Oz bent one last time, eyes locked on the tail where it swayed. He took a deep breath, then let it out. All at once, he leaped, surging into the air with all the strength he could muster.

The ring reverberated from the force of his feet. He flew upward, arms outstretched. The fluffy tail rushed up, closer and closer. His eyes widened in delight. Yes! Here we go!

Over the tail, two orbs gazed down at him, faintly glowing. Oz’s eyes shifted, from the tail to those eyes, and he caught the wolf staring back at him.

His heart lurched. Holy shit, it’s alive?

The tail rushed up. Oz snapped back to the moment. He swung his arms forward, grabbing at the tail. Fluffy fur distorted under his hands, but then he found bone, and he held on tight.

Hugging the wolf’s tail, he looked up at its eyes. They sat closed, the same as ever, the face as desiccated as it had appeared from the start.

Oz frowned. Did I see wrongly? But…no, I’m sure I saw its eyes open. I…

Glamour! Glamour, obviously! This whole thing is a glamour. The wolf isn’t as dead as it’s pretending to be!

A low voice chuckled, and the wolf’s body distorted. Once more, open eyes gazed down at him, the body not quite as dried as it appeared at a distance. “Indeed. A young student of glamour ought to see through this poor disguise of mine.” It flicked its tail slightly, sending Oz swinging. “Speak freely, young one. Those who have not studied glamour should not so easily see through my disguise.”

“Hello,” Oz said meekly. He glanced down, then grinned up at it. “Sorry about grabbing your tail?”

“Are you sorry, or not?” the wolf asked, its eyes glittering. No, ‘her,’ Oz realized. It’s Loup’s mother, after all.

“Er, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I did it suddenly, but I’m not sorry I grabbed your tail, if it meant we could speak like this,” Oz said, nodding at the wolf.

She hummed in something like approval. Shifting slightly around the pole, she lifted her head, gazing to the horizon. “You smell of someone I know.”

“Ah, I should. Your daughter, Loup, she’s here.”

“Not come to rescue me?” the wolf murmured.

Oz paused, then shook his head. Honestly is the best policy, with a being this powerful. I don’t know if she can read thoughts or intentions, after all. “No. She believes you to be truly dead. Even coming up to take a keepsake is something I decided on my own.”

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The wolf chuckled. “Good. I raised her well. We wolves can be too loyal, at times. It killed my pack.”

Oz pressed his lips together, looking down. “Ah…how unfortunate.”

“These things are long passed. There’s no need to unearth them.” She glanced down, resting against the pole again. “A keepsake, you said. It should be within my power.”

“For your daughter, that is. I thought she…might like a memorial,” Oz said, nodding.

“She might, she might. Is that all you came for?” the wolf asked.

Oz opened his mouth to say no, then paused. He looked up at the wolf. She woke up and made herself known to me. She didn’t do that to give her daughter a keepsake. There’s something else she wants.

He looked at the wolf, then at the pole, then down at Naomhan below. At last, he looked up at the wolf again. “You…is there some way you can sabotage this? Since you seem to be the focal point of this formation.”

The wolf chuckled. “Asking the right questions. You are a clever one. Yes…and no.”

“No? Or rather, yes?”

The wolf nodded. “I am locked here. My power, drained by the pole. If I myself could sabotage this, don’t you think I would have done it long ago?”

“That’s—that’s reasonable, yes.”

“But I still possess some reserves of strength. Power those pitiful dark mages don’t even know of, that they lack the power to tap into. If I were given a method to interfere with the world, that redirected my power without sending it through the pole, then I could, perhaps, sabotage the main glamour that hides this camp.”

Oz’s eyes widened. “You could—”

The wolf scoffed. “I am a fey, you know? Who do you think is the heart of this glamour? Some working of a pitiful dark mage? Hmph, don’t make me laugh. Don’t you know? Dark mages are the ones who failed. The ones who chose shortcuts that corrupted, over earnest teachings. They’re to be pitied, not feared.”

“They seem pretty fearful to me,” Oz muttered.

“Of course they would, to one as weak as yourself. In a few decades, you will look back and understand what I mean.”

Hmm. A way to interfere with the world, that goes around the pole. But the pole pierces her. It goes through her entire body. There isn’t an organ, blood vessel, scrap of flesh, or qi vessel that doesn’t touch it. What she’s requesting, is a way to bypass her entire body, and still cast magic. Is there any way to do that?

Oz bit his lip, consulting his library. Book after book flashed by in his head, but they all came back to one fundamental point: qi flowed through the body. Even fey magic, which is manipulated outside the body, requires one to replicate the shape of the qi flow inside one’s body before it can be projected outside. Fundamentally, the wolf lacks the ability to flow qi within her body, since any qi that flows inside her will strike the pole and be siphoned away.

There has to be something. Some way…

His eyes widened. Wait—that! If I do that, could it work?

The wolf chuckled. “It seems you’ve thought of something.”

“I might have, yes. I’ll have to gather the others, and we’ll all have to work together, but—”

“Go on, then.” The wolf drooped against the pole, going limp once more. She extended her tail toward the tent, letting Oz drop easily back to the ring.

Oz took a deep breath. Aisling and Loup, where are they? From atop the tent, he gazed out, taking in the entirety of the camp. His eyes settled upon distant motion, and he leaped from the tent, soaring through the camp in leaps and bounds, buoyed on his movement technique.