Iris had drifted to sleep on Elliot’s bed, and he stuck with her throughout the night, succumbing to exhaustion himself once the lamplight was snuffed out. In the dark, Evalyn found herself still sitting on the floor, back propped against her bed. With her arms around her legs and chin on her knees, she watched Iris sleep. It had been the second time she had done so.

She crawled forward, her face only inches from Iris, whom she had learnt was naturally a heavy sleeper when circumstances permitted such. The fact that her small frame was falling into the large depression Elliot’s body was making in the mattress didn’t bother her in the slightest.

Evalyn stared, her heart aching in the sense that it was trying to suppress a happiness. The happiness of having someone to take care of had gotten to her, but there existed a worry she had always kept. No matter how much Elliot praised her, it would not go away.

And it was like this that Evalyn told the first bedtime story of her life. One she had forgotten by the morning.

But prying Elliot away from Iris in front of the station was a task for which Evalyn didn’t remember getting out of bed for. The man had been stuck to her since they had woken up, and Evalyn began to realise how much of a falsity his apparent indifference to having children was.

“All right, Elliot, it’s time to say goodbye,” she cooed, resting her hands on Iris’s shoulders and waving. He reluctantly stood to his full height and began to return the gesture, disappearing into the crowd.

“Bye-bye,” Iris managed, earning her a grin and even more sporadic waves from Elliot as the morning commute entirely consumed him.

“Now that’s over with, let’s start, shall we?”

Keeping the addresses in her pocket and a sidearm on her shoulder, she began her practical masterclass in pursuing missing persons.

All firearms too large should be left behind, and only those that would go mostly unnoticed without being concealed should be used. Outright concealment of a firearm was outlawed in Sidos as were shoulder fire automatics; she’d have to wear her gun on her sleeve or not at all. Of course, assuming she carried the correct paperwork.

In such a case of missing persons, she would first establish a general whereabouts for the sake of saving time. This meant, first and foremost, confirming his presence in the city, and the immigration office at Sidos station opened at a healthy 7:00 am for any justified inquiries. Of course, if presented with the correct paperwork.

“Identification, proof of business practice, firearm licenses, proof of ongoing police cooperation…is there anything I’m missing?”

“N…no ma’am…this way.”

The Department of Immigration headquarters and its attached archive kept tabs on every foreign resident in the city under temporary stay. Being allowed limited access, if only in Sidos and Geverde, sped up her investigations substantially.

The chief archivist of the storage wing greeted her with a look of contempt for perhaps the third or fourth time that month. The flaps of skin on his face crinkled as he exited his office chair. His lifeless office was the last threshold between Evalyn and the archive, and he often proved more problematic than the guards outside his door.

“Mr Whitehall, long time no see.”

“F-,” he began to say before he noticed Iris clinging to her trench coat. “Piss off. It’s the third time this month. We’re not a bloody business, let alone a daycare.” Specks of food flung from his moustache and disappeared into the air, blending too well with the brownish hue of the office’s plastered walls.

“The paperwork is all correct. I’m assuming that’s why I’m standing here.”

“To hell with your paperwork,” he cursed as he hobbled around the desk. “It’s cheating; that’s what it is.” In Evalyn’s experience, he was friendly to legitimate police officers but had a chip on his shoulder regarding her.

“I don’t get why a P.I. like you gets a pass, for god’s sake,” he mumbled. Evalyn knew he was probably used to rejecting them. However, she would turn up with paper after paper, suggesting equal jurisdiction as a police detective.

She wasn’t about to tell Whitehall that the same government that gave police detectives jurisdiction was handing it to her as well. Frankly, giving Witches and Wizards those permissions under the banner of ‘police cooperation’ was a lot more critical than handing them to an officer. If directly hiring an Aether-infused person was outlawed, then they would contract the freelance services of someone who just so happened to have all the needed papers. A loophole. A blatant and dangerous loophole, but one that had saved Evalyn a lot of time.

Mr Whitehall reluctantly opened the civilian entrance to the archive wing and the three found themselves at the foot of a depressingly soulless interior. Concrete pillars throughout the room created a ring arcade which housed the cabinets, leaving for a small reading space in the centre. The walls were cold, and the room lifeless despite the library-like design. Even the reading lamps and ceiling lights were tinted blue.

Police officers in grey trench coats sat at their desks and conducted their investigations, S.M.P.D proudly embroidered onto their chests, just under their coat of arms.

“Give me some search terms,” Whitehall demanded.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Incoming from Geverde city roughly one month ago. Beak traveller on a long-term working visa.”

“Name?”

“Kuarel Farehn, twenty-five.”

Whitehall made his way to the right-most shelves in the library, greeting officers as he walked past until he arrived at his destination. The shelf was marked with a removable label reading ‘1938: First Quarter.’

Evalyn and Iris waited idly under the arcade as Whitehall disappeared into the recesses of his library. As Evalyn waited, she noticed Iris’s gaze would drift from place to place, but eventually would settle on the pair of officers. They would avert their gazes, but would occasionally linger on Iris in a vaguely threatening way.

A minute passed before Whitehall returned with a decently sized cardboard box under one arm. “All the processed documents before, during and after that period are in here. Don’t bother asking for more if he’s not there,” he threatened tiredly as he began to make his way back to the office.

Evalyn found herself a desk and began working through the pile of documents in front of her. Roughly fifty in total were organised into alphabetical order, and it didn’t take long before she found her subject.

“Kuarel Farehn, twenty-five, long-term working visa. Yeah, a mechanical engineer. Place of employment is…Deckerman Industries, 14 Pearson Avenue, Sidos Industrial sector zone three.” A workplace, but more importantly, confirmation that he was, or had been in the city eliminated the possibility of being intercepted beforehand. The first step in his journey was clear, and she was ready to move on.

However, she didn’t get a chance to explain a thought process or instruct Iris whatsoever. The girl was burning holes with her eyes into two officers several tables down. Evalyn noticed her glare before remembering the two officers at all. She glanced herself and, by the patches on their shoulders, discerned they were indeed high ranking.

Seeing an outsider, let alone a child in the archives would draw concern, but surely not to this extent. They were not looks of bewilderment, but rather something more threatening.

Worrying about it now, however, wouldn’t do them much good. The workday started in an hour and a half, and if they were to confirm his residency, they’d have to catch him leaving it.

The industrial district was distinct from the rest of the city. A hard contrast between residential buildings and full-scale factories with nothing much of note in between. Although technically the work rush hour, the streets around the subject’s residence were sparsely populated.

Attempts had been made to green the area, particularly near company residencies, but the dots of grass and occasional bush resembled the last bit of blue sky on a cloudy day, waiting to be swallowed.

The rain had subsided, but it had left the streets and the buildings horribly slick, and puddles marred their path forward—a bad omen to the rain that was predicted to make its return.

“When you’re tailing someone, you don’t want to be noticed. Sure, blending into crowds works fine, but if there aren’t enough to speak of….”

Evalyn took Iris’s hand and rounded a corner into an alleyway. They inched past a dumpster until Evalyn was sure no one could see them. The markings on her arm began to glow and culminated in the marking on her cheek. She raised her free hand, and a golden hooked rope shot from her palm high into the air, clearing the building and catching onto the roof. She checked that it was secure before grabbing Iris by the waist.

And without her knowledge, let alone her consent, Iris was rising once again, but this time she looked terrified. The ground under their feet rapidly escaped, and Evalyn watched the girl internally panic.

The momentum of their rapid ascent let Evalyn land feet first, and they lightly touched down on the slanted tiles, barely breaking a sweat.

“Rooftops are always better,” she finished. From here, they had an easy view of the entire street below, and like a one-way mirror, they were virtually invisible.

Only a metre-high barrier kept them from tumbling, not necessarily an implement of safety per se, but nonetheless useful for cover. With the street being so narrow, it was unlikely for anyone to voluntarily look up at a rooftop without straining their neck, but it was always a possibility.

She took the opportunity to scan the surrounding buildings. Most weren’t any taller than her perch, but she had been caught on rooftops before. Often confidence would be enough to get her out of it, but she could never be certain. Yet as far as she could tell, there wasn’t much of note to worry about. The slanted rooftop would conceal their backs and the barrier their front.

Evalyn checked her watch—8:27 am. For someone a short walk away from their workplace, soon would be the time to leave. Evalyn kept an eye on the door to the subject’s apartment when she felt a tugging on her sleeve.

“There’s someone there,” Iris whispered.

“Where? In front of us?” Evalyn asked, not daring to look up. “Pretend you haven’t noticed.”

“In front of us.”

Evalyn had already checked the surrounding buildings; nothing in her peripheral vision had suggested the presence of anything compromising. Nonetheless, she glanced up.

A single man, three, maybe five blocks away, nothing but a speck against the rest of the city, stood there looking in their direction. Hands in his pockets, the tail end of his trench coat flowing in the wind. Grey, like the standard police uniform.

“The hell…”

Her eyes may have been deceiving her at such a distance, but the man was facing their direction. No subtlety whatsoever, like he wanted to make his presence known.

And as if he felt his job was done, the man began to descend an out-of-sight set of stairs. Soon after, he was gone. She had no way to be sure, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. ‘More to the case’. Elvera’s words echoed around Evalyn’s head.

“Someone’s coming,” Iris whispered. Evalyn’s vision returned to the street as someone exited the target building. Beaks looked very similar to one another, but he was likely the only one in a kilometre radius. It had to be him.

“Iris, scratch the rooftops. I’ve got a bad feeling about them.”

She snatched Iris by the waist once more and walked to the edge of the roof. “Don’t scream.”

Evalyn stepped over the edge and began to speed to the bottom. With a mere though, a pillowy golden mass raced upwards from the ground below, grabbing their bodies and killing their momentum.

“Did you see which way he was going?” Evalyn asked as her feet hit the ground. Rather than in the direction of 14 Pearson Avenue, Iris, once she had regained her footing, pointed back the way they came—the direct opposite heading from his workplace.

“Are you sure?”

Iris nodded.

Evalyn began to walk a parallel road, separating themselves from the subject by a single block. She glanced through each gap between the buildings, confirming the subject’s route.

A right turn and Evalyn followed suit at the next opportunity. There was nothing to confirm a connection between the man on the roof and the case at hand, but if there was, Evalyn couldn’t afford to waste much time. And right now, keeping Iris close was the best course of action. If they had connected her to Iris, leaving her alone in the inn was not safe either.

Even if it was speculation, Elvera’s warnings had spooked her.

She kept track of him, never intruding past twenty-five metres as he made left turn after right turn. The crowd and concealment got thicker, and it in turn became harder to track him. A final turn left, and he rounded the corner into a large factory. As Evalyn kept walking the previous street, she took mental record of the factory’s address.

“There’s no point pursuing further unless we want to get caught. Let’s go to his listed workplace and see what we can find out there.”