Chapter 22

Think of each piece of evidence like a part of a puzzle. It is your job as investigator to sort through the puzzle pieces. At times you will find large gaps – this means you don’t have enough pieces, and your investigation may have to focus on gathering more to get the puzzle to fit together. Other times, you will find some of what you collected as evidence is not evidence at all. You will have to go back through your material and see where the puzzle takes shape if you eliminate it.

There is very seldom a speedy solution to a complicated puzzle or investigation case. Watch, wait, sort, hunt for more information. Our slogan is ‘we never stop investigating.’ And we don’t. Eventually the puzzle will make itself known, no matter how long it takes.

DIC Operations Manual

Violetta Greenleaf found herself once again.

This had been happening from time to time, where she rose up out of the dark warmth, not exactly sleep, where she knew nothing, not even thought, to become aware. But even this place was too dreamlike to be real. Things that would never happen in the world she knew took place, like finding notes that directed her where she should go next, blue rabbits having long interesting conversations with her about the scent of flowers in the plan of the Lifegiver took place, and the sky overhead would sometimes shimmer like water. Oddly, she never questioned why, only that she needed to do it.

This time, she found herself wandering down a path through the rocks. It was red rock country, harsh and dry. A lizard in dusky brown scales bolted out of the shadows then turned to look at her. It flashed an intense, electric blue. “Prepare yourself,” it said, then darted off into the shadows.

She continued walking. The sky shimmered, almost like the ripples on the surface of a lake, caught by the faintest breeze. Even though it was sunny and bright, her mind began to fill with a sense of unease, not quite dread, but like the foreknowledge that something unpleasant was ahead.

A spider crawled across the trail. It began to glow bright red and slowly grew large as a dog. Halfway across the trail it stopped, raised its two front legs and met her eyes with its multiple ones, growing with a bright blue light.

“I am sorry, woman of the Daoine, that I bit you and caused you to need to come to this realm,” the spider said. Its voice was light and whispery. “They tell me you are destined for important things, and the Mother of all Spiders has told me I must let my hold on you go to fulfill that destiny. Our meeting was just an accident and I bit on reflex. Having no personal grudge against you, I renounce my bite. Leave with my blessing.”

The path rounded a bend. The canyon she had been walking through widened, and the landscape slowly changed. Dryland scrub began to grow. She saw a rabbit nibbling on a branch. “Keep walking,” it said, then bounded away.

Ahead she heard water, not loud as a waterfall, but a small trickle, like in a little fountain. She could feel a change in moisture as well. The brush gave way to dryland trees, then grew thicker. A large bird, black in the sky circled over her, then slowly gyred overhead.

“Find the Oak,” it cawed, then climbed higher and flew off.

In some ways, the path she was walking seemed to stretch out forever, or perhaps it was that with each step she was walking, her speed was slowing down. After a time she was sure of it, that she was walking slower and slower, like if the air was growing thicker, heavier. There was no wind pushing against her, but it began to feel like she was walking into a strong storm wind.

A butterfly flitted by, obviously unaffected by whatever was slowing down as it darted through a stand of daisies. As she neared, it paused, then landed on her shoulder. “You are near the oak. Keep going, no matter how hard it feels.” Then it flew off.

Violetta took four more steps, each one harder than the one before, her head bowed, looking at her feet.

“Look up, child,” a warm voice said.

She looked up as directed. In front of her was a huge, ancient oak tree. Next to it a small fountain played, splashing water that ran off, filled a basin and made a rivulet that ran off into the distance. As she stood there, the trunk of the oak shimmered, and out of it stepped a woman of fiery red hair. Her garments wrapped around her in an unseen breeze like a robe of smoke. She took Violetta’s hand. Her touch was soothing, warm, and solid, more solid than anything else Violetta had touched in this landscape.

“They are calling you home, child. I was glad to hold you to my bosom while you healed, but now, it is time to start the hard work of what the Lifegiver has called you to do.” She rested warm fingers over Violetta’s eyes. “Go with my blessing.”

Suddenly she felt like she was falling, down, down, down. With a jerk, she landed and opened her eyes, only to see Xhandi’s concerned face, and a jinn woman dressed all in white.

The woman, who was holding her hand released it. “Welcome back.”

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Lady Elaine had made an arrangement with Gan to give her some time to settle in before dropping by to see how she was doing. This day was day seven, and to be honest, Gan was surprised she had stayed away so long, but was glad she had. The last few days had been an interesting experience. Learning to bake bread while surrounded by a cloud of curious onlookers who would get coated in flour and dust the kitchen was an adventure in itself, and the Pixie interest had brought pie-making to an entire new level.

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Somehow it scratched the itch that not having a school full of younger students to care for had left in her with. And as long as they were there, she could never be lonely.

As Gan made herself at home, so did her animals. Freed from pulling Gan’s wagon, the cows had found the pasturage at the Pixie Hollow farm to their liking, especially the big field beyond the barn filled with sweet meadow grass. The fact that there were pixies around bothered the two cows not at all. They for the most part, treated the little flying faes like flies. If one flew too close to an ear, a flick took care of it. But mostly they didn’t notice, and to be honest, the Pixies didn’t really like the meadow as much as the house and the barn and the trees and the land down by the stream. Hawks hunted there, and foxes and other small meat eaters, and those things and pixies are not good friends.

The goats, either more aware or just more determined, found their own way around the homestead. The little house, which was build in part into a hill and had a turfed roof over the rest of it soon became a favored spot for the goats, which upset several of the pixies greatly, since they had enjoyed the heights. In revenge they tried pinching the goats, and throwing pixie dust. This created a war; the goats were too clever or sensible to be taken in more than a couple of times by the illusions of the pixie dust and soon the goats learned ways to torment the little faes with head butts and well placed bites until the they began to give them a wide berth.

The one with the hardest time of it all wasn’t the cows or the goats or even the pixies. It was Mistress Gan’s cat.

This was in part due to Arne.

As a rule of thumb, pixies and cats are unfriends of the greatest sort. Cats are immune to the illusion of pixie dust, which normally makes them invisible or monstrous to those who aren’t. It can be used to create illusions of something as well; a rock can become a raging lion for a time, an ugly woman beautiful, a weak man look strong. Outside of flying, it was the most important defense that the Pixies used.

But because cats are immune, and just the right size to prowl for pixies, pixies prefer to avoid the animals. But for some reason, Arne was fascinated.

Perhaps it was Prydi’s white boots, or maybe the fact that the cat had one black ear. Arne would lie in wait, waiting for the cat to stretch out in the sun, or jump on Mistress Gan’s lap, or find a comfortable place to curl up and sleep, and then the little man would come out of hiding, slide up to the cat and try to touch it. The black ear was his favorite, but he had pulled Prydi’s tail or twitch his whisker as well. He would give things a yank, then fly up, out of the reach of the cat’s teeth and claws.

“If he eats you,” Gan said after one noteworthy screech from the cat, “don’t expect me to do a rejuvenation spell.”

Somehow, the other pixies decided to take the cat’s side in this particular war, telling on Arne as he tried to sneak. Prydi tried to be a good sport about it, but cats will cat. Five days after Gan arrived, Arne got caught by his shirt. The other pixies let out a shriek that could be heard for yards, as the cat gave the pixie a thorough shaking. Gan came running out of the house, dusted in flour from making pie, and got there just in time to see Arne’s shirt rip and the little man fly free.

Arne came and landed on Gan’s shoulder. “You’ve got to do something about that monster!” he said, breathless and shaking.

“Maybe we need to do something about a certain pixie,” Gan said, brushing him off her shoulder. “Didn’t I warn you? Haven’t Moxie and Seamus and Gilly and all the others?”

“But...but...but...” Arne said. “He almost ate me.”

“So leave him alone,” Gan replied.

The little pixie sighed.

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Gabbro Byrony, assistant Investigator to the Master Investigator sat in one of back rooms at DIC headquarters, leaning against a table piled high with evidence, forensic reports, notes, interview transcripts and an odd curio he had picked up during his investigation of the murders at Xendo’s Freehold.

“I’m missing something. How does it connect to Sinter Acquisitions? What in a played out, bad luck mine would get them to offer up so much money to the mine? There has to be something extra, something of real value about the site we haven’t figured out yet. And who had the spybirds there?”

There was a knock at the door.

“Enter,” Byrony said.

Tansy Slateshard walked in carrying a big mug of tea, which she handed over to Byrony. “Thought you might find this helpful. We could hear you out in the main room. Might be time to take a break.”

He gave Tansy a small, if genuine smile. “Thanks. I was that loud?”

“Not really. My desk is pretty close to the door. But I know you – when you get close to a roadblock, you start talking out loud. And when you do that too long, I know it’s time you take a break. So the tea.”

“Yeah, this one’s a real puzzler. Someone offers to buy a property for way more than it’s worth, and then tries to hide the fact that they even offered. A few months later, the owners end up dead, in a nasty way. And it had to be dragonkin that did it – they used blazendraught to murder a bauchan man. And someone had the place under surveillance, too. But nobody’s made a claim for the property yet.”

Tansy shook her head. “Sounds like there was something somebody really wanted there. And maybe they got it.”

Byrony took a sip of the tea. “Maybe. Or maybe this was for vengeance, or to discredit the people making the original offer or who knows? Have you seen Lero around?”

“He’s buried himself in the archives today. Last I saw he was digging through the old business logo registries.” Tansy walked along the table, looking at the materials Byrony had gathered. Seeing a diagram of the inside of Piter’s house, with all the findings indicated, she shuddered.

“Yeah, he’s doing that for me. We got a glimpse of one with the Scene Reader, but I’ve never seen that design before.”

“There’s an awful lot of registered companies. And a bunch more hobby companies who’ve filed their designs with us, too. Even some non-businesses,” Tansy said. “He could be looking a long time.”

“Better him than me,” Byrony said, rotating the mug of tea in his hand before taking another sip. “Last time I had to do deep research, I thought the archivist was going to have me removed for being too noisy.”

Tansy chuckled. “That’s what you get for thinking out loud. At least in here, people are more willing to put up with it.”

There was another knock at the door.

“That’s probably the signal I need to get back to my desk,” Tansy said, moving across the room. “Good luck on your investigation.”

Byrony lifted his cup. “Thanks for the tea.”

The dragonkin woman opened the door. “Master Investigator!” She bowed her head slightly to him, and hurried out of the room as Master Investigator walked in.

“Well, Byrony, any progress in your murder case?” the older dragonkin asked.

“Not really,” Byrony said with a sigh. “I’m missing something. Lots of potential things, none with any proof.”

Master Investigator nodded. “Sometimes it’s like that. That’s why our slogan is ‘We never stop investigating.’ It can take a long time for the pieces to fall into place.”

“Or even to find all the pieces,” the younger man said.

“It’s a perfect time for me to interrupt you then,” Master Investigator said. “Pack some things. We’re heading to the Boundary Lands.”