Ambrosius and Nimona had almost two hours before their meeting with Meredith. In the rain. Nimona suggested they wait it out at the library. It was almost noon, and the study rooms would be filling up soon - they couldn’t risk not having one available. Ambrosius could think of a million things he’d rather do than wait at a library, but Nimona had a point. The library it was.

The cloak Ambrosius had brought was meant for style, not for keeping dry. He looked like a soaked rat by the time he pushed through the library’s massive front doors. As a fluffy dog, Nimona hadn’t fared any better. At least she could trot over to the women’s bathroom and shapeshift the water off.

“You going to dry yourself off, boss?” she asked, returning to the foyer in teen form.

Ambrosius looked down at his soggy attire.

“I don’t think I have that option.”

“Uh, hand dryers?” She pointed a finger towards the mens bathroom. “I’ll go reserve a study room.”

The hand dryers did precious little for Ambrosius’s clothes. He’d just have to deal with everything sticking to him for a while. At least his copy of the invoice and the packet of ash in his pocket hadn’t fallen apart.

Ambrosius sighed as he regarded himself in the mirror. Most of the styling product had been washed out of his hair, leaving it flat and limp. He combed it back with his fingers. Then he glanced at the hand dryer next to him. What if…

~ ~ ~

Nimona tried hard not to laugh when he got to the study room.

“So fluffy!”

“I know.” Ambrosius muttered and tried to brush his hair back more with his hand. It had probably looked better wet. “I got tea.” he said, holding out one of the two paper cups in the cardboard tray he was carrying. “You liked the stuff this morning, right? Earl Grey with milk and sugar.”

Nimona accepted the cup and took a long slurp.

“Yeah. Good stuff.”

Ambrosius smiled faintly. Ballister would have been happy someone else liked his favorite drink.

Ambrosius sat down at the study room table and pulled his phone out. Nimona snatched it away.

“Not today!” she exclaimed, pushing a holographic computer screen in front of him. “We’re not gonna wait around like cadets on exam day - we’re gonna get you cultured!” She clicked play on the video she’d pulled up.

“What—”

“SHH. This is a good one.”

The ‘culture’ Nimona wanted Ambrosius to experience was one of those subversive movies that The Institute had banned from wide release. Ambrosius got even more tense the moment he realized it. He would have told Nimona to turn it off... but once he noticed no one could see them through the patterned glass wall, his curiosity got the better of him and he let it play.

He could see why the movie had been forbidden at The Institute - the story was about a man who’d been falsely imprisoned, and it painted the knights guarding the prison as cruel and the prison itself as squalid. Ambrosius tried to point out the unrealism, only to get a ‘how would you know’ and ‘sh, this is a good part’ from Nimona.

It… was a good movie though. The music was ominous, the camera work was smart, and Ambrosius was surprised to see the actor had actually shaved his head and starved himself to fit the story. And the tension - you could cut it with a knife! Ambrosius watched as the prisoner began to set his escape plan into motion, and…

Loud, jarring music beat through the room’s speakers as waves of bright color splashed across the screen. Ambrosius jumped, startled. Nimona glared at the screen.

“Grrr… I HATE mid-movie ads!”

Ambrosius blinked. This felt familiar…

“Luscious locks! For the luscious you!” Golden hair filled the screen, then zoomed out to reveal the Ambrosius of several years prior holding a shampoo bottle.

“NO NO NO! SKIP! SKIP IT!”

“I can’t! It’s an unskippable ad!”

Ambrosius groaned as he watched himself proclaim the merits of whatever shampoo company had paid him that time. His hair had been longer then - long enough to pull back into a bun and stay within academy regulations.

“Aww, you looked good with long hair!” Nimona said, “Why’d you ever cut it?”

“Ugh. The Institute wanted a more ‘disciplined’ look for my graduation year.”

“You call that disciplined?”

“Hey I’m lucky they let me keep this!”

Nimona snorted.

“Well now that you’ve graduated, you gonna do something else with it?”

“I don’t know. Depends on what The Institute wants.”

Nimona crossed her arms.

“Well if you could have your hair any way you wanted, what would you pick?”

Ambrosius had to think for a moment.

“I don’t know… I did like it long.”

“Still blond?”

Ambrosius laughed.

“It’s been so long, I don’t think I can picture myself with dark hair.”

“Yeah? How about this then?”

In a flurry of pink sparkles, Nimona transformed into… him. Ambrosius blinked. It was like looking into a mirror. There he was; his mother’s eyes, his father’s build, and dark, silky hair pulled back into a ponytail.

Nimona cocked an eyebrow.

“So? How do you look?”

Ambrosius stared.

“… Real.”

It was at that moment the study room door opened and Meredith Blitzmeyer arrived. She stopped when she saw two Ambrosiuses. Nimona gave a grin and shifted back to her teen form. Meredith opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. Then she held her hands up.

“I saw nothing.”

Nimona paused the movie screen and pushed it away as Meredith set her laptop on the table. The laptop screen flickered on.

“You have my storage key, right?” Meredith asked cautiously.

Ambrosius reached into his pocket and set the key on the table in front of him.

“The emails first.”

“Right. Emails…” It only took a moment for her to pull up the subject of their meeting. “The first email came several weeks ago - a special order for a power source that could fit into a narrow space and release all of its energy at once. A controlled explosive for deep mining, it’d said.”

Ambrosius’s eyes skimmed over the email. It was from a ‘Fodere’ of ‘Mansley Mining’ - a self-described startup company.

Meredith continued, “I’ve engineered mining equipment before, so I didn’t think it unusual. They paid my asking price too, no negotiating. It all seemed legitimate.” She clicked to the next email, showing the schematics of the blaster. “I completed a final version for approval. Then they sent the sword to the lab, saying to install the power source inside, for ‘ceremonial’ use in their new mine. I thought it was suspicious, and then one of my assistants recognized the sword.” She scrolled down further, showing the final emails. “I tried asking Fodere followup questions before I reported it to Security. I- I thought it would be helpful to the case. I didn’t think…” Meredith paused and rubbed a hand under her glasses.

Ambrosius scanned the exchange. This ‘Fodere’ hadn’t given any additional information, just requests to finish quickly, and that they couldn’t postpone opening the mine.

Nimona leaned over Ambrosius’s shoulder.

“Who uses ‘prithee’ in an email?” she asked, reading alongside. “That’s like, archaic.”

“High-upper-class people do.” Ambrosius mused, “I’ve even heard The Director say it a few times.” It wasn’t a word Ballister would have used. “Whoever wrote these emails doesn’t mingle with commoners.”

It made sense - the vocabulary, the money involved - the perpetrator had to be a noble. Not that it narrowed things down much, but it at least ruled out a terrorist uprising. There would be a possible motive for framing Ballister then too - not wanting a commoner among the pure-blood ranks.

“When was the lab fire again?”

“The day before the knighting.”

“So this ‘Fodere’ got impatient, since he needed the sword the next day.”

Meredith buried her face in her hands.

“I should have just done it. The queen died anyway. My assistants didn’t need to die too.”

There was an awkward silence. Ambrosius tried to move on.

“Why the fire though? He could have just stolen the sword and blaster and put them together himself.”

Meredith raised her head slightly.

“No he couldn’t have. The power source was delicate. The officials said the fire was caused by one of the prototypes spontaneously discharging and setting off the others, but I had too many safety features to keep that from happening inside the lab - someone had to have done it on purpose.” Meredith looked up at him. “He made my assistants install the power source, and then set off the prototype to burn them alive. I’m only here because I was sick that day.” 

There was a long silence. Meredith looked away.

“Can I have my storage key now?”

Ambrosius slid the key across the table.

“Forward me those emails.” he told Meredith, “And let me get a video of you saying what you just told me.”

Nimona leaned between them.

“Um, privacy much?”

“What?”

“Come on, are you trying to get her killed? The perp is a noble - that’s like, half of The Institute! How do you know whoever you show the video to isn’t in on the plot?”

“That’s exactly what the video is for - if something happens to her, it’ll be a backup.”

Meredith was looking uneasy.

“If something happens—”

Ambrosius held a hand up.

“It’ll be fine.”

“Come on man, this lady’s too valuable.” Nimona threw a friendly arm over Meredith’s shoulder. Meredith still looked uncomfortable.

Ambrosius crossed his arms.

“As a knight, it is my duty to defend against threats to The Kingdom at all costs. If there’s a traitor inside The Institute, they need to be found and dealt with. For the greater good.”

“That ‘protect the greater good at all costs’ mantra is exactly what got your buddy killed.”

Ambrosius’s jaw locked for a moment. Then he found his voice again.

“Well what else is there to do?!”

“We could post the evidence for all the Kingdom to see.”

“Posting it would cause unneeded public tension.”

“That’s a good thing though! Once the common people realize the ones at the top killed both their beloved queen and then one of their own for daring to rise above his station, they’ll demand justice!” Nimona jumped onto the table, “Then when the nobles claim special privilege and get pardoned, the people will revolt! Tables will turn! Buildings will burn! And we can throw off the shackles of the system and rise from the ashes in freedom!” she threw her hands out for dramatic effect.

Ambrosius looked at her blankly. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Part of him wanted to report her for apostasy, and the other part was sure she was joking and he just wasn’t getting the joke.

Meredith closed her laptop quickly.

“I think I should go.”

“Wait—” Ambrosius tried to reach for the storage key, but once again Meredith was quicker than he was.

“I don’t want to be involved with revolutionaries,” she stated, “I just want to be left alone.”

“We aren’t planning a revolution! No one’s going to revolt over this! Nimona’s just…” Ambrosius shot Nimona a look, “… jumping to conclusions.”

Nimona put her hands on her hips.

“How is connecting the dots ‘jumping to conclusions’? This could be the spark that dismantles the establishment!”

“Not if we keep this quiet.”

“Keep this quiet? I thought you wanted everyone to know your buddy was innocent!”

“Not if the peace of The Kingdom is at stake!”

“You mean your cushy job?”

Ambrosius's eye twitched.

“I mean we can turn the guilty party in to the Justice Department, and they can do whatever they see fit.”

Nimona looked like she had a witty response to that, but she was cut off by the sound of the study room door closing. Meredith was gone.

Ambrosius and Nimona looked at each other, then sprinted through the door. It was lunch hour and the library was full. No sign of their only witness. Nimona gave a long groan.

“So much for that...”

Ambrosius scanned the crowd, determined to not lose his only lead in proving Ballister’s innocence.

“We can find her again. I- I can find out where she lives. Then-”

“If she’s smart, she won’t be at home by the time we get there.”

Ambrosius gritted his teeth.

“Then we’ll stalk her storage unit or something. We can’t just let her escape!”

“Then what?”

“Then we find out who did this! You want to know too, don’t you?!”

Several library patrons shot Ambrosius glares for raising his voice.

Nimona crossed her arms.

“I wanted to know back when I thought there were other heretics involved. But this is just turning into some high-class drama without results since you’re so concerned about your high and mighty job. I’m out.”

She began to storm away.

“Wait, Nimona—”

But it was too late - she too had disappeared, probably shape-shifted into some other person in the crowd. Ambrosius stood in the study room doorway in silence. He’d just lost everyone he could have considered a friend. Again.