the smoke reduced the people around him to shadowed outlines, Frank didn¡¯t lose track of them or Marie. He still stood roughly in the doorway, so it was a simple matter to step out into the hallway, with shouts of outrage behind him, and the aberrant screeching something about light. The smoke¡¯s white glow faded, but it still blinded everyone, including Frank, turning the rooms and hallway into a dark fog. Frank bent his knees, lowered his center, and strode to the place Marie had fallen and push aside anyone that might have moved in the way. Only one step into the hallway, an attacker there attempted to grapple him. With the pipe bowl now on the back of the man¡¯s neck, Frank used ¡°stevedore¡¯s hook¡± to turn the lunge, and ¡°piper¡¯s turn¡± to use his assailant¡¯s momentum to redirect him and throw him down the hallway deeper in the house into other vague shapes, knocking them to the ground. Another man lunged at him from behind in the parlor and clouted him in the ear, but, although his ear hurt, there hadn¡¯t been much force behind it. Frank moved on instinct, without bothering with trying to see the attacker. Frank slid toward the attacker¡¯s body, and by feel, slipped under their arm, locking the pipe in both hands on the attacker¡¯s shoulder, and using the pipe for ¡°Cooper at the shave-horse¡±, which dislocated his arm. A simple kick in the leg to unbalance and ¡°pushing the capstan¡± sent the figure to the floor in the doorway, temporarily blocking more sycophants from rushing him from the parlor. Finally, there was space enough, but no light. Frank grabbed the moonlight sizzle from his pocket, and shook it. He had a moment while they peered through the smoke to find him; the moonlight sizzle lit the smoke like a white fog, further obscuring everything. Frank took another few steps, slipped the pipe in his coat, and scooped up Marie from the floor. He barely noticed how his anxiety faded when he saw her hurt. ¡°Marie! I¡¯ve got you. I¡¯ve got you.¡± Her head lolled about, and he wasn¡¯t sure how badly she might be hurt. With all the smoke, and the odd light, Marie was barely more than a dark shape in his arms. Something bumped his chest when he tried to lift her; her chest still had her knife in it. He realized what had happened; she¡¯d lurched so hard to break her attacker¡¯s grip, she had accidentally stabbed herself. Her black dress did not show the blood, but Frank could feel it, dampening his fingers. He almost put her back down. Frank had always known she was a small; but, Marie was no more than two-thirds his height, and weighed no more than a full barrel of wine. But she did seem to be breathing, although it was ragged. Even unconscious, she was groaning in pain. The new blossoming glow that cast Frank¡¯s shadow on the wall. Frank¡¯s smoke wasn¡¯t meant to be more than a momentary distraction, and while the aberrant would hold the sycophants¡¯ attention, that didn¡¯t mean She wasn¡¯t aware. Even as the Koi began swirling out of his coat involuntarily, the aberrant¡¯s magic tried to convince him to look upon Her. She would not give him love, but he¡¯d feel it. Like a warm bath. Like coming home. Tears came unbidden to his eyes. But, he did not forget the weight in his arms; Marie gave his will purpose. He grit his teeth and resisted. ¡°NO!¡± Frank shouted. Lurching into a run, Frank gave the aberrant no chance to touch him. Frank barreled down the hall. There were more people there, and he did not want to touch them, but, with his momentum, he shouldered away the unprepared sycophants that were at the doorway. When he made the street, the moon was out, and his smoke was drifting through the doorway, his school of koi swimming in the air. He let the koi return to the coat, and he leapt down from the porch onto the street. Frank ran out into the stygian-blue night, escaping the terrible beauty and magic of that broken doll. Chapter 23: Sheltering Under Green Antlers Month 12, Day 7, 5:30AM Frank Poe The lamps were lit, and shadows still pooled between them, even as the sky was lit with the moonlight. Frank ran away from Millie Parker¡¯s house and down street with Marie in his arms, but it was empty, so he didn¡¯t even bother calling out. Frank didn¡¯t make it far before a bearded man with stained clothes came out of a building, and called out to Frank. ¡°Hey! Where you running there? Hey!¡± Frank slowed for a few beats and stopped running. ¡°There¡¯s an aberrant. An Aberrant, man! At Millie Parkers¡¯.¡± Frank called out desperately. ¡°Call the Red Guard! the Coppers!¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Are you thick? Run to the Coppers! My apprentice has been stabbed! An aberrant is at Millie Parkers¡¯.¡± Frank turned his head and pointed with his chin toward the house down the street that he¡¯d fled from. The bewildered man stopped in his doorway with a blank look. ¡°Go! An Aberrant! Run straight to the Coppers!¡± Frank repeated. Thus excoriated, the man seemed to suddenly understand. Gilbratha was the most magical city in the world. People knew what to do when there was an aberrant. He took off running, work boots slapping hard on the road. ¡°Poe.¡± Marie said as she woke from unconsciousness. ¡°Marie?¡± ¡°It hurts Poe. I think ¡­ stabbed myself.¡± ¡°Shh. I have a healing potion here.¡± ¡°I think I¡¯m bleeding on your coat.¡± ¡°Never-mind that. I¡¯m going to put you down.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never been stabbed before.¡± ¡°Shh.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like it.¡± She whispered. ¡°I¡¯ve got a mild healing potion here, it should help with the wound, but ¡­ I have to pull the knife out while you drink. Can you do that?¡± Through gritted teeth, Frank saw that Marie nodded in the moonlight. Or perhaps the sun brightened the morning; Frank had lost his sense of the time. Frank carried her to the step of the building the man had run from. Frank carefully knelt, with Marie propped on his lap. She squeezed her eyes hard shut against the pain, and breathed in sharply. Even with the streetlamp, Frank couldn¡¯t really see Marie¡¯s injury. Frank shook the moonlight sizzle again to renew its light, and held it close to Marie¡¯s chest. It¡¯s soft glow felt unnaturally light, even harsh after the flight through the darkness. Frank got a better look at the knife wound. Marie¡¯s black dress had the look of wetness where the blood seeped through the fabric. There was a lot of blood there. Frank brought out his flask of healing potion and set it down at the ready. He had never done this before, but he knew what needed doing. Hesitation did not serve a sorcerer. Or, at least, that¡¯s what he told himself. He grasped the knife, and pulled it free, and put it in a pocket, blood smearing his hands. He felt Marie¡¯s warm blood on his fingers. She cried out, but Frank brought the potion to her lips, and, to his relief, she drank. When it was almost down, she convulsed in pain, and she coughed hard, and whimpered at that. ¡°It hurts. It still hurts.¡± Marie cried. She had tears streaming down her face. Something was wrong, and Frank had no idea what it was. ¡°A healer, Marie, where is the nearest healer?¡± ¡°Can¡¯t ¡­¡± Marie started to say, but then she stopped talking, and she convulsed and passed out. She looked so pale. She was still breathing, but Frank was very afraid she¡¯d lost too much blood and was dying. Frank needed a healer, and he had no idea where to get one. The Morrows and the parlor were in the area, but, the Morrows had already failed to help Millie, would they help Marie? They were out; Frank didn¡¯t trust the Morrows. He looked down at the bottle of moonlight sizzle that he¡¯d bought from the Verdant Stag. The Stags dealt in honesty, of a sort. He¡¯d have to pay, but surely they¡¯d have a good healer on retainer. They were open, and it wasn¡¯t so far. Poe took a deep breath, then picked up Marie, and started jogging toward the Verdant Stag. At first, adrenaline kept him going. Then fear. Then sheer stubborn will to arrive and demand a healer. When he did finally arrive at the Verdant Stag, his legs were burning, but the grand edifice of the building, lit within, was one of the most beautiful sights he¡¯d seen in years. The light of a new day was slowing turning everything near blue with morning light. When Frank stumbled into the antler festooned entryway, Marie felt like a lead weight in his arms. She was still breathing, he was sure, but she had not woken, and barely stirred. Her sleep, however, was unsettled and she grunted in pain and even said a few words in delirium. An enforcer met him at the door. The man took one look Frank¡¯s blood coated hands and grasped immediately what needed to be done. ¡°Healer?¡± He asked. Frank, exhausted, nodded. ¡°For you or her?¡± Frank, finally catching his breath, replied, ¡°Just her, but we must hurry, she was stabbed.¡± The enforcer nodded. ¡°It¡¯ll cost. You prepared to pay?¡± ¡°Absolutely.¡± Frank replied. The man lead them into a side room on the same floor; a professional had prepared the room to treat injuries. The room had a clean cot, towels, and even some potions at hand. There was a slate table in the middle of the room for healing. The enforcer directed Frank to put Marie down on the cot, while he called for the healer by pulling a bell. To Frank, she seemed so cold, and even more pale than normal. Frank swept her black hair away from her face. She took ragged, uneven breaths, even in unconsciousness. She didn¡¯t seem to be bleeding anymore, but he looked down at himself and realized his coat, which was self cleaning, still had blood on the wide sleeves and on his chest where he¡¯d held her against his body. These stains we already fading, but it was hard to know how much blood Marie had lost. A stern-looking healer entered with a young male assistant and immediately began to appraised the situation. The enforcer moved to stand just inside the door. There was no question of giving permission. ¡°Call me Healer Nidson. What¡¯s the injury?¡± ¡°She was stabbed in a fight.¡± ¡°With you?¡± ¡°No. We were attacked.¡± Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. ¡°Where?¡± Nidson asked. ¡°We were in Morrow¡¯s territory, and I didn¡¯t know where to find a healer we could trust.¡± Frank explained. Nidson slashed his hand in a nullifying motion. ¡°No. Where in her body was she stabbed?¡± ¡°Oh, ah, chest. Her left side.¡± ¡°Help me cut this dress off.¡± Nidson said. The assistant laid out tools, while Nidson moved to wash his hands, then gestured for Frank to do the same. ¡°You will help me and my assistant.¡± When Frank hesitated, Nidson continued. ¡°She is not a relative or lover?¡± Frank shook his head. ¡°Employee ¡­ and apprentice. Sorry.¡± ¡°Come on then. Wash your hands. You can apologize to her later.¡± ¡°Sorry.¡± Frank repeated. He washed up. Nidson took a heavy pair of shears and, with Frank¡¯s and the assistant¡¯s help, cut Marie¡¯s boots and dress off of her immobile body. Looking at Marie¡¯s nude body for the first time, Frank realized how thin and frail she actually was. Her elbows and knees looked overlarge on her, with insufficient muscle, and her hip bones were better defined than they should have been. Frank was shocked; he thought she¡¯d ate well. But the black dresses with long sleeves and tall boots had been covering her knees and elbows, hiding her thinness. She wasn¡¯t skeletal, but she seem much thinner than he¡¯d thought. She was also covered in bruises that Frank had not seen in the dark; her arms, shoulders, and legs had purple marks, cuts, and scrapes, and there was a huge faded mark of fingers wrapped around one forearm. ¡°Myrddin preserve us, did you beat her?!¡± The assistant exclaimed. Nidson¡¯s severe look shut the young man¡¯s mouth before he could continue. ¡°No.¡± Frank whispered, as he shook his head. She looked like she¡¯d rolled down a stair or something. Had she been laying somewhere unconscious while he¡¯d been snared? They revealed more bruises as they stripped off the bodice of the dress; but that was not the only surprise. Marie had a complex black spell array tattooed over the center of her chest, directly over her heart. ¡°Did you know about this?¡± Nidson demanded, gesturing at the tattoo. He¡¯d let the bruises pass without comment, but this was on a completely different level. ¡°No.¡± Frank replied firmly. ¡°She never mentioned it.¡± Frank could read most of the glyphs in the tattoo, and that gave him pause. In the array, the glyph for blood had been tucked in one corner. Marie had a blood enchantment. What happened to give her a tattoo like that?¡¯ Frank wondered. But, this was barely a stray thought compared to the distress of Marie¡¯s most severe injury. The knife wound itself was and angry bloody mark on Marie¡¯s left side, and was clearly her worst injury. Luckily, it seemed to have stopped bleeding. There was bruising and dried blood that they needed to clean. Nidson had his assistant work on the cleaning, while directing Frank to get clean towels and clear water. To start, Nidson cast a diagnosis spell. Immediately after, he began administering potions, but then, after the wound was cleaned, he had Poe and the assistant move Marie to the slate table, where he performed a direct healing. Frank knew that healing was a difficult and sometimes dangerous art, but Nidson made it seem easy. He treated Marie¡¯s wound quickly and efficiently. The wound closed with only a pale scar, and Marie¡¯s breath relaxed and color finally started coming back to her face and arms. The severe injury taken care of, they dressed Marie in a loose surcoat-like garment that tied on both sides of Marie¡¯s body. Nidson cast another diagnostic spell. ¡°What about the will strain? What do you know about that?¡± Nidson asked. ¡°Will strain! She shouldn¡¯t have ¡­ oh.¡± Frank realized, then, why the Raven¡¯s call had seemed so loud. In a panicked state, Marie had likely put all her will into it. ¡°We were trapped in a situation with ¡­ what I believe was an aberrant. I think my apprentice overcharged a simple beginner spell to help us escape. Unsupervised, and against my direction, but she was probably desperate. She was attacked and stabbed after.¡± ¡°The alarms haven¡¯t sounded.¡± Frank shook his head. ¡°I asked a bystander to go notify the Red Guard, but they probably forgot.¡± ¡°Forgot? How could they ¡­? You¡¯re Frank Poe. Of course.¡± Nidson, turned to the enforcer, ¡°We need to notify the Red Guard that there¡¯s a potential aberrant incident.¡± Nidson asked Frank for the location, and after Frank gave the address, Nidson repeated it. ¡°You should write it down.¡± Frank added. The enforcer grabbed a pencil and pad and quickly wrote the address at Frank¡¯s direction. He then dashed out of the room. Nidson wasted no time in returning to the topic. ¡°The will strain is mild, and with healing her other injuries, most of the worst of it has been mitigated. She¡¯s underweight for her age, but given her heart condition, she probably has trouble putting on weight.¡± ¡°The tattoo.¡± Frank observed. ¡°Yes. She probably had some sort of heart failure as a small child or infant. In fact, that tattoo probably kept her heart pumping when it otherwise would have stopped from shock on the way here.¡± Frank cringed, and rubbed his unshaven face. She¡¯d almost died saving him. ¡°Also, she needs to eat better.¡± Nidson lectured. ¡°Higher protein foods and lightweight fats. Milk, cheese, fish, fresh vegetables, and dulse. Give her nourishing draught to make sure she¡¯s getting the vitamins; her body may be having trouble digesting and distributing nutrients to her muscles and organs.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t know.¡± ¡°A proper master should be paying attention to these things.¡± Nidson replied. ¡°You specialized in divination as journeyman. I am sure you learned some diagnostic spells.¡± His words were mild, but Frank felt like they¡¯d been delivered like a slap. ¡°How ¡­ do you know me?¡± ¡°You are a famous case study for failed divination magic. You¡¯ve been the source of several academic papers, and a note in the Lenore Healer¡¯s Journal.¡± ¡°Ah. It was Fate magic.¡± ¡°As you say. Apparently, one needs to cast a memory spell to keep from forgetting meeting you?¡± ¡°That worked for some of the healers, but not all. A clear, forceful, and detailed will is often enough to remember, but most people just take notes. It doesn¡¯t keep them forgetting, but your mind can¡¯t forget a written record.¡± ¡°Notes it is then.¡± Nidson took a notebook from a shelf and began writing. Meanwhile Frank and the assistant moved Marie to the cot, then covered her with blankets, and put a pillow under her head. The tension Frank had felt from the overusing his magic, the adrenaline from the fight, and the anxiety of bringing Marie to the Stags were all wearing off. The relief left behind a bone deep exhaustion and aches. Frank fished in his coat for a pocket watch, and realized that Marie had received hours of treatment. Frank sat in a chair, and rubbed his face. Nidson looked up from his writing and observed Frank for a moment. ¡°Now that the apprentice has been seen to, let¡¯s take a look at the master, shall we?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Frank replied. ¡°You are not. You seem to be suffering from will strain, exhaustion, muscle strain - at least in you legs and hands - and your ear is bruised and cut.¡± ¡°What?¡± Frank noticed the pain¡ªactually pains¡ªin his head, but he didn¡¯t think it was that bad. Nidson, however, disabused him. Frank¡¯s injuries were only less severe than Marie¡¯s in the sense that he hadn¡¯t been stabbed. Frank had fallen hard to the floor at least once, and his fight against the sycophants wasn¡¯t as free of injury as he¡¯d thought. Nidson gave him a healing potion, nourishing draught, and told Frank sternly to stop casting spells for two weeks. Frank sighed. He¡¯s have to rely on more mundane investigative methods. Again. He was just so tired. After Nidson took some additional notes, he gestured for his assistant to help Frank move Marie. ¡°We¡¯ll get you both tucked into a room, and after you rest we¡¯ll see about payment.¡± As Nidson said this, powerful resonant alarms began to sound. ¡°That would be the call to get to shelters.¡± Frank said. The noise woke Marie, but she was barely out of her dream. ¡°Poe, we can¡¯t have the Raven Queen visit. We don¡¯t have any hot water for tea, and she¡¯ll want bone tea.¡± Marie mumbled. ¡°Where can we buy bone tea, anyway?¡± ¡°It¡¯s ok, we won¡¯t be inviting the Raven Queen over today. We¡¯re going to have a long rest.¡± Frank soothed. ¡°I¡¯ve got you.¡± He lifted her gently off the cot. Marie, eyes closed, murmured something close to ¡°ok¡± and she fell deeper into sleep. ¡°We have a shelter for the wealthier guests of the inn.¡± The assistant observed, the four of them headed out of the clinic. With Marie in his arms, Frank trouped with the crowd to the shelter. The Verdant Stag may have reserved the shelter for guests, but this seemed to be liberally interpreted, because everyone in the lunchtime crowd seemed to find a place in the Stag¡¯s shelter. The underground shelter, little more than a warded basement, filled completely. But, Nidson found a cot for Marie, and Frank sat on the floor leaning against a nearby wall. Nidson and his assistant went to look after an old woman who was mashed against a wall as she¡¯d attempted to enter the shelter. Frank was in the crowd, but loneliness pressed down on him. How sad was the state of affairs in the city that he¡¯d gone to criminals for help. Moreover, Frank¡¯s eyes felt sore and weak. His eyelids kept trying to close, even as he glared suspiciously at those around him. The shelter seemed safe, but he discounted the possibility that a pickpocket or rogue might pass over a sleeping target. He could not let down his guard. Frank needed to keep Marie safe, but if he¡¯d actually been threatened, he would have been weak as a kitten. The potions at work in his body pushed him to exhaustion. His pipe was tucked away, but he could neither summon the will to light it and cast magic, or the strength to wield it. After many long blinks, Frank kept up the struggle to keep awake. No serious academic student didn¡¯t have their little tricks to keep alert. Frank pulled out a notebook and scribbled spell arrays from memory, while simultaneously trying hard not to look like an easy target and worriedly observing Marie sleep. Eventually, the call of all clear allowed everyone out. Frank, dazed and barely alert enough to stand on his own, was led to a room with a bed big enough for four. When he made sure Marie was tucked away under the covers on one side, he removed his boots, and he lay himself on top of the covers on the far end. The High Crown¡¯s own bed couldn¡¯t have been more comfortable, and even fully dressed, Frank fell asleep instantly. Chapter 24: Waking Marie Month 12, Day 8, 4:00 AM When Marie woke, she realized a few of things. It was dark. She was in the biggest, softest bed she¡¯d ever been in, and someone else was sleeping on the far side of the bed. Worryingly, she found herself tucked under the covers, but she wore something unfamiliar; not her dress or boots. At least she was wearing something. She tried not to think about how that happened. But, most surprisingly, she did not hurt. No, that wasn¡¯t quite right, because she did ache a little, especially her head and her side. But, those pains felt like the pain of overwork and stress, rather than deathly injury. She figured that the last time she¡¯d been conscious, she¡¯d been dying. She wasn¡¯t entirely sure what dying felt like, but pain, bleeding, unconsciousness, and delirium seemed like probable symptoms. Technically, the process of dying happened all the time, she supposed, because you got old and died. But, specifically, when she¡¯d last checked in with consciousness, she had been dying of a self-inflicted stab wound to the chest. She choked off a laugh; she¡¯d hurt herself worse than the aberrant had. Still, she wasn¡¯t dead! Probably. She didn¡¯t know what death would feel like, but she suspected death did not feel like a full badder and some sore muscles. She flopped sideways in the bed, looking across at the person sleeping on the other side. Whoever it was, they slept on their back, fully dressed, on top of the blankets. There was light enough from the windows to see the koi on their coat. ¡°Poe?¡± ¡°Hmm. Ugh. What?¡± He came awake with mutter. Marie had lots of questions to ask him. What happened to Millie? Was that a spell? How did they escape? Where were her clothes?How did she get healed? Where were they? Why was he in the room with her? But the question that really felt the most compelling was: ¡°Poe, why are you sleeping on top of the covers?¡± ¡°It¡¯s one thing to sleep on a bed with an unrelated girl in it, and quite another to sleep in a bed with selfsame unrelated girl.¡± Poe said slowly. Marie felt a little flush of embarrassment. Of course. Sleeping in a bed together could spread ¡­ rumors? What was he trying to say? But then, there were more important things. ¡°Where are my clothes?¡± There was a silence. It lasted a little longer than it should have. ¡®Did he go back to sleep?¡¯ Marie thought. ¡°Don¡¯t be angry.¡± ¡°Why would I?¡± ¡°The healer had to remove them.¡± ¡°Ok.¡± ¡°With sharp shears.¡± Marie frowned. You couldn¡¯t take off clothes with ¡­ ¡°She cut them off?¡± Her clothes were destroyed? She liked that dress! You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. ¡°He.¡± Poe continued. ¡°He ¡­ And where were you for this?¡± ¡°Ah. I helped.¡± ¡°So. You¡¯ve seen the tattoo.¡± Frank breathed a relieved sigh. ¡°And, you¡¯ve seen me naked and destroyed my dress.¡± Poe lifted his hand to cover his eyes. ¡°I guess so.¡± ¡°I¡¯m ¡­ I need to use a bedpan.¡± ¡°This a suite. There¡¯s a washroom.¡± Poe pointed. Marie decided this was enough conversation for now. Poe knew her secret now. Or part of it. And she didn¡¯t have the dress that Poe bought for her. Or her favorite boots. She¡¯d loved those; they were fit, tough, and waterproof. She fought her protesting muscles, got up, and retreated to the washroom. Sorcerous lamps lit the clean whitewashed plaster room as well as other comforts: mirror, self-cleaning bed pan, and a basin with warm water tap, soap, and towels. After settling her business with the bedpan, she looked herself over in the mirror. The healer miraculously treated her wounds. The knife had left barely any mark at all. It had felt so wrong, and the invasion into her body had embarrassingly caused her to swoon. Marie berated herself for not being tougher. And, not being better able to handle the knife she¡¯d brought to the fight. ¡®Why am I so clumsy?¡¯ She thought. Her scrabbling in the cellar had chipped her nails and scraped the enamel. Now, on the tips of her nails, the enamel had faked of entirely. But, her hands were pink and healthy; the scrapes and damage from hammering on door were gone, as we were the painful bruises that she¡¯d had on her arms. She flushed in embarrassment at the the long shapeless tunic thing she wore. Its open sides had ties to hold it together, which made the tunic appear both oddly revealing and yet also plain and ugly. She hated how it made her look thin and sickly. ¡®Of course,¡¯ Marie thought, ¡®It doesn¡¯t help that I am thin and sickly.¡¯ She also wondered where her knife and the other items that were in her pockets had gotten to, like her conduit, and her old cloak pin. She felt sick that she¡¯d lost the conduit. Even a small one would be worth a lot. ¡®How will I pay him back?¡¯ Even aside from the ugly tunic, Marie still seemed in bad shape. Her black makeup had smeared around her eyes, especially with the tears leaking out of them, and her lips had cracked and dried. She wetted a towel and proceeded to scrub her face. It took some time, but eventually, she¡¯d scrubbed the makeup clear. Looking in the mirror again, regardless of her return to her usual level of ill health, she still sported bloodshot red eyes, and she had purplish dark circles around them. Although this might have nothing to do with stabbing, more to do with heruncontrollable tears. She¡¯d been crying since she¡¯d entered the washroom, and nothing she had done seemed to stop it. Marie firmly concluded this was improper behavior and unseemly for a young apprentice sorcerer. She found herself longing for a proper neck-deep bath. Normally, she washed with a rag and a basin. But, every few weeks, Mama would take them to a proper bathhouse ¡­ she¡¯d even gone with her friend Millie a few times. This made the crying somewhat worse. ¡°Marie?¡± Poe called from outside the washroom. ¡°Don¡¯t come in here!¡± Marie shouted. ¡°I, uh wasn¡¯t planning to.¡± ¡°Just, stay out.¡± ¡°Are you hurt?¡± Marie thought she had no reason to cry. ¡®I am fine. I¡¯m clean and not hurt. I don¡¯t need to cry.¡¯ Marie cried harder. She wanted to stop. Her sides hurt, and she couldn¡¯t breathe properly. It made her think about how the knife had gone in so quick, and how foreign it felt. She clutched her side. She¡¯d been dying. She¡¯d never felt terror like that before. Raining alone in the washroom felt oppressive. Unbearable. She wrenched open the door. Poe, who stood just outside the washroom, stepped back sharply. Marie did not let him retreat; she staggered into him, and hugged him around the middle as tightly as she could. He smelled a little metallic, but underneath were warm smells of cypress, a clear freshwater pond, and his pipe smoke. Poe awkwardly, but gently, returned her embrace. ¡°It¡¯s ok. You¡¯re safe.¡± He said. Marie just cried more. Chapter 25: We Save Each Other Marie Month 12, Day 8, 5:30 AM Over an hour later, the the suite¡¯s sitting room felt very nearly cheery, with the lamps lit and a real wood fire in a small stone hearth. Marie found herself sitting next to Poe on a small couch near the fire. Poe set her at ease, offering her any of several seating arrangements, but Marie felt best sitting next to him. He was close enough to touch, but she noticed that he¡¯d returned to keeping a distance between them, even if it was only a handspan. He¡¯d had some time to wash up, but although his coat was pristine blue with the koi bright and shimmering, his bright suit clothes underneath had stains and dirt across his chest and knees. Marie felt odd to see Poe anything less than perfectly dressed. There was a small pot of a bitter hot tea from the night kitchen, and two stoneware mugs.They had sipped and chatted for a couple of hours. She¡¯d had a second wash to clean off the tears, and he¡¯d explained what happened, then she explained how she ended up trapped, and how she escaped. Poe nodded along. Eventually, they got to the question that felt like it was the most important: what happened to Millie Parker? ¡°So, do you think the Red Guard eventually came?¡± ¡°I suspect so.¡± ¡°Is Millie ¡­ did they kill her?¡± ¡°Millie Parker is gone.¡± Frank said gently. ¡°All that¡¯s left is an aberrant. Even if the Red Guard didn¡¯t destroy the aberrant, she is dead.¡± ¡°What about everyone else?¡± ¡°The effect probably wore off. It was not a terribly strong compulsion. The Red Guard will take everyone in for observation and questioning, and then ¡­ well, they tend to modify everyone¡¯s memories to make them forget the details.¡± ¡°Oh. Isn¡¯t that illegal?¡± ¡°Not when the Red Guard does it.¡± ¡°That seems ¡­¡± ¡°Hypocritical? Manipulative? Dictatorial? Oppressive?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Tough. The Red Guard does what it likes, and sorcerers accept it because the alternative is worse: either ban magic entirely, or suffer uncontrolled break events.¡± Frank sounded both matter-of-fact, and a little bitter. ¡°At least they are not political in the ordinary sense. They aren¡¯t trying to run things. They probably won¡¯t even arrest any Morrows.¡± ¡°I guess.¡± Marie replied reluctantly. ¡°Can¡¯t they bring her back? If the Aberrant wasn¡¯t destroyed that is?¡± ¡°No. I once considered the Red Guard as a potential career path; who wouldn¡¯t want to protect the world? As a teenager, I read everything I could find about aberrants. There are entire books on the dumb mistakes sorcerers have made that turned themselves into aberrants. But, now that I am older, I suspect that the Red Guard controls much of the information. One fact, however, seems clear from most writers: once an aberrant has been born, the sorcerer is gone.¡± This made Marie consider her encounter with Mille in a new light. ¡°Why didn¡¯t the aberrant effect me?¡± ¡°There are several possible reasons. Mille Parker wasn¡¯t a very strong sorcerer, so her break event was not as powerful. Or,¡± Frank glanced toward Marie¡¯s chest, ¡°it could be that illegal blood magic tattoo you have over your heart.¡± ¡°Um. Yeah.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t ask to see it again. But, I will ask, where did you get it, and why?¡± Marie felt a tightness in her throat. Her Mama had told her to never reveal the tattoo. When bathing publicly, she covered it with an alchemically applied bandage. But the tightness was also literal constriction. She considered her response carefully. ¡°When I was six, I swore an oath not to talk about it unless with its creator, a healer, or Lord Morrow.¡± Marie finally replied. ¡°And an underage blood oath. Or, a curse? ¡­ This gets better and better.¡± ¡°Please. Don¡¯t. I was ¡­ ¡± Marie pushed as hard as she dared against the compulsion, but her heart began racing, and she couldn¡¯t say anything more. She couldn¡¯t talk about the bargain at all. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡°That¡¯s going to be a problem to solve.¡± ¡°It¡¯s nothing!¡± Marie protested. ¡°I think you know better than that.¡± Poe¡¯s mismatched eyes felt like they saw straight through her. Marie felt the tears coming back. What would Poe do about the magic? She felt like, if she could just be reassured that she hadn¡¯t lost her place, she¡¯d not be the sickly little girl her whole life. She tentatively reached her hand to touch him, but then she realized, even though he did not move, Poe flinched. He was still reluctant to touch her; even her hand. Instead of asking, she drew her hand back into her lap, and she looked down at it. It didn¡¯t seem right that all the pain and scrapes were gone, without even a scar. All those bad things were wiped entirely away. But it happened, and she¡¯d worked so hard, then for it to fall apart because of something that wasn¡¯t her fault at all? ¡°Poe. You won¡¯t stop teaching me, will you?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous. Of course I¡¯ll keep teaching you. You¡¯re a natural talent, and you saved me. I just hope you¡¯re not too angry at me for not getting to you in the cellar.¡± Poe had changed the subject subtly; Marie appreciated the effort. She looked up at is mismatched eyes. ¡°I was, but you did save me when it counted.¡± ¡°Then we save each other.¡± Poe smiled and shrugged. ¡°Uh. Let¡¯s not get carried away.¡± Poe laughed, and Marie found herself smiling. Marie then wondered, ¡®How much will this cost? Poe seems rich, but how rich exactly? Could he afford the healing and the room? Surely he could, but Marie was close to death. The Stags would make them pay, or at least, if they were anything like the Morrows, they would try to make Poe pay as much as they could. Better yet, they¡¯d try to get him in debt.¡¯ ¡°Is this going to be expensive?¡± She asked aloud. ¡°Probably. But, I have something they want, and I¡¯m feeling generous toward their organization.¡± Marie wondered what Poe planned to barter, then she wondered about what was next. She must have worried him when she¡¯d been captured. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Poe. I didn¡¯t meant to ¡­¡± ¡°You may have made a mistake, but it was made form concern for your friend; how could I possibly criticize that? We both could have been better prepared, and next time, we will be.¡± Marie nodded. ¡°So, let¡¯s get some more sleep?¡± Poe asked hopefully.Marie could admit that he did look a little tired. But she had been awake for over an hour, and its would be entirely wrong to sleep when the sun would be up in just a short while. ¡°But, I¡¯m not sleepy! The day has just started.¡± ¡°Well, seeing as how we nearly died, how about food?¡± ¡°And a soaking bath?¡± Frank nodded. ¡°But, we¡¯ll need to get clothes, and settle up here. Let¡¯s see what we can do.¡± Technically, their requests still came early in the day. The kitchens had only just started serving a breakfast of oat gruel with savory meat bits to rooming guests for no additional charge. Poe managed, however, to discover the Stag¡¯s kitchens would make a poached egg with butter and salt on rice if he paid extra. Marie was not nearly so picky. She ordered breakfast from the room service, and she asked about a replacement dress. After being directed to the concierge service, she eventually found that the Stag would send out for a new dress if she liked, but it sounded like it would cost an handful of gold. For that much money she could have bought fabric, thread, and tools enough to sew five dresses. ¡°Just have them charge it to the room.¡± Poe suggested. ¡°I¡¯ll cover it when I discuss payment with the Stags.¡± ¡°It¡¯s too much.¡± Marie responded. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. We won¡¯t be paying with money.¡± The dress did arrive promptly, and it had been fitted to her measurements perfectly. It arrived with a smartly dress concierge.Marie opened the dress¡¯s box, pulled away the paper, and revealed it with flourish. She saw it, and wrinkled her brow. Withdrawing it, if anything, made it worse. The dress was pale lemon color with white lace trim, puffy sleeves, and a layered skirt made of white and yellow fabrics. Marie instantly hated it. ¡°That dress isn¡¯t your preferred style, is it?¡± Poe observed. ¡°We can do better. Wear it for now, and we¡¯ll get you a proper black dress later.¡± After changing into the dress in the washroom and reviewing the outfit in the mirror, Marie decided hate was inadequate. She despised the dress. The dress had an entirely useless a ribbon waistband with a bow. The puffy sleeves failed to extend at her wrists, instead ending midway down her forearms. A flimsy shawl was meant to drape artfully over her shoulders. The flouncy skirt ended above the knee, which was fine, but she didn¡¯t have tall boots to wear or leggings. The soft leather ¡°shoes¡± were little more than dainty slippers, which meant they would soak through if they even looked at a puddle of water. Marie could see her knees! The entire outfit made her look like a child. Not even a healthy child, but a sickly spoiled child of a crown family that neither knew work nor hardship. Her black hair made the dress seem even more stunningly unflattering. She almost put the ugly healer tunic back on. Scowling, but still wearing the dress, she returned to the main room. Poe sat by the fire, cleaning his pipe with a twist of paper. When he looked up at her expression, he immediately turned his face away, and Marie saw his shoulders shaking a little bit. ¡°Go ahead. Laugh.¡± ¡°Not at all.¡± Poe gasped. ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± When he turned back toward her, only the very hint of a smile danced at the edges of his lips. ¡°Oh, and the Stags brought your things. I have them in my coat pockets.¡± ¡°My conduit?¡± ¡°Its safe, don¡¯t worry. Let¡¯s gather up what we have, and negotiate our bill..¡± Poe said, still smiling. Marie smiled back, but she had a bad feeling. ¡®What does he mean, negotiate?¡¯ They gathered their things and headed for the office to settle-up on their stay at the Verdant Stag. Chapter 26: A Civic-Minded Institution Frank Poe Month 12, Day 8, 10:30 AM In the windowless darkened office, sitting at an enormous desk, the imposing figure of Lord Stag himself contemplated Frank and Marie. Standing at Lord Stag¡¯s right shoulder was the redheaded woman that Frank had met before.An enforcer blocked the door way out. Standing in front of the desk, Frank had a sorcerer¡¯s certainty that he appeared calm. He was not. In part, his upset was Marie. Not that he faulted her for anything, but because she attended this meeting with him. He would never have have brought a young teenager with him into this situation, but she stood next to him in front of the masked enemy of the Morrows. Frank had invited her along to meet the ¡°manager¡± because he expected to meet the woman. They would have been in no real danger. But. He and Marie were brought to Lord Stag¡¯s office instead. A wrong step here might become a dire problem. Frank kept his breathing steady and tried to prevent any tells. Lord Stag¡¯s office had dark wood panelling, spotless plush velvet chairs, a huge throne-like desk chair, and a desk made of wood so dark it appeared almost black. The desk¡¯s maker had not resorted to the cheap ebonizing that Marie¡¯s table had. This wood came from slow growing trees, imported from far away jungles, and was worked into an exquisite display of wealth. Nor did this office elevate a single custom piece to prominence; there were no second-hand bookshelves or mismatching couches here. Everything fit the room perfectly, and the furniture lacked even a speck of dust or a errant hair. On the desk, a quill pen and a stack of clean paper were ready for Lord Stag¡¯s use. The massive chair behind Lord Stag¡¯s desk had a great tall back that suggested the qualities of a throne. The room reminded Poe of a banker¡¯s office, rather than that of a criminal mastermind. Or, perhaps, that was point: a successful criminal mastermind ought to have a touch of opulence. And, like a banker, petitioners come before their betters to request the favor of their time and money. Even as imposing as the room itself, Lord Stag sat in his chair, elbows on the desk, and his gloved hands steepled and touching the chin of his entirely featureless white mask. He concealed the rest of his features under a great black cloak with a grey lining. Frank couldn¡¯t even entirely sure of the color of his hair. ¡°Frank Poe. And protege.¡±Lord Stag observed. The mask seemed to have changed and muffled his voice. His voice had slightly eerie presence. ¡°Welcome.¡± ¡°Lord Stag.¡± Frank replied. He kept his face carefully blank. Lord Stag offered no handshake. Nor did Frank intend to sit in either of the two chairs that sat in front of the desk. He itched to draw out his pipe: both for a smoke to ease his sudden headache, and to be ready for the unexpected. Obviously the enforcer knew his business. Without magic, Frank wouldn¡¯t last half a moment. In fact, even if Frank prepared, the man at the door had an air of danger that even Dinky couldn¡¯t match. Frank settled for standing, which he knew was rude. But then, Lord Stag was playing games, and Frank had not fallen quite so far that he would let Lord Stag have that much control. Marie, thankfully, followed his lead, keeping Frank between her and Lord Stag¡¯s enforcer. ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to finally meet our local private detective. You¡¯ve met Katerine?¡± Frank nodded. She may not have given her name, but Frank recognized her. ¡°It seems you had need of our services here at the Verdant Stag yesterday.¡± Lord Stag said. ¡°It seems I did.¡± Frank replied stiffly. ¡°I hope you aren¡¯t anxious, Mr. Poe. I prefer not to make enemies unnecessarily. The city is not so big that I can afford to have too many of them.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll just settle the tab, and be on our way.¡± ¡°It¡¯s quite a lot of money.¡± Katerin replied. ¡°I don¡¯t need a loan, if that¡¯s what you are suggesting.¡± ¡°Of course. But, I suspect you don¡¯t have the gold in your possession at the moment.¡± She said. Lord Stag tilted his head slightly. Frank shrugged. He didn¡¯t carry gold with him, but he could withdraw the money from his accounts. Gold had been difficult to replenish recently, but he would have clients. Eventually. He did not worry. Much. ¡°We could accept your word on payment. You are a successful detective, with many clients. Including the coppers?¡± Lord Stag continued. ¡°Sure.¡± Frank relaxed. Lord Stag seemed to believe he had leverage because of the money they would owe the Stag. True, Frank Poe did not have the great hereditary wealth of say, the Gervins. He just had what he¡¯s saved from stipend and unfortunate inheritance. But it would be more than enough to cover the Verdant Stag¡¯s bill, if it came to that. ¡°But you didn¡¯t go to the coppers for help, did you?¡± Lord Stag continued. ¡°No.¡± ¡°You came to my place instead. That suggests something about your trust in that arrangement, doesn¡¯t it?¡± In reply, Frank stayed silent. Lord Stag was more clever that Frank had given him credit for. Frank failed to call on the Coppers for help. Lord Stag therefore would guess that Frank did not trust them. Frank reckoned this was not entirely true, but it was close enough.The coppers would have alerted the Red Guard, and Frank wanted Marie as far away from them as possible. The Red Guard would find Marie¡¯s resistance to Frank¡¯s curse¡ªand now the aberrant¡¯s alluring effects¡ªinteresting. Hopefully, the healer kept the blood magic secret, but that was a third reason Frank needed to keep Marie away from the Coppers. On the other hand, Frank was friendly with Robards. The coppers did do some good work. The Crowns may be selfish and vain, but they did keep the most violent criminals off the streets, and Titus Westbay seemed like a conscientious leader. Interrogation only occasionally involved beatings. Frank¡¯s silence eventually seemed to crack Lord Stag¡¯s expectation that Frank would respond. ¡°The Morrows, despite your companion, do not seem to be helping you much either.¡± Lord Stag waved a hand toward Marie. ¡°She may be one of them, but you did not seek them out either.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s just say that the Morrows¡¯ cruelty set my course to seek fairer winds and calmer waters.¡± ¡°My representatives have asked you before, Mr. Poe. But, perhaps, now that debts are owed and favors could be exchanged, we may discuss a contract with the Verdant Stag? We could wipe the debt clean, and even put you on a retainer?¡± Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Marie squeaked. If this meeting wasn¡¯t so serious, Frank would have rolled his eyes. She liked money too much. ¡°How much?¡± she asked. ¡°Oh, say 10 gold per month, to keep the August Agency employed for necessary work. In addition to your customary fees, of course.¡± Marie snorted. At least she knew the value of Poe¡¯s services would be more costly than that. Frank, however, tried to keep a stoic expression. Lord Stag must have thought Frank was desperate. Or, perhaps he was hoping Frank would haggle. Frank reckoned he wasn¡¯t that desperate, and he had no inclination to haggle up from a lowball number. ¡°Do you want an investigator, or a sorcerer, I wonder? That is a paltry amount of money for a sorcerer; even if you are interested in my specialties, you can buy better from sorcerers at the Night Market.¡± ¡°Oh, and do you have someone in mind?¡± ¡°Liza¡¯s rates are reasonable.¡± Frank replied. ¡®Not very reasonable,¡¯ Frank thought, ¡®but reasonable compared to her actual skill.¡¯ Frank continued, ¡°My skills could hardly compete.¡± The Stags in the room tried not to react, but they reacted enough that Frank knew they recognized the name. Katerin flashed a scowl, and while Lord Stag¡¯s mask appeared inscrutable, even he leaned away a bit. This was interesting. Frank assumed underworld figures knew the woman, but not that they would be interested in hiding that relationship. ¡°Gilbratha relies on magic, both small and large.¡± Lord Stag replied mildly. ¡°In your case, the Stag could make an investment up front, as it were.¡± Even if the comment on Liza had rattled him, Lord Stag¡¯s voice showed no sign of discomfort. ¡°We don¡¯t need people of Liza¡¯s caliber for every problem that comes along. Sometimes a more subtle sorcerer might be required.¡± ¡®Like the Raven Queen?¡¯ Frank thought. Frank gave a deliberate shake of his head. ¡°I am not terribly qualified as battle mage,artificer, or potion master.¡± Frank lied. What he said might be the truth, if he compared himself to a near grandmaster or Liza, or Grandmaster Lacer¡¯s feats of free casting and output distanced spells. But he knew more than the basics in all of those disciplines; he used potion-making and artificery to set up various aspects of advanced divination in his studies at the University. And, he hadn¡¯t learned pipe-fighting because he lived a peaceful life. But that didn¡¯t matter, because he knew he was a broken sorcerer. Even a few minor spells over the last few days had stretched himself thin.¡°But, I am not offering magical services. I am a detective.¡± Lord Stag seemed to be judging something, pausing before he spoke again. ¡°You¡¯ve said. You seem the type that might still be interested in a trade. Please sit. I hope we can both benefit from a fair exchange, perhaps some information?¡± Frank finally relented and sat in one of the plush, but armless chairs, and Marie followed and sat as well. ¡°As a matter of fact, I am interested in a deal. Your subordinate seems to think I have some information on the Raven Queen¡¯s father.¡± ¡°Do you?¡± Lord Stag asked. ¡°Not at the time; but now, we may be able to do business. I obtained some information because I agreed to investigate the Raven Queen on behalf of the Coppers. It is not an ongoing obligation; I merely get the reward if my information leads to her arrest. But I also made an oath to get access. My oath does not let me share details with people that are not cooperating with the Coppers. Would you be willing to tell me that you¡¯ll assist the Coppers on occasion? Think carefully before you answer.¡± Lord Stag must have stared quite hard at Frank through that expressionless mask. Frank could almost feel the man¡¯s eyes boring into him. ¡°The Verdant Stag is a civic-minded institution.¡± Lord Stag finally replied. ¡°We help them on occasion even now. After all, just yesterday we sent a runner to the Coppers when we heard about a dangerous aberrant.¡± Frank thought about the information he would reveal, to see whether he felt any restraint from the oath. It seemed fine. As he suspected, the oath was very manipulable. ¡°Clear our debt, and I share what I know about Ennis Naught. Also, I¡¯d prefer that you¡¯d give Professor Lacer a fair hearing if he ever comes to you asking to pass on a message to the Raven Queen. I suspect you can do this?¡± ¡°Thaddeus Lacer?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Frank gave a small smile. A little consideration for Professor Lacer would make the professor happy, and hopefully asking for this favor would give Frank some credibility with Lord Stag as well. Frank had not been good with connections, but absolute independence seemed overrated after all. His mind flashed to that moment on the dark street when his desperation had driven him here, Marie dying in his arms. He wasn¡¯t even certain that the Stags would have helped, and he felt lucky they had. It might also have been a symptom of the paranoia from will strain. He surely could have found an independent healer if he¡¯d run in the correct direction, and Poe reckoned in the light of day that the Morrows did view Marie as of their own. Lord Stag gave a slow nod, showing his agreement to bargain. Frank nodded back. ¡°Let¡¯s lay this out clearly: I am trading straightforward information: ¡®What is Ennis Naught telling the Coppers in Harrow Hill?¡¯ in exchange, the Stags clear our debt, and keep any part of what you learned here including my apprentice¡¯s unique situation confidential. Do we have a bargain?¡± Frank explained. ¡°How will we remember it?¡± Katherine asked. ¡°Easy. We¡¯ll write it down.¡± Frank replied. ¡°He means I¡¯ll write it down.¡± Marie muttered. ¡°If you are willing to go on a retainer ¡­¡± Lord Stag began. Frank held up a hand to stop Lord Stag¡¯s tack to that subject. ¡°Respectfully, I¡¯ll not fly an ensign for you Lord Stag. But, I will consider investigative work, if you ever need it.¡± ¡°You have your pride I see. This is acceptable, for now.¡± Frank had Marie write out the agreement, then they all sat around the desk while Frank explained the copper¡¯s information on Ennis, and Marie wrote out notes for Lord Stag and Katerine. Frank explained the information that Ennis had told the Coppers about his daughter. ¡°The interviewer¡¯s notes tend to describe him as a pawn in the Raven Queen¡¯s scheme. And, he doesn¡¯t seem to know anything useful. But, they have not been eager to have his trial; the coppers seem unwilling to give up on Ennis. The coppers seem to hope he might lead them to her involuntarily somehow.¡± Poe considered for a moment, and then decided to go ahead and express his opinion. ¡°He comes across as a rather greedy man to me: selfish and petty. He¡¯s a man who would try to get your confidence, then betray you for money or advantage. If he weren¡¯t under truth compulsion spells, I wouldn¡¯t trust anything he says. Maybe not even then, because Siobhan Naught contacted him twice. That¡¯s why the coppers won¡¯t stop questioning him.¡± Frank reckoned that sharing what he knew and his opinions about Ennis wouldn¡¯t help Siobhan Naught escape the coppers or him. Frank wasn¡¯t giving up much to tell them that Ennis didn¡¯t know anything useful. What he did not say was that the coppers were wasting their time with Siobhan¡¯s father. A petty thief and con-man, his daughter seemed to know how to keep out of the public eye, despite her flashy reputation. In fact, the Coppers knew very little about the whereabouts of the Raven Queen, and Frank didn¡¯t mind giving that information either. It was already widespread knowledge that the Raven Queen had slipped their searchers, even after sending ravens to Ennis. Even if Lord Stag¡¯s mask hid it, Frank sensed he was pleased. Frank reckoned that even if the Stags were not protecting Siobhan Naught outright, then they were invested, at least, in preventing her capture. Frank wondered idly if she was instead one of their agents, but then he concluded that if she was, she would be a dagger pointed at the heart of the Stag¡¯s enemies. ¡°Is our bargain complete?¡± Frank finished. ¡°It seems so.¡± Lord Stag replied. Frank motioned for Marie to stop writing. ¡°Good.¡± Frank hesitated, but decided to add one last thought. ¡°If I ever return here and agree to work with you, I am assuming that I¡¯ll have to let the investigation into Siobhan Naught drop?¡± ¡°You will.¡± Frank sighed. ¡°I thought so. Fair weather to you. Your medical treatment was first rate. I hope we can maintain such a friendly relationship in the future.¡± ¡°I hope so too.¡± Lord Stag murmured. ¡­ After Frank and Marie had left the room, and Huntley had shut the door firmly, activating the privacy wards, Oliver turned to Katerin. ¡°Try to keep an eye on the August Agency. Mr. Poe by himself doesn¡¯t seem like much of a threat, but looks, as we know, can be deceiving. Even if the girl has been affiliated with the Morrows, he¡¯s no friend of theirs, and we might be able to use that. Provided we can keep him looking away from us and Siobhan.¡± Chapter 27: A New Dress Marie Month 12, Day 8, 1:30 PM When they left the Stag, Marie made changing out of the lemon-dyed dress her priority. She felt irritated that she¡¯d end up walking on the street, where people might see her. Suffering a long walk in this yellow thing would have been unbearable. ¡®This dress is so bright it ought to be against the law to sell it. Who thinks a yellow dress is a good idea?¡¯ Marie thought. ¡®Are the Stags trying to make me look bad? The Stags wouldn¡¯t be that petty. Would they?¡¯ Thankfully, Frank hired a carriage to take them back to the office; although, it had a small, but noticeable, pair of green antlers painted just near the driver¡¯s seat. In the carriage Marie realized she still had a lot of questions after the meeting with Lord Stag.Marie found him disturbing; no one should go around hidden behind a mask. Was he disfigured? Or just private? At least people knew who Lord Morrow was. ¡°Poe, ¡­ Master Poe, are you going to be friendly to the Stags now?¡± Marie asked. ¡°No. But, I do not plan on continuing to antagonize them ¡­ directly.¡± ¡°So, what does that mean?¡± Poe leaned back in the seat. He raised an eyebrow. ¡°You aren¡¯t going to stop investigating the Raven Queen?¡± ¡°Technically, I just have to let Professor Lacer know what I need to, and the apprentice girl, and then it¡¯s over. The Stags definitely know how to reach Siobhan Naught, and that is that.¡± Marie had a suspicion though, because Poe had a look. ¡°But, it won¡¯t be.¡± Marie observed. ¡°Don¡¯t you want to know? The truth behind the stories? Find out what¡¯s so important about the book she stole?¡± Marie thought about that. Could the Raven Queen really travel through shadows? Was she really able to form ravens from shadows and spin nightmares into shape? ¡°A little.¡± Marie replied. ¡°Me too. It would be easier to just tell Lacer what we know and be done with it but ¡­ The Raven Queen is an enigma.¡± ¡°Engima means ¡­powerful?¡± ¡°Puzzle. It¡¯s another word for puzzle.¡± Poe smiled, but it seemed brittle. Millie Parker¡¯s transformation puzzled Marie as well. Millie¡¯s powers didn¡¯t seem to follow any of the rules of magic. Even if her body was her conduit, what was the source of the power? Why did she lose her mind, but still seem to have motives? Why was Marie immune? How had he lost control of the magic that badly? Poe told Marie about will strain, now that Marie experienced it, she understood him better. ¡°Magic is not safe.¡± Marie whispered. Poe leaned forward and got Marie¡¯s attention. ¡°Do you know why sorcerers still do magic?¡± Poe asked. Marie shrugged. ¡°Living isn¡¯t safe. It¡¯s unreasonably dangerous to live, and eventually, living will kill you. Practicing sorcery is living; so, if I¡¯m given a choice between living and dying ¡­ I choose life. Actually, after the day we¡¯re having, I may be choosing tea and a good supper.¡± ¡°And, a bath?¡± Marie said. She felt grimy, even in her new clothes. And her head hurt. Although that seemed to be a minor upset compared to how tired she was. ¡°That too! Although we should head up the hill and bathe properly? yes?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± ¡°And fix that dress?¡± Poe continued; Marie definitely agreed with that! Poe¡¯s expression turned thoughtful. ¡°Hmm. I am thinking you need better protection besides.¡± ¡°Oh, and Mama will be worried!¡± Marie realized that she hadn¡¯t visited Mama. Frank agreed, and suggested that they send a note. But, they did not need to send a note, because when the arrived at the Agency, they found a boy sleeping in the Agency¡¯s doorway. Connor, a boy helping Mama in the laundry. As soon as Poe stepped out of the carriage, Poe recognized him immediately. ¡°Boy, why are out here sleeping and not back at the parlor?¡± Poe asked. ¡°Begging your pardon sir, but Mama Stella sent me to find Marie.¡± Conner replied. ¡°She didn¡¯t come visit this morning, and what with the Coppers everywhere and Dinky disappearing, she had me sneak out and see if I could find you.¡± ¡°Coppers?¡± Frank asked sharply. ¡°Uh, yes sir. Millie did some sort of blood magic and everyone got rounded up by the Red Guard and the Coppers to sort out if there were any unlicensed practitioners at the parlor.¡± Poe paled slightly, but he barely paused before he responded. ¡°Tell Stella that we found a shelter when the alarms sounded and that Marie is fine, but we will be busy few days, and we¡¯ll visit when work here at the agency calms down.¡± ¡°Uh, is that right?¡± Connor asked Marie. It took her a moment to realize what Poe was doing. If Connor gave that explanation to Mama, Mama wouldn¡¯t know about their role in fighting Millie Parker, and the coppers wouldn¡¯t realize that Mama¡¯s story would not be entirely true. ¡°Yes, Connor. Tell her I love her. I won¡¯t be able to visit for at least a few days. But, she can tell me all about Millie when she can get free to visit us here at the Agency. ¡± ¡°Uh, but aren¡¯t you supposed to ¡­?¡± ¡°Connor, I¡¯m sure Mama would understand; I look forward to her visit when she is free.¡± Marie glowered at him. Connor wasn¡¯t that dumb, but he always was a little slower on the uptake. ¡®Boys!¡¯ She thought. Mama should realize that Marie couldn¡¯t visit with all the Coppers around. ¡°Ok?¡± Conner replied. Marie shooed him away, and he walked back toward the Hands, Hearts, and Palms. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Poe paid the carriage driver to wait for them while they collected their toilette for bathing. Marie changed into one of her black dresses and ruana cloak with the new cloak pin, but Poe asked that she bring the yellow monstrosity with them. She still did not have decent shoes. Poe also asked her to leave her conduit, knife, and other components behind. Marie nearly argued with him, but he pointed out that she couldn¡¯t get caught with these things if the Coppers questioned her. While unlikely, Marie could not excuse that risk, and Poe would accompany her the entire time. They took the carriage ¡°up the hill¡± out of the Mires and into the finer neighborhoods in the shadow of the wall. Eventually, Marie found herself freshly showered and soaking in a great cedar tub in a bathhouse at the base of the wall under the University. Poe selected a smaller private bathhouse, rather than the Crowns-run bath with the big pools. The establishment provided private bathing rooms rentable by the hour. So early in the day, they had their pick of rooms. The attendant showed Marie the clever heating arrays to set the temperature of the water to perfection and the arrays that could clear the water for multiple soaks in different soaps and sweet-smelling salts. One attendant even offered a magical hair treatment and dye, which, with Poe¡¯s permission, Marie accepted. After she¡¯d showered, she was shown to a glossy black stone with an array designed for the purpose. Her hair came out as black as a raven¡¯s wing, and the apprentice told her the color would not fade or wash out. Apparently, trivial magic like this could be found near the University with ease. Poe also sent her yellow dress away and it came back with the yellow portions black, and the white trim parts a satin midnight, the bow removed, and pockets added. To Marie, it might have been the most beautiful black dress she¡¯d ever seen, which shocked her because the dress started from that ugly yellow and white. ¡®Sometimes a simple change is all you need to make a big difference in appearance!¡¯ She thought. She also considered, briefly, rushing her bath, just so that she could put it on. But, instead, she soaked and wondered: when had she last owned a brand new dress? Sitting in the tub up to her neck in purple jasmine bubbles, Marie¡¯s thoughts also turned to the that dark cellar. Frigg had come to her. How could a raven know, in advance, that Marie would need the key? How had Frigg known to bring it? Marie had to consider; was Poe really the best non-prognos diviner in the city, or had he merely found the best oracle? Dinky worried her too. During the escape, she had not recognized anyone. She knew that Dinky ended up obsessed over for the aberrant just like everyone else, even Poe. Although Poe explained it to her that morning, she felt a little annoyed that so many had been taken. She also worried that Dinky survived ok, and that the Coppers and Red Guard would let him go. Marie also felt as if even she¡¯d packed in a week of life into just two days. Poe told her that the Red Guard would be done with the victims in a day or two, but the incident was only a day old. The water felt nice, but eventually, Marie needed to leave the tub. The bath left her feeling refreshed in a way she hadn¡¯t been for weeks. She dressed in her new clothes, applied her black makeup and nail laquer, and reluctantly wore a pair of long black socks with the horrible ¡°shoes.¡± When she finally left her curtained room, she found Poe sat in the reception area in a clean pink and dark purple suit decorated with flower prints; he¡¯d folded his koi overcoat in his lap. He¡¯d found a newspaper, and he glanced up when Marie arrived. ¡°The dress¡¯s color suits you?¡± Poe asked. Marie smiled at him. ¡°It¡¯s great. I can¡¯t believe it was that awful yellow. You should try black, it would look good on you.¡± ¡°What makes you think I haven¡¯t?¡± Poe asked rhetorically. Poe lifted the paper and pointed. ¡°The aberrant has made the afternoon papers. Nothing to worry about.¡± He passed her the paper. Marie read the article, then scowled.Marie read the scant few lines about how Millie had sought out blood magics to make more money from her clients. The article used words like ¡°depraved¡± and ¡°degenerate.¡±The Coppers featured prominently in uncovering the aberrant ¡°early¡± and the Red Guard acting to protect everyone with ¡°minimal¡± casualties. ¡°This ¡­ is lies. Millie was kind and sad, not depraved and greedy. She made do, like everyone!¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t know her, so I do not have an opinion on her character. However, some matters aren¡¯t about truth.¡± Poe quietly replied. ¡°Reckless thaumaturges, like reckless sailors, eventually capsize. I should know.¡± Poe held out a hand for the paper, and after Marie handed it back, he folded it dropped it in a rack by the door. ¡°But, perhaps most importantly, whether the spell was dangerous blood magic or not, Millie is beyond being hurt by a newspaper¡¯s libel now.¡± ¡°But.¡± Marie hated that her anger made it seem like she was a petulant child. Millie was ¡­ flawed. But she was also her friend. Marie sighed. Poe frowned sadly, and then stood up with a more and tried a cheerful tone. ¡°Let¡¯s get something to eat. There is a restaurant not far from her that I enjoyed as a student. How do you feel about fish?¡± Marie smiled and pretended she liked fish, so Poe hired another carriage, and they set out for a restaurant specializing in seafood. Not far from the city¡¯s fish markets, a dim building served a variety of customers in a room with paper lantern lights. A table of sailors ate with quiet intensity at several tables, and one group of boisterous students laughed at a red-faced young man who seemed to have taking an oversized bite. After Poe ordered, and in almost no time at all, servers brought out steaming pot containing vegetables, mushrooms, three kinds of shellfish, gulf fish, and orange colored spices. Poe and Marie receivedgenerous bowls of rice. Marie looked at the violently orange stew skeptically. Poe explained that they should scoop the stew onto the rice and eat from that bowl. ¡°What is this called?¡± ¡°Numbing-Stew. This is the fish version, but it also comes in versions using meats and all vegetables.¡± Poe¡¯s lips curled into an evil smile and his eyes danced.¡°You like spicy?¡± ¡°Uh. Sure!¡± Marie would maintain a positive mental attitude. ¡°Good! If this isn¡¯t spicy enough for you, there¡¯s a demon-pepper sauce in that jar there.¡± Poe began scooping over his bowl of rice. Marie tried it. At first, she thought it was just ¡­ hot? She was so hungry, the balance of spicy and savory seemed to make it more interesting. And the stew was objectively tasty. The fish had a soft and flavorful texture. Then, somewhere in her second helping, she just realized that with every bite, the spicy flavor just kept getting stronger. After, she finished it, she wiped her lips with a napkin, and ¡­ ¡°Poe. This is too much. I can¡¯t feel my mouth. This is ¡­ hot. It¡¯s hot! It burns!¡± Poe was onto his third bowl, and he looked up and grinned. ¡°Good, right? If its too much though, try that blue tea.¡± Marie grabbed the cold blue tea and sipped it, trying to cool her mouth. Remarkably, it did cool the spice down. Marie sighed in relief. ¡°I can¡¯t believe it.¡± Marie laughed at the cooling sensation, and feeling came back to her mouth. ¡°What sort of torture food is this?¡± Still, Marie ate another bowl before she was finished. With the cure to the spicy concoction at hand, Marie found she could eat quite a lot of it. As they finished, they ate less and talked more. ¡°The tea is just for people who aren¡¯t used to the spice.¡± Poe smiled as he remembered. ¡°When I was a student, I took a dare to eat an entire pot of this stuff with no liquid relief. While I didn¡¯t manage it, I developed a taste for it. My friend ¡­¡± And Poe¡¯s smile faded. ¡°Never mind that. We¡¯re going to try to eat better.¡± ¡°I like it, but, can it not be ¡­ as spicy?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure they¡¯ll make it less spicy here, and I can¡¯t make this at the Agency anyway. But, we can put together something tasty that with high protein and calories to try to get you to a healthier weight. And, possibly some exercise to improve your physical condition. How do you feel about running?¡± Marie didn¡¯t want to discourage Poe, but she knew that running wouldn¡¯t work. ¡°It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t want to, its just that my heart ¡­ it¡¯s not fixed exactly. I can¡¯t run very far or very fast.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll do progressive strength exercises then, and I¡¯ll teach you some proper self-defense. No more knives. At least until you are ready for them.¡± Marie reluctantly agreed. ¡°But, tonight we sleep.Tomorrow we try to talk to Professor Lacer, and maybe that apprentice.¡± ¡°And ¡­ new boots?¡± Marie asked hopefully. ¡°New boots.¡± Poe agreed. Chapter 28: Reporting to the Clients Marie Month 12, Day 9, Wednesday, 7:00 AM Poe never woke early. Or, at least, Marie never thought Poe woke early. Except this morning, he knocked on her door even as she was just putting on her shoes. ¡°Good morning Marie!¡± Poe chirped. Despite his tone, he looked slightly manic, with dark fatigue under his eyes.. ¡°Uh, good morning?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s head up to the University. I have a good feeling about our chances of meeting Professor Lacer and discussing the progress on the investigation.¡± ¡°Uh, this early?¡± Marie was surprised. ¡°How are you ¡­¡± ¡°Awake? Didn¡¯t sleep.¡± Poe replied. ¡°Ah.¡± ¡°I found a book on physical exercise, and I¡¯ve prepared a physical self defense course; I¡¯m thinking some stick fighting, because you are too small to do much damage with much of anything.¡± Marie winced. ¡°Did you stay awake all night for that?¡± ¡°Couldn¡¯t sleep. I¡¯ll take a nap in a few hours. You¡¯ll want your cloak; let¡¯s go eat!¡± Marie put on her cloak with her garnet cloak pin and followed Poe out of the August Agency into the city. Some long wool socks kept her calves from freezing, but she again wished for her boots. They found a street vender selling a spicy beans and rice concoction wrapped in a flat bread and then hired a carriage to head up the hill to the University. Marie had seen the magical elevators before, but she¡¯d never ridden in them. There seemed to be an impossibly long winding stair that they could have used. Poe, however, had no trouble getting permission to ride the elevators. He showed some sort of token, which Marie guessed proved his status as a journeyman graduate, and they were ushered into one of the lifts in exchange for some money. When they reached the top they found a guarded iron gate. Poe did stop for long enough to allow Marie to gaze, somewhat open-mouthed, at the city that spread out below the cliffs from the entrance to the University. Close to cliffs, and across the gulf, were the grand homes of the wealthy and the parklands reserved for the privileged. Father away, and into the Mires, Marie could see the factories and workshops nestled along the the canals, the grey homes and shacks become less attractive the farther away one lived from the heart of Gilbratha. ¡°The city looks bigger from up here than I even imagined.¡± Marie told Poe. She tried, and somewhat failed, to sound like a mature observer. The view thrilled her on a level she¡¯d never experienced before. So far up, everything smelt clear and fresh. Marie decided that the people living on the great plateaus surrounding the city must imagine that nothing could touch them. The University and the Palace looked down on all the tiny, inconsequential, people below. She tried to imagine what it would be like to be one of these few. This was Poe¡¯s plan for her? She wasn¡¯t noble. How would she ever relate to these people? ¡°Is this what it feels like to be untouchable?¡± Marie asked. ¡°The University has placed itself above everyone that it could, but it is not untouchable. The food comes from the city¡¯s farms. The books printed in city book presses. The cerelium from mines in the countryside. The trade goods from the docks. The fish from the gulf. The magical components from the rest of the world.¡± Poe paused. ¡°If the University did not represent the greatest collection of magical knowledge in the world, it would be abandoned for its ruinous expense.¡± Poe stopped in a small building by the gate; he persuaded the security with deft explanation and managed to get two temporary passes. Marie had only ever seen the University at a distance. There were round towers, a massive library, and plenty of elaborate buildings. The white stone of the University Building, towering seven stories over the campus, glowed with reflected pink and gold in the morning light. But, what stood out to Marie were the trees. Down in the city, a tree might struggle for light in some hidden courtyard, or there might be a few on the grounds of a wealthy manse, but here trees grew in great plenty, isolating the buildings from each other and the world. There were parks, of course, but those weren¡¯t for people like her. These trees, however, just grew, unconstricted by street boxes or grates. Marie had heard stories of forests, but she had never seen one before. Here was the closest to a forest that she¡¯d ever encountered, surrounded by a green carpet of grass that showed some signs of brief snowfall in the shady places near the the tree trunks and beneath evergreen boughs. Cold wind blew through even the sheltering trees, and Marie tucked her arms under her ruana. Poe lead them into this seeming artificial forest; Marie could see the shapes of small cottages hidden among the trees. Eventually, they reached the front door of one of them. When Poe came to its door, he knocked politely. He tucked his hands into outer pockets of his koi-coat. Shortly, the familiar long-haired professor opened the door. Poe cut through any niceties immediately. ¡°I have a report for you on your request; may I come in?¡± Professor Lacer scowled slightly. ¡°I suppose you want coffee?¡± ¡°No need to go to the trouble, Grandmaster, I¡¯m sure you have classes to prepare for.¡± ¡°Hmm. Yes, I was preparing my lecture on transmutation and transmogrification.¡± ¡°The turtle-egg demonstration? I enjoyed that one.¡± ¡°Sorry, what are you talking about?¡± Marie asked. ¡°The theory of practical sorcery holds that transmutation converts natural forms or energy, and transmogrification borrows from concepts to create a magical effect.¡± Poe replied. ¡°Grandmaster Lacer¡¯s demonstration shows that many magical effects use both. You needn¡¯t worry about it for now.¡± ¡°I suppose your report includes lecturing your student on my lessons?¡± Grandmaster Lacer said blandly. ¡°I am awake early to receive the delivery at my classroom this morning.¡± ¡°To your commission then. I¡¯ve found two ways to reach Siobhan Naught. The first is obvious: contact Lord Stag.¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°He must know her or how to contact her. But, he is interested in keeping the Raven Queen¡¯s secrets, and he wears a mask at all times. So.¡± Grandmaster Lacer frowned. ¡°Very well. The second method?¡± ¡°You have been consulting with the coppers, and they have an interesting piece of information. You might acquire something that Siobhan Naught desires. You are aware of the Gervins?¡± ¡°Of course. The Gervin¡¯s presumptive heir is in my class.¡± ¡°Someone in the Gervin family has attempted to barter with Ennis Naught for the book.¡± ¡°Did they?¡± Lacer smirked a bit. ¡°It might have been unremarkable except ¡­ Siobhan Naught asked Ennis for a conduit housed in an heirloom ring. Ennis used the ring to negotiate his freedom in exchange for offering his daughter¡¯s hand in marriage to a Gervin; the ring was supposed to be a dowery, like some old farmer trading a cow.¡± Marie noticed that neither Poe or Lacer seemed happy at this behavior. A traditional dower was out of favor, but it would have been especially insulting to a sorcerer of the Raven Queen¡¯s cleverness and power. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll see more about it in the copper¡¯s files, should you read them yourself.¡± Poe continued. ¡°But, you could acquire the ring. If the Raven Queen has a method to locate it, that would be another method to contact her.¡± The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Any other possibilities? These seem unlikely methods.¡± ¡°I planned to determine if she has made a direct contact with the magical underworld. There¡¯s a black-market trade in information, magic, and components. But, that might take weeks. Short term, I might only be able to pass a message, if I am lucky.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not interested in passing a message, but if you can contact her, I¡¯d be interested in what you learn. Do you need money for bribes?¡± ¡°Bribes? An amateur might try that, but no one in this group would be willing or interested in going up against a blood sorcerer like the Raven Queen. If money swayed them, the copper¡¯s reward would be enough. We¡¯re talking about unlicensed witches and tax evaders, not magical crime lords.¡± Grandmaster Lacer nodded. Marie noticed that he remained largely unreadable, but still seemed pleased. He wrote Poe a draft of some kind, to be drawn at a bank in the city. When he handed the draft to Poe, Grandmaster Lacer offered one more comment. ¡°I thought you might not come back from the accident. It seems, however, that you recovered. I¡¯ll allow you return return to my class, if you decide to enroll. You were only a few semesters from completing your mastery; your capacity was already sufficient I believe?¡± Marie thought Poe looked a little sick. ¡°There¡¯s not much point in that now. I am an investigator. That will be good enough.¡± Grandmaster Lacer nodded slowly. ¡°I am aware enough of the details; if you need, you may consult me. The Red Guard¡¯s vow won¡¯t apply.¡± ¡°Thank you, Professor. Perhaps in a few years, if the curse ¡­ anyway. Thank you. We will let the you know if we find a reliable way to make contact with the Raven Queen.¡± Lacer showed them out. On their way back out through the copse of trees, Marie thought Poe seemed especially quiet. He walked slowly, and Marie did not have trouble keeping up. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you could come back.¡± Marie said. ¡°I could, but I won¡¯t.¡± Marie thought about that as they walked. Marie took in the rattling branches in the trees, while the sun shown down through their branches. The air felt crisp and the wind blew softly in the trees like a whisper. Students were traveling the park-like campus with their satchels and papers, moving from the dorms to the main building. They looked clean, with stylish clothes, and purposeful expressions. Determined. When Marie looked at Poe, she realized how young he must be. How long ago had he been a student? Marie had imagined he¡¯d been an investigator for years, but while the August Agency¡¯s building, and some furniture¡ªlike the couches¡ªshowed signs of wear and age, his books and desk must have been less than a year old. Her own black table was practically new. ¡°Could you be a full Master, if you wanted?¡± Poe made a noncommittal noise, but he did not answer Marie¡¯s question. As they emerged among a cluster of large buildings, Poe left Marie to wait on a bench and he left to send a message. She sat and watched the students, hurrying about, laughing, and among their friends. Some of them might have watched her back, a little, but none tried to accuse her of being the Raven Queen, although one blonde watery-eyed boy slowed near her. Following not far behind him, she saw one well-dressed group of younger students that caught her eye. A fashionably dressed, brown-haired and blue-eye young man, a blonde young woman with similarly pale blue eyes but dressed in a suit more commonly worn by men, and one more: a tall young man with light pale skin, pale blonde hair, and black eyes. Eyes very much like her own black-brown. Eyes like the Raven Queen, whose black hair and eyes lead to so much confusion. ¡°Silverling, will you be passing on pointers to us in Burberry¡¯s class?¡± The brown-haired fellow said to the blond young man. ¡°Westbay,¡± the young black-eyed man replied, ¡°if you¡¯re inadequately attentive on your own, you can hardly expect me to make up the difference for you.¡± Marie figured that¡ªwhile the remark seemed scathing¡ªSilverling hadn¡¯t put any real contempt behind it. And, while Silverling remained quiet, the other two chattered on, as they walked past Marie. Marie surreptitiously watched them as they walked off into the main building. Marie had never heard the name Silverling, but she knew Westbay. The Westbays controlled the Coppers. Was this the sort of people that went to the University? The scions of Crown families and privileged elites? Did they have any idea what the city below was actually like? Seeing them reminded Marie of her real place in the world. The University trained people with mundane and magical power; the kind of power that could get her free of the Mires. She would have to work hard to catch up to people like Westbay and Silverling. She was beginning to see the shape of the debt she would owe Poe for his promise to get her into the University. No wonder her Mama worried. Poe returned with a light step, and cheerful expression. ¡°We need to speak to Canelo, and we will wait for her in the Menagerie. It¡¯s quite the fascinating place, really. Although it¡¯s also dangerous. Many of the plants¡ªand most of the animals¡ªcan kill the careless in many clever and horrible ways.¡± Poe said. ¡°Kill?¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t think magic was safe, did you?¡± Poe asked rhetorically. Poe lead them up the plateau to a what first appeared to be wild garden. But stepping on the path inside the Menagerie, Marie realized she could practically feel the magic the plants gave off. Here and there students appeared to be collecting cuttings and putting them in baskets. Marie took Poe¡¯s warning to heart and kept her hands to herself, and walked in the center of the path. ¡°There are many magical plants in the world, and even more from the elemental planes. All of them can be used in magic.¡± Poe lectured. As they walked, he pointed to seemingly random plants and explained their virtues: plants that could be used to boost spells through power, symbolism, or even to transfer their effect to potions and pills. He pointed out several bushes whose leaves and bark could be used for magical effects: aiding in sleep, accessing the deep unconscious, reducing pain, speeding healing, granting wakefulness. He pointed out a red-stemmed bush that was one of his principle ingredients in his kinninnik, and he showed her a plant with silvery leaves used to substitute for more specific elements in cooling or heating spells, depending on whether picked in summer or winter. Eventually, they reached a little out-of-the-way bridge over the stream. ¡°This is a good spot to wait.¡± Poe told her. ¡°Why?¡± Marie asked. ¡°The sound of running water metaphorically, and physically, carries the words spoken here away. This location hides deep beneath wards to protect the Menagerie. A bridge reinforces the space between things: bridges connect places, ideas, and people. Bridges sit in-between places, so travelers meet on them naturally. Practically, a bridge is often a little higher than everything around it, so observers can see if anyone is close. Canelo won¡¯t look out of place meeting us on this little footbridge, and passing a pleasant few moments of conversation where wind and water keep our words from being easily overheard.¡± And, indeed, from the top of the bridge¡¯s arc, Marie easily spotted the familiar blonde student walking briskly through the Menagerie. Canelo walked directly to the bridge, then stopped and glared at Poe. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± She asked. ¡°Your paranoia needs work. You could have done a better job looking out for spies.¡± Poe answered. He raised an eyebrow. ¡°What?¡± Canelo waved to the empty pathways around them. ¡°Hmm. We were here on other business, and I thought I¡¯d pass on a few pieces of information since you were close by.¡± ¡°If you¡¯re trying to pad your fee, I don¡¯t have any gold on me.¡± ¡°No, nothing like that.¡± Poe chuckled. ¡°I have confirmed that the Stags can reach the Raven Queen. The other information I can only share with someone cooperating with the Coppers.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± Canelo snapped. Poe glared at her for a few moments. Even Marie thought Canelo¡¯s reply especially careless compared to Lord Stag, who had at least given the impression of cooperation. ¡°Very well. There¡¯s another information source we might try.¡± ¡°Then I want to speak to them!¡± ¡°Do you really?¡± Poe replied mildly. ¡°I won¡¯t protect you from these people if you make them your enemy. We¡¯re stepping off the straight and narrow path here. You¡¯ll be required to pledge secrecy, and I can not guarantee you will even be admitted.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Canelo said through gritted teeth. ¡°I need results, and you are not providing them.¡± Poe¡¯s expression remained neutral, but Marie thought the koi shimmered a bit. ¡°I¡¯ll send you a message. Aquire a mask before you receive it. You will pay me in restricted components this time.¡± Poe gave her a ragged smile. Poe withdrew a pad from a pocket and wrote a few sentences. ¡°Do try to read this several times before you walk away. Forgetting this information would be a failure of your will.¡± When he passed her the note, Canelo seemed ready to snap at Poe, but his expression had become more stormy, and he interrupted her before she even began. ¡°Do not confuse personal power for experience.¡± Poe hissed. ¡°Many thaumaturges live in the world, and not all of them are as forgiving as the Raven Queen. You have already received a warning,¡± Poe¡¯s eyes went to Canelo¡¯s arm, ¡°be sure your ambition matches your competence. Canelo blanched slightly, then touched her wrist. ¡°It does.¡± Poe nodded slowly. As Marie watched Canelo walk away and out of the Menagerie, Marie wondered if Canelo really understood. ¡°How hard do you think it would be to follow Canelo to her dorm, or her classes?¡± Poe asked Marie. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Marie was confused, because there were only a few reasons she would follow people secretly, and she didn¡¯t think Poe had those sorts of reasons. ¡°Investigators need to be able to follow people and pry into their private affairs. Unobtrusively, of course. Notice how she¡¯s not worried about anything up here at the University? This meeting with me was to discuss a confidential matter, but she made no attempt at a privacy ward or artifact. She has no noticeable protection from divination.¡± Poe grinned. ¡°Let¡¯s say you wanted to follow her, could you? And, how would you go about it?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure I could. I would follow from a distance; everything here is very open, so I figure I can see a long way. And, if ¡­ I were dressed differently and ¡­ was taller, I could mingle with other students among the little groups that walk together. I just need to stay behind her.¡± ¡°I agree. She barely ever looks back to see if someone is following her. She needs improvement, or she¡¯s going to run into the wrong sort one day and be entirely unprepared.¡± After Canelo had been gone for a while, Poe and Marie made their way back to the gates, dropped off their guest tokens, and took the long way down via the stairs. Chapter 29: In Possession of Stolen Goods Frank Poe Month 12, Day 10, 9:00 AM On the following day, Frank still had a number of errands to run left over from the previous day. When Frank and Marie had finished their business at the University, Poe¡¯s exhaustion from lack of sleep finally caught up with him, and they returned to the August Agency for a long rest. Or rather Frank rested, and Marie studied. And, while he was able to redeem Lacer¡¯s draft in the evening, Marie was most interested in the 150 gold, which had more than made up for a few weeks of effort. Still, prospective clients hadn¡¯t filled the office yet. The August Agency had a long way to go before it would be a consistent source of income. Marie, in particular, seemed invested in the profitability of the Agency. And the first thing she wanted was the ledgers that Frank had used for the scrying. Frank dutifully handed them over, and Marie sniffed them suspiciously. ¡°Master Poe, these smell ¡­ singed. Did you attempt to burn them?¡± ¡°No. I used them in a scrying spell.¡± ¡°Oh, were you divining where our next clients would be coming from?¡± ¡°No. I was looking for you.¡± ¡°Shame. I figure we can¡¯t continue to make much money investigating the Raven Queen.¡± Marie opened the yellowed journal and a folded corner fell from the ledger onto her table. ¡°Why are my ledgers crispy?¡± ¡°Sometimes magic has inefficiencies. Components can be destroyed when drawing upon their nature.¡± ¡°In future, see if you can find a different component. Do I need to give you a lock of hair or something? That¡¯s a lot less valuable than an accurate ledger.¡± ¡°No!¡± Frank replied exasperated. ¡°Don¡¯t give your hair or nail clippings or anything to anyone! You should burn or destroy any of that be ause malicious actors can hurt you with that sort of thing. Especially blood and bandages.¡± ¡°Yuck.¡± Marie frowned. ¡°Sympathetic magic curses and similar.¡± ¡°Like?¡± ¡°Spell arrays. Or, Mommets; Dolls. Largely outlawed of course, but difficult to trace.¡± ¡°Wizards play with dolls?¡± ¡°You can¡¯t believe ¡­ you¡¯re teasing me?¡± Marie grinned. ¡°I am. I know all the old stories. Sticking poppets with needles was a curse in the Mrs. Holyoke mystery stories Madame read to me when I was small.¡± Frank sighed. ¡°Mommets are a real method of attack, but sympathetic spell arrays are clearer, more powerful, and ¡­ deadly.¡± ¡°Illegal?¡± ¡°Do you suppose that if you made the enemy of the Crown, Lord Morrow, or the Raven Queen that the illegality would stand in their way?¡± ¡°Maybe? Blood magic is punishable by death.¡± ¡°I can assure you, if someone is good enough to use your hair to hurt you, they are probably good enough not to get caught. Although there are many counters: wards, reverse scrying, artifacts, and other more esoteric defenses.¡± Marie blanched slightly. ¡°I was wondering; how did they catch Ennis?¡± ¡°They found him in a brothel. He doesn¡¯t appear to be magically talented, a bit of a ¡­ let¡¯s just say he¡¯d be the sort of man to visit Hands, Hearts, and Palms regularly.¡± ¡°This is the person that raised the Raven Queen?¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say raised, necessarily. The Raven Queen learned her magic from her Grandfather. What she learned from Ennis ¡­ I do not know.¡± ¡°Well, how did they live?¡± ¡°Ennis seems to have tricked people out of their money and they wandered quite a bit.¡± ¡°How?¡± ¡°He ¡­ huh.¡± Frank felt it before he consciously made the connection.¡°He would pretend to be someone with money or power. He¡¯d give the appearance of wealth through clothes or ¡­.¡± Frank realized there was a connection he missed. ¡®What happened to his trinkets? His clothes?¡¯ Frank thought. Frank strode away, mid-conversation, and went to his desk. He barely noticed that Marie followed him from her table. He pulled out the file, then decoded it with a slight twist of his will¡ªwincing as he did¡ªthen flopped it open over the old spell array he¡¯d yet to clean up. He skimmed the sections on Ennis again and skipped to the information about where his possessions supposedly were. ¡°They weren¡¯t in his room!¡± ¡°What does that mean?¡± Marie asked. Frank looked up at her, and smiled. ¡°Let¡¯s do some shopping!¡± ¡°Boots?¡± Marie grinned back. ¡°Sure. Also, a fire lighter, smoking box, comb, and maybe even some clothes!¡± ¡°Um?¡± ¡°I know just where we should shop too ¡­¡± Frank snatched his coat off the rack and strode out of the office with Marie practically jogging to keep up. They walked just down the street. If Marie was disappointed to return to the junk shop with the little green antlers painted in the corner of the window, she didn¡¯t show it. Unfortunately, neither of them were dressed like poor locals, so getting a bargain at the shop might be difficult. Marie¡¯s dress, after being shifted to the black, gave her an elegance and style that made her appear every inch a young scion of wealth. Frank hadn¡¯t thought about that when he¡¯d rushed out. Now how would he get a reasonable price for anything? ¡®What I need is ¡­¡¯ Frank¡¯s thoughts interrupted when he saw the glinting box through the grimy window. Frank stifled a grin. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Frank had a short conversation with Marie, and they entered the shop together. Frank paused inside to give his eyes a moment to adjust to the darker shop. He idly wondered if the dim lighting made the second-hand products more attractive. A few customers appeared to be sifting through the racks of clothes. The same shopkeeper wandered out among the shelves, with the same avarice in his eyes as last time. This time, however, Frank was ready. He walked quite near the shopkeeper but pointedly ignoring the man. Marie followed and they wandered to the displays. Frank took out a mirror that he began waving around the cases of trinkets. Frank prearranged this signal with Marie. ¡°Edward, I just don¡¯t understand, how could you lose my birthday gift? I even bought an enchanted one so that you would always know where it was.¡± Marie said. Frank felt that she did quite a good job sounding naturally like a wealthy brat. ¡°I did not lose it. It was stolen from me! My coat and everything.¡± Frank replied. ¡°But, I¡¯ll surprise that thief! I¡¯ve got the scrying mirror from the enchanter, and I¡¯m sure that its somewhere here.¡± The shopkeeper tried to look nonchalant, but his eyes told a different story. He was glancing nervously to the curtain that lead to the back of the shop.¡± ¡°There it is!¡± Frank pointed to a fancy box for smoking supplies. ¡°Sir,¡± Frank addressed the shopkeeper. ¡°You are in possession of stolen goods! I demand you turn my property over to me this instant.¡± Perhaps the shopkeeper was used to such scams, because he narrowed his eyes. But, he also was glancing anxiously at the few other customers who began to subtly listening in. But, if the man remembered Frank at all, he would be more suspicious. But, as usual, there was not even a flicker of recognition. ¡°Respectfully sir, we only receive goods here from honest sources. What proof do you have of ownership?¡± ¡°It¡¯s right there! I¡¯ve walked all over town with this enchantment to find it!¡± Frank flashed the ordinary mirror around but didn¡¯t let the man get a good look. ¡°Sir, please calm yourself. What proof do you have that this smoking box is yours?¡± ¡°If you open the lid, you will see my initials engraved on the inside. ¡®E.N.¡¯ for Edward North. Go ahead then, check! You¡¯ll see I¡¯m right.¡± Ennis had supplied a very helpful description of the box to the coppers. The shopkeeper reluctantly did so, and with a depressed sigh, showed Frank the initials. ¡°Hand it over then.¡± ¡°But sir, we paid good coin in exchange for this. We¡¯ll lose that money ¡­¡± ¡°Perhaps you can explain your stolen goods to the Coppers!¡± Frank shouted. He was really beginning to enjoy this. The customers snuck a little closer. He wanted to make sure they got a good show. Frank still reckoned that he would pay up, but he¡¯d get a discount. He was about to offer something out of reconsidered sympathy, when the shopkeeper took the initiative on his own. ¡°Sir, would you consider a finder¡¯s fee for it perhaps?¡± The man¡¯s gall was only matched by Frank¡¯s own. Frank tried to put on an offended, but thoughtful, expression. ¡°Only if my comb and fire-lighter are here as well.¡± Frank replied. ¡°And, if they are in perfect condition after being handled by some grubby thief!¡± Marie turned around abruptly to hide her grin from the shopkeeper. Frank couldn¡¯t be sure that the other customers failed to catch her smile, but the eavesdroppers still tried to keep a distance sufficient to plausibly argue they were shopping. Although, unless Frank¡¯s curse hit them as well, the listeners would share the petty drama all over the neighborhood within an hour. The shopkeeper¡¯s eyes drifted over the case of combs and a shelf behind the counter that seemed to include enchanted trinkets.Frank watched him carefully. With the descriptions of the items from Ennis, he took another risk and pointed to the remaining objects that he suspected were Ennis¡¯. ¡°There they are! Well. I suppose a finder¡¯s fee wouldn¡¯t be out of the question.¡± Frank dropped a pair of gold coins onto the counter. He daren¡¯t risk trying to locate the clothes. A scry with the other objects might have shown him, but he wasn¡¯t comfortable trying magic after he was already on orders to not cast. The shopkeep looked sadly down at the gold pieces, but he took them, and handed over the several items embossed with an E.N.Frank suspected the shopkeeper probably only paid only slightly more than Frank had offered, and probably less. ¡°Perhaps you would be interested in some of our other wares?¡± The man asked. Frank turned and whispered to Marie. ¡°Do you see a pair of boots you¡¯d like?¡± Marie gave him a cold look. ¡°I don¡¯t think secondhand boots are sufficient apology for destroying the old ones, do you?¡± Frank tried, and failed to hide his smile. ¡°No, I suppose not.¡± ¡°Sir?¡± The shopkeeper asked. Frank turned back to him, turning his expression stern. ¡°Well. Since you¡¯ve been so reasonable, we needn¡¯t bother to call the coppers after all.¡± Walking out of the shop, Frank left the shopkeeper vaguely red faced, the witnesses baffled, and himself a few coins lighter. But, Frank beamed. Marie followed him out. ¡°So, why did you need to make up a new name? Who is E.N. really?¡± Marie asked when they started walking back to the agency¡¯s office. ¡°Ennis Naught. Someone, probably Siobhan Naught, took his clothing and worldly possessions from the inn room where they were staying. When Ennis didn¡¯t get these items returned to him in prison, he complained.¡± ¡°How did you know that they would be in that shop?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a little piece of the pattern, isn¡¯t it? Siobhan Naught is poor. That was the entire reason Ennis brought her to the University to try to get a sponsor. She¡¯s unlikely to have much money at all, and the only things she has of value are Ennis¡¯ things. She needed to sell them.¡± ¡°Why would she sell them?¡± ¡°She¡¯s a sorcerer who needs a new conduit, but she¡¯s very very poor. She is not ¡®only eat cake on weekends¡¯ poor. Rather, Siobhan Naught is¡®begging on street corners¡¯ poor. The file makes it clear that Ennis is all bluff; he doesn¡¯t have any real money. Once you know that the Raven Queen is that poor, and that she has allies with the Stags, obviously she¡¯ll sell the goods through one of their fences. Maybe that shop is honest, or maybe its not, but ¡­¡± ¡°Why not sell the book?¡± ¡°Something like that is so priceless it is also worthless.The only people that would pay for it, like the Crowns or the University, could take it from her as easy as a snowcap eagle stealing a fish from the fishers¡¯ nets.¡± ¡°This wouldn¡¯t have been enough money for a conduit.¡± ¡°Not really, no. Even a fence doesn¡¯t pay market value.¡± Marie seemed to think this over, even as they returned to the office and dumped the junk on Frank¡¯s desk. Marie finally seemed ready to ask the question she¡¯d been forming. ¡°Couldn¡¯t you just ask him what she looked like?¡± ¡°I could, but there¡¯s a handful reasons that¡¯s not likely to help. Can you guess some of them?¡± Marie thought for a bit. ¡°He¡¯s going to pretend or lie; say that he doesn¡¯t remember. No one likes a fence that would snitch.¡± ¡°Well reasoned! Since we aren¡¯t the coppers, he has reason to lie and we have no way of proving otherwise. But even if he was truthful? We already know what the Raven Queen actually looks like, her posters are up all around town. Even if someone else sold him the goods, more likely than not I¡¯ll end up tracing them to the Verdant Stag. They won¡¯t tell me anything. But there is something else we can do.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think the Raven Queen sold the good personally, because its too risky. So, if she used a proxy, we can scry the seller. If I know where they are, we might have clue about the Raven Queen¡¯s location. Once I have my strength back, we might give it a try. For now though ¡­¡± Frank withdrew a glass box from his desk and put the three objects in it. ¡°This will keep them safe till we¡¯re ready to use them. Hopefully they were sold recently, otherwise the spell will just point to the shopkeeper. Now. Boots?¡± Marie grinned. Frank led them back out into the streets to find Marie a decent cordwainer. ¡°I like Schumacher¡¯s; do you know it?¡± Frank asked as they walked. Marie shook her head. Frank continued: ¡°It¡¯s in the middle of the city, and they treat their custom boots with waterproofing, and make them with thick soles that don¡¯t slip even on wet decking or icy streets. Simple, but enchantments aren¡¯t always what you want.¡± ¡°Do they make them in black?¡± ¡°Of course!¡± Chapter 30: Origami in Windows Marie Month 12, Day 10, 12:00 PM Poe lead them to the center of the city, to Waterside Market. Even in the afternoon, the market filled with people of all different kinds and types. Obvious sorcerers with thick books filled with metal plates mingled with witches, wealthy patrons, and ordinary folks looking for the fine finished goods that made the city famous in the known world. Despite everything, Marie felt good. She¡¯d rested, and while the phantom pain of a knife in her chest still bothered her, she felt just as healthy as she¡¯d been before the Marie kept an eye out for pickpockets and thieves. Poe wandered down the street of shops as if he hoped a pickpocket would find him. He paused and window shopped constantly, irritating Marie because these would be the ideal moment for a thief to ¡°bump¡± into him and put a hand in his pocket. Poe, however, seemed entirely oblivious to this danger. At least, Marie knew he carried at least a conduit in a pocket, and that would be a prize. Marie had tucked her own conduit into one of the pockets in her new dress. She didn¡¯t need it, and she only knew a couple of spells, and Poe already told her that she should not cast even her esoteric spell until he approved. As they passed a booth with a street performer doing a minor illusion, Poe stopped again, perhaps to critique the performers work. ¡°Notice,¡± Poe said, ¡°how the spell array covers the back of the booth, and he is standing outside it?¡± Marie nodded, glanced at the array, but kept her attention on a young boy that was brushing his way through the crowd in their direction. He brushed past several others, like he was trying to get a closer look. But, Marie noticed he paid no attention to the show. Marie thought he seemed familiar. ¡°A spell array may appear to be a flat plane, but often it¡¯s a sphere or dome. That¡¯s why ¡­¡± Marie gasped as the boy tried to reach in Poe¡¯s coat. But, before the boy¡¯s hand even came close, and seemingly without looking, Poe grabbed the boy¡¯s arm as he reached for Poe¡¯s pocket. Poe turned his full attention on the boy. Marie recognized him now. ¡°Jemnie?¡± Marie blurted. The boy pulled at Poe¡¯s grip, trying to break it by pulling his arm away, but Poe¡¯s hand held tight. ¡°Marie? Help! I didn¡¯t do nothin¡¯¡± Poe turned toward Marie and raised an eyebrow. ¡°Uh, Master Poe, this is Jemnie.¡± Poe turned his gaze back on the boy. Through his tinted spectacles, Marie could see Poe¡¯s eyes had narrowed. ¡°Jemnie. Pleasure to meet you, shall we step away from the crowd and talk?¡± Without letting go, or waiting for a response, Poe practically dragged the boy away from the group and toward an empty alley. ¡°Marie, how would you happen to know him?¡± Jemnie was an orphan only a year or two younger, and he¡¯d been working his way up through the Morrows organization. Sometimes his jobs were legitimate; for example, he worked in the laundry at the Hands, Hearts, and Palms from time to time. That was not, however, Marie¡¯s introduction to him. The Morrows had trained him up as a pickpocket for the occasional run at the Waterside Market. Almost all the Morrow¡¯s kids grew up practicing at least some pickpocket work; it was easy to learn, and the Coppers didn¡¯t cut off kid¡¯s hands as often when they were caught. ¡°Marie?¡± Poe asked. She had taken a bit too long to answer. Marie decided truth was better than lying. ¡°He¡¯s a Morrow pickpocket; I was his bump for awhile.¡± ¡°Bump?¡± Poe¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°Distraction for marks. I¡¯d worked with Jemnie a little until Madame started teaching me bookkeeping.¡± Poe actually seemed relieved by Marie¡¯s response. ¡°I see. Where¡¯s your partner?¡± Poe asked Jemnie. Jemnie shook his head, appearing somewhat panicked. Marie spoke up before he answered. ¡°He probably doesn¡¯t have one today; he¡¯s using the show as his distraction.¡± ¡°I see.¡± Frank glanced up at the attentive crowd. ¡°The performer has to keep the spell up, but he can still see the crowd. He would notice Jemnie here.¡± Poe looked down on the boy, who was still struggling with Poe¡¯s grip. ¡°So, you share your take with the performer then?¡± Jemnie, wide eyed, nodded. ¡°I¡¯m not hopeful you¡¯ll learn this lesson. But I suggest that you are done for the day, right?¡± ¡°Yes sir.¡± Jemnie stopped fighting. Poe did not apparently want retribution. Marie breathed out a long slow breath. ¡°Try not to forget, ok?¡± ¡°Yes sir.¡± Poe let the pickpocket go and the boy dashed away into the crowd. Marie thought Poe probably did that for her. When the Coppers caught a child pickpocket, their career ended pretty quickly, because the Waterside had dedicated Copper patrols, and the Coppers had plenty of former pickpockets watched.Getting caught a second time ended with a trip to the mines. ¡°He¡¯s going to forget.¡± Poe observed as he watched Jemnie go. ¡°Thanks. I know you just let him go for my benefit.¡± ¡°You need not worry. I suppose I¡¯ve been making myself look like a mark, eh?¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say that ...¡± ¡°But, I was.¡±Poe shook his head. ¡°All that stopping. No wonder you¡¯ve been antsy.¡± Marie didn¡¯t realize she¡¯d been telegraphing her concern so strongly. Poe sighed. ¡°It may not be entirely apparent, but I am observing my surroundings, Marie.¡± ¡°It¡¯s just that you are not the most ¡­ street savvy. For instance, he took your components in the right outer pocket.¡± Poe looked bemused. ¡°He tried to take the components from the outer pocket, but he failed.¡± Poe withdrew a handful of items: a marble, a folded piece of paper, a tiny piece of red coral, a pair of maple seeds, and a knotted chord. ¡°But, I saw him ¡­¡± ¡°Oh yes, he put his hand in the pocket, but he didn¡¯t access the hidden space inside. He would have to be a much better pickpocket than that and slip past the enchantment.¡± ¡°Did he get anything?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t keep anything in the main pocket. Too easy to be pickpocketed!¡± Poe laughed, then he turned serious, and quiet, leaning down to Marie¡¯s ear, he asked: ¡°Would people recognize you from your less-than-legal work in the Waterside Market?¡± ¡°Oh no. I dressed less conspicuously, and we never got caught.¡± Marie whispered back. Poe nodded, and they returned to the crowd, browsing the shops and stalls. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Marie worried that Jemnie would return and attempt Poe¡¯s pockets a second time; because of Poe¡¯s curse, he¡¯d probably already began to wonder why he¡¯d even stopped. Mindful of Poe¡¯s lesson regarding Canello, Marie began to attempt to determine if Jemnie worked his way back behind them. But, in keeping an eye out for the boy, she noticed another party following behind them. This follower she did not recognize. The Morrows had teams of thieves and pickpockets, but so did other criminal organizations. Who knew what other thieves Poe¡¯s obvious wealth would attract. Marie began to worry that another group was following them. Specifically, Marie spotted a older teen-aged girl dressed in a plain brownish-red dress, with a bag slung over her shoulder. Marie began looking for the girl¡¯s reflection in windows, and glanced out of the corner of her eye to watch for the girl. When Poe stopped, the following teen also would also seemingly stop and look at a street vendor, or in a shop¡¯s window. When Poe moved, the teen took a moment to resume walking, but when she did, she would speed up to match their pace. Yet, she still stayed well behind Poe and Marie. ¡®I¡¯m imagining things.¡¯ Marie thought. ¡®No one has any reason to follow us. Poe is well dressed, but he¡¯s not flashing money or anything.¡¯ After a while, Poe stopped looking in the windows, and they carried on walking through the Waterside market. Marie relaxed a bit. Without Poe¡¯s constant stopping, she felt that they dodged any further pickpocketing from the one following them. Even though Poe walked a bit too fast for Marie, she didn¡¯t want him to slow down now that they had taken some initiative. They arrived at Schumacher¡¯s windowed shop and stepped inside. Even the showroom smelled of clean leather and hide glue, but Marie hadn¡¯t seen anything like it. Unlike the little old cobbler she¡¯d gone to for her pair of boots that had been repaired and resized for her, this shop sold only new boots and shoes. Well dressed salesmen met customers in the open and well-lit showroom. Comfortable looking couches in the middle of the room, had customers sitting while having their feet measured and apprentices looked on and took notes. Behind the long counter that stood opposite the shop entry, the actual boot-makers cut leather, pressed it to forms, sewed soles with treadle powered machines, and strung laces. Displayed along the walls were examples of the types of shoes and boots available. There wasn¡¯t a single price tag in sight. But, Marie knew instantly which boots she wanted. The tall back boots called to her the instant she noticed them, and she immediately walked straight to them and began to examine their construction. Sitting in the window display, The Boots¡ªcapital letters required¡ªwere made with alchemical rubber soles as thick as the second joint of Marie¡¯s biggest finger, sewn to a stiff black leather, that went up over the knee. Softer pleated leather panels allowed the boot to fit around the calf to put them on. But, the boot-maker use a clever arrangement of two sets of laces: one a set of laces across the front with metal gooks and grommets tightened to have the boots snug when taking them on and off, and a second set of leather laces to adjust the fit on the outside and to form the shape precisely. Even if the wearer gained weight or the leather stretched, The Boots could adjust and would always fit the calves.The toe was square and stitched from over-lapping leather so that it had a cap of extra thickness and the toe wouldn¡¯t wear out. Marie¡¯s old leather soled boots were tough, but the soles had needed replacing regularly, and the leather would soak with water and fail. Her old boots once had the toes patched, even before she¡¯d owned them. This bootmaker designed The Boots for either canal workers or riders, because they had a molded, but thick, low heel. The Boots hardened rubber soles had studded treads and would be entirely waterproof. All the features suggested that she could wade through calf high water, and her feet would stay dry. These boots would be practically invincible, waterproof, and looked like armor for her claves and knees. ¡°So. Those boots?¡± Poe said. Marie turned to Poe, who was smiling and his eyes glinting with satisfaction. ¡°Yes. Please.¡± Marie tried to remain outwardly calm. Inside she was jumping up and down squealing. Poe called a salesman over. They had to wait, and Marie jittered with excitement. When the attendant finally came over her began explaining all the features of The Boots. For instance, an inner sole made of cork would be fitted to her foot, and would remain comfortable even after hours of standing, and the entire boot was treated with alchemical waterproofing that needed only be refreshed annually. Marie just wanted him to shut up and get to measuring. Poe politely allowed the man to give his pitch on all The Boots fine qualities, and finally, he directed the apprentice to take measurements. ¡°Do you know, sir, we recently had a customer request an expanding boot? Our master cordwainer has already designed a version that will let her wear these boots even as the young lady¡¯s feet grow. Or, we can give you a reference to a cobbler that can refit these for you, for an extra fee, of course.¡± The attendant suggested. Poe glanced at Marie. ¡°Standard boots.¡± Marie told Poe. Marie wasn¡¯t at all sure she was going to get much bigger, and, anyway, that seemed like a long time off. The attendant didn¡¯t seem at all bothered. As the attendant took measurements while Marie sat facing the window, Marie looked to the street outside. The market bustled, except for the individual sulking at the corner of the building across the street. The girl with the bag. Marie gestured to Poe. ¡°Poe. We¡¯re being followed.¡± Marie whispered to him. Poe didn¡¯t look surprised. ¡°I agree. She¡¯s been hanging around waiting for the entire time we¡¯ve been in here, but she moved regularly when we were outside.¡± Poe murmured. ¡°Do you recognized her? Is she a Morrow?¡± ¡°Not one that I know. It¡¯s a big organization.¡± ¡°She¡¯s not wearing red. Nor any green that I can see.¡± ¡°Do you ¡­ want to confront her?¡± Marie asked. A fight could get them arrested. And, the woman might be a copper or Red Guard. ¡°No. We¡¯ll let this play out a bit. Keep your eye out for more of them though. I¡¯m not in good shape to defend with magic, and you were almost dead a few days ago, so running might be out.¡± ¡°So, you were stopping to watch for her?¡± ¡°No ¡­ I was looking at the origami in the windows.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t know you liked folding paper.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t.¡± Marie wasn¡¯t sure what to make of Poe¡¯s reply. If he didn¡¯t like origami, why look at it? After a few minutes of contemplation, while the clerk finally taking the measurements, Marie and Poe were finally free to leave. As they stepped out of the shop, Poe walked in the opposite direction than Marie expected. They walked toward the University. Along the way, they stopped at a street vendor and bought a late lunch.Their tail tried to remain inconspicuous, but as the crowds thinned, trailing after them became even more conspicuous. As they walked past shops meant for the wealthy and manors, Poe eventually guided them to the University lifts, but he took them to post office there. ¡°What are we doing here?¡± ¡°Writing a note to Canelo; the next meeting is in just a few days.¡± ¡°How do you know? Did you talk to someone last night?¡± ¡°No.¡± Poe wrote his message, and left it with at the office. They stepped back on the street, and the woman followed them back toward the agency. She was hanging pretty far back, and Marie felt ok to start a conversation as they walked. Marie had not yet asked Poe about the ¡°black market¡± meeting. She took a certain amount of criminal activity in stride, but what sort of magic was illegal, besides blood magic? Was Poe actually a blood sorcerer? She tried to ask without seeming worried. ¡°Why do Sorcerers even have a secret meeting? The Night Market has everything, doesn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Are you familiar with the idea that there are two sorts of laws?¡± ¡°Ah, no? Isn¡¯t there just one kind of law?¡± Poe shrugged. ¡°The theory goes like this: the first kind of laws ban immoral, evil, or contemptible behavior. Murder, Rape, or Theft. Your pickpocketing friend, for example. His behavior is immoral and undermines fundamental societal norms. So, those are not not just illegal, they are also wrong.¡± Marie wasn¡¯t so sure about that, the pickpockets always targeted people who could afford to have slightly light pockets. But then ¡­ some Morrows didn¡¯t care. If someone didn''t wear red, their stuff was fair game. Marie conceded that stealing was generally wrong. So, she nodded. ¡°There¡¯s a second kind of law though; laws that aren¡¯tuniversal. It¡¯s against the law because the Crown said so. Laws that just keep people from sharing information, or charge fees to exchange otherwise legal goods. Laws that ban things because its banned. You understand?¡± ¡°Blood magic?¡± ¡°Blood magic can be both. Some blood magic is good, when applied in the right situation. But, when abused, well, people that murder for a longer life or a more powerful magic, that type of magic is evil. ¡­ I¡¯m getting off topic. Which kind of law do you think a group of sorcerers might be willing to avoid?¡± ¡°The second kind.¡± ¡°Exactly. Sorcery is regulated heavily, and some of those regulations chafe the sort of sorcerer that works on the fringes of the law.¡± ¡°Like you?¡± ¡°Obviously not me,¡± Poe smirked, ¡°I am a mere private investigator.¡± Marie rolled her eyes. He was teaching her magic, and that was illegal. But, Marie thought she understood. It was like keeping two sets of books; one that kept track of the real income, and one to show the Morrows bosses. ¡°So, the meetings aren¡¯t like secret blood sorcerers?¡± ¡°It is my hope that you will never have a reason to attend. But, these meetings are not much more than a gossip session with some tax dodging. Hedge witches and small time sorcerers know better than mess with blood magic in Lenore.¡± Marie relaxed. That did not sound so bad. Poe suddenly gripped Marie¡¯s arm and lead her quickly around a corner and stepped into a lone carriage that seemed to have dropped a wealthy passenger at a manor house. He directed the driver to the August Agency¡¯s address. As the carriage pulled away from the curb, the young woman rounded the corner. Marie decided that waving as they rode away would be a little bit much. Chapter 31: Explaining the Nature of Things Marie Month 12, Day 12, 8:00 AM Marie opened the Agency early. Poe awoke early and they had breakfast together. He treated her almost like a full partner; discussing his plans to attend the meeting and how they might find some new business. On the other hand, as Poe¡¯s apprentice, she learned that cleaning up the massive spell array in his office was one of her responsibilities. At least Poe explained how his peculiar divination array worked, although he did not permit her to copy and memorize the glyphs, so she just memorized them without his permission and when he wasn¡¯t watching. While in the midst of this task, familiar heavy boots thumped on the wooden entryway, then the office¡¯s door banged open. Dinky, with Mama close behind, entered. ¡°Mama!¡± Marie popped up from cleaning the ink from the floorboards and went to hug her mother. Mama seemed looking tired, but well. ¡°I missed you.¡± Marie said, muffled a bit by her Mama¡¯s dress. Dinky, however, had bruises on his face, arms, and winced a bit when he walked. ¡°Dinky? What happened to you?¡± ¡°Aberrant. Red Guard made me swear not to tell.¡± Dinky replied. ¡°Sounds like them.¡± Poe said. ¡°Although they could have healed you up a bit better.¡± ¡°They did some, but t¡¯ey stopped after I punched their ¡®ealer.¡± Dink looked slightly embarrassed. ¡°I wasn¡¯t feeling myself; healer was nice fella, I felt real bad later that I ¡®it ¡®im.¡± For a man so big, Dinky hunched a bit. ¡°And, I sorry about ¡­¡± He trailed off. ¡°Do you remember then?¡± Marie asked. Dinky nodded. ¡°I don¡¯t know ¡®ow I coulda done that to you. I am very sorry.¡± Dinky said. Marie saw tears in his eyes. ¡°It was an aberrant.¡± Poe said. ¡°Marie has explained it to me. When others were violent and attacked, somewhere deep inside you were still trying to protect Marie. Eventhough we should talk about it; she was quite badly injured.¡± ¡°You were there?¡± Dinky asked. ¡°I don¡¯t remember you.¡± ¡°I was.¡± Poe replied. ¡°I¡¯d like to stay and explain, but ¡­¡± Poe looked at Marie, and she realized what would happen if he stayed. He told Marie that he would be in his room, so they could have the office for Marie to explain. With Poe gone, Mama and Dinky could remember the conversation. Marie explained what they knew. Dinky, it turned out, couldn¡¯t say much more about it from his perspective, because of the Red Guard oaths, so this was the first time Mama had heard the whole story. Dinky interjected several apologies for locking her in the cellar, but Marie had already forgiven him. She knew he wasn¡¯t himself, even at the time. When Marie admitted that she stabbed herself, Mama and Dinky blanched. To her embarrassment, Marie began crying. Even thinking about it all these days later, she could still remember that horrible fear of dying. Mama embraced her. ¡°Are you still hurt? I¡¯ll pay for if your healing wasn¡¯t no good.¡± ¡°No, Mama, he took me to a healer right away. One of ¡­ the Stags¡¯.¡± And then Marie had to admit that Poe carried her to the Verdant Stag and had gotten help from healer there. ¡°Marie, the Stags? The Morrows been snooping around looking for any way to shut them down.¡± ¡°Why Momma?¡± ¡°Rumor is that the Stags are moving into magic components. The Morrows make a lot of money form that, and they ain¡¯t having no truck with the Stags competin¡¯.¡± ¡°Who says that?¡± ¡°Kett¡± Dinky rumbled, ¡°has been coming in and taking ¡®is due lately, and e¡¯s complaining to the girls.¡± ¡°Be careful. The Pack have been wandering through our parts of the city.¡± Momma said. ¡°The Morrows have the biggest portion. They could be buying stuff.¡± Marie protested. ¡°They aren¡¯t. All the Morrows enforcers are on alert. They know something is coming, but they don¡¯t know what. Madame asked about glamours when I left. She made a deal with Poe, and she wants it honored.¡± ¡°What is he supposed to do?¡± Marie didn¡¯t remember him talking about taking that case. ¡°Trying to find a person willing to cast glamours on Morrows people.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll mention it.¡± Momma and Dinky needed to return to work, and so Marie walked them to the door. The street was quiet, and there was hardly anyone walking. Mama and Dinky made it just a few steps when a group of five men wearing green came out of an alley, then blocked Mama and Dinky¡¯s path. Marie spun and called for Poe. Poe ran down the stairs from his room, then, glancing through the doorway, headed out to the street to intercept the confrontation. In the grey morning, he was ablaze with a yellow and orange suit, his koi covered coat fluttering out behind him. ¡°Marie, stay here.¡± Poe said as he strode out. ¡°Oy!¡± The lead Stag called to Dinky and Mama. ¡°What you doing in our territory?¡± Poe caught up to them and stepped directly around Mamma and stood right between the two sides. ¡°Visiting her daughter.¡± Poe said. Poe showed his conduit between two fingers.The conduit sparkled in the sunlight. Showing his conduit like that, he appeared prepared to cast magic. The group of Stags went very still and stared at it. The sorcerers¡¯ reputation meant that a thug might never knew what a sorcerer had prepared. A sorcerer was like a water snake in the canal, better leave it alone to go its own way than suffer a painful and potentially deadly bite. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°No Morrows in Stag Territory.¡± The group¡¯s speaker replied. Marie noted he lacked a tremor in his voice. ¡®Brave or stupid?¡¯ Marie wondered. ¡°You seem unaware of the nature of things. I¡¯m running a neutral business here, as your leadership damn well knows. I¡¯ve sent plenty of warnings about this nonsense, and I¡¯ll write one more in your flesh if I have to. I am on amicable terms with Lord Stag, so I¡¯ll leave it to you to explain why you¡¯ve made me into an enemy.¡± Marie was surprised that Dinky and Mama were quiet, then Marie realized their hands weresubtly moving toward pockets for hidden weapons. ¡°Someone pulled the chord.¡± The Stag enforcer said. ¡°It¡¯s a false alarm.¡± Poe replied. ¡°There¡¯s no Morrows business going on here, is there?¡± Poe shifted slightly to imply he¡¯d directed the question to Mamma. Dinky answered. ¡°No Morrows business. Just visiting Master Sorcerer Poe¡¯s apprentice.¡± Marie knew she¡¯d told Dinky that Poe was not a Master. But, the suggestion of Poe¡¯s Mastery escalated the Stags¡¯ risk. Marie always though Dinky was pretty simple, but maybe he wasn¡¯t? ¡°We don¡¯t mean no disrespect.¡± ¡°Do not test me.¡± Poe said. The koi shifted and swam on the surface of Poe¡¯s coat. Even from the doorway, Marie sensed Poe¡¯s furious and jagged emotion from the doorway of the August Agency. Poe continued speaking. ¡°You won¡¯t remember any threats I make today, so I¡¯ll not waste my breath on any ultimatums. But, in this moment I¡¯ll tell you the truth: if my curse works the way I think it does, and if end you here, your mothers won¡¯t even remember your names.¡± Marie couldn¡¯t see, but she could hear dark humor in Poe¡¯s voice.¡°I could find out, if you¡¯re volunteering?¡± The five enforcers shuffled away from Poe slightly. ¡°No, uh, sir. I can see this has all been a misunderstanding.¡± ¡°Good.¡± Poe replied. The Stag enforcers reluctantly turned and, with furtive glances backwards, stumbled off.Poe, Dinky, and Mama watched them go. Poe turned and gazed at Dinky and Mama. ¡°I appreciate your quick thinking, and that you had weapons ready to assist me. If possible, I do prefer to keep the violence to a minimum. Have a good day.¡± Dinky nodded, and then they continued on their way. Marie¡¯s careful gaze on Poe¡¯s return to the Agency¡¯s doorway must have seemed puzzled. ¡°What is it Marie? You seem confused.¡± Poe lead them back into the building, but instead of heading into the office, he lead them up the stairs. ¡°Were you really prepared to cast magic without a circle, word, sacrifice or components?¡± Poe laughed. ¡°No, not really. I¡¯ve studied free casting, but I really only managed to levitate objects and I know a smattering of esoteric spells that mimic free casting. Another semester or two and I¡¯m confident I would have properly managed it.¡± ¡°You were bluffing?¡± ¡°I would have used the coat, then stolen their weapons.¡± ¡°How does the coat work?¡± ¡°It ¡­¡± Poe made a strangling sound, then coughed. ¡°I can¡¯t say. Oath.¡± ¡°Would that have worked?¡± ¡°Maybe. I¡¯m glad I didn¡¯t need to find out. Especially since the doctor told me to avoid casting for a few weeks. Get your cloak.¡± Poe lead the way onto the roof, and they opened the hatch to a day with fair weather, with a cold wind blowing. ¡°Poe, are we consulting Frigg about the glamours?¡± ¡°Yes and No. I already consulted with Frigg, and she seemed to suggested a compromise.I thought that the compromise would be with Millie.¡± Poe frowned. ¡°Obviously not, now that Mille is ¡­ gone.¡± ¡®Dead.¡¯ Marie thought. ¡®It¡¯s nice of him to try to protect my feelings, but I have to accept that she¡¯s dead.¡¯ ¡°So, what will we be asking Frigg?¡± Marie asked. ¡°I¡¯m planning a trip to the secret meeting tonight¡ªyou can¡¯t come by the way¡ªand I want to know if she objects. Don¡¯t forget your cloak.¡± When they popped up on the surface of the roof, the sky was clear and cold. The roof seemed dry here, but water pooled in the corners and along the metal seams.The bowl had been left upside down, so Poe flipped it over. He rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a squashed paper bird. He dropped it in the bowl, then sat with his legs tucked under him, and closed his eyes. Marie began to feel his will carefully expand into the space around them, like a featherlight touch, radiating calm. Marie wore one of her secondhand dresses today, because she knew they would be cleaning, so she didnt¡¯ worry so much about sitting on the grimy roof. But Schumacher¡¯s had not delivered The Boots yet, so she looked skeptically at the roof, wondering if kneeling would be too cold on her legs, even with the long woolen stockings she wore. Since she did not sit, Poe opened his eyes, and he patted the space next to him. Marie shivered a bit and sat. The roof met all her expectations for a cold metal seat. Poe closed his eyes and began breathing slowly and deeply. Poe did not seemingly try to call to Frigg. In fact, he seemed to be doing nothing at all. ¡®Did he fall asleep?¡¯ Marie wondered. ¡®No, the roof is too cold for that. Even with whatever warmth his coat has.¡¯ Marie didn¡¯t have much to do, other than wait, and think. The gang war seemed like it was not far off. The Morrows were a big organization, and they held both magical and nonmagical advantages. Lord Morrow¡¯s gang always had an information advantage. Their sources in the coppers, on the docks, and even among compromised Crowns, gave them the information edge for decades. Something about the Stags, however, confused them. The loyalty his people showed? Lord Stag¡¯s secrecy from prying eyes? Lord Stag also seemed better prepared in his territory; the flags had summoned those enforcers almost immediately. Lord Stag¡¯s reputation allowed him to make allies. Marie noticed how hard he¡¯d tried to recruit Poe. He allied with the Raven Queen; the Pack wanted to meet her. What dark powers could she bring to bear on the Morrows? Marie began to worry. What if the fight came to Hands, Hearts, and Palms? Would Dinky be alright? Would Madame? Mama? Marie shivered. After what seemed like an hour of her legs getting colder and colder¡ªbut even Marie had to admit had been less than a quarter hour¡ªFrigg skimmed silently over the the rooftops. Marie felt a wash of gratitude when she saw those dark wings. ¡°Welcome.¡± Poe said. ¡°And, thank you for your foresight and help to Marie and myself.¡± Poe nudged Marie. ¡°Thank you Queen of among Ravens.¡± Marie said. ¡°Kraa.¡± Frigg replied. Frigg accepted their praise and groomed her wings. She bobbed her head and hopped gaily toward the bowl, seemingly unbothered by the cold metal roof. She looked at the paper bird curiously. ¡°You know what I will ask them tonight?¡± Poe asked the Raven. ¡°And who I will bring?¡± Frigg seemingly bobbed her head affirmatively. She picked up the oragami bird in her beak, and tossed it in the air and watched it fall onto the roof.She looked at it curiously with one dark eye, then she snatched the origami with her beak, and took flight back in the direction of the Mires. ¡°That seems like a success to me.¡± Poe observed. ¡°Me too. Can I ask a question?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°How are you expressing your will without a spell?¡± ¡°I allow my will expand outward; touching the objects and animals around me. There¡¯s some debate between animists and shamans who developed the technique first. Perhaps ancient druids figured it out. It¡¯s not preparing for a spell or anything like that. For me ¡­ it helps me sense connections.¡± ¡°Will you teach me?¡± ¡°When your will is better under your control, of course.¡± ¡°The roof is cold. I need my boots.¡± Marie stood up and rubbed her cold legs. Poe rubbed his forehead, and stood. ¡°Ah, sorry. We can stay warm in the office while we clean!¡± ¡°Ugh.¡± Marie replied, but she was smiling. Chapter 32: Unexpected Fortune Frank Poe Month 12, Day 12, 8:00 PM Frank waited at the a corner paved in mud-covered cobbles just outside the Night Market for Canelo to arrive. The grimy Mires flooded regularly, and winter only gave a mild reprieve from the worst of the smell. Frank¡¯s eyes watered while trying acclimate to the acrid smell coming from the gutter. In retrospect, he wished that he¡¯d agreed to meet Canelo on a different corner, one closer to the upper part of the city. He¡¯d committed, however, so, he wasn¡¯t going to renege due to discomfort. Attending the meeting meant anonymity. Anonymity meant that Frank disguised himself with the practical method of wearing a dark grey, almost black suit, hooded matching grey cloak to cover his hair, leather boots with iron hobnailed soles, and a magical mask to cover his face completely. In other words, clothes that Marie finally approved of. The only color was Frank¡¯s mask. Lord Stag seemingly preferred an entirely featureless mask with eyeholes, but Poe preferred a mask that would hide his eyes and have some illusory features. His mask stayed stuck to his face with a subtle magic, and no ties. It had eyeholes that allowed him to see out, but, a thin black fabric stretched over the entire stiff face-covering mask. From the wearer¡¯s perspective, the mask obscured nothing; but, from those that gazed upon it, the fabric hid Frank¡¯s eyes, including their unusual color. Further confusing the observer, across the surface of his mask, an enchanted illusion showed a pair of deepwater shark¡¯s slitted eyes with ochre sclera, green iris, and dark blue pupils.The illusory eyes rested farther apart than a human¡¯s eyes, giving the mask¡ªand therefore its wearer¡ªan even more uncanny and slightly cock-eyed look. Frank could deactivate the illusion, or select other images, to make it even more difficult to track the mask to his person. He¡¯d had a crafter make the mask, but he had custom crafted the illusion enchantments. Poe had carefully chosen all his clothing to be worn only to and from the meetings so only someone following him would know his purpose. In fact, he¡¯d had to exit the August Agency via a rear window to avoid the watchers that either the Stags or the Morrows had placed outside the front entrance. He¡¯d dodged them easily, but he also made sure to double back and check for anyone that might be following him. He was free of prying eyes. Still, he couldn¡¯t bring his koi coat, or his recognizable pipe, and therefore he did not have access to its built-in spell arrays, so he brought what other protection he was willing to use. Frank wore a cloak with custom protective enchantments, and he carried his fighting cane. The cane¡¯s maker fashioned the small staff a knuckle in diameter, half his height, and capped both ends in forged and machined iron. The straight-grained, rived, and drawknife carved stick of enchanted mime oak could take sword strike without denting, bending, warping, or breaking. Frank could use the heavy iron ends to break ribs, knock heads, or use the whole stick like a lever to trip or throw an attacker. He could use most of his pipe fighting techniques, and a few specialties of stick fighting as well. Patrolling night market enforcers gave him some suspicious looks, but even they knew that coppers did not hide their faces. The seemingly unobtrusive enforcers were there to tip off businesses should there be a surprise. There were plenty of raids on Night Market businesses. The street vendors often had plenty of opportunities to flee if a raid came, but the vendors with physical shops had magical and mundane means to hide the illegal portions of their operations. While Frank waited, he saw an illegal potion dealer shake hands with dozens of strangers to pass along money and potions. Unless one knew better, you¡¯d think he was just a popular man meeting friends in the street. Except the ¡°friends¡± left, and the dealer stayed. Frank grit his teeth under the mask. He hated the potion trade. So, of course, people approached Frank to buy from his nonexistent stock. Some of them were masked, so they could have been Canelo in disguise. Except, Poe provided her with a passphrase in advance, and those that hid their faces failed to give it. Accordingly, he waved all these away. They may have thought he was a competitor, but that would have been the height of stupidity. The corner dealer had a red belt and wore red gloves. No one would doubt that he worked for the Morrows. Red gloves watched each of Frank¡¯s interactions with barely disguised suspicion. The dealer didn¡¯t approach, however, likely because Frank did not engage with any of the addicts that mistakenly tried to buy from Frank. Frank and red gloves warily watched each other, until a masked woman, approached him around the bend in the narrow street. ¡°Are you ¡­ Po ¡­ Fate hides the face of friend and foe alike?¡± ¡°Only to those with eyes that can not see the thread.¡± Poe nodded toward Canelo, who had managed to get password correct. He examined whether she¡¯d improved her clandestine work. She wore dark nondescript clothing and a mask, but she still had a few recognizable features, like her boots. It would do. ¡°Follow me.¡± Frank left red gloves behind and lead Canelo to an old warehouse building. He stopped them away from the light, drawing for a close conference in a shadow across the street. ¡°You brought restricted components to trade, as I suggested?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°My payment?¡± Frank asked. Canelo handed over a bag. Frank opened it and checked the pair of boxes both by looking at the contents and by smelling them. She¡¯d brought the bark from the Fey Alder, Crimson Dogwood, and Silver Orb Weaver bush. No one harvested the Silver Orb Weaver bush¡¯s bark, so he was abusing Canelo¡¯s access to the University¡¯s menagerie to finally get his hands on it. He found that these three in combination worked very well in smoke shaping magics. ¡°Very good.¡± Frank nodded and put away the bag on his belt under the cloak. ¡°Let¡¯s get a few reminders out of the way. It was all in my letter, in nice clear numbered list, but if you focus your will and pay attention you might actually remember this conversation. First, I¡¯m introducing you to this meeting. This is your first time, so keep your mouth shut, except for offering those rare components. It¡¯s important that you actually sell them. If you aren¡¯t bringing value to the meeting, you won¡¯t get any of your questions answered. I¡¯ll tell you right now, do not ask about the Raven Queen in this meeting.¡± ¡°But that¡¯s why I¡¯m here!¡± Canelo whispered urgently. ¡°The Coppers desperately want the Raven Queen. You do not want to be seen as a Copper, understand? Be patient. For this meeting, you need to appear just as crooked as the rest of us, right?¡± ¡°Fine.¡± ¡°Second, do not ask stupid questions. Let¡¯s review; what¡¯s a stupid question?¡± ¡°Asking personal questions? ¡­¡± ¡°Close. Do not ask for names or affiliations. Do not ask me any questions, because I will ignore you. Do not ask for any personal details from the guards or the interviewers.¡± Frank grimaced behind the Mask, and continued with his list. ¡°Third, you will be interviewed. Answer truthfully. If you lie they will ban you from the meeting. And fourth, Do Not embarrass me. I¡¯ll be sponsoring you, so let''s be clear about this: I am not working for the Coppers, or the Crowns. I¡¯ve my own business at this meeting as well, and I expect you to keep your nose out of it.¡± ¡°I can keep quiet.¡± ¡°They only allow the use of monikers - no names. You can give one, or not. I go by the Mariner, but only a few have moniker¡¯s at all. I strongly suggest you skip it. They tolerate no violence, and by Myrdin, if you fuck that up, I¡¯ll hide your dead body from the Coppers, the Morrows, and the University myself ¡­ if there¡¯s anything left of it. I am not your bodyguard. Clear?¡± Canelo swallowed hard. Frank couldn¡¯t see her face under the mask, but he hoped she had her serious face on. ¡°As my letter said, there¡¯s three parts to the meeting: offers to sell, offers to buy, and then completing the contracts. People gossip before and after, which may or may not be helpful to you. I assume you know how not to be an idiot?¡± Finally, Canelo seemed to get some fire, and she balled her hands into fists. ¡°Listen here, I¡¯m ¡­¡± ¡°Going into a situation where you have little experience and thinking you know all the dangers. I assure you: you do not. Now, focus your will on remembering what I just told you. You should have already read it once, except my moniker. I¡¯m not writing it down, and you¡¯ll have to overcome my curse on your own. If you forget my moniker I¡¯m not reminding you. Remember to look at this card if you find yourself confused.¡± Poe handed Canelo a card. ¡°It just says, ¡®1. Listen carefully. 2. Think carefully. 3. Tell the truth. 4. Give no personal information. 5. Ask no personal questions. 6. Don¡¯t be a stupid fool.¡¯?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right. Do that and you¡¯ll be able to come back next time. If I have to, I¡¯ll explain how to find the next meeting if you need me to, but I expect the interviewers will do that.¡± Canelo sighed like the barely qualified young adult that she was. Frank ignored her and lead her to the doorway to the warehouse for the meeting. He shared the passphrase, and the guards allowed them in. A few of the members remembered his attendance from meeting to meeting, so he could introduce Canelo as a perspective member and hand her off to be interrogated.She was carefully studying the card as she walked away. Frank stifled his own sigh. She must have had copious amounts of will, but she failed to have the kind of clarity Marie managed effortlessly. Marie would need training in regulating her will, but Frank still marveled at her outstanding talent. In contrast, Canelo had some talent, and clear ambition, but Frank wondered how she managed to get in this situation with her sponsors at the University. Frank couldn¡¯t rescue her from her recklessness, even if he wanted to. While Frank waited for the meeting to begin, other thaumaturges wandered into the meeting space. Then, the woman arrived.Liza. Everyone knew who she was. Even masked, she was too flashy to be anyone else. She sat and immediately expanded her portable desk, reminding Frank of Lord Stag¡¯s own intimidating power play. She had no authority at the meeting, but she oozed general magical power and ability. In particular, Frank witnessed her deliver on both powerful enchanting and divination at the meetings. Frank considered himself a qualified, if not a Master-level divination practitioner. But, in his early days away from Haven, he¡¯d lost several divination warding contracts to Liza at these meetings. At first he felt offended, but then he learned the hard truth. She cast better and more sophisticated wards, crafted durable and long lasting enchantments, and she displayed skill far in advance of what an ordinary black market sorcerer could provide. Even though she commanded steep fees, everyone paid without complaint. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Frank knew she warded up her home in the Mires with the sort of magic that made her unassailable. Rumors suggested that she¡¯d even work blood magic for the right price. Frank reckoned she had military-level experience in divination curses. Frank quashed any jealousy he might have had, and reminded himself of point 6. on his card. ¡®Don¡¯t be an idiot.¡¯ Frank thought. If he had a thousand gold, and she had the inclination, he reckoned Liza could have found the Raven Queen for him, even using the trinkets from Ennis Naught. A bit of blood like the coppers had, and Liza could have tracked the Raven Queen into the mythical plane of darkness if she desired. His pride and his pocketbook, however, kept him from recruiting Liza in the search for the Raven Queen. He wondered if Liza would take whatever bait Canelo would offer at the next meeting. Eventually, the interrogation team brought Canelo into the meeting. They were still early, so it took a little time for the meeting to get started. ¡°Mariner.¡± A large, somewhat flabby, sorcerer approached him. ¡°Any news to share?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Shame.¡± ¡°I tell you the same thing every meeting.¡± ¡°Do you? I don¡¯t recall.¡± Frank snorted. The dealer in exotic ingredients was not a weak willed thaumaturge. He never forgot Frank¡¯s moniker, and he never mistook Frank for anyone else.A few others in this crowd that managed to overcome Frank¡¯s curse as well; Liza never spoke to Frank before or after the meeting, but she would use his moniker from time to time during it. Besides those two, there was one other: an older diviner. She had spoken to Frank on several occasions, and she never forgot a word. If Liza was a tiny queen, this woman was everyone¡¯s kindly old grandmother. ¡®And, if I really believe that,¡¯ Frank thought ¡®I should find someone to sell me a nice palace on the Wall. Kindly grandmothers don¡¯t attend these meetings.¡¯ Frank noted that the meeting was unusually crowded. Perhaps something valuable had come in, and there were rumors about it. Frank wouldn¡¯t have heard them, even if he wasn¡¯t so busy. Frank wasn¡¯t one thing or another: not a Master who could set up on his own as a thaumaturge, nor a true black market spell caster inside the circle of illegal casters. This would be his first opportunity to hear magic rumor for some time, but rumors of Millie Parker dominated the conversations. Frank listened. ¡°Did you hear? Rumor is that Millie went abberrant.¡± ¡°I¡¯m surprised. She was a nice girl, aside from being a whore, of course.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you dare judge.¡± One of the witches growled. ¡°There but for grace go us all. We¡±re living on the bleeding edge everyday. The Morrows did it for her, what with them turning a blind eye and discouraging honest healers in their territory.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t mean no offense to the profession. But, it weren¡¯t the Morrows that cast the spell, was it?¡± ¡°She¡¯s a warning to us all.¡± Another said. ¡°As if we don¡¯t know well enough. If you turn to untested blood magic when you¡¯re desperate, then you¡¯re just asking for trouble.¡± ¡°Blood magic?¡± Someone scoffed. ¡°What was the effect, some type of lust inducing magic? That¡¯s a far cry from an aberrant made with real blood magic. She made glamours, and not even powerful ones. The Red Guard got it under control pretty quick.¡± ¡°A little bedroom magic doesn¡¯t make aberrants.¡± Another woman said. ¡°She was messing with something beyond her ken, that¡¯s for sure.¡± An argument broke out over the spell that Millie had cast. Whether it was one that had been traded before at the meeting, and whose fault it was that Millie had broken. The conversation continued, making Frank increasingly uncomfortable. Frank considered that there was no point in adding voice to this conversation. He felt sick just thinking about those hours that he¡¯d been under her compulsion. The meeting organizers eventually shut this argument down. Spells shared at the meeting weren¡¯t guaranteed; the buyer took the responsibility casting and reviewing spell array. Eventually, the meeting began. The meeting began with offers. A particularly heavily covered, and veiled participant started. ¡°Music pipes; play them and one becomes supernaturally attractive to the listener, or listeners. Useful in seduction.¡± The androgynous voice of the offer said. Frank shivered. He¡¯d have enough of magical attraction for lifetime. ¡°I note there¡¯s no promise of success here.¡± Frank said flatly. ¡°Attraction is just enough to get the attention, the rest you¡¯ll need handle on your own.¡± Frank wasn¡¯t interested. And, neither were the other members, with only one bidder, and the robed person rejected it. Perhaps meeting participants still had Millie Parker in mind. Next, a person offered a Celestial Lycogala, a living sample; restricted because of its flexibility in elemental transmutationand its rarity from over-harvesting, but not impossible to obtain. There was a brief bidding war, but eventually the exotic parts dealer bought it in exchange for a plant part from the plane of air. Then Canelo. On Frank¡¯s advice, she¡¯d obtained one of the more desirable restricted ingredients. ¡°Fairy Wings. Harvested within the last two days, and kept in a stasis box. I¡¯m interested in artifacts, information, or interesting magic.¡± Frank didn¡¯t want to know how Canelo managed to smuggle those out of the University, but they were well known contraband when he attended. The diviners and shamans in the room all sat a little straighter.This was the sort of component that let them see into the beyond. Or, at least, conventional theory had shamans use hallucinogenics to separate the mind from the body and grant sight beyond sight. Not everyone had an interest. Liza just stuck and elbow on her table and rested her chin on her hand. She needed no hallucinogenic crutch for her magic. ¡°I can offer potions. High grade anti-aging or healing with ingredients from the plane of radiance. Or, if you specify, I can offer a variety of useful potions.¡± The ingredients dealer offered. ¡°I¡¯m willing to provide protection artifacts, useful against hostile spirits.¡± Another offer came. ¡°I have copies of an unexpurgated Geller¡¯s Compendium of Sympathetic Ingredients.I¡¯m willing to allow you to peruse the volume and make notes. If you prefer, I am willing to part with an unexpurgated history of the Blood Empire, which includes descriptions of their experiments.¡± Another offered. Frank suspected that one was actually a shaman. In the past, they¡¯d bartered for hallucinogenic items, and they had offered to treat curses using shamanistic magic before. Canelo seemed unimpressed with the books. Frank reckoned that with access to the library, she had no real understanding of how valuable information could be to this group. ¡°What sort of artifacts?¡± Grandmother asked. ¡°I have a prewar battle wand, capable of holding a dozen charges. It¡¯s untraceable. A useful item in these dangerous times.¡± Frank was a bit surprised that grandmother would offer anything like that. She¡¯d never offered anything like that before. ¡°Anyone else?¡± The leader of the meeting asked. Canelo paused for a moment, perhaps unsure of what she wanted to say. ¡°I am interested in the battle wand.¡± Frank frowned under his mask. It¡¯s not the choice he would have picked. Frank didn¡¯t like battle wands. They could be stolen, or ran out of charges, and they had no grace or art. Magic should be beautiful, not just useful. Frank had no use for pacifism. He¡¯d studied several of the sailor¡¯s fighting techniques with capable instructors. Learning a marital art taught more than fighting; the martial artist discovered limits, their physical body, reading others, preparation, tenacity, and loss. A wand didn¡¯t teach anything, except how to point, hurt others, and, if you were very unlucky, how to kill. ¡°I am offering a Shen Dragon Pearl.¡± Frank took a deep measured breath. A deep water pearl from the Charybdis Gulf. A dangerous, and valuable, acquisition from the Shen clam. Diving itself was something only the desperate would do. The clam was a magical creature, and even extracting a pearl required complex magic, or a practical impossibility: killing the clam. Frank knew that the secret to harvesting these pearls should have died out long ago. ¡°Is it rated?¡± Someone asked. The University taught that cerelium made the best conduit, followed by natural gemstones. But, as with most things, reality was complex. Some magic components also made for powerful, if not quite as reliable conduits. ¡°At least one thousand thaums. For that reason alone it would be worth a substantial amount, but this pearl is also useful as a spell component. During the Blood empire, these pearls were used to lengthen life, manipulate time, and preserve memory.¡± Franks emotions leaped, and it was difficult for him to even contemplate. Preserve memory. The doctors at Haven had tried with a potion. Giving everyone he met an expensive memory potion was not feasible. But, this? This could be just the sort of magic he needed. He needed a powerful artifact, not a mere potion. His mind raced to what he could offer. He had money enough, but could he win this auction? This could be something for himself, a chance to be normal. Then bidding began. Wealth at this meeting here wasn¡¯t in gold, although the Pearl seller received plenty of monetary offers. Some offered less valuable spell ingredients but in greater quantity, while some offered a combination of gold and beast cores. But true wealth at the meeting resided in skill and knowledge. A potion maker offered to provide a variety of potions, both rare and expensive, legal and illegal. Liza made an offer of one of her portable offices, assistance with a divination, and a custom warded chest to be delivered within a year. Then Frank spoke. ¡°A complete copy of the five volume set of the Handbook of Components, Physical Laws, Spell Arrays, and Glyphs of the Modern Sorcerer by Grandmaster Aquina Erasmus. I am offering a black-market imported second edition, not the later four volume third edition published here in the city and edited to remove the spells on mind magic, defenses to compulsion magic, and her speculation on modern shamanry and esoteric magic. While the recent edition is restricted, the version I am offering was banned. The glyph reference from the third edition alone has been traded here at this meeting for over a hundred gold.¡± What Frank didn¡¯t say was that he had two copies. One copy was a censor¡¯s stamped copy that he saved from destruction through his contact with the publisher, and the second was an imported pre-ban copy that would look legal at a cursory glance. Either way, what he was offering was, in book form, the first four classes in the Universities¡¯ Modern Magics course, and enough reference material to reach the level of a Master in fact, if not in name. He heard a gasp, and even Liza turned her head toward him. ¡°A bird in hand is better than two in the bush.¡± The Pearl Seller said. ¡°I appreciate many of these offers, but this is the first I know will be delivered soon and with certainty. Is there any counter offer?¡± Liza seemed to consider it. ¡°I may be able to make a further counteroffer, but I¡¯d need time to consider it.¡± ¡°Do you have them with you?¡± The seller asked Frank. ¡°No, but I¡¯ll bring them next meeting, I will take a blood vow to that effect if you are willing to deliver the Pearl at this meeting.¡± ¡°Hmm. Bring the books to the meeting after next, I want to bring someone knowledgable on their contents to check them. I¡¯ll also consider the other one¡¯s counteroffer at that time, you may inspect the pearl tonight, but not keep it. I¡¯ll agree that I will have the Pearl ready at that meeting for exchange.¡± Frank stifled his jumpy nerves. He wanted this pearl. ¡°This is acceptable.¡± Frank tried to sound nonchalant. But inside, he shivered inside with anticipation. This could be it; the way he could overcome the curse; everyone he met could remember him again. No more notes. Maybe he could create a zone around him where people¡¯s memories would hold true. He might make the pearl into an artifact, or have a static spell array? A concrete solution might be in his grasp. When the meeting moved to the requests stage, Frank¡¯s mind still ran possibilities. Could he make a bargain with Liza? Perhaps they could find a way to use the pearl for both of their benefit. She was the only sorcerer he knew who would have the necessary specializations. Who else could he consult? Owning a Shen Dragon Pearl was illegal. Could he even consult someone at the University? He almost forgot the other reason why he¡¯s come to the meeting. The leader was asking if there were any last requests before moving on when Frank finally remembered. ¡°I have been asked to broker an agreement between ¡­ a local interest and a skillful glamourist. As far as I know, the glamourist can remain anonymous.¡± ¡°What¡¯s the compensation?¡± One curious attendee asked. ¡°It¡¯s not my call. I would put the glamourist in contact with a private detective who will work with the both sides to set up a meeting.¡± ¡°A local interest. This wouldn¡¯t be a replacement of Millie Parker¡¯s old deal with the Morrows, would it?¡± ¡°It is.¡± The room seemed to grow a little colder. No one spoke for a moment. ¡°Not on your life.¡± Someone muttered. ¡°Is there no interest in this request?¡± The meeting leader eventually asked. When no one responded, the leader ended that part of the meeting and they began the individual meetings. Frank eventually met with the entirely veilled seller. They gathered in one of the rooms. The figure brought out a coarse wooden box the size of a fist and opened it, by lifting away a close fitting lid. The interior had been lined with bleached wool to protect the pearl, so the seller shifted it aside. Frank knew what to expect. Dragon pearls achieved a robust reputation among mind healers. When researching a cure to his curse on his own, Frank found at least three treatises, and several monographs alluded to them. To the uneducated eye, one might have thought it was cheap fake; an iridescent orange and yellow, and pale white and night black spots mottled over its smooth perfectly spherical surface. ¡°May I?¡± Frank asked, reaching toward the pearl. The seller nodded. Frank shifted the fluffy wool lifted it from the box. The pearl weighted less than he expected, and was roughly the size of sea turtle egg. He carefully lifted it to his mouth, and gingerly rubbed it against a tooth. It had a lightly rough feeling. It was, of course, possible that the pearl was mage created, but the pearl felt as genuine as he could detect without attempting to cast using it as a conduit. Frank wish he had a stronger light spell, to examine its irregularities; natural irregularity followed a different pattern than thaumaturge-created work. He¡¯d need to bring the components for that sort of array at the next meeting. ¡°I will check it again at the exchange.¡± Frank said. The seller agreed, and Frank put the agreement it writing, witnessed by the meeting¡¯s agent. When he left the room, the meeting had already seen many people leave. Canelo remained, but she left before he did. When Frank stepped out into the cool darkness, he tapped his stick lightly on the road home. He¡¯d have to sneak back into his own offices, but he remained cheerful; he had a pocket full of materials for his kinninnick and the potential for a genuine solution to his curse. Chapter 33: Compromise Marie Month 12, Day 15, 6:00 AM Marie worried a little bit about Poe. Not because he appeared depressed. ¡®It¡¯s not that Poe seemed sad before,¡¯ Marie thought, ¡®but he¡¯s weirdly happy.¡¯ It disturbed her. He woke before she did in the mornings! This meant, in the past two days, he¡¯d taken her out to eat for three meals each day, they¡¯d visited the park in the upper city, he¡¯d begun to teach her how to draw a dozen new glyphs and he¡¯d helped her memorize them. She¡¯d felt better, so he¡¯d allowed her to perform the spark shooting array and the raven imitating spell. Also, he supervised her practice till she felt tired. He also gave her an overview of what he called ¡°the basics¡±, although they seemed far from basic. He¡¯d started explaining potion-making to Marie, and he demonstrated his particular spell array for making magically active kinninnck. Marie was surprised that a potion could be used as a component, although Poe asserted it was a more advanced technique. He¡¯d explained how sorcerers obtained beast cores, and shown her a spell array that collected kinetic energy, although he didn¡¯t allow her to practice it. He also showed her ways to draw accurate spell arrays when she didn¡¯t have tools available, particularly after her experience in the basement made her worry that magic would remain beyond her reach if she didn¡¯t have a surface to work with. He even showed her how to make portable spell arrays on paper and ink, glass and grease pencil, a marking knife and wood, and slate and soft chalk. He showed her four techniques to steady her hand to make perfect circles as well as mechanical and non-mechanical means to divide circles and mark polygons. He taught her two different unicursal hexagrams, and third method made of two triangles, although he did not explain how their usage might differ in casting, or if they had any differing uses at all. Marie soaked it all up like a sponge. Drawing became one of her favorite activities. He just had her draw different shapes, without even a glyph in mind. He also had several sessions that frustrated her to no end; he claimed that they were to teach her ¡°how to think.¡± He¡¯d started by asking her to read a chapter in the primer, then he would pose questions, and Marie would answer. After covering the book¡¯s statements, he¡¯d keep asking questions. Only now, he began refusing to explain if she was right, and he¡¯d keep asking her questions until she exhausted every little bit of information she¡¯d collected as well as any assumptions she¡¯d made and most of the assumptions the author made as well. After she¡¯d learned how little she knew about one subject, he¡¯d just switch to the next one, including sending her to read another chapter. Marie did not think of herself as violent, but she wanted to hit him very badly. Still, this did not even begin to compare to the exercise routine. He¡¯d started on gentle but bizarre calisthetics. She would ¡°pull up¡± at a doorframe 40 times, or ¡°pushing up¡± against a wall 50 times, or lie on the ground and lifting her knees 60 times. Each exercise was strangely tiring, and yet gentle. Poe called them progressive calisthenics, and he warned her that they would get harder. After, he would have her set her feet and swing a cane in several different stationary positions; there wasn¡¯t much room in his office, but the ceiling was very tall, and they moved the desk. Exercise hurt, which Marie did not expect. She¡¯d grown up lifting laundry, washing floors, and generally pretty active work. But, perhaps her time behind a desk made her less fit. She was barely out of bed and dressed when she heard his knock. ¡°Let¡¯s start the day with the exercise!¡± He called. Marie tried not to grown aloud. But in her head she wondered when Poe would go back to the way he was. Marie met him at the door, and he had her follow him in his couch-filled room, where he had her lay on the floor. He had her start ¡°knee lifts¡± - which was a misnomer, because it was intended to strengthen her abdominal muscles. ¡°Why am I doing this? What does physical exercise have to do with Sorcery?¡± Marie asked. Poe continued watching her form, and explained. ¡°As much as it pains me to admit, the University is not there just to teach young crown family members and talented people for the benefit of society. Oh no. They are also preparing sorcerers for the magical defense of Gilbratha on behalf of the Crowns. Especially the commoners. The Defensive Magic course is always among those take by nobility. The Haze war is not so far in the past that the High Crown has forgotten it.¡± Poe watched her for a few moments, while Marie did a few more lifts. She was using all her energy to concentrate on the exercise. ¡°Tap each heel one at a time. No need to rush. Back flat though. ¡­ You might never be called up to fight, but if you are, I¡¯d prefer if you survived it, and that means being in good physical condition. The old model for instruction was theoretical, but that doesn¡¯t actually help you in a fight ¡ª as you may have noticed, knocking down a sorcerer works as well as any spell. My teachers before University taught me how to physically fight. Likewise, the current Defensive Magic professor knows his business, and works his students hard to get them in good condition. We still need to figure out if anything can be done to protect your heart. Ideally, I¡¯d have you run, but your heart defect likely prevents it.¡± ¡°Are you going to look at ¡­ the, uh, tattoo?¡± Marie had trouble referring to it. She still felt embarrassed. She hadn¡¯t told Poe about it, and it felt worse than the sorts of ordinary thievery she¡¯d done which Poe knew about. Knowing that she¡¯d learn to pick pockets wasn¡¯t nearly as embarrassing. Maybe, she felt this way because the tattooed spell array could get her killed. ¡°I may, but it¡¯s not something I studied. The Stags are aware ¡­ but I¡¯d rather go to them only as a last resort, even if healer Nidson knew his business. It¡¯s an illegal spell array, which limits who we can consult. We might need to travel to Silva Erde, and I don¡¯t have any connections there. ¡­ Don¡¯t stop now. You need to do some more.¡± Marie returned to the exercises while she thought about Poe¡¯s concerns. ¡®I knew that the spell array was dangerous and illegal.¡¯ Marie thought. ¡®Does that mean I won¡¯t be able to attend University?¡¯ This thought made her feel sick; she¡¯d never thought she wanted to attend before, but now ¡­ now she knew different. She ¡­ ¡°You can stop now; you¡¯re looking flushed. Take a few breaths.¡± Poe said, then he explained the next exercise he wanted her to do. Eventually, Poe ran her through several other physical exercises and then he announced that they would be visiting the Hands, Hearts, and Palms. Marie packed up some clothing in a sack that she hoped the laundry at the massage parlor would clean for her, and put on her nicer dress and her cloak fastened with the her garnet-studded penannular cloak pin. She again wished The Boots were ready; the shoes would let in the damp. Poe met her at the door, with his pipe smoldering as they walked. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. They crossed over into Morrows territory into the busy streets, but Marie noticed many grim looks. No one seemed cheerful, even though the sun was bright and the sky mostly free of clouds. Marie also noticed Morrows enforcers were out, looking for trouble. Still, Poe strolled along, apparently oblivious. They made their way to the Hands, Hearts, and Palms, without incident. Dinky greeted them at the door. With some prompting, he was reminded of Poe and Poe went off to discuss his contract. Marie went to the back, and visited Mama. Mama was up later than normal; apparently Madame relied on her more in the mornings than she once did. They sat and talked, and Mama passed along the latest gossip. ¡°Morrows been worried about the Stags.¡± Mama said. ¡°They looking sideways at anyone new in the territory.¡± ¡°Are the Stags making trouble?¡± ¡°No, not really. They seem to have quit their stalkin¡¯ at least the last few days.¡± Jemnie came into the laundry carrying an armful of sheets. ¡°Jemnie!¡± Marie exclaimed. ¡°Are you ok after Poe caught you?¡± Jemnie dropped the sheets into the hot soaking tank. ¡°Caught me what?¡± Jemnie asked. ¡°You know ¡­ the other day at the market?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what your talking about. I haven¡¯t seen you for awhile. Are you doing fine? They say you¡¯re working for a detective over in Stag territory?¡± ¡°You met him ¡­ I guess you don¡¯t remember. He¡¯s a sorcerer and I¡¯m learning all kinds of interesting things from him.¡± ¡°Sorcerer, eh? He¡¯s not ¡­ one of those dark sorts, is he?¡± ¡°No,¡± Marie denied, ¡°he¡¯s a good one.¡± ¡®Or, at least I think he¡¯s a good one.¡¯ Marie thought. ¡°They took me off the street a bit; someone thinks I was spotted at the market show. But, I¡¯ll be back to it soon. You want to come in again?¡± Jemnie asked. ¡°The money¡¯s been good, and Uncle says I¡¯m the best he¡¯s got right now. When we worked together you always were the best at, you know ¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m doing real work now!¡± ¡°Yeah? You think your better than us now?¡± ¡°No? It¡¯s just, I¡¯ve got a chance to be better.¡± ¡°You ain¡¯t no princess. You¡¯d best remember that.¡± ¡°Who you been talking to boy?¡± Mama asked. ¡°If my daughter wants to become a thamaturgie, thaumatig ¡­ wizard, what business is it of yours?¡± ¡°Kett says ¡­¡± ¡°Kett ain¡¯t no better than he ought to be.¡± Mama snapped. ¡°He¡¯s a decade too young to be yammering about what it takes to get on top of the heap.¡± Marie grinned. Jemnie sulked. ¡°Yeah ¡­ but ¡­¡± He muttered. ¡°There¡¯s providin¡¯ a service, selling a product, maybe even lifting a bit here an there from them that can afford it. Men like Kett though, they think all it takes to be on top is some muscle. Well, ain¡¯t no one bigger than Lord Morrow on this heap. An¡¯ he¡¯s smart, not just tough.¡± ¡°Kett says you gotta take what you want ¡­¡± ¡°An¡¯ I say don¡¯t bring too much attention to yourself. Which one of us two has been in the Morrows longer?¡± ¡°You.¡± Jemnie reluctantly agreed. ¡°That¡¯s right. Keep your head down. Find someone that can protect you like my girl done. Don¡¯t pretend to be tougher than you are.¡± ¡°Yes m¡¯am.¡± His words didn¡¯t match his defiant expression. Mama glared at the boy. ¡°You¡¯ll see Jemnie.¡± Marie said. ¡°Poe just ran off some Stags the other day. He¡¯s powerful. And clever.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± Jemnie said. But he didn¡¯t sound like he believed it. Marie helped with the laundry for a bit. She usually didn¡¯t help stir the cauldrons of steaming of clothes for cleaning, because it was too tiring, but when she took a turn at the paddle, she felt surprisingly tougher, although her arms felt like they turned to jelly. She really did need the exercise. Sometime later, Mama headed for bed, and Marie wondered where Poe had gone. He did not come and get her from the laundry. She decided to check the office. When she arrived in the hallway, the door was closed, but there was an argument going on inside that was overwhelming the privacy ward. And it wasn¡¯t just Poe. ¡°Listen, little man, you can get a kickin¡¯ like the rest of them that defy Lord Morrow. I ¡­¡± Marie heard a popping noise followed by a wordless shout, so she stepped sharply aside from the doorway. A heartbeat later, a man smashed through the door headfirst, breaking the door jam, flipping over and falling on his back with shattered and splintered wood flung down the hall before him. The man had the bewildered look of someone who wasn¡¯t sure how he ended up on the ground in pain. He began to fumble against the hallway¡¯s wall to stand, but he didn¡¯t get even halfway up before he grasped a wrist in pain, slid down into a sitting position, and leaned his back against the wall. He was reaching for something in a pocket when Poe walked through the office door trailing smoke, holding a walnut-sized conduit and a beast core between the his fingers in one hand, and pipe in the other. The koi shimmered on his coat. ¡°I¡¯ve come here in good faith.¡± Poe said. Poe¡¯s expression had a flat and cold look. His voice had a rock-like steadiness. ¡°But, I am a Sorcerer. A magician has no chance against me. You, especially. Touch that wand, and I guarantee your broken wrist and bruised ribs will be the worst of your troubles. Nod if you understand.¡± The heavy man on the floor stopped moving and seemed to calm. He moved his hand away from his pocket, and nodded. Poe drew smoke from his pipe and blew a perfectly circular smoke ring that hung lazily in the air, keeping its shape and position with an eerie lasting stillness. ¡°I have no idea why you thought I would allow you to touch me, or by what right you have to demand my sources. The Mariner has offered to teach an apprentice-level sorcerer or witch of Lord Morrow¡¯s choice the techniques of glamour that will suit your organization¡¯s needs. However. Marie will not be doing glamours for the Morrows. I will not be doing glamours for the Morrows. Nod if you understand.¡± The thug nodded. Marie recognized him as one of the two when Kett confronted her. Poe regarded him with absolute contempt in his expression. ¡°For this service, he expects to be paid. A lot.¡± Frank paused, and took another mouthful of smoke and blew it out in a stream like dragon fire. ¡°Or, you can wait for me to locate an already qualified sorcerer willing to work with you. Nod if you understand.¡± The man nodded. Poe glanced back into the office to the pale-faced Madame. ¡°You have the written offer, yes?¡± She nodded. Poe turned back to the thug on the ground. ¡°It¡¯s a shame that you will forget this.¡± Poe said to him. ¡°It¡¯s so hard to send a message that people will remember. If I write it down, it looks like a threat. It¡¯s not. I am merely trying to remind the obstinate of the consequences of crossing me. You people keep trying to intimidate me. This will not work. I have known real fear in my gut; you barely qualify as indigestion.¡± Poe¡¯s voice faded to the quiet gritty sound of two smooth river stones rubbed together. ¡°I have glimpsed the wheel of fate, worked alongside Grandmasters of magic, and cast more subtle and terrifying magics than you can possibly imagine.¡± Frank contemplated his smoke ring for a moment, and then it faded away. He sighed. And dropped a potion bottle next to thug. ¡°Healing potion. Get someone to set your wrist and then take it. Let it not be said I am unwilling to treat the Morrows with some ¡­ courtesy.¡± Frank looked to Marie, and smiled slightly. ¡°You are here. Good! Are you ready to go?¡± ¡°Um, yes. I just need to get my clothes out of the drying array.¡± Marie felt whiplash from how Poe went from chilling cold toward the thug, to pleasantly warm toward her. ¡°Excellent!¡± Poe lead them away from the office and back to the laundry. ¡°Marie, I hope that my little outburst doesn¡¯t worry you. I apologize for losing my temper. It¡¯s probably best if you do not mention it to Mama Stella.¡± ¡°Did you ¡­ curse him?¡± ¡°Oh no, nothing of that sort. I just broke his wrist with ¡®gull snatching the catch¡¯ and used ¡®throwing bags into the hold¡¯ to put him through the door. Size isn¡¯t everything, and he wasn¡¯t very well prepared. My pipe also has some little spell arrays in it that let me deal with his sort of threat.¡± Marie began to wonder what the consequences might be. Even with the curse, would Poe remain forgettable? Regardless, Marie decided that she wasn¡¯t likely to forget anytime soon. Chapter 34: Time and Memory Frank Poe Month 12, Day 15, 9:00 PM Frank lifted his components box over his head and put it through the roof hatch. He followed it up and removed a wooden framed tool chest with its shoulder straps from his back, then placed it next to the box. He used a disk from his pocket to cast a dim red light, and waited for his eyes to adjust. He¡¯d sent Marie to bed, but then he had decided, somewhat on a whim, that it was time to do a proper divination on who had sold Ennis Naught¡¯s artifacts. Poe had reexamined the file, and he¡¯d tested his will to see if it recovered from the stress of dealing with the aberrant, and he felt fine. For the last few nights, he¡¯d spent time writing and rewriting the kind of array he wanted to use. He¡¯d start with appearance. If the Raven Queen herself had sold the goods, then this might be a dead end, but even if she protected herself from divination, the shopkeeper wouldn¡¯t. Frank would scry the memories left in the wake of the sale. With luck, he¡¯d see the face of the seller. With some more luck, this would reveal someone that Frank could trace back to the Raven Queen or her location. From there, actual legwork could give him the opportunity to see the Raven Queen for himself. Her magic was becoming mythological in the streets. Rumors abounded now that it had been some time since her last public appearance; was she preparing for her next big move? Canelo seemed no closer to finding her, although Frank would not be sharing his results with her, unless he could see some advantage, which he did not. The University wanted the treasure she¡¯d stolen pretty desperately, but if they were competent, what plan did they have to scry for her? Frank suspected that the Coppers or the University would resort to the the most powerful divination team they could get their hands on. A hundred and fifty thousand thaums or more, if they were trying to scry for an immediate location-based divination. In Frank¡¯s opinion, Caidan¡¯s Theorem had so many holes it could let an entire of school of fish through it, but it still worked. This would be a spell with Grandmaster or greater power. Still, the Coppers had blood and a head start. Frank has some names in mind if he were to pick a group to scry for the Raven Queen, including the prognos Masters he¡¯d known when he studied. If he didn¡¯t act soon, they¡¯d have her in hand before he¡¯d even get a chance. But, he doubted even masters would find her. His fate scrying suggested the Raven Queen was more elusive than anyone had the right to be. Frank planned a spell much less specific, and not based on location. The stars were out, but the moon had not risen. His divination would draw upon the starlight as a component. Night was for dreams and visions, secrets and hidden thoughts. Easier to hide, perhaps, but also a time for discovery and inspiration. He grabbed his long bar compass, metal scribe, brush, and pale white moon silver and crushed conduit ink. Once he gathered his tools, he began to mark and draw out a massive tetragram. He worked slowly and precisely. Written instructions and runes went into place. He placed Ennis¡¯ possessions as the focus, and selected components for scrying the past, but also items to give him a vision of the person he would be looking for. From the prospective of the shop owner and the objects themselves, he could expect fairly good detail. And, he wasn¡¯t far away from the events he wanted to scry, so this wouldn¡¯t take the many thousands of thaums other types of scrying would. Still, the spell would take all the power he could muster, and over a thousand thaums; so he switched to his massive heirloom conduit to give himself plenty of buffer; his smaller conduit could handle a master-level spell, but there was no danger of exceeding the conduit at all with the monstrous heirloom. Just as he sat crosslegged, and began to clear his mind, he heard the sound of the roof hatch opening. ¡°Master?¡± Marie called from behind him. ¡°It¡¯s past midnight. Why are you up here in the cold?¡± ¡°I am going to scry for the seller.¡± Frank thought for a moment. ¡°Would you like to see what I see?¡± Frank wasn¡¯t looking in her direction, but he could her her excitement in her stride as she crossed to his spot. ¡°Yes! Please?¡± ¡°I offered. I¡¯m not likely to go back on my word now.¡± Frank replied. He stood and added to the array as Marie looked on. In the starlight, she was a little smudge of midnight black, except her pale, moon-like, face. Her black eyes watched him with the curiosity only the very young still possessed. Frank hoped she could retain that desire to learn everything all at once. Curiosity would serve her well as a sorcerer. Understanding came from seeking, not finding. ¡°Are you dressed warmly enough?¡± Frank asked. ¡°We may be sitting for some time as I build power.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Marie replied. Frank guided her to a spot next to him so that they could sit closely together, and Frank could share the divination vision with Marie. It might take a bit more will, but Frank felt he could manage it. He placed his ancient stone scrying bowl in the array, and it would allow him and Marie to watch the events of the past. It had been hours in preparation, but Frank felt more alert and awake than he¡¯d felt for days. He began to feed power to the spell from one of his larger beast cores, and shared the vision in the bowl with Marie. Together, they peered into the past. This spell travelled backward through time, so the vision started from the shopkeeper¡¯s perspective of handling the goods before Frank bought them. The curse seemed to have severed all memory in the objects of Frank or the trip from the shop to August Agency. Frank noted for himself this aspect of his curse; it was more than just memory the curse seemed to remove; it also removed him from history. He would have to consider how to counter this when he obtained the pearl. Regardless, he soon had a clear look into the shop as visitors gazed at Ennis¡¯ possessions, little knowing how important that they were. They were moments of haze as Poe tried to move through this quickly, but then he found the moment when the shopkeeper first put his eyes on the monogramed smoking box. At first, it seemed like the shop keeper did not even look at the seller, which would have set Frank back to the first step, but then the image shifted as the shopkeeper haggled over the items and some men¡¯s clothing. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. The seller eventually came into view. Well dressed and tall, beautiful and melancholy, with black eyes and pale blond hair. The eyes struck Frank as reminiscent of Marie¡¯s, or ¡­ the Raven Queen¡¯s. Frank stopped the movement of time to carefully examine the image. His clothes and bearing gave him away as a young scion of a crown family or the son of a wealthy merchant. Frank couldn¡¯t imagine a less likely contact with the Raven Queen. But Marie gasped. ¡°Master Poe. I ¡­ I know him.¡± Frank he felt a thrill of shock. Nothing so great to break his concentration on the spell, but he took a moment to make sure the spell stabilized before he spoke. ¡°How?¡± ¡°Well, um. I think I saw him at the University!¡± Frank dropped the spell. He fixed the image of the young man clearly in his mind; that would be necessary for the next step of the spell. ¡°You think?¡± He asked. ¡°He might not be the same, right, but he walked in front of me when I waited on the bench.¡± Frank thought about this for a moment. ¡°Okay. We¡¯ll try the next stage of the spell and see what we can find. Wait till after, and we¡¯ll talk about it.¡± Frank now knew what he was looking for, he would follow the flow of time backward to see where the boy obtained Naught¡¯s trinkets. If it was too far away, Frank still might be able to move closer to the location and try again. Frank began the attempt to scry the boy, and Frank felt the spell resist him. Frank began to pour on power, but the blonde refused to appear in the scrying bowl. Not even in the shop. Instead, the water turned dark, almost black. Frank tried to move backward in time in the history of the trinkets, but there was nothing to see. Not where they had been taken from, or anything that might have revealed where they had travelled. Frank tried to use the tenuous connection with the objects to follow the young man out of the shop. The instant, however, that the spell would shift to him, the spell array would drain power and begin to glow, siphoning off into the null. Nothing. Frank tried several different concepts; the boy¡¯s memories caused the array to become dangerously hot and bright, the touch of his hands on the swag couldn¡¯t seem to connect to an anchor, anyone else that may have touched the material, until it just showed Ennis pawing through the pack while the shape of a dark haired young girl blurred in the background. Frank couldn¡¯t even tell how long ago that had been. Frank concluded that had the seller¡¯s appearance, but nothing else. He let the array go; his will was tiring, and more power did nothing. He turned to Marie. ¡°He is more slippery than an eel. His anti-divination wards seem formidable, especially if they even fight off time and memory magic. I have to link to him, but it¡¯s not a powerful enough; he remains undetectable. Are you sure you saw him before? What can you tell me about him?¡± Frank asked. ¡°While I waited for you to send a message, I saw some students. One of them was a Westbay.¡± ¡°Westbay?¡± Frank¡¯s eyes widened involuntarily. ¡°This man is a Westbay?¡± ¡°No. This one was with Westbay. I think. A blonde boy who teased him.¡± ¡°Did you catch his name?¡± ¡°Maybe, I don¡¯t know. Silver-something? I¡¯ll remember it if I give myself some time to think.¡± ¡°One moment, I¡¯m going to rework the array, and we¡¯ll examine your memory.¡± Frank stood up, rubbing the stiffness from his legs, and he busied himself changing the array and moving the components. He had a variety of components for memory already; after all, he had the recipe for a memory potion that would, at least temporarily, allow people to remember him: an ancient black silhouette of an forgotten lady, an empty cameo locket, delicate piece of storm elephant ivory, and other items that Frank swapped with the current time components he¡¯d originally selected. Frank sat Marie inside the circle, and he sat just on the outside, but in another circle, and he had her look him in they eyes. ¡°Marie. I will scry your memories. This is a safe spell, but you must trust me. Do you?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Good. It¡¯s possible that if you were in the correct frame of mind, you would remember this anyway. So, first we¡¯ll get you in the right mental state. I need to you to listen to my voice. Relax your body. Feel just your breath. Breath in.¡± Frank paused to watch Marie¡¯s chest swell slightly. ¡°Breath out.¡± Marie¡¯s breath steamed. It had been colder lately. Frank continued to speak in murmuring tones, emphasizing that Marie focus on the sensations of breathing and relaxing. When he could see her relaxing, he moved on to the next step. ¡°This is a memory spell. You will share a memory with me, but first, I need you to focus on the memory. The sights of that day. The sounds. Are you focused on that moment?¡± ¡°Yes ¡­ I think I remember the name ¡­¡± ¡°No need to rush. We will connect though our eyes. Eyes are the windows of the mind. You will look through mine, and I will look through yours.¡± Marie had closed her eyes during the breathing, but she opened her eyes and stared directly into Frank¡¯s own. ¡°Will I see your memories?¡± ¡°No. We will just share your memory together.¡± Frank activated the spell array. It was precise and channeled his desire perfectly. After a moment of disorientation, it was as he remembered the day, walking the path with her. Her memory was crisp and clear. ¡°Now,¡± Frank said. ¡°Let your memory travel through this moment. You sat on the bench?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Marie replied. And Frank saw her sit, from her point of view. The memory was sharp and clear, and far better than Frank¡¯s scrying of the junk shop. ¡°Now, go slowly and try to recall the sequence of events.¡± The memory began to scroll forward, and Frank realized her recall was nearly perfect. It would be easy to fill in the incorrect details; memories had that sort of tendency, but Marie¡¯s mind kept careful track of everything she¡¯d seen. He realized that she might even have a eidetic memory. This spell would enhance recall, but it relied on the person to have a good quality memory to start. Marie¡¯s attention turned to a group of students. To Frank they were mostly ordinary, but he did see a young man that looked much like the Westbays he knew, and another that seemed like the young Gervin heir. Rarified company indeed. And among them was the same man that had sold Ennis Naught¡¯s trinkets. Even better, Marie could recall the exact words of their conversation. ¡®Silverling, will you be passing on pointers to us in Burberry¡¯s class?¡¯ The Westbay asked. ¡®Westbay,¡¯ Sebastien Silverling replied, ¡®if you¡¯re inadequately attentive on your own, you can hardly expect me to make up the difference for you.¡± Frank watched a bit more as the trio walked out of sight. He let the spell go. Marie swayed a bit. ¡°Shhh. Relax a moment. Let your body come back to the present.¡± Frank watched Marie carefully. She closed her eyes, but Marie smiled. ¡°Silvering! That¡¯s his name.¡± ¡°Sebastien Silvering, in fact.¡± Frank said, unable to keep the shock from his voice. ¡°Thaddeus Lacer¡¯s apprentice.¡± ¡°How do you know him?¡± ¡°Lacer told me weeks ago, when he stopped by and asked me to find a way to meet the Raven Queen.¡± ¡°You think that Silverling is in contact with Raven Queen?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Frank replied. ¡°But now that I know who to look for ¡­ Scrying isn¡¯t the only way to find a person. People have habits. Especially University students. They can¡¯t help it; it¡¯s just a matter of finding him when he is away from the University and following him. Especially easy for him, because those student tokens are designed to be tracked. It doesn¡¯t matter how good Silverling¡¯s anti-divination is.¡± Chapter 35: Sheltering Marie Month 12, Day 17, 9:00 AM Sitting at her table in the office, Marie took a bite of her breakfast porridge. Poe left early to watch the University. He needed to scan Silverling¡¯s token, so that he could trace the man as he travelled around the city. But, getting access to Silverling was more difficult than Poe had expected. He did not want either Silverling or Professor Lacer to know that he had decided to spy, so he would go early to campus and try to watch for Silverling by the ornamental gardens near the lifts. He assured Marie that eventually Silvering would leave the university to either meet the Raven Queen, or whoever had him fence the trinkets. ¡°Could he have just stolen the trinkets himself?¡± Marie had asked. Poe thought about this for a while. ¡°This is a good question.¡± Poe eventually replied. Marie noticed that he did not actually answer it. So, Marie sat at the desk, muscles slightly aching from the progressive calisthenics Poe made her do every morning, eating a rich oat porridge¡ªwith caramel ham-hock in¡ª and reading the primer. Poe had moved her to the geometry chapters, and she found the ideas there fascinating. The radius of all circles had the same proportion to it¡¯s circumference? No matter how big or small? Marie have gone through the physical proof several times because it fascinated her. As she reviewed the construction of triangles, the alarms sounded. Marie shivered uncontrollably in fear. ¡®An aberrant?¡¯ The alarm did not sound close, but she jumped up and locked the office, bringing her book with her, as she left for the shelter. Shelters this close to the Mires were not spacious, and the press of people would be horrible, but Marie would take no chances. She¡¯d already encountered one aberrant, and that was plenty. Even as she walked as fast as she could, her chest aching, she tried to get her emotions under control. She took a long slow breath, just as Poe has been teaching her, to help her center he will. What would Poe say if he thought she was behaving fearfully? Going to a shelter was the prudent and reasonable precaution anyone would take. No one would blame her if she rushed a little. The young girl that Marie suspected was the Stag¡ªwho had the office under now constant surveillance¡ªstepped away from the corner and followed her. But, soon Marie was among the crowd going into the underground shelter that was marked as warded. She maneuvered through the crowd, but she couldn¡¯t find a comfortable corner to sulk in. Instead, she ended up sitting between two families and attempting to look unobtrusive. Eventually, however, the Stag teen found her. Marie grinned to herself at the teen¡¯s effort to conceal herself. She was facing away from Marie at an angle, but kept her eyes swiveled hard to the side, watching her. From her blind side, Jemnie bumped into her. ¡°Careful there! Why¡¯re you standin¡¯ in the middle floor like that?¡± Marie rolled her eyes at Jemnie, who gave her a wink. He¡¯d pickpocketed something off the Stag teen, Marie was sure, although she hadn¡¯t seen it. ¡°Oh, is this a friend of yours then?¡± Jemnie called to her. Marie half covered her eyes with a hand. ¡°Not exactly.¡± She answered. ¡°Oh, then a secret admirer.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± The girl protested. ¡°Well, who are you then?¡± ¡°Cory.¡± ¡°Cory! Well then, per¡¯aps you should clear off and leave my friend Marie alone.¡± Marie didn¡¯t like where this was going. ¡°It¡¯s ok Jemnie.¡± Marie said. She had an idea. ¡°Come on over here Cory, where you can keep an eye on me properly.¡± ¡°Hey, I don¡¯t ¡­¡± Cory started, but Jemnie smirked at her, and she stopped talking and just allowed Jemnie to guide her over to Marie. Up close, Marie saw Cory was shorter than she thought, but her body was thin, like she¡¯d been a bit short on food. ¡°So? You work for the Stags then?¡± Marie whispered to Cory. Jemnie¡¯s eyes narrowed. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°It¡¯s nothin¡¯ person¡¯l. They just asked me to keep an eye out for ¡­ trouble.¡± ¡°Morrows you mean?¡± Jemnie asked. ¡°What, you aren¡¯t a Morrow are you?¡± Cory looked Jemnie up and down. Jemnie wasn¡¯t wearing colors, so the girl didn¡¯t realize. ¡°What¡¯s it to ya?¡± Jemnie replied, a hint of menace in his voice. ¡°Now now!¡± Marie said. ¡°We¡¯re in shelter and there¡¯s no fighting in shelter.¡± She looked over to the watcher by the door. ¡°If there¡¯s an aberrant out there, I don¡¯t want to get kicked out to face it.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± Jemnie said. Cory also nodded. They stood in silence for a while, and eventually they sat on the floor. The people in the shelter mostly tended to be quiet, although there was a constant murmur of hushed voices. Marie pulled out her little journal and began to look over it and tried to transfer notes to herself on the latest geometry she learned. ¡°What you writing?¡± Jemnie asked. ¡°Just notes on geometry. I¡¯ve been studying shapes.¡± ¡°Is that thaumaturgy?¡± Cory asked. ¡°I was tol¡¯ that Mr. Poe was a sorcerer. Is that true? I never saw him.¡± Jemnie looked irritated. ¡°Yes, he is a sorcerer.¡± Marie replied. ¡°And, you did see him, this morning in fact, and the other week when you followed us around.¡± ¡°I never done.¡± Cory said. She turned to Jemnie, ¡°Have you seen him ¡­?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think so ¡­¡± Jemnie admitted. Marie sighed and returned to taking notes. They were so thick. ¡°So, anyway, is that sorcery?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m just practicing different shapes.¡± Marie replied. Poe promised this would make her sorcery better. According to him, drawing was the gateway to imagination. If she could understand porportion and shape well, she¡¯d have an easier time with illusions, which despite Poe pretending otherwise, he was very good with. But, the two spies seemed to find her notes and drawings fascinating. ¡®They must be bored.¡¯ She thought. Eventually the all clear sounded. They didn¡¯t say why the alarms had been set off, but it the Red Guard must have cleared it up very quickly, because they were in the shelter hardly any time at all. Marie still felt a little anxious, and she realized she didn¡¯t want to be in the office alone. She stood up and made her way to the Agency. The weather had remained cold, and Marie wished, again, that The Boots were done. She also thought about how it must be to sit on the corner watching the August Agency. Walking home, the two annoying spies trailed behind, a little hostile to each other, and getting into little shoving matches, until Marie finally had to lay down the law. ¡°That¡¯s it! Stop acting like horses¡¯ ass. You can follow me about, if you must, but the August Agency is neutral.¡± Marie decided desperate measures were called for. ¡°Stop being dumb and come inside for a tea.¡± ¡°Hot tea?¡± Cory asked suspiciously. ¡°Of course, hot tea.¡± Marie snapped. ¡°With her?¡± Jemnie asked. ¡°Yes. We¡¯re going to have a nice tea, and relax, and be glad that an aberrant didn¡¯t kill us all and sup on our bones.¡± Marie replied icily. The other two paled. She led them inside and left them in the outer hallway, where she figured they couldn¡¯t get into too much trouble, because the office¡¯s door was still locked. After making tea in her rooms, she came down the stairs carrying a tray with pot of hot tea and cups, and she found the two staring murderously at each other. ¡°Come on then.¡± Marie said cheerfully. ¡°We¡¯ll have some tea, and everyone will feel a little better.¡± She led them into the office. She had overseen the purchase of a couple of additional chairs for the waiting area in the last few days, so she dragged them to her table, and set the spies down across from her. They sipped tea warily for a few moments. Marie put her cup down, and glared at them. ¡°Jemnie, I think it¡¯s time you returned what you stole.¡± He thrust out his chin. ¡°What?¡± Cory sputtered mid sip. Jemnie sighed, reached in a pocket, and put a small battered folding knife on the table. ¡°Hey, that¡¯s mine!¡± Cory grabbed it. ¡°I know.¡± Marie said. ¡°That¡¯s why I wanted Jemnie to give it back. You two are enough trouble as it is.¡± ¡°But ¡­¡± Cory started. ¡°Neutral. Remember? Not that either of you are particularly good at remembering.¡± They glared at her across the table. Marie continued. ¡°I already know that the Stags are watching because they are worried the Master Poe is a spy or a plant for the Morrows.¡± Marie nodded toward Cory. ¡°But, Jemnie, what I can¡¯t figure out is why you¡¯d be all the way over here, when you should be doing marks in the Market. So, are the Morrows watching me?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not supposed to tell.¡± Jemnie looked away and mumbled. ¡°So, yes. Is it Kett?¡± ¡°He ¡­ yeah.¡± Marie wondered how they¡¯d gotten into this mess. ¡°Why?¡± Jemnie gave Cory a sideways look. ¡°He says that he wants to meet the Mariner fellow Mr. Poe told Madame about. Maybe he can be bribed into helping us.¡± ¡°Does Mama know you¡¯re spying?¡± Jemnie shrugged. Marie considered just denying ever hearing about a Mariner, because she hadn¡¯t heard them name or met them. But, she decided instead to remain quiet. Hardly anything ever got worse for keeping your mouth shut, and mentioning her ignorance wouldn¡¯t help. She took another sip, and then the door burst open as Poe strode in with a whirl of color, his long embroidered coat fastened up to his neck. Chapter 36: The Quiet Boots Marie Month 12, Day 17, 11:30 AM ¡°Marie! and guests. As soon as I got the all clear, I decided to return here.¡± Poe¡¯s expression seemed worried. ¡°Nothing has gone ¡­ wrong, while I was out? You sheltered well?¡± ¡°Yes, Master Poe.¡± ¡°Are these clients?¡± Poe asked. Marie smiled at his optimism. But, she suspected he knew they were not. ¡°No. Sadly. You recall Jemnie, and this is Cory.¡± Marie gestured. ¡°Ah, of course, our spies from the Morrows and the Stags. Better get back out there Cory, your partner followed me all the way back from the walls.¡± Poe grinned. ¡°I don¡¯t think you have a buddy following me today, do you Jemnie? Still, you wouldn¡¯t want to miss us, would you? If you wait at the corner, I¡¯ll be sure to wave as Marie and I walk past.¡± The two spies looked awkwardly at Poe. ¡®Embarrassed,¡¯ Marie thought. ¡°But, you should also know Marie and I are headed out, immediately. Business, you understand. No point in watching an empty office!¡± Poe waved them out of the office, although Marie noticed that Cory did seem to have drunk the entire cup of tea. ¡°Now. Get your warm things on, we¡¯re walking to Waterside Market to pick up your boots!¡± ¡°The Boots?!¡± Marie hopped up. They were ready? ¡°When did you find out they were ready?¡± ¡°I met the messenger at the door.¡± Marie grinned. She¡¯d finally have The Boots. She¡¯d been looking forward to it for forever. Less than an hour later she was lacing up The Boots in front of an attentive assistant at the cordwainer¡¯s shop. The lady assistant helped adjust the fit so that The Boots fit just as perfectly as Marie imagined. When she stood in them, it felt like her feet were on a cushion of air. She took a few steps. ¡°Oh! They are so quiet!¡± ¡°Yes. These soles are quieter than hobnailed leather or wood. But, not only are they quiet, these will outlast anything you might find form other shops. Take some time to get used to them.¡± The attendant explained. Marie walked around a bit in the shop, while the attendant and Poe looked on. ¡°Poe!¡± Marie whirled toward him. ¡°Thank you so much! These are amazing.¡± Poe smiled, almost like he was genuinely happy. After the shop supplied Marie with a tin of alchemical waterproofing, and provided an approved list of cobblers to service The Boots on a printed card, Poe and Marie left the shop and head toward a place for lunch. Marie had to skip, just a little. The Boots bounced slightly, making her feet feel cushioned by air. ¡®The Boots are Bouncy.¡¯ Marie thought. The spies picked them up from down the block. Cory, Jemnie, and another boy. Poe pulled out his pipe and lit the bowl. Marie thought the smoke smelled a little of flowers. ¡°Take my hand a moment.¡± Poe offered as they walked. Marie looked at his hand skeptically. She suspected Poe planned some magic. She noticed he had a conduit tucked into the hand the held the pipe. ¡°Don¡¯t worry.¡± He said. Marie took his hand. As they walked past an alley between two buildings, smoke billowed from the pipe making a cloud of whiteness. Poe used the smoke as cover to bring them into the alley unobserved. But, as they went, Marie noticed that two figures, which looked very much like her and Poe kept moving down the street and out of the smoke. Poe motioned for Marie to press herself against the alley wall. As they watched from the alley, the trailing spies hurried past chasing the phantoms. As soon as all three had moved up the street, Poe pulled them from the alley and waved down a cab. Marie giggled to herself. She would have loved to see the expression on Cory¡¯s face. Once settled in the cab, Poe relaxed and put the pipe away. ¡°Won¡¯t they notice?¡± ¡°That we¡¯ve disappeared in a puff of smoke? Of course. But, I doubt they¡¯ll figure out where they even lost us.¡± Poe laughed. ¡°I love a bit of illusion magic. I¡¯ll never regret working so hard to make this pipe. About now, my curse probably even confusing them even more.¡± ¡°Maybe we shouldn¡¯t be teasing them so much. Jemnie is following us because Kett wants to find someone called the Mariner?¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ¡°Does he?¡± Poe smirked. ¡°He¡¯ll be disappointed.¡± Marie wondered who the Mariner was, but she was certain he wasn¡¯t a client, otherwise she would have been involved ¡­ unless it was something to do with the black market sorcerers. ¡°So,¡± Poe said as they travelled toward what Marie hoped would be lunch, ¡°How did you cope with the alarms?¡± ¡°Fine.¡± Marie said. ¡°Really?¡± Frank replied. ¡°For my part, I had a few minutes of dizziness and anxiety, and it took some time to get control over myself. ¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Marie thought for a few moments. How did she feel about it? Despite the bright day, she felt the dark basement right there with her again. The helplessness. Her fear. ¡°Marie. You¡¯re crying. Take this handkerchief.¡± ¡°Sorry.¡± She said. She slowly got control over her emotions. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize it was that bad.¡± ¡°Even though getting the boots seemed to cheer you up, you have been feeling erratic; you might not realize this, but you are expressing your will outside the boundaries of your body. You need to pull it in. I tend to be sensitive to this sort of disturbance. We¡¯ll eat, and I¡¯ll teach you some exercises to help you calm yourself. Also, a little anxiety potion, perhaps. I know a good apothecary we can visit.¡± Marie nodded. The tears eventually stopped, and they rode for a few more minutes until thr cab stopped at a restaurant close to the wall. ¡°Went I was a student, we used to sneak out to this place when we could. You are supposed to eat all your meals on campus. But, sometimes when the bad food gets to be too much, wealthier kids will come here for ¡®books¡¯.¡± Marie didn''t quite get it until she saw the combined cafe and book store built from the white stone cliffs with decorative columns and large shop windows, called ¡°Roget¡¯s University Bookshop¡±. Aside from being two full stories of books shelved from floor to ceiling, the attached cafe had a dozen white stone tables inside with chairs that seemed more decorative than comfortable. Poe suggested some food and and drink, and they sat at a table and watch students arrive and purchase food, and even the occasional book. ¡°Books are, despite recent innovations, still expensive. The students rarely need to buy them, because they have access to the University, but there are plenty of fictional novels and the like.¡± ¡°Like, just a book with made-up stories?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°Why would you buy that?¡± Poe seemed taken aback by this question. ¡°No, I don¡¯t suppose someone like you would. Let¡¯s just say some people enjoy it.¡± They ate in silence while Marie contemplated the idea that people would write down made up stories and then sell them in books. ¡®Telling an entertaining story now and again made some sense, but why go to all the effort to print it?¡¯ Marie thought. ¡®Maybe people didn¡¯t know any good story tellers?¡¯ She looked around the book filled shop. ¡®Must money in it.¡¯ After, although it was past noon, they hung around park near the lifts watching for Silverling. ¡°What if he passed by when we were eating?¡± Marie wondered. ¡°There¡¯s no hurry.¡± Poe replied. ¡°Silverling isn¡¯t trying to escape our notice. He¡±s probably not looking in shop windows, doubling back on his path, and what not to try to find a tail. Besides, I don¡¯t need to tail him. I just need to see him.¡± Poe tapped his glasses. ¡°The spell array I installed here will let me know the code on his token. With the token code, I can¡¯t exactly watch him move about the city, but I can put up sensors that will let me know roughly where he is. Triangulation will do the rest. We can see who he visits. It should be very helpful to put together the connections. This will be good experience for you, I¡¯ll show you how enchanting works!¡± ¡°What do you mean triangulation?¡± ¡°Oh, you¡¯ll like this. Do you have paper?¡± Poe borrowed Marie¡¯s grimoire/notebook, and drew a coarse map of the city, then a series of dots over the page. The he explained to her how someone moving among the dots would ping these artifacts. Knowing which ones received the signal, and a minimum of three, Poe would be able to find Sebastien wherever he might go. ¡°There¡¯s lots of ways this could be interfered with, of course. The simplest would be if Sebastian hides his token, misplaces it, or if he gives it to someone else. BUT, even if he does give it to someone else, that will give us a connection to examine.¡± Poe explained. Poe also showed Marie some of the tiny spell arrays in his pipe and how he would draw upon them. ¡°Could you make other artifacts with portable spell arrays?¡± ¡°I suppose. But, without many years and a large amount of will, spell arrays require more precise instructions for most sorcerers. You, for instance, are many years from casting the illusion spell I did with the smoke.¡± Marie wondered what she¡¯d be like when she was that sort of sorcerer. They kept chatting and waiting for Silvering to appear. He did not. Finally, after the sun set, they hurried to the apothecary to get the potions that Poe mentioned. He had in mind a mild anti-anxiety potion that should help them both; relieving the stress and tension without being addictive. And, he was low on healing potion. He explained he could make his own, but he preferred a professionally made potion instead. Marie found the almost scentless potion shop an extremely different sort of place than the Verdant Stag¡¯s little room of potions and salves. The bottles had elegant printed labels, and the shelves made of close grained light wood. The staff wore clean white clothes, with white aprons that did not show a speck of dust or dirt. The floor shone that Marie almost didn¡¯t want to tread on it. Even in her nicest dress, and The Boots, she felt a little shabby. Poe, of course, took no special notice of these things. He simply walked to the counter and ordered several potions by name. As the attendant was wrapping his purchases, another customer entered the shop. Marie turned and gasped. She grabbed Poe¡¯s sleeve and tugged at it. Poe looked down at her, and then to where her eyes had settled on the young blond man who entered. Sebastien Silverling. If Silverling¡¯s coincidental arrival surprised him, Poe did not show it in the slightest. ¡°One more moment my dear, and then we¡¯ll go.¡± Poe murmured. He finished paying and took a wrapped parcel away from the counter. Poe picked up the package and put it in Maries arms. If Silverling noticed her, or Poe, he showed no sign. In fact he seemed like he was on a mission for something specific. Marie didn¡¯t know what strange potion he asked for, but Marie saw a glitter in Poe¡¯s hand and he briefly touched his hand to the circular lenses of his glasses. There was a brief glow. Poe guided Marie from the store, although she wanted to observe the boy more. There was something attractive about him. Striking. She wasn¡¯t sure what it was. As the walked away, Poe dropped his conduit back into a pocket. ¡°Got it!¡± He whispered. Chapter 37: The Rain is Going to Come Frank Poe Month 12, Day 18, 2:00 PM Frank had spent his morning enchanting little round disks that would pass divination rays back to a spelled street map he kept his office, then distributing them at some of the places he expected Silverling might frequent. He¡¯d placed the first batch in the morning, and it was afternoon when he finally returned. On return, Marie did not seem to miss Frank; she studied and read at her table without complaint. From time to time, he noticed she¡¯d tap the toe of her new boots on the table leg and grin. They were very quiet, and apparently ¡°bouncy.¡± Marie had gushed about them on the walk back to Agency yesterday. Even that morning, the spies still spied, of course, but Poe didn¡¯t even have to resort to diversionary magic when Marie wasn¡¯t with him. If they broke visual contact with him, the spies pretty much forgot that they were following him. The streets of Gilbratha were plenty convoluted enough to manage it. Annoyingly, however, the Stag spy seemed to have figured out that she should take notes. He¡¯d caught glimpses her notebooks as she followed him. It wouldn¡¯t be long before the Morrow spies did the same, although Jemnie didn¡¯t seem to be literate, even though he often worked with someone. Usually he had a rail thin partner, whether male or female, Poe hadn¡¯t discovered yet. That one usually followed Poe, while he supposed Jemnie was set to follow Marie. People would remember Poe, he knew that much. So the spies always managed to return to the August Agency to keep watch. Poe decided he¡¯d need to do something about that, but not today. Today he was going to test his new monitoring system. He just had a few coins placed; both spelled with unnoticeability charms and the specialty divination detector for Silverling¡¯s token. Frank waved at Marie, walked into his office, and sat at his desk where the scry map was waiting for him. This would just be a test, so he set the components and expected a null result. He¡¯d just seen Silverling in the city yesterday; there was no reason for him to return. Except, it seemed that he did, because Silverling immediately pinged on the little enchanted coins he¡¯d placed near the market. It could be a malfunction, but Frank was confident it was not. Frank jumped up from his desk, then let Marie know he was going back out. Partly to avoid the spies, Frank walked a few blocks and hailed a cab. When he arrived at waterside market, it took him some time to locate Silverling. When he found him, Frank was surprised to see the well-dressed man attempting to sell a small cerelium conduit. Frank did not want to be too noticeable; an apprentice of Lacer¡¯s might very well have the clarity of will to recall Frank. But, even as Frank sulked in doorways and tried to stay in Silverling¡¯s blind spot, Silverling was entirely to distracted by the low prices the shops were willing to offer. Frank did take a risk to get a good look at the chunk of cerelium Silverling attempted to sell. From time to time cerelium was marked, but this one was plain. It would have been a mere 25 gold when Frank last looked for a piece of it, so the prices offered, some over 50 gold, seemed high to him. Silverling, however, rejected them as too low. Frank wondered how much money did Silverling expect to get? Why was he driving such a hard bargain? After trying a few shops, Silverling finally stomped onto the pavement. Head down in contemplation, Silverling trudged back toward the University. Frank followed. Not far from the market, Silverling suddenly stopped. He seemed to have spotted something, although Frank couldn¡¯t tell at first what the young man had seen. Silverling walked over to a downspout, and Frank stopped not far away, then carefully removing a seashell artifact from his coat, he held it up to an ear, and listened. ¡°This is a bad place to make a nest,¡± he said. ¡°The rain is going to come and wash you all away.¡± Frank puzzled at that for a moment, and then realized Silverling was talking to a tiny nest of Sprites at the downspout. Frank watched, fascinated, as the young thaumaturge proceeded to attempt to rescue the sprites from their poor choices. But, the adult didn¡¯t seem to want to be moved. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. But then, Silverling did something that Frank did not expect. He expressed his will in a soothing wave. Like a druid, or animist. ¡°I don¡¯t want to hurt you,¡± he whispered. Frank¡¯s artifact barely caught the sound. ¡°You are not safe. I want to take you to a new nest. It will be warm and dry there. You can trust me.¡± And Frank felt it; even across the street, Silvering¡¯s words held genuine sincerity. ¡®What sort of thaumaturge is he?¡¯ Frank thought. ¡®No one teaches the old ways. Not to a first term student, anyway.¡¯ Frank used some animism at the August Agency. It helped him communicate with Frigg, and even kept him aware of the other animals that lived, even in the city, near the office. But, Silverling¡¯s control impressed Frank.¡®Lacer isn¡¯t training him to do this too, is he?¡¯ This man may be young, but Frank Poe wondered what he would be like in a year. Frank had once felt competent, in contrast, this boy had Talent. Frank had long ago given up on jealousy. He hated incompetence, even in himself. Sometimes though, he would still come across amazing skill in others. Silverling managed to coax the sprite into a scarf covered hand, and feed it honey. He gathered up the nest and headed toward the University. The sprite ate honey the entire way back to the University. Frank noted that not only did Silverling know to use his will to calm the creature, but he knew the proper way to care for one when relocating a nest. Frank found that it wasn¡¯t particularly difficult to follow the distracted young man. After all, the sprite had him throughly distracted. Frank could practically walk behind Silverling, and he did not notice at all. ¡®What do you plan to do with the sprite, I wonder?¡¯ Frank thought. ¡®There are some very useful spell components in a sprite. Or, if he was so greedy on the value of that little chunk of cerelium, does he plan to sell the nesting sprites?¡¯ Silverling made his way to the top of the cliffs and the University, nursing the little sprites the whole way. The tiny mother seemed to very greatly enjoy the honey Silverling fed her. Frank had to negotiate a visitor¡¯s pass, but he managed to catch up with Silverling by a tree not far away. Frank leaned against a tree at a distance, and watched, to his surprise, that Silverling was digging out a space at the base of tree for the sprites to have a new nest. Several girls had noticed Frank watching, and they joined him in curiously watching Silverling¡¯s behavior as well. Frank had to keep his listening artifact discreet, so he put it away. They whispered to each other, and Frank did not bother listening. But one girl¡¯s curiosity finally reached the point she decided asking a stranger was preferable to ignorance. ¡°What is he doing? Do you know?¡± She asked Frank. ¡°Relocating a sprite nest.¡± Frank replied. ¡°Oh! They are very pretty, aren¡¯t they? Its so kind of him!¡± The girl said to her friend. When Silverling was done, he whispered something that Frank didn¡¯t catch, and Frank observed him head toward the dormitories. Frank reckoned Silverling was unlikely to lead him to the Raven Queen, and he let the young man go. ¡°Let¡¯s go see the nest!¡± The girl said to her friend, and the headed over.Frank trailed behind. Uncertain what he expected, Frank saw Silverling had protected the nest from wind and rain, and had added a component that would warm it. ¡®This cost him money.¡¯ Frank wondered. ¡®What sort of person does this?¡¯ Frank felt uncomfortable in his thoughts; it was inconsistent with a young entitled thaumaturge. ¡®This is someone associated with the Raven Queen?¡¯ Frank expected cruelty or ambition, but the man gave up real income and even magical components to help a sprite live, even though he¡¯d just wandered through shops trying to sell a cerelium conduit for the most gold possible. Frank had to admire Silverling, a little bit. Even when he obviously did not care if others saw, Silverling would help even what most thaumaturges thought was no more than an interesting bug. Frank observed the girls cooing over the little sprite larva, and he smiled. He vowed he would keep an open mind with Silverling. The young sorcerer had that unusual quality few ambitious thaumaturges had: empathy. Silverling had not lead Frank to the Raven Queen, but Frank reckoned this would always have been the most time-consuming way to find Siobhan Naught. Silverling was the best connection he had outside the Stags, so, Frank would continue following him. But, as he watched the little sprite feed her babies, Frank realized that he hoped the Raven Queen had not used Silverling after all. Silverling did not deserve it. Chapter 38: Lord Dryden’s Manor Marie Month 12, Day 19, 8:00AM ¡°He¡¯s back in the city.¡± Poe said. Marie figured that, after Frank had returned with his initial success, Frank liked to check his tracking spell several times a day. For several days, Sebastien had not appeared. ¡°Do you want me to stay here?¡± ¡°Not this time. As a student, he doesn¡¯t have any obligations on a Saturday. If I follow him closely all day long, he may notice, and he¡¯s clever enough that he might notice something wrong. If we swap off, I hope we are less likely to be noticed.¡± Marie was dressed in her less formal black dress, but she wore The Boots all the time. The Boots never scuffed, hardly made a sound, protected her legs from all sorts of weather, and generally made Marie interested in enchantment. She¡¯d read the chapter on enchantment in the primer three times, even though Poe hadn¡¯t covered it yet. ¡°I¡¯m ready to go.¡± Marie got up from her desk and slipped a her notebook into pocket. She stopped carrying a knife, but she did not feel like she could fight any better with a stick. Poe had barely shown her anything. ¡°Do you think this will be ¡­ dangerous?¡± ¡°No. It¡¯s more likely to be boring.¡± Poe looked at her for a moment. ¡°Bring your cloak.¡± ¡°What are we going to do about the spies?¡± ¡°How do you feel about escape via windows?¡± Twenty minutes later, after crawling out the back windows into an unguarded alley, Frank led Marie out to a street where they hailed a cab for the upper part of the city. Poe had kept a slate to run his divination and locate Silverling. When they finally left the cab, they found themselves in a neighborhood filled with large manor homes. Poe spotted Silverling first; the young man rounded a corner and strode toward one of the larger homes. With little formality, opened the gate and headed inside. He didn¡¯t even wait for a servant to greet him at the door. Across the street, Marie and Poe had followed him behind and watched him enter the solid stone manor house. ¡°Do you think that¡¯s Silverling¡¯s manor?¡± Marie asked. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t recognize it. It looks like ¡­¡± Poe muttered to himself. ¡°Keep an eye out. I¡¯m going to find out.¡± Poe strode toward the house, leaving Marie behind. When he reached the door, he rapped sharply using the knocker. A well-dressed footman opened the door immediately. Poe said something, and the footman shook his head. Frank took a step back, and looked at the house as if he¡¯d never seen a manor before. He shrugged, and left. When he returned to Marie, he had a chipper expression. ¡°It appears that this is the home of Lord Dryden.¡± ¡°What did you ask them?¡± ¡°I asked if my old friend from University was in. Of course, I had to apologize for disturbing the house. Very sorry of course, I had the house number flipped.¡± Poe smiled. ¡°¡®Of course, silly me. Whose house was this?¡¯¡± Poe imitated a noble foppish accent. ¡°And, they told me right away.¡± ¡°That worked?¡± ¡°Provided there¡¯s a house at the other address, which I am sure there is, there is no reason for his servants to be suspicious. Unless we keep standing here. Let¡¯s go for a little walk.¡± And they did. They strolled around the manor, and took in the tall privacy fencing, the well appointed stables in the back, and the sound of horses being well cared for. ¡°Do you know Lord Dryden?¡± ¡°Not well. He runs in ¡­ let¡¯s call it different social circles than I once did. He¡¯s been the sort that likes to run charities and lives off what is left of a family legacy from Osham. He¡¯s not entirely idle or anything. I think he breeds some sort of magical horses. Just the sort of person that would sponsor a talented thaumaturge from a less well-off or even distant nobility.¡± ¡°How do you think they met?¡± ¡°That is a good question, and it won¡¯t be easy to find an answer; or rather, it will be easy to find the answer that Lord Dryden might have spread around.¡± ¡°What do we do now? You don¡¯t think ¡­ Lord Dryden has a link to the Raven Queen?¡± Poe didn¡¯t answer right away. ¡°We do not know enough to know.¡± Poe finally replied. ¡°If I recall correctly, Osham¡¯s government wiped out Lord Dryden¡¯s family. If the Raven Queen were an Osham spy, one might suggest that Lord Dryden would be some sort of handler for her, but that does not seem right. Spies work hard not to be noticed. The Raven Queen is no spy, otherwise she would have faded to obscurity and left the city. It doesn¡¯t seem that she has.¡± ¡°So, now what?¡± ¡°Take this token.¡± Poe handed Marie a silvery metal coin. ¡°I can find you with it if need be, but I don¡¯t think this is a particularly dangerous street. Pretend to be waiting for a friend at the corner, watch the house, and I¡¯ll go get a breakfast.¡±This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡®Why pretend?¡¯ Marie thought. ¡®I will be waiting for a friend at the corner.¡¯ So, she waited at the corner until Poe returned with a warm sandwich of some kind, wrapped in a waxed paper and with a sweet peppery flavor. They stood at the corner, and ate. The street wasn¡¯t very busy, but no one walking past seemed to have found their little standing lunch unusual. Poe glanced at Dryden Manor occasionally. ¡°We are being watched from the house.¡± Poe said. ¡°Should we move?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll have to. I could create an unnoticability ward of some kind; it¡¯s a sort of anti-divination technique. But, I¡¯d be noticeable when I set it up. We will have to find a less noticeable spot to set up a divination, to detect comings and goings, and then watch that.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t think the Raven Queen is in there, do you?¡± ¡°I can only guess. This is a nice neighborhood. Lots of people gossiping about the neighbors. Servants. Other people who would be eager to take a man like Dryden down a notch. If the Raven Queen used this place as a base of operations, she¡¯d have been caught already. But ¡­¡± Poe lingered on the thought. ¡®But,¡¯ Marie thought, ¡®we can¡¯t know. The Raven Queen is a ghost, appearing and disappearing without any trace.¡¯ The finished the sandwiches, then they walked to past the manor, and Poe dropped something close to the front gate. Marie thought about picking it up, but then, she didn¡¯t see where it fell. That was odd. It should have been ¡­ ¡°Keep walking. Your attention does you credit, but we need to keep moving.¡± Poe whispered to her. When they turned the corner and were walking away, Poe murmured to her. ¡°I dropped one of my trackers. It has an unnoticability charm on it, which is why you looked right at it, but didn¡¯t see it. I¡¯ll have to refresh the enchantment tomorrow, but today if Silverling leaves with his student token, I¡¯ll know it.¡± They walked to a nearby park where they sat on a bench and Poe set up a small divining array. ¡°What now?¡± ¡°Well, there¡¯s two enchantments on that little tracker that I can monitor. One is Silverling¡¯s token. If his token leaves the house, we can follow it. But, there¡¯s also a charm for anyone that leaves the house. It¡¯s a older spying artifact I created some time ago.¡± Poe grinned conspiratorially. ¡°What¡¯s the point of being a sorcerous investigator if you don¡¯t cheat a little?¡± They spent the rest of the day in the park, but as evening approached, Poe wanted Marie to return to the agency. At first he intended to walk with her, but she insisted that she was not a child and she was perfectly capable of sneaking back into the Agency on her own. As the sky turned orange she was a few blocks away, when Jemnie walked out of an alley as she passed by, and matched her quick steps. ¡°So, you were out?¡± Marie kept herself from muttering a curse. Jemnie had apparently become too clever. But, how had he decided to watch this side of office? ¡°Does that even require an answer?¡± ¡°You¡¯re start¡¯n to talk like him now.¡± ¡°Apprentice.¡± Marie pointed to herself. ¡°So, where¡¯d you go?¡± ¡°That¡¯s confidential. So, did you get sick of watching the office?¡± ¡°No.¡± Marie heard from behind her. Marie reversed and put her back to the wall, to see who had spoken. Cory had been strolling along behind. Marie found herself stopped and confronting the pair. Annoyed pedestrians¡ªwalking home from work¡ªstepped around them on the pavement. ¡°Surprised to see me?¡± Cory said. ¡°Great. Now there are two of you.¡± ¡°Technically, your boy was follow¡¯n me.¡± Cory replied. ¡°I was the one that found out you weren¡¯t in the office.¡± ¡°Not my boy.¡± Marie muttered. ¡°How did you figure it out?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been taking notes!¡± Cory said proudly. ¡°You and your fella go out for lunch or breakfast near everyday. Except today, you didn¡¯t go out at all.¡± ¡°He¡¯s not my fella. He¡¯s my ¡­ he¡¯s a detective ok? I work for him.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± Jemnie said. ¡°You got a new pair of boots somewhere.¡± ¡°He was apologizing for ¡­¡± Marie realized she¡¯d have to explain the aberrant, and didn¡¯t want to. ¡°Things.¡± She finally said. ¡°Sure.¡± Cory replied skeptically. Jemnie nodded. Marie huffed and started briskly walking toward the office. There wasn¡¯t any reason to sneak in the back now. The two spies just followed along like puppies. ¡®When did those two become friends anyway?¡¯ Marie thought. Just as the sky faded to the purplish of evening, and the lamps were lit, Marie entered the front of the August Agency. At least the two spies separated and took up opposite positions down the street. Despite working together, they weren¡¯t really working together. ¡®This is a mess.¡¯ Marie thought. Marie went into the office, bringing the primer with her to Poe¡¯s desk, where she turned on the reading light and started reading the chapter on the third empire. She was still reading late into the night¡ªalthough she could barely keep her attention on the history of a bunch of dead people¡ªand she felt worried that Poe had stayed out very late, when Poe finally returned. He came in through the front door as well. ¡°Why are you doing up at this hour?¡± Poe asked. ¡°Waiting for me?¡± ¡°Yes. Also, reading.¡± Marie replied. She felt so tired. How did he keep awake for so long? ¡°I wanted to tell you something, but I¡¯m too tired to remember.¡± ¡°Spies out back?¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s it. The spies knew we snuck out the back.¡± ¡°I saw one on the way in, so I just came around the front. It¡¯s that girl with the notebook, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Cory. Yes. But, Jemnie was smart enough to follow her while she looked for us. Morrows and the Stags know because we didn¡¯t go out to eat.¡± Marie yawned. Her nervousness about Poe had worn off, and now her eyes felt heavy. ¡°It¡¯s nice to see you making friends your own age.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t call them friends.¡± Marie giggled. ¡°And Jemnie is younger than me.¡± ¡°Come on.¡± Poe replied. ¡°Let¡¯s get you to bed. I am going to nap and then monitor Silverling from here. Also, I have something for you. I¡¯ll give it to you in the morning.¡± As Marie sleepily headed to her rooms, she wondered what Poe¡¯s gift would be. Chapter 39: Doesn’t Seem the Type Marie Month 12, Day 20, 10:00AM Marie never slept in. For one thing, to visit her Mama, she needed to be awake early. Even if the visits were temporarily stopped, the habit of waling early stuck with her. Waking up well into the morning felt disturbingly unnatural to her. On the other hand, Marie did not sleep well, and she¡¯d gone to bed late after an already tiring day. Nor did Poe wake her. By the time she got down to the office, Poe had already left. On her table was a silk bound journal in a soft pink cover, and a note. The note read: This is an enchanted journal that will let us communicate at a distance. I have the other one in the pair. The range is limited to the city, but it was still quite expensive, so take good care of it. To communicate with me, the maker includes a special pen. Write, and when I check the journal, I¡¯ll see what you wrote. If a prospective client stops by, write to me. Keep the the journal handy, in case I need you to join me for our observation of Silverling. He did not move last night, although the master of the house is coming and going late into the night. I have gotten a story from a neighbor that he is quite a the social butterfly, attending crown family parties but also ¡°slumming¡± in bars and investing in businesses. For lessons today, I would like you to review the primer¡¯s chapters on the construction of buildings, and the practice the exercises for good penmanship focusing on loops. Marie frowned at the pink cover. It had flowers on it. ¡®Would it have been too much to ask that Master Poe find a magical journal in black?¡¯ She thought. Then she felt a little guilty, because Poe allowed her a great deal of trust to give her an enchantment of this quality, then she worried about his expenditure. Unless they found the Raven Queen, how much had this surveillance cost? The August Agency needed real work. Marie wondered who this Mariner was, and how much the Mariner would pay the Agency. Dinky and Mama didn¡¯t visit either. And Marie began to worry about them as well. Poe kept sneaking out and thwarting the Morrow spies. Eventually, that might not go well. At least the Stags didn¡¯t appear to have spent the resources to watch the back and the front at the same time. Marie couldn¡¯t see the street from the office, because Poe had put bookshelves on every wall covering even the windows. But, Marie could see the street from her third floor room, and yet again, Jemnie stood on one corner and Cory on the other. They looked cold. Marie thought about inviting Jemnie in, but then that wouldn¡¯t appear neutral, so, she¡¯d have to invite Cory in too. If she was honest, she didn¡¯t want both of them underfoot while she worked on her studies. The feud between the two gangs made her life troublesome. Marie settled for reading and Poe¡¯s assigned writing practice. She even voluntarily spent an hour exercising. In the afternoon, Poe finally wrote her a message: Come to the park; tonight would be an ideal time for Silverling to contact the Raven Queen. I need an extra set of eyes. Lose the spies however you think is best. Use a cab, as necessary, if you can¡¯t just sneak out the back window. A Lonsdale cab is usually stationed at the corner of Stage St., which is a blind, so if you can get a block ahead of them, you will be able to grab that and meet me at the little park we¡¯ve been using. If you can¡¯t, write to me when you are close and I¡¯ll give you instruction. Marie felt a trill of excitement. She would finally help Poe with Silverling. She changed into her nicest dress, and checked the window. The two spies still watched the front door. She thought about it for a moment, and concluded they needed to see her and think she wasn¡¯t avoiding them first. A few minutes later, she walked out the front of the August Agency, right past the two spies to see if they would follow. Jemnie did, but Cory did not. Marie wasn¡¯t sure what was going on there, but she stopped at a street vendor and bought two boxes of a fried rice with bits of vegetable, a mysterious brown sauce, and a single shrimp per serving. She wrapped the boxes in a large cloth, giving all the world the impression she intended to eat a late lunch with Poe. It might not fool Cory, or didn¡¯t fool Cory, but, if she could fool Jemnie, then that would at least be one fewer pair of eyes to lose. She strode confidently into the office, then locking the door quietly. Without pause she moved to the back, and snuck out the window. The alley appeared clear, but even though Marie smiled at her luck, she cautiously headed to Stage Street. Poe mentioned a new alternative he was going to develop, but whatever he had planned, it wasn¡¯t likely that he would have it place so long as he followed Silverling. Marie knew well enough how to watch for someone following her, and she didn¡¯t see anyone. Even so, when she made it to a can green and black livery, she hopped into the open seat. ¡°Where to, young miss?¡± Marie frowned at the slightly patronizing tone. Annoyed, Marie snapped the address a bit more rudely than she would have preferred. She opened the journal and wrote a note to Poe: ¡®On my way. No obvious followers.¡¯ She arrived at the park after quick chilly ride through the busy streets. When she hopped out, Poe strode out of the park and greeted her, and help her get out of the cab. He paid the cab driver Marie even had a chance to reach for the money in a pocket, ¡°You brought food? How thoughtful.¡± Poe told her. ¡°It might keep them confused.¡± Marie replied. ¡°I bought it in front of the spies, so the wouldn¡¯t check the office.¡± The cab pulled away and back into the street and headed back toward the Mires. ¡°That was good thinking. Too bad it didn¡¯t work on the Stags. Did you notice?¡± ¡°Notice what?¡± ¡°The Green Antlers on the cab.¡± Marie suddenly felt cold. She¡¯d lead the Stags right to him. ¡°Oh no, I forgot to check the cab company!¡± Marie said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± Poe gave her a small smile. ¡°This is a public place, and while it is close to our surveillance target, it will take the cabbie a while to get to back to Stag territory and tell them where we are. We¡¯ll just relocate.¡± Poe moved them up the street to a bigger park farther away. They sat and ate on a slightly cold bench, but Poe warmed the food with a quick spell. Marie found it warming and filling. They discussed the progress on watching Silverling. Poe noted that Silverling did not seem to be moving. Poe told Marie that the household had been busy late into the night, and Lord Dryden in particular appeared to be quite busy - leaving late and returning even later. Poe was not following him, but he told Marie he expected to consult Frig about him. By dusk, even with the cold, idle young people walked by the bench gossiping. Marie mostly ignored them, until a pair of men in pressed gold and blue uniforms slowed in their stroll. One was slightly thicker one with a jaded look, and the other one was younger and athletic. The young one said to the other. ¡°Wait, is that her?¡± Marie stiffened. Had the Stags already found them? ¡°No. You keep jumping at shadows like this, and the captain will discipline you. Again.¡± ¡°But, she¡¯s got long black hair, and she looks a little Raven-like, right?¡± Marie heard the jaded one huff. She shrunk down on the bench a little. Up close, she recognized the insignia and uniform. They never ventured to the Mires, but everyone knew the High Crown¡¯s insignia; it was on every coin in Gilbratha. Poe stood up and confronted them. ¡°And, she can hear you just fine. If you think the Raven Queen is just sitting on a park bench, in the middle of the day, then you are quite mistaken.¡± Poe said rather loudly.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Excuse us sir, but we must follow up on all leads.¡± The younger man said. ¡°Move along sir. This young girl is not the Raven queen. She is too pale, too short, and too young.¡± Poe replied cooly. ¡°Your captain would not take kindly to the complaint I will file if you continue down this line of incompetence.¡± Poe¡¯s posture reminded her of a certain sort of man, and remembering gave her a pit in her stomach. The clientele of the Hands, Hearts and Palms occasionally included men who had crown blood. Once, one demanded that he have private use of a masseuse into the evening, privately, at his manse. He brought the masseuse ¡ª a girl named Shirelie ¡ª before Madame. Marie happened to be doing a tally for Madame, so she ended up watching the entire thing out of the corner of her eye. Even in the face of the lord¡¯s commanding posture and arrogant attitude, Madam politely declined. In blatant violation of Crown law, he practically tried to buy the girl. Madame eventually convinced him that he could better spend his coin elsewhere. Even knowing what they did at the parlor, Marie saw the terrified look in the Shirelie¡¯s eyes. Marie later found out the girl was convinced that if she left with him, she might not come back. Even Mama agreed. It had happened before, when they first opened. Nothing seemed to restrain a Crown scion. Marie hated those corrupt aristocrats. The world revolved around them, and if they had the money to buy, they expected you to sell. In that moment, Marie realized Poe was one of them, or so close the difference did not matter. His firm tone, posture, and unblinking stare intimidated even Crown guard. Ambivalent feelings warred in her chest; he was protecting her, but he also sounded possessive and controlling. ¡®How well do I know Poe?¡¯ Marie thought. ¡®He is ¡­ a little dangerous, isn¡¯t he?¡¯ Marie began thinking about her Mama¡¯s warnings. ¡®Is this who he really is?¡¯ The two men looked between themselves. The older shrugged. ¡°I can see we are mistaken. This girl is too young, too small, and not dark enough to be the Raven Queen.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± Poe said. He sat back down, pointedly ignoring the pair. They continued on down the street. Marie and Poe sat in silence for a moment. ¡°I could have handled that.¡± Marie eventually said. ¡°Maybe you could.¡± Poe conceded. ¡°I ¡­ am sorry. Those men are dangerous for you. They could take you away and ¡­ I don¡¯t want you to be hurt. If I have to act entitled to keep you safe, then I will.¡± He sighed. ¡°Was it acting?¡± Poe seemed to think about that, and eventually he said, ¡°I¡¯m not that person anymore.¡± Marie wasn¡¯t so sure. Regardless, they stayed on the bench, with Poe scrying occasionally. Several times, they strolled over to the Lord Dryden¡¯s home and watched the comings and goings as the little scrying coin sensed movement. Poe was using some sort black powder to see watch for movement on a map; it vibrated and distorted and would radiate in spiral waves. Marie couldn¡¯t understand quite what Poe was looking for. On one of their periodic walks to watch the front door of the manor, Marie asked if Silverling had moved. ¡°His token has not.¡± Frank touched his glasses, watching the gate for a moment. ¡°Are your glasses ¡­ magic?¡± Marie whispered to him. ¡°They have spell arrays in them, yes.¡± Poe replied. ¡°I am just checking their wards. Plenty of of antiscrying wards keep me from checking the contents of the manor, and I don¡¯t think I could sneak anything in either. It seems Lord Dryden is more paranoid than I thought. There has been a lot of movement.¡± ¡°What now?¡± ¡°I think Silvering will be moving tonight, if nothing else, he may return to the University or try to meet with a contact or the Raven Queen.¡± Poe explained to Marie what he had in mind. After nightfall, they would set up on either end of the street, waiting for Silverling to move. In the dark, they would harder to spot, but Silverling should be visible in the light of the house. Marie stood on her end of the street long after the lamps were lit, trying to keep to the shadows. Marie tried hard to keep off boredom, recalling the various glyphs Poe had been teaching her and checking her grimoire to see if she had memorized them correctly. A carriage came up to the manor, and she thought she saw Silverling open the front door and stride toward it. Just as she opened the enchanted journal, she read Poe¡¯s hasty scrawl. Silverling doesn¡¯t have his token. Run over a block, we¡¯ll follow in a cab. Marie headed straight for the cab, and Poe arrived just a few moments later. He had a hushed and quick conversation with the driver, and they hopped in. They took off, with the horse setting up at a brisk trot. Turning two corners, they arrived just quickly enough for them to see the expensive black carriage pull away from the manor. Following behind, they moved through the city, downhill somewhat, but still in a part of town nice enough to business¡¯ signs with writing on them. and finally arrived at a cream-colored building that Marie knew well enough she didn¡¯t need to read the sign. As Silverling left the carriage, Marie was close enough to hear the carriage driver comment, ¡°have fun milord.¡± Silverling stepped out of the carriage without a backward glance, and walked straight to the building. ¡°It¡¯s the Silk Door.¡± Marie whisper to Poe as they hopped from the cab and Poe paid the cabbie. ¡°He¡¯s going in there?¡± Poe nodded. They stood across the street and watched Silverling enter. Poe had Marie wait before they moved toward the door. He seemed reluctant to go into the elegant creamy brick building, and they stood at the corner watching. ¡°He doesn¡¯t seem like the type.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Marie was genuinely baffled. She¡¯d seen all sorts of men at the massage parlor. The men she¡¯d met always seemed to crave sex, except Poe, maybe. She reserved judgement; he at least wasn¡¯t open about it. In her experience, men might be kind or cruel, but they all wanted sex. ¡°He¡¯s attractive, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡± ¡°I suppose.¡± Marie didn¡¯t know what would make a man attractive, but Silverling did dress well, and his hair did make him striking. ¡°I met some girls who definitely thought so. They looked at him like a fisherman eyeing a big catch. On the other hand, he behaves as if money is important to him. He sold Ennis¡¯ clothes to a fence, and I saw him try to sell a chunk of cerelium, and he was indignant when he didn¡¯t get a good price.¡± ¡°But, the Silk Door is high class, and expensive.¡± Marie replied. Of course, maybe quality mattered to him? ¡°An attractive boy like that can get a girl to bed if he wanted. Now, maybe he has esoteric taste, but Silverling does not seem like the type to visit a brothel.¡± ¡°He could have a friend there.¡± Marie replied. Marie knew the Silk Door was more than a workplace. Like the Hands, Hearts, and Palms, the workers treated the place as a home. In many ways, sex workers only felt safe among each other. No one cared about them, so they had to care about each other. Poe nodded. ¡°I had not thought of that, but that would explain it.¡± ¡°It¡¯s run by the Stags. Not openly, but the Hands, Hearts, and Palms knows about it. We had some defectors.¡± Marie observed. ¡°Stags is it?¡± Poe raised an eyebrow. ¡°Another connection. Do you think the Raven Queen might hide there ¡­ No, I¡¯m sure the Coppers swept places like this.¡± Marie nodded. ¡°Coppers came through the Hands, Hearts, and Palms, searched all the rooms, and questioned everyone. Several times. All the sex-work places got swept. Coppers must figure that the Raven Queen could hide among women who work in the business. Or, maybe it has to do with where her father was found. Anyway, she wouldn¡¯t be able to hide long at the Silk Door.¡± ¡°But, exotic women come and go from that place. She might just sneak in and out. Go watch the back door; you¡¯ll draw less attention than me. I¡¯ll stay out here and watch for Silverling.¡± ¡°You think I might see the Raven Queen?¡± ¡°It¡¯s possible; keep a careful watch for either Silverling or Naught.¡± Marie walked around the building till she could get a view of the back doors. She noticed women, and some men, did come and go, but none of them looked like Silverling or the Raven Queen. She found herself looking at her journal at one point, as her attention had wandered. When she looked up, she didn¡¯t see anyone. At least, she didn¡¯t notice the Raven Queen walk past her into the night. Later, a pair of women took a break and came outside to chat and cool off, and Marie walked a little closer to hear what they might be saying. ¡°I had another customer want me to dress up in black and them dress in a copper uniform,¡± the taller black-haired woman giggled, ¡°and have them pretend to catch me as the Raven Queen.¡± ¡°Shh. Don¡¯t use her name; she might hear you.¡± The blonde replied. The other woman scoffed. ¡°That¡¯s just superstition.¡± ¡°Yeah, but what if she could hear? I heard from a customer that she was behind the alarms the other day. She seduced two coppers and used them to loose an invisible abberant.¡± ¡°That was false alarm. A prank. The coppers just got drunk on duty.¡± ¡°That¡¯s just what the papers want us to believe! Even if it not true, can you be sure? You tempt fate calling her name. What will you do if the Raven Queen hears?¡± ¡°They tipped well. A little danger makes it exciting for them, I guess.¡± The dark haired woman shrugged. ¡°Playing dress up has been in demand lately.¡± The other sighed. ¡°This is true. I¡¯ve even had some that don¡¯t want any of the usual stuff at all; just lounging around in something more comfortable and chatting about ¡®girl¡¯ things. I charge ¡®em all the same. Still, I¡¯d not want to piss off the dark lady. I heard she travels the shadows and visits the nightmares of her enemies.¡± If calling the Raven Queen¡¯s name brought her, Marie figured she and Poe would have met her by now. They¡¯d said her name dozens of times today alone, and Marie hadn¡¯t seen anything. Hours passed, and eventually, Marie felt her attention waiver, and just fail. Had someone come in? Marie felt too muddled to say. Marie had to signal Poe that she was too tired to continue. A few minutes later, Poe signaled that Silverling had left via the front. They managed to trail him back to Lord Dryden¡¯s Manor, and then gave up for the night. If he¡¯d met the Raven Queen at the brothel, neither the girls nor their surveillance had turned up anything. Chapter 40: A Token Frank Poe Month 12, Day 25, 8:00AM Frank and Marie bundled themselves up to sit on the roof while big snowflakes fell all around them. A finger¡¯s depth of snow had already fallen in the night. As the sun rose, the snow covered the city and roofs in white. Grey-White clouds drifted overhead, continuing to drop the snow, making the city feel dreamlike, with the buildings fading to the shapes of memory. People shut themselves indoors and quiet descended with the snow. They had come up in the grey dawn light to settle something that Frank put off for a few days: Should he try to contact Lord Dryden? Frank dug the iron bowl out of the snow, and set it up on a crate that they¡¯d pulled from the attics. Poe had them sit on a couple of rough wooden stools. Well, he sat. Marie had chosen to kneel on her stool, covering her legs completely with her skirts and the cloak she wore. Snow lightly fell on her shoulders and hair. If it hadn¡¯t been for her pale face watching the sky, she would have looked like a miniature snowcapped mountain made out of black granite. Frank smiled inwardly a bit at his thought; she certainly had granite¡¯s toughness. Frigg took longer to appear than usual, and they¡¯d already waited nearly an hour in the cold but he didn¡¯t want to rush her, even though the agency should have opened its doors. Frank spread his will out into the world around him. He hoped to feel Frigg approaching, but, for now, he could only sense some crows gathering on a nearby rooftop. The local owl seemed to have snuck away; Frank observed that crows and owls never got along. The small rodents he could feel had tucked themselves into their dens. He felt he¡¯d had a bargain with the mice. So long as they stayed away from his books, he left them alone. They seemed to agree. ¡°Master Poe,¡± Marie began at a whisper.¡°Who is the Mariner?¡± Frank had learned that Marie started all the least enjoyable questions with ¡®Master Poe,¡¯ so the tenor of her question didn¡¯t surprise him. Frank sighed. ¡°Me. I¡¯m the Mariner. It¡¯s a name I use to protect my identity from being leaked at the masked meetings. Please keep it secret.¡± ¡°You said that the Mariner agreed to help the Morrows with glamours; why didn¡¯t you just say that you would?¡± ¡°The August Agency should be open to anyone who wants a fair deal. We are seekers of truth, not favor. Admittedly, I prefer our customers rich enough for them to pay well too.¡± Frank smirked. ¡°But, if it gets out that Frank Poe has been bought by the Morrows, then the already shallow puddle of customers might dry up entirely.¡± ¡°How are you going to teach someone, if no one can remember anything you tell them?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll swim that canal when the Morrows identify a candidate to train. But, I do have a plan. I¡¯ll consult with Frigg when I have more details, but for now ¡­ let¡¯s consult her about Lord Dryden. She¡¯s coming.¡± Frank saw a black speck flying through the lazy snowfall. The raven queen had arrived. She flew down and landed on the crate next to the iron bowl. Frank drew a loop of horsehair from his pocket, and dropped it in the bowl. It seemed to suit Lord Dryden¡¯s obsession with horses, and fit with his family. ¡°Frigg, mistress of Fate, should I confront Lord Dryden about the Siobhan Naught?¡± Poe had the sense the Frigg eyed his gift carefully. She did not, as usually the case, play with object. She carefully moved her beak under the bowl and levered it off the crate and into the snow. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°So, no then.¡± Frank bowed his head. ¡°Thank you for your consideration.¡± Frigg did not leave immediately, like Frank had come to expect. Instead, the raven sat and fixed her stare on Marie. Frank inhaled lightly. The cold tickled his throat. ¡°Do you have a question for Frigg?¡± Frank asked Marie. Marie looked back at Frank blankly at first, then she smiled. ¡°I do.¡± She seemed surprised by this. Marie reached in a pocket, and drew out a green glass marble. ¡°Remember to ask a yes or no question. Frigg can¡¯t explain herself, and I only get impressions.¡± Poe said. Marie acknowledged Frank¡¯s words, then turned back to the bird. Marie picked up the icy cold iron bowl and placed it on the crate. Marie soundlessly placed a green glass marble in the bowl. ¡°Will Cory be a friend?¡± Frigg picked up the marble in her beak, shuffled closer to Marie, and put it down on the crate. Then, the raven picked up the marble and shuffled backward, and put it down again. She did this twice; too many times to be coincidence. Frank got the sense the answer was conditional. ¡°Whether she becomes a friend depends on you.¡± Frank explained. Frigg nodded in an almost human-like gesture, then picked up the marble and flew away. Poe began to pack up the crates and the stools, and dropping them through the roof hatch, but Marie watched Frigg grow farther and farther away, until she was just a speck in the white clouds over the Mires. Then they climbed down into the offices. ¡°Tea?¡± Frank asked. Marie nodded, and they returned to his couch filled room, where she made a hot spiced tea mixed with a milk. They lounged on the couches, relaxing. Frank had some warming runes the kept his rooms at a comfortable temperature, even with the snowfall. The silence felt restful, rather than ominous. It was past time to open, so a pounding on the front door drew them both down the stairs to see who had ventured into the snow to meet them. Waiting in the snow was a woman that Frank invited into the office. She brushed off the snow in the foyer, and they all gathered at his desk. ¡°Mr. Poe, I¡¯ve message for you from the Pack.¡± Frank raised his eyebrows. He liked the Pack, and its leaders. They¡¯d done him a good turn when he¡¯d first started the Agency, and Gera in particular. ¡®I wonder if they managed to meet the Raven Queen.¡¯ The Pack had resources he did not, and it would be able to command the favor of her presence much more easily than he could. ¡°A good message?¡± ¡°Yes, the Raven Queen has granted us a boon for Miles. We appreciate your help and foresight in this matter.¡± Frank relaxed in relief. He felt an overwhelming curiosity to ask what happened, but considering how he might use that information ¡­ he did not want the cross the Pack. ¡°Good. How is Miles?¡± ¡°He is improving already. He sleeps now without dreams.¡± Frank leaned back in his desk chair. That would be an amazing feat of magic. He was right then; the Raven Queen did have some domain over the dreams. Or, perhaps, in Miles¡¯ case, over nightmares. ¡°Good.¡± The woman reached in a cloak pocket and withdrew a small box. ¡°A gift for your help.¡± She said. ¡°There is a token inside. You may present it to any member of the Pack, and we will know you are a friend, and will help if its in our power.¡± Frank felt a nervous shock. The Pack tended to be careful in its choice in friends. ¡°Also,¡± she continued, ¡°the Pack has decided that it will more closely align itself with the Verdant Stag. We want to warn you, specifically. Stay away from the Morrows, for your own safety.¡± Frank nodded. ¡°Why?¡± Marie asked. ¡°I am not free to say. I was only told to deliver the warning.¡± ¡°I understand.¡± Frank replied. After the woman left, Frank started work on his enchanting array in anticipation of receiving the pearl. Marie, hung around his desk for a few moments, but Frank did not mind her attention. ¡°Marie, do you have a question?¡± ¡°Master, are you going to remain neural between the Pack and the Morrows?¡± She gestured at the box. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be much of a commitment to neutrality if I didn¡¯t.¡± Frank replied. ¡°The Pack didn¡¯t ask for my help, and I think it best if we stayed out of any conflict that might be coming.¡± Marie frowned slightly, but she went back to her table and returned to studying. Chapter 41: The Raven Queen’s Servant Frank Poe Month 12, Day 26, 11:00AM Frank found himself looking at the token from the Pack for a second time that morning. Inside the little box, the pack had given Poe a jade wolf figurine. The figurine was barely taller than his thumb, and it had a level of detail that made it appear almost alive. The wolf now sat with a serene but alert expression on Poe¡¯s desk. It certainly felt magical. But, there was no detectable thaumaturgy; for all that Poe could detect, even with his modified spell arrays in his glasses, the figure had no magical properties at all. Frank sighed, then returned the little wolf to its box, and returned it to his drawer. A favor from the Pack. He could use it for anything. The Pack did not have access to any magic that Poe might need, but they could bring resources to bear that would allow him complete his memory enchantment. Frank¡¯s week had been busy. In his spare time between tutoring Marie, calisthenics, introducing her to the correct way to use a fighting stick, visiting an apocathary, and scrying for Silvering¡¯s movements, Poe designed his memory array. The references he had on hand lacked the detail of books at the University, but the generalities sufficed. That was his current project. He had all his books spread over his desk, referring to them, and scribbling notes into his own grimoire. It was a fresh book, and one that he¡¯d purchased at the same time as the little communication journals he used with Marie. Frank had his grimoires hidden among the books on his shelves; since no spines showed, none of the books could be easily identified. His last grimoire before he¡¯d left the University was the one Frank dreaded to open. It had plenty of space left among its blank pages, but Frank could not bear to open it an reread what he had written there. This fresh grimoire included his scrying spell for Silverling, and all the details necessary to begin his work on a spell to hold off the curse, and the rudimentary design for the enchantment. That way he¡¯d design a spell first, then adapt it. The whole plan might not work, but he had to try. New magic was dangerous; it would be best if he used the most well established ideas and had the clearest intent. Especially since he would be testing it on himself. So he researched the oldest glyphs he could find. Frank didn¡¯t know when he realized everyone would eventually forget him, even for the small contribution to magic he had made. At Haven it nearly broke him, especially after the first visit with his family. His family ¡®s reaction had been like lead in his heart, and, in particular, his Aunt was unable to bear his presence because her sudden lapses in memory disturbed her too much. Even after he left he found it too painful to try to contact his old friends and acquaintances. The curse targeted memory, of that Frank was certain, but it also had an element of fate magic, which Frank had less certain ideas. The Pearl should work. Pearls were the memory of spite, layers and layers of it, built over the lifetime of the mollusk. Pearls show the past but also an expectation of growth; a fate to grow into something bigger with each layer. Frank knew the Pearl should overcome both the twisting fate and memory; dragging along both memory and anchoring Frank in reality. People would recall Frank Poe, so then he could be of consequence to the world. He worked for several hours on his spell array, considering all the glyphs that would match his intent perfectly, then he took Marie out for a lunch. The cart vendor had sandwiches made of a thick dark bread, breaded and fried fish and a whipped egg and fish sauce topping, wrapped in a thick brown paper. They carried the food back to the office and sat at Frank¡¯s small luncheon table in his rooms. ¡°What was the token from the Stags?¡± Marie asked Poe. He hadn¡¯t shown it to her. ¡°A jade figurine.¡± ¡°Is it valuable?¡± ¡°It is a refined piece of miniature, but that isn¡¯t what makes it valuable. The Pack owes me an open-ended favor. There are some things no amount of money will buy, and that is one of them.¡± Marie nodded. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°So,¡± Frank continued, ¡°this evening I am going out, please watch the office. I¡¯ll need to take the fighting cane, so stay inside the office.¡± ¡°Where are you going?¡± ¡°I have a meeting.¡± Frank been paying careful attention to the next meeting time. With the secret meeting planned for tonight, it was sooner than he expected, and he did not have to attend, because the transfer was scheduled for the meeting after. Still, he wanted to be sure to watch out for that woman who might attempt to steal the prize from out of his grasp, and he should keep an eye on Canelo. He was still her sponsor, and her behavior would reflect on him, at least tangentially. ¡°When did you work that out? Is it with Lord Stag or something to do with Silverling? I keep you calendar, and we don¡¯t have any clients.¡± ¡°It was arranged ahead of time, and its nothing to do with the Stags. It¡¯s perfectly safe.¡± ¡°And, you are taking the fighting cane.¡± Marie¡¯s voice remained neutral., but Frank could detect a hint of sarcasm there. ¡°Well, it¡¯s a comfort in uncertain times.¡± ¡°So, it¡¯s not safe.¡± ¡°No more dangerous than usual.¡± ¡°Mm.¡± Marie replied. ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯m going to meet the Raven Queen or anything! It¡¯s just the normal meeting with the ¡­ thaumaturges on the edge of things.¡± Frank felt exasperated, explaining himself to a teenager. He gave a small shake of his head. ¡°So, people who engage in dangerous, illegal magic? Where you have to hide your face and take on a fake name?¡± Marie smirked at Frank. ¡°And, how are you going to leave without Jemnie and Cory following you?¡± ¡°I have my ways.¡± Frank replied. ¡°Let¡¯s just get to you studies.¡± Frank quizzed Marie for an hour, then he returned to his desk and continued to refine his spell array, while Marie returned to reading. They really did need more clients. Frank closed the office, sent Marie to her one room apartment, and returned to his rooms to change, leaving the koi coat behind in his office. Frank scryed Sebastien, and he did seem to be visiting the markets, but Frank decided against following Silvering. Frank needed to attend the meeting, and Silverling was at Dryden Manor most of the day. As it grew dark, Poe changed into dark clothing and his mask, then prepared some tricks for leaving the Agency undetected. Unfortunately, the watchers had taken to checking for Frank leaving by the back windows. There was a third way out of the building, however. After dressing in uncharacteristically dark clothing and coat, and putting on his mask, Frank climbed to the roof and sulked over to the next building on the street. Unmelted snow crunched on the slippery roof. Frank would have to use care to avoid being spotted, and to keep himself from falling off the roof. There was a enough moonlight to see by, so at least he did not have to shine a light of some kind. He drew a ring from his pocket and used it to cast his mother¡¯s esoteric chiming detection spell. It did chime faintly, in part because of his nearness to the magic at the agency, but¡ªmore importantly¡ªthe spell muffled all the sound. The roofs of the neighboring buildings were only a large stride away. So, he silently stepped over to the roof of a second house, and then a third, eventually making his way over the tall narrow buildings till he reached the end of the block. He peered over the edge and looked for the Morrow and Stag spies. The Stags seemed to still only have the one; the Morrow boy was stationed near her, but the other Morrow spy, ironically the rude fellow who tried to accost him in Madame¡¯s office, was watching the back. They all were looking toward the Agency, and away from Frank. Frank drank down a potion of feather fall, then stepped off the roof. His dark coat fluttered. He reckoned he looked a little like a big black bird, gliding down into the dark street. He landed next to a pedestrian, a local resident that Frank overlooked when he¡¯d scanned the street for the gangs¡¯ spies. The man squeaked at Franks sudden appearance. Frank drew himself up, then drew a blank on what to say. He couldn¡¯t think of an excuse for leaping from the top of the building that would keep the started man from calling out and alerting the spies. ¡°Are you ¡­ are you the Raven Queen¡¯s servant?¡± The startled man stuttered. ¡°Quiet.¡± Frank said reflexively¡ªalthough the esoteric spell muffled the sound and made his voice eerie and whisper quiet. Frank realized what he looked like: a creepy mask, black clothing, and black cane. He smiled behind the mask ¡­ if he just roughed up his voice ¡­ and loomed a bit ¡­ ¡°Do you dare impede me while I am on the Queen¡¯s business?¡± Frank rasped. The man stumbled back, pale. ¡°No. No.¡± With a panicked expression, the pedestrian fell onto the training any common man would have to deal with any unexpected nobility: he bowed and tried to look unthreatening. ¡°Beg your pardon lord.¡± Frank made no further comment and strode past, black coat fluttering behind him. Down the street, he began chuckling to himself. ¡®The Raven Queen¡¯s servant. How absurd.¡¯ Frank thought. ¡®Maybe I¡¯ll start hearing rumors of the Raven Queen¡¯s servant flying through the night or appearing from shadows on errands.¡¯ Chapter 42: A New Member Frank Poe Month 12, Day 26, 7:00PM He walked to the Night Market and arrived at the meeting surprisingly early. Cannelo arrived shortly after him, but he didn¡¯t acknowledge her, then the room slowly began to fill. As he observed the room fill, Frank noticed Liza entered with an unmasked prospective member who wore and a deep and concealing hood, but when the prognos and assistants arrived to question the new woman, Frank put the newcomer to the back of his mind. ¡°Mariner.¡± The old cone sat next to him. ¡°What tidings from the sea? Found land yet? The freed Raven bring back a branch?¡± She cackled. ¡®What is she hinting at?¡¯ Frank wondered. ¡°Just watching the sky.¡± Frank replied. ¡°Hoping for some good news.¡± ¡°The sun was a bright orange and crimson this morning, and you know what sailors say about red mornings.¡± She said. ¡°Waiting for a Raven is no good; thou¡¯t be better off with doves if you want good news.¡± ¡°What do doves know? Foolish birds.¡± ¡°Aye. Ravens are cleverer, ¡®cause they know, in the end, its all bad news.¡± Frank just nodded. What could he say to that? He focused on the assemblage of masked individuals, and the meeting began. Items began to be offered for sale. Liza sat, redolent, at her table. The prospective member hadn¡¯t yet returned from her interview; Frank noted she took longer than he seen before. ¡®Who in the world had Liza brought?¡¯ The first offer was a new type of spirit cage spell, which Frank found vaguely uncomfortable. Midway through his spiel, the hooded¡ªand now white-masked¡ªwoman finally made her appearance. The interviewer left her in a chair, hurried over and conferred the arbiter. ¡°A new member. Welcome. Let us continue, then.¡± Now, Frank felt his curiosity bloom. Of course, he couldn¡¯t inquire of this new member or Liza, which would have been a breach of protocol. But he did try to observe what details he could. The woman wore black clothing and a hood, but for this meeting that was nothing unusual. She had a plain white mask, but that just meant ¡­ nothing really. She could have brought it with her, but had she? Frank also wondered why the big production of telling the arbiter and announcing her presence. He barely noticed the next man offering a mind muddling jinx. And then there was an offer to sell an enchanted cold box. Frank was impressed with the price. It might be nice to have some way to preserve food at his room at the Agency. He might be able to buy some fresh fish and keep it for breakfasts, and the additional preservation spell could keep potion ingredients too. After the artifact was appraised, Frank put in his own order. He did not work with many potions, but he did hope to start training Marie. He knew that the workshop had some potion-making equipment. Cannelo and the newcomer didn¡¯t bid, and strangely, Frank felt as if new woman had decided to focus entirely on Cannelo. Did the new woman somehow recognize her? Finally, they turned to offers. Cannelo¡¯s offer was first, and breath taking in its audacity: ¡°I¡¯m offering one hundred gold, as well as three green beast cores with a combined energy value of ten million thaums, for useful information about the Raven Queen. I can split up the reward between multiple people, if more than one person has relevant knowledge.¡± Frank blinked with surprise. Cannelo was better funded than he thought, and she seemed willing to throw aside any subtlety. He, however, had nothing else he cared to share with her. And, while audacious, it was a poor offer. Cannelo had access to the University Library, and all she could think to offer was money, and the equivalent of money? She would do better to offer magical secrets. The room, however, opened up with rumor and speculation. She¡¯d stolen something from the University, no mention of what, although Frank knew it was a book. She was a free caster. This then moved to rampant speculation: a shape changer, able to travel through and command the shadows. Frank had heard all those sorts of rumors already. The coppers had filled their reports with them, but Frank didn¡¯t think it was possible to travel through shadows. Although, ¡°controlling¡± shadows would be trivial with a spell array. It could theoretically be free cast as well; it shouldn¡¯t be much different than Frank¡¯s tricks with pipe smoke. It was so unlikely, however, that she could change her shape, Frank nearly scoffed. ¡®Change her shape into what?¡¯ Frank wondered. ¡®A Raven?¡¯ Someone else said, ¡°I have an investigator-adjutant contact. I can ask them for more information, for the right price. They¡¯re not directly on that case, though, so while I might get more details, they probably won¡¯t have access to any truly classified material.¡± This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Frank smiled to himself. Was that him? Canelo already had nearly everything useful the investigation had. ¡®With all the additional reward, they must be swamped with testimony by now.¡¯ Frank thought. Canelo switch tactics. ¡°Does anyone have information about her connection to the Verdant Stag?¡± ¡°I heard she might come if you make a pleasing enough offering. Maybe Lord knows what she likes, or has some sort of agreement with her.¡± Canelo would also know that much, Frank reckoned. Recalling the Morrows¡¯ heavy-handed tactics, Frank snorted, and said, ¡°or maybe the Morrows just pissed her off somehow.¡± They¡¯d certainly pissed him off. Then, someone offered a fate ritual to connect them. This, Frank knew, could be disastrous, but before he could respond to the suggestion, and warn Cannelo away from it, the old crone shook her head and explained: ¡°I warn against that. Very iffy results. Even if that kind of compulsion would work on her, what kind of meeting? I certainly wouldn¡¯t want to run into the Raven Queen in a dark alley.¡± One of the Pack thaumaturges agreed, and offered a different solution. ¡°I have access to someone with relevant information about how to set up a meeting with her. Lord Lynwood did it. You¡¯ll need to prepare an offering for her in addition to my payment, though. I can give you an answer at our next meeting.¡± Frank felt uneasy at that suggestion. He could use his favor with the Pack to get that information, but he had no desire to waste it on meeting the Raven Queen on her own terms. That wasn¡¯t solving her mysteries, that was just cheating. Cannelo hesitated, but steeled herself and nodded to the horned pack member. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll pay seventy gold and twenty beast cores to anyone who can confirm a meeting with her, along with details about this offering she requires.¡± The horned contact explained the situation and seeming implied that they¡¯d check with the contact, which Poe reckoned was no more than obtaining Lord Lynwood¡¯s permission. Now that the Raven Queen had provided a viable treatment for Miles, Frank expected the Pack would do almost anything for the Raven Queen. If she didn¡¯t want to meet Canelo, it wouldn¡¯t even matter how much money was offered, the Pack would refuse. The meeting moved on to other requests, including a request for dissolving tincture. Strong acids weren¡¯t restricted, so it wasn¡¯t the sort of item that you needed to buy at the meeting, unless the purpose made its purchase risky. Frank reckoned someone was trying to break into a safe or a lock. He hoped it wasn¡¯t anyone he knew. No one seemed willing to take the requester up on it. Then, he finally heard the newcomer¡¯s voice. ¡°I am looking for sempervivum apricus and mandrake root. Both still living.¡± She said. Her accent was not local, and had the round tones of someone educated. She did not sound rural; rather only slightly exotic. She could be the scion of a wealthy country lord, or a trader. Nothing really that Frank could match to anyone. Frank found her choice of ingredients interesting. Plants like sempervivum apricus from the plane of radiance could be used to brew healing and regeneration potions. Mandrake, well, that could be used for all sorts of things. It seemed the newcomer was making illegal healing potions, or planned to do direct healing on her own. Not much of a stretch to make an educated guess regarding who would be interested in those sorts of philitres; either the Stags or the Morrows needed healing soon, given then thpension between them. And, since Cannelo needed Frank¡¯s support to join the meeting, and she had contacts with the Morrows, Frank guessed the Stags sponsored this one. Correlated with this, Liza was easily, if not cheaply, bribed, and a well known independent. Thus, it seemed that the Stags brought in an another healer from outside the city, or at least someone who had some idea about how to go about it, and hired Liza to get the woman into the meeting. The Stags may have even sent this healer here to make sure she did not come into contact with legitimate sources. The girthy alchemical supplier raised his hand. ¡°I have both. I¡¯ll sell them to you for forty-five gold, or an appropriate item in trade.¡± ¡°Do you have any need for regeneration potions?¡± ¡°Not healing?¡± he asked. ¡°Well, I suppose. I¡¯ll want them appraised, of course, but if they serve, I¡¯ll take six in exchange for the plants.¡± Good healers were rare; it took a lot of education and skill. But then, every village had a witch or hedge-wizard willing to brew up something or other. The alchemist was right to require verification. ¡°Agreed.¡± Frank felt his suspicion vindicated; a healer from out of town. She probably didn¡¯t have coin to offer for those expensive ingredients, or a license to buy legitimately. And, regeneration potions might not be quite as useful as the more expensive healing potions, but if they were good quality they would deal well with stable injuries, if not sicknesses. The arbiter noted the usual requests for them: communication or protective artifacts, elemental components, and celerium. A few people offered to sell things to the arbiter, and when their haggling was done, the man spoke again, reciting the usual end of meeting spiel. ¡°This may be a reminder for our old members, but be sure to watch for the signs about our next meeting. You can find the locations on the list pinned to the wall, there.¡± He pointed to a piece of paper. ¡°Memorize it, as well as the translations of meaning. This meeting is adjourned. Those who wish may exchange information freely amongst yourselves. If you have agreed to an exchange, please wait for one of us to mediate it.¡± Frank made a show of looking, but what he really wanted was to see if he could observe any additional information on the new healer. She gave nothing away, which Frank reckoned as disappointingly competent. They were split, as usual, and Frank was in an early group. Frank felt no real need to follow Cannelo back to the University, which was her inevitable destination. On the other hand, Frank suspected the new healer would return to the Verdant Stag. While he couldn¡¯t follow her directly, he could watch for her to verify his supicion. Frank walked to the cross streets leading to the infamous inn. The streets were quiet, and the cold kept any but the most determined away. Some beggars had set up a fire, but while they tried to watch him, without watching him, Frank ignored them and waited for the the familiar shape of the new member. He waited several hours. Either she was used a more complex route avoiding the streets, or she wasn¡¯t staying there, because she never showed up. Perhaps he was mistaken. If she wasn¡¯t with the Stags, who was she? Chapter 43: Celebration Marie Month 12, Day 31, 8:00AM Marie was halfway through one of Poe¡¯s exercises, using the floor in his room for half pushups, when the seal above her heart activated. If she hadn¡¯t already been on the floor, she might have collapsed on it. So far, none of the exercises had triggered it, but she was in the middle of a strenuous section, and when she went down, she didn¡¯t try to go up. Marie could not quite recall the last time that she¡¯d had the array hammer her so hard¡ªthis may have been part of the reason she passed out she¡¯d accidentally stabbed herself¡ªbut now fully awake and aware, the sensation felt just the same as it had her whole life. She could only describe it like wet laundry squeezed in a mangle. Her heart slowed dramatically¡ªintroducing dizziness and nausea¡ªthen her eyes watered with tears from the sudden pain in her chest, she felt hot, and she let out an involuntary groan. Then all of the unpleasant sensation ceased, and her heart steadied to a slow and regular pumping. ¡°Marie! What¡¯s happening?¡± Poe asked in alarm. ¡°Just my heart. Gimme a second.¡± Marie gasped. ¡°It will pass.¡± ¡°The spell array?¡± Poe muttered. Marie could only nod. When this happened, she could lose consciousness, but in this instance, she supposed her brain had sufficient blood to prevent it. When exercise raised her heart rate too much, the spell array would steady her heartbeat and reduce it into a forced calm, then after a few moments, it would return the control of the heart to her body. She felt that sort of detachment as the spell took control not just of her heart muscle, but also her emotions, so that she would not panic. When she was a child this completely prevented her from most children¡¯s games. As a pickpocket this meant she¡¯d have never gotten away if caught. Now, it just meant that she¡¯d have to go more slowly through Poe¡¯s exercises. Marie rolled onto her back and looked up at the ceiling in Poe¡¯s room. She¡¯d never noticed before, but there were spell arrays carved into the rafters, lined with silvered paint and strange glyphs. There was never any dust in Poe¡¯s room, even though the office on the first floor accumulated dust normally. Marie wondered if it was a spell array or enchantment. Her mind meandered for a bit on that topic. ¡°Do you need anything? Water? Should we lift your head?¡± Poe asked. Marie listened in her detached state, but did not respond right away, even as Poe knelt and hovered over her. The spell array kept her from feeling any desire to answer. After a few moments, Marie¡¯s emotions began to gradually come back, and she mustered the energy to reply; like pouring molasses from a tin. ¡°No. It will take a moment for the it to wear off, but I can rest here.¡± Poe grabbed a pillow off the nearest couch, then placed it under her head. Marie felt grateful for that; the room remained warm, but the floor held a chill. Slowly, Marie blinked and felt her heart return to a steady rhythm. She sighed. She¡¯d have to be more steady in her exercise. ¡°We should stop for today.¡± Poe said shakily. ¡°No.¡± Marie replied. ¡°It¡¯s just a heart attack. I¡¯ll just go more slowly.¡± ¡°Go more slowly?¡± Poe said faintly. ¡°Your heart stopped my dear. The spell array, all by itself, pumped the blood in your body and restarted your heart. If I hadn¡¯t known it was there, I¡¯d have assumed you would die in a few moments.¡± ¡°It¡¯s no big deal.¡± Marie tired to brush it off. She¡¯d had lots more of those attacks as a child. Running too fast, trying to work too quickly, even getting a scare could set it off unexpectedly. Well, expectedly, really. She did have a heart condition after all. Poe¡¯s exercises had a gentleness to them that allowed Marie the first real improvements to her strength she¡¯d had in her whole life. If she stopped for a silly thing like almost dying then she¡¯d probably never do them at all. ¡°If you are certain.¡± Poe replied doubtfully. ¡°I¡¯ll just use the less strenuous version we coved last week.¡± Marie rolled over and began a new round of the less difficult pushups. Poe now seemed to be staring at her with a careful eye. ¡°How did you manage the cellar at all with that defect?¡± Poe wondered. ¡°Controlling my heart rate has become part of me.¡± Marie said, between the low impact pushups ¡°If I keep it low enough, nothing usually happens. Sometimes I can even increase my heart rate to the point just below the trigger.¡± ¡°We need a proper fix for your heart.¡± ¡°I¡¯d like that, but I am used to it you know.¡± Poe sat down on a couch. Marie thought he looked a little pale. Marie counted out the last few push ups, and then got up and stretched. When Marie looked toward him, Poe seemed to be blinking a lot. ¡°So. I have an errand to run.¡± He finally said. ¡°But first, I think we¡¯ll close the office today, and go take a bath.¡± Marie grinned. Poe took them to the baths several times a week; a sponge bath in her room never suited quite so well as a proper scrub. A midday morning bath was unusual, but she certainly wouldn¡¯t object. She bounced up and¡ªmindful that she¡¯d overdone her exercises once today already¡ªshe sped off to her room to collect clothes and bathing supplies. Poe had preferences for bath houses, and one preference consistently prevailed since the Verdant Stag: Marie always had a private bath. That morning, soaking in a round wooden tub of magically heated water, Marie really looked at her tattooed spell array carefully. She¡¯d never even drawn it, even though she now knew how. She knew the story of how she¡¯d gotten it, but she had no memory of it. When she was a baby, she¡¯d cried a little, then convulsed and then, died for a short while. The midwife had to use a spell to revive her and they¡¯d called a thaumaturge to see what was the matter. The woman had come and declared that Marie had a heart defect; she shouldn¡¯t even be alive, because the valves of her heart didn¡¯t work properly. As a baby, she was too small for the thaumaturgy to do anything, and besides, healing wouldn¡¯t work: her heart was whole and undamaged, must broken in a way the Marie wouldn¡¯t survive. Marie would die soon. Marie¡¯s Father was called, and his connections made it possible to get a second opinion. Marie never got the description of the person that came and applied the tattoo. The sorcerer put a curse on anyone that was there to see the spell array applied, including Marie. The compulsion had not noticeably faded for her, but there wasn¡¯t much Marie could tell anyway. Mama had always explained that this was the reason they worked for the Morrows; the Morrow sorcerer cost more than they could pay. Marie stared at the tattoo, trying to quash her guilty feelings. She had survived, when she shouldn¡¯t, because of magic. Blood magic. Poe knew, of course, and seemed entirely willing to protect her. She hoped that would last. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. She had to admit that she liked working for Poe, learning from him, and reading his books. He¡¯d started spending much more freely, but he had received the bonus, so that seemed ok. But she was increasingly worried about him too. He¡¯d been secretive recently: hiding his notes from her, and people would forget him even more easily. And, there were also incidents, which Marie didn¡¯t even know if he noticed, where people on the street would do more than ignore him. People, with no obvious consideration, would stride across the middle of the street to avoid him. When he walked the pavement, few people went before or after him. He also wore his koi coat less, even as Marie wasn¡¯t entirely sure what the coat did, but it was more than just protecting others from his strange curse. And, when he did wear the coat, the koi shifted regularly now, as if the water was agitated. Poe was up to something, and the coat didn¡¯t approve. Nor did she know if Frig approved, and with that thought, Marie planned to ask her. When she went to leave and dress, the attendant delivered a new black dress. With it, Frank included a little note. ¡®Your frilly black dress is elegant enough, but you should have something more practical as my apprentice, especially since we will start on alchemy soon. I also worry you are cold. This dress includes a black cloak, like your usual one, but I think you¡¯ll like the lining.¡¯ The new dress fit well, with a sleeved bodice that covered Marie¡¯s arms completely, and the sleeves buttoned so they would fit tightly, as well as high collar, but still had a shorter pleated skirt that she could exercise in and the skirt slightly covered the top of the Boots. This dress had no ribbons or silk, but it was made of almost iridescent black wool, so it was a tough, warm, and practical garment. The new cloak was also black, in the ruana style, but it had a hood. Marie marveled at the lining on the cloak, which had been embroidered with shiny black raven feathers. When she left her private room, she thanked Poe enthusiastically. Later, at the Agency, Poe immediately showed Marie a spark shooting spell. Powered with a few components and a lamp, after several attempts, she could make a few dim sparks. Poe encouraged her to change the colors and make them brighter, but she tired quickly. Poe spent the rest of his day in his room, where is sounded like he was moving couches for hours. That night, after Marie had locked up the main door, visitors arrived. Mama and Dinky knocked on the outer door, and Marie answered it. Each was laden with bags of food. Trailing behind them, Jemnie followed them in carrying more bags. ¡°Mama? What are you doing here?¡± Marie asked. ¡°I got a note that said we should get together for a new years¡¯ eve feast, courtesy of your Poe. So, we picked up the food and came over.¡± Poe came down the stairs and greeted them. ¡°Come up! Come up! I¡¯ve got the table set out, and it¡¯s ready for the food.¡± Poe said. ¡°Good! I¡¯ve been carrying this food for blocks, and it smells wonderful.¡± They began tramping up the stairs. Marie helped with the cloaks and coats they wore, and the managed the door. Before she closed the door, Marie glanced out to the street. Cory stood on the corner in the grey light of the cold evening. Marie wasn¡¯t sure why she did it, but she turned to Poe. ¡°Can Cory come?¡± Poe frowned, but he nodded. ¡°She has to promise to behave herself.¡± Marie strode out into the night to Cory. As Marie suspected, the poor girl looked practically blue with cold. ¡°You can come eat a New Year¡¯s feast with us, if you want.¡± ¡°I¡¯m supposed to watch you.¡± She replied doubtfully. ¡°You can watch us better inside where its warm.¡± Cory¡¯s eyes darted back and forth. ¡°Aren¡¯t you a Morrow? We¡¯re supposed to be enemies.¡± ¡°Well, maybe so, but the August Agency is neutral, Master Poe says, and if that¡¯s so, you can come eat with us. Just don¡¯t be a jerk.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± Marie guided Cory back to the agency, hung her coat on the pegs by the door, and then they climbed the stair to Poe¡¯s room. Entering it better than normal. The couches had been moved around, and some stacked, so that a big table could be set in the middle of the room. Marie thought it was actually some sort of workbench, but with a cloth set over it, you¡¯d hardly notice. They didn¡¯t exactly have proper chairs; instead they had to sit on couches. The food was laid out on platters and Mama passed plates around. The food included a whole fish and rice, green rice cake with some sort of crushed nut filling, deep fried crunchy rolls with a pork and vegetable filling, translucent noodles with crab, slivers of carrot and radish, fresh wraps in edible paper of shrimp and noodles and fresh herbs, sweet candied ginger and lotus. Poe made hot smoky tea and served a cold soft cider. They feasted. Marie and Mama chatted. Cory and Jemnie seemed to get along, chatting about the cold and what sounded to Marie like a commiseration on the trouble of trying to follow Poe anywhere. Dinky watched Poe warily, but Marie thought even Dinky seemed happy, although he did not smile. ¡°Marie,¡± Mama said quietly, ¡°I¡¯m glad you aren¡¯t at the Hands this year. It¡¯s having one of their ¡®celebrations¡¯ and you know how that is.¡± ¡°Lots of drunk people.¡± Marie replied. ¡®And lecherous men,¡¯ she thought to herself, ¡®some of whom would go after cleaning staff ¡­ no matter their age.¡¯ ¡°You might be in Stag territory, but at least this place is far from that lot.¡± Oddly, Marie had a question that she hadn¡¯t asked for a long time pop into her head. Maybe it was just that it was New Years Eve. ¡°Mama, do you know whether I could meet my father this year?¡± Mama looked away from Marie, and did not answer right away. But then, Mama never liked to talk about Marie¡¯s father. ¡°Not this year, especially not now. He¡¯s important in the Morrows, you know, and you¡¯d be ¡­¡± Mama looked over at Cory. ¡°Maybe we can talk about it later.¡± Marie had gotten a similar answer her whole life that was sometimes longer or sometimes shorter, but she hadn¡¯t really expected anything different now. Still while she felt melancholy, that wore off as she dug into the food. It was salty and sweet, herby and rich. Finally, Poe stood and raised his teacup to the group. ¡°Indulge me if you will. Most of you will have almost no memory of this, but Marie will remember. And, as its a new year, a time to celebrate, I reckon we have not celebrated her apprenticeship properly. You, her friends and parents, should know that she shows great promise, and that I will do my best to make sure no harm comes to her. But more importantly, she should know that I believe that she is talented and intelligent. She¡¯s make a fine sorcerer one day, and this celebration is for a new year, a new beginning.¡± Poe raised the cup higher. ¡°So. To new beginnings!¡± Poe toasted. They raised their cups with him. ¡°New beginnings.¡± They said in unison. Marie blushed with embarrassment, and found herself smiling. She wasn¡¯t sure what she should say. Should she say something? ¡°I started the August Agency because I had nothing to do, nothing to be, and nothing to be remembered for.¡± Poe continued. ¡°But, a new year is coming. Once we¡¯re done eating here, I invite you to the roof to bring in the new year. I have prepared some magic I think you all will enjoy.¡± They finished eating and Marie was still chewing a piece of the sweet lotus candy when they climbed up to the roof. Poe had cleared the roof entirely for a huge spell array laid out in glowing paint. Marie recognized some of the glyphs; they were the same ones for the spark shooting array she¡¯d already seen. ¡°Stand there.¡± Poe pointed at a spot just outside the array. In the distance, Marie could hear people singing and laughing, celebrating the coming new year. The parties would last for hours, some going all the way till morning. The night was already lit up with the lights from the city, but Marie could faintly see some of the stars. ¡°Now pay attention Marie; spark shooting arrays can do more than just a few small lights.¡± Poe said, and he smiled in the darkness. ¡°Enjoy the show.¡± He sat down on the other edge of the spell array, drew out a huge beast core and his fist-sized conduit from his koi coat. Soundlessly, there was a flash, and soaring up into the air a streak of white light, and after several heartbeats of traveling overhead into the sky, it bloomed like a flower of fire, then¡ªas it faded¡ª another huge blue spark joined it from Poe¡¯s array and spread a sheet of blue sparks high in the sky. Marie marveled at the display, which Poe continued to produce even more shapes and colors in sparks and light: a green circle of tiny lights, a red rose that twinkled as it faded, a skykraken in purple, and plain bursts of color and light from deep red to violet and every color in between. Higher up in the city, toward the great surrounding wall, other flashes of magic began, seemingly not to be outdone by Poe¡¯s display. Marie squeezed her Mama¡¯s hand. Mama looked at her and smiled. ¡°Maybe magic s¡¯ not so bad.¡± Mama said. Marie grinned at her and nodded under magic sparks. It went on for some time, but not so long that Marie grew at all tired of seeing it. When Poe finished, he laughed. ¡°Happy New Year Marie.¡± ¡°Happy New Year, Master Poe.¡± Chapter 44: Conduits and Useful People Frank Poe Month 1, Day 7, Thursday 3:30 p.m. Frank looked over the past week¡¯s worth of work with pride, aching knees, and cramped fingers. After moving his desk next to Marie¡¯s table in front of the partition and clearing his office floor, Poe had covered the floor of his office with the spell array that he would use to test the Pearl. If it worked, he would build an enchantment, likely an amulet, that would let him trigger a counter to his curse. Instead of the koi coat¡¯s half measures, people would remember conversations with him! No more notes! He could meet with friends for dinner and they¡¯d recall him. His family might take him back, and he could finish his Master¡¯s certificate. The possibilities were endless. Marie seemed happy with the New Year¡¯s day treat, but as he¡¯d worked on the array, she seemed to withdraw bit. Frank guessed it was his request that they skip lessons for the week while he worked on it. He¡±d promised to show her the basics of alchemy, but hadn¡¯t had the opportunity as he worked on the spell array. He closed the office, so he thought she would appreciate the time off. ¡°This is it.¡± Poe waved an arm toward the array. ¡°A reasonable and permanent way to deal with my curse.¡± ¡°Congratulations, Master.¡± Marie sounded unenthused. Frank decided it was just a failure to appreciate the accomplishment. ¡°I wonder if I might ask a question?¡± ¡°Anything you like! Although I can¡¯t promise that you¡¯ll understand my answer.¡± Frank replied. ¡°This is a complex spell array, after all.¡± ¡°Sure. Um. Have you consulted the Oracle? Frigg?¡± ¡°What? No. This will end the curse, don¡¯t you see? I won¡¯t need to worry about interfering with fate, because people will remember me again.¡± Marie didn¡¯t glower, exactly, but her eyes seemed a little darker, and her jaw a little tighter. ¡°I have built this spell on well-recognized principles of memory and divination.¡± Frank said. ¡°My future will have echoes again. You don¡¯t notice, but most people find it unsettling to be around me. This is a fix. Or, at least the beginning of a fix. You¡¯ll see.¡± Frank paid no more attention to his apprentice¡¯s frown. ¡®It will be fine.¡¯ He thought. He¡¯d drawn on all his resources to make the spell array. Thinking of resources, this included the Handbook of Components, Physical Laws, Spell Arrays, and Glyphs of the Modern Sorcerer. The fate portions of the array had come from Frank¡¯s own neglected grimoires left from his time at the University, but the rest had been built upon glyphs and arrays found in the Handbook. Frank carefully packed up the stamped censor¡¯s copy of the Handbook, and put the five volumes in a shoulder spacial bag he¡¯d specifically purchased for the purpose. Frank still had to avoid the prying eyes of the spies outside the Agency. And, sadly, they now knew about the roof hatch. So, while he could try that exit again, he reckoned it would be watched more carefully. He could still creep across the roofs, but he wasn¡¯t sure that was wise. Frank rubbed his hand over his face, feeling a little stubble. He¡¯s skipped shaving for a few days. He¡¯d prioritized the array, but he¡¯d also put off planning how he would lose the spies from the Morrows and the Stags. The fighting stick would be fine for personal protection, but to cast his most portable spells and illusions he would need his pipe, like he¡¯d done on the street some weeks before. Unfortunately, sorcerers and coppers who knew him would recognize it. So. He would have to lose the followers at the Night Market, and that would be easier said than done. He decided to compromise. ¡­. After sunset, as the inky darkness of night descended, the shrouded figure of Frank Poe, wearing a blue coat that a flashed with orange and silver, walked out of the closed door of the August Agency, face buried under a grey scarf and wide brimmed hat. When the ephemeral figure reached the corner, Frank Poe impossibly split in two, each man headed in different directions. This impossibility confused the spies, who also split up to follow him, then two blocks later, they all lost sight of Frank Poe entirely in the mist and gloom. Cory observed that the enforcer from the Morrows, who hadn¡¯t experienced Frank¡¯s tricks, walked on, looking for any sign of the investigator. He surely hadn¡¯t gone far. Jemnie had the night off; if they¡¯d had the clever pickpocket with them, the Morrows might have had a chance to understand what had happened. She wouldn¡¯t find out till later that they received a beating for their failure. Cory, who worked alone, had to pick one of the two false images to shadow, and when that one disappeared, she didn¡¯t bother trying to backtrack to try to find the other phantom. For one thing, she could recall both of them walking, even when the one she¡¯d followed disappeared. Thus, she realized that neither of the smoke shadows were Frank Poe, and he had obviously slipped away. She made a note in her book, then trudged back to the August Agency. On her way back, Cory saw another man, dressed in dark clothing, turn the corner a street ahead of her, and he walked deeper into the Mires. He had a satchel over one shoulder, and walked briskly with what someone else might have confused with a walking stick. Cory had a careful and systematic mind, which had made her ideal for this assignment from Katerine. Frank Poe¡¯s curse disturbed her, especially with how quickly she would forget that she was even following him, but she was beginning to understand the shape of it. She might not recall anything that Frank Poe had said on new year¡¯s eve, and she only had a vague recollection of some sort of light magic he¡¯d done on the roof, but his odd room filled with couches made an impression. Especially the metal-capped black fighting stick that had leaned unobtrusively in the corner during the dinner at the August Agency. Just like the stick this stranger carried. She might not be following Frank Poe, but she could follow his fighting stick. She made a note in her book. ¡­ Frank had several spots on his walk toward the meeting location where he would check for followers. The city¡¯s winding streets and blind alleys¡ªmore often than not¡ªhelped with mundane methods for catching a tail. Frank found a sharp corner that had an almost entirely hidden doorway just as he would turn down the side street. He could break the line of sight with any follower, and it was natural for anyone following to speed up and round the corner to try to catch sight of him. If he stopped at just the right spot in the doorway, he had an opportunity to catch the spy or avoid them entirely. Just a few moments out of a follower¡¯s view worked. Frank thought his distanced output illusion array, which made two smoke versions of himself, had cleverly distracted the spies. He¡¯d even decided to draw out an entire array on Marie¡¯s table so that he could improve his control. When the spell finished, and he¡¯d left the office, the street outside the August Agency was empty. Frank reckoned the decoys worked as planned. So, when he turned the corner and slipped into the shadows of the door, he was certain that his caution was more paranoia than practical concern. Not only was he dressed plainly, but his distraction should have gotten the spies far enough away from the Agency that there would be no way to link him to it, even if they had seen him on the street. Frank even murmured the magic detecting spell to quiet his footsteps as he rounded the corner. As he waited in shadow, Cory turned the corner, walking briskly to follow him, then walked past the doorway where Frank sulked. Startled, Frank almost raised his stick to strike, when he stopped himself. Marie wouldn¡¯t like it if Frank hit her friend, even if she was a spy for the Stag. Cursing internally, Frank stepped out of the shadow directly behind Cory, turned sharply, then retraced his steps, walking briskly around the corner. Marie wasn¡¯t the only one with quiet vinyl-soled boots. Cory did not notice in time to see Frank disappear into the night. Shaken that Cory managed to follow him, Frank took a long detour to avoid that street and potentially crossing paths with her again. He also checked for followers several more times before he felt confident enough that he had, at last, beaten his tail. As he put on his mask, he found himself gritting his teeth. Again. He bustled to the meeting, and was nearly late to catch the start. ¡®These spies wouldn¡¯t be a problem if I had the respect I deserve.¡¯ Frank thought, ¡®If I¡¯d finished my mastery as planned. If my family still treated me like their child. No cold looks and unbearable silence. Cursed Depths, I wouldn¡¯t even need to be a driftwood-forsaken investigator. I could be a real sorcerer, with a real job at the High Crown¡¯s Palace.¡¯ Frank gave the password and quickly found a seat. Because Frank arrived late, he and the pearl seller acknowledged each other, but they would have to wait till the end of the meeting for the arbitrators to oversee the sale.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. As the meeting began in earnest, Frank buzzed with excitement, but he did try to pay attention. The healer returned with a new mask. Frank identified her because when the alchemist asked about the sempervivum apricus and mandrake, she identified herself. The new mask seemed high quality, including some sort of minor attention diverting ward that Frank felt pressing against his mind. Frank also noted the healer seemed to return with a shopping list; she purchased a portable water carrier, liquid stone, minor healing potions, and lung sealing potions. She traded these potions for no small about of gold. The fact that the young healer seemed to be buying up the kinds of potions one might see on a battlefield suggested that the Stags, or whoever the woman represented, expected a fight soon. Frank didn¡¯t have much trouble identifying Canelo either and she seemed particularly attentive to the healer¡¯s purchases. Frank silently vowed to himself that the August Agency wouldn¡¯t be caught in that fight. When it came time to sell, the young healer surprisingly seemed to be selling three conduits: one modest gem, one small one that might be used by a child or weak sorcerer, and a shattered one. None of them were terribly strong. Masks were a good way to prevent someone from showing surprise, and Frank reckoned he was not the only one who benefited from having a mask. Usually a person-to-person sale would receive a better price, there were only so many reasons to sell a conduit this way. The magical gems could be stolen, but ¡ª given the intensely personal nature of conduits ¡ª they were difficult to steal, unless you killed the sorcerer. She might have acquired them as payment, but then to sell them at a meeting suggested she did not know anyone to sell them to. Frank didn¡¯t want to fall into a confirmation bias, but it seemed likely this healer lived an isolated existence as he¡¯d already guessed. Frank could gift the small one, and use the shards in a spell array, but he didn¡¯t have a use for the medium rated conduit. Frank considered making an offer on the small conduit. It might be a good gift for Marie, but the bidding started off at 75 gold for the two working conduits. It was more than he had planned to offer, but, because Frank had been trailing behind Silverling when he¡¯d been trying to sell a conduit, Frank wasn¡¯t surprised. The shop selling price of conduits had risen dramatically. Those shop¡¯s offers on Silvering¡¯s conduit had been relatively low, which Frank reckoned came from a tightening the grip on monopoly pricing. In this respect, that was the point of these meetings. This mystery healer would almost certainly walk away with a better price than a shop offered. The fat alchemist offered 80 gold and etherwood leaves for the lot. Frank thought that it was a balanced offer; money for the working conduits and an exchange of ingredients. Not everyone agreed. ¡°These prices are ridiculous; wait a few months till the shortage is over and you¡¯ll be able to get that celerium for half the price.¡± A woman said. Frank doubted that. ¡°My offer stands. I like to build up relationships with useful people¡± The fat alchemist replied. Frank nodded to himself. He didn¡¯t have a reason to cultivate the new healer as a contact, but illegal healing always demanded ingredients. A little good will now might pay off handsomely for the type that dealt in smuggled materials. ¡°One hundred fifteen gold for all the celerium.¡± The Arbiter offered. Now that was unusual, because the offer had the hallmark of a bribe. Frank shifted his head to try to get a better look at the healer. ¡®Are the Arbiters picking sides?¡¯ Frank wondered. No one else bid. Then it was Tanya¡¯s turn, and she asked whether anyone had been able set up a meeting with the Raven Queen. Frank found the answer unsurpising. ¡°I tried, but my contact refused to help. They were afraid to talk about the Raven Queen at all. Wouldn¡¯t even say her name. Apparently, Lord Lynwood is cracking down. I suggest you go to the Verdant Stag and ask there. The red-haired proprietress has connections to Lord Stag, and he should be able to get you an audience.¡± Canello already knew this, and said so. Frank frowned to himself. Maybe Canello would return to him for information. He may not have been loyal to Lord Lynwood, but Frank was hardly likely to provide more information now. He was curious about the Raven Queen, but he considered the August Agency¡¯s contract with Canello complete. There wouldn¡¯t be any need to mention Silverling¡¯s connection unless Canello paid for it. Frank even wondered idly whether Canello knew Silverling. ¡®Maybe I should be going to her for information.¡¯ Frank chuckled to himself. ¡°The previous offer still stands.¡± Canello said. ¡°Anyone who can give me relevant information about the Raven Queen or set up a meeting between us will be rewarded. Gold. Beast cores. I also have access to various unusual or restricted components, if you have a very specific need. But I¡¯m not interested in trading for anything except the Raven Queen.¡± When Canello desperately accepted an offer to hear overheard rumors from coppers in bar, Frank sighed to himself. Her arrogance and pride were catching up to her. The seller of the Shen Dragon Pearl asked if there were any counter offers, but Lisa declined to sweeten her offer, and apparently no one else was willing to reopen their bids. As the meeting turned to the general exchange of information, Grandmother spoke. ¡°There are rumblings of blood and violence in Gilbratha¡¯s future. It is like a violin string pulled too tight, on the verge of snapping and slicing through flesh. Take heed. Be wary.¡± ¡°That¡¯s pretty obvious to anyone with eyes and ears,¡± Frank replied. After some additional news, parties began to divide up and exchange their information and goods. Frank went with the Arbiter and the pearl seller to conduct the exchange. He removed the books from the satchel, and placed them on the table. The seller drew out knotted fabric-wrapped parcel from their own storage case, and placed it in front of Frank. The fabric itself was a coarse cotton dyed ochre. Frank untied the knotted fabric and revealed a ceramic circular jewel box that was a little larger than cupped hands, and decorated with a scene of a bearded sorcerer conversing with a ridiculous image of a busty and unrealistically human-looking mermaid. Frank lifted the lid off the box, turning it over and seeing that padding extended to the underside of the lid. In the box, nestled in layers of a purplish blue silk, the Shen pearl shone iridescent. ¡°The padded china box is included. No charge.¡± The seller murmured. Frank silently nodded in response, his speech having left him entirely. The nearly spherical pearl glowed as beautiful as a full moon. The pearl appeared larger than he expected, wider in diameter than a finger joint, and not at all like the tiny jewels pearls tended to be. On its surface, a beautiful iridescent sheen reflected the dim light in the private room. Even in the dim light, the pearl shown a deep purple ranging to mottled pink and grey nacre. Small blooms of white spots, almost like stars, shimmered on its surface. Frank had researched the Shen pearls as much as he¡¯d could, and they were described as beautiful, but those descriptions failed to reveal how shockingly magical the pearl appeared. Frank reached forward, but he hesitated to touch it. He suddenly felt that the pearl shouldn¡¯t be touched by unworthy fingers. The appraiser appeared to look between the two. ¡°May I pick it up and examine it for the appraisal?¡± He asked. Frank and the seller nodded. The Appraiser put on a white glove and carefully lifted the pearl from its divot in the fabric. He brought a thaumaturge¡¯s loupe to his eye and looked at the pearl through it. Then he hesitantly brought the pearl to his mask, lifted the bottom of his mask, and rubbed it gently on his front teeth. He replaced the lower half of his mask and nodded. ¡°It¡¯s so beautiful, I almost don¡¯t want to test its capacity.¡± The appraiser observed. ¡°These tests can damage natural stones, and I¡¯ve never tested a Shen pearl before.¡± Frank finally found his voice. ¡°Go ahead.¡± He croaked, and coughed. The appraiser had a device ready for the the test with spring resistor and a needle gauge. ¡°This is one of my own devices. It works very well when testing unknown gems.¡± He murmured. After carefully fitting the pearl in the device, the appraiser began channelling magic into a crystal light and reading the little gauge. After a few minutes, he announced the Pearl¡¯s capacity. ¡°The pearl can channel over 1300 thaums for a short period, and probably would channel 1000 thaums for many hours without damage. I warn you, it may heat up quickly if you used it to resist another¡¯s will, but honestly, its the highest capacity natural pearl I¡¯ve ever heard of, and it¡¯s still just as smooth at channeling will as unblemished cerelium of a similar size. Remarkable. I would say that this is exactly as offered, perhaps even better quality than described.¡± The appraiser carefully removed the pearl from the device and returned it to the box. Frank carefully replaced the lid and retied the square of fabric. ¡°Now the books.¡± The seller said. The appraiser treated the books with nearly as much reverence as the pearl, carefully lifting each book from the table, flipping through the pages with gloved hands, reviewing the table of contents and skimming several chapters. ¡°See here?¡± The appraiser pointed at the endpapers in on the volumes that he had opened on the table. ¡°These are hand decorated with floated dye; no two books¡¯ endpapers are alike. This isn¡¯t the parchment edition, which are even more valuable, but even the regular edition books were printed on mixed silk and cotton paper.¡± He closed one volume and flipped it to show the spine to the buyer. ¡°Leather, of course, but also embossed with the printer¡¯s seal and publisher¡¯s proof marks and inlaid with gold leaf. See that the printer¡¯s mark is an oak leaf? The printer in Gilbratha¡¯s mark is a fish. Forgers rarely get that right. ¡± Then the appraiser opened the books to the title page. It was stamped with a red - almost black - censorship mark. ¡°And here is the censor¡¯s mark, marking these books for destruction. There¡¯s a mark in every volume here, which is consistent with the import embargo on these books. The city publisher also has a censor¡¯s mark, but it will show that it has been reviewed and they marked those books with green, rather than red. Green-lit some call it.¡± The appraiser nodded to himself. ¡°Do you need additional proof of authenticity? I can¡¯t personally attest to the contents.¡± ¡°Let me browse a few sections. I¡¯ve had the censored sections described to me in sufficient detail that I can verify if the passages are identical.¡± The pearl seller drew a few pages of notes from a pocket. ¡°You¡¯re sure the description is accurate?¡± Frank asked. ¡°I¡¯d hate that this sale doesn¡¯t go through because your expert has read a forgery.¡± ¡°My expert has personally reviewed original volumes in the restricted Archives of the University. They are trustworthy.¡± Frank shrugged. He knew the books were authentic. He, however, wouldn¡¯t have any way of convincing this stranger otherwise. The seller flipped through several chapters and silently read several pages in sections Frank knew were removed from the expurgated volumes. He appeared to compare them to his notes. Eventually, he put the volume back down on the table. ¡°This is authentic. Could I pay you to tell me how you managed to get these books?¡± ¡°No.¡± Frank replied. ¡°As expected.¡± The buyer carefully picked up the books and started putting them in an expanded-volume case. The arbitrator nodded. ¡°The exchange is accepted. Please take your goods.¡± Frank lifted the box from the table and gently put it in his satchel. Lightly tapping his his fighting stick on the floor to reduce his jittering nerves, he returned to the main room. The exchange took over an hour. Canello, the young healer, and everyone else appeared to have left, or they were finishing up in other private rooms. Frank used great care heading home, but when he finally arrived, walking past the spies watching the August Agency¡¯s front door, Frank¡¯s face hurt from smiling.