Afternoon changed to evening, and Pan hurried to the courthouse. With a simple programmed message in hand, Pan would find a computer, upload her message, and schedule it to broadcast the following day. To do that, she needed access to Scaldigir’s broadcast system. She needed to find a computer, and she needed it to be unlocked.

Casimir wouldn’t expect her so early, but he would be happy to see her just the same. Pan hoped he wasn’t out.

She stopped at a crosswalk and waited for her chance. Cars whizzed by, held aloft by the road. They looked small in front of the courthouse. Sculpted flowers made up its facade, and windows of bright glass added more floral imagery.

Pan sighed. The crossing light remained red. She glanced at her surroundings, particularly a wall of sanctioned graffiti. Two years ago, when the wall became open for urban artwork, she could have added something, a small piece of herself among the works of other artists. A great wave swept across one half of the wall, topped with creatures and people. A giant face, a womanly rendition of Scaldigir, waited on the other side, with eyes closed. Long hair framed her profile, and more creatures and people sat within her ringlets.

Pan could have added a creature or a person to the piece, but she never did. She never painted on a wall until the day she spray-painted her darkest secret for everyone to see – though they never asked to hear it.

The crossing light blinked green. It showed a man and a woman.

Pan stepped out in front of the cars. As she moved towards the sidewalk, Pan rehearsed the things she would say to Casimir. Pan practiced the words in her head, trying different tones of voice. If we’re going to switch our investigation to find the reaper’s murderer, why question any more ghosts? Or, maybe…I’m desperate. Please, may I skip tonight’s investigations?

Pan reached the other sidewalk and slowed. She approached the courthouse and watched it with wary eyes. Above the door, a clock proclaimed the time 16:00. Pan needed to get moving. She trotted up the steps.

A man on his way out opened the door, and Pan had to dodge. The man startled. He recovered himself, stood aside, and held the door open for her. Pan gave him a polite nod and entered.

As the door swung shut, Pan found herself in the most official building in Pittura, maybe on all of Scaldigir. The floor swirled in a floral design. White tiles surrounded those of blue and red, arranged into the shape of blooms.

In the entryway, a tree grew out of the floor. The small tree sat under a powerful light. It would never outgrow its place in the lobby, at least not for three-hundred more years. The tree was a Dipinta tree. They grew slow, and had so many branches they looked more like mushrooms than typical trees. They had the same arrangement of roots. It made them strong.

Some things were designed to be a part of Scaldigir. Others, such as reapers, were not.

Pan looked at her choices. She could go forward, up, or down. Pan read the signs.

Through the double doors, directly ahead – reception and service. Up the stairs – records. Down the stairs – employee offices. And, down a skinny hall – restrooms and the back of the building, where the courts took up residence.

Pan peered into the basement. She’d never been down there. She performed all her work in the courts and on the service floor. But, she would find employee offices below. She couldn’t see anything around the long spiraling stairs. She took the first step and headed down.

The basement lights were dim, and Pan clutched the straps of her bag. Her bag! She couldn’t take that in to see Casimir. He’d wonder why she’d packed, and he’d correctly predict that she had no intention of seeing him tomorrow. She would have to stow it somewhere. Maybe, she could stash it in a bathroom. Now, Pan needed to find a bathroom as well as Casimir. She should go up and use the one above, but Pan thought she would find a less public restroom below.

At the stair bottom, Pan stepped onto carpet, printed with little green leaves. A sign nearby offered her guidance. Pan checked the list of departments and found the investigators. She had to keep going forward. At least, she already found a bathroom.

Right next to the sign, a hallway led deep into a narrow space, and another sign read Restrooms. Pan walked down the hall, found the women’s room, and noticed that the space seemed utterly bereft of hiding places. There were no cabinets, and the stall doors didn’t reach to the bottom. What did she expect of a public bathroom?

Pan decided to use it. That’s all it was good for. She could relieve herself before she went on the run.

Pan left the restroom. Her footsteps padded silent on the carpet. She walked to the Investigations Department, straight down the long hall.

The entrance stood closed. Pan noticed an ID reader. She pulled her ID from her person and waved it in front of the reader. To her surprise the doors slid open, and a giant farm of desks and busy investigators surprised Pan with their noise.

They crowded the room. Some sat at desks and spoke on coms. Others gathered around boards, set up with pictures and writing. A large group retreated into a side room, and Pan noted that several offices and conference rooms ran along both sides. The biggest private office occupied the back of the room, with blinds drawn, and right next to it, sat an exit, accented by two large plants.

Pan smiled. She took her bag off her back and held it low by her side. She walked across the room, and stopped by the exit. She checked the room and found everyone busy. They weren’t at all surprised to see a young woman in dark clothing. There were many such individuals among the investigators.

Pan dropped her bag into one of the plants. The leaves rustled and swallowed it up. With that taken care of, Pan strolled toward the biggest office and read the sign: Head Investigator Amor.

Of course, Casimir wasn’t the big guy. Pan strolled around the edge reading each sign. She rolled her eyes to see Vasilis’ office. Good thing he wasn’t in.

She got halfway down one side when a young man spoke to her. “Looking for someone?”

Pan faced him. “Detective Casimir.”

The man pointed ahead, along Pan’s path. “He’s the corner. This side. Closest to the building’s interior.”

Pan spotted the office. “Thanks.”

The man nodded. His com signaled him. He ignored Pan to answer it.

Pan followed the path to the corner office. She read the little plaque: Detective Baum. A corner office was probably nice, if it included windows. Pan thought of the building’s layout. She didn’t think Casimir would have any. She knocked on the door.

“Come in,” the detective’s familiar voice called.

Pan opened the door and stepped inside. No windows.

“Pan?” Casimir sat at his desk. Slowly, he stood. “What are you doing here?”

She studied the room. Everything in it seemed polished to a shiny, wooden sheen, but it was messy, filled with everything Casimir needed to think about.

“You don’t have any windows.” Pan pointed lazily around the room.

“No one does, except Amor. What are you doing here?” Casimir put his hands in his pocket.

“I have come to beg you for a reprieve tonight. I don’t want to work too late.”

Casimir nodded. “Well...do I need to remind you that we’re searching for a murderer?”

“No.” Pan was no murderer.

He meant reaper. He should have said reaper.

Pan continued, “I thought we were going to search for the other murderer. If we’re going to do that, why question random ghosts? And, half the relatives don’t even want it.”

“They agree to it.”

“What choice do they have?” Pan spread her hands. “Just...let me have tonight. I just want one night to myself. You’re going to take me to the hospital tomorrow and question the ghosts there. I want to sleep before that. I’ll have to take medicine, and if I take medicine, I need a while to sleep it off.”

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“We can go midday.” Casimir crossed his arms. “This man we need to question tonight…he died alone. He wasn’t sick. He…”

“He was old!” Pan objected. “Old people can die without warning. In fact, they are the best candidates for it.”

“We can’t take the chance that we miss a reaper’s victim.”

Pan threw her hands up. “He’s not a reaper’s victim!”

“How would you know?”

Pan fell silent. She glanced at the floor and then at Casimir’s desk, where his computer sat. She didn’t touch it, but she felt the little drive, holding her program, against her breast, inside her coat pocket. It carried her message to Scaldigir.

Pan took a deep breath. “I don’t think he’s a reaper’s victim.”

“He could jump over buildings. That’s an attractive power.”

“Maybe to...some people.” Pan was about to pin the desire for jumping buildings at the foot of man, but there might be some women who liked it too. She didn’t care for it herself, but the last thing she needed to do was give Casimir extra clues.

“How do you know what this reaper likes.” Casimir rounded his desk and approached Pan.

“I don’t know what this reaper likes. I just want my night off.” Pan bowed her head. Desperation seemed to fill her being. Pan raised her eyes to Casimir’s. She hoped they looked appropriately large. “Please,” Pan begged. “You’re making me go to the ward tomorrow. You can find your answers there.”

Casimir stared back. “Is that so? You think one visit to the ward tomorrow will find us a reaper’s ghost and the reapers’ murderer?”

“Just one more night. I just want one more night to be on my own. To do the things I like to do. I want one normal night. Please.”

Casimir’s gaze softened. “Okay. One night. Then, tomorrow we’ll go to the ward, and you’ll tell me everything the reaper ghost says. And, if there’s anything else we find out when we’re there, we can talk about it then.”

Oh, he knows.

It was a good thing she’d escape this place.

Pan’s stomach growled. She still needed his computer. Her stomach would be so kind as to help achieve that goal.

Pan raised her eyes to Casimir. “Can I have a donut?”

“What?”

“I’m hungry. Can I have an investigator donut?” Pan’s eyes searched the room.

“Are you stereotyping me? I’m a detective, not a patroller. Different buildings, you know.” He tried not to smile.

Pan watched Casimir. “Tell me. Are there donuts present?”

Casimir sighed. “Yeah, there are donuts present.” He patted her shoulder. “Wait here.” He left his office and leaned the door on the frame.

Pan waited a moment and rushed to his computer. She turned it around and plugged in her little drive. She found the emergency broadcast program, something that all experienced arcanes, law enforcement, and government officials had access to. Pan had seen it a few times when Spy used it to warn citizens before arcane related events.

Outside, Pan heard Casimir ask about donuts. Someone told him that they could be found in the breakroom down the hall. She thought she’d seen a room across from the bathrooms. She had a little time left.

Her drive uploaded the message. She set the broadcast time and then, she set the area to Scaldigir. Pan closed the program, turned the computer back to his chair, and pulled out her drive.

She stepped away from the desk, and Casimir’s door swung open.

“Donuts, my friend. Just as you asked.” Casimir opened a big box.

Pan’s mouth dropped open at the choices, no two alike. She walked close and picked one. Pan bit into it, feeling as if she tasted her last meal.

Casimir smiled. “Good choice?”

“Yeah.” Pan held her donut and looked at the floor.

“It’ll be alright. We’ll find the murderer.”

Pan’s gaze snapped up to meet his. Who did he mean this time? Pan or Brynn? “And, what happens then?”

“Anyone who has murdered another can expect some pretty significant prison time.” Casimir regarded Pan. “You never follow up, do you? On the murders you help solve.”

“No, because…”

Casimir waited.

“The ghosts don’t care – mostly. When they do…” Pan paused. She remembered vengeful ghosts: their twisted faces, their promises, and their goals. “They want other forms of justice.”

Casimir slid the donut box onto a nearby table. He didn’t take one. “Well, we can give them only what is available to us. They ask you to do something you shouldn’t, and you never help them, right?”

“Right.”

“Even if you really cared about the outcome, you wouldn’t give them their brand of justice. That would put you in a bad position, right?”

Pan nodded.

“And, you have a life to live. You shouldn’t give it away for some spirits.”

Pan froze. He knew it all. What would he say to her tomorrow – if she stayed? Too late, she’d already set up her message, and she couldn’t take it back. Pan wasn’t sure she even wanted to. Casimir seemed to think Pan shouldn’t have her vengeance, and she couldn’t think of anything else to do with her time.

I hate her, so so much.

Just the same, Pan decided to perform a little test. “What happens after we find the reaper?”

Casimir crossed his arms. “That I’m not so sure about. Reapers frighten a good deal of Scaldin, especially those in the older generations. They did a lot of bad things, Pan. Your generation jokes about it. You treat it like a scary story. So many of you forget how real it was to your great grandparents and grandparents.” Casimir held up a finger. “But, I think that our reaper will have less to worry about than she – or he – might realize. A person, whether or a reaper or not, can change the minds of others with their actions. We’ll see what kind of actions our reaper has performed, and the reaper will be judged from there.”

Judged. It implied a certain lack of freedom.

Pan nodded. She looked at her half-finished donut.

“Getting full?”

Again, Pan nodded.

Casimir picked up the box and held it open for Pan.

“I can’t put a half-eaten donut back,” she said.

“You can take the box. Have some fun with it on your night off. Share it with your friends.” Casimir thrust the box toward her.

With some reluctance, Pan put her donut inside. Casimir shut it and handed her the whole thing.

He was a good man. He sounded like he’d give her a fair chance – a fair judgement. There were things he didn’t know though, and he might change his mind about her if he realized that she had not one but two powers on top of her reaping. He and she also disagreed on what should be done with Brynn. Brynn needed better punishment than prison. From the sound of it, Brynn might even think she deserved prison. In a sick kind of way, Brynn might enjoy it. Ultimately, Casimir and Pan disagreed on what actions Pan should take next. He wanted her to wait meekly and be judged. It too much resembled what Brynn wanted for her.

Pan had other plans. She would be the very best reaper she could, and she would do it on her terms.

“Thank you.” Pan held the box close to her body.

“You’re welcome. Now, go have your normal evening. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Casimir nodded towards his door.

Pan exited.

“You stealing our donuts?” a guy asked.

“They’re a present,” Casimir called from his door.

“You’re giving away our donuts?” the guy joked.

“Yeah. That’s my thing. Giving away other people’s stuff. Did I tell you about how I gave away this old chair? My wife was pissed…”

While Casimir distracted himself and the others, Pan hurried towards the exit. She stopped by the door and discretely retrieved her bag. She hid it behind the donut box and looked back at Casimir. He looked up and waved goodbye. She gave him a last look and left.

Once outside, Pan thought about Casimir’s nice little life. He had a job, a spouse, old chairs, donuts. Pan didn’t plan on any of that anymore. She just wanted to show Brynn how wrong she’d been, and if that included revenge, then so be it.

Two blocks away, Pan found the bus stop. She got on and picked a seat. People crowded on the bus. They didn’t look at Pan. They would ride the bus to their suburban homes, just outside the city. Pan would ride it all the way to the end.

The bus stopped, and its interior clock showed ten minutes shy of 20:00. Pan walked to the door and put a foot on the steps.

“You got to get indoors, young woman,” the driver warned. “Almost curfew.”

“I know. My house is very close.” Pan stepped off the bus, with her bag on her back and her donuts in hand. She also had a golden pass, courtesy of Brynn.

The bus driver mumbled, “Come to think of it, I got to get in.”

“I won’t keep you.” Pan walked into the night.

The bus waited a minute, probably watching to see where Pan would go. She headed towards some houses with little spring lights, less than a five-minute walk away. The bus motored off, activating its wheels and bumping along the road.

She turned away from the homes and walked by a mechanic’s shop. It had closed up for the night. Pan approached the windows and looked inside. She saw a few cars, probably in different states of disrepair.

Pan glanced around. She checked the street. No one was out.

Again, Pan faced the windows. She could use one of those cars. Pan walked to the office door and tried the lock. She saw lights from a security system blink on and off. She had no idea of the code to disarm it. Pan trotted back to the garage door. She found it locked by more traditional means, but she didn’t know if those means connected to security.

Pan sighed. She needed a car. She stood on tiptoes and studied the cars inside. Pan saw a little blue one and fell in love with it. She couldn’t get to it, so maybe, it could come to her.

Pan stared at the car and called upon her telekinesis. The car levitated. Pan pulled it forward, and it advanced on the garage door. Pan stopped. She set it down. She wanted this car to drive, not to be more of a wreck.

She took a deep breath. Pan raised her hand and tugged on the garage door itself. She kept her telekinetic call gentle at first. The door buckled, but the alarm didn’t ring. Pan took another deep breath. She held it and pulled hard. The garage door burst open and splintered into planks of jagged wood. No alarm rang.

Pan exhaled. She tossed the planks to the side and ran to her car. It looked so cute.

Pan crossed the garage and found a board of keys. One was labeled Little Blue. Pan snatched it and hit the unlock button. Little blue beeped and flashed its lights. Pan opened the passenger side and dropped in her donuts and her bag. Then, she got behind the wheel and drove.

She left the car just around the side of the mine’s entrance. She’d found out what had been wrong with it. It’s brakes really screeched. It made for an interesting and nerve-wracking drive.

Pan parked little blue in the only shrubbery tall enough to hide it. She’d retracted the wheels and set the car down on the ground, sans supports, to get it even lower. Then, she grabbed her things, left the keys, and got out.

Pan debated taking the donuts. In the end, she gobbled one down and left the rest.

“Thanks, Casimir for the last meal. You probably would have picked something more balanced had you known.”

Quiet night surrounded her. Pan checked the time: 01:21. Her message should already play for anyone who turned on their television or checked the news. It would hijack the selection of programs. It would hijack news sites, and their articles. Right now, only the insomniacs might see it. They’d get others up. They’d wake the important people, and those people would make the important decisions, such as how to catch a reaper and what to do with two of them.

Pan wanted to look at the message and see how it came out, but she resisted the urge. I’m a reaper, and now, I’m going to do what a reaper is meant to do.