The brushed wood walls of Rai’s apartment office welcomed Sao back like an old friend after a frosty weekend. Rai was wide awake, hammering a report out of his keyboard, his desk covered with its customary litter of coffee cups. Sao smiled at him, received nothing for his effort, and took a seat in his sun-dusted swivel chair in the corner. He yawned heartily.

Then he wheeled to face a new strange sight.

There was a couch sitting at the opposite end of the office.

The corner of the room had always ostensibly been a seating area, though he had never seen anyone actually sit in it. That was no wonder: it comprised of a bench made of hard, angular wood planks better suited for the outdoors, and a coffee table that was too low and slightly dented. The bench and table had been shifted just enough to make room for the surprise couch, which now sat unhappily cramped under the corner window.

“How long has that been there?”

Rai’s head appeared between towers of paperwork. “About two days.”

It was a new addition, but hardly a new purchase. The thing was a sagging two seater, covered in a beige tufted material that had seen better days. The cover wasn’t fitted well, and wrinkled like loose skin. Sao couldn’t imagine what it was doing there.

“You brought it?” he asked.

“Yeah. Wanna try it?”

Sao twirled his chair (which he imagined was the best seat in the room) and thought of the rubber-suited pest killers in the office the other day. “Maybe later. I have some good news after the calls last night.”

“Go ahead.”

Sao ran through the calls he made, first those of null effect, then moving onto Shadow Works, the link to the Flemings, and his cover of a project proposal - no mention of Hro, naturally.

“Better than anything I found. I scrounged up employee records for the gardener groundskeeping place, and spent all night digging into their histories and learned nothing.” Rai ground his teeth. “But you sweetened Umbre up, huh? That explained why the reception called me back. Just out of courtesy, though.”

“Do you think Umbre knows something?”

“He definitely knows more than what we’ve heard so far.”

“Then there’s still hope. In response to my… project proposal, Umbre’s willing to meet over dinner today. The actual Caelus Umbre, by some luck we weren’t deferred to some other designer. We’ll meet him in person.”

“You were invited.”

“Do you have a preferred time?” Sao said, pressing on. “I figured we can get more out of him with both of us there. I have a habit of rambling...”

“He isn’t expecting me there. Plus, I’m not dressed for some millionaire’s designers’ chat.”

“What millions do I own?” Sao laughed. “And you can get dressed up. I can lend you anything you need.”

Rai would clearly rather hop off the roof. “There's a reason I was afraid of calling. Artsy types aren't my... I think you can take Umbre on yourself. I’m not great with his kinda business. And I have another member of the Flemings’ list to follow up on. A few members, actually. As soon as I finish off this damn report.” Rai slapped the tower of paper to his right, sending a few sheets tumbling.

“Who’s left?”

“Sparrows. I got some rumored hangouts, a couple names, they’ve had surprisingly little police interaction for a gang but it’s something. Calling the known members didn’t work, no surprise, so I’ll give their hangouts a shot. And there’s...” Rai grimaced. “The hospital.”

“Yes, I did see Cadmus’s name on the list. Think he’s got what it takes cast a murder spell?”

“He’ll love to hear me ask. Say, you wanna handle that interview for me too?”

Sao reclined in his chair. “So, I suppose I won’t be chained back to a desk for my reaction yesterday?”

“You thinking of ducking out, right after telling me that you set up a meeting?” Rai’s wary red eyes peered over the top of his computer again. “I’m not sending you out alone because I think that lead’s worthless. I know you’ll get more out of Umbre than I can. If his info turns out to be crucial, and you don’t go, then nothing will get done.”

“Thank you for that.”

“For what?”

“Your trust, I suppose.”

Rai’s disgust was more than comparable to Hro’s, especially since he was sitting only a few feet away. Sao gave him another smile. “You remind me of my landlord right now.”

“Your landlord is a Chimera hotshot, right?”

A hotshot who runs the whole operation. “Something like that. But you reminds me more of the person than his job. You just… think on similar lines, sometimes.”

“Thought is cheap. I’d rather own something on par with his real estate. Any more palace apartments up for lend?”

“A palace, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. Not to mention, I can’t move anything in there, just angling the television sets him off. You can renovate your place. Any way you wanted, if you wanted...”

They both leered at the new couch. It cowered under their attention, cushions trying to sink into themselves. “Renovation is great so far,” Rai said. “Are you sure you don’t want to try it out?”

“Oh, I also called checked in on one of the children about some suspicion I had.” Sao was eager to turn away from the sad sight. “When I spoke to Karik briefly at the house, I saw a cut on his hand, a line across the palm. And old injury, but not completely healed. He had been picking at it a little with that string of bones he was playing with. He held the thing too tight and started bleeding when he got stressed. When the noise began.”

“That’s one way of putting it, yeah.”

“Kuro’s hands weren’t visible in the photos, but the child I spoke to last night, Ivor, all but confirmed that Kuro had a similar cut. And if the Fleming children’s blood somehow ended up on Chiro, at the site of a spellcasting, isn’t a cut on their palms suspicious? It’s almost like...”

“The dumb statement palm-slash of a magic ritual.”

Sao’s face fell slightly. “Well, I suppose it doesn’t have to sound so mystical.”

“You see it all the time in movies.” Rai inspected one of his own glowing palms. “I get it. It’s not something a sheltered kid would go doing on their own. But were they tricked into it? Or could it have been done while they were asleep? Does Kris have a cut too? And who would be able to pull it off? We could ask the Flemings.”

“Considering the parents are the only ones with frequent access to the children, that could get awkward,” Sao groaned.

“It’s going to get awkward no matter what.”

They considered this over the hum of the heating pipe and the bombardment on Rai’s keyboard. He had hardly stopped typing during their conversation.

“What are your thoughts on magic, Rai? As a resource.” Sao asked, not quite ready to check into his day’s assignments yet. “Would you be up for learning any of it, the formal stuff that the military offers? What they teach is limited, yes and there are limited uses on our daily life…”

“Of course I would. I want to know all of it. That’s why we’re knee deep in this Fleming mess.” Rai’s hands went still. “But Life Fountains can’t be magicians.”

Sao couldn’t see Rai’s expression behind the screens. “Why’s that?”

“Law. It’s not a matter of brains, or of power. In terms of brains, there’s nothing stopping someone like Cadmus from taking a course, learning the patterns or whatever. And in power, well, Life Fountains have no shortage of that. In fact, their Aura production makes up for a lot of the sacrifice and focus that humans need to fire off a big spell. But that’s also what makes it dangerous. The patterns were written up for humans, for effect useful on a human level. Life Fountains have a tendency to… overdo it. Without spells, Aura causes enough trouble. Give them the ability to funnel that power, with a tiny human-size funnel, and you’re asking for trouble. Try to light a candle, ends up with a neighborhood on fire. The romantic burden of great power, but who’s going to pay for the reconstruction? So no spells for Life Fountains. Banned from learning, banned from the registry. For everyone’s own good.”

“Does the same hold for half-blooded Life Fountains?” Sao offered. “The police are familiar with you, and what you can do, surely-”

“I’m not worth an exception. Anyway, it’s the law.”

Rai went quiet. Perhaps further encouragement was needed, but Sao’s slim knowledge of the whole field made any word precarious. He studied his desk and considered putting in a landline.

“You should, though,” Rai muttered.

“Sorry?”

“You should learn. Magic, I mean. The police are in dire need of more people with a sense for the stuff. Just knowing the basics, even if you don’t or can’t, I don’t know, cast anything. Even if you just sit through a class - I guess with the army - you’ll have a better idea of what to out for. Unless they remove you from the force for it. But you got connections with people in the know. You seem to have all kinds of connections.”

Sao thought of Hro, chafing at the very mention of magicians. “It’s all city folk. Chimera, so exclusively tech. My landlord even said he’d hang himself if technology were to collapse and the world were ruled by wizards.”

“Sure he would. He’s probably spent his whole life clawing to the top of his respective heap. If that collapsed it would be like the other team winning.”

“I didn’t think of that.” Sao sat up. “What team do you see yourself on?”

“Whatever will have me. Maybe if society implodes I’ll be allowed to look at a magic script. Until that happens, at least we’ve got computers and records.” Rai shook his head. “Not necessarily good records either. I’ll be honest, pretty much everything I know has just been out of trash news and whatever the TV makes up.”

“Your movies?” Sao grinned faintly, thinking of the litany of ghouls he’d seen at Rai’s own desk. His right-side monitor was almost always occupied with the most unpleasant films he could find.

“Writers get their ideas from somewhere. Same place the trash sites get their stories. There are a few underground magic groups, weaklings or old folk practitioners, people the government won’t bother tracking, but loose lipped enough to let slip what a couple rituals are like.”

“So you’re saying these ‘trash news’ have a point.”

“You heard it yourself, even noted hermit millionaire Red Fleming reads them.”

“And he was quick to pick up on the curse theory.” Sao tried not to remember the old man’s distended mouth, his teeth, and his echoing wail. “God, a curse on your family. What do you do?”

“We’ll find out when we check in with them again.” Rai crossed his arms, abandoning his mountainous report to focus on the curse. The curse may well have been the more pleasant line of thought. “When I think about it, if Red’s got it together better than we thought, the Flemings might find out who did this faster than we can. They also have the benefit of knowing anything they didn’t tell us.”

“A good thing if they do, perhaps? No need to call them back anymore.”

“I guess.”

Another moment of silence. Sao heard traffic gathered in the street outside. The horns continued far past their poetic effect, and Rai, after checking his raft of cups for a saving drop of coffee, hopped out of his chair in frustration.

“Don’t read into this.”

“Read into what?”

“There’s always the chance the Flemings cut their own kids’ hands. If it’s even relevant. I don’t think they would kill their child, maybe they did by accident, maybe it was all just crazy coincidence. But if it is a third party, and if they do catch who did this, on their own… whoever this amateur magician is and whatever their reason, if the Flemings get their hand on him, or her.” He spread his palms and (Sao was never sure how) emitted a quick pulse of light. That nasty smile. “Scorch the earth.”

Sao watched him circle the room.

“I guess that could be fun. To watch, that is. Especially if the family did have something to do with it.” Rai’s face sank when he neared the shamble of a couch. He dithered as if thinking of lying down, but instead circled the office and went to the kitchen to get a new cup of coffee.

---

The earth, far from scorched but instead coated in a powder of fine snow, stretched luxuriously in the fading sun outside the glass-walled dining room where Sao was to have his dinner with Caelus Umbre.

The decor was a refined medley of wood and steel. Shining fixtures hung like low, angular tree branches, soaking the table in a pool of golden light. The reservation was in something of a booth, the walls made of thin cross-sections from some gargantuan tree trunk. It was quiet, and he could hear the tune of a piano through the speaker. Overlaying that, a low crackle of voices, and he was surprised to see a few children.

Sao flipped through the menu and smiled. Pizzas. Burgers. Potatoes with smiles cut in them. What child could resist? He was tempted by the popcorn peanut butter milkshake, capped with a curl of cream, but it wasn’t the wisest order for a (supposed) business meeting. Maybe afterward.

Surely it wouldn’t have been difficult for Rai to play along with the phony design meeting? But his supervisor had been more than adamant. Well, Sao concluded as he basked in the overhead heater, it would be his loss.

His attention moved to fascinating interior again - in truth, he was trying not to look outside.

At the edge of the lawn, fringed by chairs and canopies that were tied up for the winter, was the ominously familiar white gazebo. Why did that image have to follow him there?

Umbre was late. Sao doubled back on the menu and its bountiful sights, and off the darkness beginning to wrap around the shape of the gazebo in his mind. It was hard not to consider the possibilities. He rubbed his eyes and rested them for a minute.

When he opened them, he saw man so pale he may have been a ghost. White hair, ice blue, near-white eyes, white skin with neat angular ridges, and an white suit that looked like origami. And he certainly did not wear an expression infused with life. Thankfully, Sao had managed to search up images of this man to prepare himself, because Rai would have another mysterious ‘heart attack’ on his hands otherwise.

“Mr. Umbre,” he said.

“You must be Sao.”

“I am. Please, have a seat. You really got us the best table in the house.”

Umbre cracked a smile, then cracked it right off again and sat down, folding his hands over the tablecloth, inspecting Sao closely. Perhaps the ruse was already over. Or perhaps he was daring Sao to ask why there was no handshake - but that was more to Sao’s relief than anything.

An early silence was worrying. Umbre was carrying nothing with him, no baggage, no conversation starters, no prompts to begin.

“Shadow Works did the designs for this place,” Umbre said suddenly, gesturing around them without looking at any of it. “The whole chain.”

“It’s perfect. So many fascinating shapes.” Sao’s hand hovered over a folder beside him when held the bogus proposal. His eyes flickered to the gazebo again.

“You said you’re a friend of the Flemings.”

Sao blinked. “So are you.” It sounded like a childish comeback. “They... they spoke a bit about you, when I mentioned needing designers. For the meeting space.”

“How are they doing? I haven’t seen then in a long time.”

Sao blinked again, hard, in surprise, and left the folder. “Not well, unfortunately. They were holding it together when I met them, but you could tell that they were under pressure.”

“You mentioned something on the call. A recurring nightmare. Is... Red alright?”

“Oh, Red Fleming is just fine,” Sao assured him, wondering if it was right to call the situation fine. “He’s in good health, especially after the hospital stay. No, it was...” he bit his lip. “His son. And grandson.”

“The son, that’s Chiro. The grandson… one of the triplets? I recall Karik, was it, having some trouble...”

“Kuro’s the one.”

“Kuro. And Kris, right. I really haven’t spoken to Red in so long… I spoke briefly with Art while he was in hospital, but things were tense. Since he got out they haven’t picked up my calls.”

“You and police both.” Sao bit his own tongue.

“The police? It’s that bad?”

“It’s...”

“What happened?”

Sao turned away from that crushing stare. He pretended to confirm the family nearby was not trying to listen in, nor were any of the waitstaff. Why would they? It was dinnertime, in a perfectly pleasant establishment, what would they want to do with a murdered man and child? “I’m sorry you have to hear the news from me. Chiro was found collapsed near the house last week. Kuro was found in a different location on the property, a few days later. They… they’ve passed on.”

Sao sipped some water and watched Caelus Umbre falter before him - for a second he appeared to be exhausted, his shoulders dropping - but then he was back in his frozen form.

“But why would they…” Umbre’s eyes sharpened. “How did it happen? Did someone break in? Red wouldn’t have let it happen. But they didn’t suffer, much? It all happened on the property?”

“I wish I had more to tell you. Investigators don’t know, the family doesn’t seem to know either, it seems like a freak accident but-”

“Where did it happen? You said it happened near the house, where specifically?”

“Both were found outside, separate mornings. Kuro, I wasn’t clear on it, but he was in the forest. Chiro in the garden, just off the path by, um...” Sao couldn’t help glancing at the fateful structure’s mirror image outside.

“Not there. Chiro really… in his mother’s garden...”

“Y-yes.” Sao gulped more water to buy some time. “They didn’t appear to suffer.” Thinking of those frozen faces, he wasn’t sure. “Well. They were both found without any injury.”

“Was it the cold then? No, they would just walk home, if they were that close… please don’t tell me it was a heart condition...”

“That’s what it is. On paper, anyway. But there are other theories. The police have been looking into something more sinister.”

“Of course. One after another, that isn’t natural...”

Caelus Umbre had his arched fingers pressed against his forehead for support. Sao waited.

“The garden. As if they needed more painful memories. Did you see the place? Were they taking care of it?”

“Considering it’s the dead of winter, everything looked quite well maintained. Chiro was actually found by the groundskeeping crew that came in once in a while. So...” Sao recalled the empty fountain. “The garden was set up by Sibil Fleming?”

“It was something of a park, that was the plan. She set up, but never finished. It’s asleep, that’s what Red said. Like it might wake up again. But Sibil was gone, so it never did.” Umbre shook his head. “You’ve met the family, I don’t think I have to explain to you how they are. They wear their hearts and habits on their sleeve, you’ve probably come to your own conclusions. Sibil wasn’t much different, but in other ways she was completely separate. They both came from money, but they were on completely separate wavelengths. Red is a homebody. Health and safety first. But he couldn’t keep her away from the outdoors.”

“That hillside mansion is a dream for someone like that.”

“She had dreams, alright. From her talk, the place would become a fairytale kingdom. Rocks, water and flowers, all over. Her designs could be crude, but they had heart, it was just unfortunate she never got to refine them. A couple of setups scared the kids. Red was upset.” He smiled, thawing a bit. “I might be partially to blame. I was just starting my make my own works, some of them were… less than stellar. Sibil took whatever I made, though. It didn’t matter.”

“Sounds like she was a lovely person.”

“She could look severe to fit the part of a Fleming, but let’s say, she had a softer voice.”

Sao smiled knowingly. “I wish I could have met her. I didn’t see many photos at the house.”

“Really? I suppose Red was never the kind...” Umbre slid out a dark block of a wallet, made of fabric that shone like brushed metal. He pulled something out, without even having to look. “There she is.”

In the photo there was a woman who looked very much like Art, with slightly lighter hair and an almost unrecognizably light expression, standing among some familiar friends - that is, the human-shaped wire sculptures in the Fleming’s garden.

“Special occasion, or you keep a picture of Mrs Fleming on you?” Sao asked.

“I have… I have a few.” Umbre began squirm and cracked open his wallet again, shuffling through. “Photos, not just of her. Of clients, high profile clients, those who were friends, as a reminder...”

“That’s admirable.”

“Is it?”

Sao pushed the photo back. “I wish I had friends for my wallet. I never gave it much thought. Guess I’ll have to make some first.”

“You’re still young. You’ll find them.”

“I’ll start with my two-person office.” Sao laughed.

“It is hard, meeting people once you start work. That and keeping in touch.” Umbre picked up his glass of water, his skin almost blue with the contact. He sipped and murmured very quietly, “Sibil was one thing. Red was another. We were friends since primary school.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“The only person I’ve kept in touch with from that long ago. Probably because he’s always been in the same place. So it wasn’t just for her...” His eyes dipped. “Sibil died when Chiro and Art were kids. Eight and ten. She had a weak heart. Red said they both did.”

Sao sat forward. “A heart attack?”

“That’s what the doctors said. It was so sudden. Sibil’s family never insisted on any further investigation, didn’t even come for the funeral. Red didn’t want to extend the strain this had on the household. Art and Chiro were old enough to know what happened, they didn’t need any more stress, any more invasions.”

Sao folded his arms, staring straight ahead. “They seem very private even now. Very… tightly knit.”

“Is that so?” Umbre swivelled his cup, forming a tiny icy whirlpool. “Red was a disaster when Sibil died. He hadn’t said much to me before then, I only got messages through his wife, but he reached out. I tried to help out, even lived in the house for a few years. To help watch the kids. Red’s new business happened to be taking off around then… so you have two eccentrics trying to start careers while raising two wild kids. Not sure how well I did. But Art and Chiro were...” He gazed out the window, at the gazebo. “They learned fast. We got along. I never touched the garden, though. Red talked about it sometimes, but nobody went out there.”

Again, his frozen veneer wavered.

“How was Chiro? Before it happened. Did anything seem off?”

Sao pushed all the hospital rumors to the back of his thoughts and said, “According to the family, he seemed fine. A homebody, like Red, kept to himself. Not a bad way to be.”

“I see. I worried about him, sometimes. Spooked by his own shadow, which in turn terrified Red. It’s good to know he--” Umbre shrugged. “Does this sound out of line? I don’t have any kids, even now. Closest I got were Art and Chiro, of course, they weren’t really mine, and now he...”

He looked out at the snow again.

All the money in the world.

“Anyway, the career part picked up while I was living there, and Red came into some inheritance and seemed alright - so I moved out. No arguments, though we did agree all at once that some distance might be good, the press were starting to take an unsavory interest. The kids… ah, I like to think they missed me, but I didn’t hear much. I continued to make contributions over the years, school funds, mostly. Thought it might help.”

“Some savings for the kids, I’m sure they’ll come to appreciate it.”

“They were payments.” Umbre turned back toward the dining room. “The Flemings aren’t that rich.”

Sao tried not to look too confounded. How rich does that make you?

“I know how it looks. There’s something about the house and family that draws you in. On those hills, in that house, they look like the most fearsome family in the world. Borderline mythical.”

The place had certainly made an effect on Sao, he could only wonder what Umbre gained from living in it.

“Things went mostly quiet when Chiro graduated, the kids were grown up now. I gifted the family a few pieces when I heard of Art’s engagement but that was the last I heard from Red. Until the lawyers. That’s how I learned Red was in hospital. Lawyers.” He seemed more perplexed than upset. “I was to execute his will.”

“But he wasn’t dead,” Sao said. It sounded hazardous, as if he hadn’t seen Red bouncing down the stairs just days ago.

“And thank god for that. There was some confusion, confused calls from Art and her husband to the law offices. Turned out the doctors thought he was braindead, and Art panicked, but in any case, I was asked to read over the will and check in on the family since Sibil, the original executor, couldn’t make it.” He gave a bare smile. “I tried. Art was upset, I couldn’t say anything - she was in tears, it was the first time I had seen her in over ten years. Chiro wasn’t in the hospital at the time. Art’s husband was...” he paused. “And the triplets were there. I didn’t want to push things, and thankfully I learned that Red wasn’t quite dead, but just in a coma. And a week later, he was all better.” His smile solidified. “I learned that from the hospital when I tried to visit a second time. Looking pretty idiotic carrying gifts for a person who had already checked out. But it was good news. I didn’t have to help Art and Chiro through another parent’s passing.”

“I can’t imagine. Executing a friend’s will… seeing what they were leaving and to who...”

“Well. I wasn’t on it.”

Sao startled, but Umbre looked completely at ease, even comfortable. “It was an agreement we all had, Sibil too. Money only goes to the children. In case anything went awry between us, there wouldn’t be much motive to murder.” Umbre let out an uncharacteristic snort, which stopped almost as abruptly as it began. “Bad taste to speak of it, but I still believe in the idea. Call it morbid, but Sibil was a fan of that kind of thing. Too many suspense movies. She was always warning us.”

“What a concept,” Sao said, digesting.

“You’re skeptical? I could probably get you a rundown of the contents.”

“Is that legal?”

“I don’t know yet. Would it be useful?”

Sao opened his mouth, and closed it. Why would he, a supposed Chimera interior planner, need to know about Red’s will?

“For morbid interest, I suppose.”

Umbre nodded and flipped over his menu, then signaled to the waiter and ordered. He wanted a roast duck pizza.

“Sounds novel,” Sao laughed.

“There’s something about it I can’t resist.” Umbre smiled. “One thing I can appreciate away from the Flemings - the food. Red was always picky, or should I say, over-cautious. After losing Sibil, he had a serious health crisis. Placed a ban on anything that might have sugar, salt, preservatives, or flavor. He must have been terrified. But it was… difficult. Red isn’t frivolous. Time didn’t change his mind.”

The pizza was a dazzling bed of golden cheese, brown sauce and slices of duck meat, a thin trim, of glistening fat on each one. It was utterly devoid of nostalgia and looked delicious.

“I know it’s a difficult time for them, but I’m sure Red would appreciate you dropping by,” Sao asked, trying to balance the cucumber and leek shavings on his slice.

“Red’s never been a fan of ‘dropping by’,” Umbre said. “But they won’t pick up any calls. I’d rather not intrude, but I have been meaning to give a gift. I’ve been holding onto it...”

With a miraculously un-oily hand, Umbre slipped out another photo. Three statues, again, made of spun wire, like the ones in the garden. As if there weren’t enough of them. These were three, identically sized forms, some Shadow Works staff standing over them like giants - no - the forms were just the size of children.

Sao swallowed and grinned as it dawned on him. “The triplets? So you’ve made the whole family.”

“I hate to think of them apart. Tell me the truth, is it a silly obsession? And the heights -- they’re ten? Eleven? What do you think? Are the shapes accurate?”

Sao had no idea how accurate a hollow form made of coiled wire could be, but he could already picture them together with the rest. In front of their grand home, among spring flowers and family, they’d fit in perfectly. A dog to play with too. He said so.

“A dog?” Umbre said, his face creased into a frown above his pizza. “There’s no dog.”

“Hm. I remember a four legged statue among them, dog sized, but--” Sao was suddenly unsure.

“That’s a pig.”

Sao blanched, some pizza crust caught in this throat.

“Carion’s animal of choice. They never owned one in that house, as far as I know, though they planned to. I remember Red told me distinctly - Art went crazy for the animals after she met him. Carion lived near a pig farm.”

Sao was silent. The elongated snout of door knocker rushed back to him. And the odd animal embroidered on the carpet - teeth like a devil, Rai said. Tusk. And that tail. He kicked himself, for claiming it was a fox, what kind of fox had curly string for a tail?

“Carion… He’s a strange one. What sort of name is that, is it even real? Never got his full name, even on the wedding cards he was using the surname Fleming. They met while Art was on vacation. The Flemings’ vacations are always to some quiet, isolated places, places where they have their own house ready and nobody else around. Villages. Earthy places. Not your overbearing resorts.”

Sao admired his repression of less tasteful descriptors. “So Carion was a pig farmer?”

“No.” Umbre frowned. “The summary I got sounded strange to me, I remember it. He lived near a pig farm - lots of them in the area, but didn’t live on it, and it wasn’t his work. I don’t know what he did. Maybe hunting.”

Somehow, Sao couldn’t imagine that. But what did he know about Carion?

“Still, the man impressed Art, and that’s not easy… for her to even consider a husband, or an animal in the house, to think of pigs. She was always adventurous, so maybe... Did you meet him?”

“Yes. He seemed pleasant enough.”

“Good…” This was less effusive than Umbre’s other thoughts on the family.

“He really cares about the kids. He and Art are a tight unit in that. He’s loyal. Very sympathetic.”

“I suppose I don’t like him much just because I don’t know him. There was too much distance between myself and the Flemings by the time he came in. I know if I were to really talk to him, we’d be fine. Art chose him, after all...”

“You miss them.”

“Something about the house. Places like that have a sort of binding charm. It makes any loss from it all the worse.”

A charm or a curse? Sao looked out onto the snow, now lit only by the streetlights and the glow of the windows.

Umbre finished off the last of the pizza. There was not so much as a stain on his plate. He wiped his immaculate hands on an equally immaculate napkin and tended to his phone, which had begun to ring. “Another meeting across town.”

“Have I kept you that long?” Sao patted the folder of files that were still happily untouched. “I guess we’ll have to talk about this some other time.”

Umbre peered down at him, as if he were some small animal. But not an unpleasant one. He pulled out a gold trimmed pen and wrote some numbers on a fresh napkin. “My phone, a direct line. The Shadow receptionists have no reason to hide information, but if there’s anything you need, you can come straight to me.”

His handwriting was neat and angular, like the metal branch lights above them. Sao reached out, hesitant, as if it were a trick. “Thank you.”

“Any news - about the Flemings. Forget the proposal. You don’t have to follow up on that.”

The trick hit home.

“The document was professional, no doubt about that, but it could not possibly have been real. Chimera is a very particular company. Our styles clash and always will. I had something of a run-in with the managing director. A controlling man. The company, or rather, the man himself would never stoop so low as to ask for business with Shadow Works.” Umbre inspected him closely. “And you may have some kind of connection, but I doubt you work for Chimera.”

Sao took the napkin and sighed. “You figured me out.”

“You’re not… chilly enough. I was already guessing police. Perhaps a friend of Friday’s frequent caller?”

Umbre was not upset, and it struck Sao how chilly the Chimera staff must be for even Umbre himself to say so. He laughed and threw his hands up. “I thought it was strange you didn’t ask me how I knew the Flemings.”

“That part wasn’t important once I assumed you were police. I’ve seen the news.”

“The only news stories running are speculative. Other than the… ‘entertainment’ pieces,” Sao said helpfully. “The details aren’t out yet. Any newspapers running the story are just throwing out speculation.”

“But the police are involved. And they’re thinking of exorcists.”

Sao laughed again, a bit too quickly. “Not quite.”

“They say something followed Red out of his coma. That he should have been dead… what if… Sibil?”

Sao did not have the heart or guts to attempt an answer. But Umbre was unable to remove himself from this rapturous, terrifying thought without help. His face was flat, almost undead. After a hopeless minute Sao exhaled, loudly dusted off his pant legs and picked up the folder containing the thoroughly rejected proposal. “Don’t let me keep you from your real business.”

“Yes.” Umbre collected his wallet and photos. “That’s right. Thank you for the talk, if not the business.”

“The pleasure was all mine. I will try to keep you informed of the investigation when I can. You don’t mind if I give you number to my supervisor? He may call to confirm some of your points.”

“As long as it’s not a Chimera supervisor, I think I can handle it.”

Golden smiles all around. When it seemed that Caelus Umbre was finally thinking of shaking hands, Sao deftly avoided the motion by pulling out his Chimera director’s privilege card and covering the bill. The last look he got from Umbre told him he had broken the ice at last.

---

“Who puts duck on pizza?”

“It was good. A bit sweet, a hint of chili…” Sao cradled his phone and curled into the corner of the bus stop, but it was no warmer than anywhere else. “Look, you’re the one who enjoys frogs in burgers.”

“It’s the mushrooms, not the frogs. The frogs grow the mushrooms.”

“Of course.”

Rai was messing with something that sent a fierce crackling down the line. “Anyway, keep going. Sounds like he had plenty to say even though he knew you were with the police.”

Sao ran through what he remembered quickly. The conversation had shifted easily from one point to another, it was easy to recount. He and Umbre had meshed well. “I doubt he had anything to do with the deaths, he didn’t know any of the details. I can’t imagine someone like him sneaking onto that hill and dumping blood all over someone he helped raise. He loved those kids. He’s the only person I’ve heard from until now to say anything nice about Chiro Fleming.”

“Oh boy,” Rai said. “You like him. And both of you like the Flemings.”

“What, you think he’s suspicious? You didn’t even want to meet him. Wait - don’t say it. Meeting them’s a great way to lose all objectivity. I know.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Rai mumbled.

“I just can’t see a reason why he’d want to hurt them. He seems caring, but… content to be distant, you know? He also knew that he wasn’t on the will.”

“If that’s true. I’ll be giving him a call to check on that. But money doesn’t have to be the motivation. Especially for someone like him who’s already swimming in it.”

Sao wedged himself further into the small green half-walled canopy of the bus stop. “Do what you need to. I doubt they were killed for money.”

“I doubt it too.” He heard Rai’s finger tapping in thought. Rai continued, “Pigs. They just keep coming up. Carion’s animal, huh? He may or may not have worked on a farm?”

“He lived in a farming village, but did not work at a farm. Umbre said that Red made that much clear. Perhaps trying to avoid associating his new son-in-law with a lowly line of work. But considering that link, perhaps these attacks, curse or whatnot, are targeting Carion.”

“Someone digging up his past. No, the Flemings seem pretty aware of where he came from. Maybe an old farm hand getting revenge on Carion for marrying upward, who knows. Plus, old villages are hotbeds for old shamanic rituals. Unregulated stuff - you can’t keep buckets of pig blood in the city, but out there on a pig farm? You could go wild.”

Sao made a face at his phone. “Okay, so targeting his child as a means of revenge, perhaps. But what about Chiro? Why make such a bloody scene of Carion’s brother in law?”

“Maybe Chiro was an initial sacrifice. Made him a blood offering, to set things in motion.”

“Setup? Offerings? Is that typical for magicians?”

“I don’t know. Or maybe Chiro caught them as they were setting up the curse, and this wizard or warlock hit him with an energy blast. Chiro was alone. He might have seen someone strange in the garden. Or he could have been targeted because he was alone.”

Sao looked up and down the empty street and shivered.

Rai’s end of the phone gave a tinny wail that must have been his car’s heater. “Where are you?”

“Pricey north end mall. Waiting for the bus.”

“Don’t the buses in that area only come every half hour? And in the snow… who knows when it will be there.” A trying pause. “Are you cold?”

“Oh, not much.” Sao tugged together his coat, which suddenly felt very thin, and wondered if he was being mocked. Rai was full of energy, shouting mightily over that monstrous heater of his. And then the engine roaring.

“I’m coming from HQ, I’ll pick you up.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I’m gonna do it anyway.”

Sao sighed, sending a wall of mist into his own face. “Thanks.”

“I have something to show you before you head home.”