Alden and Imogen flew towards the merchant’s district. Carmen lived there with her parents in a modest two-story house on Scale Street. Alden didn’t expect to find Carmen home, but he hoped her parents might have an idea where she’d go if she was in trouble. Below them the wealthier section of the city hadn’t fared all that much better than the working class districts. Everywhere he looked buildings lay in shambles. No fires burned at least. Alden’s throat still felt raw from the smoke he’d breathed in. One thing about nature, she didn’t care how much gold you had.

“What do you think of the archmage’s new favorite?” Imogen asked.

“Damien? Seems like a nice kid. Works hard, doesn’t complain.” Alden shook his head. “He also scares the hell out of me. Some of the stuff he’s done in only a year doesn’t seem quite human.”

“Do you think she puts too much faith in the boy?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her?”

Imogen’s lips quirked in what passed for a smile. “I think not. I’ve become quite comfortable in my position with the legion and have no desire to leave.”

“Good call. Besides, as far as I know Damien’s never failed on a mission. When you think what they’ve asked the kid to do, that’s remarkable.”

“It certainly is. I believe that’s the Warren house down there.”

They landed and in the light of a conjured globe Alden compared the number on the post outside to the number on his scroll. “Yeah, this is it.”

No light burned in the windows. The curtains were open, but nothing moved inside. The house seemed pretty intact beyond some smashed windows. They’d gotten off luckier than some.

“You want to scout it or just head in?” Alden asked.

“These are just normal people, certainly no threat to us.” Imogen strode down the path, up to the door, and knocked. “This is the Crimson Legion! Open up in the king’s name!”

Alden joined her beside the silent house. “I thought you were against shouting?”

“There’s a time and place for everything. I sense no soul force inside, do you?”

Alden cocked his head and focused. He’d never been the best when it came to detecting others. He shook his head. “Nothing. What do you say we go in and have a look?”

“My plan exactly.” Imogen conjured a blob of energy and pushed it into the keyhole. The blob shifted into a key and popped the lock.

Alden sent a handful of lights in ahead of them. The foyer held nothing but an empty bench. They continued on into the kitchen. Alden opened a cupboard and found it empty. No dishes, no food, no sign anyone lived here.

“Are you certain this is the correct place?” Imogen asked.

“It’s the right address, but if a family of three lives here they’re the neatest family in history and they eat out a lot.”

The living room couch had a thick layer of dust matched by the one on the empty bookcase. The hearth was clean and free of ashes. Alden shook his head. No one had lived here in a while.

The second floor had three small, empty, dust-filled rooms. The only sign of life was a line of mouse tracks in one of the rooms. When they’d searched the house from top to bottom they returned to the foyer.

“This was a waste of time,” Imogen said.

“No, it wasn’t. We know Carmen lied about living here which makes her an even bigger suspect. Let’s see what the neighbors have to say.”

Alden walked to the next house over, a two-story building identical to the one they’d just searched. Light spilled out from drawn curtains that blocked the broken windows. A trickle of smoke rose from the chimney. He rapped on the door and a moment after Imogen joined him it opened.

A middle-aged man with a great belly and no hair squinted at them in the glare of their conjured lights. He looked first at Imogen. The men, and Alden reluctantly admitted, most of the women, always looked at her first. The man’s gaze shifted to Alden. “Can I help you?”

“We’re with the Crimson Legion, sir. What can you tell us about the house next door?” Alden pointed at the abandoned house so the homeowner would know which one he meant.

“Oh, the old Warren place. It’s been empty since the first part of winter. Old lady Warren died and no one’s been around since. Shame really. It’s a nice house.”

“Did Mrs. Warren have any family?”

“There was a young woman that used to come around maybe six months ago. Don’t know if she was kin or not and I haven’t seen her since the old lady died.”

Alden dug out the scroll. “About five foot six, slim, long brown hair, mid-twenties?”

“That sounds about right. I never talked to the woman myself. My wife caught me looking once and I ate nothing but beans for a week.” He offered a what-can-you-do shrug.

“Did you ever see the young woman with anyone else?”

“No.” The man pointed back up the street toward the castle. “She always came from that way and left that way.”

Imogen turned and walked away. The bald man’s gaze locked on her ass and a smile crept across his face.

Alden shook his head. “If Imogen catches you staring at her you’ll have bigger problems than beans for dinner.”

“Not very friendly, is she?”

“No, not very.”

“Great ass though.”

Alden stole a glimpse. “I can’t argue with you there.”

“You know, that reminds me. There was another person that came to visit the Warren place.”

“Oh?”

“A redheaded sorcerer. She had a nice ass too. Not as nice as your friend, but not bad. That was just a week before old lady Warren died.”

Alden’s stomach twisted. “How do you know she was a sorcerer?”

“When she left the house she flew away. Damnedest thing was, she was barefoot. There had to be a foot of snow.”

“Thank you, sir. You’ve been a big help.” Alden rushed to catch up to Imogen. “The redhead from Port Valcane was here a week before Mrs. Warren died.”

“Are you certain it’s the same woman?”

“How many redheaded sorcerers are there that like to go barefoot? It must be her.”

“If a known agent of Connor Blackman came visiting then Carmen must be our spy.”