The interrogation took place in Gran’s office. Maine sat on a stool in the center of the room, holding Ifri’s lantern in her lap, while Goring stood before her, a damp notepad in his dirty hands. Behind them, workers were still going in and out the Vault in a steady line, pushing wheelbarrows full of ash and smoky timber out of the wrecked room below. The floor around them was littered with scraps of paper and soot, creating a tiny dust-storm with every step.

  “State your name for the record,” Goring barked loudly at her over the noise of the workers.

  Maine snapped to attention. “Maine Mock Maierson!” she shouted, throwing him a quick salute.

  Seward raised an eyebrow at Matthew, but her brother didn’t respond. He was sitting, arms folded, watching the proceedings.

  Goring was scribbling in his notepad, frowning. “‘Mock’? Is that right?”

  “It’s a family name,” Matthew said quietly from Gran’s desk.

  Goring frowned, shaking his head. “Maiersons…” He scribbled again and then peered at her from over top of his notepad. “So, tell me about your accomplices.”

  Matthew answered before she could. “My sister didn’t have any accomplices. She acted alone.”

  “That was when she was trying to rob you?” he pointed out.

  “No, that was…” Matthew hesitated.

  “A prank?” Seward suggested.

  “It was not a prank!” Maine protested.

  “It was a prank,” her brother said definitely. He glared at her, and Maine got the distinct impression he was telling her to be quiet. “She’s fond of jokes like that. Anyone can tell you.”

  Goring looked from sibling to sibling, lip curled. “Eh? I see.” He scribbled again. “And what about the Firstborn?” he shouted at Maine suddenly. She jumped on her stool, almost toppling over, but before she could answer, there was a thumping, jangling sound from the stairs and Cherwood appeared, pushing a wheelbarrow full of mirror shards.

  “Well they really did a number on Ms Maierson’s Vault, I’ll tell you that,” he said plainly, huffing a bit as he got over the final step. He bumped his way past Goring and set the wheelbarrow down in the doorway.

  Seward sucked in his breath sharply. “Oh, the Scrying Mirror,” he sighed, shaking his head. “That was the only one of its kind left. Even if it was useless without another linked mirror to look through, it was still priceless.”

  “Yeah, it’s a real shame,” Cherwood said, wiping at his forehead with a stained rag. Maine peered over the edge curiously at the shards, then reached in and lifted one up carefully. Sparks fizzled on the edges of the shattered glass, as the runic sigils inscribed on the back flashed weakly.

  “Still, I’d love to get a chance to play around with the fragments,” Cherwood continued, looking up at Matthew. “Maybe I can fit it together, get it working again…” He shifted through the rest of the shards, and they saw the runic sigils flashing on the back, all shattered and jumbled together. There was a loud spark all at once and he jerked back his hand abruptly. “Ow.”

  “Don’t you have enough work to do already, Cherwood?” Matthew asked.

  “Oh, no, this wouldn’t be work,” Cherwood told him. He gazed happily at the shattered, jumbled mess of sparking glass. “This would just be for fun.”

  “Can I help?” Maine asked.

  “No,” Matthew and Seward said at once.

  Her brother then sighed and rubbed at his forehead. “Cherwood, did you know about the Vault as well?” he asked in a tired, tired voice.

  Cherwood blinked, tilting his head. “Well, of course I did. I’ve helped move a few things down there for Ms Maierson over the years. Why?”

  Matthew groaned. “Oh, no reason…”

  “Okay,” Cherwood shrugged. He looked down at the wheelbarrow again expectantly. “Well? Can I get started then?”

  “Do whatever you want,” he told him, giving in.

  Cherwood smiled as he picked up the wheelbarrow, pushing it out of the room. Goring watched him go, peering suspiciously. “Is it really safe to have him mess around with stuff like that?” he asked. “From what I’ve heard, the only thing more dangerous than broken magic objects are the ones still in one piece.”

  “Cherwood knows what he’s doing,” Seward said smoothly. “The greater danger is the Firstborn; there’s no telling what kind of damage they could do if they misused some of those artifacts. They need to be recovered immediately.”

  “That’s a good point you bring up there,” Goring said, flipping through his notepad. He paused, pen in hand, and gave Matthew a vicious look. “Don’t you think it’s irresponsible to offer such dangerous objects for sale in the first place? Innocent people could’ve been hurt.”

  Matthew opened his mouth, but Seward answered for him. “We agree completely,” he told Goring. “That’s why all the objects downstairs in the Vault were excluded from today’s sale, even if they might’ve fetched a high price at auction.” He folded his arms and nodded towards Matthew. “It was a difficult decision, but one made weeks ago by upper management, for the good of the public,” he reassured Goring.

  Maine looked quickly at her brother; a muscle seemed to be twitching in his jaw, but he managed to nod along with Seward. “That’s right,” he said stiffly.

  Goring’s eyes narrowed as he looked between the two of them. “Some of those objects were valuable then?” It was hard to miss the greed in his voice.

  “Exceedingly so,” Seward replied. “Some of the most dangerous ones were priceless in fact.”

  He was scribbling furiously now. “Is that so? You wouldn’t happen to have a list of-”

  “Here, this should do.” Seward produced a folded slip of paper out from his jacket and extended it to Goring, who snatched it up. Maine saw her brother’s hand twitch as well, but then settled back down, still smiling.

  “I’d like a copy of that list myself,” Matthew remarked, not looking at Seward.

  The Naga bowed, not looking at him either. “Of course, sir. I’ll have one prepared right away.”

  Goring was still poring over the list, almost licking his lips as he ran down the sheet. “And the Firstborn have all of these?” he asked. “That’s not good. Not good at all.” He paused. “Eh, you don’t happen to mention which items are the most expensive-”

  “What’s critical is that these artifacts are recovered as soon as possible,” Matthew stressed to Goring. “There’s no telling how much damage could be done if they’re misused.”

  Goring’s face fell into a very patronizing grin. “Oh, of course, of course. We’ll get on that right away.” He folded the paper very carefully and stuck it inside his coat, before returning to his notepad. “In the meantime, there’s still a few questions we’ve got to clear up about this theft, if you don’t mind, sir?” Matthew waved him on and Goring smiled graciously.

  “To begin with, the first thing I think we should nail down is how many people knew about this secret vault exactly?” He waited, pencil poised, looking at Matthew and Seward.

  “I did, of course,” her brother said quickly. Maine stifled a laugh, looking away quickly as Goring glanced at her suspiciously. “My sister knew about it as well,” her brother went on, his neck and forehead flushed with embarrassment. “Some of the senior staff might have known as well,” he said, turning to Seward. “What do you think?”

  Seward inclined his head, as if considering it. “It’s possible a few of the senior staff might have known,” he allowed. “No way to tell how many, not for certain.”

  “So a few people then.” Goring scribbled in his pad. “What about ex-employee’s? Big companies like this one always have a few old staff with an ax to grind. Who might’ve had that, AND known about the Vault?”

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  Matthew hesitated. Maine opened her mouth, then clamped down quickly. Goring looked up, eyes flashing between the two.

  “Aside from what you’ve witnessed today, we’ve a very loyal staff with a high retention rate,” Seward answered for them. “Turnover is very rare in our company. And as for ex-employees who might’ve known about the Vault…” Maine tensed, gripping the edge of her stool. She could see Matthew clench up as well, his fingers almost white with effort.

  “...none spring to mind,” Seward shrugged. Maine blinked in surprise. Matthew swallowed in relief.

  Goring was peering sharply at the Naga, looking disappointed. “Huh, is that so? Well, that certainly doesn’t make our job easier,” he griped, writing again in his book.

  Matthew rolled his eyes. “Well I’d hate for that to happen,” he remarked.

  Goring’s pencil froze mid-scribble. “Yes,” he said slowly. “That would be a shame.” His narrow little eyes flashed to Maine and he smiled nastily. “Well, now that we’re talking about accomplices, why don’t we start with your sister, hmmm? She was helping the Firstborn after all, we have several witnesses.”

  Maine folded her arms, sticking her nose in the air. “I don’t have to answer that,” she told him.

  “Oh yes you do,” he warned her. He marched over to Maine, looming over her and thrusting his gut forwards. “I could have you in prison this afternoon, you know that missie? Snap of my fingers, and I’ll do it if I catch a whiff of a lie from you!”

  “Ha! I’d like to see you try!” she yelled back, elbowing him in the stomach as she fought to stay on the stool. The lantern fell off her lap and rolled on the floor, unnoticed. “I want a lawyer! I want a trial by combat! I want pistols at dawn!”

  Matthew cleared his throat loudly, almost having to shout to be heard. “My sister only helped the Firstborn because they were holding me hostage!”

  Goring and Maine both froze. “What?” they said together.

  Matthew smiled slowly, clearly savoring the moment. “Yes, the only reason my sister would ever dream of working with people like that would be to save my life.” He gave Maine a look of almost sickening adoration, marred only slightly by the smile tugging at his lips. “My sister’s always put the wellbeing of others before herself. It’s the thing I’ve always admired most about her…” He sniffed, his voice breaking just a little.

  “If you expect me to believe that-” Goring started, but Maine shoved him aside.

  “That’s not true and you know it!” she exploded angrily. She leapt off the stool, but Matthew was quicker, jumping around Gran’s desk to catch his sister in a huge hug.

  “There, there,” he said, holding Maine tightly in his arms, and not coincidentally keeping his hand pressed over her mouth. Maine fought, kicking and swinging her fists, but her brother just continued to console her, “She’s so shy, my sister, ow- quit it! Hates to have people talk about her…” Behind the pair of them, Seward just rolled his eyes.

  “All that you need to know,” Matthew continued, “is that Maine is completely innocent about helping the Firstborn. She only did it for my sake. Everyone,” he stressed as she continued to flail her legs, “will tell you the same thing. That’s how selfless she is.”

  Goring grimaced, staring at the two of them as Maine’s muffled yells continued. He was gripping the end of his pencil so tightly that it finally snapped in his hands, one end flying over his shoulder. “Fine!” he shouted angrily, giving up. “What about the other one then? This Fink character? Where’d he come in?”

  Maine’s eyes perked up, and she paused her struggles for a moment.

  “I’ve no idea,” her brother said.

  Seward nodded. “I can assure you that he wasn’t on the guest list.”

  “Any idea where he went? Where did any of them go?”

  Matthew finally released Maine and she stumbled away, wiping at her mouth disgustedly. “Into Old Coney,” her brother said helplessly. “Your guess is as good as mine…”

  “We’ve made a few hasty inquiries ourselves,” Seward added. “So far, no one’s sure exactly where the carts were driven towards, but if we get word, we’ll definitely notify you.”

  Goring grumbled, looking between the two of them sourly. “You’re not giving me a lot to work with here,” he complained, tucking his notepad back in his jacket. Behind him, Maine along the floor, retrieving Ifri’s lamp and beginning to check it for damage. Seward’s eyes narrowed as he watched her.

  Matthew was frowning at Goring. “Well, we were under the impression it was your job to do the investigating,” he reminded him.

  “Well, within reason,” the little officer told him, a little huffily. “I mean, there’s some places in Old Coney that I can’t even send my men-”

  “-Does that include our house?” Matthew demanded. “We sent three messages to you about arranging security and crowd control for the Auction, so where were your men? You can’t have missed all of them!”

  “Listen, I go where the City tells me-”

  “-Maine, don’t!” Seward yelled abruptly as she clicked the lid open.

  With a burst of fire, Ifri leapt onto the floor, tumbling head over heels across the ashy surface. Goring gave a yelp as he scrambled back, clutching at his gun belt, his face suddenly white.

  “What is that!?” he yelled in a panic.

  The kitten sat blinking on the floor, looking around the room in some surprise. He yawned and stretched awkwardly, a little off-balance, before becoming distracted by the scraps of smoldering paper lying on the floor around him. His tail thrashed about as he tackled the paper, batting it about, sending ash and dust flying in the air. Goring flinched back

  “It’s just my cat,” Maine told him. She scooped Ifri up off the floor and held him in her arms tightly, kissing the top of his head. “My Gran made him for me, he’s one of a kind.” The fiery red kitten gave a small meow as if in agreement, sparks shooting out from his whiskers.

  Goring stared at the pair of them from a safe distance. “He’s magic? A magic cat?”

  “An experiment from Ms Maierson,” Seward explained in a pained voice. “One I hoped we’d seen the last of.”

  “Maine, you have to put that thing away,” her brother told her. “You know how Miss Imi and the rest of the staff feel about him.”

  Ifri pawed at Maine’s cheek and she cradled him protectively. “I can’t do that! He doesn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

  “Where have we heard that before?” Seward wondered aloud.

  Goring however, was bending down closer to the floor, staring at a perfect set of four, tiny pawprints, burnt and blackened into the floorboards, with faint wisps of smoke curling out of them. He looked from the burnt prints to Maine, cuddling Ifri in her arms. “How is she doing that?”

  “The cat’s fire is a bit selective,” Seward explained. “It only affects people he doesn’t like.”

  “That’s right, Ifri would never burn me, would you?” she asked, nuzzling him again. Ifri meowed in answer, blinking his eyes sleepily.

  “Which still means he’s a fire-hazard for the rest of the house,” Matthew complained. “Maine, you have to put him away again. I can’t have the house burn down on top of everything else!”

  “I’ll keep watch of him,” she promised.

  “Maine…”

  “I mean it! And besides,” she added, “I can’t put him away. Not for long anyways.” At her brother’s dumb stare, Maine rolled her eyes. “The Urn? The one Gran made to trap Ifri? It was smashed, remember? Until someone makes another one, I have to keep him in the lantern or with me.” She dangled the kitten high up in the air, smiling at him. “So it looks like we’re stuck with him.”

  Matthew sighed and looked at Seward, who nodded sadly. “I guess it’s another thing for Cherwood to work on,” he mumbled.

  Goring was still staring at the little kitten, his lips twitching. “Well, I supposeI’ll get back to our investigation,” he said shakily, backing up a step at a time. “I’ll let you know if anything turns up.” He jumped as his backside hit the door, then scuttled out of the room, letting the office door slam behind him.

  Matthew sighed, giving Seward a long suffering look. “Do we really have to depend on him to solve this?” he asked plaintively.

  “He’s never been the most dedicated of officers, I admit,” Seward told him, “but I don’t see how we have much choice.”

  Maine leaned against Gran’s desk, setting Ifri down on the surface. “We could take over,” she offered. Her brother gave her a flat stare. “I’m serious! We’ve got everything we need to solve this. First thing we have to do is start with Henna. She’s the one who gave them access-”

  “NO,” Matthew said forcefully. “I’m not having Henna dragged into this!”

  Maine hit the desk with her fist, making Ifri jump. “You know she’s the one who helped them! Don’t act like you didn’t recognize her handwriting. Just because you were sweet on her-”

  “I think Maine needs to go back to her room now,” her brother told Seward.

  “Matthew!” she shouted.

  “For good! And you might as well pack your bags while you’re up there,” he added. “I’m going to write to your school as soon as I can. Maybe, if I’m very lucky, they’ll deign to take you back. Until then, I don’t want to hear another peep from you.”

  He waved his hand and Seward stepped forwards to take her arm. Maine snagged up Ifri and glared at her brother as she was led back to the library, where Kelphin was waiting anxiously.

  “Please take Miss Maierson upstairs and return her to her room,” Seward said coldly. The Elf nodded as Maine fumed.

  “Really, dear,” Kelphin fretted as he led her upstairs, “it’s for the best. You just wait in your room with Miss Imi and we’ll sort out everything downstairs. Then, we’ll have you back at school in no time at all! Won’t that be fun?”

  Maine grumbled, her mind racing. As they went down the hall, she stopped suddenly in front of a side door. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom,” she said quickly.

  Kelphin jumped, looking around the hall nervously. “Um, yes, of course, but… Can you wait until I fetch a maid-”

  “No! I’ve got to go now!” She started to hop up and down, crossing her legs. Before he could stop her, she opened the door and sprang inside, slamming it shut behind her. “I’ll just be a minute,” she called through it.

  Kelphin fretted, pacing back and forth “Just please be quick!” he called. After a long moment, he knocked on the door. “Maine? Hello?” There was no answer. He rattled the door knob, but it was locked. “Hello? Please say something!” he pleaded with her. He searched desperately through his pockets, almost dropping the key in his haste, and finally tugged open the door.

  The bathroom inside was empty of course. He raced to the open window and stared out. He could only see the drainpipe right outside the window, and the empty alley right below it.