A fan work - the August Agency

[JKlarinet]

@Stef

I would hesitantly suggest some edits to Marie’s perspective to make it clear that she wanted her hand held for reassurance, more like how her Mama does. Other people probably need to weigh in on this, though, because I might be missing a more nuanced perspective.

You’re right: reassurance was her intention. I think this is a good idea for the revision.

[JKlarinet]

Chapter 26: A Civic-Minded Institution

Frank Poe

Month 12, Day 8, 10:30 AM

Behind the desk sat the imposing figure of Lord Stag himself. Standing at Lord Stag’s right shoulder was the redheaded woman that Frank had met before. An enforcer blocked the door way out.

Standing in front of the desk, Frank had a sorcerer’s certainty that he appeared calm. He was not.

In part, his upset was Marie. Not that he faulted her for anything, but because she was with him. He would never have have brought a young teenager with him into this situation, but she stood next to him in front of the masked enemy of the Morrows. Frank had invited her along to meet the “manager” because he expected to meet the woman. They would have been in no real danger. But. He and Marie were brought to Lord Stag’s office instead. A wrong step here might become a dire problem. Frank kept his breathing steady and tried to prevent any tells.

Lord Stag’s office had dark wood panelling, spotless plush velvet chairs, a huge throne-like desk chair, and a desk made of wood so dark it appeared almost black. The desk’s maker had not resorted to the cheap ebonizing that Marie’s table had. This wood came from slow growing trees, imported from far away jungles, and was worked into an exquisite display of wealth.

Nor did this office elevate a single custom piece to prominence; there were no second-hand bookshelves or mismatching couches here. Everything fit the room perfectly, and the furniture lacked even a speck of dust or a errant hair. On the desk, a quill pen and a stack of clean paper were ready for Lord Stag’s use. The massive chair behind Lord Stag’s desk had a great tall back that suggested the qualities of a throne.

The room reminded Poe of a banker’s office, rather than that of a criminal mastermind. Or, perhaps, that was point: a successful criminal mastermind ought to have a touch of opulence. And, like a banker, petitioners come before their betters to request the favor of their time and money.

Even as imposing as the room itself, Lord Stag sat in his chair, elbows on the desk, and his gloved hands steepled and touching the chin of his entirely featureless white mask. He concealed the rest of his features under a great black cloak with a grey lining. Frank couldn’t even entirely sure of the color of his hair.

“Frank Poe. And protege.” Lord Stag observed. The mask seemed to have changed and muffled his voice. His voice had slightly eerie presence. “Welcome.”

“Lord Stag.” Frank replied. He kept his face carefully blank. Lord Stag offered no handshake. Nor did Frank intend to sit in either of the two chairs that sat in front of the desk. He itched to draw out his pipe: both for a smoke to ease his sudden headache, and to be ready for the unexpected.

Obviously the enforcer knew his business. Without magic, Frank wouldn’t last half a moment. In fact, even if Frank prepared, the man at the door had an air of danger that even Dinky couldn’t match.

Frank settled for standing, which he knew was rude. But then, Lord Stag was playing games, and Frank had not fallen quite so far that he would let Lord Stag have that much control. Marie, thankfully followed his lead, keeping Frank between herself and Lord Stag’s enforcer.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet our local private detective. You’ve met Katerine?”

Frank nodded. She may not have given her name, but Frank recognized her.

“It seems you had need of our services here at the Verdant Stag yesterday.” Lord Stag said.

“It seems I did.” Frank replied stiffly.

“I hope you aren’t anxious, Mr. Poe. I prefer not to make enemies unnecessarily. The city is not so big that I can afford to have too many of them.”

“We’ll just settle the tab, and be on our way.”

“It’s quite a lot of money.” Katerin replied.

“I don’t need a loan, if that’s what you are suggesting.”

“Of course. But, I suspect you don’t have the gold in your possession at the moment.” She said.

Lord Stag tilted his head slightly. Frank shrugged. He didn’t carry gold with him, but he could withdraw the money from his accounts. Gold had been difficult to replenish recently, but he would have clients. Eventually. He did not worry. Much.

“We could accept your word on payment. You are a successful detective, with many clients. Including the coppers?” Lord Stag continued.

“Sure.” Frank relaxed. Lord Stag seemed to believe he had leverage because of the money they would owe the Stag. True, Frank Poe did not have the great hereditary wealth of say, the Gervins. He just had what he’s saved from stipend and unfortunate inheritance. But it would be more than enough to cover the Verdant Stag’s bill, if it came to that.

“But you didn’t go to the coppers for help, did you?” Lord Stag continued.

“No.”

“You came to my place instead. That suggests something about your trust in that arrangement, doesn’t it?”

In reply, Frank stayed silent. Lord Stag was more clever that Frank had given him credit for. Frank failed to call on the Coppers for help. Lord Stag therefore would guess that Frank did not trust them.

Frank reckoned this was not entirely true, but it was close enough. The coppers would have alerted the Red Guard, and Frank wanted Marie as far away from them as possible. The Red Guard would find Marie’s resistance to Frank’s curse—and now the aberrant’s alluring effects—interesting. Hopefully, the healer kept the blood magic secret, but that was a third reason Frank needed to keep Marie away from the Coppers.

On the other hand, Frank was friendly with Robards. The coppers did do some good work. The Crowns may be selfish and vain, but they did keep the most violent criminals off the streets, and Titus Westbay seemed like a conscientious leader. Interrogation only occasionally involved beatings.

Frank’s silence eventually seemed to crack Lord Stag’s expectation that Frank would respond.

“The Morrows, despite your companion, do not seem to be helping you much either.” Lord Stag waved a hand toward Marie. “She may be one of them, but you did not seek them out either.”

“Let’s just say that the Morrows’ cruelty set my course to seek fairer winds and calmer waters.”

“My representatives have asked you before, Mr. Poe. But, perhaps, now that debts are owed and favors could be exchanged, we may discuss a contract with the Verdant Stag? We could wipe the debt clean, and even put you on a retainer?”

Marie squeaked. If this meeting wasn’t so serious, Frank would have rolled his eyes. She liked money too much.

“How much?” she asked.

“Oh, say 10 gold per month, to keep the August Agency employed for necessary work. In addition to your customary fees, of course.”

Marie snorted. At least she knew the value of Poe’s services would be more costly than that. Frank, however, tried to keep a stoic expression. Lord Stag must have thought Frank was desperate. Or, perhaps he was hoping Frank would haggle. Frank reckoned he wasn’t that desperate, and he had no inclination to haggle up from a lowball number.

“Do you want an investigator, or a sorcerer, I wonder? That is a paltry amount of money for a sorcerer; even if you are interested in my specialties, you can buy better from sorcerers at the Night Market.”

“Oh, and do you have someone in mind?”

“Liza’s rates are reasonable.” Frank replied. ‘Not very reasonable,’ Frank thought,* ‘but reasonable compared to her skill.’* Frank continued, “My ability could hardly compete.”

The Stags in the room tried not to react, but they reacted enough that Frank knew they recognized the name. Katerin’s eyes flinched, and while Lord Stag’s mask appeared inscrutable, even he leaned away a bit. This was interesting. Frank assumed underworld figures knew the woman, but not that they would be interested in hiding that relationship.

“Gilbratha relies on magic, both small and large.” Lord Stag replied mildly. “In your case, the Stag could make an investment up front, as it were.” Even if the comment on Liza had rattled him, Lord Stag’s voice showed no sign of discomfort. “We don’t need people of Liza’s caliber for every problem that comes along. Sometimes a more subtle sorcerer might be required.”

‘Like the Raven Queen?’ Frank thought. Frank gave a deliberate shake of his head.

“I am not terribly qualified as battle mage, artificer, or potion master.” Frank lied. What he said might be the truth, if he compared himself to a grandmaster or Liza. But he knew more than the basics in all of those disciplines; he used potion-making and artificery to set up various aspects of advanced divination in his studies at the University. And, he hadn’t learned pipe-fighting because he lived a peaceful life. But that didn’t matter, because he knew he was a broken sorcerer. Even a few minor spells over the last few days had stretched himself thin. “But, I am not offering magical services. I am a detective.”

Lord Stag seemed to be judging something, pausing before he spoke again.

“You’ve said. You seem the type that might still be interested in a trade. Please sit. I hope we can both benefit from a fair exchange, perhaps some information?”

Frank finally relented and sat in one of the plush, but armless chairs, and Marie followed and sat as well.

“As a matter of fact, I am interested in a deal. Your subordinate seems to think I have some information on the Raven Queen’s father.”

“Do you?” Lord Stag asked.

“Not at the time; but now, we may be able to do business. I obtained some information because I agreed to investigate the Raven Queen on behalf of the Coppers. It is not an ongoing obligation; I merely get the reward if my information leads to her arrest. But I also made an oath to get access. My oath does not let me share details with people that are not cooperating with the Coppers. Would you be willing to tell me that you’ll assist the Coppers on occasion? Think carefully before you answer.”

Lord Stag must have stared quite hard at Frank through that expressionless mask. Frank could almost feel the man’s eyes boring into him.

“The Verdant Stag is a civic-minded institution.” Lord Stag finally replied. “We help them on occasion even now. After all, just yesterday we sent a runner to the Coppers when we heard about a dangerous aberrant.”

Frank thought about the information he would reveal, to see whether he felt any restraint from the oath. It seemed fine. As he suspected, the oath was very manipulable.

“Clear our debt, and I share what I know about Ennis Naught. Also, I’d prefer that you’d give Professor Lacer a fair hearing if he ever comes to you asking to pass on a message to the Raven Queen. I suspect you can do this?”

“Thaddeus Lacer?”

“Yes.” Frank gave a small smile. A little consideration for Professor Lacer would make the professor happy, and hopefully asking for this favor would give Frank some credibility with Lord Stag as well. Frank had not been good with connections, but absolute independence seemed overrated after all. His mind flashed to that moment on the dark street when he desperation had driven him here, Marie dying in his arms. He wasn’t even certain that the Stags would have helped, and he felt lucky they had.

Lord Stag gave a slow nod. Frank nodded back.

“Let’s lay this out clearly: I am trading straightforward information: ‘What is Ennis Naught telling the Coppers in Harrow Hill?’ in exchange, the Stags clear our debt, and keep any part of what you learned here including my apprentice’s unique situation confidential. Do we have a bargain?” Frank explained.

“How will we remember it?” Katherine asked.

“Easy. We’ll write it down.” Frank replied.

“He means I’ll write it down.” Marie muttered.

“If you are willing to go on a retainer …” Lord Stag began.

Frank held up a hand to stop Lord Stag’s tack to that subject. “Respectfully, I’ll not fly an ensign for you Lord Stag. But, I will consider investigative work, if you ever need it.”

“You have your pride I see. This is acceptable, for now.”

Frank had Marie write out the agreement, then they all sat around the desk while Frank explained the copper’s information on Ennis, and Marie wrote out notes for Lord Stag and Katerine.

Frank reckoned that sharing what he knew about Ennis wouldn’t help Siobhan Naught escape the coppers or him. Frank wasn’t giving up much to tell them that Ennis didn’t know anything useful. The coppers were wasting their time with Siobhan’s father. In fact, the Coppers knew very little about the whereabouts of the Raven Queen, and Frank didn’t mind giving that information either. It was already widespread knowledge that the Raven Queen had slipped their searchers.

Even if Lord Stag’s mask hid it, Frank sensed he was pleased. Frank reckoned that even if the Stags were not protecting Siobhan Naught outright, then they were invested, at least, in preventing her capture.

“Is our bargain complete?” Frank finished.

“It seems so.” Lord Stag replied. Frank motioned for Marie to stop writing.

“Good.” Frank hesitated, but decided to add one last thought. “If I ever return here and agree to work with you, I am assuming that I’ll have to let the investigation into Siobhan Naught drop?”

“You will.”

Frank sighed. “I thought so. Fair weather to you. Your medical treatment was first rate. I hope we can maintain such a friendly relationship in the future.”

“I hope so too.” Lord Stag murmured.

…

After Frank and Marie had left the room, and Huntley had shut the door firmly, activating the privacy wards, Oliver turned to Katerin. “Try to keep an eye on the August Agency. Mr. Poe by himself doesn’t seem like much of a threat, but looks, as we know, can be deceiving. He’s no friend to the Morrows, and that could be a useful trait in an ally.”

[JKlarinet]

Chapter 27: A New Dress

Marie

Month 12, Day 8, 1:30 PM

When they left the Stag, Marie made changing out of the lemon-dyed dress her priority. She felt irritated that she’d end up walking on the street, where people might see her. Suffering a long walk in this yellow thing would have been unbearable. ‘This dress is so bright it ought to be against the law to sell it. Who thinks a yellow dress is a good idea?’ Marie thought. ‘Are the Stags trying to make me look bad?’ She didn’t really believe that, of course. ‘The Stags wouldn’t be that petty. Would they?’

Thankfully, Frank hired a carriage to take them back to the office; although, it had a small, but noticeable, pair of green antlers painted just near the driver’s seat.

In the carriage Marie realized she still had a lot of questions after the meeting with Lord Stag. Marie found him disturbing; no one should go around hidden behind a mask. At least you knew who Lord Morrow was.

“Poe, … Master Poe, are you going to be friendly to the Stags now?” Marie asked.

“No. But, I do not plan on continuing to antagonize them … directly.”

“So, what does that mean?”

Poe leaned back in the seat. He raised an eyebrow.

“You aren’t going to stop investigating the Raven Queen?”

“Technically, I just have to let Professor Lacer know what I need to, and the apprentice girl, and then it’s over. The Stags definitely know how to reach Siobhan Naught, and that is that.”

Marie had a suspicion though, because Poe had a look.

“But, it won’t be.” Marie observed.

“Don’t you want to know? The truth behind the stories? Find out what’s so important about the book she stole?”

Marie thought about that. Could the Raven Queen really travel through shadows? Was she really able to form ravens from shadows and spin nightmares into shape?

“A little.” Marie replied.

“Me too. It would be easier to just tell Lacer what we know and be done with it but … The Raven Queen is an enigma.”

“Engima means … powerful?”

“Puzzle. It’s another word for puzzle.” Poe smiled, but it seemed brittle.

Millie Parker’s transformation puzzled Marie as well. Millie’s powers didn’t seem to follow any of the rules of magic. Even if her body was her conduit, what was the source of the power? Why did she lose her mind, but still seem to have motives? Why was Marie immune? How had he lost control of the magic that badly? Poe told Marie about will strain, now that Marie experienced it, she understood him better.

“Magic is not safe.” Marie whispered.

Poe leaned forward and got Marie’s attention.

“Do you know why sorcerers still do magic?” Poe asked. Marie shrugged. “Living isn’t safe. It’s unreasonably dangerous to live, and eventually, living will kill you. Practicing sorcery is living; so, if I’m given a choice between living and dying … I choose life. Actually, after the day we’re having, I may be choosing tea and a good supper.”

“And, a bath?” Marie said. She felt grimy, even in her new clothes. And her head hurt. Although that seemed to be a minor upset compared to how tired she was.

“That too! Although we should head up the hill and bathe properly? yes?”

“Yes!”

“And fix that dress?” Poe continued; Marie definitely agreed with that! Poe’s expression turned thoughtful. “Hmm. I am thinking you need better protection besides.”

“Oh, and Mama will be worried!” Marie realized that she hadn’t visited Mama.

Frank agreed, and suggested that they send a note. But, they did not need to send a note, because when the arrived at the Agency, they found a boy sleeping in the Agency’s doorway. Connor, a boy helping Mama in the laundry. As soon as Poe stepped out of the carriage, Poe recognized him immediately.

“Boy, why are out here sleeping and not back at the parlor?” Poe asked.

“Begging your pardon sir, but Mama Stella sent me to find Marie.” Conner replied. “She didn’t come visit this morning, and what with the Coppers everywhere and Dinky disappearing, she had me sneak out and see if I could find you.”

“Coppers?” Frank asked sharply.

“Uh, yes sir. Millie did some sort of blood magic and everyone got rounded up by the Red Guard and the Coppers to sort out if there were any unlicensed practitioners at the parlor.”

Poe paled slightly, but he barely paused before he responded.

“Tell Stella that we found a shelter when the alarms sounded and that Marie is fine, but we will be busy few days, and we’ll visit when work here at the agency calms down.”

“Uh, is that right?” Connor asked Marie. It took her a moment to realize what Poe was doing. If Connor gave that explanation to Mama, Mama wouldn’t know about their role in fighting Millie Parker, and the coppers wouldn’t realize that Mama’s story would not be entirely true.

“Yes, Connor. Tell her I love her. I won’t be able to visit for at least a few days. But, she can tell me all about Millie when she can get free to visit us here at the Agency. ”

“Uh, but aren’t you supposed to …?”

“Connor, I’m sure Mama would understand; I look forward to her visit when she is free.” Marie glowered at him. Connor wasn’t that dumb, but he always was a little slower on the uptake. ‘Boys!’ She thought. Mama should realize that Marie couldn’t visit with all the Coppers around.

“Ok?” Conner replied. Marie shooed him away, and he walked back toward the Hands, Hearts, and Palms.

Poe paid the carriage driver to wait for them while they collected their toilette for bathing. Marie changed into one of her black dresses and ruana cloak with the new cloak pin, but Poe asked that she bring the yellow monstrosity with them. She still did not have decent shoes.

Poe also asked her to leave her conduit, knife, and other components behind. Marie nearly argued with him, but he pointed out that she couldn’t get caught with these things if the Coppers questioned her. While unlikely, Marie could not excuse that risk, and Poe would accompany her the entire time. They took the carriage “up the hill” out of the Mires and into the finer neighborhoods in the shadow of the wall.

Eventually, Marie found herself freshly showered and soaking in a great cedar tub in a bathhouse at the base of the wall under the University. Poe selected a smaller private bathhouse, rather than the Crowns-run bath with the big pools.

The establishment provided private bathing rooms rentable by the hour. So early in the day, they had their pick of rooms. The attendant showed Marie the clever heating arrays to set the temperature of the water to perfection and the arrays that could clear the water for multiple soaks in different soaps and sweet-smelling salts.

One attendant even offered a magical hair treatment and dye, which, with Poe’s permission, Marie accepted. After she’d showered, she was shown to a glossy black stone with an array designed for the purpose. Her hair came out as black as a raven’s wing, and the apprentice told her the color would not fade or wash out. Apparently, trivial magic like this could be found near the University with ease.

Poe also sent her yellow dress away and it came back with the yellow portions black, and the white trim parts a satin midnight. To Marie, it might have been the most beautiful black dress she’d ever seen, which shocked her because the dress started from that ugly yellow and white. She considered, briefly, rushing her bath, just so that she could put it on. She soaked and wondered: when had she last owned a brand new dress?

Sitting in the tub up to her neck in purple jasmine bubbles, Marie’s thoughts also turned to the that dark cellar. Frigg came to her. How could a raven know, in advance, that Marie would need the key? How had Frigg known to bring it? Poe really might have been the best non-prognos diviner in the city, or he’d found the best oracle.

Dinky worried her too. During the escape, she had not recognized anyone. She knew that Dinky ended up obsessed over for the aberrant just like everyone else, even Poe. Although Poe explained it to her that morning, she felt a little annoyed that so many had been taken. She also worried that Dinky survived ok, and that the Coppers and Red Guard would let him go.

Marie also felt as if even she’d packed in a week of life into just two days. Poe told her that the Red Guard would be done with the victims in a day or two, but the incident was only a day old.

The water felt nice, but eventually, Marie needed to leave the tub. The bath left her feeling refreshed in a way she hadn’t been for weeks. She dressed in her new clothes, applied her black makeup and nail laquer, and reluctantly wore a pair of long black socks with the horrible “shoes.”

When she finally left her curtained room, she found Poe sat in the reception area in a clean pink and dark purple suit decorated with flower prints; he folded his koi overcoat in his lap. He’d found a newspaper, and he glanced up when Marie arrived.

“The dress’s color suits you?” Poe asked.

Marie smiled at him.

“It’s great. I can’t believe it was that awful yellow. You should try black, it would look good on you.”

“What makes you think I haven’t?” Poe asked rhetorically. Poe lifted the paper and pointed. “The aberrant has made the afternoon papers. Nothing to worry about.” He passed her the paper.

Marie read the article, then scowled. Marie read the scant few lines about how Millie had sought out blood magics to make more money from her clients. The article used words like “depraved” and “degenerate.” The Coppers featured prominently in uncovering the aberrant “early” and the Red Guard acting to protect everyone with “minimal” casualties.

“This … is lies. Millie was kind and sad, not depraved and greedy. She made do, like everyone!”

“I didn’t know her, so I do not have an opinion on her character. However, some matters aren’t about truth.” Poe quietly replied. “Reckless thaumaturges, like reckless sailors, eventually capsize. I should know.” Poe held out a hand for the paper, and after Marie handed it back, he folded it dropped it in a rack by the door. “But, perhaps most importantly, whether the spell was dangerous blood magic or not, Millie is beyond being hurt by a newspaper’s libel now.”

“But.” Marie hated that her anger made it seem like she was a petulant child. Millie was … flawed. But she was also her friend. Marie sighed.

Poe frowned sadly, and then stood up with a more and tried a cheerful tone.

“Let’s get something to eat. There is a restaurant not far from her that I enjoyed as a student. How do you feel about fish?”

Marie smiled and pretended she liked fish, so Poe hired another carriage, and they set out for a restaurant specializing in seafood. Not far from the city’s fish markets, a dim building served a variety of customers in a room with paper lantern lights. A table of sailors ate with quiet intensity at several tables, and one group of boisterous students laughed at a red-faced young man who seemed to have taking an oversized bite.

After Poe ordered, and in almost no time at all, servers brought out steaming pot containing vegetables, mushrooms, three kinds of shellfish, gulf fish, and orange colored spices. Poe and Marie received generous bowls of rice.
Marie looked at the violently orange stew skeptically. Poe explained that they should scoop the stew onto the rice and eat from that bowl.

“What is this called?”

“Numbing-Stew. This is the fish version, but it also comes in versions using meats and all vegetables.” Poe’s lips curled into an evil smile and his eyes danced. “You like spicy?”

“Uh. Sure!” Marie would maintain a positive mental attitude.

“Good! If this isn’t spicy enough for you, there’s a demon-pepper sauce in that jar there.” Poe began scooping over his bowl of rice.

Marie tried it. At first, she thought it was just … hot? She was so hungry, the balance of spicy and savory seemed to make it more interesting. And it was objectively interesting. The fish was soft and flavorful. Then, somewhere in her second helping, she just realized that with every bite, the spicy flavor just kept getting stronger. After, she finished it, she wiped her lips with a napkin, and …

“Poe. This is too much. I can’t feel my mouth. This is … hot. It’s hot! It burns!”

Poe was onto his third bowl, and he looked up and grinned.

“Good, right? If its too much though, try that blue tea.”

Marie grabbed the ice cold blue tea and sipped it, trying to cool her mouth. Remarkably, it did cool the spice down. Marie sighed in relief.

“I can’t believe it.” Marie laughed at the cooling sensation, and feeling came back to her mouth. “What sort of torture food is this?” Still, Marie ate another bowl before she was finished. With the cure to the spicy concoction at hand, Marie found she could eat quite a lot of it. As they finished, they ate less and talked more.

“The tea is just for people who aren’t used to the spice.” Poe laughed. “When I was a student, I took a dare to eat an entire pot of this stuff with no liquid relief. While I didn’t manage it, I developed a taste for it. My friend …” And Poe’s smile faded. “Never mind that. We’re going to try to eat better.”

“I like it, but, can it not be …” Marie hesitated “as spicy?”

“I’m not sure they’ll make it less spicy here, and I can’t make this at the Agency anyway. But, we can put together something tasty that with high protein and calories to try to get you to a healthier weight. And, possibly some exercise to improve your physical condition. How do you feel about running?”

Marie didn’t want to discourage Poe, but she knew that running wouldn’t work.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, its just that my heart … it’s not fixed exactly. I can’t run very far or very fast.”

“We’ll do progressive strength exercises then, and I’ll teach you some proper self-defense. No more knives.”

Marie reluctantly agreed.

“But, tonight we sleep. Tomorrow we try to talk to Professor Lacer, and maybe that apprentice.”

“And … new boots?” Marie asked hopefully.

“New boots.” Poe agreed.

[JKlarinet]

I never quite know what people want to read about in a fan fic, but I love little details in Azalea’s story like the sushi meeting with Tanya, or the mention that Percy learned all these fancy server tricks.

So, for this episode, I picked a couple of things that I often wonder about in fantasy cities: baths and restaurants. Marie got to spend some time thinking, and I can insert some things that interest me.

The numbing stew is based on Mala. Mala doesn’t have a secret tea that helps it cool down. The version I had was “baby hot” and it felt like someone pranked us it was so spicy.

I didn’t want our pair to run into Percy, otherwise I would have written them into my favorite fictional restaurant.

[ThatGuy_McGee]

Hey there! Just a lil question, was the color of Poe’s koi overcoat ever specifically mentioned? I remember him wearing colorful clothing, but I’m not sure if the colors of the koi were ever called out specifically (I’ve been visualizing it as chromatic/rainbow colors)

Perhaps his curse is effecting me through the pages, but I can’t seem to remember lol

I just finished binge-reading the series so far, and I’m thoroughly enjoying it!

[JKlarinet]

I’m glad you like it! It’s been fun to write, and I’m just getting to a difficult bit, so I really appreciate your words of encouragement.

Poe wears suits of all kinds of crazy patterns and colors: in my mind they are like Hawaiian-print except in suit fabric, or literally tie-dye patterns. But his coat is specifically:

a calf-length blue coat embroidered with orange, black, and silver koi

In my mind, the koi are like … well, koi colors? The blue is like a deep indigo blue.

I tried to use AI to mock up some references for my personal use, and guess what? No man wears bright clothing on the internet, not even anime. No one has embroidered a coat like that either. Basically, AI can’t do it; men are supposed to wear dark colors. This was 90% of the reason I wrote it this way. I want to normalize men wearing bright clothing. Seriously, it’s been a decade since I could buy a nice bright color in the store, unless it’s a tie.

This was as close as I got (from a real photo):

But, eh. It’s not enough fish, and printed. I guess I always imagined silver thread and maybe even gold mixed in the orange. Also, it’s not in a kimono style. There should also be some entirely black fish. The koi look, perhaps, a bit like the stylized fish on the Royal Road book cover, but more realistic looking? (My drawing skills are not up to the task of making proper koi)

[ThatGuy_McGee]

Some Investigationing™ with Frank Poe and Marie!

(Based off of the spiderman meme lol)

[JKlarinet]

Thanks for this, it makes me happy!

[ThatGuy_McGee]

No worries, I enjoy these funky guys, and the designs really stuck in my brain! I’m thoroughly enjoying the story so far!

[JKlarinet]

Chapter 28: Progress on the Investigation

Marie

Month 12, Day 9, Wednesday, 7:00 AM

Poe never woke early. Or, at least, Marie never thought Poe woke early. Except this morning. He knocked on her door even as she was just putting on her shoes.

“Good morning Marie!” Poe chirped. Despite his tone, he looked slightly manic, with dark fatigue under his eyes.

“Uh, good morning?”

“Let’s head up to the University. I have a good feeling about our chances of meeting Professor Lacer and discussing the progress on the investigation.”

“Uh, this early?” Marie was surprised. “How are you …”

“Awake? Didn’t sleep.” Poe replied.

“Ah.”

“I found a book on physical exercise, and I’ve prepared a physical self defense course; I’m thinking some stick fighting, because you are too small to do much damage with much of anything.”

Marie winced. “Did you stay awake all night for that?”

“Couldn’t sleep. I’ll take a nap in a few hours. You’ll want your cloak; let’s go eat!”

Marie put on her cloak with her garnet cloak pin and followed Poe out of the August Agency into the city. Some long wool socks kept her calves from freezing, but she again wished for her boots.

They found a street vender selling a spicy beans and rice concoction wrapped in a flat bread and then hired a carriage to head up the hill to the University.

Marie had seen the magical elevators before, but she’d never ridden in them. There seemed to be an impossibly long winding stair that they could have used. Poe, however, had no trouble getting permission to ride the elevators. He showed some sort of token, which Marie guessed proved his status as a journeyman graduate, and they were ushered into one of the lifts in exchange for some money.

When they reached the top they found a guarded iron gate. Poe did stop for long enough to allow Marie to gaze, somewhat open-mouthed, at the city that spread out below the cliffs from the entrance to the University. Close to cliffs, and across the gulf, were the grand homes of the wealthy and the parklands reserved for the privileged. Father away, and into the Mires, Marie could see the factories and workshops nestled along the the canals, the grey homes and shacks become less attractive the farther away one lived from the heart of Gilbratha.

“The city looks bigger from up here than I even imagined.” Marie told Poe. She tried, and somewhat failed, to sound like a mature observer. The view thrilled her on a level she’d never experienced before. So far up, everything smelt clear and fresh. Marie decided that the people living on the great plateaus surrounding the city must imagine that nothing could touch them. The University and the Palace looked down on all the tiny, inconsequential, people below.

She tried to imagine what it would be like to be one of these few. This was Poe’s plan for her? She wasn’t noble. How would she ever relate to these people?

“Is this what it feels like to be untouchable?” Marie asked.

“The University has placed itself above everyone that it could, but it is not untouchable. The food comes from the city’s farms. The books printed in city book presses. The cerelium from mines in the countryside. The trade goods from the docks. The fish from the gulf. The magical components from the rest of the world.” Poe paused. “If the University did not represent the greatest collection of magical knowledge in the world, it would be abandoned for its ruinous expense.”

Poe stopped in a small building by the gate; he persuaded the security with deft explanation and managed to get two temporary passes.

Marie had only ever seen the University at a distance. There were round towers, a massive library, and plenty of elaborate buildings. The white stone of the University Building, towering seven stories over the campus, glowed with reflected pink and gold in the morning light. But, what stood out to Marie were the trees.

Down in the city, a tree might struggle for light in some hidden courtyard, or there might be a few on the grounds of a wealthy manse, but here trees grew in great plenty, isolating the buildings from each other and the world. There were parks, of course, but those weren’t for people like her. These trees, however, just grew, unconstricted by street boxes or grates.

Marie had heard stories of forests, but she had never seen one before. Here was the closest to a forest that she’d ever encountered, surrounded by a green carpet of grass that showed some signs of brief snowfall in the shady places near the the tree trunks and beneath evergreen boughs.

Cold wind blew through even the sheltering trees, and Marie tucked her arms under her ruana.

Poe lead them into this seeming artificial forest; Marie could see the shapes of other small cottages hiding in the forest. Eventually, the reached the front door of one of them. When Poe came to its door, he knocked politely. He tucked his hands into outer pockets of his koi-coat. Shortly, the familiar long-haired professor opened the door.

Poe cut through any niceties immediately.

“I have a report for you on your request; may I come in?”

Professor Lacer scowled slightly. “I suppose you want coffee?”

“No need to go to the trouble, Grandmaster, I’m sure you have classes to prepare for.”

“Hmm. Yes, I was preparing my lecture on transmutation and transmogrification.”

“The turtle-egg demonstration? I enjoyed that one.”

“Sorry, what are you talking about?” Marie asked.

“Practical sorcery imagines that transmutation converts natural forms or energy, and transmogrification borrows from concepts to create a magical effect.” Poe replied. “Grandmaster Lacer’s demonstration shows that many magical effects use both. You needn’t worry about it for now.”

“I suppose your report includes lecturing your student on my lessons?” Grandmaster Lacer said blandly. “I am awake early to receive the delivery at my classroom this morning.”

“To your commission then. I’ve found two ways to reach Siobhan Naught. The first is obvious: contact Lord Stag.”

“Really?”

“He must know her or how to contact her. But, he is interested in keeping the Raven Queen’s secrets, and he wears a mask at all times. So.”

Grandmaster Lacer frowned. “Very well. The second method?”

“You have been consulting with the coopers, and they have an interesting piece of information. You might acquire something that Siobhan Naught desires. You are aware of the Gervins?”

“Of course. The Gervin’s presumptive heir is in my class.”

“Someone in the Gervin family has attempted to barter with Ennis Naught for the book.”

“Did they?” Lacer smirked a bit.

“It might have been unremarkable except … Siobhan Naught asked Ennis for a ring that he once possessed: a conduit housed in an heirloom ring. Ennis used the ring in his attempt to buy his freedom in exchange for offering his daughter’s hand in marriage to a Gervin. I’m sure you’ll see more about it in the files, should you read them yourself. But, you could acquire the ring. If the Raven Queen has a method to locate it, that would be another method to contact her.”

“Any other possibilities? These seem unlikely methods.”

“I planned to determine if she has made a direct contact with the magical underworld. There’s a trade in information, magic, and components. But, that might take weeks. Short term, I might only be able to pass a message, if I am lucky.”

“I’m not interested in passing a message, but if you can contact her, I’d be interested in what you learn. Do you need money for bribes?”

“Bribes? An amateur might try that, but no one in this group would be willing or interested in going up against a blood sorcerer like the Raven Queen. If money swayed them, the copper’s reward would be enough. We’re talking about unlicensed witches and tax evaders, not magical crime lords.”

Grandmaster Lacer nodded. Marie noticed that he remained largely unreadable, but still seemed pleased. He wrote Poe a draft of some kind, to be drawn at a bank in the city. When he handed the draft to Poe, Grandmaster Lacer offered one more comment.

“I thought you might not come back from the accident. It seems, however, that you recovered. I’ll allow you return return to my class, if you decide to enroll. You were only a few semesters from completing your mastery; your capacity was already sufficient I believe?”

Marie thought Poe looked a little sick. “There’s not much point in that now. I am an investigator. That will be good enough.”

Grandmaster Lacer nodded slowly. “I am aware enough of the details; if you need, you may consult me. The Red Guard’s vow won’t apply.”

“Thank you, Professor. Perhaps in a few years, if the curse … anyway. Thank you. We will let the you know if we find a reliable way to make contact with the Raven Queen.”

Lacer showed them out.

On their way back out through the copse of trees, Marie thought Poe seemed especially quiet. He walked slowly, and Marie did not have trouble keeping up.

“I didn’t know you could come back.” Marie said.

“I could, but I won’t.”

Marie thought about that as they walked. Marie took in the rattling branches in the trees, while the sun shown down through their branches. The air felt crisp and the wind blew softly in the trees like a whisper.

Students were traveling the campus with their satchels and papers, moving from the dorms to the main building. They looked clean, with stylish clothes, and purposeful expressions. Determined.

When Marie looked at Poe, she realized how young he must be. How long ago had he been a student? Marie had imagined he’d been an investigator for years, but while the August Agency’s building, and some furniture—like the couches—showed signs of wear and age, his books and desk must have been less than a year old. Her own black table was practically new.

“Could you be a full Master, if you wanted?”

Poe made a noncommittal noise, but he did not answer Marie’s question. As they emerged among a cluster of large buildings, Poe left Marie to wait on a bench and he left to send a message.

She sat and watched the students, hurrying about, laughing, and among their friends. Some of them might have watched her back, a little, but none tried to accuse her of being the Raven Queen, although one blonde watery-eyed boy slowed near her.

Following not far behind him, she saw one well-dressed group of younger students that caught her eye. A fashionably dressed, brown-haired and blue-eye boy, a blonde girl with similarly pale blue eyes dressed in a suit, and one more: a tall boy with light pale skin, pale blonde hair and black eyes. Eyes very much like her own black-brown. Eyes like the Raven Queen who Marie was so often confused for.

“Silverling, will you be passing on pointers to us in Burberry’s class?” The brown-haired boy said to the blond one.

“Westbay,” the young black-eyed man replied, “if you’re inadequately attentive on your own, you can hardly expect me to make up the difference for you.”

Marie figured that—while the remark seemed scathing—Silverling hadn’t put any real contempt behind it. And, while Silverling remained quiet, the other two chattered on, as they walked past Marie. Marie surreptitiously watched them as they walked off into the main building.

Marie had never heard the name Silverling, but she knew Westbay. The Westbays controlled the Coppers. Was this the sort of people that went to the University? The scions of Crown families and privileged elites? Did they have any idea what the city below was actually like?

Seeing them reminded Marie of her real place in the world. The University trained people with mundane and magical power; the kind of power that could get her free of the Mires. She would have to work hard to catch up to people like Westbay and Silverling. She was beginning to see the shape of the debt she would owe Poe for his promise to get her into the University. No wonder her Mama worried.

Poe returned with a light step, and cheerful expression.

“We need to speak to Canelo, and we will wait for her in the Menagerie. It’s quite the fascinating place, really. Although it’s also dangerous. Many of the plants—and most of the animals—can kill the careless in many clever and horrible ways.” Poe said.

“Kill?”

“You didn’t think magic was safe, did you?” Poe asked rhetorically.

Poe lead them up the plateau to a what first appeared to be wild garden. But stepping on the path inside the Menagerie, Marie realized she could practically feel the magic the plants gave off. Here and there students appeared to be collecting cuttings and putting them in baskets. Marie took Poe’s warning to heart and kept her hands to herself, and walked in the center of the path.

“There are many magical plants in the world, and even more from the elemental planes. All of them can be used in magic.” Poe lectured.

As they walked, he pointed to seemingly random plants and explained their virtues: plants that could be used to boost spells through power, symbolism, or even to transfer their effect to potions and pills. He pointed out several bushes whose leaves and bark could be used for magical effects: aiding in sleep, accessing the deep unconscious, reducing pain, speeding healing, granting wakefulness. He pointed out a red-stemmed bush that was one of his principle ingredients in his kinninnik, and he showed her a plant with silvery leaves used to substitute for more specific elements in cooling or heating spells, depending on whether picked in summer or winter.

Eventually, they reached a little out-of-the-way bridge over the stream.

“This is a good spot to wait.” Poe told her.

“Why?” Marie asked.

“The sound of running water metaphorically, and physically, carries the words spoken here away. This location hides deep beneath wards to protect the Menagerie. A bridge reinforces the space between things: bridges connect places, ideas, and people. Bridges sit in-between places, so travelers meet on them naturally. Practically, a bridge is often a little higher than everything around it, so observers can see if anyone is close. Canelo won’t look out of place meeting us on this little footbridge, and passing a pleasant few moments of conversation where wind and water keep our words from being easily overheard.”

And, indeed, from the top of the bridge’s arc, Marie easily spotted the familiar blonde student walking briskly through the Menagerie. Canelo walked directly to the bridge, then stopped and glared at Poe.

“What are you doing here?” She asked.

“Your paranoia needs work. You could have done a better job looking out for spies.” Poe answered. He raised an eyebrow.

“What?” Canelo waved to the empty pathways around them.

“Hmm. We were here on other business, and I thought I’d pass on a few pieces of information since you were close by.”

“If you’re trying to pad your fee, I don’t have any gold on me.”

“No, nothing like that.” Poe chuckled. “I have confirmed that the Stags can reach the Raven Queen. The other information I can only share with someone cooperating with the Coppers.”

“I’m not.” Canelo snapped.

Poe glared at her for a few moments. Even Marie thought Canelo’s reply especially careless compared to Lord Stag, who had at least given the impression of cooperation.

“Very well. There’s another information source we might try.”

“Then I want to speak to them!”

“Do you really?” Poe replied mildly. “I won’t protect you from these people if you make a mistake. We’re stepping off the straight and narrow path here. You’ll be required to pledge secrecy, and I can not guarantee you will even be admitted.”

“Yes.” Canelo said through gritted teeth. “I need results, and you are not providing them.”

Poe’s expression remained neutral, but Marie thought the koi shimmered a bit.

“I’ll send you a message. Aquire a mask before you receive it. You will pay me in restricted components this time.” Poe gave her a ragged smile. Poe withdrew a pad from a pocket and wrote a few sentences. “Do try to read this several times before you walk away. Forgetting this information would be a failure of your will.”

When he passed her the note, Canelo seemed ready to snap at Poe, but his expression had become more stormy, and he interrupted her before she even began.

“Do not confuse power for experience.” Poe hissed. “Many powerful thaumaturges live in the world, and not all of them are as forgiving as the Raven Queen. You have already received a warning,” Poe’s eyes went to Canelo’s arm, “be sure your ambition matches your competence.

Canelo blanched slightly, then touched her wrist. “It does.”

Poe nodded slowly.

As Marie watched Canelo walk away and out of the Menagerie, Marie wondered if Canelo really understood.

“How hard do you think it would be to follow Canelo to her dorm, or her classes?” Poe asked Marie.

“What do you mean?”

“Investigators need to be able to follow people and pry into their private affairs. Unobtrusively, of course. Notice how she’s not worried about anything up here at the University? This meeting with me was to discuss a confidential matter, but she made no attempt at a privacy ward or artifact. She has no noticeable protection from divination.” Poe grinned. “Let’s say you wanted to follow her, could you? And, how would you go about it?”

“I’m sure I could. I would follow from a distance; everything here is very open, so I figure I can see a long way. And, if … I were dressed differently and … was taller, I could mingle with other students among the little groups that walk together. I just need to stay behind her.”

“I agree. She barely ever looks back to see if someone is following her. She needs improvement, or she’s going to run into the wrong sort one day and be entirely unprepared.”

After Canelo had been gone for a while, Poe and Marie made their way back to the gates, dropped off their guest tokens, and took the long way down via the stairs.

….

A few notes:

1. I didn’t expect that Marie would see the trio when I first planned this, but … they’re right there! How can I not? If someone wants to determine which classes are on which days, that would make the conversation more accurate.

I know, for instance, that during Lacer’s last planned class—he didn’t attend due to aberrant attack—Sebastien gave Ana and Damien pointers (inciting mild jealously in her classmates). On the 9th, they get the memorable turtle lecture. But! Wednesday also appears Burberry’s Modern Magics class in chapter 12:

Her ire with Professor Pecanty flared back to life when she returned to Modern Magics on Wednesday, but she suppressed it.

Professor Burberry used a dab of hair-loss potion on the mice they had used to practice the color-changing transmogrification spell, then used another potion to help the fur regrow.

I’ve understood this to mean Pecanty’s refusal to answer S.’s questions about transmogrification made her mad that she didn’t do better in Burberry’s Wednesday class. But, if she’s not in Modern Magics on Wednesdays, I’ll need to change that bit of dialog in this chapter.

2. I’m going slightly off canon for Canelo’s first visit to the secret thaumaturge meeting, or maybe not. It depends on whether S. lies here:

“This is good,” Oliver said, moving to pull a rolled-up map from one of his cabinets. “Actually, very good.”
She stared at him.
“Not that you lost track of the girl. I’m talking about the secret meeting. I’ve wanted to get an eye into a place like that since I came to this city. You can vouch for a Verdant Stag member to join!”
She shook her head. “The rules state you must have been a member for at least six months and have brought a certain amount of value to the group before you can recommend new members.”
He was visibly disappointed, but said, “Well, next time, make note of what people offer and need, and let me know. There might be some good business opportunities for the Verdant Stag. I’ll give you a couple gold for each meeting.”

This rule is not mentioned when S. actually attends the meeting. Sus. So, writing the fanfic this way, Canelo could never bring Newton when she does. Is S a liar? Or maybe she was lied to? (hey, um, scary Raven Queen. We want to know that you’ll be attending meetings in good faith and not murdering us all, so don’t recommend anyone for awhile, k?)

It’s the first time I’m definitely crosswise with canon. But, I hope this will be a minor flaw.

[Stef]

I love the latest chapters!

Class schedule is here: Grimoire: Class Schedule – Azalea Ellis

[JKlarinet]

@Stef

Class schedule is here: Grimoire: Class Schedule – Azalea Ellis

Oh! Well that’s the easy way. I pored through the book and did searches … Thank you for this.

[JKlarinet]

This is late, and has many typos; I’ll try to fix it for you tomorrow.

Chapter 29: Stolen Goods

Frank Poe

Month 12, Day 10, 9:00 AM

On the following day, Frank still had a number of errands to run left over from the previous day.

When Frank and Marie had finished their business at the University, Poe’s exhaustion from lack of sleep finally caught up with him, and they returned to the August Agency for a long rest. Or rather Frank rested, and Marie studied. And, while he was able to redeem Lacer’s draft in the evening, Marie was most interested in the money, 150 gold, which had more than made up for a few weeks of effort.

Still, prospective clients hadn’t filled the office yet. The August Agency had a long way to go before it would be a consistent source of income. Marie, in particular, seemed invested in the profitability of the Agency. And the first thing she wanted, was the ledgers that Frank had used for the scrying. Frank dutifully handed them over, and Marie sniffed them suspiciously.

“Master Poe, these smell … singed. Did you attempt to burn them?”

“No. I used them in a scrying spell.”

“Oh, were you divining where our next clients would be coming from?”

“No. I was looking for you.”

“Shame. I figure we can’t continue to make much money investigating the Raven Queen.” Marie opened the yellowed and a folded corner fell from the ledger onto her table. “Why are my ledgers crispy?”

“Sometimes magic has inefficiencies. Components can be destroyed when drawing upon their nature.”

“In future, see if you can find a different component. Do I need to give you a lock of hair or something? That’s a lot less valuable than an accurate ledger.”

“No!” Frank replied exasperated. “Don’t give your hair or nail clippings or anything to anyone! You should burn or destroy any of those sorts of things, malicious actors can hurt you with that sort of thing. Especially blood and bandages.”

“Yuck.” Marie frowned.

“Sympathetic magic curses and similar.”

“Like?”

“Spell arrays. Or, Mommets; Dolls. Largely outlawed of course, but difficult to trace.”

“Wizards play with dolls?”

“You can’t believe … you’re teasing me?”

Marie grinned. “I am. I know all the old stories. Sticking poppets with needles was a curse in the Mrs. Holyoke mystery stories Madame read to me when I was small.”

Frank sighed. “Mommets are a real method of attack, but sympathetic spell arrays are clearer, more powerful, and … deadly.”

“Illegal?”

“Do you suppose that if you made the enemy of the Crown, or Lord Morrow, that the illegality would stand in their way?”

“Maybe? Blood magic is punishable by death.”

“I can assure you, if someone is good enough to use your hair to hurt you, they are probably good enough not to get caught. Although there are many counters: wards, reverse scrying, artifacts, and other more esoteric defenses.”

Marie blanched slightly.

“I was wondering; how did they catch Ennis?”

“They found him in a brothel. He doesn’t appear to be magically talented, a bit of a … let’s just say he’d be the sort of man to visit the parlor regularly.”

“This is the person that raised the Raven Queen’s father?”

“I wouldn’t say raised, necessarily. The Raven Queen learned her magic from her Grandfather. What she learned from Ennis … I do not know.”

“Well, how did they live?”

“Ennis seems to have tricked people out of their money.”

“How?”

“He … huh.” Frank felt it before he consciously made the connection. “He would pretend to be someone with money or power. He’d give the appearance of wealth through appearance or ….”

Frank realized there was a connection he missed. ‘What happened to his trinkets? His clothes?’ Frank thought.

Frank strode away, mid-conversation, and went to his desk. He barely noticed that Marie followed him from her table.

He pulled out the file, then decoded it with a slight twist of his will—wincing as he did, then flopped it open over the old spell array he’d yet to clean up. He skimmed the sections on Ennis again and skipped to the information about where his possessions supposedly were.

‘They weren’t in his room!”

“What does that mean?” Marie asked.

Frank looked up at her, and smiled. “Let’s do some shopping!”

“Boots?” Marie grinned back.

“Sure. Also, a fire lighter, smoking box, comb, and maybe even some clothes!”

“Um?”

“I know just where we should shop too …” Frank snatched his coat off the rack and strode out of the office with Marie practically jogging to keep up. They walked just down the street. If Marie was disappointed to return to the junk shop with the little green antler’s painted in the corner of the window, she didn’t show it.

Unfortunately, neither of them were dressed like poor locals, so getting a bargain at the shop might be difficult. Marie’s dress, after being shifted to the black, gave her an elegance and style that made her appear every inch a young scion of wealth. Frank hadn’t thought about that when he’d rushed out. Now how would he get a reasonable price for anything?

‘What I need is …’ Frank’s thoughts were interupted by the glinting box that he saw through the grimy window. Frank stifled a grin.

Frank had a short conversation with Marie, and they entered the shop together.

Frank paused inside to give his eyes a moment to adjust to the darker shop. He idly wondered if the dim lighting made the second-hand products more attractive. A few customers appeared to be sifting through the racks of clothes.

The same shopkeeper wandered out among the shelves, with the same avarice in his eyes as last time. This time, however, Frank was ready. He walked quite near the shopkeeper but pointedly ignoring the man. Marie followed and they wandered to the displays. Frank took out a mirror that he began waving around the cases of trinkets.

Frank prearranged this signal with Marie.

“Edward, I just don’t understand, how could you lose my birthday gift? I even bought an enchanted one so that you would always know where it was.” Marie said. Frank felt that she did quite a good job sounding naturally like a wealthy brat.

“I did not lose it. It was stolen from me! My coat and everything.” Frank replied. “But, I’ll surprise that thief! I’ve got the scrying mirror from the enchanter, and I’m sure that its somewhere here.”

The shopkeeper tried to look nonchalant, but his eyes told a different story. He was glancing nervously to the curtain that lead to the back of the shop.”

“There it is!” Frank pointed to a fancy box for smoking supplies. “Sir,” Frank addressed the shopkeeper. “You are in possession of stolen goods! I demand you turn my property over to me this instant.”

Perhaps the shopkeeper was used to such scams, because he narrowed his eyes. But, he also was glancing anxiously at the few other customers who began to subtly listening in. But, if the man remembered Frank at all, he would be more suspicious.

But, as usual, there was not even a flicker of recognition.

“Respectfully sir, we only receive goods here from honest sources. What proof do you have of ownership?”

“It’s right there! I’ve walked all over town with this enchantment to find it!” Frank flashed the ordinary mirror around but didn’t let the man get a good look.

“Sir, please calm yourself. What proof do you have that this smoking box is yours?”

“If you open the lid, you will see my initials engraved on the inside. ‘E.N.’ for Edward North. Go ahead then, check! You’ll see I’m right.” Ennis had supplied a very helpful description of the box to the coppers.

The shopkeeper reluctantly did so, and with a depressed sigh, showed Frank the initials.

“Hand it over then.”

“But sir, we paid good coin in exchange for this. We’ll lose that money …”

“Perhaps you can explain your stolen goods to the Coppers!” Frank shouted. He was really beginning to enjoy this. The customers snuck a little closer. He wanted to make sure they got a good show.

Frank still reckoned that he would pay up, but he’d get a discount. He was about to offer something out of reconsidered sympathy, when the shopkeeper took the initiative on his own.

“Sir, would you consider a finder’s fee for it perhaps?”

The man’s gall was only matched by Frank’s own. Frank tried to put on an offended, but thoughtful, expression.

“Only if my comb and fire-lighter are here as well.” Frank replied. “And, if they are in perfect condition after being handled by some grubby thief!”

Marie turned around abruptly to hide her grin from the shopkeeper. Frank couldn’t be sure that the other customers’ caught her smile, but the eavesdroppers still tried to keep a distance sufficient to plausibly argue they were shopping. Although, unless Frank’s curse hit them as well, the listeners would share the petty drama all over the neighborhood within an hour.

The shopkeeper’s eyes drifted over the case of combs and a shelf behind the counter that seemed to include enchanted trinkets. Frank watched him carefully. With the descriptions of the items from Ennis, he took another risk and pointed to the remaining objects that he suspected were Ennis’

“There they are! Well. I suppose a finder’s fee wouldn’t be out of the question.” Frank dropped a pair of gold coins onto the counter. He daren’t risk trying to locate the clothes. A scry with the other objects might have shown him, but he wasn’t comfortable trying magic after he was already on orders to not cast for weeks.

The shopkeep looked sadly down at the gold pieces, but he took them. Frank suspected he’d paid only slightly more.

“Perhaps you would be interested in some of our other wares?” The man asked. Frank turned and whispered to Marie.

“Do you see a pair of boots you’d like?”

Marie gave him a cold look.

“I don’t think secondhand boots are sufficient apology, do you?”

Frank hid his smile.

“No, I suppose not.”

“Sir?” The shopkeeper asked. Frank turned back to him.

“Well. Since you’ve been so reasonable, we needn’t bother to call the coppers after all.”

Walking out of the shop, Frank left the shopkeeper vaguely red faced, the witnesses baffled, and a few coins lighter. But Frank smiled. Marie followed him out.

“So, why did you need to make up a new name? Who is E.N. really?” Marie asked when they started walking back to the agency’s office.

“Ennis Naught. Someone, probably Siobhan Naught, took his clothing and worldly possessions from the inn room where they were staying. When Ennis didn’t get these items returned to him in prison, he complained.”

“How did you know that they would be in that shop?”

“It’s a little piece of the pattern, isn’t it? Siobhan Naught is poor. That was the entire reason Ennis brought her to the University to try to get a sponsor. She’s unlikely to have much money at all, and the only things she has of value are Ennis’ things. She needed to sell them.”

“Why would she sell them?”

“She’s a sorcerer who needs a new conduit, but she’s very very poor. It’s not ‘only eat cake on weekends’ poor; Siobhan Naught is ‘begging on street corners’ poor.

The file makes it clear that Ennis is all bluff; he doesn’t have any real money. Once you know that the Raven Queen is that poor, and that she has allies with the Stags, obviously she’ll sell the goods through one of their fences. Maybe that shop is honest, or maybe its not, but

“Why not sell the book?”

“Something like that is so priceless it is also worthless. The only people that would pay for it, like the Crowns or the University, could take it from her as easy as a snowcap eagle stealing a fish from the fishers’ nets.”

“This wouldn’t have been enough for a conduit.”

“Not really, no. Even a fence doesn’t pay market value.”

Marie seemed to think this over, even as they returned to the office and dumped the junk on Frank’s desk. Marie finally seemed ready to ask the question she’d been forming.

“Couldn’t you just ask him what she looked like?”

“I could, but there’s a handful reasons that’s not likely to help. Can you guess some of them?”

Marie thought for a bit.

“He’s going to pretend or lie; say that he doesn’t remember. No one likes a fence that would snitch.”

“Well reasoned! Since we aren’t the coppers, he has reason to lie and we have no way of proving otherwise. But even if he was truthful? We already know what the Raven Queen actually looks like, her posters are up all around town. Even if someone else sold him the goods, more likely than not I’ll end up tracing them to the Verdant Stag. They won’t tell me anything. But there is something else we can do.”

“What?”

“Scry the seller’s location. Once I have my strength back, we might give it a try. For now though …”

Frank withdrew a glass box from his desk and put the three objects in it.

“This will keep them safe till we’re ready to use them. Hopefully they were sold recently, otherwise the spell will just point to the shopkeeper. Now. Boots?”

Marie grinned. Frank led them back out into the streets to find Marie a decent cordwainer.

“I like Schumacher’s; do you know it?” Frank asked as the walked. Marie shook her head. Frank continued: “It’s in the middle of the city, and their custom boots are treated to be waterproof with thick soles that don’t slip even on wet decking or icy streets. Simple, but enchantments aren’t always what you want.”

“Do they make them in black?”

“Of course!”

[Stef]

I love this new chapter!!!

[JKlarinet]

It’s crazy how writing this feels so different from reading it. This chapter (and the next couple) feel like they will be challenging. I’m in a story gap in Azalea’s book, so there’s all kinds of freedom. My sense is this is a more challenging space. I had all these ideas through the Moonsable Arc, but now, because I don’t know exactly what I want these two to be up to as I approach the final arc of the plot (and my planned ending point), I’m slowing down. The holiday didn’t help.

I’m already a day late on my writing schedule; I’ll have to finish today, and, let’s be real, that’s not likely to happen.

[Stef]

A slowdown is ok. Sometimes you have to give your brain time to percolate. You never know what direction the writing will take until you start.

[JKlarinet]

Sorry this was so slow. I makes up for it by being long?

Chapter 30: Origami in Windows

Marie

Month 12, Day 10, 12:00 PM

Poe lead them to the center of the city, to Waterside Market. Even in the afternoon, the market filled with people of all different kinds and types. Obvious sorcerers with thick books filled with metal plates mingled with witches, wealthy patrons, and ordinary folks looking for the fine finished goods that made the city famous in the known world.

Despite everything, Marie felt good. She’d rested, and while the phantom pain of a knife in her chest still bothered her, she felt just as healthy as she’d been before her accident.

Marie kept an eye out for pickpockets and thieves. Poe wandered down the street of shops as if he hoped a pickpocket would find him. He paused and window shopped constantly, irritating Marie because these would be the ideal moment for a thief to “bump” into him and put a hand in his pocket. Poe, however, seemed entirely oblivious to this danger. At least, Marie knew he carried at least a conduit in a pocket, and that would be a prize.

Marie had tucked her own conduit into one of the pockets in her new dress. She didn’t need it, and she only knew a couple of spells, and Poe already told her that she should not cast even her esoteric spell until he approved.

As they passed a booth with a street performer doing a minor illusion, Poe stopped again, perhaps to critique the performers work.

“Notice,” Poe said, “how the spell array covers the back of the booth, and he is standing outside it?”

Marie nodded, glanced at the array, but kept her attention on a young boy that was brushing his way through the crowd in their direction. He brushed past several others, like he was trying to get a closer look. But, Marie noticed he paid no attention to the show. Marie thought he seemed familiar.

“A spell array may appear to be a flat plane, but often it’s a sphere or dome. That’s why …”

Marie gasped as the boy tried to reach in Poe’s coat. But, before the boy’s hand even came close, and seemingly without looking, Poe grabbed the boy’s arm as he reached for Poe’s pocket. Poe turned his full attention on the boy.

Marie recognized him now.

“Jemnie?” Marie blurted. The boy pulled at Poe’s grip, trying to break it by pulling his arm away, but Poe’s hand held tight.

“Marie? Help! I didn’t do nothin’”

Poe turned toward Marie and raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, Master Poe, this is Jemnie.”

Poe turned his gaze back on the boy. Through his tinted spectacles, Marie could see Poe’s eyes had narrowed.

“Jemnie. Pleasure to meet you, shall we step away from the crowd and talk?”

Without letting go, or waiting for a response, Poe practically dragged the boy away from the group and toward an empty alley.

“Marie, how would you happen to know him?”

Jemnie was an orphan only a year or two younger, and he’d been working his way up through the Morrows organization. Sometimes his jobs were legitimate; for example, he worked in the laundry at the Hands, Hearts, and Palms from time to time.

However, that wasn’t how Marie first met him. The Morrows had trained him up as a pickpocket for the occasional run at the Waterside Market. Almost all the Morrow’s kids grew up practicing at least some pickpocket work; it was easy to learn, and the Coppers didn’t cut off kid’s hands as often when they were caught.

“Marie?” Poe asked. She had taken a bit too long to answer. Marie decided truth was better than lying.

“He’s a Morrow pickpocket; I was his bump for awhile.”

“Bump?” Poe’s expression darkened.

“Distraction for marks. I’d worked with Jemnie a little until Madame started teaching me bookkeeping.”

Poe actually seemed relieved by this response.

“I see. Where’s your partner?” Poe asked Jemnie. Jemnie shook his head, appearing somewhat panicked. Marie spoke up before he answered.

“He probably doesn’t have one today; he’s using the show as his distraction.”

“I see.” Frank glanced up at the attentive crowd. “The performer has to keep the spell up, but he can still see the crowd. He would notice Jemnie here.” Poe looked down on the boy, who was still struggling with Poe’s grip. “So, you share your take with the performer then?”

Jemnie, wide eyed, nodded.

“I’m not hopeful you’ll learn this lesson. But I suggest that you are done for the day, right?”

“Yes sir.” Jemnie stopped fighting. Poe did not apparently want retribution. Marie breathed out a long slow breath.

“Try not to forget, ok?”

“Yes sir.”

Poe let the pickpocket go and the boy dashed away into the crowd. Marie thought Poe probably did that for her. When the Coppers caught a child pickpocket, their career ended pretty quickly, because the Waterside had dedicated Copper patrols, and the Coppers had plenty of former pickpockets watched. Getting caught a second time ended with a trip to the mines.

“He’s going to forget.” Poe observed as he watched Jemnie go.

“Thanks. I know you just let him go for my benefit.”

“You need not worry. I suppose I’ve been making myself look like a mark, eh?”

“I wouldn’t say that …”

“But, I was.” Poe shook his head. “All that stopping. No wonder you’ve been antsy.”

Marie didn’t realize she’d been telegraphing her concern so strongly. Poe sighed.

“It may not be entirely apparent, but I am observing my surroundings, Marie.”

“It’s just that you are not the most … street savvy. For instance, he took your components in the right outer pocket.”

Poe looked bemused. “He tried to take the components from the outer pocket, but he failed.” Poe withdrew a handful of items: a marble, a folded piece of paper, a tiny piece of red coral, a pair of maple seeds, and a knotted chord.

“But, I saw him …”

“Oh yes, he put his hand in the pocket, but he didn’t access the hidden space inside. He would have to be a much better pickpocket than that and slip past the enchantment.

“Did he get anything?”

“I don’t keep anything in the main pocket. Too easy to be pickpocketed!” Poe laughed, then he turned serious, and quiet, leaning down to Marie’s ear, he asked: “Would people recognize you from your less-than-legal work in the Waterside Market?”

“Oh no. I dressed less conspicuously, and we never got caught.” Marie whispered back.

Poe nodded, and they returned to the crowd, browsing the shops and stalls.

Marie worried that Jemnie would return and attempt Poe’s pockets a second time; because of Poe’s curse, he’d probably already began to wonder why he’d even stopped.

Mindful of Poe’s lesson regarding Canello, Marie began to attempt to determine if Jemnie worked his way back behind them. But, in keeping an eye out for the boy, she noticed another party following behind them.

This follower she did not recognize. The Morrows had teams of thieves and pickpockets, but so did other criminal organizations. Who knew what other thieves Poe’s obvious wealth would attract. Marie began to worry that another group was following them.

Specifically, Marie spotted a older teen-aged girl dressed in a plain brownish-red dress, with a bag slung over her shoulder. Marie began looking for the girl’s reflection in windows, and glanced out of the corner of her eye to watch for the girl.

When Poe stopped, the following teen also would also seemingly stop and look at a street vendor, or in a shop’s window. When Poe moved, the teen took a moment to resume walking, but when she did, she would speed up to match their pace. Yet, she still stayed well behind Poe and Marie.

‘I’m imagining things.’ Marie thought. ‘No one has any reason to follow us. Poe is well dressed, but he’s not flashing money or anything.’

After a while, Poe stopped looking in the windows, and they carried on walking through the Waterside market. Marie relaxed a bit. Without Poe’s constant stopping, she felt that they dodged any further pickpocketing from the one following them. Even though Poe walked a bit too fast for Marie, she didn’t want him to slow down now that they had taken some initiative.

They arrived at Schumacher’s windowed shop and stepped inside. Even the showroom smelled of clean leather and hide glue, but Marie hadn’t seen anything like it.

Unlike the little old cobbler she’d gone to for her pair of boots that had been repaired and resized for her, this shop sold only new boots and shoes. Well dressed salesmen met customers in the open and well-lit showroom. Comfortable looking couches in the middle of the room, had customers sitting while having their feet measured and apprentices looked on and took notes. Behind the long counter that stood opposite the shop entry, the actual boot-makers cut leather, pressed it to forms, sewed soles with treadle powered machines, and strung laces.

Displayed along the walls were examples of the types of shoes and boots available. There wasn’t a single price tag in sight.

But, Marie knew instantly which boots she wanted. The tall back boots called to her the instant she noticed them, and she immediately walked straight to them and began to examine their construction.

Sitting in the window display, The Boots—capital letters required—were made with alchemical rubber soles as thick as the second joint of Marie’s biggest finger, sewn to a stiff black leather, that went up over the knee. Softer pleated leather panels allowed the boot to fit around the calf to put them on. But, the boot-maker use a clever arrangement of two sets of laces: one a set of laces across the front with metal gooks and grommets tightened to have the boots snug when taking them on and off, and a second set of leather laces to adjust the fit on the outside and to form the shape precisely. Even if the wearer gained weight or the leather stretched, The Boots could adjust and would always fit the calves. The toe was square and stitched from over-lapping leather so that it had a cap of extra thickness and the toe wouldn’t wear out.

Marie’s old leather soled boots were tough, but the soles had needed replacing regularly, and the leather would soak with water and fail. Her old boots once had the toes patched, even before she’d owned them.

This bootmaker designed The Boots for either canal workers or riders, because they had a molded, but thick, low heel. The Boots hardened rubber soles had studded treads and would be entirely waterproof. All the features suggested that she could wade through calf high water, and her feet would stay dry.

These boots would be practically invincible, waterproof, and looked like armor for her claves and knees.

“So. Those boots?” Poe said. Marie turned to Poe, who was smiling and his eyes glinting with satisfaction.

“Yes. Please.” Marie tried to remain outwardly calm. Inside she was jumping up and down squealing.

Poe called a salesman over. They had to wait, and Marie jittered with excitement. When the attendant finally came over her began explaining all the features of The Boots. For instance, an inner sole made of cork would be fitted to her foot, and would remain comfortable even after hours of standing, and the entire boot was treated with alchemical waterproofing that needed only be refreshed annually.

Marie just wanted him to shut up and get to measuring. Poe politely allowed the man to give his pitch on all The Boots fine qualities, and finally, he directed the apprentice to take measurements.

“Do you know, sir, we recently had a customer request an expanding boot? Our master cordwainer has already designed a version that will let her wear these boots even as the young lady’s feet grow. Or, we can give you a reference to a cobbler that can refit these for you, for an extra fee, of course.” The attendant suggested.

Poe glanced at Marie.

“Standard boots.” Marie told Poe. Marie wasn’t at all sure she was going to get much bigger, and, anyway, that seemed like a long time off. The attendant didn’t seem at all bothered.

As the attendant took measurements while Marie sat facing the window, Marie looked to the street outside. The market bustled, except for the individual sulking at the corner of the building across the street. The girl with the bag.

Marie gestured to Poe.

“Poe. We’re being followed.” Marie whispered to him.

Poe didn’t look surprised.

“I agree. She’s been hanging around waiting for the entire time we’ve been in here, but she moved regularly when we were outside.” Poe murmured. “Do you recognized her? Is she a Morrow?”

“Not one that I know. It’s a big organization.”

“She’s not wearing red. Nor any green that I can see.”

“Do you … want to confront her?” Marie asked. A fight could get them arrested. And, it might be a copper, or the Red Guard.

“No. We’ll let this play out a bit. Keep your eye out for more of them though. I’m not in good shape to defend with magic, and you were almost dead a few days ago, so running might be out.”

“So, you were stopping to watch for her?”

“No … I was looking at the origami in the windows.”

“I didn’t know you liked folding paper.”

“I don’t.”

Marie wasn’t sure what to make of Poe’s repsonse. If he didn’t like origami, why look at it? After a few minutes of contemplation, while the clerk finally taking the measurements, Marie and Poe were finally free to leave.

As they stepped out of the shop, Poe walked in the opposite direction than Marie expected. They walked toward the University. Along the way, they stopped at a street vendor and bought a late lunch. Their tail tried to remain inconspicuous, but as the crowds thinned, trailing after them became even more conspicuous. As they walked past shops meant for the wealthy and manors, Poe eventually guided them to the University lifts, but he took them to post office there.

“What are we doing here?”

“Writing a note to Cannello; the next meeting is in just a few days.”

“How do you know? Did you talk to someone last night?”

“No.”

Poe wrote his message, and left it with at the office. They stepped back on the street, and the woman followed them back toward the agency. She was hanging pretty far back, and Marie felt ok to start a conversation as they walked.

Marie had not yet asked Poe about the “black market” meeting. She took a certain amount of criminal activity in stride, but what sort of magic was illegal, besides blood magic? Was Poe actually a blood sorcerer? She tried to ask without seeming worried.

“Why do Sorcerers even have a secret meeting? The Night Market has everything, doesn’t it?”

“Are you familiar with the idea that there are two sorts of laws?”

“Ah, no? Isn’t there just one kind of law?”

Poe shrugged.

“The theory goes like this: the first kind of laws ban immoral, evil, or contemptible behavior. Murder, Rape, or Theft. Your pickpocketing friend, for example. His behavior is immoral and undermines fundamental societal norms. So, those are not not just illegal, they are also wrong.”

Marie wasn’t so sure about that, the pickpockets always targeted people who could afford to have slightly light pockets. But then … some Morrows didn’t care. If someone didn’t wear red, their stuff was fair game. Marie conceded that stealing was generally wrong. So, she nodded.

“There’s a second kind of law though; laws that aren’t universal. It’s against the law because the Crown said so. Laws that just keep people from sharing information, or charge fees to exchange otherwise legal goods. Laws that ban things because its banned. You understand?”

“Blood magic?”

“Blood magic can be both. Some blood magic is good, when applied in the right situation. But, when abused, well, people that murder for a longer life or a more powerful magic, that type of magic is evil. … I’m getting off topic. Which kind of law do you think a group of sorcerers might be willing to avoid?”

“The second kind.”

“Exactly. Sorcery is regulated heavily, and some of those regulations chafe the sort of sorcerer that works on the fringes of the law.”

“Like you?”

“Obviously not me,” Poe smirked, “I am a mere private investigator.”

Marie rolled her eyes. He was teaching her magic, and that was illegal. But, Marie thought she understood. It was like keeping two sets of books; one that kept track of the real income, and one to show the Morrows bosses.

“So, the meetings aren’t like secret blood sorcerers?”

“It is my hope that you will never have a reason to attend. But, these meetings are not anything more than a gossip session with some tax dodging.”

Marie relaxed. That did not sound so bad.

Poe suddenly gripped Marie’s arm and lead her quickly around a corner and stepped into a lone carriage that seemed to have dropped a wealthy passenger at a manor house. He directed the driver to the August Agency’s address.

As they rode away, the young woman rounded the corner.

Marie decided that waving to the young woman as they rode away would be a little bit much.

[Stef]

A gossip session with some tax dodging.

I’m DEAD.

[JKlarinet]

I just get the impression that, at least to someone like Siobhan or Frank, the meetings are a Malum prohibitum sort of thing. Although there hints of things that are darker, it is pretty clear that the Raven Queen is a much harder criminal than that group is used to, and I have feeling that openly violent sorcerers both can not get in, or would be expelled if they did manage it.

Although this is part of why I designed Poe the way he is; he needs to be a member for story reasons. Poe and Marie are not terribly ethical people, but they are trying to be better. Kind of.

[JKlarinet]

Chapter 31: Explaining the Nature of Things

Marie

Month 12, Day 12, 8:00 AM

Marie opened the Agency early. Poe awoke early and they had breakfast together. He treated her almost like a full partner; discussing his plans to attend the meeting and how they might find some new business.

On the other hand, as Poe’s apprentice, she learned that cleaning up the massive spell array in his office was one of her responsibilities. At least Poe explained how his peculiar divination array worked, although he did not permit her to copy and memorize the glyphs, so she just memorized them without his permission and when he wasn’t watching.

While in the midst of this task, familiar heavy boots thumped on the wooden entryway, then the office’s door banged open. Dinky, with Mama close behind, entered.

“Mama!” Marie popped up from cleaning the ink from the floorboards and went to hug her mother. Mama seemed looking tired, but well. “I missed you.” Marie said, muffled a bit by her Mama’s dress.

Dinky, however, had bruises on his face, arms, and winced a bit when he walked.

“Dinky? What happened to you?”

“Aberrant. Red Guard made me swear not to tell.” Dinky replied.

“Sounds like them.” Poe said. “Although they could have healed you up a bit better.”

“They did some, but t’ey stopped after I punched their ‘ealer.” Dink looked slightly embarrassed. “I wasn’t feeling myself; healer was nice fella, I felt real bad later that I ‘it ‘im.” For a man so big, Dinky hunched a bit. “And, I sorry about …” He trailed off.

“Do you remember then?” Marie asked.

Dinky nodded. “I don’t know ‘ow I coulda done that to you. I am very sorry.” Dinky said. Marie saw tears in his eyes.

“It was an aberrant.” Poe said. “Marie has explained it to me. When others were violent and attacked, somewhere deep inside you were still trying to protect Marie. Even though we should talk about it; she was quite badly injured.”

“You were there?” Dinky asked. “I don’t remember you.”

“I was.” Poe replied. “I’d like to stay and explain, but …” Poe looked at Marie, and she realized what would happen if he stayed. He told Marie that he would be in his room, so they could have the office for Marie to explain. With Poe gone, Mama and Dinky could remember the conversation.

Marie explained what they knew. Dinky, it turned out, couldn’t say much more about it from his perspective, because of the Red Guard oaths, so this was the first time Mama had heard the whole story.

Dinky interjected several apologies for locking her in the cellar, but Marie had already forgiven him. She knew he wasn’t himself, even at the time.

When Marie admitted that she stabbed herself, Mama and Dinky blanched. To her embarrassment, Marie began crying. Even thinking about it all these days later, she could still remember that horrible fear of dying.

Mama embraced her. “Are you still hurt? I’ll pay for if your healing wasn’t no good.”

“No, Mama, he took me to a healer right away. One of … the Stags’.” And then Marie had to admit that Poe carried her to the Verdant Stag and had gotten help from healer there.

“Marie, the Stags? The Morrows been snooping around looking for any way to shut them down.”

“Why Momma?”

“Rumor is that the Stags are moving into magic components. The Morrows make a lot of money form that, and they ain’t having no truck with the Stags competin’.”

“Who says that?”

“Kett” Dinky rumbled, “has been coming in and taking ‘is due lately, and e’s complaining to the girls.”

“Be careful. The Pack have been wandering through our parts of the city.” Momma said.

“The Morrows have the biggest portion. They could be buying stuff.” Marie protested.

“They aren’t. All the Morrows enforcers are on alert. They know something is coming, but they don’t know what. Madame asked about glamours when I left. She made a deal with Poe, and she wants it honored.”

“What is he supposed to do?” Marie didn’t remember him talking about taking that case.

“Trying to find a person willing to cast glamours on Morrows people.”

“I’ll mention it.”

Momma and Dinky needed to return to work, and so Marie walked them to the door.

The street was quiet, and there was hardly anyone walking. Mama and Dinky made it just a few steps when a group of five men wearing green came out of an alley, then blocked Mama and Dinky’s path.

Marie spun and called for Poe.

Poe ran down the stairs from his room, then, glancing through the doorway, headed out to the street to intercept the confrontation. In the grey morning, he was ablaze with a yellow and orange suit, his koi covered coat fluttering out behind him.

“Marie, stay here.” Poe said as he strode out.

“Oy!” The lead Stag called to Dinky and Mama. “What you doing in our territory?”

Poe caught up to them and stepped directly around Mamma and stood right between the two sides.

“Visiting her daughter.” Poe said.

Poe showed his conduit between two fingers. The conduit sparkled in the sunlight. Showing his conduit like that, he appeared prepared to cast magic.

The group of Stags went very still and stared at it. The sorcerers’ reputation meant that a thug might never knew what a sorcerer had prepared. A sorcerer was like a water snake in the canal, better leave it alone to go its own way than suffer a painful and potentially deadly bite.

“No Morrows in Stag Territory.” The group’s speaker replied. Marie noted he lacked a tremor in his voice.

‘Brave or stupid?’ Marie wondered.

“You seem unaware of the nature of things. I’m running a neutral business here, as your leadership damn well knows. I’ve sent plenty of warnings about this nonsense, and I’ll write one more in your flesh if I have to. I am on amicable terms with Lord Stag, so I’ll leave it to you to explain why you’ve made me into an enemy.”

Marie was surprised that Dinky and Mama were quiet, then Marie realized their hands were subtly moving toward pockets for hidden weapons.

“Someone pulled the chord.” The Stag enforcer said.

“It’s a false alarm.” Poe replied. “There’s no Morrows business going on here, is there?” Poe shifted slightly to imply he’d directed the question to Mamma. Dinky answered.

“No Morrows business. Just visiting Master Sorcerer Poe’s apprentice.”

Marie knew she’d told Dinky that Poe was not a Master. But, the suggestion of Poe’s Mastery escalated the Stags’ risk. Marie always though Dinky was pretty simple, but maybe he wasn’t?

“We don’t mean no disrespect.”

“Do not test me.” Poe said. The koi shifted and swam on the surface of Poe’s coat. Even from the doorway, Marie sensed Poe’s furious and jagged emotion from the doorway of the August Agency. Poe continued speaking.

“You won’t remember any threats I make today, so I’ll not waste my breath on any ultimatums. But, in this moment I’ll tell you the truth: if my curse works the way I think it does, and if end you here, your mothers won’t even remember your names.” Marie couldn’t see, but she could hear dark humor in Poe’s voice. “I could find out, if you’re volunteering?”

The five enforcers shuffled away from Poe slightly.

“No, uh, sir. I can see this has all been a misunderstanding.”

“Good.” Poe replied. The Stag enforcers reluctantly turned and, with furtive glances backwards, stumbled off. Poe, Dinky, and Mama watched them go.

Poe turned and gazed at Dinky and Mama.

“I appreciate your quick thinking, and that you had weapons ready to assist me. If possible, I do prefer to keep the violence to a minimum. Have a good day.”

Dinky nodded, and then they continued on their way.

Marie’s careful gaze on Poe’s return to the Agency’s doorway must have seemed puzzled.

“What is it Marie? You seem confused.” Poe lead them back into the building, but instead of heading into the office, he lead them up the stairs.

“Were you really prepared to cast magic without a circle, word, sacrifice or components?”

Poe laughed. “No, not really. I’ve studied free casting, but I really only managed to levitate objects and I know a smattering of esoteric spells that mimic free casting. Another semester or two and I’m confident I would have properly managed it.”

“You were bluffing?”

“I would have used the coat, then stolen their weapons.”

“How does the coat work?”

“It …” Poe made a strangling sound, then coughed. “I can’t say. Oath.”

“Would that have worked?”

“Maybe. I’m glad I didn’t need to find out. Especially since the doctor told me to avoid casting for a few weeks. Get your cloak.”

Poe lead the way onto the roof, and they opened the hatch to a day with fair weather, with a cold wind blowing.

“Poe, are we consulting Frigg about the glamours?”

“Yes and No. I already consulted with Frigg, and she seemed to suggested a compromise. I thought that the compromise would be with Millie.” Poe frowned. “Obviously not, not that Mille is … gone.”

‘Dead.’ Marie thought. ‘It’s nice of him to try to protect my feelings, but I have to accept that she’s dead.’

“So, what will we be asking Frigg?” Marie asked.

“I’m planning a trip to the secret meeting tonight—you can’t come by the way—and I want to know if she objects. Don’t forget your cloak.”

When they popped up on the surface of the roof, the sky was clear and cold. The roof seemed dry here, but water pooled in the corners and along the metal seams. The bowl had been left upside down, so Poe flipped it over. He rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a squashed paper bird.

He dropped it in the bowl, then sat with his legs tucked under him, and closed his eyes. Marie began to feel his will carefully expand into the space around them, like a featherlight touch, radiating calm.

Marie wore one of her secondhand dresses today, because she knew they would be cleaning, so she didnt’ worry so much about sitting on the grimy roof. But Schumacher’s had not delivered The Boots yet, so she looked skeptically at the roof, wondering if kneeling would be too cold on her legs, even with the long woolen stockings she wore.

Since she did not sit, Poe opened his eyes, and he patted the space next to him. Marie shivered a bit and sat. The roof met all her expectations for a cold metal seat.

Poe closed his eyes and began breathing slowly and deeply.

Poe did not seemingly try to call to Frigg. In fact, he seemed to be doing nothing at all. ‘Did he fall asleep?’ Marie wondered. ‘No, the roof is too cold for that. Even with whatever warmth his coat has.’

Marie didn’t have much to do, other than wait, and think.

The gang war seemed like it was not far off. The Morrows were a big organization, and they held both magical and nonmagical advantages. Lord Morrow’s gang always had an information advantage. Their sources in the coppers, on the docks, and even among compromised Crowns, gave them the information edge for decades.

Something about the Stags, however, confused them. The loyalty his people showed? Lord Stag’s secrecy from prying eyes? Lord Stag also seemed better prepared in his territory; the flags had summoned those enforcers almost immediately.

Lord Stag’s reputation allowed him to make allies. Marie noticed how hard he’d tried to recruit Poe. He allied with the Raven Queen; the Pack wanted to meet her. What dark powers could she bring to bear on the Morrows?

Marie began to worry. What if the fight came to Hands, Hearts, and Palms? Would Dinky be alright? Would Madame? Mama? Marie shivered.

After what seemed like an hour of her legs getting colder and colder—but even Marie had to admit had been less than a quarter hour—Frigg skimmed silently over the the rooftops. Marie felt a wash of gratitude when she saw those dark wings.

“Welcome.” Poe said. “And, thank you for your foresight and help to Marie and myself.” Poe nudged Marie.

“Thank you Queen of among Ravens.” Marie said.

“Kraa.” Frigg replied. Frigg accepted their praise and groomed her wings.

She bobbed her head and hopped gaily toward the bowl, seemingly unbothered by the cold metal roof. She looked at the paper bird curiously.

“You know what I will ask them tonight?” Poe asked the Raven. “And who I will bring?”

Frigg seemingly bobbed her head affirmatively. She picked up the oragami bird in her beak, and tossed it in the air and watched it fall onto the roof. She looked at it curiously with one dark eye, then she snatched the origami with her beak, and took flight back in the direction of the Mires.

“That seems like a success to me.” Poe observed.

“Me too. Can I ask a question?”

“Of course.”

“How are you expressing your will without a spell?”

“I allow my will expand outward; touching the objects and animals around me. There’s some debate between animists and shamans who developed the technique first. Perhaps ancient druids figured it out. It’s not preparing for a spell or anything like that. For me … it helps me sense connections.”

“Will you teach me?”

“When your will is better under your control, of course.”

“The roof is cold. I need my boots.” Marie stood up and rubbed her cold legs.

Poe rubbed his forehead, and stood.

“Ah, sorry. We can stay warm in the office while we clean!”

“Ugh.” Marie replied, but she was smiling.