Eryck rubbed at his pouched eyes, pulling the cobwebs from his head. The night had been long, filled with interviews, dictations, commissions, and myriad dots on myriad is. He was on his third shift, patrolling the peripheral quarters, the streets bulging with hungry men and women, filtering toward their favourite haunt. I hope their day is better than mine has been.

  Hendrick stepped out of the deli, his wide mouth stretched around a steak sandwich. He moaned his delight, the smell of cheese and girdled meat wafting strong on the mid-day wind. "Eryck, friend, my comrade in arms, you need to give this a try! I mean it this time!"

  "You said that last time." Eryck swept onto the street, Hendrick loping behind him. "I have no interest. That probably will not change in the immediate future."

  "Doesn't mean I can't try!" Hendrick said around a mouthful of gristle and stringy cheese. "You're gonna loosen up eventually."

  "Not today." Eryck said, firm as oak. He was rarely partnered with Hendrick, save the uncommon occasion that Frey was shuttled off by her family for one obligation or another. Two years before, after the elf joined up, she rotated shifts, taking on new partners every other week. Sometimes without incident, sometimes with a complaint, others with a row.

  When she'd finally rounded to him, the two came to an understanding. He would tolerate her occasional outburst, so long as she did no lasting harm, and she would keep to herself, let him do the talking. Perhaps they made a good pair, or perhaps he was the only one who could stand to breathe her air, but whatever the case, they were soon partnered exclusively together.

  He could not say they liked each other. He did not know where she lived, what she did when their shift was over, what kind of tea she preferred, what music she liked to strum by a campfire. But he never asked, either, nor did he volunteer anything about himself - with her or anyone.

  And yet, he still felt an abscence. A Frey-shaped gap in his mind, that he struggled to parse. Or it could just be the sleep deprivation.

  "How long have you been working, anyway?" Hendrick had finished his sandwich, belching his contentment with a pat of his stomach. "I heard you were up last night, with cleanup."

  "She was my partner," Eryck said, turning onto a particularly busy street, voices crawling over each other. He raised his own to compensate. "Felt right it should be me who... saw her settled."

  "That's good. Right good." Hendrick bobbed his head. "You're a good man, to do that. Especially for someone like... well, her."

  "I don't speak ill of the dead." Eryck sighed. "Whatever else she was, she was ours, and her loss has left us the lesser."

  "Yes, right!" Hendrick said, quickly, posture pricking up. "Of course you're right! I shouldn't talk like that."

  "No, you should not." Though he could hardly blame the man. After he had made a pass at her, she had taken his thumb and twisted it backwards, the bone jutting out at an oblique angle. The healers put it right, but even as they trudged through the milling throngs, it looked knobbly. Deformed. "But what's done is done. Best we can do is bring her killer to justice."

  "Or killers," Hendrick offered, raising a brow. "Captain says it might have been a few of them, that not just one of 'em could have overpowered her."

  "Good technique, surprise, and luck can overpower anyone." Eryck countered. "And I have my doubts. There would have been more trauma if there was a struggle with more than one other."

  "So, you think it was really this pig?"

  Eryck kept his eyes forward. "She's a person of interest." He told him, impassively. "Nothing more."

  The roads grew more dense, a glut of bodies congregating ahead.

  "Course, course," Hendrick said, bobbing their head. They stopped, waiting for the crowd to part, fiddling at their belts and straps. Eryck's ensemble was neat, his scales sterling, his belt, chains, and sword all in fine repair. Hendrick, meanwhile, had blemishes on his armour, and his belt was torn and chewed in places. His youthful face was spotted with an orange sauce, nosehairs untrimmed. He thought about telling them, but opted to do so when there were fewer people to overhear.

  Hendrick cleared his throat. "You know, er..." He began, mouth working strange shapes onto his face. "It wasn't your fault, you know? From what I heard, you weren't even there." Eryck winced, but made no comment. "No one's putting this on you."

  Eryck blinked, his face blank as he looked at the boy, dumbstruck. "Why would I think that?"

  "Well, you being up all night, working today..." The boy pointed out, gesturing aimlessly with one hand. "Feels like it might be a personal thing. Doubt captain wanted you on this shift."

  He did not. Eryck had to insist, had to argue his case, leveraging their labour shortage. Thyme had only agreed on the condition of doubling the overtime pay, to allay his conscience... not that Eryck minded, of course.

  "I'm just trying to pull my weight." He looked out into empty space. "Lot of folks injured last night. Rest of us need to step up."

  "True, true, I'm just--"

  The crowd split enough to catch sight of a small assembly of cloaked figures. One lupine in form, one feline, one human.

  One porcine.

  They clustered around a crouching form, rocking on their soles. Female. Most of them were female.

  He set his eyes on the porcine, her face scrunched with anger. It was her. The same hair, same eyes, same crude demeanour. Maybe it won't be such a bad day after all...

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  "--and I'm always here if you need me--"

  "Porcene. Ahead." He told him, pointing at the group as the stooped one lurched up, grabbed the Porcene by the wrist. The boy goggled dully. "That's our person of interest."

  The flagstones clacked as Olive bowled through the crowd, ducking under raised arms, weaving between minstrels. Bristle parted the way in front of them, giving them a path to follow, but the throng flowed back in like water. Her stumpy legs struggled to keep up, even as Sianna coiled her tail around her waist, as Luna yanked her by the arm.

  The two guards kept decent pace, kiting between shoals of bodies, crying out. "Stop! In the name of the Furies, stop damnit!" It was a younger man, sandy hair shaggy on his scalp, a sallow stain on his chin. If his fellow hadn't been so quick and sure, she would not have been nearly so worried.

  And, of course, his fellow was the guard from the night before. Her tail twitched: she doubted he would let her off with a stern word for killing his lady love. What was his name? Erlan?

  Shit, think! Think! They were gaining ground, making long strides, choosing auspicious paths through the milling masses. Her breath caught, dissolving into coughs as they made a turn. Each intake was filled with splinters, raking at her throat, ravaging her lungs. She wouldn't be able to keep up much longer...

  The tabby bag jostled under her armpit. A light shone in her mind.

  "Alley!" She croaked, unslinging the bag, a keen zip blessing her ears.

  "On it!" Bristle veered, paved a narrow line to a grimy little gap between two tenements. The wolf barely fit, having to turn his shoulders and squeeze forward, but the girls were able to pelt through without issue. It broadened into a yard, a few tables, a pile of reeking, bags, crates of glass.

  Olive pulled out the sack of caltrops, the canvas thick and mutable to keep from tearing, and inverted it as they pushed forward. The tacks scattered at the end of the alley, where it bottlenecked.

  The two guards shoved through, barreling down the alley. To her despair, peeking over a shoulder as they kited into another alley, Erlan nimbly leapt over the caltrops, landing back into a throttling sprint. The younger one, however, stepped awkwardly on one, gave a cry, and slipped.

  A crate broke his fall, his head cracking against it.

  Olive's belly gave another lurch as he went still, her heart reeling. No. No, not again...

  Just as they squeezed into the alley, and he disappeared from view, she saw him roll over, his face split with discomfort.

  She let go of a breath she was holding, then snorted. Got you, dumbass! She couldn't savour the delight for long, as Erlan steamed unbent, not even sparing a glimpse over his shoulder to check over his fellow's wellbeing.

  Cold, but I respect it!

  "Any other ideas?" Ylsa asked as they broke onto the main road, again, the crowd thick and warm around them. It halted their pace, coiling them like a snake, capturing prey. Erlan was behind them, ten strides down the alley. Nine. Eight...

  "One." Bristle's tail was up. "They're nearby."

  Seven..

  "Nearby what?" Sianna asked, between gasps, pushing through a welter of merchants, pinched faces and luscious garments.

  Five.

  Bristle howled.

  A dozen howls answered.

  Wolven bodies, of various coats and shapes, began to rush out of doors, through alcoves. Bristle howled again, and they began to converge, swelling the crowd, creating a press.

  Olive was crushed between bodies, Sianna's tail in her face, her tail against Luna's thighs.

  "I don't like this idea!" She heaved, air thinning as her snout dug into Sianna's petticoats. If it were any other context, she might have been glad to keep it there. Of course this would be how I die.

  The squeeze abated, as the wolves made a path. Bristle streamed through, them Ylsa, then the rest.

  "We will keep him busy," she heard a woman whisper as they passed. "But we will not be able to keep him long."

  "Head start is all we need!" Bristle grinned as they broke through the other side.

  "I think I know a way," Ylsa said, rushing ahead to take the lead. "Hurry! It's not far!"

  She lead them down a narrow road that wound upward, sloping past stumpy buildings, most mouldered, falling apart. With some leeway won, Olive slowed her pace, guzzling breath through her mouth as they jogged uphill. She looked back, over the tapering crowds, saw Erlan skirt between groupings, slowly, meticulously.

  "This one doesn't fucking give up!" She gasped, as Ylsa turned down a wynd, towed them with her...

  ...and they came upon a tall, brick fence at the back of an abandoned hostel. Dozens of boxes, sacks, and bits of detritus littered the space, filled with corroded cans, rotten burlap.

  Insects. Olive gagged, looking into a large box, finding dozens of crawling worms, ants, centipedes, crawling about an old shirt.

  The others didn't stop. Bristle kicked off a jutting brick, then swung over. Sianna girdled her petticoats and lithely crawled up behind. Ylsa, for her part, had simply disappeared.

  Which left Olive and Luna by themselves, with clattering footfalls racing up behind them.

  "G-guys?!" Olive called, half-shout, half-whisper. "We're still--"

  The clatters grew louder.

  "Here!" Luna tapped her by the shoulder, then hurried to the box, stepping inside. "We can both fit!"

  Olive felt bile in her throat, her mouth. She saw something crawl over Luna's shoe, felt her belly turn over.

  "No way am I--"

  The clattering closed in. She jumped into the box, nestling in with Luna, and closed the flap over them, holding it there.

  They were close, noses inches apart, their breath mingling as they huddled together. The footsteps were on them, now, slowing as Erlan saw the wall, began to think.

  Olive felt something on her face. Her eyes broadened, heart leaping in her chest, a yelp at the back of her throat, ready to loose.

  Luna set one hand on her mouth, clamped firm, and another on her shoulder. A thin line of light fell over one side of her face, her eyes gleaming like a lighthouse at night. She shook her head, slowly, then lifted her hand from her shoulder, brought it to her cheek, and tweezed something off, flicking it away.

  Olive sighed relief through her snout, nodded a quiet thanks. Luna smiled back, nodded acknowledgement.

  The footsteps continued, pacing a moment, then receded back down the wynd. When Olive could barely hear them, she stood up, squealed, shook her body and kicked her hooves.

  Then lost her balance, tipping out of the box and onto her hip. A bolt of agony ran up her spine.

  "Well played," Ylsa said, standing above her, craning her head to meet her eye. "He probably assumed everyone jumped the wall."

  "Ow..." Olive whimpered, rolling onto her back, pinching her tail under her.

  "Don't be like that!" Ylsa scoffed, reaching out to lift her up. "Pain is weakness leaving the body!"

  Olive grimaced, taking her hand. "Pain is the body being a little bitch!"

  "Then tell it to toughen up. We need to hurry." Ylsa helped her to her feet, and Luna helped her balance. "Have to get back to the magic shop, that's where the others will be."

  Olive felt a twinge, tasted something sour. She cast about, for Bristle, for Sianna. The absence of her tail, at her waist, galled her. "They... left us?"

  Ylsa shrugged. "They probably assumed I'd take care of you, or we'd follow."

  Olive's mood blackened. No, they knew I wouldn't be able to climb that. They didn't know if Ylsa could help us both. Her nose spasmed, hands balling as she remembered the fluttering in her chest, their talk. Again. Of course I did it again! When am I gonna fucking learn?!

  "Either way, we need to get there soon, before someone shows up there with questions," Ylsa said, with an exhausted sigh.

  Olive quirked a brow. "Why would anyone show up?"

  Eryck crouched down, inspected a tack between his fingers. The suspects had slipped away, leapt over a wall and evaporated like dew, but not without a trace.

  "I'm fine, by the way!" Hendrick grumbled, rubbing at his tender head. "Ack, did we even know that was the pig?" He grumbled, planting his hind on a crate.

  "We do," Eryck said, looking closely at the spikes. In one, etched with care, was the tiny image of a tabby cat wearing a top hat. He allowed a rare, genuine grin. "And we have a lead."