One

"What are you doing here?"

Lieutenant Danthres Tresyllione of the Cliff's End Castle Guard asked the question of her partner, Lieutenant Torin ban Wyvald. She was being confronted by a sight she'd never seen in their ten years of partnership: Torin arriving in the office before her. The only times he'd ever even gotten in at the same time as her was when they came together. Otherwise, he was always late for their twelve-hour shift.

"I work here," Torin said in reply, the white teeth of his wide grin shining through his thick red beard. The beard obscured most of Torin's face, as did his mane of red hair, which extended past his shoulders. All Danthres could truly see were his long, aquiline nose and his twinkling green eyes. Early on in their partnership, she had realized that, no matter what Torin's mood might have been, his eyes always had an amused look, as if he knew a joke that he wasn't quite ready to share with the rest of the world.

"That is the rumor, yes."

As Danthres spoke, a seven-peal chime rang all around them in the air, marking the time as seven in the morning, and the official start of the day shift, which would last until nineteen. The Brotherhood of Wizards had set up the timekeeping system, as well as the spell that rang out each hour with what everyone referred to as the "time-chimes." Danthres had never understood why they codified it so that the day began in the middle of the night—sunup made much more sense to her, especially since their shifts were concurrent with the rise and fall of the sun. She had added that to the ever-growing list of things that annoyed her about the practice of magic.

While the chimes rang, the other four detectives in their shift entered from either the west-wall door, which connected the squad room to the rest of the castle, or from the pantry. Danthres gave Lieutenants Dru, Hawk, and Iaian a nod each. She didn't bother to acknowledge Iaian's partner, Amilar Grovis, as doing so might lead to actual conversation with the young lieutenant, something that was guaranteed to turn her stomach.

Torin said, "I had to deal with a domestic."

Danthres frowned. "You got a call? Why wasn't I—?"

"I didn't say I got a call, I said I had to deal with a domestic. The couple downstairs have taken their arguments to a new level—and a new time frame. I was woken out of a sound sleep three hours before sunup by their fighting, which involved both screaming and the throwing of breakable objects."

Smiling, Danthres asked, "Did you bring them in?"

"No, but I made several threats along those lines should they ever wake me up again."

"Given what you're like first thing in the morning, that probably included a great deal of growling."

"Indeed." Torin's grin returned. "Let's hope it works."

"You know, you could just move in with me and be done with it. I certainly have the space." As she spoke, Danthres removed her brown cloak and hung it on a peg between the one holding Torin's own cloak and the empty one that Hawk never used, preferring to drape his cloak on his chair. The earth color symbolized their rank, with the gryphon crest of Lord Albin and Lady Meerka showing that they were assigned to the headquarters of the Guard, located in the eastern wing of the castle at the outskirts of Cliff's End, the city-state that constituted the Lord and Lady's demesne. Danthres liked the color, as it held dirt well.

"Danthres, we see each other at least twelve hours a day. I like the idea of having a place of my own."

"Well, at least come home with me tonight, spare yourself the bickering neighbors."

Torin laughed his hearty laugh. "I think I've sufficiently intimidated them into quiet for a few days, at least. But I may still take you up on that offer." He stood up from the large wooden desk that the partners shared, gathering up a dozen or so scrolls. "In any event, I thought I would take advantage of the opportunity to finish off some paperwork."

Danthres took her own seat, which was on the opposite side of the desk from Torin's. She watched as he walked past the other two desks in the squad room, one occupied by Dru and Hawk, the other by Iaian and Grovis, to the window that took up most of the north wall.

"The Marvilk case." In response to Torin's words, the window shimmered and twisted, changing from a view of the Forest of Nimvale that Danthres had long since grown bored with to that of a bearded male face. This was Ep, the imp in charge of the extradimensional storage area where all the Guard's files were stored, and Danthres's least favorite Guard employee.

"You know, you really don't need to tell me where the files are supposed to go," Ep said in his reedy voice. "Just send the scrolls through, I'll figure out which file to put them in by reading them."

"I thought I'd save you the trouble," Torin said politely. "After all, you're a busy imp." He placed the scrolls in the imp's beard, which also served as the gateway to the file room.

Ep sighed, an odd action coming from a face-shaped window. "I do appreciate the consideration, I suppose. At least you're nice about it, unlike your partner."

"I heard that," Danthres said.

"You were meant to."

Before Danthres could reply, the face reshaped itself back into an ordinary window. She shook her head. "Little bastard. He'll probably put them in with the triple murder."

Torin shrugged. "Probably, but at least I made the effort."

He crossed the room to the south wall, which was free of interdimensional portals, sticking with more mundane doors that Danthres, and the other detectives, had far greater use for: the three interrogation rooms and the pantry.

The latter room was Torin's destination. "I'm going to see if any good pastries are left." Sergeant Jonas's wife always baked for the day shift, but usually only the soggiest fare was left by the time Torin arrived, so Danthres couldn't blame him for wanting to take advantage of this rare opportunity. "Want any?"

"No thanks. I passed Corin's stand on the way in, and he's still grateful to us for catching that thief, so I'm laden with biscuits." She grinned. "Consider it another incentive to come home with me tonight."

Laughing, Torin continued to the pantry.

"It's disgusting, you know," said a nasal voice from behind her.

Scowling, Danthres turned to look at Grovis, who was walking over from the desk he shared with Iaian. His goggle-eyed face framed by mousy brown hair, Grovis looked even stupider than usual by virtue of the pastry crumbs around his mouth.

Danthres snarled. "What is?"

"You two associating—fornicating like that. That sort of behavior is an affront to Ghandurha." He made several hand gestures that Ghandurha-worshipers used to ward off evil. "Especially a human with an elf—disgusting."

"I'll have to find some way to live with your god's disappointment, Grovis." Danthres turned her attention to the piles of parchment on her half of the desk. Torin's actions this morning reminded her of how far behind she herself was on her own paperwork. The alternative was to remind Grovis that her very existence was due to a liaison between an elven man and a human woman. I'd rather drive a wooden stake through my tongue than talk to him any more than necessary.

Before Grovis could continue his own thoughts on the subject of Ghandurha's views on sex, Sergeant Jonas entered the room from the west-wall door. Grovis sat back down at his desk.

Jonas shuffled half a dozen parchments, his green cloak billowing behind him. The gray-haired veteran always seemed to be moving about one and a half times as fast as everyone else. Dru once speculated that he'd purchased a Speed Spell from the Brotherhood of Wizards, but Hawk pointed out that he could never afford such a spell on a sergeant's salary.

The sergeant surveyed the three desks and six chairs, noting that one of the latter was empty. "I see everyone's here except ban Wyvald, as usual."

Copyright © 2004 by Albe-Shiloh, Inc.