Leir followed in Baldovin’s shadow, practically bouncing across the floor of the tavern. It was finally time! Baldovin was letting him in on the investigation and showing him the ropes!

“Before we begin,” Baldovin said, leading Leir out the back into a vacant lot, “I’d like to continue your training a little, while we have some time.”

“We should get right on it, though. The sooner we find Shadow Fang, the sooner we get my crystal back.” He winced, then hastily added, “The sooner we can bring her to justice, I mean.”

Why had he corrected himself? Leir never used to care what other people thought about his motivations. He chastised himself for looking weak in front of Baldovin.

“If you need to fight again, I’d like you to be at your very best,” Baldovin replied.

Baldovin raised his arms to guard his face and knelt down so Leir could throw a few punches, occasionally stepping back or to the side so Leir would have to adjust his stance. Leir summoned up all his magical strength and started going at it like a boxer, using the form and breathing techniques that Baldovin had taught him. No matter how hard he hit, though, Baldovin barely flinched and Leir quickly felt his knuckles start to ache.

“Harder, Leir! Harder!”

Leir went faster. His arms ached and his breathing hitched, but Leir didn’t slow down. As his vision became unfocused, Leir missed a swing and fell forward, barely catching himself by falling to his knees.

“Good job! Get up! Keep going! Let’s practice your flames!”

Nodding, Leir forced himself to his feet. He threw out a few punches that erupted into weak bursts of fire. He waved his arm to release a wave of small flames. He thrust his hands out and sent out a pitiful flamethrower.

Leir was doing better than before, but nowhere near as good as he needed to be. What was he doing wrong? The others had talked about him finding the purpose of his magic, what it stood for, but had given him no clues about how to find that.

He would figure it out on his own, then.

When they stepped back inside the tavern, Baldovin asked Summer Scarlet to draw a bath for each of them. Leir’s knees were shaking. Lotus Dust got up from the bar where she was sitting and came over to scowl at Baldovin.

“You’re pushing him too hard!” she snapped, gesturing at Leir. “He can barely stand!”

“The boy is fine.” Baldovin patted Leir on the shoulder, nearly sending him sprawling. “He knows what his limits are better than you do, Lotus.”

“I am an adult,” Leir growled, his ears flat. “I am capable of making my own decisions. I do not like being condescended to.”

“Exactly.” Again, Baldovin patted him on the shoulder. “Make sure you wash up before we go out.”

Summer Scarlet came to tell him that the bath had been drawn and Baldovin followed her. Lotus Dust rolled her eyes and gestured for Leir to follow her to the bar. He needed to sit, anyway.

Lotus Dust poured Leir some water.

“Drink.”

“I told you—”

“You’re going to pass out if you don’t drink.”

Leir snorted, but obeyed.

Lotus Dust continued, “Don’t take Baldovin too seriously. His heart is in the right place, but he doesn’t always know how to respect people’s limitations.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not—”

“I am. I’m just as capable of magic as everyone else and I am going to prove it, just wait.”

“We talked about this, Leir. Like with the tent, if you’re struggling with something, we want you to ask for more help.”

Leir’s face burned.

“I hate being judged for something that I’m new at.”

“Nobody is judging you. We just want to help.”

She was lying, though. She had to be. If nothing else, he was still judging himself.

Once he had washed and changed into his favorite and only dress, Leir put on some sandals and followed Baldovin out into the city. He stared at the chipping paint of the complex patterns decorating the buildings, of the strange conical pyramids built higher up on the mountain walls, and the larger buildings that had reliefs carved into them. There was nowhere on Earth quite like this, and he was grateful to be able to see it.

As they walked, Baldovin explained, “Because we’re often looking for criminals, we have two ways that we present ourselves. If we suspect that the person is a civilian, we give the impression we work for official sources, doing our best not to lie and claim to be something that can be investigated. Most people will cooperate with an authoritative figure. For people we suspect, we use language that implies we’re criminals ourselves and want to work together.”

“Are we criminals?”

“We’re generally on good terms with local law enforcement.”

Baldovin asked questions of the locals, presenting an air of authority and friendliness that seemed to lure people in. Leir watched but not intently. He had risen from the bottom to become CEO of his own company. He knew how to present himself.

What was the state of Starfield Enterprises right at that moment? It made Leir’s stomach turn into knots. He’d been missing for weeks without any kind of contact. Even during his most impromptu vacations, Leir had never completely cut off contact.

Leir couldn’t be declared dead until he’d been missing for seven years. That assumed that someone didn’t raise a stink and convince authorities to make an exception so they could take his money. It assumed that the same amount of time passed in both worlds and Leir wouldn’t return decades later at the same age he left. It assumed that Leir returned as a human man and not some kind of teenage girl, fox ears or no!

It took Baldovin placing a hand on Leir’s chest for him to realize that he was hyperventilating. His vision was spotty and the world was spinning. Leir grasped at Baldovin’s hand to keep himself steady.

“Leir, focus on my voice. You’re strong and going to get through this. Breathe in and out slowly. I’m not going to let you go, but you have to do this on your own. You can do this on your own.”

He did his best to obey, but it was difficult. Leir believed Baldovin. Everything would be alright if Leir just tried hard enough. Slowly, his breathing settled and Leir found himself able to see again, though he felt like he was still about to fall over.

“I’m okay,” he gurgled.

If he told himself that, he could make himself believe it.

Baldovin simply nodded and grinned. “Good! Let’s keep going.”

He went right back to talking to people, but Leir wasn’t paying attention. Sometimes someone would bump into him and say “Excuse me, Miss,” and it would stick in his brain for a few minutes for him to obsess over. Mostly, though, he was focused on his conversation with Burrow from that morning.

Leir still wasn’t sure exactly how to implement the ideas he’d come up with. He knew that he would need materials that wouldn’t be used up by the machine every time he wanted to use it. The biggest obstacle to that, though, was money. Without even a prototype, Leir had no way to convince anyone to fund the project. He intended to turn a profit off of it, but needed capital up front.

“I can see that you’re distracted by something,” Baldovin said glumly as they approached a large building of gray bricks.

“Sorry. Just under a lot of stress. What is this place?”

They climbed the steps and through the double doors as Baldovin explained, “The city runs several temples, staffed by both dwarfs and spirits, where spirits in need can receive food, bedding, and health care as long as they help take care of the temple during the duration of their stay. It’s where we’d have stayed if Summer Scarlet didn’t have a place for us.”

Stepping into the temple felt like stepping into a pagan cathedral, a large open room filled with small statues of various spirits made out of precious metal. Light filtered in through stained glass windows and covered the whole room in color. Dwarfs and spirits in white robes wandered about, some carrying baskets. It was the first evidence Leir had seen that the dwarfs truly revered spirits the way elves did their gods.

“It’s smart to make people work for their care, though I detest the idea of the government being in charge instead of it being for-profit.”

“The temple doesn’t refuse service to the ill or weak who can’t contribute, Leir. It’s important that people are willing to help out and take care of each other the same way that we’ve helped you, is it not?”

Heat rushed to Leir’s face and he glanced down.

One of the dwarfs came up to them, barely reaching Baldovin’s waist, and said, “Hello, Sir, Miss.” Bubbles rose in Leir’s stomach. “How can I help you?”

“We’re investigating reports of suspicious individuals. Will you take us to see the administrator on duty?”

The dwarf nodded and led them down a side hallway toward some offices.

Quietly, Baldovin asked, “Leir, why is it that you don’t correct people when they misidentify you?”

“It would be more trouble than it’s worth,” Leir mumbled.

“I disagree. We should take pride in who we are and expect others to respect that. Your appearance doesn’t define you.”

“If it bothers me, I’ll correct people.”

The administrator was also a dwarf, sitting at a wooden desk far too big for him. The office was comfy, with a nice woolen rug and small abstract sculptures carved from stone on pedestals. A half-covered window let in just enough light to see by.

When Baldovin had explained, the administrator told them, “Unfortunately, I haven’t seen anyone matching those descriptions passing through recently.”

“Are you certain? They may not have come in all at once. In fact, it’s likely that they all split up when they arrived.”

“There are a fair number of oread who live in these mountains. Bastet, too, and Tengu aren’t rare anywhere. If one of them came in, especially under a false name, I wouldn’t be able to single them out for you. I can confidently say that we haven’t had any anura in the past few months. Not in this climate.”

Baldovin nodded, then thanked the man for his time. On the way out, they passed by another fox spirit, not dressed in robes, who looked only a little older than Leir and was sweeping the floor. She looked guilty about something.

“Wait. Did you overhear what we were talking about?” he asked her.

She gaped for a moment before shrinking down and admitting, “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have been listening in. I was robbed by a spirit who matched the description of the anura you gave. She threatened to make me sick if I didn’t give her my money. I left the district and came here to feel safe again.”

Leir shared a glance with Baldovin before asking, “Where was this? Be as specific as you can.”

When they had an idea of where they were going, Leir and Baldovin hopped into a small, crowded cable car that pulled them up the mountainside. Leir kept his gaze out the windows, marveling at the city that stretched out far below and above him. It was pure novelty, and that was something you didn’t come across much at Leir’s age.

“Do you think you’d ever settle down in a dwarf city?” Baldovin asked.

“I’m not sure. It feels good to be revered, but I want to earn my keep. There’s also so much of the world I haven’t seen yet, and everyone insists that spirits are travelers by nature.”

Baldovin nodded.

As they got higher up the mountain, though, Leir’s mood dropped. There was no point in thinking about seeing more of the world. It was just a stupid thought experiment.

He was sour even as Baldovin continued asking questions. The only thing to shake him out of his funk was seeing a bearded dwarf pushing a too-large cart of machine parts. Intrigued, Leir started to follow the man. It took a moment for Baldovin to follow.

“A lead?”

“I don’t know yet.”

The dwarf came to a two-story square house that blended in with the painted buildings around it. He slammed the door behind him, but Leir ran up and rapped on the door with his knuckles. After a moment, the dwarf opened the door with a scowl that melted into confusion instantly at the sight of Leir wagging his tail on the doorstep.

“Hello. I saw what was in your cart and I have to know: are you an inventor, by chance?”

The dwarf, Thorir, invited them in. Leir was sure to take his shoes off at the doorway before running in and soaking up the familiar sights of a workshop. Tables and shelves were everywhere, covered in mechanical devices.

“What business does a pair like you have with me?” Thorir demanded.

“We’re investigating some criminals,” Leir replied as he toured the workshop. “Have you encountered an anura in these parts?”

“Don’t know what business a frog has in Adalnard. They should stick to the lakes and rivers, if you ask me.” He turned to spit into a copper spittoon. “Don’t see many orcs either. Doesn’t seem cold enough for your kind.”

Baldovin took over the questioning while Leir stared at some of the clockwork devices that Thorir was working on. He even picked up one before Thorir shouted at him to put it down. Leir didn’t mind, though. Rudeness was often a sign of genius, after all, and Leir felt a kinship to him.

“Leir,” Baldovin finally said, “I don’t think we’re going to get any answers, here.”

“Yeah… You go ahead! I want to talk with Thorir a little bit.”

Baldovin nodded and went to retrieve his boots.

“Missy, I’m a very busy man—”

“I want to use your workshop,” Leir said, running up to him. “You have the tools and supplies that I need to develop an idea that I have.”

“I can’t just let strange children play around in my workshop.” He spat again. “Some of this is very valuable and delicate.”

Leir stood up straight and declared, “I’m impressed by what you’re working on. Clearly, you are a man who knows your field inside and out. I am, too. There is a need for people like you and I, creative inventors who challenge everyone’s notions about what kind of world we live in.

“My plan is to create a device that will revolutionize magic altogether, but I lack the equipment I need. In the same way that you, Thorir, needed help from others to get where you are today, I need a boost to get back on the level of my peers. Where can I work?”

Thorir’s expression had softened considerably.

“Well, Miss, I can’t rightly ignore such an impassioned speech such as that. I’ll let you work here for a few hours a day as long as you don’t take up too much space or use many supplies.”

“I promise,” Leir replied, though his nose twitched. It had been a very long time since he’d worked under someone else’s rules. “I will be back tomorrow.”

He made to leave, but Thorir said, “Before you go: I didn’t catch your name.”

Leir paused, his heart pounding. Thorir thought he was a girl. For whatever reason, the thought of him discovering the truth made him gulp.

“Octave,” he replied.

Octave was a girl he’d known in the Children’s Home. They’d never been friends, but he’d always thought she had a really cool name. He had no idea what had happened to her, but she wouldn’t mind him borrowing the name.

“It’ll be a pleasure to work with you, Octave.”

QuillRabbit

Octave? Now, why would a normal cis guy need a feminine name to avoid being "mistaken" for a man? Well, at least it looks like Leir is going to get the opportunity to pursue his own plans for a bit.

If you want to read ahead, the next chapter is already available on my Patreon for $3+ patrons! If you want more stories by me, you can find some on itch or buy my first book on Amazon!

Special thanks to my patrons of honor: Alex, Chloe Werner, Elsie Esc, Grymmette, Victoria, and Zyla Kat!