"Do people ever just lie to your face?"

The anger from finding the letter last night wasn't gone, but it had been reduced to embers and was mainly frustration now. Though he expected it would be easily stoked into a full blaze if he allowed it.

"You understand what my profession is, correct?" Miss Justiciar commented dryly from her place at the desk.

Cal had spotted her on campus and followed her back to what appeared to be her temporary office.

It was oddly familiar, and it had taken him a moment to realize they were in the same room he'd taken his entrance exam in.

The place had been given a slight makeover. Gone was the musty smell, and while he could see signs of dust still present in the corners, most of it had been cleaned up. It was also brighter, thanks to the lamps she'd set up. They were simple things, just metal rods with a bulb attached to the end.

Aside from the teacher's desk, the rest of the furniture had been stacked as best it could and pushed to the side.

"You put the bad people away."

He gave a dull reply, conscious of what should and should not be said. Speaking to her on a whim like this wasn't something he should be doing. By all rights, he should be doing what he could to limit contact.

But he needed to vent to someone who might understand.

"That is what I endeavor to do," she said, her pen scraping harshly on a document she was signing. "However, reality does not always play out as such."

It sounded like he was not the only one having a bad day. Of course, being lied to wasn't anything new. It had more to do with the person and subject than the action itself.

He'd asked her, subtly, if anything had changed with the Anne situation.

Alice didn't blink as she told him he was worrying too much.

"Then your job must really suck," Cal replied, pacing slightly. The sounds of his footsteps were louder than they should have been due to the loose wooden floorboards.

The lying shouldn't bother him. It didn't.

He just thought that they were finally getting along better. Sure, he'd pissed her off with the Sebby thing, but even that came off as more exasperation than genuine anger.

In spite of everything, he had fooled himself into thinking he deserved a degree of trust. Which was laughable considering his entire existence was built on lies.

The pen stopped, and his warped expression stared back at him from her mask.

"That assessment would be in the minority." Her chin was held high, and she met him with an unwavering stare. "Our powers are broad and the oversight light. Delivering the Emperor's justice is a privilege many yearn for. Of course, the cost is suitably high. Even spares are hesitant to forsake ties to their houses."

He could see why people would be eager for such a position of authority, but it came off as more trouble than it was worth to him.

"Like the Fingers then?" He asked, not thinking it would be an unusual question. "Alice has told me a lot about them, because, you know."

The lack of clarification did not preclude her from nodding in responses.

"She expects you to take the mantle of one. Yes, I surmised as much." Janice turned back to her work, flipping another page and filling out what looked to be a form. "However, they are not equivalent. Being a Finger is a temporary post; you are able to rejoin the ranks of your house once your tenure is concluded. Our vows are taken for life."

That made sense. Being a referee for most of the game, stacking the odds in your favor, and then throwing on your team's jersey at the end wasn't exactly fair.

"Though some of us take them more seriously than others," she murmured.

Being in the position she was in, Cal doubted that was a slip-up. Which meant he was meant to hear it.

The bait had been set out, and Cal bit.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

A slow inhale, followed by an even slower exhale, dragged out as Cal waited for a response.

"It's nothing to concern yourself with," she said with an all-too-manufactured neutral tone, tapping her pen several times. "It is simply that some in my position find it difficult to truly part ways from their past life and subsequent obligations."

That was quite the admission. She was essentially accusing her colleagues of being corrupt in some manner or another.

While infighting between their ranks was a cause for celebration, he would soon see this whole investigation wrapped up either way.

"You did not share such grievances when you claimed Petro lied to you." She returned to his opening statement. There was a sharpness to her tone, and he suspected she was back in investigator mode. "Who was it?"

He might have stepped in it. Cal thought about how to deflect suspicion, and an answer came to the forefront of his mind.

"Lily, or Liliane, however, you're supposed to call her." His pacing quickened as if this were a large burden on him. "She told me she was studying, but she's hanging out with that fiance of hers."

While she was with him, she hadn't lied about it. After Alice brushed off his concerns, Lily had been his next stop. Finding out she was skipping classes to meet with the man spurred jealousy within him. He'd never met the man, but he would have been happy to take him out to lunch if it meant getting out of classes.

Granted, his senior curriculum day wasn't that bad. Especially with Ferguson's class still being on hiatus.

Their messages had revealed she did not share the same sentiment and was rather annoyed at having to spend the day with him. From the way she griped about it, he got the sense she was somehow forced into it. Cal chalked it up to pressure from Willinam's or her family.

With a bit of prodding, he had worked out that she was in on Alice's little plan, but there were things neither of them was willing to outright say over text, and so getting a straight answer out of her wasn't easy. The closest he'd come to was something cryptic about sitting tight and leaving things to them.

He was really hoping he'd be able to convince Alice to drop her plans about Anne, but he couldn't outright say he knew what she was planning without revealing his connection to the psycho assassin.

So now he was stuck having to attend a meeting and pretending to hear her ludicrous request out. On the bright side, it would make a decent dry run for his Whistling Death persona.

"You'd do best to abandon your pursuit of her," Janice replied with little humor.

She had gone back to her form completion, his answer having done its job of disinteresting her. Even if it was his intent, he could not help but feel annoyed she had believed that so easily.

"Oh, sorry." His apology caused her head to tilt up, and he continued. "I should have figured when you cornered me in the men's room, but I don't like you that way."

He delivered it as earnestly as he could, and she finished the stroke of a pen before responding.

"You're misstating facts for your own amusement." Her statement was followed by an evaluating stare, and he realized he might have been too clever there.

Keeping this act straight was difficult, and he somewhat regretted trying it in the first place. He'd already dialed it back after their first meeting, and the second had the excuse of being drunk. He wondered how much more he could peel back without making it obvious.

Maybe ripping the bandaid off would work? After all, he was close to framing someone else.

His pacing stopped, and he grabbed a chair from a corner and brought it to her desk. He flipped it around so the back was facing her and made to sit so he could lean over the backrest.

"Wanna know a secret?" He settled his weight on the chair. "I'm actually a lot-"

He didn't finish, as the rickety chair collapsed under him and he fell on his ass. Cal sat on the floor dumbly. There had been a deliberate choice not to catch himself there, as he felt the timing was too comical to let go to waste.

"This classroom is a dump," Cal stated that which was evident to anyone with eyes. "You know I took my first test in here; maybe that's why I failed them so badly."

It wasn't, but maybe he should have used that excuse.

"I'm certain that's why," she said in a manner that conveyed it was anything but.

Screw it, he wasn't going to try and correct her again.

"And yes, these quarters are serviceable, but not ideal. Our presence on campus is not exactly welcomed by your headmaster."

Confirmation that Victor was doing as he said was nice. Cal wondered how the man would react once he got wind of how enthusiastically the Whispering Death claimed credit for Petro's death.

"The deputy is the same way with me," he complained from the floor. "I didn't even do anything."

He gathered the pieces of the chair in front of him and assessed whether he could put it back together.

Breaking things was always easier than fixing them, and he was at a loss on how to even begin with this.

"She has reason, although I would agree the justification is flawed." Hearing that from a Justiciar gave him some vindication, even if he already knew it. "Should you not be in class? I believe your schedule has you in Magical Engineering at this hour."

Meh. The class was pointless, and with everything going on, he didn't have the will to attend.

"It's super boring," he responded, not elaborating further.

He decided to start one step at a time and found two large pieces that fit together, setting them to the side.

"Professor Wyatt's reputation is such that, in the past, that class might have been the first to be filled. Curious that you would have two instructors who fell short of the Empire's, and even the Emperor's, expectations."

Wyatt was that big a deal at one point? Cal had a hard time seeing it. The man couldn't even grade a stupid exam in a timely manner.

"Didn't the fat one almost kill you?" He questioned innocently. She was the one responsible for the troublesome prince. If she hadn't confronted Ferguson, he would never have gotten bent out of shape.

He put another pair together.

"Yes, as I said, he's deteriorated mentally more than I expected. It pains me to see one I looked up to for so long to act in such a manner."

Never meet your heroes. It was a good thing Cal didn't have any. He was always more of a save yourself kind of person anyway.

"Didn't he attack you guys?"

He would have thought the man was more of a villain from their perspective.

"I won't condone his assault on the head office. However, in our world, people like to speak of family. More often than not, they twist the word. They would make any amount of sacrifices if it meant their house received an ounce of greater prestige, forgetting it is the people of the house and not the titles plastered to it that are truly important."

Her tongue dripped with bitterness, and it did not take a genius to surmise this was personal.

"Someone willing to throw that all away to seek justice for his late wife, that is admirable. He even ensured his daughter was protected from the fallout. Words fall short of describing it in appropriate detail; however, make no mistake, he was once a great man."

When he'd first heard of that incident, he'd drawn comparisons to his own. Put in this light, they weren't as comparable. His were far more selfish, even if he made up for it in the concessions gained.

"Sure." He wasn't going to argue against her.

Piecing together the large pieces had been easy, but when he got to the smaller, he realized how hopeless it was.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

He didn't even have something to adhere them together, so he wasn't sure why he was even trying.

"What brought me here is a prime example of the norm," she said heatedly, and Cal perked up. "House Lucerna's dealings are murky, and that is speaking generously. Even now, with a deceased scion, they impede my progress. I begin to wonder what truly happened to their former heir."

That broke through his poor mood, and Cal ensured the smile creeping up on him remained internal.

Yes, just like that. Keep wondering; keep pulling the string. And if it led away from him, all the better.

"It's not just them either; I feel everyone would rather forget he existed." Count him among those. "The death of a student should warrant more alarm than what has been."

He picked up the pieces, giving up, and began throwing them into the trash can.

"Maybe no one liked him."

An understatement if he ever gave one.

Miss Justiciar set the pen aside. She stacked the papers together and separated them into piles.

"He was a worm of a human being." The part of her face visible remained unchanged, yet the disgust was apparent in her dark eyes. "Every stone I overturn only strengthens that. That does not change my mandate. I was tasked with discovering the perpetrator of his death, and I will accomplish that."

Hmm, they were entering dangerous territory again.

Should he make himself scarce? He had not vented as much as he liked. Still, it was better than nothing.

He had wanted to get it out of the way before meeting with the agents in the city. They would probably understand where he was coming from better, but griping at them might diminish their confidence in him.

"Any closer to that?" It was a silly question, but he didn't think there was any harm in asking. Everyone relevant knew he was a subject in the investigation.

His query did not impress, and her attention drifted back to her work.

"I do not make a habit of sharing the material developments of a case with one of the primary suspects."

Why did the only person in the Empire who looked to take their job seriously have to be the one assigned to bust him?

Cal finished disposing of the last of the pieces, wiping his hands on his blazer.

"Habits can be broken," he commented to the non-reaction of the woman. "I should probably go study."

This hadn't gone as he'd hoped, but it also hadn't been too bad considering the company he was with.

Leaving without cuffs was a win in his book.

"Do so." She did not seem concerned at his departure, opening a desk drawer and retrieving another stack of paperwork. "And a word of advice." He was on his way out when her words gave him pause. "Take care not to assume everything given to you is falsehood. Be skeptical, not scornful, for the latter path is a solitary one."

That…sounded healthy.

Unfortunately, between the psycho and Alice, he was leaning toward the former being the bearer of truth.

"Thanks," he delivered sincerely, waiting for the door to begin shutting as he delivered his last. "See you around."

He was definitely going easy on her when he attacked her. If, he corrected himself. The older one could probably take a beating better.

However, that would be outing number two, and right now he needed to prepare for number one.

His fake sister wouldn't beat up herself.

----------------------------------------

"You can't beat up the Ardere heir."

That was bullshit.

Night had yet to fall, but it was near enough, and he was back in the city. He'd left as discreetly as he could, and with Alice already gone for 'heir business', he was not afraid of his absence being noticed.

The venue was predictable. It was the small backroom of the bar, and he had already claimed part of the sofa.

He was slightly concerned about seating arrangements when the rest of them arrived, as this place was pretty small. The Federation agent assigned to Olivia's watch had been Cassey, and they'd sent the girl to go fetch the cloak along with any others she thought might be of assistance.

Alone with his handler, they still had some disagreements to sort out.

"No, I definitely can." He had defeated beings far stronger than her—often multiple at once. "Frankly, it's a bit overdue. I should have done it on day one."

Maybe if he gave her a good thrashing, she would regret keeping him out of the loop. Honestly, what was she thinking? Going to meet with assassins without your strongest player was the height of stupidity.

Really, beating her up was for her own good. Lily would probably be there as well. He might go easier on her, given Alice was the ringleader.

"Callum," Olivia stressed, wrinkles forming on her brow. She was seated in the armchair in front of him. "What do you think will happen when they recognize you?"

Dumb question.

Cal leaned back on the couch, shaking his head ruefully.

"Obviously, I'm not going to let that happen. That's what the shroud and not talking is for."

She was retreading old arguments, which told him she had no new compelling reasons to call off this operation.

"I've already failed at convincing you that this whole Whistling Death charade is doomed to failure." It was nice that she made peace with that. He'd be worried for her health if she didn't. "But practicing, as you say, your impression on some of the few people who would recognize your signature is... do I need to keep spelling this out to you?"

That's what she was worried about? Sure, it was an issue. But it was nothing he couldn't work around.

"Why do you think I have these?" He held up a fist. "When it comes to augmentation, I know what I'm doing. I don't leak magic and can hit someone into next week."

Someone, not anyone. Those two though? They weren't bad, but he was playing in a different league.

Olivia's lips pursed, and he sensed the question coming before it arrived.

"How strong are you physically?"

Cal had known his file was restricted, but they really didn't tell her much about him. Maybe that was why she was so worried about that category 4 demon a while ago.

"Below them," he didn't need to specify who he was talking about. It wasn't a knock on his skill; it was a timing thing. People didn't peak in magic ability until their late twenties or early thirties. Even so, he'd bathed in the Waste long enough to be far ahead of the curve. "But the gap isn't massive. I knocked Aegis down a while back." It was mostly luck, and he wasn't able to hurt the man, but it was an accomplishment all the same. "And if push comes to shove, I have my own tricks."

Tricks he could not or would not use in the city.

Olivia drummed her fingers on the armrest.

"That is reassuring to hear." She did not sound very reassured. "I do have to question how you went from impersonating a wanted criminal to doing an ambiguous deal with classmates."

It was a good question, and she should have led with that.

"Long story short. She is trying to tie up loose ends in a stupid way, and I'm lucky enough to know a guy who knows the guy she is trying to arrange this through."

Calling it luck felt wrong, but he wasn't about to air Mask's dirty laundry. If it even was that.

"And who might this person be?"

That was a follow-up he had been hoping to avoid. With how they all reacted to the guy he killed, he could only imagine how much of a bigger fish Miss Plusier was.

He considered not giving her alias, but withholding that type of information would be counterproductive at this juncture.

"Spider."

It didn't prompt the reaction he thought, and she shook her head dismissively.

"Impossible," Olivia stated as a matter of fact. "She died years ago. It must be an imposter. Describe them in detail, abilities included."

Cal did so, still leaving out her claimed association with Mask.

Silence came over them. It was too common of an occurrence in this room, and Cal looked up at the noisy fan above them.

Someone should oil that thing or do whatever was needed to stop that clicking.

"That's the Spider," Olivia said solemnly. "Was your recount of the fight accurate? This isn't the time to bluster."

He reached into his pocket and grabbed the star. In front of her eyes, he set it upright on the low table between them. Balancing it with one hand, he used the other to give it a spin. Without cheating, it took a few tries, but he eventually got it to rotate on one of its points.

"That is not the toy you seem to think it is." Her eyes seemed to want to burn a hole into him, and he could see her hand twitch slightly as she held herself back. "Please stop that nonsense. It is disrespectful to what it represents."

Cal wondered how she would react to Mask using theirs as a toothpick.

His hand slapped the table, forcing the star flat. He retracted his hand, keeping the star in view as he turned it repeatedly in his palm.

"I didn't embellish. She's a tough old bat."

Coming up with a way to deal with her that did not involve leveling city blocks was difficult.

"Then we're already compromised."

Oh, yeah. He supposed they were.

"Don't worry about her. She is just doing a favor and won't rat us out or anything like that."

Olivia didn't waste time in her response, and he could see he had wound her up again.

"How can you be so sure?"

Cal suspected she was already making plans on how to extract them both. On second thought, she probably already had them cooked up and ready to go.

"Because I'd kill her, and she knows that."

She had claimed he couldn't threaten her.

But she knew he was dangerous, just as he knew the same of her. In the wild, when two top predators came across each other, an actual fight was rare. Fighting would lead to injuries, threatening both of their survival prospects.

Humans were complex animals, and so it wasn't as straightforward. He had to believe there was some mutual respect there, and he hoped it extended to keeping his secrets.

Cal was aware of how many risks he was taking here. In the end, he just couldn't sit at home and let things play out on their own.

Alice was going to a meeting tonight, and nothing he could do would change that. Maybe he could have delayed it by concocting some scandal on campus to keep her busy, but there was no guarantee it would work.

He'd also thought of just standing her up, but that felt like an insult to Miss Plusier, and she seemed like the type of woman to take that very, very personally. That sounded like a headache in the making.

No, if he played this right, it would all work out.

"You won't listen to a word I say on the contrary, will you?"

Olivia reminded him of her presence, and he laughed. It was such a silly notion.

"Of course, I'll listen." He wouldn't even mute her, despite knowing how. "But don't think that's going to make me change my mind."

He'd evaluated his options, and it would take a lot to dissuade him now.

The frown on her face was balanced by the smile on his, and he leaned back with his hands behind his head.

He had been hoping his at-ease appearance would calm her, but it didn't seem to be working.

That zoo analogy from Albert came to the forefront of his mind, and he couldn't help but think their roles were reversed.

It seemed he was always the one trying to keep her calm instead of the other way around.

A signature came into his awareness, and he realized Cassey had returned with the others.

It was about time this show went underway.