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  “No, Thane Frey and his right-hand man killed Ulger Denman. Don’t you see, Aldora? Your care for the royal official is blinding you. You’re too focused on getting this criminal and I bet it’s for his sake.”

  “So what if I am?” snapped Aldora. “I’m supposed to be putting others first now.”

  “Not at the risk of harming the village further. If this criminal of Royal Official Bayre’s digs in here, we’ll suffer a lot more with you running after him without a plan. You and I are supposed to identify, send word and keep the village safe. You’re not supposed to go running off. We’re supposed to send word to the palace we’ve seen him. That’s it.” Haethowine stopped walking just shy of Aldora’s home and pointed at it. “You’re done enough for today. Go home.”

  Aldora observed the set frown across her village leader’s brow. There’s no arguing with him. She gave a small nod before strolling the last few steps towards her home. I should speak with Dad. She looked back, checking Haethowine had turned his back. He was already walking back the way they had come, so Aldora unlocked her door and stepped into the living room. Looking towards the blue armchair her father preferred to sit in, she spotted a cup of cold tea resting against the coffee table at its feet and the day’s copy of The Giften Daily newspaper abandoned beside it, two articles cut out beside it. Curious, Aldora picked them up and noted they were of a female royal official’s latest accomplishments in Stertye Town. Returning them, Aldora looked towards the kitchen doorway. “Dad?” There was no response so Aldora peeked through just in case Isadore was distracted, but the kitchen was empty. “Dad?” She stepped free of the kitchen and ran up the stairs, knocking on her father’s bedroom door before peeking in. The bed was made. So he’s up. The bathroom door between their bedrooms was open, revealing that her father wasn’t at home. That leaves work.

  Heading back out, Aldora walked briskly towards the Leoma Blacksmith and Farrier Stables. One of the more industrious members of the village, Isadore had given his free time to the rebuilding of the village, molding an endless supply of nails, hammers and his usual assortment of weapons, shields, sheaths and horse paraphernalia. He’d even lent out his surviving horses for general work around the village, leading to a dip in new colts earlier in the year. Reaching the entrance of the Leoma Blacksmith, Aldora smiled as she spotted her father checking on the stock stored in small drawers along the back wall, including nails organised by length, width and type. “Hey, Dad.”

  Isadore looked over and smiled as he saw his daughter. “Aldora. Everything OK? Did you find that criminal you were reading about last night?”

  “I did. He got away.” Aldora gave a nod as she stepped into the workshop, the heat of the forge prickling the left side of her skin as she walked past it. “Where’s Tomasso?”

  Isadore’s apprentice and the hopeful villager to take over the forge when Isadore chose to retire, Tomasso was a regular contributor around the forge and it was rare when he wasn’t there, even if he was just sweeping some days. “He took today off,” said Isadore. “His mother’s ill so he stepped in to help her instead. I don’t mind. There wasn’t much on the docket today. Just some horseshoes and you know I made a mould to create a few sets at a time.”

  Aldora nodded. Although making moulds was nothing new, Isadore’s were some of the best in Giften and as a result, he was constantly tweaking them into improved versions. His latest for horseshoes had put him in surprising demand, especially as he would fit them for free on Fridays, even with the most unwilling of horses. “Do you need any help?” asked Aldora. “Haethowine sent me home.”

  Isadore looked towards the wall clock before frowning at his daughter. “It’s too early to give up yet.” He gestured for Aldora to follow him into the backroom which worked as additional storage and a makeshift kitchen. He filled a kettle and placed it on the gas stove. “Why did he send you home?”

  “I’m not acting how he wants.” Aldora folded her arms and rested her weight against the counter beside the stove. “He wants me to do what he’s always done — not put himself in danger. What good is a—”

  Isadore rose a hand. “No, no. Haethowine has had to work in a time of relative peace, where word to the king was good enough to keep us safe.”

  “But—”

  “I know. Things are changing. The Giften Daily has said as much.” Isadore gave a brief smile before he reached for two of the four cups on the side. He slipped two green tea bags into the cups then faced his daughter. “Crime is on the rise and the royal officials didn’t get the full complement of graduates this January.”

  Aldora huffed, scowling. “Yeah. And I’m the first Dagger Bearer since what’s-her-face had to have it wrenched out of her dead hands a hundred and one years ago.”

  “So many years have passed since the ‘Last Dagger Bearer’, Nahara Amaya.” Isadore rested his hands on Aldora’s shoulders and smiled warmly at her. “You’re the Dagger Bearer now. Nahara’s legacy was defiance and blood. So just ask yourself, what would a good Dagger Bearer do in the past, when trouble was rife in the kingdom? Nahara’s actions tell you what not to do. So what will Aldora do?”

  Aldora shrugged. “Run towards the danger, stop the bad guys.”

  Her father hesitated. “So do that.” Isadore patted Aldora’s arm before rescuing the whistling kettle and pouring the water into their cups. “Just… try and do it without killing yourself, Aldora.” He pressed one of the cups into her hands. “Drink your tea and decide what you’re going to do next.”

  Aldora shrugged. “I have no idea. I don’t know what I’m doing. You know I’ve only had ten training sessions with Master Redler at the Royal Official University, and they were on fighting, mastering my gift and mastering the Dagger of Protection.”

  Isadore eyed the blade at Aldora’s hip. “And extra lessons in the garden with Raneth. He’s been teaching you a lot when he’s been able to come by, so what’s he taught you about canvassing?”

  Aldora thought back. I wasn’t paying enough attention; I was bored. Aldora set her cup down and ran a hand over her collarbones. “Something about grids on a map.”

  Isadore looked back at her. “And?” he asked.

  And… And… Aldora shook her head. “I can’t remember.”

  “Alright, let’s look at it another way. Patterns. He taught you about those, didn’t he?”

  “He said to observe patterns because that’s the most likely way you’ll catch a criminal. By knowing their patterns of behaviour and using them against them. That’s how he found the murderer, Blood Cup.”

  Isadore visibly shivered. “Creepy-ass murderer… So, what are the criminal’s patterns?”

  “I don’t know. There’s no ‘pattern’ section on the notes Cray gave us,” stated Aldora.

  “But? You said some of it was directly from Raneth’s field notes.”

  “Raneth’s tracked him though thefts of weapons and food, sightings and pickpocketing in crowds.”

  Isadore smiled. “Sounds like patterns to me. Start asking questions, and start tracking this criminal of his the same way.” He nodded at the Dagger of Protection. “And keep ready. A criminal doesn’t announce his arrival.”

  “Yeah, Jenny just found that out,” said Aldora.

  “She alright?” asked Isadore.

  “Yeah. He covered her in some sort of slime stuff. His blood-gift.” Aldora sipped her tea. It was still too hot to swig down. She set the cup on the side. “Thanks for the pep talk, Dad. I’ll head out and start acting more like Raneth and less like Haethowine.”

  Isadore smiled. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

  Aldora followed her father’s advice for most of the day, asking villagers if they had seen Jules Rivermud, and describing him to each. A few weren’t sure and most said no, but two thought they might have seen him in Village Circle, the circular clearing just shy of the centre of the village, where Seth’s Bakers, the Buzzard Cafe, the General Store, the Buzzard Bookshop and a few of the other more popular shops
were nestled. Entering the clearing, Aldora spotted Haethowine talking to the owner of the bookshop. Bother. Aldora quick-turned and headed towards one of the other entrances to the area.

  “Aldora.”

  The Dagger Bearer froze before she reluctantly turned to face the village leader. He was striding towards her, his calloused hand resting on the pommel of his sword.

  If you want to develop a weapon tick, turn it into holding the grip. Resting your hand on the pommel just wastes a second, and you may need that second. Remembering Raneth’s words, Aldora was tempted to warn Haethowine just as Raneth had when he had spotted her resting her hand against the two points of the Dagger of Protection’s pommel, but held her tongue. What now, Haethowine? I can’t stay indoors all day just because you’re afraid. I suppose I should probably apologise just because I’m the younger one and it’s expected of me. Biting down her preference not to, Aldora apologised for her actions earlier in the day. Even if it’s stupid to stop me. I need to be a Dagger Bearer the village can trust to protect them. Aldora tugged at her brown jacket as a thought occurred to her. But if they all worry, do none of them trust me to do the job?

  “That’s alright, Aldora. We all need a reminder sometimes. Just don’t run off without me, especially towards a suspected murderer.” Haethowine smiled and nodded towards the cafe. “Would you like a hot drink?”

  “No, but thank you.”

  “Very well.” Haethowine glanced at the shops around them. “So it turns out Seth wasn’t the only one who was visited last night. It seems the cafe is missing a large chunk of their breakfast cookies, the general store is missing tinned food, a bag and a tin opener.”

  That sounds like something Rivermud would do. “That could be our criminal,” stated Aldora. “The bread from the stale bin would be a good immediate meal, the breakfast cookies last for ages and then he could take the tinned food with him if he leaves the village. The bag lets him carry it all.”

  Haethowine nodded. “I suspected the same. Hopefully that means that sighting you and Jenny had was the last and he’s moved on.”

  “Yeah.” Aldora folded her arms as she thought of Raneth chasing the criminal between settlements. She looked up towards the sky. Just as well it’s still warm but that won’t last for long. A small part of her hoped the criminal would stick around for Raneth’s benefit. If he can sleep on my sofa instead of on the grass between settlements, at least then I’ll see more of him and he won’t have to cancel coming over again because of the flu or a criminal leading him away. “Where were you headed, Winnie?” she asked Haethowine, thinking of the latest apology letters Raneth had sent for dinners he’d been unable to attend.

  Haethowine gestured towards one of the alleyways that led to one of the residential streets. They walked towards it. Maybe if Raneth comes back here for Rivermud, we can team up. At least he thinks I can do this. Be a great Dagger Bearer. She snuck a glance at Haethowine. Raneth doesn’t act like he thinks I’ll get myself killed like Winnie does. The village should have told the king they didn’t want me to be the Dagger Bearer if they didn’t think I could do it. They continued to walk in silence, prowling through the streets and talking sporadically to villagers, asking if they had seen the criminal. Most said no before asking what he was accused of. Aldora noticed that Haethowine never once said suspected murderer. When they were alone, she tapped his elbow. “Why aren’t you telling people he’s a murderer?”

  “Suspected murderer. Sometimes it’s necessary to protect people from fear.”

  “But wouldn’t being honest work better?” asked Aldora. “They’d be twice as likely to remember someone they don’t know if they know there’s a murderer about, suspected or not, surely?”

  The village leader shrugged. “Perhaps. But it could also affect the village. Nobody wants to have an evening curfew, especially the general store and Buzzard Cafe.”

  The money? That’s what he’s really worried about? Aldora shook her head, but Haethowine smiled, seemingly thinking she was agreeing with him. They turned onto another street, where a square space had been cleared in the hopes of having a weekly traders market, something the village hadn’t had before the attack. A few traders came from the nearby settlements but there was still space for more to join. Evening was coming, and the few traders that had been there during the day were gone, their offered stalls secured against the wind that was beginning to pick up, smashing through the streets of the village and making those without jackets wish they hadn’t been deceived by the earlier heat.

  “Ah, there’s Julia,” said Haethowine. Aldora looked up from zipping her jacket and towards where Haethowine was focused. Julia was one of the villagers a little older than Aldora but had yet to inherit the family business. Trained as a carpenter, she and her father were barely seen in the day. “I’m going to go and say hello. That must be Malik.”

  The newest couple. Aldora smiled at the older woman before she looked around the marketplace and spotted a small group of girls she had gone to school with. She strolled over, noticing as Harriet rolled her eyes on spotting her advance. “Hi, Harriet. Ginny, Mikko, Tarian.”

  “Dagger Bearer.” Harriet folded her arms and lifted her chin slightly.

  Used to the girl’s reaction every time she saw her, Aldora took a slow inhale. “I’m helping Haethowine out today,” she said.

  “When aren’t you helping him?” snapped Harriet, her upper lip curling on the right side.

  “Anyway,” stressed Aldora, looking to Harriet’s companions. “It’s a…” She glanced towards Haethowine. He was still busy talking to the newly married couple. “Suspected murderer.”

  Ginny hissed in a worried inhale. “What’s the difference? Are they dangerous?”

  “Don’t be an idiot,” said Harriet before Aldora could explain. “Nobody’s seen the person kill someone and they haven’t put him to trial yet. Duh, of course he’s dangerous. Otherwise a royal detective would be arresting them, not a royal official or Aldora.”

  “Oh…” Ginny looked at Aldora. “Sorry.”

  Aldora shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, Gin.” Aldora described Raneth’s assigned criminal.

  Mikko pointed behind Aldora. “Like that guy?”

  The Dagger Bearer turned and her breath caught in her chest, seizing her ribcage as she found hazel eyes staring right at her. The man was taller than Aldora but not as tall as Raneth, and had curly light brown hair that peeked out from the almost grey hood of his blue jacket. The baggy arms of his coat hid if he was muscular or not, but as Jules Rivermud lifted his palm towards Aldora, she unfroze. She yanked free the Dagger of Protection as the suspected murderer’s blood-gift spewed the slime towards her. Aldora sidestepped, the transparent slime smashing into Harriet behind her. The girls behind Aldora screamed. She looked at them over her shoulder. “Get her out of here!” The girls did as instructed, dragging their sticky friend away from the marketplace.

  Jules grabbed Aldora’s neck and lifted her into the air, grinning. “Bayre’s girl.”

  Aldora jabbed at his arm with the Dagger. He screeched and dropped her as Haethowine smashed into Rivermud’s back with his shoulder, sending them sprawling atop Aldora.

  By griffin feathers, they’re heavy! Aldora flinched as Haethowine thumped his large fist into Jules’ head but the wanted criminal twisted at the torso, his hands reaching for Haethowine despite the weird angle. Aldora tried to creep out from under them but her right leg was pinned under their waists. The Dagger. Where’s the Dagger? She spotted it just out of reach, near where Harriet had been standing. Oh no. It was sitting in a small pool of the blood-gift substance. No. No. No.

  “Stand down!” snapped Haethowine, as he clumsily straddled Rivermud and tried to punch the criminal.

  Jules grabbed Haethowine’s fist but the two adults shifted, just enough that Aldora wiggled her leg free and raced to the Dagger of Protection. She shoved her hand into the slime around it, seizing the grip of the gold blade and spun, pointing it towards t
he two men. Or at least, that was what she tried to do. The slime stopped her halfway, yanking her back towards it as the tendril slumped back towards the pool. No way. Dagger, if I’m to be any good as a Dagger Bearer, you need to start helping me! She yanked at the Dagger again as she heard choking behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Jules grinning as he leaned over Haethowine. Somehow he’d rolled on top and he had his hand shoved across Haethowine’s nose and mouth. Something was sliding down Haethowine’s cheek. Oh Giften’s soil! He’s putting that stuff in Winnie’s mouth! Aldora spun her focus to the Dagger. If I don’t free you from this stuff, he’ll die!

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” hissed Rivermud, jamming his other hand on top of his other one. Aldora glanced at Julia and her husband. They were just standing on the other side of the market square, looking shocked.

  Why aren’t the adults helping? Aldora whipped her attention to the Dagger. I swear if you don’t help me save Haethowine, I’ll melt you down in dad’s forge! The yellow gem in the centre of the guard sparkled with forks of lightning that grew within it, before the forks crackled and slid out from the gem. The blood-gift substance around the blade turned yellow, hardening as the lightning pummelled into it without harming Aldora. She yanked it free and the substance cracked and gave way to the yank, allowing her to turn and face Rivermud. She pointed the split blade of the Dagger at the criminal. Haethowine’s hands were smacking at Rivermud’s face, trying to get him off, trying to stop Rivermud from choking him to death but as Aldora looked at the two, her eyes caught upon something that shouldn’t have been there. A royal official’s throwing dagger. The simple blade that bore no guard or hilt was against Rivermud’s hip, looped into his belt with a thin sliver of fraying rope. Is Raneth’s hurt? Is that why he—