Laien Military recruitment guideline 6.11.04/B stipulated that any candidate for the office of Ranger Deputy was required to have certification in Advanced Knight Training (AKT). Any personnel failing to meet this standard would have this application rejected or be dismissed if wrongfully appointed, per the decree of King Anthony Goldenroad.

There it was. Relief washed over Theodore. After hours of tearing through hundreds of pages and dozens of appendices, Theodore had found the loophole he needed. He tried to steady his shaking hand as he transcribed the finding in a formal letter of resignation. All he needed to do was present the envelope to one of the Bureaucracy Dome File Masters, and then he would be free.

The Governor would put up a fight, but it didn’t matter. The law was established after an unqualified squire volunteered for the position and failed to stop a major fairy riot. If the case was brought before the courts, legal precedent was on Theodore’s side. Nothing was going to stop him.

Hurrying to collect his things from around the cottage, Theodore shoved the sum of his life back into his two suitcases. He shed his Ranger Deputy uniform and put on a proper sweater vest and tie. The letter of resignation was tucked into his breast pocket. It was his ticket to the life he wanted.

Right when he was ready to leave, there was a knock at the door. Theodore kept quiet, wondering if the Red Caps had come back. A peek through the keyhole revealed it was only Oboe, who somehow looked even more excited than usual. Theodore opened the door with a sigh.

“Good morning, Theo!” She said, struggling to stand still.

“Hello Oboe,” Theodore said, frowning. “I told you not to call me that. I’m sorry, but I don’t have time for you today. I’ve important business and I need to leave.” He grabbed his luggage and attempted to maneuver around her.

“Wait! Please!” She held out her arms to block his escape. “I know you’ve got a lot to do, but that’s why I came! I was up all night thinking, and there’s something I want to ask!”

There was no room to squeeze past her. “What is it?” He said, pondering whether it would be prudent to make a break for the backdoor.

“I… Um.” The certainty in Oboe’s face drained away, and it took her a moment to rally herself. “…It’s just, yesterday was nice. I had a really good time.”

Theodore tried and failed to wrap his head around what she just said. “We almost died yesterday.”

“Well, yeah, that’s true,” she said. “That part was scary. But we helped those gnomes, and that felt really good! …I got to be useful, and I don’t get to do that very often.” She hesitated, looking scared. “That’s why I want to work here with you. …If that’s okay?”

Theodore squinted, growing more baffled. “You want to work here?”

“Yeah!” Oboe said. “You get to help creatures, and you get to be important, and everyone likes you and will even talk to you! It’s wonderful!”

“I appreciate your interest,” Theodore said. “But I regret to say I am not hiring at this time.” He tried to push past her, but Oboe grabbed him by the suitcase and planted her hooves firm on the porch.

“Wait!” She said. “I helped yesterday, right? I did a good thing! I can keep helping you! I can show you how to get any place in the valley, and I’m really strong, and I promise not to mess up! Please? If I mess up you can throw me away!”

Theodore tugged at his suitcase, but he lacked the strength to yank it free of the faun’s rigid grip. She stared at him with big pleading eyes.

“I can’t hire you!” Theodore said, growling.

“Why not?” Her ears drooped. “What’s wrong with me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you!” He said, pulling with all his strength. “I don’t need an assistant! I’m quitting!”

Oboe let go of the suitcase, and Theodore fell to the ground in a heap.

“What?” Her face went slack. “You’re leaving?? Why would you leave? No! You can’t leave! Please don’t leave! We need you here! Who’s going to be the Ranger Deputy??”

“Someone else,” Theodore said. He stood up and brushed himself off. “My assignment here was a mistake, but I trust my replacement will be more than capable of serving your needs. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”

Before Theodore could escape, Oboe picked him up by the waist and hauled him back inside the cottage with his legs kicking in the air. “You just got here!” She said, sitting him down at his desk. “It was months before the king sent a new Ranger Deputy! What are we supposed to do without you? Who’s going stop Silas?!”

Theodore sprang back to his feet. “What do you want me to do? Look at me!” He flapped his hands at his scrawny body. “I’m not a knight! I’m a clerk! I can’t fight that maniac! He’d kill me! There’s nothing I can do!!”

Oboe looked away, her lips tight. “When you came here, you said the Ranger Deputy doesn’t have to fight anybody.” Her eyes came into focus as she spotted something. She bent down, and picked the Ranger Deputy badge off the floor. “You said you could help us without having to slay creatures. That…” She looked him in the eye and began to tear up. “That sounded wonderful. I want a Ranger Deputy like you.”

Theodore felt a slap of guilt. He never meant to get anyone’s hopes up. All he wanted was a quiet life of study, one where he didn’t have to kill or run the risk of being killed. His fingers curled into a fist. Governor Farbend forced him into this situation, and Oboe was trying to force him to stay. No one was going to tell him what to do with his life. “This isn’t where I belong. Whatever kind of man you think I am, that’s not who I am.”

 “What about Silas?” Oboe followed Theodore as he moved to leave. “The Red Caps are grabbing creatures all over and picking fights with humans! You’re the only one we can go to for help!”

That was a problem. Silas planned to seize the Fount, which would be considered an act of civil war. There was no way he could stop that himself. “I’ll report what I know to the city Knight Watchmen. They can raid the Red Cap hideout and put a stop to it.”

“No!!” Oboe pulled at her mane. “If you send knights, they’ll slay everybody! There’s lots of good creatures who joined the Red Caps for the wrong reasons! Like me, or Lemmy! They don’t deserve to die!”

“There’s nothing else I can do!” Theodore said. “Do you think I can reason with him or something? He tried to kill us! He’s dangerous!”

The faun stared at the floor, clutching the Ranger Deputy badge to her chest. “You could try.” She took Theodore’s hand and placed badge in his palm. “Please stay.”

Theodore scowled at the badge. He had forgotten to pack it, and would have gotten grief for failing to return it alongside his uniforms. Glaring at Oboe, he said: “No.”

A long, taut silence fell between them.

“Can we still be friends?” She said.

Pushing past her and out the door, Theodore started the long hike to put his time in the Whirlwood behind him.

The trails of the Whirlwood confused and misled. Theodore found himself looping back to the same groves over and over, and when he found dead-ends he would double back to find someplace new. It was as if the forest itself conspired to keep him. It was no matter. Theodore fixed his eyes on capital city, which sat high over the valley on its farthest rim. Whenever he lost his way, he peered up through the trees and marched toward the city like a beacon.

He emerged from the woodland, shabby and worn. The city walls loomed high. The watchmen raised the portcullis, and Lieutenant Fritz sauntered out with a sword in hand.

“You got papers to enter?” He said. “If not, piss off.”

“I’m sorry?” Theodore was startled by the watchman’s tone. “Lieutenant, we’ve met before.”

“I’m not falling for that,” Fritz said. “What you look like doesn’t count for much. You might be a shapeshifter. Maybe a bogeyman, or a doppelganger.” He waved, and a pair of archers on the wall trained their crossbows on Theodore. “If you are who you say you are, then prove it. Otherwise, get lost.”

Theodore felt a deep unease. After longing for home for so long, it was strange to be treated like a threat. He dug through his luggage to find his citizen visa. Fritz took his time checking it for spells with an adder stone: A small rock with a hole worn through the center that you could peer through to see past magical illusions.

“No offense meant, Deputy.” Fritz handed the documents back. The archers stood down at his signal. “Can’t be too careful. The creatures will try anything.”

“It’s fine,” Theodore said, even if it was not. “Is the Captain nearby?”

“Myra?” Fritz sheathed his sword. “Yeah. She’ll be drilling the cadets. I’ll show you.”

The gate rattled shut behind them as the lieutenant led Theodore to the barracks training yard. A large archery target was propped against the far wall with a crudely drawn werewolf on it. A row of trainees took aim with crossbows. With a click and a thunk, one bolt after another sank into the werewolf’s face and chest. Theodore thought of the sweet-tempered werewolf man he met in the Whirlwood.

Myra Redriver swaggered out onto the firing range in her armor like a roguish teapot. “Ned! Gracie! You’re both dead!” She said. “Go sit down!”

“But I hit the target!” One cadet said.

Myra laughed at her. “Yeah, in the arm! You think that’s going to stop a Red Cap? You may only get one shot. Aim for vitals!”

Theodore approached, clearing his throat. “Captain? Do you have a moment?”

Myra eyeballed Theodore a moment before recognizing him. “Ah, Grayweather.” She offered him a short salute. “Glad to see the creatures haven’t skewered you yet. What brings you back to civilization?”

“I have important intelligence to report,” Theodore said. “Can we speak in private?”

“If you like.” She led him inside the barracks, where she pushed open a door left hanging open.

Theodore froze at the sight of the Captain’s office. Papers were piled and scattered across every surface without rhyme or reason. Letters, report forms, requisition requests, newspapers, knives, and accounting sheets were all mixed haphazard. Several half-eaten apples were rotting in odd corners beneath layers of dust. He winced as Myra tipped a chair over and spilled papers all over the floor to make a seat for him.

“What have you got for us, Deputy?” She said, settling into her own chair

It took all of Theodore’s strength to resist the urge to start cleaning. He took a deep breath to focus.

“I’ve uncovered what Silas Jack is planning,” he said.

Myra did a double take. “You’re joking.”

“No,” Theodore said, annoyed. “He’s forcibly conscripting creatures to build an army. He plans to seize control of the Fount in order to cut off our supply of magic.”

“Damned devil!” The Captain swung onto her feet and paced her office. “If we could find the bastard maybe we could stop it before it comes to that.”

“You can’t find him?” Theodore said. “His hideout is in Crookhole Mine.”

She jumped. “What?! Where is that? What is that?”

“It’s an old magic mine, North of Gnomes Borough.”

Myra tore through her mess until she found a map, then swept everything off of her desk to make room for it. “Show me!”

The map was less useful than Theodore would have liked. None of Oboe’s landmarks were labeled. There were vague blobs listed as “Fairies” and “Ghasts,” and little else. Theodore knew the mine was along the base of the Upside Hills, but East of a Moss Tub Lake. He pointed to where it ought to be, and Myra drew a circle around his finger.

“This is fantastic!” She said. “Those book-head wizards have been trying to scry the location for months! How did you figure this out?!”

“I…” Theodore felt strange being congratulated for achieving the impossible. “I just asked where it was.”

She stared him, baffled, before laughing out loud. “Leave it to a Grayweather to actually get something done!” She wheeled him closer to the desk. “What’s your plan?”

He blinked. “My plan?”

“Yes! Your plan!” She threw open a locker and a pile of weapons fell out onto the floor.
“This is your jurisdiction. You’re the authority in the Whirlwood, so you’re in command of the raid. Do you need to borrow a sword?” She started piling blades onto the desk. “I remember you not having a sword for some weird reason.”

Theodore slipped out of his seat. “I want nothing to do with this. I’m quitting.”

“Quitting?” Myra frowned. “Is this a joke? You just started!”

“I’ve had enough,” Theodore said. “I’m entrusting this to you.”

Captain Redriver waited, as if still expecting the punchline of a joke. When it was clear Theodore was serious, she sighed.

“Disappointing,” she said. “I know it’s a shit post, but…” She held her tongue. “Well, at least you’ve done more for me than the last guy.” Myra flashed a smirk. “It’s fine. The Watch can handle this. Give me time to prepare and I’ll rally a strike force. We’ll swoop in and crush every last one of those Red Caps before they even know what’s happening.”

A sick feeling took root in Theodore’s gut. “Isn’t that a bit extreme? Silas is forcing innocents to fight for him. There’s no reason to kill all of them.”

“Starting to feel for the wildlife?” The Captain clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s cute, kid, but we’re talking about the safety of Laien here. The Red Caps are a disease. There’ll be no knowing who’s infected and who’s not. We’re stopping this before it spreads.”

Theodore slouched on a bench in the lobby of the Bureaucracy Dome and waited for his number to be called. He arrived late in the afternoon and was caught in the rush of people who put off their business until the last hours of the day. Dozens of citizens, young and old, noble and lowborn, rich and homeless, all sat shoulder to shoulder with listless resignation. Theodore had no choice but to wait. Light shining through the high vaulted windows crept across the floor as the day wore thin.

Theodore turned the envelope over in his hand and went over his plan for the hundredth time. He would present his violation forms to the Clerk Commandant and have him void the royal appointment. Once that was done he could finally concentrate on enrolling himself into the university. It was only a matter of time.

He fidgeted. Squeezing his palm, he watched as the people around him were called to the counter one by one. Dread welled up inside him as his turn ticked closer. Oboe’s words still rang in his ears and made him itch.

The knights would slaughter any creature party to the Red Caps, regardless of why they were there. Captain Redriver refused to take chances. Mercy would only lead to another revolt.

Oboe and Lemmy would be safe, but there were others who were forced to join the Red Caps. Some had reason to join, frustrated with how the city had treated them. They would all wind up dead. It made Theodore think of the promise he made Lemmy: that he would do what he could to help. But there was nothing he could do. Silas was a killer, and there was no way Theodore could stop him. Handing this off to the Knight’s Watch was the only responsible thing he could do.

For a moment, he was a child again. Somewhere deep inside Crookhole mine, he remembered being cornered by a wicked nymph and werewolf. His heart was pounding. He knew they were a moment away from killing him.

Then father came. The creatures screamed as they died, and the sound was worse than all the fear he felt before. Theodore left the cave with his father, but the screams came with him. They kept him company in the dead of night, and stayed with him when his father called him to train. He cringed, his stomach twisting into knots.

Silas was still a living creature. He was angry with how creatures were treated. Angry enough to kill. Was he just wicked? Or was there more to it than that?

“Number Twenty-Three Twenty-Two!”

Theodore stood up. That was his number. He staggered over to the counter and on the way realized he had crumpled his envelope in his hand. Shaken, he steadied himself and flattened it out again. The Whirlwood Valley was not his problem. If he was going to become a scholar, the city is where he belonged.

The secretary directed him to booth seven, where Clerk Commandant Silverstone looked up from his documents. He didn’t seem to recognize Theodore.

“Good afternoon, sir. What can I do for you?”

Theodore pulled the Ranger Deputy badge out of his pocket. He meant to surrender it with his violation forms. He stopped short.

“I’m Ranger Deputy Theodore Grayweather. I’m here on official business. I need full access to the creature records as part of an investigation.”

Theodore wondered what he was doing. He tucked his ticket to freedom into his pocket and pushed open the door to his old office. Work was piled high on the desks, with stacks of unfiled reports everywhere. Either the dome had failed to assign a replacement, or the person selected was incompetent.

“Theodore?!” Randall, his old co-worker, fumbled with an armload of paperwork before dropping it all on the floor. He looked relieved beyond words. “Does this mean you’re back?!”

“No.” He brushed past Randall and forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

Every citizen of Laien left a paper trail, even creatures. The corner of the archive devoted to creature records was thinner than the rest, and rarely accessed, but Theodore knew those records could tell him what he needed.

He pulled a list of all known members of the Red Caps from the Watch’s reports. Silas Jack and Glut topped the list. He did not recognize the other names, but they gave him a starting point. Theodore flung open one filing cabinet after another and fingered through, cross referencing with the practice of an orchestra maestro in the throes of symphony. Data piled up on the table, and then he dug into it.

Silas Jack had a laundry list of criminal warrants. Assaulting Knight Officers, resisting arrest, conspiring against the crown, sabotaging government property. It all started six years ago. Prior to that his record was spotless. Had something happened? There was an answer here, somewhere. Theodore spread the documents out, scanning and rearranging the puzzle pieces.

Before his criminal spree, the census recorded Silas as living in a place called the Hollows. A marriage certificate was issued fourteen years ago. He was married to another ghast named Scarlett. Both names appeared on a birth certificate for a daughter called Nixie. Were they part of the Red Caps as well? Those names did not appear on the list.

Silas maintained a city visa for decades. He paid taxes on a job as, of all things, a government employee. His job was transporting harvested magic from the Fount to the capital. Eight years later, he stopped filing taxes. Was he fired? No. That was around the time the train was completed. He would’ve been laid off. In place of an income, there were other government job applications, requests for haunting territory, and pleas for financial aid. Everything was stamped for rejection. Theodore narrowed his search to documents after this point, and that’s when he found the court case.

Scarlett and Nixie were charged and convicted with home invasion, burglary, and using haunting territory not assigned to them. Crimes of desperation. Both of them were sentenced to execution. Six years ago, the census noted them both as deceased. Two months later, Silas was registered as wicked for crimes of violence. That’s when he became the first Red Cap. Theodore leaned back. All the puzzle pieces were put together, and what they revealed was a tragedy. Now the anger made sense.

There were similar stories to be found among his accomplices. Glut the Terror was never allowed to enter the city for exceeding acceptable levels of monstrous appearance. The troll Dina reported that she’d been driven out of her home by humans, but there was no record of follow up from the Ranger Deputy. Rowan the nymph filed complaint after complaint that his work on government farmland was never paid. They were all the sort of problems the Ranger Deputy was expected to investigate, and yet they were not. The pattern continued, and then the Ranger Deputies started to disappear.

There was the solution. Theodore collected his notes and hurried, worried he had wasted too much time researching. Outside, the skyline had turned a golden amber. He raced out of the office, forgetting to refile the documents, forgetting his suitcases, and caught the first trolley bound toward the city gates.

After a restless ride, he climbed off the trolley before it came to a full halt. He ran all the way to the train station just outside the city. There was a skeleton crew of watchmen, and the train was gone. Theodore grabbed the first guard he could find.

“Where is Captain Red River?!” Theodore said, pointing his badge in the man’s face. “I’m the Ranger Deputy and I need to speak to her at once!”

The watchman pushed him off. “You missed her. She took every knight we could spare for a raid on the Red Caps. Come back in the morning. With any luck, she’ll have them all slain by daylight.”

Without the train, Theodore was forced to enter the Whirlwood on foot. He ran downhill, his mind prickling with every terrible possibility. Was it already too late? Had the fighting already started? Were creatures dead? Had the knights been killed? He passed through the tree line, feeling heavy with guilt. He had to act now before something happened, assuming it hadn’t already, assuming his plan was worth a damn. He shouldn’t have handed this over to the Watch. If only he had researched the Red Caps sooner, or faster, maybe he could have done something, anything.

The twisting trails wrapped back on themselves and sent Theodore racing in circles. Shadows deepened around him and the last red dregs of daylight bled from the sky. There was no time. Theodore growled in frustration as he looped back to the same crossroad, with the same oak tree, for the third time. He spun in place, wondering how anyone ever found their way in this damned place.

If Oboe were here he might have a chance. She understood the Whirlwood and how to navigate it. The problem was she could be anywhere. Theodore stood as much a chance of finding her as he stood finding his way.

But if she were here, what would she do?

Theodore looked up into the oak tree. “Hello?” He said. “Birds? Are there any birds I can talk to? I’ll settle for squirrels! Anyone, really!”

“What’s wrong with squirrels?!” A gray squirrel said, bounding down from the highest branches to glare at Theodore.

A nightingale popped out of a knothole. “Face facts: Birds are the best. Sooner you get that, sooner you understand how the world works.”

The squirrel hurled an acorn, but the Nightingale ducked. “Come out here and say that to my face, beak brain!”

Theodore waved for attention. “Please! I don’t have time for this! I need your help! Have either of you seen Oboe?”

They glanced at one another. “Who?” 

Theodore tried to describe her. “She’s a faun. Brown fur. Extremely excitable. She’s strong and can turn into other things.”

“Oh, her.” The nightingale said with a hint of distaste. “I heard some starlings gossiping. They saw her at the Boroughs and there was a whole horde of Red Caps following her.” 

“What?!” Was she in danger? “How do I get there from here?” 

“Oh, that’s easy.” The squirrel said. “I know a shortcut. If you go take that path on the left, turn right, then take another right when you loop back here, climb the hill and you’ll hit Gnomes Borough in no time.”

That didn’t make any sense. “Can’t I just take the right path now?”

The nightingale snickered. “Look at the hatchling. Doesn’t even know how the Whirlwood folds itself. What a loser.”

“Listen bub.” The squirrel flicked his tail. “If you don’t like my advice, don’t ask for it. You’re interrupting a busy schedule of nut collecting!” 

“Yeah!” The Nightingale said. “And I want to take a nap! Stop bothering us!” 

The squirrel leapt into the branches and the bird vanishing back down its hole, leaving Theodore with no option but to try.

The sky faded to murky twilight. Theodore followed the instructions of the squirrel, worried he was wasting more time. Sure enough, he found himself pushing uphill into the outskirts of the Gnome Boroughs.

“A human!!” Dozens of voices shrieked in unison. Rabbits, squirrels, foxes, deer, and gnomes all scattered to hide at the sight of Theodore.

“What??” Oboe came thrashing out from the overgrowth. “No! Leave the ferals alone! Don’t hurt them!” 

She froze, wide eyed when she realized who she was looking at. “…Theo?” She pursed her lips tight. She did not seem happy to see him. “You’re back? What are you doing here? I thought you left forever!”

“I…” Whatever explanation Theodore could manage slipped away. “What’s happened? I heard the Watch launched a raid on the Red Caps.”

Oboe glared at him. “A whole herd of knights poured out of the train a few hours ago. They stomped up through the North side and chased everybody out of the mine.” 

A familiar gnome peeked out from its hiding spot. “It’s you!” Lemmy said, and pulled himself up onto a rock. “It’s okay everybody! This human won’t hurt you!”

A few skittish ferals crept out of hiding, but most remained skeptical.

“What’s with all these animals?” Theodore asked. 

“They’re the Red Cap ferals.” Lemmy said. “Oboe brought them here.” 

“Silas just left them behind.” Oboe folded her arms. “I had to help them hide! The knights want to kill them!” 

Theodore was baffled. “Why would he abandon any of his forces?” 

Oboe motioned for him to follow. She led her through the foliage, away from other creatures, to the cliffside she’d shown him before. She pointed off into the distance. There was a camp, set up by the Watch, surrounding the Fount and lit up with bright red bonfires.

“Silas wants to hold the Fount,” she said. “He took all the ghasts and fairies who’d follow, but he left the ferals. They’re like humans. They can’t breathe magic. I guess he thinks the knights won’t pounce while they’re down there.” 

Silas went through with his plan after all. It looked hopeless for the Red Caps. They were holed up in a pit, while Myra surrounded them with barricades along the higher ground.

Theodore grimaced. “Silas doesn’t stand a chance. He’s outnumbered, bad. Captain Redriver is likely waiting for enough breathing masks to stage an assault. There’s going to be a massacre.”

Oboe tugged at the hair on her arms, watching as the stage was set below them. “This is what you wanted, right?” She looked Theodore, and narrowed her eyes.“The knights are going to slay everybody. Did you come back to watch them die?”

“No!” Theodore said, horrified.

The sun set. The shadows deepened, but Oboe’s eyes were bright in the dark. Behind her, the bonfires burned and smoke climbed into the sky. “Then why did you come back?”

“I…” Theodore hesitated. For the first time, Oboe looked the part of myth. She was a fey creature, something other, one of the wild things that once preyed on mankind in the time before the treaties. He remembered the wicked nymph in the caves so many years ago, how she argued with the werewolf for the right to hurt him. He stared into Oboe’s face, his heart wrenching at the memory of the swing of his father’s sword. He remembered the spray of feathers and a dying scream. He remembered the sight of the body, and feeling sorry that she was dead.

“I made a mistake,” Theodore said. “You were right. You need a Ranger deputy. I should not have left, and I can’t let this happen. I need your help to stop this.”

“My help?” Oboe was taken off guard. “What can someone like me do?”

“Stop that,” Theodore said. “I know you’re capable. If you can rescue the ferals, you can help me stop this. I can’t do this without you.”

Her gaze lowered, then hardened into a look of determination. “What do you need me to do?”

“I can’t afford to get lost, and you know how to navigate,” Theodore said. He stepped toward the edge of the cliff and pointed at the Fount. “Can you take me there?”

She stepped up, peering out, shaking just a little bit. “Yeah?”

“Quickly?”

She tightened her lips. “Yes.” She said.

“Then let’s go,” Theodore said.

“Okay.” She grabbed Theodore by the wrist and leapt off the cliff.

As Theodore plummeted toward the bottom of the cliff, hand-in-hand with Oboe, he took the opportunity to regret every decision in his life that led up to this moment.

Hurtling through the air, Oboe transformed herself. She took the shape of a gargantuan condor and hammered her wings into a glide. Theodore screamed as he dangled, her talons gripped around his belt. Somehow, Theodore caught his glasses as they fell off his face. Oboe swooped across the treetops at breakneck speed, angling herself towards the Fount.

“We’re too heavy!” she said, flapping as hard as she could to keep their altitude. “Hang on!!”

“What?! Hang on to what?!” All Theodore could see was a blur of motion until they tumbled through the tree canopy. Branches cracked under them, and Theodore shut his eyes as the ground rushed up to hit him.

After a few moments, Theodore opened his eyes to find out why none of his bones were broken. He fumbled his glasses back onto his face, and found himself hanging just off the ground. Oboe, a faun again, was splayed across the bough of an oak and holding him up by the scruff of his shirt. An entire battalion of knights was staring at them.

“Good evening,” Theodore said, swaying in the wind. “Ranger Deputy Grayweather. I need to speak to your Captain rather urgently.”

The knights exchanged baffled glances until the most decorated officer among them was forced to issue an order. “Fetch Myra,” he said, and a youth was sent running.

Theodore looked up at Oboe. “You can put me down now.”

“Oh! Okay!” She let go. He dropped onto his feet, unhurt, and she jumped down beside him.

“Fairy!” Someone shouted, and a dozen swords were drawn. Oboe backed away, frightened, and Theodore stepped in front of her.

“Stand down!” Theodore said. “The faun is with me! She is not a threat!”

The men lowered their swords, but did not sheath them. More knights marched onto the scene, wielding torches. Myra Redriver strode to the front, armored from head to foot in dented plate mail.

“Grayweather? I thought…” Suspicion flashed in Myra’s eyes. She turned to the officer with the most helmet plumage. “This could be a trick. Have you scanned him for spells?”

Theodore pointed his badge at the Captain. “Check me if you must! It’s me!”

An adder stone was passed around. When his face and papers were authenticated, Myra’s scowl faded away. “Surprised to see you back here, Deputy. Weren’t you quitting? Did you decide to come and watch the show?”

Theodore looked back at Oboe. “I had a change of heart.” He turned back toward the Captain. “Report. What is the situation?”

“We’ve got that blackguard Silas pinned down in the Fount. He thinks he’s safe down there, but we’ll have the last laugh. We brought enough breathing masks to launch an assault, but I’m waiting for more to arrive before I give the order. I’m not leaving anything to chance. We’re wiping the Red Caps out for good.”

Theodore shook his head. “No. Cancel that order. You aren’t going to attack them.”

Myra made a face like he called her mother a troll. “Excuse me?”

“There will be no assault,” he said. “Tell your men to stand down. I want to try talking to the creatures.”

It took the Captain a few moments to get over her disbelief. She swiveled to face the officer holding Theodore’s paperwork. “Are you certain this isn’t some sort of magic imposter?”

A quick double check. “Positive,” her subordinate said.

Myra wheeled around and leaned right into Theodore’s face. “Are you out of your mind, boy? We are dealing with outlaws. Terrorists! They’re dangerous, and they’re not going to listen to reason!”

Theodore felt himself tremble but steeled himself. “I want to try! No one has to die here!”

She bared her teeth. “No. Do you know how many men I’ve lost to these monsters? They’ve been trying to kill us for months! They’re wicked. We’re exterminating the lot of them before they hurt anyone else.”

“That’s not your decision to make!” Theodore said. “This is my jurisdiction!”

“It was,” Myra said. “But you walked away and left me in charge. If you want to help, you can grab a sword and fall in line.”

“I’m the Ranger Deputy!” Theodore pressed a thumb to his badge. “I’m the one charged to keep peace in the Whirlwood! By king’s law, so long as you’re in the valley, you answer to me! I’m talking to them!”

“They’ll kill you,” she said.

“If you have a problem with my plan, you can do what you want when I’m dead! Stand aside!”

Theodore and Myra stood in silence, locked in a stare off. After a breathless lifetime, Myra scoffed.

“Stubborn like your old man.” She moved out of his way. “Fine. Try your fool plan. When it backfires, we’ll be here to mop up.”

Theodore stepped past her. Oboe followed, silent and trying to hide behind him. Together, they walked toward the valley floor.

The heat of the bonfires fought against the chill of the evening. Behind the watchman’s barricade, wizards busied themselves preparing spells for the coming battle. Brittle shards of petrified magic were crushed by hand. The energy inside was shaped into spells and then tied to objects before it dispersed. There were feathers, and bells, and beakers of ichor brewing on burners. Theodore paused to watch as a university student conjured a great orb of fire into the air. It was captured on the wick of a candle and placed on a table alongside a long line of others. It was artillery for the battle to come.

The wall of knights parted to allow Theodore to cross the blockade. Rows of soldiers armed with crossbows stood along the high ground overlooking the Fount. Theodore approached the ridge, and already the air, so dense with wild magic, began to sting his eyes and throat.

Darkness pooled below. They stood on the rim of the valley floor, which was a deep basin of stone and rock. The sun was gone. The bonfires danced and cast shadows. It was difficult to see anything below except the soft ethereal glow of magic wafting up from the Fount’s wells, but something shined through the mist and the dark. Dozens of eyes were staring up at Theodore, in every shape and size.

Theodore wondered what he was doing here. Was it even possible to stop this battle? He held a brass horn in his hand, given to him by the quartermaster. It was enchanted to magnify his voice if he spoke into it. That was, assuming, he could find the words to speak. He raised the horn to his lips, his heart pounding.

“My name is Theodore!” He said. “I was appointed by King Stonewall to serve as your Ranger Deputy! I have come to speak to you all in the hope that no one has to die today!”

“We know who you are, little man!” The silhouette of Silas Jack stepped out from the mist. “Tell your king we are not afraid of him, his swords, or his spells! Come and fight, and we will show you!”

Theodore tightened his grip on the horn. “We do not have to fight! I just want to talk!”

“Talk?” Silas laughed, and pointed a claw. “I see six archers at the ready on either side of you! I see fire and blades! I see an army! If you want to talk, then do it without a weapon pointed!”

Theodore turned toward the guards. “You heard him. Disarm.”

The commanding officer scowled at him. “Those aren’t Redriver’s orders.”

“I’m giving you new ones!” Theodore said. “All of you! Either drop your weapon or fall back!”

A signal was given. The perimeter guards moved back behind the barricade, leaving Theodore alone and unprotected.

“Good!” Silas said. “Now come down here! Then, we can talk!”

“I cannot! The magic is toxic! I won’t be able to speak!”

“That’s right,” Silas said. “And you know why? Because you don’t belong here! The Mother of Magic does not want you! The Whirlwood belongs to ghasts! It belongs to fairies! Not to humans, with their walls, their kings, and their laws!”

The creatures around Silas broke into howls and jeers. “Get out!” They shouted. “Make them pay!” “Kill the humans!” The beasts writhed in the dark, all wings and claws and teeth.

“You’re angry!” Theodore spoke over the crowd. “You’ve been wronged, and you’ve been neglected!” The creatures went quiet, surprised to be acknowledged in this way. “You’ve been punished by King’s Law, but there’s been no one looking out for you! That would make anyone angry! But we can fix this! There is no need for violence!”

Silas shook a fist at Theodore. “You think you know anything about our suffering?! What we’ve been through?! You don’t know the first thing about it!”

Theodore pulled a packet of notes from his pocket, and unfolded his hand-written summary of all he had learned from creature archives.

“I will tell you what I know.”

Theodore squinted to read his notes in the dark. The wind tugged at the edges of the pages. What he could make out was enough the jar the details from his still-fresh memory.

“Rowan Thornbriar!” Theodore called out. “Are you here?”

The birch-skinned nymph stepped forward, glaring up at Theodore. He wore a coat of moss, and flowers in his silver hair. “How do you know my name?”

“According to public record, you worked for the North Manor farmlands for a period of three months, but the tax reports for that year suggest that you were never paid. You filed several complaints with my predecessors, but there is no report of them investigating. However, you were registered as wicked after the farmers filed a complaint against you.”

“So?” Rowan said. “You want to laugh about it?”

“What I want is to make you an offer,” Theodore said. “I already have enough evidence to indict the farm administration for fraud. I can arrange for you to receive back pay and to have your wicked status suspended. What I ask is that you walk away from this conflict and halt all aggressions!”

Rowan looked stunned. “Are… are you serious?”

“This is a trick!” Silas said, grabbing Rowan by the shoulder. “Do you take us for fools?! Any creature who even tries to leave will be cut down!”

“They will not!” Theodore said. “I have ordered all forces on the West side to stand down! Ask your scouts if you do not believe me! I swear to you, anyone who wants to leave in peace will be allowed to do so!”

There was silence. Rowan appeared to consider the offer. Silas spun to face the nymph. “You know better than to trust a human. Their oaths are empty: Devoid of magic. Thornbriar, you deserve justice, and you will find it only by taking it!”

“I…” The doubt in Rowan’s face drained away. “Yes. You’re right, of course. I know better.” He looked up at Theodore. “Nice try, human! You offer too little, too late!”

Theodore’s hands began to shake. His plan wasn’t working. What if all he was doing was ruining Myra’s chances of stopping Silas? He glanced back at his notes. There was no turning back. He had to try.

“Very well.” He said. “Then I ask to speak to a Curdie Trogmeyer.

A goblin ambled out from the dark, a sword propped against his shoulder. He was a small shriveled man with a peat skin, a bulbous nose, and a trim green beard. He bowed with mocking flourish.

Theodore checked his notes. “I understand you are a weaponsmith.”

“I was.” His voice was a sharp rasp. “I’m not much of anything if I’m not allowed in the city to sell my wares.”

“I want to help you. I can arrange for your visa and trade permit to be reinstated.”

Curdie grimaced. “Everything I had was confiscated by the city watch. My whole living: gone. You gonna promise to give me all that back?”

Could he? Theodore broke into a sweat. He wanted to say whatever Curdie wanted to hear, but he had no way of knowing what had happened to any of the goblin’s property. Lying would not repair the damage done. “I need time to investigate what happened, but I promise you I will make this right.”

The goblin spat. “Worthless.” He said, and receded into the shadows.

Theodore fumbled with his notes. He was losing control of this disaster. He was a fool to send his protection away. He should never have come. He needed to call the archers back, get out of there. He looked back, and saw Oboe watching him from behind the barricade. Her hands were folded tight, her eyes worried. He turned back.

“D…” He took a deep breath. “Dina Stonefed!”

Silas watched with smug satisfaction as a troll lollopped forward on her legs and fists. She stared up at him, and Theodore struggled to recall the details of her case.

“Eight months ago you—“

“Can you get my home back?” Dina blurted out before Theodore could finish.

“What?” Theodore was caught off guard.

“Humans chased me and my kids off our land! Can you give us our home back?!”

It took Theodore a frazzled moment to realize that she wanted his help. “—Yes. Yes! I saw your land title! No one has a right to remove you!”

“Good! You got a deal!”

Silas pulled the troll’s head to face him. “What do you think you are doing?! Have you gone mad?!”

Dina shoved Silas back. “All I ever wanted was for the humans to treat us with respect! Now one is doing that, and you still want us to fight! I’m not going to die here just because you’ve got a death wish! I’m leaving!”

“Traitor!” Silas shouted after her as she left. “Coward!”

Rowan Thornbriar rushed forward, pushing Silas out of the way. “Wait!” he said. “I don’t want to be wicked! Please, let me change my answer! Please!”

Theodore could not believe his ears. “Yes! Of course! Let me help you!”

“What?! No!” Black tendrils of smoke exploded out from under Silas’ coat. He struck Rowan across the face and sent him staggering. “You worthless trash!! You will fight or I will kill you myself!”

Rowan wiped a streak of fresh amber blood from his face. He looked at Silas, speechless. Murmurs broke out among the crowd. Before Silas could say another word, Rowan ran. Silas moved to give chase, but others from the crowd rushed past him to speak to Theodore. Every sort of creature, from gnomes, and furies, trolls and sylphs, goblins and werewolves, ghouls and nymphs, to pooka and unicorn, all came running to the foot of the hill. All of them started shouting over one another, yelling complaints, begging for mercy, and asking for help. Even Glut the spider monster scrambled forward. Theodore watched them, overwhelmed with relief.

“Everyone!” He said. “I want to help each and every one of you! But I want you to be safe! If you want peace, leave now and come see me during business hours! I will do my best to serve all of you!”

Whatever Silas said next was drowned out by the stampede of creatures racing to escape. Even the ones who resisted like Curdie thought better once the tide turned. In one frantic minute, the Fount emptied and Silas Jack was left standing by himself: alone.

Theodore raised the horn to his lips again.

“Silas Jack. It is not too late. I extend my offer to you, as well. Surrender, promise you will discontinue aggression against the crown, and I will grant you amnesty.”

The leader of the Red Caps stood there, still and silent, his pale body clear in the moonlight. His smoke dispersed. He hesitated but then stepped forward. With one jump, he sprang to the top of the ridge to face Theodore.

“This is the right choice,” Theodore said. He dropped the horn. “If we work together, I think we can make the Whirlwood better. I want to help you, just tell me what you need.”

Silas seized Theodore by the throat and lifted him off the ground. Theodore thrashed and choked as Silas pulled him closer, squeezing tight. Inky black tears poured down the ghast’s face as he whispered one word: “Revenge.”

Theodore gasped for air, choking as Silas tightened his grip. He tried to pull the creature’s hand away from his neck but wasn’t strong enough. His mind swam.

Silas swung Theodore over the edge of the edge and hurled him into the dark. Theodore hit the ground, pinwheeling against the rocks. His glasses were gone, knocked off. He pushed himself to stand but doubled over coughing as magic pushed its way into his lungs like burning coals. His vision blurred. A figure dropped into the pit after him. A shroud of black fog spread around him, threatening to engulf him.

“Bastard!” Silas said as he kicked Theodore onto his back. Worse than the pain was gagging for air that would not come. “Is this what you call a truce?!” Claws raked across Theodore’s chest, tearing his clothes and flesh. “You’ve taken everything from me!” A fist like iron pounded across Theodore’s bare face. “Devil damn you!”

Theodore twisted his head to dodge another blow. He reached for the breathing mask in his pocket, only to feel it torn out of his hand.

“You want to help me?” Silas said, crushing the mask his hand. “Then die!”

There was no escape. Theodore lacked the strength to move. Moments from the end, Theodore thought of his father. Was it like this when he died? Would they see one another again? Silas reeled back to strike.

“No!!” Oboe’s voice rang like a cannon. She burst through the fog and collided with Silas. “Stay away from him!!”

The two figures grappled, and Silas was dragged off Theodore. All Theodore could do was retch as his body went numb. Oboe roared, her body shifting with claws and horns and teeth. Silas answered in kind, his arms and body arcing like scythes. Theodore felt his mind fade as he watched the fight, helpless. He struggled to keep track of who was who, as the two animals shrieked and tore at one another. His eyes grew heavy.

A strap snapped around Theodore’s head. His nose and mouth were wrapped snug in leather. He could breathe. He heaved deep, starved mouthful. Life flowed back into him, enough to feel the pain and blood. He looked up to see Watchmen Fritz staring down at him. He wore a breathing mask, just like the one he just forced onto Theodore’s face. He said something, angry, but his voice was muffled by his mask and the noise. Fritz stood up and charged toward the skirmish.

Oboe had taken the shape of a lioness but was on the retreat. She limped, blood staining her fur. Silas doubled in size, growing huge. He skittered along the ground on all fours and leapt to pounce with long bladed fingers. Before Silas could tear her apart, Oboe shrank and slipped through his claws: a blue bird taking flight.

A half dozen knights closed in around Silas, swords ready. A fraction of the army Myra had brought, but all the breathing masks on hand. They scattered as Silas belched a stream of fire, but two managed to flank the ghast and plunge their blades in his hide. He screamed.

Delirious, Theodore was a child again. Trapped, watching a creature die, feeling nothing but horror and despair. He shouted for them to stop, his throat still raw and sore from inhaling ether. His voice did not carry. Silas swung his arms and threw soldiers off, but it was too late. They piled on, stabbing and slashing. Silas roared, fighting, until his voice broke into a wailing sob. Theodore could not see the tears, only hear them. Until they stopped.

The mob of knights backed away and sheathed their swords. Their work was done.