“What is it?” Eileen asked.

“That, my friend, is a Rodney,” Archimedes answered.

“What the hell is a Rodney?”

Thomas slowly turned to look at her, “It’s a cricket, Eileen.”

“Obviously it’s a bloody cricket! But,” she went to poke the patient little creature but thought better of it at the last moment, “What does it do?”

Eileen was at eye level with the bug on the bar, studying it cautiously, when Thomas leant close to her ear and shouted, “EXPLODES!”

Despite herself, Eileen leaped half a league in the air, accidentally headbutting the ginger mage in the process, “Gods be good! Geez, you’re a sphincter!”

“Ow! That really hurt!”

“Serves you bloody right.”

All twenty White Fangs, Pate, and the cricket, were watching the pair.

“Sorry,” Eileen muttered sheepishly, “So, um, yeah! Rodney?”

Archimedes turned back to the small springer, “Rodney is Vish’s pet cricket.”

“Vish is that mind mage?”

“In a manner of speaking. Vish has the ability to transfer souls from one vessel to another, along with a slew of other useful tricks.

“Rodney was originally the brainchild of Natasha, another former White Fang. Vish would transfer a person’s soul onto the cricket, and that individual would essentially become the continent’s most unassuming scout. They could hop into a barracks, an inn, a palace, all without attracting any attention.”

“Clever. So, is that what we’re looking at here, one of Vish’s spies?”

Thomas snorted, “If it’s Gabriel then I’ve got a few suggestions for what we can do with him.”

“I thought it was Vish you hated?” Violet mused.

“There’s a long list. It’s complicated. Try and keep up.”

“Play nice, Thomas. Latrine duty is not off the cards, even for my veterans,” Archimedes said.

“You’re too soft on those fools.”

“Regardless,” Archimedes stroked his chin, “At any rate, I don’t think this is Gabriel or any of his friends that we have here. I can’t imagine them splitting up right now, given the potential danger they were in the last time we spoke.”

“So,” Eileen regarded the creature, “they just sent us a cricket?”

“Vish became very fond of his crickets. He talked to them. He trained them. He passed one soul on to the next when they grew old. This is more than a cricket to Vish, it’s,” Archimedes hesitated, “probably the love of his life.”

“Cricket-fucker,” Thomas coughed unsubtly into his hand.

“Not like that, Thomas, and you know it. In fact, get to the back. Away with you. I will not tolerate your childishness.”

“For gods’ sake,” the mage whined as he elbowed his way through the Fangs to sulk at the back of the semi-circle of mercenaries.

“Alright, so we have ourselves a super talented, much-loved cricket,” Eileen summarised, “but why?”

“Like I said, Vish loves his Rodneys more than anything in the world. So, for it to be here, they must be in very serious trouble. It’s a message, alright,” Archimedes tapped his lip with an index finger, “It’s a call for help.”

“Which, we’re going to ignore, right?” Thomas’ voice penetrated the wall of warriors.

“Outside! Out! I can’t think with your constant moaning.”

“Aether, I was just making conversation,” Thomas seethed, slamming the door on his way out of the guild.

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The other Fangs dutifully kept quiet while their leader mulled over the implications of Rodney’s presence. He continued to stare transfixed at the cricket.

After a while, Adrian coughed delicately, “So what’s the plan, chief?”

“For once I find myself unsure,” the platinum-haired captain confessed, “On the one hand, we suspect that a cult of revolutionaries tried to have them killed recently, and so any danger they are in could hint at a larger safety concern for The Kaden Circle as a whole.”

“True,” Eileen said, remembering Dexy.

“On the other hand, it is no secret that I have history with my old comrades, and, to be frank, I am uncertain whether or not that is clouding my judgement.”

Adrian folded his burly arms, “Way I see it, matters not either way; we are yours to command, sir.”

Archimedes allowed himself a soft smile, “You are too kind, my friend. Still, I am loathe to divert the Fang’s resources based on the appearance of a cricket.”

“A very clever cricket,” Eileen reminded him.

“Whose owner is arguably a sociopath and a pathological liar.”

“As bad as that?”

“I say that as one Vish’s closest friends.”

“Yikes.”

“Plus, we do have other commitments,” Archimedes sighed.

“True. We’re due back in Gladstone any day now for that Nico job,” a mage in a stiff jerkin reminded them.

“To escort that old sod to Sanshire?” another voice piped up, “Pretty sure he can make it by himself, Sanshire is right there!”

“It is right there,” Adrian agreed, “but we do have an obligation. That obligation doesn’t require a contingent twenty strong, though.”

“Whoa, surely you’re not suggesting we split the party!” Eileen was aghast.

“Why not?”

Eileen bit her lip, “I’m actually not sure, it’s just something I’ve heard.”

“It’s decided then!” Adrian clapped a hand on Archimedes shoulder, “half go to Gladstone to do the Nico job, the rest go to Jandrir to investigate whatever kind of mess these numpties have gotten themselves into.”

Archimedes slowly relented, “If I have your blessing.”

“Always, captain. For The White Fangs!” the burly ranger bellowed.

“For The White Fangs!” the others echoed.

“Very well, but only volunteers with me,” Archimedes rose, adjusting the straps on his armour.

“Well, you can count me in,” Eileen said immediately, “You promised me a chance to look into Dexy’s murder, and the trail ends with those guys and Jandrir.”

“You’re going to want some ranged support,” Adrian said simply.

“I’d also like to come along,” Violet said, raising her hand like school were in session, “I felt I got to know those fellows a little on the raft journey. I’d hate to think something bad had happened to them. They seemed nice.”

“Thank you, all of you. That should be plenty. I ask only for one additional friend,” Archimedes said, “You, Morgan, our beloved bard. I ask that you accompany us on this journey. Your stories and songs will soothe my troubled soul and ease my anxiety.”

Morgan opened his mouth.

“Still your tongue for now, friend. There will be time aplenty for words on the road, and I do not wish to be distracted at this time by your witty jests or tear-jerking tales. I must be strong, and focus on the task at hand,” Archimedes said ruefully.

Morgan closed his mouth.

“We set off then, and without delay!”

“Onwards!”

There was some delay.

Archimedes saw that each of his crew had packs and supplies ready for their respective journeys, and took some time assigning tasks to his lieutenants destined for Gladstone. There were instructions to be issued, missives to be sent, and tankards to be drained. Still, shortly after the sun had reached its apex in the sky, the band was ready to depart.

Thomas was kicking a pebble against a wall when the White Fangs stormed out of the guild, and marched off in opposite directions.

“Wait, what?” the mage’s head danced from one group to the next, “The Aether is going on here?”

“We’re on the move,” Adrian grunted, “Grab your pack.”

“We just got here!”

“And now we’re leaving.”

“Gods!” Thomas cursed, as he bundled his goods and bounded after Archimedes.

The bronze-skinned, ivory haired mercenary leader cocked an eyebrow, “I think you might be going in the wrong direction, Thomas, we’re off to help Gabriel and the others.”

The mage tsked, “Somehow I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

“And yet you still seem to be following.”

“Yeah, I gave it some thought,” Thomas scratched his head, “We either find them dead, which is great, or we arrive in time to save the day, which, I realised, is also great.”

“Dare I ask why?” Archimedes said with a sidelong look, never breaking his stride.

“It just occurred to me how wonderful it would be to have eternal gloating rights over the pair of bastards.”

“How noble.”

“You don’t pay me for my sense of nobility,” Thomas pointed out.

“Indeed. At any rate, if you come with us then you are to do as you are instructed. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“I mean it, Thomas.”

“Just don’t ask me to be nice to the ingrates and we’ll be just fine,” Thomas answered, settling into the column beside Adrian.

They stopped briefly at the edge of town so Archimedes could gauge the remaining sunlight away from the shadows of buildings and scaffolding. He was busy squinting at the sky when Violet approached him, Rodney in hand.

“I was just wondering, Archimedes, and I hate to be indelicate here, but,” she pursed her lips, “Didn’t Rodney drown?”

Archimedes frowned down at the cricket, “Quite right - an unfortunate casualty in our battle against the wyvern. It wouldn’t be the first time Vish has lost a cricket though.”

“I thought as much,” she hummed.

“Something else on your mind?”

“Just that, the wyvern attack was not many cycles ago. It seems unlikely that Vish would have been able to train up a cricket in that time. Doubly unlikely that he could train a cricket to hop halfway across The Kaden Circle to a town it’s never visited, and somehow convey to the guild master there, non-verbally, that it has a message for a man it’s never met.”

They both looked at the cricket again. It certainly didn’t look all that intelligent.

“You think there’s a soul in there,” Archimedes concluded.

“I think there must be. The question is, whose?”