Halkan sat in the private room of a teahouse in the Scarlet Moon Sect, sitting across a sharply dressed man in his early second century. His name was Rocksal Gramly, and he wore a kanigo, a traditional black and silver robe worn by graduated elders who didn't sign another pact but stayed employed by the sect. Despite his age and salt-and-pepper hair, his eyes were sharp and discerning. Despite not being able to see Halkan’s cultivation, he could tell he was powerful and gave him deference.

  Now, they sat across from one another, separated by a hanging lamp with a flower cover and an ornate teapot adorned with birds.

  “Tell me about the day you met Kain Raskco,” Halkan said as he poured the first cup. “When did you meet?”

  “I met Kain near the Karlan mines, which were up the mountain. There had been an incident everyone had witnessed, but none could seem to remember. And as I’m sure you’re aware, such amnesia is prevalent around sects. Especially if it involves disciples.

  We usually ignore such cases unless there's a death, as it prevents further retribution. But that week was different. We had set a curfew following a string of kidnappings, and even lead investigators were being sent to deal with petty offenses as a deterrent.

  That’s why I was there that day.

  I expected to investigate which disciple attacked a spiritless, so you can imagine my surprise when everything pointed to the opposite.

  For starters, a cultivator didn't start the fire. I could tell because of the elemental record… the residual Qi left behind after attacks, or, in this case, the lack thereof. Whoever lit the fire did so with mortal tools, and they left little evidence to investigate. The building had burned to its skeleton, leaving nothing but the charred support beams and the heads from pickaxes and shovels buried in the ash. But even that yielded insight.

  There was a certain room that was missing a shovel head, and in that same room, one of the wall’s studs had been broken before the fire. Mind you, studs are rather powerful. Even if a Spiritless were to hit one with a sledgehammer, it would only dent it, but this one had cracked in half. The only rational explanation was that a cultivator had hit it. So I gathered up the miners and asked them about it bluntly.

  “Did a cultivator get attacked here?”

  Watching their faces drain of color was a surreal sight to behold. But what was more surreal was that, even under the threat of implied incarceration and torture, whoever coerced them did so with such ferocity that they wouldn't give details. They just kept saying, “No cultivator died here. I swear.” Or, as a more intelligent man had put it, “If there were a cultivator, I never saw their face.”

  These were odd answers to get to a question about whether a cultivator had been attacked. But they were insightful. They convinced me of two things: First, the miners were afraid of lie detection elixirs and techniques. Second, a cultivator was assaulted on the premises — but they left alive.

  I pressed on with my questioning by pointing to a room.

  “Who slept in this room?”

  A wave of panic spread through the crowd when I pointed to the broken stud, but Kain quelled it by raising his hand.

  , I thought.

  Kain was a key witness in my kidnapping investigation. He was an Outer Court disciple, but a few months prior, he had suffered a Tribune after saving his friend from Renly Caro in what I concluded was a kidnapping attempt. I arrested Renly, but someone intervened and Renly was set free and Kain was tried and crippled before the council. It was a terrible incident, and I was dreading seeing him. Then I showed up and he mangled. His entire face was wrapped in crusted bandages, and the slack in his left cheek proved that his face had been partially caved in by jagged objects.

  I immediately thought about Renly, and I felt guilty asking Kain who did it when the last time he spoke to us we ended up crippling him. And it was worse, considering that his face was mangled.

  I questioned him in Robak’s home. I didn't know how I would do that at first. I said, “Can I see your wounds?” and regretted asking.

  His hands were bandaged and shaky as he pulled off the bandages. Once they were off, I saw he had a broken jaw and punctured cheek. Worse, he had bloody bandages around his neck that he was hesitant to remove.

  “There’s no need,” I said.

  He released his trembling hands.

  “We'll send a healer. For now…”

  I paused because I could've sworn I saw apprehension in his eyes after I said the word “healer.”

  “Is everything alright?”

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  I studied his nod and then looked at the ground to avoid his gaze. “I’m sure you don't trust anyone after what happened, but I need to know. Did Renly do this to you? You can nod or shake your head.”

  He paused, thinking, pushing past that pain. It sounds strange, but even then I knew something was wrong with him.

  Kain was a mellow boy. Quiet. He protested all but ten minutes before he accepted that Renly’s connections had framed him. It was a common story, and he accepted it with a sardonic laugh and hollow eyes.

  But not this Kain.

  This man had a broken jaw, and he wasn't groaning or touching his face, and his sharp eyes showed concentration as he thought. Once he finished, he shook his head. It all took a second.

  “No?” I asked.

  He shook his head.

  I sighed. “Smart boy.”

  I wanted to know, but I think we both knew nothing would come about it. I could arrest Renly, but his contacts would seek retribution. And besides, I was monitoring Renly during the nights hoping he would lead me to the kidnappers, so I couldn't even arrest him. It was a cruel world, and he didn't deserve to be berated. So I stood and examined his wounds.

  “I'll try to get a healer if I can.”

  I searched for a reaction but found none. It was strange—but I didn't let myself question him. On the contrary, I forced myself to look at his broken cultivation to remind myself of what he lost.

  And that's when I saw it.

  I thought.

  Everyone has a rawkan, but it's dormant until activation, and this one was burning hot. It was strange. It looked inflamed, but it had clear regulation. Perfect even. And this was not something that an Outer Court disciple could learn haphazardly. The technique was a gift for finishing the Inner Court entrance exam. That wasn't the only way to learn it, but someone couldn't activate one in three months, let alone to such perfection.

  ? I wondered.

  I left without the answer, but everything I had just seen gnawed at me. So I left the room and immediately asked Robak, “Did you think something is… off with him?”

  Robak clenched his fists nervously. “Not that I can tell. Been livin’ here, but it's not like he can talk.”

  I nodded. “What was he like when you found him?”

  He chuckled darkly. “Drenched in blood. Head to toe. Had a nasty knife mark on his neck. I’m surprised he’s even alive.”

  “And did anyone see him in the building at the time of the attack?”

  He locked up. Solid “Yes.”

  “You don't have to worry. No one's unaccounted for at the sect, so I've shut the case and ruled the arson as settled. But that doesn't fix the problem with retribution.”

  He winced.

  “Luckily, if it is who I suspect, we might be able to get surveillance and the curfew extended. But to do that, I need to know if Kain was in that room at the time of the attack.”

  He swallowed.

  “I'm not sure. Most the people didn't see anything, the ones who did disagree. But…”

  “They heard him?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “It’s hard to say. People hear all sorts of things in the mines, Senior. They say the jade makes people crazy, and after yesterday, I'm apt to believe it.”

  “What did they hear?”

  “Dunno. Poundin’, screamin’, coughin’. I got his neighbor to talk, and he would’ve sworn someone slashed Kain’s neck. He hit the floor, wheezin’ and thumpin’ and gurglin’ blood. And when they looked into the room after the event… it was full of blood. Everywhere. The bed, the walls. You would've thought someone died. But no one did. Someone walked out of that room, and it sure as hell wasn't Kain. That's what they said. They called ‘em cruel. Confident. In control. His body was wrapped in a huge cloak so no one could see his face or body type, but he was mean and authoritative, deep voice, the complete opposite of Kain. Kain wouldn't even start a fight with someone. But this man? They said the beating was so bad the cultivator was sobbing and screamin’. True horror. That couldn't’ve been Kain. But here’s the thing…”

  He looked toward Kain’s room.

  “Kain… he comes back… and his throat’s been cut. That’s a fact. You can still see that wound behind those bandages. And the other man wasn't cut at all. He was shirtless ‘cause the other guy wrapped his face, and we could see that there wasn't a wound on ‘em. No neck or nothin’. That blood was from the other guy in that room, and the only person who could’ve been was Kain.”

  I looked to the room and back. “What did the guy look like? The injured one.”

  “Do I have to answer that?”

  I shook my head. “Of course not.” I stood. I'd ask for Renly’s report early. “I'll get Kain a healer and some surveillance,” I continued. “If you want that protection, you best not harm the kid.”

  Robak smiled wryly. It seemed like he didn't want to be anywhere near the guy, but now he had no choice.

  I took one more look at Kain’s door, left, and shut down the case. But I filed paperwork to make Kain Reskco the key witness in the case and had surveillance and protection assigned to him.”

  Halkan grinned as he studied Rocksal. “And that was it?”

  Rocksal smiled. “Of course not. I scoured that mountain day and night on my days off, searching for Renly’s cloak, and sure enough, I found it. And that’s when the true mysteries began. See, I found it in a patch of Poison Harmony, which was absurdly risky. Just being pricked by Poison Harmony could kill a person, but they risked it. The question is why? Why not throw it down the cliff like they did the dagger and bent shovel head? I concluded that they wanted to keep the cloak, so they hid it in a place that Mortals and cultivators wouldn’t look.

  And it was damn clever, too. I passed it three times before finding it because I was searching for the cloak’s Qi signature, and Poison Harmony glows like a fire under Divine Eyes. I doubted that was unintentional because there were caves and cracks and pockets all through the mountains. Someone knew about Divine Eyes, and who had a freshly established rawkan?

  Kain Raskco.

  I felt crazy thinking that way. It was unreasonable to think that the same meek kid who cried before and after his tribune beat in a cultivator’s head in with a shovel, created a rawkan, set fire to his mining quarters, and then broke his own jaw to ensure he couldn't talk—but that was the only explanation. My surveillance team confirmed Renly was battered the night of the incident, and he was missing that cloak. And the only miner tall enough to wear Renly’s cloak in the mining team without it touching the floor was Kain Reskco.

  Kain Reskco. Kain Reskco. Everything led back to Kain Reskco. I couldn't confirm it, but I would.

  Because from the second I left the miner’s quarters till the day he left, I was watching Kain.”

  Halkan drank his tea with an amused smile. “And the cloak?”

  Rocksal shrugged. “I left it there. But not without a present.”

  “It seems you were enjoying this,” Halkan said.

  “Of course,” Rocksal said. “The image of Kain caving Renly’s head in with a shovel made my week. A chance to play cat and mouse with a ghost? That was a treat of a lifetime.”