The field of arson investigation has been one of the more successful specializations of guard forces. There are now entire branches of magic dedicated to legally identifying the cause and source of such blazes.
— When the Fire Burns Blue
Linsan shifted uncomfortably as she tried to find a comfortable position on the hard-backed chair from a nearby cafe. No matter what position she found, it only took seconds for a throb or twinge from her injuries to report itself and she had to move again.
Frowning, she scratched the thick pad of bandages wrapped around her upper arm. She could still feel the sting of the stitches the barber had sewn before wrapping them. The hand below her injury trembled and her chest hurt from the anxiety that the damage would affect her ability to play a violin.
Brook's groan turned into a dry cough. She sat in the chair next to Linsan, tears running through the soot and ash on her face as she steadfastly tried to keep her posture straight and her gaze away from the old butcher who held her head to the side while she stitched a wound in Brook's brow.
“There you go, Sweetie,” announced the barber as she ran her wrinkled fingers through Brook's hair to dislodge ash and flakes of dried blood. “There might be a scar, I can't do anything about that.”
Brook glanced at her and then sharply back to stare straight ahead. Her jaw tightened for a moment before she ground her teeth together. Then, with a start, she relaxed her mouth and lowered her jaw minutely.
Linsan smiled. She had seen the same actions among other actors. The posture, Brook's accent, and even the avoiding of clenched teeth were all techniques for presenting specific roles on a stage though they could also be used to relieve tension.
As quickly as the amusement rose, Linsan shoved it down in a wave of guilt. It made sense that Brook would have hired someone to help her present herself as a woman of means, a proper lady in society. She didn't have the advantages of growing up with wealth nor the constant interaction with the upper society that she was clearly clawing her way into. Those who came from generational wealth would single her out as an upstart, a country bumpkin with dreams of reaching the echelons of society.
Linsan's mother had been in a number of plays with that very topic, the most recent being My Fairest Rose.
A tickle in the back of her throat interrupted Linsan's thoughts. She coughed hard to get the stinging out but it remained frustratingly in the back.
“Cover your mouth,” Brook said without looking back. Then she yanked her hand up but couldn't cover her own lips before a cough escaped her. A faint blush colored her cheeks before she ground her teeth together.
Linsan fought the urge to grin.
A couple of women walked past them away from the bank. One was covered in ash and soot, her entire body almost black except for occasional smears. The other was damp and steaming, the heat rolling off her body as she fluttered the front of her shirt and gasped for breath. Both of them had matching marriage bracelets that clinked together as they held hands.
Linsan turned back just as Brook's head turned to follow the woman. She was startled by the sudden look of longing on Brook's brown eyes. As the women walked away, Brook subtly turned her head and then her shoulders to track them.
Linsan held still but she couldn't look away.
Brook started to turn more when her eyes locked onto Linsan's. There was a brief moment and then she sharply looked away. A moment later, she turned and straightened herself on her seat with her spine straight and her shoulders squared.
Linsan watched as the last of brigade scattered from the destroyed building. At least twenty folk had joined in a bucket brigade until those with magical powers could join in the fight. The steaming woman who walked the other way could create a stream of water from her hands. A young man from the zoo had a perpetual raincloud pouring down on him; Linsan's heart beat faster just remember how he had to crawl into the flames to put them out. There were others also, ranging from someone who had the ability to shape stone and another who could telekinetically pull out the debris to break up the fires.
She turned to look at Brook.
Brook's eyes were rimmed with red and there was ash mixing in with her makeup. Her dark hair was matted with blood. Soot marked her face and hands. Her green dress had been ruined with various cuts, tears, and scorch marks. She scratched her nose with a finger that had ripped free of her glove.
Linsan didn't know what to say. She reached over to put her hand on Brook's shoulder but then pulled back. She sighed and shook her head. Brook wasn't a friend, not after everything that had happened. Reluctantly, she lowered her hand.
“Dame Kabisal?” One of the city guards came up. It was a hawk-faced woman that looked like she couldn't smile if her life dependent on it. She held a clipboard in her right hand. A torc with a number of rings hung around her neck; Linsan could identify the city's symbol and two silver rings with a symbol for the guard. There were also two red rings and a copper one, but Linsan didn't know their purpose.
“Yes?” answered Brook in a deadpan voice.
“My name is Tirain Valos, a senior guard here in town. Could you tell me who was in the bank when the explosion started?”
Brook didn't look away from the blackened ruins. “I already told you.”
“Please? I need to confirm everything.”
“Fine,” she said with a sigh. “Before the three men came, only Daddy was working today. Everyone else had the day off to celebrate Salamin Day.”
Linsan had never heard of Salamin but Tirain just nodded and wrote something down. She shook her head and sighed. Then she looked over her shoulder at the ruins and then back again. She cleared her throat before focusing on her words again. “No one else in the building? Are you sure?”
A prickle danced across Linsan's skin. Tirain was acting as if she had bad news. Linsan's mind spun furiously over the words until only one answer seemed obvious: they had found a dead body. She inhaled sharply. It had to be Dukan. Trembling, she rested her hand on Brook's shoulder.
Brook jumped. She glared at Linsan, then lowered her gaze to pointedly look at Linsan's hand.
Linsan held her breath, praying that Brook wouldn't take the action hostilely.
Then tension in Brook's face faded for a moment, leaving behind a look of sorrow and fear. It was heartbreaking as more tears shimmered in Brook's eyes. The muscles underneath Linsan's fingers slumped as Brook drew in a shuddering breath.
“Please, Dame Kabisal. I need to document everything. You said three men. Could you tell me what you know about them? And if anyone else could correlate?”
Linsan held up her other hand, wincing at the pain. “I saw the three guys go in.”
Tirain asked them to describe everything that had happened, including the fight inside the bank. It was tedious and detailed, with the guard asking the same question many times but with different words or phrasing.
By the time the questions trailed off, the fire investigator came walking up. The air shimmered around him as he brushed off embers onto the cobblestones. “Sargent?”
The guard turned to him. “Yes, Mage-Captain Kamel?”
“I have my initial report. You should see this.”
Tirain gestured for him to walk a short distance. Linsan watched warily as they talked among themselves. The feeling that there was bad news only grew as she saw the lines furrowing across the guard's face.
Brook pushed Linsan's hand from her shoulder. “Don't touch me.”
Linsan flinched but pulled her hand back.
“Why didn't you fight?” Brook's voice was low and bitter.
With a cringe, Linsan sat back. “I tried.”
“You just stood around.”
“I need an instrument to use my talent. I've tried without, but it doesn't work without a violin.” She cringed at her own weakness.
Brook's brow furrowed. “I could have stopped them if you were just stronger. If you did anything besides shove me around.”
Linsan sighed and shook her head. “I'm sorry.”
“You should be.” Brook turned away from her.
Tirain returned. “Dame Kabisal?”
“Yes?”
“I hate to ask you this, but…” She tightened her grip on her board. “I need you to….”
Linsan finished. “You found a body?”
Brook tensed and her back straightened.. She let out a sniff and a little choked whimper.
The guard flinched. “If you can, it would help with the investigation.”
“D-Daddy died?”
Another cringe. “I'm sorry.”
Brook pressed her fingers against her mouth. Tears sparkled in her eyes. “No. It can't be.”
Linsan realized she was crying also. She sniffed and pushed herself up. “Can I help?”
Brook glared at her. “You haven't seen him for years. What can you do?”
“But I can still try.” Linsan frowned at the truthful words. She didn't know what Dukan looked like anymore, she just wanted to do something.
With a groan, Brook stood up. She stepped in front of Linsan. “I'll look,” she announced before she strode toward the bank.
“Um, please be careful, your dress might catch fire,” said Tirain.
The fire mage held up his hand and waved it dismissively. “Between the others and myself, we've diverted most of the heat already. Everything has cooled down, it won't even scorch the fabric.”
Tirain gave him a hard look. “And the soot, Kamel da Kasin?” The “da Kasin” meant that he was from Tarsan, a country to the east.
Kamel, the fire guard, shrugged. “You said catch fire, nothing about ruining the dress.”
“I don't care,” Brook said sharply and kept walking.
Linsan and the others looked at the scorched, ruined dress. A few more moments in the bank wouldn't do any more damage to the already ruined material. They followed after Brook. Linsan trailed after because she felt too guilty to just leave.
The smoking ruins were still hot. Heat rippled the air around him. Linsan was surprised how much was cracked and shattered stone. She wondered if Brook's power had contributed to the collapse of the bank.
“In the vault.”
The vault was the only part of the building was completely surrounded by stone. It had no bricks, just the smooth surface of magically-shaped rock. Despite that, much of it had been burned out and everything was a jumble of scorched wood and pieces of paper. The stench was overpowering.
Then she spotted the body. Right in the middle of the floor, there was a charred corpse. At the sight, Linsan felt bile rising up in her throat. “By the Couple,” she whispered.
“I hate to ask, but is there any way of telling us if that was your father?” asked Tirain.
Brook hesitated before she knelt down. She grabbed his wrist.
A stench of burnt meat rose up, choking Linsan. Her stomach heaved for a moment.
Brook let out a groan herself and clutched her stomach. With a trembling her hand, she turned the corpse over to show the blackened bracelet. “That's Daddy's,” she said in a quiet, dull voice. “The other half of the pair is at home.”
She shook as tears splashed down on the charred ground. Lifting herself up, she held her dress off the ground before stepping and then knelt down on the other side. She pointed to his ring. “That's also Daddy's.”
Tirain nodded and wrote quickly in her notebook.
Brook patted the corpse's pockets. “He should have his auto-driver activation gear here….” Her voice trailed off for a moment as she finished tapping his pocket. With a sick groan rising from her throat, she reached over to test his other.
Linsan circled around, fighting the urge to vomit. She couldn't look at Brook or the corpse. Instead, she focused on the ruins inside the vault. There were destroyed shelves everywhere, thousands of boxes and crates ruined in the flames. Priceless memories that were lost forever.
Her foot thudded against an upturned box on the floor. She pulled back and then realized it was familiar. Memories came rushing back. It was the wooden case she had found in the attic. The heavy wood was scorched and blackened but it had survived with relatively little damage. The papers and letters inside fanned out from the opening, most of them scorched but she remembered them.
It also wasn't on the shelf; she had helped her parents unload the delivery wagon. Instead, it was in the middle of the room as if someone had yanked it out to get to the contents. She had no doubt that the violin in May's bag had been Palisis.
She knelt down and touched the warm surface.
Kamel cleared his throat.
She looked up.
He shook his head.
Linsan pulled her hand back.
Brook sighed. “I can't find his auto-driver key. That would have been more proof. He never set that down.”
Tirain sighed and wrote on her clipboard. “Two pieces of identification is sufficient. Could I summon a wagon to take you home to verify against the other piece?”
Brook stood up. “I guess,” she said. Her eyes scanned the room before fixating on Linsan. Then a deep frown furrowed her brow. “Yes, let's go. I need to get away.”
Linsan watched Brook leave, then looked down at the box. Her ears pounded as she stared at the papers around it. She squatted down to inspect the case.
“Dame, you need to also go,” said Kamel as he approached.
“It isn't here,” Linsan said as she felt her throat growing tight.
“What isn't here?”
“Palisis. M-My father's violin. It was right here.”
“Maybe it burned up?” He said even as he was squatting down himself. His bare hands ran along the velvet inside the case. When he flipped up his finger, it only had a few motes of dust clinging to the tip. He looked around at the damage, obviously looking for it. “Maybe it fell out?”
She glanced at him, he had never been so close to her before. He had a scruff of a beard just starting to color his cheeks. His hair was short but there was a strong scent of old smoke and wood; after so many years of visiting the ruined workshop, she knew the smell by heart.
After a few seconds of peering around, he shook his head. “Maybe it wasn't. I don't see any metal from the body or anything in the right shape. You're right. If it was here, there would be signs. Maybe your father removed it?”
“No, we wouldn't have touched it. It was precious to my family. No one would have ever sold it. I thought I saw it in May's bag but I couldn't believe it. But… but… it's not here.”
“May?” His voice sharpened.
She blushed. “I-I don't know his full name. He was one of the robbers that attacked us. I… told the other woman.”
“Tirain is her name.” The guard sighed and shook his head. “Was it worth much?”
“Y-Yes….” She said, her voice trailing off.
Kamel gave a low, disapproving noise. He stood up smoothly. “Well, that opened up a lot more questions that need to be answered. You said your father. Is he in town? What's his name?”
When she gave both, he looked startled. “Sterlig?” His voice grew sharper. “You had a fire a few years ago. A workshop or store? I remember it being outside of town.”
She sniffed and nodded.
He gestured toward the vault's entrance. “Come, I have a lot more questions for you and your father.”