Bitter Cold Truth: A Tale of the Everburning City

(3-1) By sweat and toil and lives consumed

After three hours of reading reports and searching through Oversight's surprisingly thorough records, Samuel was eager to get his legs into motion again.

It felt too much like paperwork to Samuel. Like the precinct Captainship in the Blackened Stone District he had turned down twice.

So Samuel set the three of them off at a brisk pace, devouring street blocks quickly as they mad their way to their next destination.

"So inspectors, where are we going?" Bertram asked them, as he stalked in their wake.

Samuel grinned at Angela, who openly scoffed and shook her head. "It's like dealing with someone fresh out of the academy."

"Hey, be gentle. That was you just eighteen months ago," Samuel reminded her, without any bite in his reprimand.

He glanced back at Bertram, and the jovial humour he felt evaporated. The man's eyes had vanished behind the shadows of the building, his steps were light and smooth, and he moved with nearly unnatural grace.

"And only one of us is authorized to carry weapons in public spaces," Samuel added to Angela.

"My question still hangs in the air, inspectors," Bertram reminded them quietly.

Samuel nodded, impressed. "Our quarry is a high-central brat, which means he has formidable family connections. However, being a reject also means he isn't welcome in that rarified company. So most of his associations and friendships will likely be at his place of employment, or whatever watering hole he frequents. All of which we can learn at his work."

"Wait, how do you know where he works?" Bertram asked.

Angela laughed. "An easy bit of deduction. A young man with good family connections can get himself into some fairly comfortable work. And stay there long after a foreman might have normally tossed them out. Now, for a reject, where is that kind of job?"

Impressing Samuel, Bertram answered immediately. "Ceramic pipe fabrication, at the Red Crucible. That job doesn't require any substantial crafting, but the kilns are so hot nearly everyone who works them are rejects."

"Would you look at that," Angela said. "We have a budding detective hiding in all that black. If we put in a good word, we could even get you a career change."

"Are you sure the two of you wouldn't like a Bureau job? Agrias might even pitch you an offer if we get this wrapped up quickly," Bertram countered.

"Your Bureau could never match the perks I get as an inspector. My current apartment is so big, there's one corner where I can fall over without hitting a wall," Samuel replied.

"And it only took three weeks to get that hole in my shoe sole patched," Angela agreed.

"My coat doesn't have enough burn holes in it to qualify me for a new one," Bertram added.

"And we all know where this is going," Angela said wryly.

"I should have written the entrance exams for Distribution," Samuel and Bertram said at almost precisely the same time.

Samuel lead them for the next few minutes in a comfortable silence, and found himself relieved the killer assigned to them by the Bureau of Oversight was an actual human being.

Eventually, they made their way to a wide clearing, where several sets of tracks stretched past, terminating inside the massive building ahead.

It was less a building, and more of a shell meant to contain some monstrous creature of fire. Nine storeys high, fire poured through every one of the dozens of windows along the front side of the building. Four massive archways were set against the building, as the tracks passed inside each arch. The entrances for the trains glowed with a menacing orange haze that seemed to shift subtly in luminosity in a slow, rhythmic manner.