"What you're describing does indeed sound like a dusk fox," Ken said, "though I haven't heard of any being seen in…oh, it's been a good hundred and fifty years. I think they were last seen around 1865 or 1870. Though I do recall your father mentioning some being kept as pets by wizards of the ICOA." He added that last bit with obvious distaste.

"Pets?" I asked incredulously as I emerged from my bedroom closet, freshly showered and dressed after the morning's exertions. "But it looked very intelligent, and I could've sworn I heard it speak."

"It spoke!" Sparkle piped up from where she was lounging, teenager-sized, on the bed.

"That's very likely," Ken nodded, pacing restlessly back and forth in front of the windows. "They were considered - at least by your ancestors, Caley - to be as intelligent as humans, if not more."

I gently pushed Sparkle's feet out of my way and sat down on the edge of the bed. "What else can you tell me about them?" Sparkle sat up and leaned against me, which made me smile.

Ken paused in his pacing and seemed to flicker for a moment as he considered before speaking. "Dusk foxes are a species native to Faerie in the Otherworld, distantly related to both the High Sidhe and black dogs, as well as a possible connection to the kitsune. As a result, they are at least mildly allergic to iron and iron alloys. They are highly intelligent and usually very friendly towards humans traveling in Faerie, as long as the human in question is polite and friendly in turn." He frowned slightly. "I have vague memories of a clan of dusk foxes having made a deal with one of your ancestors, though I don't remember the terms of the deal or when it occurred. That appears to be another of the intentional holes in my memory."

"Do you know anything about that?" I asked, giving Sparkle a gentle nudge.

She sighed. "Sorry, no. Like I said, they were already pretty rare before I was born."

I started to make a mental note to try to learn more about fairy biology, realized I'd already done so more than once, and gave it up as a bad job. Anyway, did I really want to know how much older Sparkle was? I decided that it didn't matter, unless it became important for some reason.

"That's all right," I said aloud. "So, they're intelligent and they can speak. Most of what I know about kitsune is probably fictional, but I remember a bit about black dog lore. Are dusk foxes a bad omen when seen too?"

"No," Ken said firmly. "In that, they're more like kitsune, considered harbingers of good fortune, as long as you don't earn their ire somehow. Then they're usually mischievous rather than outright malicious."

I considered what I'd seen that morning, frowning a little. "This one…it seemed like it was struggling with itself half the time. Like it was being forced to do something it didn't want to, until I sheared off its collar. That's when it spoke, too."

Ken sat down on the window seat facing us. "It's possible that someone was using that collar to control it. Why didn't you bring it back with you?"

I winced. "It honestly never even occurred to me."

Ken smiled gently. "That's all right. Any enchantments on it were probably destroyed when you broke it anyway. In fact, I'd say you got lucky, and that whoever did the enchanting was either careless or arrogant."

"Both," Sparkle said, sounding bored.

I glanced at her - she was industriously making an elaborate cat's cradle out of a loop of of bright purple string - then to Ken. "Why?"

"Well," Ken said, gesturing idly, "a spellcaster who was really on the ball and had managed to enslave a dusk fox - likely through the collar being enchanted somehow, as you undoubtedly guessed - could have done better than what sounds to me like brute-force compulsions and…" He trailed off and frowned. "Von Einhardt."

I made the connection at the same time, remembering the way he'd tried to entrap me with mental magic. My head spun a little as alarm flooded me, and I said, "I thought he wanted into the Hall, not to kill me outright."

Beside me, I felt Sparkle stiffen.

Ken pursed his lips, then waggled one hand back and forth. "Killing might be his backup plan…doing so would cause the defenses keeping him out of the Hall to slowly degrade and finally fail, but it would likely take years. Certainly less than ideal compared to you 'willingly' letting him in immediately."

Sparkle made a disgusted noise. "Unseemly haste from one such as he."

I glanced at her again - her fingers were now thoroughly entangled in a purple string knot rather than a cat's cradle - and asked, "What do you mean?"

"Wizards," she said dismissively, beginning to carefully pick her fingers free.

I looked to Ken, who smiled wryly. "Yes, that's what you're training to be…technically. Members of the International Consortium of Organized Arcana - "

"Pompous dorks," Sparkle muttered, once again making me think she was repeating she'd heard my mother say that more than a few times.

" - Have long attempted to claim the title of 'Wizard' solely for their own members, calling spellcasters of other traditions and who refuse membership sorcerers and sorceresses," Ken finished.

"Which is a much cooler sounding title anyway," Sparkle said with a decisive nod as she wiggled her now freed fingers and set about un-knotting her string.

I had to admit she was right.

"Okay," I said, "so why is it unseemly haste?"

"Oh!" Ken looked sheepish. "Magically talented people who practice their art have a tendency to live substantially longer - and healthier - lives than common humans."

"How much longer?" I asked. Always curious, that's me.

"Oh…with good diet and health care, maybe two centuries of active living, plus another forty or fifty years of what could politely be called old age," Ken replied. "Longer, if they cheat. Which, from what we know of him, I wouldn't put past von Einhardt."

"Cheat?"

"Don't ask," Sparkle murmured.

"Really, don't," Ken agreed. "At least not yet. It's usually unpleasant."

"Ah," I was still trying to wrap my head the idea that I might live to see two-fifty. At least I'd have plenty of time to find some hobbies.

"Point being," Ken said, dragging us back on topic, "someone like von Einhardt undoubtedly has had plenty of time to plan, and no shortage of time to accomplish his goals." He frowned. "It does make this incident rather strange, if we connect it to him. It could be completely unrelated."

At which point it hit me just how cruelly my parents had been cheated out of not just years or decades together, but centuries. And all that time I would have had with them. "Ah," I said again, sniffling a little as tears threatened to fall.

Sparkle hugged my arm gently and whispered, "It's okay, Caley. Don't think about it that way. Think about how they cherished the time they had together."

I took a deep breath and let it out, doing just that…but still wishing in my heart that they'd had more time. Also, I really needed to stop underestimating Sparkle.

Apparently Ken did too, because he blinked in confusion for a moment, then nodded comprehension as he mentally caught up with her.

"So," I said after a moment, "I have three immediate questions: First, since you reminded me of it, D.T. was curious to know if anyone can learn magic or if it's an innate talent; second, why aren't there more of my immediate ancestors around; third, and probably most important, if this wasn't von Einhardt, who else could it have been? It seems to me that the dusk fox had to have been there specifically for me, since it came after me first and seemed focused on me even after D.T. intervened…and to my knowledge, I don't have any enemies, potential or otherwise, besides von Einhardt." I smiled wryly. "Heck, how many people outside of Oakwood and my faculty advisor even know I'm here yet?"

Ken pondered that for a long moment before answering. "To take the third - and indeed most important - question first, after the incident with the ogre probably quite a lot of people know you're here, or will before too much more time passes. However, I don't think any of them qualify as threats, at least not yet. At worst, they will be curious to learn about you, so they can figure out how best to make use of you as Guardian of the Hall and a traditionally neutral party in the supernatural world."

I grimaced. "I think that actually sounds worse than 'threat'."

Sparkle giggled.

Ken smiled wryly. "Possibly. First question second, the answer is both. Technically, anyone can learn magic, but the vast majority of people don't have enough natural talent for manipulating the energies of magic to make them first-rate spellcasters. Most people are like the O'Days…talented enough to learn a few small spells and rituals. Powerful magical talents do pop up randomly - your father believed magical ability was a combination of dominant and recessive genetic traits - but mostly they travel in bloodlines, building over time." He gestured toward me idly. "Thus, you, for example."

I nodded. "Makes sense. I think she wants to learn."

Ken smiled. "Once you know her well enough to be sure of her motives, I wouldn't object to you trying to teach her a bit of magic. You can learn a lot by teaching skills you know."

"I did a bit of work on the side as a history tutor at Cambridge," I said with a nod of agreement. "It helped me review what I knew, and pointed out some holes in what I'd learned."

"Exactly," Ken said. "Finally, second question last…" He sighed. "Your ancestors have tended not to live their full spans of life for a variety of reasons. Not all of them met tragic ends like your parents. Some were brought down by disease, others by their own recklessness, or by standing up to threats that were simply too big for them." He frowned. "You are, to my knowledge, the last of your bloodline…but that seems strangely unlikely, and is perhaps a hole in my memories. I will have to do some research."

"What happens if I die without having any children?" I asked. "Or if I don't have a daughter?"

Ken shrugged a little. "The latter is highly unlikely…your ancestors wanted the Guardian to be female, the magic of the Hall tends to that. The former is a topic for another time, and hopefully not something we'll ever have to give any thought to."

"But I don't even have a boyfriend," I protested.

"Or girlfriend, Sparkle giggled. "But you have time."

"Indeed," Ken agreed, then rose. "Now, you owe me a couple of hours of spellcasting practice, then a bit of fencing after lunch, and it's Thursday…"

"Pub night!" Sparkle cheered, bouncing to her feet and pulling me to mine in the process.

"I invited D.T. to meet me there," I said. "To get to know everybody." And hopefully to give me a chance to get to know her better. For that matter, just watching her interact with the pub's regulars while off-duty would tell me a lot about her.

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Ken nodded. "An excellent idea. I do approve of you making an ally of the local police constable."

"Her arrival and help," I said thoughtfully, "did make me quite a bit less afraid."

"Fear isn't automatically a bad thing. If you don't let it cloud your mind and impair your judgment it can make you cautious, and keep you alert and aware. It can sharpen your senses and speed your thought processes." Ken smiled gently. "There's nothing wrong with being afraid, Caley, as long as you don't let fear control you. It just means you're smart enough to recognize the danger. And the best antidote to fear is knowledge and training."

"Nice segue," I said dryly. "Come on, let's go toss some spells around."

The rest of the day passed uneventfully until it was time for me to head down to the pub, at which point I became unaccountably flustered about what I was going to wear. I have always dressed simply, and never considered myself vain, but tonight for some reason I wanted to dress…not my best, but not as casual as I usually did. After dismissing several outfits from my own closet, Sparkle raided my mother's wardrobe and returned with an outfit that was exactly what I'd been looking for.

A simple satin A-line skirt in forest green that fell to my knees, with a matching button-front vest that bore a striking resemblance to a corset, but which was only comfortably snug. They fit me perfectly.

Beneath them, I added a cream colored satin blouse with rolled short sleeves, and a pair of cream colored tights that matched the blouse. I capped the outfit off with a pair of comfortable ankle boots in exactly the same shade of green as the skirt and vest, and a russet colored cardigan sweater that I tied around my shoulders with an eye towards the walk home in cooler night air.

I turned this way and that in front of my bathroom mirror, nodded approvingly at myself, and headed into town with Sparkle - fairy-sized once more - riding in her accustomed spot on the Master Key.

I arrived at the Oak & Ivy Pub a bit later than usual, close to 7:30, and was immediately welcomed with good cheer and an amusing mix of comments about how pretty I looked, why didn't I dress up more often, and there was no need to dress up for them. Judy O'Day extracted me from the friendly scrum, planted me in one of the tall chairs at the bar, and slid a bread bowl of her homemade stew and a half-glass of red wine in front of me, loudly proclaiming, "Now you all know that young women will dress as they want and no other way. She's late this evening, and probably hasn't eaten, so you all go about your drinking and let the poor girl get some food in her."

So I tucked into my dinner on a wave of warm, good-natured laughter and resumed conversations. I glanced around as I ate, but saw no sign of D.T. Burroughs yet.

"She hasn't come in just yet," Malcolm said as he passed by on his way to deliver four half-pints. "I'm sure she'll be along before you know it."

I knew the moment she arrived almost twenty minutes later, and not just because the little bells over the door chimed when she entered. A hush - not quite quiet, because not everybody did more than look - fell over the pub. I turned to see her standing in the doorway, wearing a pair of black leggings and flat-heeled calf-high boots, with a belled-sleeve tunic that was somehow exactly the same shade as my skirt and vest.

She looked very pretty.

Malcolm O'Day cleared his throat after a moment. "For those of you who haven't met her yet, yon young lass is D.T. Burroughs, our new constable. She helped our Caley out with a spot of bother in town early this morning, so I'd consider it a personal favor if you'd all make her feel welcome."

Apparently everyone in earshot understood what "a spot of bother" meant, or at least thought they did, and in moments D.T. was at the center of a friendly mass of townsfolk who all wanted to shake her hand and introduce themselves. After several minutes of that, Judy took pity on her and extracted her in much the same way she'd extracted me a half-hour earlier.

"Well," D.T. said in obvious amusement as she sat down beside me at the bar, "that was a much friendlier reception than I was expecting."

I smiled at her. "It's a friendly town, once you belong to it."

"And I belong to it now, hm?" She asked, smiling lopsidedly.

"You do now," Judy said firmly as she appeared behind the bar. "Have you eaten this evening?"

"I have not," D.T. said. "Whatever Caley is finishing smells amazing, though."

Judy beamed. "Beef stew, my own personal recipe, in a sourdough bread bowl."

"Sounds perfect," D.T. said, "and a half-pint of bitter, please."

Judy nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

D.T. swiveled her chair towards me and smiled. "You look lovely this evening."

"So do you," I said. "You must cut an impressive figure in your dress uniform."

"I like to think so," she said, looking around. "It's cozier than I was expecting with so many people in it. I've seen too many pubs become a crush with a crowd like this."

"It's all about the way you space the tables out," Malcolm said, delivering her half-pint. "I don't leave them enough room to congregate in large clusters except by the door, the dartboard, and the jukebox."

She took a sip of the beer, nodded appreciatively, and smiled. "Clever. I approve."

He tipped an imaginary hat to her and headed off down the bar as Judy delivered D.T.'s meal.

"Here you are, then," Judy said cheerfully. "I do hope you enjoy it."

"I'm sure I will," D.T. replied. "If it were a little quieter in here, you'd be able to hear my stomach rumbling."

Judy laughed and departed, D.T. tucked into her food, and I set about finishing mine.

I was taking small sips of my wine when D.T. quietly asked, "Okay, I'm burning with curiosity. Is Sparkle around this evening?"

I smirked and gestured to the Master Key where it lay against my breastbone atop my blouse.

She blinked and leaned closer to take a better look at it, then sucked in a little breath. "No way!"

I laughed. "That's her. It's how she stays with me in public when there's people around who aren't necessarily clued in."

D.T. settled back and shook her head. "Amazing. So, there's a running game of darts, I see…"

I grinned. "I've been known to play a few rounds, but I don't think I'm up for it tonight. Do you play?"

She smirked. "I've been known to. And, as you said this morning, I should get to know these people better." She ate the last bite of her stew and collected her beer. "Will you be horribly offended?"

I gave her a warm smile. "Not at all. That's part of why I invited you, after all."

She rose, winked at me, and headed for the game in progress.

Judy paused in passing to collect the remains of our meals and murmured, "You did a good thing, bringing her here to meet the community. We like to know our police here, and like to have them be family." She nodded to me and disappeared into the kitchen.

I turned to watch D.T. insinuate herself into the darts game, saying something that made the older men there laugh and make room for her. Yes, I had done the right thing. I sat back, sipped my wine, and relaxed, feeling very good.

It didn't last. A little after 9:30, Bellinus von Einhardt came through the door.

He was still wearing the same dark suit and crimson vest under a dark overcoat I'd seen him in at Harrods, and silence literally spread around him. His silver dragon-headed cane caught the light as he reached up and took off his fedora.

I felt a chill.

His eyes found me instantly and he put on that not-quite-real smile as he walked towards me, moving through the patrons like a snake through tall grass. Everyone he passed turned to watch him with obvious unease, which he ignored utterly, either not noticing or not caring.

"Ah, young Caitlyn," he said in a genial tone of voice, "what a lovely surprise. I stop on the road to have a drink before continuing, and here you are. I am delighted." He sat down at the bar, leaving D.T.'s vacated chair between us, and looked at Malcolm. "I should like a hot cup of tea. Earl Grey."

Malcolm nodded, shot me a look that I didn't understand, and went to get von Einhardt's tea. At the same time, I felt Sparkle shift restlessly. Evidently, von Einhardt's presence made her as uneasy as it made me.

I was completely certain that he wasn't at all surprised to find me there. Heck, the dusk fox's 'attack' on me that morning might have been at least in part to let him know I was still in the area.

"I'm surprised to see you here," I said politely. "Have you been well? You never did call to arrange that visit to Oakwood Hall."

His smile never faltered, never changed. It was like a mask. "Shockingly impolite of me, I know," he said with obviously feigned chagrin. "I have been terribly busy. But I have been well, and thank you for asking. What of you, though? You look a bit tired, I think."

As he said it, he twirled his cane around and hooked the dragon's head on the edge of the bar. Its eyes caught the light as they had that day at Harrods, and I felt that odd, faint, cobweb-like sensation brush over my face.

Sparkle squirmed a little again, and I felt a rush of emotions from her…mostly a mix of smug satisfaction and worry.

"Oh, I've just been busy getting settled in," I said breezily, taking a sip of my wine. "You know, lots to tidy up and so many of my father's things to go through…it's long and tedious work."

The pub's noise level had returned to something approximating its usual background hum, but not nearly as cheerful and boisterous as earlier. I didn't need to look around to know that we were being watched.

Malcolm returned and set a steaming cup of tea on the bar. "Cream and sugar for that?"

"Thank you, no," von Einhardt said, laying a five pound note on the bar and waving dismissively when Malcolm offered him change. Instead, he spoke to me, picking up where I'd left off. "Yes, I imagine it must be. Difficult to inherit such an undoubtedly complex estate. Perhaps I could take some of that onerous task from your shoulders? I could even come up to the house this very evening, if you'd like. I wasn't on my way anywhere in particular."

I smiled at him, wondering if it looked as false on me as his did on him. "That's very kind of you, but I'm almost done now. It's strange, I haven't found anything in my father's notes to indicate he was working on something with you."

"Oh?" He asked, sipping his tea. His neatly trimmed goatee seemed to twitch as his smile became a mask. "That's rather strange, don't you think?"

"Rather," I agreed. "Why would that be?"

He shook his head. "I really wouldn't know. Perhaps I should come and take a look at his notes. He may have made a reference to me that you wouldn't understand." He still spoke politely, but there was a slightly condescending undertone to it.

I gave him another polite smile. "Really, Mr. von Einhardt...it's almost ten at night now. I was nearly ready to go home to bed when you came in."

"Time of day matters little," he said dismissively. "This is a matter of great importance."

"Then you should have called me, sir," I said firmly. "Rather than waiting until we accidentally bumped into each other. Or was it even an accident?"

I hadn't meant to say that last bit, and winced inwardly after the fact. I didn't want him to know I was suspicious of him and his motives. From the way his eyes narrowed and his cheeks began to turn red, I had a bad feeling he had figured it out.

"Child," he said just as firmly, "You don't know what you're talking about. Surely I can convince you..."

I hadn't seen him pluck his cane from the edge of the bar until the thing's ruby eyes flashed at me and I felt a brief stab of pain in my right temple. Sparkle practically spasmed where she clung to the key, and I heard her make a sound almost like a growl.

"That," I snapped at von Einhardt, "will be quite enough of that."

The pub was suddenly silent except for the scraping of chairs from all around us. Past von Einhardt, I could see that most of the regulars who hadn't already been standing now were, and all of them were watching us.

For his part, von Einhardt actually looked surprised.

"Do that again," I said quietly, "and you will not like the consequences."

He snorted derisively. "I may have underestimated you, child, but you are still only that…a child." He was on his feet suddenly, and grabbed my right arm around the bicep, his fingers digging in painfully. "You will take me to the House right now, or I will - "

There was a metallic snap-hiss, and the length of D.T.'s collapsible metal baton came to rest lightly on von Einhardt's shoulder. She stepped slightly to one side so I could see her clearly as she said very seriously, "Police. You want to let go of the young lady."

To my right, Malcolm had one hand under the bar, and there was a soft, ratcheting click that made a number of people - von Einhard and D.T. included - go completely still. D.T.'s eyes widened, but didn't leave the back of von Einhardt's head. It hadn't sounded at all like I'd expected, but I somehow knew that Malcolm had some sort of gun under the bar.

"Listen to the constable, sir," Malcolm said in a quiet voice. "We don't take kindly to young women being handled roughly in this town. Especially not that particular young woman."

Von Einhardt released my arm and raised his free hand in an open gesture of surrender. "I apologize for my hasty and rude actions. I am under a great deal of..."

"We really don't care," Malcolm cut him off. "You've worn out your welcome. I suggest you go."

I had never literally seen a man's face darken in anger before. I hadn't known it was possible. But von Einhardt's face literally seemed to grow darker, flushing a deep red at his cheeks and temple, his eyes seeming to darken and the shadows around them growing deeper somehow. "You don't know what you're dealing with."

"Neither do you, buddy," Someone said from the crowd around us. As the words were said, people parted to make a blatant path to the door. I glanced around and saw that several of the older men were holding knives of various sizes.

D.T. side-stepped and lightly tapped von Einhardt's shoulder with her baton. "Sir, you can leave now, or I can escort you to the station so you and I can have a little talk. I'm off duty, but that won't stop me."

Von Einhardt stood stock still for a long moment, then said stiffly. "Since I have worn out my welcome, I shall depart. But I will be in touch," he nodded to me, bowing slightly. "Perhaps we can arrange a convenient time to..."

"We can't," I said flatly. "You are not welcome in my home."

"Or in this town," someone said bluntly.

Von Einhardt's cheeks actually managed to flush even darker red, and I saw a vein pulsing in his forehead. He seemed to grind his teeth for a moment, his jaw working and his beard twitching. Then he visibly forced himself to relax, and deftly placed his hat on his head. "Good night," he said to the room at large, making his way down the path to the door that had been cleared for him with as much dignity as one could while retreating.

D.T. followed him to the door and remained watching him as it closed and he vanished into the darkness.

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, and everyone around me began to relax. I felt a couple of reassuring pats on the back, and concerned looks from the people I could see. But nobody asked, they simply returned to their tables. The game of darts that had been abandoned when von Einhardt grabbed me was resumed, and shortly I was alone at the bar with Malcolm on the other side of it.

I could hear some of the older patrons asking one another if the stranger hadn't looked familiar somehow, as Malcolm set a steaming cup of tea in front of me. "You all right?"

I nodded to him and sipped the drink slowly. Its heat eased the chill that had filled me. "Thank you." I glanced around the room. "All of you." The thought that everyone in the room had come to my defense without a question made me feel even warmer inside than the tea.

I received a lot of polite nods and a couple of hand-waves. A few people said something to the effect of "You'd do the same for us," or "We take care of our own."

I silently blessed them.

D.T. seemed to materialize beside me, settling into the tall bar chair as she collapsed her baton again and made it disappear into her belled right sleeve. "What the heck was that about?"

I sipped my tea as Malcolm produced a fresh half-pint for her. Finally, I said, "Walk me home in a bit, and I'll tell you what I know."

D.T. nodded. "Deal."