They didn't talk about magic or alchemy again, and Zenetra knew well enough not to pry when it came to James and the Hovels. The rest of that day was spent researching routes that airships and seafaring vessels used in the week that followed Scarlett Burn's last transmission. Inspector Hatwig didn't see the sense in combing over areas of the Ghost Sea that were already checked. It narrowed their search zone significantly.
Later that evening, Zenetra sat cross-legged on her cot losing at a round of cards with Mimi, Tilde, and James. She had paired with Tilde against the other two but regretted that decision. The blue-eyed, frazzled young constable was extremely competitive yet awfully unlucky at cards.
Tilde, with over thirty cards fanned out between both of her hands, chewed the inside of her cheek. "This round is a bust."
Sitting on a small stool with his legs spread apart, James snickered. He had one card left and was set to end the game.
"Keep laughing," jeered Tilde. "See where it gets you."
James taunted Tilde by holding up his single card. "Gets me a winning hand, apparently."
Tilde moved a fraction forward, a tease most evident on her lips, when the cards in her hands exploded up and out of her fingers. They scattered over Tilde's lap, the small bed, the floor, and most strangely of all—on top of Mimi's head.
James erupted in laughter. It took him so violently it was as if he hadn't laughed that hard in a long time. He toppled backward off the stool with a loud, "Woah!"
The card remained balanced on Mimi's head, and she seemed in no hurry to remove it. "Does this mean we win?"
"Does this mean we win? " Tilde mimicked. "Of course you win, Mimi. I had thirty cards left!"
Though it was nice listening to the others trade barbs, Zenetra found herself stifling a yawn. "Do we admit defeat?"
"We'll crush them tomorrow," promised Tilde.
A lopsided smile was on James' face. He set his stool upright and picked up the cards littering the floor. "We'll see about that."
Tilde shook her fist playfully at him. "Wipe that off your face, Jim Clay. You're grinning like an absolute fool."
James handed over the cards he had gathered, including the one balanced on Mimi's green hair, and then tapped Tilde on the nose. "You're the one who's grinning like a fool, you maniac."
While Tilde bound the cards in rubber bands, Mimi pulled out four small glasses from a side pouch of her little game bag. She grabbed the bottle of whirl hidden underneath Tilde's pillow and held it up for everyone to see. "Nightcap anyone?"
Tilde took one of the small glasses with eagerness. "One for me!"
Mimi filled Tilde's glass and poured another. "Zenetra?"
"Sure."
Mimi balanced the next glass on the palm of her hand. "James?"
James eyed the drink while rubbing his beard. "None for me. Captain Inglehart has me on night flying duties."
"Cheers, then!" said Mimi, holding the tiny glass aloft. "We'll get you one next time."
When a series of fraught expressions passed over James' face, Zenetra paused with the glass to her lips. She noted his trembling fingers and his smile that came out looking like one of Healer Pilluck's scarred grimaces. Something was amiss.
"Yeah. Sure. Sounds...sounds good." James pushed the stool aside and spun to the door. "Actually, I'd better go and get ready."
Mimi barely got out a "Safe flying!" as the door closed. Once he was gone, she said, "That's too bad."
"What is?" asked Tilde.
Mimi waved her glass at the door. "If I had known he was an alcoholic, I never would have brought out the whirl."
Tilde choked on her drink. "He's an alcoholic?"
"The shaking." Mimi poured herself another shot of whirl, tutting all the while. "And him so young."
Zenetra hardly listened. Mimi's sleeve pulled up and up, revealing more and more of the tattoo on her inner forearm. After her gesture to the door, it had finally risen up enough for Zenetra to see the image. A crossing sword and spear surrounded by a wreath had been applied in black ink. It was the symbol of Guild Nation. The old government the sympathizers wished to revive.
"Kind of pretty, isn't it?" Mimi said, blinking down at her own tattoo.
Zenetra tore her eyes away. "Sorry. I didn't mean to stare."
"That's okay!" Mimi pulled her sleeve up to her elbow. "Here. Have a better look-see."
The decorative black blemish on Mimi's inner arm had faded slightly over the years, and though it represented a wholeheartedly terrible group, the tattoo was treated with neither scorn nor embarrassment by its bearer.
Zenetra felt emboldened by Mimi's openness. "How did you manage to arrest all those high ranking Guild Sympathizers?"
"Wasn't that hard." Mimi poured herself another shot of whirl, the memory clearly a distant one. "I had a list of most of them in a fortnight, but there wasn't any evidence of treason so I waited until I was so deeply invested in the group that they asked me to put together a gala. Exclusive members only. I knew the organization was being illegally funded. I just didn't have the records to prove it."
Mimi paused to toss back her shot of whirl. She set the empty glass on the little nightstand and continued. "That gala was my opportunity. Hosting a party is a great way to spy on people. They think they're safe being with like-minded people. They drink a lot. They let their guards down. Getting evidence was a lot trickier back then. We didn't have recording devices when I was your age."
Seeming to realize what she had just said, Mimi burst out laughing. "Listen to me! I sound so old!"
"Oh, you're not old!" Tilde held her glass aloft. "You're distinguished."
"I do like the sound of that." Mimi's blazing smile fell fractionally. "I didn't get them all, though. Once they knew it was me who turned most of their group over to the CF, they called for my blood." She lifted the hem of her sweater and pulled down the top part of her trousers. A jagged scar covered her lower abdomen. "Can't have kids now," she said as she put her clothes right. "If you're going after an organization, you've got to nab them all or be prepared for retribution."
Zenetra sipped her whirl. The decorated constable across from her was clearly overqualified for this search and rescue assignment. "Are you here to spy on Onnan?"
Tilde coughed, caught between drinking and laughing. The alcohol sloshed out of her glass and poured down her chest. She brushed it with her fingers as if that would remove the liquid from her clothes.
"I'm here for Carver," said Mimi. "Carver, and well, I also speak Naiacan. Figured if we find Scarlett, she may feel better if there's someone here who speaks her native language. Having Carver assigned to the same team was just a bonus. We've wanted to work a case together for years."
"You two are close."
It wasn't a question, but Mimi answered it as if it had been. "Yeah! His family took me in years ago. Carver's the eldest of seven. His family descends from the Empire of the Sea. They've held on to some traditions. Eight is considered a fruitful number, so I became lucky number eight."
Zenetra regarded Mimi from a different perspective. Her tanned skin was not from a Marzhanian or Gryphon Isle heritage. She was part Naiacan. Perhaps it was because their ancestors were from the same continent, but Zenetra felt ever more connected to the bubbly constable sitting across from her.
"So," said Mimi. Another full glass of whirl was in her hand. "Can we talk about Nibbles now?"
Zenetra and Tilde spoke in unison. "Nibbles?"
"The cook!"
Tilde sent a scandalized look Mimi's way. "Do we want to know why you call him that?"
"I don't know," said Mimi. With a coquettish wink, she added, "Do you?"
***********************
Preview for next chapter:
The team makes it to the edge of the Triad. Evidence of Scarlett Burn is everywhere.
:)