The Queen of Blades

I get into work early. There’s been a lot of movement this week, due to spring break, and troublemakers are always trying to start something these days. Most recently, there is a string of warehouse break-ins concerning the higher ups. Not particularly my concern, but I probably should look into the file in any case. Just in case there is something about those warehouses about which I was unaware. Getting out of my car and locking it, I walk around the corner of the building, towards the entrance. Walking in at the same time is one Samuel Booker. Of course they know my schedule. He’s here to see me, of course, though he’ll claim he’s here because one of the people in the drunk tank or in holding is a member of the House of the Chalice. “Mister Booker,” I say as we meet while approaching the front door.

“Mister Vela,” he replies, not even pretending to be surprised by running into me.

“What brings someone as famous as you here today?” I ask.

“Princely, one of our newest sign-ons, vomited on an officer yesterday evening. Spent the night,” Samuel says, adding, “Just here to pick him up and have the label pay the damages and fines.”

I nod. Princely Keldon is a member of the Chalice. Good to know. “That’s not what I asked,” I state, coldly. We reach the front doors.

“True, but we also both know if I didn’t have that excuse, I wouldn’t be here,” he replies, as he holds the door open for me.

I walk through and he follows. “So are you going to tell me?”

“Right,” Samuel says, “It isn’t anything too important, but there might be an attack coming.”

This stops me for a moment, before I compose myself and recover. “Why do you say that?” I ask.

“Jonny found a tourist close to the Veil,” he explains. “One Thorsen family. If they get into legal trouble, we’ll need a meeting.”

I immediately understand what he’s implying. A criminal tourist using magic would fall squarely between our domains. Somehow having Jonny find them first. “Someone’s testing the council’s loyalty to one another. You feeling any concerns?”

“King seems nervous, because of her own ties to the Veil. But no. I think someone’s watching to see our response.” Then, with a smile, he adds, “Or it’s just a coincidence and there are just some noncriminal tourists who don’t know what they’re doing.”

“Any idea about timeframe?” I ask. Pressing for information about this discovery, and about the people, of course.

“Not precisely,” he admits, “Jonny went to Zoey first. But she says the moment they use magic, she’s calling a council meeting, so we can assume a lack of magic, and whether or not their threats, staying beyond break would be suspect, so if anything is going to happen, it’ll happen this week.”

I nod. People underestimate Sam. He’s such a good DJ and music producer, and he’s so affable, many people don’t see the cold calculations always going on behind his warm countenance. “Good to know. I’ll check our records to see if anything happened yesterday.” Then, I realize I’ve been rude. “By the way, how’d the concert go?”

“Pretty good. I think tonight’s going to be better, though, I feel like I was a bit on edge after the news yesterday,” he admits.

I smile. “Good luck. And tell Princely to aim away from officers next time. Replacing gear is a hassle. And it’s a bad look for us to be throwing you famous people in jail.”

He laughs. “I’ll try,” he offers as he turns off towards the front desk, “But he’s really proud of his aim.”

I chuckle as I walk into the office. One of the uniformed officers, not one of ours, looks shocked at me. “Assistant Chief Vela, you know SMBook?” he asks, baffled.

I shrug. “Yeah, we’re both local boys,” I tell a half truth. “Grew up pretty close to each other. We even went to school together, back in the day.” Both technically true. We didn’t actually know each other in high school. He was a couple years behind me and ran with a more questionable crowd than I liked to associate with, but we did technically go to the same public high school.

“That’s awesome. You think you can get me an autograph? My son is a huge fan.”

I shake my head. “Probably not,” I reply as I press past the slightly disappointed officer. Another uniformed officer, one who is one of ours, approaches. “Trouble?” she asks. Officer Laura Daly looks concerned in Mister Booker’s direction.

I shake my head. “Maybe. We’ll need to set a pot to start brewing.”

“Really?” she replies to my warning. “How soon?”

“Yesterday, if possible,” I answer. She nods and we head to the break room together. “Anyone else going to want some?” I ask her as we head inside.

“Xavier’s been working all night. If he’s still in, he’d need a cup,” she replies. So Detective Xavier Womack is working on something in the hidden room. I wonder what. Not that I need to wonder for long. I walk past the coffee maker to the bulletin board by the fridge. Pressing into it, I push my energy, my own subtle connection to the Veil, through my palm into the wall, which begins to falter slightly. My hand begins to pass through, and Laura joins me in walking into the hidden room.

The hidden room of this station is our most well-stocked hidden room. After all, I’ve made sure I have everything in here that I’ll need to work. And several of the other members of the department who are members of the House also make use of it. Sitting at one of the terminals, with several files open, is Detective Womack. He’s vaping, stressed, with a flask out. I sigh. “Xavier,” I scold the middle aged detective.

Xavier shoots up. “Oh, shit,” he mutters, “Is it morning already?” He shoves his vape away into his coat.

“Yes,” Laura states, “I did warn you when I got in an hour ago.”

“It’s been an hour?” Xavier, still baffled, adds.

I sigh. “What are you working on?” I ask him.

“The last four spring breaks, there’s been an influx of magical activity in conjunction with break ins in the marinas. You noted it as likely just tourists that have some minor Veil interaction doing standard mischief, but I think it might actually be a local, unaffiliated faction that is using the influx of tourists to target specific boats that have odd origins.”

“Odd origins?” I press.

Xavier breathes out heavily. “Right, um, that’s what I’ve been tracking down. They’re all pre-council origins, who had owners that vanished between twenty five and 10 years ago, back during the times when the city was heavily magical.”

“Crap,” I say. Because that timeframe is the fading of the Fae. Which means the house of the Seal will be involved, if they aren’t already. “Take a break, you aren’t getting overtime for this,” I say. Xavier grumbles, but starts to pack his things up to head back to his apartment. Then, I turn to Laura, “You’ll be taking over, I need financials along the beach.” And I head over to the side of the hidden room, where there are a few boards on wheels. Rather than the whiteboards, I pull out the cork board. On it, there is a map of the beachfront, with several lines of string, each a different color, and pins to specific store locations. There are a few places on the map where many of the lines cross, but those few places where the largest number converge are rather disparate from one another.

Laura finally manages to kick Detective Womack off the console. He remains, though, curious about what I’m up to. After all, the corkboard is for me and me alone to touch. And I’ve been slowly adding to it ever since before I joined the council. “Alright. I’ve got the financials pulled up. What are we looking for?” Laura asks. A database of every transaction from every legitimate business sits open, waiting for them to search. Not legal, technically, but so long as they only use this for Veil-related business, it is not a problem.

I look over at her as I pull out a new thread and pins. “Thorsen. If we have a hotel from two days ago, then everything from yesterday. Probably only need it up until around noon, but let’s go through two just to be safe.”

Slowly, she goes one by one through the credit and debit card transactions of anyone with the last name Thorsen yesterday, giving me both location and time. It seems like there are a few people here, but they are travelling in a pack. And they cross over with many of the other lines. And yet, still no clear locations pop out. I mutter to myself by the time I put in the last marker, an ice cream at a food truck at 1:52, “A pattern is going to emerge. It has to.” And yet, despite my insistence, none does. Not yet. There’s some aspect I’m missing. Somewhere they all frequent, where paying cash is more likely than credit. I sigh and shake my head.

“Still nothing?” Detective Womack asks.

“Nothing on the mystery board,” I reply. They don’t need to know what I’m tracking. “And aren’t you supposed to be leaving?”

He sighs, “I guess I am, sir,” he says before giving a halfhearted salute and backing out of the false wall into the break room.

I turn back to Officer Daly. “Put an alert in the system to message me and King both if anyone named Thorsen is arrested this week,” I say as I stretch out, looking at the board. It has to be something there, some part of the path that’s wrong.

“Done,” she says behind me. “Any particular reason you and Mister Devin both need to be informed?”

I turn back to face her. I guess she deserves to know. “Because depending on the specific circumstances, if any of them get arrested we might need to mobilize for a war.”

Officer Daly looks concerned. “How often is this going to happen?” she asks. Makes sense, she’s relatively new. Less than a year with the House. Joined around the same time I became part of the Council.

I sigh. “Very rarely. Last time was, well, when I had only been in touch with the Veil for about as long as you have now. Decade or so ago.” Then, with a shrug, I add, “And even then, it turned out to be nothing. Well, not nothing, but whatever we were mobilized for was stopped before we had to act.” With a reassuring smile, I reiterate, “Just, if it comes to it, breathe, stick with people more experienced, and remember that this is not the normal way of things.”

She nods, and adds, “And hey, maybe it won’t come to that.”

I turn my chair around and look at her. “Officer Daly, believe me when I say this. If Booker is warning me about something they are worried might happen, it is very likely imminent. Those of us on the council, we aren’t just there to fill a role. We’re all very good at what we do. And very dangerous.”

Laura frowns. “You, I can see being dangerous. Same with that Staff lady, Professor Wrightly. He doesn’t seem dangerous, though.”

I explain to her. “Do you know how everyone knows who the members of the council are?” I wait for her to nod before continuing.

“I mean, not Jonny the Mystery, but other than that,” she offers.

I chuckle. “You have a point, but not what I’m getting at. It isn’t necessarily just us that know it. Plenty of people leave the houses, and some tell others, outsiders about them. Many outsiders are not friendly towards how we run things. It’s why we keep most of the members of the houses secret, even from the other houses. Booker is a public figure, who travels the country on a regular basis and interacts with unpredictable swaths of people. And he’s been doing that and on the council for half a decade.” I look to see her reaction. She processes it, and looks curious.

“So how often does he have to deal with threats?” she asks.

I smile. “We don’t really advertise that,” I tell her. It differs between us, but I also know that, like Laura, many assume him to be the weak link of the council. And so, even if he weren’t so exposed, he would likely be targeted more than the rest of us.

Laura nods. “Probably more than you, even if you only factor in the threats in the city,” the officer pauses, thinks, then says one word. “Concerning.”