They pulled up at the gates of Valamore, where the serpent of carts and travelers stretched lethargically along.
A knight came out to view them, and his appearance was a steel cut story.
Gold veins were intertwined in black armor, and on each plate were little runes as a heartbeat. His mask was cold and smooth--colder and colder than a man--more idol than a man.
The cart Solved, in which he rode, stopped. in front, wagons rumbling along passed one after another, cleared under the eyes of the knight. The greater number of them were clothmen, who carried burlap sacks, or country people, who hoisted crates, and who could scarcely squeeze their eyes.
Something arrested the eyes of But Solved.
Slipping out of its tarps, half-hiding in the back of one cart, a strand of silky auburn hair came out. Too clean. Too deliberate. A passenger being smuggled.
The knight saw it also--his helm was thrown back, a hand was reaching toward his sword. Thickened the air, a heartbeat.
Then the cart owner, a burly-beaked gentleman with sweat streaming down his forehead, walked quickly. A pouch came out of his rough hand into the gauntlet of the knight, and the small jangle of money lost to the stillness.
[TRUTH SIGHT ACTIVATED]
[Smuggler: Stressed out, know how this game works.
[Guard: It is not a one-time bribe, it is regular.
[Cargo: Human, female, sedated and still alive].
The knight paused. His runes dimmed.
Proceed, he said at last, voice iron-flat.
The wagon rolled on. The smuggled image disappeared into the gate and had left the only remnants convulsing brown hair and foul taste of silence.
Solved sat up with a pucker to his lips.
A city where the breaks are high, but the people sell the cracks said he.
When they went underneath the tremendous gates Valamore unravelled himself before Solved as a living tapestry.
The avenues were laid out in irregular cobbled ways, mellowed down by the centuries of foot and wagon.
The houses were tilted together and the windows were latticed in colored glass which was as shiny as thrown jewels and the timber frames were old.
Royal blue and deep crimson fluttered through banners with royal sigils fluttering on balconies.
Towers were built of all sides, some with slate roofs, some with glittering copper domes which flashed back sunshine in molten metallic flashes.
Everything in the distance was overshadowed by the huge citadel, a fortress made of stone and shadows.
Its spires reached to the heavens, and its buttresses bore faintly glowing runes, which made one think that it had breathing walls of some secret protection.
The odor of iron in the smelters, smouldering pitch, and the spiced bread were in the air.
Kids ran between carts, the street peddlers shouted, the tradesmen haggled, and clatter and noise gave a rhythm as old as the city itself.
Valamore, old, gay, and not at all bashful, was beautiful, as though it had never considered the idea of going to war or time.
Solved exhaled with a little smile drawing his lips. No, no," he said to himself. " No, Tokyo, by no means.
Never visited Valamore. Andrew questioned, and analyzed how the eyes of Solved looked too long at every spire and street.
No, no, no, said Solved; and then on a small shrug he added. I mean... it is just been long.
Andrew scrunched up his nose, but his eyes were narrow. He did not insist, but the silence that succeeded was that of an unspoken question.
The chariot moved farther into the city and Valamore was blinded with its banners, its multitudes, its gold glow--until Solved stood paralysed.
What the--" He fell into the words he was uttering before he could get them.
One of the figures ran over the road: no higher than a child, and definitely matured. The brown hair flashed in the sunlight, but whatever caught him was the ears, which were sharp and furred and twitching on her head. She had a tail which wagged behind her like a shadow.
"A halfling," Solved whispered. His pulse quickened. "With... wolf ears? That--how ever can that be?--do you think?
Andrew looked at him, as in the flash of a drawn blade. His knuckles turned white on the reins, and Solved could detect a slight movement when the hand of Andrew reached his coat--to feel the armoury.
Strange reaction, said Andrew evenly, but a muscle spasmed in his jaw.
The interface glowed in front of Solved before he could react.
[ENIGMA SYSTEM ACTIVATION]
Hmph," Solved said, his eyes shining with dark amusement. "Let's see what you got."
Somebody came to them now--a man with flour-covered hands, shaking because he caught hold of the edge of their cart.
"Andrew! Please, you must help me!"
"Henrik?" Concern took the place of suspicion in Andrew. What is your business in the main district? Shouldn't you be at the mill?"
"My daughter Elera--" the voice of Henrik broke over her name, and his bloodshot eyes in the act of moving back and forth between them. "She vanished 3 nights ago. The constable tells her that she ran away with some merchant, but that she would never...
[CASE DIAGO: The Lost Daughter of the Miller].
[Client: Henrik Millwright]
[Target: Elera Millwright, Age 16]
[Status: Missing 72 hours]
[Reward: 150 EXP, 50 Gold Pieces, Local Reputation].
[Accept Mission? Y/N]
The lips of Solved formed a smile which did not reach to the an eyes. A savage silence fell upon him, and the fragments fell together. The system would have known where and when this would occur. All the actions were planned.
He had ceased to be a detectives.
He was a weapon being aimed.
Solved leant back like chess player who has just discovered the winning move, and said, Sir, I will help you. However, before that, I would like to ask you three questions.
His eyes flew to this self-assured alien-dressed stranger, and he assimilated the unusual cut of his coat, the strange material. There was war between hope and desperation on his flour-dusted features.
At least answer them truthfully, Solved added, and there is a certain air of authority in his voice, which made me think that he usually excavated the truth, and in this case I shall have a hand in discovering your daughter.
Andrew observed Solved with even greater keenness, his old distrust becoming fascinated. Something was different with the posture of the stranger now--that predatory concentration, which was not there a moment before.
Yes, yes, yes, said Henrik, and his hands shook as they took hold of the edge of the cart. Yes, please--if you can, anything. I'll answer anything."
It strangled by the end of the word and he choked out his final word, burning with desperation.
Andrew's eyes widened.
Solved drew near and his voice intruded upon the silence.
"Let's start with the first." He raised a finger. When was the last time you saw your daughter alive?
Henrik's throat bobbed. Before I received the message... three days ago.
Solved's gaze sharpened. "If it was her, then they waited. Kept her in until just the right time--just the right buyer... or both.
He lifted a second finger. "The debt. What do you owe, and to whom?"
Henrik stalled with his dirty flour-streaked hands turning in his lap. Something, I said it under my breath.
You will have to tell me to help you, Solved insisted.
"We needed the money for--"
I do not require the backstory, Solved said huffily. "The debt. The name."
Henrik swallowed hard. "Five thousand crowns. In silver."
"To whom?"
There was a silence, followed by a name, such as poison: "Lord Blackwood."
During one beat of the heart Solved heard it--the slight jerk of the fist of Andrew, the manner in which his jaw was set. So Henrik knew.
That's why he'd come to Andrew. He must have guessed that Marcus Blackthorne was at war with that man who had ruined his family... as the system had planned it.
Solved lifted up his third finger. "And lastly--why Andrew? Why not the authorities?"
Henrik's eyes glistened. "Because he's capable. And I know he can help."
Truth--but not all of it. What was not said might be pressing upon Solved.
The air went still. Henrik broke, and shaking the shoulders, he muttered over debts and failures, but Solved was already motionless, his eyes shut off--pieces falling together like clockwork.
Then, softly, he spoke. your daughter possesses auburn hair.
Henrik froze. "Yes--how do you--?"
"Because I saw her. An hour ago." Solved had the voice of a knife-edge, and his stare was merciless. "In the back of a cart. Probably unconscious. Snuck through the gates by a fat bearded man who has obviously been bribing the guards over the years.
The interface seared on his eyes:
[ TRUTH SIGHT ACTIVated Henrik--Shock, Andrew--Surprised.
Pattern recognition: Master level.
[Evidence correlation: 94% accuracy].
[EXP bonus in case of excellent deduction: +25].
Solved scowled forward, cold and predatory in his smile.
"The man you owe? He did not simply take her as a security. He's selling her. And when you are going through these streets, desperate and loud, he is telling the lie that she ran away. When the city starts hunting her down, she is long gone.
Andrew chilled through his knuckles. Henrik grumbled like a hurt animal.
Once more, then, he asked Solved, the question is, are we rescuing a girl... or a body.
His eyes cut to Andrew. "Thoughts?"
Andrew sounded deep, but regular. "Campoff. That's where he'll go. Closest hub for slavers."
"How long?"
Provided that he is fast--he will not come before daybreak.
Solved stared at the clock of the system:
[ 05:00:00 UNTIL DEADLINE ]
Solved grinned, with a bitter smile on his face. "Then we're already late. But not too late." He turned to Andrew. "You in?"
Andrew's jaw set. "Of course."
Then Henrik broke--flowing tears upon his flour-streaked face--but not this time the sorrow but weak, shattering joy.
"Thank you," he whispered. "Both of you. I don't know how to--"
Keep it till we get her home, Solved interrupted him, and got out of the cart. "But you're staying here."
"What? No, I need to--"
Go on, keep alive, you must, Andrew. It is no longer a rescue operation, now it is an incursion among armed pirates. You would kill yourself and we with you most likely.
Henrik crumbled his face, and Solved made no response, just cold. "Go back to your mill. Wait. We will take her home or we will take you answers. That's the deal."
Henrik reluctantly nodded knowing he did not have an option.
The eyes of Solved shot through the congested streets of Valamore and made calculations. "We're not heroes yet. We are but two men having a dangerous road ahead.
The actual race against time was soon to start as they were ready to leave the city behind to be replaced by a new one.