There are only two industries in Sabbelah: Academia and Enchantment. Everyone, every baker, every blacksmith, every sailor works only to support those twin engines. And if one were not necessary for the other, I fear they would be not but savages on the sands, tossing lightning over the livable scraps of shore.

  -Tzu Ye, High court Historian of Ao Guan

  Racing through the gate, Komena found the diplomat’s apartments just as empty as they had been yesterday. That was good. It let her maintain speed as she ran, gasping, into the Corlin building and up its stairs. She slowed to a walk as she went down the hall, taking quiet gasps. This early, she’d had to run the entire way instead of paying a driver. Not unprecedented, still unpleasant. Her breath was mostly back by the time she reached Struth’s door and started knocking, hard and fast.

  “Struth! Let me in! Struth!” She shouted. The door opened a crack and Kave peeked out.

  “Quiet! It’s barely morning out and you’re already yelling. What’s worth making a scene like this?” He asked, rubbing his eyes. He was still more put together than she was, clothes clean and unwrinkled. Komena wasn’t sure if that was due to him getting some rest or his own standards.

  “There’s been another murder. Sounds like it was done the same way that the Dean’s was. I want to talk to Struth about looking into it. Or did you two already work out what the thing is?” Komena answered, grabbing the door’s edge, and trying to pull it open.

  “We’ve eliminated a couple of options, but not enough to be useful.” Kave said as he fought to keep the door closed. “Either way, Struth is resting right now and can’t talk about the case. Surely this can wait an hour or so for him to collect himself.”

  That was tempting. It would only be polite for the brat to let her inside for those hours. After a night of walking, sitting down would be almost as good as sleep. Maybe twist his arm for another pot of tea.

  But someone had been killed. Murdered. Not some academic, who could have kept their head down and been alive today. Muarim had sold flowers for a living. His death had been entirely outside his power to stop. And who did it benefit? Killing someone to corner the tulip market was too petty, even by Sabbelah’s standards. Just sitting with the curiosity would be worse than the run here had been.

  “No, it can’t. We need to get there before whatever faculty has jurisdiction starts their own investigation. I’ve seen those idiots blunder through work. They’ll ruin whatever there is to find.”

  Kave looked back into the room. For a second Komena thought he would offer to come along alone. Then he sighed.

  “He’d hate to be left out if this. Wait here. I’ll wake him.” He said, before closing the door.

  To his credit, it hasn’t a lie. If he was just buying time, he would have locked the door. As it was, he didn’t notice as Komena gently opened it behind him. From the entrance, she could see Struth asleep on his couch, still fully dressed in his clothes from yesterday. Speaking softly, Kave stopped a few feet away from him. Trying to wake him as gently as possible. It wouldn’t work. The man was a heavy enough sleeper to ignore her pounding on the door.

  Kave crept closer, slowly coming to the same conclusion. He reached out a hand towards Struth’s shoulder. Just as he got close, Struth snapped awake. He was on his feet faster than Komena could blink and lashing out. Kave ducked under the heavy backhand strike, obviously expecting the reaction.

  “Ugh, Kave.” Struth said, blinking into awareness. “We’ve been over the proper way to wake me -Ah Ms. Siri.” Kave turned over and began glaring at her. Komena gave a little wave to them both as Struth stretched himself fully awake.

  “I would have given you more time to rest. But there’s been another murder, too similar to ours to ignore.” She said.

  “I see. Then you were right wake us. We don’t have time to waste.” Struth said. He grabbed his shoes and began pulling them on in the hall. Kave was already ready to leave and locked the door behind the trio.

  “Do you have any idea who the new victim is? Or where they were found?” he asked as they went.

  “I stopped to ask some people I overheard. Muarim Pendros was a gardener. They ran a small shop and had the morning paper sent there every day. He didn’t answer the door this morning. Delivery boy opens the door, looks around, then runs out screaming. Apparently Muarim was thoroughly mauled. That starts the rumor mill up, which is how I heard of it.” Komena said.

  Struth put up a hand. “Excuse me? If he was a gardener, then he would be working for the Faculty of Agriculture. Isn’t this their affair then? Will they take offense to this?”

  “No, he opened an independent store after graduating with a minor degree. Sold small potted things for the rich.” Komena said turning to Kave.

  “Are you going to be able to be hold it together better this time, kid?”

  Kave drew himself up indignantly, an image ruined by the wobbling of his ludicrous turban. “It’s my responsibility to assist Struth when he needs it. Don’t insult me by implying I can’t fulfill that responsibility.”

  She clicked her tongue and led the way. The murder was in the market district, so close enough to walk to. Arguing about it would be slower than simply seeing how he reacted to more death.

  ***

  Komena was born and raised in Sabbelah, and she had never seen another market square besides the one she’d grown up with. She imagined that they were all fairly similar. Smaller maybe, selling fewer magical goods for certain; but the general idea, the stalls, storefronts, and the swarm of people moving excitedly through between them, was probably consistent across all four continents.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Komena was wrong.

  The Grand Market of Sabbelah was unique in the world. Almost as old as the city and built near what would become the city docks. Originally, a place for the faculties to freely show and sell their wonders to the citizens. In the brief time since the discovery of the wider world, it had exploded. It had become a mammoth engine, designed to pump magic out and bring in the many necessities the desert didn’t produce. The main square was occupied exclusively by foreign merchants and locals selling them wands, potions, and weapons. The things your average market would sell; food, clothing, and basic services, were found on the outskirts of the market. Hidden away in dull shacks and used exclusively by locals.

  Muarim operated out of one of these. To be fair it was nicer than expected. A white and blue painted brick building kept spotlessly clean and shining. It announced itself with a simple illusion, a sign reading “Muarim’s Argicultural Services”. No one was crowding around the store. Either word hadn’t spread far enough to draw anyone yet, or the faculty responsible for enforcing the law around this part of the market had already chased them off.

  “Are you familiar with this store, Ms. Siri?” Struth asked. She responded with a non-committal wave of the hand.

  “I heard of it. Apparently, he’s better than average, but I don’t buy house plants and he’s been kind enough to not do anything that would involve him in my interests.”

  “Well, obviously he was involved with something, or he’d be out working now. Any ideas to what it could be?” Kave said.

  “That’s what we’re here to find out.” Komena said, striding ahead and opening the door.

  The inside of the shop was dark. The blinds were drawn shut across the few windows, and Muarim hadn’t had the chance to cast whatever spells normally lit the room. It was an issue that Kave quickly solved, conjuring a red ball of fire in his hand. The light revealed a normal storefront, no sign of the carnage that had marked the Dean’s quarters.

  The small room was built around a desk, surrounded by common plants. They were hardy things that could stand thorough investigation by customers, all with a healthy green and a glossy sheen to them. A heavy scroll was laid across the desk, listing various orders and signatures. After a quick inspection, Komena found it to be useless. None of the names were of the exceptionally wealthy and all the orders were middling. One bouquet, two herb pots there, a rose bush for a window box. It wasn’t even a particularly heavy workload, so he hadn’t been killed out of envy for his business.

  “We’ll need to search the backrooms to find the body.” Komena said as she rolled the scroll back up.

  “I expected there to be authorities here already. Can we be sure that they haven’t already come to take the body away?” Struth asked.

  “Maybe. Depends on which Faculty is responsible for this area. They all have their own methods of dealing with these problems. If they have, we should be able to follow through with whoever is handling that.” Komena said, pulling open the backdoor. “Dean’s authority and all that. But it’s still better to see for ourselves.”

  The backdoor led into a short hall, that in turn split off into two rooms. One was a supply closest, dirtier than the reception area had been. A mess of small shovels and carefully packaged soil dominated one of the walls, while the other was taken up by shelves of potions. The second room the main office, where Muarim’s torso was laid out across his desk.

  The scene was as it had been in the Dean’s room, remade to scale. Muarim’s office was obviously smaller and less luxurious, but it had the essentials. A desk, some lab equipment, and a single shelf of notebooks. There was a shelf filled with small pots, with a single flower in each. Either samples for testing or displays for the more discerning customers. Unlike The Dean’s office, no one had thought to give him the dignity of a final cleaning. Muarim’s office was covered in his own gore.

  “Are we sure this even is him?” Kave asked, as he began casting another spell. Struth had lowered his head in some strange prayer. Komena kept scanning the room.

  “He was the only person who would be here at night.” Komena said. “So, either it’s Muarim or an elaborate set up. Either one is worth looking into.”

  Kave finished the spell, leaving a faint glimmer over all of their clothes and shoes. “Whatever you say Inspector. After you.” He said, gesturing into the room.

  Komena stepped into the stained study, Kave and Struth following a few steps behind. The spell kept the blood from staining their clothes and them from making any traces in the blood. Instead, it gently rippled away, then pooled back to fill their footsteps.

  “Look around for any sign of what he was doing last night.” Komena said as she went to the writing desk. It was a simple, solid thing made from cheap sandstone, with two cabinets on the left and right side. No locks either. She started going through them, finding mostly spare pens, ink bottles and loose pieces of papers. There was also an old shopping list and some sort of knickknack, the kind schools had children make in arts and crafts classes.

  “It looks like he was a researcher as well. I wasn’t aware that was a common hobby for the lay person here.” Struth said peering at the laboratory glassware, most of which were filled with various chemicals. Kave was also checking the room, his eyes absently flitting about.

  “Everyone is always trying to make the next big, new spell for their field. Even if it’s just an herbicide.” Komena answered. “Kave, see if you can find the most recent notes. This research is the only clue we have towards what the Dean’s was.”

  Kave hummed an answer as he scanned the room, eventually focusing on the shelf.

  “Focus, Kave! I know this hard to stomach but if you can’t -” Komena said.

  Kave clapped his hands, sending a shimmering wave through the room. It flew quickly, only meeting resistance at the shelf. The shimmer settled there, vaguely outlining some small, hunched shapes. The outlines became clearer and clearer, until the figures of metal, insect winged apes snapped into visibility. When they realized that they were seen, they both reared up like cats, shrieking and flapping their wings into a blur. In less than a second, the buzz of the wings was a loud roar, and the creatures threw themselves from the shelf and flew out of the building, weaving between the storage shelves with the agility of dragonflies.

  “Imps.” Kave said, frowning in disgust. “Someone summoned Imps to spy on the crime scene.”

  “Excellent work, Kave!” Struth said, grabbing his shoulder into an enthusiastic shake. The boy looked down. Komena saw a smile slicker across his face.

  “I suppose that answers the question of who heard about the murder first.” Komena said. “We’ll need to follow up with them later to see if they found anything before we came. How’d you know they were there?”

  “I’ve got a sense for these things. They teach a class on it.” Kave said. “Should I check over for the notebooks?”

  “No, you take a look at what he was working at over there.” Komena said, pointing at the table with the lab equipment as she closed the desk drawers. “I’ll look at the notes.”

  There were twenty books, organized by date and going back for years. They weren’t sealed shut like the Dean’s diary had been, but sections were written in a code of some kind. It seemed that Muarim switched to the code when he had a break though and for the final formulas. Each page of each notebook, cover to cover, was densely covered in writing. Unfortunately, the most recent entry was months old. There was space on the shelf for more books, lightly scorched in places.

  “The damn thing stole the research again.” Komena said, slamming the book she had been reading closed and practically tossing it back on the shelf. It bounced off and tumbled towards the carnage-soaked floor. A still twitchy Kave lunged out and caught it before it landed. With a sigh, Komena looked around the room again, desperately looking for anything that could give her another lead. She kept hoping to see some hidden compartment in the walls or under a table, ideally full of incriminating documents pointing to the culprit. No such compartment appeared.

  She put the book back in its place, gently this time. A dead end was no reason to ruin the last mementos the man left behind. Not anymore than they’d already been.