Aisling emerged from the room frazzled, her nostrils flared, glaring off into the distance. Behind her, the assassin boy laughed defiantly. “Go on. Get out of here!”

“No joy?” Oz asked.

“I’m not very good at people,” Aisling bit, her lip twitching.

Fair enough, from the martial mage. I wasn’t expecting her to succeed. She was our only remaining member who hadn’t been part of team bad cop.

Who else do I have, though? Roan? Haaa… yeah, no. Even if I assume he isn’t in on it, he’s still a member of Cecil Daggarty’s sect. Word will get back to Cecil that I’m making friends with his assassin, if I have Roan be the one to do it.

Speaking of, ‘in on it…’ In on what? If Cecil sent the dust to reveal my ‘true form,’ does that mean he has a reason to suspect that I’m not human? Does he know that I was summoned here because he was one of the ones manipulating Ossian into summoning something? Or did he simply assume that the rumors that I’m a changeling are true?

It would be pretty crazy to pay to throw dust on me because of a rumor. But if Cecil is rich, and he should be, and that kid was as cheap as he was making himself out to be, maybe it wasn’t particularly expensive. Still crazy to go that far to test a rumor, but, well… people have done crazier things to test rumors back in my world. Hell, back in the medieval era, people got burned at the stake for rumors of witchcraft. I shouldn’t assume anything.

For now, we’ll move Cecil Daggarty one step up the suspiciousness ladder. This isn’t the smoking gun I was hoping for, but it’s better than the nothing I had before.

He sighed. We failed at getting the kid on our side, but I got the information I wanted. One out of two isn’t bad. Since we’re not getting him on our side, I guess we’ve got to lock him in the library.

I can’t let him go. He knows too much. If he overheard anything, we’re in trouble. Plus, he knows I know about Cecil, and that’s more than I want Cecil to know in the first place. It means tipping my hand that I’ve got the bare basic level of competence, but that’s a risk I have to take. Besides, maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world for my enemies to assume I’m a little tiny bit confident? Then, at least, they won’t send the garbage-bin assassins…

No, wait. I like the garbage-bin assassins! Always send the garbage-bin assassins, thanks!

Haaa. No helping it. Oz pushed off the wall and walked back into the pill room.

“Yeah, that’s right! You’re not going to hurt me now, so—”

“I wouldn’t assume that,” Oz muttered. He reached behind the kid and grabbed him by the back of the spider silk, circulating his cultivation to support his body. With the help of his opened meridians, the kid felt no heavier than a load of groceries. He dragged the kid off the counter top and carried him by the spider silk strap.

The kid huffed as the air left him. He struggled a little, then went still.

Oz peered down at him. “What’s your name, by the way? I can’t keep thinking of you as ‘the assassin.’ I mean, for one, you haven’t killed anyone.”

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The boy stiffened. “You don’t know that.”

“Have you?”

“…No.”

“So. I’m Oz. Nice to meet you, young assassin who hasn’t killed anyone.” He sidestepped sideways through the door, swinging the boy to dodge him around the doorframe as he walked.

The boy stared at the floor in sullen silence for another few beats, then muttered something.

“What?”

“Fflyn. I’m Fflyn.”

Oz frowned. “With two fs?”

“What of it?”

“No, I guess…” It’s another world. Names are fair play.

As he passed by, Linnea shot him a look. “You done with him? Can I have him?”

“Have him for what?” Oz asked.

“Dinner.”

Aisling glared at Linnea from across the room. Her eyes glowed faintly, and heat wavered over her head.

Oz stared at Linnea. Flatly, he asked, “Really?”

Linnea snorted. “No.”

“Good.” He walked by.

“Too bony.”

Oz whipped around over his shoulder.

Linnea winked, lips lifting in a playful grin.

“Oh, that’s right. Linnea, are there still spiders out in the grasslands on the other side of the World Door?” Oz asked.

Fflyn stiffened. “Spiders?”

“Only weak ones. He should be able to handle them,” Linnea said dismissively.

Fflyn struggled, kicking and bucking in Oz’s grasp.

Oz stumbled, pulled off-balance by Fflyn. He circulated his qi faster to keep up. “Hey!”

“Not spiders!” Fflyn shouted.

“There’s a giant spider in here, you know?” Oz reminded him, pointing at Linnea.

Fflyn froze. He shot a look at Linnea, then struggled a little more weakly. “Dammit… spiders?”

“I have a really cold room, too, if you’d rather. Full of snow,” Oz offered. “Oh, and the dorms keep getting infested with all kinds of bugs. You could go there.”

“Big spiders?” Fflyn asked weakly.

“Small-dog-sized.”

“I can keep an eye on them that way,” Fflyn muttered to himself. He shook his head, then firmly continued, “The worst part is when you see the spider, then can’t see it anymore. When it could be anywhere. If they’re that big, I’ll see them coming.”

“That’s the spirit,” Oz said.

At the World Door, Oz paused. He looked down at Fflyn and sighed.

“Just get it over with,” Fflyn complained.

Oz shook his head. “Fflyn, I don’t hate you. I don’t want to punish you forever for one assault. Listen. If you ever change your mind, if you want to—”

“Shut up and throw me in there already,” Fflyn snapped, his lip twisting. Disgust flickered in his eyes.

“As you wish.” Oz drew a stick of furnace fuel from his pocket and shoved qi into it, setting the tip alight. Putting it in his teeth, he opened the World Door, heaved Fflyn through it, then touched the burning fuel to the spider silk. It lit up, searing black and curling away from the hot ember. He ran the fuel from the top of the silk to the bottom, burning a weak point in the silk that bound him. With that, he tossed Fflyn into the grass.

Oz stood in the door, holding tight to the handle. He snuffed the fuel and tossed Fflyn a salute. “Good luck. Do you need food?”

“Why do you care?” Fflyn asked.

“Just asking.” I’ll take that as a no. Oz nodded. “I’ll see you again in a couple of months.”

Fflyn jumped up and charged the door, moving faster than Oz had seen him move thus far.

Oz jumped back, slamming the door shut. A thump sounded from the other side, then silence. He waited, prepared to grab the handle, but that was it. No more thumps. No more sound.

Huh. I guess I don’t know how World Doors work. They’re dimensional links, after all, not truly doors. A connection between one world and the next. If I, the owner of the World Door, is not on the other side, does the World Door exist on that side? And if it does, does it still connect to the door on my side if it’s fully closed, and presumptively, the dimensional link is closed? Does the dimensional link close? If I can’t hear Fflyn, it probably does, since I can’t imagine he’s stopped beating down the door, but…

Questions for the future.

Sighing, he dusted off his hands and slid the piece of fuel back into his pocket. “Note to self, dangerous assassin kid locked in grassland. P.S., assassin kid hasn’t killed anyone yet, so danger level… C? If A is immediate death and D is total safety? Higher than a Pomeranian, lower than a mastiff?”

“What are you muttering to yourself about?” Linnea asked from behind him.

Oz whirled. “Linnea! I didn’t hear you… and Aisling, too. Er, did you hear all that?”

Linnea grinned. Aisling lowered her head, looking aside.

That’s a yes. Oz grinned in embarrassment. “Haha…”