Oz turned the pill bottle over in his hand. He pursed his lips. Take the pills? Don’t take them?

I don’t think Sachairi wants me dead. It’s probably safe.

On the other hand, I don’t know what kind of pills these are. I’d literally be taking unlabeled pills from someone I don’t know that well. That’s ‘don’t do it’ 101 from my world. Good way to get yourself killed.

Though, you know, I did it once or twice back in my world, and they were perfectly ordinary painkillers every time. So it’s not like it’s take strange pill, instant death. And so far, everything Sachairi—or really Aisling, but since Sachairi is her Master, I can consider them to be gifts from him—the point is, everything they’ve given me has been benign or beneficial. He has no reason to suddenly about-face and toss me something dangerous. In fact, these pills might even unlock some great leap in strength, the way the Meridian Knot Roots did.

He looked at the pills, then gritted his teeth and shook his head. On the other hand… ‘maybe something good will happen?’ Yeah. Sketchy as fuck.

Who can I consult about this? Linnea? No… I don’t want her to know I’m allied with Sachairi. She belongs to the Ashen Sect, for one, and I don’t know what kind of terms her and Aisling’s sects are on. Sure, the two of them get along fine, so they aren’t at odds or anything, but on the other hand, Aisling’s sect did invite my old eye-plucking bully to their ball, so I’m not sure them getting along fine means they won’t sabotage one another.

“Speaking of, can we go back to that? Eye-plucking bullies are just a thing in this world? That’s normal and okay? His ass isn’t in jail?” Oz muttered aloud.

Admittedly, I don’t know the circumstances, but there better be a hell of a circumstance for eye-plucking to be considered acceptable. Either that, or this world is truly a dog-eat-dog world.

A gentle purr and the brush of soft fur interrupted his thoughts. Oz looked down to find Sid winding between his feet. Kneeling, he picked her up. “Why did Fenrir tell me to bring you?”

Wait. Fenrir. He seemed high-level. Maybe he knows something about fifth-level pills.

Sid mewed. She tilted her head, then opened her mouth. Her body jerked.

Oz jolted. “Whoa, whoa!” He whipped around, searching for a safe place to put the cat before the hairball.

“…a rather interesting case. I’m not sure what engendered the sudden change in demeanor…”

Startled, Oz turned again. There’s someone in the library?

Only Sid stared back at him. A pleasant female voice issued from her throat, her mouth open wide, the sound emerging from within her.

“You… can talk?” Oz guessed, lost.

The voice issuing from Sid abruptly swapped to male. “Indeed. We ought to keep an eye on Ossian. Perhaps the rumors—”

Oz startled. That’s not just a male voice. That’s Gregoir’s voice! And the other one… Madame Ide! He looked Sid up and down, then stared directly at her. “You can record voices?”

Sid tilted her head, her mouth still wide open.

No wonder Fenrir told me to take her!

The voices continued speaking. Oz fell silent, listening.

“But let’s not be ridiculous. Perhaps the change in his demeanor is rooted in his suddenly finding his social situation much changed. Many people bloom, when given the opportunity,” Madame Ide pointed out.

“It’s true. Still, sending your youngest disciples… it’s an odd request.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Not so odd after all. I know it’s hard for someone who’s always been strong to imagine, Gregoir, but those of us who were once weak understand the paranoia that comes with it.

“In any case, I won’t send them thoughtlessly, and I’ll inspect them upon return. If he does anything to harm them, you can trust I will be the first to act. I’m merely of the opinion that it will not come to that.”

Madame Ide’s voice faded as the sentence finished, so that Oz had to lean in to catch anything more. With the final word, it faded entirely to silence.

He drew Sid away from his face. “Did you hear anything else? Maybe… from Cecil Daggarty?”

Sid blinked at him, licking her lips. After a moment, her mouth opened again. This time, it was Cecil’s voice that issued past her fangs.

“Continue as you’ve been. Befriend him. The time shall come.”

Oz raised his brows. Continue? Befriend? Cecil Daggarty’s from the Sun Cult, and the only member of the Sun Cult I’ve let into my library is Roan. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out who he’s talking to.

Guess I’ll continue keeping my eye on Roan. For now, I think it’s best to allow him access to the library. Keep enemies closer than friends, and all. Whatever he does will indicate to me what Cecil Daggarty’s goals are, and knowing what that man wants from me is better than floundering in the dark, trying to guess how he’s going to attack the library.

“Anything else?” he asked Sid, as she hung silently in his arms.

Sid meowed.

“Right, guess not.” He set her down. Which means it’s time to pay a visit to Fenrir.

Crossing the room, he tipped the book, and the seal behind the desk rotated open. Oz vanished into the darkness. Sid trilled after him, then followed, sticking close to his heels. As the chill of the earth washed over them, she morphed into a longhair calico and gave herself a good shake.

Passing by the ominous lighting, Oz hurried to Fenrir’s chamber. The chains creaked as he approached, Fenrir waking even before the torches mysteriously lit themselves. He looked up, wild blue eyes searing past his unkempt white hair.

“Back so soon?” he murmured.

Oz nodded at the manacles. “Is there anything I can do to make them less painful? Rags, padding, something?”

Fenrir looked at his wrists, then laughed dryly. “If you knew why I was down here, you’d add thorns instead.”

“Then, will you tell me?”

Fenrir gave a hollow smile, revealing those fangs of his.

“Didn’t think so. No, I come on business.”

“No one visits a dank hole in the ground for pleasure.” Fenrir paused, then smiled slowly. “Well. Most people don’t—”

“I received a bottle of pills from a senior mage,” Oz quickly interrupted. He held them up.

Fenrir leaned in. He looked the bottle up and down, the antlers bobbing. He pursed his lips, then nodded slowly. Flicking his eyes at Oz, he tipped his head. “They’re very nice.”

Oz sighed, already exhausted. “I was hoping you’d know more than that.”

“I do.”

Oz waited. Fenrir waited as well.

Lifting his hands to his temples, Oz slowly shook his head. Deep breath. Deep breath, Oz. Okay. Treat him like a computer. You can’t ask him if he knows about the pills. The answer is ‘yes.’ You’ve got to ask the right questions if you want the right answers.

“What kind of pills are they?”

Fenrir’s eyes glittered. “Dreaming pills.”

“Dreaming pills?” Oz asked.

“Indeed.”

Right questions, Oz. Right questions. “What do dreaming pills do?”

“What do you actually want to know?” Fenrir asked him, almost purring.

Oz frowned at him. What’s that supposed to mean? Do you think I’m asking questions for fun?

Taking advantage of the silence, Sid wound between Oz’s legs and mewed at Fenrir. Fenrir glanced at her, then smiled. “You enjoyed the party? I’m glad to hear it.”

Oz looked at Sid. “You can talk?” Record voices, shapeshift, talk, what can’t Sid do?

“Of course she can. All animals can, if you know how to listen.”

“She’s a fey, not an animal,” Oz said, tilting his head.

“A fey beast,” Fenrir clarified. “Now. What do you really want to know?”

Oz tucked that thought away in his head for later and held up the pills again, looking at them himself. What do I really want to know? He paused. “Will these pills harm me?”

Fenrir tilted his head. “Anything, used incorrectly, can be harmful.” He paused, just long enough for Oz to heave a sigh and open his mouth, then finished, “but used in moderation, these pills are as safe as any pill you can take.”

“What will they do to me?”

“Make you dream,” Fenrir said.

Walked right into that one. “Er, do I have another question?”

Fenrir gestured, clattering his chains. “You have as many questions as I have patience to answer them… or you, will to drag them out of me.”

Oz looked at the pills again, then at Fenrir. “Why would someone give me these pills?”

“Do they like you?” Fenrir asked, a playful light in his eyes.

“I think so…” Oz caught his meaning a moment later and narrowed his eyes. “Not like that.”

Fenrir chuckled. He pointed at the pills. “If someone who likes you gave you those pills, they likely did it with your wellbeing in mind.”

With my wellbeing in mind. Oz tossed the pills in one hand, thinking, then nodded. “Thank you, Fenrir. Is there anything I can do to return the favor?”

“I do like you a bit, so perhaps you can try not dying for a while. I actively dislike most of the other librarian candidates out there,” Fenrir said, shrugging.

Oz nodded. “I’ll do that, thanks.” He walked away, waving at Fenrir over his shoulder.

Fenrir watched him, his eyes glittering long after the lights faded away. “Good luck.”