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He spent most of his time teaching the History of Necromancy to students at the Academy of Science and Magic.
    He was arrogant beyond measure and every time we worked together we denigrated into arguments and petty squabbles. I couldn’t understand why in Hades he insisted on working with me whenever a case that needed his expertise came up. Luckily that wasn’t very often.
    I stopped on the second floor of the headquarters’ building to make a quick visit to the baths. I didn’t have time to go home and change out of my muddy clothes, so the best I could do is wipe some of the grime off my face.
    The entire floor was enveloped in soap scented steam. The morning rush on the baths was over and the washroom was empty save an attendant trying to clean up and a couple of cadets who were rushing to get dressed and to classes they were clearly already late for. I smiled to myself as the two girls ran past me, sliding on the damp floor on their way out. I’d been in their shoes a time or two when I had been a cadet.
    I caught a glimpse of myself in the steamed up mirror as I made my way over to a wash basin. My foul mood came crashing back and ratcheted up a few knots. I looked like an unwashed mountain rat! Mud was caked on my clothes and smeared on my arms, neck and face. And were those sticks in my hair? I reached up and picked one out. Yep, mud and sticks.
    “I have a tub available in the stall at the end of the row. Would you like oil or soap bubbles in the water?”
    I turned to see a small woman in a light gray bath attendant uniform looking at me expectantly. “Actually, I don’t have time to bathe and I don’t have any clothes, I just need to get some of this muck off of me.”
    A dismayed look crossed the woman’s face and she turned and walked away. I nearly laughed out loud. Obviously the woman thought I was a lost cause and wanted no part of it.
    I turned my attention back to the mirror and resumed picking sticks out of my mess of hair. The band I’d had it pulled back in had obviously came untied during my fight with the gang and now the raven black locks were in a massive tangle around my shoulders.
    “Here you go dear.” The woman’s voice startled me. I looked down and found that the attendant had brought a huge stack of cloth rags and soap. “You start on your hair,” the woman said, handing me a comb.
    “Thank you.” I said and did as I was told. As I picked out the knots, wincing, the attendant pumped water into the wash basin. She deftly dipped a rag in and lathered it up with soap. She held it out to me and pointed to a small chair she’d brought over.
    “Sit,” she said, taking the comb.
    I sat and began wiping the muck from my face and arms as the woman finished smoothing out my hair and pulled it back with a length of ribbon she’d pulled out of the pocket of her white apron. When she was through she took another rag and scraped as much mud off of my clothes as she could.
    Within five minutes I was as presentable as possible. I thanked the woman and left her two bucks. The woman smiled and blushed. Two bucks was a pretty large tip, especially since the Blades paid attendants well and one usually did not tip them as you did in a public bathhouse, but the woman had been kind and helpful and probably deserved more because I doubt I could have cleaned myself up as quickly or as well alone.
    I was hoping to be able to go straight home after my visit to the morgue, so I didn’t bother to get Mal. I didn’t have anywhere to stable him at home so he lived at the Blade stables. That had never been much of a problem because I lived barely a block away from the Blade Headquarters.
    The sun was starting to brighten and burn off the morning sun and the streets were crowded with people on bicycles or riding in hired rickshaws. Horses, mules and oxen were too expensive to use for pleasure transportation and were mostly used for hauling wagons full of goods.
    While convenient and faster than walking