Duke’s hooves echoed against the cold stone walls of the parking garage as he stepped away from his unmarked car. His mind turned over the conversation with Chief Greer an hour or so prior. Greer had put up a fight about reactivating him, but Duke’s persistence, his hard-won trust, and the value of his prospective leads had paid off with the one caveat that Rex was not going to be present.

  That was fine. Rex would have potentially mucked up some of the possibilities and at least he finally had the case back in his hands. Fortunately Rex still had options on his end, so this was going to be a good opportunity to throw a larger net for information.

  The cityscape of Athelun tightened around him as he left the parking garage. The grit of the city pressed in from all sides, thick with stale odors and the faded remnants of colorful graffiti peeling from brick walls.

  The sidewalks buzzed with life. Conversations drifted through the air, mixing with the din of lite traffic underscoring a shouted argument from somewhere down the block. Sidewalks were crowded but fluid, a steady stream of movement—some pushing forward, others lingering with a meandering pace.

  Duke moved with purpose but without haste, weaving into the flow of foot traffic like any other local making their way through the district. He kept his stride even, his expression neutral, his eyes working the street without moving his head too much. He knew better than to look like he was searching for something. Given his intent, looking for something could draw attention, and attention to his queries was the last thing he wanted given the safety of the folks he planned on interviewing.

  His first mark was ahead.

  Tucked between two beaten-down apartment buildings, a convenience store crouched beneath the weight of the city, its neon sign flickering and clearly in need of repairs.

  It was the kind of place that saw everything but remembered nothing.

  The door chime jingled as he stepped inside, and Mortimer Munsen’s head jerked up, his beady eyes peering through thick, smudged lenses.

  “Marlowe?,” Mortimer sniffed, almost disapprovingly. “Where’s your dog? He’s normally tied to your hip.”

  Duke allowed himself a small smirk. “Busy day for him. He’s got his own business to handle.”

  The rat scoffed, wiping his hands on his threadbare apron. “Wouldn’t happen to be motorcycle related, would it?” He smirked as he hooked his thumb toward a dated newspaper on the counter.

  Duke rolled his eyes, “No, Morty. Look, I am just here to get information. Calder is busy and he is not here.”

  Mortimer squinted, and twitched his nose side to side, “Always a busy day with you two.” His nose twitched as he looked Duke up and down, suspicion etched deep into his wrinkled features. “So what brings you here, Marlowe?”

  Duke stepped closer, his calm, grounded presence filling the room. “I need your help, Morty. Got wind of some unusual business around here. I hope you might know something.”

  Mortimer’s eyes darted nervously around the room as he muttered, “I… I don’t know, I don’t know. Lots of things go on in this neighborhood. Could be anything, right? Could be you, for all I know. You’re always poking around with questions.” He shuffled back and forth, a nervous energy that seemed to radiate off him. “I’m a simple guy, Marlowe, just running my little store here. Not my business what goes on outside. Why should I know anything?”

  Duke’s voice remained steady. “Because you see everything from behind that counter of yours. Animals say things, animals do things, animals see things, and the Morty I know is riddled with paranoia. Tell me a good conspiracy theory, Morty.”

  Mortimer scratched his chin, his eyes darting back to the window as if checking for unseen spies. “Look, maybe I see things… Maybe I don’t. Lots of riffraff around. Kids running by with loud music, and someone tried to steal some soda from that machine last week. You should have seen him.”

  Duke sighed, giving Mortimer a steady look that didn’t waver.

  Mortimer gave a toothy smile as he chuckled to his memory, “Had his entire arm up in the catch trying to pull one of the drinks down as he got his arm caught and caused a bit of a panic as his buddies tried to distract me from the entire incident, but I got my eyes here in the store and I saw everything, Old Morty has his eyes everywhere and I could see the little stain try too-”

  Duke spoke up abruptly, “Mortimer, I need to see any footage you’ve got from the last few days. A friend of mine, well, a known associate of sorts, might’ve stopped by. A guy named Quills.”

  The mention of Quills’ name seemed to set Mortimer’s tail twitching. He huffed, muttering to himself as he scratched his chin. “Quills… Quills… Lotta folks named Quills.”

  Duke made a passing gesture, “So you do know some Quills. Let’s start with that. What about a recent visit?”

  Mortimer scratched his chin, “That guy’s trouble, you know? Shows up every now and then. Likes the cigarettes on the top shelf. And, uh, the spicy chips. Never liked him.”

  “Then you won’t mind showing me some footage,” Duke said, his tone firm.

  After a final, exasperated sigh, Mortimer shuffled toward the back of the store, motioning for Duke to follow.

  "Fine, fine. You’re like a dog with a bone, you know that? Err… maybe that would be more appropriate if Rex was here. What about something like a red cape or…" he muttered, trailing off as he led Duke into a cramped, musty office, stacked high with cardboard boxes, yellowed newspapers, and an ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts.

  A flickering black-and-white monitor sat on the desk, its grainy image cycling through the store’s camera feeds. Below it, a bulky reel-to-reel tape recorder spun slowly, the tape threading through a clunky metal casing—the kind of setup that recorded in short bursts rather than continuous footage. A rack of labeled reels sat beside it, some dated, others scrawled over with barely legible handwriting.

  Mortimer plopped into the chair, adjusting a few dials with the kind of practiced frustration that came from wrestling with the system on a daily basis. He dug through the stack of reels and came to one as if he knew Duke was going to like what he was about to see. Duke sat and watched him set up the reel for his presentation.

  Mortimer leaned over, punching buttons on the console. “Let’s see… here. I remember that Quills guy coming by… piece of work. Did I give him cigs this time? Meh, I can’t remember, maybe he got a soda.” The grainy footage crackled as it rewound, images stuttering across the screen.

  Duke leaned forward, eyes narrowing as Mortimer pressed play, mumbling various things that were not relevant to what was happening.

  In the dim, gray footage, a jackal stood outside the store, shifting uncomfortably on the sidewalk as he talked to someone just out of frame. It was definitely Tamsin’s pick as most likely suspect. Duke watched as a sedan rolled up, pulling to a stop in front of Jasper. The quality was poor, the image blurry, but this was the best lead he had so far and there was not a detail he wanted to miss.

  “Stop it there,” he said, his voice low and steady. Mortimer flinched but hit the pause button.

  Duke took a closer look, noting the partial license plate just visible on the back of the sedan. “Play it again, and slow it down.”

  Mortimer muttered under his breath but obliged, rewinding the footage and playing it at a slower speed. Duke’s pen scratched across his notebook as he jotted down every fragment of detail he could see. From the make of the car, the best guess at the first few digits of the license plate, to Jasper’s agitated body language.

  A few moments into the footage, and the next figure entering the frame caught Duke’s full attention.

  A large shape filled the screen as a new animal stepped into view, towering over Jasper. Even through the grainy footage, the tiger’s sheer presence dominated the space, his pale fur almost glowing against the store’s dim lighting.

  Duke leaned in, narrowing his eyes as he studied the tiger’s movements. The way he jabbed a finger into Jasper’s chest was unmistakable, the smaller jackal forced back a step.

  “Who’s that?” Mortimer muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve seen big cats around, but this one… gave me the chills just looking at him.”

  Duke didn’t respond.

  The tiger’s clothing was simple but heavy, his broad shoulders filling out the frame with an unspoken weight of power. His ears were sharply attentive, his posture unyielding, and his gaze cold enough to cut through the camera’s distortion.

  Then, something flickered—a brief glint, barely more than a speck in the noisy footage.

  Duke leaned closer. “Back it up,” he said, keeping his tone even. “I want to see that again.”

  Mortimer adjusted the dials, the footage jerking back before resuming, the tiger’s movements slightly blurred as the tape reset.

  It was almost for a solitary frame, but it was barely noticeable.

  A glint of metal near his ear.

  Just a flicker, a momentary catch of light.

  Duke saw it. An earring. Small, just barely visible through the poor resolution—but distinct enough to register.

  As Mortimer rambled on about the “trouble with these types” and how he’d “seen enough nonsense for one lifetime,” Duke took careful, methodical notes, his mind already piecing things together. The tiger wasn’t just muscle; he was calculated, a presence meant to inspire fear. Duke had no doubt that he was a threat worth pursuing.

  Finally, Duke straightened, nodding to Mortimer. “Thanks for the footage, Mortimer. Keep your eyes open. If you see anything else, let me know.”

  Mortimer nodded quickly, looking visibly relieved as Duke turned to leave. “Marlowe, you always want eyes open, but you never think about who’s watching back. Don’t drag me into this mess. Just buy somethin and leave the money on the counter while I pack up.”

  Duke stepped out of Mortimer’s store, the chill of the Wildweald District sinking into his coat as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. That tiger was a lead that was unmistakable. It gave him a conflicted feeling of excitement and foreboding. Duke’s instincts were buzzing, and he trusted his instincts.

  His mind raced, piecing together each detail from the footage. The tiger, whose single gesture toward Jasper had spoken volumes about the kind of influence he wielded over the jackal, likely held similar influence over others.

  The Iron Talon bar was his second destination and it was several blocks away, nestled in the heart of the Old Harbor District. Duke walked with what he called a “meandering purpose”, just slow enough to blend in, while keeping a careful eye on anyone potentially shifting around him. It wouldn’t surprise him if he were being tailed, so he moved with subtle detours, his sharp gaze tracking any suspicious movement. Soon, the Iron Talon loomed ahead.

  Duke took a steadying breath, adjusted his jacket, and stepped inside.

  The bar was cloaked in a smoky haze, its lowlights casting long shadows that seemed to cling to the corners. The usual crowd of regulars hunched over their drinks, muttering quietly under the dim, yellowed lights. Duke’s presence drew a few cautious glances, but he ignored them, making a beeline for the bar.

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  Behind the counter, Chester Green was busy wiping down glasses, his green scales shifting to a shade darker at the sight of Duke. Chester’s large, wary eyes darted from Duke’s face to the door, clearly expecting a familiar figure to follow.

  Duke settled himself at the counter and gave a nod. “Afternoon, Chester.”

  Chester hesitated, then muttered, “Afternoon.” He fidgeted, glancing around again before asking, “Steel isn’t here?”

  Duke shook his head. “Busy elsewhere.”

  Chester exhaled sharply, his scales lightening slightly, then went back to his task. Duke leaned forward, keeping his voice low. “Relax, I’m not here to stir up trouble. Just need a little information.”

  Chester squinted, as both of his eyes moved into focus on Duke, “Forgive me Detective… ‘Just need a little information’ is rarely a comforting statement coming from members of your profession…”

  Duke raised his hands submissively, “No hidden agenda here, Chester. I legitimately just want to talk.”

  Chester’s lips twisted in a faint grimace as he filled a glass with water and slid it over to Duke. “If it’s about that partner of yours...”

  Duke raised his hand, “No, this has nothing to do with him.”

  Chester muttered, “He’s got a knack for trouble, and I’m just trying to run a bar.”

  Duke gave a slight nod, taking a sip of the water. “Understood. As I said, I’m not here for trouble. All I need is what you might’ve heard recently. Any chance a jackal’s been around here—a guy who goes by ‘Quills’? Slim, wiry build. You’d recognize him by a pretty gnarly scar.” He drew a line from his brow to his jaw.

  Chester’s eyes darted around, but he shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “Maybe. Get all kinds in here. Don’t keep a registry or anything.”

  “Quills,” Duke repeated, his voice quiet but firm. “Seen him or not?”

  Chester sighed, shifting from one foot to the other. “Look, like I said, it’s a bar. People come and go. If I did see him, maybe he didn’t make much of an impression.” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice, “Guy who’s gonna stir up trouble? That’s the last thing I need around here, you know?”

  Duke gave him a measured look. “Word has it he’s tied to some heavier business. If he showed up, he would have potentially been subtle. Maybe agitated, depending on the company he was keeping. You sure that doesn’t sound familiar?”

  Chester let out a defeated sigh, his scales shifting color again. “Fine. Fine, maybe I did see him—just briefly, mind you. You know? Guys like that, they don’t stay long. In and out, always looking over their shoulder. Your boy is generally a real cocky piece of work.”

  Duke leaned in closer, his eyes steady. “I need specifics. Was he alone?”

  Chester glanced down, his fingers tightening around a glass, his eyes scanning the bar. “Might’ve had some… patrons hanging around, that’s all. Not the regular crowd either. Odd folks, kept mostly to themselves. And, well…” He paused, scratching the back of his neck.

  Duke’s gaze sharpened. “Well, what?”

  Chester’s eyes flickered nervously around the room, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Big guy came in one night. White fur. Big enough to make the air go cold when he walked in.”

  Duke’s pulse quickened. “White-furred tiger?”

  Chester gulped, it was clear he was not comfortable divulging the information he was being pressured to give. “Yeah… Tiger,” he said, the word a quiet, reluctant confession. “Not like the ones you usually see. This guy was… serious. Real controlled.”

  Chester nodded, glancing away as if he’d already said too much.

  Duke tapped his finger on the counter, “Don’t leave me hanging, Chester.”

  Chester inhaled meditatively, “He didn’t stay long. Just walked in, took a look around, and went over to Quills. Gave him a look that could freeze water. He just stood there, looming over him.”

  “What else?” Duke’s voice was calm but insistent, his tone drawing out every detail.

  "Look, Stone.” Chester’s eyes flicked around the room nervously. “I… I’m not really…”

  “Chester, I am not here to cause trouble for you. I have the feeling this is going to be big, and whatever is happening that has moved new players into the game, I need to put a stop to it before people get hurt. Anything helps.”

  Chester seemed to shrink under Duke’s steady gaze. “I dunno… he talked real quiet, but Quills, Jasper, whatever his name is, he got real quiet too. He didn’t argue or anything. Tiger had him on a leash without even touching him. Then the tiger left. Just like that.”

  Duke leaned back, folding his arms. Chester’s scales had paled noticeably, and Duke could see the tension etched into his thin frame. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Chester. You’re not telling me something.”

  Chester shook his head quickly, his voice strained. “No, no, I swear. It’s just… someone like that, he’s not the kind of guy you want coming back. You get a feeling for these things, and that tiger? I have seen customers come and go for years, Stone. He scares me.”

  Duke nodded, letting the silence hang as he studied Chester’s nervous face. “Appreciate it,” he said, sliding a few bills across the counter as a tip. “Last thing. If there’s anything else you remember… you’ll know where to find me.”

  He turned to leave, but Chester’s voice stopped him. “Hey… Stone?”

  Duke looked back, one eyebrow raised.

  Chester hesitated, his eyes darting left and right as he gathered the courage to speak. “The tiger,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “He had… an earring. Silver. In his left ear. Not something you’d miss.”

  Duke’s expression didn’t change, but he gave a small nod, “Thanks, Chester. Stay safe.”

  “You too, Stone.”

  The tension was palpable from Chester as he tried to calm himself down and return to his work.

  As Duke left the bar, his thoughts whirled with the new possibilities in the case. The tiger—white fur, silver earring, an authority that silences associates with a glance. Whoever this tiger was, he was no ordinary muscle, and Quills was becoming less and less interesting as far as the case was concerned.

  Duke retraced his steps back to the parking garage, the harsh echoes of his footsteps bouncing off the cold, concrete walls. The Wildweald District’s gritty ambiance clung to him as he reached his car, a sturdy, dark sedan that had seen its fair share of the city’s underbelly. Settling in, he started the engine, the low hum filling the empty space as he pulled out and began navigating toward his next destination.

  The streets of Wildweald lay before him in a complex weave of layered roads, narrow alleys, and sprawling intersections that gave the city its distinctive look. Ahead, the route would take him out of the city core before he’d have to navigate the Maysberry Bypass. Despite the clear skies and fresh air, Duke drove with a deliberate sense of caution, eyes scanning every mirror, wary of any vehicle that lingered too long in his wake.

  The Maysberry Bypass came into view. It had been over a week, and road crews were still out, with orange cones and temporary barriers all working on the repair efforts since Rex’s high-speed pursuit had left its mark.

  After a few exits, the lights and concrete began to fade behind him as the road wound up into the mountains, leaving the sharp edges of Athelun’s skyline behind. Duke kept his speed steady, eyes keen, alert for any vehicle that might be following him. He couldn’t risk leading any unwanted company to Felix’s safehouse.

  The sky above was clear, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the jagged landscape as Duke left the edges of Athelun’s urban borders. Rolling hills and rocky outcroppings gradually gave way to pine-covered slopes. Eventually, he turned onto a narrow, winding road, its isolation a reminder that safety for Felix depended on being as inconspicuous as possible.

  When he finally reached Felix’s safehouse, he slowed to a crawl, pulling up to the unassuming little house tucked between tall trees and sloping terrain. He parked, making sure his car was out of direct view from the road. Felix’s house was plain—almost too plain, as if its forgettable exterior were its own form of camouflage. Duke double-checked his surroundings, stepping out of the car as quietly as possible. He knocked once, then twice, and then in a deliberate rhythm to reassure Felix it was him.

  The door opened a crack, and Duke glimpsed Felix’s wide, nervous eyes darting around before he cautiously opened it wider. Felix, a small, wiry squirrel with twitching ears and a restless tail, looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

  “Duke,” he whispered, “You sure no one saw you?”

  Duke gave a reassuring nod. “Just you and me, Felix. I was careful.”

  Felix bit his lip, his tail flicking with anxiety as he stepped aside, letting Duke enter. The inside of the safehouse was as sparse as the outside—a few pieces of mismatched furniture, a stack of boxes in the corner, and a couch that looked like it hadn’t been comfortable in years.

  As Duke took a seat, Felix remained standing, arms crossed, his gaze darting toward the windows. “I thought… I thought I was done with you people. Gave you everything already.”

  Duke shook his head, his voice calm but firm. “This is different, Felix. I need information on the dealer network you were familiar with. The Silken Veil.”

  Felix clenched his jaw, then let out a shaky sigh, taking a seat across from Duke. “I left that life, Duke. Barely with my tail intact. You think I want to retread any of that ground? Are they after me?”

  Duke shook his head, “No. Felix, do you know who Jasper Thorn is? From what I could see in his file, you were likely an associate a few years ago.”

  Felix’s expression shifted, and he let out a short, bitter laugh. “Quills? We used to deal in Fyre together. I thought he’d never be able to stop using, but… look if he is doing anything that got him on your radar it seems like he managed.”

  Duke nodded. “Not only that, he’s moved up the ladder. He’s dealing in Wyldfire now, the designer variant.”

  Felix rubbed his temples, his voice lowered to a tremble. “Wyldfire? You serious?” He shook his head. “Duke, that stuff was way above me back then. It was theory. The silken veil wouldn’t let us near that product.” Felix began shaking, his fur standing on end in agitation. “I cut all ties, Duke. I was done with that mess. You can’t come here and put me back…”

  Duke leaned forward, voice firm but steady. “I came myself. No backup, no other officers. I’m trying to keep you off the radar, Felix.”

  “Yeah!?” Felix looked on the verge of panic.

  Duke raised his hands to calm Felix down, “Look, I need Jasper’s whereabouts, any safehouses he’s used before. We’ve pulled a link to him from a low level dealer, and now to someone much more dangerous. A white tiger, with a silver earring. Ring any bells?”

  Felix went rigid, his bushy tail bristling so hard it nearly doubled in size. His ears flicked back, and his paws curled instinctively toward his chest, fingers twitching with nervous energy. His gaze locked onto Duke, wide and unblinking. For a long moment, he didn’t even breathe. Then, barely above a whisper, he chittered, “I heard rumors, back in the day. But I don’t know his name, only whispers about a tiger who’d turned syndicate enforcer. Nasty piece of work. He doesn’t leave loose ends.”

  “That’s why I need you, Felix. You are not the first person I have heard to illustrate the gravity of that tiger, so I have every reason to believe that Jasper is in way over his head. I need to know where he’s staying, or where he may be doing business now.”

  Felix swallowed, his gaze sliding toward the floor. “I might… I might have one lead,” he muttered. “Jasper had an old apartment in the lower district. He was practically living there when I was… in the thick of it. Don’t know if he still goes back, but if he does…” Felix scratched his arm, his voice dropping to a whisper. “If you find him, you didn’t hear this from me. I’m trusting you, Duke. Don’t make me regret it. I am a ghost Duke.”

  Duke took a deep breath. “Thank you, Felix.”

  Felix shook his head. “Duke, if he’s got ties to that tiger, you’d better have some backup. He isn’t going to be just some run-of-the-mill dealer anymore. The Veil doesn’t use that tiger unless they’re serious. Something big is going to happen.”

  Duke could see the genuine fear in Felix’s eyes. The squirrel’s shoulders slumped, and he rubbed his temples as if the very memory weighed on him. “Look, Duke,” he said softly, “I did my time for you folks. Gave everything up, just to get out. But if there’s any chance they find out I am still alive…” He stopped, voice trembling. “I’ll need to go somewhere else, disappear again. Somewhere they can’t get to me.”

  Duke reached out, resting a hand on Felix’s shoulder, an unspoken promise in his gaze. “We’ll make sure of it. I’ll get you the help you need.”

  Felix swallowed hard, looking at Duke with an expression of both gratitude and fear. “Just… don’t let them find me, alright?”

  “Felix, what can you tell me about this tiger? I don’t recall him being involved with the investigation you were a part of.” Duke folded his arms, contemplatively.

  “He’s a monster, Duke.” Felix’s tail twitched nervously. “I hear he “tastes” his victims. He is an enforcer for the Veil. I don’t know anything more about him other than folks that have seen him don’t like talking about him. He is a ghost.”

  Duke was silent for a long moment, his fingers tightening slightly on the arm of his chair. Felix's words lingered in the air between them, thick with an unspoken dread. His tail was still trembling, his body wound tight.

  Felix swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. “You… You sure about this safe house? I mean… how do I know I won’t just be sitting there, waiting for him to find me?” His claws curled into the worn table between them. “Cops ever lost someone before?”

  Duke exhaled slowly, “It’s secure,” he said, leveling his gaze at Felix. “No official records, no paper trail. You’re off-grid. It’s me and Detective Flynn that know the specifics.

  Felix’s whiskers twitched, unconvinced. “That supposed to make me feel better?”

  Duke hesitated, then leaned in slightly. “No one’s getting to you, Felix. Not unless they go through me first.”

  Felix studied him, searching for cracks in his conviction. Finding none, he gave a stiff nod, but his fingers still fidgeted.

  Duke waited a second longer. He nodded and stood up, heading for the door.

  “Duke?” Felix called, almost begging.

  He looked back, meeting Felix’s worried eyes.

  “I… It’s lonely out here man. I am not sure I ever did this before, but I wanted to thank you for getting me out.” Felix to a few hesitant steps forward, “I… When is it gonna be safe for me to be relocated? Away from here?”

  Duke nodded, “Your associates are either silent or long gone. If you feel you are done hiding here, I will talk to Flynn and get you sorted.”

  Felix looked to the floor, “I can’t keep living like this. Maybe a bus out to Verde Batton would be nice for a fresh start?”

  Duke smirked, “Gambling is bad for you. But, if that is where you want to kick off a fresh start it isn’t unreasonable to get you a bus. Sit tight for a week, and you should hear from Flynn soon. And we’ll make sure you’re safe.”

  Felix looked like he didn’t want Duke to leave, but he gave a begrudging wave and a nod.

  Outside, the mountain air felt cool and clean against his face as he climbed back into his car. His thoughts churned as he started the drive back to Brickwork Station, the new information slotting into place, piece by piece. The tiger with a silver earring was clearly a power player in the Veil, and Felix’s unmistakable fear lined up with the nervous behavior of everyone else he had visited.

  Duke’s jaw tightened.

  His instincts were telling him that things were about to start moving very fast, as the stakes rapidly grew larger.