Count Me Out

The detective and investigator stood still in a moment of silence, never taking their eyes off the still force blocking their way, who in turn had also paused to examine the fancy carriage that had come to a halt abruptly.

Doran pulled his hood close to his face, his eyes barely peeking in between, and stuffed the loaded gun in his left pocket but kept his hand on it, Alexus interlocked his fingers ready to raise a barrier if things took a hostile turn. He slowly pressed the door handle open and let the door swing open, the opposite part had raised their shackles.

They both stepped down, with the detective moved into the investigator shadow as back up. Doran carefully analysed the group, they were masked and in uniform with a familiar badge pinned to their breasts, but he didn't jump to conclusions and went with negotiation as a first tactic.

'Good day gentlemen.' Even with the mask over his face, the investigator's voice was loud and clear cutting through the pensive silence. Someone stepped forward from the opposite group, his large frame towering over the others and flexing his gun slung across his shoulder with warning.

'What do you want? No one is allowed in or out, get lost!' He barked his command and aimed his gun at Doran threateningly.

'Now, now, isn't that a bit rash? I have come to deliver something to Lord Ernold, and it would seem it was for this reason exactly.' The lie slid off his tongue like butter on a pan. He knew he struck the right vein, when there was a pause of consideration from the opposition.

'Hand it over then, we'll make sure to deliver it to him.' The investigators hand flexed on his gun instinctively when the burly force started making his way towards him, he tried again. 'Unfortunately I'll have to refuse your consideration. This is something so valuable, Lord Ernold had made a good threat of his wrath if it were to be wrongly handled. I will give it to him myself thank you.'

By the time he was done speaking, he was at eye level with a hard stare. It didn't escape his observant eye, the tan line limit peeking out from beneath the mask. He spat in his face. 'I said, hand it over!'

Doran blinked unimpressed, 'And I told you, that won't do. I genuinely question your efficiency because the meeting has already begun with your master and here you are holding me back from fulfilling my errand.' The detective watched in fascination as the investigator grasped at straws to avoid a confrontation. There were seven men standing and if there were more in the motors, he wasn't fazed, he'd been trained to combat large numbers, his highest win count would be thirty three.

The only reason he had held back and watched the haggle in silence was from his conclusion that if he did things his way, the chances of having survivors was unlikely. He'd been advised by the governess thoroughly to avoid unnecessary murder, his kill count so far rounded up to a total of zero.

'And do tell, how would you present it? Where would you say you had come into its possession?' Doran spoke impatiently and genuinely irritated. He knew, if things took a violent turn it would be because the thick skull thug's ego won't back down.

'Renzo let him pass.' A voice called out from inside one of the motors and it must've been an important person because the investigator noticed the man before him stiffen like a soldier. Renzo stepped aside but his eyes were spiteful, Doran paid no mind and walked straight for the gates but his eyes scanned the motors trying to find who the voice belonged to.

The investigator and detective walked through the lane of carelessly parked motors and heavily armed bodies. While Doran stared straight ahead, Alexus could feel the slight shift of pneuma and looked at a particular motor, through its heavily tinted windows he locked eyes with who was behind it. He thought it unfortunate that he wasn't close enough to memorise the person's pneuma and they went on into the manor.

It was a lengthy walk from the gate to the main house, the road was levelled but was just dirt and it no sooner coated their shoes in a layer. Alexus itched to bend over every time to wipe it off but walked ahead looking anywhere but his feet, he spotted a flock of sheep on the trimmed grass lazily chewing away at what was left of it.

They were both sweating, with leg muscles strained by the time they got to the house. It was a standard structure of the times, its designs were modern and overdone, nothing exceptional about it, the detective did appreciate the canopy of trees around the building which brought a cool drift their way.

His breathing felt laboured, he looked at Doran how stood to his full height now composed. He wondered if he was out of shape, this might be true, but Doran's agility steamed from the consistent training he received in the Queens temple. Once the official house of the Queen's court, now the largest orphanage in the human realm, it wasn't out of the ordinary but the head of the place was a war veteran, so morning training of one hour was incorporated into the children's schedule. The head believed that every man, woman and child needed discipline and one of the best ways of achieving that was through exercise.

It's been four years since Doran left the orphanage and forgot all about the 4am regimen, but he found himself walking long distances that'd normally require a transport vehicle every morning. He considers it a form of saving and cutting back costs, but Doran has never had a financial setback in his life because he's well off to do. A single man, with a respectable job, living in a small comfortable two bedroom apartment downtown, the embodiment of a middle class citizen. In three years time, he would be looking for another place and considering finally building a family of his own, and the future would have ups and downs but it'll be alright. That was Doran's fate, living and dying an average man, he had nothing to worry about.

Yet he didn't settle into the lifestyle, eating certain meals, making every textile in his home and on himself presentable, sparsely buying luxurious things and believing in moderation, frequent health examinations, upkeep of his weapons and sublevel consciousness of how people perceive him. Like a soldier out of his element.

The investigator took confident strides and sluntered into another man's house uninvited and ready to face a possibly deadly situation. This was his reality, cold steeled thrill pressed against his neck in every mission and he enjoyed it, he wasn't born into the ideal role, he was made, and this was the present that threatened the future.

The door was slightly ajar, and they both stepped into complete silence, they looked around the furnished place. The inside was impressive and Alexus looked towards the grand stairs that he was sure could only have been designed by a particular august architect, he was starting to see a pattern and ruefully procure that the style among houses now was an ugly exterior and a shockingly splendid interior, he didn't favour this. Beauty on the inside should be reflected on the outside.

A servant walked into view and startled himself after noticing them. He looked like a freighted deer. 'Um, can I help you gentlemen?' His eyes dotted around the room nervously. 'Yes, we were invited by Lord Ernold. We would like to meet him now.'

The young man didn't seem pleased about it and looked like he'd rather be anywhere but with them. After a brief contemplation, he sighed. 'Right this way gentlemen, I'll show you to the garden.'

They walked through convoluted corridors, the detective considered that they might be lost when he stopped counting how many corners they've turned. He took notice of the portraits of the house residents, all stiff and poise, it unnerved him and in the slightly dim lighted hall, Alexus thought he saw one of the portraits' eyes move. He could feel his breathing turn shallow.

After a minute, the servant stopped to open glass double doors, that open the path to lush vegetation, at that moment, a pained groan wafted their way, all three of them tensed. Doran placed a heavy hand on the servant's shoulder.

'You should go back now. We'll handle the rest.'

He turned to the investigator wide eyed but understood the message behind the tentative smile, he bowed again before scurrying back into the house.

'Alexus....'

The detective nodded and walked down the cobble path with conviction. They followed the voices and came to a pergola, and witnessed two men on their knees and two standing over them, their eyes were drawn to the body lying on the floor in an awkward angle and with close observation, the head was bleeding and darkened the pretty white of the structure floor.

Alexus quietly netted his hands and chanted a spell, swiftly creating a thin translucent barrier. The standing bodies were talking in low voices, Doran knew they couldn't hide any longer if they could prevent the next victim.

'Gentlemen!' A gun shot rang out. Another body made its way to the floor, the investigator understood what type of bullet was in the gun, pellets. Spread out from the top of the head, and pierce out in numerous directions out of the face. His face scrunched up in ire. It was a nasty weapon.

The two figures standing turned to face them.

'Really?'

A disgruntled sigh came from the shooter. He stood about 5'9, his face was cut sharp, dull smart eyes stared at them in disappointment. Detective Smith snickered. 'Some criminal you are.'

'Who are you?' The other man's smooth baritone commanded a reply. He stood at similar height with his companion but his face was cut in half by grey hair, shielding the left side of his face, the right of his bang was tied up by a blue string. He looked to be in his forties by the wrinkles at the edge of his eyes.

'Investigator Doran and Detective Alexus Smith. Can you please move away from the last man left, it won't do if we came all this way and our suspects are dead.' The investigator smiled leisurely but the detective behind could see his tense back and he made it clear he would trade bullets if it was called for, hand tucked in his pocket.

'The bureau had figured it out this fast? You two sure put in the work but I'd hate to nip buds so young, so I'll give you a chance to back out. No one will blame you if you told them you came face to face with me.' The older man stood haughtily, with pride.

'Mowe, the crow. Unfortunately, my superior will not accept that I tucked tail and ran and this will end up in your disfavour. I'm sure you already know my partner is a sorcerer.' The investigator jabed at Mowe who took a closer look at the detective a step behind and finally focused on the barrier that had been set up.

'It's a shame, you might just be the only sorcerer in Hagford. You waste your talents like this.'

'I'm not interested in small talk.' The detective shot down Mowe at once. 'Step away from him. We'll be taking over here.'

The older man looked unimpressed and turned to the last survivor. He had been looking at the exchange in hope, tears pricking his eyes, he noticed Mowes stare and shook violently in fear. He turned towards them again and reached into his coat, the inspector could feel the adrenaline kick in, his heartbeat resounding in his ears. Then the crow brought it out, a slick foldable walking stick. He took a few unsteady steps forward.

'You can have him.' His entourage followed suit, the investigator slit eyes watched them with foreign countenance. When they were close enough, Doran's side eye met with Mowes. 'It won't forever be this way, Crow.'

There was a chill in the breeze during that moment. Alexus stared intently at the unfamiliar side of Doran, was it anger? There was an unsettling sinking feeling in the back of his mind, he didn't know the inspector, and it was a startling realisation he was with a stranger albeit friendly but a stranger nevertheless. The meaning of such an expression and his thoughts about who the investigator was felt world's apart by contrast. The moment felt strange and stirred something in the detective, he looked at the root of evil, calm and unbothered. He knew how it worked, a person untouched by the law, they couldn't take him into custody and they couldn't damage him, a part of Hagford will crumble away to the bureau, the man to the distaste of many was one of the pillars holding the states independence. A useful demon.

'You will fall to reckoning.'

'Humph' The crow continued along his way without sparing a glance at the investigator.

Alexus finally became aware of one thing in his surroundings although later than expected. He was curious about the investigator, he wanted to know who he was and he wanted his secrets. He unlocked his fingers and took a pinching bite on his nails considering his options to get what he needed, he wasn't good at making conversations comfortable for people to confide in him, there was a backdoor method he was shown when he took the title of the house but it was too shady and he wasn't ready to deal with those cobwebs yet. The detective had found something interesting to tinker, a rare event indeed.

He walked out of Dorans shadow, moved forward and turned to look squarely at him, but his demeanour had changed and now had a strained smile. The investigator didn't linger on the detective and moved to the last man kneeling under the pergola. He had bent forward and seemed as though he was praying, but his shoulders trembled and tears of relief fell on his lap.

'Ernold?' The investigator inquired.

The man shook his head and looked at the body on the left, Doran hissed. Their objective had been killed already due to his carelessness. Everything so far had led to this dead end.

He pinched his eyes and took a deep breath, all his build up and crumbled and he started to think of what he did wrong, there could have been a better way to preserve Ernolds life. But what good was that? There was an unpleasant taste in the back of his throat, there had to be something to rectify things.

The man kneeling had begun to rise but was knocked flat on his stomach by the wind. Alexus took the lead. 'Ernold is gone, rest be to his soul, but we still have you and I advise if you don't want to join him you answer our questions truthfully.'

The investigator hand wrapped around his mouth and watched Alexus do his thing in silence. The detective took purposeful strides and walked around the individual whose limbs were humiliatingly spread apart.

'Are you Ernold?'

The questioned tried to shook his head but realised he couldn't do that, with a trembling voice he denied the identity again. 'No.'

'How do you know Ernold?'

'I'm his secretary.'

'How did Ernold know Mowe?'

He hesitated, the detective stepped on his fingers. The secretary muffled a cry.

'Jewellery! Jewellery trade!'

The detective's hard sole tapped lightly on the crushed fingers in warning.

'Explain.'

'Mowe, funded the excavation to the Queen's tomb—'

Both men's eyes turned harsh, the detective foot came down hard on the hand beneath. The secretary yelled and moaned.

'You grave robbed our mother?' The investigator's eyes stared dangerously and the lain body, as if trying to burn him to ash.

'No! I mean— we didn't take anything. We couldn't go far.

'What do you mean?' The pressure on the hand didn't let up and the secretary feared the numbness he was beginning to feel from it.

'Lord Ernold was approached by Mowe five months ago about a once in a life time opportunity. When he told us it had to do with the Queen, we refused of course, we would never desecrate our mothers burial ground but, Lord Ernold changed his mind.

He said he could now see the prospect and told me that in fact it will be of every use to the Queen. I thought he was already blinded by greed, to willingly partake in such blasphemy.'

The secretary took in some rough breaths and the detective put his foot to the side but still tapped it on the ground in warning.

'Over the years Lord Ernold had been to many places, he knew many and many owed him. We gathered some experienced men but Mowe supplied us with two sorcerers. I never saw them but I know they're the ones who opened the Queen's tomb.

Lord Ernold insisted on being with the team and said he had to see it all for himself. It was going fine yet then, he refused to tell me what we came for because he had long admitted he wasn't after wealth. I was curious but it wasn't my place to know everything, I followed him and as we got closer to the heart of the tomb it was as if we were going mad.'

He paused, the secretary's eyes took on a glassy look and stared into the past.

'I remember, scratching, itching at my neck like I was wrapped in chains, I bled yet I didn't stop. Everyone else also battled something we couldn't see, one out of eight men shot his foot then shot another person and then emptied the gun into himself.

I knew everything was happening, everyone was wrong but I watched, I didn't stop, no one stopped but the man I thought was out of it the most who had begun to talk of invisible voices suddenly stopped and told us to turn. We could go no farther, Lord Ernold, his will broke our curse and the journey that felt like days to get to that point took minutes to get out of, we were led by greatness.

He shouldn't— this... this isn't where it was supposed to end. LORD ERNOLD!'

The man below roared, passion burning in his eyes looking at his master's motionless husk of flesh.

The investigator cut the grieving short. 'Yet, you had the brooch.'

'The brooch.....' the man whispered and again he looked into the past in a trance.

'He was chosen. The brooch found him, waiting for his return he saw it and knew his destiny, he talked of the queen. That she would be pleased and find greatness by her side, I still don't know the meaning but he informed Mowe that he had the jewellery, the old Crow wanted him to hand it over, he refused and today he was supposed to negotiate he didn't want to get payment, he didn't want the money. He was after destiny, a future he could see and know will prosper.

Mowe had a plan, but even Lord Ernold wasn't fully aware that's what he wanted in on. The vision was in sight until—'

His expression stormed and could have spat but resisted careful that it could touch the detective's shoes.

'— the stupid, stupid girl. She took it, she took the brooch. She stole it! She stole his life, his future! She took it all!'

They both knew he was talking of Sarah Voluch. Alexus thought to continue and ask how the brooch had found Ernold in the first place but the look in the secretary's eyes says that he was losing grasp of logic. So he stepped away and released his spell on him.

The man once freed crawled towards his master moaning in woe and grieving for what could have been. He walked closely and looked at the face of the victim, his face was peppered with bruises from the pellets and one of them in the white of his eye but he might have bought into the secretary's story too much when he thought, even in death the man's eyes were bright and still showed the remains of ambition.

He moved from the body to the next but his eyes stared too long into the deceased's before forcefully looking away. The second man's expression was locked in surprise, shot from the jugular the pellets spread out from the bottom of his face, Alexus somberly reflected on his own life there were many scenarios he was possible to get into because of his job that could end in this outcome. And he remembered his cut off mark, he wanted to at least live till twenty-one.

If he could make it so far— he imagined black fluffy hair and warm honey eyes— the detective blinked fast back to reality and looked hard at the dead victims to remind himself of his purpose. The investigator lumber to the side of the detective whose mouth corked a smirk at him.

'I didn't think you would lose heart so fast, do you do so often?'

'I don't, this.....I didn't expect that I'd give up either. Were you disappointed?'

Doran looked at Alexus with a dusty blush on his nose, his eyes apologetic, his hands in his pocket, body in a relaxed pose waiting. Irritation tickled Alexus and he didn't know why he was displeased, he had just seen him flatter embarrassingly so, yet like this he still seemed mature and composed, there was a two years gap between them there should barely be any difference but Alexus could feel the pettiness rise within him. Bratty and defiant.

'I couldn't care less.' Doran felt stung but appreciated the clipped reply, he didn't need to feel too guilty about it and Alexus wasn't interested in capitalising on his moment of weakness.

'If you would, stay here I'll call the station and have things properly investigated.'

Alexus shook his head, 'No, I'll knock him out and have a look around the place.'

He looked towards the secretary who had started to rise trying to get away. Without trying Alexus short spell held him in place, with precision he found the carotid artery and pressed on them, his tapping foot counted, on the seventh number the man was unconscious. Doran felt he should say something about the unconventional methods the sorcerer has displayed to him so far but held his tongue, he wasn't hurting anybody? And it was efficient.

They walked back in silence to the manor and found a few servants shivering at their approach gathered at the door to the garden. Doran managed to get one of them to fetch the head of staff who listened with rapt attention and his eyes gleamed with the announcement of the death of his master. They were shown to his office and asked if they needed anything, they refused.

The investigator got to talking on the telephone, the detective looked around the office of a man proclaimed to be meant for greatness. Simple furnishings with the ripeness of red shades everywhere, the carpet intrigued him, baroque patterns were no longer the taste of many. He went to the table near the window that overlooked the front of the house, he could see the path they walked from, he turned the papers around and began to read, looking for nothing and anything at the same time.

He found a lot of data regarding the queen, so he decided he'd take those along. Then checked the drawers and forced some open, a journal of business transactions and another with just lists of names, one cupboard held the box of wedding bands. Both bride and groom now cold in blood.

There were jewels in another and he looked through to find anything extraordinary, some of them he felt faint pulses of change to his pneuma, magic items. Not uncommon for jewellers to sell them even to non sorcerers some who made a collection of them, which will never go to use under the sun.

Then he found a map and journal of the excavation the secretary talked about. He placed these into his coat and caught the eye of the investigator who had taken to silently observing his movements again. He could hear the police motors and carriages arriving and he stood up and adjusted his clothing. He was done for today.

The investigator rose languidly, green eyes sparkling with life. 'Would you like to have lunch with me tomorrow? There are some things I think we should still talk about.'

He looked meaningfully at Alexus who understood that was his condition to letting him take anything out of there.

'I heard the bakery in front of your home upgraded their menu. I'll come around by two.'

Alexus eyed the man like he would set him on fire, huffed and left without farewell.

In the study of his home, Alexus had taken out his own journal and jotted down all the information he could assimilate from the papers he found and he could feel rising apprehension from what he kept reading. Alexus thought about what the secretary said of Ernold, he insisted it was for the queen.

What did anyone have to offer a dead queen?

It came to him in a flash but shook his head in denial yet he slowly opened his mind up to it. There were fanatics of the queen everywhere and cults even the bureau couldn't cut down, it was a very strong hypothesis.

His stomach rumbled, all his thought processes fed on energy yet he didn't move an inch and continued. He checked the clock, 10:34 at 4 am he should be able to squeeze in an hour of sleep.

He braced up for the long night when she floated in without knocking, her nightgown gave an ethereal feel, she found his secret room again. With one hand she placed a long tray with an array of food on the stack of papers he was reading. 'Eat.'

She sounded cross but without complaining he dug in and saw her place a

jug of water on the side with a glass cup.

The governess left with a quiet drift in her wake.