Frank Poe

Month 12, Day 10, 9:00 AM

On the following day, Frank still had a number of errands to run left over from the previous day.

When Frank and Marie had finished their business at the University, Poe’s exhaustion from lack of sleep finally caught up with him, and they returned to the August Agency for a long rest. Or rather Frank rested, and Marie studied. And, while he was able to redeem Lacer’s draft in the evening, Marie was most interested in the 150 gold, which had more than made up for a few weeks of effort.

Still, prospective clients hadn’t filled the office yet. The August Agency had a long way to go before it would be a consistent source of income. Marie, in particular, seemed invested in the profitability of the Agency. And the first thing she wanted was the ledgers that Frank had used for the scrying. Frank dutifully handed them over, and Marie sniffed them suspiciously.

“Master Poe, these smell … singed. Did you attempt to burn them?”

“No. I used them in a scrying spell.”

“Oh, were you divining where our next clients would be coming from?”

“No. I was looking for you.”

“Shame. I figure we can’t continue to make much money investigating the Raven Queen.” Marie opened the yellowed journal and a folded corner fell from the ledger onto her table. “Why are my ledgers crispy?”

“Sometimes magic has inefficiencies. Components can be destroyed when drawing upon their nature.”

“In future, see if you can find a different component. Do I need to give you a lock of hair or something? That’s a lot less valuable than an accurate ledger.”

“No!” Frank replied exasperated. “Don’t give your hair or nail clippings or anything to anyone! You should burn or destroy any of that be ause malicious actors can hurt you with that sort of thing. Especially blood and bandages.”

“Yuck.” Marie frowned.

“Sympathetic magic curses and similar.”

“Like?”

“Spell arrays. Or, Mommets; Dolls. Largely outlawed of course, but difficult to trace.”

“Wizards play with dolls?”

“You can’t believe … you’re teasing me?”

Marie grinned. “I am. I know all the old stories. Sticking poppets with needles was a curse in the Mrs. Holyoke mystery stories Madame read to me when I was small.”

Frank sighed. “Mommets are a real method of attack, but sympathetic spell arrays are clearer, more powerful, and … deadly.”

“Illegal?”

“Do you suppose that if you made the enemy of the Crown, Lord Morrow, or the Raven Queen that the illegality would stand in their way?”

“Maybe? Blood magic is punishable by death.”

“I can assure you, if someone is good enough to use your hair to hurt you, they are probably good enough not to get caught. Although there are many counters: wards, reverse scrying, artifacts, and other more esoteric defenses.”

Marie blanched slightly.

“I was wondering; how did they catch Ennis?”

“They found him in a brothel. He doesn’t appear to be magically talented, a bit of a … let’s just say he’d be the sort of man to visit Hands, Hearts, and Palms regularly.”

“This is the person that raised the Raven Queen?”

“I wouldn’t say raised, necessarily. The Raven Queen learned her magic from her Grandfather. What she learned from Ennis … I do not know.”

“Well, how did they live?”

“Ennis seems to have tricked people out of their money and they wandered quite a bit.”

“How?”

“He … huh.” Frank felt it before he consciously made the connection. “He would pretend to be someone with money or power. He’d give the appearance of wealth through clothes or ….”

Frank realized there was a connection he missed. ‘What happened to his trinkets? His clothes?’ Frank thought.

Frank strode away, mid-conversation, and went to his desk. He barely noticed that Marie followed him from her table.

He pulled out the file, then decoded it with a slight twist of his will—wincing as he did—then flopped it open over the old spell array he’d yet to clean up. He skimmed the sections on Ennis again and skipped to the information about where his possessions supposedly were.

“They weren’t in his room!”

“What does that mean?” Marie asked.

Frank looked up at her, and smiled. “Let’s do some shopping!”

“Boots?” Marie grinned back.

“Sure. Also, a fire lighter, smoking box, comb, and maybe even some clothes!”

“Um?”

“I know just where we should shop too …” Frank snatched his coat off the rack and strode out of the office with Marie practically jogging to keep up. They walked just down the street. If Marie was disappointed to return to the junk shop with the little green antlers painted in the corner of the window, she didn’t show it.

Unfortunately, neither of them were dressed like poor locals, so getting a bargain at the shop might be difficult. Marie’s dress, after being shifted to the black, gave her an elegance and style that made her appear every inch a young scion of wealth. Frank hadn’t thought about that when he’d rushed out. Now how would he get a reasonable price for anything?

‘What I need is …’ Frank’s thoughts interrupted when he saw the glinting box through the grimy window. Frank stifled a grin.

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Frank had a short conversation with Marie, and they entered the shop together.

Frank paused inside to give his eyes a moment to adjust to the darker shop. He idly wondered if the dim lighting made the second-hand products more attractive. A few customers appeared to be sifting through the racks of clothes.

The same shopkeeper wandered out among the shelves, with the same avarice in his eyes as last time. This time, however, Frank was ready. He walked quite near the shopkeeper but pointedly ignoring the man. Marie followed and they wandered to the displays. Frank took out a mirror that he began waving around the cases of trinkets.

Frank prearranged this signal with Marie.

“Edward, I just don’t understand, how could you lose my birthday gift? I even bought an enchanted one so that you would always know where it was.” Marie said. Frank felt that she did quite a good job sounding naturally like a wealthy brat.

“I did not lose it. It was stolen from me! My coat and everything.” Frank replied. “But, I’ll surprise that thief! I’ve got the scrying mirror from the enchanter, and I’m sure that its somewhere here.”

The shopkeeper tried to look nonchalant, but his eyes told a different story. He was glancing nervously to the curtain that lead to the back of the shop.”

“There it is!” Frank pointed to a fancy box for smoking supplies. “Sir,” Frank addressed the shopkeeper. “You are in possession of stolen goods! I demand you turn my property over to me this instant.”

Perhaps the shopkeeper was used to such scams, because he narrowed his eyes. But, he also was glancing anxiously at the few other customers who began to subtly listening in. But, if the man remembered Frank at all, he would be more suspicious.

But, as usual, there was not even a flicker of recognition.

“Respectfully sir, we only receive goods here from honest sources. What proof do you have of ownership?”

“It’s right there! I’ve walked all over town with this enchantment to find it!” Frank flashed the ordinary mirror around but didn’t let the man get a good look.

“Sir, please calm yourself. What proof do you have that this smoking box is yours?”

“If you open the lid, you will see my initials engraved on the inside. ‘E.N.’ for Edward North. Go ahead then, check! You’ll see I’m right.” Ennis had supplied a very helpful description of the box to the coppers.

The shopkeeper reluctantly did so, and with a depressed sigh, showed Frank the initials.

“Hand it over then.”

“But sir, we paid good coin in exchange for this. We’ll lose that money …”

“Perhaps you can explain your stolen goods to the Coppers!” Frank shouted. He was really beginning to enjoy this. The customers snuck a little closer. He wanted to make sure they got a good show.

Frank still reckoned that he would pay up, but he’d get a discount. He was about to offer something out of reconsidered sympathy, when the shopkeeper took the initiative on his own.

“Sir, would you consider a finder’s fee for it perhaps?”

The man’s gall was only matched by Frank’s own. Frank tried to put on an offended, but thoughtful, expression.

“Only if my comb and fire-lighter are here as well.” Frank replied. “And, if they are in perfect condition after being handled by some grubby thief!”

Marie turned around abruptly to hide her grin from the shopkeeper. Frank couldn’t be sure that the other customers failed to catch her smile, but the eavesdroppers still tried to keep a distance sufficient to plausibly argue they were shopping. Although, unless Frank’s curse hit them as well, the listeners would share the petty drama all over the neighborhood within an hour.

The shopkeeper’s eyes drifted over the case of combs and a shelf behind the counter that seemed to include enchanted trinkets. Frank watched him carefully. With the descriptions of the items from Ennis, he took another risk and pointed to the remaining objects that he suspected were Ennis’.

“There they are! Well. I suppose a finder’s fee wouldn’t be out of the question.” Frank dropped a pair of gold coins onto the counter. He daren’t risk trying to locate the clothes. A scry with the other objects might have shown him, but he wasn’t comfortable trying magic after he was already on orders to not cast.

The shopkeep looked sadly down at the gold pieces, but he took them, and handed over the several items embossed with an E.N.Frank suspected the shopkeeper probably only paid only slightly more than Frank had offered, and probably less.

“Perhaps you would be interested in some of our other wares?” The man asked. Frank turned and whispered to Marie.

“Do you see a pair of boots you’d like?”

Marie gave him a cold look.

“I don’t think secondhand boots are sufficient apology for destroying the old ones, do you?”

Frank tried, and failed to hide his smile.

“No, I suppose not.”

“Sir?” The shopkeeper asked. Frank turned back to him, turning his expression stern.

“Well. Since you’ve been so reasonable, we needn’t bother to call the coppers after all.”

Walking out of the shop, Frank left the shopkeeper vaguely red faced, the witnesses baffled, and himself a few coins lighter. But, Frank beamed. Marie followed him out.

“So, why did you need to make up a new name? Who is E.N. really?” Marie asked when they started walking back to the agency’s office.

“Ennis Naught. Someone, probably Siobhan Naught, took his clothing and worldly possessions from the inn room where they were staying. When Ennis didn’t get these items returned to him in prison, he complained.”

“How did you know that they would be in that shop?”

“It’s a little piece of the pattern, isn’t it? Siobhan Naught is poor. That was the entire reason Ennis brought her to the University to try to get a sponsor. She’s unlikely to have much money at all, and the only things she has of value are Ennis’ things. She needed to sell them.”

“Why would she sell them?”

“She’s a sorcerer who needs a new conduit, but she’s very very poor. She is not ‘only eat cake on weekends’ poor. Rather, Siobhan Naught is ‘begging on street corners’ poor.

The file makes it clear that Ennis is all bluff; he doesn’t have any real money. Once you know that the Raven Queen is that poor, and that she has allies with the Stags, obviously she’ll sell the goods through one of their fences. Maybe that shop is honest, or maybe its not, but …”

“Why not sell the book?”

“Something like that is so priceless it is also worthless. The only people that would pay for it, like the Crowns or the University, could take it from her as easy as a snowcap eagle stealing a fish from the fishers’ nets.”

“This wouldn’t have been enough money for a conduit.”

“Not really, no. Even a fence doesn’t pay market value.”

Marie seemed to think this over, even as they returned to the office and dumped the junk on Frank’s desk. Marie finally seemed ready to ask the question she’d been forming.

“Couldn’t you just ask him what she looked like?”

“I could, but there’s a handful reasons that’s not likely to help. Can you guess some of them?”

Marie thought for a bit.

“He’s going to pretend or lie; say that he doesn’t remember. No one likes a fence that would snitch.”

“Well reasoned! Since we aren’t the coppers, he has reason to lie and we have no way of proving otherwise. But even if he was truthful? We already know what the Raven Queen actually looks like, her posters are up all around town. Even if someone else sold him the goods, more likely than not I’ll end up tracing them to the Verdant Stag. They won’t tell me anything. But there is something else we can do.”

“What?”

“I don’t think the Raven Queen sold the good personally, because its too risky. So, if she used a proxy, we can scry the seller. If I know where they are, we might have clue about the Raven Queen’s location. Once I have my strength back, we might give it a try. For now though …”

Frank withdrew a glass box from his desk and put the three objects in it.

“This will keep them safe till we’re ready to use them. Hopefully they were sold recently, otherwise the spell will just point to the shopkeeper. Now. Boots?”

Marie grinned. Frank led them back out into the streets to find Marie a decent cordwainer.

“I like Schumacher’s; do you know it?” Frank asked as they walked. Marie shook her head. Frank continued: “It’s in the middle of the city, and they treat their custom boots with waterproofing, and make them with thick soles that don’t slip even on wet decking or icy streets. Simple, but enchantments aren’t always what you want.”

“Do they make them in black?”

“Of course!”