82- Blue Rose

"Harlowe," Ginny called to him for a second time.

"What is it?"

"A call just came in from the chief of Wahlborn Grove; another body's been found. He's certain it's connected to our case," she said as she sat at Mazurka's desk. "You're a million miles away today. What's going on?"

"Stressed about what might be happening at the MET. I'm not entirely certain sending Folsten in there was the right call."

"Stop second guessing yourself because it's too late to change now. Let's just hope Vershinin gets us something to work with, because my team has come up with nothing. All of my contacts said the same thing, never seen it, never heard of it. No rituals for it. No summons capable of doing it, and nothing that requires this many bodies. A couple made the same leap to death practices, but they couldn't or wouldn't say anything more on the subject. Tox screens and autopsies are all over the place and Mhugazia is no closer to nailing down a real cause of death because there's no box for soul eating creepy demon monster to check."

"I agree. Vershinin better give us something, because frankly, Ginny, I don't have a clue where to go from here," Harlowe stated as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "I'll have Mazurka and Kavak head to the Grove to confirm the body's one of ours. If it is, I'll have it sent to Muggs."

"I already forwarded the information to your phone," Ginny said as she stood up from the desk and headed towards the door. Stopping, she turned back and smirked towards him," hey, if you ever need someone to talk too…"

"I'll call someone else."

"Just making sure."

Harlowe huffed as Ginny left his office. Picking up the phone he called down to the evidence room.

"Kavak," he answered.

"Harlowe. I want you and Mazurka to come to my office immediately. There's another body. I'll give you details when you get here."

Hanging up the phone, Harlowe signed and closed the file he had been reading over. The paperwork just kept piling up, and the case kept getting bigger. Finding Eliza Warren-Bishop was a small victory in a losing war. Had it not been for the murder of Kenneth Ogilvy, it's a victory they wouldn't have even had. And now there was another body, three days before their pattern had indicated there should be one. There were far too many unanswered questions, the shit just seemed to keep piling on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It is impressive, is it not?" Phaedra asked as he stepped up next to Quayleigh.

"I never thought I would ever have been standing here," she replied as she turned and glanced at him.

"You've nothing to fear, Quayleigh. We have no reason to violate the contract."

"Even still, it's difficult to put trust into an entity with such a vile reputation."

"Then don't put your trust in the entity, put it in me instead."

"Earn it, Phaedra."

Phaedra chuckled as he walked up the steps to the entrance. Quayleigh was surprised by his reaction and felt the tightening grip of Folsten's hand around her upper arm as she leaned in towards her.

"What did you say to him?" Folsten asked, her teeth clenched as if she was trying to hold back her displeasure.

"Nothing of importance," she replied as she pulled her arm free from Folsten's grip.

"Behave yourself, Quayleigh. Getting close to him is not something you need to be concerning yourself with."

Quayleigh tried to remain calm as she made her way up the steps towards Phaedra, but the condescending way Folsten had just spoke to her, left her feeling raw and chaffed. She would have had Uroxuz kill her right there if not for the myriad of witnesses roaming about. Folsten truly had no idea how close she was to death, and this thought alone, made Quayleigh feel minorly amused.

At the front desk they were issued their ID badges and shown the entrance they were to use each day. Their badges acted not only as a key but also as a timecard, allowing the security system to monitor the comings and goings of every person in the MET. Even Folsten seemed impressed that the MET had adopted such a system, even though it had been primarily focused on the main and lower floors.

The expected tour seemed to have barely begun when Phaedra showed them into a large room with a massive cherrywood slab table at its center. There were four high-back, cushioned chairs, even as the table was capable of seating at least twelve, and two red files were placed before two of the available seats.

"If you please," Riannoske said as he guided Quayleigh to the farthest chair from the door and pulled it out for her.

"Thank you," she replied as he held out his hand to her.

"Allow me to take your bag for you."

"Of course," she replied as she handed it to him.

Phaedra carefully removed his cloak, setting it onto the table before he sat down across from her, and Riannoske set the bag onto the small table just behind her along the outer wall. Pouring her a glass of ice water from the awaiting pitcher, Riannoske set it within reach, before taking Phaedra's cloak from the table.

"Magister Gerotherine will be arriving shortly, but you are free to examine the contents of the files before you," Phaedra remarked as he continued to review the answers on the papers, she had filled out on the ride over, and Riannoske delivered a glass of water to Folsten.

"If I missed anything or need to clarify something, please let me know," Quayleigh said, Phaedra lifting his eyes to meet hers before returning them to the page.

Opening the cover of the folder, Quayleigh reached for the glass of water, only for Folsten to smack her arm and shake her head.

"Riannoske, a glass," Phaedra stated not even bothering to look up.

Quayleigh wasn't at all surprised that he had picked up on Folsten's paranoia. Even she had found it a bit odd that they had been given drinks, and Phaedra hadn't, but she had wanted to give them the leeway to prove they could be trusted. Apparently, Folsten had not felt the same way, and distrusted them to even keep the water untainted.

Upon delivering the glass to Phaedra, he set down the papers, "that will never do. Her glass has a thumbprint on it. I can see it from here. Give her my glass, and I'll take hers."

Riannoske seemed a bit put off by Phaedra's orders, clearly uncertain of what had just transpired, considering that there were clearly no marks at all on the glass, but obediently exchanged them without question.

Picking up the glass, Phaedra took a full swig with an exaggerated swallow before setting it back onto the coaster.

"That was lovely, thank you, Riannoske," he said before returning to the papers.

There was something brilliant about his motions, the way he so nonchalantly called Folsten out, without doing much of anything at all. He hadn't gone out of his way to embarrass her or verbally berate her for her behavior, he hadn't even bothered to look in her direction.

Taking a swig from her fresh glass, Quayleigh fought against smiling, and began to read over the first page, which was the list of subject matters she was permitted to study and where her workspace was relegated to. There were places for dates and signatures at the back, and she pulled the pen from her pocket and quickly filled it in seeing no valid reason to delay given that without signing it things wouldn't move forward.

"I apologize for the delay," an older man said as he entered into the room, another younger man following behind him.

Quayleigh immediately stood and bowed towards him, despite how Folsten remained seated, and Phaedra was delayed in his rise. Riannoske was quick to deliver a glass of water to the man as Quayleigh and Phaedra retook their seats.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Vershinin. I'm Inniken Gerotherine, one of the Magisters here at the Tribunal, and you can address me as such. I hope you have found everything to be acceptable so far?"

"Yes, thank you, Magister," Quayleigh replied as the unnamed man set two boxes onto the table, one before the Magister and one before Phaedra and left the room.

"It's nice to see you again as well, Detective Folsten."

"Likewise, Magister," she replied with nod.

"Do either of you have any questions before we begin?"

"None so far," Quayleigh replied as Phaedra set down the papers he had been reading and slid them to Inniken.

"Ah, thank you for taking the time to fill these out. I know it may seem a daunting task, but bureaucracy lives and breathes by the amount of paperwork it can push around. I see you've already gotten started on the last of the necessary forms as well. But if you would please set that aside for the time being, Phaedra and his assistant will be able to answer any questions you have about it after I'm gone, as my time here is rather short, and this is by far the more important step we must get through together. As you can imagine, one of the concerns we have here, is for the security and safety of all practitioners; even the unregistered," he said as he removed the lid from the box before him, Phaedra doing the same. "While I am aware that you are not a practitioner, given the nature of this study, it is imperative that we take an imprint of your magic. These canvases are specially designed to simplify the process. Just a core burst of your magic onto the face of it, and it will do the rest."

Quayleigh felt her heart pound as Phaedra removed what appeared to be a wood-backed canvas, covered in a thick layer of smooth black paint, a clear plastic covering over the surface. Pulling back the plastic cover, Phaedra leaned forward and set the canvas before her.

"You expect me to give you an imprint of my magic?" she asked as she glared at Inniken, knowing full well that there had been no mention of this in any of the contracts.

"I understand your concern, but you must understand the reason why this is required. How else are we to ensure that you don't violate the contract and practice the nature of what you will be studying? As I am certain you are aware this is a restricted subject to even speak about, and illegal in all other matters."

"I am aware, but what guarantee do you give me that you won't use this to steal my magic from me?"

"You don't," Phaedra stated as he looked up at her. "As the authority over all practitioners, the Tribunal has a right to ask that anyone suspected of using magic to submit an imprint. That includes the use of something as simple as a sigil, or the ability to read the languages of the mages. Moreover, it is your duty as a guest of the MET to adhered to the laws of magic set forth by the Tribunal, registered or not. If you never intend to do anything illegal, you have no reason to be concerned. We aren't in the business of punishing the innocent, regardless of the vile reputation we've been given."

"And you won't let me into the archives without this will you?"

"I'm afraid not Ms. Vershinin. The nature of this study is concerning as it is. We must take every precaution, and that includes knowing if you are even capable of using what you learn. This is our way of doing that," Inniken stated as he retook his seat.

A reassuring grip pressed against her right shoulder, reminding her that Uroxuz was with her and capable of making even this disappear when the time came. Tapping twice on the table, the grip vanished and Folsten cleared her throat.

"And you expect me to do this, why?"

"Curiosity, Detective Folsten. You aren't required, but we thought it would put Ms. Vershinin at ease if you were willing subject yourself to this also. Plus, the results can be quite surprising."

Standing up, Quayleigh removed her jacket and rolled up her right sleeve.

"I apologize if this takes more than one attempt. I was barely 14 the last time I tried to splatter my magic without something to focus it into," Quayleigh said as she flexed her fingers and shook out her hand.

"Force your magic into the canvas, even if it is just a small amount, and it will do the rest," Phaedra explained.

"You make that sound so much easier than it is," Quayleigh remarked as she smirked at him.

"No kidding," Folsten grumbled as she stood up next to her. "Care to give me a simplified version of how to do a, what was it? Core burst?"

"Well given that this is a test of my ability, I suppose you'd like for me to answer that?" Quayleigh asked as she looked towards Inniken.

"Please, I'm curious to know how you will answer this myself," he replied with a satisfied grin.

"The simplest explanation I was ever given, was to breath from your feet and exhale through your hand. So, basically, set your hand into the center of the canvas, close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, from the bottom of your lungs, like you're about to scream as loud as you can. Focus everything on your core, and with a final deep breath, exhale and push that tensed up feeling out through your hand," she explained in brief, knowing that it truly was far more complicated than that.

Phaedra seemed intrigued by her explanation though and watched her as she placed her hand into the center of the board. Catching his eyes in hers as she began to deepen her breaths, he momentarily looked to the right, and then back to her. She gave him a slight nod before closing her eyes, condensing her magic at her core and then splashing it out across the canvas. Pulling her hand away, she shook off the tingling feeling it left behind, and looked to the left, to where Phaedra had directed her attention moments before. Higher up on the wall, above the Tribunals heraldry, embossed upon a bronze plague were the five imprints of the founding mages, the farthest one to the right, far more familiar than she had expected.

"It seems you wasted a canvas on me, Magister," Folsten replied as she pulled her hand away and sat down.

"It is never a waste for one to try, Detective," Inniken replied as Quayleigh looked down at her own, the black paint, shifting and receding, leaving behind a white imprint of her magic.

It still looked as she remembered, a single blotch of curving lines, the appearance of a rose in full bloom, surrounded by a swirling nest of thorn covered vines. A faint hint of blue began to appear around the edges of the petals and was slowly growing move vibrant as the vines became filled with a dark green, and the thorns a faded burgundy.

"Blue rose," she whispered as she reached out towards the canvas only to stop and retract her hand.

"Ah, I see where the embroidered pattern now comes from," Phaedra remarked causing Quayleigh to turn her attention towards him.

"Actually, this was more of a coincidence than a deliberate choice. It was a gift from a woman I knew a long time ago; long before I even knew what my magic looked like."

"A story for another time perhaps?"

"Indeed. No luck Detective?"

"I'm afraid not," she replied as she glanced at the still black canvas.

There was something off about there being nothing on Folsten's. Everyone, even the untrained, would naturally leave something behind, even without trying or any explanation, hence why they were shrouded before they were to be used. Just by touching its surface, there should have been something left behind. It might have been faint, but as long as Folsten wasn't actively suppressing her energy, something that even trained practitioners have difficulty doing, something should have appeared.

"Too bad, I was curious to see what yours would look like, assuming that you're untrained."

"Completely. That's the first time I've even tried any sort of magic, and it turns out I do not have a natural talent for it," Folsten replied as Riannoske carefully covered Quayleigh's imprint with the plastic shield and set it back into the box.

"We appreciate your cooperation, Ms. Vershinin. And I truly wish I could give you more reassurance that we have no intention of using this against you. Your magic truly is quite lovely. I've haven't seen anything like it in quite some time," Inniken said as Riannoske carried the box around to the other end of the table, before retrieving the canvas before Folsten. "Should you have any concerns while you are here at the MET, I am, yet another, you may come to for assistance. For now, I must take my leave. It was a pleasure meeting you. I do hope you will get along with Phaedra and his assistant. If you have any complaints about either, do let me know."

"I'll be certain to pass along my critiques," Quayleigh remarked as she bowed towards him.

"All in good spirit," Inniken said as he stood and departed the room, the unnamed man returning to retrieve the boxes a moment later.

"I apologize for his abrupt departure, but he has little time to spare," Phaedra remarked as Quayleigh put her jacket back on before retaking her seat.

"No need to apologize. I completely understand. I'm grateful that he took what time he could to meet with us," she replied before grabbing the file she had set aside and setting it back before her. "Now that that is over though, should we get on with the rest of this paperwork?"

"Of course," Phaedra replied and she opened the cover to the first page.

They went over the paperwork rather quickly and then the tour resumed. They were shown the cafeteria, facilities, information desk, library, medical facilities, and lastly the elevator that required their IDs to work, and only allowed them down to the archival floor.

Exiting the elevator, Folsten was shown to her waiting area where Riannoske began to speak with her, and Quayleigh was taken by Phaedra to the room he had arrange for her down the hall.

"I hope this will be suitable for you," he said as Quayleigh looked around before grabbing his arm and pulling him further into the room.

Poking her head out into the hallway to ensure Riannoske was still occupying Folsten, she turned and looked back at Phaedra who seemed shocked by her behavior.

"We need to speak in private at some point, don't we?" she asked him bluntly.

"You don't trust her?"

"I never trust watchdogs with different masters. You can never tell when they're going to bite. She left no imprint on that canvas and we both know that's impossible. More importantly though, why did you draw my attention to the imprints on the wall?"

"I wanted to know if you recognized any of them."

"Of course, I did. They are all over this building. I've probably even seen them in pictures a few times."

Phaedra nodded and lowered his eyes, "We do need to talk, but there isn't enough time right now. Get changed, and once you're ready, I will show you to your workspace."

"Not even going to hint at what this is all about?"

"You will understand soon enough, but it is best if your watchdog doesn't get too suspicious. I will arrange for a private lunch. I do hope that you are willing to attend."

"If it means getting some answers out of you, I'll be there."

"Then I look forward to it, Blue Rose."