Sometime later, the group reached Dawnshire. Thinning trees gave away the town’s location with stumps acting like a growing welch in the forest's heart. The trees seemed to loom over everything; tall sapling-like ferns and dense flora made it near impossible to see more than ten feet into the sprawling bush. Pine trees stuck like needles out of a hedgehog’s back as branches coalesced into an almost impenetrable canopy that shielded them from the road above. It seemed dead, docile in a perpetuity yet forever preserved in a state of bustling green.

  Dawnshire was a simple settlement, populated for a single reason, the road ran quite literally through it. It was a circular town nestled in muddied hills with logging and crop fields surrounding a sprawling network of houses. The entire settlement was surrounded by an eleven-foot log wall with ramparts and a loose guard perched like hawks on the mouldy wood. They had never seen action but the very least it made it easier for a small garrison to defend. A few townhouses and a sparse mage-tower could be seen on the skyline. After a quick show of their passes and Aloat shaking the hand of an enthusiastic Captain the small troop made their way down the winding streets. The roads were paved with mulchy gravel and a steady stream of merchants, peasants and traders seemed to be stalking up on water and supplies. Logging shipments and mineral caravans took up most of the industrialized zone with Jan even noticing a group of imperial tree harvesting mages bickering with loggers over what plot of land to pillage next. There were even some treehouses perched along the sidelines, a style of living unique to their people.

  While the town itself offered a beacon of civilization with its brick buildings, small plazas and unique curved architecture the surrounding forest was an all too inhospitable splat of death-defying flora. Kag rangers were known to cull the larger creatures while young. As a child Jan had heard horror stories of logging crews who lost their maps in rain or accidental fires only to spend weeks walking in circles to die of starvation near meters from the beaten path. Most recently, an imperial patrol had lost their guiding ranger to a heart attack during an expedition, only to have to spend two weeks climbing trees in the hopes of spotting Dawnshire’s spiralling towers and a direction home. Eventually they made it back, having to survive off eating roots, game and Grownsprout, but only after ten had been lost to the wilds. The heat got three of them, thirst another two and the rest were eaten alive. Lesser sentient beings like spear-wielding rat-lings, trolls, silta-bears and wadsworth could be violent if provoked, let alone the bears and killer plants.

  Laura leaned back on her horse to wave to passing children and caught her eye on the town’s core. It had grand, windowed cathedrals, an obelisk-like garrison and a series of parliamentary quarters that seemed to be carved from the finest wood and stone that could be bought. Even Aloat was somewhat impressed. It wasn’t often that you could find such magnificent arches and gilded gargoyles outside of Kag. A few guards waved to them as they passed. At first, it confused Jan how they would recognize Aloat so quickly until he caught a glance of a merchant reading a copy of the Sam Herald. Directly under an article titled Imperial Changeling Reports was a sight that caused his stomach to twist.

  Local Kag Hero To Crack Dawnshire Case, Faith in Public Service Restored

  In a conversation with………public enemy number one, controversial Consul For The Archmage Jan Theric to assist……………Dawnshire mystery still at large………….

  Jan squinted to make out the letters with his tired eyes. Sometimes he forgot carrier pigeons, and magic transport allowed the written word to travel faster than word of mouth. He was about to slow down and ask to buy the copy when Aloat fell back and started talking.

  “Laura, did you pack the dye?”

  Dye, what were they talking about?

  “Yup, right here,” She tossed a thin vial to Aloat.

  “Now, if I’m correct Jan, you weren’t briefed about the Dawnshire mystery fully? What do you know, only what’s written in the paper?” Aloat asked.

  He nodded slowly. They must have talked about it while he was asleep.

  “Imperial convoys ride directly outside Dawnshire, and get their payroll stolen somewhere between twelve and six hundred feet from the nearest Inn. No one knows how, but four out of the last fourteen shipments have been intercepted; the convoy themselves are not attacked except on several occasions, those in the carriage with the shipment itself have been maimed or killed”.

  Aloat nodded for a moment. She was impressed by how much intel he had gathered, but she tried not to show it.

  “A little bit of rumour in there, but not bad, Kiff, give him the initial report.”

  In an instant, a fresh scroll was tossed into Jan’s waiting arms.

  A Brief Summary of The Dawnshire Bandit For Sheriff Aloat Barka

  Crime: Grand Theft, Assault on Guard, Sixteen Counts of Murder, Conspiracy

  Charge: Death by Imperial Court

  Return Subjects Alive if Possible

  Recover Lost Goods if Possible

  Last Updated September 7th, 6213

  Authored: Paxter Garvey

  Witnessed: Martin Brewn

  —----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Contents and Shipments Stolen:

  September 5th: Contents were 350,067 quands worth of gold, twelve longswords, and sixty pounds of rations. Convoy of a thousand, eight guards killed, one left sleeping, contents vanished without a trace, gravel and dirt were found on the carriage roof. No footprints aside from imperial.

  September 1st: Contents were 150,030 quands worth of gold, silver and assorted taxes. Convoy of two hundred. No exterior guards were wounded. Inside the carriage, one sleeping guard, one sleeping mage with the rest killed by attackers. Traces of dirt and gravel on the carriage roof. No footprints aside from imperial. Killed by mele.

  August 27th: Contents were 76,230 quands worth of assorted taxes and imperial gold, sixteen kilos of arrows. Hissing was heard from the driver, cited to be non-traditional speak, but did not inspect the carriage upon hearing. All guards except one dead, guard was sleeping. Killed by mele, no hint of magic. Fine dust on the carriage ceiling.

  August 25th 280,040 quands worth of silver bars and an additional sixteen artifacts for Kag registry. Convoy of six hundred, contents vanished without trace. All eight guards inside sleeping.

  “What, that’s it?” Laura said while taking the page out of Jan’s hands. She flipped to the back to find nothing but empty space.

  “Is it likely there’s some type of sleeping potion involved, Commander?” Sill whispered.

  Jan’s stomach wrenched. Those were imperial mages getting butchered like common swine. It must have been a close-quarters slaughter.

  “This isn’t much to go off at all. The only real clue seems to be the dirt on the ceiling and sleeping guards,” Laura added.

  She inspected the paper again with dilated eyes. Her lips almost contorted into a smile as she read with her thumbs pressed against the scratchy parchment. Jan could tell Laura could never step aside from a good mystery.

  “There has to be something we're missing, right now it seems like no one entered or exited the carriages, this is an impossible problem,” Laura mused.

  For a second, she continued to inspect the scroll.

  “What’s the difference between these convoys and the ones that made it across safely?” Laura asked.

  Aloat pursed her mouth before speaking.

  “Those used an enchanted strongbox, no guards inside, only outside with a reinforced interior. Irwain has ordered all transport to take place with them from now on, but the logistics are too much to handle.”

  Laura nodded.

  “A group led by Lieutenant Paxter and thirty soldiers started a few days ago. They are camped at the Plunky Duck Inn, it’s only a few hundred meters from where the reports are stolen, I booked us rooms there for tonight,” Aloat added.

  “What, someone else is already here?” Laura asked in surprise.

  It was clear she wanted to get the reward money and not have to stand in the back of some half-worn victory portrait. However, Jan had to admit a small army did make him feel a little safer.

  “Relax Paxter is an idiot. He likely got lost on his way here and ended up back in a pub in Kag. As for his lackeys, they’ll make good grunts for when we arrive,” Aloat muttered.

  “Why didn’t he meet us in Dawnshire? Doesn’t that make more sense?” Jan asked slowly.

  “He was supposed to,” Kiff said with a grim tone.

  A tinge of fear trickled down Jan’s spine. Laura also gave a suspicious glance. She sat up straight on her horse and raised the parchment towards the sunlight to get a better look.

  “The Captain I spoke to said they heard word from one of his riders yesterday, telling us they were caught up in something and needed their full force. He told us to wait for a messenger at the Plunky Duck.” Aloat spoke.

  “That doesn’t sound great,” Laura responded.

  “No, it does not. Looks like you two may actually get to use a sword.” Aloat grimaced.

  Silence followed.

  With that, the four rode through the other half of Dawnshire, only stopping for a moment to refill their water and speak briefly with another town guard before emerging on the other side and making their way to the site of disappearance.

  An hour passed before they reached the Plunky Duck, still no sign of Paxter or the others.

  Aloat’s head had been on a swivel since the moment they reached the treeline. Jan and Laura were also on edge. The forest seemed even more surreal in these lush parts. It’s murky undergrowth almost glistened in the noonday sun as it waited and watched among the proud oaks. Thick brush and fallen logs pattered on the forest floor. Great oaks and groves, undisturbed and enduring since the dawn of the first tree's growth. Jan couldn't help but think all it would take was twenty or thirty steps into the brush to mark their claim as the first humans to ever traverse these parts. The quiet leaked into almost every thought. It was unnatural stillness that felt like eyes glistening in the dark, clutching onto the parties' every whisper as it lurked in the shadows. Something was different, off, from the way the grass letched towards the pitch black bark to the absence of birds circling the ash coloured trees.

  The Plunky Duck did alleviate some stress. It looked like a reputable establishment. A customer or two stood next to empty horses as bales of straw sat tucked against a wood-cutter and his logs along with a pen of sheep. The Inn itself seemed sizable. Maybe twenty or thirty rooms between the two floors with a thatched roof and dirty glass windows overlooking the sunny road.

  “Remember, the site should be within viewing distance of the Inn,” She spoke quietly.

  Aloat dismounted and began inspecting a nearby field, almost pushing over a merchant as she trodded over what looked like the remains of Paxter’s camp. The charcoaled remnants of campfires were scattered across the rolling field with the usual amount of discarded food and broken equipment littering the ground. She bent over and put her fingers into the ash, twisting it around as she spoke.

  “What do you think, Kiff, a day? Two?”

  “Definitely more than two days, but with the right weather, anything is possible. We can’t be sure,” He responded as he squelched a burnt stick with his boot.

  Aloat used magic to cause flames to lick her fingers. She tested the stick and nodded before turning, not revealing anything to the rest of the team.

  “Jan, grab my bags. I didn’t realize Laura was coming, so she’ll take your room. Luckily, there are some discount servant’s quarters I think you can afford.”

  Her eyes drifted towards a latrine-like structure that almost screamed grime, hay and a healthy dose of whatever arachnids decided to hold the scribe's hand in the middle of the night.

  “No need, Jan can bunk with me,” Kiff said suddenly.

  His heart tinged with a little warmth as he cast a glance at the red-haired soldier. It was a kind gesture he wouldn’t forget. Jan's sleep-deprived eyes almost called out in thanks before Aloat let out a scoff, directing him to pick up her luggage.

  Suddenly, something moved in the woods.

  A merchant almost jumped as the trees ahead seemed to part for a moment. Their branches shook like tumbleweed as handfuls of leaves spurted towards the clouds. Whatever it was, it was big. Aloat drew her sword, fire burning in one hand as the other raised to shield Laura from whatever creature emerged. Kiff did the same, with his bow posed and ready, while Jan stood clutching Aloat's ten-pound mirror and imported produce for dear life.

  “Relax youn’uns, it's a mudslide, there's a lot of old pits near these hills from the mining days,” A voice called out from behind.

  It was gruff but comforting, with an almost gravel-like texture splitting from their tongue. The man behind them was old with grey hair, complemented by wrinkled skin and kind eyes. He was almost seven feet tall, and with his age, it was fair to assume he must have been enormous in his youth. An apron and worn clothes made up his appearance.

  “I'm Oldsgood, I assume you must be that new Sheriff and her retinue? You're late, Paxter and his crew left yesterday, but I have the rooms booked for you.”

  “Yes, that would be me,” She responded.

  “Say are you not famous in these parts?” the old man continued. He rubbed his hands on his shirt as he leaned forward to grab her first bag.

  Aloat smiled at this, giving a quick response.

  “As I deserve to be.”

  Embarrassment slinked over Laura’s face as they dumped their belongings from the horses' packs. Maple almost bounded when the weight was lifted, a near seventy pounds relieved from her back.

  "So you say Paxter left yesterday?" Aloat inquired.

  "Yes, that's what I said, you paid in advance, correct?" Oldsgood added in a lazed manner.

  The two soldiers looked at each other to confirm their suspicions about the inkeeper's response.

  “Great, Jan assist him in taking our things to the rooms, then grab Laura and interview the woodcutter. If we split up, we can gather more clues. The first disappearance happened just above that hill!” Aloat muttered enthusiastically.

  “What we just arrived?” Laura spouted in exhaustion.

  “Exactly! What do you think were on vacation? Going to spend the entire day in the hotel? I’ve got you here for a reason!” Aloat spoke quickly, running towards the trees.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  The Innkeeper looked at them sympathetically before turning to head inside.

  After failing to explain to Oldsgood why they needed a full-sized mirror, a trophy collection and enough stationery to found a minor publication house, Jan made his way downstairs to find Laura waiting nearby. The man even gave him a fresh waterskin, which the young scribe swung over his pack. Oldsgood had unpacked their belongings, placing their extra swords on the bottom of a large wardrobe and the rest of their provisions on top.

  “Ready?”

  “Yes Commanders, relax, I am trained in over sixty forms of intimidation! We’ll crack this case!” Sill screamed.

  “That’s the spirit, Sill,” Laura muttered enthusiastically.

  Sleep still clung to Jan’s eyes while he tried to stifle the rock’s voice with parchment.

  —------------------------------------- Interview One —--------------------------------

  The Woodcutter:

  An axe thumped against the rotten stump. Moss hissed back as the rusted blade seemed to chip off.

  “So you were here during the first and second disappearances, correct?” Laura asked calmly.

  “Thad’s right, I was ere for the entire momen, the conve stopped and all.” A thick accent matted the man’s speech.

  “Did you see anything? Did you happen to catch a glance at the storage compartment?”

  “Ya I did! And I’ll tell ya what I saw if yu give me three quand, I ain’t speaking any more!”

  “Thymolibuine or Compound X1876!! A quick injection should make him tell the truth!! Works on the traitors, it’ll work on these Jannics!! Commanders, we can make some from titrating tree sap and fungal oil!!” Sill whispered in a voice only they could hear.

  One thing is certain: they would be ignoring the rock’s suggestion. She cast a glance at Jan, who suddenly pretended to have empty pockets before forking over her own change.

  “I caught a glance at the storage component, righ befor it all happen I tell ya, spent the whole day watching I tell ya, Nothing! I ain’t saw nothing!” the woodcutter replied.

  Laura facepalmed.

  —--------------------------------------Interview Two —- —-----------------------------------

  The Peasant? The farmer? Unidentified human:

  A scruffy-looking peasant sat on the side of the road, waiving a flagon of mead as the two passed through.

  “The Dawnshire mystery? What do you know about it?” Laura asked with an inquisitive glance.

  “We're wasting our time with this one, Commanders!” Sill spoke before they even started.

  “They came from the ground, I tell you!! The horses whispered it too me!! They told me the dark arts I tell you! It was a conspiracy!! Heuristics, vagabonds, rapscallions!! Muandishushu quashiconquo, I ere lamin anuo moijun fraliiuna!!”

  He then paused.

  “That being said, I did hear something being thrown, like a large boulder?”

  He stood up for a moment with his hands posed like some spell, only for nothing to happen and for him to fall flat into a face full of mud.

  The man flailed his arms again as the two left in a hurry.

  --------------------------------------Interview Three —------------------------------

  The Merchant:

  A mosquito buzzed around Jan’s head. Laura had a pen and parchment in hand as they continued to search for their next victim. Their eyes caught on a caravan of merchants who were just preparing to leave. Ore glistened between the frail wooden boards of the wagons. Iron, copper and tin likely being transported to Dawnshire from the scattered quarries that littered the forest’s backside.

  “Commanders, Can I take this one? I am an expert in forensic deduction, cognitive neuroscience and behavioural detectionism!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Sill pipped up.

  Laura cast a glance at Jan, who shrugged. They had already struck out twice and the thought of the rock helping wasn’t that far-fetched. Sill's use of verbose words and strange terms like neuroscience certainly aided its persuasion.

  “Great, I am so excited Commanders!! Just repeat what I say word for word, subsection 1283 of the deduction handbook says to start simple!!!”

  Laura could already tell they were going to regret this.

  “You said we’re starting simple Sill?”

  “Yes, Commander Laura! Now I want you to repeat exactly what I say, word for word. Let’s approach the first merchant, that one there, analysis reports tryptophan in his system, which converts to serotonin and melatonin! He’ll be sleeeeeeepy!!!”

  The two approached the cart in sync. The man lumbered while he threw a crate of rocks onto the back. He and six other associates were hurriedly loading the carriage as they tried to leave. Caving was all too profitable a venture in these parts, with many short mining expeditions able to pull fast profits.

  “Commanders, remember, hide those imperial pins and repeat after me! Laura, you go first since your DNA is disguised as a Jannic. I have calculated a 99% fool-proof method!”

  Laura swallowed as she approached the first merchant.

  “Hello, uh oh dear god no….. Sorry…Hello, I am but a non-threatening Jannic named Laura who was recently lost in these woods after picking Munibald mushrooms for… my sister’s brother’s wedding?”

  She winced as she spoke. Jan burst out laughing.

  “Are you talking to me?” The first merchant turned, confused.

  “Heart rate elevated 120 bpm!!!! He’s lying!!!! Quick Jan, jab him with the Thymolibuine.”

  “Sill, we barely started!”

  “Sorry Commander, I forgot, Not now, it’s too late, shake hands! Wait, Jannic’s don’t shake hands!!! We’ll adapt quickly, do as I say!”

  Laura swallowed. She was somehow still following Sill’s instructions.

  “Heeeyyy yes, I am talking to you!” She squealed in a half wheeze.

  “Good emphasis! Arms up, Commander! Just like training, think back to Liuan Prime. A single sabatour was able to deactivate autodocks for half the _____ fleet, killed twelve million in a single swoop! lean against the carriage, elbow to the right!” Sill commented in the background.

  “Mushrooms for your brother’s sister's wedding?”

  “Yes, he’s a really fungi”

  The man stared blankly.

  “This is my cousin Jan, he also was picking mushrooms but for his uncle’s mothers’s funeral,....nasty…nasty business?” She paused for a moment as Sill’s words entered her mouth.

  “Commander Jan, Laura is doing great now, repeat after me!”

  Oh dear god.

  “Yes, I too lost my dear grandmama to the flames of hate”.

  “No Commander No!! Don’t walk that way!! Why are we going into the forest, Commanders?! Commanders, why are we leaving the witness?!”

  —--------------------------------------Interview Four —------------------------------

  Oldsgood:

  Aloat leaned towards the bar, her hand around a drink as she stared into Oldsgood’s face. The water was cool and refreshing as she took another sip. He looked old, really old; the man was just a giant wrinkle. She drained the glass and instantly ordered another with a smile on her lips. The bar was nice and likely had taken a culmination of years and generations to upkeep. She made note of what looked to be newly purchased chairs and bookshelves lining the walls. A healthy collection of travel guides and maps appeared to be available for purchase along with various souvenirs and adventuring essentials.

  “Long day, huh?” She asked.

  “Yeah, you could say that,” Oldsgood replied.

  “Strange, but I was wondering if this bar has always been like this quiet, I mean?”

  “No… it wasn’t, used to be alot more popular before the Dawnshire case.” He cut the conversation short. He wasn’t giving much room for improvisation.

  Aloat scrunched her face. Usually, her fame was enough to get anyone talking.

  “Yeah, so many you must have had to use the basement rooms, I imagine?”

  It was a tough segway, but if they were going to dance around the truth, she would make him squirm. He didn’t respond. She leaned back and let her sword dangle towards the floor. Its sheath swayed. She purposely angled it upwards to make the hilt flash in the inkeeper's eyes.

  "So did Paxter tell you anything before he left?"

  "No, not really, he was barely here for a day or two. I keep to myself for the most part. Did ask me about the Dawnshire case and I told him all I know. Best be asking my patrons if you want any rumours."

  He leaned forward, and Aloat let out a further slew of questions. Apart from confirming the average bundle of facts strung within the thin words of the Sam Herald, little to no useful information was received.

  “Strange to think how many valuables got stolen in that Dawnshire care, and the imperium is none the wiser,” Aloat added.

  "Well, that's why we have you folks at the imperium, no doubt. We'll catch these fools in an instant," the inkeeper responded.

  He really wasn’t biting. Oldsgood's expression acknowledged the thin-veiled threat of the sword but seemed indifferent. Regardless, she only needed him to slip up once.

  “500,000 quands is alot of money, eh?” She added shortly.

  Aloat watched his eyes as she spoke and tried to mimic his northern accent. It was a little trick she picked up from Dworkish gambling dens, how to accurately gauge an expression. His pupils shifted to the center on a metal trapdoor placed on the floor. Sometimes, manipulation was a little too easy. She would have to get that open later. Still, there was a reason the inkeeper lied about Paxter's whereabouts. The fires showed he left way more than a day before. Aloat edged forward in her seat.

  “Look, I told you all I know. Are you here for a reason?” Oldsgood replied gruffly.

  The man loomed over the bar. He seemed more distraught, but kept his cool.

  “No, not at all, but do tell me, Dawnshire is notoriously muddy. Is there a reason why you have a basement in general? Wouldn’t it have been a hassle to dig?”

  He looked towards a map on the foremost wall. Oldsgood was trying to hide it, but his eyes flickered too fast. It must be instinctive. Then a caving lantern. That wasn’t good. She glanced at the map’s frayed edges, too, in an attempt to see if he would shift his gaze. It seemed to be a simple drawing of Dawnshire with shaded sketches for the pits, quarries and clustered woods that was painted on cheap canvas. It could have been a family heirloom passed down over the years, but the brushstrokes were too automated and inorganic not to be magic.

  “Oh well, sorry to trouble you, barkeep, I best be off.”

  Aloat dangled her feet with a smile on her lips.

  -------------------------------------- break --------------------------------------------------

  The four were on the farthest hill in order to inspect the site of the disappearance. Kiff grumbled in exhaustion as they began to spread dye from the vial Aloat referenced earlier. It flaked away in the crisp morning wind, blending into the gravel road.

  “It’s a simple concept, really. Imperial robes are cheap; however, they are stained with a combination of magic and lichen or cochineal beetles.”

  “And how does that help?” Jan asked.

  “It helps, useless, because one of the latest shipments was a trap,” Aloat stated.

  The three gave her a blank stare.

  “Look, we knew they were going to steal something; we just didn’t know when. What’s not good is that those eight guards who died were special forces and some of Longsa’s best trained in all of the imperium”.

  Their faces grew paler.

  “Relax, every troop these days is best in the imperium. You should read imperial census records, the whole world is a hyperbole,” Aloat added.

  It didn’t seem to calm their nerves.

  “Anyway, what Aloat is trying to say is we tainted half the coins, swords and rations in choomasie blue. It should react with this imperial dye and produce a purpleish tinge. Choomasie blue is ridiculously reactive, so even the faintest particle will leave a result,” Kiff responded.

  Laura nodded. It was simple but effective.

  "Wouldn't Paxter have found this?" Jan asked.

  "We may have omitted a few details in our last report," Aloat coughed.

  She flicked her wrist and had some of the dust spill out to change colour. It seemed to shimmer amongst the rock and grainy dirt towards an almost exuberant glow.

  “Perfect, follow it! Follow it!”

  The reacted dye zig-zagged and twirled in a mushy clump to form an almost ant-like line crawl towards their final destination. Back hunched and crawling on all fours, they continued to trace it with Laura using magic to send out wisps of wind that spread more particles in a fanning pattern. At least they reached a giant sploch dabbed into the middle of the road. It was close to the mid-line with pot-holes and scattered stones making up the surroundings.

  “Just as I suspected,” Aloat said firmly.

  “What?” Jan asked in a concerned voice.

  “Cave,” Sill and Aloat said in unison.

  “Commander, it seems the evil jannic has uncovered some kind of subterranean chasm. My scanners and memory are damaged, so it’s hard for me to pull surface data, but I can try, it looks like….”

  Sill had almost mastered whispering at this point, but Jan could still swear Aloat’s ears perked up at his speech.

  “We’re likely going to need to activate some kind of switch, I imagine it will be found hidden on either the tree-line or in the inn itself,” She grunted.

  The three faced the inn’s faded structure only for her to cry out again. Laura was about to hand Jan a shovel from their kit when the Sheriff stopped in her tracks. They looked at eachother with a perplexed expression.

  “Relax, it’s not that complicated, just concentrate wind-magic on the ground and we can force it open.”

  In seconds, the four closed their eyes for a howling wind blast to slam against the ground. A miniature dirt tornado almost formed from the torrential current of hot wind that licked the trees above.

  The ground clicked.

  It gave way in a shove, thin granular rocks and mud spiralling downwards like a tiny waterful into the chamber below. Surprisingly, a decent amount of mud kicked back to hit them in the face. Laura nodded. That explained the dirt on the caravan roof. Sunlight trickled over a sandy compartment with wooden floorboards and a rough cave exterior. A strong wind whistled from the underground to brush their faces and cause Jan’s hair to flick upwards.

  Tunnels with shallow entrances flowed into pitch black as they encircled a group of half-unpacked imperial crates and boxes.

  It was still here

  Kiff was the first to jump in. The hole went almost up his nose and was roughly three meters wide. There was no light source, but a burnt-out lantern stood on the wall. Laura inspected the mechanism to find a geared door tethered to spindly ropes that looked like they led towards the inn. There was a labyrinth of caves and spotty holes lining the jagged walls, with Kiff hesitant to turn his back towards the shadows.

  He slid the first lid off to find imperial coins staring back. At least a hundred thousand imprints of the Emperor’s face blurred into focus, newly minted gold bars, chalices and ingots almost glowing against the crate’s wooden boards. A few seemed to be re-packed strangely with swords on the bottom, followed by bundles of arrows and coins on top.

  “Dear god, it’s still here.” Laura’s mouth gaped.

  “That must be at least five hundred thousand….” Jan contributed.

  Kiff ran his hands through the contents. He took a handful of the quands and let them slowly slip between his fingers like raindrops in an endless sea. The currency that ran like lifeblood through the imperial kingdom seemed so simple in its docile form. Lives had been traded, countries raised, and morals stained for a splinter of the wealth that taunted their watchful eyes. It glistened and gleamed. Jan had to stop himself from leaping forward to bury his hands amongst the heap of gold.

  “Not all of it, but some,” Aloat smiled.

  She was completely full of herself, leaning against the cave wall before hoisting herself up. That was until her foot slipped on discarded vials on the floor. There must have been twelve bottles half-hazardously tossed in the furthest corner.

  Laura bent over to read the empty potions label. Her entire face morphed into a frown the instant the worlds formed in her view.

  “I don’t understand…..it’s not…..it’s not possible.”

  She mouthed words of shock as her hand seemed to tremble. Her eyes showed a revelation she didn’t want to acknowledge.

  Aloat picked up another vile, handing one to Kiff and Jan. They all read the same thing.

  It was a treatment for the changing.

  Supercharged alchemy made up what few droplets huddled in the vial. A single swig of the potion was said to cause a burning sensation so strong it could make dragons whimper and rocks tear. It also made the parasite curdle. Composed of an ingredient list longer than names lost on the last imperial campaign, the product was extremely volatile, and consumption was both a death wish and a financial wound. A torrent of force would essentially flush the changeling out of a person’s body, causing the leeching ooze to seep from any opening in a desperate attempt to escape the concoction's sting. Afterwards, once it had pooled from a person’s eyes, ears, or mouth, the creature would be burned.

  “I don’t understand….” Aloat let her mind wander.

  “Sleeping?’ Laura responded with a whimper.

  She snatched the scroll from Kiff’s pack and traced the words with her finger, hoping she wasn’t right.

  “Sleeping….there was a guard sleeping in every container.”

  The silence dawned on Laura first, and the others followed.

  “It’s impossible, the parasite doesn’t work like that, how could you get it to do something? It doesn’t have an independent mind, it doesn’t work towards a common goal….those soldiers they would have to have been infected weeks in advance….the planning… they're tested once a month….you don’t understand it’s not possible.” Aloat rambled like a broken clock.

  She had crawled up the road and began eyeing their surroundings in a suspicious fervour. Then she raised her sword, a half-crazed look scanning the others' faces. Kiff ignored her as she started to regain composure and sheathed her blade.

  “So you’re telling me infected guards killed the others and then tossed the contents into this hole before taking the potions and dozing off?” He asked.

  “What changeling would willingly kill themselves? They’re animals; they don’t work together. It’s like a cough giving you directions to kill all tea,” Jan spoke up with a hint of fright in his voice.

  Sill buzzed in agreement. There were too many others around for the rock to talk clearly, but given Crous’s history with changeling reports, it wasn’t a bad idea to hear what the creature had to say.

  “The only way it makes sense is if that’s exactly what happened.. Think about the woodcutter, he said he didn’t see anything because he didn’t see anything. No one entered or left the carriages, and those guards that did kill….” She shuddered.

  “They probably don’t even know it happened.”

  Laura climbed out of the hole too and stared towards the inn.

  “Maybe Oldsgood found a way to control them? It’s the only explanation….what else could possibly explain this?” Aloat mouthed.

  “Wait, wait, this doesn’t make any sense. Wouldn’t the convoy behind have seen them tossing the boxes?” Laura interjected.

  She was pacing now. It was clear she wanted to at least get the details right.

  “They could be infected, too? Across four convoys, this is a matter that should be brought to Irwain directly, let alone the Emperor,” Kiff added.

  It was a truth they barely wanted to acknowledge.

  “I’m confused. How do we know it’s Oldsgood? All he did was live near here,” Jan asked.

  The others looked at him like he was a complete idiot before pointing to a clearly labelled tunnel titled Inn on a scratchy wooden sign, discarded kegs and a handful of chairs that were the same style as the inn.

  “This is over our heads; no one will believe us.” Aloat continued to drabble on, almost ranting to the trees. She groaned before sitting on a tree stump.

  “If we can confront them?” Kiff motioned towards the inn.

  “Oldsgood looked like a wrinkled wart anyway; if anyone was to find out how to control changelings, it could be him.”

  “What if he’s also infected?” Laura inquired.

  The four seemed to think for a moment. Unsure of what to do next.

  “I don’t want to know what happened to Paxter,” Jan muttered.

  The statement reverberated through the group slowly. They needed a moment to take it all in.

  “Wait,” Aloat reached into her belt and took out her own vial. It was the same potion as the ones on the floor below, only full and with a different label. Likely of higher quality, knowing Aloat’s tastes and fiscal attributes.

  “It also could be a fake to throw suspicion off the real bandit,” Laura cited.

  “Unlikely, hold this.”

  Aloat poured a drop on Laura’s hand and then quickly took a dagger from her cloak and sliced the scribe’s palm open. It was a swift movement that happened within the blink of an eye, with Laura shouting out in pain. Then, like a demon possessed, she stared at the blood, almost watching to see if it boiled in the young girl's palm.

  “No burning? Good.”

  The process was repeated with Jan and Kiff. When it came to Jan, the cut she made was a little too deep, but it was easily healed through practical magic. Jan swore Aloat looked like she half-wished he was infected and almost made a tisk sound when nothing happened. Sill buzzed again in appreciation, but the scribe still couldn’t risk talking to him infront of the others, he whispered slowly.

  “Crude but effective test for ____________, sorry Commander it seems my information on this is _____________, zh zh CORRUPTED warning, warning, warning zh zh zh zh zh_________ there is a sizable blocker on _______ biology” The rock glowed.

  Apparently, Sill was brainwashed to not reveal information about changeling reports. If Crous was behind this, then that could be a possible explanation. The monster of a man was capable of many things, and consulting with this plague was one more atrocity that would earn him a tighter noose.

  “What are our options?” Laura inquired.

  She was trying to get them to rally together or at least work out what to do next. They only had four horses after all, and if these creatures had disposed of Paxter, their chances were slim.

  “We either flee, stand here and wait to be killed or arrest Oldsgood and take him to Dawnshire.”

  “The money?”

  “We bury it afterwards, it’ll be a hassle, but if we dig a deep enough grave without being watched, it could take enough time for us to get reinforcements before his accomplices arrive,” Laura responded.

  A cold, calculating demeanour began to float through her eyes. Aloat and Kiff nodded. They stood for a second and let loose quips concerning possible fault, but eventually agreed.

  Jan was about to pick up a crate when she rested a hand on his shoulder.

  “Wait, you need to conserve your energy,” She replied.

  “What?”

  “Oldsgood likely won’t go down without a fight,” Aloat muttered coldly.