The next day a man visited the house. He waited in the entrance room for Sor Al.

“I wonder what this is about,” said John’s senior apprentice sister, Sariel. “Elves don’t normally call on someone in person.” Elves were not a very social race, from what John had seen so far.

“It must be something very important.” Relar was excited. They got so excited over visitors.

“Why don’t we go eavesdrop?” John suggested. He was curious too.

“No,” Sariel gasped, “we could never. The teacher is an honest person. We, as her students, must follow her example.” Sariel seemed to be a stickler for rules and etiquette. John thought that the two of them would probably not get along very well.

“Come on Sariel,” Relar expressed each word with great emotion. “This mystery is killing me.”

“Go if you wish,” Sariel said firmly, “but I’m not coming.” Maybe she wasn’t so bad.

“Very well,” said Relar, and looked at John. “My partner in crime. Let’s go.” Partner in crime? That sounded ominous. Was what they were doing such a taboo?

They crept under a curtained window outside the entrance room, opened it slowly and listened intently.

“Are you sure Il Vara is dead?” Sor Al asked the visitor.

Relar’s face grew pale and he began to stammer under his breath. “Il...Il… Il Vara’s dead?”

“We are sure. There were thirty stab wounds all over her body. Someone vicious did this. Realm mistress, as the person with highest authority in Kumra, we ask you to investigate the murder.”

“And who will be judge, jury, executioner if we find him or her?”

“The people of Kumra will vote.”

“That is not a good system,” said Sor Al. “We shall send the murderer to Eral where he will be judged by the Council of Thirteen.”

“Very well,” said the man. “We are all counting on you, realm mistress.”

Relar and John heard the elf leave, and quickly headed back to the courtyard.

“Il Vara is dead,” Relar said lifelessly.

“What?” screamed Sariel, and then immediately put a hand to her mouth.

Il Vara had said to John yesterday that there was no need for law in Kumra. John felt the manner of her death was a little ironic.

“Il Vara is dead,” Relar said again, some color coming back to his face. His hands turned to fists and a cruel look entered his eyes. “If I find out who did it...”

They heard Sor Al clear her throat from behind them. Relar immediately stopped speaking.

Sor Al said, “When you find out who did it, you will capture that person. Don’t do anything excessive. I’m putting you in charge of the investigation, Relar. Jehun shall be your assistant. Every elf in the city will cooperate with you.”

“Teacher, are you sure you want me…” Relar gulped, “you know how I felt about her.”

Sor Al’s face was stern. “Don’t let your emotions sway your reason. A realm master must ever be mindful of his emotions.”

“Yes teacher,” Relar bowed his head.

Relar wanted to start the investigation immediately but Sor Al insisted they have breakfast first. John ate a hearty meal but Relar and Sariel couldn’t eat a morsel. John wasn’t heartless. He felt bad about Il Vara’s death, but he wouldn’t let it derail him. Eating was as important as breathing, and neither one should be rushed.

“What was Il Vara to you?” John asked Relar. The elf was so emotionally devastated. Was it John’s imagination or were Relar’s drooping slightly.

Relar groaned and didn’t say anything. Was the question too insensitive? Had he chosen the wrong time to ask?

“He was in love with her,” Sariel whispered. “Unrequited.” She closed her mouth as though she had said something she shouldn’t have.

“It’s all because of that cult,” anger glittered in Relar’s eyes. “I tried to drag her away from it over and over again. If only I’d tried harder.”

“It isn’t your fault,” Sor Al comforted him. “Remember to let go of your emotions. Let the anger wash over you and then watch it leave with the exhalation of your breath. Jehun, this investigation is a test for both of you. Look after Relar well.”

“Why are you asking me to investigate?” asked Relar. “I’m in no state...”

“Would you rather mope around the house?” asked Sor Al. “Go now. Fulfill your duty.” Sor Al was a tough teacher. Too tough!

Il Vara’s body was in a park near the temple of Inashta. Relar and John had to shove their way through a crowd to get to her.

“It’s Relar and Wild Child,” John could hear people murmur.

“How’s Relar look? Is he holding up well?” The people of Kumra were all very gentle and kind, except for the murderer of course.

John ignored the murmurs of the crowd and gazed at the cold corpse. Il Vara looked the same as she had when John first met her. He’d expected to see a bloody mess. Relar took a deep breath and then examined her wounds. “These weren’t made by an aura blade,” said Relar. “If they were we could have tracked the aura signature.”

“It was probably a dagger of some kind,” said John.

“A chu dagger,” said Relar. “Look at how the stab wounds have been cauterized. Many elves keep them as antiques. Look at the wound on her chest. There’s blood. Her heart was probably pierced, which was what killed her. He killed her first then continued stabbing her for some reason,” Relar’s hands trembled as he examined the corpse further. “Let’s go to the temple and find out why she was here last night.”

Relar turned to one of the elves in the crowd, “the body can be moved now. See that she is treated well, Alsavmen.” Relar shook his head. “It,” he murmured. His face twisted. Was he going to start crying?

The elf nodded and immediately ordered the androids standing outside the crowd to begin moving the body. Relar left, not wanting to see her corpse for a moment longer.

Relar and John landed the speeder at the temple’s entrance. John could hear the sound of wails. The priestesses were mourning their dead chief. It sounded like a fire siren from this distance. They entered the temple. John felt as though something was watching him, something otherworldly and so powerful that it gave him goosebumps. He looked around but could find nothing. Was he feeling on edge because of the corpse?

“Narel,” Relar called out to one of the priestesses. “Come here. I have some questions.”

“Anything to help,” the priestess wiped her eyes, her white ceremonial garb soiled by tears.

“When did Il Vara leave the temple last night?”

“We don’t know. She often disappears from the temple for a few hours a day. She said she liked to wander around.” Yeah, wondering around and abusing children’s cheeks. No, he mustn’t think ill of the dead. She was just a little too friendly. That’s all.

“Could she have been meeting someone?” Relar asked.

“Perhaps, but if she was we don’t know who it is.”

John suddenly thought of a question. The holographic camouflage bracelet was missing from Il Vara’s body. Had it been stolen or had she not worn it that night? “Why does she wear camouflage when she goes out?” he asked.

“The priestesses of Inashta have a bad reputation among some people,” she said. “Il Vara preferred to avoid anything ugly.”

“Why didn’t she wear it last night?”

“She must have worn her bracelet. It never left her wrist.”

“Wait a minute,” Relar turned to John. “How do you know about her bracelet?”

“I met her yesterday, near our house.”

“Near our house,” Relar murmured. He turned back to the priestess, “were there any people very vocal about their opposition to your cult?”

“You mean other than you? There are plenty of people who despise us and make it known.”

“Give us the names of those who were the most fierce.”

“All right,” said the priestess, her eyes turning green as she prepared a list using her chip. “I’ll send it to you now.”

“It’s evening now,” John said to Relar. “Let’s call it a day. We need some rest.”

John was prepared for him to put up some opposition but Relar just said, “Okay.”

John slept fitfully that night, disturbed by dreams. When he woke he remembered only one thing about them, that they all involved a crazy fanatic repeating something like a mantra.

“The Sleeping Goddess will soon awaken.”