Dante walked through one of the administrative wings of the Bureau Headquarters, hands in his pockets, humming to himself. The corridors bustled with activity. People moved between offices carrying reports. Some argued over paperwork.
He had been looking for Jamie for nearly an hour. The girl had excused herself to use the bathroom. That was fifty-seven minutes ago. He had believed her then. He was not a suspicious man by nature—he preferred direct confrontation to subtle scheming.
Now he felt like a fool.
A secretary passed him carrying a stack of documents. He stopped her.
"Boss?"
"Good morning."
"No it isn't."
Dante blinked. The woman gestured toward the stack of paperwork taller than her head.
"These reports are yours."
Dante immediately changed the subject.
"Have you seen Jamie?"
The secretary narrowed her eyes.
"The girl with the indigo hair?"
"That's the one."
She nodded.
"I saw her heading toward the infirmary."
Dante smiled.
"Excellent."
The secretary smiled back. A very strange smile, one that should have warned him. Unfortunately, Dante was not paying attention. He thanked her and continued down the corridor.
'The infirmary,' he thought. 'If she wanted to see her friend, she could have just said so. Instead of making up some excuse about bathrooms.'
As he walked, his thoughts drifted back to his conversation with Jamie. The girl had been speaking in riddles.
Talking about scents.
Answers.
People she had yet to meet.
It was annoyingly cryptic. At first he'd ignored it but after fifty eight minutes of reflection he had become curious. Still, close to an hour in the bathroom...No one took an hour unless something had gone terribly wrong.
Or they were avoiding him.
Dante frowned.
"Probably avoiding me."
That seemed more likely.
He approached the infirmary door, pushed it open, and walked in. The infirmary was quiet. Rows of beds stretched throughout the room. He headed toward Elias' cubicle.The bed was empty.
He blinked.
Looked left.
Looked right.
Looked back at the bed.
Still empty.
"Hm?"
He looked around the entire infirmary. There was one other patient snoring loudly at the far end, an old hunter with a bandaged leg. No one else.
No Elias.
No Jamie.
'They're gone.'
He narrowed his eyes and extended his Flow Perception and the world shifted. Residual traces of Flow lingered everywhere like faint brushstrokes painted across reality.
Immediately he found them. Two signatures. One was Elias's, familiar now, dense and strange. The other was Jamie's, wild and fluctuating. Both ended near the window.
"Oh." Dante grinned.
He walked over. The window stood partially open. Ice remnants clung to the sill. A large puddle spread across the floor beneath it.
The evidence was obvious.
"Jamie." His grin widened.
"You little menace."
She had created an ice slide. Meanwhile Elias' trail continued downward. He floated either an artifact or most likely his own power.
Dante folded his arms.
"Those two are very close. Even their means of escape are similar." He chuckled.
Not surprising.
Both were trouble.
Trouble naturally attracted trouble.
"Interesting kids."
Still.
He couldn't exactly allow two children to wander around Aethelberg unsupervised. Particularly not after everything that had happened recently.
He turned toward the door and pushed the door open. A wall of women stood before him. His secretaries. All of them. Arms crossed. Expressions severe, some held ropes.
Dante's smile froze.
"Ladies."
The lead secretary—a woman named Erika with iron-grey hair and eyes that seemed to have seen centuries of bureaucracy—stepped forward.
"Boss."
"Erika."
"Your administrative duties have been neglected."
"I've been busy."
"You've been avoiding us."
"I have not."
"Your signatures remain unsigned."
"What signature?"
"You've conveniently forgotten the documents you were to sign since last month?"
The ropes became increasingly concerning.
Dante pointed accusingly.
"This is entrapment."
The secretary nodded.
"Yes."
"You admit it?"
"This is the only way."
Dante's eye twitched.
Then realization struck.He thought about the secretary who had told him Jamie went to the infirmary. Her easy smile. Her helpful tone. Jamie planned to lead him to the infirmary and trap him with the women.
"I've been set up."
Erika's expression did not change.
"Today, you will not escape."
He looked at the window. He could escape. Climb down. Vanish into the city.
But he was the Head Hunter. The greatest hunter the kingdom had ever known.He was not a coward.
Also, Erika was holding a rope. Dante puffed out his chest.
"I am Dante Clementes."
The ropes paused.
"I am the greatest hunter this kingdom has ever produced."
The secretaries exchanged glances.
"I have slain monsters."
Silence.
"I have crossed death itself."
One secretary yawned. Dante pointed dramatically.
"And I refuse to be made into some bureaucratic—"
The ropes flew.
A moment later he was tied up.
"Traitors!" he shouted.
"You will sit at your desk. You will sign the documents. You will approve the budgets and clear all the work you have kept stalled for the past few months, OK boss?" Erika asked feigning politeness.
Dante sighed and pouted.
"Fine."
Yet despite himself, he couldn't help laughing.
Those kids had gotten him.
Fair and square.
Maybe they'd be fine for a few hours.
Probably...
Hopefully.
Jamie moved through the crowd like a fish through water.
The city was alive.
People flowed through the roads like rivers. Merchants shouted. Carriages rattled across stone roads. Street vendors sold food from portable stalls. Children ran between crowds.
The scents were overwhelming. Thousands upon thousands of them.
Most people relied on sight.
Jamie relied on smell.
The scent of cooked meat and fresh bread drifted from open windows. Her mouth watered as she passed by a house.
Right now she was following Elias.
She couldn't see him. She did not need to see to know where he was.
She could smell him.
The scent drifted through the city, easy to track. Particularly after spending so much time around him.
She slipped through the crowd.
Past a district filled with stores.
Past cafes where people ate and relaxed.
Past workshops where smiths hammered metal.
The scents changed constantly.
Ink.
Wood.
Oil.
Metal.
Fresh bread.
Old books.
Rain-soaked stone.
Every district carried its own identity.
Jamie liked that.
Cities smelled honest even though the people lied.
Elias moved toward the old warehouses that had been converted into shops and galleries and tea houses.
'Where is he going?'
Another scent joined his.
Maria.
Jamie's nose wrinkled.
'Why is he following Maria?'
She pushed through a cluster of shoppers. The street widened. Another scent accompanied Maria's. It was a male. His scent was distinctive. New paper. Old paper. Metal—coins, probably. The smell of someone who handled money constantly.
'So that's him, the merchant's son.'
Jamie's jaw tightened.
'Why is Elias following them without me?'
She had every right to be involved. In fact, she was excellent at being involved.
Usually.
Jamie continued forward. Then stopped.
Her shoulder burned, the sensation was familiar—the Ouroboros mark, pulsing, tugging, demanding. Just like that night in the alley.
There was a building, old and unremarkable. The kind of structure that faded into the background of the city. Yet the moment she looked at it, her shoulder pulsed again.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Jamie frowned.
The sensible decision was obvious. Walk away and continue following till she caught Elias. Simply mind her own business. Unfortunately her curiosity was stronger than common sense.
"One quick look."
Famous last words.
Jamie moved. She found a side door, climbed a stack of crates, and pulled herself onto the roof. The tiles were old, cracked, but they held her weight.
She crept toward a skylight.
Someone was talking below. Carefully she moved closer.
There was an opening in the roof. Peering down, she found six familiar figures gathered around a table. Immediately she recognized them, the group from the alley.
A communication artifact sat at the center of the table.
Light glowed from its surface.
A woman's voice emerged.
"Just letting you know if this line gets tapped you guys are on your own."
One of the men scoffed.
"The line is encrypted."
"It'd better be."
The scarred man leaned back.
"We searched everywhere."
His voice carried irritation.
"No sign of the courier."
The woman's voice immediately sharpened.
"Of course not."
The room became quieter.
Jamie listened carefully.
The scarred man frowned.
"You're angry with me."
"Duh."
"What was I supposed to do?"
The response came instantly.
"Your mission was simple."
Silence.
"Find out why two couriers failed to report."
The woman's voice became colder.
"What did you accomplish instead?"
Nobody answered.
"You procrastinated and I hear you beat up a little girl."
The man looked at his comerades but they looked away.
Jamie's eye twitched.
"You became involved in an unrelated incident in the market."
Another pause.
"And nearly exposed the organization."
The scarred man raised both hands.
"Nothing happened."
The woman's silence felt dangerous.
"The thing with the little girl was a misunderstanding."
Jamie's second eye twitched.
The woman sighed.
"The couriers are probably dead. Their packages are unaccounted for. And you have nothing to show for weeks of effort."
Jamie absorbed every word.
Courier.
Organization.
Mission.
Questions multiplied.
'Who are these couriers? Why were they searching? Who exactly was speaking through the artifact? Who are these people and why did I get beat up because of them.'
Then another scent reached her. She sniffed.
Elias.
His scent lingered in the room. Faint. Almost gone.
Her eyes narrowed.
The smell originated from one of the women below. Flow Perception activated. Immediately she spotted it a talisman attached discreetly.
To the woman's butt.
Jamie blinked. Then blinked again.
"Elias."
That was definitely his work.
What exactly had he been doing?
Before she could think further— She shifted her weight.
A tile cracked just as one of the men below yawned and raised.
Their eyes met.
Jamie froze. An "Oh." escaped her as the man alerted the others.
"Someone's on the roof."
Jamie's heart stopped.
The man threw a piece of metal—a knife, maybe, or a shard—upward.
CRACK.
It punched through the skylight. Jamie threw herself back. The support beneath Jamie gave way instantly.
"Oh."
Her second oh was significantly more panicked.
The roof collapsed and she fell and hit the floor hard, her back screaming, dust exploding around her.
"Ow."
She rubbed her backside.
The dust slowly settled.
Silence filled the room.
Jamie looked up.
Six pairs of eyes stared at her.
The communication artifact remained active.
The woman on the other end said nothing.
She was simply watching.
Recognition appeared instantly and the scarred man's eyes widened.
He pointed.
"You!"
Jamie pointed back.
"You!"
A pause.
The room somehow became even more awkward. The man looked deeply offended.
"Why the hell are you here?"
Jamie considered the question as she looked up at the hole in the roof and back at the man.
"Honestly?"
The girl's grin appeared.
"I was wondering the exact same thing."
On the other end of the communication artifact, the unseen woman finally laughed.
"I like her." The voice said.