Viola glanced at the steaming plate next to her. The smells of roasted meat caused her stomach to rumble and her mouth to water. She knew Mudd had ordered it for her but a stubborn part of her didn't want to give him the satisfaction of eating it.
"... though I'm not sure about the claims that using a layering method for creating the spell would be any different than the normal matrix. Energy leaks out of the frame no matter how you put it in there, the very fact the stasis spell is arresting decay means it has to leak."
Mudd sighed and tapped on the table twice. "Naturally, we're going to see grifters going around the victim's families saying their way will keep the evidence clean as long as they hand over a few thousand marks."
She let herself be pulled into the conversation. "Don't you love *Emerging Wizardry*? A new crisis every other month. Unfounded theories in the issues."
An itch crawled down Viola's left arm. She scratched but it burrowed deeper into her bones. With a squirm, she twisted her hand a little to ease the discomfort.
Someone walked behind her and the itching grew more intense.
Viola didn't have to look up. "Good afternoon, Able."
Able sat down heavily in the chair next to her. His tall, lanky body seemed to slither underneath the table until his shoulders rested on the top of the chair. "How are you doing, Viola?"
"Fine," she muttered as she rolled her eyes. Making a big deal of dragging the plate over, she finally allowed herself to eat the first hot food in days, at least the first that didn't come delivered in a box.
"My coworkers are the best control group I have access to. You have to eat, you are willing to do so in my presence, and you understand why I record it." It was a long argument between them, which also made it comforting to bring it up.
All three of them bowed their heads in silence. He was right. None of them knew when they were going to die. As city guards, there was always a chance that someone had a personal grudge, or a trap spell was missed, or a violent prison escape.
Viola's scalp began to crawl. Next to her, Able groaned and twisted in his chair. On the other side, Mudd tensed and closed his eyes. Another mage was approaching, Wathin.
Neither Mudd or Able looked up. "Afternoon, Wathin."
Wathin planted his weapon, a spear crackling with spells, against the fence and used it to step over the points of the railing. On their side, he sank neatly into a chair while flipping his spear around to nestle it against his shoulder. It was a flashy maneuver that brought the bitter taste of his magic rolling over all three of the mages.
Wathin straightened his back. "Yeah, Honey, why don't you throw some big hunk of dripping meat on a plate, add some thick potatoes next to it, drizzle the whole thing in cream, and then feed it to me? I like it rare." He had a southern accent from his parents. It was just a hint of sounding exotic despite being born and raised in the city.
The waiter's mouth opened in surprise and probably an unexpected interest. It also meant that Wathin picked up on at least a curious interest in the other man.
"Yes, I did. I don't have many associations in my life and the ones I do have are precious to me. Friendship is difficult to establish, as you know. I am also concerned with your well-being but I'm afraid I'm poorly equipped to handle in a more effective methods in providing comfort or empathy."
The waiter came back with a platter. He handed a large plate with seven pieces of pie in front of Able. When he sat down the food in front of Wathin, he lingered for a moment.
Viola watched with amusement. Wathin was somewhat of a slut when it came to erotic partners. She wondered how long it would be until one of them was on their knees in the back room.
The woman sat down next to Wathin. "You shouldn't tease that poor boy."
Wathin shrugged. "Who says I'm teasing? I'm planning on heading right in there as soon as I'm done eating."
"Hello, Eulen," said Mudd.
Eulen favored him with a beaming smile. She was about his age, late forties or early fifties. She had blonde hair with white-tips, an easy smile, and eyes that looked like crystals. When she turned to Viola, her gaze seemed to pierce her. "How are you doing, Love?"
