“Is something wrong?”

The hint of a smile told me she hoped something was. I choked down the impending doom. “I’m sorry. I looked into your eyes and time seemed to stop. Are you a wizard?” She hadn’t simply called her minions to haul us away yet, so if I came off as a charming idiot, she’d probably leave us alone.

She didn’t seem impressed by my rushed charm, though. “I am. Should I cast a spell to prove it to you?”

That was a playful threat. “Oh, don’t bother - stopping time with your eyes is proof enough.” She was focused on her job right now, which was getting us to admit we had something to do with the explosion. If I could get through to the person inside, we might get off without a painful interrogation. She went about her job like quite the bitch last night - she might be frustrated from under-appreciation. “And you said Captain Minerva of the A.U.T.C., right? I imagine that’s quite impressive, for someone so young.” Her face didn’t change; she was secure with her work. “You must’ve ruffled some feathers on your rise to prominence,” I said, switching tactics. Anyone who does their job like that must make enemies wherever they go.

Her undertones of visceral hunger slipped ever so slightly. “Well, maybe a few,” she said, shifting position on her barstool. I cracked the shell, if only a little. Interesting that she didn’t dispute the prominence, though. “What’s your name?” she asked.

“I’m Jack.”

“And you, elf?”

“Kevin.”

She furled her brow. “An elf named ‘Kevin’?”

“Oh, you’ll have to forgive him,” I said. “He gets tongue tied around beautiful women. He meant to say ‘Keebler’.” I could feel him glare at me. “We were about to have some breakfast, if you’d care to join us,” I offered.

“Breakfast at this hour? Did you have a late night?” And just like that, she was back to business.

“I did.” I made my tone that of weary exasperation. “It’s hard to rest when there’s an explosion and fire not far from where you’re sleeping.”

“Were you in bed when the explosion went off?” She asked, faux concern gilding her face.

Truth was my best option. “No,” I said, then gestured to the door. “I was just outside here.”

“Both of you?”

“I was in our room,” said Kevin. “But I geared up and headed downstairs when I heard it - or rather, felt it.”

She took a second before turning back to me. “Did you see anything suspicious leading up to the explosion?”

“Suspicious?” I thought about it. “Well, a drunk guy stumbled into that block just before it went off. I’d hardly call that suspicious, though, as he must’ve been caught in it.”

She held my eyes with her own. Leaning in, she asked, “Are you sure you can’t think of anything else?”

Things had been so hectic after the explosion, those memories eclipsed everything previous. “Cicadas…” I said eventually. She raised an eyebrow. “Just before the explosion, all of the bugs in the forest went quiet. I thought it was odd.”

She leaned back slightly upon hearing that. I could see her expression shift to… concern? Was it that much of a surprise to hear that? “Are you certain?” she asked, quietly.

I nodded. “Yes. I even commented on it.”

She perked up. “To whom?”

“Me.”

Jenn had come downstairs. Either she harbored hatred for everyone in the morning, or she recognized who the captain was.

When I looked back to Minerva I saw her mouthing a few words to no one in particular. She took a hand out of a pouch and looked Jenn up and down. “And you are?”

I stepped in before Jenn could give a snarky comment. “Good morning, Jenn! Captain Minerva, Jenn. Jenn, Captain Minerva.”

“Charmed,” said Jenn.

“I’m sure. Can you describe the events leading to the explosion last night?” she asked.

“I don’t know what actually led to it,” she said, not falling for the verbal trap, “but I can confirm what Jack said about the bugs.” She brought her nose up a fraction to look down on Minerva. “And I’m sure you already know about the drunk.”

“Oh? Why?”

“Because I saw you have him dragged and beaten - someone who needed medical attention.”

Minerva sat a little straighter and gestured for Jenn to have a seat. Jenn stood, implacable. “He was healed.” Minerva’s tone was severely calm, almost calculated. “He’s fine now, and we were able to determine that he didn’t have any involvement in the incident.” A chill ran down my spine. She’d said similar words many times before. They had the feel of perfected persuasion through practice.

“And you had to beat him to be sure?” Jenn folded her arms.

“Yes. He was being uncooperative and—“

“He was probably in shock from the explosion!” shouted Jenn, tensing without movement. The bar went quiet. Actually, the bar was quiet before, but now people were chancing a look at us.

Minerva, still a wall of ice, held up a hand. “I don’t have to justify my job to you. Now, you can sit down and answer my—where did the elf go?”

I turned around on my stool, and sure enough, Kevin was gone. “I don’t know where Keebler went,” I said. “Off to make cookies?” This was bad. It could force her to play her hand and have us taken in.

“Well, I’ll make do with you two for now,” she said. Interesting. I turned to look at her - she didn’t seem too upset about it. Was she losing suspicion? “Are you new to town?”

No, probably still suspicious, but not going about it as intelligently. “Like most people who stay at an inn,” I shrugged.

“Of course. When did you arrive?” She was studying us, trying to gauge our responses. It was another question she knew the answer to. She must still be suspicious, but then wouldn’t she be worried that Kevin might’ve tried to escape?

“Yesterday,” I said.

She gave a quick, fake frown before saying, “…And the same night you come to town, an explosion goes off not two blocks from where you were. That’s bad luck, isn’t it?”

That was practically a flat out accusation. Jenn responded before I could. “Bad luck?” she repeated, equal parts incredulity and rage. “I’m sorry, but how many people were hurt in that explosion? Or lost their homes? And you call it bad luck? Is it your policy to trivialize disasters?” Minerva got more and more irritated with each question, and I could see that Jenn was doing what I was - trying to get through to the person beneath by stimulating her emotions. Gutsy, trying to anger someone with authority to beat you (and a wizard to boot, if she knew that). I guessed I’d have to be the soft voice. I suppressed a smile - we were the ones being interrogated, yet it’d be us doing the variation of the “good cop/bad cop” routine. I needed to step in before Minerva got too—

“Soldiers posted at exits.”

The voice was Kevin’s over a Message cantrip. I clenched my jaw - that was why Minerva didn’t care if Kevin snuck away. Heck, she probably wanted him to try and leave, so her guards could drag him back and she could begin questioning on upper footing - “Why did you run away? That’s very suspicious” and whatnot. It meant she didn’t have enough to just black bag us, so that was good. Was she that desperate for leads? Maybe not - if she was running on desperation, I imagine she wouldn’t be trying to be subtle. So what was the deal here?

Minerva was reaching a flashpoint under Jenn’s barrage, so I stepped in. “Jenn?” I said, touching her arm and stopping the fight. “Please sit down. We don’t know what circumstances Captain Minerva comes from, but she must have her reasons for going about her business like she does. We don’t have to like it, but we do have to respect it.” I turned to Minerva, who was quelling her frustration. “Captain, do you have any more questions?”

She struggled to get back to her previous mindset, and I noticed she’d dropped the sensual aspects of her demeanor - a small hit to confidence that could go either way for us. When our eyes met I could tell she somewhat appreciated my words. “What brings you to Woodsedge?”

That must be the name of the town. Good to finally know. “We’re adventurers.”

Her lips pushed up reflexively at the corners. She was amused - that should be a good sign. “Find any adventure?”

“We saved a baby,” I said.

“Whose baby?”

“Her name’s Marisa. She lives a little ways into the woods.”

Minerva’s eyebrows shot up. “In the woods?”

“Yes, she has a cottage there. She got permission from King… something or other to live there.”

“Eridar,” came a Message. So Kevin was listening in.

“Eridar,” I said, snapping my fingers.

Minerva looked at me, disbelieving. It took a couple seconds for her to shake it off. “Was that all you did?”

“Other than some drinking, yeah,” I said.

“And you’re—are you traveling with anyone else?” It was another question she knew the answer to.

“Yes, a half-orc,” I responded.

Her stare went from me to Jenn and back a few times. I smiled, “Anything else?”

She ended up fixating on me, studying every feature, while she asked, “Did you have anything to do with the explosion?”

We’d worn her down - she was going for broke. “No.”

She watched me for a few seconds. I held her gaze, shifting my face to curious concern when she lingered. She eventually switched to Jenn. “And you?”

“No,” Jenn said, sneering.

Minerva narrowed her eyes. “Really? Because I have testimony that you two walked out that door minutes before the explosion and returned shortly afterward.” She asked that crossbow lady about us - maybe others.

“And your point?” asked Jenn.

“Tap foot if want distraction.” Kevin again.

I held my feet still. We weren’t quite in trouble yet.

“My point is you came to town, left for most of the day, came back with a bag of gold to divvy, left the tavern in the middle of the night just before the explosion, and returned shortly after.”

Definitely talked to others. Suddenly my foot felt tense, but she’d have marched in and taken us if that list alone was enough. “Entirely circumstantial,” I said. “And easily explained.”

“I’d love to hear it—yes?” One of her soldiers had entered the bar and saluted her - a tap on his chest with his fist. He handed her a note and stood at attention, looking a little grim.

She read the note in half a second, folded it, and slapped it down on the bar. “Two demerits, Urdan,” she growled. “Back to your duties.” She idly tapped a finger on the note, staring off at nothing. I could see the wheels turn in the Captain’s head. “You’ll be in town all day?” she asked, without looking at us.

Was she letting us go? “We’ve got a few errands to run, and then we might be heading for Rikston.”

“Don’t leave until you’ve talked to me again.”

I couldn’t help myself. “Was the note good news?”

“Good news for you,” she said with a bit of a resigned sigh. “I’m willing to procede for the time being under the assumption that you weren’t involved.” She stood up.

“May I ask why?”

She looked me in the eyes, a hint of a smile on her face - she was pretty cute, when she didn’t think she was talking to an arsonist. “You wouldn’t have given me such a damning clue if you were behind it.” She slid the note along the bar to me. I reached for it and suddenly her hand was pressing mine into the wood. I looked up to find her face two inches from mine, which made the collective multitudes of my base instincts inhale sharply. “But if I find out you were behind it, or if I so much as hear that you’ve broken any laws, you’re done for.”

I smirked. “And would you arrest me if I kissed you right now?” For a second, I thought I heard Jenn gag.

Minerva smirked back, then released my hand and headed for the door. “Oh, one more thing,” she turned. “Where did you say you were from?”

It was the home stretch, and I didn’t feel like lying. “A place called America.”

She was puzzled by that, but decided not to ask a follow-up. She left without another word.

I breathed a sigh and spun to Jenn. Her face was a description of curious disappointment.

“Did you really find her attractive?” she indirectly accused.

My smile was unabashed. “I did.”

“Even knowing what kind of person she is?”

“Now now,” I wagged a finger, “I meant what I said; we don’t know what her circumstances are. Even then, she might have a change of heart.”

“And I suppose you’d be the one to change it?”

I musingly rubbed my chin.“I’d be willing. Everyone deserves a second chance,” I said. “Especially the cute ones.”

Out of nowhere, Kevin appeared - possibly to keep my throat from being throttled by Jenn. “Keebler? Are you serious?” he asked, looking as though he’d rather throttle me instead.

I grinned. “What? Would you have preferred ‘Santa’s Little Helper’?”

“I… huh.” He furled his brow, anger whisked away by inspiration. “I just thought of a great character idea for an assassin….” He refocused on me. “But I’ll get you back for that. Anyways, what’s on the note?”

“Oh, right. Our saving grace.” I unfolded it. “Let’s see… ‘Can confirm. Most insects in vicinity dead’,” I read aloud. I looked it up and down, then checked the back. “That’s it? That was the clue that allayed all suspicion?”

Jenn took the note. “Seems so. Those cicadas must somehow be linked to the explosion.”

“Maybe we can ask her about it when we talk to her again,” I shrugged.

“Is it something your arcana skill could help with?” asked Kevin.

My brain winced in remembered pain. “Don’t want to chance it. Any guesses as to what A.U.T.C. means?”

“A.U.T.C.… ‘Able to Understand Those Cicadas’?” offered Kevin.

“‘Arbitrarily Unkind To Commoners’,” muttered Jenn.

“It stands for ’Advanced and Unusual Threat Countermeasures’,” said the bartender, who’d been mysteriously absent during our friendly interrogation. “They’re the first to show up whenever there’s real trouble. I kept your eggs warm while you were chatting.” He set them down, took Jenn’s order, and disappeared again.

Turning to Kevin, I asked, “So, what were you going to use as a distraction?”

He grinned. “A streaking half-orc.”

Familiar heavy footsteps came from the stairway, and I cautiously looked out of the corner of my eye to make sure Topher was clothed. He was. “Did I hear something about streaking half-orcs?” he grumbled, taking a stool. His eyes were red and swollen - he never handled hangovers well.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Kevin, patting him on the back. “We’ll discuss it later as a type of emergency contingency plan.” The response Topher gave was a mix of pained growl, perturbed groan and prolonged grunt.

Breakfast continued, and Topher began to feel better. We filled him in on our conversation with Captain Minerva. “That’s kind of ambiguous, isn’t it?” he said. “Are the threats advanced and unusual, or do they do advanced countermeasures and unusual threat countermeasures?”

“Or both?” Kevin added.

I huffed. “Ambiguous wording is the bureaucrat’s playground. The more vague it is, the more they can say is under their jurisdiction.”

“I’m sure it won’t matter,” said Jenn, kicking my soapbox out from under me. “But do you have any thoughts on the bugs and the explosion?”

Topher shrugged. “You said she referred to it as a ‘damning clue’, right? My guess is whatever caused the explosion also caused the bugs to die before it went off. Maybe the method of explosion that does that is really frowned on or something. Well, frowned on more than an explosion by itself would be, anyway.”

“Makes as much sense as anything,” I said.

Kevin stood up. “Alright, breakfast is done, and we have things to do. You heading to the local priest to tell them about the cultists, Jenn?” She nodded. “Sounds good. Jack’s going to stay here and find out about stuff, and Topher, what did you want to do first? Help Jack gather information?”

Topher shook his head, which seemed to hurt him. “No, not first. Jenn, can I go with you to the church? I’m hoping they have a cure for hangovers.”

“Just drink water,” said Jenn.

“I’d rather trust magic than the water.”

“So I’ll check on the locksmith and find a place that can look at the bow and dagger for me,” said Kevin. “Meet back here around lunchtime, then?”

“What’s wrong with the bow?” asked Topher.

Kevin held it up. “I told you last night; it feels like half the enchantment’s missing. I’m hoping there’s someone who can figure this stuff out.”

“And the dagger is the one you took off the cult leader?” asked Jenn.

Kevin nodded. “I don’t think it’s magical, but I’d rather have it looked at just to be sure it isn’t evil or anything.”

“We’re calling it the ‘Often Oddly Castrated’ dagger,” I smiled.

Jenn was taken aback. “What? Why?”

Kevin shrugged. “Just some letters engraved on it. We good to go?”

“Oh, before that,” I said, reaching into my money purse, “could you pick me up a blank journal? Or maybe a few blank pages if they don’t have one?” I handed a few gold coins to Kevin.

“Yeah, sure,” said Kevin, curious but not willing to pry.

They headed out. Wasting no time, I grabbed my lute and turned toward the rest of the bar.

“Who wants to hear another song?” I projected.

There was a bit of scattered applause. It was then I realized that most of them weren’t here when I played my first one. Time to build up from scratch. I smiled, held up the lute, positioned my fingers for the opening measure of Enter Sandman, and went to town.

After fifteen minutes of playing acoustic Metallica instrumentals, I’d discovered a few things. First, the murky shell around my soul was still gone. Second, while I could tell that my first performance wasn’t simply a fluke, it was still hard to match. Third, Metallica plays well anywhere. Fourth, people didn’t want to talk about the explosion. Lastly, there were a lot of people with purplish tinges to their eyes - something Topher said was indicative of the Ware. I was worried when I first noticed them, but I soon realized they didn’t act much differently than other people, with the exception that they didn’t order drinks or offer to pay for mine. Then again, I didn’t think it was noon yet, so not drinking was probably a good thing.

I had just finished Nothing Else Matters to pleased applause when a soldier came into the bar. The look on his face suggested he was searching for someone, and I was grateful when he passed over me without a second thought. I bowed for the song and said I’d be taking an intermission. The soldier walked up to the bar and flagged down the bartender.

“We don’t offer discounts to soldiers,” said the bartender gruffly.

The soldier shook his head. “I’m with the A.U.T.C.” He said it as though everyone’s fears should be put to rest from the fact.

“Okay. What do you need?”

The soldier leaned toward him, and I had to strain to eavesdrop. “We’ve been asking around for your town’s Consul, but can’t find him. I imagine you know all the goings on. Have you heard anything? Is he out of town?” Consul? That sounded like a political office.

The bartender frowned. “Consul Railford? Haven’t heard anything.”

The words shot through me. The cultists called their leader Railford. Was this the same guy? No, why would a politician steal a baby? Sure, most politicians were evil, but still….

The soldier frowned. “You’re certain?”

“As I can be.”

“Then kindly keep an ear out. If you find anything, let us know.” The soldier gave a polite nod, scanned the room again, and walked out. The bartender went back to going about his job.

I blinked a few times. Maybe I misheard. Maybe it was a common name. Maybe it was the family name. Maybe…

I froze. Minerva said if she even heard that we did anything illegal, we were done for. Now Kevin was out trying to find someone to get that dagger looked at. The dagger he got from that cult leader. The dagger engraved with the letters ‘O.O.C.’

‘Office Of Consul’.