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such things. But I’d never been much of a historian.

“Ugh,” I said, and not from the smell. My hopes of identifying the guy were going from bad to worse, and fast. I was really striking out on this one.

My hands moved down to his pants, and I felt around the top part, hoping to find something in his pockets I could finally use to identify him.

There was a slight bulge in his right front pocket, so I dipped my hand in there, smearing it with fresh, warm blood in the process. It was kind of thick and kind of gooey at the same time, reminding me of rubbing my hands in a dense oil, only a thousand times worse. With great effort, I managed to retrieve the object and keep from throwing up at the same time.

I looked down at my gory find. It was a bi-fold wallet.

“Eureka!” I shouted. Finally something I could use.

I opened the wallet slowly, hoping for some sort of identification to fall out, but there was none. Not even a credit card. Seriously, how anyone lives without a credit card in this day and age, I have no idea.

Anyway, there were some small bills in there, maybe fifty bucks in total, which I quietly pocketed. What? He didn’t need them anymore, and I was convinced he’d once been an ally with the guy that took Mei, so he deserved it.

I rifled through the rest of the compartments in the wallet, fanning it out and turning it upside down.

Two small objects fell out, clinking onto the ground. The first looked decidedly like an old gold piece. Like something out of a museum that would have been used in ancient Rome or something. An odd keepsake, but I’d seen weirder. It didn’t look to be anything overly special, but I pocketed it, too. Maybe I could sell it for a spot of cash.

The other object was a small bit of purplish cloth with some strange markings on both sides. The whole thing was maybe two inches tall by three inches wide, and it looked like it had been torn off a much larger piece of fabric. The small, intricate markings had been done in black ink, and they covered the entire piece.

Remarkably, the cloth looked to be mostly untouched by the blood and the car crash, unlike everything else on his body, including the bills I’d pocketed earlier.

I smiled at my good fortune, but that feeling quickly faded as I took a closer look at the writing. Something about it looked altogether familiar, even though I couldn’t quite make any of it out, at least not in the dim light of the alley.

My eyesight was good, but the markings were miniscule and intensely detailed.

Even so, a sinking feeling in my gut told me I should know just what those markings were. They were more than just random etchings; I was certain of it. In fact, they looked like little runes laid out in some sort of quote or inscription.

And not just any runes, either, but ancient ones. Ones from a long-dead culture. I couldn’t be certain, because I was no expert, but they weren’t far off from the runes on my trusty new sword.

4

My fingers drummed on the armrest of my chair as I frittered away the hours, wasting my life away in the dimly-lit waiting room, hoping to catch the eye of the fair-haired secretary as she babbled away on her phone.

Okay, it probably wasn’t hours. It was probably more like five minutes. But with Mei missing and every minute being of crucial importance, it sure felt like hours. And boy could that secretary talk someone’s ear off. Of course, that kind of was her job, so I couldn’t really be mad at her for it.

Besides, I hadn’t actually made an appointment, so I kind of had to stay on her good side. At least for now.

The secretary’s head bobbed slightly as she spoke to whoever was on the other line. It was slightly mesmerizing in a way. I watched her for another moment or two before turning my attention back to my drumming fingers.

At my side lay Grax’thor. Having it in a back sheath while sitting in an office chair wouldn’t have been that comfortable, so side carry it was. It looked happy there, for what it was worth.

I know what you’re thinking. How could a sword have feelings? Well, it probably doesn’t, but that didn’t stop me from ascribing them to it.

As for why I brought a sword with me to an appointment with a professor? Well, why not? In the past twenty-four hours, my best friend had been kidnapped in front of my eyes and I’d done battle with a strange painted dude in the middle of 5th Avenue. Best not to take any chances when weird stuff like that was going on.

Besides, who knew? Maybe it would come in handy in helping me convince this professor dude that I meant business. Something told me I would need all the help I could get on that one.

“Mr. Xiang?” a sweet voice said a moment later, rousing me from my own thoughts.

I shook my head slightly and raised it to look at the speaker. It was the secretary. Apparently, her call had finally ended.

“Yes?”

“What can I help you with today?” There was a tinge of annoyance in her tone, barely perceptible.

“Umm, I was hoping to see Mr. Veinne sometime today.” I flashed her a big, toothy grin. “That is, if he has a spot available.”

She gave me a weak smile - one of those obviously fake ones you put on for people you don’t like - and glanced down at something on her desk.

“Let’s see.” She tapped a notebook on her desk with the end of a pen she was holding. “It looks like he’s available an hour from now, if that will work. Can you come back at two o’clock?”

I gently bit my lip. I really didn’t want to wait at all

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