File type: Text File (.txt) [Download]
-----------------------------------------
As the skies above Kubikiholt grew darker by the minute, Cajuea continued to wait in her hotel room, remaining certain that she was safe. Besides, she had enough of her magic allowance left to defend herself, not to mention some of her other abilities. The only things she was concerned about now were the factors that could potentially delay or even cancel the gryphon’s arrival.  Even if not preparing herself for the worst-case scenario, she’d have to keep in mind that failure was always possible, and take pre-emptive steps to combat any potential issues affecting her return to the Island. 
She reached for her phone on the bedside table after noticing that Nik had sent her a good few text messages. The first was a confirmation that her gryphon had departed the Island without any issues, and the second was a general check-in to see if everything else was going according to plan (said plan involved doing almost nothing for twelve hours straight — there was little that could mess it up apart from an emergency.) It’s all good over here, Cajuea sent. Thanks again for the info. 
Excellent, Nik replied. He then followed with, We’re eagerly awaiting your return. The we in question was him and Sivieziu. The latter was a Therian who acquired all kinds of supplies for the Island, and one of the only people she had a particularly close relationship with. After weeks of having no contact at all with her other friends and acquaintances, his presence would be gladly welcomed. The edges of her lips curved upwards at the thought of meeting Siv again. She felt much more comfortable discussing risqué topics when around him, and had no qualms about hinting towards them in public, either. In all, he certainly brought out a side of her that was never on display when she ran errands for Nik. 
If she was going to get any rest in the coming hours, she couldn’t allow herself to be any more vulnerable. As for how she could keep herself busy, there was always the restaurant downstairs, along with other facilities hosted in the hotel, though it was still best for her to stay in her room throughout the remainder of her stay. She had to keep an eye out for any important messages or announcements from Nik, too, so sleeping the entire time wasn’t a good option. 
Before placing her phone back on the table, Cajuea made sure to double up the protective spell around her room.

There was more than one way in Kubikiholt to hunt down an elusive mage. That much Stacia knew, time constraints notwithstanding. As expected, searching up Ms. Qyauk’s alias on the internet returned no results. Any investigative work would have to be done within the city. She doubted the police would be able to provide any substantial information about Ms. Qyauk, given that she was likely using magecraft to avoid detection. So, at first, she figured it might be a good idea to use her target’s own weapons against her by hiring a specialist mage to search through nearby hotels for any sign of protective magic. That plan fell apart, however, when one considered that any experienced mage would know how to foil such tactics.
So, if magic was out of the question, then how would she know where to look? Quite frankly, it appeared counter-intuitive on the surface — after all, what was the use of a relatively standard investigation technique if the subject of said investigation was anything but standard? It all came down to whether or not adequate preparations had been made on Nik’s and Ms. Qyauk’s part. If her hunch was correct, then they’d underestimated both her and her prowess as a PI. Complacency could easily lead to one forgetting that they weren’t immune to some of the oldest tricks in the book. Stacia, for one, wasn’t going to make that mistake. 

Hours passed by like minutes. Cajuea took to the balcony outside of her hotel room and watched evening turn into night, watched the sunset and moonrise. Cold wind brushed against her skin, and she thought of how the rush of air around her would feel as the gryphon carried her across the ocean. She could already visualise the tides rolling beneath her as they stirred and distorted the reflection of the night sky. In her mind, Kubikiholt’s skyline and the Old Town became cliffs and crags jutting out of the sea. She couldn’t remember the last time when she’d been so eager to just get away from it all. 

Meanwhile, Stacia began to corroborate a network of informants, starting with several people outside of the bar. They might not have been able to pinpoint the exact place where ‘Kessa’ was staying, but they were able to offer some general ideas about where they might’ve seen her in the city. Eventually, Stacia decided she had enough reports and sightings to formulate a possible range for Ms. Qyauk’s whereabouts.

Stacia backed against a wall, her feathers shifting to a matching dark brown. She took out a crude map of western Kubikiholt, which she’d marked with red dots, each one representing where approximately an informant had sighted Ms. Qyauk. According to the new intel she’d received, ‘Kessa’ was indeed staying on this very street. When gathered together, all the reported sightings converged around one area. She’d crossed out all the marks she’d deemed to be anomalous, and used the more reliable ones to narrow down the right place.
It was past midnight. In order to present a convincing cover story to the hotel staff, she had to think fast. The only shops open at this hour were convenience stores and takeaways. This street just so happened to be full of both of them. 
With haste, she ran towards the nearest takeaway, thinking of all the possible ways she could present her facade. 

Cajuea had lost count of the hours she’d waited on the balcony, instead retreating back to her bed. She wasn’t bored per se, just yearning for a change of scenery. She checked the time — it was a quarter to one, and if everything went accordingly, it’d only be fifteen minutes until the gryphon arrived. To the hotel staff, it’d seem as if she’d suddenly vanished — not that she was concerned about that, anyway. If anyone tried to find her in Kubikiholt, they’d end up with nothing. Tonight, she would finally put Kessa Myrvin to rest, and become Cajuea Qyauk once more. 
In the corner of her eye, she spotted a dark shape approaching on the horizon. From a distance, it appeared nondescript like anything else would, though she could clearly make out that it was approaching the hotel. 
The gryphon’s almost here, she texted Nik. Mobiles were generally in their infancy, and were only good for sending relatively simple messages. Since the connection was slow, it’d take a while for him to receive it. But by the time he did, she’d be well on her way to Kuva’jia — back home, and back to the sense of familiarity that her work didn’t allow. 

Hiding by the back of the takeaway, Stacia kept an eye out for any stray employees that might notice her. When it was this late, though, the only people she’d run into around here wouldn’t exactly be in a good frame of mind, let alone one that’d concern them with what anyone else was getting up to. Shifting the colour of her feathers to match the navy blue bricks making up most of the building, she snuck around to the back. She wasn’t going to try and dig through all of the waste bins piled outside of the back door to find a satisfactory disguise — it’d be a waste of time, and she doubted she’d be able to fish out any uniforms in the first place. Not to mention that it was downright disgusting! 
The door was open. All she needed to do now was get in unnoticed, steal the right clothes and then stop off at the hotel, pretending to deliver a meal for ‘Kessa’. Out of all the possible flukes she’d thought of, it was probably the least suspicious in the mind of a hotel clerk. That being said, she couldn’t fool Ms. Qyauk with it. Especially when she’d most likely placed a protective spell around her room, and would definitely know if she ordered food for herself.
Momentarily distracted by the smells emanating from the kitchen, Stacia peered in through the door, her feathers shifting to a pallid off-white to blend in with the interior walls. The cooks were preoccupied with making meals for their customers, giving her the metaphorical go-ahead to crawl under one of the counters. 
“Did you hear that?” one of the cooks asked. 
Shit, I have to make this quick, Stacia thought. She briefly looked up, spying two potential exits; the storefront to the left, and what appeared to be stairs on the right. What if the owner of this place lives upstairs? They might have some spare uniforms — exactly what I need! 
She overheard a conversation between several employees. Apparently, the owner of the takeaway was currently in a convenience store, seeking to buy some much-needed supplies. If that was true, then she thought it unlikely that anyone would be on the second floor. Still, she had to stay vigilant and watch her step. Too much noise could alert the people downstairs to her presence. She continued to crawl underneath the worktops until she reached the stairs, stifling a sigh of relief as she stood up and changed the colour of her feathers again. Her body turned a dull green like the wallpaper behind her. From where the cooks were standing, she was thankfully a lot harder to make out.
She tip-toed up the stairs. The air around her was cold, and the only things she could hear were her heartbeast and short, sharp breaths. When she came to the second floor, she quickly took note of the fact that all the lights had been turned off. The ambient light, coupled with the reflective layer of tissue in her eyes, meant that she could see quite well in the darkness. She checked all five of the rooms that were visible from here, spotting a wardrobe in one of the bedrooms. 
Taking care not to make any sudden movements while scouring the bedroom, she opened the wardrobe, sorting through at least twenty different items of clothing until she found a blouse with the takeaway’s logo embroidered onto its breast pocket. She put it on over her shirt — it was a little too small for her, but it’d suffice. She also swiped a crumpled hat hanging from a peg near to where the bed was. It displayed the same logo as the blouse, and had obviously seen better days. She couldn’t be sure how long whoever lived here had owned the spares for, though it had to be a considerable amount of time, judging by all the wear-and-tear. 
She went back down the stairs, reminding herself to stay careful. Once again, she crawled under the worktops, this time taking an empty white box from next to one of the deep fryers. It was practically a miracle she hadn’t been spotted then and there. Despite the fact that she’d shifted her colours to match her surroundings, the cooks would’ve easily noticed her wearing the same clothes as them. 
Stacia all but stumbled out of the back door, relieved that she’d pulled it all off without getting caught. Her feathers returned to their usual light-beige and dark-grey colour as she walked by the side of the takeaway. Soon, she was on the main road again. The lampposts emitted an eerie glow, drowning out the distant starlight. The hotel was straight ahead of her, dwarfing almost all of the other buildings in the vicinity. Some of the uppermost rooms had balconies, surely giving anyone who was staying in them a fantastic view of the city below. 
Stacia entered the hotel lobby, making a beeline for the clerk’s desk. A red-and-gold fleur-de-lis pattern covered the walls and ceiling, while the desk itself was made from polished white marble. Adjusting her hat and shaking her head in a huff, she hoped to be giving off the impression of being exhausted. She checked the time on her phone, muttering, “Crap! I’m going to be late! Where is she?”
“Do you need some assistance, ma’am?” the clerk said, taken aback by her act. She was a short-haired human wearing a long suit patterned with filigree. 
“I — someone staying in this hotel ordered a takeaway from down the street. I got a little mixed up on directions, b-but I’ve got my customer’s name. She’s called Kessa Myrvin.” the Drake said, continuing to feign panic. 
“And you need to deliver it in person?” the clerk asked.
“Yes. I just need her room number and the right floor.”
“Give me a second.” The woman tapped away at the keyboard in front of her, looking through all the records stored on her computer. “Kessa’s staying in room 425, on floor 6. The elevator’s to the far left of my desk.”
Stacia waved goodbye to her. With the box still in hand, she turned to the elevator. Once she was inside, she pushed the button labelled with the text “FLOOR 6”. Though there was nobody else with her, she still felt claustrophobic, and her growing uneasiness certainly didn’t help. How would she manage to convince Ms. Qyauk to open the door for her? She didn’t want to risk getting on her bad side. Posing as a delivery-woman wouldn’t work anymore. As the elevator stopped at the sixth floor, she cycled through all the things that might give Ms. Qyauk a reason to talk to a visitor.
The first thing she did after getting out of the elevator was take off her blouse. She wouldn’t be needing it now anyway, and wearing it on top of her shirt made her feel like she was out of breath. She discarded the hat and the empty box, too, and soon stepped outside of room 425, ready to do whatever it took to get more information out of Ms. Qyauk. 

Someone knocked at Cajuea’s door. 
Now, the gryphon’s wingbeats were audible. Her transport was mere metres away. There couldn’t have been a worse time for her to be discovered. She didn’t care who was outside of her room — she wouldn’t open the door for them. It had to be some kind of mistake or mix-up. She hadn’t given out her location to anyone in the city. Ignoring the knocks, she watched the window again, listening out for the telltale sound of talons touching the balcony’s floor. As much as she was tempted to give this person a piece of her mind, she needed to get out of here, and fast. 
A voice sounded from outside of the room, “...oh Faea, I’ve f-forgotten my keys! Are y-you in there? I n-need you to open the d-door for me! I can’t find m-my way around these corridors. H-had too much to drink at the bar o-on the ground floor…”
Cajuea raised an eyebrow, “You’ve got the wrong room.”
“...’m s-sure it has to be s-somewhere around here. N-need h-help. C-can’t walk properly…”
At that, she opened the door, mentally preparing herself to help this unlucky soul, or more accurately, tell them in the politest way possible to stay away from her. There, in the doorway, stood a Gergrea Drake Therian, the texture and colours of her feathers rapidly changing before Cajuea’s eyes. White faded to black, forming nebulous patterns on her plumage. Cajuea ducked, not wanting to be on the receiving end of her venomous quills. She took another good look at the Drake, recalling yesterday, when she’d broken into Stacia’s apartment. 
That was when she realised she’d seen this visitor before. The erratic colour changes weren’t a result of her being drunk and disorderly. It’d been a trick. All of it. 
And Cajuea had fallen for it. As the mage was caught off-guard, Stacia used the opportunity to step into the room. 
“Stacia.” She took a step back, ready to stand her ground. “How the fuck did you find me?”
“I’m not here to answer any of your questions, Ms. Qyauk. I believe the one who has the most explaining to do here is in fact you.” Stacia’s feathers flared red and green in a threat display. 
“I won’t tell you anything. Not about myself, and not about Nik. My work here is done. There’s no reason for me to be in this city anymore, so let’s stay out of each other's way. Before either of us gets hurt.” 
“There’s something you’re not telling me. And I want to know what it is.”
“Why does it matter to you so much?” Cajuea folded her arms, still keeping her distance from Stacia.
“Because of Nik. Because of all the pain that I went through after breaking up with him. You happen to be the only other person around here who knows him, and therefore my only potential source of information regarding him. Oh, and don’t assume I’ve forgotten about what you did earlier. Think of this as your comeuppance, Ms. Qyauk. I won’t let you return to the Island until you tell me what the actual fuck is going on with Nik—”
Their conversation was brought to an abrupt halt as a loud thud echoed throughout the room.

Something had landed on the balcony. 
That much was clear to Stacia as she recovered from the shock of it. Stil, her priority was to interrogate Ms. Qyauk, so she quickly stepped in front of the other woman to prevent her from getting away. The Drake raised her quills, her body briefly flashing a vibrant shade of crimson. In those few moments, no words were exchanged between them — that was, not until the mage tried to make a break for the balcony. 
“Where do you think you’re going?” Stacia hissed. 
“Don’t interfere.” Cajuea warned. “I don’t want to hurt you, Stacia.”
“Me neither. Which is why you’re going to tell me everything. Now. We can call it a day afterwards. Like you said, I won’t interfere with what you’re doing. Unless you refuse to answer my query, of course.”
“It’s not my business to divulge sensitive details about Nik or anyone else on the Island. I had one task and one task alone in Kubikiholt, which is now over and done with. Can’t you just respect that?”
Stacia laughed — not out of any genuine humour, but at the sheer absurdity of Cajuea’s prior statement. “You do realise that asking me to respect you is pointless, don’t you? Especially now that you’re withholding important info from me, about my ex, nonetheless.”
Cajuea ignored her, proceeding to rush towards the balcony. Stacia ran after her, grabbing hold of the hem of Cajuea’s shirt before she could go any further. 
“I’ll say it one more time. Right here and right now, you’re going to tell me what Nik’s been getting up to.” the Drake continued.
Stacia finally looked out onto the balcony. Her initial assumption that something large had landed outside of the room was correct. A quadrupedal winged beast was waiting patiently for its passenger, its body bearing a mixture of feline and avian features. It had to be a gryphon, and was likely there to transport Cajuea out of Kubikiholt. 
“Let go of me.” Cajuea protested. 
“Not until you—” Stacia began. 
“I. Warned. You.” She pronounced each syllable with an air of aggression. 
Stacia’s grip loosened. For a second, Cajuea’s whole body seemed to ripple, her face elongating into a saurian shape. Feathers erupted out of her arms, forming two bird-like wings. A sickle-shaped claw formed on each of her feet, the distinguishing mark of the Gergrea Drakes’ theropod ancestors. 
A mage and a raptor Werfolk, Stacia thought. Now that’s not something you see everyday. 
Cajuea burst out of the room. Glass shattered. Bricks came loose from the walls. The floor shook. She was just about to climb up onto the gryphon when Stacia caught up to her again. If the Werfolk wasn’t careful with how she went about this, a sting from one of the Drake’s quills could still do lethal damage. 
“This is your last chance.” Cajuea said, her voice sounding unnaturally grating, at least compared to when she was in human form. 
“I could say the same to you.” Stacia said. 
“Fine. I’ll oblige your request, but only this once.” Cajuea growled, stepping away from the gryphon. “I assume you do remember me mentioning that Nik went through some considerable changes in all the time he spent away from you, no? One of those changes is the very reason why he couldn’t go to Kubikiholt himself. You see...he can’t go outside during the daylight hours. At least not since he was turned.”
“Turned?”
“No, not by us.”
Stacia considered asking exactly what Nik had been turned into, but then she put two and two together. Back at her apartment, Cajuea had mentioned that her new case would involve vampires, of all things. Could it be true? Had Nik actually...become a vampire himself? Stacia hadn’t known what to expect when starting the interrogation, but it’d never occurred to her that it would turn out to be this bizarre. 
Shaking her head in disbelief, she backed out of the balcony. The gryphon gave a triumphant screech as it flew off with Cajuea, now in her human form, on its back, leaving the Drake alone and bemused in the cold depths of the night.