Vania opened her eyes with a quiet groan; her vision was blocked by the strange grey fabric of the divan's back cushions. Where...? Oh. Right. Derry's. She sat up and let her feet rest on the floor while she stretched. My back is killing me. Even lying on my side, there was too much pressure... Damn wings—too weak to fly, too delicate to block or fight with, a weak point in my spine... Utterly useless and very annoying. She stood and bent over, reaching her toes with ease, then continuing to bend and reach, sending her hands splayed out behind her heels. Ugh. My back needs a good stretch. She slowly straightened, then reached her hands fully above her head, bending herself backward; her spine popped in five places. Ow. Better, but still stiff. I'm too old for sleeping on couches, I guess. She placed her hands on her lower back and bent and stretched again.
"Good morning, Vania." Cianna smiled as she and her brother walked into the communal space.
"Good morning," Vania smiled, straightening. "Are you two helping in the kitchen again today?"
They both nodded. Kuran added, "Until after the lunch crowd. Then we're gonna go with Mom to the marketplace."
"The marketplace?" Vania frowned. She picked up the blanket and began folding it. "Is that safe?"
"That's why Dad wants us both to go with Mom," Kuran said. "We can watch over her and our little siblings."
"I see. Well..."
"Are you gonna come with us, too?" Cianna asked.
Vania smiled and ruffled Cianna's hair; "We'll see."
"Kuran. Cianna. Go on downstairs and help your mother." Derry emerged from the staircase, looking serious. After the children had disappeared downstairs, he pulled something from his pocket and handed it to Vania. "This was tacked to our door this morning."
Vania frowned; "What is it?" She flipped the paper in her hands, the clean white sheet evading her attempts at discerning its meaning. "What does it mean?"
"It's a warning."
"Nanda's gang," Vania said quietly, still staring at the blank parchment.
"Yes." Derry took the sheet from her hands. "This is what our sales ledger will look like, if we don't stop associating with you."
"What? Why?"
"There was also a note for you." He pulled a folded parchment from his pocket and held it out. "I already read it. Best way to check it for malicious spells. It's clean, in that regard, but nothing Nanda's thugs do is ever clean."
Vania took the parchment, swallowing. Her name in black ink stood out in sharp contrast to the pale parchment.
Vania Nahalora
Taila's daughter
Vania sighed, frowning, wondering aloud, "Why do they keep referring to me by referencing my mother?"
Derry sighed; "Nanda recognizes descent through the woman's side of the line, not the man's. Like the a'marlon do."
"But Nanda is tydring, not a'marlon."
He shrugged; "Her gang is predominantly women. I know she also tried to recruit your mother, back in the day."
Vania's mouth dropped and she looked over to Derry, "You don't actually think she's trying to recruit me for her gang, do you? I'm an enforcer, for the love of all the gods!"
"Ex-enforcer," Derry said quietly.
"I didn't get fired," Vania insisted. "I'm just... on an unplanned vacation."
"Merely a technicality. You told me what the man said. He wants you gone and so you are."
"He has to summon me back eventually."
"Does he?"
"Yes! If any enforcer fails to work for twenty days, they are automatically terminated."
"Hm. Well, that's not firing you, is it? Technically."
"That's... Ugh." Vania sank down onto the divan, hand over her face. She whispered, "Dammit."
"Just read the note. There's someone waiting for you outside; I told him he's not allowed in here, and the shop's not open yet."
"The dark hand?" Vania scowled. "I should go tell him to—"
"No. It's your ex-work partner."
"Bergin? Doesn't he have anything better to do? He came by last night!"
"You're other ex-work partner."
"You mean Eddin. My current work partner."
Derry sighed, patted her shoulder, and walked away; "Read the note. Then go talk to your friend. I need to join Licia in the kitchen before the kids start something on fire."
Vania sighed, flipping the folded parchment over in her hands in a continuous motion. Fired. Technically not, since he's not allowed to, but dismissed until terminated is essentially the same thing. Derry's right. Well, I wasn't right for that job, anyway. Not blinded by status enough. Too soft-hearted. Too poor. Too Marked. She scowled, parchment stopping its acrobatics. She looked down at her name on the parchment and unfolded the page. The note inside was written in the same basic script, the words just as stark as the ink.
Disgraced Enforcer Vania Nahalora,
I don't know why you refuse to meet with me. You want to catch the murderer and fulfill your so-called duties, don't you? I'm offering you one hell of a bargain—information, just for a mere meeting. Others pay much more dearly for what I offer.
I do need to speak with you, so you're forcing my hand with your reticence. I'll sweeten the deal: you come see me, and not only will I give you information on the murderous magic user, but I will also tell you the identity of the enforcers who murdered your parents. I assume, since you work with them, you'd like to know which of them have your family's blood on their hands.
If you wish to take me up on my kind offer, make your way to the Grog Hall at midnight; ask the bartender for a Petite Starless Strawberry Sherry, and you will be given further instructions.
And, just in case you're considering continuing to refuse, out of sheer stubbornness (you get that from your father, not your dear mother), I will remind you how all of us denizens of the Lower Quarter feel about enforcers, even disgraced ones. It would be quite tragic if the people you visit and establishments you frequent were to be tainted by the hateful aura of your uniform.
NTK
Vania's scowl deepened, staring at the crossed arrow and axe done in red ink beneath the initials. She crushed the note in her fist, slamming her fist on the table as she did so. "Damn it! To all the hells with that woman, and a pox on her entire gang!"
Knocking down below caught her attention. Oh. Right. I already forgot. Eddin's outside. Great. I don't care why he's here—I don't want to see him. She stood and stomped down the stairs, unlocked the door, and threw it open with a snarl.
"What do you want, Eddin?" She shut the door behind her and leaned on it, crossing her arms and glaring up at him.
"Good morning to you, too," he replied, smiling.
"Don't you have somewhere you're supposed to be?"
"Just thought you might like to hear how things went after you left. Unless Bergin filled you in last night."
"He didn't. He's smarter than you—knows when to leave me alone. Captain Murrick would fire you for talking to me, especially about work."
Eddin shrugged; "I'll take my chances. Laria's happy to be back home, but that poor girl will be scarred forever. Thankfully, the undertaker had taken Adar's body, but, as I'd asked, all the blood had been left. Laria and her mother left while we went to work."
Vania sighed, putting her hand to her face. "Spare me the details; just tell me you got him."
"I'll have to get back to you on that. As I was saying, we went to work, and wow, watching those wizards was a little crazy. They scraped and chipped up flecks of the dried blood and just had it... floating... there. They gathered all the flecks they took, from the entire house, into this floating ball, which they then transferred into a weird hollow glass thing they called an essence orb. Since they'd taken as much as possible from every drop of blood we could find, we then decided to clean the place up before the family returned. Losing a loved one's hard enough without having to also scrub their blood off the floor..."
"You insisted on that, didn't you?" Vania asked quietly, scowl finally gone. "I can't imagine any of the wizards wanting to take the time to clean—they're too important and have too much work to do to take the time to be kind."
"Well, it was my idea, yes," Eddin admitted. "But, several of them were quite agreeable about it. Others... not so much. But, we washed all the blood out of the floorboards, we picked up the cloaks and hats and the cloak rack, we made Laria's bed, and swept up the broken pieces of her doll. Once we were finished, you couldn't even tell someone had been murdered there."
"I'm sure Laria's mother appreciated it, but I'm sure they'll also be joined at the hip for a long time to come. Laria probably won't even use that bed, now. She'll insist on sharing with her mother."
"I'm sure you're right. But, we had to do what we could. I also convinced one of our esteemed wizardly colleagues to place some protections on the house, and specifically spell a pair of bracelets for Laria. In case the wizard tries to... finish what he started."
Vania nodded; "Good. Now tell me why you didn't get him yet."
"Quite simply, they'd used too much energy, so they couldn't even attempt such a spell. Plus, after their initial exchange of magical blows with him during the trace spell tracking Laria, they have decided to enlist the aid of the Wizard Council. So, today, they're taking their essence orb of blood chips, plus whatever the other group recovered, and going to the hall of the Wizard Council. That building has some of the best protection spells in the city, so they can use more power on their spell and less on defending themselves against attack. Also, several council members will be joining them in the spell, as well. Our colleagues from the Merchant Quarter will also send wizard enforcers, and once we have a location, they will accompany us to detain him."
"Will they also place a spell on him before you get there, using the blood you gathered? It's no good to trace someone to a location and have him sense your spying eyes—by the time you get there, he won't be!"
"They've promised to explore and discuss the options, yes. They will attempt something."
"Attempt?"
"Doing any spell upon a person from a distance is always tricky business. It's extra difficult if the person resists, which he undoubtably will." He paused; when she offered no other comments, he added, "So, that is the latest news on catching the wizard. Now, to report on the Averton Park business. Bergin and Jezora believe it was the handiwork of someone else. How they ended up with the stolen parts, we don't know. But, it didn't seem to be the work of the killer."
"Why not?"
"Well, for one thing, no one was gutted—everyone's organs were still within them. And, for another thing, oddly, where the killer took pieces of people's Marks, whoever did this sewed the Marked parts onto the victims. Thirdly, two of them were human. The third did happen to be half-tydring, and even had been hiding a Mark—no doubt a very closely guarded secret of their family."
"No doubt." She looked at him, eyes dropping to his gloved hands, where his strange eyes lay hidden.
"The victims there seemed to have been chosen for their ranks and families—they were children of highly esteemed noble and merchant families; people with a lot of power and sway in this city. Plus, each of the victims had a note pinned to their shoulder with a long bone needle."
"A note? What'd the notes say?"
"All the same message, actually." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wrinkled parchment. "Here. Read it for yourself."
Vania took it, frowning. "You know I shouldn't be touching this."
He shrugged. "Who's gonna know? You going to march back to the station and report me?"
"No," she muttered, smoothing out the paper. As she looked at the message, she froze. That handwriting looks familiar...
"You okay?"
"Yeah, fine," she mumbled. She read the note several times, eyes scanning each letter carefully, noting the style of writing. Basic, simple script, bereft of flourishes or anything resembling grace. Just plain, stark black letters on plain, white parchment.
You beat us, mocked us, and spit on us,
because of what we are.
Now you have become what you detest.
May your friends and family give you the same we got from you.
This is a Mark that won't wash out or be hidden.
"You sure you're okay? You look awfully pale."
"I think... I know who wrote this note," Vania said. She handed it back to Eddin. "Derry received a threat this morning, and the person also left a note for me. Look—the handwriting appears to be the same." She pulled the note out of her pocket; Eddin took it from her and read it.
"This is what you were cursing about," he said quietly.
"You—"
He pointed at one large ear without taking his eyes off the note; "Good hearing. Yes, this handwriting does look the same. Who's NTK?"
"Nandara T'kerin Kantos." Vania sighed. "Usually just called Nanda."
"The woman who's had her gang spying on you?" As Vania nodded, Eddin looked around the alley and up to the rooftops. "Are they watching us right now?"
"No doubt."
"So, unless you go talk to her, Derry and his family, and anyone else you happen to purchase goods from or stop to greet on the street, will become outcasts and lose all business?"
"Yes."
He whistled. "Damn her to all the hells and a pox on her gang, indeed. This certainly puts you in a tight place." he said quietly. He handed the note back. "You're... not thinking about going, are you?"
"Well, I don't want Derry to lose his livelihood because of me. And, now, with that," she nodded at the wrinkled note from the park's corpse, still in Eddin's hand, "There's something I really need to ask her."
"That's... not part of the information she offered. I don't think you should deal with this woman. At least not alone."
"I'm sure she'll refuse to see me if I'm not."
"It doesn't say that. Maybe I should go to this tavern tonight..."
"That's a good way to get a knife in the back. Nanda didn't invite you, that means she won't talk to you."
"Even if I'm with you?"
"She won't talk to you."
"Any idea what she wants?"
"I... think, maybe, to try to... recruit me. She apparently tried to recruit my mother." At Eddin's look, Vania threw up her hands. "I don't know. What else would a crime boss want from an ex-enforcer?"
"You're still an enforcer."
She sighed, sagging back against the door, eyes dropping to the dirt. "Until I don't get summoned back by the captain for twenty days. Then I'm automatically terminated."
Eddin swore lowly, the stream of curses expanding into several languages. After he ran out of breath, he breathed in deeply, holding in the flow of words, and exhaled forcefully. "We won't let him do that."
"Your father may be an important person, Eddin, but Captain Murrick won't listen to you."
"He doesn't have to listen to me. I'll go over his head."
She shook her head. "Why bother? Who's gonna care whether some poor tydring girl gets removed from her position or not? Not like there's not more enforcers."
"But there's only one you," he said quietly.
She had no reply, instead keeping her gaze fixed on her bare feet.
He looked down at her bowed head; he couldn't stop from noticing how she looked out of uniform, eyes taking in her loose, dark blue hair that the breeze tugged at, the tips of the spines on her head just peeking out from her hair. The basic leather tunic and pants, in various shades of brown. The dull iron of the protective bands circling her upper arms. Her dusty, bare feet.
"You look good in brown," he heard his voice say. He cringed, biting his lip.
"What did you say?" She lifted her face then, looking up at him.
"Um." He locked eyes with her. "This is only the second time I've seen you out of uniform. You... look good in brown. Well. I mean, you look good in your uniform, too. But your hair, it looks nicer down."
"You." She flushed. "You—just don't."
"I can't give you a compliment?"
She looked away. "No."
"Or did you mean I don't look good in uniform?" he teased with a smirk.
"You know you look good in your uniform. You don't need me to tell you that." She swallowed, feeling her flush deepen.
"You know, most people who use a spell to alter the way their uniform appears on them, they choose to look like they... fill it, for lack of a better term, better. I knew a guy who had a spell that made him look far more muscular when he had his uniform on; and I know he hasn't been the only guy. And I know there's women who've given themselves enhancements in a similar manner, too."
"Oh? Is that what this is?" She poked his large bicep. "A spell? An illusion woven into the fabric of your uniform?"
"No." He crossed his arms. "The way I look is the way I am... mostly. My eye patches are my alterations." He looked down at her. "But I meant... you... obviously did the opposite. First woman I've known to do that."
"You alter your uniform one day to make yourself a generously endowed female and see how many men, from felons to your own coworkers, leer at you, grope you, and make jokes. It's easier to just be... bland. And I'm sure I'm not the only one."
"I'll admit, though I'm embarrassed to do so... when I noticed Du l'Tagne hitting on you in the squad room, I wondered what it was that'd caught his eye."
She chuckled; "Because I'm not good looking enough?"
"No; no matter what you wear, or how it's spelled, you're beautiful." He swallowed, looking away, and quickly added, "Because a womanizer like him prefers... a different body type. And I didn't know then about how you'd spelled your uniform. Of course, he being a wizard, maybe he could see through your spell."
Vania shuddered. I sure hope not. "Well, try to forget about it." She pulled her cloak closer around herself.
"May I... ask about your back?"
"I'd rather not—"
"I couldn't help but notice, since we had to share a horse yesterday when you weren't in your uniform. It didn't... feel like a hunchback or other type of growth."
"It's part of my Mark."
"Ah. Does it hurt?"
"Of course it hurts. The Mark always hurts. Doesn't yours?"
"Yes." Eddin paused, looking at his gloved hands. "Well, never mind then. Sorry I tried to pry."
"No, I'm sorry," Vania replied with a sigh. "I'm just... not used to discussing this with anyone except my family."
"I know. I... don't usually talk about it, either. But, since we're both... hiding things from our coworkers... I thought, maybe we could be honest with each other."
"They're wings," Vania admitted quietly.
Eddin's eyes widened. "Wow. Do they work? Can you fly with them? That would be so useful for—"
"No. They're too weak," she replied bitterly. She chuckled darkly; "That's what Bergin wanted to know, too."
"Bergin knows?"
"He found out, yes. Much the way you did—catching me out of uniform. It was the day he followed me home, after Du l'Tagne put that spell on me. He let himself into my house while I slept and he used one of Rand'din's orbs to absorb the magical energy from the spell."
"Wait. You said if I broke into your house, you'd arrest me. But, he broke into your house, and he didn't end up in a cell."
"I had other things on my mind at the time, considering I was fighting a malicious spell, so I couldn't leave the protections of my wards, and he'd just discovered I was Marked. So... no. I didn't arrest him."
"Hm. He didn't mention any of that when he and I were discussing things before he transferred."
"He promised me he wouldn't tell anyone." She looked up at him in annoyance. "And why were the two of you talking about me?"
"Because I was going to be your new work partner. I wanted to learn some things. Check on things."
"Check on things?"
"Yes. Had to find some things out."
"Like what? That I'm stubborn?"
Eddin chuckled; "Yeah, he warned me about that. And to trust your hunches." Eddin sighed. "He... cares, you know? Not in a romantic way, though that's what Jezora and a bunch of others suspect," he added hastily. "He... thinks of you like a little sister."
"I know he doesn't have feelings for me, Eddin."
"Well, before I potentially stepped between the two of you, I had to ask."
"Why?"
"Because his sudden transfer seemed... abrupt. Like something had happened between you two. So... I had to make sure there wasn't any bad blood I was going to need to deal with."
"You said it's common for an enforcer to be transferred after they kill someone on the job."
"Yeah. It is. But... Captain Murrick didn't order his transfer—he asked for it. That's what made it odd. So, I... had to know. Was it... because of your..."
"No." Vania sighed, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples with one longer-fingered hand. "No, we just... couldn't work together anymore."
"Why?"
She bit her lip. Because he killed my parents. And he can't get past it. And I can hardly believe it. And any time one of us looks at the other, all we see is blood. "I think you're supposed to be somewhere." She turned and opened the door. Two small bodies fell into the dirt at her feet. "Cianna! Kuran! What are you two doing—"
The children picked themselves up quickly, each pointing at the other and talking at once.
"It was her idea."
"He wanted to listen."
"She thought you might say something about the killer."
"He was hoping to learn enforcer secrets."
"She was thinking he was gonna kiss you."
"He wanted to watch."
Vania reddened; "We—we're not—we're just work partners. Now get back inside. I thought you were helping your mom and dad in the kitchen." She pointed towards the door to the bakery; the children dashed off. Grabbing the doorframe, she leaned on it, sighing, one hand coming up to cover her red face.
Neither of them spoke, both glancing at the other, then quickly looking away.
"Um. You really weren't kidding about Derry and the whole 'general' thing," Eddin ventured finally.
"I was surprised he didn't react right away when you said it, honestly," Vania replied, still facing into the house.
"Well, I'm... not allowed in his house anymore. Or the bakery, except to quickly buy something and get out. And that's only as long as I never ever call him that again."
"Can't say I didn't warn you." Vania couldn't help but smirk.
He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Vania."
Shouting came from the kitchen, causing both of them to straighten and look around on high alert.
"Uh oh," Eddin said quietly, as running steps came from the bakery and burst through the door. "It's time."
"It's time," Derry panted. "Vania, it's time."
Vania's eyes widened, "Oh. Now?" After the baker nodded, she said, "Okay. You—you need me to run to get the midwife?"
"No. I'll send Kuran there. I need to get Licia upstairs and comfortable. Will you help Cianna mind the store?"
"Yes. Of course," Vania replied. She looked over to Eddin. "Well. We need to get moving. Have a nice day."
"I can retrieve your midwife—where is she?" Eddin offered.
"Thank you for the offer, but it's not necessary. Kuran can handle himself fine."
"Sir, please. There's still a killer on the loose, hunting tydring. You don't want your son on the streets alone. Besides, I'll ride, and get the midwife here much faster."
"Oh. Well, all right. No time to argue. Thank you," Derry said. "She's down by the Cloistered Dragon. Name on the sign says Eldara." He hurried away.
"Cloistered Dragon?" Eddin asked.
Vania bit her lip, smiling. "It's two blocks past the Thankless Tankard. Next door to the alley where..."
"Got it. Thanks. I'll be back quickly." Eddin quickly retrieved his horse and rode out of the alley at a gallop.
"Everyone here's gotta hate you, Eddin. That stupid horse takes up the entire street," Vania muttered, shaking her head. She shut the door just as Derry and Licia walked up, heading for the stairs. Licia, sweating heavily, leaned hard on her husband, panting, as they made their way up to the living quarters. "Eddin's gone for Eldara. Cianna and I will handle the store. If either of you need anything, just send Kuran down for it."
Derry nodded. "Thank you."
Vania pushed through the door to the bakery, grabbed an apron from the rack, and looked around the kitchen. Cianna stood by the oven, mopping.
"Need any help with that, Cianna?" The girl shook her head. "All right. What needs to be done next?"
"Bread taken out of the oven. Braided loaves put in. Tarts finished. Pies filled and baked. Fried cakes frosted. Front door unlocked. Tassies shaped, filled, and baked. Specialty loaves baked. Butter crescents, cream crescents, and fruit crescents filled and baked. Honey cake, lemon curd cake, and chocolate cake made."
Vania dodged around the mop and yanked the oven door open, using a wooden tray to yank the loaves. "And in the order you listed them in?"
"Yes. Unless we get too far behind. Then we gotta unlock the door before we do pies and cakes." Wearing a disgusted face, Cianna disappeared from the kitchen, carrying the mop and bucket.
Vania began pushing the braided loaves into the oven, the heat wafting from deep within and the smell of the baked bread bringing her back to ten years ago, when she lived and worked in the bakery. She was surprised how quickly the routine came back to her, hands moving deftly with muscle memory.
Faintly, she heard the midwife arrive and Licia's groans, but kept working, reassuring Cianna that everything was fine. Soon, she found herself unlocking the door, hoping people weren't too worried about the pained groans and panting coming from upstairs.
"You're the one behind the counter today?" a woman sniffed, looking at Vania with disgust.
Vania smiled; "Yes, good morning. Licia and Derry are temporarily unavailable. They'll be back as soon as they can."
"I should hope it's only temporary." The woman pursed her lips, looking at her. "Aren't you going to give me my things, girl?"
"Yes, um—"
"Here you go, Ms. Kenda." Cianna smiled as she reached up to place a packed cotton sack on the counter. "I added an extra fried cake for Tono, since he's not feeling well lately."
"Thank you, dear." The woman smiled down at Cianna. She looked suspiciously at Vania, handed over some coins, and walked out quickly.