As dusk approached, Glenn finally sold the last of the black pig, earning a total of two thousand four hundred copper coins. His pouch swelled visibly with the weight of his profit.

  At last, I am free—if only for the moment—from the grip of poverty. Tonight, I shall treat myself properly: perhaps a fine hotpot. Ah, yes… Layla and Bonnie. I wonder how they fared after yesterday’s fright? Best to buy some vegetables and pay them a visit. After all, what befell them is not entirely unconnected to me.

  Gathering the mess that lay scattered about, Glenn resolved to load the refuse onto his cart; otherwise the street sweepers would surely cause him trouble.

  Yet when the last scrap was cleared, he did not leave at once—for a group of plainclothed men were already approaching.

  Glenn had noticed them long before. They lingered at the edges of the crowd while he sold his pork, waiting until now to make their move.

  Dude’s policemen? He guessed their identity at once. In his previous life, he had dealt with such men too often not to know the bearing and demeanor of their profession.

  “Mr. Glenn, is it? We are officers of Dude. Might we have a word?” Their captain, a mustached man, wasted no time on pleasantries.

  “Officers?” Glenn feigned bewilderment, even a touch of panic. “Have I… committed some crime?”

  Of course he already knew why they sought him. Layla and Bonnie must have reported the incident, and naturally the police would question those involved.

  “Take it easy, sir,” said a younger officer with a reassuring smile. “Just a few questions, nothing more. It concerns a case under investigation.”

  Glenn exhaled heavily and replied, “Very well. Ask what you must—I shall withhold nothing.”

  “Your cooperation is appreciated.” The captain produced a small notebook and a steel pen, his tone clipped and official. “Your full name is Glenn Nibankru, is it not?”

  “That is the name I use now. Formerly, I was Dylan Nibankru.”

  Unsure how far official records reached in this world, Glenn chose honesty. Concealing his former name might only cause trouble later if discrepancies arose.

  The captain scribbled quickly, then looked up. “May I ask the reason for your change of name?”

  “There were… matters I wished to put behind me, officer. A clean break with the past.”

  The captain gave a thoughtful nod before continuing: “Yesterday evening, Miss Layla and Miss Bonnie were at your home, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “And do you know Layla’s father, Bob?”

  “I do not.”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  …

  The questioning lasted scarcely a quarter of an hour, covering little more than the events of the previous day.

  At the end, however, the captain’s voice and gaze grew strangely intent. “Do you truly reside in Bayek?”

  “I do,” Glenn answered, puzzled by the man’s tone. “Is that a problem, officer?”

  “Nothing, so long as you are well.” The captain smiled faintly, glanced about, then leaned close and whispered: “When I first took command of the precinct, I was told—unless absolutely necessary, never set foot in that place.”

  Glenn blinked, his curiosity sharpened.

  “You must have been deceived into buying property there. Believe me, child, if you can, leave it behind. No harm will come to you by doing so.”

  With that, the captain and his men withdrew.

  So… the kingdom does know of Bayek. But why leave it unchecked? There are creatures within whose very presence reeks of malice. Glenn stood pondering, then shook his head, pulled his cart to a quiet corner, and went to buy vegetables.

  “Captain, still no clues. What now? That youth seems unconnected to the case.”

  Not long after leaving the square, one of the officers at the mustached man’s side posed the question.

  “Perhaps so,” the captain replied ambiguously. “At the very least, he is not among them.”

  “If those fiends strike again, the whole town will be in uproar,” another said anxiously.

  “They will not—for now,” the captain answered as they walked.

  “Why not?” his men demanded.

  “Think. Their victims are always chosen outside the town. That means they dare not act within its walls. Something here restrains them. It is not us—they would never fear a handful of policemen enough to hold back. But recently, a great man arrived in Dude. Sir Berlin, the knight. If they struck now, he might intervene, and then they would be finished. Families with children outside town are few—and already ruined. To go farther afield is beyond our jurisdiction. Their only choice is to prey within town, yet until Berlin departs, they must remain hidden.”

  The men exchanged uneasy glances, only half-comprehending.

  “But sir, Lord Berlin arrived two days ago. The abductions began five days past,” one ventured.

  “Word of his coming spread a week before he set foot here,” the captain replied evenly. “Had they acted after that rumor began, news would have reached him upon his arrival. With a knight’s heart, Berlin would have tracked them down without pause. They would not risk it.”

  “Then why not ask him to aid us? Surely he could unmask them swiftly.”

  The captain sighed. “I tried. The mayor refused me. He said Berlin’s stay will be brief—his duties urgent elsewhere. They will not waste his time on this.”

  Frustration clouded the men’s faces, but the captain’s sudden bark cut through their gloom: “Listen well, you wretches! Must we lean on others to do our work? What do you wear on your backs? That uniform binds you to your duty! To bring criminals to justice—that is our charge!”

  Startled, they straightened at once, voices rising in unison: “Yes, Captain!”

  “The patrols continue without fail. Sooner or later, we shall uncover them.”

  Mace Academy.

  Glenn stood before the iron gate in silence. Its heavy lock declared plainly that strangers were not welcome.

  He stepped closer, crisp autumn leaves crunching beneath his boots upon the stone path.

  The gate was fashioned of vertical black bars twined with symmetrical spirals, an echo of old English design.

  Peering beyond, Glenn beheld tawny spired buildings rising serenely within, while the mingled voices of lectures drifted faintly through the air.

  So, classes are in session… He straightened, then suddenly felt eyes upon him.

  Glancing up, he realized the gaze seemed to emanate from the raven statues carved atop the gate’s flanking pillars.

  Surely this is but an ordinary school? No constructs of magic here—or so it ought to be. Yet perhaps such things exist in every academy, merely hidden from common students, as they had been from the body’s former owner.

  Lowering his head, Glenn ceased his scrutiny. He had followed the lingering scent to check on Layla and Bonnie, fearing they might be in peril. Yet from the sounds within, they seemed unharmed, and he could not risk storming in and drawing suspicion.

  Turning to leave, his ears caught a faint, unfamiliar sound.

  Something amiss? He cast a glance toward its source—close, not far at all. Hugging the wall, Glenn moved quietly in that direction.