Mao’s next few days were spent in recovery. The wounds Rinrin had left him were deep but not lethal. Those on his stomach were the worst by far. A crisscrossing mess of scratches that had dug deep before Joseph kicked the fox off him. Aside from another few scratches here and there, he also had a bite mark or two that got infected despite Josei’s expertise at healing the sick..

Oh, and he was missing a chunk from his left ear. That had bled something fierce, which was one reason Joseph had thought he was dying during their mad dash for Josei’s shop. Now it didn’t look too bad. If you were looking at things from the bright side, then it gave Mao a rugged look. Battle scars that spoke of past fights. He was trying to look at it positively.

It got harder when he thought back on it. How Rinrin had leaned in so close that he had no chance of dodging that punch, let alone see it coming. The lack of magic, the trust that he and Mao got along, even if the other was mad for some reason.

Betrayal on both sides. Mao couldn’t forgive Rinrin’s growing list of murders - he’d taken a merchant after failing at house Lejon. Mao heard it from Tobby the day after. Unforgivable stuff… but it was hard to get over a crush. It made Mao feel silly and a little wrong inside, but he’d really liked that other fox. Someone who embraced what they were so beautifully. Power in every movement, speed and grace in each and every leap. Three bushy tails full of magic.

Tails he’d gotten through eating people’s hearts.

Mao remained in bed even after his wounds had healed. He let the days pass without joining their various happenings. Mostly because he was grieving and feeling guilty. But also because the Hunters had come knocking to hear what he had to say for himself.

Ulven had been there, furious as can be, then he’d gotten a pan tossed at his face and when he dodged, 3 smaller pots. Josei had cussed him out when they tried to get inside the shop to find Mao. His scent was all over the scene of almost-murder, nevermind the fact that Joseph had survived and spilled the beans in a panic. The noble had given his side of it as earnestly and Mao-favoring as he could, but he couldn’t hide the fact that he’d been rather out of it when waking up. It was a bit of a blur for him, coming to and seeing two foxes trying to tear each other apart in his bedroom.

That he’d figured out that the black one was Mao was as much luck as it was proof of Joseph’s quick thinking and talent for drawing conclusions. It had saved Mao. Probably. Mao still wasn’t sure if Rinrin would have killed him or just beaten him up for punching him. They had riled each other up pretty bad. Too much emotion at once.

Either way, Ulven and his goons didn’t trust that Joseph hadn’t been tricked, and since they’d yet to find the other fox, Mao was their best lead. He’d fought the other fox. Chances were high that they knew each other, which meant that Mao had held back important information during the interrogation earlier that night. They might even have been working together. It could have been a fight over a meal. Foxes were not pack hunters like wolves. They could get territorial.

Josei sicked Tulip on the Hunters then hurled jars of irvine when they were distracted. Now irevine was a plant to fearfully respect. As far as plants could be aggressive, irevine scored a lofty rank on such lists. They grew by climbing trees and cliff faces, the taller the better - but never in an area open enough for the wind to disturb it, all for a very simple reason. To defend its sweet red berries from pesky berry-eaters, irevine coats itself in a faintly orange dust.

A dust now sticking to the poor Hunters trying to either power through to demand entry into the shop, or as in the case of one poor bastard: roll around on the ground while clutching at his face.

The berries were popular with canines, omnivores, and generally anything good at sniffing out a treat. So to defend against that the dust smelled bad, stuck to everything and irritated the nose and face if inhaled. If you didn’t dunk your head in water to get it off within seconds, you’d break out in hives, itchy patches of puffy skin that sometimes broke to weep pus. Nasty. It had absolutely no effect on birds. Irewine wanted its seeds spread far.

Ulven tried to keep a strict and kept together face despite his running nose, quickly reddening face, and a strong twitch to his features that suggested a terrible itch.

He and his Hunters ended up fleeing once it got too bad, but not without promises of coming back better prepared. Josei tossed another jar of irvine dust after them down the street and one of them actually screamed.

Why did Josei have such a thing in a shop working with medicine? Well, irevine was a catalyst of sorts. It did interesting things if mixed with other herbs, sometimes helpful things. Like chasing away Hunters with highly sensitive noses. Mao felt a faint itch from it himself and he’d never left his room during the argument, on Josei’s instructions. Truly a potent weapon.

His mother believed him 100% as always, even if Mao had spared on the details a bit. It wasn’t an easy thing to admit to a date going as horribly as this one. Nor did he want to admit to how cool Gin had been when surrounded by Hunters. He’d had a crossbow bolt through the leg all night and the fellow didn’t do more than wince.

Mao had a feeling that the people that impressed him these days would worry Josei to death, so he kept a tight leash on any signs of admiration for these questionable role models. Most of said role models were currently chasing each other around the city. They hadn’t managed to catch Rinrin yet and time was ticking.

Any attempts on Mao’s side to join the hunt for the hunter got shot down on all fronts. The Hunters were suspicious of him, Joseph had politely dissuaded Mao from following the Watch, and Gin didn’t exactly stop and wait for anyone to try and help him, not even the Hunters.

So Mao sat in his room, poked at his wounds, and waited. His natural healing was a notch above the average person so these scrapes, however deep, wouldn’t keep him down for long. Still, time passed slowly.

A distraction to his exile from everything that mattered arrived on the last day of spring. Arrived was perhaps the wrong word, because the letter had no messenger to track its sender by. It simply appeared outside Mao’s door one morning, without any scent trail or clue as to how it got there. Even Tulip hadn’t noticed an intruder.

Slightly wary but mostly curious, Mao picked up the envelope. It was far from plain in appearance. The paper wasn’t one solid color but a mixture of white with scraps of flowers melded into it. Pressed daisies, violets, and leaves who’s shapes Mao didn’t recognize. It smelled of no hands to have written or held it, no whiff of the leather or linen of bags or pockets to have been stored in. Instead, the envelope smelled like summer.

The letter within was no less impressive. Pale sunflax paper, slightly yellow. Golden writing covered it in neat rows, yet Mao couldn’t find any smell of ink. It was as if the letters were fused with the material just like the pressed flowers were. A beautiful piece really, but the actual words were what made the fox’s breath catch.

We invite Mao the fox to join our midsummer banquet,

as is the right of all things Wild.

We dine under the rules of hospitality,

on bounties given by lands that thrive.

No harm shall be done within our walls.

No insult met with tooth or claw or horn or paw.

Respect shall be had as it is given.

Side by side,

peace for peace,

Let the people make merry and the Wild Ones feast.

It needn’t have stated a location, Mao knew it at once. The shrine at the edge of the festival grounds. That magical place where the Masked Man had found him peeking through a gap in the paper gates and caught a glimpse of living fairy tales celebrating together. He’d gotten his mask later that same night. To be invited to that gathering of myths and magic was like a dream come true. The greatest honor Mao could imagine. Proof that he was as special as them.

He rushed to show it to Josei at once, practically bouncing with each step, so excited that his poor old mother feared his wounds might open back up. She grew more understanding as he showed her the letter, but not because of its contents.

“I can’t read this, Mao.”

“It’s from the Wild Ones! I’m invited to- what?”

Josei turned the letter around to show Mao the text as if that explained anything. Upon seeing his confusion, Josei realized something and chuckled.

“I guess this wasn’t meant for my eyes. Such tricky magic. You best not show this around too much, Mao. The Wild Ones like their secrets kept.”

Disappointment made Mao’s shoulders slouch, but he soon regained his glee when Josei and he sat down to ponder what the Wild banquet might be like. Mao had caught a glimpse years ago but had little else to go on. To his surprise, Josei had tales of sneaking a peek too, way back when she’d been a little girl.

“I stopped seeing anything special once I grew older. Children have an easier time seeing magic than adults. That or the Wild Ones enjoy surprising them with a hint of wonder every now and then. “

So it was, but that didn’t stop Mao from feeling delighted about it. He’d show it to Tobby for sure. A cat would surely be able to read it. Had he gotten an invitation too? And Joseph-

Mao paused. He and Joseph hadn’t talked much since Rinrin roughed him up. At first Mao had been too injured and miserable to do much more than mope in his room, and Joseph had personal stakes in the hunt for Rinrin now, so the noble had been busy. Time has just sort of passed after that.

He should probably tell Joseph what he knew… He owed him that much. The Hunters were one thing, Mao considered not telling them about Rinrin a… less than wise but somewhat justified reaction at the time. They hadn’t exactly treated him right.

Joseph was his friend. He deserved to know. Especially after having seen Mao in his true form like that… which was another thing they’d need to talk about now that the secret was out. Yes, he’d tell his friend everything.

Goal set, Mao put on some proper clothes - it wouldn’t do to go find his friends dressed in the pants and shirt he slept in, and went for the door. Only to be stopped by the iron wall that was Josei.

“Where are you off to?” his mom asked.

“Erh, to visit Tobby and Joseph,” came his sheepish answer.

Over the course of this year, Josei’s tone of voice had changed back from its previous elation at life’s wonders to the nowadays constant anxiety over Mao’s dangerous outings. It stung the fox with a spike of guilt when he heard her worries eating at her good mood. Sadly, her fears were often justified.

“There’s an entire fox hunt going on out there. Both the Watch and the Hunters are out for blood.”

Mao avoided Josei’s eyes and squirmed on the spot, so she added - just in case it wasn’t obvious enough already, “It’s not safe for you out there.”

It was a good argument and Mao really did feel guilty for subjecting her to these constant worries… But some things you just couldn’t resist doing. Staying inside forever was one of those things Mao couldn’t do.

So unfortunately for Josei, her son’s talent for looking like the most sad most miserable of cooped up boys was on point today. Compromises had to be made. It wasn’t like he was under house arrest or anything. It was just… concern. Concern and a great deal of fear for his well being. Rightly so given the very well armed and sometimes wolf-toothed dangers out there sniffing for foxes. Yet maybe telling Joseph what he knew about Rinrin could cause a difference. Maybe Tobby knew something wise about the Wild that Mao hadn’t yet caught up on. And most importantly of all, the most selfish reason… was that Mao missed his friends.

“I could call them here maybe?” Josei still tried to play damage-control. “Katja is due a visit anyways. That Joseph boy might he harder though, what with his entire family knowing that he nearly died to that scoundrel.”

Safer as it would be to meet at home, Mao had a nagging suspicion that if Josei listened in on them - and she would whether she intended to or not. Their home was a small place where word traveled with ease. - She would lock Mao up and never let him out again. He had not told her that Rinrin had invited him on a hunt, for fear of her disapproving of stealing a chicken or whatever he had thought to be their quarry at the time. He’d worded it vaguely. A ‘chase’, a ‘run’.

That and Joseph had a way of making conspiracies out of everything while theorizing. One murder fox would turn into a whole pack, armed to the teeth and looking to take over Redlog. The final theories of most cases were a bit tamer, but there was always that mid-part of the talking that strained the imagination. Tobby and Mao knew to humor those moments and take them with a pinch of salt. Josei would hear ‘fox murder cult’ and freak out.

Also… he really could use a bit of time not cooped up at home. His injuries were mostly better now and their constant aches had been replaced with that restless itch of sitting still for too long.

“Thanks mom but I’ll start climbing the walls if I stay indoors much longer.”

“You were fine with it just this morning.”

“It isn’t morning now?”

Josei eyed the window as if to check the truth of that statement. It was, as a matter of fact, noon. She turned a look back at Mao that said she wasn’t entirely convinced, but he’d spotted cracks in her conviction.

“Please? I need to run for a bit. My legs are itching from sitting still for so long.”

That was the wrong thing to say. “Oh no, not with your injuries. No running until you’re all healed up. That rascal got you good, Mao.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Josei knew Rinrin’s name but had refused to use it even once after finding out what he’d done to Mao. Rinrin’s misdeeds had forever dubbed him names such as rascal, scoundrel, no-good-son-of-a-pig, and other colorful insults. Mao felt it was a bit much at times but secretly appreciated it. Josei’s hostility towards Rinrin made it just a bit easier to get over any remaining feelings he might have held for that dashing red fox.

That and the now known fact that Rinrin was an uncaring eater of human hearts, literally. It kind of killed the mood. Even if a bit of danger and forbidden sins was exciting in its own way… but only in fantasies. In reality that truth had made Mao’s bones freeze with unease.

"Please? I'll take the stairs."

Mao resorted to pleading. As if the many steep stairs of Redlog were any kinder to a walking patchwork of gashes with a rib that ached at the slightest of bends. He was mostly healed. Still tender and a good few weeks from a full recovery, but he was far better now than how he’d been the first few days after the fight.

Josei's face screwed up in uncertain thought, so Mao went on the offensive.

"I'll leave a message for Tobby to find me by the nearest post office then head straight to Joseph's place. It's the most heavily guarded place in Redlog right now. His family sponsors the Watch and they don't know what I am."

"Oh but the Hunters do, Mao. And they're everywhere. You think they suddenly need herbs and tonics from us specifically by chance?"

That made Mao pause. He hadn't considered that. Still, the walls were closing in on him and the magical letter hummed in his hands. Surely he could dodge the Hunters… It was daytime. No darkness to hide in. No… well, it would be down to luck. Mao felt lucky today. That, and the nobles trusted the Watch far more than they did the Hunters.

"Joseph's family aren't too keen on the Hunters right now. They'll have a mess of a time snooping around Noble Road."

While that was a good argument, his mother looked like she was sucking on a lemon.

"Perhaps…"

"I'll bring Tulip."

Mao's last ditch effort required a straight face. He struggled to keep it. Josei herself was starting to crack. The final straw that broke her iron defense came from the sofa.

"Krrrkchsssh…"

Tulip added his own opinion to the lot with a sort of half-hiss-half-croon. The rooster rose slowly, shook his feathers, then hopped down and waddled over to stand next to Mao.

That earned the little traitor a strong glare from Josei.

"Alright fine. But if you so much as jog- Tulip, you bite the rest of my boy's ear off."

Josei pointed a threatening finger at Mao's wrapped up left ear, which the fox immediately slapped a hand over. A poor decision. Mao bit back a wince and Tulip considered deeply if Josei's command had been a jest or an honest free pass to sample some human flesh. Did Mao count as human? Tulip wasn't too sure, but an ear was an ear. This would require some heavy pontification.

Tulip's beady stare had Mao second guessing his trust in the ornery rooster - but freedom came at a heavy price sometimes.

To his mother's bemusement, Mao saluted, gave her a hug, then fled out the door before she could change her mind. Tulip was hot on his heels and announced within the first 20 steps that they were going a bit too fast for his liking. Attempts to pick the lazy bird up resulted in nipped fingers. Reluctantly, Mao set a slow pace up the slope that would take him towards Noble Road. This would be quite the walk…

_

In the time it took for Tobby to get waved down by a fellow mail runner, read the short message requesting his presence at Joseph's fine abode this auspicious evening, and then run over and chat his way past the paranoid personal guard force posted all around house Lejon's property…

Mao had made it about halfways up the road to Peak Street. By now even Tulip was starting to get impatient with the slow going, but Mao was clutching his bandage-covered midriff as if his guts would fall out if he let go. It turned out that wounds like his weren't too keen on long walks up treacherous cobble roads.

Still, he kept going. To return home with his tail between his legs would be to admit that Josei was right and to let her declare that another week in bed was in order before Mao went going anywhere else. That simply wouldn't do. A week could easily turn into several if fueled by a concerned mother and a wanted killer with a grudge still at large, and the end of spring meant that midsummer was coming.

There was plenty of time to recover in time for the celebrations honestly, but as with any source of excitement threatened by an uncertain obstacle, such as a ripped up stomach, Mao felt that time was too short.

If only the road had been so short as well.

Now imagine his surprise when it suddenly ended. At first the haze of pain and the resulting exhaustion merged the wall of approaching boots into one solid mass. The gleam of their armor was akin to the sheen of wet cobblestones just after rain, all grey but worn smooth by years of use.

For the second time in a month, Mao found himself about to be surrounded. It clicked when Mao recognized the thump and clang of synchronized metal steps. What didn't click was the familiar crest of a lion surrounded by roses and two crossed swords.

Joseph had the horrified pleasure of watching - from behind the backs of far too many bodyguards that his family simply wouldn't let him leave the house without - how Mao's tired eyes focused into pinpoint pricks within half a second. How his previously weak movements switched to a snap of motion that sent him dashing side-ways to dodge the incoming troop of admittedly imposing armed guards.

And the way his foot slipped, his balance broke, and the young lad went face first into the cobblestones. Then Tulip attacked his face.

It was a sign of house Lejon's personal guards' professionalism that Tulip didn’t get more than a few nips in before someone grabbed him away from the panicking Mao. If not for the plated gloves the unlucky guard holding the shrieking rooster would have lost a finger.

Or, if you knew Tulip, you'd know that this was a token effort to break free. Josei had proclaimed an ear be the price for running, so what was a loyal rooster to do but to at the very least try.

While this was happening another pair of guards were trying to both help Mao up and keep him from running away, all while a certain courier was laughing himself off his feet next to a highly concerned Joseph.

The gang had gone looking for Mao when he didn't turn up.

Most unexpected among the faces present - aside from the dozen or so bemused guards - was Maridot Lilja, currently trying her damned best to not let slip a guffaw like Tobby. The ginger lad was making no such attempts at sparing Mao’s pride. He found Mao's cat-like skip and crash hilarious.

It took awhile for the chaos to calm down. One reason being the guards insisting on checking on Mao's wounds in case any had opened in the fall - they'd been briefed on the situation. Not an actual professional brief, mind. Tobby had, on the way here, preached Mao's battle wounds as a likely reason he hadn't shown up. Dead in a ditch possibly, especially if it made Joseph faint to imagine it.

Trained to guard, tend injuries in case of accidents, and perhaps most important for a guard of a family with rowdy youngsters - noble or not, the ability to reign them in and make sure no one went tumbling down a kilometer of stairs, these lot would not leave anything half-assed. They would settle for nothing less than a whole-ass. Ahem.

So as the guard unit fuzzed over Mao, eventually the rattled medicine maker's son was back on his feet with fresh bandages. A bit overkill maybe, but rather that than get chewed out by their employers for sparing any care for their ward and his friends. Professionalism.

While this stellar performance of duties well executed had the guard unit standing steel rod straight with pride, Mao felt slightly out of place joining his friends in the middle of their formation. Maridot looked like being surrounded by a personal guard unit was nothing out of the ordinary. Tobby was doing his best to look as at ease as her, and Joseph had the face of someone watching their noisy parent storm into their classroom to declare something embarrassing in front of the whole class.

To say that conversation was stiff on their way back to the Lejon residence would have been an understatement. Partly because the topic at hand was mostly about Mao not noticing a full guard unit until they were at risk of trampling him, then spooking so bad that he ended up on the ground. Tobby had a way with words.

Then there was the fact that Tobby had brought his girlfriend. Was she his girlfriend? She certainly seemed sweet on him in the way she laughed at his jokes, held his hand, and made teasing comments of her own that made the ginger’s face redden like a batch of cherries, much to Mao and Joseph’s amusement.

But she wasn’t in the know about the Wild Ones, which was kind of what Mao had gathered the gang to talk about. Not here with the guards present, naturally, but once they were back at Joseph’s place, had bolted the door to his room, and made themselves comfortable in chairs, on the windowsill for Mao, and on the bed for Joseph. The noble could do with some extra chairs in the future.

The youngsters arrived, made themselves comfortable, then pondered in silence how to address the elephant in the room. Tobby was just about to sit down in a plush armchair by the door when Maridot spoke.

“So, we’re here to talk about that mad fox that’s murdering people, yes?”

Tobby missed the chair and hit the floor with a yelp. Instantly all eyes were on him. While Mao’s glare was equal parts surprise and outrage over Tobby sharing Wild stuff with a regular person, Joseph blurted out a flustered gibberish-sound at the spreading of what was supposed to be secret Watch business. The courier hurried to defend himself but found it a little hard to do so in a dignified way while climbing back up onto the chair from the floor.

“I may have- alright so we talked a bit about the whole killer thing. But she’s cool, guys!”

Mao folded his arms. Tobby continued in his sweetheart’s defense. Maridot herself looked mildly amused at the reactions in the room and was in no rush, unlike Tobby who’s pride was at stake.

“She also knows a bit about Wild stuff.”

“How much?” Mao asked, arms still folded.

This time Maridot was the one to answer.

“House Lilja is in the know, sort of. This killer affects the business of my house, so we’ve been more or less briefed by the Watch.”

Attention slowly shifted over to Joseph. How much did the Watch know? The blond man sweated as his jaw worked to find the right words.

“So you know about…”

“A vicious Wild One taking the form of a fox. He’s killed at least two nobles, a merchant of higher standing and a handful of less important names visiting the city. We’re uncertain of his motive for these killings other than sport.”

Maridot summarized her side’s view of things with a joyless smile and hands folded in her lap. There was a hint of pride to the way she calmly invited herself into this close circle of would-be investigators. But she didn’t know everything. It was enough to impress Joseph though. Tobby shared Maridot’s pride times ten. Mao…

“He does it to get more tails,” …spilled a secret he wasn’t sure was meant to be known by people who weren’t foxes. It felt too personal, but at this point he valued his friends more than any secrets shared by Rinrin.

“He said each tail comes from a milestone in his life. An important kill. His first was a farmer. He’s been after people of higher standing since, to get his 4th tail.”

“You met him?” Maridot’s expression sobered at once. Her carefully neutral smile turned into a frown of suspicion and slight alarm.

“The fox went after me. Mao stopped him and got injured in the process.”

Joseph tried to explain it in a way that didn’t betray the fact that Mao and Rinrin had met several times. Maridot caught this but - at the nudging of Tobby who’d given up on dragging his armchair over to be next to Maridot’s and instead just sat down on the desk next to her - let it slip. For now.

“So he’s looking for high ranking people? Nobles?” she asked instead.

“Most likely.” Mao answered. “It’s about the challenge- I think. And nobles are heavily guarded, especially now.”

“Then he’ll probably strike again on Noble Road.” Joseph concluded.

The blond noble had a hand under his chin and his eyes weren’t focused on anything present within the room, but on his spinning thoughts. They cleared as Maridot spoke, adding an unexpected turn to their theories.

“He’ll likely strike again at midsummer then. If he knows about the guest that is…”

“What?”

Joseph and Mao said the word at the same time, much to Tobby’s muted amusement. It was hard to keep a merry mood with the topic at hand, but the cat did try.

Maridot looked uncertain for a moment… then decided to spill the beans.

“There’s someone from the royal family coming from the capital to celebrate midsummer here this year. It’s a bit of a diplomatic tangle… There’s safety concerns now that we’ve lost two nobles and nearly a third to the same killer, still at large. Thus house Lilja’s interest in the case.”

What? That was news to everyone but Tobby. Mao was instantly filled with curiosity, but before he could voice it Joseph blustered out;

“Are you sure? Why doesn’t the Watch know about this?”

Maridot gave him a deadpan stare.

“They do. House Lejon does not. You sponsor the Watch, you don’t run it.”

Joseph’s face colored, but to his credit the nobleman rallied quickly. He cleared his throat, sat up a bit straighter on his bed and gathered his hands into a relaxed clasp on his lap.

Any other time this might have amused Mao, seeing Joseph maintain his noble image of proud control and cool - but it was another thing entirely to see it in opposition to another noble’s calm air of muted arrogance. He could see why Tobby liked Maridot.

“Then this is highly confidential information. We can’t assume that the killer has gotten word of this.” Joseph stated.

Maridot countered at once, “We can’t assume that he doesn’t know, or we might lose the favor of the royal line, if not the life of their representative himself.”

“True true…”

Joseph let out a frustrated hum. Not at Maridot herself, but rather at her words.

Knowing Rinrin’s next target might help, but it also complicated things if the assumption was wrong. If they were in the wrong place when Rinrin struck next… Tobby went down that trail of thought a bit quicker than the rest of the group, and spoke just as Mao came to the same conclusion himself.

“Everyone important will be at the festival grounds regardless. Chances are high that he’ll strike there even if he doesn’t know about the royal.”

“We should tell the Hunters’ Guild.”

That came from Mao, which surprised Joseph and Tobby. Maridot’s face stayed blank since she lacked context.

“You still trust those guys? They’re after you as much as the killer.”

Joseph was at once against the idea, but Tobby took better to it.

“Wild Ones are their business still. They also saved us way back when Bok tried to pawn us off to the elves. This makes us even with them I’d say.”

“This isn’t the time for jokes.” Joseph bit back. Tobby raised his hands.

“I’m serious. As nasty as they can get, the Hunters know their stuff. I’ll hand them a letter about this so Mao won’t get near them.”

Tobby’s words surprised Mao. He himself was cloven on the Hunters right now.

On one hand they’d been his childhood heroes for years- and on the other was the way they’d hunted him down, the pressure they put on his and Josei’s shop - or tried to rather since Josei made their visits as miserable as possible when it got clear that they were after Mao.

He was wary of them. Afraid even, although he’d never admit to that out loud. Mostly because he hoped that fear would pass so his heroes could redeem themselves. It was starting to look more and more like a bleak hope.

While Mao wrestled with his own opinion of the Hunters, the others formed a plan.

“I’ll drop the letter then dash off. I’m pretty sure I can outrun them if I get the drop on them in the city. As long as they don’t have horses I’ll be faster.” Tobby thumped his chest with a fist.

“You underestimate the Guild, Tobby. What if they grab you?” Joseph wasn’t entirely sold but the cat sounded confident.

“My family will chew them a new one. We might not be nobles like you fancy lot,” The ginger gave Maridot a cheeky wink, which she snorted at. “But the Havre family has their own weight to throw about when we need to. I’ll be fine.”

Mao didn’t doubt it after seeing Katja and Josei both team up on that poor Hunter trying to buy herbs at their shop some time ago.

Yet there were a lot of concerns left over this plan to focus on the midsummer celebrations. It could be the wrong time, or the wrong place. The Hunters could decide to betray them rather than cooperate, or the Watch might stumble on something new.

Despite all this it was their best bet.

They had 3 weeks before the kill if they were right. 3 weeks to prepare for a killer bold enough to strike at the biggest yearly gathering in Redlog.