29 March 1686 of the 6th Era, West District

  Early morning in the West District was as hectic as ever. Couriers ran from one building to the next. Newspaper boys shouted at the top of their lungs, each trying to sell their own newspaper and sabotage their competition if they could help it. Important looking men and women drove by in carriages, some painted simple black, while others bore house crests and company logos. Heavy wagons went up and down the streets, carrying a cornucopia of goods, ranging from freshly baked bread to construction materials for yet another building trying to rival the infamous Jefferson tower. Clacking of hooves, screeching of wheels, and the rumbling of voices filled the chilly air.

  Antony felt very at home in this lively sea of people, navigating through it with natural grace while also making sure he made some space for Charlotte, more so because it was part of his job to make sure his employer didn’t get swept away by the rushing crowd than out of necessity. He knew very well that if she wanted to, she’d create all the space she needed.

  He stopped by one of the newspaper boys, paid him a penny, and in return got a couple printed sheets of greyish paper with that characteristic smell of recently dried ink. Probably dried, at least.

  “Something caught your attention?” Charlotte slightly tilted her head, examining the headlines.

  “More a force of habit,” he admitted as he stood a bit to the side so as not to get in the way. “The news is always the topic of morning conversations, and I’d rather at least have an inkling as to what is being discussed.”

  “To be able to distinguish between official sources and whatever the rumour mill has dragged in?”

  “And that, too,” there was a somewhat cheeky glimmer in his eyes. He quickly skimmed through the front page. “Queen’s new decree sparks discord among the nobility”, “Record volumes of contraband from the Eastern Archipelago detained by the customs board”, “Prices of tulip bulbs soar after the newest fashion takes root in Enua”... He quietly sighed with relief.

  “The Royal Alchemy Society is still in one piece, I take it?”

  “Thankfully, yes. No news is good news, I guess, but it doesn’t make me any less worried.”

  Antony laughed as he said that. And yet… It wasn’t that he truly expected the Royal Alchemy Society to go up in flames the moment he took a few days off. He also knew that Andrew was fully capable of running things without him, otherwise he would have never agreed to work with him to begin with. Yet, the weird overwhelming feeling of dread that had been following him since January still refused to loosen its grip.

  Charlotte said nothing, only gave him an encouraging smile.

  “There might be something of note here after all,” Antony said as he turned the page. “They’re postponing Mr Brook’s trial.”

  “Did Mr Placek contact you about this?”

  “No. I’m not really sure what this is about, and this article is incredibly short on details. Just that something new came to light and they’re reevaluating the situation.”

  “I’d rather know the exact reason,” Charlotte said quietly. “More time is always appreciated, but if there’s something we don’t know…”

  “I can ask him via a Sending spell.”

  Antony turned to the next page, read a few lines, and whistled, “Or maybe not. I think I already have an answer for you. Look at this.”

  He handed her the paper and proceeded to mindlessly observe the people around them while she read the article.

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  “Tragic Incident in the North District, Nightmare Poets Leading the Investigation

  On the night of 28 March 1686 of the 6th Era a patrolling guard discovered a mutilated body on Butter Street, North District, that was later identified as a member of the Nightmare Poets, Mr Roland Kivi. According to the official sources, at the time of death he was working on a case, the details of which remain classified. Official sources refused to provide further comments on the matter.

  According to an anonymous informant, Mr Kivi died from a direct stab through the heart with an object strongly resembling a very thin sword. No use of necromancy is presently suspected.

  He was 694 years old at the time of death and left a wife and two adult children. Our condolences go out to friends and family.”

  “I’m a bit surprised this hasn’t made the front page,” Antony observed.

  “Not enough juicy details to make it to the front page. Or, rather, the details are nicely omitted. They write mutilated and then proceed to say that the only wound was a direct stab in the heart. I think I can guess where this is going.”

  “So can I,” Antony firmly nodded in reply, then rubbed the bridge of his nose as he remembered something. “Could he have been working on the case you mentioned earlier?”

  “I have no clue. I’ve not heard from them since that briefing, and I can’t say I was interested in any of it to begin with,” she handed him back the newspaper. “You were there when Bernard asked me to attend the meeting, and the only reason why I agreed was because he promised to do a thing or two in return and lift any and all restrictions pertaining to me using magic.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “We continue as planned.”

  “Not curious to see what the fuss is about?”

  “Oh, I am most curious,” she paused, waiting for an exceptionally loud group of halflings and lizardfolk dressed in the most frivolous of costumes to pass by them. One of them started humming a tune, and the others instantly followed, but not exactly in unison, creating such a cacophony that Charlotte covered her ears with her hands, wincing. If she could, she probably would have stuffed cotton into her ears, only that she had none. Thankfully, this merry band rather quickly disappeared behind the corner. “However, I haven’t received an invitation to examine the crime scene, or a Sending spell requesting my aid, and I’d rather not barge in when I’m clearly not… I wouldn’t say not welcome, but these people are professionals. They know what they’re doing just as well as I do.”

  “As you wish, though if you change your mind, I think I know where it is. Roughly,” Antony frowned slightly. “The North District is mostly working class dwellings, I rarely have business there. However, Butter Street, if I’m not mistaken, is somewhat close to the Docks, and not too far away from one of our warehouses.”

  “We could go there just to make sure that place hasn’t suffered the same fate as Lord Welz’s manor,” Charlotte said quietly. “Who knows, maybe the two murders aren’t even connected. But if they are, and if we find the same curse lingering in this area… I don’t even want to think what this might entail.”

  “There might be a pattern, or a larger plan. You won’t get into trouble for keeping the information regarding Lord Welz’s case to yourself?”

  “I’d say we’re safe for now. Either way, we only have a half-baked theory and a plethora of assumptions. There’s no concrete evidence to back any of our claims. I’ve also informed Bernard of the more crucial details, and he promised to provide an explanation if the Nightmare Poets or any of the other churches require anything,” she replied firmly, then, seeing his concerned expression, continued in a gentle tone. “I’m not used to working alone, if this is what frightens you. On the contrary, usually I am part of a larger team. Much easier to blend in and remain unnoticed. It’s just that… I can’t explain it, but I really want to be certain I’m not missing or misunderstanding anything.

  “Either way, let’s go before we’re late. I doubt Mr Goldmann will be happy about it.”

  “Most definitely not. He’ll be the embodiment of calmness and courtesy himself, but a raging volcano on the inside.”

  “So you know him?”

  “Lord Blackwater has some dealings with him, but the same can be said about half of Ledavia’s nobility and lower upper class at this point. The man is invaluable if you want to stand a chance at winning anything in court.

  “I will also add that he has read the ‘Who is Who’ of the Northern Continent enough times that he knows it by heart at this point, and unlike Mr Placek or Mr Brook, he will definitely recognise your surname, even if you give him that little visiting card of yours. Feel free to use it to your advantage.”

  “How well informed is he when it comes to rumours?”

  “Huge on those. I doubt that Pearl of Lindau escaped his notice.”

  “That might at least help get my foot in the door,” her eyes shimmered slightly, and for a moment it seemed like the starry night skies were reflected in them.