The Woodward Academy, Year 6

Chapter 6: November

David strode along the outer rim of the Monster Moat of Mt. Woodward.  He'd been called there by Tanya for a security matter.  He didn't know what there could be that she couldn't handle, but he'd see when he got there.

Once he arrived, he saw Tanya, her second in command, Dean Lengel, and a student who was looking very unimpressed with all the attention.

"Madame Dean," David said first.  She nodded to him.  Turning to Tanya, David asked, "What's up?"

"Our friend here took it upon himself to seriously damage this Sentinel Tree."

"Bullshit," the student proclaimed.

"Watch your language, young man," Dean Lengel said.

"Fuck you," he opined.

David stepped over to the student and decked him hard enough to knock him to the ground.

"I am not a member of the school staff," David said.  "She cannot fire me.  If you speak to her in that tone of voice again, I will throw you off this mountain."

"Big deal.  The damn trees would catch me," the student replied derisively.

"Oh, except that you've damaged this one.  It could not save you.  And if I throw you off right here, the trees on either side very well might not be able to reach you.  And, of course, there's the question of whether they would try all that hard, given that they witnessed you harming one of their brothers."

"They didn't witness shit," the student said.  "They're fucking trees!"

"Uh-huh," David replied.  "And, if they aren't able to observe the things that happen around them, how, exactly, would they know when someone was falling?"

The student wanted to give a snotty rejoinder, but he couldn't think of one.

"Why did you bring me here for a discipline problem?" David asked Tanya.

"This rises above the level of discipline problem," Dean Lengel said.  "Without this tree here, the safety of every student is impacted.  Plus, these trees were a gift to the school from a previous king of Callamandia."

"Uh-huh.  And that adds a whole new level of ugly to the situation."

"Yes."

David stepped closer to Dean Lengel and lowered his voice.  Tanya moved in so she, too, could hear.

"You realize," David said, "that with what we know is coming, this student could be charged with treason."

"What?" Dean Lengel asked in shock.

"How do you figure?" Tanya wanted to know.

"The Sentinel Trees were named that for a reason.  Their primary job is not to rescue falling students.  It's to keep enemies off the mountain.  When these trees were put here, there was still quite a bit of concern about Vrudenan invasion, and this school was still on the list of fortresses that could be reactivated during war."

"Are we still?" Tanya asked.

"No.  Woodward has evolved too far away from its military roots to be easily reactivated.  But in any case, if the werewolves come here for whatever reason, the loss of a Sentinel Tree is a serious breach in the lines of fortification.  Willfully causing that in time of war, including the run-up to a war, is a treasonous act.  If the king wanted to get ugly, he could be executed on the spot."

"Do you really think he meant to aid the weres?" Tanya asked.

"No.  I think he's an asshole who doesn't give a shit about who or what he hurts.  I'm quite sure he did it because he thought it was funny.  That doesn't help him a whole lot."

"What do you mean?" Dean Lengel asked.

"Well, that leaves him with a charge of criminal disregard for the safety of others.  It carries a twenty-five year sentence and mandatory revocation of his license."

"Oy," Tanya said.  "They don't mess around, do they?"

"There's a reason there aren't that many criminals in Callamandia," David said.

"So what do you want to do?" Dean Lengel asked.

David shook his head.  "The question is, what do you want me to do?  You know where I stand.  I don't think people like him should ever be allowed to do magic.  So, do you think he can be rehabilitated?  More to the point, are you willing to take the responsibility for that?"

Dean Lengel stood silently and thought hard for a long moment.  Finally she turned back to David.  "Yes, I want to give him that opportunity.  He's only a third-year.  I think he can learn from this."

David shook his head in chagrin.  "It's your school."  David motioned the two of them back away from him, and he then turned to the student, who was looking out at the land disinterestedly.

"Okay, you've got two options," David said.  "You can be arrested, or you can accept as disciplinary action the punishment I choose for you."

"Arrested?  For hurting a damned tree?" the guy scoffed.

"Criminal disregard for the safety of others is a major felony.  You were aware of the nature of the Sentinel Tree when you committed the act: you knew it was here as a safety measure.  Knowing that, you willfully damaged the tree to such extent that it cannot perform its function.

"The sentence for this crime is a minimum of twenty-five years in Barnard Hill, loss of your wizarding license, and exile to Earth.

"Or, you can go for door number two, which allows you to stay at this school, but you will serve the punishment that I prescribe.  Also note that you must remain at this school until you pass your Citizenship Exam.  If you choose to withdraw before that happens, you will be arrested for this charge, which has a statute of limitations of fifty years."

"And what is your punishment?" the kid sneered.

"That you will rehabilitate this Sentinel Tree, according to the instructions and guidance of Groundskeeper MacDougal and his staff.  You will do so every day until it is in full health.  After that, you will be part of the nightly feeding and care of the Sentinel Trees, every night, without fail, until you graduate from this school with a Citizenship.  Be aware that it will take roughly three hours a day."

"That's bullshit!  You can't make me work for free!"

"You're right, I can't.  By all rights, I should just arrest you and be done with it.  I was asked to allow you the opportunity to learn something from your idiocy.  I am doing so out of respect for the dean, not out of any concern for you.  So, what's it going to be?"

The third-year stood there, looking back and forth at everyone.  "You guys are serious about this shit," he said.

"Dead serious," David replied matter-of-factly.

"You expect me to waste like... two thousand hours of my life helping some stupid fucking trees?"

"You're already wasting twenty-four hours of your life every day," David replied.  "This will just allow someone else to benefit from it.  I should point out that twenty-five years is something like two hundred thousand hours of your life."

The student finally winced at that, and was silent for a long moment.  Finally, he said, "Fine, I'll take care of the motherfucking trees."

"I'd advise you do the job right, by the way," David warned him.  "Doing the job in such a way as to neglect or harm the trees is the exact equivalent of the crime you're already guilty of.  I will not be dissuaded from arresting you a second time."

"Whatever," the guy said.

David turned to the dean.  "This one's in your hands now.  If he fails to live up to the punishment, I expect to be notified."

"Of course," Dean Lengel said, nodding in understanding and, more importantly, subordination.

David nodded in return, and then he turned and left the scene.  He was dissatisfied with the outcome.  He would much rather have arrested the shit-for-brains.

Sometimes respecting the opinion of others is a royal pain in the ass.

"Isobel Gowdie?" David asked.

The woman before them looked to be in her mid-fifties, in Earth terms, or perhaps as old as ninety with the aid of youth magic.  She seemed fairly normal, if a bit overly casual, dressed in a baggy overshirt and capris, with flip-flops on her feet.

"Yes?" she replied.  Her voice was high, but smooth.  She didn't come across as an evil murderer, but David knew not to trust that.

"Could we come in?  We have a few questions we'd like to ask you," he told her.

"Well, certainly.  Though it's such a lovely day, why don't we just sit out here on the porch?"

"As you wish," David said, though he now desperately wanted to know what she was hiding in the house.

Isobel closed the front door and directed David and Chloe, who was with him, to chairs on the porch.  She settled on a stool herself.

"Now, what can I do for you officers?"

"Ms. Gowdie, we'd like to get confirmation on some things we've heard during one of our investigations," David said.  "Are you, in fact, a necromancer?"

"That seems a bit of a personal question, isn't it?" she asked reasonably.

"Perhaps, but the issue we're investigating is rather serious, and we do need to clear these things up.  Let me be clear that there is no law against necromancy, though some of its darker rites involve the commission of crimes.  So, are you a necromancer?"

"Yes, I am," she said after a pause.  "I have been for some while now."

"For how long, ma'am?" Chloe asked.

"Oh, I don't remember exactly.  Since I was in my twenties.  That was quite a number of years ago."

"Yes, ma'am," David said.  "Recently, you purchased a set of blood candles from a shop north of here, called Dark Talismans and Herbs."

"Yes, I did.  I buy from them often.  Is it important?"

"Do you still have the set?" David asked.

"No.  I bought them for a specific ritual, you see, and I always buy them right before performing the ritual.  As you might not know, they don't have the most pleasant of aroma, and I don't like to keep them in the house."

David nodded.  Chloe took notes.

"This ritual, can you tell us what it was for?"

"Just a bit of youth magic," she said.  "Got to keep up my girlish figure."  She smiled at him and winked.  David grinned briefly, but made no other acknowledgment.

"Do you travel much, Ms. Gowdie?" David asked.

"Oh, now and again.  Perhaps two or three times a year.  I'm mostly a homebody, though.  Is it important?"

"Have you ever traveled as far north as, say, Treacle?"

"Oh, heavens, yes.  I have a cousin that lives up in Connery.  That's just south of Ramius, if you're not familiar.  I visit her once every couple years."

David nodded.  "So you know the northeast fairly well, then?"

"As well as any other traveler, I would imagine."

"Very good.  Now, Ms. Gowdie, your employer tells us that you were absent from your job on the days of September 30th and October 1st.  Can you tell us why?"

David watched for any reaction.  He saw a slight change in Isobel's features.  "I'm not sure how that's any of your business, officer," she said, her voice losing some of its lilt.

David shrugged and said, "As I stated at the beginning, our case is quite serious.  Any of these details could be important."

Isobel sighed.  "Very well.  I was visiting another relative.  A niece of mine, she lives in Buffalo.  That's in New York.  In Earth," she said, rather snidely.

"I'm familiar with Buffalo, ma'am.  I was born in Illinois," David replied matter-of-factly.  "Your niece's name?"

"Joan Wytte."

David nodded.  "And was this just a social visit?"

"No.  She was getting a divorce, and I had to help her move to a new house."

"Still in Buffalo?"

"Yes."

David nodded.  Chloe made more notes.

"Well," David said with a sigh, "I doubt that's going to help our case much.  It's unlikely you saw anything going on here, if you were in Earth.  Just out of curiosity, ma'am... why are you taking today off?"

"It's a necromantic holiday.  I always take this day off every year."

"Really?  What does the holiday celebrate?" Chloe asked curiously.

"It celebrates the divinity of the demonic race," she said quietly, with sincerity and a fair bit of reverence.

Chloe just stared, then nodded and made more notes.

"We're sorry to have taken up your time, Ms. Gowdie," David said.  "If we should have further questions of you, we'll be in touch."

"Certainly," she said.  "Good day, officers."

David and Chloe walked back down the lane as Isobel went back into her home.

"What do you think?" David asked her.

"She doesn't really seem the murdering type."

"Looks and manner can be deceiving," David warned.

"Yeah, but she has an alibi."

"Only if it checks out," David said.  "And that's something we will look into."

"Well, Ms. Gowdie is guilty of something, and I wouldn't bet against it being the murder of Linda Edwards."

"How do you know she's guilty of something?" Joe asked.

"Well, I checked her story.  She does, in fact, have a niece in Earth.  That niece at one time lived in Buffalo."

"At one time?" Chloe asked, sensing the coming revelation.

"That niece moved to Miami."

"When?" Joe asked.

"Fourteen years ago."

"Whoops," Joe said.  "Not like she could have goofed by that much."

"Did she really think we wouldn't check?" Chloe asked.

"According to records," David said, "That woman has lived in that house for the last fifty-three years.  She probably has forgotten that people move from place to place."

"But if she wasn't with her niece, all we'd have had to do was ask," Chloe objected.

"Probably figured either that we would stop looking once we saw that she had a niece in Buffalo, or that her niece would just automatically back up her claim."

"If you're gonna commit murder, seems like you'd be a little more sure of these things," Chloe said.

"Agreed," David said.  "And that makes me wonder if she's killed before."

"Why do you say that?" Joe asked.

"The first time you break the law, you're nervous as all fuck, right?  The bigger the crime, the more nervous you are.  But after the first time, the second time's not quite so bad.  The fifth time, you maybe have a few butterflies... the tenth time, you're probably starting to think it's old hat... and by the twentieth time, you maybe even stop thinking of it as a crime.  It's just, 'what you do.'"

"You think this woman's killed twenty others?" Chloe asked, flabbergasted.

"I think it's possible.  I have no proof.  She could merely be totally incompetent at committing crimes.  But the way she handled us today... she was calm.  She wasn't faking that; she was totally calm."

"How do you know?" Joe asked.

"Divination.  I could sense her emotional state.  She was at ease with us, as if she had no concern at all that we would discover her crime."

"You didn't hit her with any stress questions, though, did you?" Joe pointed out.

"No.  I intentionally didn't mention Burton, or murder, or imply that she'd done it.  I was kind of trying for the impression that we thought she might have witnessed something."

"But if we just thought she was a witness, why wouldn't we just come out and ask her if she saw... whatever it was supposed to be?" Chloe asked.

"It's not always in a cop's best interest to reveal the nature of his investigation," David said.  "And she is old enough to know that."

"How old is she?" Joe asked.

"Believe it or not, we don't know.  Her birth records are mysteriously absent."

"That's... not possible," Joe objected.

"Don't tell me.  Tell the Office of Vital Statistics."

"That's incredible.  Whether she's our murderer or not, you need to figure out why she has no birth record.  Check this woman out six ways to Sunday."

"Will do.  Oh, McKenna..." David said, seeing the auditor walk by.

"What do you want, Stroud?" McKenna sneered.

David held out a scroll of parchment.  "Would you like to read my report before I send it off to your boss?"

"What bullshit are you talking?"  McKenna snatched the scroll out of David's hand, and started to read it.  His grip on the parchment stiffened as he read, crinkling the edges.

Once he had finished with it, he stared daggers at David.  "This report will never leave this office!  You have no right!"  McKenna tried to tear the scroll, but David had magically protected it from that.

David snapped his fingers, and the scroll disappeared from McKenna's hands, and appeared in David's.

"I have every right.  Everything in this report is factual and accurate.  You can answer to your own bureaucracy for your behavior."

David dialed his mirror and said, "Auditor General's office."

McKenna watched in consternation as a face he knew all too well appeared in the mirror.  "Auditor General's office, Karen speaking."

"Yes, ma'am.  Is your desk free of obstructions?"

"Pardon?"

"Is your desk clear?"

"Oh.  Yes, why?"

"I'm sending you a report on the actions of one Douglas McKenna."

"I see.  Well, go right ahead, then."

David concentrated, looking deep into the mirror.  He squeezed his hand around the scroll for a second, then opened his hand.  As he did, the scroll disappeared in a flash of light.

"Oh!" Karen said on the other end of the connection.  "I have a scroll here now.  Is this you... Officer Intern Stroud?"

"Yes, ma'am.  Please make sure that gets to the right office, would you?"

"Certainly.  Good day, Officer."

"To you, too, ma'am."

David fogged off with Karen, and then turned to McKenna.  "What's the matter, did you think I was blowing smoke like you do?  I've told you for a week that I was filing a report on you.  I meant it."

"You fucking asshole," McKenna said.

"What, no threat this time?" David said with a grin.  "I'm sure you'll find another job.  Perhaps ditch digger... no, as full of shit as you are, you'd never actually make an empty hole.  Oh well, not really my problem.  Have a nice day."

McKenna couldn't even snarl.  He stormed off in mute rage.

"Now that was classy," Joe said to David.

David just laughed.

"David, you've got another one," Nancy said, handing him a small scrap of parchment.

"You've got to be kidding me," Chloe said.  "We get any more cases, and my head's gonna explode!"

David looked at the paper.  "I think this might be an ongoing case," he said.

"How so?" Joe asked.

"It's a burglary, on Dragonview Terrace."

"Yow, that's a hell of a neighborhood," Joe said.

"Yeah.  Let's go."

Joe, David and Chloe headed out of the office and made their way over to the home of one Jonathan Banner.  They found him in the great room of his home, staring at a mess.

"Mr. Banner?" David said.

The man turned to see the Rimohrs standing with his maid, who had let them in.

"Oh, thank the tivaru you're here!  Look at this mess!"

"Can you tell us what happened?" David asked.

"I was at work.  Mary had gone to the market," he said, motioning to the maid, "to get food for dinner.  When she came back, she found this mess and called me.  I called you."

"Have you touched anything?"

"I admit I did.  I picked up a few broken items before I came to my senses."  He motioned to the broken items in question, which he'd set on a coffee table.

"How did the burglar get in?"

"I think through the window in the back hallway.  It's open now, and I'm certain it was shut when I arose this morning."

"Are you sure you'd have noticed?"

"I walk down that hallway to get to the dining room.  As it is a bit cold out today, and I was in my bathrobe, I think I would have noticed."

David nodded.  "We'll check it out.  Do you know what was taken?"

"Two vases.  A golden idol, a silver tea service, some dragon bone utensils... oh, and a cellphone... do you know what that is?"

"Quite familiar, as I own one," David said with a smirk.  "Why do you have a cellphone?"

"I do business in Earth frequently."

"Where did you keep the phone?"

"In a drawer in my office."

"Was the drawer locked?"

"No... I never thought it needed to be."

"Do you have any business enemies who might want the information on your phone?"

"Other than a list of phone numbers, there isn't any information on it.  I only use it to remember how to contact people.  I keep no business information of any kind on it.  That fact is known to those who work with me."

David nodded.  Chloe asked, "Do you happen to know a man named Robert Crane?"

"Yes... in fact, two of the stolen items were purchased from his import shop.  Did he have something to do with this?" Banner asked angrily.

"No.  Mr. Crane was, in fact, victimized himself last week.  But it's an interesting coincidence that you know each other, and you both had cellphones.  Would he have had your number in his phone?"

"I don't know.  Possibly."

"Do you have a backup list of the numbers you kept in your phone?"

"Not an already-compiled one, but I could put together the list from my files."

"We'd appreciate that.  Now, we're going to take a look around, to see if the burglars left any clues."

Banner nodded, and went to sit on the sofa.  The maid went to make him some tea.

The first place David went was the hallway window.  Chloe went with him, while Joe looked elsewhere for clues.

"Yeah, looks like this is where they came in," David said.  He pointed to the window frame.  "See the marks?"

"That looks like they used a thin blade... like a knife or something.  Don't these guys have any magic?"

"Don't know.  Maybe they think magic is too easy to trace."

"Boy are they wrong," Chloe grumped.

David just smiled at her.  A moment later, Joe appeared outside the window.

"We've got footprints back here," he said.

"We'll be right out," David said.

In the end, they were able to track the prints to the back wall of the estate, but there was nothing on the other side of the wall.  No fingerprints were found, and no other clues came to light, either.

As they headed back to the office, Chloe looked over the list of names that Mr. Banner had provided.

Joe asked, "You think it's the same guy?"

"Got to be.  Too many coincidences otherwise."

"I'm gonna agree with you this time.  Chloe, when we get in, mirror the records office and find out if any names on that list are wizards.  Then, call Mr. Crane, and see if he can provide a list of the people in his phone, and compare that list, too."

"You got it."

"What do you want me to do?" David asked.

"Honestly?  Keep working on the other cases.  This one only needs one of us running it down at the moment."

"Shouldn't we have interviewed the neighbors, to see if they heard or saw anything?" Chloe asked.

"What neighbors?  The nearest occupied building to that house was nearly a quarter mile away.  On the other side of a six-foot tall privacy wall," Joe replied.

"Okay, I see your point," she said.

"This is gonna be a tough one to crack, unless we can get a line on the phone names," David said.

"Yeah," Joe agreed.

"Isobel Gowdie?" David said.  His voice was far more businesslike and stern than his last meeting with the woman.

"You again.  What is it this time?"

"I have a King's Order to search your home.  Please step outside."

"No!  You have no right!"  She slammed the door shut in his face, and he heard her lock it.

David turned to Joe.  "You want me to be gentle, or quick?"

"Quick.  She might be destroying evidence."

David nodded, and turned back.  He pointed his wand and barked, "Arieti!"  The door was blown off its hinges and landed halfway across the room.

Isobel screamed in panic and ran down a hallway.  David followed her more slowly, just in case she decided to get nasty.  He found her cowering in a work room.

"Don't hurt me!" she screamed.

"I have no intention of hurting you, which is more than you can say for those you meet.  Now, please accompany Officer Kirkland out to your porch, where you will wait while we conduct our search."

Chloe escorted the woman to the front, and David turned to Joe.

"You want to start back here, or should I?"

"I'll take the front and work back."

David nodded, and then he moved over to the woman's desk.  He tried to be as neat as he could; there was no point in trashing the place.  Still, he had to pull pretty much everything out of drawers and closets, so there was going to be a mess for someone to clean up.  David was quite sure that Isobel Gowdie was not going to be staying at her home this evening.

Other than a bunch of very old books, some creepy talismans and a decrepit cat, there was nothing to be found in the work room.  David moved on to the woman's bedroom, hoping that perhaps he'd find something there.

"David," Joe called out.  "You want to come up here?"

David went down the hall to where Joe was standing in front of a locked door.  "I can't get this damned thing open, even with avatavana."

David's eyes went a little wide.  Avatavana was a much more powerful unlocking spell than avata, and was supposed to be able to burn through most lock hexes.  But apparently not this one.

"I guess we just bust it down," David said.

Joe held up his hand, and called Chloe to bring Isobel into the house.  Once she had joined them, Joe gestured to the door and asked, "You want to unlock it, or lose it?"

"Excuse me?" Isobel asked.

"If you don't unlock the door, we will destroy the door, in order to see what's behind it."

"By what authority do you threaten my home?" she demanded.

"By the authority of the King of Callamandia and the Council of Wizards," Joe replied.  "We are executing a duly authorized King's Order, and you are required to comply."

The woman sighed.  "The door isn't locked."

"Excuse me?" Joe asked incredulously.

"It isn't locked.  It slides sideways.  The hinges are mere decoration."

Joe looked at David, then took hold of the doorknob and pulled to the left.  Sure enough, the door moved aside.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Gowdie," David said, and motioned Chloe to take her back outside.

Behind the door was a small room filled with cabinets.  They started to go through drawers.  It didn't take long before Joe found something.

"What the... David, look at this."

David was reading a document, and so he glanced up to see what Joe had.

"It's a wizarding license... how come her picture doesn't look like her?" he asked as he returned to the document he had been looking at.

"Look at the name," Joe said, drawing David's attention back.

"Linda Edwards," David said, closing his eyes.  They had her cold now.

"David, there are dozens of these in here."  Joe stepped aside and showed him.  The drawer was littered with wizarding licenses and other odd items.

"Trophies," David said.  "I guess she is a serial killer."

David returned to the papers he had been looking at.  Despite the very damning evidence of the licenses, they needed to keep looking.  What he saw in front of him, however, seemed impossible.

"Joe?" he said.

"What's up?"

"I found Isobel Gowdie's birth record.  She must have stolen it from the OVS."

"Another thing to bust her on.  This just gets better and better."

"Joe..."

"What?  You look like you've seen a mortessor."

David turned to him.  "Isobel Gowdie was born in 1502."

"David, I found this.  What do you think?" Chloe asked him.

David took the file.  Chloe was currently working on the daubentonian slaver case.  What she had uncovered was a list of businesses owned by the slaver.  These businesses had been hidden through various means, both legal and shady.

"This looks good.  I'd say start out by trying to find out how hands-on he is with each of these.  If he's there regularly, then there's a chance we might catch him.  If they haven't seen him in six months, then we're not likely to, either."

"Right.  How would you suggest I get that information without alerting him to what we're doing?"

"Uh... by being very discreet and inventive?" he offered.

Chloe chuckled.  "Right.  I'll think of something."

David leaned back and rubbed his eyes.  He was working on the burglaries, himself, and it was giving him a headache.  He rolled his head around and twisted it side to side.  As he did, he happened to look over at the desk where McKenna usually sat.

"Hey, have you seen McKenna today?"

"Nope," Chloe replied.

"That's weird.  That asshole's not missed a day since he got here."

"Maybe he finished," she said.

David snorted.  "Yeah, right."

At that point, David's mirror buzzed.  He pulled it out to see Tracy on the other end of the connection.

"Hey, Tracy.  What can I do for the dean today?"

"Hello, David.  Dean Lengel needs you to come to her office as soon as you can.  There is an issue with Miss Aberlin."

David groaned.  "Okay, I'll be there in about a half-hour.  I'm in Bolmont at the moment."

"Very good.  I'll let her know you're on your way."

David fogged off, and then got up.  To Chloe, he said, "Let Joe know where I went.  Depending on what this is all about, I may not be back today."

"Good luck," Chloe told him.

David just grunted.

"Good morning, David," Dean Lengel said as he entered her office.

"Madame Dean," David said, since there were others in the room.  "Sorry for the delay.  I was out of town."

"Yes, Tracy told me.  We seem to have a small issue with our young Miss Aberlin."

"What did she do?"

"Why do you assume I did something?" Christa whined.

David turned to her.  "Because Dean Lengel wouldn't have called me if something had just been done to you.  And, frankly, because I know you."

Christa stomped her foot and harrumphed.  David saw another girl, whose shirt was torn and she had a split lip.

"What happened?" David asked her.

"I... don't really want to say.  I don't want to get in trouble with the king," she told him.

"You let me worry about the king," David said.  "What happened?"

"I was standing in line at the snack bar, and she comes barging up through the line like she's queen herself.  She nearly knocked me down.  When I objected, she pushed me away and told me to mind my manners.  She told me to mind my manners!  Well, I pushed her back.  Then, she turned and backhanded me.  After that, there was some smacking and hair pulling... then security showed up."

"Uh-huh."  David turned to Christa.  "Well?"

"I was in a hurry.  I had a class to get to," she said archly.

"And... you don't think anyone else there was in a hurry?"

"Obviously not.  They were just standing there!"

"You mean, they were behaving like polite adults, instead of a spoiled brat?"

Christa slapped David, hard.  "I do not have to tolerate your insults!  I am the king's daughter!"

David slapped Christa back, twice as hard as she'd hit him.  "I don't take that kind of crap from anybody," he snarled menacingly.  "You slap me again, and you will have a permanent imprint of my hand on your cheek.  I told you once, who your parents are doesn't mean shit here.  You are an inconsiderate, bungling novice who hasn't got any right whatsoever to demand that anyone treat her with deference.  Furthermore, you have absolutely no authority to order people about.  Hell, Tracy out there has more authority at this school than you do!"

Christa was still reeling from being slapped by David.  His anger washed over her, and she was actually concerned for her safety.  Her eyes were watering from the pain, and from the fear.

David took a deep breath and forced himself to turn away from Christa, and back to Dean Lengel.  "I apologize for my language, Madame Dean."

"But not for slapping her."

"Not in the slightest," David said.

Dean Lengel nodded.  "What am I supposed to do with her?"

"Throw her in detention.  What else?"

"You wouldn't dare!" Christa snarled.

"David... I don't really want to get in trouble with the king, either..."

"Ma'am, in order for her to get you into trouble, she would have to tell him what she got put in detention for.  While I'm quite sure she would lie to make herself sound innocent, I'm also quite sure that the king would ask me what happened.  As our stories would differ, and as I have nothing to gain from lying, I imagine that the king would believe me instead.  More importantly, you're going to have to put up with this particular student for another four years.  Do you really want to start walking on eggshells around her this early?"

"No.  No, I most certainly do not," Dean Lengel said.  "You're right.  Christa Aberlin, you are sentenced to three days of detention for fighting.  Your sentence is to begin immediately.  You will wait in the outer office for security to come and escort you to the detention house."

"I can't believe you're doing this to me," Christa said.  She was looking at David when she said it, not the dean.

David looked back at her.  "Learn something."

After Christa left the room, David turned to the other girl.  He pulled out his wand and fixed her torn shirt.

"You'll have to ask Healer Hall about the split lip.  I don't trust my healing skills well enough for that."

"Thanks, anyway, for the shirt.  The lip'll heal itself."

"You can go," Dean Lengel said.

After the girl left, Dean Lengel said, "Are you sure the king won't object to this?"

"No," David said with a grin.

"David..." Dean Lengel said pitifully.

David chuckled.  "He knows that Christa is pushing the envelope.  He has to know that she's going to do things that get her into trouble.  It is unlikely that he expected you to let her troublemaking go without punishment."

"I hope you're right."

"C'mon, I'll buy you lunch.  You'll feel better."

"Lunch is free," she objected.

"In which case, you can have as much of it as you want!"

"All right, listen up!" Agent Keef announced.  The officers in the bull pen all turned to see what was going on.  Keef said, "As of yesterday afternoon, McKenna has been removed from the audit of Bolmont Division.  He has also been suspended from his job without pay, for violation of proper procedure while conducting an audit.  This is Neil Mackey, the new auditor."

Mackey said, "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.  I understand that your work files were confiscated by McKenna.  That was a gross violation of protocol.  Those files will be returned to you as soon as I can sort out which ones are which.  I will be interviewing each of you, one at a time.  Before that happens, I will ask to look through your files, so they will be unavailable to you for... oh, maybe half a day.  Before and after that, you may continue with your work.

"It will probably take me the rest of today to get files sorted, so those of you who aren't working with Officer Stroud might as well go home.  Your files will be on your desks in the morning."

There was some murmuring among the officers as Mackey walked over to where David was sitting.

"Officer Stroud?"

"Yeah?" David asked, trying to be polite.

"I realize I do not have the authority to evaluate your work, but if you could make some time later this week for some interviews, it would be appreciated.  I would like to get your perspective as it relates to the procedures of others."

David nodded.  "Okay.  Let me know when, and I'll do my best to be available."

"Thank you," Mackey said, and headed back to the desk McKenna had been using.

"Since when are you going to cooperate with the audit?" Joe asked.

"Since he asked nicely, rather than demanding something he has no right to," David said.  "Now, can we get back to this necromancer case?  We've only got a week or so to make sure we've got enough to convict her."

"You sure this is safe?" Lydia asked.  She was currently sitting atop one of the pegs from the school's herd.  It was one that was not partnered with a rider.  David thought it wasn't about to be partnered today, either.  He tried not to grin.

"Perfectly safe, as long as you don't jump off," David called back.  "Broomstick is one of the gentlest whinnies in the herd."

"Maybe so, but does he realize I'm back here?  'Cause it didn't seem like he was too concerned when I climbed aboard."

"Trust me, he knows.  We're almost there, anyway."

David pointed forward and down, to a wide valley with a stream running through it.  Cupcake started to descend, heading for a large meadow.  She came to a soft landing, trotting along until she could easily stop.  Broomstick's landing was a bit less practiced; he wasn't used to having a rider.  Lydia held onto his mane for dear life.

Once she'd slid off the whinnie, she asked, "And you do this all the time?"

David grinned.  "Broomstick needs practice.  And so do you.  It gets much easier when the rider and the peg know each other well.  I don't even hold on when I'm riding Cupcake, I just kind of rest my hands on her."

"That sounds crazy," Lydia said.

David shook his head.  "It's just a matter of trust.  I trust she won't do anything dangerous without warning me first.  Of course, I also trust her to catch me if I fall off because she had to do something crazy to keep herself safe."

"He would have caught me if I fell off?  Why didn't you tell me that?"

"Because he wouldn't have.  He doesn't know you well enough to try it.  It's a dangerous thing for the peg."

"Not exactly safe for the rider, either," Lydia grumped.

David chuckled.  "Come on, let's enjoy the day.  They're calling for snow tomorrow, so this is likely the last clear day for the year."  David led her over to a patch of soft grass, and settled down.  He pulled Jailla out of his pack, and restored him from his static form as a crystal statue.  Jailla stretched and chirped, and flew off to a nearby lagoonberry bush.

"Why did you bring him along?  He can't have enjoyed the trip."

"He doesn't mind being statue-ized anymore.  And I figured he'd like to get out and see some different trees and bushes for a change.  Don't you take your bat out at night?"

"I let him fly on his own.  Wherever he goes isn't my concern."

"Jailla and I are a bit more connected than that, I guess.  I like to let him go where I go, whenever I can."

"So, what's our plan for the day?  This would be a nice place for a bit of fun, if it wasn't in the forties..."

"Does cold bother you?" David asked.

"Yes.  It slows our system down.  We are somewhat ectothermic."

"I didn't know that.  Well, in that case, we will forego any 'fun in the sun', and just enjoy the nature... and that gives us more time for peg riding."

"Oh, joy," Lydia said.

"Come on, it's fun, once you get used to it."

"If you say so."

"We'll leave our lunch here.  I can show you what real peg riding looks like."

"Uh..."

"Don't worry, I won't make you attempt any of it.  Broomstick wouldn't cooperate, anyway.  But Cupcake hates the boring kind of flying we did to get here."

"That was boring?  She was swooping all over the place!"

David snorted.  "Come on.  Let me show you."

David stood ready, his staff in his hand, but held along his side.  His eyes moved back and forth, trying to see in the darkness.  His mind reached out, sensing his opponents.  There were six of them, and they had him surrounded.

David twisted his wrist, bringing his staff up into a horizontal posture.  He then crouched, ready to leap in whatever direction was necessary.  His dream was victory.  His goal was remaining conscious.

Just before the first gargoyle landed on top of him, David leapt clear.  He planted one hand and flipped back upright, but he didn't turn to face that opponent.  He knew the first one was trying to get him rattled, to catch him off guard.

The second one came more slowly, but also with more accuracy.  David deflected the blow with his staff, being shoved only a few feet.  He engaged his fiery buckler, and now he could see the monster before him.  A huge stone hand came toward him, and he raised his arm, using the shield to block it.  His knees gave slightly under the power, but David didn't waver; he thrust his staff forward and caught the gargoyle in the midsection.  A magical blast of energy tossed him off his feet, and David jumped away from this attacker.

The third and fourth gargoyles were waiting their opportunity, and they each came at him from a different side.  Biding his time and planning carefully, he chose his moment and then rolled, casting a deflection hex that sent one gargoyle flying into the other, causing both of them to roll along the ground.

David was up in a flash, as he knew that the fifth gargoyle was, in fact, Goliath.  A rush of air announced the giant's plunge from the sky.  David didn't take the time to look up, but maneuvered clear first, then fired several blasts of energy.  They bounced off Goliath's tough hide, and he landed, uninjured.

Turning to face David, Goliath advanced, his arms extended, his tail whipping back and forth, whether as a weapon being prepared, or merely as a distraction, David didn't know.  When the attack came, David almost wasn't ready for it.  Goliath's claws encircled David's neck and the momentum pushed him to the ground.  In a flash, David had his knees up, and got his feet planted firmly into Goliath's midsection.  He used his legs to continue the tumble until he was on top.  A massive blast of energy broke Goliath's grip and sent David hurtling through the air.  This he was ready for, and he landed safely some thirty feet away.

The last gargoyle was the fastest by far, and David was off his feet in less than a second.  He could barely make out the rapid movements of the serpentine guardian as it slipped and slithered around him.

David got to one knee, but chose not to rise right away.  Standing up would only beg for another such attack.  Instead, he chanted a speed charm on himself, and then he blasted jets of cold air around himself, as Bushmaster was not fond of the cold.

Taking advantage of the temporary reduction in his enemy's speed, David launched himself forward.  He dare not try to grapple with the snake-like winged gargoyle, and hitting him would just make him angry.  The best he could hope for, as far as he'd figured out, was to outsmart him.

David planted a foot on Bushmaster's back and leapt forward, moving toward the four statues in the courtyard.  The gargoyle followed, whipping around and trying to spoil David's footing, but the charm he'd cast was helping immensely, and his movements were lightning quick and rock-steady.

David jumped amid the four statues, standing right in the middle of them.  Bushmaster lunged, but David jumped to one side.  The gargoyle's momentum carried him clear of the carvings.  David remained next to one of them, so Bushmaster circled around.

Immediately, David ran back into the center of the statues.  The gargoyle followed.  Now there was a brief chase.  David continued to weave in and out of the statuary until finally he had managed to get Bushmaster so jumbled up that he couldn't free himself from the figures.

"Too bad, old man," David said.  He couldn't gloat, however, as this fight was not over.  Though the other five gargoyles had waited while David and Bushmaster had tangled, they were merely biding their time.  The first gargoyle thrust forward, hitting David from the side.  The two of them slid along the ground, until David was able to grab the gargoyle's arm and, using a strength charm, threw him sideways.  David came to a stop shortly after that, and got to his feet.

Knowing that he would not get a breather this time, David immediately tried to sense where the others were.  He still could not see anything, for it was a dark night, the moon having set already.

Something thudded into his back, and he nearly broke his nose as he hit the dirt.  A quick push spell sent him and his attacker flying upward.  The gargoyle did not attempt to hold onto him, and so David cast another spell to help him land without breaking his legs.

The two gargoyles who worked together came at him next, but this time they stayed in front of him, rather than attacking from the sides.  The one spun, whipping his tail out at David, but David leapt over it toward the gargoyle, connecting with his staff and sending the spinning creature to the ground.  David landed on top of him, and immediately launched himself at the gargoyle's partner, who had not been expecting such a rapid counterattack.  That gargoyle was quickly on the ground, as well, and David moved clear.

Sensing danger, David dropped to the ground quickly, and Goliath missed him by inches, swooping low along the ground.  David blasted at the giant gargoyle, and Goliath swerved sideways to miss the attack.

There was at least one other gargoyle still active, so David could not get involved in a long engagement with Goliath.  He reached out with his divination and sought out the other gargoyle.  He could feel him nearby, not moving, just waiting.

Instead of standing up, David focused his attention, and used his terramandy.  He sent a wave of disturbance through the ground, causing a small ripple to race outward.  When it reached the gargoyle, a scream was heard as he was thrown off his feet.

David was immediately up and running for the gargoyle.  He jumped up and then landed on the gargoyle's chest, slamming the tip of his staff right where the heart would be, and firing a massive energy blast that actually lifted him back off the gargoyle.

Now, as far as he could tell, he only had one opponent left.  But what an opponent.

The ground shuddered slightly as Goliath landed.  David crouched as he moved forward, trying to keep himself ready for anything.  His eyes, ears, and his mind were all straining for any sign of treachery, anyone sneaking up behind him, or any trick that Goliath himself might play.

The attack came in a direct fashion.  Goliath lunged forward and slightly up, then arced back down.  He hit David in the shoulder, driving him into the ground.  David could feel his shoulder break.  He screamed despite himself; the pain was intense.

Goliath did not relent, but continued to pummel David further and further downward.

Fighting through the pain, David looked up at the huge beast above him.  He tried to think as best he could of something to try.  Pichac had no effect.  He couldn't slip free; Goliath had gripped his shoulders.

In desperation, David slammed the butt of his staff into the ground and shouted, "Extend!"  The staff increased in length from six feet to over twenty.  Goliath was thrown back up into the sky.

But he didn't let go of David.

David was now hurtling through the sky, Goliath still clinging to him.  He had lost control of his staff when he left the ground, and he couldn't reach his wand.  He had nothing left to cast spells with.

In a last ditch effort, David raised his hand and formed an energy ball.

"You know that is too weak to harm me!" Goliath snarled.

David said nothing, but shoved his hand forward.  The ball of energy contacted Goliath's face and exploded.  It did no harm to him, but the flash blinded him, causing disorientation that forced him to let go of David.  David pushed himself free of the giant, but this only meant that when he hit the ground, there wasn't another five hundred pounds of gargoyle on top of him.

David collapsed on contact, and his shoulder struck a rock.  He screamed one last time, and then passed out.

When David came to, there were fireflies in the courtyard.  All six gargoyles stood nearby.  Healer Hall and Olissa both knelt over him.  Prof. Teller and JoAnne were standing farther away.  Dean Lengel and a handful of professors were also there.

"He's awake," Olissa said to the others.

"What hurts?" Annie asked him.

"It'd be a shorter list," David groaned, "if you ask me what doesn't hurt..."

Annie frowned, and presented him with Naproxen Ghostium.  "Take this."

David did, and felt the relief wash over him.  He praised himself for inventing the stuff; it was saving him a lot of suffering.

As he tried to rise, he realized that he was in ghost form.

Broken collarbone... yeah, no wonder.

"Can you tell me what's broken?" Annie asked as he stood up.

"My shoulder's all screwed up.  My left knee hurts.  Probably pulled a few muscles.  Nothing really serious."

"Nothing really serious!" Annie cried.  "What has to happen to you for it to be serious?"

David looked at her calmly and said, "You already saw that, remember?"

Annie took a deep breath; the memory of his gunshot wound still made her queasy.

"I'll be fine," he told her.  "But I failed.  Again."

"You did not," Goliath said.

"What do you mean?  I got knocked out.  You've always considered that a failure."

"David, do you honestly believe that you can beat me without relying on serious magic?"

"Well... no.  You're like three times my weight and at least twice as fast and four or five times as strong..."

"Exactly.  Tonight I simply kept pushing you until you couldn't withstand the strain.  There was no hope of you remaining conscious, because I would not have stopped while you were."

"Then... how am I ever supposed to pass this test?"

"You already passed this test.  You stood toe to toe with six gargoyles, and defeated five of them.  If the sixth had not been me, you probably would have managed to beat the sixth.  You are as skilled in our tactics as you can be, for a human.  Remember, however, not to neglect your other traits.  You have abilities we do not.  You are a wizard; we have very limited magic.  You are a demighost.  You can become invisible, insubstantial, and you can do these things quickly.  Use it to your advantage.  We did not allow you these things while training, because you would not learn our methods that way.  Now that you have learned what we can teach you, it is your responsibility to incorporate all of what you know into your own combat style.  I dare say, if you can fully merge all of your skills, you will be a most formidable opponent for anyone who dares challenge you."

Goliath held out his hand, and David took it, interacting with him even in ethereal form.

"Thank you, all of you, for your help.  I only hope it's enough."

Goliath nodded, and then the six gargoyles leapt into the sky, returning to their posts on top of the castle tower.

Turning, he saw Prof. Teller and JoAnne approaching.

"I didn't know you guys were here," David admitted.

"I wouldn't have missed it.  Most impressive, David.  In fact, I think that you have certainly earned your combat master's certificate.  I don't, in fact, teach courses in it here at the school, but I am a certified instructor for the military.  Though you didn't take my class, you were certainly trained by an expert.  I myself wouldn't dare to go up against a single gargoyle, let alone six of them at once.  In any case, I will have the paperwork filed in the morning.  You should receive your certification within a few days."

"Thank you, Professor," David said.

JoAnne just looked at him.  "I'm never sparring with you again," she told him seriously, then smiled.

David chuckled.

After that, the professors all came over to congratulate him.  It was a mixed moment; he was happy to have the recognition, after the hellish training he'd put in, but he was also in a fair bit of discomfort, and couldn't use his left arm.  He hoped it would be healed by morning.

And I just hope it's enough.

David stopped the glidetruck and paused, taking a deep breath.  He was only going to the market for some supplies, but the trip had a more momentous meaning than that.

Olissa sat quietly, waiting for him to get out of the truck so she could follow him, but he just sat for a moment.  Finally, he turned to her.

"Can you hand me that box in the back seat?"

Olissa reached back and grabbed a polished wooden box.  It was about ten inches square, and only three inches thick.  It was locked by a charm.  She could tell because of the sparkles around the latch.  Handing it to David, she watched with curiosity.

"Reserama botay," David said quietly.  The sparkles burst in faint flashes, indicating the spell was broken.  He held the box for a long moment, then looked up at Olissa.

"For the last ten months, you have been my slave.  Are you still comfortable with that arrangement?"

Olissa said seriously, "I'm perfectly happy with the arrangement, Master."

David nodded.  "And you are willing to commit to serving me for the rest of your life?"

"I thought I had already done that.  Yes, I'm completely willing, Master."

David nodded one more time.  "Is there anything at all about our relationship that you would like to change?"

Olissa sat in thought for a long moment, then finally shook her head.  "No, Master.  I can't think of anything."

David fingered the box.  "Well, there's something that I think I'm ready for us to change."

"Master?"

"Up until now, your status in my... uh... 'household' has been known to a limited number of people.  Only those few who have been told about it, such as Sam, Gwen, and Flo.

"However, if we are to ever move to a place where you are truly my slave, where I am fully embracing that concept, then your status needs to become obvious to everyone."

"I'm not sure how we would do that, Master, but I'm more than willing to help however I can..."

David opened the box.  Because of how he was holding it, Olissa still could not see what was inside of it.  He ran his fingers over the object inside for a long moment, before pulling it out.

"I spent three weeks crafting this in my spare time," he said.  He set down the box, and now Olissa could see that what he held was a wide metal choker, or a collar.  It was made of silver.  On the front of it, in the middle of a circle of blue, was an owl.  Made from silver as well, its wings extended upwards into a vee, its eyes made of sapphires.  The owl sat, as if perched, on a sword which lay horizontally.  Above the owl's head, in the field of blue, were three chevrons topped by a single crescent.

On either side of the owl, outside of the blue circle, were two gold rings.  Superimposed over each gold ring was an old-fashioned key, done in black metal.

David handed the collar to Olissa, so she could feel it.  She ran her fingers gently over the decorations.

"What does this mean?" she asked, indicating the markings.

"The ring and key combination signifies our relationship.  The ring is you, and indicates your loyalty to me.  The key is me, and represents dominion and protection.  It is black to indicate prudence and constancy.

"The stuff in the middle is, for now, my personal crest.  If that should change in the future, I will alter your collar."

"Why an owl?" Olissa asked.

"Vigilance, wisdom - I hope," he said with a grin.  "Also, it's a bird of the night, and as I am a demighost..." he shrugged.  "The sword represents protection and courage.  And I kind of cheated.  The wings are also meant to represent protection, plus they're in the same posture as the wings of the Peg Riders Guild.  Blue is the color of loyalty, and of course, the chevrons and crescent are obvious.

"The point is, this collar identifies your owner... without actually using my name."

Olissa nodded, and turned the collar around, so that the opening was toward her.  She started to don the collar, but David stopped her.

"Be aware, this is your absolute last chance to back out of this relationship.  Once that collar goes around your neck, it will fuse itself shut.  The hinge will disappear, and the only way to remove it will be to destroy it.  Even I don't have a spell for getting it off of you without damaging it.  So once you put that on, that's it."

Olissa didn't hesitate for even a second, but slipped the collar in place.  She pushed the loose section into position, and heard the metal touch.  After that, a glow of light surrounded her neck for several seconds, and her hands were pushed away from the collar.  When the glow faded, she reached for the collar again, feeling the spot where the hinge had been, and where the opening had started.  Noting that both were now seamless metal, she smiled.

To David, she said, "This has always been what I wanted, David.  I've been waiting for you to claim me."

David nodded with a slight smile.  "One other change today," he said.

"Yes?"

"As far as you're concerned, I no longer have a name.  To you, I am only 'Master'."

Olissa smiled.  "Yes, Master."

David nodded to her, then he got out of the truck.  She did likewise, and moved quickly to join him.  She walked one step behind him, and one step to his left, just as he had instructed her months ago.  She carried a handbasket with her, so that they would have something to put their groceries in.  Even if David hadn't been her master, and so above such a menial task as carrying food, he was still suffering from the previous night's training battle, and his left arm was in a sling.

Olissa could feel the weight of her new collar around her neck.  She felt as though everyone was looking at it, at her.  She was mildly embarrassed to be the center of attention, if only in her own mind, but she was proud to be seen with her master.

As they entered the fruit market, David walked slowly, trying to be nonchalant.  In truth, he was fully aware that people were looking at them.  The silver collar around Olissa's neck nearly shone against her dark skin, and it was a fairly obvious symbol of her position.  It made him uneasy, but that was the point of the exercise; he needed to become more comfortable with who she was.

Over the course of the next hour, David collected all the ingredients for the dinner that Olissa had planned.  They were having Gwen and Jess over, just to socialize.  The pair were stopped no less than five times in that hour so that people could ask Olissa if she wanted them to report David to the Rimohrs.  David found this amazingly funny, but didn't bother to reveal his job description to the questioners.  Olissa handled each interruption in the same way, calmly explaining to the people that she had entered her position voluntarily, and that she would appreciate it if they would not waste any more of her master's time.

Once the food had been collected, David led Olissa back to the truck.  He climbed in his side, and let her deal with the groceries.  He could have easily whisked all of them into his Conjuring Room, but that would not have served the purpose of the exercise.

Once Olissa was settled, David said, "Very nicely done, Little One.  Remind me tonight that you deserve a reward."

"Yes, Master," she said with a grin.  She knew what her reward would be, and she was very much looking forward to it.

"Okay, so what about the burglaries?" Joe asked David.  They were once again in a Monday briefing.  David had already covered the other cases.

"So far, we have three burglaries that seem to be related.  First was Robert Crane, theft of some valuables and a cellphone.  Next, Jonathan Banner.  Again, some valuables and a cellphone.  Finally, last Friday, we had Marlyn Mason.  She lost some paintings, some other valuables, and once more, a cellphone.  Each of these three has had the others' numbers in their phones.  We've got to assume this is a burglary ring of some kind.  The method of entry has not been the same in the three thefts.  In the first, the house was unsecured, so method of entry could not be determined.  In the second, a window latch was slipped using what appears to be a knife or other thin-bladed object.  In the third, a lock was picked.  Please note that I said picked, not magically opened.  These folks seem to be relying on Earth-style entry techniques.

"Could they be technos?" Vivian asked.

"How would they have gotten here?" Joe asked.

"The leader of the group could be a wizard.  He could have brought them in to pull the jobs.  As technos, they wouldn't leave behind a magical signature for us to trace, plus they might think we were unfamiliar with their methods."

"It's a possibility, I suppose, but I don't really see much of a benefit to it," Joe objected.

"They've gotten away with three burglaries without much in the way of clues," David pointed out.  "Seems like a fair benefit to me..."

Joe just shrugged.

"In any case, we've turned up a couple shoe prints and one fingerprint."

"Only one?" Tom asked.

"It's entirely possible it's not even relevant to the case.  Miss Mason's maid has been ill, so the house had not been dusted in three days.  It could have easily been from a legitimate visitor.  We're trying to track them all down now."

"That's it?  A few prints?" Joe asked.

"We do magic, not miracles," David said.  "If there are more clues there, we didn't find them.  We're running down the list of names on all three cellphones that were stolen, to see who our potential future targets might be.  Other than that, we haven't really got much to go on."

"All right.  Well, do the best that you can.  Anyone got anything else?"

There was a negative murmur, and so Joe dismissed the group.

As everyone went back to their desks, Joe asked David, "Say, how did your interview with Mackey go last Friday?"

"Fine.  No real issues, until it got interrupted by the damned burglary.  I had to come back that evening and finish up with him."

"You rag on me any more?" Joe asked, needling David.

"Told him you keep making kissy faces at Chloe," David said.

Joe went white as a sheet.  "That's not funny!"

Chloe tried not to giggle.

"Liar," David said.  "She thinks it's hysterical."  He smiled at Joe.  "No, I didn't 'rag' on you any more.  That one time is the only time I've ever seen you seriously break the rules.  And I thank you for that one.  And so does Cat, I imagine."

"How did things turn out for her, anyway?" Joe asked.

"I told you about it... Geez, you really weren't listening.  She's married to Prof. Phillips now."

"Oh, yeah, right.  No, I heard you.  I'd just forgotten.  Neither of them was on campus when I was a student, so it's harder for me to remember things about them.  Less of a connection, you know?"

"Uh-huh.  Well, in any case, I have work to do.  And you have like three weeks of paperwork to finish," David said with a grin.

"Oh, shut up," Joe muttered.

"Well, that pretty much wraps it up, Agent Keef," Mackey said.  He handed him a scroll.  "These are my recommendations for improvements."

"What're you hanging us with, Sheriff?" David asked him.

Mackey chuckled.  "Not hanging you.  This division is about average, really.  The biggest thing I found, and it does need correcting, has to do with paperwork not being filed in a timely fashion.  Now, I get that you've got cases to handle, and paperwork isn't 'sexy', but it's still got to get done."

"Really?  That's the worst you can do is paperwork?" Keef asked.

Mackey grinned.  "Sorry, you guys don't screw up that bad most of the time.  If you want, I can try to make the screw-ups you do make, sound worse..."

"No, that's okay.  We'll settle for paperwork," Keef said with a grin.

Mackey turned to the officers, who had all gathered to find out the results of his audit.  "I want to thank all of you for your assistance... and your patience, having to do this twice.  Officer Stroud, I'd especially like to thank you, since you didn't even have to participate."

David nodded.

"In any case, you're all doing a fine job.  Not perfect, but really, we don't expect perfect.  We just expect that you'll try your best.  It seems as though you're doing that."

"One question, though," David asked.

"Yes?"

"Why did they want to conduct an audit now?"

"Apparently there was a complaint from someone.  I'm not privy to the details myself.  All I know is someone, somewhere, said the division needed looking at, so we looked."

David nodded.  With that, Mackey took his leave.

"So who's got it in for us?" Keef wondered aloud.

"One or two people come to mind," David said.

"Revenge, you think?" Keef asked him.

"Maybe.  Either that, or they're trying to throw the division into disarray so they can more easily pull off something big."

Keef lowered his voice.  "The Vrudenans?"

David shrugged.  "Our division does border Vrudenan territory for a ways.  It would make sense, if they plan to cause trouble, to keep us occupied, so we can't act as an additional intelligence-gathering unit for the government."

"Would there be any way for you to prove that?" Keef asked.

David snorted.  "Not a snowball's chance in Hell."

"Yeah, that's what I thought.  Could it be anything else?"

"You mean, other than the weres, or revenge?  Could just be someone screwing with us because they can."

"You're full of fun ideas," Keef noted glumly.

David shrugged.  "You didn't ask for sunshine, you asked for my opinion."

"True enough.  Okay, well, get back to work, you slacker.  And don't forget, you've got court tomorrow at ten."

"Yes, sir."

"Officer Stroud, could you tell the court, please, what evidence you collected at the scene?"

"Sure.  We found the body, of course.  We also found two partially melted candles, a bag of herbs, and a trail of footprints."

"And can you relate to us how those each tie in to our defendant?"

"Objection, Your Honor," Isobel Gowdie said immediately.  "The question assumes that I am guilty, which is, I believe, the magistrate's decision to make."

"Sustained.  Please rephrase the question," the magistrate said to the prosecutor.

"Yes, Your Honor.  Officer Stroud, what information did you develop from the evidence found at the scene?"

"The footprints were from a woman's size eight shoe.  The body, though exsanguinated, did not die from blood loss.  The woman's life was actually lost due to the draining of her life energy.

"To coincide with that, the candles, and the specific herbs contained in the bag found at the scene, are both used as part of a necromantic curse that will cause exactly that condition."

"Objection," Isobel said again.  "The witness is assuming the curse was performed by a necromancer, again, assuming the guilt of the defendant."

The magistrate looked to the prosecutor for a rebuttal, but David was the one who answered.

"No, sir, I'm not making an assumption.  The particular curse in question is only performed by necromancers.  It is outlined in the book known as the Dance of the Dead, which is the holy book of the necromantic religion.  This particular spell is actually shunned by regular wizards as being immoral.  It is also, for obvious reasons, illegal."

"Objection overruled," the magistrate intoned.  "Continue."

"Did you find anything else on scene, Officer Stroud?"

"No, ma'am.  All further evidence was found elsewhere."

"And what else did you find?"

"A mark on the base of the candles turned out to be the signature of its maker.  That candlemaker was able to provide a list of the people to whom she had sold these candles recently.  That information is what led us to Ms. Gowdie in the first place.

"After our first interview with Ms. Gowdie, we attempted to verify the information she had given us.  We discovered her to be lying to us."

"Objection!" Isobel cried out.  "He's making a judgment call that I was not simply mistaken."

The magistrate sighed, and looked to David.

"Your Honor, the defendant told us that, on the day of the murder, she was visiting her niece in Buffalo.  Her niece, however, has not lived in Buffalo for over a decade.  That's not something you say mistakenly.  That's a falsehood."

"Objection overruled.  Carry on, Officer."

"In checking the files, we also discovered that Isobel Gowdie's vital statistics record was missing her birth information.  With her... misrepresentation of the facts, along with this highly suspicious record absence, we were able to obtain a King's Order to search her home for further information."

"And what turned up from that?"

"Two groups of things that are relevant.  Firstly, we discovered the wizard licenses of sixty-two people.  A records search shows that they have either gone missing, or been discovered murdered.  All who were discovered murdered - there were seven of them - were discovered in the same clearing outside Burton that Linda Edwards was found in.

"Secondly, we discovered the missing portion of Isobel Gowdie's vital statistics record."

"Why is that relevant to this case?"

"Because it states - and it has been verified to be a genuine document - that Isobel Gowdie is, sitting here before us today, well over five hundred years old."

There was a major stir in the courtroom until the magistrate gaveled them to silence.

"Anything further, Miss Young?"

"No,Your Honor."

"Cross-examine, Ms. Gowdie?"

"Oh, yes."  She got up from her chair and approached the witness seat.  "Mr. Stroud, you claim that you found my footprints at the crime scene."

"No, ma'am, I did not claim that."

"Oh?"

"No, ma'am.  I said that there were size eight footprints at the crime scene.  It has been established elsewhere that you wear size eight shoes.  Still, the prints were not clear enough to establish a match with your shoes, only a consistency."

Isobel frowned in frustration.  "Very well.  But this is a land of magic.  How are we to accept these prints as real?  Why, you yourself could have made them with simple morph magic!"

"No, ma'am, I could not have," David said, amused.

"Oh?  You never took Metamorphosis?  Be aware we have access to your school records right here, Mr. Stroud."

The magistrate interrupted.  "Before you answer, I need to remind Ms. Gowdie that the witness' proper title is 'Officer', not 'Mister'."

"But he's not an officer.  He's an intern," she objected.

"That is not relevant to how he is referred to in formal proceeding."

"Oh, very well.  So, you didn't take Metamorphosis classes under both Professors Fibblebitz and Arpilla while attending the Woodward Academy?"

"Yes, ma'am, I certainly did."

"And you received passing marks?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"So how can you claim you could not have produced those footprints?" she demanded.

"Simple.  I'm a demighost, and demighosts cannot change shape."

There was a murmur that ran through the audience, but it quieted before the magistrate had to raise the gavel.

Isobel Gowdie looked even paler than normal.

"Well, no matter," she said.  "Even assuming the prints were mine - and I am not conceding that point, but assuming for the sake of argument - you still can't prove it was me.

"For instance, those candles could have been purchased at any time and simply left there."

"No, ma'am.  Because of the particular ingredients used to make the candles, they actually decompose rather rapidly.  This is what accounts for their rather unpleasant odor.  The candles we saw in the clearing could not have been more than a month old.  And to save time, I'd like to point out that the candlemaker has only sold those candles to two people in the last year... and the other purchaser has been in jail for six months."

Isobel growled to herself under her breath.  She paced for a moment, then came back to David.  "You make a big deal of pointing out that I was born in 1502.  So what?  Why is that even relevant to this case?"

"Well, as the natural life span of a wizard is the same as that of any human, it means that some magical means has been used to extend your life.  Typical youth magic can only put off death for a few decades.  The average wizard lives to be no more than 150 years old.  The oldest wizard ever recorded using only typical youth magic was 178 years old.

"Given that you have lived almost three times that long, it stands to reason that you are not using typical youth magic, but are instead using the class of magic known as life extension."

"So?"

"There are exactly three known spells in the life extension category.  Of those three, only one of them could have been used by you.  That is the necromantic spell known as the Phoenix Curse, for which the items found at the scene of the murder are required talismans."

"Why could I not have simply used one of the other spells?"

"The second spell requires six hundred people to meet every year at the same time.  Further, they must remain the same six hundred people throughout time.  In order for you to be using this spell, there would have to be 599 people just as old as you walking around.  Since this would be something rather more obvious than there being just one exceptionally old individual, it is unlikely to the point of impossibility that you are using this particular spell."

"And the third spell?  Surely I could use that one?"

"The third is the life extension spell used at Barnard Hill and other such prisons.  The spell requires a level 1 Master Spellcaster.  In fact, the spell isn't even taught to anyone not a member of the Royal Assembly of Master Spellcasters.  The guild actually owns the spell.  Your name is not in their log of permitted users.  You are not even a member of a spellcasting guild.  Given that, it's hard to come to any conclusion other than the Phoenix Curse as the spell you're using to extend your life.

"Furthermore, the myriad wizard licenses found in your possession point directly to the necromantic spell.  They go back for almost four hundred fifty years."

"You can parcel this out any way you like, ma'am, but the evidence says you're guilty as sin."

"That is not your call to make, Officer Stroud!" Isobel snapped.

"True.  It was just an opinion.  Any other questions?"

"No," she growled.

"You may go, Officer.  Thank you for your time," the magistrate said.

David nodded to him, and returned to his seat.

"Why the delay?" David asked Joe as they were leaving the courtroom.  "I would have thought her guilt was obvious."

"I think this time, the delay might be to figure out sentencing," Joe replied.  "I mean, if the woman wants to stay alive, putting her in jail for... what, like four thousand years or something... probably not going to do any good."

"I think four millennia at Barnard Hill might change her tune," David said.

Joe shrugged.  "Anyway, I'm pretty sure that the verdict will come back guilty, but the punishment may be... interesting."

David snorted.  "So, you said we were meeting Zyla for lunch... where is she?"

"I'm not... oh, there she is, waiting in the coach."

Zyla waved to them from the coach.  David was about to wave back when a whooshing sound filled the air, followed by an explosion.  Suddenly, the coach Zyla was sitting in was engulfed in flames.

"ZYLA!" Joe screamed, starting to run for the coach.  David grabbed him and held him back.

"What the fuck are you going to do?" David snapped.  "Other than get yourself killed with her, that is."

"We can't leave her in there to die!" Joe cried hysterically.

"I have no intention of it," David said.  "You wait here."  David began to run for the coach, turning himself ghostly along the way.  As he got close to the coach, ready to jump through the flames, he seemed to hit a solid wall which threw him backwards and to the ground.

Ghost prevention device.  Fuck!

David could see Zyla looking out of the window.  She was standing in the very middle of the coach, as far away from the flames as she could get.  She had seen him thrown to the ground, and knew that he could not rescue her.  She was trying very hard not to panic; no one could get to her now.

David tried to blow out the flames magically, but could not.  He tried pyromandy on them, but all that was able to accomplish was to move the fire around.  He simply could not get it to extinguish.

Magical fire... it's invading the coach awfully slowly.  Either someone is deliberately giving us time to save her, or they want us to have to stand impotently and watch her burn to death.

Fuck that shit.

Finally, David said, "Okay, fine.  If I can't use finesse, let's just use force."

Balling his hand into a fist in front of him, he squeezed it as tight as he could.  Then, in a flash, he opened his hand, spread his fingers, and screamed, "MILIPUKO!"

In an instant, the coach disappeared, and took the flames with it. Zyla was likewise blown into the air.  A quick sem spell from David halted her travel, and he was able to draw her back to himself.

As tiny fragments of coach parts rained down harmlessly on the surroundings, Zyla, realizing she was safe, wrapped her arms around David and tried to crush him.

"Thank you, oh thank you!  You saved my life!"

David rubbed her back as he watched Joe walk over to them.

"What the hell happened?" Joe asked.

"I think the same bastard who's been after me for a year has realized that you two are my friends.  It would explain the attack on you last month, as well."

"This cocksucker needs to be caught, and caught now," Joe snarled.

"You think I'm not trying?" David demanded angrily.  "I haven't got any clues!"

Zyla, who still had her arms wrapped around David in a mix of gratitude and lingering terror, didn't really hear any of it.

"Hey, Boss," David said as he and Joe walked into the office.  "What's going on?  We're supposed to get Saturday off, you know..." he said with a grin.

"Hey, David.  Joe.  Heard about your wife.  She okay?" Keef asked Joe.

"Thanks to David," Joe confirmed, giving the details of the event.

"You think someone's got it out for you?" he asked.

"Actually, we're pretty sure this was another in the string of hits on friends of David," Joe replied.

"Oh?" Keef asked, turning to David.

"Over the last year and a half, seven of my closest friends have been attacked in various ways.  In each case... with the exception of the attack on Joe, it has been arranged in such a way that I was required to deal with the situation myself, rather than relying on other people."

"How do you mean that?"

"Well, for instance, the very first attack I noticed.  My friend Flo was infected with a dendrophilis worm.  At the very time this happened, here in Bolmont a rash of odd illnesses broke out, such that none of the local healers was available to try to treat Flo.  Likewise, Healer Hall, up at the school, was away on vacation.  As such, I had to dig into the matter personally, rather than leaving it up to the professionals."

"Did she survive?"

"Yes.  No one has died, yet.  It's been very close in a couple cases, but I've been lucky so far."

"And you haven't opened a case file on this yet?"

"We have," Joe said.  "But there is literally no information to go on.  They all appear, on the surface, to be unrelated events, with the singular exception of being people that know David."

"That sucks."

"You're telling me," David grumped.

"Well, this will maybe take your mind off it.  We've got another burglary."

"Where to this time?"

"Hofbrau Terrace.  Larry Hovis is the victim, he's waiting for you at his home."  Keef handed a slip of parchment with the necessary information to Joe, who just handed it to David, since David always did the driving.

"We're on it," Joe said, and headed out of the office.

"Damned thieves," David said.  "I had a date with Lydia."

"Sorry about that," Joe said.

David just grumbled.

"Mr. Hovis?" David asked the man standing on the porch of the very luxurious home.

"You know it.  You here about the theft?"

"Yes, sir.  Officer Stroud, Agent Garibaldi.  Can you tell us what happened?"

"Well, it's Saturday, you see, which means that I went down to the baxayr game.  I was gone from... oh, maybe eight until say ten thirty, maybe eleven.  When I got back, I found a window smashed out back."

"Can you show us?" David asked.

"Well, sure.  Come on in."

"If you don't mind, sir, we'd prefer to go around the outside, so we don't disturb any possible evidence."

"Well, all right.  Boy, you folks sure are careful."

As they followed Mr. Hovis around to the back of his home, David asked, "Do you have any servants?"

"Well, yeah.  In a place this big, you got to.  I have a housekeeper, a cook, and a gardening staff."

"None of them were here this morning?"

"Well, the gardening staff only comes once a week, on Tuesdays, unless I need something special.  The cook doesn't come in until after noon, and the housekeeper was off visiting a friend.  She does that most Saturdays, since I'm always off to some game or other."

"So this was a time of the week when it is known that you won't be home," David said.

"Oh, yeah, sure.  Lots of people know my schedule.  Anyway, here's the window."

David ignored the window for a moment, and started looking for tracks.  It didn't take long to find them.  "Joe.  Boots."

"Right.  Let me get some images of them."

While Joe was doing that, David looked at the window.  It was well and truly shattered.  "What did they break the window with?" he asked Mr. Hovis.

"One of these big rocks," he replied.  "It's still there in the study.  I can't hardly lift it.  I don't know how they could have chucked it through the window."

"Because there were three of them," Joe said.

"Three?" Mr. Hovis asked.

Joe pointed to various footprints.  "Three different sizes, and this one walks funny."  The tracks for that suspect clearly were uneven, as if he had a bad leg.

"You want to follow the tracks first, or go inside?" David asked Joe.

"Why don't we split up?  You go in, and I'll follow these back."

"Okay.  Mr. Hovis, if you would take me inside now."

"Sure.  You want to go back around front?"

"No, the back door will be fine."

Hovis took David to the back door, and then led him into the study.  The rock - it was more like a small boulder - was lying just inside the window.  "I suppose they could have levitated this with magic..."

David did a quick spellcast, and realized that he wasn't sensing any unusual use of magic in the immediate area.

"...but they didn't.  Strange.  They must have actually picked this up and physically thrown it through the window.  Why?"

"Well, to get in, of course," Hovis said.

"No, I mean why not use magic?"

"Oh, I get you."

"What did they take?"

"Well, they cleaned out the chest with all the silver in it.  And they also took a tidy bundle of cash I had in the desk."

"You don't keep it in the bank?"

"Oh, this was for a poker game I'm going to tomorrow night."

David nodded in understanding.  "Anything else?"

"Yeah, they stole several crystal pieces... serving dishes and the like... took a few valuable medallions I have in my workroom... oh, and they stole my cellphone."

David growled to himself.  "Another one, with a completely different MO."

"Come again?" Hovis asked.

"Sorry.  It would appear that you are the victim of a burglary ring.  Can you recreate a list of the people whose numbers you had in your phone?"

"Sure.  I have it in my tablet."

"You have a tablet?"

"Yeah.  I spend a lot of time in Earth.  If they'd taken my tablet, I'd have been in serious trouble.  There's lots of important information on that."

"Where do you keep your tablet?"

"Right next to the phone, here in the drawer."  He opened the drawer to display a computer tablet.

"You don't keep this drawer locked?"

"I do.  They broke into it.  I admit it's not a really secure lock, but I never really expected anyone to steal it, you know?  Who would need that kind of information here in Dugerra?"

"Yes, sir.  I see your point.  If you can make a list of the contacts you have, it would be greatly appreciated.  I'm going to go check on my partner now."

"So, what do we have?" Joe asked David.  They were back in the office, going over the case data.

"Four thefts.  Crane, Banner, Mason, Hovis.  No apparent pattern in the location of the homes, or the manner in which they're broken into.  We do have a pattern forming as far as the timing."

"Oh?" Joe asked.

"They are happening exactly eight days apart.  See here?  First on Wednesday, then the following Thursday, the next Friday, and here we are today."

"Shit, you're right.  Well, at least that means we won't have another one until a week from tomorrow."

"Probably."

"What about the list of names?"

"He's added four new names for us to look at.  I'll mirror HQ on Monday to see if any of them are wizards.  As it is, we have about seventeen other wizard names from the first three burglaries."

"That's a lot."

David shrugged.  "They're wizards themselves.  They tend to seek out other wizards to work with, so they have a lot of wizards in their contact lists."

"I guess.  So... any idea who will be hit next?"

"Nope.  I thought maybe alphabetical, but it's not.  C-B,M-H... not a very good speller, if it's supposed to be alphabetical."

"Maybe alphabetical by first name, instead?" Joe offered.

"R-J, M-L... Again, only if they don't know the alphabet."

Joe stared at the names.  "There is a sort of a pattern..."

"Oh?  I don't see one."

"Well, look at what you mentioned.  The last names... they start with C, then backward to B, then forward to M, and backward to H... two steps forward, one step back, sort of.  And the first names... the first names do it in kind of reverse."

"Okay, I see what you're getting at.  But that really could just be coincidence."

"Yeah, you're right," Joe said.

"On the other hand," David said, "if it's not just coincidence, then the next victim's first name will start with a letter that comes after L, and a last name that comes after H."

"Just out of curiosity, how many does that remove from the seventeen we have?"

David did a quick look at the list.  "Takes it down to eight."

"That would be a help... but we can't rely on this as anything more than a weird coincidence."

"Yeah.  Don't know how we're supposed to cover seventeen different houses."

"We'll think of something," Joe assured him.  "Won't you?" he added with a grin.

David frowned mightily.  "I'm going home now," he said.

"See you Monday," Joe replied.

"Give Zyla a hug for me.  How's she doing, after Thursday's little mess, anyway?"

"Still a bit jittery, but better."

"Good.  Anything you guys need?  Maybe a babysitter, so you could have a night out?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I don't think she's up to that.  It would involve a coach ride."

David nodded.  "Yeah, not what she needs just now.  Okay, well, if you need anything, holler."

"Will do."

"So, what have you got for us, Chloe?" Joe asked.  Though it was a Monday, this was not their usual briefing meeting.  This was a task force meeting, as they were about to execute a King's Order on a location.

"This here," she said, creating an image on one of the writing boards, "is a store called Jim's Gems and Crystals.  It's down in Littany."

"Wait... we've been going north all this time.  This is way south of the last location..." Tom objected.

"Right.  We're not expecting to find the slaves, or the slaver," Chloe said.

"So... what the hell are we going for?"

"Information.  I spoke with the people at the store, telling them I was an investigator for the Bank of Callamandia, and that it seemed as if someone might be attempting to defraud our dear Mr. Prescott.  They assured me that, though Mr. Prescott does store a great deal of paperwork and files there, they have not seen him in person in over two months."

"So... paperwork?" Tom asked.

"The guy has to keep his records somewhere, right?  They weren't in his house.  They haven't been in any of the places we've raided.  I'm thinking that he keeps this place clean... no actual contact with the slaves, or the people he's using to transport them... but he then keeps all the actual incriminating information there, nice and safe, where he hopes we won't think to look.

"Well, we're gonna look," she concluded confidently.

"Sounds like a plan.  This is your baby, Chloe.  How do you want us to take the place down?"

"Honestly, I don't think we need a typical raid.  I think if we have two of us watching the back door, the rest should just walk in the front door, present the KO, and demand to see the files."

"You think that will work?" Dikko snorted.

"The store appears to be clean.  They have only limited connection with Prescott.  I honestly believe that they don't know he's dirty.  And yes, I think that if we simply show lawful authority to search the place, they will cooperate."

Dikko smirked, but didn't say anything further.

Joe said, "Okay, let's mount up.  Tom, Dikko, you two take the back.  The rest of us will go in the front.  Keep your heads up.  Just because we think they'll be cooperative, doesn't mean they can't throw us a surprise."

"Right," Chloe agreed.

With that, everyone headed out for the Rimohr coach.  The trip to Littany was over an hour, even with the pegs.

"What the fuck is this?" an employee asked when Chloe, David, Joe, Vivian, and Peter all walked in the door.

The clerk at the counter said, "Um... can we help you?"

Chloe stepped forward.  "We have a King's Order to search the premises.  You are required to cooperate."

"Uh... yeah, sure.  Um... can you tell me what you're looking for?"

"All documents stored here by Howard Prescott."

"Oh, that's all you're after?  No sweat.  Tommy, take them into the back room.  You know where the files are, right?"

"Yeah," Tommy said.  To the Rimohrs, he said, "Come on back."

The employee led them back down a hall, and into a small, darkly lit room.

"Here it is," he said, motioning to boxes and filing cabinets full of papers.

"Is this all of it?" David asked.

"Yeah.  He just comes in, dumps another box of stuff, and leaves."

"Would you know which of these is his most recent deposit?"

"Nope.  We never do anything with this stuff.  He owns the joint, and he told us never to come in here, so we don't."

David nodded.  "Thank you."

"Sure."

Tommy left, and the rest just looked at the mess of boxes.

"Might as well just pick one and dig in," Joe said.  "We can start here on the left and make our way to the right."

"Wait a minute," David said.  Everyone stopped.  "Granted, the guy's probably not got any sort of organizational system, with the way this place looks... but let's use common sense: he probably did not bury his most recent drop off.  Chances are it is one of the boxes that is easiest to get to."

"Good point," Joe immediately agreed.  "So... grab a box that's in front, or on top.  Or both."

"I'll go let the others in," Vivian said, and headed for the back door.

"This could take all day," Peter said.

"This could take all week," David corrected him.

"So, did you find anything useful?" Keef asked when the team returned.  Joe, Chloe, and David stayed to talk with him while the others returned to their desks.

"December 16th," Joe said.  "That's when he's planning to hold the slave auction."

"Where?"

"In Pithala.  A place called Therebridge."

"How many you plan to take with you?"

"The entire task force.  There's no telling how much security he's got set up for the auction.  I may need all of them.  We might even want to call in some from the local Rimohr office."

Keef nodded.  "Okay, approved.  Good work.  Let's hope we can knock this slavery network out cold."

"Amen to that," Chloe agreed.

"Where have you two been?" Vivian asked when David and Joe walked into the bull pen the following day.

"Another damned disappearance," David growled.

"Again?  Who was it this time?" Vivian asked.

"Kristen Gilbert.  Guilty of the rape and murder of seven young boys.  Found to be criminally insane, sent to a mental institution.  After four years, they said she was cured and let her out.  Needless to say, there are at least seven whole families' worth of suspects for this one."

"But probably the same guy," Joe said, sitting down after writing some more information on the board.

"Yeah, almost certainly," David agreed.  "We've got to find this guy.  Sooner or later, he's going to screw up and kidnap someone who wasn't really guilty."

"You sound as if you don't care that he's kidnapping the other people," Vivian said.

David shrugged.  "You live by the sword, you die by the sword.  If you're going to be an asshole to society, you should not be surprised when society returns the favor."

"I thought you didn't think they were dead," Joe objected.

"I don't know.  All I know is he's not killing them right then.  I do just have this gut feeling, though, that they're not.  I wouldn't base any investigative efforts on it, but it's just what I think."

"Right.  Well, as usual, we've got almost less than nothing.  No one saw her taken, no one heard anything, and most people are glad she's gone." Joe said.

"Most people?" Vivian asked.

"Her landlady said she was a nice person," David said, one eyebrow raised.

"It takes all kinds," Vivian assured him.

"Yeah, I guess.  But none of it gets us anywhere.  This guy could kidnap half the state of California before we figure out who he is."

"Or she," Vivian remarked.

"Yes, or she, but I will stick with 'he' for traditions's sake.  In any case, we've got squat."

"Cheer up.  It can't get much worse..."

"Oh, you just had to tempt fate that way, didn't you?" David demanded.

Vivian grinned at him.

David entered Fensterman Hall with a slight sense of nostalgia.  He almost longed for the simpler life he was living as Chief of Security.

Well, simpler compared to the nest of vipers I'm fooling with these days...

"Afternoon, Sheila," David said as he entered the security office.

"Hey, there, Stranger," she said with a warm smile.

"I'm no stranger than you are," he said with a grin.  "Is Tanya in?  She said she had something for me."

"Sure.  Go on in."

David nodded, then knocked on Tanya's door, entering when she acknowledged him.

"Hey, David.  How's it going?"

"Same shit, different day, you know how it is.  How about around here?"

"Yeah, about like that."

"So, you said you had some information for me."

"I do... but it has a price tag attached."

"You don't have to bribe me if you want a date, all you have to do is ask," he said with a grin.

Tanya blushed.  "I'll keep that in mind, but this is about business."

"What's up?" David asked.

"I need your help with this damned cat."

"Cat... what, you mean the one that was stealing stuff?"

"Yeah.  Tattered Tom, the Klepto Kat."

"You're being stymied by a cat?"

"Do you have any idea how many cats wander the grounds of this school?  There are dozens!  Most of them don't want to be picked up, and won't exactly stand still for examination to make sure they're the one we're looking for.  This cat has now stolen things from over a dozen girls!"

David tried not to smile.  "So have you gotten anywhere at all?"

"We've spotted him several times, but we've never been able to catch him, or even follow him to wherever he lives.  We got really close once, but then he ran into Oscar, who got his hackles up, and Tattered Tom took off like a shot.  He ran so fast, we don't even really know in which direction he went."

"Interesting.  So, you want me to... what?"

"Help us find this little bastard."

David sighed.  "What you've got for me had better be worth the hassle."

"I think you'll think it is."

"Let's hear it."

"Last night, down in Gorumshead, five young adults trashed the Slyther Inn."

"This is good news?"

"The five youths in question mentioned Faggioni's name."

A cold, malevolent smile crossed David's face.

"The Clan."

"I would think so.  If there are enough of them back in town to do that, I'm willing to bet you should be able to get hold of them."

"Yeah.  Okay, you're right.  That's worth the trouble with Tom.  As soon as I have my Clan members in custody, we'll see about catching your cat."

"Thanks.  I know it seems silly, but this is driving all of us to distraction at this point."

David shrugged.  "Better something silly than something deadly."

"I hear you."

"Okay, let me get to work on the Clan thing.  I'll be in touch."

David had wandered through the streets of Gorumshead, hoping to bump into the Clan thugs, but to no effect.  When the time came, he stopped in at the Mystic Wolf to have dinner and say hi to Bridget.  He made a date with her for later that night, when she was off work.

With nothing better to do, David went back to campus.  He hadn't been in his dorm room in three days, and so he made sure that things in there were all in order.  After that, he walked along the terrace, trying to figure out what to do about Tom.

Jailla, who had been flying around the school for most of the afternoon and evening, swooped down to David's shoulder.

"Are we not going home this evening?"

"No.  I have a date with Bridget, which will have to be after two, so we'll just stay here."

"I see.  How will Lydia feel about you dating Bridget?"

David shrugged.  "I can't quite figure out what kind of relationship Lydia's looking for.  Sometimes she seems to want us to be a real couple, and other times, she seems completely uncaring as to who I might sleep with or date."

"Women can be quite tricky to figure out," Jailla offered.

David snorted.  "Jailla, if there was a guild for people who understood women well, it wouldn't even have any women in it!"

Jailla chuckled.

"In any case, I've been seeing Bridget sporadically for quite a while, and Lydia's never complained, so I'm not about to change things.  I like Bridget, and we have a good time together."

"Perhaps, then, you should consider accepting her as your primary partner, instead of Lydia," Jailla said.

David shook his head.  "She doesn't want that.  And truthfully, I don't think we're that compatible.  As friends with benefits, we're good.  As something with a commitment, I think we'd probably end up hating each other."

Jailla bobbed his head in acknowledgment.  "So," he asked, "which of your current girlfriends do you think you're compatible enough with for a long-term relationship?"

"Well," David started to say, but was then interrupted by a screaming from inside his coat.

David reached in and silenced the security pin.  Sighing, he pulled out the map of the school and said, "Locate Christa."

The map said that Christa was in a secluded area behind Hughes Hall.

David packed away the map and started to trot in that direction.  It was most likely another of Christa's pranks, but he was still compelled to make sure.

As David came near, he could hear a struggle going on.

"Shut up, you stupid bitch, or you're going to get seriously hurt!"

"Let me go right now!  My father is-"

"Yeah, we know all about who your father is.  Daddy ain't gonna save you now, you stupid little twat."

"I can't decide if I wanna fuck you before I beat the shit out of you, or just turn your face into pulp now," one of the guys said.

No one had yet noticed David's arrival on the scene.  He decided it was time to announce himself.

"Fucking her first would probably be more fun.  But, of course, you're not going to get to do either of those things."

There were two attackers, and the one that was only holding Christa with one hand raised his wand at David.

David's wand was already pointed, and the blast that erupted from it sent the other student flying forty feet past the building before he hit the ground, tumbling and bouncing until he impacted a tree and didn't bother trying to get up.

"Get your hands off her, now," David said.

"Why're you defending this stuck up little cunt?" the guy demanded.  "She's stupid, arrogant, bossy, lazy...  fun to look at, but hey, most girls here are... why her?"

"Because I made a promise that I would.  Now put your hands on top of your head."

The guy did as directed.

"You fucking asshole," Christa snarled, and tried to kick him in the nuts.  David blasted her sideways, causing her to stumble and fall.

"Every charge he just leveled against you is accurate," David told her bluntly.  "None of it gives him the right to do what he was doing, but it certainly means that I'm not going to let you harm him while he's in my custody.

"Of course, now I have to figure out just which form of custody you two are in," David said.

"What do you mean?" the guy asked.

"Well, I can either detain you in my position as a Rimohr, or I can just place you in King's Custody, as a subject of the king.  The difference, as far as you're concerned, is mainly procedural.  If I detain you as a Rimohr, then you'll be taken to Bolmont and placed in jail.  If I place you in King's Custody, then I will have to call the palace, and they will send the king's own guards up here to get you.

"In either case, as you've chosen to attack the daughter of the king, you're going to be answering to him one way or another.  You'd better hope he had a very good night's rest before you go before him."

The guy stood there, shaking.  He was clearly not enjoying the thought of facing the king.

"Couldn't you, like, just let us go?  I mean, we didn't actually do anything to her..."

"No.  The only reason you didn't do anything is because I stopped you from continuing.  Neither of you was hesitating in the slightest.  You are going to face your punishment."

David then turned to Christa.  "And you are going to explain to your father why someone wanted to beat you to a pulp."

Christa looked almost as pale as her attacker.

David had ultimately decided to detain the two attackers as a Rimohr.  He did so for entirely selfish reasons: had he placed them in King's Custody, he would have had to personally maintain custody on them until the palace guards arrived the next day.  He didn't want to miss his date with Bridget.

Having filed all the paperwork with the office, David spent his typical day working on the cases in his folder.  The slaver case was on the back burner until mid-December.  The disappearances/kidnappings had no clues for him to go on.  The only case he had good information to work with was trying to nail Faggioni.

To that end, he decided to visit the Slyther Inn, to see if the bar owner, Hal, or the barmaid, Jules, had any idea where to find the five punks that had vandalized the pub earlier in the week.

As David stepped into the pub, he blessed his good fortune.  Standing around the barmaid were five young men, all leering at the woman and trying to act tough.

"You pay up, or we're going to have some real fun," the leader of the group said.

David leaned back against the door, chanting a spell that would lock it from both directions.  He then coughed quietly.  Everyone's head turned.

"Is this a private game, or can anybody play?" David asked.

"Get your ass outta here, pig, or we'll fuck you up but good," the leader said.

David chuckled.  "You never attended Woodward, did you?"

"I went to a good school.  Not some damned freakshow," the guy retorted.

David nodded.  "That would be why you don't know who I am."

"Why should I fucking care?"

"Please, allow me to introduce myself," David said, and straightened from his leaning posture.  He pulled his wand.

"I am Death, and I have come for you.  Valk tohuto," David intoned darkly.  A bolt of lightning shot from his wand, impacting the man and throwing him twenty feet, where he crashed into a table and lay, bleeding and unconscious.

As the lightning faded, David said plainly to the other four, "You have two choices.  You can drop your wands and get on your knees now, or sixty seconds from now, you will be dead.  Not injured, not bleeding, not on your way to the infirmary.  Dead.  I am not screwing around with you assholes any further."

The four didn't need any further warning.  Wands were dispensed with, and they each knelt before him.  Their hands went on their heads without need for instruction.

"Blessed thing that you showed up," the barmaid said.  "I can only imagine what was in store for me otherwise."

"If anyone's going to be molesting barmaids around here, it's gonna be me," David said with a grin, "and only with their permission."

The barmaid blushed, and the other patrons laughed.  To Hal, David said, "You want to call the Rimohr office for me?  I need to secure our 'friends' here."

"Will do," he said.

"You wouldn't have... really killed us, would you?" one of the guys before him asked.

"You fuckers really have no idea who I am, do you?" David asked.

"Should we?" one of them asked in confusion.

"My name is David Stroud."

David watched with some dark amusement as each face went very pale.  "I see you've heard of me.  Yes, I would have gladly buried all five of you.  You are very, very lucky to be looking forward to five or six years in Barnard Hill.

"Of course, if you choose to be cooperative, we might be able to shorten that sentence a bit.  We'll talk later.  Just be thinking about it.

"And don't cause me any trouble.  There's less paperwork for killing you than there is for arresting you."

"I ain't telling you shit," the man said as David sat down across from him.

"You like the idea of six years in Barnard Hill, do you?" David asked.

"I ain't no squealer.  That's what pigs do."

"You seem to have this rather deluded notion that you can bluster your way through this.  Let me help clear this up for you.  I do not give a flying fuck what happens to you.  It takes every ounce of self-control I have to not rip your motherfucking throat out when I'm this close to you.  You think you're tough, a big shot?  I could kill you twice before you could even react.  And I'd leave here a happier person for it."

"So why don't you?" the guy sneered.

"Because there's someone I want more than you.  In order to get to him, I'm willing to give you a break, because you're a worthless little shitty peon that doesn't mean squat to anyone.

"So, which will it be?  Six years in Barnard Hill, or three years in Chatsaw?

The guy sat for a long moment in silence.  David simply stared, unblinking.  It was a demighost trick, and was about as unnerving as anything could be.

Finally, the guy asked, "What is it you want to know?"

"Faggioni.  He hired you?"

"Not me personally, no.  The Clan works with him."

"Still?"

"Whaddya mean, 'still'?"

"Even after the king's proclamation concerning The Clan?"

The guy snorted in derision.  "That don't mean shit to any of us."

"Uh-huh.  Well, it means 'shit' to the rest of us.  And if you're willing to testify that you were working for Faggioni, and that he knew you were a Clan member, then you may have a more pleasant stay in prison."

"Fuck, if that's all you want... I don't give a shit about Faggioni.  He's an asshole, anyway."

"So why work for him?"

"He pays, we get laid, get to have some fun busting shit up."

"That's fun to you, is it?"

"Breaking stuff is always fun.  You ain't never enjoyed busting up one of your old toys, man?  What kind of guy are you?"

"I was more interested in fixing the ones that got broken.  It's a different mindset.  Order versus chaos."

"Chaos is a lot more fun, man."

"Not for those around you."

"Who gives a fuck about them?"

"I do," David said with finality, and got up from his chair.  He left the room before he decided to hell with it, and ripped the guy's throat out anyway.

By the end of the night, David had signed confessions from all four of the Clansmen.  The fifth was in the infirmary, and would be for a very long time.

"Sorry to call you down, Boss," David said as Keef came in.

"What've you got?" Keef said, waving it off.

"We've got Faggioni cold.  All four of them are willing to testify that they were working for Faggioni, who knew that they were Clansmen.  One of them even said that Faggioni talked to Beckel after the proclamation.  That's why they haven't been around in Gorumshead: Beckel wanted to let things cool down first."

"Not long enough," Keef said.

"Sir, I'm immortal.  There was no such thing as long enough," David replied.

Keef just grunted in amusement.

"Chili with saltines and a frazberry soda," David said to the pixie.  She nodded and popped out of existence.

David leveled his gaze at Christa, who had insisted on joining him and Lydia for dinner.

"You're not really going to make me tell Daddy about that scene, are you?"

"You bet your fucking ass I'm going to make you tell him.  I've warned you about your behavior time and again, and frankly, I'm tired of telling you about it.  Maybe somebody you respect a bit more will be able to get through to you."

"Hey, I respect you," Christa sniffed.

"Right," Lydia said.  "That's why you're constantly pranking him and interrupting his day for no good reason at all."

"He's been compensated any time I've called for him!" Christa shot back.

"Uh-huh, and that's the problem," Lydia said.  "Why can't you get it through your head that you're not his girlfriend?"

"Not his girlfriend yet," Christa replied.

"I don't really plan to step aside to let you in," Lydia told her.

At that point, their meals popped in.  David took a bite of his while the other two glared at each other.

"Seems to me," Christa finally said, after taking a bite of her food, "that someone who lets him date a bartender and have a slave shouldn't be objecting too loud to him having another playmate."

Lydia retorted, "It's not a playmate you're looking to be.  You're looking to take my job!  Well, I happen to like my job, so I'm not resigning."

Christa raised an eyebrow.  "You consider being his boyfriend to be work?"

"It was a metaphor.  You know what a metaphor is, you stupid cunt?"

"Okay, let's keep the nastiness to a minimum, shall we?" David said.  He refused to stop the argument, but he knew that kind of language would only escalate things into an actual fight.

"I'm quite aware of what a metaphor is.  Are you aware of what a parapraxis is?"

Lydia just stared at her.

"I see not.  A parapraxis is when you accidentally say what you're really thinking, rather than the possibly less honest thing you were trying to say."

"Are you calling me a liar, bitch?"

"Nope, not in the slightest.  I just find it fascinating that you equate love to a job."

"You don't love David, you want to conquer him," Lydia shot back.

"I never claimed to love him.  I just want to have some fun.  You're the one who feels all threatened.  Afraid you'll get fired?"

"I am not going to sit here and listen to this stupid little twat any longer," Lydia said to David.  "Either make her leave, or I'm going to my room."

"I have no more ability to make her leave than you do," David said reasonably.  "There is no school rule that says she can't sit there.  And we've already proven that she doesn't follow anyone's orders.  She doesn't even accede to requests unless she feels like it."

Lydia got up and snarled at both of them, then stormed off.  David watched her leave, then turned to Christa.

"If you're trying to get on my good side, forcing me to deal with a pissed off girlfriend is not the way to go about it."

Christa was still staring after Lydia, who had stormed out of the lunch hall and stomped across the terrace until she was out of sight.

"Something's not right about her," Christa said.  David noted that her tone was not the taunting or derisive tone she'd been using.

"Why, because she doesn't like being called an idiot in public?" David said, trying to blow it off.

Christa looked back at him.  "No, seriously, David.  Something is very off about her.  Okay, I admit, I was trying to piss her off.  I don't like her, for obvious reasons.  It's not that she got angry, it's how she got angry... and just... I don't know.  There's something in her manner."

"She's a vampire," David said quietly.  He didn't want to spread that around; Lydia's life would be very unpleasant if that happened.  That she had managed to keep it a secret for over a year was nearly miraculous, and he didn't want to be the one to break that for her.

"That's not it.  I've met vampires before.  Daddy has to work around them from time to time.  She really, honestly sees me as a threat.  Why?"

"Uh... because you're trying to get me to sleep with you?"

"So what?  You go on dates with other girls all the time!  Does she object to those?  Hell, you have a freaking slave!  Does she object to that?"

"No.  But those things all happened before she came along.  You didn't."

Christa shook her head.  "I just can't see that mattering that much, David.  I'm telling you, there's just something...  If I were you, I'd keep my eyes on her."

"Okay, I will take that advice.  Especially when she's naked," David quipped.

Christa blushed and shook her head.  "Whatever.  Don't listen to me, then.  But don't say I didn't warn you when the time comes."

Christa got up and left David.  For the first time in a very long time, he ate dinner alone.

It was kind of peaceful, actually.

"Why, exactly, are we up at the crack of dawn?" Joe grumbled.

"Because you left it to me to figure out a way to catch this damned burglary ring."

"You thought of something?" Chloe asked, stifling a yawn.

"I have an idea.  I don't know if it's going to work or not.  I had these made up," he said.  He held up a device about the size of a beach ball.  Inside it sat something that looked like a book.

"What the hell is that?" Joe asked.

"In Earth, we'd call it a drone.  It's a flying recording device."

"Wait... you built recorders?  Those won't be admissable..."

"No, no.  I'm using the standard Rimohr recorder, here in the middle.  I've built the flying device around it.  The shell of the drone allows it to fly, keeps the recorder pointing in the right direction, and also senses when someone is moving around on the property right below it.  When it senses movement, it starts recording.  Hopefully this will give us an image of today's thieves."

"Then we can work back from that," Joe said.

"Right."

"Sounds good.  How do we do this?"

"We'll just go to all seventeen locations, and release one of these on the property."

"Wait... doesn't this violate the owner's privacy?" Chloe asked.

"It would, if we looked at any of them except the one from the place that reports a theft.  The recorders will automatically blank themselves at the end of the day unless we prevent them from doing so."

"So... how do we do this?"

"We'll each take six... Joe, I'll be nice and only give you five.  I divided the lists up into three groups.  All you have to do is go to the property, make sure you're actually on their property - inside the gate would be best - and then just throw it up in the air as hard as you can.  It will take care of the rest."

"Then what?"

"We can meet back at headquarters to wait for results," David said.  "I'll even spring for donuts."

"Damn right you'll spring for donuts," Joe grumbled.

David chuckled as they loaded the drones into two coaches, so that Joe and Chloe could distribute theirs.

It didn't take long for David to take care of his six.  He stopped by the bakery and got two dozen donuts as well as some other pastries.  He also got Joe some mint tea, which was his favorite.  For him and Chloe, he got hot cocoa.

By the time Joe and Chloe showed up at HQ, David had already consumed an eclair and a cup of cocoa.  He motioned to the table as the others came in.  Joe immediately headed for the food.

Chloe came over and said, "No problem launching them.  Were they supposed to bobble a bit as they rose?"

David nodded as he swallowed a bite of donut.  "Yeah, it takes them a few seconds to stabilize.  By the time it got to altitude, I'm sure it was rock steady."

"That's good.  So... how will we know if it finds us a burglar?"

"Someone will call in and say their house has been robbed," David said with a shrug.

"So we're sitting here..." Joe started.

"Waiting, yes," David said.  "Why not take the time to catch up on last week's paperwork, before I have to call Mackey back in here to yell at you?"

Chloe giggled, and Joe glowered at David.  "I think I liked your attitude toward McKenna better."

David chuckled at that.

Being the least experienced officer among them, Chloe got the responsibility for answering the office mirror.

"Bolmont Division Rimohr Office, Officer Chloe Kirkland Speaking.  How may I help you?"

"Yes, my house has been broken into.  Several things were stolen.  Can you come out right away?"

"Yes, ma'am.  What's the address, please?"

"4161 Bueller Street."

David looked up, but didn't say anything.  He turned to Joe, who just nodded.

"We'll be there shortly, ma'am," Chloe said, finishing up her conversation.  "Guess we'll see if your gizmos work, eh, David?"

"Uh-huh," David said.

The trip in the truck was fairly short, and extremely familiar.  As David was about to pull into the driveway of 4161 Bueller Street, Joe had him stop.

"Chloe?" Joe said.

"Yeah?"

"See that house?" he asked, pointing to the one across the street from their incident location.

"Yeah... shit, that's twice as big as any of the places we've been to.  Wonder why they didn't rob that one."

"Thanks a lot," David said sourly.

"What?" Chloe asked innocently.

"That's my house!" David said.

Chloe gawked.  "You live in that?"

"Now do you know why he wasn't too impressed with that house the other day?" Joe said with a grin.  He then waved David on, and David finished entering the driveway of his neighbor.

As the three drew near the porch, the lady of the house stepped out the front door.

"Hey, Pat," David said in empathy.

"Hey, David.  I wondered if they'd send you."

"Patricia Olson, my training officer, Agent Joe Garibaldi, and my supervisory officer, Officer Chloe Kirkland.  Pat had me over to her cookout just last weekend."

Joe and Chloe greeted her.

"What'd they get, Pat?" David asked.

"My favorite statue!  It was that marble one of the sphinx, you remember?"

"Oh, yeah," David said.  "Anything else?"

"Oh, some meaningless silver pieces.  Two vases, and... my cellphone."

"Well, at least we know we've got the right burglars," David muttered.

"How did they get in?" Chloe asked.

"I haven't actually figured that out," Pat replied.  "I noticed that the items were gone, and I called you guys right away.  I haven't taken a good look around the house yet."

"We'll do that for you," David said.  "Is there any way you can replicate the list of names of people you had in your phone?"

"Sure, why?"

"You are the unfortunate fifth victim of a string of burglaries which all seem to be connected by cellphone contact lists."

"Now that's just dirty," Pat said, furious.

"Yes, ma'am," David agreed.  To Joe, he said, "You guys want to take care of in here?  I'm gonna go retrieve our drone."

Joe nodded, and so David stepped back outside.  Pat decided to follow him.

"What are you retrieving?" she asked.

"Our drone," David said.  He lifted his wand up toward the sky and silently chanted a spell.  He was able to put his wand away and fix his sleeve before the drone floated to a stop in front of him.

"What in the world?" Pat exclaimed.  The framework of the drone made it look somewhat dangerous, in a world where shapes tended to be more organic.

"It's just a recording device.  We put it here this morning."

"Wait, you've been spying on me?"

"Sort of.  Why, is there something fun on this recording?" David said with a grin.

Pat blushed.  "No!  But why..."

"You were one of seventeen possible victims.  We didn't have any way to choose between you, so we were surveilling all of you.  Hopefully this will have an image of your burglar on it."

"Let's hope," she said.

David took the drone inside, and he began to review the recordings.  It didn't take long to find the relevant shot.

"And there we are," David said.  The scene showed two men jimmying open a window in the back portion of the house.

"Dammit, and now I have to fix that window!" Pat fumed.  "These guys are really starting to piss me off."

"Welcome to my world," David said.

"Yeah, no one's breaking in to your house."

"Good security system will do that," David said.

"Uh-huh.  Give me their name later."

David chuckled.  He adjusted the recorder, so that he could get clear images of the two perpetrators, and then he turned the device off.

Just then, Chloe came back into the room.

"You find anything?" David asked.

"Maybe some fibers, but nothing more useful."

David nodded.  "Pat... your housekeeper, Yolanda.  Where is she?"

"She's on vacation."

"You don't have a temp?"

"She comes only in the afternoon."

David nodded.  "I'll assume Max was with you?"

"Of course.  I go nowhere without my driver."

"And where did you go this morning?"

"This is the most galling part.  I was at a charity auction!"

"Publicized well in advance, I assume.  How many people knew you were going?"

"I made no secret of it.  I was one of the sponsors, in fact."

"So they would have known you'd be there.  Yeah, fits all the same pieces as the other crimes."

Joe came in just then.  "You get anything on that contraption?"

"Yeah, we've got two good shots."  Turning to Pat, David said, "We're gonna try to get your statue back.  We'll be in touch."

"Thanks, David.  Good luck.  And I mean that!"

"You sure they're in there?" Vivian asked.

"Not in any way I can testify to," David said.  "But yes."

"Okay," Joe said, "they picked this place because it's easy to escape from.  Five separate doors.  We have to cover them all.  David and Chloe, you two stick together.  Each of the rest of us will take a door.

"When we're ready, I'll launch a noise hex.  On the sound of that hex, bust in your door.  If you've got ways to confuse or slow them down, use them.  We don't want them trying to trash things, or worse, fight back.

"Everyone got it?"

There was universal agreement with the plan.

"David and Chloe, you two take the primary entrance.  That's where they're likeliest to be.  Everyone, go!"

David and Chloe ran in a crouch across the yard, trying to keep behind objects as much as possible.  Once they'd reached the front door, David mirrored to Joe to let him know.

"How do we do it?" Chloe asked.

"You bust the door.  I'll rush in ahead.  I'll go right."

Chloe nodded.

After a little bit of a wait, a loud crack, like a firework, sounded above the building.

"Now!" David shouted.

"Arieti!" Chloe barked, leveling her wand at the door.

The door went flying, actually hitting one of the suspects as it went.  David rushed in, his wand drawn.

"Rimohrs!  Drop your wands and get on your knees!"

Two of the suspects looked as if they wanted to fight it out.  Chloe came through the door and blasted one of them clear across the room.  David hit the other with a lightning bolt that threw him to the ground in convulsions.  The remaining suspects put their hands up in surrender just as the other four Rimohrs entered the room.

"On your knees!" David demanded again.  This time, they all listened, and in short order, the entire group - at least the part of it that was conscious - was handcuff hexed and officially under arrest.

"Geez, they didn't even try to hide this stuff," Chloe said, looking at the items lying around the room.  "There's the sphinx statue your neighbor mentioend yesterday."

"And here's a drawer full of cellphones," Joe said.  "Along with a parchment showing the whole list of names, just like the one back in the office.  Only this one's in order."

"Joe... we have a bit of an issue," David said.

"What's the problem?"

"Most of these guys aren't wizards.  We were right in our speculation.  Someone brought these guys in to perform these burglaries, but they're all technos."

"No one here is a wizard?" Joe asked.

"Not in this batch.  I'm sure a few questions will lead us to the whereabouts of their ringleader."

"It had better."  Raising his voice, he said, "All right, gentlemen.  On your feet.  You're going for a rather unpleasant trip to a very unpleasant place.  And if you don't want to visit somewhere even worse, I'd suggest you cooperate.  Take 'em out of here," he said to Vivian, who motioned the suspects out the front door.

"Any trouble on the entry?" Joe asked David.

David just shook his head.  "Picture perfect.  Chloe took that suspect out with the door itself."

Joe looked at it, then at Chloe.  "Nice."

"Well, that's one case almost closed.  Now if we could just solve some of the others..." David said.

"Greedy bastard," Joe replied with a grin.