On the first warm evening of the year, Florian Adalhard sat inside. Though he was not at his office, he might as well have been. Adalhard occupied the least relaxing room of his house: the library and study. Adalhard had owned the house for two years, and still, much of it remained empty. He dragged his feet on finding furniture and people to share it with.

A breeze blew through Adalhard’s open window, and he looked outside. The light faded fast and shadowy leaves batted the window pane. For a moment, Adalhard felt grateful that Groazan culture preferred overgrown wild gardens because he didn’t plan to tend his at all this summer. Maybe, if he invited enough historians and anthropologists to stay over, he could request some free yard work. Though, if many AAH members had joined a cult, Adalhard wasn’t sure he wanted to visit with them.

Adalhard sighed and brought his attention back to his work. His request to study the Suen Temple sat with the Tagtrumian and Groazan governments, with a promise to get Ponk involved. Adalhard had also issued an order for all members of the AAH to submit to Groazan authorities for investigation. They would find their cultists, but for now, he had to wait.

By Adalhard’s window, a soft whir hummed. He looked up and, abruptly, pushed backed his chair. As Adalhard rose to his feet, a hovering metal sphere entered the room. It buzzed just above the ground and guided itself with four long, pointed legs. Adalhard waited, recognizing the thing as the same kind of artifact Ridvan found. It was one of Eva’s probes.

That reminds me. I owe Ridvan an apology – if we ever find him.

Ridvan had disappeared with his artifact, maybe out of shame at its explosion or maybe because he took the brunt of the explosion himself.

The probe climbed Adalhard’s desk. It regarded him with one yellow eye. Then, a compartment dropped open, and the probe shook out a roll of paper. Again, it looked at Adalhard, and with one leg pushed the paper closer.

Adalhard picked up and unfolded the note. He read:

Dear Adalhard,

Ah’nee’thit – the small creature – has recruited a secret cult of mages known as Agaric Healers. They perform experiments on elders and children, charge exorbitant prices for healing, and can poison whole towns for their research. We encountered one named Alastronia. She is the leader of the Agaric Healers and tried to collect me on behalf of Ah’nee’thit. She poisoned the dwarven village, Frieden, and kept everyone in a frozen state while she attacked us. She may become the high priestess if Ah’nee’thit cannot get me. Please send someone to check on Frieden.

Please also, investigate the Suen Temple. And, find the cultists. If we can separate them from Ah’nee’thit, we have a chance to save them.

Going for help.

* Camellia

Adalhard read the letter twice. He could check off two of those tasks. They would get inside the Suen Temple and find cultists, but now, Camellia had added a new priority: Agaric Healers. Just one more thing to take to Groaza’s Head of State at tomorrow’s meeting.

I’m trying, Camellia. I’m trying.

Adalhard raised the paper to his face and smelt it, forgetting he wasn’t alone. The parchment smelt of machine oil. Adalhard crinkled his nose. Then, the little probe chirped. It watched him and, with tiny arms, gestured at its compartment.

“There’s no request for a return message,” he said, hoping that would satisfy the thing.

The probe rotated its head. Again, it looked at Adalhard.

“Did Eva make you? I suppose you’re fairly new, but still a cultural artifact.” With care, Adalhard picked up the little probe.

He found tiny dents in his desk where its feet had been. Adalhard sighed. He tucked the probe under his arm and opened his drawer. Inside he found a box of erasers, and he stuck four new hunks of rubber on the probe’s feet. Then, Adalhard searched the probe for a way to turn it off. In her hurry to make the thing, Eva must have forgotten a switch. The probe was smooth and featureless, even inside its compartment.

I’m going to be very busy, but I really shouldn’t, Adalhard scolded himself. He had no time to study the little thing, and he had a lot of housework…

A short while later, Adalhard sat at his desk, searching the guild registry for a group that might front the Agaric Healers. Other books and dig notes lay open; all concerned with strange and little used magic. So far, nothing struck Adalhard as a good fit for a cult of Agaric Healers. Despite his attempts to focus, he left off his search.

For a moment, Adalhard watched his little probe work. The probe paused and chirped. Then, it resumed its task and began to dust the next bookshelf, careful to rub each book’s spine. Adalhard nodded. Giving the little probe a job was the right thing to do.

With a sigh, Adalhard abandoned his search for Agaric Healers and distracted himself with the dig site papers for the equatorial Volanter Temple. On three separate occasions, the AAH had tried to explore the Volanter site, and each time, they failed to reach the deeper parts of the temple.

The last attempt, executed by Cernunnos, brought back a quick list of spells, none of them documented. Adalhard read the list:

Grow forest

Storm shield

?

Dance…?

Wormhole Generator?

Adalhard stopped there. Wormhole Generator? That could be useful.

“That might be our way to rid ourselves of the creature. Why not just send it somewhere else?” Adalhard returned to his research and outlined his plan.

“How are you?” Cernunnos Pater asked with a tip of his beat-up hat.

“Fine.” Adalhard carried a folio under his arm and climbed the steps to Gotic’s capitol building.

“You sound miserable,” Cernunnos informed Adalhard, with authority. To Adalhard’s satisfaction, Cernunnos dropped the subject in favor of business. “I sent that message to Thom. He works at a dwarven library near Frieden and could reach there in a few days. No reply yet, of course.” Cernunnos peered at Adalhard. “Why do you want someone to check on Frieden?”

Adalhard paused and returned Cernunnos’ deep stare. “I received a message from Camellia. They encountered cultists there.”

“Really? I got a message from Camellia too,” Cernunnos said.

“More cultists?”

“No, no.” Cernunnos shook his head and held up a hand. “It was just personal.”

Adalhard hesitated only a moment. “I see. Anything I should know?”

“They plan to go to Lurren. Aside from that, I don’t believe I’ll tell you...yet.” Cernunnos smiled slightly as he studied Adalhard.

Adalhard studied him back but broke eye contact first. He led them into the capitol building. “Did anyone arrive ahead of us?”

“Just the Military Director Cloch. I let him go in and waited outside for you. Very stiff man.” Cernunnos frowned.

The two men walked down the hall to the Head of State’s office. Unlike other Groazan buildings, the capitol was simpler, with a dark grey exterior and light grey interior. Simple patterns of painted thorns and leaves wove down the corridors.

“Cernunnos? Do you remember the Volanter dig site?” Adalhard asked.

“How could I forget it? I almost drowned there – twice. First time, I had to save Camellia. Dhampirs are dead weight in the water. Second time was my fault.” Cernunnos shook his head. “Why do you ask? Did Camellia mention it in her note to you?”

Adalhard glanced at Cernunnos. “Did she mention it in yours?”

“No.” Cernunnos smiled.

Adalhard sighed. “I researched rare, secret magic last night because Camellia says the new cultists can perform unusual spells.”

“Ah, I see. Volanter magic naturally came up.”

“Yes.” Adalhard nodded. “In this case, it’s unlikely to aid our understanding of the new cultists. Camellia called them Agaric Healers. They’re named for a type of mushroom, so I assume the message is that they grow in the shadows and...feed off the dead.” Adalhard shook her head, not really certain.

Both men walked side by side and looked straight ahead.

A few steps from the Head of State’s office, Adalhard stopped. “But, I noticed something that might help our fight against the creature.”

“When you studied Volanter magic?” Cernunnos narrowed his eyes.

Adalhard nodded. “In the Volanter dig notes, there’s a wormhole generating spell on a list you wrote. Maybe, we can use that to send the monster away?”

Cernunnos considered it. “I don’t remember writing that list. Then, again, I was moments from drowning.” Cernunnos stroked his chin. “I never transcribed the spells in that area of the site. We would have to go get this wormhole spell.”

“Correct, and I plan to make the suggestion tonight.”

Cernunnos motioned for Adalhard to precede him. “By all means. I’ll back you.”

Adalhard entered first, and Cernunnos followed.

Three men sat around a desk, and two more chairs stood empty. Nicodeme Regle, the Groazan Head of State, claimed the most space. The dark-haired man eyed the anthropologists and gestured for them to sit. Once a full-faced baker, Regle had grown thin from his many encounters with Groaza’s supernatural elements. Groazan officials often had substantial experience with the supernatural. Some were former exorcists, some hunters, and some diplomats. Regle was none of these. He was merely lucky. After his first encounter with a werewolf, he found himself suddenly elected mayor of his town. From there, Regle had survived vampire attacks, ghosts, and other creepies, holding the record for most paranormal encounters in an unrelated profession.

To Regle’s right, sat Corentin, Groaza’s foremost mage. Also a thin man, Corentin had dark hair and light friendly eyes. Corentin’s claim to his position came from his experience with ghost-related spells. He lived in the most haunted house in Groaza, not so-named for the intensity of the haunting, but for the number of apparitions. Corentin tested his spells on his spirits, developing everything from ghost-blocking magic to a ghost summoning spell. He also enchanted most of the witch balls used in government buildings. No one dared count how many spirits had gazed into the balls and become trapped there. The colored glass spheres, with thready interiors, were a favorite tool of Groazans. So long as they didn’t break and release their prisoners.

Across from Corention, Oskar Cloch sat. A tall, well-built man, Cloch headed Groaza’s military and navy, two very bored organizations since the peace treaties between Tagtrum, Groaza, and Ponk. Cloch had little experience with supernatural beings, but he had plenty of wartime memories.

“Please be seated, gentlemen,” Regle greeted both anthropologists. “It’s late, so let’s cut straight to the point. We have permission to send you into the Suen Temple. Cloch and Corentin will accompany you.”

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Adalhard took his seat. “That was fast. I was almost worried you wouldn’t get permission.”

Cernunnos eased into the other chair.

“Tagtrum is eager to clear their name,” Cloch said. “This trip may have the opposite effect, but they’re confident it won’t.”

Adalhard looked at a file in Cloch’s hand and saw the name Enchanted Textilers across the front. The small guild had been connected to the Suen Temple for a very long time, and now, they fell under suspicion.

Cloch continued, “The Tagtrum army searches for Enchanted Textilers, and they have taken every AAH member into custody. Any Textilers they find will be held, but AAH members are released after an evaluation. We’ve done the same in Groaza. I have the entire chapter of Enchanted Textilers in the capitol dungeon.”

Cernunnos and Adalhard fidgeted and averted their eyes from Cloch.

“Don’t worry, we’ve updated the dungeon. It’s a modern prison now, though we’ve removed fabric and placed binding wards in all the cells and communal areas. Considering these are Enchanted Textilers, I presume they’re proficient with both cloth and magic. Also, we’ve questioned every member of the AAH in Groaza. So far, we’ve identified twelve suspected cultists. They have a lot of faith in this Ah’nee – something or other. I will be very surprised if that Suen temple is empty,” Cloch growled.

“Just twelve?” Cernunnos cocked his head.

“Can you both be ready to travel to Tagtrum tomorrow?” Regle folded his hands.

Adalhard and Cernunnos exchanged a glance.

Adalhard answered for them both. “Yes, we’re always ready to travel.”

“Good.” Regle nodded. “Is there anything else you need to bring to my attention?”

“Actually, yes,” Adalhard began. He placed his folio on the desk and opened it. “I received a message from...a member of the AAH. She believes that a second cult has joined the first.”

“Wonderful.” Cloch tossed his hands up. “I suppose I shouldn’t complain about the work. Do we have any details on this second cult?”

“It’s a cult of mages known as Agaric Healers.” Adalhard watched the other men’s expressions but especially Corentin’s.

Corentin stiffened. “Agaric Healers? About two years ago, we had a young woman distraught about a group going by that name. We looked into it and found no guild or group that matched the description. I thought she was just mistaken or…”

“I trust my source,” Adalhard said. “And, two complaints about these people suggests we should look into it.”

“Oh, I agree.” Corentin nodded. “I just feel bad about having that girl committed for six months.”

Now, Adalhard stiffened. At least, he hadn’t gone that far with Camellia. But, wasn’t sending her home – to her father’s farm – bad enough?

Regle cleared his throat. “Cloch. I need you to look into these Agaric Healers – appoint someone before you leave for Tagtrum. Corentin, you too.”

Cloch rose from his seat. “I need to work on that now then. If you’ll excuse me. Corentin, I’ll need your information on them.”

Corentin nodded. He didn’t excuse himself. He just followed the other man, with a grim, regretful look on his face.

Regle sighed. “Cults. Lurrien monsters. It’s better than not knowing. That’s what I tell myself. Is that all?”

“No.” Adalhard leaned closer. “After we travel to Suen, would it be possible for us to journey to the Volanter archaeological site at Iruedim’s equator? I believe that we could find some magic there that may be of use against the creature.”

Regle put a hand to his chin. “Ancient Volanter magic? Hmmm. Damn, I should have kept Corentin around. It’s my understanding that Volanter magic is obsolete.”

Cernunnos jumped in. “Some of the more well-known spells, yes. They are the basis for all Iruedian magic circles, and we’ve improved on them. But, there are different branches of Volanter magic. Some of which we’ve never studied because the information is so difficult to obtain. The last time I visited the Volanter site, I found an inscription for a wormhole generating circle.” Cernunnos glanced at Adalhard. “We believe it could be useful for our current predicament. If the monster is too big to destroy through conventional means, why not send it somewhere else?”

Regle stroked his chin. “The problem with that...is where to send it. Do we get a choice? I wouldn’t want to send it someplace where others live. We couldn’t justify our actions if we sent it to some unsuspecting people. Still…”

Footsteps sounded in the hallway.

“Oh, good. That might be Corentin. We can get his opinion on this Volanter lead.”

The footsteps stopped. Adalhard, Cernunnos, and Regle watched the door. Corentin never rounded the corner. Instead, a small canister rolled through. The canister oozed blue gas. All three men jumped to their feet, and Adalhard and Cernunnos turned to find Regle halfway out his window. He beckoned the other two men and leaped out.

As Cernunnos and Adalhard rushed for the window, Cernunnos praised Regle’s speed. “Now, that’s a survivor.”

Both men jumped out the wide window together and landed beside Regle. They ducked low and searched the dark trees and buildings around the capitol.

“Are these cultists?” Regle asked.

“Not sure,” Cernunnos said. “But, if I had to guess...”

Adalhard crept away from the wall and started towards the road. He steered not for the capitol’s expansive front lawn or the woodsy back garden but for the nearest side yard. Compared to the front and back, the side yard was narrow. Through the trees, carriage lights shimmered, and evening farewells echoed.

“I’m not well armed.” Adalhard carried only a small dagger and his folio.

“I’m not armed at all.” Cernunnos spread his hands as he walked low.

Regle pulled out his magic gun. “I always have this with me, but I’d prefer Corentin.” The Head of State tucked himself behind a fountain.

Cernunnos and Adalhard joined him. Nearby, a bush’s foliage provided a low canopy. All three men watched as hooded figures, in dark blue, exited a back door. More figures rounded the corner for a total of nine.

“Supposedly, we can become infected if they’ve touched the creature,” Cernunnos said. “There’s just nine though. We can take nine men, provided one isn’t a mage.”

Adalhard growled, looking at the wooded garden. The other men followed his gaze in time to see ten more cultists step from among the trees.

The two groups met in the middle of the yard.

“We need to find the high priest,” one of the nine said to the ten.

“No. It’s in our best interest…”

“Not this again,” another cultist whined. “We follow Ah’nee’thit’s will. The instructions were clear.”

“The instructions were to retrieve both…”

“You have twisted the instructions to match your desires,” one of the nine accused.

“We could say the same about you,” returned one of the ten.

“Quiet!” hissed the first man. “For now, we will find both. Get to work.”

The cultists fanned out. They formed groups of four. One group headed for the far side-yard. Another searched the garden while four more men prowled towards the capitol building. The last group headed towards the side yard where Adalhard, Regle, and Cernunnos hid, but those cultists began their search well away from the hiding place.

At the yard’s center, three cultists remained. One was the leader. He instructed the other two, who unfortunately both proved to be mages. Each mage began a search spell, but the results of the spells differed. The first magic circle generated a whizzing ball. The ball shot into the air, and Regle pulled the other men beneath the cover of their bush. The ball whizzed first to the far yard, shooting low to search under benches, hedges, and sculptures.

The second search spell blazed from a magic circle of glimmering white. Like a lighthouse, the spell aimed a strong beam. The beam roved over the capitol building, illuminating the wall. When the beam found a living person, a shadow materialized on the capitol’s exterior. Two shadows appeared, suggesting that two men were inside. Every cultist turned their attention to the capitol building. For a moment, they watched the thin and sturdy shadows talk. Then, they started for the building. The first search spell of whizzing light zipped into a window.

Cernunnos said, “I guess we messed around too much in their affairs.”

“Why do you say that?” Regle looked at the white-haired anthropologist.

“I think they mistook Corentin and Cloch for Adalhard and I.” Cernunnos gestured first to his tall, thin figure, and then the tall, sturdy Adalhard. “They must know what we’ve been up to. By now, Cahir must have told everyone I locked him in a closet.”

Adalhard shook his head. “They said they needed to find their high priest. That’s neither of us.”

“They’re looking for Cahir?” Cernunnos knit his brow.

“We can question them after we capture them. Let’s go help Corentin and Cloch.” Regle stalked for the capitol building. “We might try sending for help.”

“You do that,” Cernunnos said. “Just let me borrow the gun.”

Regle raised his eyebrows but handed Cernunnos the gun. The Head of State detoured to the street.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do against two mages and seventeen cultists.” Adalhard glared at Cernunnos, but he prowled for the capitol building.

“You were in the military before you joined the AAH,” Cernunnos reminded Adalhard.

“That was years ago!” Adalhard whispered. “And, I was a foot soldier. Now, be quiet.”

Adalhard and Cernunnos entered the building through Regle’s window. One wall lamp still flickered, but the rest of the office was dim. Adalhard checked outside the office door, and both men listened. Footsteps came from down the hall, and Adalhard and Cernunnos hid to the side of the door.

Two cultists drifted by, and Cernunnos raised the gun. Adalhard looked at him with wide eyes, but when Cernunnos fired, they heard no sound. Cernunnos tapped a rotating ring on the gun, and Adalhard recognized a silence spell. He nodded, and with a glance back down the hall, stepped out behind the cultists. Adalhard drew his dagger, and with the butt, hit a cultist on the head. Concerned that the men might be members of the AAH, he resolved to preserve their lives. As the first man fell, the other turned and Adalhard punched him. Everything occurred soundlessly.

Adalhard bent to pull the unconscious men into the office. He almost startled to find Cernunnos at his side. They dragged both men into the office and tied them up, with Regle’s curtains.

Cernunnos smiled.

Adalhard just shook his head. They re-entered the hall. As soon as they exited the silence spell’s effect, screams and shouts accosted their ears. Both men hurried towards the screams but kept out of sight.

One cultist ran down the hall, looking behind him. He didn’t see the anthropologists ahead. Adalhard stuck his foot out and tripped the man, and Cernunnos shot him.

“Cernunnos!” Adalhard hissed.

“Sleep spell. Regle only has six spells on this thing, but they’re well chosen.” Cernunnos studied the gun.

Adalhard tied up the man, with leftover curtain pull strings. Then, he held his hand out to Cernunnos. “Give me that gun.”

Cernunnos balked but handed the gun to Adalhard, accepting the dagger in return. Cernunnos sighed.

Adalhard stalked forward, following shouts and sword clangs. Just outside a large ballroom, Adalhard stopped. He looked inside to find Corentin and Cloch engaged in battle with cultists. Adalhard took a quick count and was surprised to find not the sixteen remaining men but close to thirty cultists, many of whom were mages.

Corentin and Cloch exited the ballroom, fleeing into the overgrown garden. Corentin’s magic lit up the night, flashing through the windows and casting tree shadows on the ballroom’s walls. First, he focused on defense spells, unable to mount an attack against ten other mages. His shields and counterspells lasted moments under the barrage of fire, ice, and lightning magic. Once Corentin established a good shield, he commenced his attack spells. An orange magic circle, blazed with the face of a jack-o-lantern. A huge pumpkin, complete with face and vines, came into being and grabbed two nearby cultists.

While Corentin fought the mages, Cloch kept the other cultists at a distance. Sword drawn, Cloch set his blade against two or three cultists at once. He swept his sword across two men and disarmed them. Unwilling to spare the men injury, Cloch cut several, and they fell in the garden. One unconscious man lay on the back steps.

Adalhard and Cernunnos entered the ballroom.

“I think they have it handled,” Cernunnos said, taking cover to watch the fight.

“I think they might kill half our guild if we don’t do something.” Adalhard found a pillar, hid behind it, and shot two men from behind.

The sleep spell took them and spared them from Cloch’s blade and Corentin’s pumpkin monster. Adalhard looked to Cernunnos but found him missing.

Adalhard fired again. The cultist, a mage, continued to fight, protected from the simple sleep spell. Adalhard changed the gun’s setting and fired into the group. A firecracker spell disrupted the cultists as it fizzled in their midst.

Even Corentin and Cloch paused, but they recovered sooner than the cultists. Corentin took advantage of the aid and cast a summon spell. A magic circle of purple wave designs rolled over the grass and a kraken materialized on the land. In the presence of something so like their god, the cultists paused. The kraken grabbed two mages in its tentacles, and the other cultists resumed the fight.

Adalhard watched as Corentin and Cloch continued to decimate the misguided men. Adalhard rescued a few more with sleep spells, but he left the mages to Corentin’s mercy.

One mage turned and left the fight. He made his way towards the capitol ballroom. Adalhard stood and fired the gun. The firecracker, also a weak spell, flew harmlessly off the man’s shield.

“Adalhard, I presume.” The cultist said, stopping a few feet away.

The man prepared a spell, only to be interrupted by Cernunnos and a sturdy chair to the back of his head.

“I wondered where you’d gone.” Adalhard raised the gun, switching again to its sleep spell, and fired into the fleeing cultists.

Only four raced into the woods, just as Regle and his reinforcements arrived.

In the garden, the Groazan military gathered the dazed and unconscious cultists. Many of Cloch’s opponents moaned, alive but injured. Regle spoke to Corentin and Cloch.

Cernunnos started in that direction. He rubbed the back of his neck. “We’d better tell them about the three we left in the hall and office.”

Adalhard raised his hand. “Wait.” He bent and pulled a paper from a cultist’s pocket.

The paper read: Adalhard for High Priest. Below the declaration, several names signed and pronounced Adalhard a popular candidate.

“Are they taking a vote?” Adalhard rose to his feet and showed the paper to Cernunnos.

Cernunnos took it. “I’d say yes. Adalhard, I don’t think you can hold two stations at once. If you want to be high priest, you’ll have to give up chair of the AAH.”

Adalhard looked through more of the cultist’s papers, but he spared an annoyed glance for Cernunnos.

Cernunnos continued, “And, if you aren’t chair of the AAH, it’ll be harder to secure someone to look after your house. Although, if you become high priest, I suppose that would put you opposite Camellia, so you might have that taken care of.”

Adalhard stopped. Slowly, he looked up and stared at Cernunnos.

“How would you like that?” Cernunnos joked with a grin.

“How would you like it? You have plenty of votes.” Adalhard showed Cernunnos another paper.

This one read: Cernunnos for High Priest.

“Son of a…” Cernunnos snatched the paper. He read the names on each page, whispering the words to himself. Most were made up code names to protect the cultists’ identities. “You have nearly double the votes I do.”

“I suspect I’m Ah’nee’thit’s favorite, but as you said, I can’t occupy two stations at once.” Adalhard still crouched by the cultist, but he’d finished with the man’s pockets.

Cernunnos mumbled, but Adalhard didn’t catch the words.

So, Adalhard continued, “Camellia is unlikely to be high priestess. Maybe the Agaric Healer Alastronia will serve opposite you.”

Cernunnos gave Adalhard a blank-faced stare. The moment lasted a few beats. “That’s good news for you, right? You’d rather I end up with Alastronia.” Cernunnos raised his eyebrows.

Before Adalhard could respond, Regle joined them.

He retrieved his gun from Adalhard and looked it over. “You leave for Tagtrum tonight. Visit the monster in Suen. Then, go to that Volanter site. You can request anything you need of Cloch or Corentin.” Regle held up two little ads. “It seems keeping you two out of sight may be a good idea, whether you find something or not.” The hand drawn ads advertised what Adalhard and Cernunnos already knew. The cultists seemed split on who they wanted for high priest. “I’d expect you two to be more surprised by this,” Regle accused as he studied both men’s faces.

“We were – a few minutes ago,” Cernunnos promised. He showed Regle the vote papers. “But, we found these first.”

Regle took the papers. “Adalhard you’ve got a lead. Nicely done, I suppose.”

“Only if his preferred priestess occupies her position,” Cernunnos teased, too soft for Regle to hear, but Adalhard heard every world.