Oz leaped into the hayloft. He landed lightly, barely stirring the hay where he landed. A low pile of fresh hay sat in the corner, but otherwise, the hayloft stood completely empty.

Fflyn stopped screaming. He sighed. Thank goodness. They hid somewhere else.

“Hello, there. Would you like to come out?” Oz asked the fresh hay.

What? Fflyn asked, startled.

Oz nodded. “Fresh hay. A good choice of illusion in a hayloft. Unfortunately, everything in this region is rotten and old. There’s no animals outside, no cattle to feed, and no one is tending the field. Why would there be fresh hay in the hayloft? Old, graying hay, sure, but fresh hay?”

The hay before him shifted slightly. The bright yellow faded to gray.

“Now you’re just being ridiculous,” Oz said, shaking his head at the pile.

Fabric rustled. The hay became a sheet, and a boy about Oz’s age crossed his legs and sat upright, adopting a familiar pose. Like Fflyn, he wore simple black robes, though a small enameled black blade pin held his cloak shut. Silky black hair pulled tight back from his hairline, kept in a half-up hairdo that spilled back over his shoulders. He closed his eyes, as if he’d been meditating here the whole time.

Fflyn? Who’s this weirdo? Oz asked. He’s trying to play it cool, but it just makes this whole situation so much more awkward.

Fflyn coughed. He’s, er, highly regarded in the sect. Considered likely to become Elder Silverfang’s next direct disciple. I never interacted with him much, personally.

I was hoping for a name.

Erich. His name is Erich.

“Good afternoon, Erich. Would you care to join us downstairs?” Oz asked graciously.

Erich opened his eyes. He stood, dusting his robes off, and bowed to Oz. “Please, lead the way.”

Well, this is an exceedingly odd situation I find myself in. I guess I invited him downstairs, so… Turning around, Oz leaped off the loft and glided back down to the first floor. “Aisling, Loup, please meet Erich. He’s been following me for a while, so I decided to invite him down here to chat with us.”

“I know. We smelled him,” Loup said, not bothering to look up from petting her wolves. One of the wolves threw its head back and grinned, bopping Loup with its paw.

Oz gazed at Loup for a moment, desperately jealous of her pile of warm wolf bodies. If only that could be me. Surrounded by sweet, fluffy wolves, all cuddled up…

Are you insane? Fflyn asked.

What, you don’t like wolves?

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Wolves are dangerous!

Erich landed beside Oz before Oz’s thoughts could get even more off track. He bowed to the rest of the group. “Good afternoon. I’m Erich, of the Black Blades.”

Aisling gave him a cursory nod. Loup continued to ignore him.

“So, Erich, why were you following us?” Oz asked.

Erich looked him dead in the eyes. “Elder Silverfang told me to keep an eye on you, Fflyn. He felt you’d changed. And I agree.”

“Changed… in a good way?” Oz asked, waggling his brows playfully.

To his surprise, Erich nodded. “I think so, yes.”

“Oh. Well. In that case, no need to keep following, right?”

“No. Except for the deadly fog outside. And the necromancy.”

Oz looked around, taking in the dull white waiting for them outside every window. “Right.”

Erich lowered his head to look him in the eye. “So? What is all this about?”

“The necromancy?”

Erich nodded.

Oz shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. We’re trying to figure it out.”

“And this is the quest that library person gave you?”

Oz nodded, then shook his head. He spread his hands and shrugged. “I’m supposed to figure out what’s going on with the Lafayne region. Thought it’d be a quick jaunt in and out. I didn’t bank on the fog, or the necromancy.” I’m not sure Sachairi didn’t know, but that’s a different matter entirely.

“Indeed. It is most troubling,” Erich murmured, pinching his chin.

“Now that we’ve discovered you, and since we’re all trapped here anyways, would you like to come along and help?” Oz suggested.

Erich shook his head. “I’m going to return to the Mages’ Quarter and report to Elder Silverfang, as according to my orders.”

Oz frowned. I can’t exactly stop him by force. I’m pretty sure he’s stronger—no, I know he’s stronger than Fflyn, and he’s probably stronger than Aisling, as well. Plus, I don’t think he’s the kind of guy who can be convinced to bend the rules. He, er, seems a little straight-laced. Wooden, even.

He cleared his throat. “I understand. Of course. How could a lesser disciple like me ask you to ignore orders? However… could I ask that you and Elder Silverfang keep the necromancy part quiet? I think one of the mages in the Mages’ Quarter is behind all this. If I’m to discover the culprit as a low-realm mage, even a rumor, no, a whisper, could ruin everything.”

“Of course. I understand,” Erich said easily.

“You do?” Oz asked, startled. That was easy. Too easy. Far too easy! Did he understand? Did he actually understand?

“We are an assassin sect, after all. I understand the danger of talking about the target before the job,” Erich said, nodding.

“That… yes,” Oz said. It’s not quite right, but whatever. As long as Erich keeps it quiet.

Besides, depending on how much value Elder Silverfang puts on Fflyn—

Not much, Fflyn interjected.

—or how frightened he is of a necromancer nearby, he might end up being a sort of back-up for us. Not that I’d rely on him stepping in. I’m not stupid. But it’s not terrible to bring someone else into the mix, so long as they keep their mouth shut.

Fflyn shrugged, uncertain. If you think so.

Oz looked around the group. “Looks like we’re stuck here until the fog clears. Anyone bring cards? A book?”

Aisling shook her head. “I’ll practice.”

Loup soundly ignored them, play-fighting with the wolves.

Without replying, Erich folded his legs and entered a meditative pose.

Fflyn, you won’t immediately blab to Erich if I give you control, will you?

No. I don’t like him. He’s pretentious and a stiff rule enforcer. He’d probably kill me on the spot if he found out I was being possessed.

Ah. Right. I nearly forgot about that.

You forgot you were actively using a demonic possession spell?

A fey possession spell, okay? Fey magic. Not demonic.

Only because you figured out fey magic first.

…

Yeah?

Alright, I’m heading back home to read. You’ve got this, Fflyn!

Oz logged off and jolted back to life in the library, sitting at his table and surrounded by books. He smiled.

A quick break to grab a bite and some antidote, and it’s time to read. It really is nice being trapped in a library, sometimes.