Hope, it turns out, is a fragile thing.

Vale was waiting for them at the gates of the city with a sad smile on her lips. She wore a finely tailored sleeveless black gown that came down to her ankles. A pair of black gloves covered her arms, stopping above the elbow. It left her shoulders bare. The collar of the dress came up high along her neck making it seem longer, slenderer, and more feminine. Ian decided it was a startling, and frankly breathtaking, change to her appearance.

“The Arcane Seer is dead. An unknown assassin infiltrated the city, past the wards, through the guards, including the Heren’elen itself, and murdered him,” Her voice cracked now again as she relayed the grave news. “The Fallen Kings are investigating, but I doubt they will find any clues. We on the under-leaf know exactly who did this.”

Mal shifted over to Vale and pushed his head against her thigh to offer comfort. She reached down and began to pet him, looking at the wolf while addressing the others. “Over the next few hours, I will have some duties that I must attend to, as the last remaining relative. Tomorrow we will continue with our mission to get Ian home,” Her melodious voice shifted to a tone of harsh bitterness, “And defeat the Court.”

Ian offered her a comforting smile. The same smile he’d offered so many times to grieving widows, fathers, and all manner of loved ones after a loss. A smile that, even once, was used far too often.

She stood back up, giving Mal a final scratch, and addressed Roland. “What did you find in the cave?”

“Nothing of use I’m afraid. Years of absorbing every piece of arcane knowledge… but I could barely discern what it was I was looking at,” Roland said his frustration leaking into every word.

“We need to plan our next steps. Ian informed us that there was, or is, a Star Chart at Justiciar Law,” Ban spoke softly, pulling them all from their grief and back to the task at hand.

“Yes that is what we were doing at Justiciar Law,” Vale said while giving Ian a disapproving glare, then turned her attention to Ban, “The Seer had information that the lawyours there were with the Court and that the Court, in turn, had a Star Chart. I am unsure if the attacks afterward are any indication of that or merely attempts to capture Ian. However, it is the last, the last…” Her voice hitched, and she cleared her throat. “We will talk later, I have secured your rooms at the Star Tree Inn. When I have finished my duties, I will find you.”

“Do you want company? I can’t offer much help, but I can go with you… so you’re not alone,” Ian offered lamely, seeking a way to make up for his earlier slip about the Star Chart. At least that’s what he told himself.

The corners of Vale’s lips turned up, a dim forgery of her radiant smile, “No, Ian, thank you. Elven funerals are a private affair for blood family and chosen family alone. Please go with Ban and Roland to the Inn.” She gave a bow and departed. Mal followed behind her, his bushy tail hanging low.

They made it to the Star Tree Inn with Ian stopping only once to ask for directions. Behind the counter, Lirey, or Reyli, nodded politely. Her face was as morose as the city outside. In keeping with the theme of mourning, she wore a black dress with golden highlights around the fringes.

“Welcome back, Gent McClintoc. We have rooms ready for you and your friends, Lady Therrae sent word ahead.” Reaching under the desk she produced three keys and set them on the countertop. “True sorrows for her dear Uncle.”

“Thank you,” Ian said as he accepted the keys, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Loss?” Reyli, or Lirey, asked with a quizzical expression on her face, “We have all gained much from The Arcane Seer’s wisdom and will never lose that. It is sad, but he is with Yebarra now, and the cycle of life goes on.”

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“Of course, thank you. Good evening Lady Reyli," Ian said as he handed the keys to Roland and Ban and pocketed one before heading to the bay of floortals.

“It’s Lirey,” She corrected with a smile on her lips. She must be used to people confusing her with her sister by now.

…...

They all gathered in Ban’s room to discuss the next steps. Roland moved over to the small dining area and pulled out one of the two chairs to seat himself. The other he kicked out towards Ian while Ban took the bed.

“Roland, you have been quiet since we got here. Which means you are planning something.” Ban said it wasn’t a question. He knew his friend and when Roland was quiet it meant that massive mind of his was working on a problem. Though his solutions were not always legitimate or safe, they were always something grand.

“Of course,” Roland said stirring from his thoughts, “I’m thinking about the problems we face. Getting Ian home. Which leaves the Star Chart. We have to get it. And whatever the Court is planning that they needed to rip Ian from his home…” Roland’s violet eyes settled on Ian, “Well we cannot allow him to be captured. I don’t understand what makes Ian so important to them. You aren’t powerful. You aren’t exceptional in any way,” he hastily continued as Ian’s expression changed into a scowl, “perhaps they are planning an invasion of your home? Maybe a rare resource or magic in your homeland, or something unique in your blood?” Musing out loud the mage soon lapsed into silence as he followed his train of thought.

“Our course of action is obvious,” Ban said, shaking his head and carried on, knowing he only had a fraction of Roland’s attention at best, “We must reclaim the Star Chart as soon as possible. The longer we wait the greater the risk of the Court figuring out our goal and bolstering their defenses.” He grabbed a decorative pillow from the bed and hurled it straight at the distracted mage’s head. “I am assuming that in your studies, you have determined a way to send him back home?”

“Yes. There are several spells that can do the job,” Roland said offhandedly, his eyes still piercing into Ian.

Ian leaned back in his seat, suddenly feeling very much like a lab experiment under the mage’s gaze. “Then our goal remains the same. We follow The Seer’s original guidance and search Justiciar Law for the Star Chart. Or at least a clue as to where it is being kept," Ian turned to Ban, “Since you’re the inside man, how do we accomplish that? What kind of security do they have?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Ban said, bringing up a hand to idly stroke his horns, “Beyond the main lobby guard and the offices belonging to lawyours, I’ve not seen anything. It would be foolhardy for a thief to break into a lawyour office. Not a lot in the way of valuables, besides the armor and weapons. And a lawyour would gladly reclaim them to wield against you in trial. Regardless we should head straight for the Partner offices, which is on the floor above where you met Dakon DeBarro. No one goes up there, ever. So it would make sense that the most valuable items are stored there.”

“Do you think they’re aware of you?” Ian asked.

“The Court operates in secret as does someone in my position, so it’s possible,” Ban said with a dismissive shrug. “But it isn’t likely they haven’t alerted the office. What are they going to say? A Custodian of Peace is coming to arrest us, protect me? They’d be laughed at, manacled, and handed over. Honestly, I was amazed they created such a spectacle with the fires, and then brazenly attempted to grab you from the streets. Not their usual style which means they’re desperate. Worst case I’ve been fired for non-report, which still means I can go in to collect my things.”

“That’s our story if anyone tries to stop us then. Anything special about the Partner area that we need to know?” Ian asked.

“Magical locks. They will only open for one of the Partners, and only if they are not in distress. Which will be our main problem,” Ban said, launching a pillow at Roland. “You have any creative solutions for that problem, Roland?” Ban asked as the pillow slapped the mage.

“Yes,” Roland said, ignoring the pillow, “Get a Backpedal Box like any respectable thief would use. Turn time back on the affected area to the last moment that a Partner entered. Even the wolf could manage that. Ian, I wonder if I might have a sample of your hair?”

“Umm… sure?” Ian said, a tone of uncertainty in his voice.

Roland pulled out a knife from the depths of his robe and leaned over to cut a blonde lock from Ian’s hair. He got up, stuffed the hair into a vial, pulled from his seemingly bottomless robe pocket, and made his way out of the room.

“I guess we’re done for now?” Ian got up from his seat and headed for the door. “We should figure out the specifics with Vale anyways.”

“Do you still think she’ll still come with us? So soon after her...” Ban called after him.

“She wouldn’t trust my clumsy ass to fulfill her Uncle’s last request, now would she?” Ian said, exiting the room before Ban could respond.