"There's really no need to prepare any special gifts."
Watching the ladies' expectant faces, Jenkins said slowly before turning his attention back to the newspaper. The classifieds were filled with new ads to buy expensive tulip bulbs and blooming flowers, and auction houses had even announced upcoming tulip sales. The plan was proceeding smoothly.
"I'll take care of the party preparations," he declared. "A lavish nu, elegant decorations—I know how to handle it all."
In truth, he didn't have the first clue. Jenkins had never attended a single birthday party in this world, so he naturally had no idea how to host one at ho. But he could always ask Bishop Parrold to arrange everything and have it delivered. While the Church's Scribes were swamped with work, the ordinary clergyn who had flocked here from all over the world had plenty of ti on their hands.
"Then it's a date," Hathaway confird. "We'll celebrate your birthday at your house tomorrow evening. Jenkins, I trust you won't be late?"
"No, I definitely won't be."
He assured Hathaway, then lowered his voice to ask:
"So, could you give a hint about the gifts? I'm terribly curious."
"You'll just have to wait for the party tomorrow."
Hathaway replied with a smile, placing a small dish ant for Chocolate in front of the cat.
Stepping out of his ho, Jenkins plunged into the thin morning mist. Sumrs in Nolan were naturally foggy, so even without the smog, the city was perpetually shrouded in a hazy white at this hour.
After Audrey's divination had failed the day before, Jenkins could have simply entrusted the investigation into the heirs' deaths to the Church. Given their efficiency, they could have pursued other avenues even without the aid of foresight and likely would have had answers for him within half a week.
But Jenkins couldn't afford to wait that long. These days, every strange occurrence seed connected to the great cataclysm at the end of the epoch. It was better to investigate himself; if he made any headway, he could have the culprit hiding in Nolan's mists apprehended within a day.
His first stop was, once again, the morgue at KalFax Field. The bodies had not yet been transported out of the city. Since this was a private investigation, there was no need to announce his arrival. Jenkins opted to don his black robe and slip in unnoticed. Fortunately, it was a Saturday, and the morgue's attendant was a bit lax, still lost in a morning doze, oblivious to the intruder.
There were no Enchanters stationed at the police headquarters, and the Church's liaisons rarely ventured into the morgue, so Jenkins reached the seven corpses without any trouble.
The morgue door couldn't be locked from the inside, so Jenkins placed a silencing charm on the floor before pulling out the bodies. He tried to perform a necromantic ritual on each one with his Skull Sword, but, as expected, every attempt failed.
"They prepared counterasures for divination, so of course they'd have sothing to block necromancy,"
Jenkins mused, telling his cat to stay in a corner to keep its fur clean. He then donned a white coat, gloves, and a mask before thodically collecting samples of hair, teeth, and flesh from each of the seven corpses.
He placed the grueso samples into a bag, whispered an apology to the corpses, and slid them back into their drawers. Leaving KalFax Field the sa way he entered, Jenkins, still in his disguise, made his way to the public cetery on the outskirts of the city.
Nolan's fog zone was now expanding both inward and outward. The public cetery, situated at the city's edge, remained shrouded in mist even around nine in the morning.
This, however, worked to Jenkins's advantage. He hopped the fence into the cetery, sidestepped the Enchanter who served as its groundskeeper, and carefully made his way toward the undead tree he had destroyed on the night of the dragon ga.
Perhaps stimulated by Jenkins's life force that night, the once-small sapling had shot up by at least a full head's height in just half a month. Its lush, verdant appearance was a stark contrast to the frightening, withered tree he rembered.
While no one was paying attention, Jenkins quickly laid out the pieces of flesh, hair, and teeth, preparing to use the tree as the foundation for a ritual. But before he could finish, he sensed soone approaching.
His eyes narrowed. Through his monocle, his right eye pierced the dense fog and spotted none other than Magic Miss. He hesitated for a mont, then put the monocle away and had his cat, which was squatting nearby watching the spectacle, turn its fur white. Only then did he resu his preparations.
"Mr. Candle?"
Sure enough, the elegant woman erging from the gray mist along a small cetery path imdiately recognized "Mr. Candle" by the cat at his side.
"Oh, good morning, Magic Miss."
Jenkins greeted her without pausing his work. He had already arranged the seven biological samples from the different corpses in a circle at equal intervals around the tree. Now, kneeling on one knee, he began carving sigils into the earth with a silver dagger.
"What are you doing? Oh, this looks sowhat familiar."
The woman murmured as she approached his side. When he didn't object, she bent over to examine the sigils, taking a mont to explain her presence:
"I discovered a rather nice undead sapling here last month, but it suddenly vanished for so reason. I thought if it could disappear, it might just as well reappear, so I ca by to check since I had so free ti today. It seems the tree is well and truly gone... Is this rune for 'revenge'? In Rhaetic? I'm surprised you know such a script."
She studied the etched runes intently. After he gave her an affirmative nod, she continued:
"Mr. Candle, since we've happened to cross paths, there's sothing I've been aning to ask you. Have your people been collaborating with the followers of the God of Music, asking them to rally more of the orthodox churches to your cause? We were recently contacted by soone claiming the Believers of Lies had promised that pseudo-god factions like ours would be granted the right to walk freely upon the earth for the next millennium. I'm concerned those foolish won have been duped by so other charlatans, so I wanted to ask you directly."
"We're not charlatans... well, I an, we are, it's just that we are the charlatans in question... you understand. The offer is real. You've probably heard that we intend to negotiate with the Orthodox Churches soon, and we'll need all the supporters we can get."
Jenkins remarked, turning his head, before adding a word of caution:
"Of course, the followers of the Lady of Mysteries and Rituals are welco to remain neutral. It's perfectly fine; we wouldn't hold it against you."
"In an age like this, who can truly afford to remain neutral?"
Magic Miss lanted, straightening up to look at Jenkins's cat. She recalled her last encounter with Williams but knew better than to bring it up. Instead, she changed the subject:
"As for whether to support you, that is sothing we must consider. Our order is loosely organized; we typically gather just once a year to exchange knowledge and discuss matters of our legacy. A good number of our mbers are currently on their way here... drawn by the commotion. I'll have to wait until most of them have arrived and consult them before we can make a decision."
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