Chapter 2: Whispers in the Warrens

Captain Reeves looked like a man who'd rather be anywhere else than behind his desk at three in the morning. His weathered face, mapped with the stress lines of thirty years in law enforcement, creased into a deeper frown as Jade entered his office. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting harsh shadows that made the cramped space feel even smaller.

"Sit down, Hawkins."

Jade remained standing. "Captain, about the ambassador's murder—"

"There is no murder." Reeves's voice cut through her words like a blade. "As of twenty minutes ago, Ambassador Moonwhisper died of natural causes. Heart failure. Case closed."

The lie hung in the air between them, thick as the cigarette smoke that perpetually clung to Reeves's clothing despite the Bureau's no-smoking policy. Jade's enhanced senses could smell the fear on him—sharp and acrid, mixing with his usual cologne and coffee breath.

"Natural causes don't carve void-magic runes into someone's skin," Jade said quietly.

"According to the coroner's preliminary report, there were no runes. No signs of magical interference. Just an old elf who pushed his heart too hard." Reeves finally looked up at her, his eyes tired but firm. "The Elven Spire wants this wrapped up quietly, and frankly, so do I. We've got enough problems without starting an inter-species incident."

Jade's hands clenched at her sides. "Captain, I saw—"

"You saw what you expected to see. You've always had an overactive imagination when it comes to the mystical side of things." He leaned back in his chair, which groaned under his weight. "Look, Hawkins, I know you want to prove yourself. Hell, I respect that. But sometimes the smart play is knowing when to fold."

The casual dismissal ignited something hot and ugly in Jade's chest. Twenty-four hours ago, she'd been one of the Bureau's most effective detectives. Now she was being patted on the head like a child who'd imagined monsters under the bed.

"What about Detective Morrison's statement? He was there—"

"Morrison's report mentions nothing unusual. Just a routine death investigation." Reeves stood up, signaling the end of the conversation. "Take a few days off, Hawkins. Clear your head. When you come back, we'll find you something more... suitable to your skill set."

The words hit like a slap. Jade had heard that phrase before—usually right before they assigned her to crowd control at troll wrestling matches or hauled her out to intimidate suspects who needed to see something scary. Never mind her solve rate. Never mind the commendations gathering dust in her personnel file.

"Understood, Captain." She turned to leave, then paused at the door. "One question. What happens when more bodies start turning up with their souls carved open?"

Reeves was already shuffling papers on his desk. "That won't be your problem, Detective."

---

The Bureau's parking garage echoed with the sound of Jade's boots against concrete as she made her way to her car. The familiar rage built in her chest—the same fury that had gotten her into more fights than she could count growing up in the Warrens. But beneath the anger lay something worse: the cold certainty that she was being silenced for asking the right questions.

"Jade! Wait up!"

She turned to see Detective Leo Vance jogging toward her, his usually neat appearance disheveled and his glasses slightly askew. Even at three-thirty in the morning, he managed to look more like a concerned professor than a cop. His warm brown eyes held none of the wariness she'd grown accustomed to seeing in her colleagues.

"Leo." She kept walking. "Shouldn't you be getting your beauty sleep? Some of us actually need it."

"Very funny." He fell into step beside her, slightly out of breath. "I heard about the meeting with Reeves. Natural causes, really?"

Jade stopped walking and studied her partner's face. Leo Vance was an anomaly in the Bureau—a human who'd specifically requested to work with her, citing her "impressive case closure rate" and "unique investigative perspective." Most cops saw partnering with her as career suicide. Leo saw it as an opportunity to learn.

"You weren't there, Leo. You didn't see what I saw."

"No, but I know you." His voice carried the quiet conviction that had first surprised her about him. "In the eight months we've been partners, you've never been wrong about the weird stuff. Remember the Meridian Street haunting? The brass called it mass hysteria until you proved it was a Class Four poltergeist."

Despite herself, Jade felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. Leo's faith in her abilities was one of the few constants in her professional life—a lighthouse in the storm of bureaucratic bullshit and casual prejudice.

"This is different," she said. "This is void-magic, Leo. The kind of power that makes poltergeists look like party tricks."

"Then we investigate it."

The simple statement hung between them. Jade searched his face for signs of doubt or fear, but found only determination mixed with his characteristic optimism.

"'We'? Leo, Reeves just ordered me off the case. If I keep pushing, I'll be lucky to end up working mall security. If you help me..." She shook her head. "You've got a future in this department. Don't throw it away on my crusade."

Leo adjusted his glasses—a nervous habit she'd learned to recognize. "Jade, do you remember what you told me on our first case together?"

She thought back to that sweltering summer night when they'd been called to investigate strange disappearances in Goblin Town. Leo had been nervous, clearly expecting her to intimidate suspects while he handled the "thinking" parts of the job. Instead, she'd surprised him by methodically working through evidence and making connections others had missed.

"'Justice doesn't care about your species or your bank account,'" she said quietly.

"Exactly. And if someone's using void-magic to murder ambassadors, justice demands we find them. Even if we have to do it unofficially." He straightened his tie with the same precision he brought to filing reports. "Besides, I've been researching void-magic since you mentioned it. The theoretical applications are fascinating, but the practical requirements are—"

"Terrifying?" Jade suggested.

"I was going to say 'impossible under normal circumstances,' but terrifying works too." His smile faded. "Which means whoever did this has access to resources and knowledge that shouldn't exist. That's not going away just because Reeves filed the right paperwork."

Jade felt something she rarely experienced: hope. In a world that seemed determined to crush anyone who didn't fit neatly into predetermined categories, Leo Vance stood out as someone who judged people by their actions rather than their appearance. It was naive, perhaps, but it was also precisely what she needed right now.

"Alright," she said. "But we do this smart. No official resources, no backup, and if things go sideways, you walk away. Deal?"

"Deal. So where do we start?"

Jade considered their options. The official investigation was dead, Morrison would probably bury any physical evidence, and the Elven Spire had enough political clout to make uncomfortable questions disappear. But there was one avenue the brass would never think to close off—the same network of informants and outcasts that had taught her to survive long before she'd ever worn a badge.

"The Troll Warrens," she said. "If void-magic components are being moved through this city, someone down there will know about it."

Leo's expression brightened with the enthusiasm he showed whenever they ventured into Everglow's more exotic neighborhoods. "The underground markets? I've read about them, but I've never actually—"

"Leo." Jade's tone stopped him mid-sentence. "The Warrens aren't a tourist attraction. They're not going to like me being there, and they're definitely not going to like you being there. These aren't the civilized trolls who work in construction or city maintenance. These are the ones who never left the old ways behind."

"Because you're half-human?"

"Because I'm a cop." She started walking toward her car again. "But there's someone down there who owes me a favor. If anyone knows about void-magic trafficking, it'll be Granak the Fence."

---

The descent into the Troll Warrens began at a maintenance entrance three blocks from the financial district. What looked like a simple subway access point actually led to a network of tunnels that predated human settlement in the region. Here, beneath the gleaming towers and magical infrastructure of modern Everglow, the old world persisted in all its brutal glory.

Jade led the way down rusted metal stairs that groaned under their weight. The air grew thicker with each step, heavy with the scent of unwashed bodies, cooking meat, and something else—something wild and primal that made Leo wrinkle his nose.

"Is that...?"

"Troll musk," Jade confirmed. "Fair warning—don't stare, don't touch anything unless I say it's okay, and if someone challenges me, let me handle it. Down here, showing weakness gets you killed."

The stairs ended at a heavy door marked with symbols that seemed to shift and writhe in the dim light. Jade pressed her palm against the largest rune, and the door swung open with a grinding sound that echoed through the tunnel beyond.

The Troll Warrens spread out before them like a fever dream of urban decay and primitive magnificence. Massive tunnels carved from living rock stretched in all directions, their walls decorated with crude but powerful artwork that told the history of a people older than human civilization. Bioluminescent fungi provided patches of sickly green light, supplemented by the occasional magical torch that flickered with unnatural colors.

Trolls of every size and description moved through the tunnels with purpose. Some were nearly as large as the legendary giants of old, their skin thick as tree bark and marked with ritual scars. Others were smaller, more human-like, but all shared the characteristic features that marked Jade as one of their blood: the grey-tinged skin, the enhanced musculature, the slightly elongated canines.

"My God," Leo whispered, pulling out a small notebook. "The architectural principles alone are revolutionary. Look at those support structures—they're grown, not built. And the social organization patterns..."

"Put the notebook away," Jade hissed. "You look like an anthropologist studying zoo exhibits."

They made their way deeper into the warren, following a main thoroughfare that bustled with activity despite the early hour. Vendors hawked everything from exotic meats to illegal magical components, their voices creating a constant background hum that mixed with the sound of distant machinery and running water.

Jade navigated the crowd with the confidence of someone who belonged, but she could feel eyes following their progress. Whispers in the old tongue followed in their wake—words she understood all too well. Half-breed. Traitor. Cop.

"There," she said, pointing to a storefront carved directly into the tunnel wall. "Granak's place."

The shop looked like organized chaos—shelves and tables loaded with an impossible variety of objects that ranged from mundane electronics to items that hurt to look at directly. Granak himself sat behind the counter, a troll of middling size whose skin showed the deep scarification of a warrior-merchant. His small, intelligent eyes fixed on Jade as they approached.

"Well, well," he said in accented English. "Little Jade comes home at last. And brings a pet human, I see."

"Hello, Granak." Jade kept her voice level, respectful but not subservient. "I need information."

"Information costs extra these days. Especially for those who wear the badge of our oppressors." But his tone was more amused than hostile. "What kind of information?"

"Void-magic components. Someone's been working with the real deal, not just parlor tricks."

Granak's expression grew serious. Around them, the shop's other patrons began to edge away, suddenly finding reasons to be elsewhere. Even here, in the heart of the magical black market, void-magic was spoken of in whispers.

"That's dangerous talk, little one. The kind that gets people disappeared."

"Someone's already been disappeared," Jade replied. "An elven ambassador. Carved up with void-runes and left to send a message."

The troll fence leaned forward, his scarred hands folding on the counter. "And you think this concerns us how?"

"Because whoever did it has resources. Real resources. The kind that come from serious backing, not some amateur playing with forces they don't understand." Jade met his eyes directly. "If they're sourcing components through the Warrens, you'd know about it."

Granak was quiet for a long moment, his gaze shifting between Jade and Leo. Finally, he nodded toward a curtained alcove at the back of his shop.

"Come. But your human stays here."

"Leo comes with me or we don't talk."

"Jade," Leo said quietly, "it's okay. I'll wait—"

"No." Her voice carried an edge of steel that made several nearby trolls look up with interest. "We're partners. Where I go, he goes."

Granak's scarred face split into what might have been a grin. "Still got that stubborn streak, I see. Very well. But if your pet human causes trouble, I feed him to the tunnel rats."

The alcove beyond the curtain was lit by a single magical flame that cast dancing shadows on the walls. Granak settled onto a cushion clearly designed for his bulk, while Jade and Leo took places on smaller seats across from him.

"Three days ago," the fence began without preamble, "someone approached one of my... suppliers. Wanted to buy a complete void-magic ritual kit. Not components—a full setup, including the containment circles and focusing crystals."

Leo leaned forward. "That's impossible. Void-magic requires materials that don't exist in this reality."

Granak's laugh was like gravel in a cement mixer. "Smart human. You're right—they don't exist here. But there are ways to... encourage... their manifestation. Dangerous ways. Expensive ways."

"Did your supplier sell?" Jade asked.

"He tried. But whoever was buying had very specific requirements. They wanted materials that had been... consecrated... in troll blood. Old troll blood. The kind that flows in the veins of the first families."

Understanding hit Jade like a physical blow. She looked down at her hands, seeing for the first time not just her grey-tinged skin but the heritage it represented. Her mother had been human, but her father...

"They wanted someone like me," she said quietly.

"Not someone like you, little one. They wanted you specifically. The buyer knew your name. Knew your lineage. Knew that you carried the blood of Thorgak the Mountain-Render."

The name hit Leo like a thunderbolt. Even his limited knowledge of troll genealogy included the legendary warrior who had supposedly been able to channel raw magical force through his body without suffering the usual fatal consequences.

"What did your supplier tell them?" Jade asked.

"Nothing, at first. But then they made an offer he couldn't refuse." Granak's expression darkened. "They gave him a sample of what they were working with. Void-dust. Pure void-dust, the kind that hasn't been seen since the Reality Wars."

"Where is he now?"

"Dead. Found him yesterday morning with his soul carved out through his eyes. Same as that elf ambassador, I'd wager."

The shop's main area erupted in shouts and the sound of breaking glass. Granak was on his feet instantly, moving with surprising speed for someone his size. "Clan Ironspine," he growled. "They've been watching for you."

Through the curtain, Jade could see a group of massive trolls smashing their way through Granak's merchandise. These weren't the civilized underground merchants—these were the old breed, the ones who still believed in settling disputes with fang and claw.

"Jade Hawkins!" The largest of them, a behemoth whose skin looked like hammered metal, pointed directly at her. "Half-breed abomination! You bring shame on troll blood!"

"Wonderful," Jade muttered, then raised her voice. "Garok Ironspine. Still compensating for your tiny brain with displays of muscle, I see."

The insult had the desired effect. Garok roared and charged, his massive fists swinging toward her head. But Jade was no longer the scrappy orphan who'd fled the Warrens years ago. She was a trained detective with access to both human technique and troll strength.

She ducked under his swing and drove her fist into his solar plexus, feeling ribs crack under the impact. Garok doubled over, gasping, and she followed up with an uppercut that lifted him off his feet and sent him crashing into a display of magical crystals.

"Leo, move!" she shouted as two more trolls converged on their position.

Her partner scrambled behind the counter while Jade faced her attackers. The confined space worked in her favor—the larger trolls couldn't use their size advantage, and her police training gave her an edge in close-quarters combat.

The first attacker swung a meaty fist at her head. She caught his wrist, twisted, and used his own momentum to send him face-first into the stone wall. The second was smarter, trying to grapple her, but Jade drove her knee into his midsection and followed up with an elbow strike that dropped him to the floor.

But there were more of them, and the space was getting crowded. Jade felt the familiar red haze beginning to descend—the berserker rage that was her inheritance from Thorgak's bloodline. It would make her stronger, faster, more dangerous.

It would also make her lose control.

"Jade!" Leo's voice cut through the battle-fury. "The back exit!"

She grabbed him by the arm and they ran, smashing through Granak's rear door and into the maze of service tunnels beyond. Behind them, the sound of pursuit echoed off stone walls—heavy footsteps and angry bellowing that promised violence if they were caught.

"This way!" Jade led them through a series of turns that took them deeper into the warren. Her enhanced senses let her navigate in near-darkness, but she could hear Leo stumbling behind her.

They emerged into a wider tunnel, one of the main arteries that connected different sections of the underground city. Here, the pursuit sounds faded—even Clan Ironspine wouldn't risk a major disturbance in a public area.

"Are you okay?" Jade asked, checking Leo for injuries.

"I'm fine." He straightened his jacket with shaking hands. "That was... intense. I've never seen you fight like that before."

There was something in his voice—not fear, exactly, but a new awareness of what she was capable of when pushed. Jade felt the familiar shame that came with losing control, with letting others see the monster that lived beneath her civilized exterior.

"I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Don't apologize." Leo's voice was firm. "You saved our lives. But Jade... that level of strength, that speed... I've read about troll berserker rages, but seeing it firsthand..."

"Makes you realize what you're partnered with?" The words came out more bitter than she'd intended.

"Makes me realize why someone with access to void-magic might specifically want your blood." He met her eyes directly. "Granak was right, wasn't he? This isn't random. Someone's targeting you specifically because of what you are."

They walked through the tunnels in silence, making their way back toward the surface and the familiar world of human bureaucracy and electric lights. But the darkness they'd uncovered in the Warrens followed them, a shadow that promised this was only the beginning.

As they climbed the rusted stairs toward street level, Jade's mind raced through the implications. Someone with void-magic capabilities wanted her blood. The same someone who'd killed Ambassador Moonwhisper and Granak's supplier. The same someone who'd whispered her name through a corpse's lips and left her badge number at a crime scene.

She was being hunted. And now Leo was in danger too, simply for standing by her side.

The city lights seemed harsh after the bioluminescent glow of the Warrens, but they offered no comfort. Somewhere in Everglow's sprawling metropolis, a killer with cosmic powers was preparing their next move.

And Detective Jade Hawkins was running out of places to hide.