The night had seeped into the land, surrounding House Ianus and the associated grounds in blackness. The electric lights gleamed in a few windows with only a few flickers and stutters. Most of the manor guests were either resting or deep in studies too entrenched in their work to pay much attention to the hour.

Adam sat, sunk deeply into his high wing back chair, lost in deep thought. He sensed the glimmers of a pattern in the chaos of his mind. There were too many things that were not connected, and yet he knew they were intertwined somehow. He just was unable to figure out how.

He kept pulling at a thread of thought, unwinding it to see where it went, and finding nothing. His Talent was heightened but without being able to see the pattern it was flaring wildly. Adam was deeply entrenched in studying every perceivable pattern in hopes that one would actually fit the clues he had before him.

It was entirely possible that they were unrelated; but his Talent told him there was more to each piece than was immediately obvious.

He sipped the brandy in the near-dark, the electric lights having flickered off briefly leaving only the fire to light the room. He wasn't worried about the lights. They would come back eventually. They always did. If his father had been here he would have seen to setting the manor up in a more reliable style, more so than he already had. But Marcus was gone and Adam had no head for such work. It was just one more way to remind himself that he wasn't the leader his father was.

He looked at the clues he had gathered one more time, pondering each. Finally he came to a decision. It was well past midnight but he decided that the trail had to be followed. Perhaps nothing would come of it but he didn't hold out hope for that.

He opened his eyes, stood and stretched. Carefully, using a nearby pair of forceps, he placed the letter he had received in an envelope. He hadn't taken this precaution when he had received it thinking it nothing more than a letter from a member of the Society on some minor matter. He corrected that mistake now thinking about the words in the letter as he did so.

...my husband stands with me now...

Impossible. Adam had seen the man's body. The dead could not be brought back to life; that was ridiculous fiction. There must be another explanation but he couldn't even begin to fathom what it would be.

He rang for his valet. The man kept the same hours as his master, thankfully, and he soon appeared.

“Ahh there you are Ren” said Adam as the man materialized in the next room. “I need you to take this envelope to the Lady Adriana and ask her if she would be so good as to look it over, without gloves, and see what she thinks.”

Ren was much larger than his master, but he had grown up almost alongside Adam. When Adam had moved here to the the Manor he had chosen Ren to be his personal body servant, at very handsome wages, and Ren was loathe to loose his post. He had known Adam all his life and knew just what he could and could not say to the man but he still hesitated; it was clear that his Master's mind was uneasy and that could be somewhat problematic for everyone around him if he was not careful. Adam tended to become obsessed.

“Sir, its past midnight. The Lady, indeed her whole household, will no doubt be abed.”

“Nonsense” said Adam with a wave of his hand. “She is undoubtedly at some soiree or another, it won't be winding down for at least two more hours.”

“ Sir, by the time I reach town, figure out which cursed ball she is at, get there, find her, it will be at least two hours. She will have left or very probably will not wish to be disturbed.”

Adam gave a sigh. Ren was right. He hated leaving a problem hanging though, not now that he had crafted a solution.

“Very well. See to it then at the first acceptable hour of the morning.”

Ren took the letter and turned to leave when Adam called out again.

“One moment” Adam called out. “Send a runner to Mr. Martin and ask him if he would be so good as to Breakfast with me on the morrow. And find Ben, he may be in the tunnels here at the house in research or any of a dozen other places, and leave a message for...wait. Nevermind.”

Adam paused as his thoughts ran ahead of him. Ren was used to his Master having fits of energy and waited patiently for Adam to sort out each step in his process.

“See that the message gets to the Lady as I previously said with the addendum that she should deliver a personal report once she has done so. You are also to send notices to Mr. Martin, Mr. Moshe, and Ms. Valervicus and ask that they join me at their earliest convenience; I will ensure I have breakfast laid out for all in case they wish to join for that, otherwise I hope to see them shortly after. If there are any questions just mention that the Society has need of their expertise.”

With that Adam closed his door, mind considerably eased. He had three separate puzzles, he was convinced they joined somehow, but he would not mention that. He would see what others thought. If they came to the same conclusion after independent investigation so much the better; but it was his experience that if he didn't cloud people's judgment with his own opinions things went so much smoother.

He briefly pondered paying a call on his Lady, warm arms awaited him there. But his mood was still consumed with the puzzle and he would be poor company. He did not wish to inflict himself upon her when he was in such a mood. Instead he sunk back into his chair, leaned his head back, and drifted off into a lonely sleep. Dawn would be here soon enough.

"Lady Adriana!"

It had been a pleasant evening. A grand affair had happened at the Pavelon Estate, and Adriana had been asked to attend by the young master of the house himself. Many of the upper-crust was there, but Lord Pavelon had only eyes for her. He entertained her for sure, but she was still not ready to settle down. Especially since she had still not found what she was looking for. What that quite was, she wasn't sure yet.

"Lady Adriana! I have a message for you!"

She had left the party shortly before it ended, claiming a need for sleep. Which was true. Long parties did tend to wear one out, especially with all the dancing. But it was a bit of an overwork of her talent that had exhausted her. Her glove had somehow become a token that Lord Pavelon had taken for himself. She had spent most of the evening avoiding touching objects, but she couldn't avoid it forever. Luckily her talent had chosen not to reveal too much about the objects she was touching. A snippet here about how the servants resented their master, how one of the ladies had spent some time with someone not her husband...

"Lady Adriana! Please wake up!"

"I am awake!" Adriana yelled, throwing the blankets from her person. She walked over to the door of her room and opened it. "What is so urgent that you had to wake me at this hour?" She glared at the servant, who was not alone. She recognized the man behind him as Ren, personal manservant to the head of Ianus Congreatio.

"You have a message from this gentleman, My Lady. I am sorry that we woke you." The servant bowed and walked off.

"Message from my master. He wishes to have you inspect this, without your gloves on. He wishes for a personal report at the earliest convenience." Rem handed Adriana an already opened envelope and she looked at it.

"Tell your master I will personally come over to the mansion myself once I have had a chance to look it over and dress." Adriana flipped the letter over in her hands, getting impressions of the woman who had held it once.

"Till then Lady Láska." Rem bowed and left. Adriana closed the door to her room and went to sit on her lounge. It was not uncommon for Adam to ask such favors of her. She was a part of the Society, and had offered her talents willingly. She looked at the envelope and focused. Impressions of a lady surgeon. An odd profession in their time, but not uncommon. This same woman was taking walks in the woods at night, but she looked agitated. She paused and pulled out the letter to read it.

"Adam,

My husband never left me, though his life was unexpectedly cut short. He stands beside me once more, beautiful and strong. How can I fear…he is my soulmate. And yet I do fear. How do I answer him?

Isabau D'allende"

Adriana knew the name. Vaguely. She remembered reading of Mr. D'allende's sudden end in the paper, as she did. So, the woman she was seeing impressions of was Isabau. She also realized there was a secondary impression on the letter. Faint. She realized it was probably Adam. Once he realized that he needed to pass off something to Adriana, he usually handled it with forceps. Adriana understood why. Secrets were secrets for a reason. It was the same reason she told no one of why she wore gloves all the time.

She rang a little bell, and the servant from earlier entered. "My Lady?"

"Have the carriage ready. I am needed at the House Were. Also bring me some stationary." The servant nodded, bowed and left. Adriana strode over to her wardrobe and opened it. She picked out a rather somber looking black skirt, white shirt and a velvet over jacket. She set to work first on her hair, braiding it and pinning it up, and then dressed herself. She did call for assistance with her undergarments, which took several minutes. After she finished getting dressed she walked out of her room and then outside. She found the carriage ready for her and she smiled. Once in the carriage, she pulled out the stationary set she had been given and set to work on her report for Adam, as the carriage took off towards the House Ianus.

Groggily, Johanna awoke from her slumber, and realized she had fallen asleep at her desk again, as dried spit clung to the corner of her mouth, she earnestly brushed it away. Her head pounded angrily, like a marching drum, she groaned inwardly as she placed a hand upon her brow. It was hot and feverish, as if she had a gone for a run.
Rising from her chair, Johanna turned to face a wooden chest that sat at the foot of her bed, and withdrew a simple forest green, button down dress, a petticoat, a fresh pair of undergarments and proceeded to dress herself. Her body ached each morning from the hard work of the previous night. Johanna had come to House Ianus only a month ago, and she had settled in splendidly. She mostly kept to herself, and spoke to no one, except the servants when she needed something.
Johanna preferred it that way, she avoided the daily gossip, and worries of the human mind, and found solace in the mazes of gardens and greenhouses that decorated the grounds. She had taken a liking to rising early each morning, before four o'clock, and headed into the gardens to begin her work. Currently, Johanna had tidied up the greenhouses, pruning the plants, assuming the role of parental garden keeper more-or-less.

The morning air was brisk, and smelled faintly of jasmine and honeysuckle, as she made her way across a cobblestone path headed to her favorite garden. The entrance to the garden beheld an ivy-covered arch, with morning glories as large as ones hand. It was within that drew her in, and upon entering she smiled. A quaint pond filled with goldfish swam merrily under lily pads next to a bubbling fountain, a sculpted marble piece of a dancing, flute-playing Pan; the mischievous faun.
At her hip, Johanna carried with her, a chaletaine of useful items, a pair of scissors, a pincushion with a few needles, a spool of black thread, a pair of buckskin leather gloves, pruning shears, three green, dyed leather pouches containing herbs, all of these were very useful to her, and she preferred to keep them within easy reach.

Johanna neared a corner of the garden wall and knelt down, and drew out her pruning shears. Carefully, with a guided hand, Johanna began to cut lavender, placing it in a bundle beside her. Every morning she had a ritual, Johanna would journey to every garden, at least once a day, and collect samples for her tinctures. Most of the time, she would bring a book along to read, and nestle herself amongst the flowers and buzzing bees; that or a journal, one which she kept of notes and sketches of her work.
Today she left those things behind and focused on collecting lavender, chamomile, rosemary, peppermint and thyme. Johanna understood that certain plants possessed benefits for humans; peppermint tea could ease an upset stomach or indigestion, chamomile relaxed the body, and induced sleepiness, lavender provided stress relief. She continued happily, collecting her herbs as she went, losing herself in her work.

Hours must have passed for when Johanna looked up again, she startled at the sight of one of the groundsmen, he extended a letter to her which she unfolded and read immediately.
"Ms. Valerivicus, the master of the house invites you to join him, and the others for breakfast. He wishes to speak with you, will you come inside?" Queried the servant.

"Ah! Yes of course. Do you know the time?" Johanna asked as she rose from the dirt in which she knelt, gathering her bundle of herbs against her chest, Johanna began her walk back to the manor, the manservant accompanying her.

"Yes the time is ten minutes past nine. Shall I inform the Master that you will be joining him?"

"If you so desire, I will be in shortly to see him." Johanna muttered tiredly, her hands ached from pulling out the new weeds that had grown in. With that, the manservant and Johanna parted ways. She started off to her bedroom, burying her nose into the bundle of fresh herbs.
Her room was small, but it was enough for Johanna to conduct her research, and provided plenty of privacy. Generally she kept her door shut and locked, but she would only be in here momentarily. Quickly, she separated all of the herbs she had collected from this mornings round, and tied them with thread in bundles, and hung the lavender stalks up on a nail she had fastened to dry.
Johanna dipped her hands into the water basin that sat next to her bed, and rinsed off the mud from her fingers, digging out any dirt that had collected under her nails. With haste, Johanna left her room and headed out to meet with the master of the house, Adam. As her boots padded down the hallway, Johanna smoothed her hair into place, well aware that she must look rather disorderly in her unkempt appearance, she cared not.
Traversing the grounds of House Ianus took time, minutes to get anywhere. A walk from her room to the gardens outdoor took at least ten minutes, yet this time she was going to the dining hall, where breakfast, luncheons and light dinners were provided. She arrived shortly after, and pushed open the heavy wooden door, instantly, she spotted the master of the house, Adam.

"Good morning, Sir. I received your letter, and came as quickly as my feet would carry me." Her husky voice filled the room, as she approached the large table, and pulled a seat out for herself. Johanna's silvery eyes sparkled brightly from the sunshine that filtered into the room, her mahogany hair hung in loose ringlets about her face, while her pinned bun looked askew, hinting to her work outside.

There was a distinct sound, a soft melody drifted through the maze of rooms underneath the manor from the long-case clock at the foot of the stairs, foretelling the passing of another hour of the night, or day, whichever was present at the time. It was difficult to discern the time of day by the rays of the sun, since the few that do managed to make their way through the rooms and halls of the Ianus Congreatio Manor are paled by the electric light and lit candles scattered around the underground caverns. A series of inter-connected rooms constituted the basement of the manor, which were for the most part all meant for storage: mystic artifacts, ancient tomes of knowledge and bags of onions occupied the first few rooms, after which it gave way to the sprawl of libraries, laboratories and workshops made for the odd occupants of the manor.

It was one in one of those Laboratories, whose entire corner was transformed into a hastily built library compiled of certain books of interest pilfered from the entire underground, that Ben heard the clock's distinct song and forced himself to immediately stop his scribbling and look down at his own golden pocket-watch. He noted the time, which was four in the morning, and carried onward with his intense scribbling. It was yet another cryptic text of Alchemical natural, a quite fascinating and utterly maddening retelling of a story involving dragons and their journey to share an egg between the three of them. The text was copied from an earlier entry supposedly written by a Persian scholar, a source Ben found hard to identify and for good reason - the art was of ill-repute and at the same time highly prized, which forced masters to mask the knowledge they intended to pass down the ages. However, this was not such a case of hidden wisdom - the document was a clear forgery, a fact Ben came to accept when he noticed a mention of leprechauns in the myth. He tossed the book at the top of the pile at the entrance to the room, which was beginning to stack alarmingly high. He admitted many books of Alchemy were rubbish, pure fiction and lazy attempts at deceiving wealthy socialites pretending to be wizards, but he did not expect to find so many under the manor.

A short chirping of the clock alerted Ben that fifteen more minutes had passed since the last, and reminded him of the experiment he was currently overseeing. In an effort to distill an ounce of gold, a combination of mercury, sulfur and nitrate, wrought together in a complex series of events, was slowly simmering in a tall glass flask. Ben examined the flask, writing down his own observations and scribbling underneath the very possibility of the experiment - failure. There were better ways of making gold - chiefly of which Ben had already mastered and used to their utmost effectiveness - but there was no better way of testing the credibility of an author in the art of Alchemy. Besides the gold, Ben made his own experimentation with materials, some of which delved into his other, less respectable, occupation.

The long clock sang a long tune once again and Ben abruptly turned away from his work and left the laboratory. He dragged his feet across the stone floor and stopped at a collection of personal items arranged on a wooden crate in meticulous order. Ben began unfolding some of them, winding open his Tefilim, unwrapping of Talit, and recalling the prayers from the back of his mind. He had memorized them all since he was a youth, many hours well spent on the love of god and himself. He prayed for the first prayer of that day, the appearance of the sky and a brand new day. He did that for an hour, reciting the words of power one by one with pride and faith in his heart.

*

There was no gold, which proved to be a disappointment for Ben. He had hoped Fadur al-Abd would be an example to draw from in his studies of the forbidden art, but in the end his methods of producing gold were ineffective. There was still some hope, for some material in his work was salvageable, but most of it was rubbish - more symbolism copied from elsewhere, the true origins yet remain unknown. He separated the relevant notes from the general rubbish of the Egyptian scholar and threw the academic garbage on top of the pile of the already tall pile of fakes and forgeries. It was then that he noticed a man standing at the entrance, waiting to be acknowledged. It was Adam's personal servant, a large fellow by the name of Ren.

"Pardon the mess", Ben immediately called out the pile of rubbish into question, "but I was just setting in. What is it?".

"Sir, the master of the house wishes you to join him upstairs for breakfast", the butler announced plainly.

"I could do with a strong cup of Sumatran Coffee", Ben's tired expression lightened up. He straightened his back and glanced at his work, making sure none of it would burn the whole room before leaving.

Ben strode through the corridors and rooms underground until he went up the stairway, through yet another maze of rooms and hallways and met his host at the dining hall, a place he seldom visited. It was a great temptation and irritation for Ben, a room filled with hungry gentlemen eating food he could never touch.

"Greetings to you, my dear host. I came at the end of my prayers. What is on your mind?".

Adam woke with the dawn, as per his usual. The room was cold, the fire having gone to naught but embers, and gray light was seeping through the windows making it seem even colder. He wasn't sure how much sleep he had had, not much that was certain.

Ren had a bowl of steaming hot water ready right on time and Adam rattled off a long set of instructions to his valet then quickly set to his morning ablutions. Dressed, pressed, and finally alert Adam headed downstairs. He wore a well tailored suit, he always wore a well tailored suit, but without the formality of an intricately tied cravat he looked somehow lazy; relaxed. He wasn't of course, he was still running scenarios of probability in his mind as he thought over the day's problems. He had a few things he had to do still before breakfast and set to them with vim and vigor. There was a lot to do and not a lot of time, but having a plan in place and actually in action made him feel infinitely better.

He usually took breakfast in his rooms, as Master of the society he had a bit more comfort and space than the other members, but since he invited others he didn't wish them in his private quarters. He had the dining hall emptied so he could have privacy as he talked with the few members he had invited to join him. Other non-invited members, what few chose to breakfast here, were provided meals in a smaller salon off the main dining hall. He wasn't even sure how many would show up for breakfast, but he suspected they would all trickle in eventually; he had chosen a late breakfast time just for such an eventuality. He hated to allow his guests to go hungry and he wanted to allow them plenty of time to accomplish whatever they needed to before attending the meeting.

The table he chose was small for such a large dining hall, but there were other tables dotting the room, usually occupied by other members. And the table was plenty big enough for the gathering he had called. He felt a spur of emptiness as he strolled into the silent room but that was soon banished as servants descended and laid the table. Boiled eggs, crispy fried fish, toast, butter, jam, apple tarts, pickled vegetables, olives, and a plate of pale yellow cheese soon filled the table. This was followed by a large pot of very hot coffee and a carafe of very chilled milk. Adam had also ordered croissants for the the occasion, they were a challenge to make but one of the cooks on staff had lived and worked in Paris for a time and had learned. She had turned out rich, buttery, fluffy masterpieces today and Adam almost drooled.

He was sitting alone at the head of the table as he dug into the extensive breakfast, but he did not remain alone for long. When he spotted Johanna approaching Adam stood politely. Ben was not far on her heels and both strolled into the room.

“Ahh, Miss Johanna, Ben, Please join me” said Adam with a smile at the other two, once he had swallowed his mouthful of food. “I'm afraid I rather discourteously started without you but please feel free to make up for lost time. You may sit where you so choose.”

He waved his hand at the table which was set for 5, obviously others were invited that had yet to arrive. Adam confirmed this with his next comment.

“It is my hope others will be joining us soon. I would prefer to wait to discuss the more serious matters until they do so.”

He nodded at Ben once before continuing.

“I was uncertain if you would have the time to join us Ben but I took the liberty of ordering a rather chatty Jewish woman to cook a proper breakfast for you and bring it in from town. I asked her to prepare such as what might be needed by a man who had spent a night in intense study. She seemed...well...rather too delighted. I have no idea what she brought but she had enough containers for at least 3 breakfasts. I'm a little afraid actually.”

While he was talking he had gestured to one of the servants as almost as soon as he finished a pair of servants returned laden with two large baskets of food, each wrapped in a blanket to help preserve the proper temperature, which they carefully set on the end of the table for Ben to peruse.

“I hope there is something acceptable within” Adam said. He waited for Johanna to sit before he himself sat down and returned to his own breakfast of croissant, fried fish, vegetables, and coffee.

He continued talking once he had settled.

“There have been some intriguing problems in the city of late, and I am uncertain if they are society problems or not, however I would run them by you and see what your own opinions on the matter are. For now though take time to refresh yourselves with food or drink as desired. The servants will fetch tea or anything else I might have forgotten if you wish.”

If the other's did not arrive by the time Adam finished his meal he would proceed as if they were not attending: he sincerely hoped that would not be the case however.

Her hands shook in the cool morning air, the blue and pink light of dawn heralding a beautiful day to come. Tired fingers, slick with grease and grime and blood fumbled with the wire, almost dropping her makeshift window-latch-pick to the flagstones below. Shay cursed under her breath, used one hand to steady the other, slipped the pick between the window frames and slid sideways, heard the latch click open inside. She sighed with relief, pocketed the pick and shoved the window up with a long, painful groan, wood scraping over wood. Her legs burned as she stepped from the roof through the window, her foot landing on a small metal tray set across high-piled, plush carpet with a soft thump. She braced herself, bent to clear the window, and sucked a breath between her teeth as the wound on her side flared with new, hot pain.

Shay kicked her shoes off onto the tray, clumps of mud and clay and moss collecting in the corners, then staggered over to the bellpull in her room, giving the rope a few sharp, hard pulls. That Herculean task accomplished, she fell heavily into a carved wooden armchair, her eyes half-focused, hair plastered to her face, breath coming in hard, fast pulls. Distantly, she fancied she could hear the bell clatter. She certainly could hear as feet hurried up the wooden steps outside her door, the almost-hesitant knock.

“Come in,” Shay said, her voice more a bark than anything else.

“Miss Haimes!” A maid, surely not yet twenty, and one whose name Shay hadn’t learned said, “My, but you’re in a state. Shall I fetch a doctor from the-“

“No, no,” Shay said, waving one hand. The other wrapped around her side, holding her shirt hard against her ribs, “I need…ah…I need several yards of boiled linen bandage and…mm…” Her eyes squeezed shut, and a fresher stain joined the ones already on that side of her shirt, “A gauze pad, and quite a lot of strong liquor, nothing expensive, but strong as you can find. And you’re not to tell…” She snapped her fingers, then waved her hand again, “Whatever the head of household’s name is, you’re not to tell them why. Make something up if he asks.”

“Miss Haimes, I really don’t think-“ the maid began.

“Now, if you please,” Shay said. She stood with another groan, unwrapped her arm from her side and started to undo the buttons on her shirt, peeling the sweat-soaked fabric away. She heard the maid dither, even as she turned away, but Shay sighed with relief as the woman stepped back through the door and down the hall.

Shay’s fingers fumbled as she finished undoing her shirt, and the fabric pulled uncomfortably around the wound in her side as she pulled the garment off. She turned to look at the wound in a mirror, dipping the corner of her shirt in her water basin and using the fabric to dab away some of the grime around the wound. She let out a small sigh of relief - small, shallow, and not very long. Bandages would do - stitches certainly would hurt nothing, but the cut wasn’t in a good position for her to do the job herself, and Shay had no interest in waking the town’s surgeon or having to explain herself. Still, superficial wounds bleed as much as their deeper counterparts and a trail of red already marked her fair skin. She folded her shirt, pressed the bundle against her side, and despite herself, started to pace back and forth across the room, her eyes focused on the middle distance, thoughts racing through her head.

The man had a genuine talent, Shay though as she paced, Why set up the tell-your-fortune-for-a-crown act in the town square? Why pretend to have a different skill? Unless…

A knock at Shay’s door pulled her mind off the tracks she’d begun to carve, and she walked over to the door, pulling it open a crack. She leaned over, one blue eye peering through, caught the worried face of the maid she’d summoned, a large wooden tray held in front of her with the things she’d asked for. With a sound of relief, Shay pulled the door open, ushered her in. The girl scurried in, and Shay closed the door behind her, the felt-lined doorframe neatly cutting off all sound from the corridor. Shay heard the girl put her tray down on the desk behind her.

“Just as you asked, Ma’am,” the maid said with a curtsy, “I also brought some pins.”

“Good thinking,” Shay said, and peeled her shirt away from the wound on her side. She tossed the bloodied fabric down onto a chair, made her way over to the tray, “Could you arrange to have that burned for me, please?”

“Of…of course,” the maid said, clearly nonplussed, “Miss Haimes, would you like some help?” She continued, as Shay nearly spilled the bottle of spirits.

“I…” Shay replied, then braced herself on the desk, shaking her head, “…Yes, I think…that’s very kind of you.”

The maid curtsied again, then walked over to the desk. Small, competent hands held the gauze pad over the bottle, upended the liquor, let the liquid soak into the fabric for a moment. She set the bottle down, stepped over to Shay.

“You’ll want to lift your arm,” the maid said, “And this isn’t going to feel very good.”

“Mm,” Shay said, doing as the maid asked, “And what is your name?”

“Anna, ma’am,” the maid replied, shifting a little so that Shay could put put the weight of her arm on her shoulder, “Take a deep breath for me.”

Shay pulled in a breath, then hissed like the mother of all angry cats as Anna pressed the liquor-soaked pad against her side. Her hiss turned into a stream of curse words first in English, then graduating to German before she ran out of breath, having to pull in another long, slow lungful of air. This made the wound stretch, and as Anna applied a second compression of liquor-soaked gauze, Shay’s cursing switched to the fluid syllables of Arabic. Anna, for her part, blushed a little, but didn’t flinch or back away. Shay decided that she might like this girl.

“That should do for now,” Anna said, then stepped away from Shay, “And it’s stopped bleeding - at least for the moment. Now, you look a fright - you’ll need to have a bath if you don’t want anyone to know what you’ve been up to this evening. And,” Anna said, forestalling Shay’s next question, “We’ll have to do this again. Now, I’ll draw you a bath, and get rid of your shirt while you’re in there, all right?”

Shay nodded, and Anna extricated herself from the older woman’s arm, making her way to the room’s attached bathroom and its huge copper tub. Shay heard water splashing a moment later, then the sound of small bottles being opened. Scents of jasmine and orange blossom drifted on wisps of steam a minute later, and she smiled to herself. Even when tending to someone with a knife wound, Ianus Manor’s staff ensured the baths would smell nice.

While the tub filled, Shay began to undress, moving carefully. She pulled her socks off, left them piled by the chair she’d sat in earlier, then wrapped one arm around her side, untucking the long strip of silk around her chest from itself, gently unwrapping first one layer, then another. Her small, high breasts had never truly been a liability without more traditional undergarments, but the nights could still be cool, and she preferred the layering. Finally, she shucked out of the trousers she’d worn that evening and noted, with a hint of displeasure, that one knee was very nearly worn through. Another set of clothes ruined, but there was no help for that. She would just have to talk to her dressmaker - and tailor - and have another set made.

The sound of water trickled, then stopped as Shay wrapped a robe around herself. Anna walked back into the room, Shay’s bloody shirt still under one arm.

“You’ll want to be careful, Miss Haimes,” Anna said, “Try not to pull on the wound too much. I’ll come help you do your hair after I’ve gotten rid of this, shall I?”

“Thank you, Anna, yes,” Shay said. Anna curtsied, then made her way back through the door, closing it quietly behind her.

Shay unwrapped herself from her robe, then stepped into her bath. Steaming water, just on the knife-edge of being too hot, washed over her as she lowered herself, and for a moment she felt as though all her sins were being washed away. She leaned back, resting her head against a towel placed at exactly the right point to cradle her head, and sighed as the water filled her with warmth, stole away some of her tension, relaxed her muscles. And as good as the water felt, the steam smelled just as lovely, and in a flight of fancy Shay wondered if she might arrange to have Anna as her personal attendant.

Everything in her body protested as she sat up, but Shay knew she couldn’t simply lounge forever. Anna was right, she did look a mess - her hair plastered to her head with sweat and something sticky, her skin blotched with the moss from rooftops, grease from cartwheels, her own blood, her face dirty with ash and streaked with grime. Shay reached over to a small table beside the bath, picked up a bar of soap and a small luffa, and went about scrubbing the evening’s adventures off her body, if not her mind.

Before she could get entirely wrapped around her own thoughts, Anna knocked, then stepped back into Shay’s room. This time she brought an armload of towels. The girl stepped into Shay’s bathroom, gave a satisfactory nod.

“You look nearly human, Miss Haimes,” Anna said, “But if you want the truth, I saw Mr. Ren coming this way, and he looked like he might be on a mission. We should get you dried off and bandaged and into a nightgown before he gets here, if you want to keep him from being suspicious.” Shay noted that Anna, so far, hadn’t asked why Shay might not want to arouse the head-of-household’s suspicion, and she decided that she really did like this blonde-haired young woman.

“Are you always so accommodating to your guests?” Shay said, accepting Anna’s help to stand and wrap a dry, fluffy towel around her waist.

Anna just smiled, “Bend forward for me, Miss Haimes. Let’s get your hair drying.”

Shay did as asked, and soon the pair were back in the bedroom. After another round of alcohol-soaked gauze applied to the wound on her side, Anna declared the site satisfactorily clean, and the pair worked in occasionally-awkward movements to wrap linen bandages around the cut, a pair of bright pins holding the bandage in place. The day had brightened almost to full morning as Shay pulled a nightdress over her head and wrapped a light blue robe around herself, not an instant before a polite knock came at the door.

“Ah, Anna,” Ren said as the young woman opened the door, “I hadn’t realized you were calling on Miss Haimes this early.”

“Insomnia,” Shay said from her place a little further in the room, “Anna has been kind enough to draw a bath, bring me warm milk, and tell me fairy stories in an effort to help me sleep. Now, what can I do for you, Mr. Ren?”

The butler looked at the two women, then seemed to shrug without moving a muscle, “The Master should like your attendance at breakfast this morning in the upstairs dining room. At your convenience, but several others from the Society have been asked as well. Shall I tell him you plan to attend?”

“Yes, please,” Shay said, “I’ll be there presently.”

Ren nodded, bowed, and backed out of the door, pulling it tight shut after him. Shay sat in a chair, leaned her head back, ran her hand over her face.

“I suppose I’ll join Ben with that coffee concoction he has the kitchens brew up,” Shay said, “Whatever is in that, you certainly don’t need sleep for a few hours afterward.”

“I’m sure you’ll get a chance to rest tonight,” Anna said, “Now, let’s get you dressed. You shouldn’t keep Mr. Ware waiting.”

The carriage ride was not long by any means, but it was certainly bumpy. Adriana frowned as another spot of ink got on the parchment she was writing on. However, it was her own fault for choosing to write this report on the go. She looked over the parchment several times and then folded it and tucked it in an envelope. She saw no point in sealing it, and simply tucked it away in her jacket, right next to the other letter.

She pulled back on her gloves and looked out the window. Her family's estate was on the rather outskirts of town, so it would take a little bit longer to get to House Ianus. Of course her parents had no idea why she spent so much time there, rather than with suitors, but they did not bother asking after what had happened a month ago.

She had gotten frustrated with them inquiring into her actions at House Ianus and had challenged her own father to a duel. If she won, which she did, they were not longer permitted to ask about her actions. If she lost, which she did not, they would have full disclosure into what was going on in her life. However, fencing was never her father's strong suit, so she won with ease.

This did mean that tensions were high at the Láska estate. There was pressure on all sides for Adriana to make a good match, and settle down. She was not fond of the idea, especially after finding out that several suitors that had been chosen for her were carrying on lavish affairs with other ladies. There were days she disliked her power.

"My lady, we have arrived at House Ianus. Shall I fetch you later?" The driver said. Adriana looked up, and smiled. They had indeed arrived at the gates of the mansion. She opened the door and stretched a bit.

"Inform my parents I will be spending the night. I will send word over when I wish to come home. I do not know how long I will be needed here." Adriana picked up a bag, which had a change of clothing in it. She was prepared just in case she was needed to stay longer than just for the breakfast meeting. It was also a very nice excuse to get out of the house for a day or so.

"I will my lady. Have a good day." The carriage driver tipped his hat and once Adriana was clear of the carriage, he whipped the reins and took off. Adriana sighed and picked up her bag and headed for the mansion. Once inside the gates, she walked up to the grand doors and pulled the bell. After a few minutes, one of the servants showed up.

"Ah, Lady Láska, you are expected. The master has breakfast laid out for his guests, and is expecting you in the large dining hall." The servant said and bowed.

"Guests you say? I guess I was not the only one summoned for this task then. Thank you. I know my way from here. May I request that you take this bag to my usual guest room?" Adriana looked at the servant and offered him a smile.

"Of course my lady." The servant took Adriana's bag and walked off. She picked up the hem of her skirt and headed to the dining hall.

"I believe I was summoned? Good morning Master Were, Miss Haimes, Miss Valerivicus, and Mr. Loew." Adriana offered a curtsy to her host before taking a seat. She poured herself a cup of tea and took a long sip. "I do have that report for you, when you are ready for it Master Were," she said before taking another long sip of her tea. She looked around the room at the other members and paused, recollecting who each was, and what she knew of them.

"I thank you, Adam. You are an exemplary host. However, coffee will suffice for now".

Ben was surprised with the great lengths his host had gone to accommodate his needs, and greatly appreciated the effort, but he could not touch the freshly baked buns, egg muffins or any other deliciously-looking foodstuff specially prepared for him on the menu. He dared not admit it to his host, especially after all of the trouble he went through to serve him the proper breakfast, but he couldn't touch the food. Even if it had been made by someone Ben personally knew, he would not have taken a single bite if he didn't speak with him before. There could be no doubt as to the way the food was prepared or the origin of the ingredients, but mentioning that would have meant Ben did not trust his host. Such was not the case, but Ben could not have eaten of the food he was served regardless. Coffee, on the other hand, is a favorite of Ben's - the beans were just that - beans, and there was no fear in drinking a cup made from them. Sumatran-bound coffee was one of his favorites, and he had made sure in the past that it did not go through unnecessary flavor-changing treatments.

Moving past that unpleasantness, Ben noticed the guests which came at the meeting place. He noticed the dining hall was cleared of anyone else before they were invited to meet with their host, and that it had made for a curious incident. He could not imagine why he, of all people, would have been invited to such a meeting while others with real and true abilities beyond the perception of simple mortal men sat at his side. A lady sat near Adam, Johanna her birth name, a peculiar woman with good taste. She ate with gentle and careful movements, artfully forming an inciting view of ladylike behavior and beauty. Ben waited for his coffee patiently in the meanwhile.

A lady soon entered the room, one with more renown than the lady Johanna. Lady Laska, who was notorious for her rebellious spirit, gracefully entered the room. She mentioned a report, which raised the suspicion and curiosity of Ben even further.

"Such a pleasant morning, for all of us to dine together, but I am ashamed - I do not know the reason for our gathering. May our dear host educate his guests as to the nature of our meeting? It seems to be it may not be all pleasantries, but contain some aspect of abnormal occurrences. Some report comes to mind".

After seating herself next to Adam on the left side of the table, they were joined by a curious man by the name of Ben Loew. She hadn't seen him around the grounds of the manor, and Johanna understood that he preferred to lurk below in the vast caverns that were dotted with libraries filled with ancient tomes, and scrolls containing mysterious pieces of information regarding psychic talents and other peculiar events in history; alchemy labs, along with underground aboretums that grew moss, fungus grown in Petri dishes, lichens, and other unique plants that liked the dark.
Johanna silently vowed that she would eventually travel beneath the manor, as she only had a few times taking the spiral staircase down below to the caverns.

"Thank you kindly, I did not expect such a bountiful, and hearty breakfast to be awaiting us." She addressed Adam in a low, polite voice, so as not to draw attention to herself. In truth, Johanna was famished from the tiring, yet important work she was conducting in the gardens.

Delicate hands grasped a slice of toast, and she proceeded to butter, and spread jelly upon the warm bread; once finished, she set it aside, her hands only slightly trembling from the sore muscles. Johanna turned her attention to one of the house servants along the far wall and beckoned to one of them.

"My dear friend, will you be a dashing fellow and bring me a cup of lavender tea?"

Johanna naturally kept her voice low, as it was impolite for a lady to yell, or be excessively loud. It was a skill that forced people to listen, if they wanted to hear what she had to say. After instructing the young maid how to prepare it, she pressed into the waiting hand of the meek servant girl, a ball of rolled lavender in a silken satchel. With that, the girl carried on with her task, and Johanna returned to her breakfast.

She kept quiet thereafter, waiting patiently for the others to arrive and surely they did. The next one to present themselves was a trivial, young girl, certainly younger than Johanna herself by a few years, entered the dining hall, awarding everyone a polite introduction, a good morning and hello. Suddenly, Johanna recalled her name to be Adrianna, or something of the sort; she continued on with her breakfast of toast, an apple, a croissant and a plentiful amount of scrambled eggs dusted with salt, black pepper, and a special pinch of cayenne pepper as well. Adam had not yet informed them of why exactly they were here, and that is what Johanna wished to hear. She watched the lady with the dark, braided hair, with curious eyes, also, Johanna had not but seen this woman once before in the manor. Her anti-social behavior was not out of spite, or dislike of the people whom inhabited the manor; rather, her seemingly quiet behavior was a mask for observing others, in all politeness of course.
Ever since Greta became her governess, at the age of 12, Johanna had to learn lessons of etiquette to become a proper, an presentable woman in the future; she even took a liking to needlework as a way to relax her worried mind, and put her hands to work. She finished her meal and placed both knife and fork across the plate and pushed it away.
The servant she had called for finally returned to the dining hall carrying a piping hot cup of tea, upon a small, simple silver tray, along with cream and sugar, even a porcelain teapot in case she desired more. The young maid set the tray down gingerly in front of Johanna and removed her empty plate, leaving her to fill her cup of tea. She chose to avoid the cream and sugar, for she favored the plachant taste of lavender on her tongue. Her dark lashes lowered as she looked into her teacup and blew gently upon the steaming liquid, careful not to splatter it on herself. Her attention was suddenly drawn to Ben once more as he mentioned to Adam, what they were all truly doing here. She could only raise an eyebrow in a mused manner.

Adam took the report that was handed him in silence, extending his hand gracefully to the Lady indicating she should join them and partake of whatever interested her. He had merely shrugged, internally, at Ben. He had fulfilled his duties, what the other man chose to do was up to him.

Instead Adam read the report in silence, tallying up the extreme lack of anything unexpected. Which was, in itself, something of a concern. So he had been right, there were three problems to be addressed. He hoped his next theory, that all were connected, was incorrect but the only way to tell was to investigate the issues.

He finished his breakfast with deliberate care, waited for the servants to remove his plate, poured another cup of coffee, he too enjoyed the darkly bitter drink, and leaned back in his chair.

“Well it seems as if all who intended to come are now here” he said without further preamble.

He cast his eyes about the room which for all appearances seemed empty. He preferred to have this discussion out of the ears of the servants; as well trained as they were that did not always prevent gossip. Much of the time it was harmless, but he would rather not test that today. He heightened his Talent to aid him in seeking out discrepancies in the patterns around him, there were patterns in all things after all, light, sound, scent, even psychic energy had patterns which he could “see” if he put his Talent to it.

“Forgive me a moment” he said politely and strode to the window. Opening the shutters he spoke to someone outside, a muffled response was all that could be heard as Adam re-directed the gardener to tend other areas at this moment. He then strode to a nearby door, shooing the servants away, and returned.

“I prefer an overabundance of caution” he said simply as he returned to his chair.

“Now then it seems as if three separate issues have come to my attention that require investigation. Some seem, on the surface, to be unimportant, and I sincerely hope that they are. The other is disconcerting. I would ask your opinions, as well as your assistance in investigating them.”

He did not mention his concerns, what he believed the incidents meant, or his belief that they were all connected. He wanted to see what conclusions the others drew without his influence.

“As you know the society investigates and handles fraudulent claims of psychic or paranormal abilities. What you may or may not know is that we also investigate darker issues that are possibly genuinely psychical in nature. Things the police and others lack the ability to handle. It is that category that we are dealing with this day.”

“First report comes across my desk from the stews, the slums and poorer districts of our fair city. As you know many of those who dwell there are beneath the notice of the police and those who may give them any help. So there is nothing defined on this save what my “eyes and ears” have reported back to me.”

“It seems that people, men actually, are disappearing from these areas. What makes this particularly interesting is that all have several things in common: male, believed to be between the ages of 25-35, physically very healthy and fit, and perceived to -most- women to be considered handsome. In fact many made their living off their looks. So far 7 have gone missing in the last month.”
“People seem reluctant to talk about these disappearances; even my eyes and ears have had trouble finding out details; just that the men vanished over night, always at night...they were seen at the beginning of the night and never again. And that no trace of them was ever found, no bodies washed up in the river or left in the trash heaps, no clothing left behind, nothing.”

“Now it is possible they were collected for certain clientele as exclusive male courtesans” Adam was one of the few people who admitted the trade in male flesh was just as prevalent, though a bit more secretive, than the trade in female flesh. After all high-born ladies often got as bored in their formal pairings as the gentlemen did. “And if that were the case they will turn up somewhere. Or we could have run of the mill killer on our hands; specific in his or her tastes but nothing particularly out of the ordinary. Or a Talented individual seeking out these types for things that can only be guessed at. There is much left unfinished in this pattern.”

He laid a large stack of papers on the table next to him as he finished, the reports and sketches dealing with this particular incident. He would hand them off to whomever chose to take up this part of the investigation. His eyes and ears, his network of spies and informants, were well paid for their information and gave him detailed reports but in this case the pickings were slim. They would have their work cut out for them. He was lucky enough that he had managed to get sketches of the missing men. And it was not only the lack of information that bothered Adam, his eyes and ears were all businessmen (and women). Their business was information. Adam paid them well but if someone paid them better they would sell their information to whoever paid the most. Adam kept wondering if they had found another buyer.

“Next is something brought to me by some of the local hunters.” Adam bought wild game and other things from those who made their living off the land. In return he was privy to a plethora of information on the lands around the city. Most of it was useless but this one was on the weird side and bore investigating.

“It seems that a rabid bear is hunting the forests around the city. At least that is the theory most are working on. It seems that larger game, boars, deer, etc, are being killed and left in the forest. They are ripped open and only the hearts removed. That seems far to specific for any typical wild animal, much less a rabid one. Whether the hearts are eaten, collected, or any other myriad of options is unknown”

He put a much smaller stack of papers next to the larger one, this one had even less to go on because all he had were vague hunter's reports and a map with the dead animal findings marked on it.

“Finally it seems one of our long standing members has somewhat of an odd issue. Several days ago I received a missive from the Lady Isabeau D'Allende. She, and her husband while he lived, were long time members in good standing. Both had Talents that aided them in medicine and medical research, indeed the Lady herself is a very gifted doctor and a very modern thinking one in many ways. She also has some more archaic ideas and is a devoted student of Alchemy and the quest for THE panacea. The pair worked devotedly researching this ideal medicine together; during which time they discovered many other more mundane things that were, in their way, very remarkable.

Her husband was killed in a lab accident about 6 months ago; and I should clarify that he was quite dead. I was called in myself when it happened and can vouch for that fact. Indeed there were...pieces...scattered about the lab such that I suspect cleaning it was quite cumbersome. Additionally I know Lady Isabeau very well; she is not known for flights of fancy. Given those statements I will pass around the letter I received from her.”

He pulled it from the envelope and handed it to the others to look at while he double checked the report from Lady Adriana again.

The missive was short and the paper, not parchment, it was written on, was fairly unremarkable. In fact the only odd thing about it was the message itself, penned in a deliberate careful hand. In the first place the Lady addressed Adam far to informally for an acquaintance; in the second place everything else that was said.

----

Adam,

My husband never left me, though his life was unexpectedly cut short. He stands beside me once more, beautiful and strong. How can I fear...he is my soul-mate.

And yet I do fear. How do I answer him?

Isabeau D'Allende

----

Adam looked up again and waited till people had perused the letter before continuing.

“I must pay the Lady Isabeau a visit it seems; and figure out just what is going on there. She is not prone to flights of fancy or too vivid an imagination. Indeed she is generally a very rational woman. And of course people genuinely rising from the dead is simply absurd. That leaves something paranormal going on, and that plus her membership in the society puts it squarely as my responsibility.”

He didn't mention just how much he didn't want to go. Ever since her husband's death the Lady had made some rather too bold advances in his direction. He was not looking forward to it again.

“I am hoping, Lady Adriana, that you will consent to accompany me. I believe there may be things that the Lady Isabeau wishes hidden that you might be able to discern. And I don't believe she would dare turn both of us away; while she might refuse me entrance were I to call upon her alone. Or worse.”

Adam left that hanging without elaborating and just continued on speaking.

“Ben, I also hope you will accompany me. Your expertise in the fields of Alchemy might help the Lady to relax and perhaps even open up in our company. And even if she doesn't, there still may be nuances of things that might be meaningful to one of your knowledge that I might otherwise dismiss. It comes to my mind that there is more to her research than she perhaps claimed; and that it is related to or perhaps even the cause of her husband's death.”

“As for the other two issues perhaps those remaining might endeavor to investigate and perhaps evaluate if they fall into the realm of the Society's interests? I will ensure you have every supply you might require, including bribe money if you feel it might be needed.”

He needn't really ask. It was part of the members duties to investigate should he tell them too. That was one way he differed from his father however, he rarely told people to do anything. He found they were far more brilliant and able to accomplish truly great things when they were willing and undertook tasks they actually wanted to. In his view being forced to do something only made people stupid. If those gathered refused he would call on others rather than try to force the issue.

He had really hoped that Roger would have joined him. The man's talents at hunting criminals would have been ideal for investigating either of the other issues. He still hoped he might join them at a later time but that hope was growing slimmer as the morning passed.

Adriana sipped her tea in relative silence as Adam talked. She was already made aware of the Lady Isabeau's dilemma, thanks to the letter. However, she had not been aware that the Lady had been working on the panacea. The legendary cure all. So named for the goddess whom was said to dispense it in ancient Greek times. This did spark Adriana's interest a bit more in this case. Had the lady truly found it?

However panacea was never reported to bring the dead back to life. So what was happening with the lady's husband... It still could have been related to her research. Science and alchemy were fickle mistresses, and never worked quite the way one had intended, or so Adriana heard from some of her colleges and friends.

However, the reports of missing men also intrigued her a bit. She had heard rumors at some of the parties she had been at of some of the men missing around Prague. She had never really paid much mind to it, since no one she had known had gone missing. The report of the rabid bear bored her mostly, she was not a hunter, nor did she care much for the sport. The missing hearts part did get her interest. That didn't sound like atypical animal behavior. Especially if the animal was indeed rabid as the hunters had reported.

She took another sip of her tea and set her cup down. "I will be more than happy to call upon the Lady Isabeau with you Adam. Our families are on good standing with one another, so my paying a visit to her should not raise too many concerns. As long as you do not ask me to over tax my talents, I will do my best to figure out if there is something she is hiding from us, that she wishes to keep hidden." She looked at Adam as she spoke and then picked out a piece of toast to nibble on.

"Is there going to be anything else you will need my skills for before we leave for the D'Allende estate?" She set down her toast, curious for the answer.

Johanna carried on with her tea, but she took note of how Adam chased the servants from the room, and even bothered to open the window and ask one of the groundskeeper to take his work elsewhere for the time being. She smiled only to herself, and kept eating. Finally, when he seemed ready, did he announce the reason why he had them called to his meeting. It appeared that Lady Adrianna and Adam would be going off to visit a particular woman by the name of Isabeau D'Allende. As for the rest of them, there were two other cases for them to investigate.

The first folder, contained information regarding a mysterious case about several men going missing, according to Adam, at least seven men have been confirmed missing. She leafed through the folder, wondering what could possibly be the cause of their absence. As Adam suggested, it could be a run of the mill killer, or even a human slave trader catching men for women's pleasure, or something even darker. Her gaze lingered upon the sketches that Adam had acquired as well, all of the men were strikingly handsome, or so she thought.
However, the second case caught her attention, more so than the last one. She passed on the previous case file to Ben, and took the next folder in her hands, her eyes reading every piece of information she could. A rabid bear, hmm? Not quite. To Johanna, this was a clue, as she knew that any bear could not, so cleanly, and smoothly, extract any creatures heart. Bears were massive killing machines, and they lacked the finesse that humans did, which made Johanna wonder if perhaps this was some type of sadistic killer, or even a medical student, killing for the hearts alone, to study? There was also the possibility, that a creature, unbeknownst to them, perhaps just as sophisticated as humans, was the killer.

In her mind, Johanna had decided already that she would take on the case. She would rather investigate the outlying forests around Prague, than investigate the inner city, the environment suited her temperament better. Closing the folder, Johanna pushed it in front of her, and returned to sipping on her tea. Already, Johanna could feel the ache in her head, beginning to ease, the pounding at the base of her skull, and around her temples had subsided significantly.

"I think I'll have a go at this, rabid bear case, I already have a feeling that this beast, is no bear." So saying, she nodded at Adam, confirming that she intended to take on the case. A hint of a smile played upon her lips, she felt that after some research, and going to speak to the locals that would talk to her, Johanna would have a clearer idea of what she was working with, or against.

Standing before the door that led to the dining hall Roger made quite a sight. Still dressed in his hunting clothes, the victims of three days spent hunting, he was covered in mud and dirt. A pair of pheasants were draped comically over his broad shoulders and a shotgun, breech open, rested idly on his arm. Worse still, his normally well-kept mustache and meticulously trimmed beard had flourished in the forest, safe from all manner sharp things, and were now quite evocative of the wilderness. He would have much preferred a change of clothing, not to mention a proper bath and a good shave before presenting himself to the head of the order. However, he did not expect Monsieur Adam was calling an early morning meeting over trifle matters and as such a breach of etiquette was an acceptable consequence of an expedient if belated arrival.

Knocking heavily on the door, Roger waited for the talking on the other side to die down before entering into the usually bustling dining hall.

"Forgive my lateness, sir," Roger said to Adam as he strode into the room. Caught off guard by the amount of food assembled on the table, Roger struggled for a moment against the ingrained habits of his former life, he expected Monsieur Adam was not one to appreciate salutes and military manners. Instead, Roger allowed himself to observe the other individuals gathered around the table and offered a polite smile before securing the birds and weapon in a corner of the room with the well-practiced ease of a former military man.

Finding a seat at the table, his eyes were drawn to the croissants neatly arranged in a basket. His amazement at discovering that Monsieur Adam retained a chef capable of mastering the fine intricacies of French baking in the heart of Hungary had not yet abated. It was but one of the many benefits of membership in the society, which the humble Frenchman could have scarily imagined before he joined. He could forgive the eccentricities of the wealthy, sometimes, at least when it ensured that he had comfortable lodgings and food fit for a king...not to mention wine.

"I did not wish to inconvenience you or your servants with my coming and goings, and as such I did not think to inform your man Ren that I would be hunting," Roger explained as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "If it is not too much trouble perhaps you can fill me in on what I have missed and what has lead us to this welcome if early meeting?"

Aleksandra burrowed deeper in the dusty tome in front of her, furiously typing notes to herself on a well used typewriter as she puzzled over its contents. The room was… small, compared to her usual accomodations back in Russia. She’d had mild difficulty in finding space to store her various accoutrements, and whatever flighting fancy had persuaded her that she might finalize any metallurgical research of consequence unless she gained access to a proper laboratory she would never know.

However, the manor had a wealth of knowledge on psychic phenomena, as well as various scholarly theories on their origin, mechanism of action, and potential reproduction of such phenomena in the laboratory and then the real world. The vast majority was metaphysical poppycock unfortunately, written by raving lunatics or opportunists looking for their fifteen minutes of fame and some money to boot. This book however, this one had value. Genuine experimental documentation, rigorous application of the scientific method, and plausible hypotheses aimed at actually decoding these logic defying anomalies.

She had conducted some minor experiments on herself, but had been unable to find anything conclusive, likely due to her own ability’s nature as opposed to a more active one. However, willing test subjects were a rare commodity, and even more so when one wasn’t a man. Even money was of comparatively little use there, and she had been stuck with nothing to do but sort through the meaningless drivel to find the gold nuggets.

She reached the last page in the chapter, quickly scanning the page and jotting down the relevant information. In the Society she might finally get the chance to do some real tests, noninvasive of course, on active psychic manifestations. She was comfortable with the idea that they might not be explainable with current knowledge, and in fact the thought of expanding the field of knowledge further in such an area was an enticing thought indeed. See them laugh then.

Finishing the page she hastily threw a bookmark in and closed the tome with an audible thump. She hadn’t slept in over seventy two hours, and while she was accustomed to even longer stretches, they often involved actual motion, calibrating measurements, adjusting containers. She had sat on the hard wooden chair for the full stretch, pausing a few times to relieve herself a-...

A familiar pressure prompted her to sprint to the nearest lavatory, barely making it in time as… well… she emerged several minutes later, and immediately felt the parch of thirst and an aching pain in her gut that forced her to descend from her little nest-like area in search of food and water. The pitcher she’d taken with her had run dry a day ago. She made a mental note to ask one of the maids to check on her if she didn’t appear for more than two days so she didn’t run herself on an empty stomach again. Sleep could wait, she needed something to eat.

Walking through the halls, she poked her head into various rooms in search of someone to ask where she might find a bit of that wonderful fuel of the metabolic fire. Eventually the doors of the dining hall itself reared their heads, surely someone would be in there.

Pushing through the doors she halted immediately, a lock of unkempt snowy hair falling in her eye as she took notice of the little meeting in progress, and perhaps more importantly though not as likely, the food on the table they sat around. “Sorry.” She managed to croak out in the smidgen of Czech she knew, about to attempt actual communication before accepting defeat and asking in English, “I was searching for some, eh, food…” she trailed off, not sure whether to flee or try and grab some of the eggs on the table and make a run for it.

Adam smiled at Adriana.

“Your skills Lady Adriana? No. I think not. Your company however is always welcome. I would suggest that within Lady Isabau's home you be quite subtle about your actions. The particulars I will, of course, leave to you. I expect to leave at half past the noon hour if that is agreeable.”

He then nodded at Johanna.

“That sounds most excellent. I had hoped you would consider it. I will provide transportation to the edge of the city where a guide will meet you and you will need to proceed on foot. I trust you will outfit yourself with whatever you need for such a journey, the storehouses are at your disposal. I would also suggest you prepare in case things go awry. It is my sincere hope that they won't, but I am a firm believer in an overabundance of preparedness.”

He looked about to go on when Roger appeared in the doorway looking slightly worse for the wear. Nevertheless Adam was inwardly pleased to see him. The man's skills would allow him to excel at whatever he chose to do; and he hoped this time he would choose to help the society's investigations.

“Monsieur Martin” he said with a welcoming tone. “I had just about given up on you. I see your hunt was successful, that bodes well.” He didn't explain that statement, just gestured at the laden table. “Help yourself and I shall endeavor to catch you up on what you have missed.”

He took a few moments to briefly outline the problems, but he kept it short. He trusted Roger could read the files to find out whatever else he needed to know if he decided to go with it. But before he could get an answer from Roger another interruption happened upon them as Aleksandra Volkov almost literally stumbled into the dining room.

Adam watched the her steadily for a moment; his mismatched eyes unblinking as he gauged her. She had been at study again which was not uncommon. He guessed without food or water for a bit, also not an uncommon habit for her. What bothered him was that he had forgotten about her when he was weighing options for the issues now on the table. Her skill with weapons would certainly come in handy; she was also incredibly tenacious. Something that would likely be useful.

“I hadn't thought of you” he said muttering to himself then raised his voice. “Come in Ms. Volkov” he said, speaking also in English for her benefit. He was glad he had bothered to learn a plethora of languages; it seemed the society was picking up members from across the world. One day maybe they would even have an American.

“I believe your skills could be quite useful in the situations we are discussing; won't you join us? I will run over the cases at hand while you replenish yourself. These are issues that have come to my attention as potential situations best handled by the Society; perhaps you might consent to aid us in investigating one of them.”

Adam then proceeded to give the condensed version again; thankful he had the foresight to actually generate proper folders of the details for the others to look over at leisure. He hoped to leave to have all of them underway by half past noon but if they kept trickling in like this it might be problematic. He began to reformulate his plans in his mind as he talked.

NOTES FOR REFERENCE:
Group A--Visit Lady Isabau. Adam, Adriana
Group B--Rabid Bear in the Woods. Johanna
Group C--Missing Men.

Aleksandra marched briskly over to the table, seating herself and listening attentively as Adam spoke about the various cases.

A “bear” that was removing hearts from various forest animals, unusual, but not particularly interesting to her. Quite likely it was simply some witch doctor or quack harvesting the organs for his inane rituals. Such rituals tended to be nonsense, but then again so had psychic powers until recently. The case might have born some inquiry of her own, but somebody was already covering it, and she let it be, content with allowing someone else to pursue such matters.

A woman whose dead husband appeared to have returned from the dead? She wasn’t quite sure on the matter, and it sounded too far fetched to be true, even with many things recently so handily proving themselves to be quite possible indeed. However again, it was already going to be investigated by Adam himself, as well as Adriana. So not a pressing matter for her, however there was the last one...

Even as she continued to wolf down fish, eggs, toast, rolls, cheese, and everything else on table, the last of the cases stuck out to her and she raised a finger, pausing for a moment to swallow a mouthful of fish and a sip of coffee before speaking. “I think I shall work on the missing men, I’ve plenty of experience trawling the streets for suspicious activity.”

Also I get to look at those pictures some more. She thought to herself. She had a large personal library of pictures and illustrations of similarly attractive men and women, but who would turn down the opportunity to look at the pictures on the job?

She shook her head, muttering to herself to get her priorities in line.

The immediate potential culprits to this were obvious, human trafficking, murder, some highborn ladies looking to spice things up, or perhaps… She spoke up again, “Do we know if any of them had psychic potential? I might have an idea as to what could have potentially happened to them. If I’m right…” she trailed off, miming swinging sword as she waited. It was quite possible she had another cult on her hands, perhaps even a cult with potent psychics such as the Circle in Novgorod. Were that the case, things could rapidly devolve once more.

Adam looked at Aleksandra and gave a quick approving nod.

“That is a very valid question. It is not known that such was the case however I believe the society would be in a better position to judge such matters for certain. I think the right questions need merely be asked. I will make sure you have money for bribes, rounds of drinks, whatever you think might loosen tongues to provide you with the answers you seek. I will also provide transportation for yourself, and whoever else might join you, almost to the edge of the district but after that I think it best you make you begin your research unobtrusively. I don't know what is behind the disappearnces but It likely will not appreciate you trying to find It out.”

He pushed his chair back and rose easily.

“The files are yours to work with. Anything else any of you will need for this please see my valet Ren and if it is procurable he will procure it. I have a few details I need to arrange before we depart. There were others I had hoped would join us, they may as yet do so.”

He pulled a fine leather pouch from a pocket and laid it on the table. Inside were a collection of thin ordinary looking but fairly blunt sewing needles.

“All of you take one of these needles and fix it in your clothing near your wrist. They are touched with a whisper of psychic energy; something an ordinary person will not have access to. All who work investigations for the society wear such trinkets so that you may know them.”

It was a unique charm, one of the members had devised it for this sort of work. Her Talent was similar to automatic writing save that she used sewing rather than writing. These were the needles she used to enhance her talent but it also worked as a notice to others. Needles were common enough, no one would steal them as they might a coin or some other baubble, and anyone who simply focused their Talent could sense that there was something special about the needles, though not necessarily what. Adam had devised this solution when an earlier case was very nearly destroyed by a simple message assumed to be from him. Now anyone involved in any of the investigations wore one of these as long as they were working.

His carriage would arrive soon to pick Adriana and himself up for their visit. He would need to change and look a lot more debonair and formal. He didn't mind that part but his dread at visiting Lady Isabau was palpable.

NOTES FOR REFERENCE:
Group A--Visit Lady Isabau. Adam, Adriana
Group B--Rabid Bear in the Woods. Johanna
Group C--Missing Men. Aleksandra

Adam looked up as Ren entered his room. The man never knocked unless others were watching; Adam had come to expect it.

“There is a girl in your office” he said still standing stiffly but speaking in the familiar tone he used when he and Adam were alone.

Adam frowned. “My office? Whatever for?” It was really his father’s office, he rarely used it except to meet formally with members. Even then he preferred to use one of the ubiquitous sitting rooms.

“No idea sir.”

Adam blinked.

“How did she get there?”

“No idea sir.”

“Who is she?”

“No idea sir.”

Adam shook his head. “Lets try this differently Ren. What do you know about her?”

Ren smiled. “You taught me that to find the right answer you must first ask the right question. Did you forget your own lessons already?”

Adam smiled and leaned back in his chair and waited. His valet was very candid with him; when he wanted to be. He could also be frustratingly evasive and proper.

Ren continued. “I’ve never seen her before and wouldn’t have seen her now if she hadn't been pointed out to me by Janek. He sensed her and informed me. She is a Talent by the way and he has never seen her before. Since she didn’t do much prowling around I can only assume she is actually looking for you. She’s been sitting in your office for at least a quarter of an hour now.”

“Why did you let her in?” asked Adam reasonably.

“Seemed like your kind of puzzle sir” said Ren with one of his very rare grins. He knew his master well, the man liked nothing so much as a good puzzle.

Adam considered letting his Talent walk the pattern with him. Janek was one of the strongest aura talents in the society; he recognized people based on Aura’s which in his view were as unique as fingerprints. He was also incredibly lazy so unless the woman had happened to have been here before or one of the few cigar and brandy stores that Janek could be bothered to visit it would have been unlikely he had previously encountered her anyway. It was also no surprise he told Ren rather than investigate himself. Adam was pretty sure the manor could be on fire and Janek would be loathe to move himself from his chair.

“Very well. I’ll go see what she wants. Should be interesting at least.” He had already guessed some, parts of the pattern gleamed in his mind, but he didn’t trust it yet. Best solution was to be direct.

He rose to leave then paused.

“Ren, how far did she get before Jezek spotted her?”

“Are you sure you wish the answer to that sir?”

Adam frowned. Clearly she had gotten further than he would have liked. “Tell Jezek I will want to see him when I am done. Can’t have strangers just wandering around the manor.”

****

It had almost been too easy. Almost. The mansion of the Ianus Family was certainly not as much of a challenge to get into as she had first assumed, nor had it been the easiest one, however. It had been a fun little game, if anything, weaving in and out of bushes and trees on the outside, creeping down corridors and and distracting drowsy guards before sneaking past them.

The light of the moon shone through the window, illuminating the old office. Lucie Ruzicka currently stood in the office of the head of the Society, wearing a set of dark leather garments and trousers, serving dual purposes of hiding her in the dark and offering some protection should she get in a fight. Not that she expected to get into one. This place wasn’t one with fighters, as far as she’d been able to find out. It was researchers and scholars who lived here, alongside whatever staff was employed.

A scratching sound filled the air, followed by a flickering of a newly lit fire. Lucie held up the match, looking for some kind of electric lighting. She found a switch not far from the large desk and almost absentmindedly flicked it with a finger. The light revealed Lucie as she was: Tall, for a woman, with long chestnut hair that fell to the middle of her back, and full lips underneath her amber eyes and straight nose.

She smiled in satisfaction and neared one of the many bookcases, the light reflecting in her amber eyes as she looked for something that stood out, or at least seemed something interesting. She found one tome, bound in dark leather that seemed older than the others, a low coo passing from the woman’s lips, her interest peaked. She reached up with a gloved hand, plucking the tome from its place.

The book in hand, she walked over to the large chair behind the desk, sitting down and opening the book.

It turned out that the book she’d found was a detailed description of chemistry, how certain chemicals reacted with one another, and the results that could ensue from blending two together. The practical applications weren’t of much interest to Lucie Ruzicka at the moment, instead she simply did her best to absorb as much as she could, a content expression falling over her features as she let herself relax for the first time in a long while.

She had managed to read what. she assumed to be, fifty or so pages of the book before the sound of footsteps approaching from outside the door, in the hallway. The door opened opened shortly after, prompting Lucie to look up. A man, approximately the same height as herself, had stepped in; white hair, and eyes of two colours.

She stood up, closing the book with a snap, then smiled. “Good evening.”

Adam inclined his head politely out of an automatic habit. His face reflected nothing but his eyes swept the room in a quick gaze, letting the patterns burn briefly in his mind, before focusing his gaze, and his Talent, on the slim woman before him. Woman wasn’t the right term, at least not in Adam’s eyes. She was not much more than a girl. He wasn’t great at gauging age, people tended to age so differently, but he pegged her as a couple years shy of 20. That was more surprising than anything else. His thoughts flowed swiftly along the pattern; young, Talented, controlled...an interesting puzzle indeed but perhaps no longer a welcome one. He kept his voice cordial as he spoke.

“Good evening Miss. I am told you were looking for me? If it is chemistry you are interested in I am not your man. It lacks a certain spark in my mind; just not enough to hold my interest. Perhaps you were misled?”

“That is hardly the case,” Lucie mused, walking over to the bookcases again and placing the tome back where she’d found it. She turned around, hands behind her back as she stepped closer to the newcomer, her expression and posture relaxed, non threatening, and—most importantly—not afraid or even nervous. “While I have no particular interest in chemistry, I find it interesting enough to simply read about it. Though it is true that I was looking for you, the head of the Ianus Family, and the Society.” She finally stepped within reach, pulling off one glove and extending her hand in greeting, amber eyes fixated on the two colours of the other. Her hands were, despite her calling, surprisingly delicate. No obvious calluses or scars; evidence that she had taken great care to avoid wounds on her hands and fingers. The smiled stayed on her lips as she, simply, waited.

Her actions, and words, confirmed further suspicions he had about her. But it was the word “Society” that stuck in his head. His voice lost what little warmth it had held up to this moment.

“I think not” he said coldly as he glanced at her outstretched hand. “You possess a Talent of an unknown nature, you break into my home, settle into my office without so much as a by-your-leave, and decline to give your name, or any name really, by way of introduction. No, we are strangers and thus shall discourse as such.”

He should have remained standing, manners dictated such, but he was done being polite. It was time to be blunt. He moved past her and took his father’s chair behind the desk. He gestured at the woman to sit in one of the other chairs if she wished, but he didn’t particularly care if she did.

“Now then let us not be mealy mouthed about things. You are a skilled rogue and Talent. You know things about this home and myself I don’t wish known by the average person. And you have connections in the bustling underworld of our fair city. I can only conclude that you want something; money, or secrets, or power perhaps?”

Adam’s deductions might have seemed startling and his words somewhat crass; few things were as ungentlemanly as the discussion of extortion; but he didn’t want to play games and the safety of the Society came first. If she was a simple thief he would pay her off, but somehow he doubted that was what she was after.

Lucie’s eyebrows rose, not only at the cold tone of voice, but also at being spurned like she had. Her eyes followed him as he walked to the chair she had previously occupied, lips pursing in thought over what he had said, and what he continued to say afterwards. She turned around to face him, opting to take the seat offered her.Maybe following along would make him warm up to her? Make him less suspicious.

She didn’t show much surprise at his deductions, the only thing being the one eyebrow that rose again in some minor show of her not having expected this. “And here I thought I had managed to gain entry without so much as discovery, and yet you seem to know a great deal about me already. And, if I may, you never asked my name, so I have yet to decline revealing it.” She smiled at that, corner of her lips tugging upwards. “You are right on some accounts, though, I am a skilled rogue—though perhaps skilled is a slight understatement—and I do have a ‘Talent’ as you call it. On the other two accounts, however, you are somewhat mistaken. I don’t have connections to the underworld of this fair city.”

The polite smile on her lips turned somewhat mischievous at this. “It is rather difficult for a dead person to have connections to the world of the living, no? As for your last assumption, that one is likely the most incorrect of them all. I want neither money, secrets, or power. I already have all of those, more than I know what to do with. What I want is a membership of this place.” She let the words hang in the air, polite expression on her face as the mischievous smile returned to normal, her eyes sparkling in something akin to delight. It looked as if she was enjoying it: This small game of words.

“I see” he said in a non-comittial voice as she finished.

Adam leaned back in his chair, his eyes watching her closely. So maybe she was still an interesting puzzle. There were worse things. She could be lying to him of course. She was good enough to be able to do so without detection and he didn’t have a truthsayer. He decided right now to play the cards as dealt.

“You clearly know my name. It would be common courtesy to share yours with me. On the other hand I have been less than courteous so we will table that issue for now. And you might be surprised at what the dead can accomplish with the right connections.”

He didn’t bother to ask her her name at the moment, he assumed she would simply give him a fake one, he would have in her shoes, so it would be of little use anyway. The second comment was an oblique reference to a few of the members; mediums in the traditional sense were fraudulent but that did not mean spirits didn’t have a foothold in this world. There was more than one member who could converse with certain dead; and it was almost universally annoying.

“Now for the really important question. Why do you want membership?”

He wasn’t sure what she thought she could gain out of it; he knew what he could gain. But he was curious what she expected. What sort of “society” did she think they were?

“On the contrary,” Lucie said calmly, inspecting the nails on her un-gloved hand. “I don’t know your name. I know of you, your appearance, and your position, but not your name.” The polish she’s applied to them this morning still held, painting them a warm shade of red. She put her glove back on; they were thin ones, good for little more than looking pretty or slightly warming the hands in the autumn when it had yet to get truly cold.

She looked back up at the head of the Society, the lamp’s light reflecting in those amber eyes of hers. She sat up straighter and, now that things seemed to have become somewhat more polite, offered an easy smile. “If you don’t mind, let us wait with the questioning until we at least have completed the introductions.” She extended her hand to him—still gloved—and said, ”Lucie Ruzicka.” She saw no reason to hide her name. No one would believe him if he claimed that she was still alive. There were far too many people claiming otherwise, and the rumours across town that she had met with the Reaper were spread too far to be stopped by a single account her of supposedly still living.

“Very well.” said Adam his voice still cool, but he seemed resigned to be polite in spite of it. He was beginning to wish his father were here, the mystery of the girl was fine at first but enough of the puzzle pieces had fallen into place she was now less intriguing. He extended a hand for the exactly proper pale handshake that was expected. “Adam Ware. Now can we get back to why you want to be a member here? Forgive me but you don’t seem the type to spend hours in study and contemplation of esoteric things. I suspect you would rapidly grow bored and we need more...” he searched for a word “committed members.”

In the second that their hands had touched, albeit through the thin glove, Lucie’s let her skills run free, though without keywords. Her expression changed to something similar to the cat who caught the canary. It was gone just as quickly, being little more than eyes widening slightly, smile widening.

She wiped the expression off of her face, forcing her features to calm and not show too much outward emotion. In this situation, it could jeopardize far too much. She leaned back in the chair, putting her hands in her lap.

“As to my reasons for wanting to join, it’s quite simple: I want to be part of something where I can use my skills in a way that does not cost the lives of people.” Her tone of voice was simple, calm, and factual. No feelings or thoughts exposed. She was giving up simple information, nothing more. “My entire life has been blood and sweat, and I have grown weary of it. Though I still enjoy the thrill of discovery, and trying to stay hidden, I have no lust for blood. I would only shed it should the cost for not doing so be the life of my or someone innocent.”

She paused for a moment, gauging the other’s reaction. “Not only am I skilled at sneaking and, as you might have guessed, stealing, but I also excel at information gathering, as you might have already guessed—” she lowered her voice with the next words, lips curving into an impish smile “—Miss Adeleia.”

Adam stared steadily at her for many minutes, his strange eyes unblinking, as he measured the young woman before him. She didn’t seem to be lying. And he now had a very good grasp of her abilities as well as her history. The maze which had been forming in his psychic consciousness gleamed as the path emerged and the pattern drew together. A talented thief always had value; many wealthy folk didn’t realize just how much information and goods were obtained this way. He had no doubt this woman could make her way in the world without the aid of the Society. She clearly wanted something more in her life. Maybe she would fit here.

Finally he spoke, keeping his voice calm.

“That name is no more mine than you are your father’s daughter” he said cryptically though his voice was very cold. He was not a woman. He may have a female body, but that did not make him female. Explaining this, however, was almost always completely impossible and he would not do it for a stranger. When he continued speaking his voice held none of the slight amusement it had at the beginning of their encounter, now it was all business.

“Your talents could be valuable, and I might be able to offer you some more stimulating activities. But the society is known for lots of very mundane uninteresting research as well. Somehow I suspect you might find that part...tedious. So I will ask...are you sure you are interested?”

Lucie pouted, a childish thing to do, but nonetheless it reflected her thoughts. How boring. She’d expected more of a reaction—surprise, at the very least—but the lack of any sort of change in demeanor aside from the tone of voice took out much of the fun. Regardless, her pout morphed into a small, self-assured smile, as she said, “In which case I assume that name is very much yours. However I suppose I should call you Adam, correct? While not your given name, it is the one I suspect you prefer.”

She adorned a more serious expression, then, resolving to cease the games and get the business over with—though there was still a slight upturn in the corner of her lips. “What is interesting is often up to the individual. I enjoy reading, no matter the topic, and even if I am no scholar I can assure you that I am more than capable of gathering information from a variety of sources. If need be I can write and compile reports, although my expertise lies in the field. Furthermore,” she met Adam’s mismatched eyes with her own amber ones, not unkind, but businesslike, “I have plans for setting up certain—legal—investments. I have access to a minor fortune of my own money, and intend to use them to set up a small chain of investments for a steady income. If the Society has needs for it, I am willing to provide donations in times of need.” The look on her face betrayed no intentions of underlying motives, or even a lure for the head of the society. It was simply an offer, nothing more, nothing less.

Leaning back in a chair he thought on her reply, turning the words over as if looking for a flaw. He was quiet so long that it almost seemed as if he had fallen asleep, except his eyes never left the woman in front of him. Finally he nodded quickly as he came to a decision and pushed himself upright. He opened a nearby drawer, pulled out a ledger, and glanced at it.

“My name is Adam” he said addressing her earlier comment. “Indeed it suits me well. You will have to forgive me if in the future I refrain from personal contact. We all have secrets worth protecting. Worth dying for. Worth killing for. However I do think you could fit well here if you find the society’s goals compatible with your own. Keep your money; my own investments are plenty; I’m rather good at them you see. Besides it is much easier to remain happily dead with plenty of legal income.”

It had been that, more than anything else, that had convinced Adam. He didn’t take kindly to people who pried unwelcomely into his personal affairs. But he had a soft spot for women who were reinventing themselves. And psychomotrists were always valuable.

“We have an open room which can be your personal quarters, and I will have my valet show you there once we are done. Very well Miss…” He looked expectantly at her. After all he didn’t expect her to use her real name either. But now they could get this settled in a relatively efficient manner.

A wave of relief washed over Lucie’s face, wiping away the stoic mask of the chess master, and all the stress and worry that came with it. In its place was the face of a young, beautiful woman, who seemed to be relieved more than anything else. She let out a breath she seemed to have been holding almost the entire time, and reached for the hand proffered her.

“Lucie Ruzicka,” she said once more. “A pleasure to meet you, and thank you for allowing me to stay.” Perhaps for the first time that evening, she sounded entirely genuine, as one would expect of any other girl her age. She stood up and turned towards the door leading out, but turned around first. “If I may say something before I leave, the investments I was talking about are entirely legal. I already have a deal with a small time jeweller who recently started his own shop, as well as a small inn in the poorer districts of town. They’re but the first, but entirely legal.” She smiled. “My past may be smudged and dirty, but that does not mean my future will have to be… Speaking of past, I do not know if it means anything to you, but so long as you give me no reason to, your secret is safe with me.” She bowed her head, curtsied, and slipped out the door, moving as a shadow more than a person. Outside, the valet of which Adam had spoken waited for her, leading her to her room.


Lucie Ruzicka could’ve sworn she was cursed. It seemed that every time she had somewhere to go, or someplace to be, she got lost in the world of whatever book had caught her fancy that day, forgetting the time and finding herself late. It didn’t matter what time of day it was, or what she had to do: She almost always found herself late.

I have let this easy life get to me. I should be on my toes to move at any time.

She’d forgotten the time and was now late for the breakfast summons she had been given earlier that morning. She weaved through the maze of corridors that was the manor, having memorized just about every nook and cranny in the time she’d been here, hurrying as best she could to the dining room.

She stopped outside the doors, smoothing her dress out, and checking to see that nothing was out of place. She wore a floor-length toga-like dress which left her arms and shoulders exposed, white of colour, and tight enough that it showed off some of the curvature of her body. The way it wrapped around her chest and back gave it a neckline high enough to only reveal her collarbone, and nothing more. She’d chosen a pair of simple, heeled sandals, not caring much for what to walk in, as they would be unseen due to the dress regardless. It was almost scandalous for this time and age, not that she cared. People were far too prudish in this day and age, acting as if the mere sight of bare skin or even slightly tight clothes were a horror in and of itself. She’d had to have it custom made for her a while back, having grown bored with the dresses currently in fashion. The look on the seamstress’ face when she’d shown her a sketch of what she wanted had been priceless.

A quick touch told her that her earrings—coin-sized silver loops—were both in place. They had been one of the items she had been given from the jewellry store she had invested in half a year back, and who now had a stable business. He had allowed her to take one piece of jewellry for free each month, on top of the quarterly cut she received.

She let out a breath, and walked in. She could see the others already conversing and eating, and so moved as quietly as she could, which—considering her previous profession—was very quiet. Despite her heels and white dress, she moved as a shadow over to the others, listening in as they spoke.

She stopped beside the one woman in the room taller than her—Aleksandra was her name, if she wasn’t mistaken—no longer trying to hide herself or mask her presence. Her brows had furrowed at the news, but one in particular had seemed to call out to her: The disappearance of men in the slums. It would be a lie if she claimed to not already believe that one of the criminal lords were behind this, but as it was she couldn’t be sure.

“I’ll take on the missing men,” she said aloud, looking towards Adam. “I believe, out of all of us, I am the best qualified for this task in particular. I know the underbelly of this city like the back of my hand. Who to talk to, and how. If need be, my Talent will be able to point us in the right direction from just the smallest of leads. That is my hope, at least.”

Johanna had remained seated even with the mysterious woman, appearing behind another woman she had not met, technically, the tallest of the women present that is. She turned her head to gaze upon the newcomer with a contemplative look, curious as to her offer to cover the case of the missing men.

However, Johanna managed a ghost of a smile upon her lips, excited to see another woman step up to the plate. In this day and age, Johanna found societal norms to be rather barbaric. A woman's place is in the house, in the kitchen, making children. The thought alone disgusted her, as Johanna was living proof of a successful, independent woman in Prague, of all places. With her father's understanding, and devoted care to his only daughter, Johanna became determined more than ever to make a name for herself, to create a legacy.

"Well, Monseiur Adam, if there is nothing else you need from us, I would much rather like to depart, and begin making arrangements and other preparations I'll need to make." Turning her attention back to the head of the house, her brows rose in wonderment, as if to say 'Well is there?'

She glanced around at the other members seated, three women, and two men had been called together to take on these cases. Perhaps, Johanna could be useful after all. Her Talent, may prove to be of use, if she could concoct a hallucinatory sleeping draught to induce a writing spell. Then again, she would need the use of someone to assist her in case her self-made draught turned bad. She could even ask one of the servants to help her if the need arose as well.

More so, the one thought that captivated her mind, how would she get out to these woods and go out there? Johanna would enlist one of the many carriages surely, and before anything, she would need a map of the forests, and of the case files, with the details providing the location of the victims.

Aleksandra looked over at the woman who had recently entered the room, inclined to speak but even more so disinclined to do so with a mouth nearly overflowing with egg and bread. Downing the mass of food in her mouth with a gulp of coffee and then some water to clear her mouth, she brushed the crumbs from her lips and spoke in English, hoping she would understand it. “Good to know I’ll have assistance.” She reached over to another plate for an egg, having cleared the one near her already, “You say you know the dark side of the city well, where would you recommend starting? I have my own sense of the street, but little experience in Prague’s own. Were this Novgorod absolutely, but as it is I’ve not been here long.”

Lucie glanced down at the other woman, face unreadable for a few moments. She seemed to study her, assessing her. She moved to the other side of her, taking a seat as she silently looked over the different selections of food, taking a generous helping of waffles topped with maple syrup. “I believe,” she started, replying slowly in English, “that we should eat first. I haven’t eaten yet, and would prefer to work only after.” She turned to look at Aleksandra, giving her what—for just a second—looked like a chiding look. “I will tell you what I know afterwards. Agreeable?”

“I haven’t eaten for four days.” Aleksandra shrugged, “Or slept for three, for that matter. Before we begin working in earnest I might need to catch up on that, for a bit, just a smidgen.” She inhaled another three eggs and a mouthful of fish before continuing, “You can do whatever you like, but after this and some discussion I’ll be departing from the realm of wakefulness for several hours.” She blinked several times, fighting the urge to simply sleep then and there, her eyes had very prominent bags under them, almost permanent at this point.

Lucie nodded at the words, plucking a bite of waffle from the fork, chewing thoughtfully. Her amber eyes were glided across the room, taking in the number of people, placement of doors, and possible obstacles. All as a reflex, like a muscle trained to perform a single movement for years.

“I would rather you be awake for any proper discussion of tactics and maneuvers. Chances are you will have forgotten what I have said once you wake up, in indeed your state of mind is as you insinuate.” She took another bite, swallowed, and glanced at Aleksandra with a raised eyebrow. “I do not doubt your abilities. But I would rather not make mistakes. Furthermore, our given task would be most easily accomplished in the later hours, so you resting will not get in the way.” A faint smile curved her lips upwards. “If anything, it’s far better than you being too eager to begin.”

“The phenomena of psychic manifestation is one that has baffled the minds of natural philosophers for centuries. Many have attempted to decode the mysteries of these phenomena that apparently defy rational law, but almost none have met with definitive success. This volume concerns itself with the mechanism of action for such anomalies, as well as physiological indicators and morphology of the brains and sympathetic nervous systems of individuals manifesting such traits.” Aleksandra repeated the words in a dull monotone, watching Lucie as she did so. “I read that three days ago, I rarely forget things.”

She downed a cup of coffee, looking back up, “However I would indeed be more lucid and in control of my faculties after resting, as well as being generally more alert in the twilight hours regardless, so I have no objections to starting out in the evening.” She yawned, “And give the benefit of the doubt, I’ve got my fair share of experience on the street as well.”

“Not in these streets,” Lucie replied bluntly. “I know not what it was like in your previous home, but I assure you that the underbelly of this city is like no other, for better or worse.” She took another bite, silencing herself for several long moments. Finally, she said, “Regardless of your memory, I don’t take risks.” She paused, her expression turned pensive for a brief second. “I do not doubt your abilities, Aleksandra, but I went to great lengths to join this house. If there’s even the slightest chance that something might go wrong, I will want it… what’s the word? Eradicated.”

“I highly doubt that the streets of Prague can be particularly worse than those of Moscow or Novgorod.” Aleksandra raised an eyebrow, “I did say I had little to no experience on Prague’s streets in particular. I just said that you ought to give me the benefit of the doubt, it’s not as if I’ve never gone out my front door after all, I know simply throwing yourself out there is a good way to get yourself killed.” She continued devouring the food arrayed on the table for a minute or so, before looking back up, “And I did agree I would be more lucid after sleeping.”

“That you did.” Lucie took the last bite of her waffles, picking a few pieces of fruit and started slicing them. “That you did.” She devoured the first of six pieces of apple, savouring the juicy flavour. “So when you are finished eating, you will go sleep, correct? In the meantime, I’ll make a few preparations. I have a few things that needs to be done before we can go. Should be able to do it all before you wake.”

“Yes, I will.” Aleksandra appraised the woman, making a mental note to learn more about her, time permitting. “If it is just a few preparations as you say, it should be trivial to finish them before I wake - I have three days of no sleep to account for.”