Finally time to quit. Moira sped up the stairs and wondered if Druidus would take her to Lavant's company again. She was just about to hurry through the entrance door, when she noticed Druidus waiting beside his carpisto. She hesitated when she saw a woman with blond curls hurry toward him. The expensive Designer costume seemed familiar. She stood rooted as Druidus hugged Aparta de Frees and kissed her heartily on the mouth. All of a sudden, her throat was parched, and her knees shook.
So, he did lie after all. Tears shot into her eyes. She stumbled toward a bench in the hall and sank onto it. I wonder if he ever truly loved me. Or did he only playact? I'm such an idiot. She put her hands on her knees, closed her eyes, and forced herself not to cry. She wouldn't let Druidus see her desperation. After a while, she had her feeling sunder control again. She pushed her chin out and walked to the door. Druidus and Aparta had left.
No problem, I'm not going to see him again anyway. She bit her lower lip and went to stop a taxi.
Lavant led her into a small office filled with plants. The walls were covered in creepers, and the low desk was a single plank of massive oak. A cardboard box stood on top.
"These are the last few cases Bastide worked on," Lavant said. "The older cases are in the archive just in case you need them. I couldn't find anything else but you can have a look for yourself." He kissed Moira's cheek and left her alone.
Moira crouched in front of the desk, unpacked the files, and opened the first one. She caught herself thinking of Druidus. With a frown, she pressed her lips together and forced herself to read the tiny script. Bastide had recorded every detail of the case, but there was nothing about Lif -- and not in the next one or the one after. Still, she read every single file thoroughly. When she opened the second to last folder, a name jumped out at her.
Excelsior van Steen against Unknown
What did Bastide have to do with Druidus' father? She delved in the words. Soon, she realized that Excelsior suspected his wife of having an affair. Due to his own statement, he feared more his good name would suffer then considering his wife's lover a problem. He had hired the elf to find out the man's identity so he could remove him from his wife's life with a generous sum of money.
Just like he did with Druidus' girlfriend, Moira thought. He probably thinks he can buy everything with his money. I just hope his wife's lover won't fall for this.
The last letter Bastide had written to Excelsior asked for the payment of the agreed sum. After reception of the money, Bastide had meant to tell him the name of the lover. The letter had been dated to the day of Bastide's death. That meant that Excelsior didn't know the result of Bastide's research. And it wasn't in the file either. Serves him right. Moira closed the file. The last folder contained a detailed report about the happenings on the carnival and about Bastide's arrest. Moira put it aside and wondered if he had hidden a diary somewhere. She looked for hidden drawers in the desk and secret compartments under the floorboards or in the walls without success. Finally, she gave up and went to her father to say goodbye.
He didn't let her keep him from taking her home personally. When they stopped in front of her house, her turned and looked into her eyes. "You've been in a dark cloud the whole evening. Don't you want to tell me what's wrong?"
Moira froze. Was she so easy to read? She couldn't tell him about Druidus. The wound was too raw. She needed an excuse, and fast.
"They shunted me into the archive to sort files."
"That's not all, is it?" Lavant cocked his head.
Moira folded her arms in front of her chest and stared at the dashboard. Lavant waited. She really couldn’t tell him. He'd been the first man who deserted her. How could she? She glanced at him sideways, but he just sat there, silent and strong. His presence eased her mind like it used to do when she had problems as a kid. Still, her pain was none of his business anyway.
"There's nothing else."
"Honey, I'm a good judge of sorrow. I've had years of practice, and I know what went wrong in my case. Maybe I can help?" His eyes pleaded with her, so she looked away again.
Fiddling with her fingers, she considered his offer. Maybe he was right and talking about the betrayal would sooth her feelings. But what if she bared her soul and there was no help? A part of her longed to tell him all her problems and another part fought against that feeling. After a long struggle, her feeling won out.
"The man I thought loved me kissed someone else."
"That's not the end of the world." Lavant put his hand on her arm. "Talk to him. There might be a good reason for the kiss. You won't find a perfect partner but you will not find the best there is if you jump to conclusions."
"You sound like Franka."
"Really? Maybe I should revive our contact." Lavant grinned.
Suddenly, the world didn't seem half as dark as before. It was possible that she misjudged the kiss. She tried to think whether it had been a passionate one or not, but she couldn’t tell. At the thought of talking to Druidus about the situation, her stomach plummeted. She smiled warily.
"Thank you," she said and kissed his cheek. "I will think about it."
She pondered the whole night whether to talk to Druidus or not. She even thought about it the next day at work. Sorting and filing the folders was so monotonous, she nearly felt asleep but at least it soothed her troubled mind a little. When the end of her shift drew near, there was a single folder left on her table. Relieved, she patted the cardboard cover. It was the file on the burglary of the NationalMuseum. Since Excelsior was nowhere in sight, she opened it. Beside the report she had written, there were several copies of drawings labeled by Tord and dated with day and time of the find. Interested, Moira examined the pictures. The box had only held weapons. There were knifes, lances, arrow- and spearheads, hunting knifes and swords, as well as a drawing of the dagger that had stuck in Bastide's wall. I knew it. Satisfied, she nodded and turned the page. The next drawing pictured the metal-bound stone urn. It was the only drawing with Lif's handwriting on it. Moira recognized his letters immediately. With a lot of love to detail, he described the seal. He had also added a drawing of it. In the middle, there was a stylized anvil with a hammer standing vertically over it. Seven parallel semicircular lines led around Hern's hammer. They reminded Moira of a rainbow without the color.
A shiver ran down her spine when she remembered the warning she got when she had touched the urn. According to Lif, a leather wrapped sword had been inside the stone's cavity. Before Moira could search for the drawing of the sword, footsteps approached from behind.
"You're supposed to put the files away not read them." Excelsior sounded annoyed.
Moira pushed the drawings back into the file and placed it in the appropriate shelf.
Excelsior was already on his way back to the front. "Bring the mace from shelf seven compartment one hundred and fifteen to the desk at the entrance. Under no circumstances, take it out of the safety bag. There is a homicide spell on it."
"What is a homicide spell?"
"Don't they teach you anything at the academy any more?" The archivist sighed. Moira opened her mouth to explain that the university had not employed an academic for Magical Theory in many years, but Excelsior didn't give her a chance to speak. "It is a spell forcing the user of the mace to kill someone with it. As long as the weapon is inside the protective cover, the spell is neutralized."
Moira tanked him for the explanation and left to fin the shelf. The vault got darker the further in she went. Despite trying hard, she didn't manage to create a sufficiently big Lumière Magique. The tiny ball of light over her head only illuminated a short stretch of the corridor in front of her. When she reached shelf seven, she walked more slowly. Weapons filled the whole construction. Where was compartment one hundred and fifteen? She squinted at the numbers on the uprights. Her light flickered and died. Annoyed, she created a new one. The constant concentration made her sweat. It took her a while to find the correct compartment. She took the mace including the cover and hurried back to the entrance desk. When she saw the light, she let her die with a sigh of relief. She was drained in sweat. The doctors and auralogists are right after all. I am magically handicapped. The few spells I do get right are hardly more than flukes. She placed the mace on the desk and looked around for Excelsior. He stood near the fireplace together with Sabio. They stood in front of a glass casket the length of an arm that stood on a platform of wood with wheels.
"And you're sure it works?" Excelsior looked skeptical.
"I tried it half a dozen times. The burning box works without a fault." Sabio put a hand on his shoulder. "But I have to prepare it since it can't be transported over longer distances when the fire spell is in place. It would be too dangerous."
Excelsior looked at Moira and waved. "Bring the weapon."
Moira obeyed. Fascinated, she watched Sabio raise a ward standing in the hall like an oversized hemisphere of faceted crystal. In the middle, he drew a pentagram with red crayon. Around the five pointed star, he placed symbolic items: one candle on every point of the star, and in between, he put a skull, a dried paw of a rabbit, a potted four-leaved clover, a few drops of blood, and a bow with eternal fire. The blue flames flickered and shadows danced over the vault's walls. In front of the eternal fire, he drew a circle with blue crayon. He put on the obligatory safety coat and donned the pointy hat that focused magic.
Moira thought he looked like an apprentice magician from an old painting with his dark-blue, star spangled safety clothes.
"You'd better stand back. I raised a ward and it might be better to stay outside of it just in case." Sabio opened the glass caskets lid.
Moira and Excelsior withdrew until they stood outside his ward. Sabio stepped into the blue circle and murmured a spell. Then, he reached his hands upward to the vaulted ceiling and called, "En Feu! Semera Magique! Rougisse! Lumière!"
It hissed. Sabio's knees trembled when the magic swept through his body like a whirl of stars. Sabio sparkled and glittered. The spell he had to control had to be a very strong one. Impressed, Moira stared at the Commissaire. She has thought that the direct use of magic was only employed in laboratories and factories.
Sabio's spell shot through the eternal fire and ripped it along into the open glass box. A glaringly bright flame lit up the vault. Blue flames wavered in the burning box.
"Lumière." Sabio called the activation word once more, and the flames died. He left the circle and walked over to Excelsior. "Go ahead, try it."
The archivist pushed a white lock of hair from his face, put on a pair of safety gloves, and picked up the mace with its cover. Hesitantly, he put it into the glass box which closed automatically. He activated the spell, and a blue flame pulverized the weapon.
He beamed at Sabio. "Your invention is incredible. Finally, we can destroy the cursed weapons without danger. Sometimes, I believe you're much better suited to work down here than I am."
Moira had never seen the archivist this happy. Therefore, she raced off immediately when he asked her rather friendly to fetch coffee. When she returned, Sabio leaned against the desk touching the signature field of a return form for files with his left hand. A purple flame ran around all of his fingers and condensed into his initials while the men discussed the murders of the homeless.
Sabio shook his head. "No, there are no leads on the killer, and the murders continue. There's one nearly every night."
"At least the press is holding back." Excelsior took the form and examined the signature.
"It's because I begged them during the press conference." Sabio took the coffee with a thankful smile. "But they won't hold out much longer."
"What about the burglary into the museum?" Excelsior filed the form and took a coffee too.
Sabio shrugged. "There is no trace of our main suspect Pete Huudien. I've got men observing his flat and his fiancée, so far without any result."
"Is the burglary related to the murders?"
"I can't proof it nor can I exclude it. The only safe fact is that Lif Borson's and Bastide Leclerque's deaths are connected to the theft."
Moira fell in. "We should work together with Director du Mar. He …"
Excelsior frowned at her with obvious disdain. "Have you never learned that it's impolite to interrupt grown-ups?"
"Let her." Sabio turned to Moira. "Your idea is good, generally. Unfortunately, his wife has managed to ensure a court order that doesn't allow us to talk to him."
Excelsior shook his head. "You're much too nice, Sabio. The greenhorns from the academy have to learn discipline first and foremost." He waved Moira aside. "I put more files out for you. Get to work."
With a shrug, Moira returned to her desk. At least, I will be able to have a look at the sword from the stone urn as long as they talk. She took the last file from the shelf. It was the wrong one. That's impossible. Frantically, Moira searched the archived documents, but the file she was looking for was missing. Did Sabio ask for it? She thought hard but couldn't remember if there had been a folder on the entrance desk or not. Maybe Excelsior hid it away so I can't read in it. She sighed and returned to sorting the folders.
A little later, Excelsior dropped more files on her desk. "I hope you can manage without supervision for a while. I have to go to court for a few hours." When he noticed Moira's questioning look, he added, "as authorized expert", and left.