The captain of the Lottie Guard, Ottavio Calis, led us through the dimly lit, deserted streets of Lottie. A calm silence was around us, and all we could hear was the soft clopping of our horses’ hooves on the stones. The warm glow of lanterns and light-beads cast long shadows along the paths.

He spoke very little as we went on, saying that the guard barracks were only a few city blocks away.

“I heard you’ve had a long journey, yet you don’t seem tired at all,” said captain Calis with a noticeable hint of amazement in his voice. “Is that some secret mage spell or something? I wish I could do that. I’m tired all the time now.”

He yawned into his sleeve.

“I apologize for my reticence,” said captain Calis, his steps mirroring his weariness. “It’s been a long day and my mind’s a foggy bog. If it’s acceptable to you, could we discuss your wishes for me and my guards in the morning?”

I saw Iskander’s and Jaxine’s faces scrunched up in disappointment. They seemed ready to comb every yard of the city at this very moment.

“Of course,” said Florencia quickly. “That’s more than fair.”

The captain fell silent for some time, and then he said: “Actually, Viola should still be at her desk, or sleeping somewhere in her office. I’ll bring you to her, given that you’re not tired.”

“Viola?” I asked.

“Viola Grimaldi is my chief detective with the, what we’ve come to call the mania crimes, though she’d disagree with the name. Her knowledge surpasses mine, but she keeps me informed about her latest theories and the most important facts. Lately… she’s been saying that something strange is going on, and she can’t explain it.”

Florencia and I exchanged looks.

“We need to look into that now. We can’t wait until morning,” she told me, and I agreed.

“Captain Calis, could you please bring us to Viola Grimaldi?” I asked the captain, and he grunted affirmatively.

The road we followed was straight and wide, its smooth stones worn from the traces of countless feet that had walked upon it over the centuries. Every hundred yards, iron lampposts cast a dim, flickering orange light that lit up our path through the night.

Before that road would’ve taken us to the large port, Pod Vecco, it turned left and we kept going for a bit.

“The barracks are close. Did you know that the building is one of the oldest buildings in the city?” asked captain Calis, making small talk through his sleepiness.

“Was it built when Fiango Lott was still alive?” asked Jace, his eyes wide as he was taking in all the details of the City of Flowers.

The unwanted question made the captain sigh, but he answered politely: “We don’t know, but many believe so. The castle on the coast, Casto Pierra, is older and most think commander Lott would’ve lived there. But we don’t know for sure.”

“Casto Pierra,” said Jace again. “That is the castle by the coast where the Lord Mayor and his family live?”

The captain nodded and rubbed his eyes again.

“Let the poor man be,” I told Jace. “This is not the time.”

Jace acknowledged that he misjudged the time for his questions.

Soon we saw a tall and thick building with narrow windows that lacked the ornate decorations so commonly found in the city. The walls were made from a blend of beige and red stones and had a skillfully wrought-iron fence that encircled the facade. Above the entrance, three flags swayed in the soft wind—of the Lienor Royal coat-of-arms, beside it the heraldry of Lottie, and finally, the emblem of the Lottie Guards.

To our right were the stables, built low and wide, with a slanted roof with bright orange clay tiles. Dark green vines climbed the supporting beams, reaching onto the roof itself. And in front of that was a small, circular patch of greenery. We put our horses away, and two young stableboys woke from their sleep in the fodder and tended to them.

We approached the main entrance, where the four guards saluted their commander.

Despite the rather bland and uninspiring exterior, at least to Lottie’s standards, the interior of the barracks was a pleasant surprise. It was homely, warm and inviting. The prisoners probably are not brought here. Under our heels was a well-worn hardwood floor, covered in a thick and bright carpet, and the hallways and rooms were lit by lanterns, candles, or light-beads.

It was very quiet inside, with only a whisper here and there. All I could hear was the occasional scratch of feather quills on rough paper that stopped when the captain passed. The guard writing the report got up, saluted, then sat back down and kept writing.

Captain Calis led us through the hallways. My gaze was drawn upward to the high, arched ceilings that were adorned with faded and worn flower motifs intricately painted onto the stone. Every corner of the hallways and rooms had thick beams, similarly decorated.

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For a moment, I considered expressing my admiration over how pleasant the barracks were from the inside, but as the old captain struggled to stay awake, I thought better of it. The long day had taken its toll on him, and engaging in any superfluous exchange of words would likely only annoy the man.

“Captain, before you leave us in the hands of the capable investigator, Grimaldi, I have a question. Does the name Zekt rouse any recollection?”

The captain furrows his brows, deep in thought, and then wearily rubbed his tired eyes as if to coax some memory of it.

“Can’t say that it does,” he said apologetically. “But, just in case, please ask me again tomorrow. Maybe my memory would’ve caught up with me by then.”

I sensed a flash of annoyance in Florencia. Her expression remained a casual smile.

“This kind of wrinkled relic should not be in a leadership position!” she said hotly.

“Perhaps he’s very experienced?” I replied.

“Did you get that impression?”

“Not really,” I had to admit. “I sense… that he’s rather mediocre.”

“Mediocre? He’s an old blunt,” said Florencia and caught her trail of thought before it unfolded even more. “Sorry. I’m alright now.”

Captain Calis continued guiding us around a corner until we reached a door, which he knocked on. From inside, we heard faint mumbling, and without waiting for a reply, the captain entered the room.

Upon stepping into the room, I saw four sturdy desks, made from dark wood, arranged neatly around a circular carpet of brown and green. From the ceiling hung a magnificent chandelier with what seemed like hundreds of light-beads and small mirrors. The faint smell of smoke and sweetened drink lingered in the air. A single, narrow window was closed, with a curtain pulled in front of it.

In the corner, to my left, a woman slept peacefully on a wooden bench, her body covered in a dark cloak. She groaned and yawned and got up and stretched her back and arms. This was Viola Grimaldi, and she was, perhaps, some years younger than Florencia.

But the first thing I noticed about her was that she had coursing through her veins and mind, some magical powers, though I could not tell to what extent.

Viola wore dark breeches and light-brown leather boots that showed signs of extensive use, but polished enough to look decent. She had a knee-length black surcoat, embroidered with the Lottie Guard heraldry, and a small, thumb-sized silver pin on her breast. Maybe the badge of her office?

She straightened her back and saluted captain Calis.

“Viola, we have guests all the way from Caffria. They are important agents from the Honorable Rainier Pitties himself and mages from Cappesand on top of that.”

I heard a tinge of sourness as he said that. So far, I’ve seen that the Cappesand name usually evokes negative emotions among those who are not magically gifted.

The captain continued: “I don’t know what exactly their mission is, but they told me they are looking for an extremely dangerous dark sorcerer. I know you deal with those freakish cases, so I brought them to you. So please, Viola, host these special guests of the Lord Mayor and provide them with anything they may ask. That is a direct order from the Lord Mayor. Because of your shared interest, I’m sure you have plenty to talk about. When there’s any development I should know about, let me know.”

Before Viola could reply, captain Calis spun his heels, quickly for a man of his age, pulled his dark cloak around him, and left the room without a single word.

Chief investigator Viola Grimaldi stood still, clearly taken aback by the unexpected arrival of her captain and our group in the middle of the night. It might’ve been an hour past midnight. With a simple gesture, she tucked her raven-black hair behind her ears, while her hesitant gaze swept across the five of us. Even from this distance, I noticed she had a sheen of deep purple in her eyes, something I had never seen before.

“Would you like a marmalade drink?” she asked with a mild voice that sounded much like the melody of some enchanting song. She had contrasting features—a commoner’s ease in her manners, and yet an unmistakable hidden potential that I sensed lurking beneath the surface.

We all politely accepted the drink, and Viola put some thin pieces of firewood into the tall and narrow stove. Soon the kettle began to whistle as the water boiled. She took some clean clay mugs and filled them with water and some mandarin marmalade. As she was doing this, Florencia introduced everyone to her.

“So you are, um, mages working for the Royal Advisor Rainier Pitties?” asked Viola Grimaldi. “What brings you to Lottie, and how can I help?”

She took a seat in a rather formal and composed manner, crossing her legs and cradling her warm drink.

“Some of us were with the Cappesand Academy until recently, but now we serve the Crown directly,” said Florencia. “We are in Lottie with a task from the Royal Advisor. Your captain was too tired to be of use, so can you please tell me what you do?”

“Well, my department investigates what we call mania crimes, but I think the name for it is wrong,” said Viola, her expression careful and looking down at her steaming cup. Being this close, she had, indeed, a purple reflection in her eyes, though her eyes were black. “My department gets the bad cases, you know? The ones where people have gone missing and end up dead, usually in some, um, horrible way. Captain Calis said he never saw anything like this when he was young, so he doesn’t really know what to do. My predecessor thought that when he became the next captain, he would expand the department, but that didn’t happen... Anyway, I think in the crimes my department has to solve, dark magic is involved. But I don’t know how or why. Well, I know that dark magic sometimes causes some kind of mania, but I haven’t gotten too far with that line of investigation. There’s just nobody here that knows anything about it. I’ve also talked with Master Rosalda from the Temple, but she is as stumped as I am.”

“You’re sensitive yourself, are you not?” I asked, interrupting Florencia’s next question that she had already prepared. She was only mildly annoyed.

“I, uh—” Viola stuttered.

“It would’ve been better to keep that to ourselves,” said Florencia.

“We can both sense she has potential,” I told Florencia. “I believe we can show our hand a bit more.”

Florencia agreed.

Viola had not caught our telepathic exchange, but Jace had, and was now looking on with keen interest, but kept himself in the background.

“Viola, we can sense that you’re sensitive to the magical currents of the world,” I told her. “I would guess this is why you are naturally better at your job than the others that you work with. Am I correct?”

Viola hesitantly agreed though she seemed uncomfortable in bragging.

I continued: “It’s alright, Viola. We mean no harm or ill intent. We simply could sense it on you the moment we entered the room. In your opinion, how bad is the situation with those dark sorcerers?”

Viola was stunned for some time, her expression betraying a mixture of surprise and contemplation. It was evident that she was taken aback by our acknowledgment of her powers. I would’ve guessed that nobody in her department knew or even had any suspicion she had them save, maybe, from Master Rosalda from the Temple.