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queen-scribbles · 2 months

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The Long Burning Torch ch 9

Heeeere we go, next chapter for my @shepherds-of-haven 20's AU! ----

Gutter water seeped into Xaeryn's shoes as she misstepped, but she hardly noticed. It was coming up on time for King Kaza and his entourage to reach the Ashtown gate, if she'd guessed right. Please let me have guessed right. It wasn't just a matter of if he was visiting wherever his people had stashed the Torch(and Red), but which gate they would use to pass between districts. There were two, one closer to the king's hotel, the other closer to the theorized goal.

Xaeryn was placing her hopes on someone like Kaza Ackshin wanting to spend as little time in such a rough and tumble place as possible. She studied the passersby and passing vehicles with the same scrutiny, unsure of travel method given when her scry had ended. She was fairly certain they weren't translocating, with how many were in the group and it not being Heron's main skillset, according to Briony.

She was pulled from her thoughts by the rattle of an approaching car engine, heartbeat quickening when she saw it was a gleaming red beast, cleaner and a trifle more elegant than the majority of other vehicles she'd seen. Bold of anyone to take something that ritzy into Ashtown; it was going to get filthy and probably nicked. She peered intently at the interior. The timing worked out, maybe this was--

The was a flash of the bodyguard's silver-white hair in one window, a couple indistinct silhouettes, then a glimpse of King Kaza's profile when he leaned forward to talk to the driver as the car trundled past. Xaeryn caught a sharp breath, let her gaze flick away for just a moment to look for Darius, then glued it back on the automobile. She wanted to let it get a bit more distance before she followed. Ashtown's streets were a rutted mess; you could drive them, but not fast. Regardless, she would need to move soon.

If he's not here in the next five seconds, I'm going alone, she thought grimly, stepping from her hiding place. I warned him-

A shadowy figure rushed toward her, and she started to reach for the dagger in her handbag before green hair registered.

"Half expected not to find a blazin' trace," Darius said, tucking himself out of the car's line of sight with her.

"You were about two seconds from that being the case," Xaeryn returned dryly. "That's their car, we're following."

Darius nodded and the two of them were moving, close to buildings, letting evening shadows swallow them. "Who's with him?"

"The Ket for sure. It looked like Briony as well when I scryed, but I couldn't see for sure and can't confirm she's in the car. I may have seen another guard or two as well, but I was more focused on the king."

Darius grunted. "Maybe we should split. Opposite sides of the street," he pointed out, dodging a pothole. "Better visibility and lower odds we catch their eye."

"Good thinking," Xaeryn nodded, gaze still locked on the hazy silhouette of the car. "Next time there's a long enough shadow or they make a turn-"

Even as she spoke, the car swung into a right turn.

"Go," she hissed, pressing herself close to the building as she rounded the turn after them. For half a second, she was afraid Darius would argue being the one to cross the street, but he didn't, jaw set as he darted to the opposing shadows. They wouldn't be able to talk, but that wasn't really necessary at this point.

Almost a mile from the Smoketown gate, very close to to the outer wall, the car finally braked in front of a mid-sized building, hybrid small warehouse and offices from the look of it. The large doors covering half the front opened and they drove inside. Xaeryn hid herself in a doorway with a good view, saw King Kaza and Heron exit the car. Pink hair made it easy to spot Briony as she followed. So she was here. She and King Kaza both scanned the street, Briony's gaze hitching slightly, before the king said something to someone Xaeryn couldn't see and the doors started to close. Just before it shut she thought belatedly to scan the interior and caught the faint outline of another car. Were they meeting someone? Or was that just an alternate? How many people were in there?

Darius crossed to join her, still skulking in shadow. "So how're we gettin' in, miss snooper?"

She shook her head. He wasn't going to like this. "I need you to go get the authorities."

He bristled. "What?!"

"Now that we have a solid location, back-up wouldn't go amiss." She glanced at him. "There was another car in there. Maybe more than the three of us can handle. We need the police, or better yet, the Shepherds," she amended as a thought occurred. "Magic rigmarole is more in their purview than the police, and their compound is in Ashtown so it's closer."

"Why's it gotta be me?" Darius grumbled obstinately. "Why can't you do it? You'd get there faster, you live here."

He had a point, damn him, but, "Because it's my case, I've been working it for two sennights, and it's my best friend they abducted and I am not breezing when I'm this close!" Xaeryn hissed. "Also, I'm good at sneaking."

He arched a skeptical brow at that claim, glancing her height over, and looked ready to argue further--we don't have time, just do what I'm asking--before nodding with a scowl. "Hael, fine. Where are they?"

"About half a mile." She gave him rapid, grateful directions. "Tell them Miss Shrike's case could use their expertise. I crossed paths with a squad while investigating, my name might mean something."

His scowl deepened, argument still clear in his eyes. "Tell Bry to be careful, huh?" he growled, tugging down his cap as he headed off.

If I get the chance. She had to get inside first, figure out the layout, where things were, how many brunos there were aside from the ones she'd seen. The storage portion of the building looked to be the bottom quarter where they'd parked, leaving the rest of the space for offices and other rooms. A lot to search. And if they were smart...

There. The lookout was lounging against the side of the building, hidden in shadow.

She'd have to approach from the other side, where he was at least partially blind. I wonder if Briony even knows we're here, she mused as she carefully made her way across the street. They wouldn't be able to coordinate to any degree if she didn't know Xaeryn and Darius had followed.

The angle of Xaeryn's approach to avoid the lookout put her on the carport/storage side of the building, which had markedly fewer doors or windows. In fact, aside from the big main doors, she only found one; most of the way down the side wall near the back corner, a tiny window and greasy door, unlit despite the lengthening shadows.

She peered through the window as best she could--inside wasn't much better lit than out here--and reached for the door. She was fairly good with locks, but with no light out here--

The knob turned, unlocked. Xaeryn froze.

Luck? A trap? The One-God looking out for her?

Ultimately it didn't matter because Red was in there. So no matter how fortuitous this was, she was accepting it. She slowly, carefully opened the door and stepped inside.

She was in a back corner of the warehouse space, surrounded by cast-off equipment and crates, along with a few of the latter that lacked dust and were likely more recent additions. Xaeryn waited for her eyes to adjust and started carefully picking her way across the room. She skirted the cars, noting what details she could with the dark.

Including the red accents on the car that had been here when King Kaza arrived.

There were two doors on the far wall that led to the offices, one dark, one with light showing underneath. She went to the former, found it locked. No. The knob turned, the door was warped. Not getting in that way. Not without a great deal of noise. She moved to the other door reluctantly, ears pricked of any sound on the other side that would herald a watchman.

This one was unlocked and opened easily. The light was dimmer than she'd expected, lamps turned low. There was a hallway to her left, bisected by a wall and cracked-open door halfway down. Ahead and slightly to the right was a flight of stairs, with light filtering down from the second floor.

Which way...? Something tense and desperate coiled in Xaeryn's chest as she deliberated the value and risks of each. She could hear the murmur of voices but couldn't tell the direction. I can't just stand here, I need to move.

A glint of something white and shiny caught her eye as she rubbed the back of her neck. Tucked in a crack in the wall a couple steps up the stairs, angled so its paws pointed up, she found the ahfuri figurine Briony had bought at Chandry's.

If that wasn't a clue... Xaeryn gently pried the statuette from the wall and tucked it in her handbag. What could it mean but Briony had seen them following and was trying to help without blowing her cover?

The tread of footsteps filtered down from above and Xaeryn backpedaled down the stairs. She moved swiftly toward the door bisecting the hall as the steps continued heading the stairs, joined by the sound of conversation. She slipped through the cracked-open door and stood behind it, hoping the people were just heading for the warehouse.

There was the creak of a door opening, then the low murmur of voices too quiet to overhear cut off as it closed. They were gone. She waited a couple minutes all but holding her breath, then stepped back through. It was a relief to see the hall empty. They're probably watching the cars.

Xaeryn chewed the inside of her cheek as she made her way up the stairs, tensed every step for them to creak or break or give her away. A more patient and canny dame might've waited for King Kaza to leave so there were fewer guards to avoid. But she couldn't. Not this time, not while they had Red. It was her fault he'd been abducted, like blazing hael she was going to leave him one second longer than she had to. Especially not knowing what lengths these goons would go to get what they wanted, or what they'd do after. She had her suspicions, though, and those had her pulse pounding in her ears.

She reached the top of the steps, carefully checking for guards as she went and seeing none. They must be in the rooms, to stay with their charges. She needed to find out if anyone was here besides King Kaza or if that car was simply an alternate for his people.

But if he was already following me before the gala, why did he act like we'd never met? Let me spin the yarn about Circe Blackwood? Was he just toying with me?

Riddles for later. For now she wanted to find Red, find the Torch--yes, God help her, in that order--and get out of here. Finding enough evidence or otherwise managing to implicate King Kaza--and Jarkyth, if he was involved--would be a lovely bonus. But her job was the Torch and her goal was Red and hopefully Darius wouldn't have too much trouble convincing the Shepherds.

Xaeryn paused to take stock. This was a tricky spot; hallway ahead of her and one coming in as a blind corner to her right. The room almost straight in from of her looked larger than the others lining the hall. And there was something about the lights... Aside from the ones at the head of the stairs, they seemed dim, with a barely noticeable flicker that set her teeth on edge and had an ache starting in her temples, faint but annoying.

Alright, let's see... There were three rooms along the left of the hall ahead, the larger room and blind corner on the right, and who knew how many more rooms down that righthand hall. Well, that's what you need to find out. If there are rooms with no windows, those would make the most sense for stashing a stolen artefact and a captive.

She'd passed the first of the left hand rooms when she heard voices to the right. She stepped rapidly into the second room, pressing herself against the wall by the door. Thank God it was unlocked.

"...more stubborn than anticipated." That was King Kaza, tone a mix of amusement and frustration. "He maintains he cannot read it."

"Well, that's hokum," a woman replied, voice cultured, steely, and unfamiliar. "Th' gumshoe looked me in th' eye and said he'd helped develop it."

Red. They were talking about Red. And from the woman's comment... Xaeryn bit her lip and peeked around the doorframe. The woman must be the Shifter. It would be good to know what she looked like when she wasn't masquerading as Ms. Aerin.

Hopefully with this room being unlit Xaeryn wouldn't be easy to spot. It allowed a look down the blind corner hall, and she could just make out the king standing at a juncture with another perpendicular hall, but the woman was out of view.

King Kaza chuckled. "Did she? Very good, Syra." He stroked his chin. "I must again relay my thanks for your aid to our patron. You have been invaluable."

The woman, Syra, snorted a laugh. "Just keep your end of our deal and that will be thank enough for us both." She shifted, moving enough into view Xaeryn could see long silky blue-black hair decorated with narrow braids. "So what're we doing about him?"

"Leave him. Let him think we believe his claim. He is not going anywhere." King Kaza gestured toward one of the doors and Xaeryn's heart skipped a beat. "In an hour, at most, we shall revisit to clarify our resolve and the... nature of his predicament." His fingers drummed the hilt of dagger at his belt and Xaeryn nearly reached for hers.

You hurt him and I swear-- She grit her teeth, which made the headache worse.

"You're the boss," Syra said, shrugging, as the two of them headed into the larger room. "Sort of. If you think it's the best way..."

Xaeryn barely managed to wait a three-count after they were gone before she started back out the door. And then stopped. She should probably check out this room while she was here. Just in case circumstance didn't allow for her coming back, to be sure. But Red.

A quick look. If nothing pops out I'm going, she compromised. He's so close. She tried to summon a witchlight, but her focus was too rattled and the soft flame wouldn't come. She used the faint light from the window instead. Nothing caught her eye. In fact, the room was almost empty.

Relieved both that she could mentally check it as searched and that doing so hadn't taken long, Xaeryn moved with the bare minimum of caution to the door King Kaza had indicated. It was locked, of course. And she'd been in too much of a tizzy when she left to grab her picks.

She gnawed her lower lip, glaring at the lock as if she could foil it through force of will. To be so close and stymied by something so simple... it was making her head hurt, a sense of urgency crawling under her skin.

Xaeryn swiveled to look for something she could maybe use, evidence of an unlocked room where she could look, and came up empty for the hallway. But the dull glint of something in her peripheral reminded her of another option.

Her brooch. The bronze sun Chandry had given her. If the lock was simple enough, it just might work. And really, a run of the mill office building was unlikely to have shelled out for anything fancy, and it had been languishing in disrepair for who-knew-how-long before King Kaza appropriated it.

She plucked the sun from her blouse, flipping out the surprisingly sturdy-looking straight pin. God, please let this work. One last look to confirm no one was coming, no voices heralded a need to hide, and she knelt to start working.

It was, thank God, a rudimentary lock, but it had been quite a while since she picked one with makeshift tools and she bit her lip in concentration as she finagled it. Come on, come o-

She gasped as a hand wrapped around her arm, yanking her abruptly to her feet.

The bruno holding her arm scowled. "How'd you get in here?"

Xaeryn closed her hand around the brooch, the pin and the sun's rays digging into her palm as she gathered her composure. "Through the door."

"Oh, think you're cute," the guard growled. He was a solidly built muti; how blinkered had she been to not hear him coming? "You can tell it to the boss."

"Love to," Xaeryn retorted, even as her heart pounded. No way she could take him in a fight, not by herself. But if Briony was with King Kaza, or if she could drag her feet long enough for Darius to get back with the Shepherds(hopefully), maybe there was a chance.

The guard just sneered at her retort and hauled her toward the room she'd seen King Kaza and Syra enter. He did seem slightly surprised she wasn't fighting harder.

She wanted to. She wanted to break free, incapacitate him, and free Red. But she knew her limits, and handling a brute like this in a dust-up was beyond them. So she played along and prayed for a solution.

Sizing up the room on their arrival wasn't a promising situation. King Kaza and Syra stood in line with the door, the latter leaning slightly against a dilapidated desk as they conversed. There were two other guards in the room--Heron and the one she'd seen in the car--but she didn't see Briony.

Xaeryn tensed and tried to make herself relax as King Kaza broke off his conversation with Syra to arch a brow at her arrival. "Miss Blackwood. I cannot wait to hear what you thought to find here." He smirked. "I imagine it's quite a tale."

"I can start it for her," Syra said, eyes narrowed. "Her name's not Blackwood; this is the snooper. The one after the Torch. Miss Shrike."

"That's me," Xaeryn said, looking around the room and trying to calm--or at least hide--her pounding heart. "You had quite the ingenious method of acquiring it, I must say. Real brain twister." She glanced at Heron, standing with arms crossed near a dusty bookcase that jutted into the room. This must've been a clerical space, record-keeping and multiple secretaries sharing the room. In a fight with back up she could make good use of a space like this, with the multiple desks, cabinets, and shelves. "Almost stumped me."

"And yet here you are," a new voice said, low and almost hypnotizing. "I wonder if we should credit that to your ingenuity or your determination, Miss Shrike." The speaker strode into view from around the bookcase, a shorter man with piercing black eyes and styled dark hair, wearing a suit that probably cost more than she made in a year. No introduction was necessary; he was instantly recognizable to any devotee of the One-God. Talquist Jarkyth. The Western Hierophant.

"I'm more inclined to think it's a combination," Xaeryn countered. No way was she getting her heart to slow now. Her head was still pounding, too.

"You knew she was on our trail and didn't loop me in?!" King Kaza demanded. "We-"

"There was no need," Jarkyth cut him off sharply. "I had people on it. Too many would have defeated efforts at subtlety." He chuckled. "You have proven a most tenacious and clever example of your profession, Miss Shrike. How odd that you have stumbled here, at the end."

"Stumbled, how?" she asked. It was, most likely, futile to play dumb. But if he could toy with her, she could do the same. If he'd had people on her, and was here now, odds were good the car with red accents was his.

"Coming here alone, not waiting for the building to be unoccupied before you entered." He steepled his fingers and tsked. "I was very close to being impressed. I wonder what might've changed to spark such a misstep."

This time Xaeryn ignored his hinting completely, despite the sinking in her gut, turning instead to King Kaza. "Don't tell me you believe the bunk about the Torch making you invulnerable."

"And who decided it is 'bunk'? Civilized, modern scholars?" King Kaza scoffed. "We know it has an effect on magic, and legends are born from truth."

"And embellishment," she countered, mind racing at that tidbit. What kind of effect? "And even the original tribe didn't remain invulnerable." She shifted and the guard tightened his grip on her arm. Right. He was still there.

"But they did have good fortune and protection, by all accounts. And it is a tie to the land regardless." he crossed his arms. "My plans to establish myself in Jalis will go significantly more smoothly with tangible proof of my belonging, and the Torch should be mine by rights."

"You can't prove that, which is why you resorted to stealing it." Xaeryn glanced around the room. Where the hael was Briony? "Do you think people won't find that out?"

"The Jalis runs on conquest, Miss Shrike. Merely by holding the Torch I will prove my rights to it. And then prove my strength. It is, in fact, lucky for me that you are here." He sat on the edge of the desk, smirking. "While Syra has been invaluable, and what she learned from you was useful confirmation" --the Shifter matched his smirk and Xaeryn grit her teeth--"it will be even more useful for you to regale us with anything else you've learned of the pendant's capabilities. And before you try to claim you may not remember everything, I have something to help with that." He tapped one of the desk drawers and gave her a meaningful look.

Xaeryn's fingers curled in. He had to mean her notepad. "Reading or reciting, why would I give you information that would help you subjugate others?" she asked, surprised how level she kept her voice. The brooch was digging into her hand. "I'd never be able to live with myself."

"I believe you." King Kaza flashed a shark-like grin. "I also believe you know you aren't our only, hm, guest."

Her heart dropped to her toes, hands clenching tighter as she struggled to limit her reaction. The brooch was digging into her hand, almost deep enough to draw blood.

He leaned back against the desk. "How well would you live with yourself, detective, if harm befell him thanks to your actions--or lack thereof?"

Xaeryn was only vaguely aware of a door opening and closing behind her, fury boiling too hot to temper. "You lay a finger on him--"

The guard's grip tightened and King Kaza's grin widened. "That is exactly where I thought we could start, actually. It gives you several chances to reconsider before your friend has suffered too much." His gaze drifted over her shoulder. "Excellent timing, Stormbreaker."

She hoped he read only fury in her jaw's twitch at the words.

"Did you need me, highness?" There was a faintly brittle twang in Briony's voice.

"As you see, we caught a trespasser." King Kaza gestured to Xaeryn. When his gaze shifted away, she realigned the brooch in her grasp.

If their focus all stayed on Briony and the king, maybe she could grip it right to use as a weapon and escape the guard's grasp. It was the closest thing she had; her handbag had dropped in the hall when the guard grabbed her.

"I do see," Briony said. "How's that matter to me?"

"I think it will be most enlightening to get her and our captive in the same room." He pushed off the desk.

"Kaza, dispense with the dramatics and do what needs doing," Jarkyth said coldly. "Pageantry has its place, but this is not it, not on a schedule like ours."

"Yes, your grace. Stormbreaker, you and I will take her, the rest can check for any other interlopers."

She had the sun aligned, thumb pressing the hinge to keep the pin jutting out. There would be no coordination, hopefully she and Briony could make this work. She didn't even know the other woman's fighting style; if she leaned more toward straight brawling or had some level of finesse.

Briony stepped closer, her hand settling on Xaeryn's arm just above the elbow. It was a mirror of the other guard's grip, which he loosened seeing the king's bodyguard take possession of the prisoner.

Briony caught Xaeryn's gaze for a heartbeat, then in one fluid motion dragged her several steps to the side and punched the guard in the face.

He went down with a squawk and crunch of bone that heralded a broken nose. Heron and the other other guard proved to have the fastest reflexes, and even they hesitated a beat before closing in. Xaeryn wheeled on the guard as Briony staggered Hereon with a kick to the gut.

With a prayer and a hard jab, she aimed the brooch pin at the guard's face--and got lucky; the pin caught the soft hollow at the corner of his eye. She twisted in to shoulder check him and sent him crashing over one of the desks.

The nape of her neck tingled with a sense of danger and Xaeryn ducked to the left, almost running onto a bookshelf but feeling the breeze of a missed punch. She pivoted to see Syra already swinging again, the silver glint of punching daggers clenched in each hand.

Xaeryn knocked the blow aside with the back of her wrist, already-bruised hand complaining at the strike. She grit her teeth to ignore it and snapped her knee up toward Syra's stomach.

Syra dodged backward and swiped again. The punching dagger sliced the shoulder of Xaeryn's blouse but didn't catch skin. She was vaguely aware of Kaza launching himself at Briony, knife in each hand and growling oaths about treachery.

Xaeryn pressed her advantage--if you could call it that--to close in and force Syra back against the desk. The Shifter rolled along the edge, taking a swing as she did. This one slashed a shallow cut into Xaeryn's forearm when she blocked and Syra smirked even as she retreated a step at the desk's corner for space. Xaeryn shook out the sting, but before she retaliated she caught the clatter of shifting wood and quietly growled curses.

She ducked backwards with perfect timing for the guard she'd incapacitated before to go barreling between her and Syra. His momentum from the miss carried him into the window and he vanished from sight with a tremendous shattering of glass and dismayed yell.

Syra punched at Xaeryn and in her half-distracted state it was pure instinct she managed to block it. Syra immediately followed with the other hand, and Xaeryn caught her wrist to redirect the blow back at her. The punching dagger drove into the base of Syra's neck.

She gave a choked grunt and took one last feeble swing at Xaeryn as she swayed, before crumbling across the desk.

Xaeryn took a breath, turned to see how Briony was faring--

A hand clamped on the back of her neck and flung her across the room.

She yelped as she ricocheted off the corner of the desk before hitting the floor and narrowly avoided banging her head hard enough to see stars. The brooch went skittering away at the impact, depriving her of any weapon.

"You bitch!" Heron snarled, following with a faint glow building around his fists.

Xaeryn shook off the daze and scrambled backwards. A vicious kick aimed at her ribs caught her thigh instead.

She kicked back, catching his ankle and making him stagger. It only gave her a second of breathing room, but that second got her halfway to her feet and more mobile to avoid his next attack.

The was pretty much her only strategy against Battle Mages; dodge until they got tired and she got lucky. Given Heron wasn't her first opponent in this fight--and he was bloody furious--she wasn't sure that was going to work this time.

He grabbed a fistful of her blouse and shoved her back into a bookshelf.

Almost definitely not going to work this time.

There was scuffling, a distressed "Xaeryn!" from Briony, and the unmistakable thud of something hitting the back of Heron's head.

But it wasn't the pink-haired warrior standing behind him when he staggered under the blow.

It was Red, white knuckle grip on the 2x4 he wielded and worry blazing in his eyes as he whacked Heron once more for good measure. Hard enough it broke the board in the process and sent the man crumpling to the floor.

The two of them stared at each other for a moment before the board hit the ground and they lunged forward, Red's hands gripping her shoulders and Xaeryn's cupping his jaw and both blurting, "Are you alright?!"

How are you here-?!

Before either could answer, however, Briony bolted past for the door. "Xaeryn, Jarkyth!!"

Xaeryn groaned and reluctantly pulled herself away from Red to help with pursuit. He was alive, and she hadn't seen any serious injuries. A more thorough inventory could wait.

Briony was already thundering down the stairs, unnaturally fast. Halfway down behind her, Xaeryn could see the door hanging open and her heart sank. "Watch out!" she hollered, catching movement as one of the downstairs guards charged down the hall at Briony. He caught her around the waist and slammed her into a wall, but dropped with a yelp when she elbowed him in the face.

It still slowed her enough Xaeryn caught up, and the two of them burst out the door at almost the same moment.

To find an empty street.

"Dammit!" Briony growled, kicking the dirt. She clasped her hands against the back of her head, fingers tangling in her ponytail. "If I'd gotten Kaza down just a second faster..."

Xaeryn shook her head. "No sense in playing what if." She surveyed the streets, but His Grace must've been really hotfooting it; there was no sign.

Briony sucked her teeth. "He might have the Torch, Xaeryn. He had enough of a headstart to grab it b'fore he rabbited."

Her heart dropped at the thought. For all her work, the risk she'd brought to Red, to be for nothing in the end... "Is there a way we can check? Did you see where they were keeping it?"

Briony nodded, letting her hands fall. "I did, t'night."

Headlights swung into view from a sidestreet, the truck they belonged to very clearly headed their way, and both women froze.

"Briony!" a familiar voice called from the back, and Darius jumped down before the vehicle had come to a complete stop.

"Coulda used ya about twenty seconds ago, D," Briony chided, but she was still grinning as she gave him a hug and a shoulder punch in quick succession. "Jarkyth scarpered."

"Had t' convince the backup I was on the level," he said gruffly, returning the hug and swaying from the shoulder punch. "Captains Trick and Emroth." He jerked a thumb at the two women climbing down from the cab of the now-halted truck.

"We've met," Xaeryn said dryly. She was grateful not to have Trick's pistol leveled at her chest this time. And she left off her recollection she and Captain Emroth--Iorwen--were school acquaintances. She had bigger concerns at the moment. "Most of us," she amended as a hulking blond Ket hopped from the back of the truck.

"Oh, this is Daren," Trick said with a wave in his direction. "He's a new recruit an' we figured this would be good field experience. You can sweep around the building, Daren, look for any tryin' to sneak off."

"The ones inside are mostly unconscious or at least incapacitated" --she didn't know what shape Briony left the king in--"but you'll still want to keep alert."

"Always," Captain Emroth said as she headed for the building. "Hear you had a friend kidnapped?"

Xaeryn nodded. "Red."

A muscle twitched in Iorwen's jaw as that sank in. "I'll take care of him," she promised, disappearing inside before Xaeryn could explain he's gotten free somehow, he'd come swooping to her rescue somehow, just make sure he's alright.

Leaving aside that Iorwen--Captain Emroth; this was an official setting--was someone she'd trust enough to let her job take focus under the circumstances, she still needed to go back inside. "I think the artefact I'm looking for might still be in there," Xaeryn said to Trick. "The... true butter and egg man of this heist got away, but there are some vital members among the incapacitated."

"Oh, we'll help with collectin' them," Briony interjected. "I know how many there should be." She grabbed Darius by the sleeve and started dragging him inside.

"Briony," Xaeryn started, hustling after them and vaguely wondering how the woman still had so much energy, "where's the Torch?"

"Oh, right. Upstairs, across the hall from where they were keepin' your friend and down one door toward the further end," Briony rattled off.

They nearly ran into Red in the upstairs hallway, his brows twitching at the sight of extra people. "I, ah, tied up the ones I could," he said, gesturing back toward the room before running his hand through his hair. It helped even less than usual, and Xaeryn was torn between a fond smile at the tousled mess and a wince at how exhausted he looked beneath the general dishevelment and--thankfully minor--injuries.

"Good thinkin," Briony said, still holding Darius' sleeve as she angled toward the room.

"And you're with me," Captain Emroth said with a faint smile. She lightly rested one hand on Red's arm and tugged him to the side.

"Ryn-" Red started to protest.

"Is still working," Captain Emroth finished for him, catching Xaeryn's eye as she and Trick started for the hall Briony had mentioned, "I'm sure that'll change in a few minutes, but for now we're worrying about you..."

Xaeryn didn't hear any more, as she and Trick had turned down the hallway. The door Briony had indicated was cracked slightly ajar. Oh, God, please no. Not after everything.

"You said you think it's in here?" Trick asked.

Xaeryn nodded, braced for the worst as she reached to swing the door open. "There's a chance the one who escaped took it, but I'm hoping not."

"Why won't you give this vanishin' man's name?"

"Oh, you wouldn't believe me if I told you," Xaeryn said wryly as she stepped into the room. There were only a few crates in the room, most covered with dust and undisturbed. The only one that looked promising for her was still closed. Maybe it's still here.

"Try me," Trick deadpanned, leaning against the doorframe.

"Talquist Jarkyth."

A snort. "You don't think I'd believe a politician's involved in shady dealings? How long have you lived in this city again?"

"He's also a religious leader who's made a show of piety. Many will likely find it a hard truth to swallow." She opened the crate and the faint headache she'd been ignoring since her arrival pulsed harshly.

But that was small potatoes compared to the sight of what lay in the crate, bronze ornamentation glinting dully in the half-light, easily recognized from all the time she'd spent staring at photographs.

Solimer's Torch.

Relief and elation spiraled in her chest as she reached for the artefact. It was still here, Jarkyth hadn't made off with it, she could fulfill her contract with Mr. Syndran-

The metal burned when her fingers brushed it and she snatched her hand back with a hiss.

Trick pushed off the doorframe, frowning at her. "What's wrong?"

Xaeryn shook her head--she had a theory but didn't want to say it without proof. "Can I borrow those?" She indicated the thick leather gloves tucked in the captain's belt.

"Oh, sure." Trick tugged them free and passed them over.

"Thank you." Xaeryn slipped one on before reaching into the crate again. The muffling layer did the trick, protecting her from the burning sensation, and she carried it out to the better-lit hallway, which confirmed her suspicion. This was not obsidian, though it was similar enough in coloration she could understand how people were fooled. Particularly Norm scholars, to whom it would be just another lump of rock.

It was thoret.

That answers several questions and raises almost as many new ones. Xaeryn fought down the urge to hold it at arm's length, nausea crawling in her stomach.

"That's your artefact?" Trick wrinkled her nose. "I don't like it."

"For good reason." Xaeryn pulled her gaze away from the talisman. "Captain, do you have any sort of warded containment unit in your truck?"

Trick nodded. "Let me--" there was a tread of footsteps downstairs-- "get him to get it. Daren?"

"Aye," floated up a grunted reply.

"Go grab one of the small blanker boxes, huh?"

"Yes, captain." His footsteps retreated.

As they waited, Briony emerged from the main room hauling a bound and protesting Kaza Ackshin, who was raising a ruckus that even if she was working with the Shepherds, he wasn't a citizen of Haven, local authorities had no right--

"The Shepherds might be based in Haven, but we aren't limited to Haven," Trick hollered after in interruption, and Kaza glared daggers at her before Briony manhandled him down the stairs.

Daren came up after they'd passed but before Darius followed with one of the guards. "Here you go."

"Thank you," Trick said, taking the case, roughly half the size of a breadbox, with a nod. "Good work sweeping for baddies. See if there's anyone in there you can take, and go guard the ones in the truck."

He nodded and headed for the room.

"Here we go, miss detective," Trick said, steadying the box so Xaeryn could nestle the Torch inside it.

"Thank you." Xaeryn placed the Torch in the box and closed it. The gnawing-headache sensation almost immediately diminished. She'd have to ask how these worked later; that was impressive enchantment or technology or both. "I should get this back where it belongs," she said through her sigh of relief as she took the box from Trick.

But her feet were reluctant to move, her gaze drifting over to where Red was. Not that she doubted Captain Emroth's skill, but a very large part of her desperately wanted to make sure for herself that he was alright before she left. Even knowing how elated Mr. Syndran would be to see the Torch was reclaimed.

"Wen'll take good care of him," Trick interjected, having seen where he attention lingered. "She's a first rate doctor, if he needs patchin' up--speakin' of, you want me to take care of your arm?" she nodded toward the shallow gash. "An' if he's the one who was kidnapped we'll need to ask him a few questions, but we won't keep him long."

Xaeyn nodded in response to... several things from that torrent, shifting the case with the Torch to clutch it close. "Captain Emroth and I attended the same school; I'm well-acquainted with her skill as a doctor and sure she's more than capable." Doesn't change wanting to confirm for myself, it's Red. "But if you're willing, I probably should get this patched up before I leave." She held up the injured arm. For appearances if nothing else, considering where I need to go. I look enough a fright without an open wound.

"Oh, I don't even need to go that involved." Trick jerked a thumb at herself. "Elae."

Ah. Xaeryn cracked a tired smile. "I imagine that comes in handy in your line of work."

"'Specially when Trouble Alder's your partner," Trick muttered, but the fond smile playing at her lips undercut any exasperation on the comment. She extended her hand, stopping only an inch or so from Xaeryn's arm. "May I?"

Xaeryn nodded, Trick clasped her arm murmuring quietly, and when she withdrew the wound was gone. Not so much as a scar.

"Thank you, you're quite good at this," Xaeryn commented, examining the skin. The Torch's case sat heavy in her arm. She glanced over at Red again. "I'm going to say farewell and I'll be out of your hair." She knew Mr. Syndran and sometimes Ms. Aerin worked late, but she didn't want to push it. "I'll return the case as soon as I can."

"You're welcome, and no rush, we have plenty," Trick said, moving to help as Briony and Darius returned to bundle the rest of the goons out of the building.

Xaeryn found her throat suddenly, thoroughly dry as she approached Red and Captain Emroth. "Pardon, I know you need to talk to him, but could I have just a minute first?"

Something danced in Iorwen's eyes as she nodded and stepped back. "Sure, you can have a minute."

Tempted as she was to fold him into a hug, there were too many other people coming and going and she was holding something in one arm, so she took Red's hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'm glad you're alright." I was so afraid you wouldn't be.

"Me, too," he said with a soft laugh, squeezing her hand back. "More glad you are."

She arched a brow. "I'm not the one who got abducted, Liefred," she said dryly.

"No, you were just part if a brawl with very bad odds," he drawled in counterpoint. He scratched the back of his neck and she stared at the scrape on his forearm. "I know fisticuffs aren't your forte, Ryn, even if you can handle yourself."

Xaeryn gave a soft laugh, even as she looked him over. Scrapes and rope-chafe on his arms, bruise on his forehead, nasty but scabbing split lip. "On that note, thank you for the save."

Red nodded, looking at her with something indecipherable in his eyes. "Of course." The look changed to a playful glint. "Not every day I get to play the hero." He rubbed the back of his head as he watched Briony haul the still-unconscious Heron downstairs. "He had it coming."

"Goose egg for a goose egg?" Xaeryn asked glibly.

He laughed. "Something like that."

They both caught a sharp breath--but tried to hide it--at the realization his thumb was rubbing absent arcs against the heel of her hand.

Xaeryn cleared her throat, painfully aware of Iorwen--Captain Emroth--nearby, surely hearing even if she was pretending to be busy. "I need to take this back while there's a chance of there being someone in the Merchants' Guild offices," she said, giving the case a gentle jostle, "and I understand Captain Emroth needs to speak with you, but if you want to drop by tomorrow we could talk."

Sun above, do we need to talk.

"I'd like that," Red said softly, then gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "Assuming I don't sleep the day away."

"If you do, just come the day after," she shrugged, smiling playfully. "I'll always make time for you."

He gave a soft laugh. "Good to know. But hopefully I'll see you tomorrow."

"Hopefully," Xaeryn confirmed. Her heart pounded as he seemed just as reluctant to let go as she was.

"Make sure you get sleep too, Xaer," Red murmured.

"I promise," she nodded, then gave his hand a final squeeze before letting go, her fingers curling as she strode out of the building and through Ashtown's streets, heading for more civilized districts and ultimately, Merchants' Guild headquarters.

It had been a very long day, and she would be glad to put it behind her. ----

Next chapter for answers and tying up loose ends👀 and I think we're done! :D

#queens fic #shoh #tlbt #xaeryn shrike #red antiqua #briony #iorwen emroth #ryn/red

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queen-scribbles · 1 year

Photo

What’s this? I could make all of my @shepherds-of-haven children in the same picrew? Pinch me, I’m dreaming.😂

Trick, Xaeryn, Yva, Lilley, Min, and Rhyler

#i'm so happy #between trick's burn scar. having TWO hunters with different white streaks. and all the different ''unusual'' hair colors #i can NEVER get them all #sure i had to monkey in paint for my hunter girls #but STILL #it was in the realm of possibilty :D #ft a rare yva with her hair down bc there were no properly voluminous/messy ponytails #trick and min's hair is also more fine/straight but i'll make the sacrifice to give them their sttreaks #they can have a little floof #and i just realized i basically have trick in trouble's shirt xD #what? hers was wet/dirty and his was right there and they're friends so he doesn't mind right trouble?#she is oblivious to the (completely correct) connotations xD bc the gun children are IDIOTS #shepherds of haven #shoh #elyana trick #xaeryn shrike #yva talward #lilley evvs #min song #rhyler garrick

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queen-scribbles · 10 months

Text

The Long Burning Torch ch 7

Big chapter for my @shepherds-of-haven 20s AU, both in terms of length(9k) and plot happenings :3 Enjoy!

---

Xaeryn woke earlier than she’d intended, largely thanks to barking her sore knuckles against the bedframe in her sleep.

She clenched the hand into a fist, instinctively cradling it close to her chest. Red had done a good job tending to it, it was just more sensitive the morning after. As was the way of injuries in her line of work.

But the thought of Red dragged her the rest of the way awake. She ran a hand down her face, fingers slowing as they passed over her lips. No. She wasn’t thinking about that literally first thing in the morning.

Mr. Syndran was coming by. That was where her thoughts should be dwelling; preparation for that meeting. She needed to be focused. Professional.

A yawn cracked her jaw and Xaeryn glanced over at the alarm clock. Almost an hour’s lost sleep. But her mind was already too busy--with thoughts of the day ahead and ones she was trying not to think--for much success at reclaiming that hour.

Wonderful. She groaned as she shoved back the covers and swung her legs down. She headed to the kitchen, made herself tea and toast for breakfast. She knew when Mr. Syndran was coming, it was Red and Pan who were the wild card for her schedule.

They’d promised to come say goodbye before they headed back to Solhadur, but she wasn’t sure when that would be. Pan hadn’t exactly been a willing early riser during their school days, but he could do it when called for. Like wanting to get an early start on a drive.

Best to be prepared, Xaeryn decided. She finished her breakfast swiftly--at least, swiftly as she could with both elbow and hand sore from yesterday’s scuffle--showered, and dressed in trousers and a coordinating blouse. Professional, practical for any legwork she might do later, and didn’t look half bad if she said so herself.

The thoughts she’d been trying to ignore pushed their way in. The gentleness of Red’s hands as he helped her. Her whispered confession of wanting to do something improper. The irritation she’d swear she’d seen in his eyes at Pan’s timing. Tying it all together, the persistent thought:

I almost kissed my best friend--and he looked ready to kiss me back.

They clearly needed to talk. She just wasn’t sure if there would be opportunity today, with Pan here as well.

Xaeryn threw herself into busy work, putting away her evening gown until she could get it cleaned properly, dealing with the dishes from her breakfast, reviewing her notes from the gala. She’d need to speak to Miss Acquell about investigating the portions she’d seen Stormbreaker heading for before she lost her. If she could find the woman’s destination, that might give some clue what she was up to, either physical or scrying.

A knock on the door broke through her thoughts, and Xaeryn’s gaze instinctively went to the clock. Too early for Mr. Syndran.

A nervous flutter passed through her as she stood from her desk and headed for the door. She glanced at Red’s tuxedo jacket, still hanging over the chair, and reached for the knob. It was, as anticipated, him and Pan waiting in the hall.

Red smiled soon as their eyes met. “I knew you’d be up this early.”

“I’m a bit surprised you two are,” she admitted in return, stepping back to let them join her in the office. “Well, more you.” She arched a brow at Pan.

“Trust me, not my first choice,” he said wryly. “But since Red has a class to teach, we wanted an early start.” He smirked. “And I know how you two like to bump gums; figured this way we don’t have to rush goodbyes.”

She chuckled. “You do know us well. It was good to see you, Pan. However briefly. Maybe next time can be longer.”

“Ditto, Xaer.” He held out a hand to shake. “I’ll try to make myself easy to find when you visit next, maybe we can have more of a chance to chin, if you’ve the time.”

“That does sound keen,” Xaeryn said with a smile, shaking his hand. It would be nice to do some more catching up with old friends. “Where’s likely to find you?”

“His office is just down the hall from mine,” Red chipped in.

“But I’m not there much.” Pan shoved his hands in his pockets. “More likely in the gardens trying to impart my wisdom to a new gaggle of students.” He stifled a yawn. “Now, I’m gonna go sit with our stuff and hopefully not fall asleep. Red, remember we do need to be getting on the road soon, hm?”

“I know, I know,” Red said, raking a hand through his hair, something of his usual confidence lacking from the motion.

“See ya ‘round, Ryn,” Pan winked, and ducked out of the office.

Xaeryn’s stomach twisted with nerves at the loss of his presence as a buffer. Did she bring up last night? Would Red? Was it better to pretend it didn’t happen--or, almost happen--in the name of preserving their friendship?

“You, ah, forgot your jacket last night,” she fumbled, stepping over to the chair to retrieve it. The slight increase in distance didn’t help settle her nerves as she’d--somewhat--hoped.

“Yes, I didn’t realize until we were halfway back to the hotel,” Red admitted with a small laugh. “Seemed silly to come back when we were already planning to stop by today.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he crossed the room. “I also figured you’d turn in quickly and didn’t want to disturb you.”

Her pulse jumped at the thought of if they’d come back, of him seeing her in her pajamas and Xaeryn cleared her throat to shoo it away. “I did pretty much fall in bed soon as you two left.” She picked up the jacket, held it out. “It was a draining night.”

“That’s one way to describe it,” he said wryly, taking the jacket. “I still had a good time.” His gaze dropped to her bandaged knuckles. “For the most part, anyway. How’s your hand?”

“Sore,” Xaeryn said. Her fingers instinctively flexed. “A tad stiff. But definitely on the mend.” She brought it up, the other hand rubbing the side of the injured one. “Thank you, again, for helping patch me up. That would’ve been much trickier to handle myself.”

“Oh, ah, you’re welcome.” Red draped the jacket over his arm. “Always happy to help, Xaer, you know that.” He was standing so close, barely an arm’s length away.

She nodded. “And I’m always grateful, and willing to return the favor. But that was... a little outside the wheelhouse, far as things I’ve asked of you.”

He bit his lip, hesitating on a question. His gaze flicked to her hand, her mouth, quickly to the bookshelves, grip tightening on the jacket. “Is that... something you have to do a lot, Ryn? Patch yourself up?”

Xaeryn smiled faintly and sucked the inside of her cheek. She rested a hand on his arm. “Do you really want me to answer that?” I know how you worry.

“I...” Red sighed, met her gaze again. “...do.”

“I wouldn’t call it a lot,” she said, still choosing her words with care, “but occasionally it’s called for.”

“Mm.” He shifted, the motion leaning slightly into her touch.

“It’s usually like this or less serious,” she assured him. “Scrapes, bumps to ice, that sort of thing.” A laugh escaped her. “Some are even self-inflicted due to stubbornness in chasing leads.”

Red chuckled fondly. “Of course they are.” He reached for the injured hand, tugging it close to look over. “Glad this one’s healing, but try to be more careful, Xaer? This case seems like it’s pretty high stakes, and thus high risk.”

Xaeryn nodded, trying not to be distracted by the way his thumb brushed the side of her hand. “It is a bit more... involved than my usual job,” she allowed. “And I don’t do unnecessary risk-”

“Having seen some of what you considered necessary during school, that’s not the comfort you might think,” Red interjected wryly.

She huffed a small laugh and reluctantly withdrew her hand. “My point, Liefred, is that detective work comes with a few more risks than academia, but I know what I’m doing in navigating them.”

“I know.” His gaze ran over her face. “And I trust you, but as your friend” --did his pulse jump in his throat on the word, or was it just a trick of the light?--”I am still going to worry about you. A little.”

“Only a little?” Xaeryn teased.

“I’m trying to be better about it,” he said with an abashed smile, “so it doesn’t get in the way of more important things.”

“A wise plan.” She smiled in return. He’d been a worrywart as long as she’d known him, she wondered how much success he’d have relaxing that facet of his personality.

A sharp knock sounded against her door. They both snapped a gaze toward it, though Xaeryn’s quickly shifted to the clock.

“That’s too awake and impatient to be Pan,” Red joked.

She laughed. “Given the time, I suspect it’s Mr. Syndran. We had an appointment. How lucky you’re still here for introductions.”

“I’ll be on best behavior,” he said, twinkle in his eye as he mimed adjusting a tie he wasn’t wearing and ran his fingers through his hair.

She rolled her eyes and tried to school her expression into something professional on the way to the door. Her guess had been correct. “Good morning, Mr. Syndran.”

“And to you, Miss Shrike.” Mr. Syndran arched a brow at Red. “And your guest.”

“Yes, I didn’t get to introductions last night,” Xaeryn said. “Mr. Riel Syndran, head of Whitestone Couriers; Headmaster Liefred Antiqua of Solhadur Academy in Capra.”

“Ah, yes, I know it.” Mr. Syndran stepped into the office, giving a formal half-bow of greeting. “We’ve handled some artefact deliveries headed there, though nothing recently.”

Red inclined his head in answer to the bow. “Hasn’t been much coming in for study, sadly. We’ve had to content ourselves with teaching and research.”

“Yes, what a struggle for you,” Xaeryn said dryly. “Liefred’s been helping with the historical research for Solimer’s Torch,” she explained to Mr. Syndran.

He cut her a sharp, knowing smile. “So he’s the one who prompted your inquiry about outsourcing?”

She nodded, flashed a smile to Red. “I felt it was smart to use an expert I trust. And his help has been... invaluable.”

“I see.” Mr. Syndran ran a glance over Red; the half-rolled sleeves, wrinkled waistcoat(at least it was buttoned this time), the tuxedo jacket draped over his arm. “And the gentleman trying valiantly not to nod off in the car out front? Is he another outsource?”

“No, he’s my ride,” Red said with a laugh. “And on that note, I should be going. So he doesn’t doze off.”

Frustration flared in Xaeryn’s chest, but she quickly clamped it down. Yes, they needed to talk, but that was a conversation she wasn’t keen to have in front of a client. So she just nodded farewell. “Thank you again for all your help,” she said, flexing her fingers to keep them from stiffening.

Red nodded, bit his lip, and stepped closer to give her a quick hug goodbye. “Anytime, Ryn. And I’ll have that information together by lunch tomorrow for you to come pick up.”

That seemed ambitious, if he had a class today, but if he wasn’t done when she got there, it would be a chance to visit more. “See you then.”

One last dimpled, lingering smile, something unsaid in his deep green eyes, and he was gone.

Mr. Syndran waited until the door clicked shut behind him to fix her with an appraising look. “You truly trust him?”

“Implicitly,” Xaeryn said with a firm nod. “He’s top notch and won’t blab about working on it.”

“He looks too honest by half,” Mr. Syndran muttered, and she couldn’t deny that, but he rolled on before she could comment. “What information is he gathering for you? I’d think you have all the background you need by this point, Miss Shrike.”

“And you’d be correct.” Xaeryn moved behind her desk, gesturing for him to take a seat as she settled in her chair. “My handbag was stolen, and my notes happened to be inside at the time. I copied down what I remember-”

He held up a hand. “Your notes were stolen?”

“My handbag was, yes, and with it my notes. Which are written in personal shorthand, so I wish anyone who might try to read them the best of luck.”

“This is still a distressing development,” Mr. Syndran mused, twirling his walking stick against the floor. “though I do applaud the precaution.”

“It might be, but as I said, I copied down what I remember, and Liefred’s reassembling the historical data he found for me in case it becomes relevant. Nothing about this is slowing down my search.”

“Mm. And you rewarded his efforts by bringing him along to the gala?” he asked archly.

“I needed a plus one to get in,” Xaeryn reminded him just as archly. “It was more asking him for an additional favor. One he didn’t mind granting, given what he got to see. He’s my best friend and helped me a lot. Even if it was a reward, would that be so bad?”

“I simply do not care for you to get distracted from the task for which you were hired.”

She bit the tip of her tongue, forcing down irritation at being lectured like a child. “I assure you, I am still focused, Mr. Syndran. Some mingling and taking in the exhibits between... interviews was called for to avoid drawing attention.”

“And, to the point of this meeting, were those interviews fruitful?” He steepled his fingers over the walking stick as he asked.

“They were, and there’s more besides...” Xaeryn gave him a recap of the chats she’d had with Ms. Aescar and King Kaza, as well as mentioning the odd behavior of the latter’s bodyguard. “My hope for today is to pick up her track, see what she was up to, where she went, if anyone else was there. This ties to her and the king somehow, I just need to find the connection.”

“That does seem likely, but do keep an open mind, Miss Shrike,” Mr. Syndran said, lips pursed.

“Of course, comes with the territory,” she returned. There was something in his look that made her wary, like he was about to suggest a theory she wouldn’t like. But he didn’t, instead nodding toward the battered knuckles she’d been idly rubbing the latter half of the conversation.

“Have to fight someone over the punch bowl, did you?” he asked drolly.

She snorted a laugh. “No, just a bit of excitement on the way home from the gala. I’d had Liefred leave with the car while I was following Stormbreaker, so I had to walk back and was... menaced by a thug for ‘sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong’.” A thin smile. “I handled him. This is just scrapes.”

“I should see the other fellow?” Mr. Syndran said, arching a brow. “A pickpocket and a menacing ruffian in the span of a couple days? Miss Shrike, your neighborhood is not that dangerous.”

“Oh, the latter incident is undoubtedly tied to the case. Means I’m getting close. They’re trying to make me breeze on it, or at least slow me down.” Xaeryn shifted in her chair. “Unfortunately for them, this sort of thing only makes me more determined. And I have some solid angles to follow today so I get even closer.”

Mr. Syndran’s eyes glittered. “Good to hear, Miss Shrike. Whitestone Couriers is eager for a positive resolution to the matter.”

And a rapid one, from how you keep nudging, But he’d made that clear from the start, so she could hardly complain. She’d already missed one deadline--the gala--and wanted to wrap this up quickly herself. “I’m close to giving you one,” she promised.

One side of his mouth twitched as he picked up the subtle hint. “Best of luck in your efforts today, Detective.” He stood, then paused, lips pursed. “You are quite certain no one will read your notes, should they fall in the wrong hands?”

She thought briefly about bringing up she’d had this conversation with Ms. Aerin last night, but that might seem like deflecting. “Yes. I developed it with Liefred in school for faster note-taking and then further altered it when I took up detective work, so I doubt even he could read it anymore.”

(Not entirely true; Red could probably figure it out with a little time, but she didn’t like the suspicion crinkling Mr. Syndran’s brow.)

He seemed satisfied, giving a nod. “Very well, I’ll take you at your word, Miss Shrike. Again, best of luck today.” He inclined his head in farewell and was gone.

Xaeryn blew out a breath and deliberated on the better course of action from her options. She could go back to the museum, see if Miss Acquell would let her in to try and pick up Stormbreaker’s trail. The earlier she got on that lead, the better her odds of it going somewhere. She could also scry on the woman, or on the green-haired man from the alley. That could be fallback, she mused. The museum was the best bet, and staff should be there for the day by now.

She called the direct number the curator had given her, fervently hoping Miss Acquell was in her office rather than roaming the floor.

It was answered--slightly breathless--on the fourth ring. “Shery Acquell’s office.”

“Mis- Shery, it’s Detective Shrike.” Xaeryn glanced at the clock. “I was wondering if I could swing by the museum to follow up a lead or two from last night.”

“Oh, detective.” She gave a frazzled-sounding cough. “Of course. We’re closed to the public today, gala cleanup, but I’ll tell the doorman to keep a watch for you. When do you think you’ll be coming?”

Xaeryn shrugged. “Earlier’s better; does five minutes work? Maybe a little more?” It might be prudent to walk in case she wound up following something away from the museum; she wouldn’t have to return later for her car.

“Certainly. I’ll let them know you’re coming and allowed in.”

“Thank you, Shery.” She hung up, fetched a hat, and was off.

---

The museum, much to her chagrin, did not prove fruitful. She followed the same route as the night before, branched in each direction Stormbreaker could have gone. There were only a half dozen display rooms and they were all undisturbed, no matter how closely she scrutinized. The second hallway, however, did have an exit at the end of it. Stormbreaker could have either stepped out or simply talked to someone without being observed. Security had been mostly focused around the gala. Miss Acquell confirmed nothing was missing and Xaeryn, annoyed, headed back to her office.

Scrying it is, then, she thought, trying not to dwell on the wasted time in the museum.

If she’d just stuck with Stormbreaker instead of getting distracted... but there was nothing to be done about it now other than work with the problem. She just had to decide if it was a surer thing to scry on the green-haired man or Stormbreaker. One she’d only seen in a previous scry, the other was guarding a person likely to have warding or protective sigils.

It only took a few minutes’ deliberation to settle on the green-haired man. It would take some extra effort to scry on someone she’d never met in person, but she’d bumped into protection sigils before. They gave her a monster of a headache. If King Kaza was utilizing those--and he seemed the type--it was a surefire way to make her day worse.

Xaeryn took out the polished bronze disk she used for scrying, set it on the desk, then locked the door and took the phone off the hook to minimize distraction before getting down to business.

A present-day focus was at least easier than trying to see something from the past. Her vision shimmered, the dish clouding over before clearing to reveal a silent, sepia-tone image of the man she sought.

He was walking briskly along a street, the shadow of other pedestrians few but present. The stores her passed were all too blurred to give any clue of his whereabouts. His newsie cap was tugged low but couldn’t quite hide the flash of green hair, the scar on his neck just showing over his shirt collar. He slowed, checked something on a scrap of paper, and ducked into a café.

That she did recognize. It was only a few minutes from her office, she’d lunched there frequently. Xaeryn broke the scry, hurrying to collect handbag and hat. Lucky for her it was lunchtime, so she could snag a peek without drawing too much attention.

As long as her quarry was staying a while, not just meeting someone to head for a secondary location. Hence her haste. She pinned on her hat once more, confirmed the desk was locked, and headed out, careful to lock the office door as well.

----

The weather was nice, so Xaeryn found herself with plenty of company as she walked. She was the one one to step into the café, which was a relief. A glance around the space quickly revealed the man she sought.

Her search was made easier by the fact other patrons appeared to be giving the table a wide berth. The unusual hair colors of the occupants made them stand out as Diminished even more; her quarry’s hat was off, and his companion’s pale pink hair was corralled by a dark red ribbon.

A companion Xaeryn recognized, though she tried to keep that recognition off her face as she took a seat at a relatively close booth. The One-God works in mysterious ways. She was far dressed down from last night, but Green Hair’s emphatic conversational partner was none other than Stormbreaker, King Kaza’s bodyguard. She was also rather agitated about something.

“...no Diviner, whaddya want me to do?” Green Hair muttered.

“He’s only planning to stay in town a few more days, Darius,” Stormbreaker hissed back. “Our window’s closing.”

“That knowledge doesn’t magically give me the ability to track things down,” Darius growled. “I wanna stop him as bad as you, Bry, but-”

They both fell silent as the waitress approached with Xaeryn’s order. She sent up a small prayer they didn’t look too closely at the booth. Stormbreaker at least would recognize her.

Apparently the One-God was feeling kind. After an extra minute or so of silence, their conversation resumed, albeit in more hushed tones. Good job she’d always had keen hearing.

“You don’t have any idea where he would’ve squirreled it away?” Darius asked, so low Xaeryn barely caught it.

“Nothing more than we’ve found. I thought he was gonna keep in at the hotel, where he could have eyes on it. But he’s not, and whatever the details of what he and Jarkyth are doing, they’re playing cards close to the chest.”

Xaeryn’s brows twitched even as she bit into her cucumber sandwich. Assuming ‘he’ was who she thought, not only was there more going on than appeared with Solimer’s Torch, but King Kaza was plotting something with one of the most influential religious and political figures in the known world.

Which presented her with a conundrum-- if King Kaza was involved in the theft but these two weren’t, she should probably talk to them. They could fill in some blanks, maybe point her in the right direction. But if they weren’t on the up and up, she’d be making things worse to show her hand. They could have their own selfish designs on the Torch.

The dilemma was at least partially taken out of her hands even as she turned it over in her mind. “Circe??”

Fortunately, she’d used the alias for a few other cases, and still had the instincts to react to it without too much of an interval. “Hm?” The pause at being pulled from her thoughts wasn’t an affectation in the slightest. “Oh. Stormbreaker, right?”

The woman grimaced slightly. “Only when certain parties are trying to show off. I prefer Briony.” She cocked her head, expression riding the fine line between curiosity and suspicion. “What a coincidence running in to you here.”

“It certainly is,” Xaeryn said with a light laugh. “My office is nearby This is my go-to when I want to step out for lunch.” She held up the uneaten portion of her sandwich as evidence. “And you? Did you find time away from your duties to see some sights today?”

Briony nodded, cheerful smile and hard eyes, her companion gone stone-faced. “A few. Haven’t gotten much time away. His highness doesn’t care to be unprotected for long.”

If her distaste were any more thinly veiled, it would be sheer. Xaeryn’s gut said to gamble, and she listened to it. “Well, I’m glad you managed it, Haven has a lot to offer.” She set down her sandwich. ”I’m also glad I bumped into you; I was hoping to speak when we could be more... open.”

“,,,What about?” Briony asked cautiously.

“There’s a piece I’m trying to track down with possible ties to Elinden. Wouldn’t want King Kaza to think I’m accusing him of involvement in it’s disappearance with no proof, now would I?”

Briony’s eyes narrowed, likely judging, in turn, if this gamble was worth her taking. She gestured for Xaeryn to join their table, shushing her companion when he started to protest. “And what would this piece be?”

“An artefact from the Jalis desert,” said Xaeryn, still measuring her words. It would really put her behind the eight ball if she read this wrong. “I’ve been tracking it on behalf of the proper owner”--Or near enough, she thought to herself--“and signs are starting to point toward Elinden.”

“Is that why you were chattin’ up his highness last night?” Briony asked with a keen look and faint smile playing at her lips.

“More or less, He has previously tried to claim this artefact through legal means and failed. But his is not the only faction on Elinden, either.”

She didn’t miss the look between the two her words prompted.

“So why were you hoping to talk to me?” Briony asked, tracing one finger ‘round the rim of her cup.

“I happened to note your... early exit and couldn’t help wondering if that was related,” Xaeryn said coolly.

“I told you s-!”

“Darius, close your head,” Briony cut him off, squeezing his arm. She looked back at Xaeryn. “I think we should continue this bull session somewhere just a bit more private, don’t you, Circe? If we’re gonna be discussing things like that.”

“Probably a good idea,” Xaeryn agreed.

“You said you have an office nearby?”

“I do.” And that would work nicely. Familiar ground and all. “Though one thing you need to know if we’re moving there... My name is not Circe Blackwood.” She pulled out a business card and slid it across the table. “I’m sure you can understand how aliases might come in handy for my line of work?”

Briony nodded, but Darius still looked suspicious. “I can,” she said. “Shall we?”

The three of them settled up and left the café, Xaeryn carrying the uneaten half of her sandwich wrapped in waxed paper. They were all silent as they walked. She spared only a brief moment to muse over their thoughts before sinking into her own.

They had agreed to go to an unfamiliar location with an unknown actor with surprisingly little fuss, and it made her wonder if they were planning something she needed to worry about. Or maybe Briony had a gut instinct as good as her own. She’d deal with any scenarios that arose accordingly. Her true concern was how much of her hand to show.

When they reached her office, Xaeryn let Briony and Darius examine the room as she settled in her desk chair. After they’d prowled around enough to satisfy themselves it was safe, they sat opposite.

“So,” Xaeryn said with a searching look.

“So,” Briony echoed, holding her gaze steadily.

Apparently the first trust fall was on her. Very well. “I was hired to locate an artefact stolen from the collection on display at the museum and return it to the proper owner. Certain... aspects of what I’ve learned in my search have pointed very firmly toward Elinden So, of course, it was of great curiosity to me, seeing the bodyguard to the current--controversial--king of that island slink away from her charge.”

Briony snorted, ignoring Darius’ uneasy shift in his chair. “Oh, he’s actually quite a brawler. I’m more... flaunted for show and paranoia.” A sharp, bitter smile curved her lips. “He doesn’t really need me, just wants people to think he does.”

“Well, he might want to do something about the number of records describing him as warlord,” Xaeryn said wryly. “That certainly conjures images of ferocity. It’s also not my point. What were you doing?”

“Why should I tell you?” Briony crossed her arms with a shrug. “No offense, Xaeryn, but what reason do I have to trust you?”

“Fair.” Xaeryn steepled her fingers. “Assuming King Kaza is involved in the theft of the relic I’m tracking, I have a feeling you’re also trying to get it away from him. This would, I hope, put us on the same side, and we could work together looking for it.”

Darius scoffed. “Y’want us to trust you, but that’s blazing hard when you won’t even tell us what you’re looking for.”

She grimaced. “My client specifically requested discretion. I’m trying to give you enough while still honoring that-”

“Is it Solimer’s Torch?” Briony blurted. “B’cause that’s what we’re looking to get away from Kaza.”

“Briony!” Darius growled.

“I’m tired of this cat and mouse bunk, D.” She tugged on the ribbon in her hair absently. “If Xaeryn here is an actual snooper” --an emphatic gesture at the sign on Xaeryn’s desk--”she might be luckier’n we’ve been figuring what happened.”

“I am very good at finding things,” Xaeryn promised, tapping her fingers on the desk. “Maybe if you give me what you know, it’ll fill in some blanks that have been tripping me up?”

“Might as well, cat’s outta the bag,” Darius grumbled, running a hand through his hair.

Briony gave his arm a light punch, which made him rock in his chair, before looking back to Xaeryn. “So the Torch is what you’re looking for?”

Xaeryn nodded.

“Well, then, Kaza Ackshin is your man. He timed his visit to Haven to line up with the gala for two reasons; trawling for support of his claim to the throne, and to steal the Torch. Two birds and all that. I dunno everything about how they pulled it off, but he’s involved.”

“You’re quick to throw over your boss,” Xaeryn commented.

“Because he doesn’t deserve what he has,” Briony said fiercely. “And I’ll do what I have to to set that right--even work for the bastard.”

“What she means is, we’re from Dar-elin, the largest rebelling faction,” Darius explained wearily. “We’ve been workin’ to get that muti off the throne since the moment he took it. Outright conflict was dragging, so we switched to infiltration. Stormbreaker here has spent the last two years ingratiating herself so she has better access.”

“Right, that.” Briony waved a hand. “He’s been after the Torch--obsessed, really--since before I started, though. He can trace his ancestry to some Jalis warlord who owned it. Only problem for him is there’s some gaps where he only has a parent or grandparent’s say-so to back him up, no records. So even though he tried the official route, and outright buying it, he didn’t have any luck.”

“So he turned to thievery,” Xaeryn muttered.

Briony gave a grim smile. “He sees it as liberating, he’s that up his own ass about it belonging to him.”

“What good does he think it will do him, to make him so focused?” Xaeryn got out her notepad to start scribbling down at least rough notes.

“Aside from prestige and pride,” Briony snorted. “He’s superstitious enough I think he at least half believes all the applesauce about it bringing good luck or invulnerability and would use it to try and take at least a kingdom’s worth of the desert by force.”

“What, he’s not happy with Elinden’s throne?”

“Warlords never are,” Darius scoffed, and she nodded a concession.

“And I imagine it’s hard to, ah, increase your territory and influence from an island after a certain point,” she said.

“Well, and he knows there’s at least a chance it doesn’t end well for him, fighting three dissenter factions at once,” Briony added. “He still believes the throne is his because he took it, which is why he’s looking for political and financial support to fend us all off. But if he can establish a place of authority elsewhere, he has a fallback in case the ungrateful masses get to be too much for him.”

“So you’re trying to get the Torch away from him.” Xaeryn doodled a ship in the corner of a page.

“It’s two-fold.” Briony curled a loose wisp of pink hair around her finger and tugged on it. “It’ll mess up his plans, makes it harder to establish himself in Jalis if he’s a random power-hungry outsider. Gods know they have enough warlords of their own without adding a new one.” She caught Xaeryn’s eye and held her gaze as she continued. “And we want the Torch back with its owner, since from what I understand she has a solid claim to it.”

“Well established and documented, yes,” Xaeryn nodded, thinking back to her conversation with Miss Acquell about the provenance. “There’s also... a sentimental connection.” She tapped her pencil against her notepad. “I’m a bit surprised someone from a place as... insular as Elinden has the pull to hire competent thieves or deploy his own in any city on the mainland, but especially a hub city like Haven, with no connections.”

“Who said he doesn’t have connections, doll?” Darius smirked.

“Are you saying he did, despite never leaving Elinden? And it’s Miss Shrike. Or Xaeryn, if you really must.” She would grit her teeth through being addressed as doll by random shop- or barkeeps who didn’t know her name, but not a potential ally.

Darius’ brows arched, but he gave a nod of understanding.

Briony, however, was the one to answer her question. “Talquist Jarkyth.”

“The Western Hierophant?” Xaeryn’s stomach rebelled at the thought of one of the most prominent members of the church being involved, but he did dabble in business and politics, and she had seen King Kaza talking to him at the gala.... “He’s not local, either,” she protested, “He’s based in... Heth Macoll, I believe. He might be powerful there, but-”

“He travels. He’s been in Haven four months,” Briony cut her off. “Attending to business and avoiding the home climates. And d’you really think someone like him didn’t find at least a couple hoods to do his dirty work while he’s here?”

Someone like... The phrasing, and vehemence with which Briony uttered it, made something click for Xaeryn. “Are you saying you believe the scuttlebutt about him being a Faceless Lord?”

“It’s not just rumors and hokum, Xaeryn.” Briony let go of the hair she’d been twisting to lean forward. “Some of it, as we’ve recently found, is very, very true.”

Well, that was news she hadn’t been expecting--and had trouble believing. The Faceless Lords were grown-up bogeymen; powerful leaders in every sphere of influence--political, religious, cultural--manipulating events across Blest for their own ends and profit. Anyone with at least a decent amount of influence or wealth was accused of membership at some point.

Xaeryn had always felt the ‘cabal trying to control the world’ concept was an exaggeration, a flight of fancy, an excuse. But if Briony was truthful and correct, she’d been very wrong. It was a lot to wrap her head around.

“Assuming... assuming I take you at your word,” she said slowly, “why would Jarkyth be helping King Kaza? I can’t imagine there’s anything in Elinden he’d want to exploit.” She grimaced at how that sounded the second it left her mouth, no matter how true it was. Forthright, huh, Red?

“There’s not,” Briony said with a shrug. “Jalis, however... He looking to establish trade in the region with some of the larger settlements. There’s lots of... specialty goods you can only get from Jalis, and they aren’t cheap, thanks to the difficulty acquiring them. Jarkyth probably thinks if he helps Ackshin get this secondary kingdom running, he’ll have an in for trade with almost no competition.”

“So he’s, what, financing the theft of an artefact as a... business decision?” Her thoughts went to Chase commenting how the ‘butter and egg man’ for a Thieves Guild job on the same caravan had breezed. An interesting coincidence, if it was one.

“Would hardly be the worst thing his blessedness has done, if half of what we’ve heard is true,” Darius said gruffly. “Long as he thinks it’s profitable, in one sense or another. Quite the businessman, he.”

“So, what about you two, then?” Xaeryn asked, partly to change the subject, partly because she was actually curious. “What makes you care so much about the artefact, and what part have you played here in Haven?”

“I’m really tempted to say that would be telling,” Briony laughed. “But there’s something about you I like, and I’m keen on the idea of working together, so. Building trust.” She wiggled a little to settle more comfortably in her chair. “It might seem to make more sense, chasing Kaza off Elinden and saying good plan, go build your sandcastle. But. Who’s to say he wouldn’t either set up in Jalis, build an army, and come after Elinden again, or muff it hard, and crawl back to ‘his’ throne in an even fouler temper? We want him stuck with us, so he can’t tuck tail when we win, and has to face justice.” She grinned fiercely. “B’sides, the Torch isn’t his. Isn’t right to let him keep it.”

“As to the second part...” Darius ran his fingers through his hair, reluctantly accepting this alliance, though it was clear he still had doubts. “I came over early, ahead of the scheduled arrival. Briony was stuck coming with his highness, of course, but that would’ve been too late to be any good, and I’m a known rebel besides. That muti so much as saw us make eye contact the whole game would be up. He’s that paranoid.

“So I scouted ahead with a few others, cased the museum, figured out likely approaches for the caravan when it arrived, and we hammered out a plan or three for keeping thefts at bay til it was safe inside.” He snorted softly. “Only, turned out the schedule we’d found was bogus. False trail. Caravan showed up a day earlier than we thought. Had to hustle to the service entry to keep an eye out. The others posted themselves along different routes, ‘long with a few local street kids we’d been paying for gossip. I asked ‘em after ,and no one saw anything.”

“Nothing?” Xaeryn frowned.

“Nothing.” He gave a sardonic smile as he picked red paint from under his nails. “I was planning to mark the truck we’d been told held the Torch, so I wouldn’t lose it in the shuffle, could keep an eye ‘til it was safe inside. But some hobo started yellin’ ‘bout me bein’ in his alley and rushed me with a blazin’ knife. By the time I’d thrown him off, I’d missed my chance with the truck and a couple of the guards were startin’ to look our way with the ruckus. So I dusted out and hoped for the best. Next time I talked to Briony, she said Ackshin was struttin’ like a peacock over getting his prize, knew we’d failed to keep it away from him. Now we’re shifted to getting it away from him.”

“And not having much luck, though we are on the trail of where he might’ve hidden it,” Briony added wryly.

“So your sneaking off at the gala was...?” Xaeryn prompted, wanting to be sure her original query got answered.

“Part searching display rooms, part checking in with Darius,” Briony said. “We wanted to be sure the Torch wasn’t just stashed somewhere inside the museum.”

“Mm.” She could see the wisdom in that. Xaeryn chewed the inside of her cheek, fingers inching closer to the desk drawer as she debated the wisdom of her next move. In the name of building bridges she went with it. She turned to Darius. “You say this bum in the alley charged you with a knife?”

He nodded. “Just a little one, but it still threw me he was so... fierce about it. Tried to wrestle it from him but couldn’t manage.”

“So you didn’t have a weapon of your own?” Xaeryn pressed.

“Peashooter in m’boot, but I couldn’t get it before he was on me, an’ didn’t want the attention, anyhow.”

“So this isn’t yours?” She withdrew the sheath from the drawer and set it on her desk.

“Hael, no,” Darius scowled, shaking his head. “Got Ackshin’s seal on it and everything.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “Where’d you get it, snooper?”

Briony cut him a warning look, which he ignored. Xaeryn was unfazed; she’d dealt with worse. “The alley behind the museum,” she said coolly. “It was dropped in your scuffle, gave me something of a lead. If it’s not yours, and this ‘bum’ had a knife, I’d imagine it belonged to him.”

She watched the fire flash in his eyes as he connected that his opponent, who distracted him from watching the caravan at a crucial moment, likely worked for Kaza Ackshin.

“That rat bastard,” he growled. “Muti.” He rubbed the scar on his neck before focusing in on Xaeryn again. “How do you know what it’s from, anyway, Miss Detective?”

“I scryed,” Xaeryn said. “Saw what happened. Unfortunately Seer is not my main focus for this talent, so-”

“You’re a blazing Diviner?! Why don’t you just spy on the damn Torch and save us all a load of trouble?!”

Xaeryn sat a little stiffer, a little straighter, at his tone. “It’s scry, and don’t you think I tried?! Divining is a valuable skill as a snooper.” She pursed her lips. “Attempting to scry on the Torch, however, nets me only... dead air.” It was the best comparison she could think to make. “I don’t know what’s keeping me out; maybe they have some sort of protection.”

“Sigils or wards like that are tricky, aren’t they?” Briony asked with a frown.

“They are. It takes a very skilled Binder to lay and maintain something like that, and it wouldn’t be cheap.” But they were talking about a king and the Western Hierophant(supposedly a ‘Faceless Lord’ of immense influence), surely between them they had the resources. “Had you found any clue where they might be storing it until King Kaza leaves? I assume he’ll take it with him?”

Briony nodded. “That is the plan, far as we know. And we have a few leads, but nothing definite. We think they’re in Ashtown, but there’s a lot of people hiding things there,” she said with a laugh. “So we’re having trouble narrowing it down, and there’s the time limit. And since his highness isn’t personally involved, there’s no reason for his bodyguard to pry for details.”

“He’s not personally involved?” Xaeryn echoed, brow furrowing.

“He saw it once, on arrival, to confirm they nicked the right thing, but otherwise doesn’t want to rouse suspicion by constantly checking on it. He might be a tyrannical bastard, but he’s smart,” Briony said grimly.

“So, then, best way to proceed?” Xaeryn asked, mentally sorting all the new information. “Should we continue separately and check in with developments? Or arrange somewhere to meet and work together?”

“I like the first one better,” Darius muttered. “Lets us spread out more and won’t raise high and mighty suspicions.”

“Agreed.” Briony nodded. “And it’s probably better if you talk to Darius if you find anything; since King Kaza’s met you, it might raise eyebrows if Circe is seen chatting up his bodyguard.”

“Good point,” Xaeryn said. Darius looked less pleased with this arrangement, but still nodded. “Where can I reach you?”

He hesitated. “The Quarssen. Leave a message for Mr. Thrace.”

She nodded. “I’d further suggest, since I imagine the king will be heading home soon? that if we haven’t heard anything either way by... three tomorrow afternoon we meet at either the same café or the curiosities shop across the street, Chandry’s. Either makes a good cover for a meeting.”

She’d done so before, a few times, for clients who didn’t want to be seen visiting a detective’s office repeatedly.

“Works for me,” Briony nodded. “Long as I can get away from his highness again.”

“Fine with me as well,” Darius said, pushing out of his chair and tugging on his cap. “But we should get back to it, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Briony stood as well, flashing Xaeryn a smile. “Glad to make a friend in this, at least. And he’ll warm up,” she whispered, nodding toward Darius. “He just has some hard-learned trust issues.”

“I understand.” Frankly, Xaeryn didn’t cared if the man kept her at arm’s length as long as he didn’t dig in his heels about working together. “Best of luck to you, and I’ll see what I can find.”

“Thanks,” Briony said brightly. “Good luck to you, too.” And she darted after Darius, already walking down the hall.

Xaeryn could hear them talking as they walked, but didn’t bother trying to eavesdrop.

She had a lot of new notes to transcribe.

---

Writing everything down took a while, even using shorthand, but Xaeryn was determined to include all that she’d learned. Even the... disquieting fact the Faceless Lords might be real and not the conspiratorial scapegoat she’d always thought. Election didn’t go the way you wanted? Don’t think someone deserves the position they were given? Easiest to blame some group of anonymous, hidden, and powerful string-pullers. But if what Briony and Darius relayed was correct, this conspiracy, at least, was true. And she did have to admit, of all the various bogeymen she’d heard of in the course of her life, this one was the closest to being plausible.

Xaeryn still sighed as she scribbled a note about it. She knew keeping an open mind was important, but she didn’t think she’d have to keep it this open. What was next, banshees were real, too?

The clock showed early afternoon by the time she was done. Events had been as worthwhile as they were time-consuming, however, so she didn’t mind terribly. With the time left in the day, maybe she could fit a visit to Ashtown; see if Thieves Guild had noticed anyone using a warehouse they shouldn’t be. Given Briony and Darius’s suspicions in that direction, maybe she’d even ask if they could keep an eye out.

What would that cost me, I wonder? she thought wryly, before pinning on a hat and heading for the gates between city circles.

---

It was, for obvious reasons, not that easy to dance in and speak to Chase Trinaeste, even if you had left a favorable previous impression. Xaeryn had to talk her way past two layers of brunos, and even then got stonewalled by the lieutenant she’d met before.

“Chase isn’t here,” Ari said, arms crossed and chin jutting forward slightly. “So you can just scram, Miss Private Dick.”

Xaeryn sighed. She didn’t entirely believe the claim of Chase’s absence, but either way, “I’m not after Thieves Guild, I’m after someone else who might be mucking around in your territory. You’d likely know as well as Chase.” She explained what she was looking for.

Ari cocked her head and thought for a long moment before gesturing negative. “Ain’t seen anything like that.” She grinned wolfishly. “Twenty deucalions a day, we can keep our eyes peeled.”

“Ten,” Xaeryn countered, crossing her arms as well.

“Fifteen, and not a danar less,” Ari said, finality in her voice.

“Deal.” It was an expense she could at least partially claim on her bill to Whitestone Couriers, and it was worth it when they were so close and on a deadline.

“Pleasure doin’ business,” Ari said, looking pointedly toward the door.

“I’ll check in tomorrow with coin for both then and today,” Xaeryn said as she took the hint. There were a few other, minor leads she could check this afternoon.

She made her way back out of Ashtown--safely once again, despite hearing Red’s voice fretting in the back of her mind.

The other leads didn’t pan out too much, though a little probing at the right sources did confirm what Briony said about Jarkyth and King Kaza. Satisfied with the day’s work, Xaeryn headed home for the night. Tomorrow she’d check in with Thieves Guild before she went to Capra, then her new Elinden acquaintances when she got home. And maybe seeing all the historical information together would jog something.

Or maybe Red will find something new in the process off compiling this, she mused fondly as she settled into bed. He did have a knack for honing in on books that had just what he needed for whatever he was currently researching. It was a talent she’d envied in school and was grateful for now. She drifted off with a smile on her lips. The mental image of Red, tousle-haired and surrounded by books, was a very pleasant last thought for the day.

---

Xaeryn woke in a fine mood, and stuck to her plan for the morning--though she did have to talk herself out of the outfit part of her wanted to wear(a golden yellow dress with red and navy embroidery) in favor of a much plainer grey blouse and deep green skirt. Best to not stand out on her visit to Ashtown.

The Thieves Guild report was about what she’d expected; they’d seen a bit of “unsanctioned” activity at a few warehouses, but none of it stood out as particularly furtive or foreign. Promising to check again later, Xaeryn backtracked to retrieve her car and start for Capra.

Leaving now, if she made good time, she’d get there before lunch. But she could always bump gums with Pan or stroll the grounds if Red wasn’t ready for her yet. She suspected he knew she liked having the excuse to visit, and that was why he hadn’t offered to bring the information to her. After all, he knew where she lived now, Traveling would be much safer and faster.

She hoped, after he passed off the research, they had a chance for a private chat. They really needed to discuss the night of the gala, what--if anything--it meant for their relationship. He valued her forthrightness, maybe it was time to show some in regards to him, she mused, then snorted softly as she steered around a curve.

If only it was that simple.

Xaeryn sighed and shook of the whirling thoughts as she pulled on to Solhadur’s grounds. Business first, then personal matters. If for no other reason than to help it not distract her at such a crucial point. By all accounts there was less than a sennight before King Kaza headed home, and he would undoubtedly take the Torch with him. She only had a few small losses on her professional record, and no desire to add one this large to the ledger.

She bypassed the desk as she headed inside; the girl was deep in conversation with a security man, and she didn’t want to wait through their chat or be a distraction.

She was a quarter of the way up the stairs when her passage registered and she heard the receptionist’s “Wait-!”

A few steps further when she noted the additional security personnel at the top. Someone must have pulled another prank; the headmaster’s hall was a favorite site for the bolder jokesters. Xaeryn was torn between amusement the tradition held string and annoyance at it delaying her meeting with Red.

Halfway up, one of the security men noticed her and headed down, a hand outstretched. “Miss, you can’t come up here.”

“I have an appointment-” Xaeryn began, still walking.

The guard cut her off. “You need to wait downstairs.”

“It’s alright, Kellan,” a familiar voice floated down before she could protest further, “you can let her by.”

Kellan frowned, looking back up the stairs. “You sure, sir?”

“Yeah, she’s fine,” Pan said, gesturing for Xaeryn to join him. “I’ll talk to her.”

Kellan stepped aside with an uncertain shrug, and she moved past him to join Pan. There was no evidence of a prank, and it made something odd pulse in her chest.

“What’s all this?” she asked, indicating the goings-on with a swivel of her wrist.

Pan sighed. “I tried to call, but guess you’d left already...” He rubbed the back of his neck, then met her eye with a sympathetic smile. “Xaer, Red’s gone.”

The words hit but didn’t fully sink in. “What?!” she blurted, “What d’you mean gone?” We had a meeting. “He wouldn’t just leave.”

“You’re right,” he said, green eyes more serious than Xaeryn could remember ever seeing them. “He wouldn’t.”

Her fingers curled, digging into her handbag. “Panrachus, what are you saying?”

The odd pulse had turned into something foreboding.

“What I’m saying, Xaeryn, is it looks like Red was kidnapped.”

#queens fic #tlbt #shoh #I'M SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER #an also cacking a little ngl <3 #xaeryn shrike #red antiqua #ryn/red

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queen-scribbles · 6 months

Text

The Long Burning Torch ch 8

Alright, here we go, continuing what might be (rip) the longest day of Xaeryn's life for my @shepherds-of-haven 20's AU. (And a big thanks to @emeraldgreaves for code diving for me again <3)

Wordcount: 8,350~

---

Xaeryn's knee-jerk instinct was to correct 'abducted, not kidnapped'. As if that made a lick of difference to the fact Red was gone because someone had taken him.

Closely on its heels came Sun above, this is my fault. It wasn't as if Red was involved with anything else that had even a sliver of a chance to put him in danger; it had to be the research he was doing for her, or something else related to the case.

She shook off both thoughts and made herself focus. Panic wouldn't help Red. Her detective skills might. Would. "Could I see his office?"

Pan gave her a concerned look--probably heard the slight break in her voice. "Xaer, are you...?"

"Crying about it won't find him any faster," she said brusquely, squaring her shoulders. "But if those responsible" --for abducting him--"left any clues, especially if there's something I could use to help scrying..."

He nodded, an understanding gleam in his eye. "I think security's done and didn't find anything to make them suspicious, but you deal with this sort of thing more than they do, so if you wanna take a gander..."

He gestured toward the office, then followed a pace or two behind her, hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers. He didn't say anything and let her take in the scene.

It looked the same, roughly, as the last time she'd visited, just sans one tall, charming headmaster to greet her with an easy smile and warm green eyes. It almost offended her that Red's office looked the same without him in it, which was silly.

But it looked the same. There were no signs of a struggle or a fight.

Xaeryn traced a finger along the edge of the desk, smiling slightly at the trio of books half on top of each other, the stack of six more haphazard next to the chair, the charcoal grey suit jacket hanging off one corner of the chairback. It was the sort of space she could guess belonged to Red Antiqua without ever seeing him in it.

The books open on the desk were familiar ones; Jalis desert tribes, pre-Castigation artefacts. The research he'd offered to recompile for her. She stared at the desk and chairs for a long moment.

"... a girl does need a job eventually, and I’ve always loved a good mystery.”

“Or even a bad one..."

She didn't like how hard it was to focus on the task at hand; she was behind the eight ball enough without getting distracted by their bull sessions here over the past sennight--

She straightened.

"Ryn? You need to leave?" Pan asked.

Xaeryn shook her head. "I'm fine," she said, voice steady. "There are books on the chairs."

"Yeah, that's Red for you." Pan shot her a questioning look. "You know the man's borderline incapable of putting away books he 'might need later', even if later turns out to be two months down the road."

She couldn't help a small laugh. "No, I do know that. The books are still on the chairs. Whoever took him didn't try to be chummy and draw out their visit. When he has company that's staying, he moves the books so they have somewhere to sit. So this was quick in and out, no signs of struggle, and they didn't try to play coy. This was a mission."

God help her, it was hard to stay and sound detached about this.

"Well, night watchman says he didn't hear or see anything odd and he's always been honest and faithful in doing his rounds. He does stay on the first floor, though, as there's no other access to up here than the lobby, and there's another watchman outside." Pan crossed his arms, looking thoughtfully around the office. "So either they knew his schedule, got blazing lucky, or... didn't come through downstairs."

"If they didn't come through downstairs, maybe they had a Traveler," Xaeryn mused. "But it would be a gamble to translocate into an unfamiliar space as small as an office." She frowned.

"Maybe they just scaled the outside of the building," Pan suggested. "Wouldn't take more than an hour of waiting to gauge the outside watchman's rounds."

"And figuring out which window would be unlocked?" Xaeryn countered, just to see how far they could follow this possibility.

Pan's eyes narrowed, and he swore under his breath before darting down the hall. She arched a brow at the abrupt departure and resumed examining the room until he returned.

"The corner office," he said, scowling. "It's unoccupied right now, so we use it when we need a break. Sela's always smoking charch in there, and then Bart opens the window to get the smell out but he never remembers to close it all the way. And if the door's mostly shut, you wouldn't see it from the hall. Hael."

"Even if we accept that theory for how they got in, how would they make a clean sneak with Red?" she pointed out. "He'd either be struggling or..." she wrinkled her nose at the phrasing even as she said it. "...dead weight."

Pan ran a hand through his hair, rubbed the back of his neck, and eventually shook his head. "Search me."

Xaeryn mulled it over for a bit, looking at the other books on Red's desk, smiling at the scraps of paper sticking out to mark pages. "What if... both idea are right? They came in through the window, but translocated out? Their hideout would be a familiar destination, thus safe to Travel to. It's an effective way to get an... unwilling or unconscious companion somewhere without much fuss."

"That means there probably were only one or two of them..." Pan sighed, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. "I offered to help him. With getting things together for you. I already know some of the details and I can keep my mouth shut. He said it was fine; this sort of thing is fun. B'sides, it wasn't like he minded doing it for you--"

Her heart squeezed. "He said that?"

"No, but, Xaer" --Pan arched a brow at her-- "I know both of you well enough to read between the lines."

She couldn't argue that. "How many times do I have to remind you you can call me Red?"

"Anyway, if I'd stayed, and there were only a couple of these toughs, maybe... maybe it would be an attempted kidnapping."

Xaeryn shook her head. "Depends how badly they wanted him." Her conversation with Briony and Darius was too fresh in her mind. "You might also be hurt or dead, and that's the last thing he'd want. Or that I want."

"Good point." He sucked the inside of his cheek. "Why would someone want Red that badly, Xaeryn? Is this... because of your case?"

"I think so." She winced. "I just don't know what part of his involvement would make him an appealing target." She hugged her arms in close against her chest. "If it was something specific or just because we were seen together and the people I'm after thought taking him would... hurt me."

They weren't wrong.

"I don't want to know all of what's going on, Ryn," Pan sighed, "but if that's the case, these sound like some pretty nasty brunos to mess with."

"They are." No point sugarcoating it.

Pan didn't reply, just leaned against the wall sucking his teeth as he watched her.

Xaeryn circled the desk again, hoping desperately for something that would be a clue or--

A curling corner of notebook paper peeked out from under one of the open books on the desk. She shifted the tomes aside and found a whole sheaf, covered front and back in sprawling notes. He'd even written in their shorthand, which made a small smile tug her lips despite the circumstances.

"He got a lot down," she muttered under her breath, the familiar shorthand making something twist in her chest. I hope you're okay.

"Yeah, I think he foisted his class on someone else so he could just work on this all day." Pan pushed off the wall and approached. "Not a shocking twist."

Xaeryn looked up from the paper, brow furrowed but didn't rise to the bait.

Pan, however, was undeterred. He sat back on the edge of the desk, giving her a skeptical look. "You two have always been thick as thieves, but it made him a special kind of dizzy to have you come waltzing back into our lives, y'know."

The twist in her chest went tighter. "I didn't know, actually. But it's always wonderful to reunite with old friends."

"Uh-huh. Old friends." Pan studied his nails a moment, then looked back at her with brows arched. "And what happened between you old friends the night of the gala to make him not say a gods-blessed word the whole way back to the hotel?"

Her fingers tightened, crinkling the paper. "That doesn't seem like a relevant line of inquiry, Panrachus," she said, gaze fixed on the page before her.

"It is to me," he countered with a knowing smile. "Maybe something in there relates to why he got nabbed."

She didn't like that thought. Even more than she disliked Pan's prying. "Nothing happened at the gala."

"And after?" Pan asked pointedly.

"...I might do something dreadfully improper."

"Also nothing." It came out sharper than intended. Thanks to your timing. Xaeryn cleared her throat. "Beyond what you already knew; I got jumped on my way back and Red helped patch up the result of defending myself." She waved the bandaged hand as proof. "I'm glad he was there; it would've been a nightmare to do alone."

"Mm-hm."

She shot him a narrow-eyed look. "Why do I feel like you don't believe me?"

"I dunno." Pan gave her a look that spoke volumes. "Do you feel like part of it shouldn't be believed?"

She looked him dead in the eye. "Nothing. Happened."

"Alright, I believe you," he shrugged. A beat. "Did you want it to?"

The whole messy torrent of emotions she been damming up since that night surged in her chest. God help me, yes.

She was saved from a moment of naked vulnerability by something gleaming on the desk, down among the books and paper. She dug for it and came up with an earring, amber bead transfixed on a small gold hoop.

"Hello there," she murmured, cradling the jewelry in her palm. "Last I checked, Red wasn't one for earrings."

Pan shook his head. "And he's the only one who's been in this office since we got back from Haven..."

There was always the chance it came from a student who'd visited prior to that, but it was the only lead she'd found. Xaeryn did not want to dwell on what she'd do it it was a dead end. If it was her fault he'd been abducted, the least she could do was save him, too.

No time like the present, she told herself, and with a deep breath sat in Red's chair. Part of her would rather have her full focus for a scry, but she didn't want to wait the two hours it would take to drive home. There was a driving, itching need to do something now. She pulled out the small bronze dish from her handbag. Scrying with so small a focus would give her a fearsome headache, but she didn't care if it let her find Red.

Pan watched from the other side of the desk, lapsed into anxious silence.

Alright, you bastard. Her hand curled around the earring. Where are you?

Scrying on the present was like sticking her head in a shallow pond to see what was on the bottom--blurry or shadowed at the edges, but she could pick up the detail she was after.

This time, however, was like trying to dive into a frozen lake.

She could see the potential for a vision, but slammed into something that blocked her from reaching it. Dead air.

Xaeryn broke the attempted scry, heedless of the dull ache starting at her temples. "No, no, no..." she mumbled, looking around the room.

"Xaer?"

"It didn't work," she said sharply. At least that confirmed the earring didn't come from a random Solhadur student, but that wasn't worth beans if she couldn't use it to find him.

Her gaze lighted on the jacket hanging off his chair and she seized it, fingers curling in the charcoal grey fabric as the smell of dusty books and his cologne filled her nose. She stared fiercely at the scrying focus, daring it not to work.

Dead air, again.

Her heart lodged in her throat and she tried to push it back down. Think this through logically, Xaeryn. It can't be coincidence, this implies it is indeed the people who have the Torch--Kaza and his allies--who took Red. They clearly have a VERY good Binder laying wards. Maybe Neon would know something; Pan said he's working in Haven now, I could ask--

"-ryn." From Pan's tone he'd repeated her name a few times at this point.

"I can't see him, either," she admitted, numb at having to say the words aloud.

"So... what next, then?"

What, indeed. There had to be something else. Something she could do, someone she could talk to. She couldn't be powerless, not now, not for this. She fought the desperation tightening her chest. Calm. Panic will only cloud your mind, and how will you help if you aren't thinking straight? It took a few moments of sitting in silence, absently rubbing the fabric of Red's jacket between her fingers as she forced herself to follow her advice.

"Well," she finally began, "given I got the same result attempting to look for Liefred or the earring's owner as I do for Solimer's Torch, it's likely they're together. It's the only times I've had this happen when I scry, so I feel it's a logical assumption. I have Thieves Guild in Haven keeping an eye out for unusual activity in Ashtown--the most likely hiding place for these hooligans. I can see if they noticed anything since I last spoke to them. Having a..." Hostage? prisoner? "...person to stash in the same building might've stirred some some activity."

"All the way back in Haven?!"

"That is where my prime suspect currently resides," she pointed out. "And I have an appointment with a pair likewise working against him; maybe they saw something helpful if the Guild didn't."

Pan sucked his teeth a moment, then cracked a small, wry smile. "Red would have a heart attack if he knew you'd made a deal with a Thieves Guild."

"He can fuss over my choices til he's blue in the face, long as it means he's safe," she retorted, pushing to her feet. "I'll ring with updates, do you have a direct number?" She scribbled it sideways up Red's notes as Pan rattled it off, collected her scrying focus to tuck that and the earring in her handbag. Maybe later she'd have better results than just a headache.

"Maybe I should come with you. Just back to Haven."

Xaeryn shook her head, resting a hand on Pan's arm. "Just in case the security teams figure something important, if you're here you can pass it along."

His expression said he saw through the excuse to keep him somewhere safe, but he nodded. "Fine."

"I'll be in touch," Xaeryn promised. She hesitated to return the suit jacket. "Do you think he'd mind if I keep this? To try again later."

"Not a drop," Pan said, shaking his head. "Find him, Xaer. And be safe, huh? I don't want to lose one friend, let alone two."

She nodded, not pointing out those request may well turn out mutually exclusive, and headed for her car.

---

Her head was awhirl the whole drive home, but she didn't have time to puzzle it out--or speak to Thieves Guild--when she got back. She was cutting it close on making her meeting with Briony and Darius. One-God willing, they'd know something that would help tie King Kaza to Red's abduction, or at least gotten something pointing to where he had stashed the Torch.

Xaeryn parked, made a brief visit to her office to lock the notes and earring in her desk, and headed briskly for the meeting. She turned the corner just in time to catch a flash of green hair as Darius ducked into the curiosities shop.

While smart not to visit the café so soon, especially since he and Briony rather stood out as customers, it made Xaeryn wish she'd warned them of the shop proprietor's eccentricities. Chandry was harmless but... off-putting to some, and Darius didn't seem the type to handle off-putting well.

But she had bigger concerns now. Xaeryn took a deep breath as she pulled open the door, but there was only so much her nerves were willing to ease.

Darius wasn't immediately visible when she entered, but he found her quickly enough. "You look riled, miss lady detective."

Xaeryn flashed a flat look for his tone. "It's warranted. Where's Briony?"

He craned his neck to look around the store. "Either on her way, or I guess she couldn't breeze on his majesty." His eyes narrowed. "You don't look happy 'bout that. What's tricks?"

She looked down, pretending to browse the curiosities on offer. "A friend of mine was abducted. I'm of a mind it's connected to our... suspect; this friend was helping me with research on the Torch."

Darius frowned, playing with a dinged up first aid kit. "That's the only connection?"

"I don't need anything else," Xaeryn hissed. She dropped the charch pipe she hadn't really been looking at. "He's a professor, for Heaven's sake! The only thing remotely dangerous he's tied to is this!" She gestured between them. "I wanted to ask Briony if she'd noticed anything in King Kaza''s behavior or visitors that might help me narrow down when he was... taken."

"We need to find the Torch," he growled in an undertone, "not your sweetheart."

"Friend," Xaeryn corrected tartly--and far too quickly, even she heard it.

"Can I help you find anything?" Chandry's arrival had been so quiet it made Darius flinch, whatever remark he was about to make lost in staring at the garishly made up--or painted, Xaeryn had never decided which side of the line it occupied--face of the shop's owner and namesake.

"Not today, Chandry," she said with a small shake of her head. "Just browsing."

"In that case... make sure you look at the new arrivals," Chandry said, patting the rolled up rugs on a nearby table. "And, smart as you are, maybe you can help me with something." He leaned forward, elbows braced on the topmost rug.

It was the fastest way to get their relative privacy back, and he had saved her from a rather embarrassing turn of conversation, so Xaeryn indulged him. "Oh?"

Chandry grinned. "I've been having a wonder this morning. Which streets," he began conspiratorially, " would have the most ghosts on them, do you think?"

Xaeryn pretended to mull it over, though the answer was obvious, even tapping her finger to her chin dramatically. "I guess it would be... dead ends?"

He all but clapped in his enthusiasm. "Correct!" A flourishing bow. "I shall leave you to your shopping." He bounded off.

"Took long enough," Darius grumbled.

"Chandry's not so bad," Xaeryn said defensively. "You just need to know how to talk to him." There are benefits to being on his good side. But they were here for a purpose. "Back to the matter at hand, I am aware of your deadline; I'm fairly sure my friend's being held in the same place as the Torch."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I can't scry on him, either!" She bit her lip. "It's the same dead air feeling as trying to do so with the Torch, and it's something I've never encountered before, so it seems a logical conclusion."

"Hm," Darius grunted. "Y'know, if Jarkyth sent the brunos who grabbed your friend, there might not be anything to glean from Ackshin."

"I thought about that. D'you know if either of them employ Diminished? Aside from Briony."

"A few, I think," he shrugged, "but you'd have to ask Bry for specifics. What about your friend; he a Mage? Put up a fight?"

"He is, but his specialization is Conjuring, translocation, not combat."

"If he's a Traveler, why-"

Xaeryn held up a finger to cut him off. "I'm trying not to think about that. None of the answers that spring to mind are pleasant, especially in relation to my best friend."

Something glittered in Darius' eyes but he didn't pursue the thought. "Didja learn anything new before you got distracted?"

She had to grit her teeth not to snap Red being abducted wasn't a distraction. Instead of giving him the satisfaction of getting under her skin, she relayed her deal with Thieves Guild and plan to talk to them when this appointment was done. "And you? Did your behind the scenes snooping turn up anything?"

"Yes and no." Darius did a double take at a fishbowl--complete with fish--before pulling himself back to the conversation. "I tailed one of Ackshin's toughs, all the way to blazin' Ashtown, but she gave me the slip." He scowled. "Felt like we were close to where she was goin', too."

Xaeryn stiffened. "What part of Ashtown was this in? I can have the Guild look more closely."

"South-eastern, I guess I'd call it," Darius said after a moment. "Almost plastered against the outer wall."

It made sense for them to be away from the main drag, though she wouldn't have expected quite that far. Unless they knew of some way out through or under the walls.... For now the important thing was having a smaller area for search.

"Alright," she murmured, half to herself, "I can work with that, provided the Guild will play ball."

"Don't suppose you have anything more actionable for me, miss snooper?" Darius interrupted her train of thought.

Xaeryn grimaced and shook her head. "No, just the deal with Thieves Guild. I'm afraid I've been a bit preoccupied by the abduction today. So unless them making a bolder move helps you in some way, I don't."

He grunted and glared at a table of kitchen paraphernalia. "Gods damn this twisted up kn-"

The door jangled forcefully as it swung open to admit a new arrival, familiar pink ponytail swishing as she looked around.

Briony's eyes flashed when she saw them and it clearly took effort to act nonchalant on her way in their direction. She called a polite response to Chandry's greeting without even looking, dodged a small table, and finally reached Xaeryn and Darius. "Glad I didn't miss you," she murmured, examining a display of commemorative playbills and paintings. "Kaza had a couple meetings where he wanted a show of strength an' I think someone might've been tailing me--"

"And you still came?!" Darius hissed. Xaeryn couldn't disagree; it seemed a terrible risk.

"I lost them first!" she retorted, flicking him an annoyed look. "I've been doing this as long as you, Darius Torren, I know how to lose a tail!"

"Oh, but they're so useful for swatting flies, why would you want to lose a tail if you had it?" Chandry interjected, and Briony looked briefly taken aback by both his sudden presence and appearance.

At least she recovered faster than Darius, showing a warm smile. "Oh, I mean a much less useful kind of tail."

Chandry shrugged at the explanation and disappeared between shelves once more.

"All else aside, I am glad you made it," Xaeryn said to steer them on track. She had to take Briony's word she'd truly shaken the tail. "Any developments for you?"

"Jarkyth came by for a bit before lunch," Briony said, after a quick glance to assure Chandry was moved off and there were no other customers in the store. "They shut themselves in the sitting room for near an hour. They're planning something with the Torch, and I feel like--"

"Any other visitors or messages this morning?" Xaeryn interrupted. "Perhaps that evoked a change in demeanor?"

Briony gave her a curious look but nodded. "He got a message during breakfast that prompted a very smug smile." Her brow furrowed. "Come to think, he did say something to the messenger that I didn't catch. Wonder if that's what made Jarkyth come over; they've been really careful about appearances. Why?" She crossed her arms. "You're being sort of intense, Xaeryn. It's scaring me."

Xaeryn explained the circumstances. Again. "And with what you say occurred, I think it's a safe bet our friends are responsible."

Briony's expression shifted aghast and she reached over to squeeze Xaeryn's shoulder comfortingly. It was a surprisingly hefty squeeze. "Are you doing alright?"

Xaeryn nodded. "Don't have the luxury to be otherwise."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Actually, yes. Do you know of any other Diminished among King Kaza's entourage?"

Briony's face screwed in thought. "That came along? Just a few. It's funny; he's superstitious as hael, likes to flaunt me at every opportunity, but he's also nervous about trusting in magic too much. There's a Binder, to do his protective wards. Shy little redhead, I've never heard her speak and don't even know her name," she said regretfully, twirling her ponytail as she continued. "Heron's Ket, mostly here for his skill with battle magic, but he's a fair hand at conjuring--"

"Traveing?" Xaeryn's brows arched.

"He... probably could if he had to," Briony nodded, then gave a small gasp. "You think he's the one who took your friend?"

"Seems likely," Xaeryn said. If he was a full-blood Ket he could do it single-handed. "Are they the only ones?"

"For Ackshin, yeah. Jarkyth has a few 'judiciously placed servants' he's alluded to. Mostly things like Binding or Seer, useful but not dangerous if they decide to turn on him. Has a Shifter Heron won't stop nattering about." She smirked. "I think he's stuck on her."

Darius snorted. "Not important, Bry."

"You never know, D." She shrugged and turned to Xaeryn. "So, why do they want your friend?"

"I've been trying to figure that," Xaeryn sighed, trailing her fingers over a dark lantern. "Even from unpleasant angles. If they know I'm on their trail and want to keep me in the dark, I've already learned--and written down--near everything about the Torch, and there are... more final ways to remove him as a source.

"If they want to use him as leverage to make me dust on the case, you'd think they'd be more blatant or would have left a note-"

"Unless they're countin' on your big brain to fill in the blanks," Darius interjected sardonically. "An' you knowin' without them sayin' serving to make you more suggestible."

"Such a ray of sunshine, D," Briony groused, elbowing him sharply.

"He has a point," Xaeryn said, gritting her teeth at the thought. "But they'll be quite disappointed if that's their goal."

Briony flashed a fierce smile as she shifted to a shelf of knick knacks. "So, what's our plan, then?"

"Darius mentioned trailing one of the king's people to Ashtown. I'll have Thieves Guild watch the area more closely if they're amenable" --and she'd sweeten the deal if that's what it took to make them amenable--"you and Darius keep an eye for our friends' behavior so we can act swiftly if they do anything hinky." She tapped a finger to her lips. "I hate being stuck in so reactive a course, but I fear it's where our options lay."

Though if opportunity presented itself she would seize it with both hands.

"I guess you're righ- Oh, this is adorable!" Briony gave a delighted (and distracted) squeal as she snatched a small ceramic ahfuri off the shelf. It was adorable, but-

Xaeryn cleared her throat.

"I'll keep eyes peeled," Briony promised, cradling her find.

"How're we passing along anything we see?" Darius asked.

"Telephone or wire, I suppose," Xaeryn replied.

"Right." Briony nodded, wiggling slightly as she glanced toward the counter. "I'm gonna go pay for this." She darted across the store.

Darius fixed Xaeryn with a steady look. "You will tell us if you learn anything, right, miss snooper? Before you go harin' off after your friend alone?"

"Have you decided to worry about me in his absence?" Xaeryn said dryly.

He just arched a brow.

"I promise to pass along anything I learn, I don't promise to wait before acting on it."

Darius chuckled and glanced at Briony, who was chatting up Chandry with another warm smile as she paid. "Don't s'ppose I can blame you for that." He tugged on his cap. "See you soon, lady detective."

Briony noted him leaving and darted after him, barely remembering to grab her purchase.

Xaeryn smiled and browsed a few more minutes before heading for the door herself.

A hand on her arm stopped her just before she exited. "One moment," Chandry chirped, pressing something into her palm. "Don't forget your prize."

Xaeryn blinked at the bronze sun brooch. "Prize-?"

The riddle.

"To the victor go the spoils," Chandry proclaimed, releasing her arm to give another bow, and then ducked away. Rather than drag things out by protesting or trying to insist on paying--experience said he wouldn't take a danar--Xaeryn slipped the brooch in her handbag and headed for her office.

---

It hit her like a thunderbolt halfway up the steps--it was midafternoon and she'd not eaten since breakfast. As if summoned by the realization, her stomach cramped and her knees bobbled on the next step.

Xaeryn scowled at the reminder she needed to eat. There was too much to do, she needed to talk to Thieves Guild, she needed to poke around, she needed to find Red before--

Her stomach growled loudly.

I think there's still my half a sandwich left from yesterday, she surrendered--reluctantly--to her body's urging. After all, she wouldn't get much done if she fainted from hunger. The half sandwich. Perhaps an apple. Ten minutes to eat. She could spare that. Red would fuss if he knew she wasn't taking care of herself.

Xaeryn smiled wryly as she unlocked the door. That was better motivation than anything. She checked the back of the door as she closed it; no sigil showing, so no break-in attempt. She collected the sandwich and apple, opting to sit at her desk and review notes while she ate. Maybe there was something helpful she'd missed.

There was quite a bit to review, though less than it appeared by page count given Red's sprawling shorthand. He didn't doodle like she did, instead filling the page edge to edge. It didn't look like he'd found anything new while getting this together and it was easy to skim.

As she tucked the papers back in the drawer her gaze landed on the earring. She set down the small remaining portion of her sandwich and stared.

Couldn't hurt to try again...

She removed the earring, fetched her scrying disk, and cleared her mind to focus. The disk's surface clouded, cleared, and gave her nothing but the same dead air.

Xaeryn growled and glared at the earring. "Where is he?!"

She'd run into protective wards or sigils before blocking scries. This was different; just empty not blocked, and it kept happening on this case--

The telephone rang. She very seriously considered not answering. She needed to get to Ashtown. But that would be unprofessional, and what if it was Pan? Or Darius, or Briony, though this would be awful quick for one of them. So she sighed and picked up the receiver. "Xaeryn Shrike Investigations." Please be quick.

"Finally!" Ms. Aerin huffed on the other end. "I've been trying to reach you for hours, Miss Shrike!"

Really should get a secretary... "Apologies, there was a development and I was out of office." She ran a hand down her face.

"From your tone, I'd reckon this is not a positive development in the direction of recovering the artefact and arresting the thieves?"

"It might lead there," Xaeryn acknowledged. "But the actual occurrence is not. They abducted my friend who'd been helping with research."

"Ah. My condolences, Miss Shrike. Is there any chance of them learning compromising details?"

"Not if I've followed the trail to correct suspicions, no. He knows the history and legend around the Torch, but not the current state of my investigation." She shifted her grip on the telephone. "And my suspect is already familiar with all of that."

"Ah, so you do have a firm suspect."

"Mm." The brooch slid out of her handbag when she nudged it aside, and Xaeryn picked it up to toy with as she talked. "I was pretty firmly on his scent after the gala, but I met a couple... inside men, shall we say, who confirmed my suspicions. So I've found the man, I believe, I just need to find where he's stashed the artefact" --and Red--"and proof of his complicity in the matter."

"Excellent! Mr. Syndran told me you had some promising leads from the gala, I'm glad to hear one of them panned out," Ms. Aerin said. "The case has felt... treading water too long."

"Oh, yes, I suppose those developments did occur after we talked," Xaeryn murmured, tracing the bronze sun's rays.

"Talked?" There was a frown in her voice. "Miss Shrike, I wasn't there."

Something cold skittered down Xaeryn's spine to swirl in her gut. "What? I grant that it was a full night, but I distinctly remember talking to you."

"Then apparently I have a doppelganger," Ms. Aerin said tartly. "I didn't go, Miss Shrike. I was dealing with the effects of a traitorous sandwich at lunch."

Food poisoning?? "Then who..." The nagging sensation of just missing something was back. Followed like a bucket of ice water by the thought of the conversation she'd just had.

There's a Shifter working for Jarkyth.

"Did you inform Mr. Syndran you wouldn't be attending?" Xaeryn asked, willing her voice to stay level as her mind raced to incorporate this twist.

"Of course. I called the office." A pause. "I was honestly surprised to learn he attended without me. But the Hall is an important enough contract, I suppose it makes sense..."

Xaeryn shifted in her seat and cleared her throat. "Ms. Aerin, to all appearances, he attended with you."

There was a long silence as the other woman processed her words, followed by a snort. "Do you expect me to believe some impersonator managed to fool Riel Syndran into thinking she was me for several hours?!?!"

"Not for hours," Xaeryn corrected. "A few minutes for the drive to the gala, and then a short chat every so often throughout the evening. Mingling's the point of such an event, from my understanding. And at one point when I was chinning with him he mentioned 'you' were bustling about as if the gala was your responsibility instead of the museum's."

"That is the sort of thing I would do," Ms. Aerin sighed. "Still, I wonder how she pulled it off. And why."

"Information would be my guess," Xaeryn said. She idly clipped the brooch to her blouse and pulled out her notepad to page through. "My chief suspect is the king of Elinden, who has cultural and religious motives if he is indeed responsible, and at least a few high-placed political connections who could hire or employ someone skilled at disguise. The only motive I could imagine would be nosing around to see if there's information they missed. Or something they need that I have, or if there was worry I was too close on their trail." She flexed her bruised hand, evidence of the answer to that.

"And what would they have learned from your chat with her?"

"From me? That I had talked to Miss Aescar about people who tried to buy, claim, or steal the Torch. And that my notepad had been stolen. Nothing they didn't know already."

"They knew about the notepad?" Ms. Aerin said, arched brow in her voice.

"Oh, right." Xaeryn explained the reasoning behind that belief, the words trailing off as she reached a particular note from her inaugural meeting with Briony and Darius. She stared at it a moment, then decided to take a shot in the dark. "Ms. Aerin, did you go to the museum to oversee the arrival of the artefacts?"

"That was the plan," Ms. Aerin replied. "However, there were a couple... issues that arose requiring my attention, so I had to leave before they were done."

Got you. Despite the nagging sensation still growing at the base of her skull, Xaeryn smirked. "Thank you. Enlightening as this conversation has proven, was there a reason you were trying to reach me? I have a couple time-sensitive angles to investigate..."

"Just looking for an update; we hadn't heard from you yet today and Mr. Syndran is getting restless at how long things are dragging out."

"Believe me, I share his disapporval of that," Xaeryn said, running a finger over the notepad page. "I'm highly motivated to change it, and hopeful one of the new angles will bear significant fruit."

"Very well then, I'll leave you to it. Good day, Miss Shrike."

"Good day." The nagging grew stronger as she dropped the telephone back in its cradle. She was missing something, something right in front of her, and she couldn't help but feel it was something vital.

Deep breath and half a step back, she told herself. If Ms. Aerin hadn't stayed to oversee the whole delivery at the museum, and she knew from Darius and Ferrin's accounts nothing happened to the couriers' caravan on the way through the city, then it seemed clear the Shifter masqueraded as her to get access once the delivery arrived but she'd left. Xaeryn pulled out the photograph of Solimer's Torch. It wasn't even the size of her palm; easy to conceal in a handbag or pocket--or your blouse if you were feeling bold.

I know how they did it. The adrenaline rush at that victory was somewhat dulled by knowing these people--smart, bold, and desperate--had Red.

The Shifter had probably been emboldened by her success at the delivery--faking bad humor so people were glad to be rid of you was one off the oldest tricks in the book. Enough to attempt something more daring, like copying Aerin again for the gala--

Xaeryn sat bolt upright in her chair, the nagging turned to gut-wrenching revelation as pieces clicked. There was one more thing the Shifter had learned from her at the gala.

Red was the only other person who could read her shorthand.

Nausea twisted and she almost tasted her lunch again. It really was her fault. She'd relayed the damning information to the culprits with blithe ignorance.

And now that she knew, and was recalling the encounter with a more critical eye, all the clues seemed blatantly obvious. The chillier manner, the repeated 'Detective Shrike' rather than 'Miss', the vague prodding at topics they had already discussed.

Self-flagellation later, tracking down Red now, she scolded. The one silver lining to realizing her gaffe was that if they had abducted Red for such a purpose, they'd need him alive, conscious, and (mostly) unharmed.

The swift counter to that--and extreme incentive to hurry--was she had no idea how far they'd go to make him cooperate. Or what they wanted from her notes. Or if they would believe what he claimed about their contents.

There was not, however, any doubt in her mind what would happen once they had what they wanted.

She needed to talk to Thieves Guild. Now.

Xaeryn pushed away from the desk with vigor, only just remembered to lock up the case paraphernalia, and headed out the door, determined steps carrying her toward Ashtown.

---

She'd wound her way through the streets and was just in sight of the cat graffiti outside the Guild's warehouse when movement raked her peripheral vision and a lanky figure dropped off a low roof nearby.

"You're sure gettin' easy with navigating our streets, Miss Shrike," Chase said with a grin, shoving his hands in his pockets. Dust or dirt smeared the sleeve and front of his dark red shirt, and his green eyes twinkled as he examined her. "Quite the skill for a proper lady to develop; people will talk."

"An excellent memory is actually quite a useful skill to refine as a detective," Xaeryn corrected. "I need to speak with you."

"Oho, straight to the point." He was still grinning. "This about the deal you made with Ari?" One hand came out of the pocket to gesture toward the warehouse door.

"Yes." She gripped her handbag tightly more out of urgency than concern. "I wanted to talk about the terms."

"Changing them on us already?" Chase made a tsking sound as he turned into a room, smaller than where they'd spoken before, more of an office. "Not wise to play around with Thieves Guild, sunshine."

Xaeryn grit her teeth. Miss Shrike. But it wasn't worth it. "Not... changing in any way meant to be detrimental or unfair to you," she said, taking a seat when he offered. "You know I'd asked your people to keep an eye for anything hinky. I was wondering what the trade off would be for more closely examining a smaller area."

"So, rather than a general 'let me know if anything weird happens on your turf', you want us to poke around part of it for something specific?" Chase sat behind what approximated a desk as he spoke--planks balanced atop crates--and put his feet up.

"Yes. What change would that bring to our bargained price?"

He smirked and played with one of his rings, studying her face with a keen look in his eyes. "Well, seeing as we've already made a pretty lyss off you, which I'm sure you'll at least partly claim as a business expense, so Merchants Guild foots the bill" --he gave a Cheshire grin at the thought--"I don't want any more of your money."

She arched a brow. "No?" The hair prickled at her nape.

Chase slid a knife free of its boot sheath and stared at the blade nonchalantly. "No, I think for this I want a favor." His eyes flicked to hers. "Regardless of if we find what you're after."

"Accepted, but I won't do anything illegal," Xaeryn said without a beat of hesitation.

"Darling, this is Thieves Guild," he drawled, his grin unwavering under piercing green eyes.

"And I"m certain there's at least a few legitimate things you can think of to ask me," she countered. "Nothing. Illegal." She'd square anything else between her and the One-God, but she wasn't going to jeopardize her livelihood doing something that would turn the police fully against her. She was already sort of a grey area to them. If push came to shove, she'd look for Red and the Torch herself.

"If it has to be on the up, then two favors," Chase said. He was studying her with narrowed eyes and it made her wonder what he saw.

She didn't feel like playing games to get an answer out of him, however. "One regardless, two if you're successful. I'm interested now in just the south-eastern quarter, near the wall in particular. Looking for a building that's being used to stash at least one stolen artefact and a... captive. But before you shift into that, did your people see anything from the more general assignment?"

"Twiggy blonde in the northeast part of the district, just hanging around." He waggled his brows. Xaeryn knew as well as he did people did not loiter in Ashtown for their health. "But she didn't do anything much; lingered and left, so I'd wager she got dusted on by whoever was s'pposed to meet her."

It didn't seem relevant, but she filed it away nonetheless. "Thank you. I'll be checking soon to see if you've found anything with the narrowed area."

"Anxious, are we?" Chase said with a knowing smile. "And could I get a description of this 'captive'? In case we see them, we should know if it's the right person, wouldn't you say?"

"He's tall, red hair, green eyes, street clothes sans jacket and perhaps tie." He didn't always wear one. "I'm not sure how they've been treating him, so he might be roughed up." She stood. "And this is a time-sensitive case that has already drug out longer than desired, so perhaps I am a bit anxious for its conclusion."

"Hopefully we'll find something that can help with that goal." He swung his feet down. "Be seein' you, Miss Shrike."

"You certainly will, Chase." She made her way outside, blinked through the dim-to-bright shift again, and briefly considered poking around herself before deciding to return to her office. Perhaps scrying on Red directly would work this time... If she could just see him, it would help the worry gnawing in her chest. No matter how dire the straits.

---

It did not work. Still nothing. Xaeryn hated feeling powerless at the best of times, not being able to do anything now, with Red in harm's clutches, was pure torture. It was getting harder and harder to fight off the frantic, paralyzing dread as each avenue she explored dropped a dead end in her path. She even got desperate enough to poke around the king's hotel, but that, too, came up empty.

She wasn't truly hungry, but when dinner time came she didn't have anything else to do except pray and go over notes again. Wait for Briony or Darius to reach out, if they would have cause. So she fixed something small and made herself eat. She didn't taste a bite.

To keep herself from pacing a hole in the floor, she decided to give scrying with the earring one more shot. Third time's the charm, wasn't that the saying?

Yes, she was getting a headache from scrying so much in one day. (Or trying to.) No, she didn't care if it would let her find Red before something happened to him.

There was a sense of last-ditch finality to this attempt as she prepared. Logic would dictate giving up if it failed to produce result again. Xaeryn wasn't sure she could be logical about this.

She pinched the earring between her thumb and first two fingers, focused on the bronze scrying disk, and sent up a prayer. One-God, please.

The surface wavered, clouded, cleared on an image. A lightning bolt of desperate relief seared through her and she almost lost the scry before focusing greedy attention on what she could see. A tall man, well built, with silvery-white hair. She strained her concentration until pain lanced her temples and could make out the Ket tattoo on his wrist and earring the match of the one she held in his ear. The background was fuzzy, but she got the sense of generic grandeur, like a ritzy hotel. Another figure stepped into the bounds of her scry--King Kaza Ackshin.

Xaeryn struggled to keep her breathing steady as hope nipped at her soul. A solid connection.

There was another silhouette at the edge, just a shadow, but it might've been Briony. The posture and ponytail looked right.

Her subject--Heron, she'd guess--and King Kaza were exchanging words, which the silent nature of scries meant she didn't catch, and their positioning made it hard to read lips. But it was clear from body language they were preparing to leave. The toll was too much and the scry faded as the figures headed out of the room.

Xaeryn's heart pounded with adrenaline and exertion in equal share as she sat back.

A lead. Oh, blessed God above, she had a lead. They were heading somewhere, the gamble was if it was where she wanted to find or something unrelated.

She was on her feet and halfway across the room before she remembered her promise to Darius. If Briony was with King Kaza, did that count as one of them knowing? Did she really have time...

Xaeryn groaned, turned back the desk, and called the place Darius had said he was staying. No, "Mr. Thrace" wasn't in, did she want to leave a message for him? Deep breath through her nose. "Tell him to meet his snooper friend by the Ashtown gate. She's not going to wait for him long." She hung up before the desk clerk could respond.

If she hustled, she could pick up the king's entourage at the gates and follow. If that's where they were going. If it wasn't, she'd be out of the office, should anyone try to reach her, and miss a vital update.

She had to follow this. To be so close, have this dropped almost literally in her lap...

What she'd seen of King Kaza's expression was eager--he was looking forward to wherever this would lead. That thought alone tipped the balance. There was only one course of action for her and she knew it.

Xaeryn didn't even bother with a hat this time. She only grabbed her handbag because it held her dagger, and if she'd chosen correctly, she would likely need it.

Please let me be right. Please let him be alright. There was no way to ensure someone knew what she was doing--she really should get a secretary--so she'd just have to hope. Hope Briony was truly along, or Darius wasn't out long to get her message, or something. This might very well be the culmination of her case, and all she cared about was saving her friend.

"Nothing. Happened."

"Did you want it to?"

Her hands were shaking as she locked the drawer, locked the door, and hurried toward the Ashtown gates, thoughts on Red and a fervent prayer in her heart.

#queens fic #shoh #shepherds of haven #xaeryn shrike #liefred antiqua #panrachus #briony stormbreaker #chase trinaeste #tlbt #ryn/red

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queen-scribbles · 7 months

Note

18, 22, and 33 for Trick and Ryn, please! I really love them both!

18. Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others?

I think both of them admire wisdom more, though for Ryn it's pretty close(60/40) while Trick it's a bit bigger of a gap(80/20)

22. What does your character like in other people?

Ryn likes intelligence, straightforwardness, intellectual curiosity, telling/finding the truth, passion for whatever is the object of your interest, standing by your convictions.

Trick likes a sense of humor(puns especially), standing up for the little guy, kindness, strong sense of right/wrong, easygoing, comfortable with silence, willing to let her go off about guns.

33. In the face of criticism, is your character defensive, self-deprecating, or willing to improve?

Ryn's knee-jerk reaction is usually* to get defensive, but if you explain your point in a way she can't argue/debate away, she'll work on it. As long as she agrees with you it's a flaw that needs fixing. ;3

Trick is self-deprecating and willing to improve pretty much anything

*Red, Pan, and Riel, in that order, can skip the defensive step and skip straight to the "I'll work on it" as long as she agrees whatever it is needs working on.

Hard Mode Asks

#hark mode asks #xaeryn shrike #elyana trick

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queen-scribbles · 2 years

Text

The Long Burning Torch ch 6

Big thanks to @emeraldgreaves for help with remembering some names/descriptions for this behemoth of a chapter for my @shepherds-of-haven 20s AU. (9500 words. Have fun y’all I sure did) ---

The drive was, of course, uneventful. Wasn’t really long enough to be otherwise, though Xaeryn did peek a couple times for the car that tried to follow her on her first visit to the museum. They chatted about simple things; books they were reading, classes Red was teaching, one or two of Xaeryn’s past cases.

It was after she handed the car off to the valet and they’d been granted entry by the door staff that Xaeryn brought up one of her more mundane curiosities.

“Liefred, I’ve been wondering...” she began as she found a good spot where she could watch arrivals without being obvious about it, waiting for his soft hum of acknowledgement. “With Pan being the one who drove into the city-”

“Yes, I know how to drive, Xaer,” Red laughed. “I just don’t have much need and so don’t own a car. I asked Pan to borrow his, but when he found out why I wanted it, he asked to come along to see you and Neon. Why?”

“Just curious. With your skill at translocating, but the inherent risks of that skill, I could see it going either way.” Xaeryn settled herself between a painting of the previous autarch and a display case containing a glided lance where she had a good view of the door.

“I’m probably a tad rusty at this point,” Red conceded with a wry smile. “The other reason I let Pan drive. But I do know the basics.”

“Good to know.” Her focus was caught by an arriving cluster of guests. Time to work.

“Someone catch your eye?” Red murmured, seeing where her gaze had gone. “Or just getting a general match of faces and names?”

“The latter,” she said. “In case there’s anyone I need to talk to aside from the planned conversations, I won’t have to wander around like a fool looking for them.”

“Always covering your bases,” he said with a soft, fond laugh.

“Makes me life easier down the road,” Xaeryn shrugged with a smile. Her attention was pulled from the entrance by a flurry of rose-petal pink.

“Miss Shrike, I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Miss Acquell commented brightly as she approached. She winced briefly, then smiled, pushing her spectacles back up her nose. “I’m happy to, of course, but-”

“I knew what you meant,” Xaeryn broke in gently. “Whitestone Couriers were kind enough to secure my entry so I could continue my investigation.” She gave Red’s arm a light squeeze. “And this is my friend Liefred Antiqua. He’s Headmaster of Solhadur Academy, and gracious enough to accompany me on short notice. Liefred, Shery Acquell, museum curator.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Red said holding out one hand, “and you’re welcome to call me Red.”

“Oh, charmed as well,” Miss Acquell said, shaking his hand and dropping an abbreviated curtsy that bobbed both the frills on her rosy dress and the loose curls of hair. “And you can call me Shery.” She looked up at Xaeryn, bit her lip. “Would... this investigating involve talking to guests?”

Xaeryn nodded. “There’s a couple. Ms. Aescar, for one, if she shows. But I promise to be discreet and courteous. The last thing I want, for my sake and the museum’s, is to cause a scene. I work better the less I stand out.”

“Good,” Miss Acquell sighed. “Thank you.” She looked a touch frazzled, Xaeryn noted, despite the evening having just begun.

“Everything alright, Shery?” she probed, watching for tells there was something the curator was leaving unsaid.

“Oh, this sort of event is just... a lot for me,” Miss Acquell said with a bashful laugh. “But they’re good publicity for the museum, so I’ll manage,” she smiled, adjusting her spectacles again. “Even if my assistants seem to have vanished again...” She waved a hand when Xaeryn started to speak. “I’m sure they’ll turn up. Like as not just helping new arrivals or something similar. It’ll be fine.”

“Of course it will,” Red smiled, gestured at the room, “you’ve done an excellent job with the set up, I’m sure the evening will be wonderful.”

“Thank you,” Miss Acquell said, tension easing slightly from her shoulders at the warmth in his voice. Xaeryn smiled to herself at how easily he had that effect on people. “I have some things I need to check on, but Miss Shrike, good to see you and Red, good to meet you.” She was off in a whirl before either could reply.

Red nodded toward the door, where a lavender-haired socialite and a pair of full Hunters had just arrived, heading toward the main crowd of now-assembled gentry. “I believe it’s time to mingle, Miss Shrike, so it doesn’t raise brows when you start interrogating people.”

She fought for composure past the mirth in his eyes. “I will have informative conversations, Headmaster Antiqua,” she said loftily, fighting a smile. “Just because I’m not gifted to do it as smoothly as you doesn’t mean I’ll muff it entirely.”

“I know, I know,” Red assured her with a grin. “First rate snoop and bees’ knees when it comes to digging out what you need to know.” He held out his arm. “Shall we mingle?”

“If we must,” Xaeryn sighed with only marginally exaggerated dismay, slipping her arm through his as they headed to strike up conversation.

---

The mingling went well. Having Red at her side helped polish some of the rough edges to Xaeryn’s conversational skills, and she found herself warming with only slight reluctance to the concept of small talk. When he finally broke off to go gape at an artefact that caught his eye--a gigantic sphere of green-patinaed metal--she let him go. She knew him well enough to know he’d been practically squirming with anticipation for at least ten minutes.

She turned her attention to a nearby pair of paintings. Her own artistic talents might lie more in the direction of sketching, but she did appreciate other mediums, and these were both gorgeous examples.

“Magnificent, aren’t they?” The speaker proved to be the lavender-haired socialite she’d seen entering earlier. Faint auburn roots only just peered through in a couple places, making the hair color a choice rather than gift of nature. Interesting. Not many Norms chose to associate with something so common among Diminished. “I’ve always loved her use of color,” she continued, gesturing to the paintings.

Xaeryn nodded. “As do I. She makes it a point to use light and shadow to full effect and the results are..” she glanced at the left-hand portrait, a sunrise over Haven that made her chest ache it was so well done. “...breathtaking. Are these your contribution to the exhibit, then?”

“Oh, no, darling,” the woman laughed. “My support has been strictly financial.” She toyed with her silver edged fan and smiled. “I simply noted a fellow admirer of Mme. Laryia’s works and couldn’t resist a chat.”

“It is keen to find someone with similar interests at an event like this,” Xaeryn agreed. She studied the other portrait, a dazzling depiction of light through the trees over an Elven city. Vale, maybe? It looked like artistic vision rather than one specific location.

“It is, indeed.” The fan flipped open and closed. “I believe there are more of her works throughout the exhibit, as accent to other displays.”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Xaeryn said, sensing their conversation nearing its end.

That was confirmed a moment later when a man with sky blue hair swept back in a low tail approached and offered the woman a champagne flute. “Sorry for the wait, people are chatty tonight.”

“It’s alright, Rhy,” she took it with a smile, “As you can see, I managed to occupy myself.” She smiled at Xaeryn and linked her arm through her escort’s. “It was nice chatting with you.”

“And you,” Xaeryn smiled back, not at all ruffled by the dismissal. Brief and polite was how she preferred her bull sessions.

Besides, taking in the portraits had moved her close enough to not draw attention if she chose to chat with Ms. Aescar, who was currently not engaged in conversation, and she didn’t want to pass up a chance at a one on one talk with the elusive heiress. Hers had been an easy entrance to mark, even from halfway across the room--she came alone, for starters, and her dress was far more sheer than anything Haven fashion would dare offer. She’d also arranged herself in one of the more distant edges of the hall where she could see anyone approach. An instinct no doubt born of coming from the Jalis desert and honed through years of traveling solo.

She saw the moment Ms. Aescar noted her approach, and was encouraged when she didn’t act to avoid an interaction, even if she looked less than thrilled it was occurring.

“And what do you want?” Ms. Aescar asked bluntly, folding wiry muscled arms over her chest as she arched a brow at Xaeryn.

“Just a chat, Ms. Aes-”

“Ayla,” she interrupted.

“Ayla, then,” Xaeryn corrected herself, silently lamenting the number of people on this case who insisted on informality. What did they have against etiquette? “My name is Xaeryn Shrike, and I wanted to talk about your artefact in this exhibit.” She gestured at the room.

“Yeah, haven’t seen it yet, d’they do a good job with the display?” Ms. Aescar asked.

“Actually,” Xaeryn began, remembering her call to the Aescar estate, how Marja had said Ms. Aescar might not even know Solimer’s Torch was missing. “It isn’t here. It was stolen after arriving in the city and I’ve been hired to find it.”

“Oh,” Ms. Aescar grunted, her brows twitching. “Ironic after how much that Syndran fella went on about their security measures.”

“Mr. Syndran is the one who hired me,” Xaeryn said. She’d seen him and Ms. Aerin across the room but not yet had a chance to chat. “He’s doing his utmost to ensure its retrieval.”

“Thanks for that, I guess,” Ms. Aescar muttered, leaning back against the wall. “If it’s missin’, why do you wanna talk to me?”

“To see if any other attempts have been made,” Xaeryn explained, grateful for the distance from the main party for this chat. “Has anyone recently tried to buy it or steal it or anything like that?”

“I’ve had a few offers to buy it over the years,” Ms. Aescar said with a shrug. “The whole ownership mess that keeps cropping up. There was a break-in attempt Marja told me about maybe a year ago? I wasn’t home at the time. But the bastards didn’t make it inside the estate, so we dunno what they were after.”

“And were any of the purchase offers... serious?” Xaeryn probed. She glanced around the room, checking to see if their conversation was raising any eyebrows. Red was still making a slow, awestruck loop of the sphere, Mr. Syndran was chatting with Miss Acquell, but she didn’t see any ears pricked to her and Ms. Aescar.

“Couple weren’t overly keen when I turned ‘em down,” Ms. Aescar said with another shrug. “If that’s what you mean. None of ‘em were high enough to give serious consideration.”

“Hmmm. Xaeryn bit her lip. “I have to confess I’m a bit confused, then, Ayla. Ms. Aerin mentioned you were... less concerned about security than many of their clientele. Why is that, if you find the Torch too valuable to sell?”

“Not so much ‘unconcerned’ as figuring they know how to do their damn job without me stickin’ my nose in.” Ms. Aescar snorted. “Figured wrong there. My parents had an attachment to that piece before they... passed, so I hold on to it for them. I like the thought of it seein’ the world, like I do, so I let museums play host for a while each. And worryin’ about it when it’s in supposedly capable hands would keep me from enjoyin’ my trips, so I don’t worry.”

“Must be nice to travel so much,” Xaeryn said, playing with one of her earrings as memories of her own travels stirred in her mind. “I was a bit of a wanderer myself until I had to settle down to pay the bills.”

“It’s a good life,” Ms. Aescar agreed readily. “Seen some amazing places. You ever make it to the Ivory Isles?”

“No, sadly, the ticket was a bit out of my price range, but I’ve seen Courtshore, which was lovely.” She glanced around again. “No escort tonight?”

“No need,” Ms. Aescar snorted, her eyes glinting. “I can take care of myself. And unless yours is invisible, you don’t appear to have any room to talk.”

“Not invisible, just a history buff,” Xaeryn laughed, pointing at Red. “This gala is like a candy store to him, the least I can let him do for coming with me is look around.”

“Candy store you’re allowed to touch.”

“Heh, true.” Xaeryn watched Red a moment longer. biting back a smile at his enthusiasm. “Just one more question-” She stumbled to a verbal halt when she found Ms. Aescar smirking at her. “What?”

“I’ll be you two make a real cute couple,” Ms. Aescar snarked.

“Oh, we’re not... together like that,” Xaeryn fumbled as her neck grew hot. “He’s a friend.”

“You’re goggling him the same way he’s gogglin’ that statue or whatever the fuck it’s supposed to be,” Ms. Aescar informed her. “He know you’re stuck on him?”

“Hopefully not,” Xaeryn said, trying valiantly to reclaim lost dignity. She hadn’t though she was nearly so obvious. “As I was saying, Ms. Aes-”

“Ayla.”

“Ayla, I just have one more question and then I’ll leave you alone. You wouldn’t happen to recall who made any of the purchase offers on Solimer’s Torch, would you?”

“There was a warlord from Jalis I shut down damn quick,” Ms. Aescar replied promptly, “Couple collectors, one or two mutis tryin’ to claim ownership made offers before they started raisin’ a ruckus ‘bout it actually being theirs.”

“Who?” Xaeryn asked, mentally crossing her fingers. Depending on passage of time, this might be something of a long shot.

“One of those fuckers fighting over the island in the south-”

“Elinden?” Xaeryn offered, mental fingers crossed even harder.

“Yeah, that one. I think the other’n is somewhere east? But they don’t have much of a claim and didn’t make much of an offer, so I didn’t have them figured for serious and didn’t hang on to the name. We done?”

“Yes. Thank you, very much, for the enlightening conversation, Ayla.”

“Yeah, sure, hope it helps you find my artefact.”

“I’m fairly positive it will,” Xaeryn said, and hurried for a corner where she could scribble out some notes. Standing as she’d been to chat up Ms. Aescar, there hadn’t been a way to take them as she talked.

“Industrious as always, I see,” Ms. Aerin commented, coming to a stop by the bench where Xaeryn had settled for her task. Between her heels and her posture, she almost seemed to loom, which was an... interesting reversal.

“I am here to work,” Xaeryn pointed out. “Enjoying the party” --or at least its locale-- “is a bonus, but the job comes first.” She filled a page with shorthand notation before flipping the notepad closed.

“Did you fill the other one so fast?” Ms. Aerin asked.

She frowned. “Pardon?”

“Your notebook,” Ms. Aerin nodded to the red-bound pad as Xaeryn slipped it in her clutch. “It’s new. Did you really fill the other so quickly?”

Now Xaeryn’s brows arched toward her hairline. She knew the woman was sharp-eyed, but the brief glimpse still wouldn’t have been enough for most to notice. “Impressive catch, and no, I didn’t fill it. My handbag was stolen.”

“The red is a bit more eye-catching a color than previous,” Ms. Aerin brushed off the praise with a furrowing brow. “And do you mean to tell me some... rapscallion out there now has all your notes?!”

“Only if he didn’t discard them as worthless,” Xaeryn said dryly. “Even if he could read my shorthand, I can’t imagine I have anything recorded that would interest a dip.”

“Ah, yes, your little trick to ensure no one but you reads your notes,” Ms. Aerin said, adjusting her bracelets. “I’m even more grateful for it now.”

“Well, me and Red,” Xaeryn reminded, with a vague wave toward where she’d seen him. “I’m surprised you would forget that, since it was of such concern to you that your trade secrets stay secrets.”

“I have a lot on my plate, as you know, Detective Shrike,” Ms. Aerin said tartly. “I was swayed by your assurances our secrets would be safe. Should I have believed differently?”

“Not at all,” Xaeryn said. “None of them will escape as a result of this.”

“Glad to hear it, Detective.” Ms. Aerin flashed a distracted smile and glanced across the room. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to check on some things with Miss Acquell. And I’m certain you have more to do.”

“Of course. Good to see you, Ms. Aerin.”

“And you, Detective Shrike.”

They parted, and Xaeryn decided it would be wise to check back in with Red before she continued her mingling. He was, despite the length of her absence, still staring at the large sphere that had caught his eye.

“Must be quite a find to hold your interest for this long,” she teased, coming to stand next to him.

“This is a Worldwalker artefact, Ryn,” he replied, not looking away from his study of the etching that covered the surface. “I’d give my left arm and my tenure to have a month to study it.”

Xaeryn smiled, heart skipping a beat as she watched him him. Like a kid at Wintersun, she thought fondly. “You could talk to Shery, you know. And if the museum was amenable to it being studied, I doubt she would require so hefty a payment.”

“Just my left arm, then?” Red joked, though the sparkle in his eyes when he looked at her made her wonder if he half-meant it. “Might be worth it.” He turned to face her fully. “Did you need me for something?”

“No,” Xaeryn shook her head, “just wanted to see how you were doing, maybe talk to someone I know and like for a minute.”

He chuckled. “I’ll happily fill some of your time, Xaer. How go the informative conversations?”

Her heart skipped again, trying not to think about Ms. Aescar’s comment. “Very informative, actually. There have been parties interested in the torch, including the one you mentioned I should look into.”

“That is informative,” he agreed, offering her his arm. She slipped hers through without a second thought, and they started a turn around the room. Leisurely pace, looking at artefacts as they walked. “You have an awful lot pointing in the same direction, then.”

“I do, indeed.” She glanced over toward King Kaza of Elinden, currently engrossed in chatting with a politician she vaguely recognized--Jarreth, Jarket, something like that, his pink-haired companion standing close but her eyes clearly alight at the pageantry involved in a gala. “Now I just need a chance to talk to him. I feel like he wouldn’t take kindly to an interruption.”

“Suppose you’ll have to talk to me longer, then,” Red said with a wink as they slowed by a display case housing a beautiful, broken silver javelin. “If you think you can manage it.”

“I’ll find a way to muddle through,” Xaeryn laughed. As if you aren’t the only one here I really want to talk to. “Surrounded by this much history, I’m sure we can mange one of those hours-long talks we had in school.” Her brow furrowed when she read the display placard. “A hraqa?!”

Red’s brows arched and he studied the weapon with new intensity. “I didn’t think Hunters let those leave their side, let alone out of the Reach.”

“We don’t,” a gravelly, melodic voice said from nearby. “We were not given a choice in this instance.”

She looked up from the case, and then more to meet the gaze of the Hunter standing nearby, one of the pair she’d seen enter near the gala’s start, as if guarding the case. “How so?”

“This was taken as a prize of conquest during the Castigation,” the Hunter said grimly. “My family has spent generations trying to trace it, so it can be returned where it belongs. We finally learned of its inclusion in this... exhibit” --there was a barely noticeable trace of disdain on the word-- “with just enough time to attend and see what will be required to reclaim something that should never have left our care in the first place.” He caught himself with a faint grimace and inclined his head. “Forgive my manners. Sola Naolin Prince.” The words were paired with a shallow formal bow.

Xaeryn and Red introduced themselves in turn. “Are you planning to speak with the museum curator, then?”

Naolin gave a stiff nod. “And whomever else I need to; I understand this location is but one stop of many, so the decision may not rest entirely in her discretion.”

“You would be correct,” Xaeryn said. “Her authority only extends to which things are on display here and how. Though these are deeply personal weapons for you, aren’t they? You could petition for it to be removed from display while you speak with whoever claims ownership.”

In her periphery, she caught Red’s lips twitch toward a smile at her phrasing before he spoke. “I’d imagine it would be easier to repatriate than some things. Even with the... limited familiarity of Hunter customs, it’s known hraqa are sacred.” He frowned slightly. “I’m honestly surprised they would display it at all.”

“So I noticed,” Naolin said dryly, a touch of cynicism in his tone. “As you said, most don’t know much about our culture. I imagine a clever liar could spin a tale that would override any hesitance on the part of a curator. I do hope you’re correct that it will be a smooth process to reclaim, I shouldn’t be away from my duties as sola for long.” There was something in his silvery eyes that spoke to not letting that hope run too rampant, all the same. “Until I have opportunity to speak with someone, however, I intend to ensure this hraqa is afforded as close to its due respect as possible.”

“Admirable,” Xaeryn said, examining the hraqa again. There was an ancient, evocative beauty to its design. She could see how curators could be persuaded to display it. “Best of luck in your reclamation efforts, Sola Naolin. We won’t distract you any longer, but it was good chatting with you.”

“And you as well,” Naolin said with a formal half-bow.

Xaeryn and Red moved off, still arm in arm.

“You really think it’ll be that easy for him to get it back?” she asked idly, half-smiling as they passed the case with the necklace Thieves Guild had been planning to steal.

“You don’t?” Red returned, shooting her a curious look.

“It might be less trouble than the mugs trying to claim the torch are having, just because there’s precedent for hraqas being culturally relevant and highly personal, bordering on religious, for Hunters. Arguing for its return to the Reach, to the people, won’t be hard. But if the person currently holding ownership finds a way to insist it be passed to an heir rather than the people as a whole if it’s so personal, they could muddy the waters and make it a good deal more difficult to untangle. Life’s not all berries, Liefred.”

“It’s not all rocks and hardship, either, Ryn,” he said with a fond smile that made her bite her lip. “I know the Hunters have kept themselves somewhat isolated since the Castigation and that makes them a bit more of a grey area than, say, Mages, but something like a hraqa has enough known significance they should be able to argue for the sol taking responsibility until the bloodline can be traced, if necessary.”

“Mm.” She did think he was being a trifle optimistic, but he also made a good point. “I’m sure that Shery would remove it from display, at least, if he asked. Spare having so intimate an aspect of their culture out there for the world to see.”

Red’s lips parted as if to say something, then he pressed them together and shook his head faintly. His attention was caught a moment later by a glass case displaying a trio of ancient tomes and their conversation was forgotten. “Is that what I think it is?!”

Xaeryn bit back a laugh as he tugged her along, grateful he remembered to walk instead of bolt over. “If you think it’s the collected work of Weyellan the Lifegiver, it appears the answer is yes.”

He flashed an almost sheepish smile as they slowed close to the case. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” she smiled. A glance across the room showed King Kaza finally done his conversation with the politician. “I’ll leave you to it,” she said, slipping her arm free, and couldn’t resist teasing a little. “Try not to leave nose prints on the glass.”

Red laughed and ran one hand through his hair. “I’ll do my best, but no promises.”

She clicked her tongue quietly and used her fingers to fix the tousled state of his hair before leaving. It was hard to miss the twinkle in his eye, and she wondered if that was over her actions, or the case full of old books.

To work again. Xaeryn shook off the thoughts as she approached King Kaza. His posture bore out accounts she’d read alluding to his arrogance, and he surveyed the room with hard eyes even as he leaned over to murmur in his companion’s ear. There was a sharpness, a cunning in those eyes that warned her to tread carefully in this conversation.

She inclined her head respectfully as soon as her approach caught his eye. “Would I have the honor of addressing King Kaza Akshin, the Lightning-Cutter?” she asked, softening her tone to rather more awed than she actually felt.

He smirked, brows arched as he gave a magnanimous nod. “You would. It is gratifying to see my name has spread so far.”

“It has certainly done that,” Xaeryn said. “How are you finding the gala?”

King Kaza’s mouth twisted into a frown. “Far more frivolous and shallow than anything we would host in Elinden,” his companion nudged him and he shot her a stormy look before continuing, “but I can see why the glamor would attract a crowd such as this. Very fancy.”

“Some people enjoy fancy parties. Highness,” his companion interjected, grimacing a little as she hastened to include the honorific.

“And when did I say I did not?” the king returned with a hard-edged chuckle. “Different as it may be, there is much to be enjoyed even here.” He gestured at the hall, sweeping to include exhibits and guests alike. “Such a display of wealth. So many potential alliances.”

“Is that why you’re here, then?” Xaeryn asked, toying with her necklace. “Looking for allies? I understand there’s still... turmoil in Elinden, and this would be a good crowd in which to find support. Wealthy, as you said, and... willing to contribute to something they find worthwhile.”

King Kaza’s eyes gleamed. “Very astute, Miss...” He arched a brow as the words trailed off.

“Forgive me, Circe Blackwood,” Xaeryn introduced herself. Something about the man--his reputation, the hardness of his eyes--cautioned she keep some cards close. An ace up her sleeve, as it were. “I’m glad you see something of value in this crowd. They are, after all, the reason this gala is occurring; contributors and financiers of a truly valuable celebration of culture and history. Always a smart thing to remember where we came from.”

“And which of those would you be, Circe?” There was challenge under the curiosity in the pink-haired woman’s voice.

“Oh, neither, Miss...?” Xaeryn laughed lightly to disguise the searching once-over.

“Stormbreaker,” King Kaza replied before she opened her mouth. “My escort. Bodyguard, you would say. And what do you mean, neither?”

“I find things.” It was, technically, not a lie. Xaeryn refrained from commenting on the irony of someone known as Lightning-Cutter having a bodyguard named Stormbreaker. “I’ve helped the museum and a few others here locating things they sought.” Slightly closer to a lie, as that contract wasn’t past tense yet. “Do you need help finding anything? I’m very good at my job.”

King Kaza chuckled mirthlessly. “The only things I have sought I have found.”

“Lucky for you,” Xaeryn said with a wry laugh. Had pride flickered in his eyes with the comment? She definitely caught a muscle twitch in Stormbreaker’s jaw. “You can enjoy the party, take in the sights” --she gestured to the cases-- “maybe make some friends that will come in handy.”

“What do you know of Elinden’s situation, Miss Blackwood?” the king asked with a keen look. “To comment friends coming in handy?”

“Powerful friends always come in handy,” she deflected, bobbing her head toward the politician he’d been chatting with earlier. She toyed with her necklace and parsed through what she’d learned for an answer that wouldn’t make him antsy. “I know Elinden’s been in a... multi-faction civil war for a while, that you claimed the throne, and that at least one other faction vocally challenges you.”

“More like three,” Kaza said, holding up fingers to emphasize. “This is why I seek friends; if other nations will recognize my claim, perhaps that will silence the dissenters. And, if not, perhaps it will give me in-roads to places more accepting of my authority.”

“Wise to play the angles,” Xaeryn said with a nod, watching Stormbreaker’s hands flex at her sides. “I hope you’ll also have time for a look around. With so many rare and beautiful things under one roof, surely there’s something to dazzle and catch your eye.”

“I am intrigued by the artefacts from Jalis, true.” The king tipped his head toward that portion of the room. “Quite striking that a number of their designs bear similarity to those of my home.”

“Perhaps a common ancestor?” Xaeryn suggested.

“Perhaps,” King Kaza shrugged. “But I have taken enough of your time, Miss Blackwood.”

“Oh, I always enjoy talking to keen folks like yourself, highness,” she said with a laugh. A flicker of movement caught her eye; Red was done examining the books and was heading her way. “But I do see my partner looking for me, so I’ll leave you to it.” She nodded a semi-formal farewell and turned to head for Red. She hadn’t said anything about a possibility of false names and needed him in the know before anyone chatted him up.

“Good talk?” he asked as they drew near, slowing to offer her his arm.

“Positively enlightening,” Xaeryn said with a smile, slipping her arm through his and taking the opportunity to lean in close. “If he or his companion strike up a conversation, I’m Circe Blackwood, I find things, and you’re my partner.”

“Do I get to contribute to this backstory?” Red laughed, taking it in stride.

“Any way you like,” Xaeryn replied lightly. “In fact, I’m curious to see what your creative prowess can do.”

That got a chuckle. “I’ll see what I can come up with. For now, are we mingling more...?”

“Maybe a bit,” she said with a sigh. “But I’d rather just take in the exhibit. I haven’t seen as much of it as you with all the bumping gums.”

Red smiled. “Need a break from people?”

“That’s about the size of it,” she nodded ruefully. “At least from making them my focus.”

“Say no more.” He winked and steered her toward a section of displays garnering far less attention than the ones at the front of the large room.

“Do you even know what’s over here?” Xaeryn asked with a laugh.

“No, but I know it’s old and likely from far away, so I’m pretty sure we’ll find it at least a little interesting.”

“Point,” she grinned. The first case proved to be of more interest to her; journals of the first High Augar appointed post-Castigation, as well as a few preserved vestments. Red didn’t wander off, however, his arm comfortably looped through hers until they moved on to the next case. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“For what?” Red shot her a curious look.

“You know...” Probably best not to mention his feelings toward the One-God’s church in the seat of that faith, surrounded by wealthy and powerful adherents. “Being available to help on such short notice. I know social events are something you enjoy, but I did ask very last minute.”

“And like I said, I always have time for you, Xaer,” he said with a boyish smile. “Besides, the chance to see all these artefacts was too good to pass up.”

“Oh, of course,” Xaeryn laughed, warmth twisting in her chest at the sight of his dimple. “How silly of me to think Liefred Antiqua would ever skip the chance to be in a room full of historic relics.”

Red shrugged, smile turning wry. “Guilty as charged.” He cast an admiring look at the next case, slowing to take in the engraved script that decorated the warhammer it held. “Ryn, I wanted to ask-”

“Enjoying the gala, Miss Shrike?”

Xaeryn swiveled to face the interruption, forcing a polite smile. “Yes, but not enough to forget my snooping, Mr. Syndran, no worries.”

He glanced between her and Red and the corner of his mouth twitched. “I apologize for interrupting and do trust your methods, I merely wanted to check if your time has paid off this evening.”

“Very well,” she said, catching his almost vampiric grin at her glance toward King Kaza. “Definitely making progress. Didn’t Miss Aerin pass that along? I spoke to her earlier.”

“Aerin’s been... a bit distracted this evening. She handled most of the logistics to set this up and I think she keeps forgetting it’s out of her hands and into the museum’s.” He brushed something off the sleeve of his jacket. “As I’m sure your office would be a better place for a detailed discussion, shall I come by tomorrow morning? I’m very interested in a full accounting of what you learned tonight.”

“Nine o’clock should work for me,” Xaeryn said, making a rapid guesstimate how much sleep she’d need and when she’d get home tonight.

“Excellent. I’ll see you then.” With a final sharp nod, Mr. Syndran took his leave.

“No introductions, Xaer?” Red whispered playfully.

She snorted a laugh. “A thousand pardons for trying to get the business conversation done as fast as I could. If you drop by my office while Mr. Syndran is there, I’m sure he’d love to meet my research assistant.” That earned her a laugh and she had to clear her throat to stave off the rising warmth in response. “What... What were you about to ask?”

“Ah.” Something hesitant, almost bashful, crept across Red’s features before a warm smile returned. He gestured with his free hand toward the back end of the hall, and the glaringly open space she’d been trying to ignore all night because it made her pulse spike. “Do you... want to dance?”

Her better judgment, struggling to hold years of unspoken sentiment at bay, immediately insisted it was a bad idea. She would let slip something she shouldn’t, make things awkward, lose a friend. She’d been worried about the risk of this very scenario, remember?

She did remember. She’d also never managed to tell Red Antiqua no in her life and didn’t really want to start now. Not when he was looking at her like that; all boyish grin and twinkle in his eyes. She’d been right, she wasn’t strong enough. “Sure.”

The boyish grin widened, the twinkle looked almost like relief for a moment before returning to mischief. “Well, then...” he slipped his arm free of hers and offered his hand instead.

Sun above, she tried to keep her breathing steady as she slid hers into it, but the familiar, lightly callused warmth seemed to shoot straight up her arm to her chest, burning as it went.

Their timing was excellent; the musicians just transitioning between songs as they reached the edge of the dance floor, the singer humming along with the introductory notes before she reached the lyrics. The new tune was something slower, just shy of mid-tempo, and Xaeryn was pleased at the prospect of of enjoying a more leisurely, platonic dance with her best friend.

“Has focusing on work helped make this more bearable?” Red asked as they joined the scattering of other couples for the new dance. “I know you’re usually not keen on this much socializing.”

She laughed, trying to ignore the strains of the lyrics starting, as they undermined attempts to think platonic thoughts.. ‘I must confess that I like you, but there is something amiss...’

“It has, actually. All the fascinating artefacts and history, as well, though nothing so much as having a good friend along for emotional support.” She squeezed his hand. “It’s my good fortune I have one who could come, especially since he keeps turning heads and distracting people from what I’m up to.”

Red blushed at the teasing and shook his head. “You sure they aren’t looking at you, Ryn?” The dance brought them closer together and he smiled. “I know we made light of it earlier, but you do look lovely.” Nothing in the world existed outside the sincerity shining in his green eyes. “I’m sure some of the turning heads are for you.”

A small, breathless chuckle escaped her, face hot from more than the lights and dancing. “Thank you. I likewise meant it when I said you look handsome.” She smiled. “Much as the rumpled professor look suits you, I like this one, too.” Xaeryn toyed with the lapel of his jacket. “I haven’t seen you this dolled up since...”

“The graduation dance,” he finished when memory made the words trail off.

‘...I know some who are always on the go, but here’s what I like best...’

Before we left. After a few moments of following the steps without speaking, Xaeryn asked softly, “Why didn’t we keep in touch?”

Red sighed. “We meant to, didn’t we?” he said, just as softly. The music slowed, as did their movements to match. “I suppose it was a combination of neither having a travel itinerary beyond see the world, so we never knew where to send letters, and then everything with Tevanti...”

“Guess I was lost to the great wide somewhere by the time you got bolted to one place, wasn’t I?” she conceded wryly. A moment’s weighty hesitation and she confessed, more to his tie than him, “I almost stopped by Solhadur a few years ago.” Red’s hand twitched tighter around hers as she continued. “On my way to Haven, once I came to grips with needing to settle somewhere and earn a steady living.”

“Why.. Why didn’t you?” Red asked quietly.

Xaeryn lifted her gaze back to meet his. “Figured everyone was gone. I knew you wanted to travel, thought Pan and Neon and everyone would’ve found jobs and lives elsewhere. That’s how graduations go, isn’t it? Everyone splits to the four winds? In the end, wandering the ground and bumping gums with Tevanti wasn’t enough draw to pull me from my course.”

He chuckled. “Very you. Once you set your mind to something, there’s not much that can derail you.”

She laughed, then tugged his arm to move them off the dance floor as they’d they’d slowed even beyond the tempo of the music and walking was probably better. ‘...Fold me in your arms, it’s your affection I crave...’

“It makes me a good detective,” she said lightly. “...If I’d known you were there, I would’ve come by.” No need to mention how much she’d missed him, but, “It would have been nice to reconnect earlier.”

“It would have,” Red agreed, then smiled warmly and squeezed her hand. “But we managed it anyway, and I’m happy with that.”

One-God, but it was warm in here. “Me, too,” Xaeryn smiled back. There was something in his smile that made her stomach do an extra flip, but even as she opened her mouth to say something undoubtedly foolish, a flash of pink and blue caught her eye and she was reminded--brutally--that she was here to work.

King Kaza’s bodyguard was heading for one of the side doors. Her stride and manner were casual enough, but there was a determination to her path obvious to a trained eye.

Xaeryn sighed. Two more minutes, couldn’t I have two more minutes?

“What?” Red frowned at her shift in demeanor.

“I see a lead I need to follow before I lose it.” She bit her lip in calculated thought, then tugged out her keys and shoved them into his hand. “Take my car back to the office.”

“What?! Wh-”

“If someone think my being here is hinky, me disappearing while you’re still around will confirm their suspicions, but if we’re both gone it just means we left. I’ve chatted up everyone I need to anyway, I shouldn’t be more than an hour behind you.”

“Xaer, I’m not leaving you a-”

“I can take care of myself, Liefred.” Stormbreaker was almost out of the room. Xaeryn curled Red’s fingers around the keys and caught his eye. “Trust me.”

He sighed but nodded and headed for the front door. Xaeryn waited long as she dared, then headed after Stormbreaker.

The museum was dark, of course, outside the area where the gala was being held, dimmed lights every half dozen feet the only illumination. Stormbreaker’s silhouette was easy to follow, the shadows deep enough to mask Xaeryn’s progress. The only potential difficulty was distance, some turns were close enough together she could lose the woman if she wasn’t careful. Xaeryn slipped off her necklace and headband as she went, tucking them in her handbag so the glint wouldn’t betray her. She was three or four turns into following with a long straight hallway ahead when voices to the side caught her attention.

She hesitated, torn between the risk of losing Stormbreaker and concern over a possible ambush. It only took half a second for the latter to win. She didn’t want to deal with an unknown element behind her; those rarely ended well. The door concealing the muffled, sporadic chatter was slightly ahead to her left. With one last glance toward Stormbreaker’s progress, Xaeryn eased up to the door. It bore an employees only placard but the knob was unlocked when she tested. There was another beat of chatter, quiet but heated, that hinted whoever was in the room beyond was oblivious to her presence. She twisted the knob and pulled the door open in one smooth motion.

The two figures in the room--a lanky Norm and tiny Elf--jumped to their feet as if electrocuted by her entrance, then shuffled in a belated attempt to hide the playing cards splayed atop an upside down bucket.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” the Norm blurted, crossing his arms defensively.

Xaeryn arched a brow, letting her gaze drifted deliberately over their uniforms and the keys hanging at his belt. “Nor are you, currently, I suspect,” she returned coolly. “Aren’t you meant to helping with the gala? This is awful far removed.”

“Yeah, but it’s boring, and there isn’t much needs doing anyway,” the Elf muttered, sweeping auburn hair out of her eyes.

“Curator Acquell would beg to differ,” Xaeryn said, letting her tone go downright frosty. “Get back to work or I will tell someone who will make you care to do so.”

She withdrew and returned to her pursuit without waiting to see if they listened, but smirked when she heard the scuffle of footsteps headed back toward the main hall behind her.

Stormbreaker was, of course, gone from view even with her minimizing the delay. Xaeryn muttered a mild oath under her breath and headed in the direction she’d last seen the woman, but there was neither hide nor hair to be found. She still spent some time checking different halls and rooms in dwindling hope of finding some trace before giving up. Something to follow up on another day. Resigned she’d done everything she could, Xaeryn headed back to the main hall, planning to exit properly out the front door. She waved farewell to Shery from across the room, gratified to see her assistants were helping her now, and headed out of the museum.

She’d barely made it past the pool of light that bathed the front entrance when a shadow to her right moved.

Fortunately, Xaeryn was on edge enough from the evening’s events to dodge and block the attacker, shifting back until she reached a nearby street light.

“Oh, good instincts on ya, then,” the bruno sneered, light glinting off metal in one hand. “If only they’d told ya to leave well enough alone.”

He lunged at her again and Xaeryn let her handbag drop to catch his wrist. She twisted the knife away from her and followed up with a punch to the face. The knife clattered to the sidewalk and the man growled something uncomplimentary as he swung at her in turn.

She dodged the full strength of the blow, but it still grazed her cheek with enough force to smart and make her stumble. So she punched him again. Then pivoted to drive her other elbow into his sternum hard enough she heard something crack. He dropped with a wheeze. Xaeryn barely paused long enough to collect her handbag and his knife before heading swiftly toward her office, face and hand pounding in time with her heart.

The hand was obvious; red oozing from her knuckles after landing two such hefty blows. She tugged out a handkerchief as she walked and wrapped her bleeding knuckles. She had a first aid kit, in her apartment, she could treat it properly there. This would do for now.

---

Her door had never been so welcome a sight, and Xaeryn let out a sigh of relief as she opened it.

Red sat slouched in one of the extra chairs by her bookshelf, bowtie undone and jacket off. His head came up as the door opened and he almost dropped the book he was reading when the state she was in registered. For half a second, Xaeryn thought he was going to vault the desk instead of circling it to reach her.

“Gods, Ryn, are you alright?!” he demanded, skirting the desk and reaching her in just a few long strides. He caught himself just before his hand grazed the bruise decorating her left cheek, and rested it on her shoulder instead.

“I’m fine,” she said, at the same moment his gaze dropped to the handkerchief wrapped around her hand, the white fabric a sharp contrast to her dark skin. “Mostly,” she amended with a weak smile. She pushed the door closed and set her clutch and the knife on the corner of the desk.

Red gave her a skeptical look, his other hand curling loosely around her wrist. “Do you have...?”

“In the kitchen,” she nodded toward the half-open door.

“Come on.” Red gently tugged her that direction, firmness in his voice that made her smile widen. He nudged one of the chairs out with his foot and let go of her arm only after he was sure she was settled, then dragged the other chair closer, dropping into it as he turned over her injured hand. “Let me see.”

“It’s not that bad,” Xaeryn mumbled, even as she winced at the cloth tugging against half-dried blood.

Red arched a brow at her, looked down significantly at her bloodied knuckles, and swallowed hard before he spoke. “What happened?”

“Oh, someone apparently doesn’t want me finding Solimer’s torch,” she said, trying for a light tone, but clearly falling short from his expression.

“Xaeryn,” he said softly.

Amazing how he could fit a whole lecture--no, that was uncharitable, a speech--into just her name. Red had always been a worrier. It shouldn’t surprise her. She supposed it didn’t, really. (Felt nice to be worried about, though.)

“I handled it,” Xaeryn promised, fingers curling as his thumb brushed the heel of her hand. She cleared her throat. “First aid supplies are top left cabinet. The green tin.”

He nodded, still staring at her hand, then tore his gaze away and stood to retrieve the supplies. “Right...”

“At least I don’t have to worry about you being able to reach them,” she teased as she watched him. It did make him smile, even if it didn’t reach his eyes.

Red set the tin on the table, shoved his sleeves up past his elbows and started pulling out what he needed to treat her hand. They sat in silence as he cleaned off half-dried blood, swabbed the skinned knuckles with antiseptic, bandaged it up. It wasn’t until he was smoothing the final layer of bandages and tucking in the end that he spoke. “So, planning to tell me what happened?”

Xaeryn shifted in the chair, kicking off her shoes, but made no move to pull her hand free. “There was a, ah, tough waiting for me outside the museum. He tried to stab me, so I did the only thing that made sense.”

“Called for help?” Red drawled, shooting her a fondly scolding look.

“Punched him in the face.” She coughed delicately. “Twice.”

“Xaeryn.”

She gave him a gentle smile as she reminded, “I can take care of myself, Liefred.”

He ran his thumb over her bandaged knuckles. “How many times will I have to remind you you can call me Red?” he asked softly, not letting go of her hand.

Xaeryn had to swallow hard before she could speak, staring at her hand cradled in his. “At least one more,” she said just as softly, then looked up, immediately caught in his deep green eyes. She hadn’t realized how close they were sitting until now, knees practically touching. “Or I might do something dreadfully improper.” That I won’t regret in the slightest.

Red bit his lip, hesitated as he leaned the barest fraction closer. His thumb brushed over the pulse point in her wrist as he murmured, “Like what?”

She flicked an inadvertent glance at his lips before dragging her gaze back up to meet his once more. “You’re a smart man. I think you can guess.”

“I-”

The heavy, carefree footsteps only gave them a half second’s warning before knuckles rapped wood and the office door creaked. “Red? Xaer? Hope you two are back with the door hanging open...”

Xaeryn flinched at the sound of Pan’s voice, wondered if she imagined the irritation-adjacent flicker in Red’s eyes, and cleared her throat. “In here, Pan.” She turned her hand to give Red’s a light squeeze before slipping free.

“Sorry I’m ahead of schedule, Neon has an early shift tomor-” Pan cut himself off when he reached the doorway and caught sight of them. “Gods’ blood, Ryn, what happened?!”

“Someone objects to my current investigation,” she said dryly. “There was a scuffle. But I’m fine, and you should see the other guy.”

Red shot her a suspicious look. “You just said you punched him in the face.”

“I also elbowed him in the chest hard enough I heard something break. On him, not me,” she clarified when he started to open his mouth.

Red dropped his head into his hands with a loud sigh, then raked his fingers through his hair.

Xaeryn and Pan shared a look that was just shy of a snicker.

“Least he won’t be following you any time soon,” Pan drawled, then smirked looking at how close the two of them were sitting. “And so fortuitous you had someone to help patch you up.”

Xaeryn bit her lip hard. “It would have been much trickier to do this one-handed, yes,” she said, flexing the fingers of her bandaged hand and hoping exhaustion overwhelmed any other emotion in her voice. “I’m lucky to have Liefred around.”

Red shrugged, the faintest hint of pink climbing his neck. “It wasn’t that hard, Ryn. I’m happy I could help.”

Pan’s smirk widened and he gestured back over his shoulder with one hand. “That knife on your desk come from the loser of your scuffle?”

Xaeryn nodded as she pushed to her feet. “Didn’t seem wise to leave a weapon nearby, even if he was in no shape to use it.”

Pan scoffed and moved out of the doorway so she could step back into the office, Red close enough behind her some might call it hovering. It was a long shot there would be anything helpful or identifying about the knife, but it couldn’t hurt to look. She hadn’t taken time to examine it yet, with the scuffle and the Red-patching-her-up moment.

She picked it up to do so now, and almost dropped it immediately in surprise.

“What’s wrong?” Red and Pan asked in unison, Red reaching out in support.

“This... is mine,” Xaeryn said slowly, trying to believe her goosebumps were from the coincidence and not his fingers brushing her elbow as she ran a more critical look over the dagger to confirm.

“How the hael is that possible?” Pan demanded, brow furrowed.

She winced in anticipation of Red’s reaction to the words. “My handbag got nicked a couple days ago-”

“Xaer-!”

She held up a hand to curtail Red’s outburst. “-and this is the dagger I carried in there for protection. We’ve been having a bit more trouble with dips and such spreading from Ashtown; I didn’t figure it was anything more than that. But now...” She scowled at the blade.

It was possible--but unlikely--the pickpocket who took her bag had dumped everything but the money and this thug found the knife and kept it. That, however, strained credulity for her.

“What else did you lose?” Red asked, leaning against her desk. He was doing a good job not fussing, she could see the strain of worry in his eyes.

“Little money, maybe a few incidentals.” She flashed a wry smile. “My notepad.”

His brows jumped toward his tousled hair. “You lost all your notes?!”

Xaeryn nodded. “I bought a new one, rewrote what I remember, but I know it’s not everything.”

He bit his lip in thought. “When we get back I can collect what I found for you, pass it along again?”

“I can’t ask-”

“You’re not, Ryn, I’m offering,” Red said firmly. He smiled and gave her elbow a light squeeze. “I only have one class tomorrow afternoon, and most of the books should still be close together. It would hardly be any trouble.”

She gave him a searching look, knowing he’d offer even if it was a lot of trouble. He met her look and held it steadily and she caved. “Liefred, you’re a lifesaver.” Again. I’m going to owe you so big. (But she wouldn’t. And she she knew it.)

Pan cleared his throat and they both jumped a little at the reminder he was still there. “On that note, I should probably get Mr. Lifesaver back to our hotel so we can get a good night’s sleep before heading home tomorrow.”

“Oh. Yes.” Xaeryn rubbed the back of her neck. “Wouldn’t want you falling asleep at the wheel.” She hesitated a moment, then, “You are planning to swing by before you leave, right?”

“Of course,” Red spoke up before Pan could, “we have to say proper goodbyes.”

Not to mention they had something to discuss.

“Of course,” Pan echoed, with just a hint of shit-eating grin as he clapped a hand to Red’s shoulder and started steering him toward the door. “G’night, Ryn. Glad you’re alright.”

She chuckled. “Me, too. Good night, Pan, good night, Liefred.”

He gave her a soft smile. “Night, Xaer.”

And then they were gone, and the full exhaustion of adrenaline letdown hit her in a rush. Xaeryn slumped against her desk and ran one hand down her face. “God, what a night,” she mumbled, then almost laughed when she noticed Red had forgotten his tuxedo jacket, still draped over a chair.

He can get it tomorrow, she rationalized, too tired to chase them down the stairs.

Tonight had been... eventful was underselling it, and she just wanted to sleep. She couldn’t stop a smile as she changed into her pajamas, despite lingering soreness. Xaeryn looked down at her bandaged hand, and a swirl of wall-cracking uncertainty cut through her high spirits.

I almost kissed my best friend, she thought as she tumbled into bed. She known tonight would be a test, but she thought she was stronger than that.

It only made things more confusing that he’d seemed ready to kiss her back.

But it was closing in on midnight, and she had a meeting tomorrow, so Xaeryn pushed those thoughts away so she could sleep.

Or tried to.

----

(TRUST ME, no one is more irritated about Pan interrupting them than Pan. xD He and Neon have been trying to very subtly play matchmakers for over a decade, he very much wants to smack himself right now xD but he’s also gonna tease Red like, a lot. bc what’re friends for?)

Lavinet’s companion is my Rhyler, who’s romancing her whenever I have time to pick him back up again rip

The song playing while they dance is Hold Me by Art Hickman & his orchestra, one of those “cribbed from the MFMM episode credits” songs I’ve been hanging onto xD

I’ve been sitting on that patching-up scene for so long oh my GOD I’m glad it’s out there now

#queens fic #shoh #xaeryn shrike #red antiqua #ryn/red

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queen-scribbles · 2 years

Photo

‘Member how I said I wanted an outfit sheet for Ryn from my @shepherds-of-haven 20′s AU? Yeah, I splurged on getting one from @commander-sarahs-art when she opened commissions and LOOK AT HER. 😍 She’s the bee’s knees.

#shoh #tlbt #xaeryn shrike #i love 20s fashion so muccchhhhhh #and y'all get a sneak peek at her dress for that gala :3 #assuming she gets up the nerve to ask red

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queen-scribbles · 6 months

Text

I have decided Ryn--canon and tLBT flavors--knows how to read lips. Since scrys(scries?) are silent, it makes sense she'd want to know what people are saying in them.

#queen rambles #xaeryn shrike

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queen-scribbles · 7 months

Note

5, 14, and 29 for ryn? and 10, 22, and 40 for your infamous MC! -em

Ryn

5. On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?

Dagger, notebook, pen or pencil. Extra hair clip. Some little trinket of Red's he left somewhere and she's planning to give it back. Money. Shepherd's medallion, sometimes. Nuts or some other easy/dry snacking food.

14. Does your character remember names or faces easier?

OH, names. She's pretty good with faces too, but all that reading and memorizing for school has her much, much better with names.

29. What did your character dream of being or doing as a child? Did that dream come true?

She wanted to be Evie O'Connell a librarian. An adventurer. A detective. She's to some degree gotten to do all that even in canon, so yes, at least to some extent her dreams came true. Even the one about being reunited with Red, which she was 100% convinced was a pipe dream she really needed to get over. :D

Bek

10. Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing?

Hmm, well, her favorite look is spaghetti strap top with (naturally ripped) bootcut jeans and flip flops/bare feet, so sort of both? I guess she leans more toward less clothes, but just a tad. She sleeps in just t-shirt + underwear unless it's really cold and is practically allergic to long sleeves so....¯\_(ツ)_/¯

22. What does your character like in other people?

Authenticity. Willingness to try new things, but also knowing where to draw their line they aren't comfortable crossing. Kindness, honesty. (I think this world might chew her up and spit her out. Or she'll just fall in love with the single dad playing groupie for his kid's sake)

40. How does your character treat people in service jobs?

With kindness and decency, unless they start shit/are rude first. Then she's a bit sharper and not afraid to push buttons.

Hard Mode OC Asks

#hard mode asks #xaeryn shrike #bek ayers

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queen-scribbles · 2 years

Text

The Long Burning Torch ch 5

I have vanquished the internet demons and finally bring you the next chapter of my @shepherds-of-haven 20s AU :D ----

After spending a few more minutes annoyed at her inability to talk to Red about the gala, Xaeryn managed to wrench her thoughts back to the case. There was still daylight, she had time to investigate the alleyway following up on what Ferrin had said. Just in case she wound up pushing toward evening, however, she opted to drive rather than walk. There’d been a few news articles recently about an uptick in pickpockets, and it wouldn’t do to make anyone worry.

There was, as luck would have it, a spot not far from the mouth of the alley, and she deftly maneuvered her car into the space between two much newer-model automobiles. Their gleaming black finish made hers look positively dingy by comparison but also brought to mind her tail from the last visit to the museum. Neither, however, had accents of any color, and she was equal parts disappointed and reassured as she headed for the alley.

She started at the entrance and worked in toward the gates, figuring she could continue down the other side if she came up empty. Part of her was cynical about finding anything so long after the fact, but the stubborn part--frustrated by her slow progress on this case--refused to give up without confirming. It didn’t look like this alley was cleaned all that often, maybe there was something useful.

Besides, it was a distraction from the other thing she needed to find--the nerve to ask Red about the gala. It was much more elusive quarry than anything case related.

What was so hard about asking him?

I don’t want to inconvenience him when he’s already doing so much for me.

You know he’d be happy to help, floated through her mind and only made matters worse.

Disrupting his schedule to travel all the way to Haven is a little different than turning him loose on a research project, she countered, nudging aside a tattered tarp with her shoe. Nothing.

He just told you he doesn’t have as much going in right now. And both of you would drop everything to help the other and you know it.

Alright, fine, I don’t trust myself. The fact sat solid in her chest as soon as she admitted it, brusquely poking around a stack of discarded pallets. I’m afraid if I ask him to do this, even if it is genuinely as a friend, I won’t be able to hide the way I feel under those circumstances.

It was a tricky thing, carrying a torch for your best friend. And delicacy had never been a strength of hers. She was all honesty and no varnish, too blunt-

Forthright, Red’s voice corrected gently in her head.

--too forthright to be good at playing games and she dreaded what might happen if Red picked up on something bothering her.

Well, your options are ask him or not go, so if you want to make progress on this case you better get ahold of yourself. You can do this. You are a professional, aren’t you?

Her foot hit something that skittered away with a clattery rasp, breaking through her internal debate. A keen glance after the object revealed only a rusting crowbar, and Xaeryn gave a soft growl of disappointment. Not far from the crowbar, however, something silver and promising glinted from a jumble of discarded paint cans and crate frames half-stacked into a shelter. She shifted the debris enough to reach and found herself holding a fine black leather sheath, dagger-sized, silver tipped and accented. A silver insignia at the top, opposite the beltloop, bore an unfamiliar crest--what looked like crossed lightning bolts or vines surmounted with a sword, or maybe a lance. It was difficult to tell at that scale.

She balanced the sheath on a nearby broken crate, pulled out her notebook and a pencil and took a rubbing of the crest. A quick shorthand annotation where she’d found it, and then she started to stash it all in her handbag. It would be a bit of a tight fit, but better than carrying her find where it would raise eyebrows.

Xaeryn paused just before slipping the sheath in her bag. She studied it again, catching her lower lip between her teeth. What if... A quick glance at the wall behind her to ensure it was relatively clean and she leaned against the stone while focusing hard on the small sheath. There might, if this belonged to the green-haired man, be enough trace of the owner left to Scry a clue.

The world fell away in a watery grey roil, clarifying into a scene almost as disorienting as the shift itself. The viewing angle was odd, a blur of motion off-center drawing her attention. It shifted into focus, resolving into a pair of figures mid-scuffle. One was a green-haired man, clothes decent but nondescript aside from currently being mussed by the fight, the other she couldn’t make out beyond a wild beard and the impression of ragged clothes. A street bum maybe? They tussled, each getting in a few good licks, there was a gleam of metal in their grappled hands, then one’s foot caught the sheath, sending it spinning toward its resting place and jolting Xaeryn out of the vision.

She teetered, slapping one hand to the wall for balance. After a few moments, her head cleared and she looked at the sheath clutched in her other hand. Now to figure out the heraldry, see if this clue could carry her even further.

“Finally, something solid to chase,” she muttered under her breath. It was a relief, like gaining purchase after trying to run on ice.

Satisfied she’d gleaned what she could from the sheath, Xaeryn slipped it into her handbag and continued searching to see if there was anything else. An hour or two combing the rest of the alley came up empty, but she didn’t mind terribly, not with the dagger sheath tucked in her purse. A flash of discordant color caught her eye as she passed the back gates again despite the lengthening shadows; a drip of red paint on the cobblestone and one metal gatepost. Dried, but not faded, so fairly recent.

Her thoughts went to what Ferrin had seen; the green-haired man trying to grab or touch one of the trucks. What if, rather, he’d been marking it somehow? Worth looking in to.

Two clues for the price of one. Should’ve given him more money, Xaeryn mused as she headed out to her car. She checked her watch. The library would be closing soon, not enough time for a proper research session. She could do that tomorrow. As well as making a couple phone calls.

Nerves fluttered in her gut, knowing what one of those needed to be. She took a deep breath and pushed them down. It was just Red. She could talk to Red. She did it all the time.

About this sort of thing? the skeptical thoughts broke in again.

Xaeryn ignored it, settling herself behind the wheel and starting the car. She could ask him about this. Hopefully without fumbling. It was just asking a favor of a friend, one she knew he’d be amenable to granting because he’d said as much.

So why wouldn’t the butterflies go away?

She shook her head to chase away the thought and headed back to her office. Today had been very productive. Whether it was further cowardice or simply pragmatism, she was done with... anything tied to the case for the night.

---

Xaeryn stared at the telephone as if it would bite her. The same internal debate that had kept her up half the night still raged in her head.

God’s blood, woman, just because you’re dizzy for the man... Call him. It’s for a case. Not like you’re asking him on an actual date or confessing your feelings or anything like that. Just asking for a favor. A slightly awkward favor, maybe, but just a favor.

Before she could talk herself out of it (again), Xaeryn snatched up the receiver and dialed Red’s office number. Maybe she’d get lucky and he wouldn’t be in, she could put it off-

“Hello?”

She fumbled a moment, trying to get her stuttered heart back in rhythm. “I... almost didn’t expect you to be in this early.”

“Ryn?” The surprise was clear in his voice.

“Mm-hm.” She shifted the receiver to her other hand and bit her lip. “There’s... I forgot to ask you something yesterday.”

“Oh.” Red still sounded off-kilter, but the usual warmth was creeping back into his voice. “It’s good you called, actually, I did-”

“More research?” Xaeryn guessed archly, laughing when his silence served as an answer. “Liefred, when do you sleep?”

“When I need to,” he said, which was... not the answer she wanted, but was the one she’d expected. “What did you want to ask?”

“It can keep a few minutes,” she said, happy to take a little longer plucking up the nerve. “What did you find in this research?”

He yawned, which made her smile and wonder if he’d been asleep at his desk. “Given the source is a book of legends, I’m not sure if this is truth, or hearsay, or a complete tall tale, but if someone believes it’s credible I guess that’s irrelevant b’cause it could still be motivation-”

“Liefred.” She couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll take anything you were kind enough to find me.”

A sheepish chuckle. “Just wanted you aware, so you can take it with the appropriate grains of salt. There’s supposedly, according to this legend, a ritual that at least the original tribe to find Solimer’s Torch used, that could... focus its general protection and good fortune on an individual for a short while. The scholar who recorded the tale wrote that her source claimed this ritual could make the subject... invincible. I’m not so sure about that part,” he admitted, voice straining briefly as if stretching. “Seems a bit far fetched. Focusing magic can be done, but a good luck charm making someone fully invincible is a bridge too far for me without more evidence.”

Xaeryn laughed softly. “Fair. But like you said; doesn’t matter if it’s actually true, all it takes is someone believing it is to become a reason they’d try to get their hands on it.”

“True,” Red said wryly, “though I wish them the best of luck getting it to work in that case. This book was buried in the dustiest corner of Solhadur’s library and it’s the only thing I’ve found that so much as mentions such a ritual. And even this only has vague descriptions of what’s involved, hardly point by point instructions to make it work.”

“Mmm. Can you tell me what it says, regardless? Never know what’ll be important.”

“See, this is why you always aced tests,” Red teased. “You write everything down.”

“Hence the shorthand,” she returned lightly. “You can fit more on a page and I was tired of spending a fortune on notebooks.”

“I figured it was something like that.” He rattled off what he had, and Xaeryn scribbled it all down with a note in the margin about the dubious veracity. “So, what did you want to ask me, Xaer?”

She’d completely forgotten the purpose of her call, chinning about history, and the reminder felt like being shoved off a cliff. “Oh. Right. Um.” Her gut twisted in a knot and she swallowed hard, pencil tapping rapidly against her knuckle as she scrambled for the best way to do this. “You remember mentioning the King of Elinden was going to be at a gala here in Haven, if I wanted to take the opportunity to talk to him?”

“Mm-hm.” The quiet grunt was laden with blatant curiosity. Of course he remembered, it had juts been yesterday.

“Well, Ms. Aescar, the current owner of Solimer’s Torch, is also going to be there.”

“Sounds like the perfect place for you to investigate; two for the price of one,” Red said. “But I don’t see what it has to do with me?”

“I need a date,” Xaeryn blurted, then fought the urge to bang her head against her desk because that was the wrong way round.

The dead silence on the line meant she’d caught Red more than a little off-guard with it, too.

“The Merchants Guild, well, Whitestone Couriers, can get me tickets to this gala, but it’s apparently unseemly to attend solo, so I... need a date. Since I’m not seeing anyone, I was... hoping you could come? It’s tomorrow night and I’m so sorry for asking last minute-”

“Of course I can,” Red cut her off, fondness in his voice. “Anything for you, Xaer, you know that.”

A strange mix of emotions she did not want to deal with blossomed in her chest, relief so sharp she could taste it. “You’re sure? Don’t you have classes or-”

“I’m sure. I can get other teachers to cover whatever needs it. The students will probably be happy to have someone who doesn’t veer off down rabbit trails every twenty minutes,” he said dryly, then cleared his throat. “And I told you it’s a lighter load right now, anyway. You said tomorrow night?”

“Mmhm. Starts at six.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Liefred, you’re a lifesaver,” Xaeryn said fervently. And I could kiss you.

“What’re friends for?” he countered warmly. “I’m happy to help.”

“Oh, and it’s, um, black tie, so you’ll need a suit,” she warned, her equilibrium coming back, then added teasingly, “assuming you still have one.”

“I’ll dig it out of mothballs,” Red retorted with a laugh. “See you tomorrow, Xaeryn.”

“Mm-hm. Thank you, truly.” Xaeryn bit her lip, more hovering just on the tip of her tongue. But the words stayed stuck as always, tangled on a decade’s absence, on things she’d left unsaid before. So she settled for another grateful hum of acknowledgement when he insisted it was no trouble, they exchanged farewells and hung up.

Xaeryn braced her elbows against the desk, rested her face in her hands, and let out a long sigh of relief. Thank the One-God that’s over with. It wasn’t really; she’d still have to get through him being here, seeing her office and home, keep her feelings tucked away through him accompanying her to this gala.

“If there’s dancing, I might not be strong enough,” she mumbled into the heels of her hands. But at least the asking part was behind her. She could call Ms. Aerin and confirm she had a companion, pass along the needed information. And she had a few new questions of her own, after the visit to the alley last night.

A couple deep breaths to truly regrasp her composure and she picked up the telephone again. This call would, at least, be much easier to make.

“Whitestone Couriers, how may I help you?” Ms. Aerin answered on the first ring.

“It’s Detective Shrike,” Xaeryn said, leaning back in her chair. “I was able to find a companion for the gala and wanted to give you the details you needed.”

There was a brief rustle on the other end, then, “Go ahead, Miss Shrike.”

Xaeryn gave her the names and titles to pass along to the museum. “I also followed a lead last night which bore fruit, along a couple branches, and raised some follow-up questions for you, if you have the time.”

“We aren’t busy yet,” Ms. Aerin confirmed. “Ask away.”

“First off, I assume after a completed delivery, all of the vehicles involved are returned to the garage for maintenance to make sure they’re in good working order?” Mr. Syndran seemed the type.

“Correct, standard procedure,” Ms. Aerin said briskly. “It’s the best way to catch minor issues before they turn into major ones. They are also cleaned, checked for heavier wear and tear, that sort of thing, before you ask.”

“That is where I was heading. Do you keep records of anything found and dealt with in this maintenance?” Xaeryn tapped her pencil against the notepad, absently doodling a bird in one corner of a page.

“Mm, Mr. Syndran insists on detailed reports. So if any vehicle is consistently having problems it can be replaced, and if any driver is repeatedly rough on their vehicle they can be reprimanded.”

“Do you have the records from the artefact delivery handy?” She added a tree below the doodled bird, telephone wedged between cheek and shoulder.

“Oh, yes. They haven’t been filed yet, they’re still on my desk.” A rustle of paper. “Are those the only ones you need?”

“Yes, I believe so. I’m just wondering about something from this trip, not comparing to previous ones.” Xaeryn shifted to hold the receiver. “Did any of the trucks have paint on them?”

“Mmm...” There was a pause as Ms. Aerin shuffled through the pages. “Yes, actually. Trucks one, four, and six all had green paint on their tires, wheel wells, running boards. Truck four also had some red streaked on the rear panel and tailgate,” she read off. “They said there was a painter’s truck that upset on one street. Is that helpful?”

“Very.” A buzz of anticipation had started at the back of her mind. “One other record I do need; do you have the manifest of which artefacts were on which trucks?”

“Not in front of me, but just a moment.” Ms. Aerin set the phone down with a soft clunk, there was a minute or two of silence--which Xaeryn filled with more doodling--and then, “Miss Shrike? The Torch was on truck four.”

Gotcha. Xaeryn grinned. “Thank you Ms. Aerin, you’ve been a tremendous help. I’ll see you tomorrow night at the gala?”

“If all goes well,” Ms. Aerin confirmed. “Goodbye, Miss Shrike.”

“Goodbye.” Xaeryn hung up and steepled her fingers. This lead was paying off so well, she might toss Ferrin another deucalion if she ever encountered him again. Although, she mused, I did have to chase him down to get it. Maybe we’re even.

For now, though, she had more work to do. And if she walked to enjoy the weather, the library would be open by the time she got there. She flipped back to the notebook page with the insignia rubbing to confirm it was clear enough she wouldn’t need to bring the actual sheath to research the design. Satisfied it was, she jiggled the drawer knob, then pushed to her feet to fetch a hat and head out.

---

The library was even quieter than normal this early, which made the argument the reference clerk wanted to have seem all the more asinine.

“Why can’t I see those books?” Xaeryn demanded in a harsh whisper. “I don’t even need to take them out of the building, I’m quite happy to do my research right here.”

“It has recently become a trend among the youths and miscreants of the city to... deface our books,” the clerk replied stiffly, adjusting one sleeve so the cuff was straight.

“Do I look like either of those things?!” Xaeryn hissed.

She didn’t miss the look the clerk flicked at her illadrin-glow. “Irrelevant, as the time and funds spent repairing or replacing books has led to the decision against lending out some of our more vital or venerable texts unless an acceptable reason can be given.”

“I need them to do research for a case,” she said with a huff, just barely holding back the you twit she wanted to stick on the end. She wasn’t going to pass this off on Red, too, she wasn’t. He’d already gone above and beyond and this was simple enough to do herself. Or so she’d thought.

The clerk arched a brow. “You hardly look like you belong to the police force, miss. And they have their own records, anyway.”

With an exasperated sigh, Xaeryn pulled out her ID and PI license. She fanned them out to display. “Freelance detective, not police. May I please use the reference books to work on my case? I’ll sit right where you can see me if I really have to.”

After a narrow-eyed look at the cards, the clerk sighed and relented. “Very well. I’ll bring them out, you take a seat.”

“Thank you,” Xaeryn muttered, shoving the cards in her skirt pocket for easy access in case anyone else gave her trouble. She understood and even endorsed caution in caring for books, but these lengths struck her as a little screwy.

It only took a few minutes for the clerk to wheel out a small cart half-full of thick tomes, leave it beside her table, and retreat behind the circulation desk. Xaeryn wasn’t fooled; she would be under scrutiny the entire time she had these books. The sensation of being watched was not going to help with doing this quickly.

She sighed, pulled out the reference books, and tried to ignore the eyes-on-her-back feeling as she dug into her research. It didn’t take long before she was surrounded by an array of opened books; flipping pages to cross-check information, scribbling notes as she read. The hours flew by, and she barely noticed when the original clerk was replaced by a young woman with white blonde hair in an unseasonably warm sweater. (She only noticed at all because the woman asked brusquely if she needed anything, which Xaeryn met with an equally brusque assurance she didn’t, not even looking up from her book.) The books were very informative, perhaps too much so. There were at least fifteen countries, city-states, or sects with lighting in their heraldry. Dozens, both archaic and contemporary, with a line or weapon of some sort surmounted over lightning or vines or the like. She finally narrowed it down to a half dozen with heraldry that was close match to the rubbing she’d taken of the sheath’s insignia. Two of them belonged to factions currently embroiled in the conflict on Elinden; the current king--Kaza; more of a warlord, if she was reading right--and his strongest contender. She wondered briefly if that made clashes between them confusing as she neatly stacked the books on the edge of the table near the cart. She knew how librarians were about shelving books. She stowed her notepad in her handbag and approached the circulation desk.

The blonde still seated there raised disinterested lilac eyes and arched a brow.

“Just wanted to let you know I’m finished,” Xaeryn said. “So someone can reshelve the books.”

“Sure,” said the blonde with barely a glance at the table. “Have a good day.”

“You as well,” Xaeryn replied, despite the farewell lacking any warmth and sounding more rote than genuine. She mulled over what she had found on the walk home. Too many threads were tying to Elinden for it to be a coincidence. The island’s distance from Haven--and insular focus on a four-way civil war--would explain why it had taken so long to arise as a possibility. There was also, she mused, a high concentration of Mages among the populace, which would increase the odds of unusual hair colors. Like green. She really needed to find a way to talk to the king at the gala, and maybe some of his retinue as well, if she could swing it.

Xaeryn was so lost in thought as she approached her street, the sudden, harsh yank against her handbag caught her completely off-guard. She still instinctively curled her arm in to hold on to it, but the thief had too much leverage with the element of surprise on his side, and she lost her grip.

She lunged after the bolting figure, noting what she could of his appearance as he dodged around a corner. Xaeryn was trailing by just enough that when she rounded the corner he had disappeared from sight.

“Dammit,” she growled, scuffing one shoe against the walk. She ventured a short way down the alley, but with no dagger--it had been in her bag--she didn’t press too far.

She made her way up to her office, mentally scolding herself for her distraction the whole way. She knew there were pickpockets and purse-snatchers in the neighborhood. There was worse, too, though that, fortunately, was still rare. It was still not a good idea for her to have been paying so little attention.

When she reached her door, Xaeryn sent a small prayer of thanks to the One-God that caution had paid off in one respect and withdrew the office key on its chain around her neck, clinking softly against the one for her desk. Bordering a dodgy neighborhood as she did, it was prudent to keep her keys safe from said pickpockets. Just in case. She entered, checked the sigil--no sign of further attempts to enter--and removed her hat before sitting at the desk to take stock of what she’d lost.

Pocket change--a couple deucalions and a handful of lyss--she wouldn’t miss too terribly, a plain but serviceable dagger about which she could say the same-- and her notebook. Her ID and PI license were, thank God, still in her skirt pocket, and she set them on the desk with a small sigh of relief. They would have been a pain to get reissued.

But her notebook. All of her notes, all of the interviews, all the info Red had found for her. All gone. And to someone who would like as not throw it away.

It was a bad day for her and the thief both, Xaeryn reflected, unless he had been in the market for a dagger. Not much money, and the notebook was worthless to anyone but her as they wouldn’t be able to read it. But to her it was hours or work, pertinent information, ripped away just when she needed it most.

With a much heavier sigh, she pulled out a sheet of paper and started rapidly recording everything she remembered from the library. Best to start with what was freshest, and she could try for other things after that.

---

She wrote until her hand cramped, then a little bit more before reluctantly coming to halt. She also jotted down and roughly sketched what she’d caught of the thief’s features. But there was a reason she usually doodled nature rather than people and this was a reminder why.

Xaeryn tucked the pages she’d filled in the desk drawer with the photographs and sheath and locked it. With research and other excitement out of the way, and her entry to the museum gala confirmed, there was another matter that required tending to, much as she dreaded the thought.

She needed an evening gown.

---

The rest of the day passed uneventfully; the tedium of shopping and then some more time spent reconstructing notes from interviews and such. Trying to ignore the steadily building flutter in her gut at the thought of what tomorrow held.

One-God only knew how she slept that night, but she did. Xaeryn very pointedly did not look at the garment bag protecting her evening attire as she dressed. That was for later, now she pulled on her favorite blouse--blue with white and green embroidery at the collar--and wide-legged trousers. The day was spent copying her sloppily scribbled notes into a new red-bound notepad that had been one of her purchases yesterday for clarity’s sake. She did a little more poking around the museum, but they were starting to increase security for the gala and she didn’t want to draw suspicion, as that might complicate her entry to the gala later.

Really, there wasn’t much to do until she could interview Ms. Aescar and the King of Elinden, which left her at loose ends. Xaeryn hated that feeling with a passion on normal days, today was even worse.

She cleaned her kitchen--something she’d been meaning to do, anyway, and a good way to fill the time--then tried to read a book. But even Tarquin the Elder’s grandiose theories weren’t enough to hold her focus today, and she was almost relieved when a knock on the door interrupted her eighth time through the same two pages.

She marked her spot and hurried across the room, glancing at the clock as she went. If this was a client, she hoped they were succinct. Red would be here--

She opened the door.

---now. She blinked. “Liefred.”

He smiled, warm with only a hint of hesitation. “Xaer. Don’t tell me I spoke to a very clever imposter on the phone and this is an unexpected visit.”

Xaeryn laughed, the moment’s teasing enough time to gather her wits. “Unexpected, no. Earlier than expected, yes,” she admitted.

Red’s smile went sheepish and he ran one hand through his hair. “Yes, sorry. We may have overestimated how long the drive in would take.” He gestured to a familiar figure behind him in the hall.

“We nothin’,” Pan laughed. “That was all you, Liefred. Ryn, good to see you.” He held out a hand to shake in greeting.

Xaeryn did so with alacrity. “And you, Pan. Though I am surprised” --turned back to Red as she motioned the pair into her office-- “you didn’t just translocate.”

“Not a good idea with an unfamiliar city this size,” he said, running a curious eye over the room and its furnishing as he spoke. “Especially one so developed. The odds are too high of ending up on a roof or halfway through a wall, or somewhere you shouldn’t be, that sort of thing.”

She grinned and half-sat on the edge of her desk. “Why does that last one sound like the voice of experience?”

Red coughed, ears coloring to match his hair at her teasing tone. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

Pan nodded broadly behind his back, mouthing ‘Tell you later’, which made her snicker.

Red ignored the exchange. “And, anyway, it didn’t seem worth the bother when I have a friend with a car.”

“And I thought it would be a good chance to see a couple of old pals,” Pan continued, leaning against the wall. “You, of course, and Neon apparently got himself a job with a Mage company that specializes in Enchantment and Binding; I was gonna see if I could track him down and surprise him.”

“Neon’s in Haven?” Xaeryn said, brows arching. She wished she’d known.

“At least a few months now,” Pan nodded. “You didn’t know?”

“It’s a big city,” she sighed, shrugging. “And I hadn’t been in touch with anyone from Solhadur for a decade until recently.” She almost thought she saw Pan smirk when her gaze drifted to Red. But it was gone a moment later and she chalked it up to imagination. “So I assume that’s what you’ll be up to while we’re busy tonight?”

“Yep. And if it doesn’t work out, well,” Pan shrugged, “I’m sure there’s plenty to do, either out and about or back at our hotel.”

“The Quarters’ Rest,” Red volunteered before she could ask. “I figured the gala will run late, they usually do. So we can just sleep here and worry about getting back to Capra in the morning.”

“Smart thinking,” Xaeryn said. It was a good hotel; decent, clean, and modest enough it had escaped being booked up by the visiting wealthy. She bit her lip in thought. “It’ll be good to have the time at the gala; you never know how much conversation it’ll take someone to loosen up. And it gives you somewhere to relax, with a bit of elbow room when it’s time to change. On that topic” --she braced a hand against her desk and smiled at Red’s examination of her bookshelf-- “should we meet at the hotel to head over, or do you want to meet here? This is a bit closer, and if the weather holds we may even be able to walk. If it doesn’t, I have a car.”

“Let’s say here,” Pan suggested before Red even opened his mouth. “I can drop him off before I go hunt down Neon, pick him up again at, what, midnight?”

“That works for me,” Red agreed. “Ryn?”

“Cat’s meow,” Xaeryn confirmed. She drummed her fingers against the desk. “Be here at twenty of six so we have time if we walk, then we’ll aim to return at midnight.”

Red and Pan both nodded.

“We should go check in, get settled,” Pan said, pushing away from the wall. “Xaer, again, good to see you.”

“You didn’t do that first?” She hoped no one had bothered their luggage, sitting on the street unattended. Not a worry that would usually occur, bit with that dip snatching her purse yesterday...

“Somebody” --a significant look at Red-- “insisted you be our first stop.” He grinned and headed out the door.

“I wanted to make sure you knew we were here,” Red said with a one-shoulder shrug.

“Telephones exist, Liefred,” Xaeryn said dryly, but couldn’t help a smile. (Or deny her heart skipping a beat.)

One he returned with mischief in his eyes. “I also confess to curiosity about your office. Since you’ve gotten to see mine twice, it seemed fair,” he teased, then cast an approving look around the space. “You’ve made a nice niche for yourself here, Xaer.”

Xaeryn’s smile widened and she fought down the flutter in her gut. “Thank you. I quite like it myself.”

“It suits you,” he said warmly, turning toward the door. “I shouldn’t keep him waiting...”

“Of course. See you later.”

“Twenty of six,” Red confirmed with a nod, giving her arm a friendly squeeze on his way to the door. “I won’t be late.”

---

He wasn’t late. There was a small part of Xaeryn that wondered how much credit belonged to Pan for that and how much had been Red remembering the time on his own.

Any teasing she’d been contemplating to that effect, however, was precluded by the matching low whistles from Pan and Red when she opened the door.

“Guess that answers the question of if I look presentable,” she laughed instead, face and neck warming. It had been a very long time since she dressed up, and never this fancy. Or maybe that heat was from Red in a tuxedo.

“I think presentable is, uh, underselling it,” he fumbled, and the flutter growing in her chest got stronger.

“Yeah, I thought you gumshoes worked best with a low profile,” Pan chuckled. “Gorgeous dame walking in with glad rags like that, your profile’ll be anything but low, Ryn.”

“Thank you, but I think you underestimate the quality of people who attend these sorts of shindigs,” Xaeryn demurred. Regardless, she couldn’t fight a pleased smile as she ran a hand down the shimmering deep-blue evening gown, playing briefly with the long silver-tasseled necklace that matched the sparkling headband nestled among her hair. She turned to Red, smiling--unsteadily, but hopefully he missed that part--as she ran another look over his ensemble. “Fortunately, I do believe we’ll fit right in. You’re looking very handsome, quite a bit beyond presentable yourself.”

And despite the joke about digging his tuxedo out of mothballs, it fit like it had been tailored that day. The deep black and crisp white shirt were a flattering contrast to his tan skin, and Xaeryn feared distraction would be a bigger problem for her than subtlety tonight.

Red laughed and glanced out the window. “Thanks.”

“Though I see your hair’s up to old tricks,” she said fondly, throat dry around the words. She stepped closer, praying her pounding heart wasn’t too obvious, and gently ran her fingers through his hair to comb it back into place.

Red went still, a soft laugh escaping as she finished. “Thank you. It seems no matter what I try to tame it, it maintains a mind of its own.”

“Persistence is key, I suppose,” Xaeryn said with a wry and somewhat shaky laugh of her own. God’s eyes, I don’t know if I can do this.... One last smoothing of wayward red strands and she withdrew. “There-”

Red’s hand brushed her ear and it was her turn to freeze, heart in her throat.

“Your, ah, earring is crooked,” he said by way of explanation, gently nudging the jewelry into a proper position.

“Oh, thank you,” she said, watching a muscle in his jaw twitch in time with her heart skipping a beat. Her fingers grazed his when she instinctively reached for the earring as well, even knowing he’d taken care of it.

“So,” Pan spoke up, and Xaeryn couldn’t suppress a flinch at the reminder of his presence, “midnight’s a good time for me to come back?”

Xaeryn cleared her throat. His tone might be casual, but they’d been friends too long for her to miss the mischief in his eyes and it made her nervous. “Yes,” she replied, hoping she had enough composure to sound just as casual. “That should give plenty of time for me to have my conversations, perhaps do some other investigating, if warranted...”

“Don’t forget time for mingling and dancing if they have it,” Pan pointed out, grinning now as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “So you don’t blow your cover.”

Who’s the detective here? She bit back the retort with some effort, pulse fluttering at the thought, and restrained herself to a, “Yes, of course. If we happen to not be back yet when you get here, you can go have fun for another hour or go back to your hotel and we’ll call when we make it back.”

“Right.” His grin widened. “I’ll see you later, then, pals. Try not to have too much fun.”

“He’s knows we’re going to a museum, right?” Red muttered, and she huffed a quiet laugh. The location was tailor-made for them to have too much fun.

“This is business,” Xaeryn returned primly, slipping her arm through Red’s like a proper aristocratic couple. “And unlike some, we know how to behave ourselves.”

Pan laughed--“Touche”--and pulled the door closed behind him.

“So...” Red began, looking down at their linked arms.

“So...” Xaeryn echoed, trying valiantly not to let the warmth soaking through his suit jacket distract her. “I know I mentioned walking, and it would normally be my preference, in all honesty. But I was thinking about it, and for an event like this it might raise eyebrows if we arrive on foot. We should probably take my car.”

“Mm, good thought,” he said, making no move to slip his arm free of hers even if they were still just standing in her office. “Aren’t you worried about it getting damaged?”

“Not particularly. Events like this typically have valets, who tend to be careful, given the consequences of mishandling a patron’s automobile. Besides, while mine is nice enough to not be an eyesore, it isn’t so nice I’ll be distraught over a few dings.”

“Practical and pragmatic as ever,” Red teased, lightly elbowing her in the ribs.

“It’s part of my charm,” Xaeryn rejoined just as lightly, not wanting to ruin the moment by admitting the opposite usually proved true. People tended to be off-put by her manner almost as much as her magic.

Red chuckled. “Well, since we don’t need the time to walk over, are we having a chat here, or just going to arrive unfashionably early? This is your show, Ryn, I’m just here to help out.”

“If we go at a mosey we won’t be terribly early,” she said, even if she quite liked the thought of bumping gums with him in her office for a bit. “And it might be good if I can get a slant on people as they arrive.” Just because her clues were pointing to Elinden didn’t mean she was closed to other options.

“If that’s best for you,” he said easily, bumping his shoulder to hers.

Her heart fluttered and Xaeryn bit back a smile. “Just let me get my purse.” The small grey clutch barely had room for her keys, notepad, and a compact in case she needed to freshen her minimal makeup--either in truth or as a ploy to snoop. But it was the most she felt she could get away with for an event like this, and the blue and white beading was an excellent complement to her dress. She returned to link her arm through Red’s once more. “Shall we, Headmaster?”

“We shall, Miss Shrike,” Red answered with one of his dazzling smiles, and they headed out the door.

God help her.

#queens fic #shoh #tlbt #xaeryn shrike #red antiqua #panrachus #ryn/red #these two are gonna be the death of me #fancy party pining let's goooooooo

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queen-scribbles · 2 years

Text

The Long Burning Torch ch 4

FINALLY, another chapter in the @shepherds-of-haven 20′s AU, I think the last one was in September? which, eeesh.

----

For once in her life, the time differences across Blest worked in Xaeryn’s favor. Jalis was far enough ahead of Haven she could call at what would be an almost unconscionably early hour local time and it was late morning on the receiving end. She thumbed absently through her notes as she listened to the ringing line.

“Aescar residence,” a neutral-toned, lightly accented woman answered after the fifth ring. “How may I help?”

“I was trying to reach Ms. Aescar. My name’s Xaeryn Shrike and I wanted to speak to her regarding the Solimer’s Torch pendent she contributed to the Artefacts of Blest exhibit.”

“And which newspaper do you work for….?” the woman’s tone had shifted cautious rather than neutral.

“Oh, none, my apologies,” Xaeryn twiddled a pencil between her fingers. “I should have been clearer– I’m not a newshawk, I’m a private detective.”

“Ah.” The lone syllable held markedly less suspicion. “Are you trying to learn who might have taken it by talking to Miss Ayla?”

“Yes. So she has been informed of its disappearance? I was led to believe there was some uncertainty in that regard.” Xaeryn doodled a mountain range in the corner of a page.

“The estate was informed,” the woman said, with good humor and unmistakably fond exasperation. “Miss Ayla’s off on one of her jaunts and we haven’t heard from her in over a week. Unless rumors have started spreading, she probably doesn’t know yet.”

Nuts. “So she isn’t there? Do you know when she’ll be back?”

“No, these trips rarely have a firm itinerary.” A pause. “If you’re investigating this, would you be in Haven?”

“I would, Miss...?” She paused mid-cloud doodle.

“Marja. The last time time I talked to Miss Ayla, she mentioned your museum holding some party for the people who contributed to this exhibit, items or financially. She said she might go, if she’s close enough by the date. Surprised me; fancy parties aren’t usually something she enjoys, but that would be a chance for you to chat her up if she shows.”

“Understood.” Xaeryn bit her lip. She’d have to ask Mr. Syndran or Shery about this party. “Thank you for your help, Miss Marja. If by some chance Ms. Aescar checks in with the estate in the next day or so, could you have her call me?” She rattled off her information, confirmed when Marja repeated it back. “Thank you again, have a good rest of your day.”

“You, too, Miss Shrike. Hope you get to talk to Miss Ayla.”

“As do I,” Xaeryn said wryly. “Goodbye.”

They both hung up at the same time, and Xaeryn stared out the window for a moment before calling Mr. Syndran’s office to ask about this party. She got Ms. Aerin, as expected, who explained about the Owners’ Gala (not just a ‘party’) and said she would see about getting Xaeryn in, but it was in just a couple days and last minute additions were sometimes tricky.

“I’ll call back later to see how it goes?” Xaeryn offered. “I have other leads to chase so I’ll be out most of the day.”

“That’s amenable,” Ms. Aerin confirmed. “Good day, Miss Shrike.”

Xaeryn dropped the phone back in the cradle and pushed to her feet. She needed more comfortable shoes, then it was time to hit the bricks for some real sleuthing.

---

It was a running, darkly-humored joke among the citizens of Haven that the city customs were a prototype or test run for part of Hael that lingered on in Blest. Long lines, overwhelmingly noisy and chaotic, high chance of a rude and condescending agent all too aware of the power they held over you... it was as if Taypt himself was in charge of the planning. Xaeryn knew the reason was more along the lines of Haven’s original planners not expecting their city to explode into being a major trade hub, let alone the de facto center of the known world. They hadn’t designed the city gates with the current level of traffic in mind, and had been so focused on marrying security to aesthetic, it would be a (very expensive) pain in the neck to overhaul them for the current needs.

Understanding the factors behind the circumstances didn’t make the interminable wait to get out of the city any less annoying. And getting back in would be worse--despite being a resident. Five seconds of face time with an agent who would skim her ID after an hour or more in line was almost injury added to injury. And the local travel line was shorter than for other territories. Finally, though, her turn came up to show her ID to a very bored-looking customs agent.

He barely looked at it. “Reason for leaving the city?” he droned, faint edge of street twang still clinging to the words.

“Investigating a case,” Xaeryn said, adding her PI License next to the ID.

He cocked a brow, now marginally more interested. “Sleuthin’ for the coppers or yourself?”

“Privately employed,” she answered crisply, tapping the word private on the license for emphasis.

“Think you’ll be out there long?” He slid both back across the counter.

“Hard to say,” she hedged, tucking both cards back in her handbag. “Could be an hour, could be most of the day, there’s really no way to tell.”

“Fair point,” the customs man said with a nod. “You’re good to go.”

Xaeryn nodded her thanks and headed for the patchworked shantytown that had grown up around the caravansary. It was mostly flophouses, a few rough-run stores and taverns for guards who didn’t feel like enduring the hassle of customs when they weren’t staying long before heading out with a new job. The sort of place that was generally unfriendly to lone visitors or upper class. Given she’d be considered both by the skells who populated the quasi-district, Xaeryn made sure to keep a close eye on her surroundings, note anyone who seemed to be paying her undue attention. If Red flipped his lid about her visit to Ashtown, she didn’t want to think about how much worse he’d worry if he knew where she was now. She had her knife and her wits, and those two in concert had gotten her out of many a scrape.

The watery mud that coated the ground made her glad she’d settled on trousers, though the wide cuffs did still swing perilously close to a puddle as she stopped to get her bearings. The flophouse behind her bore the moniker Zozzle, as if the owners couldn’t be bothered to come up with something better. It was also a fair description of most of its inhabitants, if the heady haze of alcohol permeating the air was any indication.

Xaeryn had been in this particular establishment once before for a case. Nothing seemed changed from then. She wondered if the proprietor would remember her. She gave her hat brim a slight tug and headed through the door, braced for even more pungent an atmosphere inside. It did not disappoint. She had to swallow hard to keep from tasting her breakfast again.

Once her eyes adjusted to indoor lighting after the sunny day, the first thing she noticed was the unfamiliar man behind the counter.

New management, then. Xaeryn sighed as she strode across the room. So much for any hope of familiarity breeding civility. Faint a hope as it had been.

The man gave her an unimpressed look from under a mop of shaggy dark blond hair. “Think you’re in the wrong place, gal.”

“I don’t,” Xaeryn countered with a tight smile. “I was wondering if any of your... regulars” --she glanced meaningfully at the cluster playing cards over by the window-- “picked up any extra work recently?”

He crossed his arms and sized her up. “What’s it to ya?”

Xaeryn didn’t flinch from holding his gaze. “I’m looking into some funny business concerning a caravan and thought if anyone here hired on as extra muscle they might have seen something regular couriers missed.” She arched a brow. “I’m familiar enough with the life to know the reflexes you hone.”

He scowled and scoffed in outright skepticism. “Pull the other’n. You?”

“I moonlighted as a caravan guard a couple years before the switch to sleuthing and hanging a shingle here.”

He snorted again, though his posture relaxed a fraction. “Haven’s a good place for that, doll.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re workin’ for yourself, then? You ain’t one of the buttons?”

She shook her head. “My client is, in fact, trying to keep the matter away from the police entirely, if we can. Professional reputations and all.”

He nodded, thought a moment. “Ferrin and Tala are th’ only two’ve mentioned extra work, some swanky courier service headin’ into the city, but if you’re feelin’ brave” --he gestured to the card players-- “Y’ can see what they give ya.”

“And the two you mentioned?”

“Haven’t seen Ferrin for a couple days, come to think of it. Tala I know headed out yesterday; caravan bound for Capra or Caprona, somethin’ like that.”

Damn. Xaeryn bit the inside of her cheek. “Thank you for the help, sir.” She fished out a handful of lyss and set them on the counter. “For your time.”

There were three missing teeth in his grin. “One-God’s blessin’ on ya, miss. Best a’ luck.”

“Thank you,” Xaeryn said as she headed for the table. She had a feeling she would need blessing and luck both.

That feeling proved correct; the card players weren’t able--or willing--to give her much. Just enough to make her confident Tala and Ferrin had worked for Whitestone Couriers and confirm Tala was off guarding a caravan. They hadn’t seen Ferrin, were cagey about why that might be or where she could find him.

If they thought the prospect of walking the streets would put her off, they had another think coming. Xaeryn thanked them for their time and headed back out to the streets. Where to start looking when she only had the vaguest description and no concrete hangouts to check...

After a few minutes deliberation, she turned to head a couple lanes over. There was a tavern, The Burnt Crown if memory served, that was generally popular with the denizens of this town. This time of day, it likely wouldn’t be too busy, but you never knew for sure around the caravansary.

---

The Burnt Crown was moderately busy, and as luck would have it, Xaeryn even found an acquaintance of Ferrin’s whose tongue was easily loosened by a couple deucalions.

“Why, ‘zactly, are you lookin’ for him?” the ash-haired man queried, thumping his third now-empty tankard down on the table. It tottered slightly from the force.

“I think he may’ve seen something that could help me solve a robbery,” she replied. “Just wanted to jaw a bit about his last few jobs, is all.”

Drunk as he was, Ash-hair gave her a keen look. “Oh, that’s all? His room’s at Zozzle, usually he likes to drink here like the rest of us, an’ I think he’s sweet on Nella.” He jerked his head toward the barmaid. “Doesn’t tend to stray far with his drinkin’. If you can track down one of them bettin’ rings folks ain’t supposed to run, might find him there.” He tapped the side of his nose and gave her a look. “But I dunno where you might find one a’ those, an’ ya didn’t hear it from me.”

“Mmhm.” Xaeryn sucked the inside of her cheek and arched a brow.

“Hand t’ the High Augar, sister. Chance and me ain’t never had a good enough relationship for me to tempt it like that, or I’d do better’n this for a livin’.”

Have to give him that. “Well, if you don’t personally know where these games occur, can you at least point me toward someone who does?”

Ash-hair nodded toward the barmaid again. “Part of why Ferrin’s stuck on her.”

Xaeryn thanked him, slid over a few more danar-- “next round’s on me” --and went to chat up Nella the barmaid.

---

Aside from Nella, it took three more chats and two more bribes to get a solid handle on where she’d likely find Ferrin. Her handbag was feeling mighty light as she headed for the caravansary corner furthest from Haven’s gates. Xaeryn sent up a prayer there wasn’t any kind of door fee for this game.

Something rustled down an alley adjacent to the house she sought, and Xaeryn unfastened the clasp on her handbag. The murmur of voices in exasperated debate reached her and she slipped a hand in the bag as she altered course to investigate.

The conversation hitched, quieted, and died with the change to her pace. She drew out her stiletto knife and approached the alley cautiously but deliberately, the blade held down out of sight. She reached the mouth of the alley, swung around the corner--

And found herself herself staring down the barrel of not one but two pistols.

One of which lowered immediately, as the blue-eyed blond wielding it ran an amiable if surprised look over her and commented with a grin, “You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

Xaeryn matched his rapid examination--still very aware of the pistol his copper-haired companion had aimed at her chest--and arched a brow. “Nor do you.”

He and the other three clustered in the alley all wore uniforms that made them stick out even more than she did with her tailored clothes, silver hound threaded on a black jacket, well-fitted trousers tucked into their boots so they weren’t fussed about the mud like she was. Their openly carried weapons had likely kept anyone from making trouble for them. Even if they had their badges tucked away, she couldn’t help wondering...

“What are Shepherds doing out here?”

“Cult huntin’,” the blond answered easily, though there was a hard edge to his smile.

“Trouble,” the dark haired man behind him barked, eying Xaeryn with open suspicion.

“What?” the blond(Trouble? Was that a nickname? an alias? How apt was it?) swung around, half-shrugging as he holstered his pistol and gestured in her direction. “Given who we’re lookin’ for, I’m pretty sure she ain’t involved.”

The copper-haired woman’s lips twitched toward a smile and she lowered her gun as well. Xaeryn caught the white streak in her braid as she flipped it over her shoulder. Hunter-blooded, but only in part, then. She’d heard the Shepherds took anyone worthy, regardless of heritage. Apparently that was more than rumor.

“He’s got a point, Blade,” the silver-haired woman even further back chipped in, tugging a loose curl as she sauntered closer to her compatriots. There was something familiar about her, but Xaeryn couldn’t put her finger on it. “Every member we’ve fingered so far was an underbelly or fringe type. Which doesn’t seem to fit our... new friend here.”

Xaeryn flicked imagined mud off her jacket at the comment. “And you think this cult is just... lurking down alleyways in disreputable districts?”

“Yeah, that has been how they operate sometimes,” Trouble replied, unruffled by her skeptical tone.

“And what are you doing out here, since you don’t exactly blend in yourself?” the one called Blade interjected sharply before she could ask anything more.

“Investigating as well, though I’m just looking for a thief, or someone who may have seen them. You haven’t happened to see a rangy fellow, light brown hair, one cloudy eye with a scar through it, have you?”

The four exchanged looks, all shaking their heads.

“Your thief?” the silver-haired woman asked.

“More likely a possible witness,” Xaeryn hedged, shifting her weight to one hip. Where did she know this woman from? She was usually so good with faces. “But I’m not ruling anything out too hastily.”

“A wise outlook,” Blade commented. “Best of luck with your search.”

She knew a dismissal when she heard one, and this bull session wasn’t accomplishing anything beyond chewing time anyway, for either of them. “You as well; good luck rooting out your cult.”

Trouble snorted a laugh, but that hard edge lingered on his expression. “Thanks. Think we’re done here, so the alley’s all yours if you need it.” A glance at Blade to confirm and then he nudged the copper-haired Hunter with his elbow. “Time to breeze, an’ it looks like you own me a lyss, Trick.”

Xaeryn stood aside to let the quartet depart, vaguely curious what wager he’d just won as the Hunter snorted and dug the money out of her pocket. She waited until the Shepherds had moved out of sight, then knocked on the door of the house.

There was no answer, but the scrape of wood on stone inside kept her confident this was the right place. She repeated the knock, a curious, rapid trio of taps that was the result of her second bribe. Supposedly the way in.

A few more heartbeats, then the door opened a crack. Light glinted off the sole visible eye of the individual who opened it, the gruff ‘help you?’ followed almost immediately by a snort as he noted her wardrobe. The door started to close, but Xaeryn stuck arm and foot both in the narrow gap.

“I’m looking for the game,” she said before the grubby man inside could react.

“Piss off, doll, wrong house,” he retorted, one hand still shoving the door as the other dropped to his hip.

A rough cheer went up behind him.

Xaeryn gave a tight smile. “Should we try that again, sir? I’m not looking to make trouble, and don’t intend to stay long, either.”

He dilly dallied, studying her closely for several long moments. “Who gave us up?”

“That would be telling,” Xaeryn said sweetly.

He grunted. “Least you can keep a secret.” He stepped back to let her in. “Start trouble an’ you’re out on your ass, lady or no, savvy?”

“Savvy.” She caught the flicker in his eyes when the dim light made her iladrin obvious, but he didn’t back down with that knowledge. Made her wonder if they’d had Mages in here before. She tucked her handbag firmly under her arm and stepped into the house.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, and when they did, she could see three rooms, each with its own game going under the light of guttering lanterns. She tugged on her jacket to straighten it and headed for the nearest game--something with dice and obscenely high stakes if the pile of coins and trinkets in between the two players was anything to go by. Xaeryn ran a casual but careful look around the room, irritated by the flickering shadows that made the task harder. Neither of the players, nor the small crowd huddled around them to goad and cheer and wait their own turns bore any resemblance to the man she sough. She watched a moment, as a trio of dice skittered across the table. The green-haired woman who’d thrown them barked a triumphant laugh, while her opponent, a dark-skinned man with a shaved head, swore viciously.

Xaeryn moved on to survey the other two games, but didn’t find Ferrin at those either. She toyed with asking to see the upstairs, or just ducking behind the sheet she was fairly sure hid the steps and looking without permission. But she had no guarantee Ferrin was here, just a tip he liked to gamble and this was the best place. No sense making a ruckus with those facts in play. She clicked her tongue in disappointment and headed back toward the door. Time for some more roaming-

Someone gave the coded knock as she approached and the doorman pointedly swung in front of her to answer it before she could exit. Xaeryn huffed as she waited out his vetting on the individual seeking entry. Fortunately for her patience, it only took a moment.

And the man he admitted was none other than her elusive quarry.

“Ferrin?” she blurted out and he froze in the doorway.

“What’s it to you?” he demanded, glancing back out at the street.

“I wanted to talk to y-”

He bolted.

Xaeryn growled and went after him, dodging the doorman when he tried to block her.

It was to Ferrin’s advantage that he knew the area better; one too-quick turn and he’d be lost to her. It was to her advantage that she was taller and very determined. She was just in time to see the tail of his jacket flutter ‘round a turn, and adjusted her speed to follow without landing in the mud.

Ferrin had scrambled atop a crate when she rounded the corner.

“I just want to talk-” Xaeryn hollered.

Ferrin ignored her, clambering up another crate that teetered under the weight and moving to climb on the roof of a house. The bottom crate buckled just before he reached it, rotted wood collapsing under the careless weight of someone in a hurry. He yelped a curse as the stack dumped him on the ground when it fell out from under him.

Xaeryn reached him before he made it to his feet, hauled him up, and pinned him against the wall with an arm twisted behind him back. “I just. Want to talk,” she reiterated.

“Ain’t got no truck with Mages,” Ferrin panted. “Ain’t done nothin’, ain’t seen nothin’-” He squirmed a bit and she pushed him more firmly against the filthy wall.

“Well, now, that puts me a bit behind the eight ball,” Xaeryn said conversationally, mind spinning. He had clearly bought into the superstitions about her kind, she could practically feel the nervous energy radiating off him at her being so close. “Because I think perhaps you did see something of value. At least, of value to me. If you won’t volunteer the information, I’ll have to think of something that could persuade you...” Her grip tightened on his wrist.

“Alright, alright!” He went lax against the wall. “Swear you won’t turn me into a... a toad or nothin’ and I’ll spill.”

“Of course not.” Xaeryn loosened her grip on his wrist, watching warily as he slipped free and stood between her and the wall. “I genuinely just want to talk; I think you may have seen something that would help.” She canted her head slightly. “I understand you had a job guarding a Whitestone Couriers caravan recently?”

He folded his arms across his chest as he nodded. “Pink-haired flit in charge wanted extra protection through the city. Didn’t ask why she was more jumpy ‘bout that than all the rough road they’d covered, didn’t care. Money’s money an’ I hadn’t had a decent job in weeks. Someone offers twice m’ rate with no hagglin’ I ain’t askin’ any questions beyond where they want me an’ when.”

Well, that was an intriguing revelation. Even more intriguing that Ms. Aerin hadn’t mentioned hiring extra guards. “And did you see anything out of the ordinary on the way to the museum?”

Ferrin paused a moment, started to shake his head, “No- Not til the end, just as we were pullin’ in the yard. I was posted on the last truck, see, so I could see the whole wagon train and behind us if I wanted. There was a mug kickin’ dust just outside the fence, thought I saw him try to touch or grab one of the trucks as it went past, an’ he slunk away soon as they were all in. Tried to be sly about it, but that’s the sorta thing I’m paid to catch. He headed down the alley and there weren’t any trouble unloadin’, so I took my deucalions an’ left without sayin’ nothin’. Figured it weren’t that important.”

“Did you see what this loiterer looked like?” Xaeryn asked, a suspicion forming in her mind.

“Average height, dark jacket, hat pulled low. Nasty scar on th’ side of his neck.” Ferrin shrugged. “Mighta hair green hair, but I couldn’t swear to it, ‘cause of the hat. Just saw a flash of it.”

That tears it. She needed to find this green-haired gentleman, regardless of Mr. Syndran’s conviction he was just a red herring of some sort. “Thank you. You’ve been... enlightening.” She fished through her handbag for the last full deucalion she had on her. “You more than earned this.”

Ferrin’s defensive stance loosened immediately and he reached for the money. “Autarch’s eyes, miss, y’ should have mentioned you was payin’ from the off.”

“You didn’t give me a chance,” Xaeryn said dryly. She cocked her head. “Why were you so convinced Mages had sent someone after you?”

He pocketed the coin, picked something out of his teeth. “May be there’s a small set of ‘em who feel I overcharged for gettin’ them here safely and didn’t hold it kindly when I made clear I don’t give refunds.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Did you? Overcharge?”

Ferrin shrugged, but started edging toward the mouth of the alley. “When your clients could be as much a danger as the surroundings, hazard pay’s a fair charge.” He bolted.

Xaeryn rolled her eyes but didn’t pursue. She had what she’d come for, and running after him would only reinforce whatever prejudices he held about Mages. Prejudices that were not entirely unwarranted, even if they were an annoyance. Only half a day in the caravansary town was better than she’d expected. She could have lunch at home. That would be nice.

---

Getting back through customs ensured it was a late lunch. It was a good thing her trek home went otherwise smoothly; hunger had her cranky by the time she unlocked the door. The key stuck a moment and she scowled as she wiggled it until it cooperated. Of course it picked now to stick-

The door opened and she slipped inside with relief. There was a sandwich calling her name, and she wanted nothing more than to heed it. Xaeryn kicked the door shut, started to unpin her hat, and froze.

A faint blue pattern spidered across the back of the door. When she’d rented this office, she’d had a warding sigil enchanted into the door, to warn her if anyone broke in. That it wasn’t the full, vibrant dark blue meant they hadn’t succeeded, but someone had tried today. Someone had tried to search her office. She looked down at the key still in her hand. That’s why it stuck...

Xaeryn sighed. Whoever it was hadn’t gotten in, and she was starving. She’d puzzle through this later. After lunch.

She devoured her sandwich and a small bowl of fruit at a truly unladylike pace, then turned her attention to the door. There wasn’t much to glean. Whoever had tried to pick the lock was very good; they’d only jammed a tumbler with the haste of withdrawing. Someone must’ve been coming. The sigil didn’t indicate how long ago it had occurred or anything, just that someone had tampered with the door. Which, granted, was its purpose--let her know if someone went through her office regardless of how careful they were to leave things looking undisturbed.

Dissatisfied but unable to do more--and very curious who had such an interest in her work--Xaeryn closed the door and sat at her desk to call Ms. Aerin. She had some questions, and getting into the gala had moved to the bottom of the list.

The line only rang twice before being answered with a crisp, “Whitestone Couriers, how may I help you?”

“Ms. Aerin, it’s Detective Shrike.”

“Ah, Miss Shrike, I presume you’re following up about the gala?”

“Yes, but I also had something else to discuss with you first,” Xaeryn said, twirling her pencil.

“Oh, something that relates to your investigations today?” An extra note of curiosity colored her voice.

“Got it in one.” She leaned back in her chair. “My pursuit took me out to the caravansary town-”

“Ah.”

“-where I met a man who said you hired him for twice his rate merely to have extra protection entering the city.”

“Twice his-” Ms. Aerin growled softly. “I offered what’s time and a half for our regular guards, to compensate for it being... so abrupt a recruitment. If I’d known his rates were normally that much lower...”

“I’m more interested that you hired him at all. As well as another woman? Was there a reason for that? And you didn’t mention it any of the previous times we spoke.”

“Gut instinct, to the first,” Ms. Aerin said with a sigh. “I had a feeling something would happen without knowing what and wanted to be prepared, if we could. I didn’t mention it because Riel- Mr. Syndran frowns upon hiring... unvetted individuals for jobs, particularly ones of that importance. I knew he wouldn’t approve, but I also wanted to protect the caravan. My instincts are usually bang on when it comes to business-related matters, and were again this time, you’ll recall.”

There was something to her tone, a familiar vehemence carried by people defending a decision they felt would be poorly received but still stood behind. It was admirable, and beyond that, made the explanation more believable. Xaeryn understood trusting your instincts. Right now hers were saying Ms. Aerin spoke truly.

“I do recall. I won’t volunteer this information to Mr. Syndran, but if he asks or it becomes pertinent to an explanation, I won’t hide it, either.”

“Fair. Was that all on the topic?”

“One more thing: did you happen to glimpse this green-haired fellow who keeps popping up?”

“I saw loiterers near the museum, but none that set off alarms,” Ms. Aerin said. “None that I noted with unusual hair, either.”

“Thank you.” Xaeryn tapped the pencil against her chin. “That’s all on the topic. Moving on to the gala?”

Ms. Aerin cleared her throat, professionalism in her tone. “Yes, of course. I was able to procure you the necessary invitations, but you’ll have to let me know the names and titles to give-”

“Plural?” Xaeryn interrupted, sitting straight. “Invitations, plural?”

“Oh, yes, Miss Shrike. It’s considered quite unseemly to attend this sort of event unaccompanied. Bordering on scandalous, and I doubt that sort of attention would help you with discretion.”

Xaeryn groaned and leaned forward, bracing her elbows against the desk as she rubbed at a sudden headache. “But I don’t-”

“Oh, come, Miss Shrike, you don’t have a single friend, family member... colleague even, who could attend with you?” Ms. Aerin’s voice was rife with skepticism. “It doesn’t need to be a romantic partner; I’ll be attending with Mr. Syndran, and I assure you, there’s nothing beyond business partnership there.”

“I-”

Red.

She sighed and pushed the thought away. “I’ll think of someone.”

Ask Red.

“Do it quickly; I need to get the information to the doorman by tomorrow afternoon, the following morning at the latest, if you actually want to get in.”

“Right. ...That’s all, Ms. Aerin. Thank you.”

“Glad I could help. Oh, and Miss Shrike. I’m sure this goes without saying, but the gala is black tie.” She hung up and Xaeryn sat frozen, staring at her telephone a moment before she did the same.

Then she leaned forward with another groan until her forehead rested on the desk. “What do I do?”

Ask. Red. He’s your friend, Xaeryn, you know he’d come to help you out.

Which was, of course, exactly why she hesitated. The doors that would open... She wasn’t sure she was a strong enough woman.

The telephone rang. Xaeryn picked her head up off the desk and shifted professional before answering. “Xaeryn Shrike.”

There was a warm laugh, then, “I just lost a five lyss wager that you’d be out investigating rather than in the office.”

Her heart skipped a beat, her hand tightening around the receiver. “Liefred.”

“Everything alright, Xaer?” He must have picked up on something in her voice; his had gone concerned. “Is this a bad time?”

“Oh. No.” Never. Not for you. “Just a lot on my plate, has me a little frazzled.”

Ask him.

She pointedly ignored the thought. “Who... were you wagering with whether I’d be in my office?”

“Oh, myself,” Red laughed. “Though I am surprised to catch you in.”

“I needed to make a call. Came back for lunch and to take care of that.”

“My good luck on the timing, then. I have some more information for you.”

She smiled and ran a hand over her hair. “Where do you find time to do all this extra research for me, Headmaster Antiqua?”

“I told you, I always have time for you, Ryn.” He cleared his throat. “Though, in this case, it was Pan’s research, actually. Lineage and genealogy have always been more his forte.”

Xaeryn winced and bit her lip. “...And what did you tell him when you roped him into helping?” she asked, trying for a light teasing tone. This was supposed to be a secret, but Red was the worst liar she’d met in her life(and her line of work meant she’d met a lot), so him trying to give Pan a cover story might’ve been more of a giveaway something was up than telling the truth.

Red laughed. “He volunteered, I’ll have you know. And all I said was I needed it for a research project.”

“Alright.” Not that she didn’t trust Pan, but Mr. Syndran had said as few outside people as possible. “What did he find?” If she focused on the business aspect maybe she could drown out the urging in the back of her mind regarding a certain gala and her best friend.

“Most of the ten or so people claiming to have, well, a claim on Solimer’s Torch have gaps of at least a few generations in the genealogies, some even more than that, so they’ve mostly resigned themselves to defeat.”

“Most? So there’s at least one with a stronger claim?” Xaeryn asked, pencil in hand and notebook open now. This sounded important.

“Mm.” Red’s voice muffled a moment, and she smiled picturing him wedging the receiver between his jaw and shoulder to have both hands for shuffling through notes. “Strongest--and loudest--claim is actually the king of Elinden. There’s a couple spots just murky enough--rights of conquest and what have you--that he hasn’t been able to supersede the current owner’s rights. I think I saw something in the papers about him being in Haven for some gala or something; maybe you could talk to him.”

There’s your opening, ask him. Xaeryn gripped her pencil so tight it snapped, the words refusing to come up her throat, swirling and stuck in her chest. Come with me. Just like when she’d left after graduation. She gave herself a little shake and hoped her voice wasn’t too strained when she found it. “Maybe so, I’ll look into it. And the others?”

“Oh, there’s a couple with stories of great-great-great grandparents who share names with known figures from Jalis, but nothing solid... A warlord with a complete oral genealogy tying him to one of the owners of the pendent, but no written records, because people in the Jalis desert didn’t keep written records until less than a hundred years ago. It’s all oral tradition and maybe stone grave markers. Ms. Aescar, the current owner, is lucky; enough of her ancestors warranted said markers to establish an acceptable genealogy for provenance to go to her.”

“So if I were to investigate one of these others...” Xaeryn let it trail off as she dug for another pencil.

“I’d hazard if any of them actually did anything, it’s the Elinden one,” he said. “Good job he’s about to be in your backyard, huh?”

Ask him, ask him, ask him!

“Mmhm.” She found a pencil but just twirled it between her fingers.

“You sure everything’s alright, Xaer?” There was a creak as if Red was leaning against his desk. “You sound distracted.”

“Just a lot to keep straight with this case,” she said with a laugh.

....ask him...

“Find any leads today?”

“I did, actually, and it’s around the museum, so you don’t have to worry about me traipsing through rough neighborhoods,” she teased, leaving off that she found that lead traipsing through a quintessential rough neighborhood.

“Ah, good. I don’t know if my heart could take it,” Red teased back.

“Busy days ahead...?” It was half friendly banter, half searching for an excuse he wouldn’t be able to come even if she invited him. Didn’t help when she knew he’d drop just about anything if she asked, anyway.

“No more than usual, maybe even a little lighter,” he said, voice going soft. “I’m just a worrier by nature, Ryn, you know that.”

“I do.” She bit her lip, the invitation once again stuck halfway up her throat. “No need for it to be on my account, currently, at least.”

“Good to know,” he said warmly. “Well, I’ll let you get back to work, hm? If there’s so much on your plate?”

Xaeryn laughed. “Thank you. And thank you--and Pan--for the information. It’ll be a big help.”

“I’m glad. Bye, Ryn.”

“Goodbye, Liefred.”

She hung up and dragged her hands down her face, mentally cursing her cowardice before giving herself a shake and turning to transcribing what he’d told her in her notebook. She hadn’t written a word while he was talking, and this would be important. Looked like the gala would be a chance to kill two birds with one stone.

Assuming she could muster the nerve to invite a proper escort in time.

-----

Like I’m gonna pass up the chance for these two idiots to have an existential crisis pine over each other in formal wear :D

The extra Shepherds with Blade and Trouble are my Trick and @haledamage’s Iorwen, who looks vaguely familiar to Ryn bc they’re both Circle Mages, so would have at least met each each other as teens.

#queens fic #shoh #xaeryn shrike #red antiqua #tlbt #ryn/red

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