“Good evening, officer,” the magus said. “I was just on my way down to interface with your people over the appalling attack on our chantry.”

Eresthanon knew that was a lie and his partner did, as well, but the magus had no idea they’d been spying on him for several minutes. They could use that to their advantage, if need be, though he wasn’t exactly sure what Aaliyah’s intentions were. He’d have to wait and see what strategy she adopted for the interview.

“Why don’t you set your crystal ball down on that cabinet, nice and easy, and come talk to us out in the hallway,” she replied. “Keep your hands where I can see them and don’t start speaking in tongues, okay?”

“Right you are, officer,” he said, gently laying the crystal orb on the archival cabinet and came to join them in the hallway.

“It’s Quaesitor, actually; Quaesitor Dean. And this is Tribune Eresthanon.”

The magus inclined his head slightly, though Eresthanon saw his eyes and realized the magus was doing a very quick re-evaluation of the situation. “My apologies, Quaesitor, Tribune. I would say it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance if the circumstances weren’t so dire.”

“Speaking of the circumstances, what, exactly, are you doing here, Mister… ?” Aaliyah let the question hang.

“Ah, of course, apologies again.” The magus actually gave them a slight bow at the waist. “Percival Heathcote-Scott. I came with all possible speed as soon as we had word the chantry was being assaulted but, sadly, arrived too late.”

That reinforced one suspicion Eresthanon had, but he would have to pick at it. Aaliyah was playing the interview aggressively, which meant it fell to him to take on the role of ‘good cop.’ The magus, Heathcote-Scott, had presented the opportunity to drink two beers with one mug, as the goblins said.

“It is a great travesty to have a sanctum violated, especially in such a bloody manner,” Eresthanon said. “Surely the grief your order must feel at these losses cannot be easily assuaged, but I hope our efforts to unearth the truth behind these crimes in the pursuit of justice will bring you and your fellows some small comfort.”

Heathcote-Scott gave a polite nod of thanks, but Eresthanon didn’t let the lull drag on. He needed to press for information without making the man feel like the interview was an interrogation. Since the magus clearly intended to keep information from the Vigiles before he knew they were present, a suggestion that he and Aaliyah knew less than they did might lull him into feeling a bit more at ease.

“I’m afraid our understanding of the timeline isn’t entirely precise at the moment,” Eresthanon said apologetically. “Can you tell us when you became aware of the assault? Or, if you’re aware, of how long before you were aware of it the assault began?”

Heathcote-Scott nodded, the very picture of cooperation. “About an hour and a half ago, the chantry’s overseer made us aware the building had been breached. From what they said, the assault had begun ten to fifteen minutes earlier and they were going to assist the remaining staff. We waited ten minutes in hopes of receiving further updates but, when none came, I was dispatched.”

There was valuable information about the timelines to be mined there, information that could shed light on the intruder as well as the mysterious order operating this powerful — and seemingly unknown — chantry.

The earliest first responders from the Vigiles’ Magical Response Unit had arrived at the chantry just a few minutes after the sentinel wards had detected the powerful magic energies of the chantry’s last defender’s spell of sacrifice. About the same time Delman started his sweep of the building to look for injured people in need of immediate care, Heathcote-Scott would have begun his journey. Aaliyah and Eresthanon arrived not long after and had been in the chantry for nearly an hour since.

Between the too-heavy coat, untempered accent, and the surprising resources in the chantry, Eresthanon suspected Heathcote-Scott had traveled quite some distance to get there. More distance than could reasonably be covered in such a short time without resorting to certain shortcuts. The fact he seemed to have entered the sanctum without being noticed by the vigilum within or without supported that theory.

If it could be proven, that would give the Vigiles some leverage for when the occult order behind the chantry inevitably resisted their inquiries trying to sort out the crimes that occurred below. As well as those that were likely to follow.

However, it would be nearly impossible for Eresthanon to start that line of questioning without painting himself as adversarial in the eyes of the magus and his fellows. Thankfully, Aaliyah had already introduced herself using a rather brusque demeanor, so she could press a bit without compromising the relationships they were establishing.

He gave his partner a quick look to indicate she should take the follow-up.

Even if she wasn’t following the same exact line reasoning he was, she was still an experienced investigator and could likely pursue any number of avenues springing from that response. Almost any would likely present new opportunities to pursue more information, as long as they didn’t push Heathcote-Scott into shutting them out entirely.

“You got here in barely more than an hour?” Aaliyah asked, incredulous and mildly challenging. “No offense, but you don’t seem local and we didn’t see you come in. What’s to say you’re not the intruder trying to pull a fast one on us?”

A very solid technique — if you could convince an individual of the need to establish something about themselves or their history, preferably with as much detail as possible, they risked providing previously-unknown information about other topics and could set traps for themselves if they were evasive or deceitful.

It also provided Eresthanon the opportunity to jump in and soften the blow, reaffirming their relationship and leaving the magus unsure of their footing with so many quick reversals.

“I hope you will be understanding of our position, magus,” he began. “The Vigiles Creaturae doesn’t make a habit of asking individuals for their patents, provenance, or papers as tracking the comings and goings of individuals is outside the mandate of the Four Pillars. Given the severity of the situation and your sudden appearance, however, it would be remiss of us not to exercise due caution on the scene of such an atrocity.”

“Don’t play nice with the guy, Tribune,” Aaliyah said. “He shows up out of nowhere at the scene of a massacre and you’re okay just taking his word about how he got here?”

Eresthanon gave the magus a considering look before answering. “I am, if it is given freely. A magi’s word is a powerful thing and would not be broken lightly.”

“Of- of course,” Heathcote-Scott replied. “I made my way here via portal. It is, among other things in our keeping, a legacy of the ancient order from which our society is derived.”

That confirmed several of Eresthanon’s suspicions and would almost certainly give them some degree of leverage over this order. Teleportation was among the most fiendishly complex forms of magic and had only grown more so as humanity turned away from magic in favor of science, which argued that teleportation bordered on the impossible.

A fixed, semi-permanent artifact was the least prohibitive method to accomplish it. Such a device could be linked to one or more others, creating a kind of conduit network that would form a passage between them. Even those were not without many limitations, one of which would explain why it had taken so long to open each end and, even then, only allow one person to travel through the portal.

The Vigiles Creaturae did require the registration of such devices within their sphere of influence, even if they didn’t require notification of their use. Many private portals circumvented the practical problems involved by cheating, in a way, and they risked violating — or outright violated — several of the Pillars the Vigiles enforced.

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For one thing, the aetheric draw of portals was wildly inefficient, requiring immense power reserves. This led to regular violations of the Second Pillars: Thy essentia is thine own.

Entire cottage industries had found success forming the aetherium crystals used to power portals in elven strongholds and it was said that peace between dwarven kingdoms and other chthonic races — particularly goblins and orcs — was only possible because of the long-standing collaboration on aether-refinement processes with the gnomes, who preferred an accord against warfare.

Those without similar resources often turned to aether-gathering arrays, which would siphon the aether not just from the ends of each conduit, but along its path. These methods almost invariably wound up drawing their power from sources belonging to or overseen by others.

The second common violation was in the mechanics of the magic involved in any given portal. Teleportation and translocation through space was complex, cumbersome, and, of course, inefficient. Corners could be cut by turning to another dimension — time. Using magic to dilate and compress time at the ends and along the route between made the portals more transportation than teleportation, but the outcome was basically the same.

It wasn’t that all temporal magic was outlawed, but the litmus test for a violation of the Fourth Pillar — Time is inviolable. — was generally how contained the magic was, in every sense. Because this method of connecting portals was not sufficiently limited in scope or effect, it was almost always criminal.

Given the resources and likely skill of the magi in the secretive order behind this chantry — and Heathcote-Scott’s claim it was a relic from an older time — the portal would presumably not be in violation of the Pillars. It was, however, most certainly not registered with the Vigiles.

At least, not the one in this chantry. If it were, this chantry would have been a marginally known quantity and one of the MRU officers outside would have mentioned there was a functioning portal inside the potentially-active crime scene. That gave the vigilum some small measure of leverage and possibly a good deal more, depending on how they used it.

There would be time for that later. For now, they had more pressing concerns.

“Very good, thank you,” Eresthanon replied. “Now, if I might inquire — for all of our peace of mind — whether you have reason to believe the intruder has left your order’s chantry.”

The mage nodded. “I do; we have limited monitoring instruments for the chantry in the portal chamber. They can’t provide much information, but they do track use of exterior doors. The front entrance was opened — and never closed — just prior the beginning of the attack, and a rear access door was opened and closed a little less than thirty minutes later.”

“No chance it could’ve been someone else? One of your people or something?” Aaliyah asked.

“Very little,” Heathcote-Scott replied. “Only staff are permitted on the premises after nine o’clock without special dispensation and none are currently granted.”

According to that timeline, the intruder gained entry to the building, killed six people and two advanced constructs, breached the maze, got through the threefold door, obtained at least one prize, and made their way back out all in roughly half an hour. That was a feat so impressive as to strain credulity.

There were entities in the world who could have done it, with ease even, but very few of them would have bothered, even fewer would have done it so messily or solely to recover a simple book, and most of that small number would have sent agents or intermediaries who weren’t nearly so powerful. The whole thing raised a new suspicion in Eresthanon’s mind, one he’d have to raise with Aaliyah when they had a chance to discuss their theories.

“I can buy that,” Aaliyah said begrudgingly. She took out a small notebook and pen and flipped it open. “Just for our records, are you willing to give us the name of this chantry and your order?”

Heathcote-Scott hesitated at that. His order was obviously very secretive and had gone to great lengths to keep their identity — and presence in New York — concealed. He had to give them something, so he was likely weighing whether it was worth the risk of being deceitful and having that revealed later. After all, the Vigiles knew about them now, so the best his order could hope for was to mitigate the damage moving forward.

“We are the Ordo Susurrat Solis, or the Whispering Dawn, and this place is Novum Sidus, or New Star Chantry,” he finally offered. “The roots of our order, as you can imagine, reach deeply into the bloody soil of history and we prefer not to be associated with the mistakes of our forebears.”

Whether that was a lie or not was something the Vigiles would have to dig into in the future, but it was enough for now. It also offered a segue into another valuable line of questioning.

“Would any of your forebears’ enemies move against you in this fashion?” Eresthanon asked, then added. “If they were aware of your roots, of course.”

Heathcote-Scott laughed softly at that. “Many if not most, I imagine, hence our secrecy. We are relatively confident very few are, however.”

Aaliyah blew air through her lips mockingly. “Pfft. How can you be so sure nobody knows who you are?”

“Did you?” Heathcote-Scott replied, raising an eyebrow at her.

Although Eresthanon was confident his partner was pushing to utilize her role as the ‘bad cop,’ he also knew she was touchy and did not respond well to condescension. Better he exploit the opportunity she’d created before she decided to respond.

“It would help us to know who might have reason to breach your order’s sanctum in such an egregious manner,” Eresthanon offered, in his most eminently reasonable fashion. “I’m sure the Quaesitor, after so long a career in law enforcement, is merely dubious at the idea that these violations were without motive.”

Again, Eresthanon paused a moment to let the magus form conclusions of his own, but not so long he could respond. “If the attack was not a matter of vengeance, we must ask ourselves why someone went to such lengths to enter this chantry — and especially to break into this highly protected area — only to leave the premises a few minutes later.”

“Ah, the motive,” Heathcote-Scott said. “Well, yes, I can see how that would help you in the pursuit of this culprit.”

The magus let his statement trail off. Eresthanon was willing to wait, using the weight of a prolonged silence to pressure the man to speak and offer more information. Heathcote-Scott didn’t know how long they’d been following him through the maze, so this was another opportunity to gain leverage if they could catch him being evasive.

Aaliyah, on the other hand, was only willing to let the silence build for about thirty seconds. She made eye contact with Eresthanon before she spoke, so he was confident her demeanor was a tactic, but he still thought she came on a little strong. This was an interview, after all, and with the ostensible victim, not an interrogation. Still, she startled Heathcote-Scott when she finally broke the silence.

“A motive!” she blurted, leaning in a little too close to the magus to be polite. “Gee, that sure would be helpful to us solving all those murders downstairs.”

A human probably wouldn’t have noticed, but Eresthanon saw Heathcote-Scott swallow; hard.

“I believe I can offer some illumination on that matter,” he said, hesitating only slightly. “The, er, exclamation you heard from me earlier was at the discovery of something missing. Something that was, er, taken.”

“And what might that be?” Aaliyah asked, still uncomfortably close to the sorcerer.

“A- a book,” he said. “A very old and valuable grimoire.”

Eresthanon stepped in, figuratively, and Aaliyah stepped back, literally, both with the intention of giving the magus some space so he might feel more comfortable answering.

“While the loss must sting, magus, if you could tell us the name and subject matter, it might go a long way in helping us find the party or parties responsible and, perhaps, even recovering it.”

“You must understand if I am hesitant to speak of this,” Heathcote-Scott said. “We inherited the book from a Grand Master quite some time ago, more than a century at least. It was bequeathed to the order along with a number of other volumes as part of his estate. By the time we realized what it was — and what was likely involved in its acquisition — we had divorced ourselves from the legacy of our predecessors as much as we could. We did not want to renew the association or be seen as complicit in whatever misdeeds had been carried out to procure it.”

“What’s the name of the book, buddy, and why would you be so worried about how your order got its grubby little mitts on it?” Aaliyah asked, leaning into the magus’s personal space again.

“Its title is The Sleeping Dragon and I believe there is no way it left the hands of the Drakon save by murder,” Heathcote-Scott admitted. “A rather good deal of it, I suspect.”