The sun had dipped below the horizon by the time Cerys and I emerged from Dr. Vance's house, the sky a bruised purple streaked with orange. The air felt heavy, charged with more than just the lingering magic from the lab below. Thorne had left a few minutes earlier, his suspicious glares promising future trouble.

"Well," Cerys said, breaking the tense silence, "that was certainly an illuminating little adventure."

I snorted, running a hand through my hair. "That's one word for it. 'Catastrophic' and 'career-ending' are a couple others that come to mind."

Cerys rolled her eyes, but I could see the concern beneath her usual mischievous expression. "Always so dramatic, Dex. We've faced worse."

"Have we?" I asked, my voice low. "Cerys, we just stole classified documents from a Warden investigation. Not to mention whatever the hell that was in the lab. And let's not forget our little interdimensional visitor."

She placed a hand on my arm, her touch grounding me. "I know. But think about what we've uncovered. The Conduit, Vance's research... this is big, Dex. Bigger than Warden protocols."

I sighed, knowing she was right but hating the position we were in. "Alright. So what's our next move?"

"I'll take the documents back to my shop," Cerys said, patting her bag where the stolen files were hidden. "I've got a few hiding spots even the Wardens don't know about. You head back to headquarters, make your report."

The knot in my stomach tightened. "And how much do I tell them?"

Cerys's expression turned serious. "Use your judgment. Tell them about Vance's research into quantum magic, the lab, even the interdimensional incident if you must. But the Conduit..."

"Stays between us," I finished. "For now, at least."

She nodded. "We need to understand what we're dealing with before we bring the Wardens into it. Something about this whole situation feels off."

I couldn't argue with that. Every instinct I had was screaming that we were stepping into something far more dangerous than our usual cases.

"Be careful," I said as Cerys turned to leave. "If Thorne decides to do some digging..."

She flashed me a grin, all fae mischief and deadly grace. "Please, darling. I've been running circles around Wardens since before your grandfather was in diapers. I'll be fine."

As I watched her walk away, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were at a turning point. Whatever came next, there'd be no going back.

With a heavy sigh, I turned towards Warden headquarters. Time to face the music – and hope the tune wasn't my swan song.

----

Cerys slipped into the Blackthorn Emporium through the back door, her steps silent despite the clutter of magical oddities strewn about. The shop seemed to sigh in welcome, the air shimmering with faint, multicolored motes of light that only appeared when she entered alone.

"Yes, yes, I'm back," she murmured to the empty air. "And we've got some new secrets to hide, my dears."

She made her way to the front of the shop, deftly navigating around stacks of ancient tomes and display cases filled with artifacts that defied description. The documents from Vance's lab felt heavy in her bag, their importance a tangible weight.

Cerys paused at the counter, her fingers trailing over the intricate inlaid wood. With a whispered word in a language long forgotten by most, a hidden compartment slid open. But instead of placing the documents inside, she hesitated.

"Too obvious," she mused. "If they come looking, that's the first place they'll check."

Her eyes scanned the shop, considering and discarding hiding spots. The hollow leg of an antique table? The false bottom of a Victorian music box? No, none of them felt right.

Finally, her gaze settled on an unassuming snow globe sitting on a high shelf. A smile tugged at her lips as she reached for it.

"Perfect," she breathed.

With a complex gesture and a few muttered words, the snow globe's glass became as insubstantial as mist. Cerys carefully inserted the rolled-up documents into the miniature winter scene. Another gesture, and the glass solidified once more, the papers now appearing to be part of the tiny landscape – just another snow-covered hill.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"There," she said, satisfied. "Hidden in plain sight. Even Dex wouldn't think to look there."

As she set the snow globe back on its shelf, the bell above the shop door chimed. Cerys tensed, her hand instinctively reaching for a charm tucked into her sleeve.

"We're closed," she called out, keeping her voice light despite her wariness.

"Are you ever truly closed to an old friend, Cerys?" came a rich, familiar voice.

Cerys relaxed, but only slightly. "Morrigan," she said, turning to face the newcomer. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The woman who entered was striking in an otherworldly way – tall, with hair as black as a raven's wing and eyes that seemed to shift color in the shop's dim light. She moved with a predator's grace, her gaze taking in every detail of the room.

"Can't an old friend simply drop by for a chat?" Morrigan asked, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

Cerys matched her smile, equally insincere. "Of course. But you never do anything without a reason, old friend."

Morrigan's laugh was like dark honey, sweet with an undercurrent of danger. "You know me too well. I heard whispers, Cerys. Whispers of something stirring. Something old awakening."

Cerys kept her expression neutral, even as her heart raced. "You know how gossip spreads in our circles. Half-truths and exaggerations, most likely."

"Perhaps," Morrigan conceded, her eyes lingering on the snow globe for just a moment too long. "But you've always had a knack for finding yourself at the center of interesting times. If you do hear anything... concrete, you'll let me know, won't you?"

"Of course," Cerys lied smoothly. "What are old friends for?"

As Morrigan left, the bell chiming in her wake, Cerys let out a long breath. She glanced at the snow globe, its secrets now seeming to pulse with an almost tangible energy.

"Well," she murmured to herself, "things just got a lot more complicated."

----

The Warden Headquarters loomed before me, a gleaming skyscraper in the heart of downtown Tampa. To the Sightless, it appeared to be just another corporate office building. But to those of us in the know, the shimmering wards and pulsing magical energy that surrounded it were as clear as day.

I stepped through the revolving doors, feeling the familiar tingle of protective spells washing over me. The lobby was a bustle of activity, Wardens of all specialties hurrying to and fro. I nodded to a few familiar faces as I made my way to the elevators.

"Council chambers," I told the elevator. It hummed in acknowledgment, whisking me upwards at a speed that would have made a normal elevator's cables snap.

The doors opened silently onto a long, marble-floored hallway. At the end stood a set of imposing double doors, inscribed with runes that shifted and changed as I watched. I took a deep breath, steeling myself, before pushing them open.

The Council chamber was a vast, circular room. Seven figures sat at a raised dais, their faces obscured by shadows despite the well-lit room. Magic, old and powerful, thrummed in the air.

"Warden Graves," a voice spoke from the central figure. "We understand you have a report on the disturbance at the Vance residence."

I stepped forward, my footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. "Yes, Councilor. We found evidence of advanced magical research, primarily focused on the intersection of quantum physics and thaumaturgical principles."

I went on to describe the lab, the equipment we'd found, and the incident with the interdimensional visitor. I carefully omitted any mention of the Conduit, the stolen documents, or Cerys's involvement beyond her role as a magical antiquities expert.

As I spoke, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was... off. The Council members remained unnaturally still, their reactions muted. When I finished, there was a long moment of silence.

Finally, the central figure spoke again. "Thank you for your thorough report, Warden Graves. However, we believe you may be... overestimating the significance of these findings."

I blinked, taken aback. "Overestimating? With all due respect, Councilor, we're talking about groundbreaking magical research and an interdimensional incursion. Surely that warrants further investigation?"

A different voice, sharp and dismissive, cut in. "Dr. Vance was a known eccentric with a history of pursuing fruitless theories. As for the supposed 'visitor,' we have no concrete evidence beyond your word."

I felt my temper rising but forced it down. "Councilor, I assure you, what we encountered was very real and potentially dangerous. If we don't pursue this—"

"Enough," the central figure interrupted. "Your concerns are noted, Warden Graves, but the Council has made its decision. This matter does not require further attention at this time."

I stood there, stunned. This wasn't just dismissive; it felt deliberate. As if they were intentionally shutting down the investigation.

"However," another voice added, almost as an afterthought, "we do have a new assignment for you. There have been reports of unusual magical signatures in the warehouse district. Minor disturbances, likely nothing serious, but it needs to be looked into."

I opened my mouth to protest but thought better of it. Something was clearly going on here, and pushing too hard might tip my hand.

"Understood," I said, keeping my voice neutral. "I'll begin my investigation immediately."

As I turned to leave, the central figure spoke once more. "Oh, and Warden Graves? In the future, please remember to follow proper protocols. Bringing in unauthorized civilians, even as consultants, is strictly against regulations."

I nodded stiffly, not trusting myself to speak. As the doors closed behind me, my mind raced. The Council's reaction was all wrong. They were hiding something, that much was clear. But what? And why?

One thing was certain: Cerys and I were on our own now. Whatever was going on with the Conduit, we couldn't count on the Wardens for help. In fact, I was starting to wonder if we might need to guard against them as well.

As I rode the elevator back down, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd just stepped into something much bigger and more dangerous than I'd initially thought. And in my line of work, that was saying something.