I caught a whiff of two scents in the air that hadn’t been there when we arrived. I stilled, disregarding my verbal spar and ignoring the look of victory on Al’s face that came through in his smirk.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, activating Synesthesia. A sharp leathery scent with a hint of steel and patchouli filled my nose and appeared as a haze of navy blue from the roof across the street. To the left, coming from the alley at the side of the same building, a mixture of cedar brown and light purple wafted to me for the musky scent of sweat, tobacco, and lilac.

Al must have noticed my change in demeanour and asked, “What? What’s wrong?”

I snapped a “Shh!” and cocked my head, tuning out the clatter of chairs and laughter from the students behind us. I focused instead on soft, steady breathing from the rooftop, the telltale sign of someone at ease and content with their environment. In the alley, I heard a shuffling of clothes, followed by an impatient tapping of feet and a faint rasping sound of metal as a blade was unsheathed and then tucked away. Someone was waiting down there.

Someone was waiting there in the darkness.

“Don’t shush me,” Al demanded, and I shushed him again, getting a bark of indignation from the dogboy, but my uneasiness only grew with each passing second. Was someone after Al? Or was there someone else that was the target? If they were here for Al, now would be the perfect time to strike while it was just the two of us.

The door opened behind me, and I caught the familiar scent of Bella: lavender, cherry blossom, and lemongrass. Her perfume was unmistakable. I also noticed the foot tapping stopped and heard a single ominous whisper, "Finally."

The change in sound from the alley answered my questions, and I turned to face Bella and asked, “Comrade Bella, forgive my bluntness, but do you have someone watching you?”

Bella frowned and sighed. “Just my guard. He should be on the roof across the street. Why?”

“I see,” I said, not allowing myself to glance toward the alley or raise my voice. “Signal your guard then go back inside. Quickly.”

Bella frowned at me. “Why? What’s going on?”

The question had barely left her lips when a dark figure suddenly darted from the alley. My coat was off, and I was running before her startled gasp had ended. I heard a sharp whistle from behind me, and the guard's frantic steps from the roof, followed by the furious pounding of feet from the alley. Whoever it was, they were moving fast.

I ran into the alley, following the brown and light-purple scent till it was overwhelmed by a thick black and yellow cloud of rot. Trash bins were being knocked over in the kin's haste.

“Who are we chasing?” Al asked from next to me.

I had to do a double take to see if he was really there. Why had he followed me? What was he thinking?

“Comrade Alphonse, please, go back and wait for the carriage. I am sure it was just an admirer of Comrade Bella’s,” I replied, trying to convince him to leave it to me.

“A stalker?” Al asked, his features turning darker. “You lead me to him, and I’ll handle it.”

I wanted to groan but had to leap over the fallen trash bins my suspect previously knocked over, trash bins Al ploughed right through, making a ton of noise and kicking all kinds of scents into the air, muddying the trail I was following.

“If you insist on following me, then stay behind me. Now the . . . stalker, as you called him, knows we're chasing. It will make it much more difficult,” I snapped. I didn’t mention that his blundering through the trash affected my ability to track.

Al grunted but slipped in behind me. Up ahead, I heard more trash bins hitting the cobblestones, throwing up all kinds of scents into the air, and I cursed. Al’s blunder did even more damage than I thought as the alleyways ahead became inundated with a miasma of rot and refuse that made me want to gag as it began to cling to the inside of my nose.

“What? What’s wrong?” Al asked.

“The stalker is trying to slow us down by creating obstacles,” I said, hearing another trash bin crash on the cobblestone.

“Then get out of my way. With that much noise, I’ll catch him faster than you can,” Al said, shoving me aside as he sprinted again.

“No! Wait!” I tried but it was too late. Al was running out ahead of me, crashing through the trash that now littered the alleyways. “Stupid, impulsive, mangy dogboy,” I cursed and put on more speed, trying to keep up with Al. He was just faster than I was in a sprint.

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Somewhere along the path of trash I caught a whiff of the scent I was chasing split off, and yet the trashy distractions kept going. The stalker wasn’t working alone.

I cursed again, louder this time. "What am I supposed to do?" I muttered under my breath. My heart was pounding with excitement as I weighed my options. If I didn't follow the stalker, they'd get away and who knows what they'd do then? But if I didn't stay with Alphonse, he could end up in a world of hurt.

I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth. No matter what the consequences were, I had to make sure Al was safe. Without another thought, I took off after him.

Five alleys later, the sound of trash bins being knocked over stopped. Either Al had caught up to the stalker, or they figured they’d done enough to get away.

I tried to find the source of the distraction. Tried to pick out his or her scent, but it was becoming too muddled, making it almost impossible. I couldn’t even pick out Al’s scent by the time I caught up to him.

Al stood in the street between alleys, looking left and right, only to turn sharply when he saw me.

“What took you so long? I lost them because you weren’t with me,” Al snapped.

“You took off like some stupid child chasing a butterfly,” I snapped back. “Worse, you were fooled. The kin you thought was a stalker split off twenty alleys ago. This was a decoy. You might have been chasing a beast for all you knew.”

“Then why didn’t you follow the stalker?” Al demanded.

I glared and steeled my voice, “Comrade Alphonse, I chose to make sure my partner was okay rather than chase some stalker.”

Al at least had the good grace to look ashamed of himself. “I’m . . . I’m sorry.”

“Tell me, why? Why was chasing this stalker so important that you felt it was okay to abandon me like that? I think I deserve an explanation,” I demanded.

Al hesitated for a moment then sighed. “It’s a long walk back to the pub, and I’m sure Beau is losing his mind right now. I’ll . . . I’ll tell you a little on the way.”

I nodded, “Do you know the way?”

Al grimaced and looked around, “Follow the trash?”

A wave of nausea rolled through me as the smell of rotting garbage clung to my skin. We silently trudged along the dirty path, my feet dragging on the concrete as Alphonse's gaze remained fixed forward. We eventually reached a familiar street and Alphonse's pace slowed, his brow furrowed in contemplation as if he were gathering the courage to say something

“My sister had a real pest of a suitor,” Al finally started. “An old dogman, much older than her. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, always following her around and sending her extravagant gifts. But no warning would sway my stupid sister from believing he was some harmless admirer,” his face twisted with a mixture of guilt and anger as he continued, “but I knew better. I hated that I was right. Anyway, he was pretty high ranking in one of the Families. Our parents were loyal to an allied Family, which didn’t leave us many options. Long story short, they refused to help. Finally, the stalker got tired of waiting and just took my sister.”

“I am so very sorry to hear that. Did you ever get her back?”

Al clenched his jaw so tightly I thought it would crack as he nodded grimly. “I did.”

“And?” I persisted.

“What else do you want to know?” he shot back, his gaze piercing me like an icy blade.

“What else happened? If it were just a matter of you politely asking for your sister's return and this old dogman complying, I don’t think you would have reacted like you did or even be here in Mancer for that matter.”

Alphonse paused, his eyes narrowed, as if he was debating whether or not to tell me the truth. Finally, he spoke, his voice cold and calculating. “Let's just say that, when it was all said and done, there was one less crime family in Abbaio... and I was the one responsible.”

I was startled by the statement. I imagined that an organisation like a crime family was composed of hundreds of people. “Did you . . . Did you take down the entire family?”

Al nodded silently, his face solemn. “I killed the bastard, rescued my sister, got her some place safe. Then I went back and dealt with the rest of them. Once they were taken care of, I chose to flee my home. I tried to convince my parents to come with me, but they were loyal.”

The last part threw me a little. That was not the story I got from the Agency. I supposed it didn’t matter which was true in the end. Whatever Al had done to save his sister made him a Hero.

“Then they got what they deserved, Comrade," I said simply as I started to walk again.

Al's eyes widened at the response, as if he'd expected me to condemn his actions or lecture him on the immorality of killing so many people.

"In Rychania, the penalty for such crimes would not have just been death, but they would have been raised and forced to serve the state for all of eternity. Their punishment would continue for all of their afterlife," I explained, recalling the Rychanian customs and law books my Handler had me study before we left his home. "But it at least explains why you have a thing about stalkers then. I suppose I can accept that.”

Al trudged beside me, his gaze glued to the cracks in the sidewalk. We walked in silence for what felt like an eternity before he finally let out a heavy sigh and muttered, “Thanks, and sorry.”

We didn’t talk the rest of the way back to the pub, where a very irate Beau was indeed waiting for us.

“Be ready very early tomorrow. The dean will be expecting you both,” Beau said before climbing inside the carriage.

“Where’s Bella? Is she alright?” I asked, halting the cattlemen.

“Her guard took her home,” he answered, climbing the last step into the carriage. We made to follow him when he held out a hand. “You’re not getting in my carriage smelling like that. You can walk behind.”

Al and I shared a commiserating look before we stepped behind the carriage and followed as it slowly moved toward home.