Aaliyah crossed the office to her desk. “Listen, if you want to get moist with the local flora, do it on your time, pal. I’ve got shit to do. I’m obligated to drag you along when I do it, now, but that’s not a pass to waste my time.”

She sat down in the large chair behind the equally large desk. The desk was richly polished wood and topped with gleaming granite inlays. It would have made her seem ostentatious if Eresthanon hadn’t seen that the desks in the other offices were even more ornate. She gestured for Eresthanon to take a seat in one of the chairs across from her, which he did.

“My apologies, Quaesitor Dean. I was only trying to be friendly. I haven't honestly given much thought to intimacy with anyone, nymph of ivy or otherwise. In fact, I confess myself to be somewhat surprised to find myself with sex or gender, at all, as it’s quite rare among my people.”

Aaliyah leaned forward in her chair, interest clearing much of the pique from her expression. “For real?”

The elf nodded. “Oh yes, quite. Elves are generally androgynous and asexual, although we are rarely aromantic or averse to intimacy. It isn’t uncommon, if we choose to live among others, to adopt such things so we may better fit in and experience the world in new ways, but the nature of how we choose these lives leaves us without the chance to form such expectations until we are experiencing them in situ, as it were.”

“So you don’t know whether you’ll be male, female, masc, femme, or anything relating to it before you wake up a new person, or however that works?”

“We likely have some idea when we are at the end of a Cycle as such things are generally stable between an individual’s lived experiences,” Eresthanon said. “It’s when we awaken that we’ll have no frame of reference until we’ve accumulated some sense of ourselves and our perception of the world. So, being just a few hours into this Cycle, I can’t say what, if anything, is sexually appealing to me.”

Aaliyah leaned back in her chair again, whistling low. “Maybe you should fuck that shrubbery.”

Eresthanon tilted his head to acknowledge the sentiment. “Perhaps I should and mayhaps I will; I can’t yet say. But I meant what I said: I was only trying to be friendly.”

“Friendly and five dollars will get you a handjob from someone who gives a shit, buddy. To business.” Aaliyah paused for a moment to snicker at her own turn of phrase, then continued. “Diddlin’ and Pest were gloating over that bullshit case because we ain’t had many lately.”

“Diddling and Pest?”

Aaliyah flapped her hand at Eresthanon in response. “Shush up; I’m educating. Anyways, there’s four detective pairs in the squad — five now I’m stuck with you — and we each work five to ten cases a year. Each case usually takes a couple months and there’s not as much overlap between them as you’d see on the job in a normie agency.”

The math on that was simple — each case took a little over a month to resolve one way or another. Considering the severity of the issues Eresthanon believed the squad handled, that was quite a feat.

“Six weeks per case on average. That is a commendable turnaround time,” he said.

“It ain’t nothing,” Aaliyah acknowledged. “That’s not all we do, though. One unit is assigned to catastrophe-tracing for six months at a time. That means going out and figuring out how some disaster or another happened or almost happened or happened then un-happened or whatever.”

That was something of a bombshell, especially once you factored in all the implications. His partner hadn’t been exaggerating when she said they handled major cases if they were tracking catastrophes, both resolved and prevented.

It wasn’t common knowledge — even among the Creaturae — but it was far from a rare occurrence for some calamity to threaten regions, populations, the planet, or all of time and space. Magical plagues, undead uprisings, potential apocalypses, and the like were a semi-regular danger in the praeternatural world.

There were plenty of theories about why world-shaking dooms were commonplace enough they had practically become a nuisance, but the very fact that they were essentially little more than a nuisance meant people didn’t pay them much attention. Being exposed to a world of magic and myth didn’t stop people from growing blasé or complacent, even about astonishing things.

Stopping those threats was usually handled by whomever happened to come across them and whatever help they could enlist. Usually, some hapless farmhand or plucky band of misfits stumbled onto a burgeoning cosmic horror by happenstance, then figured out how to banish the rogue god, cure the incurable cursèd pestilence, or put the square artifact in the round hole — assuming they didn’t just stick a magic sword in it and call it a day.

Such heroic feats of derring-do didn’t often include figuring out how or why the problem arose in the first place, given the tendency of the afore-mentioned intrepid heroes to solve the problem with wanton violence then ransack their surroundings looking for treasure.

From what Aaliyah had just said, the Vigiles Creaturae made figuring that out part of their mandate. It also heavily suggested the Vigiles did something about those catastrophes. The Vigiles taking a role in those situations wasn’t something they were known to do and, before Aaliyah had mentioned it, Eresthanon wouldn’t have been able to even call it a rumor.

Aaliyah continued. “You’d think that’d be a cush job, but it’s probably the biggest pain in the ass we have to deal with. There’s always some mystic bullshit going on and personally I think it’s a trick the universe plays just to make sure you can’t fix traffic jams. Each pairing catches assignments round-robin. Ya with me so far?”

Eresthanon nodded.

“So, like you said, six weeks to close a case on average and we rarely work more than one case at a time. Can you guess how long ago I closed my last case? Go on, guess. Two months. Vanillin and Armrest have been sitting around almost twice as long waiting on a case. Not for nothing, but I’d rather get a Pap smear from Edward Scissorhands than spend everyday twiddling my thumbs in the same place as those douchers.”

“That’s, uh, particularly vivid imagery.”

Aaliyah curled a lip at him, but didn’t interrupt her flow now that she’d gotten going.

“As much as any cop will claim they hope for less crime, that’s just something you say so you don’t look like an asshole. We live for the chase, for finding the bad guy and locking him away in a hole. But whether there’s less crime or not isn’t the issue; here’s the issue — why is there less crime?”

She paused long enough for Eresthanon to think the question hadn’t been rhetorical, but as soon as he opened his mouth to respond, she plowed right on with her monologue.

“I don’t think there’s been some kind of major cultural shift that’s caused crime — and especially major crime — to take a nosedive, and I don’t think the VC has suddenly turned incompetent at sniffing that bullshit out. Which means there’s a good chance there’s something specific or nefarious behind it.”

Eresthanon pursed his lips. It was an interesting theory and Aaliyah had more experience with this kind of thing than he did. Or so he assumed. Their partnership was also brand new and she didn’t seem too pleased about that, which made keeping an open mind a good strategy to ingratiate himself even if she turned out to be way off base.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

“Any idea what it could be?” he asked.

“Listen, I’ve been dealing with dirtbags all my life, personally and professionally. A grand conspiracy or some shadowy overlord might be more likely on this side of weird, but if I had to put money on it? I’d say that rats will sense something’s about to rock the boat before the passengers do. I think something is about to go down — something big — and it’s the kind of thing mooks who pay attention to which way the wind’s blowing will smell even if they don’t realize they’re sniffing the breeze. You still with me?”

The young woman before him was experienced, cunning, and savvy, so Eresthanon gave her theory serious consideration. She was right that their hidden world was more likely to have a shadowy conspiracy behind unseemly doings, but also right that such conspiracies were generally limited in scope. That was due, in no small part, to one of the most effective sweeping conspiracies out there — the Vigiles Creaturae itself — actively trying to thwart them.

It was also true that those stuck in the muck, desperately struggling to eke out some kind of comfort in a world that offered them no favors, tended to have a strong sense of things that could disrupt or derail their meager plans. Barring divination, oracles, and prophecy, the instincts of those more often at the mercy of fate than others were generally a good measuring stick of oncoming trouble, as long as it was within their element.

Perhaps the most compelling factor in support of her idea, however, was Eresthanon’s own feelings of an impending hazard. Whatever the source, his sense of it was of a storm, looming in the distance and rapidly drawing closer. He suspected the purpose of his Renewal and placement in the Vigiles were connected to this sense but couldn’t make a guess beyond that; it was considered extremely poor form to look backwards in a new Cycle.

“I am still with you, Quaesitor. What do you plan to do?”

“Like I said, I been dealing with dirtbags my whole life, personally and professionally. I say we go grab a couple of those bags, shake ‘em around, and see what kinda dirt falls out.”

“A shakedown?”

“More like motivated intelligence gathering,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve got some contacts I can chat with who might be inclined to give me a head’s up. If they don’t come through, I know some other vermin who will go running if I rattle their bushes and probably lead us where we need to go.”

Aaliyah stood up, pulled on the windbreaker that had been draped over her chair, and rubbed her hands together eagerly. “First stop is about a mile uptown. Should we walk, drive, or take the train?”

Eresthanon stood as well, smiling slightly at Aaliyah’s test. Her accent and attitude were already dead giveaways, but nothing outed a New Yorker like a snide little pop quiz to determine how much of a New Yorker someone else was. He would be best served making it clear to her that he knew the city, even if he didn’t know the city because of his Renewal. If he didn’t, he could look forward to an endless barrage of comments about transplants and other nativist jabs, not to mention additional quizzing to put him on the spot. Better yet, he had to make it clear he knew what she was doing.

“I could talk about traffic at this time of day or ask about the specific neighborhood of our destination, but that would be overlooking two considerations of much greater significance: would we be using the Byways if we drove and, if not, then my answer would depend on the rest of our itinerary.”

Aaliyah clapped him on the shoulder. “Not really fair grilling you when you’re only like three hours old, huh? Forget about it. We’re going up to Tribeca. After that we’ll have a few hours to break for dinner.”

“Then we walk.”

“We walk!” Aaliyah said, and opened the door of her office for him.

They had to pass through the Vigiles lobby to switch elevators so they could access the ground floor of the main building and, thus, the street. On their way through, the receptionist tried to engage with them in his usual saucy, flamboyant style.

Aaliyah told him to shove a part of himself into another part of himself that Eresthanon didn’t think the young human could accomplish without being a most accomplished sorcerer with a most peculiar mystical specialization. The young man laughed the suggestion off, saying he would if he could and bidding them farewell with a wink.

Out on the street, their route through the city wasn’t the most direct, but it had several interesting landmarks along the way. They passed by the edge of the World Trade Center, the Woolworth’s building, and City Hall, which required them to double back on themselves for a couple blocks. Eresthanon didn’t make a thing out of it; he half suspected she’d chosen the route as another test, perhaps looking for signs of tourist behavior.

Eresthanon made a point not to raise his head even slightly to gaze appreciatively upwards as they strolled among some of the most famous skyscrapers in the world. He wanted to take the city in from his new perspective and he was primed for some sightseeing by his drive down the FDR, but he thought better of it.

He had weighed the risks of rubbernecking like an overcooked chicken and simply flicking his chin if Aaliyah gave him any guff and thought it would be unnecessarily provocative. If one does not start anything, then nothing shall come to pass, as the saying goes. Or something like that, he was pretty sure.

All told, the walk took about half an hour as they strolled through Downtown, not taking their time to rush. Well, they didn’t rush any more than the average person on the streets of New York who didn’t want to get bulldozed by people who had neither the time nor patience for gawkers and slow walkers.

Finally, they crossed Walker Street on 6th Avenue and came right up to the tiny, misshapen island of green that was Tribeca Park. Aaliyah stopped at the center of the park, taking a moment to lean against the lamppost that marked where Walker turned into Beach Street.

“The guy we’re going to see is a real scumbag,” she said. “I wanted to give you a head’s up about that. When he puts his mind to it he can come off as respectable and even charming, so don’t get suckered by the nice guy act, okay?”

Before Eresthanon could do more than nod, Aaliyah had pushed off the lamppost and was crossing the street again, down West Broadway, this time. Eresthanon wasn’t sure if she was screwing with him by doing another double-back, but their destination was the second door from the corner, so it seemed she knew what she was about.

From the minimalist facade and small tables out front, Eresthanon guessed it was a bar or cafe. A full-service restaurant was a possibility, but he didn’t get that feeling from it. The tables, chairs, and storefront were all made of timber stained so dark it was almost black, including the window frames. The door was a thick slab of wood but lighter and with grain that showed more clearly. It had a porthole window in the center. Even the metal housing for the roll-down security grille had been covered in matching wood panels. Only the hanging sign, jutting out over the door, was made of metal, and that kept to the minimalistic design of the place. It was unadorned by anything but the business’s name and read, simply, “Anywhere.”

Inside, Eresthanon found himself in a bar with very little light; it reached beyond dim and started to touch on real darkness. The building faced west, but two small trees out front and taller buildings across the street filtered the evening light coming through the windows. Other than a few lamps hanging over a huge chalkboard menu behind the bar, the place was lit only by candles and small oil lamps on the tables. The menu only listed wine and beer, though with a great deal of variety.

Eresthanon’s eyes adapted to the light conditions immediately, so he was prepared to wait a few seconds for Aaliyah’s to acclimate. She strode through the murk without a moment’s hesitation, moving through the bar so quickly that Eresthanon barely had time to register the burly orc tending the bar. The orc was leaning on his elbows and quietly — but obviously — flirting with one of the customers. Was that a Scottish accent Eresthanon was hearing?

As he followed Aaliyah deeper into the bar, he tried to reorient his senses to let him see the orc’s illusory disguise. It was so weak Eresthanon could barely detect it, so weak he couldn’t be sure the orc even was disguised by an enchantment. With the bar so close to the door and the large windows in the front, that was highly unlikely. Even with the dim lighting, there was no way someone would flout the Third Pillar so brazenly. Right?

Plus, it was even less likely Aaliyah would let it slide without comment. She might not be an uptight, straight-laced rulemonger, but Eresthanon hadn’t gotten the impression she was the kind to be derelict in her duty. He decided to follow her lead on this; she knew the lay of the land and it was literally his first day on the job.

Besides, his suspicion could be colored by the long, ugly history of conflict between his people and orcs. What if he’d been a fierce bigot against the tribal peoples in his last Cycle and that was influencing him? From what he knew of the Rite of Renewal, nothing so overt from his previous personality should be filtering through, but it was always a risk with deeply ingrained, powerful emotions.

The pair of detectives continued deeper into the wine bar, passing a few more people sitting at the bar and a handful of small groups in booths along the wall, before finally coming to the booth farthest back in the room. This booth was completely unlit, lacking a lamp or candle on or above the table.

Aaliyah flopped unceremoniously onto the bench, leaving Eresthanon to stand beside it, looking down at the booth’s other occupant — a goblin.