33- Meeting at the M.E.T.

"This is the place," Harlowe remarked to Folsten as he parked the car in one of the spots in the front row marked 'Visitor Parking'. "Good thing we left when we did. Traffic's worse than it used to be."

"Frequent visitor?" she questioned with a rhetorical tone.

"Something like that," he grumbled as he got out of the car. He waited for her at the curb and locked the doors before stuffing his keys in his pocket. "Eyes open, mouth closed. The kid isn't here, so I need you to be my eyes and ears. Take notes if you must. The guy we're going to meet talks fast and has a penchant for being cryptic."

"I'll do my best to pay attention," she replied as she followed him to the front of the imposing building.

It was of older architecture; massive, fluted stone pillars guarded the front entry way as they supported the roofs overhang. The words 'Turnage City Magic Enforcement Tribunal', embossed on a bronze plaque, hung upon its face, and a set of glass doors with oak frames, gave a not-so welcoming appearance to the courthouse style structure.

Making their way inside, they walked across the cold and sterile lobby approaching the front desk of black walnut and the lone clerk, a staunch woman of some years.

"Greetings. How may I be of assistance?" she asked once they had arrived.

"Renford Harlowe to see Magistrate Inniken Gerotherin. We have an appointment."

"Very good. Please, take a seat and I'll inform the magistrate of your arrival," the clerk remarked directing them to the wooden pew located on the far side of the lobby.

"Thank you," Harlowe replied as he stepped away, Folsten following behind.

Sitting down on the pew, they waited for nearly twenty minutes when a young man in black robes descended the nearby staircase and approached them.

"Renford Harlowe?"

"That's me."

"If you would follow me, Magistrate Gerotherin will see you now," the man stated before turning and heading back up the stairs.

Harlowe and Folsten hurried themselves after the man who hadn't even waited for them to stand before leaving. Reaching the top of the stairs, they were led down the hall to a room at the far end of the building. Opening the door, he let them inside.

"You can leave us," a man's voice echoed from across the room.

The young man, who had been their guide, bowed and left, closing the door as he went.

"So, the starbitten son dares to enter the hallowed walls yet again. It has been a longtime Renford," the man taunted as he turned around having been staring out of his offices window.

He appeared to be a few years, if not a decade, older than Harlowe. His pure white hair, straight and long, was combed back from his face and secured in a low ponytail at the base of his neck. He wore a deep purple robe with a black mantle, edged with golden silk, and a white brocade ascot adorned his chest.

"Magistrate Inniken, this is my associate, Detective Hayden Folsten, a profiler from Clairemont Heights."

"It's a pleasure," she said bowing towards him.

"Greetings. Please sit." He motioned to the three cushioned chairs before his desk, as he sat in his overly cushy looking office chair. "Long have I awaited your return. Imagine my disappointment when I discovered it was for nothing but a chat."

Harlowe smirked as he sat down, "The feeling of disappointment is mutual Magistrate. I had to cash in my last favor to get this meeting."

"Then let it not go to waste."

"That's the plan. I'm sure you know about the strange murders in the city?"

"Of what strangeness do you speak? For all murders are acts of selfishness and there is nothing strange in that."

"All acts are selfish. You certainly managed to teach me that. What is it you used to say? True altruism is an illusion cast on the gullible, downtrodden, and weak? I'm not here to discuss the act of murder with you, just the means by which they've been done. Someone's using magic to kill. We're here because we need information that only you can provide."

"And what is this information that you seek?" Inniken questioned as he narrowed his eyes, folding his hands together on the top of his desk.

"I need to know how it's possible for a practitioner to hide their magic. No residual traces can be found on any of the victims, even the fresh ones."

"Impossible. If a ritual was being used, a trace would remain." The magistrate pursed his lips and closed his eyes in thought. "Ripples in still water will fade in time, but that which caused them always remains. One would have to take what they used with them, and in magic that cannot be done. What you seek is not a practitioner. I do not know what has killed your victims, but it was not magic."

Harlowe stared at the magistrate, "What about a summoned creature? Would it leave a trace behind?"

Inniken laughed. "Preposterous! The absurdity of your question barely deserves a response. No one would waste such valuable resources to commit a murder. Hiring a common thug would be easier and more efficient. However, it is possible that no trace of that type of magic would be found on the bodies. The test your medical examiner uses is most likely a generalized one. Summoned creatures are distinct and require a more refined test to discover. It also fades far more quickly than ritual magics."

"So, it could be done?"

"It is possible, but only a mad person would resort to such tactics when easier means are available," Inniken replied as he sat back in his chair. "What makes you think your killer is using magic to begin with?"

"The victims have all died with a look of fear frozen on their faces. They've seen something and it terrified them to death. We have footage of a shadow being present at one of the murders, but the videos quality's so bad, we can't identify it."

"And someone thought it was a summoned creature?"

"It was brought up as a possibility."

"Did it move?"

"From what we could tell, it just stood there."

Inniken stroked his chin for a moment, "Then it isn't any type of summoned creature I've ever heard of. But stop wasting my time Starbitten. You could have gotten this information from any practitioner. Ask me what you came here to ask."

"Fine. Tell me everything you know about Death magic."

The Magistrate smiled and chuckled. "It doesn't exist."

"Bullshit, Inniken! I know full well it's been written about despite what the MET has done to conceal its existence. Now start talking!" Harlowe shouted as he slammed his fist down on to the top of the Magistrates desk.

"Temper, temper, Renford. As I said, Death magic does not exist. We don't know exactly what it is, but it is not of our realm, and it cannot be classified as magic. While it has been studied, and used, to call it magic is an amateur's description. It is something different, and it is also dangerous on a level beyond that of any magic currently in practice. Death is not as simple as it appears. To harness, to understand what it is, that is not something I can explain. The MET has kept guard over the practitioners of this world to prevent such dangerous material and practices from begin used. One doesn't simply stumble across this practice. Tell me, Renford, who told you to seek this information?"

"An anonymous informant of my partners. And despite what you said, it's still possible that someone managed to figure out how to use this death-whatever to kill people, and based on what you've said, it wouldn't leave anything detectable behind, would it?"

"I don't know. I find the entire idea unlikely, but I've never dared to study the subject myself."

"You have the materials here though?"

"We do. We keep an extensive selection of old manuscripts on the topic," he replied in way that sounded as if he were bragging.

"Any chance you'd let me borrow some of them?"

"Absolutely not! They are not allowed to leave this building. In fact, they are not permitted outside of the archival room."

Renford leaned forward, shifting his shoulders, and scrunching his brow, taking on a serious demeanor, "Inniken, magistrate, someone has managed to murder seventeen people, that we know about, no doubt there will be more. I need to know how they're doing it in order to stop them. Will you help me or not?"

The magistrate sighed. "Regardless, I cannot let those documents leave this building. And you wouldn't be able to read them even if I managed to get you access."

"What if I brought someone here who could read them? Would you be willing to let them examine the texts?"

"What you're asking is insane Renford. Do you not understand the magnitude of allowing someone to read, to gain any understanding over death itself?"

"I know what I'm asking, but someone already has that knowledge. What I need is someone on our side to understand it. It may be the only way to stop this killer."

"If what you say is true, then there is no stopping them. You cannot stop death, Starbitten. From the moment of conception, you journey towards your end. Death cannot be cheated. It cannot be bargained with. You cannot beg or pray to it. It is indiscriminate in its nature. I cannot allow a practitioner to study anything to do with the subject."

"The person I'm thinking of isn't a practitioner," Harlowe admitted knowing that Inniken had chosen his words carefully. Cannot and will not, were two entirely different phrases to the Magistrate.

Inniken cocked his head, "Then what are they that they can read the texts of mages?"

"No idea. I just know that they can."

Inniken sighed and picked up the receiver of his phone making a call. "Send Phaedra to my office." Hanging up the phone Inniken looked at Harlowe with a stern expression. "Phaedra is in charge of the archives these days. He is the only one who can grant access to the texts. He's also the only one of us that has any knowledge on the subject, since he was given special permission to study the books. He needed to understand why they were classified as dangerous. If he thinks that it is possible that someone has used these means to kill, I will accept your token in exchange for my support."

Harlowe closed his eyes and nodded as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a dark green coin. He ran his fingers over it, taking in the intricate markings, the rise and fall of the pattern imprinted along its edge, and embossed upon its face, muttering, "I agree."

"You understand that once you hand it over, you will have no options left to you?"

"I understand perfectly," Harlowe replied spitefully. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew the moment Inniken had referred to him as Starbitten how this was going to play out. He had prepared himself for it, and it was the only reason he had the coin with him in the first place.

"And what about you, Hayden Folsten…"

"Keep her out of this. She's got nothing to do with it."

"Fine," Inniken huffed. "It doesn't matter anyways. She will simply ask you later what all of this was about. You can explain it to her yourself."

"You old bastard."

"Now, now, Starbitten. Is that anyways to address the only friend you have in this place?"

"Friend?! You're even more senile than I thought!"

A knock at the door interrupted their exchange.

"Enter!" Inniken shouted and the door opened.

A tall, slender man with floor length silver hair, adorned in green robes, black ascot, and a white mantle entered the room.

"You called for me?" he asked, his voice carrying a melodic cadence.

"Phaedra, you remember Renford Harlowe, don't you?"

"It has been many years. What brings you back to us?" Phaedra questioned as he smiled towards Harlowe.

"A case. It's good to see you again, Phaedra."

"Come, join us. Renford has some questions to ask you," Inniken remarked as he motioned towards him.

Phaedra closed the door and appeared to glide across the floor in a graceful manner, sitting upon the last available chair before the desk.

"And who might you be?" he addressed Folsten directly.

"Detective Hayden Folsten. I'm only here to observe."

"If that is all you are for, then do as you must," he replied casting an eerily wide smile at her that caused her cheeks to turn pink near instantly. "Now what is it that you wished to ask of me?"

"Someone's been killing people using undetectable magic. It leaves the victims with a look of fear frozen on their faces. Do you know what could cause it?"

"I suspect you already know the answer to that question. Is that not why I am here?"

"As sharp as ever Phaedra," Harlowe complimented as he shifted in the chair, wanting to look directly at him. "Tell me everything you know about Death Magic, or whatever it is you prefer to call it."