The Drake of Craumont

They had multiple knives.

It’s not something I’d thought of before, not even for a moment. In skilled hands, those blades could slip through the fabric of the World with ease. Anything less than perfection would shatter it, and this whole time I’d thought Dongbaek was genuinely skilled enough to handle it.

I turn that over in my head as I slip down the angled ladder, one hand grasping the splintered edge of the floor. My tail winds itself tightly around me, achingly so, but there’s not much choice— this isn’t a space meant for someone of my size or shape.

Multipleknives. There in those velvet guts of the puzzle box are knives of black glass, edges sharp enough to make my eyes ache, each as beautiful as they are shattered and spent. They are tools meant to break, it seems; replaceable somethings, like everything else my parents made.

Still, in that mire of anger there’s a gleam of satisfaction, shining up through the murk. It’s enough to make my lips twitch entirely against my will. They’d left in a rush, and left things behind. Prey, fleeing the nest and leaving tracks in their wake.

But why leave all this behind? If there truly is a Delveway entrance down here, leaving broken knives seems foolish. It tips their hand, as I’d already proven.

I flicker myself down into the abstract once more, down, down, down until the suggestions of warding interprets into proper shapes. Wires, cogs, haphazard drive shafts, bound to scattered papers and jabbed through table legs. I can parse out normal wards just fine, but these look hastily done and barely finished. What—

Two parts of my soul shift and press together under the pressure, and a railway spike rams its way through my skull. I’m left back in the World, biting back a hiss and massaging my temples. Bah, I guess I’ve pushed myself too far, finally. Taking a breath, I look back up the ladder and focus on Winston. “Saw a few wards down here, and they look messy. Winston?”

Our gazes meet, and in the space between heartbeats, I’m the only one seeing—

Winston blinks, and the fog clears from his eyes. He shakes his head and shares my grimace, taking himself down the steep ladder with care. “Right. That took more out of me than I’d hoped. I can help, but my husband would be furious if I pushed myself further. That, and I’ve several projects that need my focus once we’re done here, if we’re to keep on top of things... at least today’s mess came up after I’d already completed my duties.”

His lips twitch as he descends, threatening to twist into a smile that I suspect is Harriet-specific.

“You have the right of it, cousin.” Lizzie hums, and I can see that creeping dullness in her every move. Sighing, she nods at me and steps out of my line of sight. “I will do you the favor of remaining until our investigation is over with. With Ivy and Paladin Greyfeather as they are now, we should have at least one capable Mage on-premises.”

“I’m a Delver, not a Mage,” I correct absently, restraining a wince at the wound to my pride. It comes out anyway as a twitch of my tail, making a satisfying click click clack against the basement’s stone floor.

“Ah, thank you...” Lena mumbles, making a rather odd squeaking noise with her hand over her mouth. “Oh, that’s another yawn. Verity, can I use mana to push off tiredness? I know it can be used for stamina and strength, that’s bodily augmentation like Ivy does...”

“Pushing off is the right term for it, definitely...” My lips twitch as Verity launches into a quiet explanation of cheating your way around sleep and why you generally don’t do it too much.

I spare the bags under Winston’s eyes a glance. Brown eyes burn behind brass-wired glasses, flickering toward the orange I see in the mirror most mornings— some part of me worries rather than wonders if Winston is even more familiar with the trick than I am.

Bah.

Winston slips past me, one hand flickering with bluish light, and I turn my focus back to the room proper. Back to the shredded lab, overturned and picked over like a corpse by carrion-birds. The runed circle on the floor, curious as it might be, will take the longest to investigate; with Winston still working on the wards, I can’t exactly start on it.

So I begin instead with the bones of the room, those tables etched with stories through their scratches and coated in remnants of Goddess knows what experiments. There’s a few implements I recognize, including a dinged-up depth meter and what might be the remains of an alchemy setup. And around it all is wax, drips and dregs that whiten the wood in chaotic splotches.

More wax, more carvings, and with what we found hidden in the floors of the house, it’s not much of a surprise. “Guess he did his wax carving everywhere,” I muse, loud enough that Ruby should be able to hear me, “Not surprised, really. The flash and the sound structures they used against us wouldn’t have held for more than an hour, maybe a day and a half with the right runework.”

Scrrch, scratch, and Ruby hums. “Would this be the same for their method of opening a Delveway?”

I run the numbers, turning the structures and functions around in my head as I move on to the next part of the room. The Delve archetype is a bit tricky to model, but for shorthand like this, Lightning is close enough in volatility for my needs. “A day, maybe, and you’d need a Heart on hand for it.”

More scribbling. Several heartbeats lurch upward, Lena’s included.

Verity clears her throat. “Which means they’re getting Hearts from somewhere, and regularly. Goddess, it just gets messier, doesn’t it.”

“Oh,” Lena murmurs. I can hear the swish and rasp of her ears against her muffler cap. “And, ah, Hearts only last... two weeks, right?”

“Less, if you start drawing from them.” It’s easier to shove off the implications for now. It’s not like that knot of rage in my gut can burn any brighter, cherry-white as it is and aching to claw its way out of me. My eyes trail to the corners and edges of the room next.

Crates, boxes, wax, more boxes, shattered glass, shredded paper. Some of the boxes catch my eye, though, prodding at a corner of my memories. Given Winston is still picking at the wards and I’d give myself all sorts of agony trying to check on his progress, I resolve to check those once Winston’s done.

My tail twitches, driving itself into a gap between the broad paving-stones of the floor.

“I see.” I can imagine Ruby’s nod quite easily. More scratching and scribbling.

“Meaning our rogue priest has been getting outside help. I doubt they could manage an entire Delving expedition under Ivy’s watchful eye, hm?” Lizzie sighs, the sound trailing off into a faint hiss.

“Ergh,” Verity groans. “I don’t like how that sounds.”

Winston exhales sharply, the crease of his brow deepening. “Delve Hearts have been a monitored import since I noticed the uptick in Delves. I’ve got the Guard watching everything I can, including all the illegal imports I pretend not to know about. And— No, no, why would he connect these... hm, no, that’s an accident, then. The wards seem half-finished at best, and the anchoring is shoddy enough that the alarms would have triggered on their own in a day or two. I think I can disable them entirely, one moment.”

“So they’re smuggling it in another way, how lovely,” Lizzie drawls from out of sight. “I suppose that I’ll have to look into that tomorrow.”

Ruby nods and scratches something into her notes, managing to balance several pages at once while Lena looks on with wide eyes. “It is likely that Dongbaek departed in a rush, with increasing levels of urgency. More information is required.”

“Well, ah, maybe the people following us got back while they were... aaah, packing up?” Lena suggests, interrupted by a squeaky yawn. “Or, um. Hm.”

Verity trills. “That fits! And they were following us all day, so maybe they started the moment we were spotted. Though, that’d mean they’re scared of getting caught, at least in my experience.”

Something scaled stirs inside of me, sinking its fangs into that thought and dragging it into the deep. It leaves just enough for me to turn the idea over, hoping that Dongbaek is running somewhere I can hunt him properly. Yes, they’d left more than they’d planned on, hadn’t they?

And there should be a Delveway entrance around here, somewhere. I can’t sense them, and while I haven’t looked for it specifically, I doubt I would’ve missed an obvious cue. “Sounds about right. They wouldn’t have left more than one knife if they were doing it intentionally.”

“Indeed. Please elaborate, Ivy.” Ruby’s voice pitches up as she speaks, something I’m not used to outside of good pastries. “I have suspicions I will share following my own investigation.”

I snort, take my thoughts apart, drag a few more from the contented reptile in my mind, and put it all back together. If I’d slept for more than four hours, I wouldn’t have had to do any of that, but here we are. “Probably figured it out already, Ruby. If it was just one knife, showing it broken would’ve kept us guessing. Two, with all this mess?” I gesture at the room with a careful sweep of my arm and a swing of my tail. “Means they’ve got more if they’re willing to risk it, and that they really were in a rush to leave, probably. Not sure why they haven’t been back.”

“Huh, the wards would’ve told them, right?” Verity hums an unfamiliar but decidedly cheerful tune. “Speaking of, is there any chance that Dongbaek knows you’ve taken down his wards? You would’ve mentioned it, I’ll bet, but assumptions are how uninformed decisions happen, so I’m asking.”

Winston hums, running a hand through his hair. “Quite unlikely. Unlike wards on something like Ivy’s Manor, the city, or my own estate, these ones lack a proper anchor or any of the mechanisms for a keyward. And, consequently, they lack the ability to notify a keyward unless a set alarm goes off, and as of a moment ago, I have disabled all of them. The rune circle wasn’t linked at all, but I’d advise keeping away from it until someone can determine its purpose.” clearing his throat, Winston plucks his glasses off so he can massage his brow. “And that’ll be all of me today, I think. There’s funding and bards for the upcoming festivals to arrange. Good luck with your search, ladies, and please keep your risks to a minimum.”

He looks at me quite firmly before he ascends the ladder, and I respond with a jaw-cracking yawn that informs him precisely how many teeth I have. And a wish for good rest, of course, we’re all exhausted.

With Winston gone, Ruby, Verity, and Lena descend the steep ladder in short order, spilling out across the room and picking through the mess with care. As the sounds of rustling papers and the soft echo of heartbeats fills the room, I go straight for the boxes that’d prodded at my memory earlier.

It’s a simple box, half a march across on each side and made of what looks to be alchemically treated softwoods. It doesn’t have hinges or a latch, and a tug on the top confirms it just has a fitted lid instead. I’m not a detective, but the fitted lid seems like something you’d expect from a shipping crate.

Further proving my theory, though, is the inside: cloth with four roughly circular indents in it, layered with scrap wool before another layer of cloth with the same dents— Ah, that’s why I recognize them. “They’ve got some empty crystal shipping boxes. Magic crystals for the stored spells, maybe even the Delve Hearts. Fits Lizzie’s theory, at least.”

A scritch, scratch of nib on parchment. “Noted,” Ruby intones. “Are there any shipping stamps?”

I blink, then heft the box up to inspect each side. “Good point. Nothing on this one.”

“I wish we didn’t have to account for trains, ergh,” Verity sighs, passing through the corner of my vision. She’s holding a massive stack of parchment with one hand and gathering up loose sheafs from the floor with the other. “I’m pretty sure you can get from Neulumin to Abermouth in ten-odd days if you take the main line, so that’s most of the Free Kingdoms and the northern front of Caliburn to consider.”

While Verity’s talking, I move on to the next box, which has a sanded off-section that might have been a stamp, and then to a third box— “Found one. Looks like it’s from...” I squint, clearing some sleep-deprived fog from my eyes. “Shipped to Abermouth from Caliburn, actually.”

There’s a pause, long enough for Lizzie to let out a raspy sigh that echoes into the basement. “Gods. That isn’t helpful at all, is it.”

“Ah, isn’t Abermouth in Caliburn?” Lena asks, and her heartbeat places her somewhere near the tables. “Oh, um, this looks like it’s part of a journal...”

Verity chuckles. “Caliburn as in the capital city of the country of Caliburn, Lena. Kingdoms and empires aren’t the most imaginative, are they... and Lizzie’s right. Tons of things come from or through Caliburn, so all it really tells us is the train was heading north rather than south.”

The idea sits restlessly in my thoughts, oozing downward like sludge scooped from a lakebed. Multiple knives, outside help, spells stored in wax... every curtain we pull back just reveals deeper mysteries and more organized prey. It leaves me restless, wading through the murk as it seeps between my scales.

Worse, I can peer deep enough to know we aren’t even close to the bottom. My tail lashes across the floor as I rise, stretching and curling around me. Next, then, would be the rune circle on the floor, the only thing not cleared of debris by Verity. Stable Delveway entrances don’t need a containment ring, and we’d have felt an unstable one. So, what’s the damned thing for?

“He was...” Lena mutters as I pass. “He was worried about someone. Her. Plans getting taken apart, backups, something about a prototype? He definitely didn’t plan to leave these, even if—” Her voice hitches. “Oh, he’s worried about me. I wish he was less awful.”

I snort. “Glad to hear I’ve been haunting him, then.”

Lena stiffens, making a noise that might be a giggle. “R-right. Um, Ruby, Bitgarm was taking notes in the margins here!”

“I will review this information shortly.”

Crouching down by the circle— more evidence that he’d left in a rush, it seems— I stretch out a hand and gather what Wind I can safely muster. Will moulds the two-part structure, my aching soul provides the fuel, and with a flick of my fingers, the parchment scattered across the runic circle gathers and blows to one side. The second part triggers with another flex of willpower, catching the Wind before the breeze can ruin all of the work Verity and Lena have done. With the runes now properly on display, I can do my best to pick them apart.

I mull over Lena’s words, how they fit into a pattern the scaled part of me recognizes. Desperate prey, scrabbling for ground as the walls close in around them, pushing and biting and lashing out. They’ll be caught, soon enough, but for now they run free and only the Gods might know what idiocy they’ll attempt.

A first pass over the runes confirms my speculation; while I’m only familiar with the basics, any attempt at creating a Delveway portal would need actual containment rune sequences, and this has none. It would also use a far less corrosive Archetype than Star, maybe Earth, Moon, or just raw magic. Other than that, though? “Not a damned clue what this circle does. Looks like it feeds Star magic to somewhere, I guess.”

“Star mana?” Verity repeats, because of course she’d use the term mana, “Isn’t that really unstable? Why would you ever... huh.”

Boots thump against stone, and end brushing up against my curled tail. Verity crouches down next to me, stroking her chin and furrowing her brow. “Looks familiar, not sure why. Whatever it was, though, it would’ve cost a hundred plus gold in Star crystals at least, so it definitely wasn’t cheap. They’re putting a lot into... whatever they’re planning. I still think they’re looking for the anchor.”

A rumble builds in my chest and spills out through barely-parted lips. “More mysteries, then. Of course.”

I stand up, surveying the room. We could keep turning this over, keep chipping away at this problem bit by bit while our prey scurries back into the dark. “They’ve got other hideouts, don’t they.”

Ruby nods at the edge of my sight. “Yes. It is possible they departed through the basement, given it is the most hastily cleared out and the existence of Delveways. The guard did not observe any groups transporting mass quantities of items, however.”

“And they were in a rush,” Verity adds, dusting herself off with one hand and pointing at the broken knives with the other. “Which we’ve said, but still.”

They rushed and didn’t come back. I look at the notes Lena’s sifting through, the runes on the floor, and then to the knives. Foolish mistakes, expensive risks, and fear of me. Thoughts, churned endlessly, take a new form and join together seamlessly. I guess Ruby's finally starting to get to me, if I'm doing all this detective work.

“Like they closed the door behind them to keep us out.” I muse aloud, stepping toward the broken knives. “I sealed the broken Delveway under the Manor. Could’ve done the same here.”

Ruby’s eyes flash. “Indeed.”

“But, ah, we can just keep checking Delveway entrances, can’t we?” Lena looks up at me, ears twitching. She stops, though, eyes gleaming turquoise and burning from within.

The handle of the broken knife fits perfectly in my palm. Broken enchantments sing at my touch, echoing with lost purpose but eager to serve.

“We could,” Verity trills. “But why would they shut the door if we could just come in through the window? They know we can’t be stopped. Though...”

Ruby coughs. “It appears Ivy already has a plan.”

All eyes turn to me as I inspect the black glass blade from hilt to shattered tip. The world warps along the blade’s edge, twisted by impossible sharpness, ready to cut and hurt despite its wounds.

“Broken,” I mutter, and I look to the far wall of the lab, the only wall bare of stacked crates or loose debris. “Never stopped me before, has it?”

Clearing the gap in four long strides, I run my claws along the wall until my hand catches on a seam. Magic gathers within me, pouring out from my cracked soul and bending into a shape part remembered, part calculated, part felt. The knife hums in my hand, my scales ache—

—and I carve the World open along a stitched seam, taking care not to wound it more than I must. The World ripples anyway, though it does not scream as it has before.

Crisp edges shimmer with gold, but this is no Delve portal; what lies beyond is not obscured from me. No, the truth resolves itself in murky shapes, first lumpy black and eventually shades of grey and white and blue.

Beyond the portal lies a city, lit by a sky of luminous golden clockwork.