CHAPTER 112

What! The thought echoed in Tom’s head. They weren’t under attack. Anger, relief, fury all flashed through him before Michael’s words fully registered. Adrenaline left his system, and he felt shaky.

Fuck!

Another death.

With a moment of concentration, the barrier between him and the rest of the room fell away in a clatter of stone and he pushed himself straight out of bed. The manoeuvre should have been difficult, but his super high agility made it easy. That and the level of Remote Earth Manipulation that allowed him to crumble the rock near instantly rather than a moment of focused channelling. He landed on the ground, his spear appeared in one hand and a rock in the other, just in case.

There was no threat. Both Michael and Sven were at the stairs both hands held up in the air in the usual posture to say I don’t have any weapons and I’m not a threat.

There had been a murder and the stupidity of his decision to fully soundproof his sleep quarters hit Tom. They had to resort to breaking in, and that could have ended badly. “Time?”

“About half an hour before your shift starts.”

He nodded dumbly his brain still catching up with what was happening. Another murder. It was, in a word, infuriating. He looked up in alarm. “Was it one of us?”

“No,” Michael pointed upwards. “In the prison.”

“They killed one of their fellows.” Sven declared. “Dumb. Just further painting a target on all their backs. If it wasn’t a death sentence and if every life didn’t matter so much.” He shook his head angrily. “I would kick them all out.”

“We don’t know what happened.” Michael said darkly.

Everlyn emerged and there was no sign of her bow. “Why did you break the wall like that?” She asked quietly.

Sven looked sheepish. “We were yelling and not getting a response.”

She shot Tom a pointed look before focusing on Sven. “You have earth magic.”

“Only for combat.” Sven said defensively. “I don’t have any generic earth magic skills, but I’ll get Remote Earth Manipulation when I can afford it.” He looked sourly at Tom. “I’m not lucky like this dude. And the only other option was Keikain, and the hammer was faster.”

“Told you the sound proofing was good.” Tom quipped.

She looked at him like he was an idiot. He had the grace to look embarrassed. Now was not the time to joke around especially when the stupidity of the decision to put themselves into an uncontactable bubble was obvious to everyone. What would have happened if there had been a major attack?

Everlyn pointedly pushed his spear tip down. “Who?”

Tom absorbed his spear and rock his embarrassment increasing further. He was joking around when someone had died and he hadn’t even bothered to find out who.

“Reilly.”

Tom was looking at Everlyn at the time and he saw her head tightened.

“Fuck.” She cursed.

“Yes.” Sven agreed. “Heartless bastard. Everyone loved Reilly.” Sven looked like he wanted to break down and cry. He was that emotional a haunted look in his eyes.

“Which kills the theory that the killer has been targeting people who were not liked.” Michael observed. “And it was not like she was incompetent.”

“Who was she?” Tom asked. Then winced at the looks he got.

Michael sighed. “It’s okay Tom. Out of all of us, you’re the one who has been working the hardest. She was a leather worker. African, with braided hairs.”

Tom froze. He recognised that description. “Always laughing?”

Michael nodded tightly. “Yep.”

“Who would kill her?” Tom asked in disbelief. “I feel sick.” Tom sat down abruptly on the bed. His mind running at cheetah speed while thinking about that poor girl. When it had been Jeffrey or Tiny, well, the murders had been academic to him. A cute problem to solve at his leisure without consequences. But Reilly, even if he had not known her name he knew her.

Everlyn’s hand was on his shoulder. She seemed to be coping better than he was. “We should both check the crime scene.”

“That’s why we woke you,” Michael agreed, while Sven nodded vigorously. “Everyone’s up. You’re going to be last to emerge.”

With a worried look at Everlyn, she looked like she was going to be sick; they climbed the stairs together. The stone door that he had put up to protect them from the rest of the camp in the middle of the stairs had been blown apart. Shards of rock slab had embedded into the stairwell.

Tom stopped. “How did this happen?”

Sven pulled a pendent on a chain from under his armour. “This lets me communicate with Keikain. He told me what happened. So I woke the others and blew through the door to get out. What?” Sven responded defensively to Tom’s look. “It’s a door breaking spell that is stronger against stone. I can’t control the force, hence I couldn’t use it to get through to you.”

“Yes, that was probably a sensible decision,” Tom acknowledged, looking aghast at a shard of rock larger than a football that was embedded in the stairs. If Sven could break his defenses that easily, Tom definitely needed to upgrade them.

“I think your sound proofing was a little too good.” Everlyn told him. “This was not quiet.”

Tom completely agreed.

Michael lead them straight over to the stone prison that had been constructed for the potential murderers. A host of people were gathered outside of it and the remaining suspects knelt with their head on their hands along the stone wall under careful watch. It was the standard position you put people into on Earth to ensure that they couldn’t easily escape. Here on Existentia he doubted it was still effective. Hands behind your head or back might delay a trained warrior for a split second, but it only took a guard to be distracted for a moment for that to not matter. And that was before you even factored magic into the equation.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“Michael,” Everlyn sped up to grab Michael’s sleeve. “I don’t understand how this happened. I thought they were setting internal guards.”

“They were knocked unconscious.”

“Was Reilly asleep?”

“She was on shift when the murders occurred.”

Bob stood in front of the entrance, holding a hand up. “No entry includes you, Michael.”

“I know I was escorting these, two.”

Bob nodded toward them. “Go for it, but it’s the same as the previous murders.”

Tom cut off a biting response Bob after all did not know about the ritual that had briefly existed last time. “Do we have an estimate when it occurred?”

Bob shrugged. “Mr Phillips thinks he saw movement in his peripheral vision toward the end of his shift, which would put the murder at about three hours old, but the body was only found twenty minutes ago.”

Everlyn’s eyes narrowed at Bob. “You think Frank did it.”

“Mr Phillips,” Bob corrected in a formal tone. “Is one of many suspects. Having said that his story to my mind doesn’t add up. Let me show you.” Bob led them in. Next to him Everlyn gasped and shied away.

Tom looked toward what had startled her. Yep, it was Reilly. Her face drawn, all the fluid sucked out of her and a look of pain across her features. He pulsed Remote Earth Manipulation hopefully. It was futile the ground under the body did not have a ritual recorded. It was perfectly smooth like last time.

“If you are not up for it miss,” Bob said gently.

“I’ll be okay.” Her hand squeezed his in a death grip. “It’s just she was a friend.”

“That’s what’s hits me hardest too.” Bob admitted. “Investigating people I knew in real life. Anyway.” He cleared his throat. “Mr Phillips was standing here.” Bob moved to show them shoulders pressed up against one of the walls Keikain had just constructed, facing the open sleeping area. “He claims he saw something out of the corner of his right eye.” Bob rotated, and he was facing straight at the fortified wall they had built to surround their compound. “Doesn’t make sense. We all know how solid the exterior walls are.”

Tom knew from the effort of transporting the rocks used to construct it that the walls were very solid. Rather than studying the stonework he looked up and then down. Then around the shelter that Keikain and presumably others had built. Unlike the healers’ tent, there were no easy entry ways. It had been built with security in mind with air holes the size of a coin left where the wall hit the roof. There was no sneaking and even with the door open they only had visibility because of the magic lights.

“And no one went through the door?” Tom asked.

“Definitely. Exterior guards had it in their sight the entire night.”

The little prison they had put the suspects in was not a nice place and reminded Tom of an above ground old style prison dungeon. The sort he would expect in a medieval castle. He ran his finger over the area that the Frank had suggested might have been the point of entry.

“Already checked.” Bob told him. “There’s nothing there. It’s why I don’t trust Mr Phillips.”

“And he got attacked?” Tom asked.

Bob nodded, then shrugged. “He was inflicted with a sleep spell the same as we all were when Tiny was killed.”

“Well, at least it’s not a new power.” Tom muttered.

“Apart from being able to walk through walls?” Everlyn suggested.

“Might as well just make it a teleportation ability.” Bob grumbled.

A thought occurred to Tom. “When you say the same spell as Tiny are you sure?”

Bob looked at him like he was stupid. “Mr Phillips was found knocked out the same as with Tiny’s murder.”

“So no one independently verified.”

“Mr Philips’ unconscious state unwound about five minutes after the body was discovered. That means what ever spell or energy that knocked him out was no longer available to test. Or at least that’s his claim.”

“Did we check?”

“We did. Andros examined Mr Phillips. The sleep spell had completed vanished by the time the examination had occurred. However, usually these killer MOs don’t change. If Mr Phillips is not the murderer, then it’ll be the same attack.”

Tom nodded. Bob was probably right, but he objected to probably being confused with facts. Especially with four dead now and the escalating numbers. What did this mean for this settlement? Did this mean they abandoned it and all the benefits that went with repelling each wave?

Tom ran his fingers over the wall. The rock was well shaped and the joining that had been done was impressive. He could barely tell where the rocks were.

“Anything?”

He extended his focus into the rock, but as far as he could tell, it was rock. Solid uniform rock. Tom glanced at Everlyn and shook his head. “You?”

“There’s a bit of extra dust,” she nodded toward the corner. “The entire wall is too clean.” She waved both at the spot Mr Phillips had indicated and then across the entire side. “None of that area is dusty.”

“Which makes the dust a clue?”

“Yep.”

Tom knelt down and examined it with both his physical and magical senses. “It’s crumbled mud.” He dug a nail into the mud wall next to him and compared the two samples. “From the wall or roof.”

“Something?”

“Maybe,” he conceded. “Or possibly just an artefact of how Keikain constructed these walls.”

“We should check the body.”

“Sure, but I can confirm that fate is screwed around here. Now that I know what I’m looking for all the murderers have felt the same.”

They approached the body. Everlyn pointed. “It’s the fine soil this time. Which makes Tiny the only aberration. It makes me wonder why that one was different.”

Tom shook his head. “I think that’s a rabbit hole. I’m sure it will all make sense when it’s too late.”

Everlyn shook her head. “You’ve read too many murder mysteries.”

“What? I haven’t read any murder mysteries.”

“Really? None? Ever?”

“When I was young, like fourteen, I read some Agatha Christie because I was really bored and that was the only thing at home I hadn’t read, but I can’t remember the details.”

“She was a talented author. Though I’m not sure our skills are on par with her detectives.”

“But we have magic.” Tom was pacing around the body, measuring fate with each step.

“You’ve got a look about you. An extra clue?”

“I don’t know.” Tom admitted. “It’s weird. Fate is always disturbed, but the murder sites have always had two loci’s of extra weakness opposite each other. Here is different. It has three in an equilateral triangle. The earlier ones only had two.”

“All of them?” Bob asked.

“Yes.” Tom answered. “All the previous ones had two. This one’s distinct.”

“I don’t like the idea of the pattern changing.” Everlyn said darkly.

“Especially when this murder was so close to the last one.” Tom agreed. “I’m just trying to work out why it might change. It can’t be location because Mac died close by. Astronomical conditions...”

Everlyn twitched. “Escalation? Next stage of a summoning?”

“That’s problematic, especially if it means they’re speeding up.”

Bob cleared his throat. “You need to keep this new information secret. We don’t want to tip the killer off.”

“We know.” Everlyn told him. “The fact we’re seen as part of the investigation makes anything we say have more weight.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m worried,” Tom admitted. “It feels the fate disturbance today was higher.”

“We need to do our thing tonight.” Everlyn said.

“What thing?”

They both turned to look at Bob and then looked at each other each summing up how to answer. “We’re going to use fate to see if it can help us find anything to catch the killer.” Everlyn told him.

Bob’s face crinkled up. “It won’t do that.”

Tom shrugged and gritted his teeth. He reckoned that about a third of the people in his group refused to acknowledge Fate’s value. “Probably, but we might as well try. It could help one of us have an epiphany.”

“You guys throw your darts against the wall. While you do that, I’ll rely on the old fashion methods. I’ll crack it with solid detective work. We’re making progress. I’m already down to a handful of suspects.”

Tom bit back on his cutting comment. He was sure that the murderers were not amongst the obvious suspects. That was Bob’s only true line of inquiry. Pop that bubble and he had nothing. “I hope you do.” He told the ex-police officer honestly, even if he privately thought it had no chance of happening.

“They’ll make a mistake.” Bob nodded to himself firmly. “They always make a mistake.”