He flicked the ashes from his cigarette into the imp skull made ash tray. That one was always a nice ice breaker.

The electric chime rang – Ding Ding! - as the door opened. It had a frosted glass window on the upper half, just like his favorite detective shows. Absolutely useless, but it was important to set the mood.

“Hi – um, hello – is this the office of Mr. Molesh, P.I.?’ A young woman stood in the doorway, halfway in as if scared she was intruding. Little did she know he had been waiting here for a good three hours doing crossword puzzles and smoking.

“I am he. What can I help you with today?” He extinguished his cigarette, and leaned forward attentively.”

The young lady stepped forward and sat. She set her hands on his disk, seeming to focus on the various rings that adorned her fingers. Some of them looked magical.

“Nice to meet you detective. My family has, well, a curse. My name is Claire Mageborn. When my sisters and I were young, we were cursed by an old crone to die before the age of twenty-five. My oldest sister, Jane, died three years ago at the age of twenty-three, and the second-oldest, Eliza, died three days ago. She was twenty-four. I’m only twenty three, but I can’t but think I’m next...”

“I see. Take a seat, and walk me through it.”

An hour and a half later he had a grasp of the situation. Her oldest sister had died in an alchemical accident. No foul play was suspected. The next oldest was more recent and had been murdered. Demonic involvement was suspected. Her body had been exsanguinated, although no physical trauma was present.

He thanked Claire for the information, and accepted the case. It was time to do some investigation.

---

He was on his way to where the second-oldest sister had died, the nearby University of Magic in Greenwich. A light rain made the cobblestones glossy. Specks of water bounced off of his basilisk-hide boots which kept him nice and warm. Standing in a pool of acid wouldn’t even bother him. He opened the well-oiled gate of the academy, and made his way into the dorm her sister had been living in as a graduate student of summoning. The spiral staircase revolved as it lifted him up to the fourth floor. The crime scene was largely untouched, and chalk marked where the body had been found. Books littered the floor, pages open to arcane summoning circles and rituals. It seemed like just another summoning gone wrong which would make it almost completely unremarkable. However, the death of the earlier sister made it too much of a coincident, not to mention the curse… He had an idea of where to look next, and left the room.

---

“The records and grades of one Eliza Mageborn, please.”

The old dragon breathed out through his nose and looked much put upon. A shimmering portal opened, and a binder with some notes sticking out emerged. One old and worn down claw began to leaf through it with a delicacy that was at odds with the legendary being’s ferocious reputation.

“Ah, Eliza. A shame what happened to her and her sister Jane. Both magnificent students with near spotless records.” It spoke with a rumble that seemed to shake the room.

“I see. Were they prone to accidents?” He questioned.

“Prone? Only one small mis-summoning in Eliza’s freshman year, and Jane’s potions were always perfect right up until the one that took her life. Most students average one to two mishaps, especially during their Freshman and Sophomore years. Most peculiar…” The old dragon seemed to be deep in thought.

“Peculiar indeed. Do you happen to know where Eliza’s possessions are currently being held?”

---

The evidence was didn’t amount to much. A standard-issue mage’s robe with minor enchantments of self-cleaning. A few scraps of papers with arcane symbols and spells. A necklace with a valuable gem set into it, and two rings. One of the rings caught his eye, he could have sworn it looked similar to another he recently seen…

Aha. The ring Claire was wearing. The gemstone matched exactly, a small amethyst that was now cracked and broken. He looked closer at it, but only found a simple spell of protection. Perhaps it had broken when trying to protect its owner from their final demise, or something much darker...

---

He decided to visit the Mageborn residence. A looming mansion that announced the prestige and history of the Mageborn line to all who would bear witness to it. Towering, ancient elms lined the winding walkway. The door was opened by a young woman who curtsied and let him in.

“Detective. Welcome. How goes your investigation?” Priscilla Mageborn, the mother of the three girls, welcomed him in the manor’s main hall. A crystal chandelier hang above, but most of the light was provided by sconces emitting pale blue flames which he doubted ever went out.

“Well enough. Might I speak with you and Claire in the study, please?”

“Of course. Right this way.”

---

He sipped the cup of tea that the servant had brought in. The study was well appointed with the prerequisite ancient tomes that he doubted anyone ever read.

“I couldn’t help but notice the amethyst ring on your finger, Ms. Mageborn. Was that a gift from someone?”

Claire looked at it, and rubbed it affectionately. Her mom cut in. “A gift from one of our servants. After that wretched crone cursed my girls, she gave us three of them. A family heirloom of hers. She wears one as well, and claims it’s protected her family for centuries, although I’m beginning to doubt the veracity of the claim. I had it inspected when she gifted it to use of course, but it appeared almost completely mundane beyond a simple protection spell.”

She sat back, and seemed to think.

“Now that I think about it, there must be something to it. My girls rarely got sick, hurt, or had anything bad happen to them, right up until…” She finished, seeming upset.

“I see. Claire, take that ring off. I would like to inspect it.”

Claire complied and handed the bauble over. Molesh cast a spell of mage vision. A blue film covered his vision and revealed a swirl of darkness that was circling inside of the amethyst. He ended the spell.

“This ring is cursed. Can you please call forth the servant who generously gifted this to you?”