"Half the town goes bankrupt within a month," Calla finishes quietly. "And Selwyn gets to play savior while buying up everything that matters."
Thornak steps forward, his weathered face grim. "They tried to contest Maddie's inheritance. Been working the angles longer than any of us realized."
A heavy silence settles over the room. We've solved the mystery, but the solution feels impossibly far away. Three days until festival opening, with critical supplies still missing and no clear way to restore them in time.
Jamie clears his throat. "Actually, I know exactly what to do."
We all turn to stare at him. He's been quiet through most of this, diligently taking notes and organizing information, but now he looks directly at Calla with something approaching determination.
"My mother sits on the Harvest Valley Guild Council."
Calla's eyebrows rise. "Jamie, why didn't you?—"
"Because I wanted to earn my place here on merit, not connections." His voice carries quiet conviction. "But this isn't about my career anymore. The Guild Council has authority over trade routes, supply chains, and commercial disputes across the entire valley. They can seize goods, halt operations, and investigate fraud allegations."
The pieces click into place immediately. External authority that can act fast enough to matter.
Thornak is already turning toward the door. "Get in the wagon. All of you."
"Jamie, are you certain your mother will—" Calla begins.
"She will." Jamie's jaw sets with surprising steel. "She has to."
We gather papers quickly, stuffing evidence into leather satchels. Calla locks the Whistle behind us, and within minutes we're all crowded into Thornak's wagon—Calla beside me, Jamie across from us, Thornak driving with grim purpose toward the main road.
As the wagon wheels find their rhythm on the cobblestones, I glance at Calla's profile in the lantern light. Her expression carries the same determination I've seen throughout this investigation, but something else underneath—confidence, maybe. Trust.
I'm not expecting things to go wrong. I'm expecting them to work.
CHAPTER 28
BRAKKOR
The Harvest Valley Guild Hall rises from the hillside like something carved from the earth itself—massive stone blocks fitted together with dwarven precision, trade sigils etched deep into archways that have weathered decades of valley storms. Ward stones pulse with soft blue light at the entrance, scanning each visitor before allowing passage.
Jamie leads us through corridors lined with tapestries depicting regional trade routes, his usual uncertain energy replaced by something steadier. He moves with purpose here, shoulders straight, chin lifted. The transformation is striking—less like the eager junior reporter scrambling to keep up, more like someone who belongs in halls of authority.
"Different here," I murmur to Calla as we follow him deeper into the building.
"He knows exactly where he's going." She watches Jamie navigate turns without hesitation. "Look at his posture. This is his world."
Double doors carved with interlocking guild symbols open into a chamber that breathes authority. Scrolls cascade from floor-to-ceiling shelves, ledgers stack in precise towers, and floating magical tablets display constantly updating traderecords—shipment routes shifting like living maps, commodity prices flickering as they adjust across the valley.
Behind an imposing oak desk sits a woman who could only be Jamie's mother. She possesses his bright eyes and quick intelligence, but wrapped in layers of composure that speak to decades of navigating guild politics. Her graying hair is pulled into an elegant knot, and her fingers move across multiple documents simultaneously while maintaining perfect attention to our arrival.
"Mother." Jamie's voice carries nervous formality. "Thank you for seeing us."
"Jamie." Her tone is warm but measured. "You mentioned urgency. Please, explain."
Jamie straightens, then falters. His confidence from the corridors wavers under her direct gaze. "There's been... we've discovered... the situation in Harvest Hollow is more complex than?—"
"Let me." Calla steps forward smoothly, and Jamie's relief is palpable. "Council Member Torres, we've uncovered evidence of systematic commercial fraud targeting Harvest Hollow's festival preparations."
Jamie's mother—Council Member Torres—leans back slightly, attention sharpening. "Continue."
"Multiple shipments destined for festival vendors have been rerouted through falsified documentation. Lumber has been stolen from registered landholders and resold through the same supply chains being disrupted. The pattern indicates deliberate financial pressure designed to force businesses into distress sales."
Calla's explanation unfolds with surgical precision, each detail building methodically toward the larger picture. She produces invoices, delivery records, and Thornak'sdocumentation of stolen timber, spreading them across the desk like evidence in a courtroom.
