It was too late in the day and too early in the morning to be caught up in some bullshit, yet that’s exactly what was happening. It wasn’t uncommon for Lillas to be called for police work. In fact, all three active cleaners had at least one detective they were close to. But the cases they helped with were never tied to them. This case would be different. All nine of the city’s active knights had been murdered. The only people in the city even capable were Lillas and her two partners. If there wasn’t something at the scene that would exonerate them, they’d be wading through a swamp of shit.

 

On the way to the cabin, Lillas received a phone call from Isadora Castor, the most powerful and influential non-active knight in Guild City. Her power level was in a bubble, not strong enough to be made active, but far stronger than those beneath her. With the knighthood massacred, she was now the default leader of the 1,000-plus knights who lived there, which was why when Lillas answered, the first words out of her mouth where, “We didn’t do it, we don’t know who did, and if we did do it, we’d tell you because you couldn’t do anything about it anyway.”

 

“Does your arrogance know no bounds?” Izzy shot back, her perpetual annoyance with the young cleaner evident.

 

“No, it doesn’t. Now, if I’ve answered every relevant question you could possibly ask, I’m hanging up. I’m on my way to the cabin. If we find out anything, we’ll let you know.”

 

“You li…”

 

She hung up. Whatever Izzy had to say she could say tomorrow…to someone else.

 

Police and medics were everywhere.

 

Beyond the flashy things, authority figures, and all around weirdness, something else pulled Lillas’s attention. It sent times and tension across her skin. Power. It was faint at first and grew stronger the closer she got to the cabin.  At its peak, it wasn’t the strongest she’d felt, but it was enough to get anyone’s attention. It was raw power, not attached to anyone. It wasn’t knight, cleaner, vampire, no spectral that she knew. It was just there for no reason like a rock floating in midair.

 

“I knew you’d show up,” said an officer with a sneer.

 

Lillas looked him up and down like he was nothing more than a no-name, bitch-ass peon with the audacity to speak to her. She passed him, but then backed up. “Do you feel that?”

 

Confused he asked, “Feel what?”

 

“That power. You don’t feel that?” He had the nerve to look at her like she was the crazy one. “Pshww, this is why you’re a peon,” she snapped, then walked away.

 

“The cleaners are gonna pay hell when Izzy finds out about this!”

 

“HA! Please. I just talked to her.” She marched under the police tape and kept it moving. “She called me.  Do you even have her number? Weak ass knight. That’s probably why you can’t feel anything. Too damn weak.”

 

“Wait! You’re lying. I’m the first knight on scene and I haven’t had a chance to call Knighthouse, yet, to tell them. So, she couldn’t possibly know.” He walked under the tape and approached her. “Why are you lying, cleaner? Trying to give yourself an alibi?”

 

“First of all, Officer Whoeveryouare, I only lie when I need to and I don’t need to lie to you. You’re nothing. Second, I have a very solid alibi. Look at me.” He seemed to finally see how bloody and dirty she was. “Third…” She held up her call history for him to see. “Literally, got off the phone with her about an hour ago. Bye.” She turned and continued towards the cabin.

 

“It’s ‘Officer Womack’ by the way.”

 

“It’s not important.”

 

She meandered up the short flight of steps, the pull of power, light, and noise spinning like a kaleidoscope, dulling her focus. None of this should even be happening in this place. Everything about this scene was the complete opposite of the reality in which the Knighthood cabin existed. It was weird. The whole thing just felt weird and wrong.

 

Lenshrader opened the door. He was a tall slender man, who stayed in incredible shape, had skin the color of nutmeg, and always carried a commanding air. Lillas found him handsome for an old man. He had eyes that were deceptively kind, kind enough to disarm most suspects and make them hang themselves. It worked on Lillas a couple of times when she was younger. Now, she was hip to his game. He was called “Lens” both for his name, and also because his case-closure rate had made him something of a local legend. He saw and understood things most others missed, not just in evidence, but in people. He’d be running his own precinct one day. Then again, after 25 years on the job, if he wanted his own, he would’ve had it by now.

 

“You look like shit,” he said. “You just come from a cleaning?”

 

Lillas refused to answer that. Obviously, she’d come from a cleaning. Why else would she look like this?

 

“I’ll get you some help for that when we’re done. I’ve asked the CSI team to wait until you got here in case you notice anything that we…” She pushed past him, looking around, confused, not paying the detective any attention. “Um, what are you doing?”

 

She looked around the floors, the walls, but zeroed in on the ceiling. “There’s something… it’s stronger…” She walked past him and through the obstacle of bodies to the steps. Lens followed her upstairs where a team snapped pictures for evidence. The upper level was soaked in power. Pinpointing where the strongest concentration came from was difficult. It was like a broken compass needle, just spinning in circles.

 

Where? The walls? The floor? The ceiling? “Oh,” Lillas crooned, having a calm eureka moment. Then she frowned. There was nothing on the ceiling, but why… She reached for the ceiling, but couldn’t quite get it even in her toes and wiggling her fingers. She snatched a wooden folding chair from under a desk. The CSIs glanced at her, but said nothing. It was just Mik being Mik. Standing on the chair, she touched the unsanded wood. There was definitely something here. And there was a… She sniffed. She stood so close her nose almost touched and sniffed again. Lemon? Why would there be lemon? “Lens!” He joined get upstairs to see what she was yelling about. “There’s lemon in the ceiling. Why would there be lemon in the ceiling?”

 

“Probably lemon Pledge. It’s wood.”

 

She sniffed in different parts and noticed, “It’s not everywhere. It’s just here in this area.”

 

After conducting his own smell test, he concluded, “You’re right. Hmmm…” He rushed off and returned a few minutes later holding a good-sized blacklight. “Let’s get these lights off.” As soon as the lamps were off, he switched on the blacklight. Various versions of “Wow,” and “Oh my God,” were heard through gasps at different pitches even from Lillas and Lens.

 

On the ceiling was an emblem. A three-point star with each point made of the head of scythes. The scythes had long points that almost formed a complete circle. They sat inside a circle outside of which was some weird alien writing then another circle.

 

“What is that?” Lens asked.

 

“I have no idea.”