There were no bodies, down by the canals. Well, there were always bodies, but none that matched what he was looking for, unless she could transform herself into a middle-aged drunk, and he thought that was unlikely. Give ‘em a few more years for that one.
He had started asking for boys, too, having had a sudden moment of epiphany whilst in the school, but none of those had turned up either. It was as if she’d just flown away, and Greensleeves was starting to run out of leads.
A small part of his mind attempted to remind him that he wasn’t actually a private detective, but it was quickly dog-piled by the rest, beaten back into oblivion.
He had always fancied trying out a Change some time, going to a real good mage and seeing what they came up with, but it probably wouldn’t alter him much, he was already pretty much perfect, and on top of that, he was way too old for it.
It just wasn't the done thing, especially at his age. If everyone messed about with themselves like foreign children did then it would be chaos, nobody would know who was who!
The day was turning towards evening and the birds were kicking up quite a racket in the trees around them, as Greensleeves and Swiftlight sat on a bench, somewhere along the greenway back towards the waterfront. His faithful assistant was slouched, resting their elbows on their knees, head bowed.
He had lost his fancy jacket at some point, and the sun was shining with golden rays across his back, highlighting the fine fabric of his uniform and making the silvery threads shimmer in the light.
Greensleeves transferred the bottle he was holding to his other hand, and reaching out, laid his hand on their back, feeling the warmth of their skin and the heat of the sun through the fabric of the thin shirt.
“I’m delusional,” his Swiftbright's voice was muffled by his odd posture, but still clear, “but maybe we should try interviewing some of the students? They’ve gotta be close by somewhere, the school is pushing to reopen as soon as it can.”
This was a great idea, and Greensleeves was a little jealous he hadn’t thought of it himself, but credit where credit’s due.
“That’s a great idea.” He paused for a moment, “do we know where any of them are?”
-
Down at the most imaginatively named pub on the docks, 'The Dockyard', the two of them settled in, ordering a couple of cheap beers. This was one of the closest drinking establishments to the school, and was a known haunt for both teachers and students. Not many students, in the scheme of things, but teachers, oh yes.
He could see one now, sitting in the corner deep into their cups, outed by the gloomy cloud of misery that seemed to fill the air around them. They had some subtle changes about them, an elongated face, pointed ears and a thin layer of ginger-red fur across their body, but it wasn’t anything compared to what he'd seen on the sailors. Some of the things you saw down on the docks proper were wild.
With a nod to Swiftlight, he scooped up their drinks, and they headed towards interrogation central.
-
The teacher had been stoic at first, but they’d soon broken him. One good whisky, a couple of small drinks with little umbrellas in, a single olive on a toothpick, and he was all theirs.
He had been working at the school for nigh on ten years, he sobbed, teaching Growth and botany. To Grow, you had to understand plants, he said. You could introduce small changes which would be permanent down generations, but only if you truly knew what you were doing. He gestured with the olive on a toothpick, “Take this for example, a hundred years ago these trees would have had half the production, and the fruits would have been almost a deep black. Nowadays they had all sorts of colours to choose from. Red, white, magenta, all because of mages like me!”
He had hiccuped, and then eaten the olive, staring at the toothpick afterwards with empty eyes.
He had let out a choked sob at the sight of the drink with the little umbrella in, and had rambled for several minutes about how he could have gone into Growth full time. He could have grown these olives, instead he had chosen to grow olives in the form of children, shaping them into the mages he knew they could grow to be. One man could Change one olive tree, but many olives could Grow the world!
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The metaphors were a bit lost on both Greensleeves and Swiftlight, but they had gently patted him on the back, and bought him another drink.
He remembered the kid that had gone missing, he choked out, opening and closing the tiny parasol, she had been a bright young thing, but misguided. She had spoken up in class once and started a fight with another child, about how all schools of magic were just the same school, acting as if she could teach better than he could.
He had allowed it to play out, he still remembered how they had used to teach, but had gently reprimanded her after the class. He was the teacher, the one in charge, and she was here to learn. Things were different now, and they didn't want another death on their hands. Plus, if they didn’t do as the board of directors directed, then there would be no direction, the school would be closed, and then nobody would learn anything.
She had behaved much better after that, but had sadly stopped staying late or turning up for the extra-curricular lessons. He had been disappointed, but resigned, she probably picked up some other club instead.
At this point another teacher appeared in the doorway to the pub, an older figure with striking eyes and an austere outfit. Their hair was tightly tied back, their face as severe as their dress, and Swiftlight had taken an instant, drunken dislike to them.
A few drinks down and they had insisted the missing child was a boy, which the botany teacher seemed to disagree with. The argument went on for several minutes before the first punch was thrown.
-
Out on the edge of the docks, their legs above the water, all staring off into the dark harbour, the four of them nursed their wounds. Olives, as Greensleeves had internally named him, was nursing what would be by the morning a very impressive black eye. On the other side Austerity was examining a rip in her doublet, apparently attempting to convince the fibres to grow back together. The hole was getting worse by the moment, but he wasn’t going to point it out. Beside him, Swiftlight was muttering something about "never drinking again", and with him sandwiched in the middle they looked quite a sorry lot.
Before them ships bobbed on the waves, dark shapes in the distance, only the odd flash of light or glint of metal announcing their presence. Somewhere above seabirds shouted, and the air smelt of shit and salt. It was a strange place to end up, between the darkness of the sea and the light and atmosphere of the bar behind them, and for a moment they all simply sat in silence.
Finally, Austerity spoke, letting the hole in her jacket go and staring instead out over the dark water, “they would have fitted in well, ten years ago.”
Greensleeves glanced over, but her face was shrouded in shadow, the lights all behind them.
“Kid was a real talent. He… She? I suppose…”
There was a moment of silence here, of introspection, before the teacher carried on.
“She could have changed the world.”
On the other side of the row, one hand over his bruised eye, Olives nodded. “Wasn’t my area, but even I could see the sparks. Wish she’d spoken up in lessons more.”
They sat like that for a time, before finally Austerity sighed, swinging her legs up from the edge of the dock and clambering slowly to her feet. She spoke in soft tones as she dusted off her skirt, “We should have done better. Everything these past two years has just been such… Utter horse-swill.”
Olives nodded, turning to look up at them, one hand still over his eye. Somewhere in the distance, from one of the bigger ships, two bells rang out.
“Listen,” Austerity’s voice was deep above him, “we know what happened to her, and she’s fine.”
She dusted off the back of her skirt and tugged down on her drink-stained sleeves. “This happens every now and again, we had the old rules for a reason, just… Just tell the investigators that you found nothing, or that she snuck away, onto one of the ships.”
Behind them the pub started to kick out, sailors needing to be back to their ships for the next watch, people who needed to be at work in the mornings, all mixed together into one noisy mass. With a sigh, Olives also clambered to his feet, accepting a helping hand from Austerity. “She’s fine. She's not dead! We know what happened, and we’re keeping track of where she is.”
He glanced at the doublet and sighed, running his free hand over it, leaving behind a neatly stitched line in the fabric. The he removed the hand from his eye, the swelling already reduced, his face looking almost normal in the shadows. He seemed to square his shoulders, taking one last glance out across the sea.
Then with a shared nod, the two of them turned, and headed back to their school.
-
Greensleeves kept looking, but found nothing in his investigations. Swiftlight backed him up, when they were both called back to the hall several days later. It was determined, he read later in the papers, that the lost child had probably snuck onto a ship as a cabin kid and was now long gone.
The next page had held reports of a giant white bird, seen flying across the city more than a month before. Hunters had been sent out to track it, but it had disappeared over the woods and nobody had seen it since. Last spotted headed east, there were rewards for it’s capture.
As he looked between the two articles, he wondered. But, he reflected, closing the paper and folding it neatly away, he wasn’t actually a private detective.