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rhythmic-idealist · 4 months

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Chase Trinaeste POV Shepherds of Haven fic? Yeah………….. Chase x MC fic? Yeah.......

And another friend’s OC is also mentioned in here? …..Yeah…………… dw about it..........

Listen though. L-listen:

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You gotta learn to braid.

Thinking about it, your head is immediately gifted with images of him irritatedly brushing it out in the morning and chewing you out for bad technique. Better yet, he wears it to breakfast, thinks it’s good, and then chews you out only after Trouble makes some no-brained comment and he looks in a mirror for the first time. After all, you’ve got nimble fingers, makes sense to assume you were trustable.

Rock’s head is in your lap.

And his hair is going everywhere, and he’s always clearly taken his time with it (at your best guess he uses five different products at least), so that’s why you’re thinking about it. Don’t people with long hair sleep with braids, sometimes? Lavinet would probably teach you, and do you the favor of not announcing that you’re about to use your skills for evil.

He’s been like this since about five in the morning. You’re a light sleeper. As needs be, you rise either with the sunset or with the sun. Or elsewise, if you’ve got to— you have what some might call an uncanny sense for a well-timed catnap.

So you’re up again, working out the couple little kinks in your back from dozing upright like that. It’s another of the perks of the job: learn to sleep anywhere. You have a lot of little resume filler skills like that, just a tragic lack of resume to put it on. Idly, you wonder over the nonsensical notion of putting one together for the Order once your writing gets good enough to, and you’re kind of attached to the idea now. Blade wouldn’t read it, especially considering you’re already in, but there’s some small giddy joy you get out of the idea of putting it in his possession anyway. Maybe Trouble would read it. Maybe Shery would think it’s juicy enough that she can’t keep her hands off it, and then roll in the guilt about it for a few weeks after. ...No, you can’t do that to her. Funny as that is, she could read with permission. You might be cruel, but she’s a horrible choice of target.

Anyway— So you’ve been watching him be like this since about five in the morning, and thus have evidence of him being like this since about five in the morning. You remember falling asleep late last night, though. Waiting for him to drift first. It was probably one, two AM.

When six-thirty rolls around, you’ll have to wake him, you have a bright and early morning dose of espionage on the schedule today (it’s why the two of you are all the way out here, plus Lavinet and Ottilie graciously hosted in another wing) and you can’t have a grouchy Hero of Haven who hasn’t had a good hour or more awake to put his silver tongue back on.

Something something joke about that tongue’s many talents.

Head in lap is a surprise at all. It’s one of those things— Rock has done this thing to you where all your defenses are the ones that keep coming down first.

It feels a little like getting grifted. When you’ve caught onto a grift, though, and you’re playing along to see what or whom or where they take you to, you don’t feel like you’re in danger, because you’re good. You’re in as much danger as you want to be, or more like: when there are unpredictable variables, you know more or less where they’re going. Rock makes you feel like you’re teetering on the edge of something you don’t fucking play with, and it doesn’t help that he likes to open his mouth sometimes just to remind you you’re rolling off a cliff.

Anyway. Then you get this, and you wanna be a charming shit about it, as usual (and you intend to), you just also wonder how much he’s falling off a cliff.

He gets bad nightmares. You know that because of the trip to the Reach. You do also know it because of the tightness in Blade’s lip when you mentioned it offhand later— there’s history there; they’ve been worse than that. You also know it because you picked the brains of a couple recruits who were standing around griping after Trouble sent them for something like twenty laps around the compound (not a real intuitive head for numbers on that man): apparently, it was Captain Nomura they’d been gossiping about, and Trouble was a hardass about it.

It’s the one thing that makes you feel borderline… even. If not even, then at least okay with it.

That’s a lie, you’d probably feel okay with it anyway, you got down to being okay with whatever he’s doing to you the minute you realized you were this invested. It’s just something you use to put things in perspective. There are things you didn’t exactly expect to peel open for him, about you. But there are also things he’s not asking to broadcast publicly to every hard-luck-fleer who wanders onto the Shepherds compound to recruit. Rumors about the head of the Thieves Guild abound, but the unflattering ones are usually less true, and the untrue ones abound so plentifully that no one knows heads or tails of that, anyway.

Feels fair he should have secrets from someone. You’re still gonna fucking dig your way into them before they bury him alive, it’s just. Yeah, you haven’t had your brain pulled open onto a projection screen.

So he has nightmares. You’re not actually sure how often. Technically, you don’t have proof they haven’t gotten better since you last heard. But since you’re not bound to the same evidence requirements as a court of law, and since it’s become a roulette game of how grouchy Rock’s gonna be minute-to-minute, he was dodgy about the prospect of rooming with you or anyone on this mission at all, and he’s recently had a god or demon or trick of the light try to tell him (plus all of the rest of you) that he’s less Mage and more something else’s torn out rib, you can look at two plus two plus two and say probably.

You’ve learned how not to dream. It’s basically the same as learning how to wake up when you want to. When you did dream, you dreamt of mutiny, imaginary holes you left and getting torn down through them. You were always yourself in your dreams—some people are characters, tropes, or other people they know, apparently; you wouldn’t know. Now you keep that in the waking world, and you keep ten paces ahead of it.

That’s the thing you’re deadly sure about in him. That he’s keeping ten paces ahead of something. You—your whole tether to his side—account for anything from like one to like eight of them, as far as you can tell. That’s all you know.

…Well that’s the quick way to tell it. He’s keeping ten paces ahead of something inside the Shepherds. Could be Blade, but you’re not sure why. Could be the Autarchy, but that’s too simple for you. Doesn’t feel like it. Could be Ottilie’s God-given plans for a pretty obvious heathen, but your nose also says it’s not that easy.

He looks dead asleep right now. Comfy, you’d kind of go so far as to hope. And anyway you look at his face, still waters, and you’re a little afraid to even brush his hair out of it.

You don’t even know if he meant to lay his head down on you at all, if that’s a cliff he made his shaky peace with (or if it’s a cliff at all, if means anything to him, Hael if you know) or if he was just miserable.

You don’t know if it’s you, like the stillness might be the effect of having another body in the room that he’s willing to lay his head against— …or if maybe he just doesn’t get them every night. Or if there is one under there. But you hope he’s not dreaming.

You try to bask in it, for now. Try to pose like a king with a sweet little kitten in his lap, like a guy painted on the front of a romance novel with the sweet, innocent angel he’s seduced to lay over him, nightgown slipping down her shoulder. You spend an hour with only walls to watch, dutifully still so he can finish sleeping, and it’s only a small handful of times that you have to stop and breathe through a creep of bile up your throat.

Six-thirty hits.

“Good morning, Sunshine.”

“Mmf. What.” Rock spits a strand of hair out of his face. Yeah, you probably could have done him a favor on that instead of leaving it there for him to wake up to. But it’s funny, so, you know. Win-win.

“The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, Ottilie’s slaughtering her morning chicken—” (she is not).

Rock seems to parse the reality of where he is, and peels himself up from you, sitting facing away from you— and then he glances at you over his shoulder, for a moment, and everything about it is horribly, disressingly raw.

He looks at you a little too long. The thing about Rock is his rules are a lot like yours, and you are not supposed to say anything about it, but he’s looking at you, like he’s asking you to, and it lasts a long time.

Then he goes to brush his teeth.

#shepherds of haven #chase trinaeste #chase trinaeste x mc #shepherds of haven fanfic #yeah sorry this one doesnt. resolve. thats it thats the oneshot!#i have more drafted from later on this little made-up mission im sending them on #but it's more like a second chapter #one day I'm gonna write the fic about how deeply fucking tragic everything going on w Blade and Rock is bc it's not clear here but #listen. listen. Blade is one of his most important people.#I have constructed a guy who loves Blade so much. and who then proceeded to convince himself that one day Blade will kill him #I mean not necessarily Blade. just the Shepherds. but it would hurt worst if it's Blade. so now it'll definitely be Blade. see. logic #Blade is going to feel. so extremely ill when he discovers this has been going on #so there's the... FLAVOR of the Blade mention in here

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queen-scribbles · 6 months

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The Long Burning Torch ch 8

Alright, here we go, continuing what might be (rip) the longest day of Xaeryn's life for my @shepherds-of-haven 20's AU. (And a big thanks to @emeraldgreaves for code diving for me again <3)

Wordcount: 8,350~

---

Xaeryn's knee-jerk instinct was to correct 'abducted, not kidnapped'. As if that made a lick of difference to the fact Red was gone because someone had taken him.

Closely on its heels came Sun above, this is my fault. It wasn't as if Red was involved with anything else that had even a sliver of a chance to put him in danger; it had to be the research he was doing for her, or something else related to the case.

She shook off both thoughts and made herself focus. Panic wouldn't help Red. Her detective skills might. Would. "Could I see his office?"

Pan gave her a concerned look--probably heard the slight break in her voice. "Xaer, are you...?"

"Crying about it won't find him any faster," she said brusquely, squaring her shoulders. "But if those responsible" --for abducting him--"left any clues, especially if there's something I could use to help scrying..."

He nodded, an understanding gleam in his eye. "I think security's done and didn't find anything to make them suspicious, but you deal with this sort of thing more than they do, so if you wanna take a gander..."

He gestured toward the office, then followed a pace or two behind her, hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers. He didn't say anything and let her take in the scene.

It looked the same, roughly, as the last time she'd visited, just sans one tall, charming headmaster to greet her with an easy smile and warm green eyes. It almost offended her that Red's office looked the same without him in it, which was silly.

But it looked the same. There were no signs of a struggle or a fight.

Xaeryn traced a finger along the edge of the desk, smiling slightly at the trio of books half on top of each other, the stack of six more haphazard next to the chair, the charcoal grey suit jacket hanging off one corner of the chairback. It was the sort of space she could guess belonged to Red Antiqua without ever seeing him in it.

The books open on the desk were familiar ones; Jalis desert tribes, pre-Castigation artefacts. The research he'd offered to recompile for her. She stared at the desk and chairs for a long moment.

"... a girl does need a job eventually, and I’ve always loved a good mystery.”

“Or even a bad one..."

She didn't like how hard it was to focus on the task at hand; she was behind the eight ball enough without getting distracted by their bull sessions here over the past sennight--

She straightened.

"Ryn? You need to leave?" Pan asked.

Xaeryn shook her head. "I'm fine," she said, voice steady. "There are books on the chairs."

"Yeah, that's Red for you." Pan shot her a questioning look. "You know the man's borderline incapable of putting away books he 'might need later', even if later turns out to be two months down the road."

She couldn't help a small laugh. "No, I do know that. The books are still on the chairs. Whoever took him didn't try to be chummy and draw out their visit. When he has company that's staying, he moves the books so they have somewhere to sit. So this was quick in and out, no signs of struggle, and they didn't try to play coy. This was a mission."

God help her, it was hard to stay and sound detached about this.

"Well, night watchman says he didn't hear or see anything odd and he's always been honest and faithful in doing his rounds. He does stay on the first floor, though, as there's no other access to up here than the lobby, and there's another watchman outside." Pan crossed his arms, looking thoughtfully around the office. "So either they knew his schedule, got blazing lucky, or... didn't come through downstairs."

"If they didn't come through downstairs, maybe they had a Traveler," Xaeryn mused. "But it would be a gamble to translocate into an unfamiliar space as small as an office." She frowned.

"Maybe they just scaled the outside of the building," Pan suggested. "Wouldn't take more than an hour of waiting to gauge the outside watchman's rounds."

"And figuring out which window would be unlocked?" Xaeryn countered, just to see how far they could follow this possibility.

Pan's eyes narrowed, and he swore under his breath before darting down the hall. She arched a brow at the abrupt departure and resumed examining the room until he returned.

"The corner office," he said, scowling. "It's unoccupied right now, so we use it when we need a break. Sela's always smoking charch in there, and then Bart opens the window to get the smell out but he never remembers to close it all the way. And if the door's mostly shut, you wouldn't see it from the hall. Hael."

"Even if we accept that theory for how they got in, how would they make a clean sneak with Red?" she pointed out. "He'd either be struggling or..." she wrinkled her nose at the phrasing even as she said it. "...dead weight."

Pan ran a hand through his hair, rubbed the back of his neck, and eventually shook his head. "Search me."

Xaeryn mulled it over for a bit, looking at the other books on Red's desk, smiling at the scraps of paper sticking out to mark pages. "What if... both idea are right? They came in through the window, but translocated out? Their hideout would be a familiar destination, thus safe to Travel to. It's an effective way to get an... unwilling or unconscious companion somewhere without much fuss."

"That means there probably were only one or two of them..." Pan sighed, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. "I offered to help him. With getting things together for you. I already know some of the details and I can keep my mouth shut. He said it was fine; this sort of thing is fun. B'sides, it wasn't like he minded doing it for you--"

Her heart squeezed. "He said that?"

"No, but, Xaer" --Pan arched a brow at her-- "I know both of you well enough to read between the lines."

She couldn't argue that. "How many times do I have to remind you you can call me Red?"

"Anyway, if I'd stayed, and there were only a couple of these toughs, maybe... maybe it would be an attempted kidnapping."

Xaeryn shook her head. "Depends how badly they wanted him." Her conversation with Briony and Darius was too fresh in her mind. "You might also be hurt or dead, and that's the last thing he'd want. Or that I want."

"Good point." He sucked the inside of his cheek. "Why would someone want Red that badly, Xaeryn? Is this... because of your case?"

"I think so." She winced. "I just don't know what part of his involvement would make him an appealing target." She hugged her arms in close against her chest. "If it was something specific or just because we were seen together and the people I'm after thought taking him would... hurt me."

They weren't wrong.

"I don't want to know all of what's going on, Ryn," Pan sighed, "but if that's the case, these sound like some pretty nasty brunos to mess with."

"They are." No point sugarcoating it.

Pan didn't reply, just leaned against the wall sucking his teeth as he watched her.

Xaeryn circled the desk again, hoping desperately for something that would be a clue or--

A curling corner of notebook paper peeked out from under one of the open books on the desk. She shifted the tomes aside and found a whole sheaf, covered front and back in sprawling notes. He'd even written in their shorthand, which made a small smile tug her lips despite the circumstances.

"He got a lot down," she muttered under her breath, the familiar shorthand making something twist in her chest. I hope you're okay.

"Yeah, I think he foisted his class on someone else so he could just work on this all day." Pan pushed off the wall and approached. "Not a shocking twist."

Xaeryn looked up from the paper, brow furrowed but didn't rise to the bait.

Pan, however, was undeterred. He sat back on the edge of the desk, giving her a skeptical look. "You two have always been thick as thieves, but it made him a special kind of dizzy to have you come waltzing back into our lives, y'know."

The twist in her chest went tighter. "I didn't know, actually. But it's always wonderful to reunite with old friends."

"Uh-huh. Old friends." Pan studied his nails a moment, then looked back at her with brows arched. "And what happened between you old friends the night of the gala to make him not say a gods-blessed word the whole way back to the hotel?"

Her fingers tightened, crinkling the paper. "That doesn't seem like a relevant line of inquiry, Panrachus," she said, gaze fixed on the page before her.

"It is to me," he countered with a knowing smile. "Maybe something in there relates to why he got nabbed."

She didn't like that thought. Even more than she disliked Pan's prying. "Nothing happened at the gala."

"And after?" Pan asked pointedly.

"...I might do something dreadfully improper."

"Also nothing." It came out sharper than intended. Thanks to your timing. Xaeryn cleared her throat. "Beyond what you already knew; I got jumped on my way back and Red helped patch up the result of defending myself." She waved the bandaged hand as proof. "I'm glad he was there; it would've been a nightmare to do alone."

"Mm-hm."

She shot him a narrow-eyed look. "Why do I feel like you don't believe me?"

"I dunno." Pan gave her a look that spoke volumes. "Do you feel like part of it shouldn't be believed?"

She looked him dead in the eye. "Nothing. Happened."

"Alright, I believe you," he shrugged. A beat. "Did you want it to?"

The whole messy torrent of emotions she been damming up since that night surged in her chest. God help me, yes.

She was saved from a moment of naked vulnerability by something gleaming on the desk, down among the books and paper. She dug for it and came up with an earring, amber bead transfixed on a small gold hoop.

"Hello there," she murmured, cradling the jewelry in her palm. "Last I checked, Red wasn't one for earrings."

Pan shook his head. "And he's the only one who's been in this office since we got back from Haven..."

There was always the chance it came from a student who'd visited prior to that, but it was the only lead she'd found. Xaeryn did not want to dwell on what she'd do it it was a dead end. If it was her fault he'd been abducted, the least she could do was save him, too.

No time like the present, she told herself, and with a deep breath sat in Red's chair. Part of her would rather have her full focus for a scry, but she didn't want to wait the two hours it would take to drive home. There was a driving, itching need to do something now. She pulled out the small bronze dish from her handbag. Scrying with so small a focus would give her a fearsome headache, but she didn't care if it let her find Red.

Pan watched from the other side of the desk, lapsed into anxious silence.

Alright, you bastard. Her hand curled around the earring. Where are you?

Scrying on the present was like sticking her head in a shallow pond to see what was on the bottom--blurry or shadowed at the edges, but she could pick up the detail she was after.

This time, however, was like trying to dive into a frozen lake.

She could see the potential for a vision, but slammed into something that blocked her from reaching it. Dead air.

Xaeryn broke the attempted scry, heedless of the dull ache starting at her temples. "No, no, no..." she mumbled, looking around the room.

"Xaer?"

"It didn't work," she said sharply. At least that confirmed the earring didn't come from a random Solhadur student, but that wasn't worth beans if she couldn't use it to find him.

Her gaze lighted on the jacket hanging off his chair and she seized it, fingers curling in the charcoal grey fabric as the smell of dusty books and his cologne filled her nose. She stared fiercely at the scrying focus, daring it not to work.

Dead air, again.

Her heart lodged in her throat and she tried to push it back down. Think this through logically, Xaeryn. It can't be coincidence, this implies it is indeed the people who have the Torch--Kaza and his allies--who took Red. They clearly have a VERY good Binder laying wards. Maybe Neon would know something; Pan said he's working in Haven now, I could ask--

"-ryn." From Pan's tone he'd repeated her name a few times at this point.

"I can't see him, either," she admitted, numb at having to say the words aloud.

"So... what next, then?"

What, indeed. There had to be something else. Something she could do, someone she could talk to. She couldn't be powerless, not now, not for this. She fought the desperation tightening her chest. Calm. Panic will only cloud your mind, and how will you help if you aren't thinking straight? It took a few moments of sitting in silence, absently rubbing the fabric of Red's jacket between her fingers as she forced herself to follow her advice.

"Well," she finally began, "given I got the same result attempting to look for Liefred or the earring's owner as I do for Solimer's Torch, it's likely they're together. It's the only times I've had this happen when I scry, so I feel it's a logical assumption. I have Thieves Guild in Haven keeping an eye out for unusual activity in Ashtown--the most likely hiding place for these hooligans. I can see if they noticed anything since I last spoke to them. Having a..." Hostage? prisoner? "...person to stash in the same building might've stirred some some activity."

"All the way back in Haven?!"

"That is where my prime suspect currently resides," she pointed out. "And I have an appointment with a pair likewise working against him; maybe they saw something helpful if the Guild didn't."

Pan sucked his teeth a moment, then cracked a small, wry smile. "Red would have a heart attack if he knew you'd made a deal with a Thieves Guild."

"He can fuss over my choices til he's blue in the face, long as it means he's safe," she retorted, pushing to her feet. "I'll ring with updates, do you have a direct number?" She scribbled it sideways up Red's notes as Pan rattled it off, collected her scrying focus to tuck that and the earring in her handbag. Maybe later she'd have better results than just a headache.

"Maybe I should come with you. Just back to Haven."

Xaeryn shook her head, resting a hand on Pan's arm. "Just in case the security teams figure something important, if you're here you can pass it along."

His expression said he saw through the excuse to keep him somewhere safe, but he nodded. "Fine."

"I'll be in touch," Xaeryn promised. She hesitated to return the suit jacket. "Do you think he'd mind if I keep this? To try again later."

"Not a drop," Pan said, shaking his head. "Find him, Xaer. And be safe, huh? I don't want to lose one friend, let alone two."

She nodded, not pointing out those request may well turn out mutually exclusive, and headed for her car.

---

Her head was awhirl the whole drive home, but she didn't have time to puzzle it out--or speak to Thieves Guild--when she got back. She was cutting it close on making her meeting with Briony and Darius. One-God willing, they'd know something that would help tie King Kaza to Red's abduction, or at least gotten something pointing to where he had stashed the Torch.

Xaeryn parked, made a brief visit to her office to lock the notes and earring in her desk, and headed briskly for the meeting. She turned the corner just in time to catch a flash of green hair as Darius ducked into the curiosities shop.

While smart not to visit the café so soon, especially since he and Briony rather stood out as customers, it made Xaeryn wish she'd warned them of the shop proprietor's eccentricities. Chandry was harmless but... off-putting to some, and Darius didn't seem the type to handle off-putting well.

But she had bigger concerns now. Xaeryn took a deep breath as she pulled open the door, but there was only so much her nerves were willing to ease.

Darius wasn't immediately visible when she entered, but he found her quickly enough. "You look riled, miss lady detective."

Xaeryn flashed a flat look for his tone. "It's warranted. Where's Briony?"

He craned his neck to look around the store. "Either on her way, or I guess she couldn't breeze on his majesty." His eyes narrowed. "You don't look happy 'bout that. What's tricks?"

She looked down, pretending to browse the curiosities on offer. "A friend of mine was abducted. I'm of a mind it's connected to our... suspect; this friend was helping me with research on the Torch."

Darius frowned, playing with a dinged up first aid kit. "That's the only connection?"

"I don't need anything else," Xaeryn hissed. She dropped the charch pipe she hadn't really been looking at. "He's a professor, for Heaven's sake! The only thing remotely dangerous he's tied to is this!" She gestured between them. "I wanted to ask Briony if she'd noticed anything in King Kaza''s behavior or visitors that might help me narrow down when he was... taken."

"We need to find the Torch," he growled in an undertone, "not your sweetheart."

"Friend," Xaeryn corrected tartly--and far too quickly, even she heard it.

"Can I help you find anything?" Chandry's arrival had been so quiet it made Darius flinch, whatever remark he was about to make lost in staring at the garishly made up--or painted, Xaeryn had never decided which side of the line it occupied--face of the shop's owner and namesake.

"Not today, Chandry," she said with a small shake of her head. "Just browsing."

"In that case... make sure you look at the new arrivals," Chandry said, patting the rolled up rugs on a nearby table. "And, smart as you are, maybe you can help me with something." He leaned forward, elbows braced on the topmost rug.

It was the fastest way to get their relative privacy back, and he had saved her from a rather embarrassing turn of conversation, so Xaeryn indulged him. "Oh?"

Chandry grinned. "I've been having a wonder this morning. Which streets," he began conspiratorially, " would have the most ghosts on them, do you think?"

Xaeryn pretended to mull it over, though the answer was obvious, even tapping her finger to her chin dramatically. "I guess it would be... dead ends?"

He all but clapped in his enthusiasm. "Correct!" A flourishing bow. "I shall leave you to your shopping." He bounded off.

"Took long enough," Darius grumbled.

"Chandry's not so bad," Xaeryn said defensively. "You just need to know how to talk to him." There are benefits to being on his good side. But they were here for a purpose. "Back to the matter at hand, I am aware of your deadline; I'm fairly sure my friend's being held in the same place as the Torch."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I can't scry on him, either!" She bit her lip. "It's the same dead air feeling as trying to do so with the Torch, and it's something I've never encountered before, so it seems a logical conclusion."

"Hm," Darius grunted. "Y'know, if Jarkyth sent the brunos who grabbed your friend, there might not be anything to glean from Ackshin."

"I thought about that. D'you know if either of them employ Diminished? Aside from Briony."

"A few, I think," he shrugged, "but you'd have to ask Bry for specifics. What about your friend; he a Mage? Put up a fight?"

"He is, but his specialization is Conjuring, translocation, not combat."

"If he's a Traveler, why-"

Xaeryn held up a finger to cut him off. "I'm trying not to think about that. None of the answers that spring to mind are pleasant, especially in relation to my best friend."

Something glittered in Darius' eyes but he didn't pursue the thought. "Didja learn anything new before you got distracted?"

She had to grit her teeth not to snap Red being abducted wasn't a distraction. Instead of giving him the satisfaction of getting under her skin, she relayed her deal with Thieves Guild and plan to talk to them when this appointment was done. "And you? Did your behind the scenes snooping turn up anything?"

"Yes and no." Darius did a double take at a fishbowl--complete with fish--before pulling himself back to the conversation. "I tailed one of Ackshin's toughs, all the way to blazin' Ashtown, but she gave me the slip." He scowled. "Felt like we were close to where she was goin', too."

Xaeryn stiffened. "What part of Ashtown was this in? I can have the Guild look more closely."

"South-eastern, I guess I'd call it," Darius said after a moment. "Almost plastered against the outer wall."

It made sense for them to be away from the main drag, though she wouldn't have expected quite that far. Unless they knew of some way out through or under the walls.... For now the important thing was having a smaller area for search.

"Alright," she murmured, half to herself, "I can work with that, provided the Guild will play ball."

"Don't suppose you have anything more actionable for me, miss snooper?" Darius interrupted her train of thought.

Xaeryn grimaced and shook her head. "No, just the deal with Thieves Guild. I'm afraid I've been a bit preoccupied by the abduction today. So unless them making a bolder move helps you in some way, I don't."

He grunted and glared at a table of kitchen paraphernalia. "Gods damn this twisted up kn-"

The door jangled forcefully as it swung open to admit a new arrival, familiar pink ponytail swishing as she looked around.

Briony's eyes flashed when she saw them and it clearly took effort to act nonchalant on her way in their direction. She called a polite response to Chandry's greeting without even looking, dodged a small table, and finally reached Xaeryn and Darius. "Glad I didn't miss you," she murmured, examining a display of commemorative playbills and paintings. "Kaza had a couple meetings where he wanted a show of strength an' I think someone might've been tailing me--"

"And you still came?!" Darius hissed. Xaeryn couldn't disagree; it seemed a terrible risk.

"I lost them first!" she retorted, flicking him an annoyed look. "I've been doing this as long as you, Darius Torren, I know how to lose a tail!"

"Oh, but they're so useful for swatting flies, why would you want to lose a tail if you had it?" Chandry interjected, and Briony looked briefly taken aback by both his sudden presence and appearance.

At least she recovered faster than Darius, showing a warm smile. "Oh, I mean a much less useful kind of tail."

Chandry shrugged at the explanation and disappeared between shelves once more.

"All else aside, I am glad you made it," Xaeryn said to steer them on track. She had to take Briony's word she'd truly shaken the tail. "Any developments for you?"

"Jarkyth came by for a bit before lunch," Briony said, after a quick glance to assure Chandry was moved off and there were no other customers in the store. "They shut themselves in the sitting room for near an hour. They're planning something with the Torch, and I feel like--"

"Any other visitors or messages this morning?" Xaeryn interrupted. "Perhaps that evoked a change in demeanor?"

Briony gave her a curious look but nodded. "He got a message during breakfast that prompted a very smug smile." Her brow furrowed. "Come to think, he did say something to the messenger that I didn't catch. Wonder if that's what made Jarkyth come over; they've been really careful about appearances. Why?" She crossed her arms. "You're being sort of intense, Xaeryn. It's scaring me."

Xaeryn explained the circumstances. Again. "And with what you say occurred, I think it's a safe bet our friends are responsible."

Briony's expression shifted aghast and she reached over to squeeze Xaeryn's shoulder comfortingly. It was a surprisingly hefty squeeze. "Are you doing alright?"

Xaeryn nodded. "Don't have the luxury to be otherwise."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Actually, yes. Do you know of any other Diminished among King Kaza's entourage?"

Briony's face screwed in thought. "That came along? Just a few. It's funny; he's superstitious as hael, likes to flaunt me at every opportunity, but he's also nervous about trusting in magic too much. There's a Binder, to do his protective wards. Shy little redhead, I've never heard her speak and don't even know her name," she said regretfully, twirling her ponytail as she continued. "Heron's Ket, mostly here for his skill with battle magic, but he's a fair hand at conjuring--"

"Traveing?" Xaeryn's brows arched.

"He... probably could if he had to," Briony nodded, then gave a small gasp. "You think he's the one who took your friend?"

"Seems likely," Xaeryn said. If he was a full-blood Ket he could do it single-handed. "Are they the only ones?"

"For Ackshin, yeah. Jarkyth has a few 'judiciously placed servants' he's alluded to. Mostly things like Binding or Seer, useful but not dangerous if they decide to turn on him. Has a Shifter Heron won't stop nattering about." She smirked. "I think he's stuck on her."

Darius snorted. "Not important, Bry."

"You never know, D." She shrugged and turned to Xaeryn. "So, why do they want your friend?"

"I've been trying to figure that," Xaeryn sighed, trailing her fingers over a dark lantern. "Even from unpleasant angles. If they know I'm on their trail and want to keep me in the dark, I've already learned--and written down--near everything about the Torch, and there are... more final ways to remove him as a source.

"If they want to use him as leverage to make me dust on the case, you'd think they'd be more blatant or would have left a note-"

"Unless they're countin' on your big brain to fill in the blanks," Darius interjected sardonically. "An' you knowin' without them sayin' serving to make you more suggestible."

"Such a ray of sunshine, D," Briony groused, elbowing him sharply.

"He has a point," Xaeryn said, gritting her teeth at the thought. "But they'll be quite disappointed if that's their goal."

Briony flashed a fierce smile as she shifted to a shelf of knick knacks. "So, what's our plan, then?"

"Darius mentioned trailing one of the king's people to Ashtown. I'll have Thieves Guild watch the area more closely if they're amenable" --and she'd sweeten the deal if that's what it took to make them amenable--"you and Darius keep an eye for our friends' behavior so we can act swiftly if they do anything hinky." She tapped a finger to her lips. "I hate being stuck in so reactive a course, but I fear it's where our options lay."

Though if opportunity presented itself she would seize it with both hands.

"I guess you're righ- Oh, this is adorable!" Briony gave a delighted (and distracted) squeal as she snatched a small ceramic ahfuri off the shelf. It was adorable, but-

Xaeryn cleared her throat.

"I'll keep eyes peeled," Briony promised, cradling her find.

"How're we passing along anything we see?" Darius asked.

"Telephone or wire, I suppose," Xaeryn replied.

"Right." Briony nodded, wiggling slightly as she glanced toward the counter. "I'm gonna go pay for this." She darted across the store.

Darius fixed Xaeryn with a steady look. "You will tell us if you learn anything, right, miss snooper? Before you go harin' off after your friend alone?"

"Have you decided to worry about me in his absence?" Xaeryn said dryly.

He just arched a brow.

"I promise to pass along anything I learn, I don't promise to wait before acting on it."

Darius chuckled and glanced at Briony, who was chatting up Chandry with another warm smile as she paid. "Don't s'ppose I can blame you for that." He tugged on his cap. "See you soon, lady detective."

Briony noted him leaving and darted after him, barely remembering to grab her purchase.

Xaeryn smiled and browsed a few more minutes before heading for the door herself.

A hand on her arm stopped her just before she exited. "One moment," Chandry chirped, pressing something into her palm. "Don't forget your prize."

Xaeryn blinked at the bronze sun brooch. "Prize-?"

The riddle.

"To the victor go the spoils," Chandry proclaimed, releasing her arm to give another bow, and then ducked away. Rather than drag things out by protesting or trying to insist on paying--experience said he wouldn't take a danar--Xaeryn slipped the brooch in her handbag and headed for her office.

---

It hit her like a thunderbolt halfway up the steps--it was midafternoon and she'd not eaten since breakfast. As if summoned by the realization, her stomach cramped and her knees bobbled on the next step.

Xaeryn scowled at the reminder she needed to eat. There was too much to do, she needed to talk to Thieves Guild, she needed to poke around, she needed to find Red before--

Her stomach growled loudly.

I think there's still my half a sandwich left from yesterday, she surrendered--reluctantly--to her body's urging. After all, she wouldn't get much done if she fainted from hunger. The half sandwich. Perhaps an apple. Ten minutes to eat. She could spare that. Red would fuss if he knew she wasn't taking care of herself.

Xaeryn smiled wryly as she unlocked the door. That was better motivation than anything. She checked the back of the door as she closed it; no sigil showing, so no break-in attempt. She collected the sandwich and apple, opting to sit at her desk and review notes while she ate. Maybe there was something helpful she'd missed.

There was quite a bit to review, though less than it appeared by page count given Red's sprawling shorthand. He didn't doodle like she did, instead filling the page edge to edge. It didn't look like he'd found anything new while getting this together and it was easy to skim.

As she tucked the papers back in the drawer her gaze landed on the earring. She set down the small remaining portion of her sandwich and stared.

Couldn't hurt to try again...

She removed the earring, fetched her scrying disk, and cleared her mind to focus. The disk's surface clouded, cleared, and gave her nothing but the same dead air.

Xaeryn growled and glared at the earring. "Where is he?!"

She'd run into protective wards or sigils before blocking scries. This was different; just empty not blocked, and it kept happening on this case--

The telephone rang. She very seriously considered not answering. She needed to get to Ashtown. But that would be unprofessional, and what if it was Pan? Or Darius, or Briony, though this would be awful quick for one of them. So she sighed and picked up the receiver. "Xaeryn Shrike Investigations." Please be quick.

"Finally!" Ms. Aerin huffed on the other end. "I've been trying to reach you for hours, Miss Shrike!"

Really should get a secretary... "Apologies, there was a development and I was out of office." She ran a hand down her face.

"From your tone, I'd reckon this is not a positive development in the direction of recovering the artefact and arresting the thieves?"

"It might lead there," Xaeryn acknowledged. "But the actual occurrence is not. They abducted my friend who'd been helping with research."

"Ah. My condolences, Miss Shrike. Is there any chance of them learning compromising details?"

"Not if I've followed the trail to correct suspicions, no. He knows the history and legend around the Torch, but not the current state of my investigation." She shifted her grip on the telephone. "And my suspect is already familiar with all of that."

"Ah, so you do have a firm suspect."

"Mm." The brooch slid out of her handbag when she nudged it aside, and Xaeryn picked it up to toy with as she talked. "I was pretty firmly on his scent after the gala, but I met a couple... inside men, shall we say, who confirmed my suspicions. So I've found the man, I believe, I just need to find where he's stashed the artefact" --and Red--"and proof of his complicity in the matter."

"Excellent! Mr. Syndran told me you had some promising leads from the gala, I'm glad to hear one of them panned out," Ms. Aerin said. "The case has felt... treading water too long."

"Oh, yes, I suppose those developments did occur after we talked," Xaeryn murmured, tracing the bronze sun's rays.

"Talked?" There was a frown in her voice. "Miss Shrike, I wasn't there."

Something cold skittered down Xaeryn's spine to swirl in her gut. "What? I grant that it was a full night, but I distinctly remember talking to you."

"Then apparently I have a doppelganger," Ms. Aerin said tartly. "I didn't go, Miss Shrike. I was dealing with the effects of a traitorous sandwich at lunch."

Food poisoning?? "Then who..." The nagging sensation of just missing something was back. Followed like a bucket of ice water by the thought of the conversation she'd just had.

There's a Shifter working for Jarkyth.

"Did you inform Mr. Syndran you wouldn't be attending?" Xaeryn asked, willing her voice to stay level as her mind raced to incorporate this twist.

"Of course. I called the office." A pause. "I was honestly surprised to learn he attended without me. But the Hall is an important enough contract, I suppose it makes sense..."

Xaeryn shifted in her seat and cleared her throat. "Ms. Aerin, to all appearances, he attended with you."

There was a long silence as the other woman processed her words, followed by a snort. "Do you expect me to believe some impersonator managed to fool Riel Syndran into thinking she was me for several hours?!?!"

"Not for hours," Xaeryn corrected. "A few minutes for the drive to the gala, and then a short chat every so often throughout the evening. Mingling's the point of such an event, from my understanding. And at one point when I was chinning with him he mentioned 'you' were bustling about as if the gala was your responsibility instead of the museum's."

"That is the sort of thing I would do," Ms. Aerin sighed. "Still, I wonder how she pulled it off. And why."

"Information would be my guess," Xaeryn said. She idly clipped the brooch to her blouse and pulled out her notepad to page through. "My chief suspect is the king of Elinden, who has cultural and religious motives if he is indeed responsible, and at least a few high-placed political connections who could hire or employ someone skilled at disguise. The only motive I could imagine would be nosing around to see if there's information they missed. Or something they need that I have, or if there was worry I was too close on their trail." She flexed her bruised hand, evidence of the answer to that.

"And what would they have learned from your chat with her?"

"From me? That I had talked to Miss Aescar about people who tried to buy, claim, or steal the Torch. And that my notepad had been stolen. Nothing they didn't know already."

"They knew about the notepad?" Ms. Aerin said, arched brow in her voice.

"Oh, right." Xaeryn explained the reasoning behind that belief, the words trailing off as she reached a particular note from her inaugural meeting with Briony and Darius. She stared at it a moment, then decided to take a shot in the dark. "Ms. Aerin, did you go to the museum to oversee the arrival of the artefacts?"

"That was the plan," Ms. Aerin replied. "However, there were a couple... issues that arose requiring my attention, so I had to leave before they were done."

Got you. Despite the nagging sensation still growing at the base of her skull, Xaeryn smirked. "Thank you. Enlightening as this conversation has proven, was there a reason you were trying to reach me? I have a couple time-sensitive angles to investigate..."

"Just looking for an update; we hadn't heard from you yet today and Mr. Syndran is getting restless at how long things are dragging out."

"Believe me, I share his disapporval of that," Xaeryn said, running a finger over the notepad page. "I'm highly motivated to change it, and hopeful one of the new angles will bear significant fruit."

"Very well then, I'll leave you to it. Good day, Miss Shrike."

"Good day." The nagging grew stronger as she dropped the telephone back in its cradle. She was missing something, something right in front of her, and she couldn't help but feel it was something vital.

Deep breath and half a step back, she told herself. If Ms. Aerin hadn't stayed to oversee the whole delivery at the museum, and she knew from Darius and Ferrin's accounts nothing happened to the couriers' caravan on the way through the city, then it seemed clear the Shifter masqueraded as her to get access once the delivery arrived but she'd left. Xaeryn pulled out the photograph of Solimer's Torch. It wasn't even the size of her palm; easy to conceal in a handbag or pocket--or your blouse if you were feeling bold.

I know how they did it. The adrenaline rush at that victory was somewhat dulled by knowing these people--smart, bold, and desperate--had Red.

The Shifter had probably been emboldened by her success at the delivery--faking bad humor so people were glad to be rid of you was one off the oldest tricks in the book. Enough to attempt something more daring, like copying Aerin again for the gala--

Xaeryn sat bolt upright in her chair, the nagging turned to gut-wrenching revelation as pieces clicked. There was one more thing the Shifter had learned from her at the gala.

Red was the only other person who could read her shorthand.

Nausea twisted and she almost tasted her lunch again. It really was her fault. She'd relayed the damning information to the culprits with blithe ignorance.

And now that she knew, and was recalling the encounter with a more critical eye, all the clues seemed blatantly obvious. The chillier manner, the repeated 'Detective Shrike' rather than 'Miss', the vague prodding at topics they had already discussed.

Self-flagellation later, tracking down Red now, she scolded. The one silver lining to realizing her gaffe was that if they had abducted Red for such a purpose, they'd need him alive, conscious, and (mostly) unharmed.

The swift counter to that--and extreme incentive to hurry--was she had no idea how far they'd go to make him cooperate. Or what they wanted from her notes. Or if they would believe what he claimed about their contents.

There was not, however, any doubt in her mind what would happen once they had what they wanted.

She needed to talk to Thieves Guild. Now.

Xaeryn pushed away from the desk with vigor, only just remembered to lock up the case paraphernalia, and headed out the door, determined steps carrying her toward Ashtown.

---

She'd wound her way through the streets and was just in sight of the cat graffiti outside the Guild's warehouse when movement raked her peripheral vision and a lanky figure dropped off a low roof nearby.

"You're sure gettin' easy with navigating our streets, Miss Shrike," Chase said with a grin, shoving his hands in his pockets. Dust or dirt smeared the sleeve and front of his dark red shirt, and his green eyes twinkled as he examined her. "Quite the skill for a proper lady to develop; people will talk."

"An excellent memory is actually quite a useful skill to refine as a detective," Xaeryn corrected. "I need to speak with you."

"Oho, straight to the point." He was still grinning. "This about the deal you made with Ari?" One hand came out of the pocket to gesture toward the warehouse door.

"Yes." She gripped her handbag tightly more out of urgency than concern. "I wanted to talk about the terms."

"Changing them on us already?" Chase made a tsking sound as he turned into a room, smaller than where they'd spoken before, more of an office. "Not wise to play around with Thieves Guild, sunshine."

Xaeryn grit her teeth. Miss Shrike. But it wasn't worth it. "Not... changing in any way meant to be detrimental or unfair to you," she said, taking a seat when he offered. "You know I'd asked your people to keep an eye for anything hinky. I was wondering what the trade off would be for more closely examining a smaller area."

"So, rather than a general 'let me know if anything weird happens on your turf', you want us to poke around part of it for something specific?" Chase sat behind what approximated a desk as he spoke--planks balanced atop crates--and put his feet up.

"Yes. What change would that bring to our bargained price?"

He smirked and played with one of his rings, studying her face with a keen look in his eyes. "Well, seeing as we've already made a pretty lyss off you, which I'm sure you'll at least partly claim as a business expense, so Merchants Guild foots the bill" --he gave a Cheshire grin at the thought--"I don't want any more of your money."

She arched a brow. "No?" The hair prickled at her nape.

Chase slid a knife free of its boot sheath and stared at the blade nonchalantly. "No, I think for this I want a favor." His eyes flicked to hers. "Regardless of if we find what you're after."

"Accepted, but I won't do anything illegal," Xaeryn said without a beat of hesitation.

"Darling, this is Thieves Guild," he drawled, his grin unwavering under piercing green eyes.

"And I"m certain there's at least a few legitimate things you can think of to ask me," she countered. "Nothing. Illegal." She'd square anything else between her and the One-God, but she wasn't going to jeopardize her livelihood doing something that would turn the police fully against her. She was already sort of a grey area to them. If push came to shove, she'd look for Red and the Torch herself.

"If it has to be on the up, then two favors," Chase said. He was studying her with narrowed eyes and it made her wonder what he saw.

She didn't feel like playing games to get an answer out of him, however. "One regardless, two if you're successful. I'm interested now in just the south-eastern quarter, near the wall in particular. Looking for a building that's being used to stash at least one stolen artefact and a... captive. But before you shift into that, did your people see anything from the more general assignment?"

"Twiggy blonde in the northeast part of the district, just hanging around." He waggled his brows. Xaeryn knew as well as he did people did not loiter in Ashtown for their health. "But she didn't do anything much; lingered and left, so I'd wager she got dusted on by whoever was s'pposed to meet her."

It didn't seem relevant, but she filed it away nonetheless. "Thank you. I'll be checking soon to see if you've found anything with the narrowed area."

"Anxious, are we?" Chase said with a knowing smile. "And could I get a description of this 'captive'? In case we see them, we should know if it's the right person, wouldn't you say?"

"He's tall, red hair, green eyes, street clothes sans jacket and perhaps tie." He didn't always wear one. "I'm not sure how they've been treating him, so he might be roughed up." She stood. "And this is a time-sensitive case that has already drug out longer than desired, so perhaps I am a bit anxious for its conclusion."

"Hopefully we'll find something that can help with that goal." He swung his feet down. "Be seein' you, Miss Shrike."

"You certainly will, Chase." She made her way outside, blinked through the dim-to-bright shift again, and briefly considered poking around herself before deciding to return to her office. Perhaps scrying on Red directly would work this time... If she could just see him, it would help the worry gnawing in her chest. No matter how dire the straits.

---

It did not work. Still nothing. Xaeryn hated feeling powerless at the best of times, not being able to do anything now, with Red in harm's clutches, was pure torture. It was getting harder and harder to fight off the frantic, paralyzing dread as each avenue she explored dropped a dead end in her path. She even got desperate enough to poke around the king's hotel, but that, too, came up empty.

She wasn't truly hungry, but when dinner time came she didn't have anything else to do except pray and go over notes again. Wait for Briony or Darius to reach out, if they would have cause. So she fixed something small and made herself eat. She didn't taste a bite.

To keep herself from pacing a hole in the floor, she decided to give scrying with the earring one more shot. Third time's the charm, wasn't that the saying?

Yes, she was getting a headache from scrying so much in one day. (Or trying to.) No, she didn't care if it would let her find Red before something happened to him.

There was a sense of last-ditch finality to this attempt as she prepared. Logic would dictate giving up if it failed to produce result again. Xaeryn wasn't sure she could be logical about this.

She pinched the earring between her thumb and first two fingers, focused on the bronze scrying disk, and sent up a prayer. One-God, please.

The surface wavered, clouded, cleared on an image. A lightning bolt of desperate relief seared through her and she almost lost the scry before focusing greedy attention on what she could see. A tall man, well built, with silvery-white hair. She strained her concentration until pain lanced her temples and could make out the Ket tattoo on his wrist and earring the match of the one she held in his ear. The background was fuzzy, but she got the sense of generic grandeur, like a ritzy hotel. Another figure stepped into the bounds of her scry--King Kaza Ackshin.

Xaeryn struggled to keep her breathing steady as hope nipped at her soul. A solid connection.

There was another silhouette at the edge, just a shadow, but it might've been Briony. The posture and ponytail looked right.

Her subject--Heron, she'd guess--and King Kaza were exchanging words, which the silent nature of scries meant she didn't catch, and their positioning made it hard to read lips. But it was clear from body language they were preparing to leave. The toll was too much and the scry faded as the figures headed out of the room.

Xaeryn's heart pounded with adrenaline and exertion in equal share as she sat back.

A lead. Oh, blessed God above, she had a lead. They were heading somewhere, the gamble was if it was where she wanted to find or something unrelated.

She was on her feet and halfway across the room before she remembered her promise to Darius. If Briony was with King Kaza, did that count as one of them knowing? Did she really have time...

Xaeryn groaned, turned back the desk, and called the place Darius had said he was staying. No, "Mr. Thrace" wasn't in, did she want to leave a message for him? Deep breath through her nose. "Tell him to meet his snooper friend by the Ashtown gate. She's not going to wait for him long." She hung up before the desk clerk could respond.

If she hustled, she could pick up the king's entourage at the gates and follow. If that's where they were going. If it wasn't, she'd be out of the office, should anyone try to reach her, and miss a vital update.

She had to follow this. To be so close, have this dropped almost literally in her lap...

What she'd seen of King Kaza's expression was eager--he was looking forward to wherever this would lead. That thought alone tipped the balance. There was only one course of action for her and she knew it.

Xaeryn didn't even bother with a hat this time. She only grabbed her handbag because it held her dagger, and if she'd chosen correctly, she would likely need it.

Please let me be right. Please let him be alright. There was no way to ensure someone knew what she was doing--she really should get a secretary--so she'd just have to hope. Hope Briony was truly along, or Darius wasn't out long to get her message, or something. This might very well be the culmination of her case, and all she cared about was saving her friend.

"Nothing. Happened."

"Did you want it to?"

Her hands were shaking as she locked the drawer, locked the door, and hurried toward the Ashtown gates, thoughts on Red and a fervent prayer in her heart.

#queens fic #shoh #shepherds of haven #xaeryn shrike #liefred antiqua #panrachus #briony stormbreaker #chase trinaeste #tlbt #ryn/red

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