Chapter 46
The heart of every organization, every operation, every business, every community isn’t its wealth or technology or location, even though a lot of people think so. The true heart is its people. Mix the wrong people together, disaster. Put the right people in, and new opportunities, new insights, new solutions, new success is sure to follow.
Advice to the Young - Flysch Graben, cofounder of Briarwood and Flysch
Byrony and Haran entered the war room at DIC headquarters. As early as it was, the room was already filling up, and there were a number of new faces. A few people waved, but mostly they clustered in small groups around some of the people who had been there yesterday.
Yosh Boudin, in a deep talk with two people Haran hadn’t met yet, leaning over one of the tables and looking at some files he had scattered out over them. As the door closed behind Haran, he stopped pointing at something that had caught his interrest and looked up at the two.
“Yo, Byrony. Not used to seeing you out and about this early.” He waved and nodded, but there was just a touch of mockery in his voice. “Been here for an hour already.”
“Some folks like to bite the sunrise,” Byrony replied. I see you brought in Mossbourne and Greenburn. How’d you get Rashing to let go on such short notice?”
Yosh gave Byrony a wicked smile, and crossed his arms.
“Team Leader Boudin has some...special techniques,” Harit Mossbourne said. He like most of the other people there was a typical smallish gray dragonkin. Like most of them here, he had an official jacket slung over his chest, unbuttoned. Underneath it was a shirt of such intense yellow it almost hurt the eyes. There was a note of hero worship about him, and he looked at Yosh, and his spiked glowed with a bit of admiration. “It was rather impressive.”
“I bet it was,” Byrony muttered. Louder he asked, “Is the big man here yet?”
“Not yet,” Yosh said. His tone wasn’t quite approving. “He doesn’t like to ‘bite the sun’ as you put it, either.”
“Sounds like I’ve got time for tea then,” Byrony said.
“The DIC runs on tea,” Mossbourne said, lifting his mug.
Byrony nodded. “Yes it does. Come on, Haran, let’s go get some while the getting is good.” He waved the Jinn over towards the tea service.
“People must have been busy yesterday evening,” Byrony said as they walked to the tea service. He grabbed a mug off the counter, and began to fill his cup. “Netted a bunch of warm bodies.”
Haran looked around the room and counted at least seven people that weren’t there the day before, then picked up a cup himself. “Your people work fast.”
“We can, sometimes. Sometimes, like on that murder investigation I did in the Gray Lands right before our operation with the smugglers, it looked like a third of the DIC folk who aren’t on Dragon Web duties came out.”
“You have that much freedom of action?” Haran asked. “You can just go and work on any job?”
“Not usually, but sometimes calls go out on higher priority.” Byrony took a sip of his tea, then headed to the area near the Master Investigator’s office. He waved at Rust, who was already busy with her account books as they walked. Administrators who aren’t actively using a person who gets requested on another high priority activity are supposed to let them go. And if the call’s at the highest call, everybody swarms to the person requesting help.”
“Seems an odd way of doing things to me. We’re a bit more orderly over on the White Isle. But if it works for you…” Haran shrugs.
“Differences between the Aos Si and the Dragonkin,” Byrony said, nodding. “We see the world a little differently than you do. The one thing that keeps it all in check is the Logistics office. When Investigators get on the trail, we tend to forget about how pricey some of this gets. The Logistics officer puts the only real boundaries on what we can do, but we never cross that line. Costs and coin matter a lot to the Dragonkin. A lot less to investigators than most of our people, but we still respect it.”
“If you say so,” Haran said. “Sounds good that you have some limits. And that you don’t have to go beg your superiors to take you seriously when it’s time to get some resources.”
“Oh, that can happen, too, if nobody’s put an emergency call out. Local people have their budget limits, too.”
“And for good reasons,” Master Investigator said, walking up to the two men sitting in front of his office. “I see you got here early this morning, Byrony. Good to see.” He opened his office door. “Come in. I want to get started right away.”
Haran and Byrony exchanged glances, and followed him in. There was a stack of files on the desk in the room.
“Take a look at these assignments. This is how I was I was thinking about dividing out people up,” Master Investigator said.
“You want my imput?” Byrony said, somewhat surprised.
“Of course I do,” Master Investigator said, handing the papers to the younger dragonkin. Byrony put his tea mug down on the desk and began to thumb through them. While Byrony scanned through the files, Master Investigator went to his private tea service.
“Rowan Whiteslate working on the smuggler connection down by Brightwater.” Bryony scratched his head. “An interesting choice.”
“He’s good at co-opting people to turn over information. He won’t be doing it alone. I’ve already called up Rastan Bluevein to give him some muscle.”
“Good idea,” Byrony said, nodding. “They’ve worked well together in the past.”
Master Investigator added water to his tea. Haran noticed he used less water than Byrony, which for some reason added to his positive impression of the head of DIC. Seeing that Byrony’s review was going to take a while, he sat down, pulled out his notebook and pencil.
“Leda Greenslope and Maurin Edgewood on sourcing the jumpstones we found? And not Lero?” Byrony frowned. He grabbed a chair and sat down next to his mug. Laying the papers down, he picked up his own tea. “I thought that would be a natural mix.” He drank a sip.
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Outside of the office, loud voices could be heard, even if the words were muffled. Master Investigator ignored it for the moment. “I have another role for him. He’s so good at all the magic tech we use, I think it might be better to hold him in reserve for things that come up.”
“Maybe so,” Byrony said. He took a sip of his tea. “He is the best I’ve ever met.”
“Charbon Exter and Grab Torvra on the attacks on the Financials. Charbon is from Meridae. That might be useful.”
Master Investigator nodded as he sat down at his desk with his tea. “And he has relatives in the Financial district. It might open some doors.”
Byrony was near the end of the stack. “Asper Bloodstone and Balston Mullin on the missing persons. That sounds good,” he said. “Asper is very thorough, turning ever stone over three times before he lets things go. And all of these are cold cases. It’ll take some attention even to find crumbs.”
“And his eyes are fresh,” Master Investigator said. “He hasn’t worked on any of these cases before.”
“A good point,” Byrony said. He took a sip of his tea, and took a deep breath before opening the last file. “So you want Yosh to work on the Harani connection?” His voice was uncertain, maybe disapproving.
“I knew you were working on this, before I yanked you to do the operation with the White Circle and the Birch. But I thought, maybe after how people were reacting to you...maybe Yosh’s way mixed with Harit’s calmness might stir up something.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” Byrony asked, not quite convinced.
“Ride herd on all of these people. Make sure they’re really working, and not just soaking up resources. Kick them in the butt if they need it, reward them if you think it’ll help. Then report what they’re doing, and how, to me.” Master Investigator looked at his second, who was steeling his face, but obviously felt less than happy with his new assignment. “And I’ll handle the political side. Be glad you don’t have to go report to Grimsbeard and the council. If you did, you’d realize that I gave you the easier job.”
“You sure you didn’t give me this job because you didn’t want to work with Yosh?” Byrony said, rubbing his hand across his forehead.
A loud voice pierced through the door. “Better get out there before Yosh drives everybody into early retirement,” Master Investigator said. “And if I were you, I’d ship him off to Harani as fast as possible.”
“Good idea,” Byrony said. Reluctantly, he stood up.
----------------------------------------
It was early still at Pixie Hollow, but not too early for Rob, who had been working with the animals for the last hour.
He walked into the house carrying a pail of goat’s milk. Gan was putting loaves of bread in the bake oven. Arne was sitting on the rafters. Somehow he had gotten dusted with flour and Moxie was looking up at him and laughing from where she sat on the table.
Dahlia flew up to the young farm hand. “Oooh, milk. I love milk. Can I have some?”
“Uh…” Rob said, surprised by her interest. “Maybe we should ask Mistress Gan first.”
“You can have some when we eat,” Gan said, closing the bake oven door.
“But then it won’t be fresh!” the little Pixie woman said, pouting.
“Yes it will be,” Gan said. She drew a sign in the air, and the pail began to glow whitely. Soon it grew frosty. “Just set it on the counter, Rob. I’ll get it filtered when I have a moment to spare.”
She sat down on her favorite chair. “How long will it take that cart and Betts to get to Goblin Market? I’m getting low on some things.”
“Probably about an hour and a half. Do you want me to harness her up?”
“After the bread is done,” she said. “That’ll give me time to make a list.”
About an hour later, Rob brought the cart around. “Would you like me to drive it?”
“You sure you don’t mind?”
“Mind taking Betts out for a drive?” he said, chuckling. “Never.
Gan climbed up and together, they pulled out.
As they turned onto the King’s Highway, Gan asked Rob,“So tell me again, why the town is called Goblin Market? When I passed through there, I didn’t see any any Goblins at all.”
“Nobody has the true story, because nobody wrote it down,” Rob said. “Anyway, that’s what Lady Elaine told me. I can only tell you what my grandfather told me.”
“Well, tell away,” Gan said. “I don’t have much to do until we get there.”
Rob nodded. “Well, according to my grandfather, once upon a time, not long after the Sundering, people coming up the road had no place to stop on the road between Meridae and Waterford by Glint. Oh, people would stop by Redrock to drink from the spring, and camp out, but a place to rest and eat? None.
“There was an enterprising Goblin who noticed this. My grandfather said his name was Sanders Bluehair, the father of a large family. He had built a hut right near the road, but really hadn’t paid much attention to the people who came and went on their own business. And many people were more than willing to ignore him and his brood in return. You know how the Daoine tend to look down at Goblinkind.”
“Goblins are ugly,” said a little voice.
Gan looked down to see Rosebud sitting on her bag, stretching in a luxurious yawn.
“How did you get here?” Gan asked. “I thought I told all the Pixies to stay home and wait until I got back.”
“You did?” Rosebud asked. “I’ve been asleep for hours. I found this lovely cloth cave this morning when everybody was arguing about what type of bread was best. I curled up in it and went right to sleep.” She looked around. “Where are we? And why is the land moving?”
“We’re on our way to Goblin Market,” Gan said, frowning at the tiny woman, who seemed to ignore Gan’s disapproval. “And that wasn’t a cave made out of cloth. That’s my travel bag you crawled into. You’re lucky you didn’t get hit by all the things I put in it before we left the house. If you want to get home in one piece without getting lost, you better stay near.”
“I just found a nice dark pocket,” Rosebud said. “It was so much better than listening to Arne brag about being the best judge of bread types and Moxie telling him how wrong he was. And then Dahlia swept it, and it got so loud. I just had to get away from it all.” She yawned, then looked up at Rob. “You are telling a story?”
“I was trying to, before being disturbed by a sleepy stowaway Pixie.” Rob looked down at the little woman and sighed. For some reason, that made Rosebud blush, and she fluttered up to Gan’s shoulder and hid herself in the woman’s neck.
“Now, if I can get back to it,” Rob began. “One day, a traveler came by his campsite, and offered to buy a bowl of stew off the Goblin right before he and his family sat down for dinner. During the meal, Bluehair heard the story of how hard it was for travelers, with no inn, no tavern, no good food to be had between Waterford and Meridae.
“After the traveler left, Bluehair had a long talk with his wife Samsi, and then sent word to his three brothers and their families. Together, they began building, and before you could snap your fingers, they had built a tavern and a stable. The three brothers put up a large sign that read Goblin’s Rest, and soon they had some regular trade. One of the brothers was a decent blacksmith of horseshoes and related things, and the other brother set up a shop to sell useful items for travelers. The fame of Samsi’s pies and stew and sausages began to spread, and travelers began to stop on a regular basis.”
“A Bauchan man who had left his home behind under circumstances he’d never explain set up near the Goblins as a wheelwright. The three Goblin brothers got into a fight over profits, and the one who ran the store sold out to another Bauchan, a merchant, who quickly enlarged the little store and added more stuff for sale. This was the ancestor of Mayor Turbot, which may be why his is the richest family in the area. A clurichaun moved in next and set up a brewery which was much better than the brew that the Goblins were making. A shoemaker showed up, and then a toymaker.
“By the time there were 20 households living there, the Mistress of Allynwood decided to set up a weekly market there, since it was close to most of the Allynwood villages. And that’s why it went from the Goblin’s Rest to Goblin Market. And so it has been ever since.”
“What happened to the Goblins?” Rosebud asked.
“Oh, Bluehair finally made enough money that he sold the tavern which had become an inn by that time to a fine family of Ellyllon who took it over, and their family still runs the main inn. It’s still called Goblin’s Rest, even after all these years. Bluehair, it’s said, took his wife and children and moved into the hills near Whitecross, where they still live today.”
“Well it’s certainly more than twenty households now,” Gan said.
“That’s what happens when you become the market town,” Rob said. Turbot’s not the only rich man there.”
“Is it a pretty place?” Rosebud asked. “Are there lots of flowers?”
“More like lots of horse apples,” Rob said. “I won’t go there any more than I have to.”
The little Pixie looked deflated. “I was hoping it was pretty.”
“Don’t feel sad,” Gan said. “That’s where Leila gets her sugar cookies from.”
“Cookies?” Rosebud said, immediately perking back up.
“And yes, we’ll bring some back.”
Rosebud gave Gan the biggest smile. “Moxie will be so jealous!”