The door chimed as a young woman stepped inside the store. She wore a cream-colored cloak, which matched her complexion and complimented her light blonde hair. Perched on her shoulder was a red-tailed hawk, the bird’s head on a swivel as it inspected its surroundings.

 

The woman perused the various display cases, her green eyes briefly meeting my gaze. She offered a warm grin before turning her back to me and heading toward the rear of the store.

 

“Good afternoon,” I said. “Welcome to the Red Lair Pawn Shop.”

 

She spun around to face me. “Hello, sir. I have to admit that it’s an appropriate name for your pawn shop. I don’t meet too many red dragons nowadays, especially ones who are business owners.”

 

I smiled. “Thank you. Can I help you find something?”

 

She nodded. “Yes. I’m looking for a small dagger.”

 

“I have several. Any kind in particular?”

 

The woman approached. Unlike my primitive ancestors, I stood on two legs instead of four, similar to a human. I watched the woman as she glided a hand along the glass countertop, her eyes wandering over the selection of blades. Then she looked up at me.

 

“One of my confidants visited your shop recently,” she said, “and he told me there was a unique dagger here. One with a ruby embedded in the pommel of it. But I don’t see it in your display case here.”

 

She was right. There wasn’t a dagger matching her description in the display case, but I knew of the blade she was referring to. I pivoted and glanced at the shelf behind me.

 

“Is that the blade you’re looking for?” I said, pointing a claw at it.

 

The woman followed my gaze, her eyes going wide at the sight of the dagger. “Yes! That’s it. How much for it?”

 

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, but it’s not for sale.”

 

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean? Isn’t everything here for sale?”

 

“Not necessarily. Some items are only for display. I have a fondness for them, and I use them to attract customers.”

 

The woman sighed. “You don’t understand. I need that dagger. It was used by someone to murder my husband, and I need it as evidence.”

 

I took a moment to ponder. “I’m sorry to hear that. When did this happen?”

 

“A few weeks ago.”

 

“How do you know this specific dagger was used to murder your husband?”

 

“It was owned by my husband’s brother, who never parted with it. He claims to be in love with me and threatened to kill my husband if I didn’t leave him, so it’s no coincidence the dagger disappeared after my husband’s death.”

 

“I see.” I held my tongue at first, but curiosity got the better of me. “Is this speculation on your part, or is your brother-in-law an official suspect?”

 

She huffed. “I know he did it. There’s no one else who would have wanted to bring harm to my husband. Everyone loved him. Except his own brother.”

 

I let out a breath, steam shooting from my nostrils. “I’m sorry. Unless a detective claims it as evidence in the investigation, I have no obligation to give it up.”

 

The woman pursed her lips and frowned. Then she perked up, an idea apparently coming to her.

 

“Would you barter for it?” she asked.

 

I deliberated, but only for a second. “I doubt it. I’m very partial to it.”

 

“Then what would it take?”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“There must be something you’d take in exchange for it.”

 

I shook my head. “I’m not interested.”

 

“But isn’t it true that dragons love gemstones?”

 

“Yes. Most of us, at least.”

 

“What’s your favorite?”

 

I didn’t even have to think about it. “Rubies. It’s probably why I love the dagger so much.”

 

“I have rubies,” she said, pulling a small bag from the pocket of her cloak. “How much does the dagger’s ruby weigh?”

 

I shrugged. “Maybe three carats. Why?”

 

“I’ll give you twice that weight in rubies.”

 

I didn’t reply.

 

“Come on,” she insisted. “How can you pass up an offer like that?”

 

“It’s not about the value,” I finally said. “It’s an ornate piece, and I can’t really put a price on it.”

 

The woman’s face turned red with anger. Then she took a breath and squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them again, her lips stretched into a grin.

 

That’s when I felt a tingling sensation in my head. It was something I’d experienced before.

 

“So, you’re a mage,” I said.

 

Her eyes narrowed.

 

“Persuasion spells don’t work on me,” I said. “I know when someone is trying to get into my head. Plenty have tried, but no one’s succeeded.”

 

A loud thud followed as the woman stomped the floor with her boot. The hawk flapped its wings in surprise, eventually calming itself.

 

“Fine,” she hissed. “I’ll be back.”

 

I watched as she stormed out of the shop. A part of me felt bad for her. Perhaps she was telling the truth, but I’d been conned by too many customers to just take her word for it.

 

~ * ~

 

When I returned to the shop the next morning, I was greeted by a detective. But not for the reason I had anticipated.

 

“Anders Kruse?” the half-elf asked.

 

He was slender with pointy ears, dark hair, and pale purple eyes. A brisk breeze kicked up, and the detective gripped his trench coat, pulling it tight.

 

“Yes,” I answered.

 

“I’m Detective Genfaren. A passerby spotted the woman inside and immediately notified us. Do you recognize her?”

 

I glanced over the detective’s shoulder, my eyes bulging at the sight. It was the female mage from the previous day. She lay lifeless inside the shop, a five-foot metal spike protruding from her back. My mouth hung agape.

 

“Mr. Kruse?” Genfaren said.

 

“Uh, yes. I’m sorry. This is just a shock to me.”

 

“Do you recognize her?”

 

I nodded. “She visited the shop yesterday. I don’t know her name, though.”

 

“It looks like the lock was picked clean. There are no signs of forced entry. And I’m assuming your security system was activated when she entered the shop.”

 

“Yes. I set it each night when leaving. There are pressure plates on several of the stone cobbles. If enough weight is applied, a metal spike rises from the floor.”

 

“I can see that.”

 

My eyes began to burn, and my vision blurred. The symptoms cleared a few seconds later, and that’s when I noticed something. It was no longer a woman inside. It was a troll with green skin, long limbs, and claws for nails.

 

“Something wrong?” Genfaren asked.

 

He turned and glimpsed the interior of the store. He couldn’t see the illusion, but I could.

 

“It’s not her,” I said.

 

His brow furrowed as he eyed me again. “What do you mean it’s not her?”

 

“It’s an illusion,” I elaborated.

 

Genfaren stared at me. Then, much to my surprise, he grinned. “I’ve heard some dragons can sense magic, and they’re also immune to it.”

 

I bobbed my head. “It’s true, and I’m one of them.”

 

Genfaren deliberated. “We’ve been thinking about employing dragons like you. You could really help with some of our magic-related crimes. Any interest?”

 

I mulled it over. “I’d be happy to help from time to time, but I have no interest in changing careers. I enjoy running the pawn shop.”

 

Genfaren nodded. “Fair enough.” He paused. “If this woman was willing to fake her death, that can mean only one thing.”

 

“That she succeeded in taking something,” I replied.

 

“Precisely.” Genfaren pivoted toward the shop. “Let’s have a look inside.”

 

I walked past Genfaren and pushed the door ajar.

 

“Loor fonmol,” I said.

 

A clanking noise followed, and the metal spike that held the troll in place slid back into the floor. The troll slumped over, laying on the floor now.

 

“What was that?” Genfaren asked.

 

“My native tongue. I use it to disengage the security system when I open the shop each day. I’m assuming you won’t divulge that information to anyone.”

 

Genfaren offered a weak chuckle.

 

I stepped inside, Genfaren following on my heels.

 

“Steer clear of the body,” he said. “I still need to process the crime scene.”

 

I did as he said. Perusing the store would have been a waste of time. There was only one thing the woman wanted, so I directed my gaze at the shelf behind the counter. Surprisingly, the dagger was still there. Or was it?

 

My eyes burned again, and everything around me turned cloudy. When my vision cleared, I circled the counter and approached the shelf, spotting two red rubies where the dagger once rested. I took a moment to contemplate, trying to grasp the woman’s logic.

 

She knew I could sense magic, but maybe she had doubts about whether I could detect all kinds of sorcery. If that were the case, it’s possible I wouldn’t pick up on her illusion spells. But if I did, at least I’d notice the rubies, and perhaps I’d consider it fair payment for the dagger.

 

But how did she do it? She could have talked a gullible troll into testing my defenses, offering the creature its share of the spoils if successful. But even if she was conscious of it, the woman would still need to elude the security system. And that’s when I remembered the hawk. It would have been able to avoid the boobytrapped floor.

 

“Everything okay?” Genfaren said, snapping me from my thoughts.

 

I debated what to say. I would likely never see the woman again. If she didn’t want to be found, I’m sure she had the ability to disappear for good.

 

I eventually nodded. “Yeah. Everything seems to be in order here.”

 

~ * ~

 

A few days had passed, and I was reading the morning paper when a headline caught my attention. A woman named Linette Clausen was mentioned, and there was a photo of her and her husband, Vidar. I immediately recognized her face. Linette Clausen was the same woman who visited my shop just days earlier.

 

I plopped down on my stool and continued reading. Apparently, a unique dagger linked Rolf Clausen, Vidar’s brother, to Vidar’s murder, and Rolf had been arrested. The Clausen family resided in Wexcommon, which was a few towns over from my home in Besir.

 

A breath escaped me. It was one of relief and satisfaction. As much as I loved the dagger, the fact Linette was being truthful with me helped ease the loss of it. And if the authorities had needed to confiscate the dagger from the very beginning, I would have been forced to give it up for nothing. So, Linette’s parting gift was more than a fair trade.

 

A toothy smile stretched across my face. “Thank you, Linette,” I said under my breath. “I hope you get the justice you deserve.”

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