Miseria applauded. “Mostly in line with my own reasoning. Well done, Rogue.”
“Shush.”
“Now, now. Would you like me to pat you on the head?”
“No. I’d rather you tell me our next move.”
“Hmm, about that.”
“What?”
“Despite what I said, we may not be entirely back where we started.”
They stopped at a red light. An old woman was tottering across the intersection in front of them.
“Meaning?”
“Why is the Lifetaker posing as a child? Wouldn’t transforming into an average-looking person confuse the investigation far more than making us think they were underage?”
“I get that, but…”
“Would you like to know my answer? You would, right?” Miseria’s eyes were gleaming, clearly wanting something out of him.
“I’m driving. Just spit it out.”
The light turned green, and he floored it. Miseria slammed back against her seat and let out a grunt. “Urgh!” Rogue couldn’t help but think it served her right.
She adjusted herself and continued, “I believe there is a goal beyond confusing us. A counterattack.”
“How so?”
“To hunt those on their heels, they’re spreading false intel, pointedly hinting that a child is involved. To the Lifetaker, our actions are predictable. Anyone who starts asking about military families must be the detective. They need merely find us and kill us.”
“They’re picking a fight with the bureau?”
“I believe that’s the plan, yes.”
It was hard for him to believe. Who ever heard of a crook chasing cops? That would leave them with every officer in the country breathing down their necks. It was tantamount to suicide.
“Why should we care? Let ’em come.”
“Gosh, how bold.”
Miseria began shadowboxing in the passenger seat.
“Don’t be silly.”
“Look! I’m rather good at this, don’t you think?”
“I don’t. Stop rocking the car.”
“Such a dull boy. Do you take no joy in conversation?”
“I’m playing along plenty…”
“Hardly enough for me. Let us regale till our voices run hoarse!”
“Talk to the mirror. I bet you’d never stop.”
“Right you are! I can talk forever with no one else around at all!”
Miseria leaned in, putting her lips by his ear.
“Or I can whisper that monologue in your ear, if you prefer?”
“Don’t—”
A moment later, she murmured sweet nothings, like casting a spell. It tickled his ear, gave him goose bumps, and made his cheeks burn. And that was the least of it. What she said was far too inane—of such shockingly little value, it made him feel positively dizzy. Feeling his eyes roll back in his head, Rogue roughly elbowed her away.
“Fine, fine! We’ll do it your way, just stop that!”
“Really? Delightful,” she said but failed to stop muttering.
“Stop it now!”
“So demanding.”
“Pot calling the kettle black!”
He meant that, but she just whispered, “I am the portrait of restraint,” and he was left grinding his teeth.
Witches.
“Now what?” Miseria said, ignoring his scowl. “We may be stuck, but surely we can’t leave things be?”
“……Gimme a second.”
“Oh? You have a plan?”
In lieu of an answer, he took out his phone.
“Change of destination.”
It was the middle of the night, but the bureau never slept. Yellow streetlights poured in through the windows of his old home at the Third Precinct. He’d called ahead, so they were waved right in—staff and officers alike gave them curious looks, but that was the price he and Miseria paid.
The records room was in the basement. Inside, Rogue and Miseria were greeted by a wall covered in files.
“When in doubt, dig through files?” Miseria said, looking around. “Searching for what, exactly?”
“You remember the gate at Zack Knoll’s? Wondering if something like it has been used anywhere else,” Rogue said, pulling a box of files off the shelf.
“Blindly? From all these?”
“That’s how it goes.”
“You’re such a tryhard.”
“And you’re gonna help.”
“I’m afraid I’m very feeble,” Miseria said, flexing an arm. “My hands, they are white as a cave fish! Never known a day’s work! I could never lift.”
“A minute ago, you were bragging about your boxing skills. You’re a fount of lies.”
“You dare call me a liar? Please. I hate liars more than anyone. The word alone makes me break out in hives.”
“Yet here you are, lying yourself blue in the face.”
Seeing no use arguing further, Rogue focused on the files. That gate sigil had been distinctive. If it had been used in any other crimes, he’d spot it right away. The files were arranged by date, and he went through them quickly. He’d made it through a tenth of the total when he saw someone on the far end of the stacks.
Miseria must have given in and joined the fray. Flipping through a file, she said, “It’s midnight. Planning to sleep here?”
“Until I find something.”
“A real workaholic.”
“That gate’s not cataloged yet, so we gotta do things by hand.”
“Does your blanket not beckon to you?”
“Speak for yourself.”
He was appalled. Would she ever stop goofing around? But Miseria was, at least, doing the job. Flipping through files several times faster than Rogue himself was. Processing everything at a glance.
“You sure you’re not missing anything?”
“I could do all this before breakfast. Far easier than building a six-layer tower of cards.”
“A singularly useless comparison.”
But even as he spoke, his eyes caught something that gave him pause.
“I may have found it,” he said. “A month back, there was a case where a drug addict was scrawling sigils on the sides of office buildings. The lines were all out of whack, and the sigils wouldn’t activate, so it wasn’t a big deal…but think it links back to Zack Knoll?”
“Meaning?” Miseria asked, coming over.
“No reason for an addict to scrawl sigils. Zack Knoll’s a dealer. He may have ordered one of his clients to get out there and draw them.”
“What for?”
“Unclear. But it’s a lead. Let’s check him out.”
He shut the file and took a step but found Miseria blocking his path.
“What’s the big idea?”
“I’m helping,” Miseria said, smiling—and not budging.
“You’re in the way.”
“Rogue, I’m trying to save you time. Take a look.”
Miseria pulled a file from the shelf beside her. A photo of Zack Knoll’s gate was on the page.
“Well, shit.”
“Your theory was accurate. Sixteen others have been arrested for illegal gate setting. Care to check them out? I’ll show you around.”
Rogue gaped as she slid the file back on the shelf.
“……What do you know?”
“Nothing. Like yourself, I merely speculated.”
“Spit it out.”
“Patience. Things will come to a head soon enough.”
With that, Miseria patted his shoulder and moved past him.
He turned to find her leaning against the wall, kicking back.
She called it speculation, but she seemed convinced something was about to go down.
“Don’t make this complicated,” he said, moving forward.
“Not to worry. Nothing’s going to happen here. But you should be prepared to leave on short notice.”
Miseria was playing with the car keys. He wondered when she had picked his pocket. She tossed them Rogue’s way, and he caught them one-handed.
And as he did…
…the phone in his pocket vibrated.
He answered with his other hand.
“Detective Rogue!”
A voice so loud that it shook his eardrum. So shrill it was hard to make out, but he soon placed it. The Third Witch, code name: Saint.
“Catherine?”
“Yes, Detective Rogue! Your information led me right to the crook! I’m staking out his lair!”
Crook? Lair? Was any of this true?
“W-wait, where are you?”
“Dillo! West Third Street, the red-roofed house by the dentist’s office! I’m keeping a lookout from a nearby building.”
“Wait, listen…!”
“Your lead gave me a suspect! The name’s Iudic. A merc with ties to Zack Knoll! Loves fighting, been in all sorts of wars, including the Cleansing War.”
Catherine said that in a single breath, clearly pretty worked up. Like she thought she had to convey everything she knew ASAP.
“Catherine, don’t go—”
“His car’s here! Hanging up!”
“______Huh?”
The line went dead.
Madness.
“Goddamn it!”
“A trap, of course. The Lifetaker would not be so easily traced. She found one of the threads he left lying around.”
Miseria had her arms folded, unconcerned.