Wilke was more than willing to drive the cart for Rin, Marin, and Chai. He had half expected Chai to offer to sit next to him; really, all the mages enjoyed being exposed to open air, and being able to sense small bits of what goes on in distant places. But Chai, mysteriously, had just winked at him, and gone to sit with the two women.

Anyone else and Wilke might have understood; Marin was quite easy to get close to, and Rin had a dangerous kind of beauty to her, but he still thought of Chai as being too addled to enjoy the company of women, especially under the circumstances. Perhaps that was, in part, an act. Or more likely, perhaps the wink was a tease, and Chai just preferred the more comfortable bench seat inside.

In either case, Wilke ended up feeling a bit exposed, managing the two-horse team. He would have preferred someone else there to constantly monitor for threats, while he focused on holding air shields for himself and the horses and driving the cart. He also would have preferred company, someone to talk with, to keep his mind from getting too caught up in the repetitive spell work.

Still, the horse team made good time to the Egrethore estate. It was gated, of course, but the guards did not resist when he ordered them--in the name of the Order, no less--to permit passage. Wilke could convince himself that they looked resigned.

Not that he had any doubt, at this point, that he was in the right place.

He still had the small copper vial with Melth’s blood, but it was no longer viable. He’d tried, before they left, but the kind of divination he’d used tended to disrupt the thin connection between the blood everything he might wish to target. This close, when he put a hand on the vial, he could feel a faint pull towards the mansion… but that might also be his imagination. It was hard to tell.

Pulling up in front of the mansion, he cast his senses out. It wasn’t easy, unless he was willing to be very intrusive. His wind senses wouldn’t pick anything up past the walls of the building; his earth and water senses wouldn’t function unless he made magical contact with a suitable conduit. Most of his other senses required previous magical contact with something, and the only thing he had any connection to was Melth’s blood.

But void senses…

He was no good with the void sense, because he wasn’t really an all ‘rounder. Those senses required a careful balance of one’s internal energies, and especially now, having just spent hours holding wind shields, he was not what anyone would call in balance. Chai, just inside the cabin, would do much better, but even if he wasn’t half void-sick, he would more likely act on what he sensed than describe it. Void senses were not bound by domain rules, but unless you kept that balance almost perfect, they were extremely cloudy.

His connection to the blood helped. The yellow essence he had sent through the blood sample remained, and resonated with him now. But the blood was contained in a few rooms, below ground on one end of the building, and didn’t give him any real insight into the rest of the house.

What he did sense almost immediately was that the house was littered with hidden passages, and Melth’s blood--which had mostly been cleaned up--was below ground. All that told him the place where Melth’s body was hidden was probably not easily accessible.

“You look busy.” Rin was waiting in front of him. She, like him, was now wearing the vest that marked her as an official investigator of the Order. It had not stopped Melth and Nina from being killed, but it was an important thing to wear when intruding on official business.

“Lot of secrets in this place.” Wilke let her take the reins and tie up the horses. “Has Chai said anything?”

“Nothing useful.”

Wilke hopped down and opened up the carriage. Chai and Marin still sat inside, Chai looking like he was… Wilke found that words failed him. Whatever the other man was sensing, he was bordering on being overwhelmed.

“Alright, brother. Any advice?” Wilke smiled gently at Marin, but she only looked worried. Likely, she was worried for the man’s sanity, or safety. Whatever was coming, Wilke fully intended to walk out with one or two grisly, week-old corpses, and that was hard on the sanity of normal people, let alone those with sensitive magical senses.

“Advise is the same.” Chai paused. “If you see the jackal girl, slap her. If you find a piece of paper left behind, burn it. Rin will know.”

That made no sense whatsoever to Wilke, and he smiled brightly to hide it. It almost sounded like he was reading the future, but more likely, he was watching the whole scene play out from a perspective he could not even imagine. So he addressed Marin instead. “What do you think? You coming, or staying?”

“Staying, for now. If Chai comes up with any last-minute advice… the breadth of my skills means I am most useful to him.” She tossed him an emblem, which Wilke recognized as a signalling beacon. “Keep that next to your skin, somewhere. If it gets hot, you are in danger. If it gets cold, we need to talk immediately. Don’t ignore it.”

“Got it.” Wilke closed the carriage and moved up towards the entrance, where Rin was waiting with the guards. From her posture, she had sent a message along to the masters of the house… and would soon hear back. Idly, he fingered the beacon, then with a quick tug of magic, slid it up his sleeve, until he caught it in the pit of his shoulder. Not dignified, perhaps, but it would do for now, as long as he didn’t forget and drop it.

Just as he stepped up, the door opened, and a servant appeared. “The honored inspectors of the Order are expected. Lord Amon wishes to say that he will answer your summons in person soon, however, he begs you to accept some small delay. It turns out that recently, a betrayal has occurred within his house, and it has cost him dearly. He--”

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“Pardon,” said Rin with a fair amount of impatience. “The Lord of the house will meet with us now.”

“Ah…” the servant paused. “I was unclear. The Lord will meet with you within the hour. Currently, he is receiving medical attention. He was… still is wounded.”

Wilke and Rin both studied the servant. Wilke was no truth-reader, but this servant didn’t seem evasive. He spent half a moment wishing that Erron was here instead of at the capital, but after a moment, he and Rin traded glances and nodded at each other.

“Fine,” said Rin. “However, we insist on access to the public areas of the house. You may deny us access to rooms, but not hallways.”

“I…” Now the servant was clearly nervous. “I am in no position to either accept or reject such an offer. Please allow me only a moment to speak with… the heads of the house.”

“Make it quick.” Rin gestured for Wilke to step away from the house, and the two of them stepped back just enough to make eavesdropping harder.

“Sounds like he has someone to blame,” said Wilke. “But is it the truth?”

“That’s not important right now. Wilke, you need to understand something.” Rin turned her back on the house and pulled a small rectangle of stiff paper, no bigger than her palm, seemingly out of nowhere. “If you see a thing like this, don’t touch it. The glyphs will vary. But you remember what Chai said. They are more dangerous than they look.”

“He just now gave me some advice along those lines, except he said to burn it.” Wilke studied her hand with his senses. If anything, it seemed like a lie to call it paper; it felt different in structure, and it was packed full of energy, certainly more than paper ought to have. He knew of some people who stored spells on paper scrolls for later, but this was both too small and too densely packed for that. Every sense he had told him that it was a purpose-built magical tool.

Rin’s face soured. “If he said to, then do it. But know that will activate it.”

“Ah.” Wilke’s face clouded. “That explains… a few things.”

“But it leaves extremely important questions unanswered. These are very specific tools, Wilke. Few people have them. Whoever you find in this house--” Rin paused as the doors reopened.

The servant stood there. “The master of the house has no objections. However, we would request that all representatives of the Order meet with him together, in one meeting. Lord Amon is in no condition to have multiple meetings today.”

“Fine.” Wilke, sensing that Rin was caught off-guard, stepped in before the silence could be awkward. “I assume you will insist on an escort…?”

“We have one waiting.” The servant pulled the double doors completely open, revealing four guards--each, as Torit had suggested, bearing light crossbows. More frightening, however, was their armor; the chainmail on the house guards, unlike those outside, was clearly made of magi-metal. The look of it was hard to describe only in terms of color; magi-metal had a kind of patterned shining texture that was difficult to replicate with mundane materials. It could have been concealed with paint or worn under a cloth uniform, but it was left glittering slightly in the early afternoon sun.

Magi-metal was hard enough to forge into simple things like swords. Wilke had never heard of magi-metal chainmail. Even if it was simply copper Adamant, which was the most likely, the forging techniques would have to be very involved. To have four full sets on display was quite a display of power.

Still, he forced a fake cheer and patted Rin on the shoulder. As he hoped, the slightly condescending nature of the gesture grated on her, pulling her back to the moment, and he offered a meaningful, fake smile to her, and said, “Shall we go, then?”

“Yes, of course.” Rin may have had little in the way of a poker face, but she had no trouble with charging head-first into trouble. In moments, in spite of the slightly intimidated look on her face, she had marched right up to the doors, then stopped just inside. “When it’s time for the audience, do let us know in advance, and we will bring the others. They… are resting, for the moment.”

“Of course.” The servant bowed.

Once fully inside the house, Rin turned to Wilke. “You lead.”

Wilke nodded, already pushing as hard as he could on his Void sense. Foggy though it might have been, void offered perspective that the individual senses didn’t, giving him a sense of exactly where things were in space. And that led him left, to the end of the hall, and down a set of stairs.

The guards must have exchanged looks or shown some hint of resistance, because he could hear Rin speaking sharply to them, but focusing on his sense left him little mental room for hearing exactly what she said. What had seemed clear from other angles suddenly faded as he got closer. Pushing harder didn’t make it easier, which meant… what? That the entrance was disguised?

At the base of the stairs, trying to recall exactly what he’d seen, he discovered that yes, the traces of blood he still sensed were just on the other side of a brick wall, in a hidden corridor so narrow that anyone slightly larger than average--like Erron--would have some trouble getting through it.

He didn’t care much, though. Yes, he was here to look for signs of the murdered investigators. But he also hadn’t forgotten the mission they were on, either, and his senses told him that down here he would find traces of--

In his armpit, the glyph flashed hot, but only for a moment. Along with it came a thought: One thing at a time. He frowned, knowing that ahead was…

Hot meant danger. Right. One thing at a time, and the weakness of the Egrethore group was…

Wilke spent a moment collecting his thoughts, then turned back to Rin, and offered a fake smile. “Maybe I was mistaken.” He traced his steps back up to the next floor, then started to search out a staircase up.

Whatever he was searching for, he suddenly got a sick feeling that this investigation was going to get complicated before he got any answers. And, in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but remember hearing Chai’s admonition during the planning session: A war still might happen.

He had to find… what had Chai said? A jackal woman? Or a piece of paper she had left behind. That, or he had to find an excuse to prove what he already knew. Or else, soon, they would be back to leaning heavily on their jurisdiction as Order investigators to force some kind of action through the nation’s King.

Wilke kept a polite smile on his face and tried to look like he knew what he was doing as he aimlessly searched the house.