We spent the next couple of days waiting to hear from Challacombe. As we were only designated zoological consultants, we were somewhat further down the line compared to the Chief Constable and the Police and Crime Commissioner. And Marcus didn’t want to bring too much attention by leaning on his contact. After two days of trawling through our list of names, we were knackered.

Speaking to people I can only charitably call scum is draining; mentally and spiritually. Experiments with plants have proven that plants spoken to lovingly grow better than plants which have hateful words shouted at them. Both receive the same amount of watering and plant food, and yet the plants which aren't loved are noticeably weaker than the loved ones.

I felt like those plants. Every person we spoke to, Shifter or Were, was a lifelong criminal. Their whole view of society was different to mine. Some were former murderers, others were pimps, drug pushers, thieves, muggers, gun runners, drug addicts and anything else you can think of.

I was taking three showers a day, and yet I still felt dirty. They were like Vampires, only feeding off joy and everything good in life, determined to rip you off. A couple tried to be smart. Fortunately, members of the Guild of Esteemed Agents of the Mark such as us, don't have to follow police procedural rules.

'How's the hand boss?' asked Dawn. We were sat in the local 'spoons, eating some well-deserved curry and beers.

'Not too bad, can't believe that arsehole's tooth caught my knuckle. You know humans have more bacteria in their mouth than dogs? Reckon it's infected?' I held it out for her inspection.

'No boss, serves you right for removing three of his teeth. Good punch though,' she grinned.

I laughed; it was hard not to. The ‘he’ we were referring to was a Wererat, and unfortunately lived up to every stereotype you could think of. Dirty, pox ridden, shifty.

Pox. Ridden. I didn't even think you could get the pox in modern England. But he was the living embodiment of a pox-ridden scavenger. Shuddering, I remembered how his eyes had looked me up and down, twice, slowly, whilst he sucked his goofy teeth approvingly. Things had gone downhill from there. Which is why, after five minutes of inappropriate propositioning, I'd punched his teeth down his throat. He'd declined to press charges. Especially after I'd kneed him in the balls when he suggested that he might like to press charges.

'Didn't do us any good thought, did it? We're absolutely nowhere along finding out who's doing it, and they haven't killed someone else since,' sighed Dawn.

'And we're no closer to finding out who the victims are either. No one, Magical or Mundane has been reported missing. It makes no bloody sense,' I said, chucking my phone onto the table. 'It's like they just appeared, popped into creation.'

'Well,' she dipped her naan bread into her korma and took a large bite, chewing as she spoke, 'what if they're not from here at all? What if they're from the UnderCity?'

My stomach lurched, 'Bloody hell, I think you're on to something. We've not been down into the UnderCity with our door knocking. Why would we? It's not our patch. It's no-one's patch. Bloody perfect. People go missing in the UnderCity all the time. You utter genius!'

As I reached for my phone to call Marcus, it buzzed. A text notification popping up.

'Oh God,' I said, holding the phone out for Dawn to read it.

A n o t h e r v i c t i m . E x e t e r t h i s t i m e , M a r c u s.

*

'There isn't a chance that this can be covered up. Not one,' I said as I looked at the mass of police vehicles parked, and the tent stood prominently on Exeter Cathedral’s Yard. The whole place was lined with shops, pubs, restaurants and served as a magnet for tourists and locals.

A large crowd lined the edges of the yard itself, marked by a low wall separating church land from the city. Mundanes wouldn't even feel the Wards which were buried deep in the wall. Flashing Charmed badges which made the Mundanes think we were important people; we gradually made our way through the crowd to the officers manning the tape.

'Zoological consultants. Here to see the Crime Scene Manager, Challacombe. He's expecting us.' I thrust my Charmed ID forward at the nearest policewoman.

'Ah, yes, your colleague has already arrived. He's over at the tent,' she said.

'Thank you, constable.' Pocketing the ID, I led Dawn through the tape, ducking as the constable lifted it. Once we arrived at the tent, we went through the usual rigmarole of getting into the coveralls, making sure that we got a mask as well. And then we stepped through into the murder scene.

*

'Well, that smashes the UnderCity theory', I said as we sat in the Cathedral Vestry sharing a cream tea. It was unfortunately getting easier to deal with the crime scenes. Dawn had barely puked. I didn’t view this as a good thing. We’d seen our fair share of death already, but the murder scenes were on a whole different level. And the smell. Good grief the smell.

'What theory was that then?' said Marcus.

'Dawn came up with the genius idea that the victims are coming from the UnderCity. But with this latest killing, that's well and truly blown out of the water.'

'Not necessarily, Albert Dunn is ... was a Merlin,' he said, 'and from our community as well. Doesn't mean that the previous two victims weren't from the UnderCity though. I think Dawn's on to something. We'll need to go down there to see if we can identify the victims. It's unlikely, but you never know.' I'd not come across Dunn before. I rarely mixed with true Merlins, and especially not mid-level Merlins. Not unless they were tied into a Mark.

'And now everyone, Mundane and Magical alike knows that we've got a serial killer. Why is nothing bloody simple?' I groaned.

'You've got it easy. All you have to do is find the killer and make sure that they stop breathing permanently. I've got to go and report to the Grand Merlin of Exeter.'

I winced. Marcus was right, we had it easier. With the Grand Merlin on the warpath, it was time for lowly peons such as me to keep our heads down.

'Right, well, we'll get down there. Good luck.'

*

The last time that we'd been down in the UnderCity had, to be frank, been utterly disastrous. We'd nearly died, fought Vampyres and Werewolves and killed a lot of people. Oh, and we nearly died. Especially me. All this meant that I approached the entrance with no small amount of trepidation.

'I'm bloody shitting myself,' whispered Dawn as we handed over a kitten as payment - also a sore subject - and headed through the entrance towards the main gate. 'Last time we were here you had your arse kicked, and I nearly became a Vampire's chattel.' It was as if Dawn was a mind-reader. Still, I should have thought that she'd be thinking roughly the same as me. It had been an utterly hellish time. 'Where do we start then?'

'I think that this time we need to speak to the Sheriff. Make it an official visit, after all we're hopefully here to help.'

'Sheriff? As in Cowboy?'

'More like of Nottingham. He's an unofficial representative of the Merlins, but everyone knows that he's really in their pocket. He's safe though, because if someone removed him then the Merlins would have to step in and set up shop properly. This way, everyone gets to live here, there's some sort of government, and the Merlins don't have to constantly fight a war for control.'

'Bloody hell, what a mess,' she said, raking her hands through her hair as we walked under a massive spider's web. The strands were as thick as my middle finger. Dawn wasn't a fan of spiders, so I swiftly guided her past the web, ensuring she wouldn't see the Rottweiler-sized spider whose web it was.

'Was that a spider's web?' she asked, starting to turn.

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

'Nope. Just some sort of net. Probably to catch pigeons or some such. Pigeon pie is lush,' I said. She shuddered and, suitably distracted, immediately forgot about the spider. I, however, didn't.

There hadn't been any spiders in the main part of the city for as long as I could remember. They were intelligent, capable of speech and reason, and some of the most cold-hearted assassins you could ever wish to hire if you had a mind to do so. Before my time there had been a little falling out between the spiders and a couple of other powerful factions in the city, with the result that the spiders had been forced to the fringes of the city. If they were back, and obviously so, something had most definitely changed, and not necessarily for the best.

'So where does this Sheriff live?'

'In the castle of course.'

'Meh, it's a ruin, and some old courts, isn't it?'

'Not this one. Don't forget, the UnderCity reflects what Exeter is, and was. Best you just wait and see. Grab your go bag. Just in case.'

*

'Wow, this was well worth the wait,' said Dawn as we turned on to the aptly named Castle Street. What were ruins now in the modern city of Exeter stood strong and proud. A moat ran around the outer walls, with the drawbridge proudly spanning the ditch. Guards, wearing a motley assortment of uniforms ranging from Iron Age through to the sort of kit worn by private military contractors, stood on the top of the gatehouse, and paced the walls. It was a sight that never failed to impress and was something which history buffs would have killed to see.

'Well try not to gawp too much. We're Agents, representatives of the Merlins. We'd don't gawp during work hours,' I smiled to soften my words.

We walked the rest of the way up to the drawbridge, nodded at the two guards positioned on the street end, and walked through to the gatehouse proper. Another guard, dressed in English Civil War era clothing stepped out, one hand on the hilt of his sword, the other on his M4 assault rifle. It looked surprisingly bad arse considering the anachronism.

'Ladies, how may I help?' he asked, scratching a rather nasty-looking rash on his neck.

'We're here to see the Sheriff. We don't have an appointment. Hopefully this will bump us up the queue,' I said as I passed him my Agent identification and a couple of £20s.

'Agent Doe, welcome to the Sheriff's residence. Please take these,' he passed us two Icons, 'they'll allow you to pass through most Wards in the sections of the castle which guests can enter. Please don't attempt to enter any sections which cause the Icons to buzz. If you do so, you will die. Screaming, and in massive pain.'

'Right, well, thank you for that,' I said as I took my ID wallet back. He grinned back, baring yellowed and broken teeth.

He's a Halfer, I thought, trying not to stare too hard. Halfers were viewed as a lower caste in both the UnderCity and Magical community's social hierarchies. Even the name was derogatory. Halfers were mixed blood, the mother and father from different humanoid races. They were half-people to many races. Never fully one or the other, with both often rejecting them. From his teeth, I could tell he was half-human, half-Redcap. My stomach knotted, Half-caps were some of the most violent Halfers there were. And the Sheriff had never employed any before.

Guess that explains the red hat and feathers, I thought ruefully. I tried not to look to close to see whether the hat was red because it was dipped in the blood of the Halfer’s most recent victim.

A page stepped forward, looked at the Icons we had draped around our necks, and asked us to follow her. And by page, I mean she was totally dressed up in medieval garb. Once we were across the courtyard, she led us through the main gate of the keep and into the heart of the building. Every step we took increased the sense of wrongness that I felt. Dawn was oblivious, this was only her second visit to the UnderCity after all, and I wouldn't expect an Apprentice to know all the ins and outs of such a convoluted society.

The changes weren't that subtle. Missing portraits, an abundance of portraits depicting a woman I'd never seen before and which didn't match those of the previous Sheriff. And bullet holes. Quite a few. Scorch marks as well. They weren't recent, as in the last few days, but had been caused during the last few weeks.

'Ebay onway ouryay uardgay, there's eenbay away angechay ofway owerpay. Iolentvay ootay.' I mumbled as we followed the page. She was just far enough away for me to be certain that she wouldn't hear.

'Ogerray.'

After what seemed to be an age, and which was clearly a delaying tactic on behalf of the page, we found ourselves stood before a wide studded oak door. Knocking three times, the page opened the door and waved us through.

*

'Ah, Agent Doe, and Apprentice. Please sit down, sit down. I have tea and coffee on the way.' The Sherriff was tall woman. Graceful, almost willowy, she wafted her hand at some comfortable leather chairs in the corner of her office, coming around her desk to join us. As she did so, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the top of which was pointed.

Another Halfer, things really have changed around here.

'I don't believe you were the Sherriff the last time we visited,' I said as we sat.

'No, Willem was unable to contain some of the more predacious elements of our city. There was a powerplay between the various factions and my people won through,' she said, giving a small smile. Halfers were nothing but predacious.

'Well, congratulations on your new position,' I said, 'and in surviving the powerplay. It looks like things got quite adversarial.'

'Yes, well. Certain members of the old guard were resistant to change,' another smile, 'I'm sorry, I haven't properly introduced myself, Sherriff Marnoch.' She extended her hand, palm down and ring out, as if she wanted me to kiss it. Reaching out, I grasped it firmly and shook, twice. Another smile, with a hint of iron this time. It was clear she knew I was refusing to kowtow. Why she thought an Agent of the Merlins would do such a thing I don't know.

Unless she's already had an Agent do such a thing, which did not bode well. I filed the thought away for another day. There was far too much going on just now to allow myself to get distracted.

'What was the issue with the predators who were the agents of change?' I asked to divert her attention from my refusal to align myself with her. I’d also assumed that the Halfers were the predators in question.

'A few months ago, there was a massive fight. Vampires, Werewolves. No-one knows what kicked things off as a lot of them were killed in the fighting that followed. However, it changed the balance of power, and we were fortunate enough to be able to step in and ensure we returned law and order to the city.'

I daren't look at Dawn. It felt like my heart had stopped, whilst my gut churned. I'd mentioned that we'd probably caused a disturbance in the balance of power after our cross-city battle, but I hadn't expected this. Maybe just some inter-gang killings. Minor stuff. Not a civil war and a new Sherriff. I’d literally kicked off a regime change.

'Something wrong?' She titled her head, eyes narrowed. She was sharp as a scalpel, crafty as a fox. She’d have had to be to have won a war fought on more than three fronts. And to keep everything together once it was over.

'No. Just surprised. We didn't hear a thing,' I said, waving a hand, trying to be as nonchalant as possible whilst bile rose in my throat. There wasn’t a chance I was going to admit my hand in this. To anyone. Ever. The Merlins would most certainly disapprove of someone such as myself effecting regime change.

'Well, we did discuss things with the Grand Merlin, but since we're an independent city state which is only guided by the Merlins, there was no need for them to step in, and so no need to broadcast the change in power.'

And those who normally came down here aren't usually the sort of people who would share such knowledge for free.

'The reason that we're here is because we're having a problem. Three people have been killed over the last week. The Mundanes think it's a serial killer with an exotic pet. We think it's a Shapeshifter or a Were. Our problem is that the first two victims aren't from either the Mundane or Magical communities above. We'd like to know if people are going missing down here.'

Sherriff Marnoch laughed. It was infectious, musical, and made the room feel lighter.

She's a Choral Halfer, I thought as we all laughed. Choral Elves were the land-based version of Sirens. Their voices, specifically their singing voice and laughing voice had a Magical effect. They were some of the most sought-after singers in the Magical world, although audiences had to make sure they had plenty of anti-Charm Icons when listening.

'People are always going missing down here, Agent.'

'Yes, I realise that it's probably a wild goose chase, but I have a suspicion that these victims were prominent, or important enough that their bodies be dumped above.'

'Is that how a serial killer works?'

'Not that I'm aware of, but I'm not an expert in such matters. I just hunt enemies of the Merlins. This killer has made themselves an enemy by leaving their victims in plain sight, and by killing a Merlin. The last victim. That, and the fact that they're clearly a Were or a Shapeshifter.'

'Like yourself. How are things above?' she turned as the door opened and the page entered with a tray of hot drinks for us. There were also plates, and a rather delicious-looking Victoria Sponge. We sat in companionable silence as the page served us before backing out of the room.

'Right now, they're fine. You know how people are, there's only been one victim from our community thus far. However, if we don't track the killer down before they kill another Merlin, or a member of the Community, I expect things are going to get bloody awful.'

'Well, I haven't heard anything. However, I'm more than happy to ask my Council members if they've heard of anything. Life down here can be ... challenging, but I don't like the idea of my people being hunted by a serial killer,' said Marnoch.

'Anyone spring to mind as a loose cannon? Anyone particularly killy?'

She leaned back, brow creased as she took a moment to think. I used the time to snag a couple of bites of the cake, looking over at Dawn to see how she was coping. On the walk to the Sherriff's office I'd asked her to just sit and observe. Not to speak unless directly addressed, and then to keep it short.

This was a fabulous opportunity for my apprentice to see how the great and powerful worked. It wouldn't hurt for her to be known by said great and powerful either. As some point she'd qualify as an Agent and would need to have friends in high places. Unlike me. I tended to piss off people in high places, but at least they knew me. And this meeting seemed to be going well. I decided to savour the moment.

'Two,' said Marnoch.

'Pardon?' I said, more than a bit nonplussed.

'I have two names. They're both Were, thick as thieves, and cold-blooded killers. Brutal too. Known to rend their victims limb-from-limb.'

That most certainly piqued my interest. I hadn't mentioned any details of the case, so unless Marnoch had someone working for the police on her payroll, it was unlikely she would have heard the details.

'Well, if you could give us those names and some descriptions, we'll go and say hello.'

Five minutes later, we had names, in-depth descriptions, and the best wishes of the Sherriff of the UnderCity. As well as a thinly veiled threat about how she looked forward to us returning the favour.