"No," I agreed, "that's definitely not a normal fox."

Constable Burroughs gave her collapsible metal baton a couple of quick swishes, and the creature flinched back, even though it was at least fifteen feet away.

"Sparkle, do you know what that is?" I asked.

From above my head - Burroughs twitched but didn't look away from our assailant - Sparkle replied, "I think it's a dusk fox."

"Okay…what can you tell us about it?" I said, feeling a surge of hope.

"Not much," Sparkle said unhappily. "I don't know a lot about them. They were super rare even before I was born, and I've never actually seen one, so I never learned much about them. It's pretty."

The fox-creature was rather pretty, in a dangerous, wild animal sort of way. Sadly, I wasn't in a position to admire it at the moment.

"Did you know," Burroughs said conversationally, "that you have a talking fairy hovering above your head?"

"You haven't gone mad," I said in what I hoped was a calm tone.

"That isn't very reassuring," Burroughs said flatly.

Sparkle giggled.

The dusk fox's eyes were flicking from one of us to another, but always came back to me. It backed up a step uncertainly, then whined and took two slow steps forward and bared its teeth. Then it whined again and crouched lower, but not in a way that suggested it was about to spring at us.

Not that I'm any kind of animal expert, but I would've sworn that the creature was displaying confusion and uncertainty.

I really, really wished Ken could leave the Hall.

In one swift, smooth motion, the dusk fox shifted its crouch, reoriented itself on Constable Burroughs, then launched at her. I released the shield spell I'd been holding ready and a translucent plane of blue force appeared between her and the fox creature, which twisted in mid-air so that it deflected off my shield to one side instead of slamming straight into it.

At the same time, Constable Burroughs side-stepped away from me to get out of the path of the fox's leap. The move put her in position to fetch the fox a sharp smack on the shoulder with her baton as it landed.

They would have ended up almost face-to-face if the fox hadn't yipped in pain and shot away toward the nearest gap between buildings again, presumably toward the safety of shadows that had been pushed far back down the alley by Sparkle's illumination. It did an almost comical twist/flip move as it realized there was no quick escape that way and doubled back, bolting across the street.

I had just enough time to see a still lightly smoking scorch mark on its shoulder where the constable's baton had struck it. Then it was past us. It had, I noticed for the first time, a collar of some sort around its neck.

The sun crested the horizon…or rather, came up over the low hills that made up the horizon for us…its light flowing down the center of the street like a glowing river. The brilliant morning sun seemed to wash away the enchantment of Sparkle's light, and shadows returned in its wake…one moment missing, the next there, as if they'd never been gone.

In direct sunlight, I could see that the tips of the fox's ears, tails, and paws were a rich midnight blue. It made a sharp turn and vanished into the shadow cast by a postbox. It didn't just move into the shadows there…as it entered the shadows, it literally vanished, as if diving into a pool of water, only without the ripples.

It reappeared in the shadows between two buildings down the street to my right, building up speed for another charge. Now that I could see it more clearly, aiming my spell was a lot easier, and I riddled its side and shoulder with needle-sharp slivers of ice. It let out a pained sound and skidded to a halt in the mouth of the alley, staring at us.

It was, it seemed, reluctant to come out into the sunlight…so I gathered energy again and cast another spell.

A ball of brilliant white light popped into existence above the fox's head. It wasn't as pure as sunlight - I was still having some trouble producing that - but it was bright, and the dusk fox responded by crouching down and whining as it glanced around for someplace to retreat.

My light had made new shadows…but as it was directly above the fox, none of the shadows were within easy reach for it. But it also didn't seem to be hurt by the light. Maybe it was only natural light? Or maybe shadows gave it strength?

Questions for another time. Its tails lashed agitatedly behind it, and it started pawing at its collar.

"I can call animal control…" Constable Burroughs said uncertainly, apparently ignoring the spells I'd cast in favor of dealing with the more immediate problem.

The dusk fox was still pawing at its collar, alternating between whines and growls. Its eyes came up and met mine, and even through the now-dimmed red glow, I thought I saw something that wasn't either anger or hostility. It wasn't afraid, it wasn't angry…it was frustrated.

"Let me try something," I said quietly, and started walking slowly towards the fox.

I heard Burroughs make a sound that put me in mind of a transmission slipping gears, but I heard her footsteps following mine.

"Caley," Sparkle said from above me, "what're you doing?"

"Testing a theory," I said calmly. I stopped directly in front of the fox, with a good twenty feet separating us. It was still pawing at its collar, pushing the unattractive leather thing as far up its neck as the collar would go again and again.

Trying to get it off?

"Hold still," I said quietly, and the fox whined unhappily. It looked up at me and growled, its body tensing to leap, then shivering and swaying before tensing again. This cycle repeated several times as I watched, pausing only when the fox pawed at its collar before resuming.

"It's like it's fighting itself," Burroughs said from beside me.

"Yeah," Sparkle agreed, alighting on my left shoulder.

"Yeah," I concurred, then spoke to the fox again. "Hold as still as you can. I'm going to try to get that collar off you."

The fox's eyes widened in an expression of distinct comprehension, and it froze in place…or rather, it froze as much as it could. Its muscles kept tensing to leap, then spasming and trembling as it resisted the urge.

Ice. Ice might do the trick. "This is going to be very cold," I said in a quiet, soothing voice to the fox. "I'm sorry if it hurts."

The fox wuffed at me and closed its eyes.

I gathered energy and cast my spell, watching as frost gathered on the fox's collar, thickening into a solid layer of ice. The fox shuddered and whined in discomfort.

I made the ice colder rather than thicker, and colder still. The fox shook its head uncomfortably, but didn't move otherwise. When I hoped the ice was cold enough, I cast another spell, sliding a thin, small wedge of invisible force between the fox's neck and the collar.

Then I snapped the wedge of force sharply upward. With an audible pop, the collar snapped and fell to the fox's feet, accompanied by the crackling of ice.

Almost before the ice-coated collar hit the pavement, the fox had turned and bolted down the alley and into the deep shadows there, where it vanished. But not without once last glimpse of its glowing red eyes, fixed unmistakably on me. And not without very clearly, very distinctly saying, "Thank you!" in a female voice rich with relief and happiness.

Constable Burroughs and I stood there in silence for a moment before she said quietly, "You're coming back to the station house with me, and we're going to have a little talk."

It wasn't a request. I sighed. "If this isn't an official chat, how about the Oak & Ivy instead? We can get a bite of breakfast while we're talking, and there won't be anybody else there at this hour."

I turned and saw that she was staring at Sparkle instead of me. "Do they know about…?" She nodded at Sparkle.

"Yes," I said carefully.

She stared at Sparkle a moment longer, then looked directly at me as she collapsed her baton and slid it into a holster on her belt. "Yeah, all right then. Not like I can possibly make a formal report of this anyway. I just want to know what the hell I walked into this morning."

I smiled a little. "Believe me, Constable, I get that."

She ran a hand through her hair and then looked up and sighed. "Forgot my hat again. Well, at least I'm not technically on duty this time."

It was a short walk to the Oak & Ivy, where Malcolm carefully poked his head out and glanced around when I knocked on the door. "Heard some strange sounds out here, we did," he said quietly, eyeing the constable thoughtfully. "Figured we'd best stay inside."

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"Very wise," I agreed. "But it's all over now. Are you open for breakfast?"

He smiled and opened the door wider, stepping back. "For you? Always, Caley, always. Come in. You too, Constable."

We settled at a small table by one of the front windows, far enough from the bar to not be overheard if we spoke quietly. I sat down with my back to the door, figuring Constable Burroughs would want to keep an eye on it, and she gave me a polite nod as she sat across from me.

"I suspect," I said after Malcolm took breakfast orders from us, "that you have a pile of questions, Constable."

"Call me D.T.," she said, then rubbed her face. "Good lord, do I have questions."

I tipped my head a little. "D.T.? D.T. Burroughs? Your parents weren't Edgar Rice Burroughs fans, were they?"

She grimaced eloquently. "Yes they were, and yes they did."

Through an act of sheer will - and because I'd had some acquaintances in the past with giggle-worthy names - I managed to keep from showing even the faintest hint of amusement. But I still couldn't resist asking, "Your name is really - "

She cut me off with an upheld finger. "When I'm not on duty, you can call me D.T., or you can call me Burroughs. Do not use my complete name. And if you call me Deety, we're having words."

I shook my head firmly. "Wouldn't dream of it. I've read both Burroughs and Heinlein, and wouldn't do that to you." I enunciated the letters carefully, then smiled. "For what it's worth, I think it's a pretty name, and a strong one."

And she was rather pretty to go with it, I thought privately. She had a strong jaw that wouldn't have looked out of place on a superhero and had an athlete's build that I appreciated. In better light, I could see that her auburn hair was leaning strongly towards dark red, and her eyes were a rich brown.

Maybe it was the months of near-total isolation making me hungry for human contact, but I was definitely finding her attractive. I've been hit on in the past by both men and women, and found it flattering even once the novelty wore off and it became more of an annoyance than anything else. But I'd never given much thought to relationships either way, and now definitely wasn't the right time to be starting.

She cleared her throat, not quite looking at me. "Yes, well…thank you."

"So, D.T.," I said, "ask away."

She nodded a little, opened her mouth…then closed it again. She frowned a little, took a breath and let it out, then opened and closed her mouth again.

Malcolm returned then and put two cups of tea on the table, along with a large chocolate chip scone on a plate. "Breakfast will be along in a few, ladies. The scone's for the little one, so she doesn't try to eat the sugar bowl." He winked.

Sparkle giggled.

I smiled up at him. "Thanks, Malcolm."

He tipped an imaginary hat to me and headed back toward the kitchen again, leaving us alone.

Sparkle immediately dove off my shoulder and attacked the scone with a happy cry.

D.T. watched her, wide-eyed, then finally looked at me and asked, "She's really a fairy? I'm not hallucinating?"

I very carefully didn't laugh at the question, remembering when I'd felt the same way myself. I just nodded. "She's very real, and she is most assuredly a fairy. Her name is Sparkle."

"Sparkle?"

My little purple companion was up to her shoulders in the scone, and had to struggle a bit to pull back and look up at us. "Huh?"

There were crumbs in her hair. I gave her a quick dusting with two fingers. "A little decorum, maybe? We have a new friend here." I said the last bit hopefully…not only did I not want the local constable upset with me, I didn't want her thinking I was completely insane either.

"Oh, sure!" Sparkle said cheerfully. "Sorry!" Instead of diving back in head-first, she plopped down cross-legged on the plate and started tearing hunks off of the scone, looking up at us as she ate.

D.T. stared at her for a long moment. "Uh…it's very nice to meet you, Sparkle."

Sparkle said - or tried to, at least, with a mouth-full of scone - something that sounded like "Likewise!"

D.T. opened her mouth to say something, closed it again, then shook her head and started spooning sugar into her tea. I did the same, and we sipped our tea in silence for a minute before she asked, "So…what was that thing in the street, and why was it attacking you? And were you actually…what, throwing ice at it? You made a light out of thin air. And I think you put a shield of some sort between me and it?"

I smiled a little at the deluge of questions. "In order…I honestly don't know what it was or why it was attacking me. Yes, I was throwing ice at it, I made light, and I put a shield in front of you when it tried to attack you. That was magic."

"Magic," she said flatly.

I shrugged. "Sounds insane, right? But magic is real."

"Show me," she challenged.

I glanced around quickly…the street outside was empty and we were alone in the pub except for Malcolm and Judy O'Day, both of whom were already clued in. Ken had made a few passing references to the ICOA trying to keep magic and the supernatural a secret, but hadn't gone into any detail yet.

And…honestly, I found myself really wanting to talk to another human being about it, now that the opportunity presented itself.

So I showed her. I held my right hand out palm up, and silently cast the light spell that had become second nature to me now. I made the light about tennis-ball sized, barely brighter than a 20 watt bulb, and almost completely heat-less, just warm enough to feel different than the surrounding air, expecting her to poke it.

I was not disappointed. It was the first thing she did after the ball of light formed above my hand. She reached out and stuck her finger into it. Then bent down and looked at the space between it and my hand.

Obligingly, I took my hand away from the light and then held it out for her inspection.

She took my hand, ran her fingers over my palm, then turned my hand over, pushed the sleeve of my hoodie up to my elbow and ran her fingers over my bare skin.

Then she released my hand and stared at the light, which now floated unsupported about a foot above the table-top. She ran a hand around it, then cupped her hands around it so that it lit them up from within. Then she dropped her hands to the table and just stared at it, apparently dumbfounded.

"It'll stay there until I stop feeding it energy," I offered helpfully.

"Is it hard to maintain?" She asked, sounding a little bit faint.

"It was at first, but now it's like breathing…I barely notice it," I said. "I could crank it up to about 150 lumens before I'd start to feel it, and even then it wouldn't be much of a strain."

"Oh my god," she said softly. "I'm looking at real magic, aren't I."

It wasn't a question, so I just nodded. I also thought I detected a hint of Wales in her accent.

"What else can you do?" She asked excitedly.

I chuckled. "All kinds of things. But I'd rather not show off too much in public. I guess it's supposed to be secret."

"You guess it's secret?" D.T. asked, then continued without taking a breath, "Is it like magic in fantasy novels? Casting spells to change one thing into another, throw fireballs, that sort of thing. Did you go to some sort of magic school? Can anybody learn, or is it an innate talent?"

That last question was, I thought, asked rather hopefully.

"I guess it's secret because I'm still learning, and my lessons have largely been magical theory and practical application without any history or cultural info. So far, anyway." I smiled and snuffed out the light with a flick of my fingers. "It's a lot like magic in fantasy novels. I can't throw fireballs yet, and I'm told I might not be able to as I have a strong affinity for water magic. I didn't go to a magical school…I didn't even know about magic myself until about six months ago. And I honestly don't know if it's something anybody can learn or not. But I'll ask."

"Who's teaching you?" She asked, obviously burning with curiosity now.

"Would you believe a ghost?" I sipped my tea, very interested to see her response.

She blinked a couple of times, then shrugged. "Sure, why not? I believe in the paranormal. Been watching ghost hunting shows on the telly since I was a kid. Anyway, I just saw you casting spells at some sort of definitely-not-natural fox creature out in the street, and I'm sitting at a table with a fairy. Ghosts aren't much of a stretch at this point."

"Touché," I nodded. "This is not at all how I expected this to go…you're taking this awfully well."

She shrugged again. "I saw some strange shite when I was a kid. Monster in the closet. My da' taught me a Welsh phrase to drive it away. Real tongue-twister. And I clearly remember seeing what I was sure were fairies in the back garden at dusk during the summer."

"Could've been a kind of boggart," Sparkle said between bites. "They love tormenting human children, and they're very sensitive to positive feelings like bravery. And fairies are everywhere, especially in gardens, so you really might've."

D.T. looked at Sparkle for a moment, then back to me and spread her hands. Then grinned. "Been waiting for this kind of validation all my life. I never stopped believing. Though the College of Policing came close to making me."

Malcolm emerged from the kitchen and swept over to us. "Here we are, ladies! Fry-up with mushrooms," he put a plate down in front of me, "and without," he put the second plate in front of D.T. "I'll be back in a minute with some toast."

D.T. stared at her plate, then gave me a whimsical smile. "I think my arteries are hardening just looking at this."

"Mine too," I agreed, picking up my fork. "But it's not an every-day thing, so I say enjoy the treat."

"Amen," she agreed.

We both dug in, eating in companionable silence for a few minutes. D.T. sneaked Sparkle a few bites of sausage, and I pretended not to notice.

Replete, I sat back and looked across the table and asked, "So…now what?"

D.T. sat back too and shrugged. "Well, like I said earlier, it's not like I can do an official write-up on this. My governor would have me suspended and in hospital before you could say 'straight jacket.'" She wiped her mouth with her napkin and drank what was left of her tea. "What's your official standing in the area?"

I grimaced. "I don't really have one. As I understand it, it's my job to protect Oakwood Hall…"

She lifted an eyebrow.

I shook my head. "No offense, D.T., but I don't know you well enough yet."

She smiled a little. "Fair. What about the town?"

"She protects that too," Malcolm said, coming over with the teapot. "Though that's not official, just something her family has done for as long as the town's been here. More tea?"

I nodded. "Please."

"Me too, thanks," D.T. said. "So…there's a lot of history to be had between the town and your family, huh?" She asked me.

"More than I know," I said honestly.

"More than any of us know," Malcolm said. "And the town protects her family, if it comes to it," he added in a politely warning tone.

"Duly noted," D.T. said.

Malcolm nodded. "Good. Holler if you want anything else, ladies!" He headed back towards the bar.

D.T. smiled at me. "I think I've just been warned."

"At least it was polite," I said, returning her smile.

She doctored her tea, then looked at me seriously. "Can I be honest with you?"

"I hope so," I said.

"I got sent to Oakwood because the last constable asked for a transfer," she said. "Guess he was uncomfortable working in his home town, which I kinda get." She sipped her tea. "I've been having doubts about staying in the force. Not sure it's right for me. They sent me here to cool my heels and consider what I really want, because this town has almost no crime on record. Regardless, I intend to do my job to the best of my ability until I decide one way or the other."

I nodded. "I respect that."

She pursed her lips. "I'll make you a deal, then." She waved her spoon at me. "If you hear something weird is going on in town, you come and get me first, and we'll look into it together. If I see something weird in town, I'll call you to come lend me a hand. Completely off the books and unofficial, of course. But that way, I'll be doing my job proper like."

Relief washed over me, and I smiled. "Of course. That sounds fine to me. To be honest in return, it's a real weight off my mind to know I'll have some kind of help if I need it."

"Hey!" Sparkle protested. "I helped!"

I smiled down at her. "Yes you did. Quite a lot, too. But I meant someone outside immediate family."

"Oh," she settled down and nodded. "That's OK then."

D.T. chuckled. "Glad that's settled." Then she sipped her tea and smiled. "I could do with some weirdness in my life, really."

"Well," I finished stirring sugar into mine and sipped it, "hopefully you won't have too much, at least not like today's."

She lifted her cup in salute, and I tapped mine against it.

"Hey," I said impulsively, "you should meet me back here at the pub tonight."

"Oh?" D.T. asked, meeting my eyes and looking interested.

I smiled hopefully. "Well…it's not weird or anything, but you could get to know the locals, unofficially as it were, and there's a friendly darts game…"

D.T. returned my smile. "That sounds really good."