There was a loud click as the dark wood door creaked open.

Kint frowned, looking down to see a young boy peeking around the corner.

The boy was about his daughter's age, maybe younger. Kint couldn’t tell under the layers of dirt.

“Um… Hello.” Kint greeted, putting on his most innocent face. A tall order considering what he’d just experienced.

The boy looked at him, eyes wide with fear.

He did not respond.

“Is Orton here?”

The child’s brows knit together, still concerned, but maybe less so?

He remained silent.

“Orton Jolly?” Kint added.

“The Jolly Priest?”

“Right.” Kint replied, latching onto to name. “That’s the one.”

“What do you want wif ’im?”

“I…” He hesitated. “He’s an old friend.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed, as he put a finger to his chin.

He seemed to make a decision, pulling back behind the door and slamming it in the Inspectors face.

Kint looked around, confused.

He checked the narrow road behind him.

Slivers of Shroud drifted across the cobble stones, but there was no sign of the creeping shadows of before.

Thank the Prophet.

Still, the Inspector didn’t want to spend any more time out here than he had to.

He was raising his hand to knock again when heavy footsteps sounded from behind the door.

The lock clicked again, and the door swung back.

A tall man in frayed church robes stood behind it. He had a large dark beard, and a heavy brow.

The Priests eyes widened upon seeing the Inspector.

“Kint… It’s been… Some time.”

The Inspectors pulse quickened. It had been many years since he’d seen Orton Jolly. Many years since they’d spoken.

“It has been… Some time… Hasn’t it.” He replied, voice tight.

His feet shuffled on hard stones.

“May I come in?”

Kint moved to enter, but the Priest closed the door slightly, stopping him.

“Are you here on business?” The man asked, eyes hard.

The Inspectors brow furrowed in confusion.

Overseer business… The revelation shook the old Inspector.

Had it really been so long?

Of course it had…

They hadn’t spoken since his wife’s death.

“No.” He responded, voice solemn with memory. “I’m not an Overseer anymore… I’m an Inspector now, remember?”

The cautious priest looked him up and down.

“Right.” He acknowledged, unmoved. “So, why are you here?”

“It’s about the 11th.” Kint responded. “I’m working a case here under the Black Seal.”

The priest gave him a skeptical look, closing the door an inch more.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing to do with you.” He soothed. “Whatever’s going on here, I’m not interested.”

Orton Jolly remained still, blocking entry.

“Look… I need a favor.” Kint sighed, “I need your help.”

The priest’s eyes narrowed.

“Come on, Orton.” He pleaded. “Would you let me in already?”

The tall man grimaced, then sighed.

He opened the door, gesturing Kint to a sitting room.

Kint heard the sound of steel on leather as the Priest slid the knife he’d been hiding behind the door, back into it’s sheath.

“Really?” Kint asked as he entered the dimly lit room.

Jolly didn’t acknowledge the question. Instead, pointing to one of several chairs by a low-burning fire.

The Inspector shook his head, taking a seat across from the man.

This was not going how he’d expected. Although, with the trouble he’d found on the way here, he hadn’t had much time to figure out what to expect. But it certainly wasn’t this.

Orton pulled out a pipe, lighting it with a stick from the fire. He handed the stick to Kint, who did the same with his own pipe.

There was a tussle of small bodies behind them.

“Ow. You’re on my toe, Keely”

A small voice whispered.

“Shut up!” Another muted voice exclaimed.

Feet scrambled on the hardwood. Kint turned to see shadows dancing against the hallway walls.

“Children.” Orton called, not turning around. “To bed.”

Silence.

“Now.”

There was another commotion as three raggedy urchins scurried up the stairs.

An upstairs door slammed shut behind them, then another silence followed.

“That means you too, Keely.” Orton grumbled. “Drop the knife on your way up.”

There was another light shuffling of feet.

Kint frowned as the child who’d met him at the door jogged down the hall. A knife dropped from his hand, sticking into the floor with a thwang.

The Inspector raised an eyebrow.

“They’re urchin’s, Kint.” Orton explained, puffing at his pipe. “They have reason to fear men in uniforms.”

He nodded to Kint’s suit.

“And you?” Kint questioned. “Why are you so cautious?”

“‘Cause I don’t know you.” He said, bluntly. “I haven‘t seen you in seven years, and we haven’t been close since the Academy. So, apologies if I seem a bit… Tense.” He grumbled. “I don’t much like men in uniforms either.”

“Fair enough.” Kint frowned.

This was not what he’d expected at all.

“It's like I said, though. I’m not an Overseer anymore… Not since… Well...”

Orton grimaced.

“I remember...”

He took a deep breath through his nose, letting it out.

“So, if you’re not here on business… why are you here?”

“I’m working a case at one of the Lord’s properties in the District.” Kint started, deciding there was no use in reminiscing.

There was obviously something between them that the Inspector wasn’t aware of.

“Two of Lord Crecius’ men were murdered the other night. Mage work.”

“And…” Orton shrugged, “I run a shelter, Kint. I don’t do the Apostles' dirty work anymore.”

“I know.” Kint soothed. “And I’m not asking you to. It’s just… We found another body… One they didn’t tell us about.”

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

Kint grimaced.

“It was a child… An urchin.”

The priest’s face remained neutral, but Kint could see a storm roiling behind his eyes.

“Boy or girl?”

“A boy.” Kint replied, “couldn’t have been more than ten years old.”

Orton worked his jaw, lip twitching in anger.

“What happened to him?”

“They strangled him… Snapped his neck” Kint winced. “He put up a hell of a fight though.”

The bearded man sighed, leaning his head back to face the ceiling.

“There’s something else…” Kint muttered.

Orton closed his eyes.

“There were scars… Surgical scars. All over his body.” He hesitated. “I don’t know what they were doing to him, but it seems like they’d been doing it for a while.”

The priest lowered his head slowly, meeting Kint’s eyes.

“This was one of Crecius’ plant’s?”

Kint nodded.

Orton nodded slowly, taking in a deep breath, and letting it out with a sigh.

“What are you really doing here, Kint?” He said, irritated. “I know this isn’t part of your case. There isn’t a Lord in the whole Tree that cares about these kids. So why are you sniffin’ around?”

“Kids?” Kint frowned. “There’s more than one?”

“You’re supposed to be laying low.” Orton growled. “Do you know what Grayson sacrificed for you? For that deal?”

Disdain marked the bearded man's face.

“Just got back to your life, Kint. Go back to your daughter… Or have you forgotten about her?”

Heat welled in Kint’s face.

There was something about the way he’d said those words.

“Tread lightly, priest.” He growled, eyes hard. “My little girl is no concern of yours.”

Orton cocked his head, surprised by the Inspectors reaction.

Kint sighed, letting the heat simmer.

“Besides, it’s a little too late to laying low.”

The Priests brow furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

Kint grimaced.

“My partner and I… Had a bit of a dust up at the Arena…”

The man’s eyes widened, bushy eyebrows rising in surprise.

“That was you?”

The Inspector nodded.

Orton shook his head, confused.

“Why?”

“What do you mean?” Kint asked.

“Why would you take this so far?”

The priest scratched at his temple in thought.

“It’s not for the case, and it’s certainly not for some dead urchin… Is it the girl? That partner of yours?”

The man was truly perturbed by the whole thing.

In truth, Kint didn’t know the answer himself. He’d been running on momentum since this morning, pushing from one task to the next, not thinking about the reasons or the consequences, only the goal…

Which was…

He shifted in his chair, uncomfortable.

“It just… needs doing.” Kint grumbled. “That boy didn’t do anything wrong.”

The priests eyes widened slightly, as if the words had connected something in his mind.

“It’s the Lord, isn’t it? Lord Crecius…”

The man’s eyes narrowed, observing Kint’s reaction.

A small smile crept onto the man’s lips.

“That’s it. He did something to set you off, didn’t he?”

The Inspector frowned, but he didn’t argue with the assessment. It was true enough, if not entirely.

Orton shook his head, chuckling ruefully.

“It looks like you’ve found your war.” He muttered.

Kint’s brow furrowed.

“What does that mean?”

The bearded man took another puff from his pipe before answering.

“Grayson used to say, ‘every man has one war in him, and he cannot truly find himself until he starts fighting.’ And then he’d look at you and say “Kint Archaedis is a man without a war… Prophet help us if he ever finds one.”

Kint shrugged.

“Seems a bit dramatic.”

Orton huffed a laugh.

“Well, the Scepter has a bit of a flair for that.”

Kint chuckled, and the two men shared a laugh, easing the tension between them considerably.

A silence settled over them after that as the old friends enjoyed their leaf.

The priest continued observing Kint as he chewed on his pipe. Weighing him.

His eyes narrowed.

“You’ve really changed, haven’t you?” He asked.

Orton nodded again, confirming it.

“Yes… Something’s different.”

Kint inhaled from his own pipe and shrugged.

“Maybe so…” He muttered. “For the better?”

Their eyes met.

“I’m not sure… Probably” Orton pondered. “But, whatever’s happening to you isn’t over… Might just be the beginning.”

The Inspector grimaced as he thought of those smiling crimson eyes.

“So, are you gonna help me or not?” He grunted.

“What do you need?” The priest replied.

Kint felt a bit of the tension in his shoulders fade.

“Something bad’s going on at that Plant, Jolly.” He began. “It’s dark… and it’s affecting the whole neighborhood.”

“I know…” The Priest replied, somber. “The kids are runnin’ from it. I’ve had to double the bunks.”

He grimaced.

“We’ve lost six of ‘em in the past year.”

“What?” Kint asked, genuinely shocked.

Orton nodded.

“Your Lord’s taken’ ‘em, we think… Only the Gods know what he’s doin’ with ‘em.”

“Prophet…” Kint whispered.

His brow furrowed, a thought coming to him.

“Whatever Crecius is doing, it has to be forbidden.” He muttered, “Dark Magics… Rot, even…”

Orton nodded his agreement.

A small grin grew on the Inspectors face.

“This is perfect.”

Orton gave him a sharp look. But, Kint didn’t notice.

“I just need proof…I need to get back there… But they’ll be looking for me, for sure. I need another way in”

An idea came to him.

The Inspector locked gazes with his old friend.

“Orton…”

Orton’s eyes widened.

“No–No, I can’t do that, Kint.” He muttered, offended. “You can’t ask that of them, I won’t allow it.”

“Orton…” Kint pleaded. “This could help them. We could stop this whole thing.”

“No.” He snapped, voice firm. “These kids have been through enough.”

“I know that, Jolly. But this is serio–”

“I’m serious, Kint. The answer is No.”

There was a pause. Kint lowered his head.

“Look, Orton…” He sighed. “I’m on the block here, that stunt we pulled at the Arena… There’s no way Crecius let’s us live after that.”

He shook his head, dejected.

“If I don’t get some leverage tonight… That’s it. For me and Nessa…”

The Priest put a hand over his eyes in thought, face wracked with anguish.

Eventually, he sighed.

“Fine.”

Kint let out an anxious breath.

“But we’re not forcing anyone.” He qualified. “You can make your case, and if no one volunteers, then that’s it. You’ll have to find another way.”

“Fair enough.” Kint nodded, solemn.

The two men stood, ashing their pipes and heading upstairs.

They entered a long, candle lit bunk room. Beds were stacked three high, and lined both walls all the way down the narrow building's length.

There had to be over fifty children crammed into the relatively small space.

Upon their arrival, the kids gathered in a semicircle around the two men.

Kint analyzed their faces, taking in the misery. He judged them to range from ages five to fifteen with clothes in varying states of dirt and decaying. There was a hollow tint to their eyes as they stared at him. They’d seen too much in their fight for survival, far too much.

“I’m sorry if we’ve frightened you, children.” The Jolly Priest began. “None of you are in trouble.” He gestured to Kint.

“The Inspector here is an old friend of mine. And he’s asked for our help.”

The children were silent, faces blank.

Orton looked to Kint.

The inspector coughed, clearing his throat.

“Right…”

He looked at those faces again, guilt racking him for what he was about to ask.

“Umm… I’ve been investigating the disappearance of a boy, some of you might have known him…”

Silent staring faces looked at him. He swallowed.

“I don’t know his name, but he had dark hair, and scars all over. About this big.”

Kint gestured with his hands.

His eyes peered around the room.

There was no response. Only a cough here and there.

He grimaced.

“I think it's related to the other disappearances in the District.” He continued. “I’m hoping that if we can find out what’s causing it… we can stop it.”

More silence.

Some of the older boys looked at Kint skeptically, wary of his uniform.

“Look… I’m just trying to help.” He pleaded. “I’m sure many of you know someone who’s gone missing recently. And if you do, I think I know where they’ve been taken. But, I’ll need your help to get in.”

He trailed off again. This wasn’t working.

The Priest gave him a consoling shrug.

“They took Chester.” A small voice called from the crowd.

Kint’s head shot up, searching for the speaker.

It was the boy, the one from the door when he first arrived. The one with the knife.

‘Keely’, Orton had called him.

“You saw them?” Kint asked. “You saw them take him?”

The boy nodded.

“What did they look like? Where was this?”

“They wore purple and black. Like you.” The boy said, “Chester said they was givin’ free bread in the factory quarter, but ‘e wouldn’t tell me where. So I followed ‘im.”

“And that’s when they took him?” Kint asked.

The boy nodded.

“Did you see where?”

“Into one of the factories.”

Kint’s eyes widened.

“Do you know which factory they went to?” He asked. “Was it where they made the flying shoes?”

The boy nodded again.

A spark of excitement grew in the Inspectors chest.

“Were you able to see where they took him? When they were inside the factory, I mean.”

“Yes…” The boy muttered. “I can show you if you want.”

An older boy elbowed Keely in the rib.

“What?” He exclaimed. “He’s tryin’ to help.”

“He’s a Spector.” The older boy chided.

“‘E’s a good person. E’s the one from the Arena.” Keely stated. “The one who saved that lady.”

A murmur went through the throng of children as each confirmed with each other that he was in fact the one from the Arena. Apparently, some of them had been there.

All of a sudden, the sentiment toward him became much more friendly. Some of the kids even looked at him with wide eyed awe now.

“Keely.” Jolly cut through the commotion, concern etched on his face. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know, Mr. Jolly… But, I want to…” Keely smiled, “I liked Chester.”

Orton sighed. He turned to Kint, giving Kint a stern look.

“I don’t order these kids around, or force ‘em to do anything they don’t want. But… They’re my kid’s Kint…”

The man’s eyes told the story.

Kint nodded.

He would keep the boy safe.

Before he could say goodbye, a warm hand clasped his own.

Kint looked down to see Keely pulling him down toward the stairs.

“It’s okay, Mr. Jolly.” The boy said. “I’ll keep your friend safe.”