Confounding Code

Captain Tolle hadn’t been pleased with the reports of the Circle spreading further across Westergras. She knew the missive she held in her hands contained proof. If only it made any sense.

Tolle had expected it to be in code. That didn’t surprise her. However, the code they had used made no sense. Slumping forward, she thumped her elbow on the desk and ran her fingers through her hair. How could she stop them when they communicated in pure gibberish?

Tolle did not consider herself a code-breaking genius. However, she wasn’t fool either and this baffled her.

Staring at the sheet, she stared at the two lines which, when translated, amounted to a child’s song. Tolle doubted even they could find meaning in this utterly meaningless statement.

Snatching the parchment, she paced across her room. Five steps, turn, ten steps back. Tolle crossed back in front of her desk.

That they’d gathered the missive from the runner had been a stroke of fortune itself. But this, this was impossible.

No. Not impossible. There had to be a cipher. They had to decipher what it meant. There was a way.

Or perhaps there was more she could not see.

Striding to her desk, Tolle held the paper before a candle, letting the flames warm it but not burn. She couldn’t decipher ash.

The paper remained stubbornly blank. If they’d used concealing ink, heat was not the trigger.

Magic then?

That made little sense. Westergras’s Circle disdained magic for whatever reason, but nothing else made sense. This wouldn’t be the first time a Circle’s appearance did not match their actuality.

Commander Tolle sighed, walked back to her chair, and dropped into the seat with weary resignation. She’d have to find a Strahlind wizard. If anyone could break the Circle’s spell, they would. And Tolle couldn’t keep floundering. She needed a break.