Author's Preface
The walk from the Dancing Dell to Brickstown took them nearly an hour as they wound through the city streets already filled with people going about their business. Kyra was convinced that Jysarra was trying to lose her in the crowd more than once, but lucky for her Jysarra was hardly inconspicuous.
Kyra had tried to engage with her. They had simply gotten off on the wrong foot. She hadn’t meant to offend the woman and even had an apology ready to roll off her tongue until Jysarra rebuked her yet again with another sharp turn of her hips as they walked into Green Market Square from the Tradeway.
Fine. If that’s the way she wants this to be then so be it.
Kyra knew how to deal with situations like this. She had been taught how to read and assess people at an early age by her mother and use that to turn unfavorable situations around. As they walked into Brickstown the acrid scent of smoke still clung to the entire neighborhood. Small plumes of ash wafted into the air like snow each time the breeze swept in from the north off the bay. The stone foundation of the warehouse had been blackened by the flames last night and most of the roof and the wall along the riverwalk had collapsed in on themselves.
“I suggest we question the residents. See if they saw anyone suspicious over the last few days,” Kyra said.
Jysarra continued her slow sweep of the warehouse before turning to Kyra with a tight smile.
“By all means, Kyra , lead the way.”
Kyra clicked her tongue then turned away from the warehouse and marched across the street. She knocked firmly on the first door they came across and it opened just a crack a few moments later.
“Good morning. I am here on behalf of Archduchess–”
The door slammed in her face, a pattern that was repeated at the next three doors. When the last door closed Kyra let out a huff of frustration and started toward the next building when she heard a sarcastic snicker of a laugh behind her. She turned to see Jysarra covering the rest of her sardonic laughter at Kyra’s expense.
“Please, do share what is so amusing.”
“You, sunshine. You’re amusing thinking any of these people are going to give you what you want simply because you’re who you are.”
“And who am I?”
Jysarra made a slow lap around her, letting her eyes rake over Kyra.
“A privileged girl playing at being anything other than that.”
Of course. Another in a long line thinking I’ve been given everything.
Kyra met Jysarra with a cold stare. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know that officer’s jacket isn’t yours. The cut is from two decades ago.”
A tremor shot up Kyra’s spine.
“I…It’s not stolen if that is what you’re implying.”
Jysarra gave Kyra another sweeping look, the hint of a smirk tugging at her lips, then walked on to the next building.
“Don’t worry, officer Kiermann, I have no interest in exposing your secret.” She turned and flashed a smile. “At least while you’re proving useful.”
Kyra wrinkled her nose.
“Charming. I can accept you not liking me. What I can't accept is you being useless. Or worse, undermining the investigation.” She closed the distance between them and stared up at Jysarra. “So unless you are going to prove useful I do not need your advice.”
Jysarra held her gaze for a moment. The smirk faded, replaced by something sharper. Appraising. Her pupils widened just slightly.
“Oh, it’s a lesson you’re wanting? Well, allow me, m’lady.”
Jysarra continued down the street to the cul de sac where merchants local to the neighborhood had carts and stalls arranged in a horseshoe. Kyra followed several paces behind, watching her browse the various vendors before she came to a stop at a jewelry cart. An older woman with grey streaks in her brown hair tended the cart.
“These are finely wrought. Your work?” Jysarra asked.
“The stones, yes, but Kohler at the Scorched Hammer creates the settings for me.”
“My appreciation to you both.”
Jysarra made a show of looking around the makeshift market place.
“Forgive me, but I couldn’t help noticing your fellow merchants’ stalls look rather bare.”
The woman let out a sigh.
“Lost a lot in the fire last night, unfortunately. Dreadful thing, that.”
Jysarra eyed one of the rings closer, a brilliant emerald set into a silver band.
“I heard about that. Is it true someone intentionally set the fire?”
Kyra watched as Jysarra slipped a platinum from her coin purse and slid it across the cart in one swift move.
“That’s the word around the town. Wouldn’t surprise me none either.”
The old woman pocketed the coin and plucked the ring from its display to show Jysarra.
“That warehouse was s’posed to be for us locals, but a lot of shady types make their way cross the river in the dead of night,” she said in a whisper. “No telling what was actually in there.”
Jysarra slipped a ring from her left index finger and replaced it with the emerald band. The emerald glinted with the early morning sunlight, and she turned it once, testing the fit.
“Looks lovely on you darlin’.”
Jysarra smiled at the old woman, turned, and walked over to Kyra.
“Were you paying attention?” she asked.
Kyra clicked her tongue. She realized Jysarra had gotten more information than she did in the last fifteen minutes.
“That was hardly a lesson. Anyone can buy information.”
Jysarra stopped abruptly.
“I did not bribe her.” Jysarra held her hand up, the emerald catching the light. “She deserved something extra for her bravery. These people have a lot to lose by talking to us. That is not something I take lightly.”
Kyra let out a sigh.
“I didn’t mean…” she trailed off. Kyra’s brow furrowed, her gaze falling to the cobblestones as silence stretched between them.
“You need to realize where you are. This is a long way from the estates of Morninglow.”
Kyra shifted from one foot to the other and gave the hem of her jacket a tug.
“What was the lesson?”
Kyra cast her eyes back up. Jysarra had her pinned in place with her eyes, though there was a soft smile accompanying it.
“You have to connect with people. They need to know you don’t view them as the enemy.”
Kyra gave a nod. “Noted. She said people crossed the river at night to use the warehouse, right? Maybe we should have a look there then.”
“I suspect anything that shouldn’t have been there will be gone by now, but that doesn’t mean checking it out is completely useless.”
The two walked stride by stride back down the street to the burnt husk of the warehouse.
“Looks like it could completely fall at any moment,” Kyra said.
“Then we shouldn’t linger.”
They circled around to the front doors and Kyra gave them a gentle pull, though they didn’t budge. Jysarra raised an eyebrow.
“And you expected…?”
“You never know until you try.”
A smile tugged at Jysarra’s lips as she fished around in her bag, producing a thin piece of iron, one end bent with precision. She placed the angled end into the lock and the scrape of metal on metal filled the air. Kyra’s eyes widened and swept up and down the street.
“What are you doing?”
Jysarra stopped and looked up at Kyra. “You’re a city guard. You don’t recognize a lockpick?”
“I know what a lockpick is. I mean, what are you doing? This is a crime.”
“Do you want the doors unlocked or not?” Jysarra asked lightly.
Kyra huffed. “Fine. Just be quick about it.”
Jysarra worked the lockpick into the keyhole with precision and grace, twisted it around a moment, and with a click the heavy wooden door creaked open a few inches. Jysarra pulled herself upright and pocketed the lockpick.
“Was that quick enough for you, sunshine?”
Kyra’s jaw tightened. “Stop calling me that.”
Jysarra pushed the door open, turned toward Kyra, and walked backward into the warehouse.
“Or else what?”
The audacity of this bitch.
Kyra followed her inside, closing the door softly behind her. Sunlight streaked in through the collapsed sections of the roof, throwing stark contrasts of light and shadow across the blackened interior. Ash drifted lazily through the air and Kyra felt as if she were a figurine in some macabre snowglobe. Jysarra tried to pick up a small wooden carving of a wolf. It fell apart in her hands.
“I’m not sure how much we can hope to find with a pile of ash.”
Kyra scanned the space slowly, taking in every minute detail. The far end of the building closest to the riverwalk was a disaster, but the rest of the warehouse was more or less intact for the purposes of investigation. Shipping crates and storage boxes were stacked floor to ceiling against the walls, broken by the occasional shelf, or what remained of them.
“Look for things that are out of place or don’t belong. No detail is too small.”
“Yes sir, officer Kiermann.”
Kyra turned away from Jysarra and rolled her eyes. As she began a sweep of the area, a crate in the southeast corner drew her focus. It had been pulled down from the stack and broken open. There were boot prints in the ash leading back toward the collapsed section of the building. Alongside them were clearly defined drag marks of something heavy.
“Someone removed something after the fire was contained last evening. This crate has been broken open, not damaged from a fall or the fire.”
Jysarra walked over and ran a finger along the burnt wood.
“And what has led you to that conclusion?” Jysarra said, wrinkling her nose.
“Oh, it’s a lesson you’re wanting? Well, allow me, m’lady,” she said, her words dripping with contempt.
Kyra knelt down next to the crate.
“The lack of structural damage to the other crates in this stack clearly suggests this one was pulled down rather than falling. Furthermore, it is caved in at the center by blunt force trauma, whereas other crates throughout the warehouse that have fallen are shattered along the edges.”
“Even so–”
“Don’t interrupt. The boot prints in the ash indicate whomever broke into this crate did so after the fire had gone out and the drag marks lead toward the northside of the building, disappearing under the debris.”
Jysarra took a slow walk around the area and followed the boot prints until debris made that impossible. She turned and her eyes fell on Kyra once again, only now her gaze seemed softer, warmer.
“I hate to admit it, but I am impressed, Kyra.”
Kyra felt a warmth creep up her neck.
“Yes, well, all those hours of study at the academy weren’t for naught. The only thing that perplexes me is how whatever was in this crate survived the fire. The contents within the surviving containers are still fire damaged, but this was intact enough to create scoring on the floor.”
“Enchanted items cannot be destroyed through normal means. If someone were keeping something magical here it would have been safe from the flames for removal later.”
Jysarra placed a foot on one of the fallen trusses. It wobbled and the flooring underneath groaned in protest.
“That isn’t a good idea. The entire structure could come crashing down with one wrong move,” Kyra said.
Jysarra flashed a smile back at Kyra.
“Where is your sense of adventure?”
Jysarra stepped up onto the truss and took a few careful steps. It shifted and she shot a hand out to steady herself against the nearby support beam. A sharp crack of wood rang through the building. Another beam overhead splintered and swung downward toward her just as she regained her footing.
Kyra sprang into action before the thought had fully formed. She was on the fallen truss in two long strides, wrapped her arms around Jysarra, and threw them both backward. They hit the ground hard. Both women groaned. Their breath came fast. Kyra still had an arm locked across Jysarra’s chest. Jysarra, in turn, clutched tightly at Kyra’s arm. They sat there a moment catching their breath, neither letting go.
“Are you okay?” Kyra asked, a tremor in her voice.
“I…I believe so.”
Jysarra’s grip on Kyra’s arm loosened and she pulled herself back to her feet. Kyra started to stand when Jysarra offered her hand. Kyra looked up. The usual sharp edge of Jysarra’s expression had softened. Kyra took her hand and Jysarra pulled her upright. Kyra brushed her hands over her jacket, ash and dust billowing off it.
“Was that adventurous enough for you?”
Jysarra stared at her for a long moment, then huffed out a short laugh.
“I probably deserved that.”
Kyra raised an eyebrow. “Probably?”
Kyra looked around the warehouse, or what was left of it.
“It may be a good idea to make ourselves scarce before I have to save you from another near-death experience.”
“Agreed. Besides, I could use a drink.”
Jysarra eased the heavy doors open and slipped into the harsh light of day, Kyra on her heels.
“A drink? It’s not even midday yet.”
“If you have a better suggestion to ease one’s nerves after nearly being crushed to death, I am all ears.”
Kyra’s response died on her lips as she stepped back onto the street. A small crowd had gathered outside. It didn’t take a divination wizard to discern the reason why.
“Fine, but at least re-lock the door. I don’t want anyone getting inside and hurting themselves.”
Jysarra turned, saw the onlookers, then slipped the lockpick from her bag and threaded it into the keyhole. With a flick of her wrist and a heavy thud of metal on metal, the lock reengaged.
“Satisfied?”
“Quite.”
Jysarra rolled the lockpick across her fingers while she walked away.
“Keep up, sunshine.”
She looked back at Kyra with a wink of her eye. Kyra rolled her eyes and hurried after her.
“Where are we going exactly?”
“A hole in the wall called the Cursed Scroll.”
Kyra’s brow furrowed.
“I thought you implied we were headed to a tavern.”
“I admit it’s a terribly confusing name. Last I knew the general atmosphere and clientele leave a lot to be desired, but the drinks are strong and the prices low.”
“I’m going to get knifed, aren’t I?” she said with a sigh.
Jysarra flashed a smile at her. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the terrifying lower class.”
Kyra grabbed Jysarra’s arm and pulled her to a stop.
“Stop trying to paint me as some classist snob.”
Jysarra remained silent. Her gaze was locked on Kyra’s hand clutching her arm. Slowly she looked up. The glare she fixed on Kyra could have melted steel.
“And how is this any different from deciding my sisters were guilty because they are Dark Elves?”
“I didn’t–”
Kyra let out a breath. She let go of Jysarra’s arm.
“That wasn’t my intent, but if that is indeed how I presented myself then…I apologize.”
The rigid line of Jysarra’s shoulders eased. Her eyes faltered and fell to the cobblestones.
“The tavern’s just ahead,” she said, walking on.
Kyra started after her. She cast an eye toward the caravan court where she had the encounter last evening. Her focus was shattered when the door to the Cursed Scroll burst open and an imposing Half-Orc casually threw a man out into the street.
“You can find taverns down by the wharves more to your liking,” he said, tossing a few coppers at the man.
He turned and looked both Kyra and Jysarra over. He took a step back toward the tavern and opened the door.
“Ladies,” he said, gesturing inside.
Jysarra cocked an eyebrow at Kyra and walked inside. Kyra shook her head.
This woman is going to be the death of me.
Kyra followed her inside. The space was dimly lit with a couple sconces on each wall and chandeliers that looked like they were older than Brighthollow itself. The leather of the seats was cracked and brittle. Kyra wrinkled her nose at the strong scent of alcohol that seemed to permeate the very walls. There were a handful of patrons scattered around the tavern. A man and woman sat in a booth at the far end of the room, a Blue Dragonborn stood at the bar with his head in his hand, and a halfling with salt and pepper hair was playing three-dragon ante with a Kobold at the table just inside the door.
Jysarra took a seat at the bar, setting her sword next to her knee. Kyra stood next to her, her back rigid. Jysarra looked at her and motioned to the stool. The Half-Orc came around the bar and leaned a massive forearm against it. He was broad at the shoulders and easily a full head taller than Jysarra. He had a soft olive complexion and his lower jaw protruded out slightly. Kyra guessed he had some form of tusks owing to his Orcish heritage.
“What can I get you?” His voice was gravelly.
“That depends. What do you have?” Jysarra asked.
“The usuals. Mead, ale, and wine. But also some apple spirits and black juniper.”
He looked at Kyra.
“I know the place ain’t much to look at, but the stools won’t bite darlin’. I promise.”
Kyra placed her boot onto one of the crossbars and hoisted herself up onto the stool.
“Apologies. I’ve never been in a tavern. Not properly anyway.”
“That so? In that case, the first round is on the house.”
Jysarra placed a silver piece onto the bar. “For your trouble. We’ll have two of the black junipers.”
Kyra leaned in close to Jysarra. “What’s a black juniper?”
“It’s sweet. You’ll like it.”
She sat back up and watched as he poured an amber-hued liquid into two cups.
“Thank you…I’m sorry, but I don’t believe we got your name.”
“No apologies necessary. I’m Kargoth.”
“Pleased to meet you, Kargoth. I’m Kyra, and this,” she gestured at Jysarra, “is Jysarra.”
Kyra grabbed her cup and brought it up to her lips. It smelled of ripe berries and honey. The flavors burst onto her tongue and she couldn’t stop the hum of approval that escaped her.
“Told you you’d like it.”
She felt heat rising through her face. Looking past Kargoth, Kyra saw a familiar sigil emblazoned on a banner that hung from the back wall.
“Is that the symbol of House Brightwood?”
Kargoth turned. “It is indeed. I know them well.”
A sudden thought occurred to Kyra. Jysarra had told her after the market that one needs to connect with people. That’s how she had gotten the old woman to open up to her.
“How did you come to meet the King?”
Kargoth snorted out a laugh.
“Well, met him back before he was King, back when he was the Archduke. You ever had the pleasure?”
“Not truly, no. I’ve accompanied both my mother and sister when they’ve had dealings with the King, but that was the extent of our interactions.”
Kyra let out a small laugh. “When Kat and I were little there was even the thought that she and King Brightwood could be a good pairing, but when she made her…preferences known, our mother struck that idea down immediately.”
“Probably for the best, that. Bran had an eye for that Drow priestess from an early age, I hear.”
Kyra saw Jysarra’s lips pull into a thin line. She could hear the cup groaning under Jysarra’s tightening grip.
“Dark Elves,” Kyra said, turning back to Kargoth.
“What’s that now?”
“The congregation the Queen belonged to, they are Dark Elves, not Drow.”
Kyra dared a glance in Jysarra’s direction. Her apparent tension seemed to ease just a little. The Blue Dragonborn down the bar laid a few coppers on the bar, gave a noncommittal wave, and disappeared out the door. Kargoth grabbed the cup and began cleaning it out.
“May I ask how you came to meet King Brightwood?”
“He took me in after the Battle of Brighthollow. Helped me find my place here in the city. I owe him everything, but anyone that knows him knows he’ll never accept repayment of any sort.”
Kyra took another swallow of her drink.
“That he will not. I’m glad you found a place here in the city after the war.”
She turned toward Jysarra with a smirk.
“In fact, I heard that this place left a lot to be desired, but I must say I find it quite charming.”
Jysarra cocked an eyebrow at her as she took a generous drink from her cup. Kyra found it unusual that Jysarra didn’t have some cutting remark on her lips at her obvious teasing, but she’d take it for now.
“Used to be a lot rougher in here. Previous owner let all sorts of unsavory folk in and wouldn’t do nothing when things got out of hand. Some of them still wander in from time to time.”
Kyra finished off the last of her drink and set the cup down.
“Another?”
“It was delicious, but unfortunately I must decline. I am on duty after all.”
“Fair enough. Over investigating that fire from last night?”
Jysarra set her cup down next to Kyra’s.
“We are. I nearly found myself crushed if it wasn’t for this one.”
He grabbed the cups and placed them into the sink. “That so?”
Kyra felt a blush rise. “I only did what anyone else would have done.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, my lady. Plenty of folk wouldn’t spit on you if you were on fire.”
Kyra’s face scrunched up at that thought. Kargoth took a glance at the other patrons then leaned in toward Jysarra and Kyra.
“You didn’t hear this from me, but you may want to make your way cross the river to the House of Earthly Delights.”
A wide smile spread across Kyra’s face.
“Thank you, Kargoth.” She glanced at the other customers. “F-for the drink, that is.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Kyra looked at Jysarra. A smirk was playing on her lips. She grabbed her sword and made for the door. Kyra hopped off her stool and followed. As the door to the Cursed Scroll swung shut Jysarra turned toward Kyra.
“That was very well done. You’re a quick learner.”
“Yes, well, I had a good teacher.”
Jysarra’s smirk turned into a full smile and she started down the road again. Kyra closed the distance in a few quick steps.
“So we go to this House of Earthly Delights now?”
“Not yet. This place isn’t for the faint of heart, Kyra. And it is definitely not somewhere a city guard will be welcomed which means I simply must get you out of that uniform.”
Kyra didn’t miss the way Jysarra’s eyes traveled over the length of her. Kyra didn’t balk as those eyes locked on hers. She held her gaze, emerald meeting violet.
“Don’t look at me like that.”