Uncle Finneus, who had been listening with marked concentration, interrupted the rabbit excitedly. “Was he investigating Don Balvor?”

Alessandro sniffed and looked down his nose at my uncle. It was rather funny, as the rabbit, even sitting, only made it up to my uncle’s chest, but I digress. “As I was about to say,” said the rabbit. “He was not investigating Don Balvor, but instead the secretary of judicial affairs, David Doherty.”

Alessandro settled back in his chair with a proud smile, as if he had made the declaration of a lifetime. “Who is David Doherty?” I asked.

Uncle Finneus spoke up before anyone else had the chance. “Given that I am the most familiar with Glueburn politics, I believe I can answer this question, Alessandro,” Turning to me, he said, “David Doherty became the secretary of judicial affairs three years ago after working as an undersecretary to the previous Secretary of Judicial Affairs for five years. I’ve met the man on two separate occasions and saw that he was like all politicians. A snake who is striving for power, without any regard for ethical or moral boundaries. While the Secretary of Judicial Affairs holds a lot of power in regard to the security of the city, I am surprised to hear he had turned to criminal acts. He did not seem like a brave enough person to do something like that. What did Albertus accuse the man of doing anyway?”

The rabbit shrugged. “If he was working with someone else on the investigation, I couldn’t find them. The killer must have taken all of Albertus’s notes and memory crystals because neither the investigators nor the wife had any other material evidence to point toward what he was investigating. I’m going solely off the conversations I had with the wife.”

“And you believe that this woman is trustworthy?” Uncle Finneus asked.

Allesandro shrugged again. “She really doesn’t have any reason to lie, does she? She thinks her husband has been murdered and she’s giving me any information to help with the investigation. There’s no reason to complicate the matter, Finneus.”

Uncle Finneus shook his head, then took another sip of his tea. “That is neither here nor there. She could very well be lying to you in order to convince someone else that her husband did not kill himself because she cannot bear the guilt and shame.

That being said, given the extent of the trafficking happening in this city, I can’t help but conclude that people in power are a part of it. So, this death is a perfect reason to investigate David Doherty and others within the government. Now, Gabriela, we know what your husband has been doing the last couple of months, would you mind filling us in on how you ended up captured?”

Gabriela nodded her head. “The orders first came from Scott Talger, an underling of Frederick Warsaw who oversees this region of the Empire. I was to investigate the auction house, Catherine’s Motley Treasures. My mission was to place them under surveillance for five weeks and investigate any oddities. Alessandro and I received our missions within a day of each other and arrived in Glueburn at the same time. We checked in with the local Society leader, a man named Joshua, who gave us an update on the political and economic landscape. Both of us had been to Glueburn before, so the meeting was short.”

“Did you give Joshua any information on either of your missions?” asked Uncle Finneus.

Gabriela nodded her head. “Of course, neither of us has many contacts within the city. A major reason the Society has a resident member in Glueburn at all is to assist us agents with information gathering. Joshua provided basic information on the death of Albertus as well as the Auction House.”

“Ah, I see. Pardon the interruption, Gabriela, please continue,” said Uncle Finneus, offering the lady a small nod in apology.

Gabriela offered a smile in reply then went back to reporting her account. “After leaving the Society, we spent the first day finding accommodations and looking over the information Joshua had provided. I cannot speak for Alessandro, but the information on the auction house was lackluster at best. It really only provided me with the addresses of the known warehouses and auctions, as well as the name of the owner and a brief bio of him.

Lacking so much information, my first task, as is standard practice, was to find a disgruntled low-level employee who would be willing to provide some information for a small fee. The entire first two weeks were spent on this task. It was only by luck, on the last day of the second week, that I was in the bar where a warehouse employee finally blew up. The man was drunk with his friends and for some reason, it was all too much for him. He started talking about how children kept crying in his dreams, and the bodies haunted him. His friends laughed it off, but it's not hard to recognize the far-off look of someone who has blood on their hands. So, at the end of the night, I left the employee I had originally been watching and followed the drunk man home. His friends had to help him, but he managed to get there in one piece. He walked in and as I spied through the window, a shadow appeared behind him. They were professionals because within ten minutes, the body had been removed, clothes had been packed, and anti-magic spells had been cast.

Given how little I knew about the shadows, it was too risky to try and follow them. So, the next day, I decided to turn my attention to the warehouse. I watched for two days and was unable to discover anything of note. Without any other recourse, I broke into the place. After bypassing security, I discovered a large number of boxes with spells that allowed oxygen to enter through a sealed container. Given I was in a warehouse that mostly dealt with artifacts, this was highly suspicious. There was a spell trigger that would go off if the lid was opened, but I managed to silence it. I opened one of the boxes and found a small elven child who had been placed in some sort of stasis, her heart rate was down to 15 beats per minute and temperature far below normal.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Gabriela withdrew a small memory crystal from inside her shirt and tossed it up into the air. It showed a small child of five or six in a bright red dress curled up inside a heavy wooden shipping box. The image only lasted a few seconds, but that was all I needed for fire and anger to rage inside.

“Monsters,” I said.

“Yes,” agreed Gabriela, who stared up at the image of the child misty-eyed. For a second, I thought she would break down crying, but instead, she sniffed and called the crystal back to herself.

“The spells placed upon the child not only kept her from waking up but also sealed her inside the box. I did not have confidence that I could free her or any of the others within a short period, so against my better judgment, I closed up the box and continued searching. Not before placing a tracking mark on the box in the hopes, I could save that little girl. I continued looking through the warehouse but did not find anything of note, aside from the fact that when comparing shipping labels of the boxes with oxygen spells placed on them, to the affidavits I found in one of the offices, the letters RXY appeared somewhere within the label.” Once again, Gabriela removed a memory crystal from her person and tossed it up into the air, showing shipping labels and the serial numbers next to them.

“I was unable to find any addresses and didn’t want to risk staying there for longer than I already had, so I left,” Gabriela sighed and ran her hands through her hair. “It was the very next day that the tracker began to move and appeared inside the auction house. I

scoped out the place and decided to sneak in which in turn led to me being captured.”

“Were you able to figure out the layout inside the auction house?” I asked.

“No,” replied Gabriela, “I was caught relatively quickly.”

“Who knew about the tracker?” asked Uncle Finneus.

“Well, I guess that would be myself, and Alessandro,” said Gabriela.

“Is it still active?” asked Uncle Finneus.

“Alle, give me your tuner. They took mine when I was captured,” said Gabriela.

“Ouch, you’re going to have a lot of paperwork for that. Do you know how much these things cost to build?” said Alessandro. He drew from his pocket what looked like a thin gold bracket with filigree that ran its circumference and handed it to his wife.

Gabriela offered him a sweet smile, “It won’t be that much for me. If I remember correctly, it is your turn to fill out my paperwork.”

“Shit,” muttered the rabbit. He glared at me as if it was all my fault.

Gabriela started to touch symbols along the bracelet’s edge before closing her eyes and muttering something under her breath. “Yep, the tracker is still active, and the box appears to still be in the auction house.

Uncle Finneus smiled, “Perfect. I believe that wraps up the meeting for the day. I have a lot of information to sift through. If you would be willing, could both of you come back tomorrow around the same time? And make sure to bring equipment for a prolonged battle, we should be ready to do something drastic by then. Oh, I almost forgot to ask. Has the Society won back the kingdom of Rotege yet?”

The rabbit shook his head, “No, they appear to be at an impasse with the duke at the moment. He was able to win over the support of most of the nobles in the country and even managed to convince five full-fledged mages to recognize his authority as the new king. The society is trying to limit the bloodshed so are trying to come up with a reasonable solution.”

Uncle Finneus laughed, “So they sent assassins then. That is a decision that may come back to bite them. I’ve met the duke a few times in passing and he seems to be rather reasonable. If they attack and cannot end his life, he will not take it kindly. He may even destroy Rotege in order to get revenge.”

“That may be helpful information, Mr. Burgeon,” said Gabriela. “I’ll make sure to pass it along to the higher-ups.”

I had planned to talk to Uncle Finneus about everything we had heard since I only had a shallow understanding of Glueburn politics, and it seemed there was more to understand before I could begin to connect any dots. After I showed Alessandro and Gabriela out the door, I returned to ask said questions, only to find my uncle staring blank-faced into the distance. It was apparent to me that he had already taken one of his magic mushrooms, and there was no point in me hanging around. I sighed, but there wasn’t much I could do.

I hadn’t eaten yet that day and wanted to go see Zara again, so I decided to go down to the bakery for lunch. It was mid-afternoon by the time I arrived. When I opened the door, I was surprised to see a packed house, with practically all of the tables filled with wealthy-looking customers. Looking around, I found a table in the corner and made my way through the maze of tables and bodies over to it. I spotted Zara on the other side of the room; I looked over and our eyes met. I waved and smiled. She offered me a big smile, then returned her attention to the customers she had been waiting upon.

I was a little disappointed to find that I was not in Zara’s section but instead the section on older woman who reminded me of my aunt. I didn’t mind too much as I was starving, and food was more important than a beautiful woman. I took it all back ten minutes later, after I had eaten some bread and Zara came walking over with a beautiful smile on her face. I swallowed my food mid-bite and grabbed a napkin.

“And here I was thinking I must have done something wrong when you didn’t come for breakfast this morning,” said Zara, winking at me to let me know she was joking.

“No, not at all. I had a wonderful time with you yesterday evening. I had to help my uncle out with some business last night and made it to my bed with the first rays of the sun shining through my window.”

Zara raised an eyebrow, “Oh, business at night? That type of business can get dangerous.”

I sighed and rubbed my chest, where I had been saved from death by the imbued clothing my uncle had given me. "You're telling me," I said.

"I was joking when I said that," said Zara. "What were you doing last night that was dangerous?"

I waved my hand, feeling like I had spilled a secret I shouldn’t have. "Maybe we can talk about that some other time."

"Oh, okay," was the only reply I received.

I paused for a second, unsure how to carry on the conversation. Zara looked behind her and groaned, though it was a good-natured exclamation, "We can talk later; I have to go take care of this table. Be back in a second." she said, offering a small smile.

I smiled back, trying my best to hide the awkwardness I felt towards the past conversation. When she turned her back, I sighed and started eating the bread again. This time, it didn’t taste nearly as good. Not yet sure what to make of the situation, I fidgeted about, watching Zara as she worked.

“My husband has tried many times, but no matter how hard you stare, you won’t be able to see underneath her clothes," said the older waitress who was now standing by my booth.

I blinked, needing a minute to register what the older waitress had just said to me. I raised my hands as if to calm her down. "No, no, I was just watching her work. I wasn’t trying to do anything like that."

The older woman put her hand on her hip. "And why not? That girl is a work of art. Even I might want to peek just to admire such beauty."

“I’m sorry, what now?” I asked.

The woman laughed. "Mr. Bartholomew, you’re going to need to step up your game if you want to win Zara’s heart. Just because she’s given you a little bit of attention, doesn’t mean she’s head over heels. Do better, young man."

With that, the woman walked away, leaving me with my mouth halfway open, and feeling rather confused and embarrassed. I looked down and found the bowl of stew the older woman had left me while she was talking her nonsense. Grabbing a spoon, I took a bite and sighed. It was a mixture of meats and fruits with just the right amount of spice. Enough to add to the dish without taking away the taste of the individual items. Instead of gulping it down, I took my time enjoying every bite.