"Well, Miss Ford?" The Man in White did not even have the dignity of bags beneath his eyes. The circuit of tale and told within him would not allow for that. His fatigue was entirely mental, and that was only exacerbated by the dynamo that was his mind. His rest had been anything but. His dreams plagued him even during the waking hours. He longed for shadows and had only light.
Mary Ford shared Genny Tolleson's red hair but it wasn't quite as vivid. It curled no matter what she did, and tying it up just seemed to add an undue burden to all of the world's string. She wasn't nearly as capable or interesting an attache. Still, this was Burnie's Myrken, whether it be Glenn or Rhaena Burnie. Giuseppe would make do with what he had. "There was fire, and fire, and fire, and then there was tea. And the cup drawing with the letters. I don't know what the letters mean, but it was definitely a teacup!"
"Oh," he said with a little scowl, "to hear you think out loud. It's like the sound of doves fornicating. The first fire, yes? The spier one, isn't connected, likely not at least. The Constabulary will run in that direction on their own. Remind me to stop and see the Fae at some point though. Sometime next week maybe. It's nothing to look forward to. I'd send you but you'd probably end up seduced and the mental image of that is too chilling by far, you see."
Mary saw Giuseppe with visitors, with other inquisitors, around town. She was the only female he wasn't outright charming to. Sometimes, the facade broke. It had to. Unfortunately, it broke all over her head. "So what do you want me to do?" Sometimes, she knew, that was the best thing to ask.
"Have Tennant, Genny's brother if you don't remember, summoned." He didn't know. He couldn't know. He shouldn't act, not like this, not yet, not without permission, but he suspected. The fire had nipped his heels twice now. Twice. It had come back for him. It had eaten his shadows until they had no where else to go. He had no certainty but he had a suspicion. He could act upon it in two ways. "After I speak with him, I will go to fortify the teahouse. There's good reason to think it the arsonist's next target." And of course, fortify the teahouse was Myrken's most wonderful euphemism. "You're welcome to come, Ford. No? Alright then, get to it."
He waved her off dismissively and rubbed at his eyes. Damn this curse for not letting him look as miserable as he felt. Damn this energy for not letting him roll up in a ball as he wanted to. Damn Rhaena Olwak for most things and damn himself for everything else.