At least the boss gave her this night off, and she stayed home and slept in her comfortable bed, bidding a final farewell to the delicious mattress that helped her fall asleep.

Louise and Kimer managed to find time in their own tasks and found her sprawled on the floor in front of the sofa where the huge rug lay. She was blowing on a piece of paper to keep it in the air, but it kept falling to the sides, and she had to start over. She didn’t bother to keep it a secret that Gwenda would be busy day and night at the base and said she wouldn’t be home for a few days.

Much as Gwenda’s dismay, both wanted details, and she almost kicked them away and went to sleep, but she answered all their questions. Before she realized it, her body no longer functioned, and she left her friends talking to themselves as she passed out, still on the floor. She woke up in her bed, soft and warm, and mentally thanked her friends before closing her eyes again and relishing a little more time. Five second later, she grumbled and got up.

And now Gwenda was walking down the road with suitcase in her hands, one in each. She had left her beige button-up coat drying at the back of the house and grabbed it this morning. She encountered Louise along the way and wondered how much time this woman had off to be strolling around the Capital.

— I met Trytan today. — Louise suddenly remarked.

Gwenda pretended not to care when she replied:

— Did you run away before he could say hello?

Louise forced a laugh.

— Smartass.

Gwenda smiled. The braid was brushing against her back as she walked.

— He asked about you — Louise continued — I told him you were too busy with work and...

— What did you say? — Gwenda looked at her, and Louise raised an eyebrow, knowing what to expect — I’ll give you three reasons why you shouldn’t mention my whereabouts and what I’m doing. Letter A, my work is confidential, anything related to the wall, and you shouldn’t say anything either.

— I didn’t say... — Louise rolled her eyes.

— B, Trytan is only interested in sex, from my calculations; C, I don’t want my work to be of interest to him. He’ll look for someone else to cater to his needs if he thinks I’m just working. And in that case, I’ll be too busy at the moment to even pick someone up.

What was supposed to be don’t tell anyone about my whereabouts became don’t tell Trytan about my whereabouts.

Yes, Trytan might show that he might want more, but in the end...

Louise huffed.

— Your hobbies are still very different from the normal people.

— That’s because in your mind, dancing at parties and getting drunk is a big advancement in your career and life. Cool.

— At least in the drinking part, you’re badass, you’re lacking the rest. Want me to teach you, agent?

Gwenda almost rolled her eyes.

— It’s not my really thing, Lou.

No one said anything else.

He friend knew that Gwenda had stopped with that nonsense when she fled the Capital with nothing, just her and her shadow out of reach of the king’s officials. This king who hunted her died, and the prayers seemed to have been heard. Then she learned that the only son had taken power, but still didn’t dare to return for a few years.

People judged her without knowing. Gwenda spent good times having fun until everything slipped through her fingers like water. It was ice melting, and she hadn’t noticed while enjoying the fun. The guilt soon hit her, and nothing could take it away, making it a part of her forever. Perhaps she would never feel free from this feeling that as eating her away more and more.

They didn’t see the snowball forming, that was he truth. But it led to what it led to, and now Gwenda knew there was no turning back.

The fact was that they considered her someone outside of society, as if her friends were limited, and she didn’t venture much behind man to satisfy herself. She was fine like this marking other down their own conclusions and letting them see how far it would all go. One way or another, it would end, Gwenda would shut mouths that judged how she really was, even though they had never spoken to her enough to know anything about what she went through. They were idiots. And they would remain so until she forgot them.

They must have seen her journey out of the Capital and them back. They might have believed she returned just because she was lost and regretted it, or some shit like that.

Hearing lies coming from filthy mouths was so...

Her friend hooked her arm with Gwenda’s, and the two didn’t say anything else for the rest of the way. The itch in Gwenda’s spine started again, and deep in her mind, a black flame ignited.

----------------------------------------

She threw the suitcase on the ground, near a shelf of old files. It was painful to walk past everyone, who didn’t need to be there today, with two full suitcases. Gwenda’s unease was constant, and she couldn’t wait to find an end to it. Darcy stopped her on the way and pulled her into a conversation about the wall case, warning that it would be faster and easier that way. Well... she warned rudely, but she warned. But Gwenda had already understood, no matter how nonsensical it seemed.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Ryxer arrived later and placed the suitcase on the other side of the room, seeming to want to keep his distance. Gwenda felt better that way.

— Have you investigated previous cases related to the wall? — Ryxer asked.

— No. And I don’t think it’ll help. The wall has always remained intact, nothing out of place in such as a... clear manner like this case. No sensible mystic dares to venture into the wall because of the magic.

— What if the mystic doesn’t have magic?

— Impossible — She retorted — Mystics always have magic. Their healing alone is a form of magic. If soldiers were to shoot them with an arrow, they could die in seconds. Their speed is a magic that diminishes as they approach Carsany.

— Did the fairies say anything?

Gwenda looked at him. She forgot that Ryxer knew almost nothing about the case and that she should tell him what she had discovered. It would be easier to just give him the report she had prepared, but that would go against her instincts. Ryxer would make his own report with what he found, and then they could see if anything matched. They didn’t need to work literally together.

— The fairies are defending someone who helped them. They mentioned a contract and that they are, partially, secure about it. What we know is that Bomb A3 was involved with magic, or it couldn’t have exploded a part of the wall. — She paused, recalling — Fairies are Daughters of the Nymphs, and, with their permission, those damn little fairies can do anything. I don’t think the nymphs would want them to fall into an ambush like this.

— Should we leave Carsany and investigate?

— Maybe when we find out more. It could have been a mystic who helped them with everything but could also be someone from inside the wall — Ryxer seemed to pay more attention. — Once implanted, the bomb doesn’t wait to be exploded for more than about five seconds, there’s no safe countdown or anything like that. The fairies could have been injured, at most lost their wings, but they came out unscathed somehow. Fortunately, they fell into our trap and now we don’t know if the magic used was by them or by a mystic. This could help us figure out who else was behind them. But what we do know is that there’s no squadron, just someone alone, which makes things a little more complicated.

In fact, if it were a group of terrorists, it would be quick to decipher. The fairies claimed it was just one person, but Gwenda’s doubt was entangled with the explosion case in sector 6. There’s also a possibility that they put the magic in the bomb... but Gwenda has thought and rethought many times and no.

— And the clues? Anything nearby? — Ryxer asked.

Gwenda sighed.

— Besides the fucking fairies... — She forced a smile — Nothing.

No clues. She couldn’t say if the explosion destroyed any clues they might have had or if there were them or stayed out of it, just making sure they paid them for the job of placing the bomb in the right place without leaving traces. They could be inside Carsany now, wandering around, or already in the Capital.

— There’s a good chance the satyr was responsible for all this. — Gwenda commented.

Ryxer watched her.

— The dead one.

Gwenda agreed, even though it wasn’t a question.

— He was in the sector 6 explosion.

— It’s possible, but it doesn’t make sense for him to mess with the wall and then practically kill himself.

— Unless he’s already done what he planned. Exploding the sector might have been a distraction for something bigger or maybe that’s exactly what he wanted. We don’t know if he wanted to kill someone specific or everyone, we don’t know if he managed to hit the target. When the fifteen soldiers died, he entered Carsany so he could continue the plan and then accepted death thinking his target had died in the sector explosion.. If they didn’t actually die.

Ryxer stared at Gwenda. His expression didn’t confirm anything, just endless reasoning.

— Let’s wait and see if someone will return through the fairies, as they said. If the satyr is guilty, we’ll need more evidence than just our insinuations.

— I know. — Gwenda agreed.

— Until then, we’ll act normally, without too much fuss. We still have our daily work, and I think the arena is waiting for you today.

Gwenda didn’t look away from him when Ryxer got up from the floor,

— Are you giving me orders, Vannyer?

As if she didn’t know that all this nonsense was confidential.

— I’m reinforcing it, Matchstone.

Gwenda opened a creepy smile.

— Of course, agent.

She wanted to make it clear that Darcy had given the case to Gwenda before unnecessarily involving Ryxer in it. She highly doubted Vannyer would be more useful than she thought.

— I don’t think it was very nice to point a gun at me. — Ryxer stiffened and walked to the door.

Gwenda smiled weakly, ready to be ignored. But then Vannyer stopped at the exit.

— I apologize.

Gwenda pretended to consider whether she would forgive him or not.

— I had my reasons, okay?

She shrugged.

— Think better next time. And, — she raised her eyebrows — you would be dead before burying the bullet in my head.

Vannyer laughed.

— With all those agents thinking the same as me, I’m not sure you could escape that.

— It doesn’t change your possible death.

Ryxer rolled his eyes.

— Goodbye, Gwenda.

And he was gone.

She heard his footsteps down the hall and then when he went up the stairs quickly, one thud after another.

— It’s Matchstone to you, Ryxer. — She muttered to herself.

Gwenda got up with a sigh and followed the same path as Vannyer. She knew they should come back here tonight, and only then would they have time to look at this case. Maybe they would spend the nights awake or end up unintentionally sleeping, but they would go after answer in any way possible.

Today was Saturday, she would spend the rest of the day in the arena and needed to eat something after the first round. She was thinking she had the option to lose since the food was crap, and Gwenda only ate yesterday when she got home. If ate now, she might vomit in the middle of a fight and lose a fraction of silver, which would be fine.

She grabbed a glove that covered her arm and part of her hands from her desk and placed them on the way to the stable. She had a spot in the arena’s barn to keep her horse only for the duration of her competition; afterward, she needed to pay to keep him there, which was what she did. Two silver caches, meaning six silver coins each.

Gwenda didn’t mind leaving him there when she wasn’t working; after all, it was cheaper than the stable in the sector.