I managed to break the late chief's office door open with minimal damage. Mostly. Kind of. The doorframe had definitely always been shattered. Yup.

Once we were inside, I saw that the chief's office wasn't particularly large, and there wasn't much in it: a desk in the center, a bookcase in the back lined with an assortment of old books and filled with stacks of paperwork, and a large chest to the side.

Tristan walked past me and toward the desk. "I'll start with the books. You get the chest." She reached out to something on the desk. The object, a large glowstone carved to look like a woman wearing revealing robes, began to glow with a soft purple light.

"Sounds good." I walked over to the chest. Opening it, I saw that it was filled with a thick traveler's cloak... and shoes. Lots of shoes. So many shoes. There had to be at least thirty in the chest. What guy had this many shoes?

The more I looked at them, the more curious I got. How many were there? Reaching in, I pulled them out one by one and tossed them onto the floor behind me. When I had a decent pile going, I felt eyes on me. Looking up, I saw that Tristan was glaring at me. "What?"

"Why are you doing that? Have some respect." Her tone made me feel guilty.

I shrugged. "What? I have to take them out in case there's a false bottom in the chest."

The ring tightened on my finger. What the shit, ring? You work on me when I'm wearing you, too?

"Bullshit. You're going to end up cursed if you keep that up."

"I thought you trusted me?"

"I do, but you're a terrible liar."

"Pfft." I looked back at the chest. There were maybe ten left...

"Don't do it."

"I'm gonna."

She sighed.

A minute later, all the shoes were out of the chest. I'd counted seventy-two. Each was a different shape and style, with some being designed for rugged use and others being more ornamental. All were the same size, though, so I didn't get the impression that they were from many people.

Reaching into the wooden box, I felt around for any latches or catches that might hint at a hidden bottom, but there were none. All I found was a bit of mud.

"What's the verdict?"

"Seventy-two shoes, no false bottom."

She shook her head. "What a dandy." Her face turned beet red. "Not that I'm speaking ill of the dead or anything... Goddess preserve you..." She held up a piece of paper. Her eyes scanned the bottom of the page. "... Uralt, the Chief of Goodfield."

The ring got tighter. "Who's sacriligious now?"

She glared at me again. "Get over here and take a look at the desk."

I chuckled and made my way to the desk. Walking around to the front, I saw that there were three drawers on the left side. Opening the top drawer, I found a few quills, several vials of ink, and some nice paper that could easily have been sold in stores back on Earth. Rifling through them, I found I whole lot of nothing.

Shutting that drawer, I opened the next. Unlike the first, this one was more interesting. There was a small bundle of crumpled letters, each of which had a broken seal of melted wax. Pulling the bundle out, I smoothed each letter out on the edge of the desk. There were three total. "Got something."

Tristan nodded beside me. "Good. There's not much back here. Check the last drawer, then we'll read those letters."

Shutting the middle drawer, I opened the lower one. Within was what looked like the head of a mace. There were broad flanges covering the head, and each flange was carved with intricate patterns. "Got something down here, too."

"Pull it out. We'll take a look at it."

I did as she said, but I found something under the mace head. There was a long, thin dagger, and under the dagger was a stained envelope that had never been sealed. Pulling both out, I noticed something heavy rattling inside the envelope. Opening it, I emptied its contents onto the desk. What I saw took my breath away.

"What'd you find?" Tristan's voice sounded from behind me.

In front of us lay what looked like a dozen finger bones. "Uh..."

"What?" She laid down some papers she was looking at back on the bookshelf and walked over to me. When she got close, I saw her body get tense. "Are those what I think they are?"

I nodded. "I'm at least sixty percent confident they are."

Her face grew three shades whiter. "They were in the drawer?"

"Yeah. Under that." I pointed at the mace head.

She grabbed the object and held it up to the light. Then, she murmured to herself. "Wow."

To me, it looked fairly simple. Nothing fancy aside from the writing. But Tristan was holding it gingerly. Almost reverently. "Is it something special?"

She nodded. "I'm not a mage, merchant, or artisan, but I'm confident it's enchanted. Strongly so. I can feel it." She set it down on the desk. Picking up the dagger, she spun it around, but that weapon didn't elicit much of a response from her.

"Anything?"

"Not really. But pull out that map. I bet it'll work with this." She set the dagger down and picked the mace head back up.

Pulling off my pack, I retrieved the map and unrolled it onto the desk. Taking the mace from Tristan, I placed it on the map and waited.

Nothing appeared.

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"Guess not." She grabbed one of the letters and put it on the map. Still nothing.

"Huh."

She did the same with the other letters. The second letter didn't do anything, but when she placed the third letter on the map, a faint line appeared far to the northeast, at the very edge of the map. It circled through a town called Galden.

If I remembered right, there was a mine-turned-dungeon under the town. Oh, and the Temple bought good potions from an alchemist who lived there, too. I pointed at the line. "You see that?"

She slowly nodded. "I didn't see it until you pointed it out, but yeah. It's barely on the map..." She studied the line. "I guess that means whoever wrote this letter lives in Galden. Or at least they passed through." She placed the letters on the desk. "We should read them, but first..." She looked at the finger bones, and her face turned ghostly white. "I'm not doing it."

I didn't follow her line of thinking. "What?"

"We need to check them."

Oh. Oh. Yeah, no. "You sure you don't want to do the honors? It was your idea after all."

She shook her head. "I couldn't possibly. I'm a girl."

"Are you really trying to play that card?"

Her face scrunched up. "You're born under the Shield! That means you're supposed to protect me."

Ugh... "Fine." I pushed the grossness of what I was about to do out of my mind and grabbed the nearest finger bone. It felt wet. Pushing down my nausea, I placed the bone on the map and waited. A thick, twining line appeared around Fairbrook, the tiny village south of Goodfield. One of the lines stopped just north of the village. "Okay, yeah. This was a good idea."

I looked at the little dagger I'd placed on the desk. Unsheathing it, I could see that the blade hadn't been properly cleaned. It looked like he'd merely wiped it with a cloth and sheathed again. Putting the blade back into its sheath, I placed it on the map. A dozen lines appeared. Stretched from Goodfield to the same spot.

"I think that means..." Tristan didn't finish her sentence.

"Yeah." I grabbed the next fingerbone. It was equally wet, and this one's marrow was half showing. Placing it on the map, I watched as it created a similar pattern. Its final line ended south of Fairbrook. The knife had a line that went there, too."

"Do the others."

One by one, I put the fingerbones on the map, and one by one, they revealed the owners died somewhere around Fairbrook. "I guess we know why Ro found Fairbrook empty."

Tristan visibly shivered. "That's horrifying."

I thought back to our time there. Fairbrook had been tiny, with only a few houses set along a small river. The people had been pleasant, but there was little to see. We'd only been there a few hours before moving on to Goodfield. "We met the chief the day we arrived in Goodfield, right?"

Tristan shook her head. "No. He was missing, remember?"

That was right. "So, when we arrived here..."

"He was on his way to Fairbrook. But why?"

We both looked at the letters. Picking one up, I tried to read it, but the script didn't look anything like the language I'd been learning for the past year and a half. "What the hell?"

She looked at it closely. "Huh. Let me see it." I gave her the letter.

She scanned the page, then started reading aloud. "Uralt, our supplier has created another batch. You know the spot. Several subjects will be waiting for you there. We look forward to the results. B."

"That's it?"

"Yeah." She picked up the next letter. Looking over her shoulder, I saw that it was written in the same script. "Uralt, we are displeased with your progress. Do not make the mistake of thinking you are indispensable to us. While the Mask grants you qualities that are useful to us, you can be replaced. If you do not produce results soon, I will send D to rectify your mistakes. You will find her far less agreeable than I. Do not hesitate. Remember, no one will miss a poor farmer's daughter. In death, she will achieve far more than she ever could have in life. The new age approaches. B."

I didn't know what the hell any of this was about. "Any ideas?"

She shook her head. "No clue."

I sighed. "Let's read the other one."

She picked up the last letter, the one that was still on the map. "Uralt, your previous test was excellent. Move to the next phase. You will find the newest supply in the spot, along with a new batch of subjects. Note that this batch is the highest quality yet crafted. Also, Copperhill was an excellent choice for hiding the sacrifices, but it would be far better to utilize them. The mace we provided will allow you to direct them. As with all dark arts, a sympathetic link will be needed. I will leave it to you to choose how to do so. And do not feel sorrow. Though regrettable, the loss of a village is nothing in the face of our future. Their sacrifices, their pain, all of it will bring us closer to achieving our vision. Suffering is nothing compared to the eternity of glory ahead of us. Stand tall, for soon, we will call you brother. B." She put the letter down.

I shook my head. "I don't really follow much, but I do know he killed those villagers and stole their fingers. Except, Jorn got attacked by them somehow? What the hell is going on?"

"From what that last letter said, he was responsible for the attacks lately and the undead in Copperhill. It sounds like he controlled them with this." She looked at the mace and frowned. "But why was the boy snatched up? How did he fit into all of this?"

I shook my head. "Could that have been coincidental? None of this refers to monsters or gloomfangs at all."

"I just don't know." She touched the mace. "But I do know that, if I could figure out how this works, I could help our friends in the mines."

"When we have the time, you should try to see if you can use it."

She nodded. "Yeah. I will."

Thinking, I asked, "How can you read those letters?"

For a moment, she hesitated. "It's in Noleian. I can read it."

I remembered Arden telling me about some bad blood between the Empire and the Eight Kingdoms. Also, Na-Ya got mad when I pointed out her ears. But, knowing that Tristan was sensitive about this subject, I dropped it. "Let's see if we can find anything else that can show us further back in time." I pulled the top drawer out and withdrew a quill. Placing it on the map, I saw only a faint line appear.

Tristan began picking up random items and placing them on the map. Some created the same lines we'd seen after putting the ring on it, but most items barely showed anything. "Nothing's working."

"Well, shit." I stood back and crossed my arms. What the hell were we going to do?

"Think outside the box. There has to be something he loved."

Looking around the room, I tried to find anything. That's when my eyes settled on the shoes. "No way." Walking around the desk, I looked down at the pile I'd made. Kneeling, I started sorting through them, looking for the most well-used pair he had. In the middle of the pile, I found a pair of leather traveling boots that looked like they'd seen a thousand miles of road. Holding them up to Tristan, I smirked. "Check this out." I brought the boots to the desk.

Placing them on the map, my mouth dropped open. Dozens of lines sprouted from the chief's house. The lines branched out into the surrounding areas and stretched as far as the map itself. Most lines we'd seen when we'd put the other objects on the map, but there was one spot to the northeast that he'd traveled to a half-dozen times. There wasn't anything significant out that way from what I could see on the map. Pointing at it, I said, "You think that's where this spot is?"

Tristan frowned. "I think you might be right. I guess we should start there tomorrow, huh?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Let's keep these shoes with us and put everything else back how we found it." We quickly put everything away, but I made sure to tuck the mace head, the fingerbones, and the dagger into my pack, along with the letters. I wasn't sure if it would be good evidence of what he'd done, but it wouldn't hurt to hold onto them.

Once everything was back the way we found it, we nodded to one another, but when I went to leave, Tristan held up her hand. "We're forgetting something."

Turning, I saw the map and shoes on the desk. "Oops." I chuckled and walked back to the desk. Just as I went to pack the shoes away, something stood out to me. One of the lines... it was moving. "Hey Tristan."

"Yeah?"

"Did any of the lines move before?"

"No? How could they? He's dead." She walked back over to the desk. When she looked down at the map, her face went white. "What the... It's coming this way."

One of the lines was approaching from the west side of the village... from Grath's house. Where Jorn and the other Templars had been staying. The line would arrive in five minutes, maybe less.

"We gotta go."Throwing the map and Uralt's shoes into my pack, and she touched the glowstone lamp, which began to dim. I buttoned my bag, and we rushed for the door.

A moment later, we were outside in the cool night air. The moon was above, and the stars were bright. However, something was off... all the lights in the houses around the square, except for Greta's, had gone dark.

"What's going on?" Tristan whispered.

"I don't know." I unslung my shield and drew my sword. "But I'm quite certain we're not going to like it."

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