Crow waited for the last and rather critical member of the Brain Trust to arrive at the meeting. It was a virtual space Samantha had helped design based on original intentions for the inner workings of her pyramid monument. It had a built-in dress code that, at first, Crow found stupid and tiresome. But, seeing it all in action, and him and the rest wearing their mostly matching attire, well… it was growing on him a bit.

  All black and white ‘tuxedos’ in the apparent fashion of Earth, with black bow-ties at the neck. They all wore black and white masks split in color down the middle. All of this was almost entirely uniform, but there was one identifying trait: hats. Crow loved his, as it fit with everything: it was just a straight, brimmed, black hat. Samantha claimed ‘The Undertaker’ wore similar, which Crow was unfamiliar with but it sounded perfect.

  This is mine.

  Orswyth was in some sort of tweed hat that curved from the end down to the front. When Ash (sporting a huge pointy ‘witch hat’) had asked about it, Orswyth replied with a grin in his voice, “She said it was typical for old guys. And damn it, I like it anyway. As she might say: you can’t mess with success.”

  Not all of the Brain Trust were present or coming. Other notables and their hat styles were Carlisle in the simplest front-rimmed black cap, Tashome in some strange, black, conical bamboo thing that hid his eyes (Crow could tell he liked it), and Uriel with a medium tophat with bronze gear symbols and goggles resting on the top. Of everyone, Uriel was probably most proud of his headwear, proclaiming joyously before anyone asked, “She said it’s ‘steampunk!’ Like her prior incarnation wore! Isn’t it cool?”

  Nerd.

  The table they sat at was round and made of white marble with elaborate black runic etching around the lip. In the center was the ‘pyramid with an eye’ motif, and scattered around it were designs of the various birds of the order in flight. All of their chairs were triangular in shape, and glassy black as of obsidian. The chamber was dark and the lighting moody, making everything quite ominous.

  Samantha is an even bigger nerd than Uriel. Haven’t I made this point before?

  While they waited on Zephyr, Crow studied Ash — despite the mask on her face. She seemed boundlessly curious, asking everyone about this or that detail. Her energy was frenetic and perhaps nervous. She seemed to avoid Crow from all of them, so he decided to poke at the matter.

  Clearing his throat loudly, Crow called, “Ash. Is it necessary for you to be here when you have that ritual operation to deal with?”

  Ash’s head whipped over to him. She stared a moment before answering. “Ah, well, that’s all prepped up! Just a holding period until the proper hour.”

  “I see.”

  Ash shifted uncomfortably. “Actually, um… we should talk. I meant to earlier. I procrastinated, and then the murder occurred, so…”

  “Oh? About? Go ahead.”

  “Later. Privately.”

  “Hmm. As you wish.” Perhaps she wishes to speak of the past life familiarity. I’ve heard she has visions. If she has insight, it would be worth it to listen.

  Ash nodded, appearing quite relieved for some reason.

  Huge double doors creaked open, and ridiculous billowing smoke poured out, veritably clinging to the floor. A silhouette revealed itself to be Zephyr — hopefully. He was masked like the rest. His hat was a fancy but respectable derby with a small feather on the side.

  Zephyr strolled over to his seat. “Sorry I’m late,” he muttered as he got settled. “Had a mishap with the mephit I summoned to help with the analysis. Helpful, but as capricious as any fae. I perhaps kept him too long.”

  “That’s why the Dominion avoids summons,” Ash replied. “With no information loss for our replacements, mind. Try learning the modern methods, old man.” There was a tease in her voice.

  Zephyr pointed his finger at her in admonishment. “Quiet, you upstart!” Teasing right back. “If it was good enough for the ancients of the free lands, it’s good enough for us. Perhaps I’ll summon one and assign it to help you, so an Ivory Tower modernite can learn some respect for the old-fashioned methodology.”

  “I’d sooner spend time in a rack, honestly.”

  Tashome suddenly cleared his throat loudly, his head lifting but his eyes still obscured by his conical hat. “Moving on to business. Zephyr, Ash, and I have cooperated to provide differing insights into the artifact piece involved in the murder, as recovered by Crow. We’re here to share what we’ve found. Zephyr will go first, then-”

  “Zephyr can cover the measly extra bits I found,” Ash interrupted. “I mostly collaborated with him, so it would be awkward to separate our findings. I’ll note if he leaves anything worthwhile out.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Understood. I’ll go after Zephyr.” Tashome nodded to the masked man in the derby to begin.

  Zephyr leaned forward on the table with his fingers interlaced before him. “This is an old, old artifact specifically designed for traps, ambush, and assassination. It has near sapient intelligence essentially making it a sophisticated killer pet. Its aura is saturated with the dark, damp, and dead underworld, making it likely to have a recent origin from the caverns such as under the mountains, or other nasty dungeons.”

  He sighed. “Unfortunately, without the whole item, the specificity such as its name, designer, owner, command word, and so on, cannot be gleaned. What sparse information we’ve obtained, it was actually quite challenging with just an inert piece. On the plus side, it's quite a link of Sympathy. Preliminary scrying or tracking hasn’t worked, but there are more time-consuming methods to yet try.”

  “I corroborate those aural findings,” Tashome offered. “It is saturated with this as if it were lying as some trap in a tomb — for centuries at the least. Something else, too… a nearly scrubbed-out stain. The presence of torture. Physical victims. It might’ve been present in an old torture chamber before being pressed into service.”

  Ash snapped her fingers. “That points to the County of Ultaboro and the Barony of Fallsland! Both have supposedly unused, long-buried dungeons. In both cases, they were supposed to be filled and sealed with cement, according to the Dominion’s Protocols of Dignity. I don’t believe either actually was, or if they were, magic was secretly used at some point to carve them back out.”

  Crow nodded slowly. “Baron Fallsland specifically is rumored to spend time in the intricate dungeons below his castle. What you say seems to be an open secret.”

  “A damning revelation along with his ties to the Capital. What news is there of the response to Agatha’s death?”

  “It has reached them all and they are marshalling their forces. Some other key barony, in addition to the three Agatha mentioned. Dittany. The Baron has a weak claim but is believed to hope for a quick agreement with neighboring Ultaboro for concessions. If not, he may join against the miserly count with Lord Gallust, so the pressure cannot be ignored for long.”

  Ash barked a laugh. “To think, the old bastard being forced into paying. It’s like chewing rocks to him.”

  Tashome spoke back up. “If I have the time to invest, I may be able to fashion the piece into a tracker that seeks to return to its original mass. I should note an additional detail in its nature and aura: dog-like. Devotion, loyalty, and exuberance to its tasks. That’s baked in.”

  Crow leaned back and rubbed his chin. “Now that is interesting.” Something deeper to this killer. I can tell. I’m left with more questions. “Anything further on the artifact, Tashome and Zephyr?” Zephyr shook his head.

  Tashome added, “It cannot regenerate the piece. Cut off, it is forever inert. If you cut the mass in half, half would die and the rest continue in animation. I’m not sure what the minimum amount of material is before it is fully rendered inert.”

  “A useful insight. Tashome, if I may ask, cut a section for long study, and another for the potential tracker.”

  “Feasible. Why?”

  “I want you to continue delving into it and pondering it. It’s like a puzzle to you, isn’t it?”

  Tashome lifted his head enough to meet Crow’s eyes. He shrugged. “Any such complex pieces of magic are, yes.”

  “Anything at all that you notice, or fancy to delve into, do so and inform me — or take notes and send them. As it happens, I suddenly thought about and investigated a minor detail recently.”

  “I’m assuming you can share? This is the place, after all.”

  “Hmm? Oh. Yes. The mockery of vines and the leaves are a particular kind that grows in a narrow equatorial band, it seems. Highly sensitive to climate and altitude and only grow in forests. None grow in Mot Mekess’s band, nor south of it. Only north, starting somewhere between Mot Mekess and Restwater.”

  For a moment, everyone paused, as if waiting for the reveal. Then Ash slapped the table. “Elkberry vine! Of course! That distinctive leaf pattern. And only one place with enough wild forest fits the bill out our culprits. Fallsland!”

  “Yes, I guess we solved the case,” Crow said dryly. “But let’s hold off on celebrating just yet. There is always more to know. Additional lines of evidence would be welcome.”

  “I wholeheartedly agree!”

  Pythia suddenly flew over from her spot to hover in front of Crow on her little platform. She looked ridiculous… a cat in a suit, mask, and a weird, tall, striped, drooping hat. She somehow seemed deeply uncomfortable with the whole arrangement, even through a mask. “I’m seeing the pattern of you having inner doubts, Crow,” she said, peering at him from close by. “I think you should get in the habit of sharing those when they come to you. Like right now, please.”

  Crow eyed the absurd-looking feline and shrugged. “A little too obvious. All of it. Multiple lines of packed evidence make me narrow my eyes.”

  “And have you considered that you’re too devious? This thing almost got away scot-free. It tried to. You can’t be suggesting some sort of frame job under these conditions.”

  “It appeared to try, yes… once discovered. Perhaps we were more incompetent than a devious mind assumed. In which case, we pulled a last-ditch save for their purposes. Perhaps they had other contingencies if we didn’t. It might be a stretch, yes. I’m not sold either way, no. But, you asked, didn’t you?”

  “It hurts nothing to express doubt. That worm is useful in the mind of others who could help you, and thereby help us all.”

  “I concur,” Ash said.

  Crow left a long pause. This feline gets on my nerves with this, but the logic is sound. “Noted. I’ll try to remember.”

  “Thank you,” Pythia replied. “Now that you’ve enlightened me on your perspective, I see weight to new patterns. Potential disorder in ours. I recommend we hedge our bets and investigate more angles. We might be missing something. Are there any other orders of business?”

  Aramis spoke up. “Discussion of what we actually do if we are to target Fallsland or another one of these targets. Political ramifications will echo no matter what…”

  Crow listened with half an ear. He met Ash’s eyes, who still had that nervous energy.

  Time to find out what this is about.

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