While there were viable points to what Amelia was saying, there was something about the authoritative figure that worked up every nerve in Katarina's body. She managed to not snatch the parcel out of the offering hands as she scowled. It was hard to be mad at Tali when Katarina herself had days a plenty of causing trouble. It came with the age, "Well, since Jo ain' *here,*" She emphasized the words and said them slowly, as if Amelia's brain was on the slower side, "I'll give this ta Tali's ma, an' she'll work it ou' fer ya, shiny?"

Two more packets emerged, these with Natalia Smith written on the manilla envelope. These were also handed over. "Well, someone needs to work it out, that is for certain. I have also taken the liberty of compiling all the assignments Natalia has missed since exiting class on Tuesday and another copy of the Student's Code of Conduct. She will need to have all the prior completed and have signed the Student Contract before returning to class on Monday." A glance back down to the card in her hand as she withdrew a pen. "Now then, if Mr. Smith is away, as you say... who shall I list as Natalia's guardian. Truancy is a punishable offense, you know."

She frowned slightly as the list lengthened and worsened, but she took the other stacks with little complaint. She pursued her lips at the question, knowing that she didn't another burden on Sianna, and Jules was also busy. "Ya kin pu me. Th' name's Katarina Smith. K-a-t-a-r-i-n-a."

Amelia was about to ask for 'relationship', but thought against it and just left it blank. "And your address? In case there shall be need for follow up?"

"I live righ' by th' theatre, a' 1463 Greenwood, numba 38. Ya kin fin' me there er here."

"Very well, Ms. Smith. I shall see the secretary updates Natalia's school file. Please tell her that I look forward to her prompt arrival in class Monday morning." A nod of her head as the satchel latched closed. With no other chit chat to make, Amelia Malcom turned on an orthopedically encased heel and started for home.

"Yeah, I'll do jist tha'." Katarina didn't offer any type of farewell as she turned around and shut the door again. Her mind was already whirling with ideas. Just where has Tali been? Amelia said Tuesday, but Katarina couldn't remember seeing her since the twins were born, or when she went to spread the news the other parts of the Smith family. She glanced up the stairs for the moment, but changed her mind and headed for the kitchen. She would wait to tell Sianna until after she woke up.

It was a slightly unusual sight, the finely dressed blue elf breaking bread with a younger, shabbier, and whiter-skinned elf at a Marketplace cafe, but in a city like RhyDin, slightly unusual was practically normal. Locke methodically ate the chicken salad sandwich he had ordered, avoiding the chips and pickle, while his companion greedily devoured the largest item on the menu, a Dagwood sandwich that seemed to consist of just about every cold cut, cheese, and condiment the restaurant had available. The ice elf didn't even attempt to engage the boy in conversation until he was done, maintaining his patience even after the lad had cleaned his plate and still eyed the second half of Locke's sandwich, chips, and pickle with unveiled hunger. With a grin and without a word, he pushed the plate towards the kid, who eagerly grabbed and immediately tucked into the leftovers.

He knew the kid as Tom, even though he also knew it almost certainly wasn't his real name. Locke didn't know much more than that, and he didn't pry. Most of the street kids Locke employed as his eyes and ears in the city he'd only seen once or twice, when he'd ?interviewed? and hired them. After that, he communicated with them via dead drops throughout RhyDin City's districts. He paid just enough to cover basic living expenses, with an additional reward if they came up with something substantial. There was also a safehouse, a small efficiency apartment tucked away in a faceless complex in the heart of the West End, in case any of his crew needed to escape the cold, the guard, or their fellow ne'er-do-wells. It was Locke's way of keeping tabs on the news that occurred below the radar of the city's legitimate newspapers. Now, it provided him with the best chance of finding Katarina's missing cousin.

He'd put in the request for information, with a description of Natalia's appearance, with each and every informant he had. Half the kids hadn't even bothered to respond to his missive, the other half said they hadn't seen or heard anything about her. It was out of desperation that he had sent word to Tom, his best operative, to meet face to face ? which he had never done since he'd started the group. He hoped, perhaps, that some of the old D'Vestavio charm could cut through the usual street kid resistance, that all-too-familiar urge to protect one of their own (if she had happened to run away). He didn't know if Tom himself was a runaway or merely an orphan, but he knew he had to try a direct approach, even if it meant risking alienating the young elf. Even if it meant buying him the most expensive item on the menu and still having to fork over half of his own sandwich. Even if it meant waiting for the boy to finish eating before speaking to him.

?So woddyer wont, Mr. Locke? I know you didn't ask me'ere to buy me lunch.?

Locke folded his hands and smiled his most beatific smile at Tom. ?Did you get my earlier message??

?Yes.? Tom shifted in his seat, trying to look past Locke, while the ice elf tried to maintain eye contact.

?Tom, you're the best I've got. Have you truly not seen hide nor hair of her? Have you not heard anything about her??

There was a long pause, as the lad grabbed his napkin off the table, wiped his mouth, and tossed it on his empty plate. ?I hoven't heard or seen nothing 'bout her.?

?Truly??

?Truly, Mr. Locke.? Tom glanced over his shoulder, at the bustling sidewalks and streets. Before he could even make the request, Locke waved him off with an upward flick of his gloved fingers.

?You can go now, Tom. Thank you, anyways.?

?Yer welcome, Mr. Locke,? the boy called over his shoulder, after he'd hopped up out of his seat and over the short gate that separated the patio from the sidewalk. Once Tom was out of sight, Locke pressed his index, middle, and ring fingers against his forehead and massaged his temples. Add her to the list of the disappeared, mate. At best, she's run away. At worst, she's brown bread.

He tried to name and number all the people he'd ever met and lost touch with, and quickly found the task beyond even his razor sharp memory. How could he remember each and every one night stand, each and every drinking buddy he'd met at the college bars up in New Northumberland, each and every classmate that had been in one of his study groups? He had lost touch with dozens of people, from the person who had sat next to him in his Intro to Evocation class at university to his last ex-girlfriend and her best friend. By now, the sensation was merely a dull ache, another in a series of pains that was easily tucked away beneath his emotional armor. But Katarina...to have two of her cousins seemingly vanish into thin air months apart? That struck him, more than he thought it would. It left him wondering why...

After a quick shake of his head to clear it of doldrums and daydreams, Locke reached into his pocket for the silvers necessary to pay for the meal and tip. He stepped over the patio fence, looking across the street at the wooden sign hanging over a rustic looking doorway: there was a portrait of a woman holding a mug of ale painted on it, with the words ?Mary's Public House? written below the picture. His eyes lingered on the sign, then the door, before he sighed softly and hailed a carriage back to New Haven.