Chapter 147. Detective
Kim stared at the now-dark crystal for exactly three seconds before his composure completely disintegrated.
"Our artifacts!" His voice cracked on the second word. "Do you understand what this means? A changeling! In our workshop! Touching our research!"
"Professor—"
"Those prototypes aren't just dangerous, they're catastrophically unstable! What if they try to activate the resonance amplifier? What if they think the mana dispersal orb is some kind of decorative bauble? We could have explosions across the entire archipelago!"
"Would you just—"
"This is my fault!" Kim spun around to face him, eyes wide with panic. "I should have noticed something was wrong with the inventory counts. I should have implemented daily signature verification. I should have—"
Adom pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply.
He'd learned, over their years of working together, that Kim had exactly two emotional settings when faced with a crisis: methodical problem-solving and complete hysteria. There was no middle ground, and attempting to interrupt him during the hysteria phase only made it worse.
So Adom settled back against a workbench and waited.
"—completely compromised our research security and probably violated at least seventeen Imperial regulations about magical artifact containment, and when the Archmage finds out he's going to have us both exiled to some remote island where we'll spend the rest of our lives cataloguing seashells instead of—"
Kim continued his spiral of self-recrimination and catastrophic predictions for another twelve minutes. He covered everything from the immediate danger of unstable artifacts in untrained hands to the broader implications for magical security to his personal failures as a researcher and human being.
Adom checked his pocket watch twice.
"—and Vex is going to kill me when she finds out I've potentially endangered our son's future because I was too incompetent to notice that someone who looked exactly like me was stealing experimental artifacts from under my nose, which means I'll be dead before the Imperial investigators even get here to arrest me for—"
"Are you done?" Adom asked mildly.
Kim stopped mid-sentence and blinked at him. "What?"
"Are you finished with the panic spiral? Because I need to leave."
"Leave?" Kim's voice went up an octave. "Leave? Young Adom, we have a changeling running around with our prototypes! This isn't the time to—"
"This is exactly the time," Adom interrupted. "They don't know what they stole. They're probably trying to sell experimental artifacts to common thieves who think they're buying standard magical equipment."
Kim opened his mouth to start panicking again.
"Which means," Adom continued before Kim could get started, "I need to find them before someone tries to use a mana disruptor as a paperweight and accidentally vaporizes half a city block."
"But how are you going to—"
"I'm going to find the changeling." Adom's tone was matter-of-fact. "They left a trail. Changelings are rare, but they're not invisible."
"Adom, you can't just—"
"Call the Archmage for me, would you? Let him know what we've discovered. He'll want to implement additional security measures while I'm gone."
Adom was already walking toward the entrance before Kim could formulate another objection.
"Adom!"
"Professor," Adom said without turning around, "relax. I'll bring back our stolen property and probably the changeling too, if I can manage it."
He stepped through the wall and back into the sunlight, leaving Kim standing alone among the workbenches with his mouth hanging open.
Adom took a deep breath, tilting his face up toward the sun. The light hit his eyes directly, but he didn't feel any need to squint. His vision remained perfectly clear, the brightness filtering through without discomfort.
When had that started? Probably sometime after Bennu. The phoenix's gift kept revealing itself in small ways that he was only beginning to notice.
"Everything alright, Magus?"
Adom looked down to find the taller guard from earlier approaching, concern evident on his face. The man's hand wasn't near his weapon, but his posture suggested he was ready to move quickly if needed.
"Oh, yeah. I'm alright. Just thinking."
The guard nodded, but didn't retreat. His partner had noticed the exchange and was walking over as well, along with two other guards who had been stationed near the tower's perimeter.
Adom looked around at them, really looked this time. Four guards visible, probably twice that number hidden in various positions around the island. All of them wearing Imperial colors, all of them supposedly vetted by the Empire's security apparatus.
If the changeling had come to the tower and passed these people, there were only two possibilities. Either they had made themselves look like one of the guards, or they were already one of the guards.
But that raised another question. The tower was secret enough that most people shouldn't even know about its existence, much less be able to plan a heist. Someone had to have inside knowledge of what they were doing here and when the tower would be accessible.
Adom smiled at the approaching guards. "I have to go, actually. Something's come up."
"Need an escort to the portal?" the second guard offered.
"No, thanks. I'll be fine."
Adom walked a few steps away from the group and pulled out his communication crystal. He channeled a small amount of mana into it and waited for the connection to establish.
"Professor? It's me."
"Adom? Is everything—"
"Don't let any of the guards leave the island."
There was a pause. "What?"
"The changeling had to get past security to reach the tower. Either they impersonated a guard, or one of the guards is the changeling."
"Oh." Kim's voice went quiet. "Oh, that's not good."
"Ask the Archmage to bring people when he comes. Enough to detain all the security personnel for questioning. Nothing brutal, just standard interrogation procedures."
"Right. Yes. That makes sense." Kim was already shifting into his problem-solving mode. "I'll contact him immediately."
"Good."
Adom closed the connection and pocketed the crystal. He made his way toward the portal platform, already bracing himself for the inevitable nausea that would follow. His stomach was going to hate him for this.
He stepped through the shimmering gateway.
*****
Adom pulled his mage hat low over his face as he walked through the streets of what everyone still called the Dregs, though the name hadn't been accurate for years now.
The transformation had taken time. More time than anyone had expected, honestly. But between Wangara's resources, Valiant's network of contacts, and the Archmage's surprisingly effective political maneuvering, they'd managed to tackle most of the problems that had made this part of Arkhos a place people avoided after dark.
Infrastructure had been the first priority. Clean water, proper sewage systems, roads that didn't turn into swamps when it rained.
Then came the economic initiatives—trade schools, small business loans, connections to legitimate merchant networks. Valiant had insisted on keeping most of the existing businesses, just helping them operate legally instead of in the gray areas that desperation had forced them into.
The crime syndicates had been trickier. You couldn't just arrest your way out of that kind of entrenched power structure. But when people had other options for making a living, and when the local authorities were actually trustworthy instead of corrupt, most of the smaller operations had just faded away on their own.
Now the Dregs looked like what it had always had the potential to be—a working-class neighborhood with character. The buildings were still old, but they were maintained. The streets were still narrow, but they were safe. People still called it the Dregs because that's what it had always been called, and because changing the name would have felt like erasing the history of everyone who had survived here when survival was difficult.
Plus, Valiant had pointed out, keeping the name meant property values stayed reasonable for the people who actually lived here.
Adom was considering where to start his search when a familiar sound interrupted his thoughts.
"Meow."
He looked down and smiled. "Hey, Aristoteles."
Adom crouched down and extended his hand toward the tabby cat, letting a thin thread of mana flow between them to establish the connection. Aristoteles bumped his head against Adom's fingers.
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You look troubled, the cat observed, settling into a regal sitting position. Also, you smell like one of those portal magic things they seem to put all over our territory. Disgusting.
Good to see you too. Adom scratched behind the cat's ears. How's your new family?
My humans are adequate. Aristoteles purred despite his dismissive tone. The small one continues to overfeed me, which shows proper respect. The large ones have learned not to move my food bowl without permission.
Adom laughed. He was never sure if the cats actually understood the power dynamics here, or if they were just naturally so arrogant that they treated everyone like subordinates.
You adopted them, right?
Obviously. They were clearly incapable of surviving without proper supervision. Aristoteles tilted his head. Though I still maintain my territory in the streets. Someone must ensure standards are upheld.
Adom smiled. Actually, you're exactly what I need right now.
Aristoteles's ears perked forward. A job? Involving food compensation?
Definitely involving food compensation.
Proceed.
I need you to gather every cat in the neighborhood. More than the neighborhood, if you can manage it. As many as possible.
Aristoteles's tail twitched with interest. For what purpose?
I need them to answer some questions about what they've seen around the city. Unusual people, strange activities, anything that seemed out of place.
Ah. Aristoteles stood and stretched, extending his claws briefly. Information gathering. We excel at this. The others will be pleased—most of them have been bored lately.
How quickly can you organize it?
Before the sun moves much higher. Aristoteles was already looking toward the alleyways where Adom knew the local cats maintained their informal network. Where shall we convene?
Valiant's place. You know the one.
The large dwelling where the small mouse-person lives? Yes. Aristoteles paused. He still owes me for that incident with the fish vendor.
I'm sure he'll settle his debt.
He had better. Aristoteles padded away a few steps, then looked back over his shoulder. This job—is it dangerous?
Probably not for you. Just observation and reporting.
Good. I have responsibilities now. Aristoteles flicked his tail dismissively. I will gather them quickly, human. Don't keep us waiting.
Adom watched the tabby disappear into the maze of alleys that connected the Dregs like a secondary street system, then straightened and headed toward Valiant's.
The warehouse looked like any other Wangara operation from the outside—neat, well-maintained, with the guild's symbol prominently displayed near the entrance.
Which was exactly the point.
Anyone investigating would find legitimate shipping records, proper tax documentation, and a roster of employees who could account for their activities.
What they wouldn't find was the secondary office space on the upper floor, or the communication crystals that stayed in contact with operatives across the Empire and beyond. Adom had built his information network carefully over the years, placing people in strategic positions where they could watch for any mention of dragon's breath or unusual magical research.
He'd also tasked them with keeping an eye out for reports about a woman with dark hair and blue eyes who seemed to be recruiting warriors wherever she went.
The descriptions were always vague, but the timing had been too consistent to ignore. Morgana would send him a letter from some distant city, full of her usual stories about local food and customs and whatever interesting magic she'd encountered.
Then, weeks later, his agents would report strange happenings in that same location—skilled fighters disappearing, mercenary companies forming overnight, whispers about someone gathering people for an unknown cause.
She'd stopped writing a year ago. No more letters appearing on his desk with her familiar handwriting, always from a different place, always after she'd already moved on. The reports about the mysterious recruiter had stopped too.
Ahh, not again...
He shook his head. Morgana had made her choice when she stopped sending letters. Maybe she was fine and just wanted to be left alone. Maybe something had happened to her. Either way, dwelling on it wasn't going to help anyone.
Adom pushed through the warehouse's main entrance and was immediately greeted by a chorus of voices.
"Morning, boss!"
"Adom! Good to see you."
"How did the mission in the north go?"
He waved at the various workers and agents scattered throughout the space, most of whom were maintaining their cover identities as dock workers and shipping clerks. A few were genuinely dock workers and shipping clerks who had proven useful enough to bring into the fold.
"Where's Valiant?" he asked.
"Upstairs in his office," called Maya, one of the newer recruits. "He's with Thorgen."
Adom nodded and headed for the stairs.
He knocked on the office door and heard Valiant's muffled voice telling him to enter. He pushed the door open and immediately stopped short.
Valiant sat in an oversized chair behind his desk, which made him look even smaller than usual. The chair had been turned to face away from the door, and all Adom could see was the back of it. Thorgen stood beside the desk like some kind of enormous, one-armed bodyguard, his expression carefully neutral.
Adom rolled his eyes. "What are you doing?"
The chair slowly swiveled around to reveal Valiant in what appeared to be his most serious expression, which wasn't very serious at all. "Ah, Adom. You come to me on this day asking for favors. But first, you must kiss the ring." Valiant held up his hand, wiggling his fingers.
Adom raised an eyebrow and looked at Thorgen. "Why are you even in on this? I thought you were supposed to be the brain here."
Thorgen sighed deeply, the kind of sigh that suggested he'd been asking himself the same question. "We made a bet."
"A bet."
"Yeah." Thorgen's voice was flat. "I lost. Had to act like his servant for the week."
"The ring!" Valiant insisted, still waving his hand around.
"Stop it," Adom said. "I need your services."
Valiant's theatrical expression immediately dropped. "Seriously? Like, actual work stuff?"
"Man, you never just come to say hi anymore," Valiant said, hopping down from the chair. Small sparks of electricity danced around his fingers as he stretched. "I was worried about you when you went north and here you are just showing up asking for services—"
"It's not a service," Adom interrupted. "You work for me."
"Oh. Right. Yeah, that's true." Valiant paused for exactly half a second before launching into his next thought. "But still, you could visit just to hang out sometimes, you know? Is this about the dragon's breath thing? Because I've been monitoring all the channels and there's weird chatter from the eastern provinces but nothing concrete yet and also Maya thinks she spotted one of those Thymalian operatives near the docks yesterday but she wasn't sure and we should probably increase patrols around the communication crystals because—"
"Valiant," Adom interrupted.
"Right, sorry." Small sparks continued dancing around Valiant's fingers. "So what do you need?"
"I need to capture a changeling."
"Those things exist?" Valiant's eyes went wide. The sparks around his fingers flickered faster.
"One of them stole my research materials," Adom said. "Along with some other items that shouldn't be in circulation. I need you to gather information on any new magical artifacts that have appeared on the market recently. Anything unusual or powerful."
Thorgen shrugged. "The black market always has new things floating around. Most of it's junk, but there's always someone trying to sell something they shouldn't have."
"These particular items are dangerous," Adom said. "They could cause serious problems in the wrong hands."
Before anyone could respond, they heard meowing from downstairs. A lot of meowing.
"Well," Adom said, "that was fast."
The three of them headed back down to the warehouse floor, where chaos was beginning to unfold. Cats were streaming through the open door. Not a few cats. Not even a dozen cats. Approximately fifty cats of various sizes, colors, and levels of indignation.
Where is he? one tabby complained as Adom tapped into his druidic abilities.
The mage owes us food, declared a black cat with white paws.
I walked a lot, grumbled an orange tom. My paws hurt.
The warehouse workers stood frozen, watching the feline invasion with expressions ranging from bewilderment to mild panic. Maya had climbed onto a crate. One of the dock workers was holding a clipboard like it might protect him.
Adom got down on one knee. "Alright, everyone, calm down."
The cats immediately swarmed toward him, a furry tide of meows and purrs and demands for attention. He held up his hands.
I know you're hungry. We'll get to that. But first, have any of you seen or heard about a form changer? Or maybe some new magical artifacts appearing around the city?
Most of the responses were variations of No mixed with When do we eat? But in the middle of the chaos, Adom heard a quiet voice say, I...I did.
He looked around and spotted the source among the cats. A stray dog, small and timid, hovering at the edge of the group.
Several cats turned to hiss at the dog. Go away! This is cat business!
You don't belong here!
Stop following us!
To the dog, it probably just sounded like angry hissing. The poor thing flinched and took a step back.
Adom held out his hand toward the dog. "It's okay. Come here."
The dog hesitated, looking between Adom's outstretched hand and the wall of irritated cats. It was a scraggly little thing, probably part sunhound, with golden fur and ribs showing through its sides.
He doesn't understand us anyway, one of the cats said dismissively. Dogs are stupid.
Make him leave, demanded another. This is important cat work.
Adom kept his hand extended and his voice gentle. "I can hear you too, you know. What did you see?"
The dog's ears perked up in surprise. It took a tentative step forward, then another. The cats continued their chorus of disapproval, but they moved aside just enough to let the dog approach.
There was a person, the dog said quietly. But they smelled wrong. Like... like many people at once.
Several of the cats stopped hissing to listen, even they seemed intrigued by Adom's sudden attention to the mutt.
"Where did you see them?" Adom asked.
Near the old fishmonger's place. Three days ago. They were talking to the one-eyed man who sells shiny things.
Adom's attention sharpened.
The one-eyed man could only be Keras, a fence who specialized in magical items of questionable origin. If a changeling was trying to sell stolen artifacts, Keras would be exactly the type of person they'd approach.
"What's it saying?" Valiant asked, craning his neck to get a better look at the dog. Several warehouse workers had gathered around to watch the spectacle, too.
"He saw someone three days ago near Keras's shop," Adom said. "Someone who smelled wrong."
Thorgen raised an eyebrow. "Dogs can smell changelings?"
"Apparently this one can."
I saw that too, one of the cats suddenly spoke up. A sleek gray female pushed her way to the front of the group. The person-who-smelled-wrong. They had a bag full of things that hummed with magic.
The cats around her started chattering excitedly, though none of them could understand what had prompted this outburst. To them, it probably just looked like she was randomly joining the conversation.
"Did you see what happened to the bag?" Adom asked the cat.
The shiny-things man took it inside his shop. But then there was shouting. The person-who-smelled-wrong left very quickly.
Maya had climbed down from her crate and was standing with the other workers, all of them watching Adom have what appeared to be a very animated conversation with various animals. "Boss," she called out, "should we be taking notes or something?"
"Keras probably tried to cheat them," Thorgen said. "He's got a reputation for lowballing people who don't know what they're carrying."
"Which means the changeling still has the artifacts," Adom said. He looked back at the dog. Did you see where they went?
The dog shook its head. They moved too fast. But... It paused, as if unsure whether to continue.
"It's alright. What else?"
I followed their scent for a while. It led toward the harbor district. But then it just... stopped. Like they became someone else entirely.
"Did you follow them there?" Adom asked.
No, the dog said, ears drooping slightly. I was too scared. But I remember the scent.
"Could you find it again if we went to the harbor district?"
The dog's tail gave a tentative wag. Yes. I think so.
Valiant had been unusually quiet, but now he spoke up. "If they're changing forms regularly, traditional tracking won't work. But there might be another way."
He was practically vibrating with excitement again, sparks dancing around his whiskers. "We're actually going to hunt a changeling! I mean, I didn't even know they existed an hour ago and now we get to track one down!"
"That would require knowing where to look," Adom pointed out.
Aristoteles had apparently just arrived and was looking somewhat displeased to find a dog in the middle of his carefully organized gathering. The harbor district has many hiding places, he offered. But we know all of them.
The other cats meowed in agreement.
Adom smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that."
He stood up and looked around at the warehouse workers who had gathered to watch the spectacle. "Maya, I need you to organize a search team. Five people, light weapons, tracking equipment. Thorgen, contact your sources in the harbor district—anyone who might have seen unusual activity in the last few days."
"On it," Maya said, already moving toward the equipment lockers.
"Valiant, bring whatever detection artifacts you have for magical signatures. We're going hunting."
Adom reached down and gently patted the dog's head. The little mutt's tail started wagging furiously, its whole body wiggling with excitement.
Several cats immediately started hissing in displeasure.
Why is he rewarding the stupid dog?
This is very unfair.
We found information too!
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