“The Faculty of the Mundane is both the University of Sabbelah’s largest and least respected faculty. A dumping ground for subjects unrelated to magic. Mathematics, natural sciences, and logistics.”

  -Lee Yang

  The silence that followed Komena’s deduction was broken by quiet chuckling from the woman in brown robes.

  “Outside your area of expertise. Ha. Seems we weren’t the only ones with cards hidden up our sleeves.” She said, waving a hand. The wall of fire was quickly smothered in flickering spurts, like it was being stomped out. When the blue robed man opened his mouth, she immediately stopped laughing and glared at him.

  “The time for misinformation has passed. She is obviously too crafty to have wandering about uninformed. Or would you prefer she uncover some of your secrets trying to dig out the truth?”

  When no one spoke up she looked down towards Komena. “The Dean of Evocation had recently taken to boasting about a recent project. She held the details of it close to her chest, but she was confident in its importance.”

  “Wouldn’t be quiet about it.” The grey Dean muttered.

  “When the opportunity to finally see her notes on the matter presented itself last night, we were all quite eager to take it. But the room had been ransacked before we arrived. You will find this research, before it can reach the wrong hands.” Continued the Dean of Agriculture.

  “Worse hands than someone who killed a dean?” Komena asked.

  “Obviously. Someone with a common grudge would have dueled her and been done with it. Assassination suggests a conspiracy. Conspiracy suggests a sponsor, and they need not be a local. Every nation covets whatever scrap of knowledge they can pilfer from us.” The transmuter said. “A dean’s spell might even be enough to push those fools into competence.”

  Sabbelah’s trade was based on monopoly. With how much they imported, it was the only way to break even.

  “Of course, understanding your concerns is a vital first step. By your leave, my Deans.” Komena said, dread pushing her shoulders down as she sketched another bow. Then she turned and left the council room, as quick as wouldn’t get her struck down. She was proud to still have enough were withal to hear steps follow her out. She was followed out.

  “I was very impressed by your deduction in there. The Dean of Illusion’s idea to hire you shows great promise.” The Gray Dean said, casually dragging the conference door closed before holding out a hand. “For formal introductions, I am Jaghar Taim, Dean of the Mundane. If I can be of assistance during your investigation, do not hesitate to ask.”

  “I’ll be sure too. This is too serious for me not to.” Komena said. She didn’t hesitate to shake the hand. It would have been more dangerous to reject it. His grip started gently but tightened slightly more than was polite. “Although, and I mean no offense by this, it would be most helpful right now to know how much I will be paid for this job.”

  “What? Is patriotism not enough motivation?” The Dean replied before chuckling and releasing her. He took small leather bag off his belt and passed it to Komena. “This a down payment. Half of the total. You’ll be paid the rest upon finding the culprit and returning the research.”

  She tugged the drawstring open and peeked into the bag. Better to know how much her time, and life were valued. The unassuming pouch was filled with shining green gems, each at least the size of a tern’s egg. Her mouth dried.

  “Emeralds?” She asked. It was a stupid question. The desert and the sea didn’t provide the metal for printing coins. But they did provide other minerals, and the city had the knowledge of how gems were formed. Magic provided the heat and the pressure to make them, as well as an overly elaborate illusion to mark the ones created by the University separate from the forgeries. This pouch contained several years of the salary Khalid and Ervan had been squabbling over this morning. A second pouch would make Komena’s career an indulgence for the rest of her life.

  “Yes, emeralds. We find it equally important to reward success as we do to punish failure.” The dean pulled an envelope out of his robe. “Here is a picture of the victim. A copy of her official portrait that from the university records. It isn’t the one she used most frequently, but it should suit your purposes.” With that the Dean of the Mundane walked down the halls and out of sight.

  Komena sighed and opened the envelope. The picture was the Dean of Evocation in her official red robes. She was in the traditional academic photo pose, the only difference being an upraised hand with electricity crackling between the fingers. The woman herself was striking. Smooth, dusky skin. Dark hair that went down to her waist, highlighted with wires of silver. Eyes sparkling with intelligence over a wry smile, anchored by a large hawk like nose and framed by a strong jawline. The Dean of Evocation wasn’t old for her position and the years she had didn’t detract from her beauty.

  “Which portrait did she use the most? This will serve, but people will recognize what they’re most familiar with.” Komena asked as she tucked it away.

  “We, the Deans, have decided to redact that portrait. To preserve the dignity of our institution and the deceased. Her popular choice was a fair bit more intimate.” Taim said, before he began casting. Another glassy bird hatched from the wall and perched on his finger. This one had a pointed peak and powerful wings for its size. “Struth will be expecting you when you find him. Send him my regards. We are all quite eager to hear what you report.”

  The Dean flicked his finger, and the bird soared off down the hall faster than the receptionist’s parakeet had. Komena broke into a run to keep it in her sight. She only heard the dean walk away but was certain there had been a mocking wave to her before he had.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  The bird led her from the main hallways into the smaller side passages. Eventually, it led to a back exit and into the city streets. It soared above the crowds, without slowing down. She almost lost it a few times when she looked down to dodge out of some passerby's way, but she was able to follow its twinkling path in the sky down a few streets before it flew over a fence of wrought iron.

  Inside was a series of luxurious apartments, tall and well-built from smooth painted brick with a maintained lawn and path leading from the gate to the three buildings. The iron fence wasn't the only thing imported from the other continents. Colorful plants, suffering in the heat but still blooming with life were planted around. Statues, lanterns, and other decorations were laid around each building, marking out territories. The bird landed on the door handle of the least decorated of these buildings. As Komena opened the gate and went towards the complex, the bird flew off again to return to its source.

  Komena let herself look around as she went down the path. She didn't like what she saw. There had been a few immigrants to Sabbelah over the years and of course they brought things from their homelands. But individuals weren't granted space to display them. They decorated the insides of their homes and stores, like everyone else. The exception here meant these were important people. The idea of meeting more politicians made Komena's teeth grind.

  Then again, if any of these people truly mattered, they would have guards and attendants. No sign of those as Komena knocked on the door. No one opened it with a sneer or a simper or a blade under her chin.

  She tested the door. It was unlocked, so she let herself in, bracing for someone to start shouting. Instead, she found a rather nice, but empty reception area. A desk where a greeter should have been and some benches for waiting. All made of carved wood, though a little overwrought with the decor. Too many bones and suns for Komena's taste.

  Up against one of the walls was a board listing names and rooms. According to it, most of the rooms were empty. But a certain Struth Ironheart lived on the second floor. It only took a few minutes for her to climb the stairs and go through the door lined hallways. They were silent, the few others who should have been on this floor out and attending to their own business. Hopefully Struth wasn't among them.

  She came up to his door, knocked and waited. Fortunately, it didn’t take long for it to be opened by a young man. He was wearing long, light gray robes, the hem of which fluttered like he was nervously shuffling his feet. A common student’s pouch hung from his belt, containing whatever materials the spells he studied needed. His exposed hands and face were tanned to like leather. He wore an almost large turban, tall as it was wide and as wide as is thin shoulders. Maybe someone had tricked him into thinking it was the coming style? Regardless, the boy was obviously on alert, looking past and around her for hidden figures, his free hand constantly sketching half-finished gestures for spells.

  “Who are you?” He asked, turning most of his attention to her.

  “My name is Komena Siri. I’m a private investigator, recently hired by the University. Apparently, my first task is to get in contact with Struth Ironheart. Sign says this is his room.”

  “I wasn’t told about this. What are you meeting him about?” The boy asked, half closing the door, as if to shield the room from her. Komena was saved from arguing her way in by someone yelling.

  “Kave! Is someone there?” The thickly accented voice boomed. “Etiquette, Boy! Let them in! And put some tea for us!”

  Another sigh from the boy, Kave she assumed, as he opened the door and motioned for her to get inside.

  Their room was small, but richly decorated in a Corlin style. Elaborately carved wooden furniture on top of the large carpet covering the floor. A landscape painting of a fog covered mountain on a bleak moor was propped up on the mantle, right under a well-maintained glaive hung on the wall.

  “Ahh, it’s been a while since we’ve had a guest.” The voice from before said. It came from a short man, barely cresting five feet. His shortness was accented by a long gray beard, bound into thick braids with brass rings, and by his muscular frame, being almost as wide as he was short. Behind the beard, he wore long pants and a button-down shirt under a vest. In concession to the desert heat, his clothes were entirely white, the sleeves rolled to elbow and one or two more shirt buttons were undone than was strictly proper. He had the kind of tan that one got from many previous burns, while the little skin Komena could see under his beard was still a milky white. His teeth were barred in slightly manic smile. “My name is Struth of clan Ironheart, guest lecturer at the honored Faculty of the Mundane and diplomat from Corlin. You’ve already met my ward, Kave. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

  “I was hired by the deans to investigate a murder for them. I was told you would supervise the investigation. Have you already been given the details?” Komena asked.

  “The few Taim believed I could be trusted with before matters began officially. A dreadful thing to happen to anyone. I can only hope her funeral will be grand enough to lay such a woman to rest. Though what arrangements would be necessary for that. A national holiday perhaps?”

  “Sir. If you could stay on topic.” Kave said, stepping back into main room. He was holding a platter with some sugar cubes, fine teacups and a long spouted, silver teapot. Kave put the plater on a nearby table and began serving drinks.

  “Yes, yes, my boy. Apologies. Needless to say, madam, resolving this issue is our top priority.” Struth said as he took a filled teacup, crushed a sugar cube into it with a spoon, and sat down into a high-backed chair. It was large enough that Struth’s feet were barely touching the ground. “If there is anything we can do to help you, we’re at your beck and call.”

  Struth began sipping the steaming tea. Komena took a cup for herself. A quality blend, even without sugar it had a floral sweetness to it. She spent some time sipping the drink waiting for Struth to continue. Instead, he contently kept drinking away without a care in the world. Fine, if he wanted to have a standoff, Komena could hold her own.

  Minutes went by without a single word spoke between the three. Kave stood by the tea, slowly sipping and glancing over at Komena. Komena had taken a seat across from Struth, doing her best to maintain casual eye contact with him. This was difficult because Struth was absently looking around the room, like he was following some invisible gnat as it flitted about. Struth finished his tea and got up for a second cup. Kave sighed and turned to her.

  “It also goes without saying that we’re not investigators.” He said. “We wouldn’t know where to begin something like this, unless those two garnet serials they sell are valid guidelines for solving murders. So, you’ll be taking charge, and we’ll simply provide support when we can.”

  “Think of us more as bureaucratic assistants than as supervisors. We’ll keep an eye on your investigation, report back to the Deans so you don’t have to, and do as you tell us otherwise.” Struth said as he put the finishing touches on his second cup of tea. “Personally, I’m rather hopeful for this opportunity. I haven’t had any excitement since I came to this city.” Kave sighed again, crossing his arms, but didn’t say anything.

  Komena finished her tea and stood up. If there was any good news, it was that she wouldn’t be fighting some up jumped academic every step of the way.

  “In that case, it should be obvious what we’ll do next.” She said. “It’s the first thing they do in those rags you’ve been reading. Investigate the scene of the crime.”

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