They arrived above Port Valcane late in the evening. Damien had wrapped the transport in an invisibility screen so any non-sorcerers keeping watch wouldn’t see them. According to the mayor the Paymaster’s warehouse sat in an industrial area ten blocks from the docks beside a wagon maker’s shop. He’d only visited his superior twice and that was many years ago when he first joined the cult so he had no idea what sort of defenses the place might have now. If the warehouse was a working business Damien doubted there’d be much in the way of traps. After all, you wouldn’t want your employees accidentally killing themselves.

Marie-Bell gasped and Damien stopped the platform and spun to see what the problem was. She was staring out across the ocean, watching the setting sun color it pink and purple. “It is pretty.”

“Told you.”

“We should probably concentrate on the matter at hand,” Jen said.

“Right.” Damien turned away from the view and started the platform moving again. “Do you think we should check in with the guard captain?”

Jen grimaced. “We should, but I’d rather not. There’s no way to know if anyone in the guard is a member of the cult or if they just talk too much. I say we catch as many as we can and present them tied up in a neat bow. If Tosh wants to complain let him do it when we’re finished.”

Damien shrugged. Jen knew the city better than he did. If she thought handling things on their own was the best way he’d follow her lead. If things became too complicated he still had Uncle Andy’s ring.

Five minutes of hunting turned up the warehouse. Both the target and the wagon maker next door looked closed for the day. That could be good if the civilians were out of the danger zone, but if the Paymaster had gone home for the night they’d end up camping out in the warehouse, not a proposition that thrilled Damien.

“How do you want to handle this?” Damien asked. “I can send in a scout bug, see if anyone’s home.”

“Scout bug?” Marie-Bell asked.

“You’ll see. Jen?”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Jen nodded. “Do it.”

Damien conjured a wasp and connected it to a viewing rectangle. The little construct buzzed down toward the warehouse, everything it saw appearing perfectly on the rectangle.

Marie-Bell leaned over his shoulder. “That’s amazing.”

She really was young in a lot of ways. Damien guided the bug through an open window high up under the eaves. The interior of the building was one big, open space filled with boxes, bales of cloth, and bins of clothes. No movement showed through the bug’s eyes.

“There should be an office,” Jen said.

Damien guided his spy lower, weaving through the stacks. It flew over an empty wagon and on the other side found a door. The bug crawled under it and sure enough an empty office waited on the other side. There was a table covered with papers, an ink pot and quill, four chairs, and three bookshelves filled with ledgers and binders.

He severed the connection. “Nobody’s home. Shall we go have a closer look?”

They flew down and landed on the back side of the warehouse opposite the street. It was getting darker by the moment, but he didn’t want to risk a light until he had to.

“There’s a small door over here.” Jen’s eyes gleamed with the light of soul force.

He followed Jen to the door, conjured a screen so no one would see the tiny light he used to find the keyhole. The light flew into the lock and a moment later it clicked open. The three of them slipped inside, then closed and relocked the door.

The interior of the warehouse looked exactly the same as it had through the bug’s eyes. The main difference being the acrid smell of cleaning solutions. They made their way by the light of a tiny glowing globe to the office door which Damien opened with the same ease as the first.

“You two would make fine thieves,” Marie-Bell said.

Damien grinned and waved her through the open door. She had a point. Any sorcerer that wanted to take up a life of crime would have no trouble with the ordinary precautions available to the average citizen. However, if the thieving sorcerer got found out, every other sorcerer in the kingdom would hunt him or her down and see them punished. Sorcerers in the kingdom had a responsibility to use their powers for the good of the people. Anything less would lead to mistrust and anger. People would come to hate and fear sorcerers and they’d end up shunned like the sorcerers of Salem’s homeland. He’d do everything in his power to prevent that from happening.

“Think it’d be worthwhile looking through these ledgers?” Jen asked.

Damien shrugged. “We have hours to kill before morning. Couldn’t hurt to page through them.”

The office had no outside windows so Damien blacked out the small window in the door and conjured a glow globe bright enough to read by. Next he conjured a couch for Jen who promptly collected an armful of ledgers and slumped down on it.

He glanced at Marie-Bell, but she seemed content to sit in one of the office chairs. Damien lifted his sister’s feet up, sat down, and put them back in his lap. Just like at home when they’d had classwork. He grabbed a ledger from her pile and set to reading.