Curator Lisn was a short man with slightly pointed ears, a greyish pallor to his skin, and a baldspot that seemed three-quarters of the way to total victory. He also seemed to be a boiling pot of barely-constrained frustration and suspicion, stomping ahead of them. The second they arrived at the front desk, he’d narrowed his eyes at them, and demanded they accompany him to a meeting room.

Following the would-be demon in a robe of flowing white, a knot of tension tightened in Kaius’s stomach. Gods, he hoped that his tryst with a librarian wouldn’t get them thrown out of this place — they needed what they could find here.

Hopefully Ianmus knew Kanmost well enough that the man could smooth over any offence he had caused — when the man deigned to show up to his office, that is.

Lisn led them through the front of the building, past two sets of stairs that lead to the higher floors, and into a hall. He stopped by the last door on the left, shoving it open. The room beyond was empty of ornamentation — only holding a table and chairs. There wasn’t even a window, just a handful of bright wardlight lamps bolted into the eggshell lime-washed walls.

“In,” the curator demanded — very blatantly not giving a lick that any one of them could have smeared him into a paste with casual ease.

Kaius filed into the room, sharing a look of worry.

“Sit,” Lisn said, gesturing to the chairs.

Kaius sat.

As he did so, the curator locked the door behind him and stalked to the head of the table, scowling all the while. The man stared them down for a moment — as if he was daring them to talk. Even if he’d been inclined to, Kaius wouldn’t even know what to say.

Lisn narrowed his eyes as he saw their confusion.

“You’ve come here every morning for the last week, and stay until we close to the public. Every morning you’ve asked after Archivist Kanmost. You lurk like rats in the walls. Why?”

That was not the direction Kaius had expected the conversation to turn.

“You mean this had nothing to do with the fact I got dinner with Lyren?” he asked.

The curator focused on his, his eyes narrowing further. “My librarians can do what they want in their own time — but I find it most curious that you seduced my youngest librarian mere days after your arrival. What was your plan? A ploy for further access? Digging for information? You are barking up the wrong tree, let me tell you!”

Kaius was speechless as the curator grew apoplectic, his grey toned skin taking on a deep purple flush. The man’s head was visibly shaking as a vein in his neck pulsed.

What in the hells was going on? And he seduced Lyren? What?

Ianmus had more of his wits about him, thank the bloody gods. He leaned forwards, laying a placating hand flat on the table. “Curator, there seems to have been some mistake. We’ve come to the library to research a private matter of archeology. Our interest in Kanmost is solely due to his expertise — I know the man personally, and I thought he would be both able and willing to help us.”

The curator scoffed, harsh derision filling the small room. “Oh yes, I looked into that ‘Ianmus’. I looked into the records, you fool! Kanmost’s request for an assistant position was for a fresh graduate — you think me a fool, imposter? How exactly did you manage to reach Silver in under two years, hmm?”

A wave of relief washed through Kaius as he sunk deeper into his seat.

“Oh thank the gods,” Kaius said silently through his bond. “It’s just a strange case of mistaken identity,”

“I’m not sure,” Porkchop cautioned. “He’s too panicked — there’s something more going on.”

Now that his brother mentioned it, the man was a little wild. Beneath the wrinkles and unusual colouring, the man’s eyes were bruised — almost like sleep deprivation had struck him physically. The shining white robes of his station were creased and wrinkled, too. Everyone else’s uniforms that they’d seen in the library had been immaculately pressed.

“Curator Lisn, both Magister Alistair and Guildmaster Guilewind can vouch for our identities,” Ianmus explained softly. “I am the same man who was going to work here before the world went to the hells. Has something happened?”

Lisn froze, his eyes narrowing at Ianmus as he ignored the question. “The Spire utilises our resources regularly, and I consider Alistair a personal friend — I can contact him right now. If you are lying to me…”

The man trailed off, leaving his threat unspoken.

Across the table, a deep frown carved itself across Kenva’s brow — she didn’t like that. “Then do it. We’ve broken no rules and been nothing but polite. We don’t need an interrogation, nor are you capable of forcing us through one,” she said pointedly.

Glaring at her, Lisn nonetheless reached into his robe and clenched his fist around an inscribed gold orb. Glancing at each of them suspiciously, he eventually closed his eyes and focused.

He stiffened a few moments later, the orb falling from his grip to hit the table with a loud thunk. Lisn went white, staring at them with wide eyes. His blatant shock brought Kaius’s knot of tension right back, dread creeping up his neck — something was wrong.

“Impossible. I was so sure,” the Curator replied, shakily sliding into a chair as he stared into space.

“Curator… Has something happened to Kanmost?” Ianmus asked with naked concern, leaning forward.

“He’s missing. Been missing for nearly two weeks.”

He was what? Why on earth would an archivist up and vanish? It made no sense, they weren’t exactly known for being rich, powerful, or well connected. Aanthrast might have some valuable knowledge in its archives, but it wasn’t that hard to access — not enough that kidnapping one of their workers would seem like a good idea.

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“What happened?”

“I wish I knew,” Lisn said, shaking his head. “I’m certain it's related to his work. He’s been absorbed in a research project for the better part of three and a half years now — it’s what he intended you to work on with him.”

The Curator nodded at Ianmus. Kaius frowned — that was even stranger. Ianmus had said that Kanmost was a history expert. An academic to his bones. Not exactly the line of work that drew envious eyes, and certainly not to the extent of kidnapping.

“He was tight lipped, but the project had serious funding. Noble funding. The library was getting its cut for resources and facilities, so I never pried, and he kept it locked down tighter than a bank. All I know was that it had to be big to gather so much interest, and it was historical research. Something pre-System, considering how much time he spent on the eighth sub-level.”

The what sublevel? How bloody big was this library? Kaius banished his curiosity — a man was missing. One Ianmus considered a close friend.

“How can we help?” he said, focused.

The Curator met his eyes and sighed, looking away a moment later. “I wish I knew. I don’t take one of my Archivist’s going missing lightly, but I have nothing. I don’t even know who was paying for the research, let alone what it was about. It has to be someone well connected, though. Not just because of the resources Kanmost was pulling on, but because of the guard.”

Kaius gave the man a questioning look, tilting his head.

“They’ve locked down his house completely. I’ve been turned away four times. Four! Me! They won’t even tell me if they found his body in there! I don’t know if he’s been silenced, or simply caught in the middle of a power play, but it reeks of a noble’s scheme,” Lisn ranted, before he suddenly snapped his mouth shut, stiffening . A moment he pushed himself to his feet. “I need to stop talking about this. Let me apologise for my behaviour before — I was so certain I had something concrete that I let my wits escape me. That if it was you, it wouldn’t be them. I’ll leave you to your research.”

Kaius stared at the man in disbelief. He was just going to leave?

“You can’t be serious!” Ianmus spluttered. “You can’t tell us something like that and then just leave.”

“I absolutely can,” Lisn said, pausing by the door. “I’ve lived in this city a long time. People go missing, and sometimes the people who get too upset by that do too. You’re strong, young, and full of zeal, I know what that means. I already made the mistake of telling you what I know — I can’t and won’t do more. If you go poking where you don’t belong and it gets traced back to me? It won’t just be my neck.”

Kaius suddenly realised why the man looked so pale, and like he hadn’t slept in days. He was scared — he was worried he’d already done too much. Like he’d be found out, even in a locked room in the middle of his locus of power.

“I’ll let you show yourselves out,” the Curator said, pulling the door shut behind him as he left.

For a moment, Kaius just sat there in silence, digesting the whirlwind that had just landed in his lap. Then, he pushed himself to his feet.

“Right, let’s go buy some communication artefacts. It suddenly feels a lot more important to be able to communicate silently.” he said, giving his teammates a knowing look.

Porkchop could connect them through his telepathy, but that took focus, and didn’t hold up in a fight. Something like this? Where even a highly respected citizen like Lisn was terrified? He wanted to be sure they could talk without being overheard.

After all, they had a conspiracy on their hands.

….

Kaius sunk into his seat, staring out into the vibrant green of the Ruby Crown’s lawn. The beauty of it slid past him, as did the warmth of the afternoon sun on his skin, or the warm burn of the crystal tumbler of liquor that dangled loosely from one of his hands.

The new platinum band on his finger buzzed with a faint charge of mana, its inner face a polished ring of speckled maroon and violet gemstone. Nousstone, the merchant had said. It created linked bonds — an untraceable and uncrackable link. Without potent magics of the third or fourth tier, at least. The range was far shorter than most communication artefacts the man had available. A bare fifty longstrides. Still well worth it for the peace of mind — and it was the best option for battle.

Not only was it a telepathic effect, removing the need for even subvocalisation, it carried a ghost of the context and intention that he and Porkchop had through their bond. The transmission delay was almost non-existent too, and it had a trivial mana cost.

Four of them had cost just under three quarters of their liquid wealth, just over seven thousand platinum. Imports from the east, and genuine second tier artifice, their cost went beyond their system rarity; it was a factor of their difficulty to procure — and their value to those who lived clandestine lives.

His eyes settled on the ring, bringing up its description.

Ring of Unseen Empathy:

Rare - Tier II

This will allow your Voice to know your thoughts as well as his own, my lord. I hope it is to your liking.

Made from a band of platinum-shielded nousstone, this ring creates a highly secure telepathic link between bearers of other bonded artefacts in a short range.

Artisan-wrought Artefact.

Accessory (Ring)

Durability IIII, Self Repair I, Noutropic Bonds III, Lesser Binding Control I

“So, what do we think?” Kenva asked, her voice sounding in the back of Kaius’s mind.

“His house is sealed off by guards? Certainly has a noble stink to it,” he replied.

“So we’re investigating, then?” Ianmus added, leaning out of his day bed to snag a half-full glass of wine that sat on the ground beside him.

“Of course we are! Not only will Kanmost be immensely helpful for our search, you know him, Ianmus. We’re not just going to ignore one of your friends getting kidnapped,” Kaius replied.

“So what’s our plan, then?” Porkchop asked.

It was a damn good question. They had very, very little to go off. They needed to investigate first — and their best bet was the man’s house. The same one sealed off by city guards, potentially at the behest of the very same people who had disappeared the archivist. Even for them, that would be a difficult feat to pull off, especially undetected.

Before Kaius could ask his team if they had any ideas, a soft knock came at the front door to their suite. He shot upright. Jossua, the receptionist, had been clear that their privacy would be respected.

“Who is it?” he asked slowly, summoning his blade to his hand as every muscle in his body readied to burst into motion. His team reacted similarly — superficially relaxed, but ready to act.

“It’s me, sir,” Jossua replied, slightly muffled by their heavy front door. “I know you did not wish to be disturbed, but I carry two important missives that I could not in good faith let lie.”

Kaius let out a shallow sigh of relief, sending his crystal blade back to his ring. Beckoning the man to enter, he eyed the thick white envelope in his hands. Sealed by thick wax, it was covered in gold leaf filigree.

“What’s that?”

“An invitation, sir — to join Marquess Flowers and his team for dinner tomorrow evening, and to visit the guild to meet with a grandmaster this evening.”

Well, wasn’t that just great.

At the very least, Olmos couldn’t have called for them at a better time. They were walking into a viper’s den that might well have already bitten Kanmost, the grandmaster’s advice would be invaluable.