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.

“Ow!”

“Stop squirming,” the medic said. He was an older university mage, with green robes and a drawl in his voice. “Sooner I get this over with, sooner we go home.”

Theodore tried to lie still as the medic stitched his chest wound. When the battle had ended, Fritz and the other knights carried him from the Fount and laid him on a cot by the bonfires. There was a lot of blood, but he was alive. The numbing spell took care of most of the pain, but it was hard for him to watch another man thread his skin with a needle. He tried to think about something else but his head was still foggy.

“Where’s Oboe?” He said, his throat hoarse.

“Who now?”

He sat up. “The faun I came with!” He felt a sudden rush of panic. “She was in the battle! Have you seen her? She was hurt. You need to help her!”

The medic sighed and forced Theodore back down. “Son, I got my hands full. You just worry about yourself. Now shut up and sit still.”

Theodore tried, with difficulty, to distract himself. He wondered how he would find his glasses now that they were lost in the Fount and his vision was a soft smear. It then occurred to him that was not the only thing he had lost. His luggage, including several unfinished library books, was still sitting on the floor somewhere back at the Bureaucracy Dome in violation of office policy.

“There,” the medic said, dressing the wound. He dropped a bottle of pills into Theodore’s lap. “Green ones are for the pain. Black ones are to flush the magic out of your body. Take one of each a day, or else you’ll wish you died instead.”

Theodore nodded.

“Could’ve been worse,” the medic said, gathering his tools. “Devil missed your vitals. If he played with you any longer I don’t think I would’ve had anything to sew together.”

“What were you thinking?” Fritz said. The Lieutenant sat on a tree stump nearby, scraping his sword with a whetstone. “We had everything in hand. All you had to do was stay out of the way. Nearly got yourself killed like a damn fool.”

Theodore glared. “You would have killed all of those creatures.”

“Yeah? So?” Fritz said. Theodore couldn’t make out his face, but unimagined it to be insufferable. “Did you forget that every one of those monsters was a wanted criminal? Do you know how many times they attacked us? You know how many friends of mine they killed?” Fritz held out a handful of fingers. “They’re wicked! A threat! And you let them run free! You think they’re going to play nice because you decided to coddle them? Just a matter of time until they start picking fights with civilians now. We were gonna pull them up by the roots, but you tied our hands! If we hadn’t stepped in, you would’ve got what you deserved!”

“Lieutenant!” Captain Redriver said, shrill as a kettle. She put herself between them. “That is your superior you are speaking to! You will respect King’s law or I’ll smack it back into you!”

Fritz went quiet. “…Yes sir. Apologies, sir.”

“Get out of here.” She pointed. “Go watch the perimeter with the cadets. That’s an order!”

The Lieutenant surrendered a grudging salute and left. The medic took the cue to slip away as well, leaving Theodore with the watch Captain and the soft crackle of the fire.

Myra sat next to Theodore. She did not look at him. For a moment, all she did was stare off.

“We’ve eliminated leadership for the Red Caps,” she said. “Their organization will be in shambles for some time. We should be able to harvest magic without problem, but we will need to stay vigilant. The outlaws were let go on a promise of good behavior.” She glanced at him. “I hope you know what you are doing, Grayweather.”

Theodore wished he did. “Yes,” he said.

She stood. “This is your problem now. It’s the Ranger Deputy’s job to keep order in the Whirlwood. You just made a lot of big promises to a lot of dangerous creatures.”

Whatever pride Theodore felt started to wilt, leaving a lump in his throat. “Yeah.”

Myra offered him a salute. “Good luck, Deputy. You’re going to need it.”

She marched off, her boots crunching on the rocky ground into the night. Theodore was left to watch the fire and wonder whether he had done the right thing. He wanted to solve this without violence but let Silas die. He saved the creatures, but what if some were worse than Silas?

Theodore wondered what his father would think. Would he be proud? Angry? Both? Why did he care? What would he even have wanted his father to think? He shook his head. The numbing spell was starting to wear off, and Theodore felt like mush sewn up with string. He wanted to sleep, but his mind buzzed with worry about what tomorrow would bring.

Someone stuck something on his face, and his vision snapped into sharp focus. He looked up to find Oboe leaning over him with a smile.

“You need these to see, right?”

Theodore adjusted his glasses. The frame was bent, and the lenses were scratched but intact. He could work with this.

“Thank you!” He said, relieved to see Oboe. “Are you hurt? I was worried about you.”

Oboe propped her leg up on the cot, excited to show Theodore her bandages. “Look! A human wrapped my leg up! Now I’m not bleeding all over!!”

“Good. That’s good.” Theodore relaxed. “I’m sorry this happened to you. I’m sorry you got hurt saving me.”

“Was I supposed to let you die??” She said. “Don’t worry about me! I don’t matter. But you! You did it!” She put a soft hand on his shoulder, her eyes filled with emotion. “You saved everybody like you said you would! You’re wonderful!”

Theodore did not feel wonderful. “I didn’t save everyone. Silas is dead because of me. I told you I wouldn’t use violence, but I sent the knights. They…” He shuddered. The memory was still vivid and raw. “It was awful.”

Oboe plopped down on the edge of the cot. “Silas was bad. He was mean, and angry, and wanted everyone else to be like that too. You tried. That’s what matters. I don’t think he’d ever listen no matter how nice you were.”

Theodore did not believe that. There were reasons Silas became what he was. Theodore wondered what else could’ve been done and was left feeling helpless. He stared into the bonfire.

“Did I do the right thing?” He asked himself. “I let everyone go, but… what if nothing changes? What if this all starts over again?”

“Well…” Oboe tensed. “I think that depends. Are you going to stay?”

Theodore remembered the envelope. Groaning, he reached and pulled it out from his pants pocket. It was wrinkled and damp with his sweat. The loophole was still a ticket out of the Whirlwood. But…

“I made a commitment,” Theodore said. “I told the Red Caps I would help them with their problems. I can’t leave until that’s done.”

Oboe gave him a big smile. “Good! If we have a Ranger Deputy like you, then everything will be fine.”

Theodore gave her a skeptical look. “Like me?” he scoffed. “I’m not cut out for this. This will be a disaster.”

“No. I think you’re perfect.” Oboe said and hopped onto her hooves. “Remember when you found me? I was in a smelly cage. You didn’t trust me but were kind and let me out anyway. I don’t think I ever met a human like that. If we have a Ranger Deputy that’s nice like you, I don’t think there will be any more Red Caps.”

“I left,” he said. “I abandoned you.”

“You came back,” Oboe said. “You didn’t want to, but you did anyway. Things worked out. Maybe they’ll keep working out.”

Theodore sat up and ran his hand over the envelope. He doubted things would be as simple as Oboe said, but her words gave him courage. This wasn’t the life he wanted for himself, but maybe it was where he belonged.

He flattened the envelope out and flicked it into the bonfire. It curled to smoke in seconds.

“There,” Theodore said. “Now that that’s done, there’s something I need to discuss with you.”

“Huh?”

Theodore straightened his posture. “I’ve had time to reconsider your application for employment with the Ranger Deputy office. It occurs to me that if I am going to take my new responsibilities seriously, then having someone with your experience and knowledge at my disposal would be an invaluable asset. If you are still interested, I’d like to formally offer you the position of Assistant to the Ranger Deputy.”

Oboe froze, her eyes wide. She began to vibrate, bubbling over with excitement. “Really??” She lunged into a hug, squeezing Theodore. “Are you serious?!”

“Aarrgh!” Theodore said, “Let go! Watch the stitches!”

“Sorry!” She released him but could not sit still. She paced, her hands pressed to her chin. “I can’t believe this! This is so cool! I get to work with the Ranger Deputy! Wow! …Oh!” She stopped as suddenly as she started. “Wait. Wait, hold on. One thing. I’m gonna do it, but I just got one condition, okay?

This caught Theodore off guard. “What is it?”

“I want us to be friends. Please?”

It seemed a strange request. Theodore did not keep many friends but, after everything, he supposed one couldn’t hurt. He let himself smile.

“Okay,” He said.

Oboe’s eyes lit up, somehow even giddier than before. She pulled him into one more hug and was careful of the stitches this time.

The warmth of her response soothed his troubled thoughts. Whatever he wanted of his life could wait. There was work to do and he never liked this left undone.

“A man is dead!” The Alderman slammed his fists into Theodore’s desk, rattling the quills and documents. He did it again for emphasis. “Dead!”

Theodore straightened and leveled his papers and writing utensils. After three weeks serving as Ranger Deputy of the Whirlwood Valley he had grown accustomed to strange creatures barging into his office with odd demands. That morning he helped a flock of mockingbirds apply for citizenship, settled an argument over cave ownership, and spoke to the owner of a bakery about a troll who wanted his job back.

This was different. This was a homicide report.

Alaric Pearce was a huge man, callused and muscled from a lifetime of manual labor. A ragged beard and brush of long brown hair made him look wild. His face was taut like a mousetrap ready to snap. He was the appointed Alderman of the Southern farming manor, and he was a bit worked up about his duties.

“I will have blood for blood!” he said, pouring Theodore’s pencil cup out for effect. Everything bounced and scattered. Theodore strained to maintain his poker face.

“I need you to stay calm,” Theodore said, seizing the cup from him and replacing the pencils. “I’m sorry to hear you’ve lost a worker, but I can only help if you explain what happened. Please, sit.”

Pearce plopped into the seat. The wood groaned in protest.

“He’s not just some laborer!” Pearce said. “His name was Anthony Willow. He was a good man. A friend, even! They found him floating face down in the river Wander. Now we’re left with an empty seat in the dining hall, not to mention his widows.”

Theodore took notes, rubbing his jaw with his free hand. “I see. Is there a reason you’re reporting this to me instead of the city watch?”

The Alderman pressed his finger hard into the desk. “You’re in charge of the valley, right? Had to have been one of your ghasts that did it.”

Theodore stopped writing as his blood ran cold. “A ghast?” The scar on his chest ached. The stitches were gone but the memory remained. He remembered Silas lunging in the dark, clawing and kicking and screaming in fury. It was the closest Theodore had ever come to death, and it was only thanks to the bravery of Oboe and the knights of the city watch that he lived. Was there another like him on the loose?

Perhaps there was a mistake. “Is there… any evidence it was a ghast?”

“Evidence??” He pounded the desk again. “It’s the only explanation! You’d have to be a monster to attack a man like Anthony! Ghasts feed on fear! They waged war on us! They’re dangerous!”

This was historically true. Ghasts, as a class of magical creature, fed on negative human emotion. The Kingdom of Laien was founded following a war against them centuries ago. However, things were different now. Humans and ghasts lived in peace, and it was Theodore’s job to make sure that peace continued.

“Ghasts are citizens of Laien, same as anyone else,” he said to remind them both. “The treaties ensure this. It isn’t normal for them to turn wicked.”

“Bullshit!” Pearce said, tightening his sneer. “The Red Caps attack humans all the time!”

Theodore shook his head. “Not anymore. The Red Caps are gone.”

“Are they?” Pearce hunched over the desk. “How I hear it, you let them all run free. It’s only natural one would start killing again!”

It was the sort of thought that kept Theodore up at night. “There are other possibilities,” he said. The Alderman still hadn’t provided any proof a ghast was the culprit. “I’ll look into it.”

“Huh!” Pearce said. “‘Look into it!?’ A man is dead! You’re just blowing me off!”

“No.” Theodore started composing a letter. “I’ll send a request for a mortician to come and examine the body. I’ll investigate the crime scene and speak to your villagers. If enough evidence exists to isolate a perpetrator, there will be a trial.”

Pearce slammed his palm again, warping the wood. “A trial!? Monsters don’t deserve trials! Listen, if you can’t get us justice, I’ll just round up my men and go the creature ourselves!”

Theodore cringed at the thought of a mob tearing through the valley accusing whoever appeared suspicious. That kind of anarchy was beneath his countrymen, even if they were after a killer. He set down his quill and met the Alderman in the eye.

“If you are loyal to King Stonewall, I would advise against it. If there’s justice to be found, it will be found by the King’s Law or not at all.”

Pearce snorted. “Fine. Do your little investigation. But mark my words: If you can’t get justice for Anthony, we’ll make it ourselves. You hear me?” He stood up and stomped out of the cottage, without bothering to shut the door.

Theodore sat in silence. It felt like a hurricane had swept through his office. He took a deep breath and looked over his notes. He underlined the word ‘ghast’ and wondered what sort of storm lied ahead.

Theodore paced the office, gathering tools and documents for his investigation. The words of the Alderman lingered in his mind. He dropped a hard-bound copy of Assorted Abominations vol. II onto his desk and flipped through. Inside were illustrations of ghouls, goblins, gargoyles, and other upsetting alliterations. A lump formed in his throat. The most terrifying species of magical creature were ghasts. What was he up against?

“What’cha doin’?”

Theodore jumped. He spun to find his assistant Oboe watching him. “Oh!” He said, relieved. “It’s just you.” He pressed at his chest to calm his pounding heart. “You shouldn’t sneak up on someone who’s researching! It is intense work!”

Oboe offered a sheepish grin. “Sorry!” She said, then leaned to peek at what he was doing. “What’re you up to?”

The office was cluttered with things scavenged from the cellar. Theodore had taken stock of all the things left behind by his predecessor and piled the useful items on his desk. There was a set of wooden stakes, a rusted crossbow, binoculars, and emergency rations. From his own possessions he added the knife Watchmen Fritz had given him the day he arrived in the valley.

Oboe gasped. “Are you going camping? Can I come?!”

“No. What?” Theodore said. “Why would you want to go camping? You live in a tree.”

“Yeah! Sleeping in a tent looks so weird! I want to try it!”

Theodore shook his head. “None of this is for camping.” He wished that was what he was doing. “I’ve received word that a ghast has gone wicked and killed a villager at South Manor. They found him floating in the river.” His throat tightened. “There’s a chance he was killed by one of the Red Caps I let go. It might be my fault.”

Oboe gave him a funny look. “Why? You didn’t hurt anybody. All you did was give everyone a second chance. It’s not your fault if they refuse to change.”

Was it not? “I took a risk and someone else paid for it.” He picked up the knife and stared at it. “If I’m going to be Ranger Deputy, that means I need to keep the peace between man and creature. I need to fix this before anyone else gets hurt.”

Oboe frowned at the weapon. “…Are you going to fight them?”

He cringed. His arm fell limp. Memories flashed of Silas Jack: Fire, screams and blood. He glanced back at the glossary of ghasts he’d left open and saw a sketch of some shapeless thing made of teeth and claws and eyes.

“I don’t want to.” He didn’t stand a chance. “But I have to do something.”

Oboe smiled. “Then let’s go find the ghast and talk to them. If we make them see that hurting humans is bad, then everyone can be friends again.”

Theodore raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think it will be that easy.” There was no way the death of a civilian could go unpunished. “I tried talking to Silas and he almost killed me.”

“Not everyone is Silas!” She said. “We don’t know until we try!”

It would be nice if things worked the way Oboe thought. “We’re dealing with a killer,” Theodore said. “I’d like to solve this without violence but we need to be careful. Ghasts are dangerous.”

“So?” She shrugged. “Anybody can be dangerous if they believe and try hard enough!”

Theodore chuckled despite himself. “I suppose that’s true.”

“I know we gotta stop them if they’re wicked.” She shifted on her hooves. “I’m just worried. What if they just made a mistake? What if they feel really bad? Why did this happen?”

“We don’t know anything yet.” Theodore reminded himself that his duty was to presume innocence in all Laien citizens, ghasts included, until he found solid evidence to suggest otherwise. “I need you to take me to the South farming manor. After we investigate we can decide the best course of action.”

Oboe puffed herself up. “Okay! I’ll do my best to help!” She bolted out the front door only to pop back in after realizing she’d left without him. “C’mon! Let’s go!”

Theodore lingered a moment longer, pondering what equipment to take with him. He looked at the knife again and imagined what sort of danger they would face. His heart started to pound. He didn’t know what sort of creature they were chasing. All he knew was that they were a murderer.

He strapped a holster to his belt and slipped the knife inside. 

Crop fields sprawled as far as the eye could see. The sight of the vast sea of grain stopped Theodore dead in his tracks. He had a general idea where his food came from thanks to his books, but this was his first time seeing it himself.

He shook his head. “It’s just corn,” he said.

The South Manor farms sat on the outskirts of the Whirlwood. It was far enough away that there was little risk of livestock gaining sentience, but close enough to use the river Wander to water crops. The manor house stood like a fort, with looming silos and homesteads radiating out.

“There’s something going on at the gate,” Oboe said, playing with the binoculars.

They found a crowd of workers gathered outside the main village. A slim man in a suit and cape was speaking, pacing the bed of a wagon like a stage while waving a showman’s cane.

“…For a limited time only! With protection like this you can look tragedy right in the eye and say with confidence: ‘No thanks, buster!’ “

His smile was as curled as his bright red hair. He stepped to the side with a flowering gesture to reveal an old trunk. He banged on it with his cane and it sprang open to reveal a display of ornate talismans.

“Finest silver enchanted by hand to repel any ghast! Defend yourself against the marauding forces of the dark! Be the envy of all your friends! ‘Wow!’ they will say as ghasts tear them limb from limb, ‘I wish I had bought one of those!”

“I’ll take two!” an older woman said, hurling coins into the wagon.

“A smart woman if ever I saw one!” The showman bent down and pinned two talismans to her sleeve. “There you are!”

A fatter man spoke up. “Will these things keep me from gettin’ elf-shot?”

The peddler snapped his heels together. “Silver is used to defeat ghasts my good man, not fairies. Iron is their bane! I’ve plenty of those as well if you fear the mischief of the fey. Only nine-hundred thalers!”

“Why is all this stuff so expensive?” A teenager said.

“No price is too great to insure the safety of you and your loved ones! Let me remind you all that I have only a few talismans left! I implore you all, do not miss this exclusive chance to avoid certain death!”

“I’ll buy them all!” a panicked woman said.

“No!” An older man jumped in front of her. “I’ll pay double!”

“I’ve got kids!” Said a concerned parent, shoving his neighbor into the dirt. “You’ve got to sell them to me!”

Theodore stepped back in alarm as the crowd mobbed the wagon, fighting to buy the last of the merchandise.

“There’s something wrong,” he said. “I need to get up there.”

Oboe glanced between him and the wagon. “Okay,” She said and grabbed him by the waist.

Before Theodore had a chance to object, Oboe chucked him over the crowd and onto the stage. He landed on his feet and was about as startled as the crowd by the event. Now that he was the center of attention, he took the opportunity to clear his throat.

“Ranger Deputy Theodore Grayweather,” he said. “Merchant, do you have a license to be selling enchanted wares?”

The salesman offered a toothy grin. “Why, sure. I’m fully authenticated to sell whatever, wherever I like. Of course, I didn’t think to bring any of my many permits with me today.”

Theodore pulled out his citation booklet. “What is your name?”

“Oh, are we doing introductions?” He gave a mocking curtsy. “I go by Flip. Purveyor of wonders at rock bottom prices!”

“Flip, you are in violation of king’s law,” Theodore said. “The sale of all magical apparatuses is restricted to the grounds of the University.”

“The university.” Flip chuckled. “Should we really trust the protection of these good people to an institution with a monopoly on such product?” He turned, addressing the crowd more than Theodore. “With a killer on the loose, should we expect these citizens to travel all the way to the capital when they’ve so much work to do here? I came out of respect to offer them the means to defend their loves ones. Talismans made with pure, organic magic fresh from nature! Nothing like the processed, industrial poison that ‘university’ uses. Am I right?”

The crowd booed. “The university sucks!”

Theodore realized his mistake. “You’re not a licensed mage at all. You’re a witch!”

Flip spread his arms wide. “If that is the label you must apply to a man who refuses to accept a corrupt system, then yes. In truth I am only a humble tradesman come to offer my much-needed services at never-before-seen prices.”

This was a bigger mess than Theodore realized. “You’re an unregistered mage selling illegal merchandise.” He penciled in the details into the citation form. “I’ll have to hand you over to the City Watch. You can argue your case in the courts.”

Flip used his cane to knock the citation book out of Theodore’s hands and spun to face the crowd. “Good people, does this seem right? I came here to help, in the midst of a plague of wicked ghasts, and you patronize me of your own free will. Are you going to let this man lock me up for that?”

The crowd erupted into louder boos. Theodore grabbed his citation book only to be pulled off the stage by angry villagers.

“Stop!” Theodore struggled as he was restrained. “I need to finish writing this subpoena!!”

“Theo!” Oboe tried to push through the crowd and was pushed back. Flip took the opportunity to sell the last few of his talismans. 

“Until next time!” Flip made a theatric bow and cast a spell on his horseless wagon. It lurched to life, wheeling off toward the valley. The crowd cheered. Theodore fought to fill in the last few lines of his paperwork but it was too late. The witch escaped.

“Alright! That’s enough!” Alaric Pearce swaggered out from the manor yard. The alderman stood a head taller than anyone else. “Let the man go!”

The farmers complied, and Theodore fell flat on his face. Pearce yanked Theodore up by the scruff and set him back on his feet.

“You know you came here to find a killer ghast, not to harass a merchant, right?”

Theodore watched with irritation as Flip’s wagon disappeared into the Whirlwood. “I am aware,” he said.

“Well, it seems we’ve beaten you to the punch,” Pearce said. “I just got word we’ve captured the killer.”