THIEF OF BREAN (VOL-1)|✓

A DECEPTIVE DIMENSION- XL

The pass carved on to the mount loomed in the mist of the dawn. Although the ground was coarse, its width was well enough to hold a truck. The air was crisp and heavy with the smell of moss and damp mud. At every curve that furthered the course into a higher elevation, the road was heaped with large mass of snow. The cold flashes were stronger to the eastside of the mount as it was exposed to the mountain ranges of Nnewins.

As the rising rays of sun brightened up the surroundings, Carl noted that everyone was wearing civilian clothes. None of the Sentinels were carrying their twin swords on their backs or any other weapons for that matter.

Surely, they were skilled enough to excel in a physical combat, but it didn't stop him from being apprehensive. Carl's hands moved to his coat pocket to make sure that the tiny hunter knife was still there.

"Officer Lavely," a remotely familiar voice called upon him.

Carl craned his neck to the Sentinel duo trudging to his right.

"Remember us?" one of them asked, grinning.

Carl blinked in surprise. He smiled at Bennett Kay and skimmed his eyes over to the other, Webb Croft. "Sentinels, nice to see you again."

"You too, Mr Detective," said Webb Croft. "I told you he'd not forget. He is officer of intelligence," he told his friend, tapping his forefinger on his temple.

"This is amazeballs," said Bennett. He was sunnier than he had been during their previous encounter.

"It can be dangerous," Carl cautioned.

"The cold?" as Webb smirked, he looked almost like Rhett. "Major Orland says it is not as bad as it is written in the records. He said that he had been here once and the conditions are more or less same as in the valleys." He threw his hand around Bennett's neck jovially.

"Don't worry, Detective, the mull is the cure and we have plenty of it," Bennett gestured at his bag.

Carl smiled pleasantly, forgetting his uncertainties for that moment. This place was different. People were lot amiable and supportive in Neve. Maybe it was because he was a stranger. A ripple of uncertainty seized him once the conversation had ended between them. He had never dealt a case that involved a mafia ring.

The most challenging that he had worked on was a double murder, where the leads were followed to no avail and the case was eventually marked cold. With the despairing thoughts ramping up in his head, his misgivings were rising too.

What if they didn't find the ring?

What if this became another unfortunate case which he lost after coming so close to the point of cracking it?

What if Velibhor was really a myth?

His thoughts were broken by a swift flurry of snow. Rhett was trudging ahead at a faster pace alongside Lamont, tearing off the mist hanging in the air. The Sentinels were dispersed about the path, whereas Carl and Giles lagged behind all of them by generous distance.

For most of its height the slope of the mount was fairly steep. There was no way one could build a cabin and stay there. If a ring was sheltered, it had to be the crest. He paused for a moment and sighed. His legs were already achy. He had made it a habit to raise his spyglasses at every bend of the pass and gauge the unnerving distance up ahead. For his dismay it didn't seem to have reduced a bit from the first time he had seen it.

The morning sky grew dim and snow came down with cold winds when they made it to the first lookout-point. It was a craggy stone-built cabin perched on a levelled plot of the slope. They looked as if they were built in a hurry. The next two lookout-points were located close to the first one. For each of them the Sentinels had conducted a brief survey around the vicinity looking for any traces of the ring's presence. Finding nothing significant they had moved ahead swiftly.