Saturday. 2:33 PM

Davis stared at me. I stared back.

“So,” he said, dryly. “You know about the well.”

“And so do you,” I pointed out. “How’d you know?”

“I work for the council. It’s a matter of public security to keep it secret.”

“And you can’t keep it secret if you don’t know about it,” I finished. “Sure. Does your uncle know?”

His brow furrowed, first in confusion, then in anger. “If you’re implying—”

“Not implying anything,” I interrupted, quickly. “Just asking a question. There’s going to be a lot of money in KC, soon.”

“My uncle’s the most upright—” He clenched his fists, sitting forward. “I don’t need to justify anything to you.”

“I never said you did.” I paused, glancing over my shoulder to see if Murray was still on the phone. She was. With that in mind, I decided to stop needling him. “Can I go on?”

…

Friday. 9:07 PM

I rubbed the back of my neck as the burly guard set out the contents of my two bags, his eyebrows raising more and more acutely as he went through the religious icons one at a time.

“And what’s this?” His thick mustache twitched as he spoke, holding up a carved wooden symbol.

I looked at it uncertainly. “Eh…”

“An Operating Thetan,” Ben supplied. Glancing at me, he added, “A lot of scientologists live in the city.”

“Tell me again what you were doing down there?” He looked between us, eyebrows raised.

Ben had told the lie first, and he maintained it confidently. “Geocaching.”

“And that is…?”

“It’s like, eh, treasure hunting. People hide boxes around the world, mark their location via GPS, and then other people find them. We always leave behind little symbols and knickknacks…” he nodded to the object in the security officer’s hand, now the steel colander, and continued, “So there’s always something to find, and something to take.”

“Uh-huh.” He crossed his arms, sitting back. “And why’s there a ‘Geo-cache’ in my basement?”

“Eh… some people like an extra challenge?”

I sat forward, sensing that Ben’s story wasn’t going too well. “Look, sir. We’re really sorry. We were just goofing off. I know it was irresponsible, and we promise not to do it again.” I smiled, trying to gauge it enough to appear genuine without being over-the-top. “Could you let us go with a warning?”

He looked between us, frowning deeply, lips hidden almost completely by the bushy mustache he wore. “Why the horseplay?”

“Erm…” I started to say.

“Dizzy spell,” Ben supplied. “He got a little tipsy at First Friday before we came here, and the stairs left him winded. We’re old college buddies, we haven’t seen each other in ages and it got a little out of hand.”

That’s ridiculous. My breath doesn’t smell like alcohol.

The guard nodded, buying it. “Fine. If I see you two around here again, though, you’d best be model citizens.”

“You could put us in your train display,” I joked, chuckling with relief.

I don’t think he got the joke. Dumping the various icons back into the bag, he pushed it back across the desk. “Get out of here. The station’s closing.”

“Thank you, so much,” I said, pushing to my feet and picking up the bag.

As soon as we got out of the security office, I was on the lookout for trouble. “Watch for Agnita. She’s probably waiting for us.”

“Then let’s not give her an opportunity,” Ben responded, quietly. “We can find a group, stick with them until we’re clear.”

“Why’d you say I’d been drinking? I have no idea why he bought it.”

Ben scanned the grand hall, watching for trouble. “People only see what they’re looking for. He wanted an excuse for why two guys were acting weird on a night where half the people who pass through are drunk. I don’t see your counsellor anywhere.”

“Good.” I tried to clear my thoughts. “Now we just need to figure out where to go from here.”

“Get back on the streetcar? That’s a good way to put some distance down, fast.”

I grimaced. I’d had enough of that streetcar for one day, and besides, Agnita was probably expecting that. “Can you call us a rideshare? I’ll pay you back.” I didn’t have the money to pay him back, but I’d figure something out.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, pulling out his phone. “Where are we going?”

I tapped my forehead, going on a hunch. “Eighteenth and Vine. The jazz district.”

Ben raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question my reasoning. He punched in the address, requested a driver, and waited for the app to give a little jingle. “The driver is three minutes away, but there’s surge pricing since it’s a busy evening.”

“Crap.” I frowned, checking my pockets for money I knew wasn’t there. “I… I’ll figure something out, if you can just spot me for now.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Levi…”

“I know, you don’t think I’m good for it, but I swear-”

“Levi.” He shook his head, stepping closer to me. “I’ve got it. Don’t worry about it.”

“I…” I started to say. “I’m not going to ask you to bail me out of this. It’s my problem, and—”

He cut me off. “I already called the driver. It’s on my bill. You’ve got enough on your plate.”

I sighed, begrudgingly accepting the help. I didn’t want to admit it, but I probably needed it. “Thanks.”

Ben moved on without losing his stride. “So, then. What’s the plan?”

“I know what’s going on,” I said, looking around the hall, watching for trouble. “I need to check something, but… I think I know.”

“What’s going on?”

I opened my mouth to explain, then shut it, shaking my head. “Once we’re in the car. I’m tired. Can’t focus on talking and looking at the same time.”

“Sure.”

We watched, and though I tried to focus, too many thoughts were swirling around in my head. The well. The information I was more and more certain I’d find on Andrea’s phone. The reason for the three counsellors in town.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

I barely noticed that I was drumming my fingers to my head, and I almost didn’t notice Ben’s hand on my arm until he gave a gentle pull to get my attention.

Looking at him, I frowned. “What?”

“Car’s here.”

“Right.”

I followed him out, he checked the plates to make sure it was the right vehicle, and we got in.

“Okay,” he said, once we were in the back. “What’s going on?”

I unslung my backpack, digging out the book on leylines and passing it over. “First, I need you to look up everything you can on the creation of wells. I don’t want to run my mouth without checking it first.”

He took the book and turned on the small back seat light, flipping it open. “What am I looking for, in specific?”

“If it’s possible, what it takes to do it, long term costs, that kind of thing,” I said. Reaching into Agnita’s bag, I took out Andrea’s phone.

My fingers were shaking. I chalked that up to lack of sleep. I checked her messages first.

She had a text from her mom. The notification was at the top of the screen, and I couldn’t help but see what it said. ‘Sweetheart, you said you were going to call. Is everything okay?’

My hand balled into a fist, and I had to take a few breaths to steady myself.

Checking her other messages turned up very little. A few contacts with clients, but nothing relevant. I opened the web browser, scrolling through the history. Not much use there. Moving on, I checked her email.

Bingo.

At the top of the app, an email thread with more than a dozen responses.

I opened the thread and scrolled all the way to the top, which had been sent more than a month ago.

RE: Questions regarding the contracting work

Isaac,

I noticed some discrepancies with the work you had me do at the Vine street address, and I wanted to clear things up. You said the cauldron setup you were going for was a Type 4 Philomena BrewMaster, but the inspection and recommendation was to install a station with a weight of eight tons. That’s going to be at least a Type 10 BrewMaster, if you’re even using the Philomena line - Really, at that weight level, you’re looking at industrial levels of equipment.

Given this, I wanted to make sure that you weren’t attempting to install something heavier duty than what we discussed. There’s simply no way to get you the raw power you’ll need to enchant those potions in Kansas City, without an enormously expensive power bounce from Chicago.

-Andrea Hills

Forest & Trees Contracting

Isaac replied with a simple dismissal, and Andrea simply gave an acknowledgment before moving on. A week later, though, she followed up.

Isaac,

Apologies if this comes off as paranoid, but I’m having some serious concerns. I noticed that two other clients of mine had made similar requests to your own - inspections of buildings for construction of a magical production supply, with weight and electrical draw requirements that don’t match the specs of the equipment you say you’re installing.

If you’re planning on building an industry in KC, I feel like I have to advise that you act prudently. I’ve run the numbers, and the cost of sending power through long-distance leylines will quickly outstrip any possible revenue you’re considering by an order of magnitude.

Additionally, my inspections were for the products and specs that you requested. If you’re installing something different, I cannot vouch for the safety rating, and wouldn’t feel comfortable signing off on it. If you need to consider alternatives, I’d be happy to help.

-Andrea Hills

Forest & Trees Contracting

No response from Isaac at all, that time. Andrea followed up twice with requests for information, but Isaac had stopped responding entirely. The latest email was sent just a day ago.

Isaac,

I think I know what you’re doing. However you managed to get on the inside of that deal, I can’t have my name attached to it.

What you’re doing is wrong. It’s going to destroy local businesses. I’m going to report you to the Bureau of Magical Commerce in the morning unless you give me a good reason not to.

-Andrea Hills

Forest & Trees Contracting

That was the last email she sent.

It was the last email she ever sent.

Checking her call history, I saw a handful of phonecalls coming in from unlisted numbers, the first outgoing call that had gone to me. Then, an outgoing call to me at 12:47, and just a minute later there was a call to 911 that had gone out but lasted for one second. The counsellor had come in to kill her just moments after her call to me ended.

I did the math in my head, recalling a circle of stones I’d seen in Andrea’s back yard that I’d mistaken for a garden feature.

It all made sense.

“I’ve got something,” Ben said, bent studiously over the book. “Making a well is rare, but it’s not impossible. You need some sort of relic-type item, apparently the last known person who could make them was… Oh, you’re kidding me. Merlin.”

“He got all the legends for a reason,” I commented, idly. “So if you have one of those relic thingies, you can make one?”

“It still takes a lot of juice, and you have to do it at a certain astrological time, in certain, well-attuned places. Then you need thirteen trained practitioners, it’s a whole big thing.” He shrugged. “Is that what you were looking for?”

“So, expensive rare items, a lot of power, a lot of talent. The sort of thing the commonwealth has, and not many other groups.” I drummed the side of my head. “Okay. It all fits with the other stuff.

“The other stuff?”

“Garret’s shop. The pathfinding stones Maggie was selling. Even Mariah’s cauldrons, I bet, it was all sabotage.” I tried to think of how best to put it all. “I… it’s a lot of words. Give me a moment.”

I took out my laptop, opened the writing software I used, waited for it to load properly, and wrote it out like a story.

It took me most of the drive to finish. Even that was only possible due to heavy traffic and a lot of lights buying me extra time. It was rough, and it’d need some serious polish, but I knew in my heart that it was right.

Andrea Hills was a good person. You can ask anyone.

As an architect and a contractor, her performance was impeccable. She worked hard, she didn’t cut corners, she saw everything through to the last detail. She had integrity, a business built from real skill and honest work, and an irrational urge to always do the right thing.

The same cannot be said for the people who killed her.

When contracted by a handful of businesses to survey local buildings, determining their suitability for building magical work stations, she wasn’t going to start doing a poor job. She went above and beyond what she was asked to do. When she noticed the specs they were asking for did not line up with the equipment they claimed to be installing, she put in the extra leg work, and started to put the pieces together.

Through persistence and work, she found out the truth. The Commonwealth of Wizards, the very body meant to protect the integrity of our society, is going to install a well beneath Union Station. Rather than be truly neutral, they’d allowed this information to fall into private hands, and those private hands chose to take advantage of their insider knowledge.

Unwilling to compete on a level playing field, these corporations began to sabotage local businesses, all the while building their own competing services, preparing to completely dominate the market once the magical power became available. Garret’s workshop, the brewing abilities of the Reading Room, and other independent workers were all hit during this time, to eliminate the competition.

Andrea found all this out, but she couldn’t simply go to the public. It would have been against her nature. She had to give the corporate criminals a chance to do the right thing, to come clean.

That decision killed her.

The commonwealth couldn’t risk their dirty dealings becoming public. When Andrea demanded that they admit their wrongdoing, they doubled down. She was threatened. Unable to use council resources for fear of leaving paperwork, a counsellor was sent to hex her phone from her own backyard.

And, when Andrea tried to contact a journalist to beg for help, that same counsellor broke into her house to try and intimidate her into silence.

When Andrea tried to call 911, the plan to intimidate her was dropped. The counsellor killed her. Her life was stolen to protect corporate interests and council corruption.

Before the body had time to cool, the coverup started. Because she’d tried to contact me and I knew something was amiss, I became a target. An attempt was made to arrest me before I could find the truth, and when that failed, the council instead tried to kill me.

The well will be installed during the planetary conjunction in two weeks’ time. I don’t yet know the specific corporations involved in the conspiracy, but watch for large businesses involved in potion brewing, spellwork, and rune manufacturing.

I added quotes from Andrea’s emails for evidence, slid my laptop over to Ben, then pulled up Andrea’s phone. While he read, I began scrolling through her emails to look for a specific address.

I felt good about it. The article wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot. It was more subjective than what I usually wrote, featuring a lot of guesswork and only a little hard facts. If I had more time before publication, and if I wasn’t on the run from the council, I would have done more work on it. As it stood, I didn’t have the time.

The driver parked, glancing back at us. “Is this the place?”

“Yeah,” I said, glancing between him and Ben.

Ben was engrossed in reading, but he looked up for just long enough to say, “Just idle for a minute, I’ll double your tip.”

The driver shrugged. “Sure thing, misters.” He adjusted the mirror, sat back, and crossed his arms to wait.

When he was done, Ben let out a breath. “Wow.”

I held my breath. “Is that a good wow?”

“I think so.” He looked up at me. “Are you sure about all this?”

“Damned sure,” I replied. “I just need the evidence to prove it.”