W.I.T.C.H
Chapter 12
Street Smart
Balsilide
15 Years Ago
Endarno paces his room, getting more and more angry. He has failed in many attempts to convince his partner, Walson, to change his strategy in their upcoming case. Endarno can tell that Walson is being too conservative, but he cannot convince his partner of this. He knows they would be better off using his plan of action. He knows that they would win.
He shakes his head. He had lost too much already by relying and trusting others, and he isn't about to lose this case as well. But the trail is set for tomorrow, and he still has no idea on how to stop their inevitable failure.
He slumped back onto one of his chairs and sighed. He had tried everything he could think of. Perhaps he needs to be more aggressive.
"Uh, excuse me, are you Mr. Endarno?" came a voice.
A young man stood in the doorway, peering in hesitantly.
"Yes." Endarno said, getting up. "What can I do for you?"
"Um, it's about tomorrow's trial." The young man said. "I've been sent to tell you that the time of the trail has changed."
The young man pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Endarno. The new trial schedule was written upon it. The trial was now earlier in the day then it had been previously.
"An earlier trial get cancelled?" Endarno asked, reading the paper.
"Yes, sir."
It was not uncommon for this to happen. There had been many times when a cancelled trial had changed the schedule for the rest of the day. It was rare, however, for them to receive such late notice about it.
"I've been looking for Mr. Walson, but I couldn't find him." The young man said.
"No, he's out." Endarno said absentmindedly. Suddenly, he jerked his head up and looked at the young man.
"Wait, so Walson doesn't know about this?"
"Um, no. No he doesn't." the young man said. "You are his partner, right, sir?"
"Yes."
"Oh, good. You'll be sure to tell him, won't you, sir?"
"Of course." Endarno said smiling. "I'll be sure."
He continues to smile as he waves goodbye to the young man. He then throws the paper into the nearest trash bin and begins to plan.
Balsilide
"This is so cool!" Hay Lin squeeled. "We're like real detectives!"
The five Guardians were approaching the building where the arms maker Quincy worked.
"What do you mean, 'like' real detectives. We are real detectives!" Irma responded. "Now shhhh! You'll blow our cover."
"What cover?"
"There's a cover. Now shhhh."
"Both of you shhhh!" Will said. "Come on, let's go."
Will knocked sharply on the door three times.
A middle-aged woman soon appeared at the door. She had long red hair that was tied back in a ponytail. Her clothes were stained with oil and grease, but the girls could tell that they were at one time quite beautiful. She wore a stern expression on her face.
"Yes? Can I help you?" She asked.
"You Quincy?" Hay Lin asked in a gruff voice.
"Yes. Who are you?" Quincy asked squinting at Hay Lin.
"We'll ask the questions around here!" Irma replied, stepping past Quincy and into the building.
"Are you girls lawmen?" Quincy asked.
"Do we look like lawmen?" Irma asked.
"No, you look like five girls pretending to be lawmen." Quincy said, arms crossed.
Will sighed.
"We just want to know if you made this dagger." Will said, handing Quincy the weapon.
"And what if I don't feel like talking?"
Taranee's hands burst into flames.
"I see."
Quincy took the dagger from Will, and inspected the dagger for a couple of seconds. The girls waited impatiently while Quincy looked at every aspect of the weapon. After a few minutes, Quincly snorted with laughter, then glared at Will.
"Is this a joke?" she said.
"Far from it." Will said. "Now did you make it or not?"
"I'm insulted you'd even ask." Quincy said. "This is a poorly made dagger at best."
"It is?" Cornelia asked, taking the dagger from Quincy.
"Yes, it is." Quincy said, glaring at Cornelia, "It's well below my standards of quality. Observe."
Quincy walked over to her workbench and picked up a dagger similar to the one Cornelia now held in her hands.
"This," she said, holding out the dagger, "is a work of art, that could have only been made by a master craftswoman such as myself."
She caught Will's doubtful look, sighed and continued.
"The blade is made of a special alloy that is both strong, durable and lightweight. The tip has been finely tapered to allow easy penetration and extraction. The handle has been…"
"Save the sales pitch." Will said. "Irma, Cornelia, Hay Lin, take a look around, see what else you can find."
Quincy looked offended, and then reluctantly showed the three girls around her workstation. Will motioned for Taranee to follow her, and the two of them separated themselves from the others.
"Taranee, what do you think?" Will whispered to her friend.
"I think she's nuts."
"Besides that."
"Oh. I don't think she made it."
"How come?"
"If it was really hers, she'd tell us. She wouldn't be able to let anyone else take credit for her work. She has too much of an ego."
"Yeah I think you're right." Will said, eyeing Quincy, who was now modeling her dagger for Irma.
"Alright girls, let's go." Taranee said as the girls shuffled out. "Sorry to waste your time, Mrs. Quincy."
"Miss Quincy, actually, and feel free to come back when you need a real weapon." Quincy said. She then slammed the door as soon as the girls had left.
"Alright," Will said. "One down, two to go."
Meridian
Caleb stared out at the world from one of the Castle's towers. He surveyed the city below and sighed. He used to walk those streets. He used to know every store on every corner. Now, he spent most of his time in the castle. Now, his head was filled with land claims and city guidelines. He knew he shouldn't complain. After all, things were a lot better now then they used to be.
"Caleb?"
Caleb turned to find his father, Julian, walking towards him. Julian leaned against the wall and stared out as well.
"Something on your mind son?" Julian asked.
"Not really." Caleb said with a shrug. "Just easier to think up here."
"I've seen that look before." Julian said. "Your restless. You want to be out there fighting, with the Guardians. You're feeling useless."
Caleb laughed.
"I'm not feeling useless, I am useless! I've been useless ever since the Guardians showed up. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. The Guardians are the best thing that ever happened to us. I'm just trying to figure out if I should be here,"
He swept his arm over the city in front of him.
"Or out there."
"You're a rebel, Caleb." Julian said after a slight pause. "Always have been, always will be."
Caleb smiled.
"Of course, being a rebel doesn't mean you can't live in a castle, does it? 'Cause I got to say, getting the royal dinner every day sure beats rebel rations."
"Yeah, I guess it does." Julian said with a laugh.
The two of them stood and watched the city move below them.
"So how come you're out here?" Caleb asked. "Looking for me."
"Yes." Julian said. "Because of this."
He pulled out a letter with Caleb's name on it and handed it to his son.
"It just came. I haven't read it yet." Julian said.
Caleb opened up the letter. It read:
Caleb-
This political nonsense is for cowards.
Let us settle this like warriors.
The ruins of Mora. Sundown.
-Balken
Caleb folded up the letter
"The R.E.G. expect us to fight?" Julian asked peering over Caleb's shoulder at the letter.
"Yep."
"Caleb, they're the best in the universe."
"Yep."
"Our smartest move is to wait for the Guardians to find the real killer."
"Yep."
Julian stared at his son.
"You're going to fight them aren't you?"
"Yep."
Julian sighed.
"I'll round up the others."
Caleb smiled as his father left. He took another look at the city below him. He was going to be out there once more. Sword in hand and city at his feet. He was a rebel, always had been, and always would be. He smiled, drew his sword, and then headed out, into the city.