The ward anchor by the corner of the nursery had seen better days. It looked like someone with anger issues had smashed it to smithereens with a hammer. The limestone post had shattered, and the engraved bands of bronze embedded into the tall stone had been broken and warped by the harsh impacts.

  Behare of clan Darwish, the midwife in charge of showing them around, had taken them to the back alley behind the nursery after they had completed an examination of the rooms inside the facility. The rooms had revealed nothing of worth, but they had not expected to find anything.

  The entire purpose of the exercise had been to sell an image of competence and diligence to Behare. An image that she would hopefully share with others as she told them about their methods. The passage of time as they ‘performed’ for Behare was just the icing on the cake.

  Oak looked around the alley and kept the pleased smile off of his face. A small crowd had formed to watch the proceedings, just as he had hoped. By dinner time, everyone in the town would know what had transpired here.

  As alleys went, the place was downright pleasant. There was no garbage lying around and Oak could not spot a single rat skulking about. He could safely say this was one of the better alleys he had ever found himself in.

  Sadia looked like she had zoned out. The girl had her hood up, and she stared at the forming crowd of onlookers without a care in the world. Oak nudged her foot with his boot and the little spellsinger twitched.

  “Game face on, girl,” Oak whispered. He whistled and Geezer trotted over from the front steps of the building to the corner of the nursery, red eyes gleaming and his panting mouth open, showing off his wicked teeth. For this to work like he hoped, Sadia had to be the most uninteresting person in the alley. And what better way to accomplish that and keep the girl's hands hidden than placing her behind him and Geezer, away from prying eyes?

  The hellhound looked at the broken ward anchor and let out a sad little howl. Oak furrowed his brow. There was something…strange about the howl. Right at the edge of his enhanced hearing, he could almost hear the voice of a man wailing in despair.

  Huh. That is new. Let’s hope Geezer keeps it to himself, for now. Otherwise, we might be in trouble.

  A steady murmur of whispers rose from the crowd as Geezer sat down by Oak’s side, wagging his tail. Good, the crowd was awake, and they had not noticed Geezer’s supernatural strangeness. Other than the fact he was a giant dog, that is. It was time to start the next act of their play.

  Ur-Namma took to the stage they had set up for him like a born actor. The elf approached the broken ward anchor with measured steps and spent some time inspecting the hammer marks left on the limestone.

  “Do you think you’ll be able to glimpse some detail that could lead you to the trail of the killer?” Behare asked, wringing her hands. The midwife looked tense.

  “That remains to be seen, but I will try my best,” Ur-Namma replied. He grabbed a loose band of engraved bronze from the anchor and sat down against the stone, placing the band on his lap. “I will dive into the Unreal Sea now. Please do not disturb me while I work.”

  The crowd fell silent, and Behare stepped back to give the elf some space.

  Sadia had a good sense of dramatic timing. She let the moment build upon itself. People in the crowd shuffled their feet impatiently and whispered to each other, eyes glued to Ur-Namma’s silent figure sitting on the ground. Waiting to hear if the elf had found anything that would help with catching the killer.

  It started with an unfelt ethereal wind fluttering Ur-Namma’s robes. Clouds of dust rose in the air around the elf, swirling like flocks of birds at the end of summer. Gasps of shock and awe echoed in the alley and the rebounding sound waves painted a vivid picture of the scene in Oak’s mind.

  A man in an apron, lifting a young boy on his shoulders so the lad could see the spectacle. A pair of young women, gawking at Ur-Namma with wide eyes. A grandmother cursing and clutching her prayer beads. And right behind Oak’s back crouched Sadia, whispering her spell.

  The little spellsinger’s fingers moved in intricate patterns inside the sleeves of her robes and a droplet of sweat traveled down her forehead, towards her nose. Sadia furrowed her brow in concentration and made a pulling motion with her hands.

  The alley was cast in shadow. Frightened shouts emerged from the crowd, but before panic could spread, a light bloomed and chased away the darkness. Ur-Namma’s eyes glowed behind his eyelids with the intensity of the rising sun and as he opened them, a new dawn broke into the alley. Golden rays of light washed over the assembled crowd with intensity that left spots dancing in Oak’s vision.

  All stood in awe and waited with bated breath.

  The light receded, and the shadows did not return. Normalcy filled the absence left behind by the extraordinary, and the cosmic wheel kept turning. Ur-Namma sagged forward, clutching the band of engraved bronze in his grip, panting for breath.

  Behare broke the stunned silence. “Did you…did you succeed?” she asked, face pale and hands shaking.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “I did. The killer made a mistake.” Ur-Namma lifted his face and smiled, showing off his needle-like teeth. “Me and my associates still have our work cut out for us, but I believe this band of bronze will eventually lead us to the murderer. We will reconvene with the Ensi first thing in the morning and present him with our current findings.”

  “But…but what did you find?”

  Ur-Namma stood up and wiped the dust from his robes. “I am sorry, but I cannot discuss the details with anyone except the Ensi while the investigation is still ongoing. All will be revealed in due time.”

  The muttering of the crowd intensified and ten different people started shouting simultaneously, ?demanding to know what the elf had uncovered. Others left in a hurry, clearly wanting to be the first person to share the juicy gossip.

  All according to plan.

  ***

  “Hey. Good show, girl.” Oak slapped Sadia on the back and sent the girl stumbling forward. Shit. I didn't mean to do that. That girl really needs to eat more. “Sorry about that. You were amazing.”

  Sadia blushed and waved him off. “It was nothing special. Just some tricks with the light, that is all.”

  “Good tricks.”

  The four of them passed by the town market where a crowd of people was gathering in front of an improvised stage made up of a wagon and some benches stacked on top of each other. Oak reached out to a passing laborer and pointed at the stage. “Excuse me, sir. What are they gathering for?”

  “Baskim Kashari. Patriarch is giving a speech shortly about the refugees.” The skinny fellow spat on the ground. “I don’t like foreigners myself, but that baby-killer is just trying to shift the blame. No offence.”

  “Ah. None taken, good sir.”

  The man continued on his way, muttering something unintelligible in the local dialect.

  What a refreshingly clear minded bigot.

  Oak nodded at Ur-Namma. “Baskim is about to do some rhetorical refugee bashing. I think I will go for a little walk after I have escorted you two back to the inn.”

  “Fine by me.” Ur-Namma shrugged. “We have some time to kill until the next phase of our plan starts.”

  “Oh. So now it's ‘our’ plan, is it?” Oak grinned from ear to ear, very satisfied with his own genius.

  “Shut it, barbarian.”

  ***

  They got back to the inn with no trouble and sneaked upstairs without incurring the innkeeper’s wrath. If Vjollca had seen Ur-Namma’s dusty robes, she would surely have dragged them all to the baths again. The elf retreated to his own room to rest, but before Sadia could do the same, Oak grabbed her by the shoulder. He had given the girl a task earlier, and this was a good time to check on her progress.

  “Now, while I am out and about, you need to finish your preparations for this evening,” Oak said. “Tell me what you have in store so far.”

  “Remember that red lightning spell I almost blasted you with some days back?” Sadia bit her lip nervously. “Well, I got to thinking, and I made a version that will zap someone if they grab me.”

  “Hmm.” Oak frowned. He poked the girl in the stomach with a finger.

  “Ouch! What was that for?”

  “First rule of planning for a fight. Don’t plan for how you want things to go, plan for how they could go if the worst comes to pass,” he said and poked the girl’s forehead with the same finger. “What if they don’t grab you? What if they stab you instead? Will it make you feel better to see some asshole get struck by lightning as you bleed out on the ground with a blade sticking out of your guts?”

  “Heavens. I didn’t think about that.” Sadia swallowed and rubbed her stomach. She looked a little sick.

  “Well, open that grimoire of yours and start thinking about it. If you can’t come up with something better, we will have to leave you out of this evening's festivities.”

  With his parting wisdom bestowed upon the younger generation, Oak climbed back down the stairs and headed outside. Creation had been kind and a ragged tapestry of clouds covered the sun, shielding the streets from the unforgiving heat.

  Despite the respite offered by the wisps of cloud, he sweated like a pig. It couldn’t be helped. The average spring day this far south felt like the hottest day of summer back home. The regeneration offered by the Boon of Demonic Constitution was the only reason he wasn’t sunburned to Hell and back.

  Oak walked the dusty streets in silence, enjoying the moment of relative solitude, and made his way back to the market square. He got there just in time to hear the tail end of Baskim Kashari’s speech.

  “-have been saying for a long time! Why should we care about the wars beyond our borders? We have no part in the conflict down south!” Baskim shouted on top of his makeshift stage, jowls flapping in time with his words.

  The patriarch of the Kashari family was a rotund man of fairly advanced age, with a bald head and some gray in his impressive beard. Nonetheless, it was apparent to Oak that under all the fat, he still had some muscle left over from his younger days. The man had a broad back, arms like tree trunks, and a deep booming voice which carried across the square like the sound of a war-horn.

  “I don’t mind trading with the bastards. As all of you well know, I am always willing to entertain a good deal.” Ripples of laughter rose up from the crowd and Baskim basked in the spotlight. The way he waved off the hooting mob like he hadn’t sought laughter and approval on purpose was downright masterful. The man knew how to work a crowd.

  “But mark my words, good people. These Koromites and Muttalites that are camping on the gates of our precious town bring nothing but trouble with them! There is no telling when the sorry creatures will launch themselves at each other’s throats!” Baskim bellowed, raising his hands towards the sky like a preacher calling for the favor of the Heavens. “Not to mention the fact that they are all so poor and wretched there is no trading to be done with them! The good-for-nothing scoundrels can’t even afford the stuff I feed my dogs.”

  Oak leaned against the wall of a building bordering the square and watched as Baskim's crafty hands and booming voice steered the mob closer and closer towards an outright pogrom. At least no one was holding a pitchfork. Yet.

  This guy is going to be a fucking problem, isn’t he?

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