Chapter 23

Fully completed story on:

patreon.com/FanFictionPremium

***

When you put your belongings in storage in a place that was questionable for the job, you should always expect some mishap to happen that could make you regret your choice of storage location. Though it was not I who searched the hangar, but Detmold, the realisation that several valuable items had been stolen from us: four rolls of quality silk; a couple of expensive pieces of jewellery; and some silver bars, made me regret trusting the overweight merchant.

- I pushed the merchant to the ground so that he was in one of the corners of the hangar.

- Did you steal a lot? - After watching my actions, Detmold came to his senses and ran to the carts to inspect the goods. - You belching Ghoul! - and then, running up to the panicked merchant, kicked him in the shoulder.

- Wait! Gentlemen, wait! I don't understand how this could have happened! - The merchant wailed after the second blow from Detmold. - I didn't steal it, I swear I didn't steal it!

- Then who is it, a housekeeper? Or do you have sleepwalking, and you do not remember how you took our goods out of the carts!? - this time he got a slap from me. My anger at the spoilt morning had made the merchant's face twist from the blow.

- Eren! - Galanthea drew my attention. - Look here.

At one of the walls of the hangar, on the left side of the entrance, Galantea found attached boards hiding a small passage into the room.

- Here! I didn't steal it! Somebody got into the hangar, and I wasn't involved! - The merchant continued to justify himself while Detmold held him back, preventing him from leaving the hangar.

- Shut up, or you'll get another one,' Detmold threatened him. - You think someone broke into the hangar? Maybe so, but I don't believe it.

- I don't like it. I think we'd better make sure he's right,' I turn round to face them. - I'll try mind-reading on you. You probably won't like it, and I don't have much experience.

- Hey, let go of me, you don't have to go into my head! - The merchant panicked more than before and started to break free from Detmold's grasp.

To calm the alleged thief, I stretch my palm forward, forming with my fingers the gesture for the Sign of Axias, then I use a witch's spell on it:

- Sleep.

The man closed his eyelids, and then began to fall on his side. He was brought back to a standing position thanks to Detmold.

Axius had learnt it at the Ban Ard Academy itself, when he went into the personal training of the Rector. He had a lot of knowledge in his personal library, witch marks being one of them. The wizarding counterparts are much more powerful and have a wider range of uses, but in contrast, they are difficult to use and cost a lot of effort.

I wasn't good at mental magic. Influencing the mind is a complex branch of the magical arts that requires careful study. So the next spell, Mind Reading, was going to be used in conjunction with a calming witch's sigil. Reading the thoughts of people who are not at rest, a level beyond my control at the moment. Speaking of wizards and other creatures with a magical block on the mind, so there is no chance there, even in a dormant state will not work.

- Hold still,' I had to put my palms on the merchant's temples to start diving into his mind.

It was not an easy task, I had to keep my concentration at all times. There were two ways to find the information I needed: to make someone else's consciousness follow his memory; or to send him various thought images so that he would start thinking about the moments of the past. I chose the second option. The first one required much more effort, and it was used in case it was necessary to scour the memory of a mage with protection - only the most skilful spellcasters could do such a thing.

Soon I got to the information I needed. The merchant was not honest with us. He was right about one thing - he didn't steal. But he was complicit in the theft. As I continued to delve into Garbis's past, I slowly built up a picture.

Garbis had had some bad luck in recent years. First he started having problems with his employees. The coachmen, and later the porters, began asking for a raise, which did not please the merchant, whose earnings began to sag. He refused to give them more wages, and when they did not show up the next day during the dispatch of carts from the city, he decided to dismiss the 'frumpy' kmetovs. But what Garbis did not take into account was the talkativeness of his workers: they spread the word about the bad and greedy merchant, which made the new workers not rush to him. Then came the problem with the mercenaries, who were not going to stay in the city without pay. For a couple of weeks he paid for their services, and they were happily drunk in taverns, but in the third week he had to part with them, so as not to get poor, because the goods had not been exported, and therefore still dusted in carts inside the hangar. In the end, with tears in his eyes, Garbis had to sell the goods to other merchants, along with the carts, and then look for another way to make money. His enterprising grasp worked as it should, he now began renting out his hangar to passing merchants. This went on for over a month until he caught one ragamuffin making a hole in his hangar. At first he wanted to turn the kid in to the guards, but the guard quickly changed his mind, offering to work with their gang and split the catch in half. When he saw the sacks of gold in front of him again, Garbis agreed at once.

And when Detmold came to him with our wagons and offered to rent a hangar for a couple of days, the merchant didn't even think that his plan could go wrong.

- An idiot fooled by easy money,' he spat at the merchant's feet as soon as he left his mind.

The merchant himself looked bad, and after waking up he was bound to get a terrible headache - a consequence of my mediocre skills in mental magic.

- Well,' the second wizard in our group stared at me expectantly, finally letting go of the mooing man. - Kral, right?

- Not really, anyway, listen...

Detmold didn't know whether he should cry or laugh at the retelling. We can't get our lost goods back that easily. There were only two clues left: the appearance of the teenager and the gang member who had encouraged Garbis to take part in the theft; and the location of the alleged gang in the Temple Quarter.

- It looks like we're going to have to go to the Temple Quarter, find those bastards, and get our stuff back,' Detmold said, clutching at his head and expressing my thoughts at the same time. - The whole day's work is wasted, and it's not certain that we'll find them, or maybe they were outsiders, or even in the forests. What are we going to do about it?' I kicked the merchant again.

- We'll immobilise and sedate them after we've found our goods. Galanthea, can you watch the hangar from the street while this one lies tied up inside?

- No problem. Eren, just stay out of trouble,' she asked me lastly.

- We're already in trouble.

Got into trouble when we weren't looking for it. So much for local realities. And not just local.

We couldn't wait to deal with the thieves of our stuff right away. So we tied up the merchant tightly, put an improvised gag in his mouth and left his unconscious body lying in a corner of the hangar.

The hangar was closed, and Galantea was put on guard. Not that I demanded that she prevent the merchant from escaping if anyone came to see him, no, she just stayed behind to keep an eye on the situation.

Can he escape? All right. We'll get the details from her and then we'll find the merchant again. Either way, he can't complain to the guards, he broke the law. If he lies, we'll get him out in front of the guards, and they'll deal with him themselves. We'll even pay them extra to deal with him better.

- Who are we looking for? - It wasn't hard to get to the Temple Quarter. It was time to start looking.

- A red-haired boy, no more than ten years old, well, that's what he looked like. Hair cut short. Clothing is not to say that notable, a grey jumper with patches of the same grey shades. Height...' I point my palm above the ground. - About that.

- And the man?

- Even less recognisable. He wore a dark blue hooded cloak. He had stubble, black hair, long, by the way - it was visible from under the hood - somewhere up to his chin. Right, a scar on his lower lip on the right side.

- A witch doctor would have been nice. That's who would have no trouble finding the thieves. Detmold wasn't keen on becoming a bloodhound, and neither was I.

- They're into monsters.

- From the Cat's School?

- Hmm, - they'd rather work as mercenaries and killers of more than monsters, I'll even say it differently, they'd rather take orders for a human. - I'll grant you, I could use one of those. But, definitely not this time, - having finished the conversation, we started searching for thieves, treading the streets of the Temple Quarter.