The crawlie scrambled around Oboe’s hooves, trying to find a way out of the cage. There wasn’t any. The cage was big enough to hold a whole troll, but the bars were thick and close together. They were trapped.

Oboe peered through the bars. The spell had transported them into some sort of dank stone laboratory. It stank like urine, mulch, and spent magic. There was a dirty old workbench overloaded with books and sharp and scary looking tools. Lamps and dried herbs hung from the low ceiling. The walls were lined with bottles and cages and, to Oboe’s horror, she realized most of them were filled with little ghasts. It looked like someone was using them for rituals.

“Don’t worry little guy,” Oboe said. “I’ll get us out of here!”

She grabbed a bar with each hand. The iron hurt her hands, drained the magic in her and made her feel weak. She ignored that sick feeling and rattled the bars. They were tight and sturdy. That meant she had to do this the hard way. Oboe grunted and huffed and strained with all her strength to pull the bars apart. If she could bend them just enough they could slip out and get away.

A bell rang. Oboe heard footsteps on the floor above. Someone was coming. She was strong but needed more time to twist bars this thick. The iron groaned as she threw her back into it. 

A trapdoor opened at the top of a staircase and light flooded through. A man in a prim black suit and a familiar smirk descended into the laboratory.

“Well,” Flip said. “Looks like my traps caught a bit more than usual today.”

“Flip??” Oboe said, still straining to shift the bars. “What are you doing here?!”

Flip was amused. “I should be asking you that. Why would a fairy take ghast bait?”

“You’re the one who’s been kidnapping ghasts?!”

The witch folded his hands together. “I prefer to call it ‘hunting.’ The ghasts I acquire aren’t sentient. Well, most of the time anyway.” he laughed. “Don’t look at me that way, it’s not like they’re people.”

“You’re going to be in big trouble when I tell Theodore about this!” Oboe said.

The bars had widened just enough for the Crawlie to squeeze through. It wriggled toward the stairs and Flip stomped to pin it to the floor.

“Hey! Don’t hurt him!” Oboe shouted.

Flip picked up the stunned ghast. “Do you know what I like about fairies?” Flip’s grin grew wider. He did something with his hand and the crawlie writhed with pain. A swirl of gray and purple smoke was sucked out from the creature into the witch’s palm. “You run a little magic through iron and they’re helpless. Iron is so much cheaper than silver.”

The crawlie turned to ash and crumbled to the floor. Oboe recoiled in shock.

“Y-you killed him!” She said. “How could you?! He was nice friend and a good listener!!”

Flip touched the bars of the cage and a white-hot glow spread through them. Pain jolted through Oboe’s hand. The magic knocked her back and she fell to the floor of the cage. She forced herself to sit up despite the pain.

“What’s going on?” She said. “Why are you doing this?!”

Flip shrugged. “Nothing personal sweetie, just trying to run a business.”

Oboe looked at all the cages and at the pile of ash that was her friend a moment ago. She felt sick. “I thought you said you weren’t a bad witch!”

Flip rolled his eyes. “I told you not all witches are bad. I never said anything about myself.”

Oboe shrank into the smallest mouse she could manage and tried to slip between the bars of her cage. Her fur bristled and there was a crack of magic that hurled her back. She snapped back to faun shape feeling sore all over.

“Argh! Let me out of here!!” She hurled herself at the bars and was sent bouncing off the walls of the cell. She crashed to the floor with enough force to make the bottles and shelves rattle.

Flip chuckled. “Never stops being funny. By all means, wear yourself out. It just goes to show why humans are the dominant species.”

Oboe found a rock on the ground and threw it at Flip’s head.

“OW!!” the witch grabbed at the fresh welt. “You insolent little heifer!”

“You’re going to be in big trouble when Theo finds out about this!” She said.

“The Deputy? Oh, spare me. The man is a dullard. Besides, it’s not like you’ll have the opportunity to tell him about any of this.” He eyed her up like a butcher at a meat market. “Harvesting fairy magic is not my specialty but I’m sure I can find a use for you.”

“Harvesting?” Oboe felt a lump in her throat as she looked at the ashen remains of the Crawlie. “…You’re tearing magic straight out of creatures. That’s…” She could not imagine a more painful way to die. “You can’t do that!!”

“As advertised, my wares are nothing like city magic.” Flip smiled. “Fresh squeezed and one-hundred percent organic.”

“You’re horrible!” Oboe said. “I hate you!”

“Yes, yes, I’m a monster, crimes against nature, blah blah blah.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t need a FAIRY of all things to lecture me on morality. We all do awful things to get by in this world.”

Upstairs, a door opened and bell rattled.

“Speaking of,” Flip said. “I have a customer. Pardon me, would you?”

Oboe watched him climb the stairs to the shop front. She spun in place, looking for anything she could use to escape. There was nothing. There was nothing to do but eavesdrop.

“Wendy!” Flip’s voice was so honeyed and fake it made Oboe sick. “Lovely to see you again.”

“Oh, Mr. Flip, are you alright?” Wendy said. Oboe remembered her as the quiet little human she met at the village. “You’ve a nasty lump on your head.”

“It’s fine. Walked into a shelf. Never mind that. How’s your fiancé, the Alderman?”

“He asked me to fetch you. They found the ghast that killed Anthony.” She paused. “We know you’re an expert on… erm, euthanizing such creatures.”

“HELP!” Oboe shouted as loud as she could. “I’m trapped down here in a cage!!”

“Um. Mr. Flip? Is someone calling out for help in your cellar?” Wendy said.

Flip laughed. “It’s nothing. I keep a talking dog as a pet.”

“It said something about being in a cage, though…” Wendy said.

“Yes,” Flip said. “She hates it when I put her in the kennel.”

“I am not a dog!” Oboe said. “I’m the assistant to the Ranger Deputy! Let me out!!”

“My dog is also a compulsive liar,” Flip said.

“I see,” Wendy said. “How sad.”

“Hey!!”

“Let me gather my things,” Flip said. “We can discuss my fees when we get to the manor.”

“Of course, sir,” Wendy said.

Flip stood at the top of the stairs and peered down at Oboe. With a wink, he kicked the trapdoor shut and cast Oboe into darkness.

“Wendy! Don’t listen to him! He’s a bad man! Tell Theo what’s going on! Help! Wendy!!”

Oboe kept shouting, but it didn’t do any good. If Wendy could still hear her, she did nothing to help. Oboe could do nothing while Flip made preparations to execute an innocent ghast.

Oboe paced in her cage and tugged at her mane. There was no way to know how much time was left. She wondered if Theo even knew what was going on or if she’d even see him again.

“Rrgh!! Stupid! I’m so stupid!” She said. “Why did I think I could ever do this on my own?!”

She stomped her hooves and the bottles on the wall rattled. She sat on the floor and fumed. Flip was going to execute the Tall Man and there was nothing she could do. Would Theo find her before Flip ripped her magic out? Did he even know she was in trouble? No. She was on her own

Turning into a mouse didn’t work. She was lucky the cage was big enough that the iron let her transform at all. If she couldn’t squeeze through the bars then she just had to smash them. She concentrated hard on getting big as she could. She changed into a bison and reared back. Charging, she threw all her weight into bashing her way out.

A huge jolt of pain ran through Oboe the moment she touched the bars. The magic hurled her back and she crashed back and forth against the walls of the cell. The room shook and bottles tumbled off the shelves and shattered against the floor. Oboe collapsed, but when she came to her senses she realized she’d set some crawlies free.

Oboe heard the gentle tink of glass. She craned her neck to look and saw an imp trapped in a big jar. He was a scrawny, leathery little lizard man with bat wings. He tapped on the glass and said something she couldn’t hear.

“You’re trapped too?” Oboe said.

He nodded and mimed charging.

“Hold on!” She was still sore but threw herself at the bars again. Cages and jars tumbled and burst open on the floor. Ghasts scattered and swarmed all over, ecstatic to be free. As soon as Oboe could stand she charged again, and again, until she was so battered and bloodied she could hardly stand.

“Stop! Stop!” The imp fluttered in front of the cage. “Don’t kill yourself, toots! Let us take it from here!”

Oboe dropped onto her butt and panted for breath. “You… you should get out of here,” she said.

“Nuh-uh. Not leaving you behind with that sicko,” he said. “We creatures gotta stick together.”

Some other imps got hold of some scalpels and were working the lids off the remaining bottles. Oboe smiled as the rest of the ghasts were set free.

“Hold up and I’ll get this thing unlocked.” The imp flapped up to the lock and stuck his hand in the mechanism. He rooted around and grunted. “Ugh. This is going to take a while.”

“Three’s no time!” Oboe said. “Somebody needs to tell the Ranger Deputy what’s going on!  That witch is going to South Manor to kill a ghast!”

The imp turned to whistle at another ghast. “Terry! You hearin’ this?”

“On it!” Terry the imp dropped his scalpel. “I’ve been dying to rat that guy out since we got caught!”

A squadron of imps flew in formation up the stair well. They worked together, heaving and swearing, until they pushed the trap door open with a collective shout. Daylight poured back down into the cellar and Oboe watched as a whole herd of crawlies stampeded out toward freedom.

Silas screamed as the knights closed in around him. He thrashed to push them back but it was too late. Blood-stained swords flashed, tearing flesh until his howling turned one final choking gasp.

Theodore opened his eyes. The dream faded. He was trembling and he tasted blood. He blinked away the blur to find himself flat on his back on the floor on his office. An imp was standing on his chest and glaring down at him. 

“Get up!” The imp prodded Theodore in the face with the butt of a pencil. “HEY!!”

“I’m awake,” Theodore said, knocking the pencil away. He pushed himself to his feet with a groan. He could feel the Tall Man being moved. It was a bizarre sensation now that they were separated, like a part of his body was miles away but still connected to him. The villagers were carrying the Tall Man toward the center of the manor yard. “I don’t know why you’re here, but you need to leave. I’ve got enough problems for today.”

The imp flapped onto the desk. “I ain’t going anywhere!” He grabbed Theodore by the tie. “This goat lady saved me and my buddy, so you’re gonna listen!”

Was he talking about Oboe? “You have my attention.”

The imp reeled Theodore closer. “She got herself captured by a witch, like I did. This witch’s been keeping me, my buddy Eddy, and a bunch of other ghasts in cramped awful smelling bottles for WEEKS.”

“What?” This violated so many creature rights edicts that it boggled Theodore’s mind. “Why would they do this?”

The ghast released Theodore. “How should I know!? He’s a freak! He rips our magic out and kills us!!”

Something clicked in Theodore’s brain. “He’s draining magic off of ghasts?”

“It’s sick, man! Sick!”

Theodore stepped over to his bookcase. It was toppled it the scuffled and the books were scattered. He picked through the mess to find an old battered volume of Magic, Science and Technology. He leafed through glossaries and diagrams of creature physiology. 

“Humans can’t channel magic unless it’s sterilized,” Theodore said. “But Ghasts process ambient magic naturally. Their bodies render it safe.”

His eyes crossed the passage he was looking for. He dropped the book open onto the desk.

THE USE OF CREATURES AS ALTERNATIVE ENERGY IS FORBADE BY THE CROWN, THE UNIVERSITY, AND HUMAN DECENCY. ANY SORCERER TO PRACTICE SUCH SHALL BE DISBARRED IN DISGRACE.

“…If he was taking the magic from another living being, he could disguise his aura. He could commit a crime and make it look like a ghast did it. But why?”

Theodore remembered the crowd gathering to buy Flip’s talismans. He recalled the fear and the panic the witch stirred up. How much money was Flip making? How much more might he stand to earn? Theodore saw Flip pulled ghast magic out of the ring but he never stopped to consider the implications. Flip used ghast magic to strangle Anthony Willow and create a panic in order sell his anti-ghast merchandise.

The ghast Sheriff died the same way as Anthony. She must’ve discovered too much. Now Oboe was the one snooping. Theodore’s eyes shot towards the imp.

“The faun you mentioned, is she safe?”

“I dunno, probably?” He shrugged. “She busted us out and Eddy was trying to return the favor. Don’t worry though! The witch left earlier. Some human came by to ask him to kill some poor sap. You probably got enough time to go help your friend.”

No. That wasn’t true. Theodore could feel the Tall Man at the yard of South Manor. If Flip had been summoned, they had to be gearing up for a public execution. Time was one thing Theodore did not have.

Theodore drafted a hurried note and ran out into the cottage yard where he knocked at bird house labeled ‘Earl L. Bird.’

“GET LOST! Some of us need to get up in the morning!”

“Earl, please, this is urgent!” Theodore shook the letter in his hand. “I need to get this to the city watch! Lives are at stake!”

A fat, disgruntled pigeon squeezed out the entrance to glare at him.

“Dude, what is this? The third one today? How about you do it yourself. Maybe see a doctor while you’re out. You don’t look so good. I hear walking is real good for your health.”

“This is an emergency, Earl!”

The pigeon rolled his eyes. “This ain’t a charity. You know the fee.”

Theodore stormed back into the cottage and charged back out wielding a baguette.

“Here!” He said, cramming the baguette into the birdhouse. “Whatever you want! Just deliver the note!”

Earl squinted at the loaf.

“You know, I don’t really care for those. It’s all crust. See, what I like about those croissants you buy is they’re flakey. Buttery. Go down real easy. Way better for someone like me who ain’t got teeth.”

“I don’t have time for this!” Theodore shook the birdhouse so hard he pulled it off the tree. “An innocent creature is about to be executed and it’s my fault! If you don’t help me there’s going to be blood!”

“Alright, alright, alright!” Earl said. He snatched the crumpled envelope out of Theodore’s hand with his beak and stuffed it into his delivery pouch. “With people like you in charge, no wonder we got so many problems.” He launched off the perch to circle overhead. “You owe me for this, nutjob.”

“Thank you!” Theodore said.

“And put my house back!” Earl shouted. “Or expect to hear from my attorney!” Theodore felt new hope as he watched Earl rise and soar towards the capital. He stuck the birdhouse back on its nail and turned his gaze towards South Manor

Theodore stood on a hill overlooking the manor, surveying the inner yard through his binoculars. The farmhands had built a crude stage where Flip was performing a last-minute pre-execution sales pitch.

 The Tall Man hung from a beam center stage, mouth gagged and dangling over a silver saucer filled with some sort of mercurial fluid. Theodore guessed it to be part of a dispelling ritual. Once the last ingredient was added it would light into an ethereal fire that could disperse all magic in a creature. It was a theatrical way to kill a ghast.

Waiting for the city watch to arrive wasn’t an option. Theodore needed to intervene before Flip ran out of goods to sell. He slid down the hillside and broke into a sprint. Once he was near enough to be spotted he slowed to a creep. He recalled, with reluctance, his father’s advice on avoiding detection. The homesteads provided excellent cover.  Acting natural, he slipped into the gathering crowd and worked his way toward the front.

“We may have caught one killer ghast but there may yet be dozens, nay, hundreds of wicked ones yet beneath our feet!” Flip twirled towards his display of talismans with a flourish. “Did you know that someone you know is mauled by a ghast every fifteen minutes? Don’t become a statistic! Purchase while supplies last during this limited time promotion!”

Theodore spotted Pearce sitting off to the site, tapping his foot with building impatience. “I’m not paying you to hock your wares! Get on with it!”

Flip offered a smile. “All in the name of preventing another tragedy, Alderman. You should be thanking me.”

“You can sell whatever you want after the thing is dead!” Pearce said. “Hurry up!”

Theodore seized on the distraction. He climbed onto the stage and made a run for the knife.

“Hey!” A woman in the crowd pointed. “Who’s that?!”

The Alderman launched to his feet. The flimsy stage shook as he lumbered to block Theodore. Flip retreated toward the saucer. Theodore had no choice but to play his trump card now that his cover was blown.

“Halt!” He whipped a government form out from his pocket. “This public execution is in violation of due process! By the authority of the crown you will release the ghast into my custody or face steep fines!”

The crowd met Theodore with a collective blank stare. The Alderman ripped the citation out of his hand and tore it to shreds.

“Well. It was worth a shot,” Theodore said.

Pearce shoved him back. “I told you to stay out of this, pipsqueak! Get lost or I’ll make you regret it!”

Theodore pulled the crossbow from his belt and took aim. The crowd gasped.

“You are making a mistake,” Theodore said. “This execution is illegal and this creature is innocent!”

The crowd murmured in confusion. Giselle, the widow, pushed her way to the front.

“Is this some sort of joke?!” She said. “You swear to find my husband’s killer and now you tell us the creature you found didn’t do it?! My husband is dead! I will not have him mocked like this!”

“The real killer is right in front of you!” Theodore pointed. “Flip! I charge you with the murder of two Laien citizens, the abduction of countless others, the sale of illegal magic weapons, and inciting violence toward ghasts!”

Stony silence washed over the yard. The entire South Manor community turned to look at Flip, who was caught creeping toward the edge of the platform. He straightened his posture the moment he realized he was the center of attention.

“Fascinating,” Flip said. He looked past Theodore. “Alderman, I was afraid this might happen. It appears the ghast has cast a mind control spell over the Deputy.”

“What?” Pearce glanced between Theodore and Flip.

“He has spent too long around the creature without taking proper precautions,” Flip said. “He’s a thrall now and will go to any extreme to save his master. Restrain him!”

Theodore corrected his aim with the crossbow and backed away. “He’s lying! Flip used ghast magic to kill Anthony and stir up a panic! It’s all in the name of making money off you!”

“This is absurd.” Flip laughed. “How can a human use ‘ghast magic?’ Can you prove any of this?”

Theodore hesitated. “I have eyewitness accounts.”

The witch raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

“The imps you’ve been holding captive! They escaped and told me what you’ve been doing!”

“I see, I see.” Flip strolled across the stage, opening his arms toward the onlookers. “To summarize for you, ladies and gentlemen, we are being told to trust the wild accusations of a ghast as reason to let another go unpunished. Is that something you can trust?”

The whole crowd jeered and booed.

Flip banged his cane to silence the crowd. “Everyone! If we kill the ghast now, our Deputy should return to his senses within three days!”

“He is acting funny,” Pearce said. He stepped toward Theodore, eyes on the crossbow. “Just put the weapon down. We’ll fix you.”

Theodore had only a single crossbow bolt. He was surrounded and outnumbered. There was no chance of stopping them if this turned to a brawl. The only way to even the odds was to stall until the city watch arrived, but how long would that take?

“Can I have everyone’s attention?” Flip raised his cane into the air. “It’s time I gave you good people what you paid for!”

Flip revealed a vial from his breast pocket and emptied something viscous into the saucer. It sparked. Effervescent flames of violet danced over the surface. The potion boiled over the edge, hissing as it splashed against the wood.

The Tall Man squirmed over the seething liquid. His cries were muffled under his gag. Flip grabbed to pull the knife from the beam and Theodore reacted on instinct. He aimed his crossbow at the saucer and loose the bolt. Flip leapt back as the dish crashed with a clang onto the stage. The concoction spilled and ate through the stage. Purple flames licked across the wood before sputtering out.

“He’s unarmed!” Flip shouted. “Grab him!”

Theodore discarded the now useless crossbow as the Alderman wrenched him off the stage. A circle of burly farmhands took hold of him.

“Let go!” Theodore struggled to pull free. “Flip is the one you want!

Pearce stood over smoldering stage, scratching his head. “Look at this damned mess. What are we supposed to do now?”

“Not to worry.” Flip threw an arm around his patron’s broad shoulders. “There’s more than one way to kill a ghast.”

Theodore tried to stay on his feet.  The wind howled around him, whipping his face with hot sand. He couldn’t see anything through the roar of the sandstorm. It was all he could do to cover his face and move forward.

His head felt like a doll with its stuffing ripped out. He knew he needed to go somewhere, to do something. Something terrible would happen if he didn’t. It hurt to think and to hold onto the thought. He doubled his effort to push through the storm. 

The dust cleared. Theodore looked down and jumped back. He was one step away from walking off the edge of a rooftop. The tiles under his feet gave ever so slightly. He realized, as his vision cleared, that the building he stood on was made of sand. It was the same in the streets below and beyond. A whole city stretched ahead of him, the shape of its skyline and building familiar but made again with fine grit and dust. It was Laien, home, and yet not. At the center was a structure he did not recognize: an impossible tower made of steel that pierced the sky.

Vertigo hit Theodore. It was a long fall to the ground and the roof he walked on was crumbling with each step. He needed to get to somewhere safe. Stepping lightly, he searched for a regulation fire escape to climb down to ground level. Preferably one that wasn’t also made of sand. The wind kicked up again before he could locate one. Theodore turned to look where the storm was coming from. That’s when he saw it.

A face hung in the red sky like a constellation. He knew it. Curling horns and a notched goat ear. The name was on the tip of his tongue. Zither. That was right. A faun that he had wanted to help. What was he doing? His mouth was open, lips pursed as he sucked up air and dust until his cheeks were full. Then, holding it all for just a moment, he blew it out again. A great squall tore through the buildings, scattering them to nothing.

Theodore’s heart jumped in panic. He needed to get down before it reached him. Bounding forward, he looked for anywhere he could jump down to safety. The roof was too weak. His leg punched through, trapping him. Twisting around, he saw the gust ripping towards him. He tried to pull himself free, but it was no use. There was no choice. He slammed his fist into the tile under him and the rooftop crumbled. He fell, slamming into one interior floor after another, each one slowing his fall with a rough grainy slap, until he hit the ground. The storm rushed over his head, burying him in dust.

Theodore had the foresight to hold his breath. He lurched, trying to free himself from the heavy piles of sand he was trapped under. As soon as he wormed his way to the surface, he gasped for air. The storm had subsided.

He got up and took in the path of destruction Zither had created. A line straight through the city to the tower was toppled, but the tower stood the blast. The giant faced glared in the distance. It hovered across the sky at glacial pace and looked for another angle of attack.

Theodore brushed himself off and wracked his brain trying to remember what was going on. This was all wrong. Zither shouldn’t be doing this. Why was the city like this?

He remembered something despite the headache. He needed Oboe’s toy soldier. It was important, like a bright beacon in his mind, but why? Somehow knowing he needed it was enough. He knew where to find it. The toyshop.

There was no point in going to the trolley station. If it was made of sand it wouldn’t be operational. So, Theodore steered himself to try and find the streets he had explored with Oboe. His boots slipped on the even ground as he marched across the loose sand. He stopped to take refuge when he heard Zither readying another windstorm and kept clear of the attack.

When he reached the toyshop he grabbed the doorknob, only for it to fall apart in his hand. Feeling stupid, Theodore kicked an opening through the door and stooped to climb inside.

He remembered Oboe’s excitement over the toy store. All of the model trains and toy puzzles were mirrored here, sculpted in fragile grains. Only one object in the whole shop was made of something else. Theodore picked the little wooden knight off the shelf and everything come back to him in a rush. Zither had betrayed them. This was the duke’s dream. He was trapped inside with him, needing to save him before the news got out of what had happened. Theodore needed to find the duke and make him confront the dream.

Another wind blast shook the city. Theodore ran out of the toy store before it collapsed on top of him. After the sand settled, Theodore looked and saw the iron tower was still standing in the distance. The duke could be anywhere, but that seemed the obvious place to start looking.

Theodore got moving, but almost tripped. There was something clamped tight around his wrist. A shackle, with a taut chain trailing off it. Turning around, Theodore saw there was something on the other end holding his chain.

“Where do you think you’re going, son?”

Theodore wracked his brains trying to think of a way to stop the farmers from killing the Tall Man. A silver dagger was presented to Flip, who prepared to enchant it. Theodore fought to pull free of the men restraining him only to be pushed onto his knees. He watched, helpless.

Giselle swept through the crowd to look down on him.

“I hope they can’t cure you,” she said. “I hope they have to kill you.”

“Giselle, I need you to listen to me,” Theodore said. “The Tall Man is innocent. Flip is the one who killed Anthony”

She shook her head. “Has anyone got a muzzle for this idiot?” A rag was handed to her.

Theodore twisted his neck and spat to keep her from gagging him. Was it even possible to convince her? His eyes darted in panic and fell on the Tall Man.

“Wait,” Theodore said. “Anthony proposed to you on Harvest Eve, right?”

She froze. “Excuse me?”

“You went to the Fey Orchard together.” Theodore tried to remember every detail the Tall Man had shared. “To see the changing colors. Before you met, he wanted to become a sailor.”

Giselle stared. “How do you know all this?”

Theodore’s heart pounded. “Anthony told you he was friends with a ghast. They were friends since he was a child.” Theodore pointed his chin at the stage. “That’s the one he was talking about! The one you’re all about to kill! Do you really think this is what Anthony would’ve wanted?”

Confusion and suspicion fought for expression in Giselle’s face. She turned without saying a word and climbed onto the stage.

“Remove the gag!” She said, pointing at the Tall Man. “I want to speak to the creature.”

“Preposterous!” Flip said. “Are you listening to that fool? He’s been brain washed!”

“How do you know that?” Giselle said.

Flip pointed his cane at one of the men restraining Theodore. “You there! Show us his left hand!”

Theodore’s wrist was wrenched into the air.

“Do you see the ring on his finger?” Flip gestured. “It’s been enchanted by this ghast. Just try to remove it! It’s cursed!”

Giselle looked at her husband’s ring. Her eyes went wide.

“Alderman,” she said. “Let the Deputy go.”

“What?” Pearce did a double take. “Are you mad, woman?”

“He’s telling the truth.” Her voice was firm. “Anthony wore that ring long before I knew him. If it was made by this ghast, that means they really were friends.”

“Then… Wait!” Flip backed away. “That just means the creature plotted this for years. Yes. That must be it! He mind-controlled Anthony from the start!”

Giselle shoved Flip. “Then he was still the man I fell in love with!” She tore off her talisman and threw it in the witch’s face. “Alderman, Flip is the one who killed my husband!”

The crowd broke into whispers and chatter.

“Wait, the witch is the killer now?”

“The ghast is innocent?”

“You mean we were tricked?”

“I bought all this stuff from a murderer?”

“I want my money back! I demand a refund!”    

“Yeah! A full refund!”

Flip stole a glance at the crowd as it turned against him. A trickle of sweat ran down his face at the utterance of the word refund. Pearce stepped toward him and he bolted before he could get ahold of him.

“Where do you think you’re going?!” Pearce yelled after Flip. “Get back here!”

Theodore was released as all the able-bodied men charged after Flip. Flip swooped into the onlookers and there was a shriek. The witch swung around with a hostage just as the men were about to pounce. It was Wendy, the mousey fiancé of the Alderman. Flip pressed the tip of the silver dagger against her throat and wrestled to keep her from squirming.

 “Alright,” Flip said. “Jig’s up, but I’ve got one more deal to make. Refuse and the bride-to-be gets skewered. Capiche?”    

“Help!” Wendy said.

“Let her go, you bastard!” Pearce said.

“All in good time, Alderman,” Flip said. “I’m just taking her for a walk. Just do exactly as I say and you get her back in one piece.”

Pearce got as close as he dared. “Fight me like a man!”

“What?” Flip looked offended. “No! Do you think I’m stupid? Look at yourself! You’re built like an ox!”

Theodore leapt onto the stage while everyone was distracted. The Tall Man swung through the air as Theodore yanked the knife from the beam and bent down to grab Giselle’s talisman.

Flip warned before that the enchantments should be kept apart. Theodore pressed them together. They grew white hot and burst in his hands in a flash of fiery light. Theodore screamed as the explosion hurled him from the stage.

Singed and bruised, Theodore forced his eyes open. The whole village gaped in horror. The Tall Man got to his feet. He was free. It took only a moment for his body to grow back to its full size but then it did not stop. He grew taller, and larger, doubling in size and then again.

“What’s happening?!” Theodore said, struggling to pull himself upright.

The Tall Man’s voice boomed like thunder. “They are afraid.”

Screams rang out as the Tall Man grew, and grew, until he towered over the village. He peered down, a massive, looming silhouette. The crowd scattered, fleeing and fighting for control of Flip’s talismans. The ghast took a great lumbering step past them toward the witch.

Flip swore and threw Wendy aside. He backed away, holding the silver dagger out to protect himself. The Tall Man gestured and the knife was knocked from Flip’s hand by unseen force. Helpless, he ran.

It was no use. The Tall Man reached out and closed his hand around the witch.

Wendy fell to her knees and covered her head. “Please! Don’t hurt us!”

The Tall Man spoke like wind and rain. “I would not dream of it.”

The farmers peeked out from their hiding spots as the Tall Man stepped into the center of the village.

“Deputy,” he said. “Do I have permission to place the culprit under a binding spell?”

“Yes,” Theodore said, groaning. “Do it!”

The Tall Man opened his palm. His fingers curled into arcane signs. Ethereal cords coiled around Flip and bound him tight.

“No!” Flip shouted. “He’ll kill us all! He’s dangerou–” The witch was silenced with a spell and placed gently on the ground.

Giselle stepped out from cover. Her neighbors cowered but she looked up to face the creature they all feared.

“Ghast,” she said. “You were friends with my husband?”

A nod. “Yes, Giselle. We are both less without him.”

Her lips tightened. “I’d… I want to talk. About him.”

“As would I.”

Whatever rampage the farmers expected did not come. Wendy joined Giselle, and then one by one the other manor workers mustered the courage to approach. The Tall Man shrank as it became clear there was no threat.

The quiet moment of reflection was broken as horses poured down the hillside. The city watch arrived in force. A dozen watchmen and two Mage Enforcers charged onto the scene on horseback. Theodore laughed at the sight of it. A cavalry too late to be of use. He let himself lie back and took comfort knowing it would all be reports and paperwork from here. 

Theodore found the Tall Man on the outskirts of the manor, on a hill overlooking the road back to the city. Graves dotted the hilltop, with one newer than the rest. The ghast bent down to rest a hand on the loose soil.

“I used to hate humans,” he said. “Anthony was the one that changed that. He was a timid child. He knew what I was, but he asked to be friends anyway. That’s what made sense to him.”

The afternoon heat was fading. Wind was blowing through Giselle’s hair. She listened.

The Tall Man stood up. “He wanted to be brave, so my haunting became a game. With practice, he became hard to frighten. As time went on we came to visit for the joy of one another’s company. We made time once a month to talk over tea. It meant a lot to me.”

“He never mentioned you,” Giselle said.

“I insisted on secrecy, to spare my pride.” His arms hung slack. “I expect it was difficult for him.”

“And the ring?”

“His idea. He wanted to go to sea but worried we wouldn’t meet again.”

The Tall Man turned toward Theodore.

“I would ask for the ring back but I am afraid that is not how the hex works. You accused me wrongfully, hunted me, and nearly caused my death. It angers me to be linked to a man like you. Yet, it cannot be helped. You and I are bound now until death.”

Theodore ran his fingers over the gemstone. The reminder of his mistake left him feeling sick. “I’m sorry,” he said. The words felt feeble, inadequate.

The Tall Man leaned over him. “Let it serve to remind you to never let this occur again.”

Giselle knelt down beside the grave, staring at the etching of her husband’s name.

“Oh, Anthony.” Tears welled up. “You’re gone, and I nearly killed your friend.” She sobbed into her mourning veil. The Tall Man placed a hand on her back.

“He was a good and kind man. He would not have blamed you for this. But I know he would expect us both to take the best of what he was and carry on.”

Giselle nodded, drying her eyes.

In the distance Theodore could see the watchmen marching Flip through the city walls.  The witch was arrested but he knew it did not make up for his failure.

He grew uneasy. He descended into the manor yard where the remaining watchmen were documenting reports from the farmers on what happened.

Theodore found the hilt of the knife in the mud. Fragments of the blade were scattered, half buried. Even though he told the watchmen what he had done, the evidence went uncollected. No note was made of his confession. It felt like his mistake would be forgotten.

He spent a few minutes picking the shards out of the muck. Shame hung like a stone around his neck.

“Theo!!”

Theodore’s self-loathing was interrupted. Oboe swung him off his feet and pulled him into a crushing hug.

“I’m sorry!” She said, on the brink of tears. “I wasn’t there to help! I’m sorry I ran off! I’m useless!”

Theodore struggled to get free. “Oboe—”

“All I did was get myself captured!” She said. “Look at you, you’re all beat up! I messed up so bad!

“Oboe!”

“I know you won’t want me around anymore, but please let me stay! I just wanted to make sure we did things right!!”

“Oboe!” He raised his voice. “Put me down!”

Blinking, she set him on the ground.

Theodore straightened his glasses. “There is no reason for you to apologize. I’m the one who should be sorry.” He softened, relieved that Oboe was okay. “The only reason I was able to stop Flip is because you kept investigating. I should’ve listened to you from the start.”

Her eyes wide, startled by the recognition. “I did okay?”

“More than okay,” he said. “I couldn’t ask for a better partner. Thank you.”

She burst into tears. Theodore was uncertain of what to do. He reached out to give her a reassuring pat and was pulled into another massive hug. She sobbed into his shoulder, dribbling snot.

“Yay,” she in a soft squeek.

Lieutenant Fritz coughed for attention. He was standing off to the side, looking uncomfortable.

“Well,” he said. “As you can see we recovered the faun from the witch’s hideout, per your instructions.”

“Oh!! I forgot!” Oboe dropped Theodore and ran off. She brought back a hulking chest that she dropped at Theodore’s feet. “Look! I brought all this evidence! Look!”

Theodore peeked inside. It was overflowing with illegal magic product collected from Flip’s shop. Dubious potions, enchanted weapons, and forbidden spell components.

“She was insistent and thorough,” Fritz said with visible irritation.

“Incredible.” Theodore felt overwhelmed. “There will be no way for Flip to escape conviction with all this evidence.”

“Deputy!” Captain Myra Redriver strutted up to join them with Wendy, Alderman and the remainder of the watchmen in tow. “This is the man who attacked you, isn’t he? I want to hear it firsthand.”

“You don’t gotta make him say it.” Pearce hung his head. “I did it, alright? Devil damn me. I thought it was the right thing to do.”

“There was no lasting damage,” Theodore said. “I believe he’s learned his lesson.”

Myra shook her head, grim. “Lessons are great and all, but this is a serious. Assault on an appointed officer is a breach of the Hierarchy. The Alderman will have to be detained until a Justice decides whether he’s still fit to lead.”

Wendy pressed a hand to Pearce’s chest, looking up into his eyes.

“Will you wait for me?” Pearce said.

“As long as it takes, my love,” Wendy said.

They were permitted an embrace and then the Alderman was taken away. Theodore watched, thinking on his own mistake. How close had he brushed with tragedy? How much of this was his fault? Theodore reached into his pocket and felt the hilt of the broken knife. It was proof of his failure as Ranger Deputy. There was one last thing left to be done to make this right.

Theodore placed the shattered knife on the desk of Governor Farbend. He took a seat and looked his boss in the eye.

“I used an illegal enchantment to wrongfully capture an innocent creature,” he said. “I am a disgrace to my office. I am prepared to accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate.”

The plump old man studied the fragments a moment and raised an eyebrow. “What is this? Your way of trying to quit?”

“No,” Theodore said. “I accept that this is my assignment. That doesn’t change the fact that I abused my authority. I caved under pressure during an investigation and acted out of fear. I am unfit to be trusted with power.”

The Governor smirked. “Well then.” He got up. “Apart from all that, how has the position treated you?”

Theodore found the question irrelevant. “…It’s been… challenging, to say the least. I worry I am causing more problems than I am solving.” He gave the filing cabinets a longing gaze. “I miss my old job. Everything is so much more clear cut in the Bureaucracy Dome. But… I am trying to apply myself as you asked. The Whirlwood creatures need a lot of help, and I’m trying to play the part. I’m learning, thanks to a subordinate I recruited. Someone I should trust more than I have.”

Mr. Farbend nodded. He looked out the office window watch the bustle in the city below. “Captain Redriver has been singing your praises. Red Cap activity has dropped to almost nothing since you started. I expect you to continue this trend.”

“Sir?” Theodore was growing impatient. “I came to talk to you about the massive creature rights violation I committed.”

Mr. Farbend waved him away. “My boy, this isn’t the first or last time something like this has occurred.”

Theodore found this difficult to process. “I am a government agent and I broke the human-ghast peace treaty.”

“It’s already taken care of,” Farbend said. “The witch you apprehended had a prolific rap sheet. It was a simple matter to amend an extra charge. It’s no foul if an outlaw was responsible.”

Theodore could not believe what he was hearing “But I’m the one who did it! And… and the Tall Man, the ghast I captured…”

Mr. Farbend rested a callused hand on Theodore’s shoulder. “The crown has already reached an agreement with the creature in question. It will not be an issue.”

Theodore felt paralyzed. He looked at his employer as if he were an imposter. This was the man tasked with keeping order in the Capital. How could he disregard a crime of this magnitude so casually?

“If we fired someone every time something like this happened, the government would never be able to operate,” Mr. Farbend said. “Go home, Grayweather. I expect to hear great things about you in the coming weeks. Your father would be proud.”

Speechless, Theodore staggered out the door. He presented himself to this office expecting to be exiled, incarcerated, or perhaps even executed. He left feeling far heavier than when he arrived. The trek back to the valley was long, but now felt like an eternity.

When he passed through the city gates into the valley he found Oboe waiting for him. She was sitting on low stone wall on the edge of the trade road.

“How’d it go?” She said. “Are you okay?”

He sat beside her. “He let me go. Didn’t even write me up for it. Nothing.”

“Oh.” She offered an unsure smile. “Then it’s fine, right?”

“Fine?” Theodore said. “No! It’s not fine! I screwed up! I wanted to make it right, but he wouldn’t let me! What am I supposed to do?”

Oboe looked down, something weighing on her. 

“…Sometimes you do things wrong, and nothing you can do can change what happened. Sometimes there is no way to fix it. That’s how it is. Life doesn’t stop when that happens though. All you do is keep going. Try not to make the mistakes again. Learn something if you can. Do the best you can. That’s what Thistle tells me. It’s hard.”

She held his hand. Theodore felt some of the heaviness lift. She was right. The only thing he could control was what he did in the future. He ran a hand over the ring locked to his finger. He took a deep breath and swore to himself that he would never hurt another creature again.

Oboe got to her feet, and pulled Theodore onto his.

“C’mon. Let’s go.”

Theodore emerged from a fog, rain sluicing down the rooftops and trailing down the bend of the street. The wet and the cold sent a shiver through his skin. He hurried up the steps towards the University, its windows bright beacons in the gloom. Warmth washed over as he pushed open the door and stepped into the glow inside.

“There you are!” Adjunct Kirkwin said as he took his sopping coat. Theodore was surprised to find himself wearing a teacher’s robe underneath, tailored perfect to fit him. “The students are waiting! I was terrified I’d have to stand in for you!”

Theodore checked his pocket watch, saw numbers, and was mortified. “Forgive me,” he said. “The storm kept me.”

“It doesn’t matter, you’re here now!” Kirkwin said, pulling him forward. “Go!”

Theodore’s footsteps echoed off the golden halls of the University. Monuments to the founding Scholars towered over him, each rendered in a pose of inspiration or study. He passed into the library, where endless shelves stretched into the horizon. It was alive with students putting that wisdom to work.

Theodore was awestruck. It was all he could do to keep moving. When did the University become so large? A suspicion that something was wrong crept over him, but then he remembered renovations were completed last week. Satisfied, he pushed the matter out of his thoughts.

The auditorium was packed with young minds eager to learn. Their eyes lit up when they saw Theodore. They whispered about how excited they were to take and how dignified Theodore looked. The rain pattered against the window glass but could not get inside. Theodore took his place at the lectern.

“I apologize for my tardiness,” Theodore said. “I promise to set a better example for you all in the future.”

He uncovered the chalkboard to reveal a diagram of a human, a faun, and a bogeyman. Each body was charted with flowing lines.

“If you completed the assigned reading, you should now be familiar with the difference between raw wild magic, its fossilized form, and the sterilized man-made crystals that we use here on campus. Today we will be discussing how these types of thaumaturgical energy interact with the biology of various forms of life. Would any of you like to start us off by explaining why we need to purify before use?”

Every student in the auditorium raised a hand. Drowning in choices, Theodore selected a young woman in the third aisle to speak. She stood up.

“According to Dr. Thomas Redfetter’s Ruminations of Sorcery and Health, revised volume two, pages three-hundred twenty-one through three-hundred twenty-two, given the human body cannot naturally separate thaumaturgy from ether, ether will erode the circulatory system and create crippling inflammation if exposed in greater volume than the liver can remove in time. Calcification of magic separates ether from thaumaturgy, and allows us to harness its energy safely.”

“Precisely!” Theodore said, choosing not to mention that she used an improper citation form. “The primary thing that distinguishes fairies and ghasts from humans and ferals is that their bodies operate on an ether based circulatory system. While ether is toxic to us, it is necessary for the magical creature’s survival. A fairy, for example, that lives outside a place of ambient magic such as the Whirlwood will suffer stunted growth.”

“Wow!” One of the students leapt to his feet. “That’s incredible! I’m learning so much in this class!!”

Theodore frowned. “I appreciate your passion, but we have a lot of material to cover, so please calm down.”

“I can’t!” Another student was hyperventilating. “You’re blowing my mind over here! I’m freaking out!”

The rain grew louder. Wind rattled the window panes, but Theodore knew he mustn’t look at it. He focused his attention on his students.

“Learning is a journey, not a race,” he said. “Soothe yourself and we may continue.”

They did not calm down. The muttering spread through the class. The students grew loud, their voices rising and breathless. They spoke over one another, saying nothing, filling the room with noise.

“Stop that!” Theodore said. “I know this class is exciting, but this is getting out of hand!”

Thunder shook the classroom. Students screamed and then screamed louder. Theodore covered his ears but it was not enough. Lightning tore through the ceiling and let in a torrent of rain. The lamps went out and the students vanished. In their place, at the door of the classroom, was a man Theodore knew to be dead. Through the raging storm, Theodore saw the corpse of his father, Lance Grayweather, staring at him.

Theodore woke from his nightmare. He searched for his glasses in panic and tried to make sense of his situation. The first ember glow of dawn peeked through the window. He was alone, sitting in bed. His mind cleared. He was at home at the Ranger Deputy cottage, deep in the Whirlwood forest, right where he was supposed to be. A chill reached up his arm. He climbed out of bed and found the window hanging open. He must’ve left it unlatched again. The nightmare was a fairy dream, and nothing more.