Sunrise began with coffee.
And with Kimi, who asked to find something. As usual.
But not without profit for the Secretary. Kimi had reheated Ami's lukewarm coffee because she'd come here first with a request. It was becoming a tradition.
— Blimey, I shouldn't be here heating coffee for you! — the officer exclaimed suddenly, setting the cup on the ledge and smacking her forehead.
— Sorry for being a waste of your time and energy. — Ami smirked.
— That wasn't what I meant. — the Selva waved dismissively. — You don't have the documents I need. All the 'disappearance' cases are with Milo. As has been usual for the last few cycles. Dreadful business. But he seems overly fixated on them, don't you think?
— And you need them because...? — Ami took a sip of the pleasantly warm coffee, squinting slightly with pleasure. Omillishly.
— I suspect people aren't vanishing *in* the forest. There are strange noises, odd things and bla-bla-bla, but I'm sure the Forest itself isn't to blame. And not just because my turn for forest patrol is next light.
— Of course not. — Amelia nodded teasingly.
The temple officer made a comical face in answer.
— Good luck sticking to your theory. Milo seems rather protective of his own versions. Though you could always ask to do the patrol instead of me.
— Ami, I'd be chuffed. Believe me. But Milo will object. Still, do ask him, of course. Though… This season isn't ideal for tramping through the Omillian part of the Forest. Everything's waterlogged. Soggy grass, soggy boots, soggy draperies, chilly draughts down your neck... Ruins your whole impression of Omill. But I suppose you don't care.
— True. Beggars can't be choosers. I might not get another season. Still hunting for the anomalies, then?
— Yes. Also checking if any locals are lost in the woods, in trouble, or need help, as usual. Patrols are more frequent now and involve more officers. Maybe Milo will be more accommodating; everyone is so knackered.
— And how does Milo expect to spot these anomalies? In the "traditional" way, like before? Where does one of you vanish?
Kimi giggled.
— Suppose so. He... rather over-relies on our intuition, or something. Honestly, I don't know what I'd do in his place. I doubt the Academy provides instructions for situations like these.
— Milo says we're short-staffed and couldn't manage our core duties. And now we're throwing the manual to the swamp and sending people out alone but still not including non-witches in patrols. I… personally, I don't know what to think.
— Don't look at me. I don't know either. Presumably because of the frequency. I just trust Milo, you know; he's the Chief and these orders are his responsibility. A huge responsibility. I don't envy him.
— Maybe it makes sense, you know. If you started vanishing in pairs, you'd need twice as many replacements.
The officer swiftly reached a hand through the window and lightly flicked Ami's forehead with three fingers.
— Oi! Kimi! I don't miss Lavy! No need to duplicate her whilst she's asleep. I saw petitions to Sandra and the Chief Administration on Milo's desk. To increase staffing, asking other services to join our patrols. Or mobilising volunteers.
— So, if we're running out of staff... perhaps you will stay here. Even after Lucy returns. If the Kantinians hand you over.
The Omillian spread her hands and gave a wide, Selva-style grin.
— I think ours will hand me over gladly. — the Secretary grinned. — Unless they decide spitefully to keep me, just to deny Omill. Beyond my courier duties, I'm of little value to the Department.
— Ami, don't talk like that; you're sabotaging the morale of the Station.
— Why d'you need it? — the secretary smiled slyly. — It's so cosy here.
— See you later.
Kimi saluted and headed for Milo's office.
Ami ought to pop by him later too. She could innocently inquire if she could perhaps stroll through the forest instead of someone.
She was tired to death of passively sitting in a closet and studying documents. More than her colleagues were tired of the additional workload. She needed relaxation and movement like air. Like the fresh air of the Omill forest. Yes, she went for walks after work. But it wasn't the same. She had been studying the matter for so long that she simply could not wait to take part in it all directly. As an operative, which is what she actually was.
She drifted over to her desk with the spread-out notes, symbols, and witchgraphs in annoyance. But didn't manage to study them because of more activity at the dispatch window.
…What now?..
— Ami…
— I am Ami. You are not. Lucky you. Yes, Irji. What can I do for you?
— Haha. Take these cases off me, and this – could you pop it over to Milo? I'm in a rush.
Irji sounded worried.
So Ami mustered all the warmth and calm she had and put it into her reply.
— Course I can. Off you go, and mind yourself.
The officer snorted loudly and seemed to perk up.
— Thanks. See you!
"You all say that."
Convenient timing, in fact. A perfect moment to reach the Chief, who had sneakily kept the "tastiest" documents for himself to read comfortably with his coffee.
The Secretary scooped up the documents left by Irji and resolutely marched towards the boss' office.
— Milo.
— Yes? — he replied without looking up from the tablets.
She hadn't even started annoying him yet... But he already seemed annoyed.
Intuition told her this occasionally quite nefarious Omillian trickster knew why she was here.
This was for the best. It made things easier.
And it was in his interest to cooperate; otherwise, she'd linger longer, extracting information piecemeal and irritating him. He definitely wanted to get rid of her quickly.
— I've brought something from Irji. For a more convincing simulation of frenzied labour.
— Splendid. Drop it here.
The Chief waved wearily, not acknowledging the quip.
Those files on his desk... must be what Kimi mentioned. Something new. Truly important.
— These tablets you have here… — Ami began cautiously, edging closer to the documents. — Do you… still need them?
— I do.
Swamp gnats! He was determined to keep them for himself!
— Rather… large stacks. — the bored, curious Secretary managed through gritted teeth, trying not to growl. — And so frightfully little material to go on.
Engrossed in studying the clay bounty, Milo paid no heed to the threatening undertone in her voice.
"Ami, relax. He owes you nothing. You can ask. But not demand."
— Is the Forest still a prime suspect? — she enquired. — I mean, from the *small* number of protocols I saw, I understood that the Forest was the first thing almost all the amnesiacs remembered when they came round… But they're unsure. Yes. But… Isn't it risky, then, sending constables to patrol alone?
Milo snapped his head up, giving her an angry glare.
Clearly, she'd touched a nerve. The decision was uncomfortable for him too.
— Our people can handle themselves! — he snapped. — We've patrolled the forest like this since the Station was founded!
Amelia quickly raised her hands in a conciliatory gesture.
— Don't kill me! I volunteer to help. After my work, if needed, but better instead of it.
— We already discussed it.
— That was before the patrols became more frequent. I want to help. I'm so deeply immersed in this gnatty topic that I just can't stay away anymore.
— Ami, stop it. I spoke to Sandra about increasing our numbers or mobilising volunteers, and it'll happen soon. Dismissed.
Milo wearily pushed his hat slightly forward, shading his eyes.
— Wait. I analysed the Caravan logs as you suggested.
— And? — The Chief's disapproving gaze returned to the Secretary.
— Can't shake the feeling the trouble comes from Kantine. It's not about myself, and it's not because I think my hometown is the epicentre of all evil on the Mainland. But the first memory loss cases were recorded precisely there. I believe the troubles just come *through* Omill. Simply because all major roads converge here. We must cooperate with the other cities and ask for their logs to see the whole picture.
— The VST does that. And that's why the Temples started the exchange programme.
— Yes. Not to give me the opportunity to bother you. It'll end soon, but before it does I want to help. I need more information to analyse. And I require a change of scene for a couple of lights.
— Take a short leave. Besides, patrolling will be reduced soon. A significant portion of the events occur within the city limits. I'm about to propose posting observers along the Trade Tract and near the Warehouses. I'm certain – that way we'll quickly track and stop all this. You are right about that. Wherever it comes from, it must pass through Omill. But I'm not sure about Kantine. How would Kantinians manage tricks of such complex witchery that baffle even seasoned Temple witches? Highly unlikely.
— I'm not saying the Kantinians themselves are behind it. I'm saying someone is operating *from* Kantine. Let me explain. I came to this conclusion back in my city, starting from the light I accidentally got hold of data on caravans from Prime. I was just starting out, little experience... But even then, it seemed someone had slacked or fiddled. As if afraid of something. Goods were coming in far exceeding Kantine's internal needs. Had I bothered to check the warehouses, I'd surely have noticed. And that it all vanished without settling in Kantine. It was… *interesting*. More interesting than these disappearance cases, which were rare. There weren't that many people vanishing; cases weren't as high-profile as missing property. So, they were closed and forgotten, lost among other problems. The victims were likely mostly loners and terribly unpopular. Because no family would ever allow valuable labour to vanish. They'd gnaw through walls and the Chief of Order's skull to get their layabouts back onto the fields. So it just passed by a city full of gossips, but extracting valuable information is even more difficult than shaking it out of you here.
Milo chuckled, and Amelia continued.
— I got some details because I dwell on things. Where better for powerful witches to hide than in a witch-phobic city? In that atmosphere of denial, it's easiest to conceal real vice. Shout loudest that you don't have it, and accuse others of misusing it, and the job's done.
— That's bordering on philosophical.
— Yes, there are more mystics here. I'll bring you a copy of my records… Oh. It's in Kantinian. I'll translate it. Now I'll take these unneeded cases and leave.
— Take these, and let your report focus more on the smuggling angle. That's most interesting and promising. We must concentrate on something; otherwise, our heads will burst.
"Lucky your hat holds it together."
— And give me the approximate disappearance and amnesia data for Kantine.
Milo adjusted his headgear.
— It'll be very approximate.
— I'm fine with that.
— You know how it goes. 'Lost in a Forest'. "Gone to another city". Or even that famous 'Came from the Wasteland after disappearing from a Tavern' case, based on which our orderists happily decided they'd found the universal solution. A couple of taverns were closed. Not faffing about with this nonsense for cycles. Highly efficient.
— Quite so.
— Long absence of serious incidents makes everyone complacent. It feels like we'd hardly had any before this. Something to tell the others for a laugh... These lights, everything changed. And I'm somewhat itching to observe the situation after returning to Kantine. At least, it'll make sense and won't be boring anymore. I'll try squeezing information out as methodically as I do from you now.
The Chief looked up at her again.
— Commendable zeal, but let the VST observe. It's terribly dangerous.
— I'll be on my home ground. And face fewer pointless restrictions.
— Not so pointless.
— And the VST will stick out there like a sore thumb. All they can do is trace the orders of goods from outside.
— They're on it.
— And?
— Fruitless so far, I think. Kyle doesn't report to us in detail.
— Can we make him?
— You can. But only by becoming the Head of the VST.
— Gnats... That won't be anytime soon.
— No, not anytime soon. Where does all this enthusiasm come from…
Milo sighed wearily.
— I told you. My entire cognitive process now consists of studying tablets because my world has shrunk to a dark little cubbyhole. I desperately want to be part of all this. I really want to help. I could poke about the Forest. For instance, instead of Kimi.
— You don't know the local Forest like Kimi does. There are anomalies. Natural or... not. Which is... rather creepy. You don't have witch-sense or intuition. So it would be just a walk for you. You can do that anytime without putting our Temples in danger of taking responsibility if anything happens to you whilst you're here.
*"How long must we be pushed about like furniture?"*
*"As long as necessary. The power's in his hands. Whinging is useless."*
— Alright. — the Secretary continued, shifting her expression to a more placid one. — To summarise. They will search for appearances at a certain time or created anomalies. Barely findable. Unless lucky. Or unlucky. Who could create it? Not many, I suppose. Which narrows the search. The Mainland itself. Exceptionally powerful witches. Or Elves, maybe. The first and third options mean we can close the case immediately and wait patiently to see how it ends. If it turns out to be the second option…
— Terrifying. To live knowing someone can do such things, and even worse, that it's done deliberately. Smuggling, fine. Hoarding, fine. But... Abductions? Memory wiping? Unthinkable. I hope it's a natural anomaly.
— And if it is elves?
— What would be the motive?
— To snatch the males.
— What?!
"We really managed to surprise him".
— Kantinians say elves lack males, so they occasionally snatch ours, regardless of looks or age... Seems to me more like projections from the Kantinian women themselves. Such peculiar theories are standard practice in Kantine.
— I hope you won't hold that as a working theory?
— Only for amusement. Though, Elves are such enigmas, one could invent all sorts about them. An informational void needs filling; even with rubbish, it's human nature. And the first thing heard lodges in the brain permanently. That's why I'm trying to fill my head with the contents of these tablets instead of the products of my imagination.
— If you keep consuming all the information found on the Mainland, your ginger head will soon splinter into bits.
— At least I'll die happy. By the way, Davin's report mentioned something. Could I have a look at the interesting knick-knacks found?
— Alright. You've earned it. But just a look.
Milo retrieved the items from the safe. Ami peered at the oddly attractive little objects. They were so peculiar. The materials were strange. What was their function?
Surely they weren't created just to perplex. But even if they were, what were they made of?
They looked smooth. This stick seemed made of the same material as the first item. This one was... so thin! What was it? Extraordinary! Like clay heated to translucency, but incredibly thin! With… a liquid inside? It was hard to imagine rolling clay that thinly. A pity they couldn't be touched. Or appropriated.
What were they for? How were they formed? Zero answers. Like everything connected to these cases.
— Well?
Milo was clearly pleased with the effect. As if he'd crafted the items himself.
— Stunning… — Ami breathed out, shaking her head in astonishment. — Breathtaking. Witchgraphs don't convey it. Are they… Dwarven? Joullish, maybe?
The officer returned the evidence to the safe.
— Maybe.
— Is this all that was found?
— There are four of them. The most intriguing ones Kyle took with him, as I said.
— Will the VST chap bring them back? — Amelia stared at the Chief with genuine interest.
— Aye. Those we'll need until the investigation ends. The rest stay with the VST, thoroughly analysed, witchgraphed and so on.
— Jolly good fun for them. — Ami clicked her tongue enviously. — So many fascinating things pass through their hands.
— Things one has absolutely no clue what to do with. — Milo grimaced. — An object can be dangerous. Toxic. Or it breaks during examination.
— If there's no clue what to do – do something, and something will likely happen as a result. Occupational hazard, and no other way.
— Is that your approach?
— Aye. Better to do it than gawp at witchgraphs. Had I got these things for longer...
— …and they'd vanish.
— Odd conclusion! — Ami snorted irritably. — Next you'll say you think I'm nicking everything!
— No. The disappearances started earlier. Just saying it's safer with me.
— Well... hard to argue there, probably. Aaaaa! Speaking of vanishing… My Archive! I should go!
Milo shook his head disapprovingly.
— You should run.
Ami shot out of the office towards the Archive, left unattended.
Not… quite unattended. Another supplicant was already loitering at the window.
Amelia gave them an apologetic wave and ducked into the cubbyhole, still slightly pensive.
Fancy that. What an intriguing moment to join the team.
Peculiar cases. Riveting events. Mysterious objects. She could almost feel like a VST agent. Lucky her.
She put the tablets on her table and rushed to the window.
— Sorry, Calvin. I was held up by Milo. What can I do for you?
— Ami. Take these reports off me.
— What's in there?
— Consolidated forest patrol logs for the small cycle... Several lights' worth from our whole lazy cohort. And a small appendix – witness statements from locals. Nothing special.
— I see. Thank you.
Calvin heaved a sigh and departed.
Right. Time to sort the stack and see what was there, besides the cases she'd issued recently. And... continue scrutinising the fragments and tablets with symbols.
— Ami.
Right. Someone new. Fun postponed. Reason: Davin.
— Give me the recent response to the Zeth caravan query.
Ami quickly scanned the just-received documents.
No. Not here. Odd. They must be with someone… Probably. She headed for the shelves. Yes. There they were.
— Davin. They're with one of you. I don't recall exactly who I issued them to.
— Probably Rayleen?
— Aye, probably... So many people in one light. Davin, who handles intercity documents for you usually?
— Irji. Or Callian. Callian now; Irji's on Forest patrol. They'll swap later, probably. Why?
— Just curious. In our station, I mostly couriered. Wonder who they replaced me with. No one's reached us yet, though I know they won't send anyone without dire need.
— Maybe they'll send Lucy?
— Maybe. Wonder how she's getting on. Heard anything?
— She's fine. According to her relatives. Milo mentioned it recently.
— Jolly good. I must ask him what she's up to. Curious.
— Well, do ask. I'll try to find the reports myself.
Davin ambled off towards Moki's office with his usual unhurried gait.
Interesting, had he always been like that? Or in his youth did he dash about so much he was simply knackered by now?
Time to sort and read what Calvin brought. Or… No. It was time to go home.
Or… "or" again. The Mountain looked incredibly attractive. Beautiful. And beckoning. The scent of herbs and trees and an Omill view were included.
Was it sensible to stroll up the mountain in light of all she'd heard? With the anomalies causing people to vanish or lose memory? Probably not. But her time was short.
She might not have another season here. These green paths would stay unwalked by her. And those strange squiggles, dots, and dashes wouldn't be deciphered. Or they would be, but she wouldn't even know how.
Was some information hidden, not in the symbols themselves? In reflections? Not *that* simple... A special tint on part of the wedges, maybe? Or missing invisible fragments? Or a texture? A relief? Maybe the fabric split in half or needed heating? Or could one of the items in Milo's safe be useful?
Surely all these primitive analyses had been done in the OSD Labs. Well. All that was left was to wait for the OSD chap, Kyle. And start pestering him with her accumulated curiosity. The last hope was that he was nicer than her Chief and wouldn't order her to get lost in the swamps too.
Ami walked into the Forest on a familiar path… and immediately understood why the service people complained about patrols.
The grass was very wet. Maintaining balance without slipping wasn't as easy as she'd like. The Kantine forest floor was covered in pine cones and needles; it was less slippery than this clay soil and stiff grass.
A sane villain would never operate in such a setting. A human villain, that is. Or… How did the Selvas manage to go anywhere in their elegant thin boots?
A mystery. Or witchery.
Though, it was a bit warmer here than in Kantine. They didn't even bother heating the kottis much in cold seasons. More witch tricks, perhaps. Of course, Ami knew nothing of that. The local climate itself could be the result. Who knew?
Regardless, her enthusiasm for conquering the mountain with wet feet waned quickly, as did her plans to become an Omillian heroine. They had to be postponed indefinitely. Until the season changed and the weather improved, at least.
Which, in her circumstances, meant almost "never".