The Incomplete Collection of the Semi-sane

An Introductional Encounter

Have you ever thought about blood-filled teacups? Reworn widow gowns, cursed tiaras, black wax seals on letters with 'burn after reading' printed on the back?

It was Tomma's dream to die in a field at night, surrounded by poppies. Possibly with a dusting of snow, just to contrast the colours. She thought about it often. It was going to be spectacular.

Thorn would die with an audience. At a church, at a coronation - preferably one of a family member's. Thorn would die with style, a silent cough of red blood dripping down his chin as he leant onto his cane with a manic smile.

Jinx would be stabbed. Or shot. They would be killed in a sqaure or on a roof with a dramatic fall and a full murder investigation with many suspects that would be interviewed and televised world wide. Jinx's portrait would be on the front of every newspaper in Bhatt.

Callie would die in the public eye, chased by paparazzi, a murderous overdose on a celebrities sofa, choked to death in a box at the oprah, her scream lost in the dramatic climax of the scene at hand.

They would all be buried in shining black marble coffins with silk linings. Tomma'a would be red, like the poppies, Thorn's would be black like the handkerchief tucked into his top pocket, Jinx's would be green, emerald, a rich colour for a worthy death, and Callies would be cream, a vintage cream that worked with the pearls she would be buried in.

They would all have matching tombstones, large and dramatic, one next to the other, shadowing their graves, keeping the sun from any weeds that might dare to grow there.

A dozen roses would be left at each grave. Immaculate for eternity.

A single closed umbrella would be left propped against whoever was on the end, whoever was buried last.

But until then there was work to do.

"There's a witch, upsetting the order of things." Tomma proclaimed.

The others nodded and contemplated, sat on their thrones in the cluttered attic.

A witch was trouble, a witch was a healer. A witch would help the ill, banish the demons and pass on her skills. A witch was bad for business.

Tomma was a witch. A bad witch. An anti-witch, taking for herself and never looking back. Tomma was selfish. Tomma was good for business. But this witch, this green witch, a healer, a carer. Unacceptable. Something must be done.

Tomma thought of murder, a knife to the back.

Thorn thought of rumer, lies and misdirection. Creating mistrust, driving the witch from town through a lack of hospitality. Manipulation of the masses.

Jinx thought of fun, an event, a competition. Put it to the mercenaries and watch the carnage unfold.

Callie thought of bribery. Then theft. Then murder.

Tomma and Callie could combine.

Thorn was humane.

Jinx was reckless.

Time to put it to the cards.

Tomma retrieved them, the king of rats, the king of crows, the king of spies, the king of snakes. Four metal cards, each representing one of the royals.

Tomma was a witch and in her craft she worked with rodents, but outside of that she had a gang to run, an army of street urchins. The king of rats.

Thorn was known professionally as 'the businessman' - his business being money and murder. He's the sort of man you would find attending a funeral in a rich silk waistcoat with an envelope of money and an emotionless frown that was impossible to read. The king of crows.

Jinx worked in the homicide investigations department in the Bhatt Policing agency, a dream of theirs since a child, but there was better business in homicides, rather than solving them, so Jinx fed information through to the rest of the royals and to his own organization. So he became the king of spies.

Callies profession was glamour. She was in the circles of the elite, tea parties with politicians, a glass of champagne with the rich. She could worm her way anywhere and leave with a much higher bank balance and lots of pretty jewelry stolen from the ladies with too much to say.

She loved a good sedusary tacktick and had become known for her joint robbery, joint murder that had inspired the homoside detective agency to gift her the nickname 'the adder'.

Within the four she was known as the king of snakes.

Tomma shuffled the cards, mettle clanging against metal, then she handed them to thorn who shuffled and handed them to Jinx who handed them to Callie who drew her own card, the king of snakes.

A simple murder, a job for Thorn, the buisnesman.

"Anyone else?" Tomma asked, looking mainly to Jinx. Homicide news was the most consistent.

Jinx nodded, opening the small brown-paper-bound notebook all their notes were kept in, liking a finger to flick through to the more recent news.

"A murder at Batcher park, simple mugging but we could check their background. It's been a week and they're still not caught, could be worth employment?" The four considered, logging it in their heads. Only Jinx wrote things down.

After a few minutes left for thought, Jinx continued down the list.

"The ghost is still not found, the veiled widow. More have been found burnt at the stake but the department has no idea, your prodigy is doing well, Thorn." Thorn nodded to accept the compliment and the others tipped their glasses a little to congratulate. A small toast to the new murderess.

"Then," Jinx continued, squinting through the mix of code and languages and scribbled handwriting, "Ahh, yes, Mr Greybul the millionaire was found dead the other day, poisoned with snake venom. In his hand was a copy of marriage papers and a rewritten will from the day before claiming a mysterious 'Blair Iriene' was to inherit all his riches. The Adder is the prime suspect in the investigation." Another toast and a spatter of applause. Callie took a sip with a smile.

Jinx looked back at their notes, skipping the boring or already discussed. A few minutes passed.

"Oh yes," Jinx started, breaking the peaceful silence, "Not in my department but in a college's, a theft. Jewels, they said, some lord, Lord Taurus of Sailem House."

"What kind of jewels?" Callie asked, wondering weather to be interested. Jinx turned a page to read the details.

"An old family heirloom worth a sum in itself but legend tells of a map, a treasure or a riddle. Whether this is truth or not is unknown but it sounded like something we may be interested in. Any thoughts?"

The four nodded, thinking. It was the kind of project they might be interested in, but it was very easily a fake.

"Does anyone have any free time?" Tomma asked. Callie nodded, her last target had been disposed of, she had no more plans.

Jinx did the same, spying was a constant but no specific jobs or games currently running.

Thorn did have jobs but he also had an apprentice. His workload had halved and nothing needed his full attention.

Tomma was always free, she ran missions so if they were free, she was free. Maybe there was time for an adventure.

"Alright," Tomma nodded, "let's show a casual interest. Jinx can ask around, Callie can get in the right circles, Thorn can price the stone itself. Maybe go to the smugglers cove or Tigers hall. I'll ask the cards. Any other business?"

No one spoke.

"Very well, meeting concluded." And they all vanished from their chairs in a second, snuffing their candles as they went. Only Tomma was left behind.

She got up slowly, swirling her wine and draining the cup. Then she two disappeared in the swish of a sleeve that snuffed the remaining candle. Time to get to work.

Loraline Reeve, a vengeful orphan and master of disguise, pulled herself out from under the dust tablecloth in the corner of the room with an accomplished smile on her face. The royals, she had found them, she had actually found them. And one of them was a spy.