Annouhanks to the generosity of my patrons, I was able to ission some art of Vivienne! Check out the foreword for the art. (It's not perfectly accurate to her appearance, but for now its close enough.)“The st leads here,” Rava said, stopping in front of a modestly sized wooden building. Its walls were weathered but sturdy, the faint hum of voices filtering out from within.

  Vivieilted her head, her qui of eyes sing the structure with mild curiosity. “What’s this pce?”

  “A school,” Rava replied, her toral. “For children and adults who want to learn to read.”

  Vivie out a soft hum of approval, stepping closer to the door. “Practical. I didn’t think many would bother teag the grown-ups.”

  “Literacy is important here,” Rava said. “The Lekine value knowledge, and education bes the whole . It’s not a rare thing.”

  Vivienne fshed a toothy grin, her sharp features softening with an almost wistful expression. “Funny thing—I almost studied to bee a teacher.”

  Rava gave her a sidelong gnce, her brows lifting in genuine surprise. “Almost?”

  “Mm, yeah,” Vivienne murmured, her usual bravado giving way to something quieter. “I went through the whole course, actually. But my ay got the better of me. The idea of standing in front of a room full of kids—being responsible for all their learning—it was just... overwhelming.”

  Rava blinked, clearly caught off guard. “You, anxious? I ’t imagine you scared of... well, anything. I’ve seen you charge headfirst into battle against creatures that defy nature itself—things that should, by all rights, have torn you apart. And you just devour them.”

  “Well, maybe now,” Vivienne admitted, her voice tinged with a mencholy Rava wasn’t used to hearing. “But back theh and turning into this... thing I am now—it ges you. ed my mind in ways I ’t always expin. The things that used to scare me feel so small now.” She shrugged, though her tone was lighter. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t feel it once.”

  “I guess so,” Rava said after a moment, her tohoughtful.

  Vivieilted her head, the teasing gliurning to her eyes. “So, what’s the pn? Are we breaking in, or do we do this the b way?”

  Rava sighed, her ears twitg slightly. “Front door first. There aren’t any csses right now, but the teacher should still be here.”

  Vivienne smirked. “Fine, fine. But if the door’s locked, I’m taking it as a sign we should do things my way.”

  Rava ignored her and strode toward the front of the building. Knog firmly, she waited as footsteps approached from within. The door creaked open, revealing a middle-aged Lekine man with silver-streaked fur and an air of quiet authority. His eyes swept over the pair, lingering a little too long on Vivienne before he straightened.

  “Lady Ravanyr,” he greeted with a small bow, his voice steady. “To what do I owe this visit?”

  “We’re iigating the ret thefts iy,” Rava replied, her tone respectful but direct. “We were told stes went missing from your school.”

  The teacher sighed, stepping aside and motioning for them to enter. “e in, then. I’ll tell you what I . It’s been... an unusual week.”

  The interior of the building was simple but funal. Low desks were ly arranged in rows, and the faint smell of chalk and old wood filled the air. On one wall hung a rge steboard, covered iions aers from the st lesson.

  “Stes weren’t just stolen,” the teacher began as he shut the door behind them. “Two were broken—shattered right there ioreroom. The rest are gohout a trace.”

  Vivienne ran a cw over the grooves on a desk, her expression curious. “Why stes, though? Doesn’t seem like a hot item on the bck market.”

  The teacher’s ears twitched. “That’s what I thought, too. At first, I assumed it rank—a child being careless. But I found footprints. Bare feet, rger than any of the students here and smaller than the few adults that study here under my teag.”

  Rava frowned. “Anything else missing besides the stes and chalk?”

  He shook his head. “No, just those. The footprints vanished he back garden. I show you, if it helps.”

  Rava nodded. “Please.”

  The teacher led them through the school to a small back door that opened onto a modest garden. The ground here was soft, and faint iions marred the earth.

  Vivienne crouched low, her cws brushing the edges of one print. “The footprint is uniform and smooth.” she muttered. “And at that size, definitely not a kid.”

  Rava she air, her sharp senses pig up faint traces of something. “Wood again. And... dye?”

  Vivienne grinned. “Our studious mannequin strikes again.”

  The teacher blinked in fusion. “Mannequin?”

  Rava groaned. “Ignore her.”

  Vivieood, her grin widening. “No, no. Let’s follow the trail. I’m curious to see if our schorly thief has expas colle to, I don’t know, quills and ink bottles.”

  Rava rolled her eyes but motioned for the teacher to step back. “We’ll take it from here. Lock up and stay inside for now.”

  The man nodded areated into the schoolhouse, the heavy wooden door shutting firmly behind him. As soon as it clicked, Vivie out an exaggerated sigh, brushing her cws against her hands as if ridding them of some great bor. “Wood, dye, a trail leading into the unknown—finally, something iing! Holy, this might be the most exg day I’ve had in weeks.”

  Rava gave her a ft look, arms crossed. “You killed aherwolf three times my height st week, and the week before that, you ate a shadow hydra. You call that b?”

  “Exactly!” Viviehrew up her hands, her grin stretg wide. “Big, scary monsters are old hat at this point. But a thieving mannequin? Now that’s a story worth telling!”

  “It’s not a mannequin,” Rava said, rubbiemples in exasperation.

  Vivienne ignored her, tapping her in moption. “Ah, but sider, my dear Watson! The aether trail it’s leaving is almost too obvious, too deliberate. What if it wants to be caught? What if it’s luring us in, daring us to follow?”

  Rava’s tail twitched in annoyance. “You’re not even listening to me, are you?”

  “Brilliaion, Watson! That’s why I keep you around,” Vivienne decred, striding off fidently down the alley.

  Rava sighed but followed, muttering under her breath, “There’s no reasoning with her.” Still, the iious energy Vivienne radiated was hard to resist, and against her better judgment, she found herself smirking just a little.

  A thieving mannequin, though? Absolutely ridiculous.

  As they followed the faint trail, it led them deeper into the artisan quarter. The cobblestones beh their feet were worn smooth, and the usual bustle of the city faded into a distant hum. Above, lines of undry crisscrossed the alleys, casting fleeting, angur shadows over their path as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

  Rava slowed as they reached an interse, her sharp witg. She crouched briefly, her ears swiveling. “The st splits again,” she murmured, gesturing with a cwed hand down a narrower hat seemed to lead toward a cluster of old workshops. “It’s strohis way.”

  Vivienne, however, tilted her head in the opposite dire. She extended a d pointed fidently. “The aether trail heads that way.” Her voice carried an amused lilt. “And might I remind you, aether is a lot harder to mask tha.”

  Rava raised an eyebrow. “And might I remind you, st lead you to things that aren’t ented distras?”

  Vivienne grioothily. “Touché. But let’s sider this: whie is more fun?”

  Rava let out a soft growl of irritatioail flig sharply. “This isn’t about fun. We’re chasing a thief, not pnning a piic.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Vivienne quipped, crossing her arms. “Personally, I find thieving mannequins fasating. If this one’s ented, I’d rather not miss its grand finale.” She paused dramatically, her eyes gleaming. “Shall we flip a ?”

  Rava straightened, her hands on her hips. “Fine. I’ll follow the st. You go after the aether trail. If you find our culprit, don’t engage alone. Signal me.”

  “Deal,” Vivienne replied breezily, already setting off in her chosen dire. “But for the record, I’ll probably get there first.”

  Rava muttered something under her breath before taking the opposite route, her strides purposeful.

  The artisan quarter grew even quieter as they split up. The sts Rava tracked seemed to intensify, a mix of wood, dye, and somethiallic leadioward the dimly lit workshops. Meanwhile, Vivienne’s path took her toward a brightly painted building with an open courtyard, where the faint shimmer of aether seemed to thrum in the air like a pulse.

  Rava moved through the narrowing alleys, her sharp senses guiding her unerringly. The st twisted and turhrough the artisan quarter, almost as though it had a mind of its own, lingering at doorways and faintly drifting toward certain stalls. Most of the workshops she passed were dark, their owners havi for the day. Tools huly on pegs, and faint traces of sawdust and paint lingered in the cool air.

  She stopped abruptly at a crossroad, where the st seemed to swirl and dissipate like smoke. Croug low, she brushed her cws over the faint outline of a footprint. “Still n marks,” she murmured. A hint of irritation flickered across her face. “I’ll eat my boot if she’s right.”

  Meanwhile, Vivienne meandered along her path, pausing occasionally to prod at the shimmering remnants of aether suspended in the air. Being alone didn’t mean she missed the opportunity to fsh a wide grin at everyone she passed. Her sharp teeth caught the light, and the reas of her unwitting audience seemed to delight her. She had very pretty teeth after all.

  She ran a cw lightly along the edge of a wooden doorframe, where the traagic was slightly thicker, and leaned in to sniff it.

  As she rounded another er, the aether trail abruptly curved back toward a shadowed ne. Her pace quied, her eyes gleaming with i. The air grew heavier, and the taste of aether grew strong and saturated.

  Finally, the two trails verged in a small, secluded square tucked between the workshops. A tailor’s shop stood at the far end, its shutters half-closed but slightly ajar. Scattered threads ht red and gold shimmered faintly against the uneven cobblestones he doorway.

  Rava reached the square first, her sharp eyes sing the area. She she air, catg the unmistakable st of wood and dye mingled with something sharper—ink, maybe. Kneeling beside the loose threads, she carefully picked up a piece of golden silk and exami.

  “Beat you here,” Vivienne’s voice called behind her, light and teasing.

  Rava gnced over her shoulder, raising a brow. “You were saying something about getting here first?”

  Vivierolled up to her, her grin widening as she crouched beside her. “Looks like the trail agrees with me. This pce is practically drenched iher.”

  Rava held up the piece of golden silk. “Threads,” she said, her toter-of-fact. “Tailor’s shop.”

  Vivieilted her head, her expression shifting to one of exaggerated thoughtfulness. “So, our mannequin makes its pit stop. Needles, thread… what’s ? A spinning wheel? Maybe a thimble colle?”

  Rava sighed, standing and brushing off her hands. “We’ll che with the tailor. His shop’s still open, and maybe he’ll have useful details. You…” She paused, giving Vivienne a pointed look. “Just stand near me and look pretty.”

  Vivienne gave a mock salute, her grin turning sly. “Yes, ma’am. Radiay at your service.”

  Rava straightened as she and Vivienne approached the tailor’s shop. The building was modest but well-kept, its door slightly ajar. The faint st of wood and dye lingered, along with the sharp tang of ink that prickled at Rava’s senses. Beside her, Vivienne flicked her to briefly, tasting the air like a snake. Her head tilted, her gaze sharpening.

  “Definitely aether,” Vivietered, her voice low. “It’s trated here. Strohan before.”

  Rava nodded and pushed the door opely. The small bell above it jingled, and from somewhere ihey heard the hurried shuffle of footsteps.

  A wiry man emerged from the ba, his face pale and his movements jerky. He pstered on a nervous smile, his hands wringing a piece of fabric as he stepped closer. "Oh! ers—uh, wele! We're just about to close for the evening." His voice wavered, and his eyes darted between Rava and Vivienne.

  Rava's sharp gaze narrowed. “We’re not here to shop. We’re iigating a series of thefts. Your shop seems to be the test stop.”

  The tailor blinked rapidly, his smile faltering. “T-Thefts? Oh dear, that’s terrible. But, uh, I don’t think I help. Nothing’s missing here. No need for !” He edged toward the door, as if ready to usher them out.

  Vivieilted her head, her cing idly against the ter as she leaned against it. “You’re shaking like you’ve seen a ghost. Is there something you’re not telling us?” Her tone was light, almost pyful, but her qui of eyes gleamed with keen i.

  The tailor swallowed hard, stepping baervously at the sight of Vivienne's wicked cws. “N-No! No ghosts, no thieves either. Everything’s perfectly fine! Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

  Rava stepped forward, her imposing preseting off his retreat. “Fine, is it? Then why does the aether trail lead here?”

  Vivienne chimed in, her grin growing. “And why do you look like you’re about to faint?” She flicked her tongue again, tasting the air. “I’m guessing something’s in that storeroom of yours. Want to save us the trouble and tell us what?”

  The tailor stammered, his face flushing. “Storeroom? Oh, there’s nothing back there! Just some old bolts of fabrieedles, thread—normal things! Absolutely normal things!”

  Rava crossed her arms, unmoved. “Move aside.”

  “No! I mean—please, there’s no need!” The tailor’s voice cracked, and he held up his hands, a pleading look on his face.

  Vivienne pushed off the ter and stalked toward the ba, her cws clig lightly on the floor. “You’re terrible at this. Just so you know.”

  The tailor darted to block her path, his desperation palpable. “Wait! You ’t—there’s—I mean, it’s dangerous!”

  Rava and Vivienne exged a look.

  “Dangerous?” Rava repeated, her tone sharpening. “Expin.”

  The tailor hesitated, his shoulders slumping i. “It’s... It’s alive,” he finally whispered, gng toward the storeroom door. “I don’t know how, but there’s something in there. It—it moved, and please, I don’t want to upset it!” His voice cracked, and he wrung the fabri his hands as though it could somehow shield him from whatever was lurking in the room.

  Vivienne’s grin widened, her fangs glinting in the dim light. “Oh, now you’ve got my attention,” she said, her tone equal parts mockery and intrigue. She flexed her cws, clearly relishing the prospect of a frontation.

  Rava pihe bridge of her nose and sighed deeply. “Stay here,” she instructed the trembling tailor, her tone firm. “We’ll ha.”

  The man nodded vigorously, retreating toward the ter like a scolded child. “Just... please don’t let it destroy anything else,” he mumbled, gng nervously at the storeroom door as if it might burst open at any moment.

  Rava turo Vivienne, who was already lig her lips in exaggerated anticipation. They exged a gnce—Rava’s was all business, Vivienne’s an urained mixture of amusement aement. Together, they stepped toward the storeroom.

  The faint sounds of rustling grew louder as they approached. A creak of wood, followed by the soft thunk of something being moved, emanated from within. Rava’s sharp ears twitched, and she caught the faint st of wood shavings and dye, mixed with the tang of residual aether. Vivienne, meanwhile, flicked her to briefly, tasting the thick swirl of magiging in the air like a veil.

  “If this is our mannequin,” Vivienne whispered, her voice low and spiratorial, “I’m officially naming it.”

  “Focus on catg it first,” Rava muttered. Her haed on the edge of the door, which was slightly ajar. With a practiced motion, she open.

  The storeroom was dimly lit, the faint glow of twilight seeping through a narrow window high on the wall. Shelves lined with fabric bolts and jars of thread framed the space, though their oiculous order had been disrupted, with spools and scraps scattered haphazardly across the floor. In the ter of the room stood a mannequin, its wooden form draped in tattered white fabric that hung like a shroud. A crude stitch ran down the length of its face, giving it a haunting sembnce of a scar, and it wore a dipidated dress, its frayed edges whispering of a time when it might have bee. The mannequin's posture was unnervingly human, one arm raised a as though it had been frozen mid-motion, its painted eyes staring bnkly ahead.

  Rava’s eyes narrowed as she fixed her gaze on the mannequin. “There it is,” she murmured, her voice low and steady.

  Vivieilted her head, her qui of eyes gleaming with fasation. “I was right!” she excimed in delight, amusement curling at the edges of her voice. “I was very right. You owe me. I wo”

  The mannequin’s head tilted sharply in their dire without warning, the motion unnervingly smooth. Its painted eyes seemed to focus on them with uny i, the faint glimmer of light from the window casting eerie shadows across its stitched face.

  Vivie out a delighted ugh, g her cws together. “Oh, this is way better than I imagined!” she excimed, her tone brimming with excitement.

  Before Rava could respond, the mannequin jerked to life, its movements ulingly fluid yet meical. It bent low and, in a single smooth motion, snatched up a small box of spools. With the prize in hand, it darted toward the high window, its ragged dress fluttering in its wake.

  “Not so fast!” Rava growled, lunging forward with predatrace.

  Vivienne moved in tandem, her cwed hand sweeping down to block the mannequin’s path. “You’re not going anywhere, wooden wonder!” she decred with a grin, her fangs fshing.

  The mannequiated for a split sed, its painted expression unging, before abruptly shifting dire. It veered toward a nearby shelf stacked precariously high with fabric bolts and supplies. Without a moment’s pause, it shoved against the shelving, toppling the eructure toward its pursuers.

  Rava reacted instantly, dug into a roll as the avanche of fabrid supplies crashed around her. “It’s more coordihan it looks!” she shouted, frustration g her words.

  Vivienne leaped gracefully over the falling shelves, nding lightly on her feet. She spread her arms theatrically, cws glinting in the dim light. “That’s what makes this fun!” she shot back, her voice alive with exhiration.

  The mannequin darted toward the opposite er, its wooden limbs moving with eerie efficy. Vivienne unched herself after it, her ugh eg in the fined space as the chase escated. Rava, determined but less amused, moved with precision, her every step calcuted as they worked to er the animated figure.

  It then reached the er and sprang upward with a startling agility, nding atop a stack of fabric bolts. Its wooden frame barely made a sound as it perched there, momentarily out of reach.

  “Quick, isn’t it?” Vivienne said with a grin, her cws digging into the floor as she prepared to pounce.

  “Just er it,” Rava growled, her eyes sing for the best approach. She luo the left while Vivienne darted right, the two closing in with synized precision.

  The mannequin didn’t wait. It leapt again, twisting midair with a grace that belied its stiff frame. Landing on a narrow shelf, it kicked off and soared toward the shutters on the far wall. The sound of its woode against the beams id staccato, like the drumming of a heartbeat.

  “Where is it getting this coordination?” Rava muttered as she pivoted, already moving to intercept.

  Vivienne was faster, vaulting over an upeable and swiping at the mannequin with her cws. She came within a hair’s breadth of snagging its tattered dress, but the mannequin twisted its torso unnaturally, evading her grasp with an uling flexibility.

  “Cheeky little thing!” Vivienne shouted, her tone equal parts frustration and glee.

  The mannequin reached the shutters, gripping the edges with its smooth, cloth-ed hands. With a burst of strength, it shoved them open, light flooding into the dim storeroom. For a moment, it g there, framed by the glow, like some bizarre, makeshift acrobat.

  “Don’t you dare—” Rava began, but it was too te. The mannequin vaulted through the opening, flipping on the air before nding on the cobblestones outside with a soft thud.

  Rava and Vivienne reached the window just in time to see the figure dart into the shadows of the alley, its movements quid purposeful.

  “Did… did that thing just flip out of here?” Vivienne asked, leaning against the windowsill with a breathless ugh. “This is officially the best chase I’ve ever been on.”

  Rava shot her an exasperated gre before sing the alley. The st trail was already fading, mingling with the other sts of the artisan quarter. “We ’t let it get too far. We follow.”

  Vivienne cracked her knuckles, her griurning. “Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

  They turned and bolted for the shop’s exit, the tailaping as they sped past him. The hunt was far from over.