"I need to find Desmond Adams," Tabitha said, as she stepped up to the desk at the precinct on the outskirts of High Central, housing the Central's largest precinct for the Orderlies.

"I, uh, of course, madam Crafter," the surprised and genuinely frightened young man at the desk stammered, as he leafed through his assignment papers.

Around her, orderlies and clerks gave her a wide berth as they passed, and everyone who came close to meeting her gaze had a sudden, profound interest in something on the floor.

"Spare me the abyss," the boy at the desk muttered in relief. "He's in the Ice Box. Started his shift two hours ago, so he shouldn't have wandered off for lunch yet, ma'am."

"Good. How do I get there?"

"Ah, I believe she can direct you," the boy said, pointing towards a woman down the hall, dressed in black clothes, conversing with an orderly. "She's his assigned evaluator. You'll probably want to talk to her anyway."

Tabitha gave him a look that made him shrink in his chair. "Why is that?"

"Well, he stepped on a lot of toes recently. He rewrote an official report. A couple of senior fellows among the Undertakers tried to have him fired."

"Did they?" Tabitha asked, surprised.

"So you're not here about colonel Darrower's autopsy?" the boy asked.

"No. Although I'll admit to being curious," Tabitha replied. Without another word, she walked away and made a point of marching towards the shadow down the hall.

"Madam Crafter?" the shadow asked, the politeness clashing with the woman's terse delivery.

"Your charge, Desmond Miles. Take me to him," Tabitha said.

"Straight to intimidation? Normally I at least get a 'hello'," The shadow replied, her hand resting beneath her coat.

Tabitha smirked at the move, then strode past the shadow.

"You don't want to see Desmond? I can't imagine you've ever been here before," the shadow said.

Tabitha smiled as she kept walking.

"He works in the Ice Box. Which is roughly that way," Tabitha said, pointing with her left hand towards the floor, towards the far corner of the building. "Three stories down. Possibly four. If need be, I'll make my own way down there. Literally, if I'm irritated enough."

The shadow cursed and jogged towards Tabitha. "The stairs are on the left, three doors from here. Care to tell me what this is about?"

The shadow fell into step just behind Tabitha.

"So, your charge is in trouble? That's awkward for you," Tabitha remarked.

"Yeah. Thankfully, it's not 'scourged reject' trouble, or it might have mattered to Oversight. I actually got a visit from a senior evaluator. Told me that officially, the Bureau prefers that rejects stay out of any sort of trouble."

"And unofficially?" Tabitha asked.

"Oversight appreciates the story. It helps mitigate the stigma of being a reject."

Oddly insightful of Oversight. Suspicious, Tabitha asked, "did this senior evaluator have a stupid looking hat? Tall, talks softly?"

"Yeah, that's him." The shadow replied, with a marked change in her tone. "Can't believe I got to meet Mathias burning Aranhall. I now get how Desmond still gushes when he talks about Theo Ratterson. The boy still won't shut up about what that Crafter taught him before he was rejected."

"I can imagine. Desmond is in a good place for a reject."

"It's not for every reject, ma'am. Desmond's a good kid. He's restrained and careful about the Craft. He doesn't deserve the blowback he's getting just because he re-wrote a report." The shadow said.

"Is that why you think I'm here?" Tabitha asked.

"Why else would you be?" The shadow asked in reply.

Tabitha laughed and shook her head. "I'm here to ask him about an acquaintance. I'm considering taking an apprentice this year."

The shadow laughed hard, actually having to stop and slap her knee. Tabitha raised an eyebrow as she looked back, but she smiled.

"Are you burning kidding? Burn me, that sounds so ash-bitten mundane! Like the City's still normal somehow." The shadow exclaimed as she jogged to catch up with Tabitha. She extended her hand and said "Regina Tulwan. Currently Oversight's liaison with the Orderlies, and Desmond Miles' evaluator."

Tabitha shook her hand "Tabitha a'Loria."

"Are you kidding? The hero of the Burning Night?"

"Burning Night?" Tabitha asked.

"It's what the Tributary called the Foundry Incident a few weeks ago. Burn me! You're really her!" Regina said as she took a few deep breaths. "Sorry, ma'am. I guess I'm gushing a little. It's just we're not used to Crafters coming in to help us when situations go bad."

"I imagine not. Throwing a Crafter at a fire is a good way to make a bad situation worse. I'm grateful the nannies are as good as they are." Tabitha admitted.

"Not something I know a lot about. I only found out about them after a friend I made during the Gauntlet was tapped to join them. She died in that incident. Did you meet her? Trisha-"

"Trisha Adams. I doubt I'll ever forget her." Tabitha said, surprised by how much she meant it.

"I-" Regina said, taking a deep breath. "Thank you, madam Crafter. The Ice Box is just up ahead. Did you want some privacy?"

"I would," Tabitha said, surprised and a little grateful. "I'd rather not get some students into trouble. The Apprentice Hall is very liberal about what they let the students attempt with the Craft."

"I'm not doing this wholly out of courtesy, madam Crafter. It's cold in there. It's as cold as they can make it without impairing Desmond's ability to write."

"We have ink that doesn't freeze in there?" Tabitha asked, surprised.

"No. He, ah..." She stopped and hesitated before continuing. "He writes with the Craft."

Another surprise. "I suppose I shouldn't be concerned that you let a reject Craft without supervision. So long as it's only in the Ice Box. And I expect that his ability to conduct an autopsy without removing the body is useful to the undertakers."

"The orderlies are pretty excited about having him. Honestly, I've never been less worried about a reject. He's a good kid."

"I'll keep that in mind," Tabitha said.

The shadow stepped ahead of her and opened the first door. "Just through there, madam Crafter."

Tabitha stepped through, and waited for the door to close before opening the next one, trying to preserve the cold air. As the cold air hit her, she instinctively threw her heat haze up, buffeting the air and pushing a warm breeze through the room. The forceful gust knocked over a few glass vials and startling a young man standing in front of a table, examining notes that were flung away from his gaze as the wind tossed it across the room.

"Ash touched stupidity," Tabitha muttered, forcing her heat haze back. "Apologies, master Adams. My reflexes are more temperamental than they used to be. I was hoping to speak with you."

"Of course, madam Crafter!" The boy said as he scrambled for the papers. He had collected them long before Tabitha reached the far end of the room, and was already arranging them back on the desk. "Sorry, it's just a bit of a surprise. You're the second woman interested in the morgue in the last few weeks. Asides from Inspectors and grieving family, I don't expect to see much of anyone down here."

"I'm not sure if this is going to be a relief or not," Tabitha said, as Desmond replaced his papers. "I'm not here about a body. I'm here to ask you about an acquaintance of yours, from your time as an apprentice."

"Uh, ma'am, I'd rather not talk about Master Ratterson. At all, considering his work." Desmond said, almost stuttering as he spoke. "I mean no disrespect, madam Crafter. It's just he works in Research, and I have no idea if some things should be secret or not."

Tabitha smiled and chuckled. "Discretion. I don't see enough of it in the City. No, master Adams, I'm here about a fellow apprentice. I'm told you knew him before and during his apprenticeship. Gerald Raeth."

"Gerald? Yeah, I know him. I didn't know him well, before the Apprentice Hall. People tend to avoid you once they find out you're a potential." Desmond explained. "And they found out about him when he was twelve."

"Really?" Tabitha asked. It was a surprise since the three-mile pilgrimage was only expected of teenagers aged fifteen to seventeen.

"Yeah. There was an accident, years ago. He was working with his father during one of the reclamation projects. I'm afraid I don't know the details. I got to know him better a few months after he arrived. Master Ratterson was already teaching me, but I think word got around that I was going to be rejected. I was ostracized pretty quickly."

"He asked me to show him around, on his first day in. He recognized me from school." Desmond finished explaining.

"Did you teach him how to write with the Craft?" Tabitha asked.

"I did. Master Ratterson had started teaching me a few weeks before when he started hunting for a job I could do after my apprenticeship." Desmond explained as he stepped towards one of the bodies on the table. "Sorry, madam Crafter, but can I work while we talk?"

"I've seen bodies before," Tabitha replied. Desmond nodded.

Desmond made no move to pick up a scalpel, but instead held his hand about a foot above the body, and began to Craft.

Tabitha watched carefully as Desmond formed a small, whirling mass of light, nearly invisible fire at his fingertips. It took her a moment to recognize it as an imitation of a scalpel.

She waited, genuinely curious, as Desmond seemed to somehow pour fire into his craft, until his small scalpel blazed with light.

"Now I see why Theo took you on. This is the first time I've ever been surprised by what a reject can do with the Craft," Tabitha admitted. "Is that two separate crafts?"

"It is, ma'am. I don't have the strength to make a fire like this in here; the cold-stone drinks heat faster with a stronger craft. But Master Ratterson's research showed me that even a weak craft nullifies the heat-drinking effects of Coldstone behind that Craft. It's why the heat-haze can shield people near a Crafter, even in here."

"So you use a weak craft to shelter a strong one. Theo taught you multiple crafts, once you brought the theory to him. Did he test the theory himself, first?"

"He didn't. I wanted to surprise Master Ratterson with it. I had Gerald teach me to make two crafts. He owed me for teaching him how to write with the Craft."

Another surprise. "First years aren't taught multiple crafts. Developing that calibre of awareness requires considerable skill. Some potentials are failed simply for never manage it. Abyss below, Brenda can't manage more than three, and I spent nearly half a year trying."

"Brenda Thael can only do three?" Desmond asked, surprised.

"She can also vaporize tungsten. Without burning someone standing next to it," Tabitha found herself saying sharply. Brenda Thael might be the least skilled of her three, but unlike the boy in front of her, she earned and deserved the coat. "She might be the City's strongest Crafter."

"Gerald said it had more to do with awareness than strength. It took me a few weeks to get comfortable with it."

Tabitha wasn't surprised. Learning to create two separate Crafts was often harder than learning to craft at all. It was one of the requirements of the Coat, a requirement that Oversight objected to more than any other.

Powerful potentials had been denied the coat because they couldn't manage the coordination that Desmod demonstrated in an abyss-touched ice-box. No wonder Theo felt he needed to nurture that talent a little.

Those few apprentices who managed multiple Crafts in their first year were often given the coat quickly. Gerald could be, by now, a formidable talent. Often, like Coraline, they had already passed the minimum requirements for the Coat by the time they wrote their paper.

Abyss below, Nathaniel was entirely too dangerous as it was. The thought of throwing her power against someone with the strength and skill of Coraline was a disturbing proposition.

At least, that's what she told herself. Somewhere deep in her thoughts, the idea of testing the limits of her power left her heart hammering and a grin on her face.

"Ah, madam Crafter?" Desmond asked, alarmed. "Your hear haze, please. "

"Oh. Sorry, master Adams." Tabitha said and forced her heat haze into a small, weak, gossamer shell kept close to her body.

"By the abyss and its endless fires, Madam Crafter, you are strong," Desmond said, as he watched the nearby thermometer. "Master Ratterson always said so, but I couldn't even see a sign you were Crafting when you did that. Even a residential line pumped in here couldn't raise the temperature that fast.

"Did Gerald talk to you at all about his paper? Especially if he knew you were apprenticed to Theo, any apprentice would look to you for insight about a good topic." Tabitha said.

"No, ma'am. I even asked. He said it was an odd topic, and he'd rather test the waters with a master looking for an apprentice." Desmond explained, and Tabitha grinned in palatable relief. Gerald may be unwittingly saving a few lives by wanting to keep his paper's contents to himself.

"Do you know if Gerald is on good terms with his family?" Tabitha asked.

"I'm pretty sure he is, ma'am," Desmond said. "He wasn't thrown out after they learned he was a potential. I'm not sure what happened in that incident, but I do know that if his family kept him for six years, it means his relationship at home with his family survived the discovery."

"So he might have gone home. Where is home for him?"

"Northward academy. His father got a teaching position there about four years after the incident. That incident with Gerald also ruined his father's lungs, whatever it was. He had to teach wall construction rather than do it. It turns out; he was actually good at it, so they offered him the post at an academy."

"Interesting, thank you," Tabitha said. She stepped back, and began to turn away.

"Master Adams, how did you get into trouble? Your shadow said something about rewriting an autopsy." Tabitha asked, curious.

"I was getting an autopsy for a reporter. I found the original autopsy had been, sorry, I forget the word. But it had entire lines of text crossed out with heavy ink."

"Redacted?" Tabitha asked.

"Yeah, that's it. So I re-did the autopsy and scribed out a copy for her. My superiors have been up in arms about it for a while, but so far I haven't been fired. I think that's my shadow's doing," Desmond explained.

"It also helps that firing you could look bad if a paper wrote something on it. Did you catch the name of the reporter you talked to?"

"Natalina Casper."

"Of course it's her," Tabitha muttered to herself. If the Tributary was investigating this, it might have something to do with the deaths of two colonels and the Lord Captain. "Who was the redacted autopsy about?"

"Colonel Carla Darrower."

That confirmed it. Tabitha mused for a long moment, considering the implications.

She quickly set it aside. Gerald's secrets were still more dangerous, even if the colonels were putting daggers into each other's backs. But she decided she could help the reporter a little. She could afford the few minutes it would take.

"Who did the original autopsy?"

"Gavin Edran Millerswright." Desmond said.

"Is he working today?"

"He is, why?"

"I'm going to have a word with him. See if I can't talk him into telling me why he redacted that autopsy in the first place." Tabitha said as she turned away.

"Please don't, ma'am! I actually do like working here."

"Relax, master Adams. I rather doubt they'll be at all concerned with you when I finish talking to them," Tabitha said and stepped back out of the doors.

She forced her heat haze to fade as she stepped out, just in time to see the boy's shadow standing just down the hall. "Do you know where a Gavin Millerswright is? I'd like a word with him."

"That's the coroner who nearly got Desmond fired. What did you want to talk to him about?" Regina asked. There was a quiet chuckle in her words, as the shadow asked.

Tabitha smiled. "I'm hoping to encourage his sense of civic virtue, and turn himself in."

The shadow grinned and pointed up the stairs. "Follow me."