“If you were anyone else, I’d have thrown you in one of the cells downstairs for a few days after this stunt.” Renda WindyRiver said, giving Nanomi a dressing down. They were in Renda’s rooms at headquarters. Nanomi was standing at attention in front of Renda, who was seated at a large wooden desk in the center of the room. Shelves stuffed with parchments and scrolls lined the wall behind, and a spartan sleeping space was visible through a doorway. “Something also doesn’t smell right.” She said with a snort. “Sayta’s injuries don’t line up with the amount of blood that was caked on her clothes. And I don’t care how good of a fighter you are, no one comes out five versus one without a scratch. What’s going on Nanomi?”
“I can explain, but if you could tell me a bit about what you learned at the Lyceum today some of it might make more sense.” Nanomi said.
Renda gave her a long hard look. “Again, if you were anyone else…” She let the sentence hang. “Fine. That lab was some Sorcerer’s from a couple centuries back. A lot of the records are missing, apparently. That’s why they didn’t know it was there until they broke down the wall. There was a ton of magical material, or should I say formerly magical material. The working theory is that the Sorcerer was crafting magic items and that the creature was some sort of guard dog construct that got left behind and then ran out of juice.” Renda seemed to be annoyed at the dearth of concrete information.
“Her name was Myca Bramblebum.” Nanomi said. “She was a refiner of magical materials and was unwillingly working for Santerfinks, who killed her when she outlived her usefulness.”
“Where did you get this information?” Renda asked, eyes narrowing.
Nanomi ignored the question and continued. “Myca was a Phae Goblin. Phae, as in hyphae, as in the tendrils of a fungus. This is probably common knowledge to some, but I did not know that Goblins have fungi living within them symbiotically, until yesterday.”
Renda stood up and spoke with more anger. “Where did you get this information?”
“Straight from the source.” Nanomi replied. “Myca, can you introduce yourself to my Supervisor, Renda WindyRiver?” She asked as she held her hand out.
Nanomi’s palm began bulging, and Renda drew back as a face grew quickly from the mass. “Greetings, Supervisor WindyRiver.” Myca said after she had formed her head resting in Nanomi’s hand. “That was my lab, and I was the creature. I’m sorry for hurting those people by the way.” She quickly added.
“What in Lontoh’s warts is going on?” Renda asked, unable to pull her eyes away.
“Myca and I have come to an arrangement. When she was killed, she was able to shunt her…self, essence, soul…into the fungi that were a part of her body. That fungi needed a host, and they were drawn to me after I touched Myca’s mind with Detect Thoughts.” Nanomi explained.
“And for the low low price of protecting my now boneless and formless self, I share some of my power with her. And she also has access to my bountiful knowledge base.” Myca said with all the gusto of a snake oil salesman.
“When Sayta’s Send came through, I knew none of you could make it to her in time. She would be dead without Myca’s assistance.” Nanomi nodded towards Myca’s form. “Through her, I was able to Cure Wounds and stabilize Sayta. She also provided some novel combat capabilities, which allowed me to dispatch the Santerfinks thugs that were coming to finish Sayta off.”
Renda flopped down, clearly trying to process everything. “Well, it's one of the strangest things I’ve ever heard, but I owe you my thanks for saving one of my guards. Thank you Myca.” Renda said, looking at the head resting in Nanomi’s hand. “I guess that wraps up the incident at the Lyceum, as well as your behavior the last day and a half. Now if you’ll excuse me.” She said, levering herself out of the chair. “I’ve got to go brief beta team. We’ve got a suspicious death of Councillor Numegan’s daughter that we need to investigate.”
“I wasn’t aware he had a daughter.” Nanomi said.
“Well, that’s the thing. His wife has not given him a daughter, but his former mistress apparently did.” Renda said delicately. “Dietmo’s fond of the girl, but couldn’t let knowledge of her get out, so he looked for discrete ways to take care of her and her mother. He found out she had taken up painting, and he thought this would be a great way to send her some money with no one else the wiser. He buys some fine art, his illegitimate child is afforded a comfortable life, it’s a win-win scenario.”
“You seem to know a lot about this for supposedly being about a secret love child.” Nanomi observed.
Renda sat back down. “I guess beta team can wait a few minutes. Dietmo is one of our strongest supporters on the Council. I was aware of the girl before this.” Renda admitted. “He knew I was at the Lyceum today, and stopped by just before we left and asked for a private meeting. He had sent his personal secretary over to meet with the girl to commission some pieces, and they found her dead. And not just dead, but old and shriveled. Like she was ninety years old instead of the twenty-four she should be. They weren’t even sure it was her at first, but she was wearing a pendant Dietmo had given her as a child.”
Nanomi had a sinking feeling in her stomach, as if the bottom had just been let out. Myca was having the same thought, turning her head to stare right at the face of her host. “Was her name Vika?” Nanomi asked, hoping that both her and Myca’s intuition was wrong.
A pregnant silence filled the stone walled room. “How did you know that?” Renda asked.
“You need to give beta team different patrols tonight.” Nanomi said urgently. “Keep this between the three of us.” A brief look of confusion appeared on Renda’s face, but vanished once she remembered who the third person was. “Trust me Renda. We’ll go check this out tonight, together.”
“Ok, but I need to know everything that you two have been sharing. Be back in a few minutes.” She left the room and closed the door behind her.
“Do you have any idea what could cause a young woman to look middle aged in the mid morning and elderly by the same afternoon?” Nanomi asked Myca.
“A cursed item. A Life Transference spell? Vampires?” Myca sputtered. “There’s probably a dozen different ways that could happen I could come up with, in descending order of feasibility.”
“What about your gesso? She said the effort needed to make one of these paintings was exhausting. That she had never felt so drained.” Nanomi was animated. “There’s no such thing as coincidences.”
“Maybe?” Myca conceded. “But I painted dozens, hundreds, of canvases until I perfected it. Sure it was a lot of mental effort, but I wasn’t sprouting grey hairs and wrinkles.”
Nanomi frowned. “We’re missing something. Maybe you were killed before it had a chance to affect you. You said you only had one success.” She suggested. “Vika had completed two. If these paintings are killing people, we need to figure out how.”
“Fine. I’m going to withdraw. All this manifesting and talking is giving me a headache.” Myca said as her head began to deflate and disappear.
Renda returned a moment later. “Alright, spill the mead.” She said.
“As I said earlier, Myca was working on something before her death. Paintings where the picture moves.” Nanomi explained.
“Wait, you mean the sort of ones that just started showing up a few weeks back?” Renda asked. “And Myca developed the technique a couple hundred years ago?”
“Yes, and yes.” Nanomi confirmed. “Her business partner, a Hand in Santerfinks, had her killed, but apparently couldn’t cash in on the idea. Our assumption is that he was unable to find Myca’s hidden research notes and was disposed of by his superiors for his failure. Her lab was likely purposefully hidden to sweep the situation under the rug by the Lyceum.”
“And how did you figure all this out?” Renda asked.
“In an effort to learn about each, and after finding out where Myca’s specialities lay, I asked her what sort of uses HornedTreeWeasels had.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“No.” Renda said in disbelief.
“Yes.” Nanomi confirmed. “The timing is what first tipped me off. Myca developed the process to create those paintings using HornedTreeWeasel bone marrow. Our theory is that someone in the Lyceum learned of what Myca had been researching and set the supposed renovations in motion to find her lab.” Nanomi said. “The HornedTreeWeasels being smuggled in lines up with that. I also visited a contact of mine, Leve Rudine, to ask about the art scene. He showed me one of Vika’s paintings, and I asked him to have her stop by here to talk with us.”
“What time was that?” Renda asked.
“Mid morning, just before Sayta’s Send actually. She took out a loan from Arric Erlanson to buy the prepared canvases, which is another Santerfinks connection. We both also thought Vika looked older than her mannerisms suggested, but like mid forties old, not nineties old.”
Renda snorted. “Easy for you to say.”
“Tenkans live a bit longer than most.” Nanomi said. “I’ve still got a few decades left in me. I’ll probably just retire when you do. I won’t give them a chance to foist your job onto me.”
“Do either of you know what may have caused Vika’s unnatural aging and death?” Renda said over her shoulder as she went towards her sleeping chamber.
Not wanting to invade Renda’s personal space, Nanomi stayed in the main room, but raised her voice to respond. “Nothing concrete. But the confluence of all this would suggest it has something to do with the paintings.”
Renda came back into the room, tying a hefty pouch to her belt. “I’ve got beta team in two groups of three instead of the normal pairs with orders to keep their eyes peeled. With the attack on Sayta, everyone is going in trios or better for the next week. But you and I, we’ve got to pay a visit to Roark.”
“I thought the worshiper of Death made you uneasy?” Nanomi asked.
“He does. But unless one of the new tricks you’ve learned is Speak with Dead…?” Renda let the question hang.
A mouth appeared on the back of Nanomi’s hand. “No. While some of my spells do have divine flavor thanks to Rekkul, I mainly specialized in evocation and transmutation, not necromancy.” Myca said, then the mouth sank back into Nanomi’s body.
“Then hopefully we will be able to purchase Roark’s services tonight.” Renda finished, patting the pouch on her belt. “Let’s go, tie that cloak, hood up.” She said, doing the same to her garments then leaving the room with Nanomi in tow.
Nanomi knew the first destination this evening, but not the second. “Where did Vika live?” She asked Renda.
“In a loft above a clothing store on the east side of the business district.” Renda replied. “Dietmo’s secretary is staying with the body until we get there.”
“At least we don’t have to go far once we visit the graveyard.”
They left headquarters and joined the crowded streets, heading north. The fall equinox was in two days time, on Joolushko’s 1st, and farmers had been bringing in their wares for several days in anticipation for the harvest festival. In a normal year, the city guard would have been patrolling around those areas of increased activity, but the smuggling at the docks had been taking an owlbear’s share of their attention of late.
The sun was beginning to set as they reached the graveyard and the small temple to Goot, the Halfling Sliver. The area was once the outskirts of the city, but buildings had been slowly encroaching towards the short stone walled grounds for years. Renda was making her way to the temple, but Nanomi tapped her shoulder and pointed to a tall figure in the graveyard, walking toward them, carrying a shovel. Renda lowered her hood and waved to gain his attention, and Nanomi did likewise. He waved back and continued his course until he was standing on the other side of the waist high wall from them.
“Supervisor WindyRiver, Lead Watchwoman Ja. How may Death’s servant help the city watch this evening?” Roark said, bowing deeply before the two women. His voice was deep, his skin rough and dark grey, and when he returned upright stood even taller than Nanomi’s already above average height.
“You just get done with a burial?” Renda asked, indicating the shovel in his large stoney hand.
“No. Just digging some graves, proactively.” He tapped the shovel against his shoulder, the metal ringing against the rock hard skin. “Goot had been humming his tune to me. The Spiral continues. As summer dies, so shall Death come for many. I wanted to be prepared.” He smiled without showing his teeth.
Renda suppressed a shudder. “We have a need for your services Roark. A young woman has died under mysterious circumstances. We would like you to Speak with Dead so that we may figure out what happened.”
“I appreciate you not insulting the natural order by asking for her to be raised. And since you said she was young, either her next of kin cannot afford the services of another of my ilk, or something about her death makes such a slight unfeasible.” He rubbed his chin with his free hand, making a slight grinding noise. “But you wouldn’t be asking for my assistance for any old death, so I’m going to assume it is the latter.”
“We can fill you in when we get there, it’s not very far.” Renda said, untying the pouch from her belt and tossing it to Roark.
He tossed the pouch a few times, feeling the weight of the coins contained therein. “Just a moment.” He said and went and placed his shovel down against the wall near the side door of the temple then passed through a gate out of the graveyard. “Lead the way.” He said after returning to the two.
The Granitine Feldsgar fell into step behind Renda and Nanomi, and they made their way back towards the business district, the streets emptier now that it was becoming darker with each passing minute. An entryway sandwiched between storefronts led to a stairwell, and Renda led the way to a door and knocked briefly before entering.
A man was sitting at a table off to the right of the open space. He was facing the door, but reading a small bound book by lamp light. “I was expecting your underlings, not yourself Supervisor.” He said. It was only then that he saw Roark entering the loft behind Nanomi. “Ah, that would explain it. This will save me a trip though.” He stood up and put his book away, then walked towards the group and produced a gold coin, which he handed to Roark. “Make sure she gets the proper rites, gravewatcher.” He then turned and faced Renda. “Check in with my master on the morrow.” He said to her.
“Mid morning Zedram.” Renda said to him. “It’s going to be a late night.” Zedram nodded, then left out the still open door.
“Who is this girl?” Roark said, moving into the loft as Nanomi closed the door. “That one’s aforementioned master, I presume?” He turned and gestured back out into the hallway before continuing to explore the loft.
“This information is potentially embarrassing.” Renda hedged.
“The dead, and their keepers, tell no tales.” Roark assured. “Well, other than the questions you wish to ask of this one.” He said, pointing to the corpse he had found at the other end of the room.
Nanomi advanced, and saw the very same pendant that she had seen this morning on the neck of the corpse on the bed. “She’s twenty-four, but she looked to be in her mid forties this morning, and now she could pass for a great grandma.” Nanomi said, mostly for Roark’s benefit. Her skin was thin and stretched paper thin, joints and bones prominent. The auburn hair from this morning was now completely white, thin as cobwebs on her scalp.
“Her name is Vika. She is the illegitimate, but loved, daughter of Councilor Numegan.” Renda said. “Her death may have something to do with an ongoing investigation. How much time do you need to prepare the spell?”
“Just but a moment.” Roark said, reaching into a pocket and producing a bit of incense and a fire starter. He set the small resinous cone on the nightstand, brushing aside some dirty dishes, and struck the firestarter above it, causing a spark to catch. An earthy scent began filling the room as the tiny wisps of smoke rose in the air. “Both of you, kneel here.” He pointed to a spot that would have them nearly face to face with the corpse. “I will lay my hands upon you as I cast, allowing you to ask the questions instead of me.” Renda and Nanomi lowered themselves, and Roark placed one heavy hand each on their shoulders. “Goot! Your servant calls!” Nanomi could feel his voice reverberating through her body. “The Spiral is eternal. All that lives is one day yours. Allow us to pierce the veil and speak with this new acquisition of yours briefly. We beseech you, oh Death.” As he finished his chant, the corpse opened its mouth and drew in a wheezing breath. Its eyes opened, milky cataracts staring at the ceiling. “Ask your questions.” Roark whispered to them.
“Vika, when did you realize your body was aging unnaturally?” Renda asked.
“Lunch. Eating lunch. Tooth fell out. During lunch.” The voice sounded faint and colorless, as if it wasn’t coming from the same place a voice would normally come from.
Renda thought a moment before asking the next question. “How long after that did you die?”
“Was cold. Was tired. Laid down. After lunch.”
“Well that was clear as mud.” Renda complained.
“The animating spirit is not the soul of this woman.” Roark explained from behind them. “It knows what they knew, but it doesn’t understand much.”
Nanomi spoke up. “Had you done anything new in the last few days other than the moving paintings?”
“Said hi. To the cute boy. Said hi. He likes me.”
Renda smirked. “I think that basically confirms that it’s the process of creating those paintings that caused this.” She said. “There might be more deaths we haven’t heard about yet, or we might be missing something.”
“Can you tell us who in your artistic community that you haven’t seen in a week?” Renda asked the corpse.
“Haven’t seen. Sirca. Theo. Halver. Darvi. Maral.”
“Ask her if any of those people could cast a spell.” Myca said in Nanomi’s ear.
The hairs on the back of Nanomi’s neck stood up as she realized Myca might have figured it out. “Could any of the people you haven’t seen in a week cast spells?” Nanomi asked the corpse for their final question.
“No spells. No magic. Only art.” The clouded white eyes closed and the corpse let out a long dry exhalation, oblivious to the immense impact its words had foretold.