The remainder of their trip to town was surprisingly quiet. Eric’s oddly manic euphoria; a combination of post battle high and triumph over insanely perilous odds while unlocking skills he had feared lost to him had all been replaced by an odd sense of melancholy.

  As if he had somehow lost out on taking advantage of a once-in-a-lifetme opportunity, a Gentle Fate or Slice-of-Life storyline that he could never get back.

  Then he flashed a bitter smile, gazing at the wolves, several now docilely dragging the wagon whose axle had been replaced with Ivan’s help and know-howl. One made of horse hide and bone that Eric had forged as easily as shaping clay in his hands. A creation that had actually earned a smile from Ivan even if the man had been pale as a sheet.

  And when the man had gazed upon the remains of his savaged and disemboweled horse, of course Eric had immediately understood.

  “Eric…”

  He quickly shook his head. “Don’t worry, I’m not…” He took a shuddering breath. “We’ll honor your horse with a burial.”

  Ivan had blinked, surprised and genuinely touched… even if he winced a bit at the sight of a dozen revenant wolves making surprisingly short work of the loamy ground, chewing out great big hunks before leaping out of the growing pit to spit out their excavation until Eric and Ivan solemnly laid the remains to rest and buried the poor creatures.

  “Thank you, Eric.” Ivan forced a nervous smile. “Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t, well…”

  Eric quickly shook his head. “No, I didn’t. For a couple reasons. For one thing,” he gazed up at the brooding overcast sky. “I’m not a complete fool. I sense how distressed Enigma… or the millions upon millions of lost souls from a version of reality that didn’t quite make it, yet its timeline somehow merged with ours, such that they truly passed on, now so concentrated in this pocket realm that it’s like soup… I sensed how deeply distressed they already were. Or, perhaps we should simply say the added field of reality you call Enigma here.”

  He gave his increasingly strained-looking friend a conciliatory smile. “Yeah. We’ll go with that. Forget my earlier blather. Anyway, I’m sensitive enough to feel Enigma’s discontent… so we reached an understanding.”

  Now it was Agda, seeming lost in her own thoughts, who turned at Eric with a hawk’s intensity. “Truly, Eric? You reached an understanding with reality itself?”

  Eric grinned. “Call it what you will.” His smile hardened. “I gave my oath to raise no more revenants while I was here, so long as my life was not in immediate, dire peril. But I would not apologize for the wolves already at my beck and call. For as much as I am truly grateful for the days I spent under your care, and as much as I might .wish it to be otherwise…”

  He gave a cool shake of his head. “This is no slice-of-life isekai. It’s only by unexpected providence and a really, really powerful benefactor that I was even able to blossom two levels. And the fact that I unlocked my Profession is another wild twist. And as to how powerful my wolves really are…” He shrugged. “Even if they’re no more powerful than what any 200 pound wolf would normally be, I’d be a fool to decline the services of a dozen powerful bodyguards, fast and strong, for the duration of my stay here.”

  Ivan furrowed his brow. “Hopefully, the worst is past. Arguably with the alpha wolf and his pack destroyed… but no. We still need supplies to replace what was lost or damaged, and I now have no horse at all. Fortunately, we still have quite a selection of heirlooms to sell that I have been putting off for far too long. And I have no doubt they will be of interest to a certain dwarven trader, if no one else.”

  Eric grinned. “Exactly. And even if the worst has past, there’s no harm in a dozen bodyguards flanking us, just to cover for any unexpected plot twists in the story of our lives until we get you provisioned, secured, and safely back home. Don’t you think?”

  This earned a rueful chuckle. “I’d accuse you of paranoia… if I weren’t walking beside a dozen animated wolves making it clear that it is I who have been living with my eyes closed to the power and peril that this world offers, not you.”

  Agda’s features shifted from tension to dismay to what seemed genuine sorrow.

  “Eric, what do you even mean by…” She swallowed, shaking her head as she kissed her sleeping daughter’s brow. “No, that’s not important.” She took a shuddering breath. “So, you’ll be leaving then?”

  Eric gave her a gentle smile. “Eventually, I will have to. There’s no question about that. Yet still...” He closed his eyes, tears streaming free as he took a deep breath, shivering with wonder as he mastered the gentle art of cycling his Qi along the most basic of meridian patterns while he walked along the path before him. “I’ll be back, I promise you that. For this place is a miracle. And with Enigma once more kindly disposed toward me… hopefully? This place holds a wondrous secret that I am very, very interested in preserving for all time.”

  Agda furrowed her brow, though her lips quirked in a half smile. “Your words are truly odd, Eric. But I’m glad to hear that you’ll be back.”

  Eric grinned. “And quickly too, I promise you, assuming your scholarly friends in town can aid me in my quest.”

  To this Agda flushed. “Let’s just say that not all the Enigmatics take kindly to, well… Wise Ones who walk a more intuitive path.”

  “They will use the words witches, even if it was once a burning offense,” Ivan warned.

  Eric’s jaw clenched at that. His pack immediately raised their heads as one, gazing his way, instantly sensing his tension. Ready to act in concert in the blink of an eye.

  Eric took a steadying breath. “Do you think that will be a problem now?”

  Ivan’s eyes widened, immediately sensing the change in the wolves’ temperament.

  “They’re far more than you’re tamed beasts, I see.”

  Eric shrugged. “You could say that.”

  This earned a snort. “Fortunately no, Eric. The Enigmatics put a stop to the witch burning in Salem themselves. Those inquisitors who refused to curb their ways were swiftly… dealt with.”

  Eric flashed a fierce smile. “Good.”

  “But that was decades ago. The Enigmatics now consider themselves more scholars than warriors, and our mayor isn’t on the best of terms with our local college branch.”

  Agda chuckled softly. “Mayor Stibbs seems to think they should be his personal enforcers and servants. But Master Oliver has different ideas.”

  Eric’s smile vanished. He managed to trip over his own feet, much to his own embarrassment at the snort this earned, before brushing himself off and gazing intently at Agda who’s twinkling eyes faded into an anxious look. “Eric?”

  He ignored the hawklike stare Ivan was suddenly giving him, all his eyes intently on Agda.

  “Wait, did you say Mayor Stibbs?”

  Agda furrowed her brow, slowly nodding. “Yes, I did. Do you know him?”

  Eric opened his mouth, before slowly closing it, forced to shake his head. “Shit… maybe I don’t?” He sighed, thoughts whirling, not really knowing what to think.

  Was it a coincidence? Was it the same backbiting asshole that had caused him and his friends such perilous hardship over a year ago? Even if they had managed to come out of that entanglement as absolute winners, using carelessly tossed out words to rob a bank vault of a massive fortune in gold. But only after fleeing for their lives and nearly being killed by slavers.

  The name could be a coincidence, entirely. And even if it wasn’t… the Ron of today who had fought so hard for his corpmates in the Silver Griffins was the farthest thing from the jaded sellout he had been in a life that only he and a few others truly recalled in full.

  He flinched, still haunted by the memory of a beautiful freckle-faced girl who, for a brief period in time, had her soul kindle to life beside his own.

  Bright enough that even after falling into peril’s embrace, he had seen her spark flare to life upon the remains of Mord, his inner Phoenix careful to allow that tiny spark of potential to claim what it could… even if she was simply a soul fueling herself for a future life that would be wondrous and grand.

  He shook away the troubling thoughts. “Okay, so we have a Mayor Stibbs. And for all I know, he’s absolutely nothing like the one I knew, so fresh chances all around, I suppose.”

  Agda blinked at this. “Wait, you know a Mayor Stibbs?”

  Eric smirked. “Small world, right? Maybe it’s a twin. They probably have nothing in common.”

  Agda had only nodded at that as they continued their trek past apple groves and rolling fields, her hand at one point slipping into his.

  Eric couldn’t help but smile, all the more so when Agda flashed a sheepish grin. “Eric? Father needs to keep his rifle at the ready. Would you be okay if…”

  He solemnly nodded, his arms now filled with a beautiful sleeping angel whose soft downy hair smelled of heaven and sunshine as the mist eventually burned away to reveal a deep blue sky and the gentle rays of the afternoon sun.

  Eric swallowed the lump in his throat when the air rang with Agda’s lilting voice, speaking words he couldn’t for the life of him understand, but suspected it was the song of her homeland, Emily now smiling in her sleep.

  Eric found himself blinking away tears for the beauty all around him, for the pastoral landscape with the view of the distant sea beyond this version of New York that they now approached.

  It was absolutely breathtaking.

  Eric’s hair was gently ruffled by a breeze smelling of wildflowers, turned fields, and a realm at peace with his oath, the air filled with the sweet dulcet notes of a beautiful woman, Eric in that moment feeling more at peace with the world than he had in a very long time.

  It was a sense of peace that lasted past the rows of cottages lining the road, each with a glorious profusion of flowers and tidy produce gardens that soon became two story wooden buildings with shop signs and windows giving glimpses of pottery, wooden cabinets, produce, housewares and everything a 17th or 18th century homestead might need, the air now bustling with the sounds of hawkers and tradesfolk, busy looking youths and common laborers wearing smocks and woolen caps as well as distinguished gentlemen wearing tricorn caps, embroidered waistcoats, and knee breaches.

  He wasn’t quite sure of the customs of this place and time but he was quietly relieved to see a few elegantly dressed women who looked pleased enough with their state of affairs, for all that they carefully raised the hems of their skirts to avoid the mud on the road as they rapidly approached the heart of this city.

  Eric then turned to admire the well-constructed brownstone buildings standing a good three or even four stories high, determined to savor the moment, even if a few of the better dressed folk were now looking askance at the twelve perfectly docile wolves all but prancing with their graceful steps by Eric’s side.

  “What manner of beast is that, George?”

  “Wolfhound, darling. No doubt.”

  “Is he a trainer?”

  “They’re hunters, of course. You can tell by the wild look in their eyes. Useful chaps for protecting livestock and clearing the land of dangerous predators. No doubt they’re here with Stibb’s blessing.”

  “But they have a girl with a child! What has that poor thing been forced to endure?”

  “Surely none of our business, darling. Come. We’re expected at Claridges for dinner.”

  Eric grinned and dipped his head at the well-heeled couple’s assertion. Even though his revenants looked nothing like wolfhounds, for people who had never actually seen a wolfhound, he supposed it was reasonable assumption to think that they looked like actual wolves.

  Eric turned and winked at an exasperated looking Ivan.

  “Told you.”

  “Their eyes are glowing, Eric.”

  He shrugged. “Everyone’s seen cat’s eyes glow when the light hits them just right. Clearly, this is the same thing.”

  “Eldritch green flame?”

  “Have you never seen a cat on All Hallow’s Eve?”

  Agda actually snorted at that. “He’s right, Father. The town cats do look awfully fey, that night.”

  “But All Hallow’s was three weeks ago!”

  Agda’s eyes lit up with relief, or perhaps just for the sake of distraction, gently holding her baby with one hand while pointing to a building that somehow managed to look just like the Church of Solace.

  Eric’s eyes widened as he took in the marble and ivory, the stained glass windows and towering steeple, even the vegetable garden with a spattering of ornamental flowers.

  Even the way the leaves swayed upon the stalks of the plants.

  It eerily matched what he had last glimpsed just a few days before, a realm away.

  All of it was exactly the same.

  “Eric? We’re here.” Agda’s relieved smile turned to a look of concern when she caught Eric’s haunted gaze. “Eric, are you okay?”

  He forced a smile, taking a deep breath that smelled of wildflowers and horse smoke, with just a faint trace of horse dung as the air rang with the sound of distant people hawking their wares and children at play. “Never better. We’re here, I take it?”

  Agda nodded happily, shifting her daughter who was presently sleeping quite snugly, carefully wrapped up in one of their salvaged woolen blankets. “Yes. And if fortune favors us, Headmaster Oliver will be here as well.”

  Ivan frowned at their mounts. “Let’s just hope that the sight of such unorthodox magics doesn’t cause us undue… angels’ above!”

  Eric flashed a cheeky grin, a careful eye making it clear that no one was paying them any undue mind for him to clench his fist and invoke the gentlest of commands… and the dozen wolves vanished, along with collars now counting as a part of their kit, leaving only the wagon behind.

  I slight complication which Eric hadn’t entirely thought through, but at least he found absolutely no pressure, strain, or issue at all with storing his revenants.

  Then he froze, gazing at his ring in horror. “Fuck!”

  “Eric, the wolves vanished!” Agda’s eyes lit with wonder that quickly became concern. “Did you somehow—Eric?”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Eric said nothing, just gazing at his serpentine ring with a sense of awful dismay. For the priceless treasure held only a single loop… that was now entirely full.

  “Eric, what’s wrong?”

  Eric clenched his fists, eyes squeezed shut, heart pounding.

  “No. I did not lose my ultimate trump card simply because I was willing to take a gentler path. No way in hell anyone or anything dispelled 3 million, a hundredfold what a Dreadlord had at their disposal from a Gold-tier treasure. No. Fucking. Way!”

  He felt a hand gently grip his own. Heard a young child’s whimper, and the growing worry in Agda’s voice.

  “Eric, please be okay. Oliver’s coming out right now, and we really need you to be—”

  “Ivan! As I live and breathe. It’s good to see you! Agda as well. And who is this fine young man? He wouldn’t happen to be your…”

  Eric forced his eyes open, taking a shuddering breath, thoughts racing. Suddenly sure he understood. Praying he understood. He had taken this mission on in good faith, and was now in a ream so thick in Enigma that he had been, effectively, entirely suppressed.

  Eve had been able to grant him a couple of precious levels only be serendipity, and him following rules and codes that allowed for Gold-Tier intervention. That, and consuming the heart of his prey and ascending a skill or two… those precious paths to power were all that had allowed him to grow in power so quickly… at least compared to a rank 1 Conscript.

  Yet all his treasures, his prizes, his abilities had utterly suppressed.

  Save for those arts that were somehow tied to Terra itself. For Necromancy and Bloodmagic having always been Humanity’s birthright… and even if he was capable of no more than summoning revenants from his own kills in battle, even that was a monstrous edge. So was it so strange that his ring was still suppressed? Save for the single pack he had summoned… before giving his oath to summon no more while he was here.

  Perhaps it wasn’t about him losing access to millions of Bronze-Tier souls that would probably rupture this realm, especially when he had already agreed to walk a gentler path and seek to claim New York’s hidden boons that would empower the entire state, perhaps even the Continent.

  Mayhap it was simply about him being allowed access to the dozen he had claimed. As per his oath. And the less time his wolves spent outside his ring, the less risk of unexpected strain and repercussions, and the truer the living story of this place would play out.

  He gave nodded to himself, relieved to find that his desperate cope actually made sense. He had summoned forth the wolves to assure his safety and survival when he was at his absolute most vulnerable. Now that they were safely in town and didn’t need to make waves… he was just grateful he could effortlessly put them away, sensing as well that summoning them forth once more would be effortless.

  As for other hidden secrets his ring contained, entire armies perhaps… mayhap it was best if he didn’t push. Lest he destroy every treasure he hoped to preserve… both fragile human lives and wondrous golden keys alike.

  “Eric, focus!”

  Eric snapped his eyes open, forcing an apologetic grimace as he beheld the countenance of a distinguished looking man wearing a dark woolen coat over a red vest, his grey hair tied back with a black silver ribbon as he favored Eric with a friendly, clean-shaven smile.

  “It is a wonder, isn’t it? Be at ease. The collegium has that effect on many people who’ve never glimpsed the glorious cathedrals of England in all their majesty and marvel.”

  Eric blinked at that, following it up with the obvious question. “So the collegium is also a cathedral?”

  The man gave an awkward chuckle. “Serendipity works in mysterious ways, does it not? It is true that our college has opened its doors to several non denominational priests who hold service here twice a week.” He smiled warmly. “Truly, it works to everyone’s benefit. In terms of supporting the town’s spiritual wellbeing and in facilitating positive relations between the Enigmatics and those who adhere to specific faiths.”

  He gave a bemused Eric an approving clap on the shoulder. “How it warms my heart to see such a bright-eyed youth, eyes filled with inspiration, wonder, and… love, perchance?”

  Agda’s cheeks flushed prettily. “He is the staunchest ally and friend one could hope to have. Honorable and upright, not shirking when times are perilous.”

  The man chuckled approvingly. “Definitely a worthy companion to have then. So, how can I assist you on this fine day, Agda, Ivan, and…”

  “Eric.”

  “Eric.” His beaming smile grew curious. “And I can’t help but notice that your cart is free of any horse?”

  Eric forced a chuckle. “Let’s just say that Ivan and I definitely earned ourselves a drink, when this day is done.”

  The man’s gaze grew solemn. “Indeed. Please, call me Oliver. No need for us to worry about rank in informal, friendly company. Would you all care to join me for some tea? I’ll have someone help you with your cart.”

  Agda exchanged a glance with her father. “That would be much appreciated, Oliver. Thank you kindly!”

  “Wonderful. Come! I’m eager about what leads you to our humble abode.”

  And in very short order, Eric found himself sipping tea and munching on a silver platter of freshly baked scones. Eric and his companions were resting upon finely made chairs while Oliver took his ease behind a hardwood desk in the heart of a well-appointed study lined with oak bookshelves filled with leatherbound volumes. The chamber was warmly lit by the light coming through the stained glass windows and a crystal chandelier overhead, the woolen burgundy rug and the presently unlit fireplace adding warm notes to what would otherwise a very formal, almost intimidating chamber.

  “And that’s when we heard the howling of wolves… a full dozen slipping through the mist to surround us,” Ivan said, sharing the harrowing events of the afternoon.

  Oliver’s eyes widened, hanging onto their every word. “I have heard troubling accounts of wolves… and that several dozen farms have already been abandoned! If it were any earlier in the season, I’d fear for the wellbeing of our town. But since it’s only the after harvest produce and winter wheat crops that need tending… that’s a small blessing, at least. Though I fear that the price of meat will soon be outrageous, depending upon how much livestock those culprits claim.”

  Ivan and Agda exchanged a look, smiling perhaps a bit wider than the troubling conversation warranted, if their hosts suddenly furrowed brows were any indication.

  “Ivan?”

  “I don’t suppose our dear governor’s put up a bounty on wolves, has he?”

  Oliver’s eyes lit up at that. “By the light that illuminates, of course! You’ve successfully taken one down, scaring off the rest with your shot, no? And I’m guessing it cost you a horse, nonetheless.”

  Oliver flashed a consoling smile. “As a matter of fact, the mayor did just that. Raised the bounty too, when irate hunters and desperate farmers made it clear that the wolves were tricky, wily, fading out of sight whenever a large hunting party readied itself for a day-long expedition to hunt them down.” His guise grew troubled. “We had a smaller band of hunters, a husband and wife pair, also attempt to track down the wolves. The wife is native born. Bear clan. And quite a skilled huntress, even if she favors the bow.” The man sighed. “Neither have been heard from for days. We fear the worse.”

  Ivan clenched his jaw. “Sagar and Polly. Good hunters. Good friends. I pray they are alright.”

  “As do we all,” Oliver sighed.”

  Ivan gazed Eric’s way, as if for permission. He gave a slight nod.

  “I suspect wolves will be less of an issue now.”

  Oliver blinked at this, before his features lit in a brilliant smile. “Wonderful! To be honest, it was bothering us to no end that the Enigma was so indecipherable in this. It was shaking the town’s confidence in us, and Stibbs was more than happy to take advantage.” The man snorted, shaking his head even as he sipped his tea. “Stibbs would like the heads. I suspect he wishes to mount them in his study. A bit barbaric, I know.”

  “Since he wasn’t the one who killed them, it is,” Agda concurred while gently stroking her sleeping baby’s soft golden curls. “So, how much are these wolves worth?”

  “A full ounce of silver. Per wolf.”

  Father and daughter shared an awed glance. “That’s almost enough to buy two fully grown pigs or a cow at market!”

  Agda paled. “If he’s willing to offer such a bounty… that means the situation is already quite dire. I wouldn’t be surprised if that much silver only buys half a pig by winter’s end. How many people will starve this winter?”

  “None, if we can help it,” Oliver solemnly said. “My fellow Enigmatics and the priests who shepherd our town’s flock are of one mind on that.”

  Agda’s features lit up in a gentle smile. “You’re a good man, Oliver. No wonder the town thinks so highly of your college.”

  He dipped his head. “And we have independent farmers like you and your father to thank for it, growing such bountiful crops by the forest’s edge, for reasons hard to explain to anyone who doesn’t appreciate Enigma.” He gave a now blushing Agda a measuring look. “In all it’s manifestations.”

  “Lord Oliver…”

  He sighed. “This town needs Summer’s blessings more than ever, Agda. Even if you and your grandmother are at odds. Even if the seasons progress in ways that few of us .wish to acknowledge, and Autumn must become Winter as your clan advances the seasons and we wait for a new Spring to flourish,” he said with a gentle smile for Agda’s daughter.

  Agda flashed a bitter smile. “Grandmother will never forgive me for stealing endless Autumn away from her… even if she didn’t despise me enough to harm her own flesh and blood.”

  Eric blinked at such words said so calmly, so openly, yet all Oliver did was dip his head, Ivan gazing silently on.

  “Indeed. Yet trapping the seasons was doomed to folly. Didn’t the forest itself manifest as the satyr and make nature’s needs known?”

  Agda blushed furiously at this. Even Ivan’s brows furrowed.

  Oliver went back to sipping his tea. “And that is neither here nor there, of course. Just know that you are always welcome here, no matter your dispute with your grandmother or her issues with the Collegium. Now, how can this humble servant of Enigma and York’s newest colony be of service to you today?”

  Agda gazed at him for long moments before pulling out a fresh cluster of mushrooms with long stalks and medium caps, in addition to a cluster of asymmetrical shaped grey mushrooms that Eric knew tasted both briny and delicious in stew. “We harvested all the mushrooms you were hoping for. Including button tops and oyster clusters like these, in addition to my own bed of portabella, porcini, enoki, and chanterelle mushrooms.”

  Oliver’s eyes widened. “All of the varieties our cooks requested? Truly?”

  Agda flashed a merchant’s smile. “Three bushel’s worth. Prizes those damned wolves didn’t touch.”

  Oliver blinked, before taking a measured sip of tea. “Three bushels worth?”

  “Of each.”

  The man’s barely contained wonder turned to a hard look. “To have plundered your stock so thoroughly…”

  Agda’s smile hardened. “The mother stalks are hale and whole and will blossom with fresh buds next season. You know I’ve never had a bad mushroom in a single batch I’ve sold you. Not ever. And don’t for a moment think that I’ll sell these treasures for a single farthing less than they are worth. Not with what the dwarves are offering.”

  “Oh I wouldn’t dream of it!” He hastily assured. “You have the Collegium’s eternal gratitude… we’ll give you fifty percent over last season’s rates! Even more if you were, to, say, start a mushroom farm in a certain reserved corner of the root cellar?”

  This earned an arch look. “Tell me you never attempted such on your own?”

  The man gave a wry chuckle. “Clearly, we lacked Spring’s affinity or Summer’s bounty, no matter how deeply we embrace Enigma’s currents.”

  Agda flashed an enigmatic smile. “We’ll see. But first thing’s first, Oliver.”

  He gave a rueful chuckle when Agda presented her baskets, full of choice fungal treasures smelling delightfully of earthy loam and briny sea, before solemnly placing half a dozen shiny silver coins that Agda sent spinning upon the table in a move that caught even Eric off guard, before making them disappear as fast as any card sharp.

  “Fair trade,” she said with a pleased smile.

  “Fair trade,” Oliver agreed with a matching grin.

  “Now that that’s taken care of, I don’t suppose you managed to find any of the ones most useful to our cause?”

  Agda nodded, pulling out a mushroom with a purple cap and streaks of glittering silver that seemed so real, so dense with wondrous potential that the entire chamber lit up with a certain brightness, wonder, and liveliness it had been lacking before.

  Eric’s eyes widened. “You never sent me to—” his words cut off with a rueful smile, Magesight making it clear that this was a prize indeed. “Never mind.”

  “One gold crown per dozen,” Oliver whispered.

  Ivan, stone-faced until that moment, blinked in ill-concealed surprise.

  Even Agda blanched, took a deep breath, and slowly placed the mushroom on the table. “Oliver, that’s…” she shook her head. “That’s too much. This is beyond a few coppers above or below. We’re clan before we’re merchants.” Her cheeks flushed. “And I only managed to collect two dozen for trade.”

  “We’ll take them, gladly!” Oliver urged, an anxious look coming over his features. “Please, Agda. We don’t mind paying you top rate! We just… you can’t sell it to the dwarves, alright? The mists of Enigma are getting thicker, and we’re so close to a breakthrough! Should we actually unlock the secret of the sphere…”

  Agda’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait… truly? You’re close to awakening the globe?”

  The man stole a quick glance Eric’s way, before clearing his throat. “The globe… and the tome. The other treasures are still beyond us. But those two? Yes, my dear guardian of Spring and soon-to-be Summer. The secrets of our people will soon be ours once more.”

  Ivan chuckled. “Dare we even ask how much the dwarves will offer for such prizes?” he quipped, eyes clearly twinkling in jest.

  Yet Oliver’s look of panic was completely unexpected. “Four, Agda.”

  She paled at this. “Oh no… Oliver!”

  “Four gold crowns! Please, child. This has been a very, very trying year, and out of the hole town… only poor addled Lucy’s found a single one!”

  Agda bowed her head. “Well then, if things are so—” Her words cut off when her father cleared his throat, giving Eric a very pointed look. “I think we have another matter to address. Don’t you?”

  Oliver’s anxious expression turned to a tight hard frown as he peered Eric’s way, all his focus and attention now on his newest guest.

  Eric took a steadying breath, trying not to be discomforted or put on the defense by the man’s too intense gaze. Or the tension and near desperation he felt, already preparing for unreasonable and unexpected demands.

  Eric suppressed a smile. The man had no idea. Not yet.

  “And how may I be of assistance to you, young Eric?”

  Eric locked gazes with the man, deciding it was best just to say it, come what may. “I’m looking for a key.”

  Oliver’s eyes widened. He blanched, stealing a momentary look of hurt betrayal a suddenly blushing Agda’s way.

  “What do you know?”

  Eric forced a hard smile. “I know that far more is at stake than local politics or feral wolves or hunger. I know that the possibilities this town, or city, offers are virtually limitless, for those who have the wit to understand those truths.”

  The man crossed his arms, his gentle gaze of moments before hardening into a glare.

  “And what fell beast would you free with the key you seek?”

  “I would unite all the levels of—wait, what?”

  A confused Eric blinked.

  Oliver frowned. “What’s this about uniting?”

  Eric furrowed his brow. “Are we talking about the same thing?”

  The man snorted, taking a bemused sip of his tea. “Best we find that out. What exactly are you looking for?”

  “A key.”

  “A key can be a metaphor for many things.”

  Eric shook his head. “No. I mean a literal golden key. As much shadow and dream as physical, but very, very real.” His jaw hardened at the pained gasp he heard behind him.

  Oliver raised one eyebrow, pausing to take a bit of his scone. “So. You mean ‘key’ quite literally. Not, say, an crystalized egg?”

  Eric frowned at this, closing his eyes, checking his Interface quest messages very carefully.

  He slowly shook his head.

  “Nope. I’m pretty sure it’s a golden key that I’m after. Seems to be the theme with each of the shadow—I mean, towns I’m traveling through.”

  The Headmaster of the collegium smiled, a certain tension in the air Eric hadn’t even registered suddenly dissipating, which was of definite concern. Just how close had he come to a very bad situation?

  “Well I’m afraid, dear boy, that I can’t help you with any golden key. Though we do have a rosebush hedge maze in back that some fancy as being quite close to Enigma. Dare I say it, I suspect you’re far closer to the answer than you realize… though I can safely assure you we hold no place in that tale. But you’re more than free to explore the maze, should you desire. Young Enigmatics find it very good far parsing truth from delusion and finding the answers to questions they didn’t even know they had.”

  Eric blinked at this, halfway suspecting he knew where the man was going with his assertions… and halfway dreading it. “I see. Well, perhaps I will have to check out this maze, then. Thank you.”

  Oliver flashed a brilliant smile. “I do regret that we couldn’t do more for you, though of course you and your companions are more than welcome to stay with us for the duration of your visit in town. We’re expecting a fine venison stew… the benefit to hunts that were successful in other ways, though not wolf purging, sadly… spiced with a delightful selection of mushrooms!”

  Agda grinned. “We would love to stay, Oliver, and I’d enjoy helping out in the kitchen, as always.” She then solemnly handed the man a basket of white wicker that seemed to glow a purple-silver hue to Eric’s Mage Sight.

  The man gasped, eyes tearing up. “You’re willing to sell all of them to us, then?”

  Agda flashed a gentle smile. “Of course, Oliver. This town, our farm, is my home. Your fortune is our fortune. No matter what the dwarves might offer.” Her eyes twinkled. “Though I suppose I will be taking that gold after all.”

  Oliver favored them with a fatherly smile. “As well you should,” he said, handing her a tiny silk pouch. Agda didn’t bother checking with a transaction like this, merely passed the pouch to her father, who took a quick glance inside before giving a quick nod.

  “Wonderful!” The headmaster gave an approving clap. “This will help us to no end, I promise you. And if you wouldn’t mind seeing if they might find purchase in the maze…”

  Agda sighed. “We tried that last year as well…” Her gaze turned sympathetic. “But of course, Oliver. The mists have only grown, and I’ve grown as well. We can try it while Father and Eric gather the supplies we’ll need for the next month.”

  Ivan dipped his head. “A fine idea.” He then turned to Eric with a smile. “Come, Eric. To market. There are some folk I think you’d like to meet.”