The next morning, we pulled up at the scene of the crime. Not mine, since that one was still blocked off by government representatives and my guardians. No, the original crime. Shane’s murder. Of course, I didn’t know exactly where he had been killed, but his home was our best bet.
We approached the apartment, having parked Alexa’s car a distance away. The ex-Initiate had her gym bag slung over the shoulder of her inscrolled winter jacket. It was rather nice of her friends from the Templars to send that to her for Christmas last winter, even if the note guilting her for leaving had been rather passive-aggressive. Still, the coat was both armored and imbued with faith magic, such that she was better protected against malicious magic than even I was.
The flat was in one of those concrete block, low-income buildings that had been built in the 1960s and never really updated. Even the wallpaper in the corridors was faded and stained from years of use, no matter the amount of care taken for it. For all its wear, it was obvious the inhabitants of the building took good care of it. The floors were swept and mopped, the scent of a cleaning fluid assaulting my nose as I walked down the well-lit corridor.
Shane’s apartment was one of the larger ones, a legacy of how long the dwarf had lived there. Staring at the green door, it took me only a moment to locate the spell ward that subtly turned away unwanted visitors. This one was still intact, traces of its user still glowing.
“Are we going in?” Alexa asked impatiently. Breaking and entering had a tendency to put the ex-Initiate on edge, especially since she’d lost the protection of her order.
“One second,” I said, touching the ward. I manipulated it, pulling forth the ward’s aura.
I nodded after a second, releasing the ward, having memorized the traces of the magical signature still left on it. The ward had degraded such that I wouldn’t be able to track its caster, but if they used magic near me, it’d probably be possible to figure out who they were. Most likely, the ward maker was dead, killed by my hand yesterday. But… you never know.
After that, breaking in required two spells—one to bypass the ward, the second to open the locks. Magic made crime way too easy. It was one of the reasons why we policed each other so much—when the governments got involved, they had a tendency to overreact. Or, perhaps, because we never gave them a chance to properly react, they didn’t have a middle ground.
When I move to step in, Alexa pushes me aside, shooting me a glare that I duck my head to avoid. She enters, the buckler she carried in her gym bag on her hand while a shorter stick was held in the other. That stick, I knew, could extend to form a point of Mana-imbued force. It was one of my better inventions, though the charge could only hold for about ten minutes.
It was a good thing too that Alexa went ahead, as three steps into the apartment, she was attacked by a crazed ball of fur. She caught the attacker on her shield, holding its claws away from her face. A few struggles and three deep scratches later, I had the cat suspended in mid-air, snarling at us.
“Forgot about Charlie,” I said.
“I didn’t,” Alexa said, glaring at the deep scratches on her wrist.
She waved for me to deal with the feline while she scouted out the rest of the apartment. By the time she had come back, I’d set up a small force wall to keep the cat contained. Alexa caught me browsing through cupboards, looking for the remainder of Shane’s cat food, when she got back.
“Do you mind opening the window?” I said, gesturing outward.
Agitated and abandoned, forced to stay at home—which he hated—Charlie had proceeded to make his distaste known. Cat urine, vomit, and feces made the interior of the apartment rather horrendous for all right-thinking, breathing creatures.
Alexa quickly complied then poked her head out the window, eyeing the fire escape before walking back, carefully. Shane’s residence was, beyond its feline-induced chaos, relatively neat. The dwarf had been a collector of puzzle blocks and rocks. All across the room were mason jars filled with rocks, all of them placed in a haphazard manner with no sense—at least to my eyes—for the kind of geology they contained. As for Shane’s furniture, most of it was worn and marked, the few cushions split, stuffing falling out. But beyond that, there was a mild discomfort in being in the room, one that I only twigged on later.
Everything was a little bit smaller than it should be. I wasn’t that tall, but Shane was—had been—a dwarf. So… yeah. Chairs were a little lower, tables fitting perfectly for someone four and a half feet tall. Even the stepstool kind of made sense.
“So now what?” Alexa said, eyeing the content cat after I’d refilled its bowls.
“Now we look for a clue.”
“And what would that look like?”
“If I knew, I’d have a clue.”
Alexa groaned but proceeded to help. After we finished up going through the living room and pantry together, she relegated me to the bedroom, saying how weird it would be to go there herself. While I was browsing through sock drawers and finding contents that were all too typical, I heard a shout from Alexa.
“What is it?” I said, walking over, relieved to have left the bedroom.
“Appointment book!” Alexa said, waving at the desk she sat behind. “I think I’ve narrowed down his death day.”
I nodded, taking the book from her. We were already certain that Shane hadn’t died here. Death had a tendency to release a large amount of energy and emotions, ensuring that any practitioner of the magic arts could pick out a recent death. Unless steps were taken to disperse both the lingering death aura and the magic release. But those actions also often left their mark.
The appointment book was neatly organized, and it was clear why Alexa was certain of the day of death. Shane had a tendency to leave notes on appointments and on the day itself at the bottom of each finished day, making the appointment book part calendar and part diary. On the day in question, there were no additional notes—and it was also two days ago. Which made it well within our expectations.
“The White Scarves?” I frowned, tapping the only appointment of consequence. Unless he was taken while running groceries, that was our best bet.
“It’s the Chinese group. Tong? Triad?” Alexa scratched her head. “Secret society turned supernatural group turned sort-of gangsters?”
“I know who they are. I just don’t know where they are.” I paused, considering. “One second.” A brief phone search later, I nodded, tossing the appointment book back onto the table. “Got it.”
“You ran a search on them? What did you type in? ‘Supernatural secret societies, Chinese’?” Alexa said.
“Sort of, yeah. The associations are sort of like the Yakuza. They’ve got meeting places that are official and meant for their members to join. Clan associations, secret societies, whatever. Since the White Scarves aren’t actually a triad, it was easy finding them,” I said. “We should probably finish up here, but that seems like our best option.”
Alexa nodded, turning back to looking around the office for further clues. As for myself, I went back to poking around the bedroom, checking under the bed, looking for other tell-tale problems. Only when I was done, finding little else but dust bunnies and a small safe that contained a gun, did I remember something important.
“Lily, don’t I get a Quest or something?” I said to the empty air, knowing that the jinn was watching over me.
Of course, she couldn’t talk to me directly, but I got a reply anyway.
Quest: Do What You Were Going to Do Anyway
Find the people who put a death warrant out on your head and deal with them.
Failure: Death
Reward: You live. Also, a Level Up.
The quest notification was within expectation. The reward was much less so. I felt my mouth dry before I swiped the quest away. Like any good game, rewards were offered based off difficulty level. If Lily was willing to give me a full level, especially considering how hard the levels were getting these days, she was expecting survival to be a chore.
“Why do I have a quest telling me to keep you alive?” Alexa said, catching me staring into mid-air as I pondered this new information.
“Sorry. Lily. Do we…” I licked my lips, and paused. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Do what?”
“Stick with me. You don’t have to…” I trailed off as Alexa glared at me. “You’re free, you know.”
“And run off when my friend needs me? The devil take that.” Alexa snorted. “Even if the Templars don’t think I’m suitable anymore, the Oracle meant for me to be here. And here I’ll be.”
I blinked, recalling what Alexa said. And realizing that for all the time we’d been together, she hadn’t brought up that. That reason why she had first come into my life. And yet, even if she wasn’t an Initiate, even if she was no longer a Templar-to-be, her faith in both the Oracle and what she was meant to do was unshaken.
“Thank you,” I said, offering her a half-smile. I hoped that she was choosing right.
We stayed silent until I got out of the bedroom and spotted Charlie, curled up in the corner and looking content. The cat had gorged himself on the food and water and now slept peacefully.
“What do we do about Charlie?”
Alexa frowned. “Did Shane have friends? Someone who could take care of him? Family?”
I shook my head, glancing at the mantel. There were pictures of his departed mother. Outside of that, he had no other pictures, no brothers or sisters. “His clan?”
Alexa slowly nodded. “We should check.”
“Yeah…”
Resolved and somehow sadder than ever, we scooted out of the late dwarf’s apartment. It was a sad thing, to die and have no one to take care of your pets. Or belongings. Or…
“Hey,” I called, stopping Alexa as we walked to the elevator. “I’ll be right back.”
“What?”
I waved away Alexa’s question while trying to recall if the kitchen had any garbage bags. Then I headed back to Shane’s bedroom and sock cupboard. Some things… well, it was the right thing to do.