Vulpine Summer

The Fox dropped lightly from the wall, landing softly amongst the well kept vibrant flowers and its recently watered earth. He quickly shuffled into the bush and gazed with sharp green eyes at the back of the massive house bathed in moonlight and the night's heat.

It was four stories high with a small tower built onto its side. Thirty-nine rooms were inside, all filled with expensive possessions and equally expensive protective measures. He knew what he had to do. He'd gone over the file given to him by the Doe and he'd observed from trees and distance that afternoon. Normally he'd take a couple of days to scout everything out and prepare but he wanted to impress the Doe. He wanted her to trust him and deem him worthy of the title Fox. But he wasn't going to rush this night. Patience was going to ensure he'd succeed when he went in blind.

His focus was on the lower floors. If the blue-prints were correct, there should be a large two story room filled with antiques that were on display. Two guards would patrol that particular room and one was at the door. Either he could go in from above and drop into the shadows and work his magic in convincing the guards to sleep or go in from below. Above meant he'd need to climb up to the balcony, make his way through the central level of the house which was patrolled heavily. Or he'd go in from the basement which would have bare minimum in guards and one dog. While he hated dogs, the basement seemed the most logical option. The basement door would spit him out not far from where he needed to be.

Fox made sure his face-mask was secure. It was made of tough leather and hooked about his ears, covering his face, and adorned with a fox symbol. The mask he used to wear was just smeared with the grey number 501, his old code, but now a beautiful curve of a red fox adorned him. It made him proud to wear the mask of his father.

He checked his other pockets of his black suit, the uniform of the Fingers filled with pockets to carry information and tools and made of knife-proof fabric. This thing had saved his life a couple of times in close calls.

Happy he was prepared, Fox pulled down the goggles over his eyes. Instantly everything grew a little brighter. He didn't know how these things worked, he'd never heard anything like it before, but the Fingers had their way of obtaining strange tech from overseas or making their own. He had a feeling Wizards were behind this new creation, much like the strange gloves he wore. They were sturdy leather of black and brown with a single glass dial on the back with three coloured settings; white, blue and black. White could send people to sleep, blue creates an electric current and the black makes it harder to be seen in darkness. He'd only been given the weird device since he gained his codename and he'd already found his job easier. It made sense how the top-dog Obtainers could vanish without a trace. He still preferred his blow-dart to knock-out unwanted eyes though. The gloves were easy to wear out or break and he had to get a little too close for comfort for the glove to be used.

Fox flinched as a tall burly man sauntered by his hiding spot, hunkering down and keeping incredibly still. The guard swung his torch about, whistling happily. As something snuffled and moved behind the guard, Fox stiffened and paled. A dog. A huge thing with big teeth and a mean face. He sunk lower, praying the spray he'd cover himself in would keep the dog from sniffing him out. He didn't breathe again until the guard and his dog had moved some distance away and vanished behind the side of the house.

It was now or never.

Double checking the guard watching the large back doors was still smoking beneath the balcony and not paying attention, Fox made his move. Activating the glove on the black setting, Fox moved swiftly in the dark night through the shaved damp grass. Fox made the narrow gap between the wall's border and the house in a few heartbeats and settled into the shadows, making sure the smoker was still unaware. By how his bored statue hadn't changed, he wasn't. Fox breathed in relief, thankful the back garden, while impressive, was far smaller than the huge front lawn of the mansion and filled with trees, fountains, small stone walls and topiaries to hide behind. Traversing it was easy and made easier with the glove's odd invisibility ability.

Fox slipped along the shrubbery that was pressed against the house's walls, keeping amongst the leaves as best as he could as he sought out the basement steps. Before long, he found them; a thick set of steps leading below the house's ground floor and towards a locked wooden door.

With the guard and his dog still patrolling, Fox waited again. He didn't want to be caught in the act of picking the lock. A few minutes passed and he pressed himself against the wall, hoping no one would peek out the window above him, as the guard passed again with his dog calmly trailing him like a shadow. Fox waited patiently, growing pleased when the smoker called out and the pair began to talk, their voices rumbling in the still night air. He had more time now.

Fox dropped down into the alcove of the undercroft door, snuggled up closed and checked the type of lock, and set to work in no time. Whipping out a thin wallet from his pocket, Fox picked out two long picks from the assortments of combs, safe picks, pick wires, door picks, tension tools and various key shapes; all to unlock a variety of safes, cabinets, desks, doors and the occasional car. He shook his head to focus when he momentarily recalled the long lessons his father gave him as child, teaching him how each pick and lock worked.

Fox listened vaguely to the voices of the guards as he worked, noting the moment they went quiet and his time began ticking. Thankfully he was a quick worker with the modern locks, it was the older ones he struggled with sometimes, and the door clicked open. But it was not safe yet. Alarm systems were popping up everywhere these days and his notes told him every door leading to the outside was connected to a particular closed-curcuit bell model, one that would activate with a spring mechanism and electric current cut off the moment the door opened, setting it off to clang its bell and call in the bobbies or security company it was connected to. This is why the glove was so handy. Before he'd had to faff about with magnets, plastic and clippers to get through which ate away at time rapidly. Now he could either keep the current flowing or blow the battery it was connected it entirely.

Switching it to the electrical option, he began to try find the wiring about the door, all the while keeping an eye out for trouble. The moment he saw the small fire poking out, he smiled. As soon as he touched it, he activated the glove. A powerful surge of electricity tore through the wiring until it reached the battery, keeping the power flowing. With the alarm now deactivated for a brief time, Fox opened the door, careful to keep the electricity-pumping glove close to the break connection. Fox slipped inside and closed it firmly in place, plunging himself into total darkness. The moment he removed his hand, the alarm was back on again.

Fox took a moment to breathe and pull out the blue-prints. The goggles around his ahead enabled to him to see what was just in front of him but not at a great distance. Trying to predict where he needed to go would help manoeuvring in the house.

He traced his black gloved fingers along the scribbled halls, noting he needed to move down the west side of the house, through the massive wine storage, and pass a couple of guard rooms. Where he was currently was the gardening shed and usually left empty but, just down the corridor, a guard would be sitting, half-heartedly listening out for trouble. The light peeking beneath one of the doors told him he was correct; the guard was beyond there. Fox was glad he didn't have to worry about that one as there was a path through the darkened door on his right. The fewer people he'd knock out, the better.

Fox tucked the map away and began to walk silently forward, pressing his feet against stone in shoes specifically made for silence. Padding up along the wall, trying his best not to jangle the dangling gardening tools or kick the buckets and flowerpots on the floor, he fumbled his way to door he needed to go into.

He jiggled the door handle and slipped into the wine cellar when the door gave way, closing it as quietly as possible behind himself and hunkered down. He gazed at the rows of numbered racks of bottles and the meticulously organised large barrels. The room was long, too deep for him to see the end, and stank of dank must, damp wood and alcohol. He knew a patrol would come through here. If the numbers on the racks were years, these bottles were expensive and needed to be checked periodically. But Fox wasn't just a standard thief. He was an Obtainer. His target was the only thing he was going to take from this house, nothing else.

Fox listened to the house, paying attention to the creaking of wood, the clicking of the central heating, the buzzing of electrics and the soft, distant voice of the guards. There was no immediate threat among the sounds. Briefly checking the direction he needed to head in again, Fox began to inch his way towards the western door. Beyond that there should be a corridor connected to the kitchen and a series of stairs leading into the dining room. From the dining room, he'd go through the billiards room and then he'd meet the doors to the antique showroom. A room protected by both men and an alarm bell on every door; his target.

Fox pressed his ear against the door, listening intently for any kind of movement or voices beyond. Muffled silence met him so he cautiously pushed the door open and peaked inside. Light met him and turned the glass of the goggles into a vibrant shades of green and white, forcing him to turn them off when his eyes hurt at the brightness. As he blinked rapidly, trying to bring some focus back while cursing the weird contraption, his ears picked up the distinct sounds of heavy boots hitting against the wooden floor.

Fox flinched and pulled himself away from the door, keeping it ajar as he waited for the guard to march by. The tell-tale clicking of claws and heavy snuffling indicated a dog was beside this guard, making Fox tense up and wait nervously with bated breath. He could see its massive bulk and muscles beneath its dusty fur, its shining fangs beneath black lips. Teeth that could rip out his throat. Fox slunk away further behind the crack, ensuring the dog wouldn't see him.

The man was slow, agonisingly slow. He sauntered languidly by, checking either side of the kitchen then lighting a cigar as he continued to on his way. The dog stayed close to him and, thankfully, didn't seem to notice Fox's presence. He relaxed and waited a few moments before he pushed open the door and slipped inside.

Briefly glancing about the bright room for any threats then focused on the set of crooked steps cutting the massive, modern kitchen with it fancy electric oven and fridge away from the scullery room. Fox wasted no time and made his way upwards with swift, soft bounds, and quickly tested the door. It was locked, although not for long.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Fox finally pulled himself out of the undercroft and into a small narrow room filled with shelves and cabinets of tablecloths and serving utensils and no bright lights. Safety.

Fox took the moment to breathe and check his position, ensuring he was still on track and not lost. Just beyond was the dining room. Not far now. Fox tucked away the map once again, switched on his goggles and checked the door. It was unlocked and it appeared to be quiet in the next room. He had to be careful though. The map told him to expect a couple of patrols in here. No dogs though thankfully.

Turning on his gloved hand to make sure the shadows kept him invisible, Fox entered the dining room with cautious movements and inhaled the sweet scented air. He kept himself low and glanced about, noting how everything was horribly expensive. The turntable, the carefully chiselled table and matching chairs, the chandelier, the paintings, the harp. It was a goldmine in this room alone. But his oath kept him from nicking a single candle-holder or swipe a few ornate plates from the cabinets. Barely.

He kept to the edge of the room as he made his way for the opposite door, the entryway to the billiards room. He didn't understand why rich folk needed so many rooms. Billiards, dining, lounges, studies, parlours, foyers, lofts, various bedrooms, guest suites, undercofts and drawing, music and tea rooms. It was all just needless space to keep clean and filled. At least this place wasn't the biggest place he'd been to and not on the 'great house' scale with their servants quarters, ballrooms, libraries and long galleries. He'd stolen from one of those houses before and become lost briefly inside its maze of walls, even with a map.

Just as he reached the door with his fingers brushing against the handle, the door shuddered and the doorknob twisted on its own. Alarmed, Fox moved backwards with the door, ensuring he didn't give its movement pause. His hand had already switch the dial on his glove so, when the guard turned to close the door and saw Fox standing their, black suited and face half covered and goggled, he barely had time to cry out in alarm. Fox was on him, his hand gripping the guard's grey bearded mouth, and activating the spell. In a few heartbeats, the middle-aged guard's watery eyes rolled up into the back of skull and he collapsed heavily onto the floor.

Fox let his breath out in one big relaxed gush before he reached down to check on the unconscious man. He breathed heavily as he slept deeply. Good. Life wasn't something Obtainers took. That was a Contractor's job.

Carefully, Fox reached round to grip the man's torso, grunting in discomfort at the weight of the man.

'Need to lose some that gut, 'guv.' Fox muttered in a strained tone.

With effort, Fox dragged the fat guard all the way back to the way he'd come, shutting the man away in the dark, small room. He ruffled his red hair with disappointment. He knew he needed to begin knocking them out at some point but, with a guard down, it meant he was now on a timer. This fat man had a route. Others would notice him gone and come to find him and this door would only keep him hidden for so long.

'Time to get a move on.'

Turning the dial again to keep him melded with the darkness, Fox hurried to the door he'd first attempted to pass through. This time he was successful and entered the billiards room. Briefly despairing over how much rubbish the rich needed, like pool tables, stupidly expensive sofas and small bar counters, Fox remained quiet and still. Ahead of him was a guard, smoking a pipe by the door to the small gallery. This is where things were going to become tough. He had to take out everyone within the room to safely work, that meant increasing the chance of someone noticing that a thief was at work.

Fox began his next move. He pulled out his trusted blow-dart, loaded it and aimed. With a certain huff, the dart soared and hit its mark. The guard jumped in surprise, fumbled about his neck, pulled out the dart and stared at it for a second before collapsing. Fox scurried forward, checking for a pulse then dragged him away from the door, glad this one was about half the weight of the last.

The door that had been guarded was locked and had an alarm, much like the door opening into the house. Fox checked the info again, aware some places had a mix of closed and open circuits, and was pleased when the notes told him it was a closed one again. Those were easier. It was riskier trying to blow the battery before the bell rang.

He worked on the lock quickly, jiggling the picks as he listened with his heart in his mouth and full aware time was slipping by. As soon as the door clicked, Fox repeated his hunt for the wire and kept his active glove close by as he opened the door. The moment he was in, he had only a few seconds to react.

He knew a guard was going to be positioned by the door so he wasn't surprised by the surprised grunt and 'Oi!' cry. He also knew a guard was going to be further in the small gallery room who was now turning in curiosity, pleased to have break from his mundane watch. Fox had to act quickly and he had little choice but to use the electrical current he currently wielded, causing the air about his hands to crackle with static. Keeping one had firmly near the broken circuit of the bell to keep it live, he slammed his free hand against the chest of the guard next to him, stunning the poor man's body. The guard shook violently before he dropped to the ground, twitching and grunting but alive. The other guard was becoming more of a threat however. His eyes were widened, watching in surprise at Fox's entrance and his colleague's quick dispatch. As Fox closed the door, the guard was turning to go for help. Fox lunged across the room, moving swiftly and silently with his gloves dialled on the white option. The man barely let out a yelp by the time Fox was on him, both gloves firmly on his face and rapidly sending him to sleep.

Fox sighed and his shoulders sagged. He could've planned that better. Going in blind without much prep work was a little stupid of him but he was managing. Just about.

He turned about the gallery room, noticing his surroundings properly for the first time. It was lined in paintings, ancient tomes locked away behind thick glass, precious antiques and bejeweled items. Everything in here was expensive and, by how his glove crackled, each cabinet, each lock and each sheet of glass was alarmed. Luckily he only needed one of these items.

Fox quickly went the centre of the room where a large table protected by an alarmed wall of glass stood. His gaze swept over the contents and he quickly settled on what he sought. The Eye of Autumn. It was as the Doe described; the size of a golf ball, gold based and covered in all kind of precious stones.

Fox rubbed his hands eagerly at the task. 'Time to get to work.'

He got onto to his hands and feet, checking for the live currents. Wires were carefully organised and secured beneath the table and slipped off down its legs and into the woodwork below. He frowned in dread, double checking the info. No where said the alarm system was going to have its heart in the undercroft! He grumbled, inwardly kicking himself for jumping into this so quickly and not checking out everything for himself first. Now he had to keep the whole network alive instead of getting to the alarm bell and carefully dismantling it. One missing current and the alarm would be set off.

With careful fingers and very, very aware he was running out of time, Fox began to try to figure out which current would be cut off the moment he'd lift the glass door of the Eye's snug compartment. It took longer than he'd like and, while his glove worked to keep the one wire he felt was the culprit, he began input the combination of the numbered padlock that had been scribbled on the blue-prints, spinning the dials with a single hand.

The moment it clicked, Fox stilled. His hand remained hovering over his chosen wire, trying to keep anything near it electrified. Very slowly he unhooked the hatch and pushed open the Eye's glass case with his heart in his mouth.

In an instant the bells began to alarm, shrilly filling the silent night air, and there was a tell-tale electrical charge of a tesla-wall erecting around the doors and windows. Fox's shoulders sagged for a second, unsurprised but annoyed, before he smacked his hand against the wires.

'Work you blasted thing!' He hissed and summoned as much power he could from the glove.

The wires hissed and cracked as the flood of electricity surged down their bodies, burning and frying anything it could. After few loud seconds of the bells hammering and crying, making his ears hum painfully, something exploded below. He heard the powerful burst of flames and clatter of metal, then silence as the network died.

Fox quickly snatched up the Eye as he tried to ignore the painful ringing in his head, pocketing it in the velvet case then trying it around his neck. By the growing shouts and the thudding of footsteps from above and below, Fox calculated he had less than a minute to get out.

He hurried to the window between two deep oak and glass cabinets, waving his hand over the glass and scowled when static shimmered. The tesla-wall was still up. It had a separate network to the alarm. Fox didn't have time to find the wires and cut them and, by how frail the electricity sparking about his hand was, he guessed he didn't have enough power left in it to surge it anyway. Sucking out the power of the wall wasn't an option either. It would take too long and could ruin the glove itself by how much electricity a wall could pack.

With little other options, Fox dove to the nearest door and activated the stealth ability. He hunkered down in a corner, making sure he was deep in shadows, and waited. The shouts he'd heard echoing in alarm were now outside, rumbling with rage and disbelief. Fox remained perfectly still, even when the tesla-wall powered down on one of the doors and clicked open.

'Gods, two are down in 'ere too!' A bulky guard shouted, hurrying forward to check on his sleeping colleagues. 'Get in 'ere and find him!'

Three men followed after him with a dog close behind, its nose stuck to the floor as it snuffled deeply. Fox shivered but remained where he was, hoping the dog didn't sniff him out. While there was no wind, the dog was close enough to detect him beneath the covering scent.

The guards flicked out their torches and began to shuffle deeper into the large room, moving between the display tables and cabinets. The dog didn't appear to notice Fox as it shuffled further away, snuffling the floor.

As the guards called out, demanding Fox to show himself and declaring the Eye had been stolen, Fox slowly slipped towards the door where the burly guard stood. Fox had to get by quietly and with zero attention. It was going to be tough. The gloves could only use one setting at a time, which meant he'd be vulnerable.

He shuffled forward, keeping to the shadow and hoping the guard's sweeping torch didn't catch him. The moment the guard wasn't facing him and his colleagues were deeper in the room and distracted, Fox struck. Turning the dial, Fox arrested the guard's hand, sending a desire to sleep over him in less than a second. Fox grappled with the falling guard, trying to make sure the massive man didn't make too much noise. While the guards didn't appear to hear, the blasted dog did.

It whipped around, snout in the air, then a snarl came over its features, ripping open its mouth to reveal its teeth. Fox, trying to keep down his fright, quickly shadowed himself and fled. The dog, while unable to see him, was still certain he was there and began to howl and bark savagely. The sound made Fox's skin crawl as he kept imagining its awful teeth and the damage it could do to his vulnerable flesh.

Fox wasted no time. He fled across the dining room and back into the small room leading down to the undercroft. Back in shadows and with a thick door between himself and teeth, Fox relaxed a little. He stepped carefully over the snoring fat guard and yanked open the door and letting a waft of damp, stale air brush his face. He glanced back at the dining room door, very aware the barking beast was howling just beyond it, listening to his every step and alerting his handlers to Fox's presence.

Fox slipped down the steps, moving swiftly and quietly into the kitchen. Instead of diving across to the winery to bury himself amongst the barrels and wine racks, Fox shuffled towards the scullery and hid himself between the washing machine and cold, brick wall. Just as he settled, the dog was at the bottom of the stairs, barking and snapping its angry teeth. His handlers were encouraging him to hunt. Thankfully the dog couldn't figure out where Fox had gone. With no sound and no scent to go by, the dog returned to snuffling the floor.

'Go that way. I'll go the other.'

The guards split up. The dog went left. Fox was going right.

Fox couldn't exactly keep to the shadows when the bare light-bulbs shone like suns on the ceiling, so he hurried across the space, keeping behind cabinets and wooden boxes as he slipped through the scullery room to the kitchen all the while listening out intently for any approaching guards. He did want to go into the winery but its light was on and the room was large. It was best to stick with the narrow halls.

He moved along the hallway, trying to remember the way out. He needed to turn left into the small guard post, not right. Right led down towards the pantry and electrics. So he followed the path slowly, listening and no longer shielded by his shadowing ability. With the lights on everywhere, it wouldn't be helpful anymore so he kept his sleep option active.

He passed a door leading to the boiler room and a table covered in cards, empty bottles and stubbed out cigars. Smoke mixed with the musty stink in the air. But no one was present. The guards were scattered and no longer at their usual posts. That was both helpful and unhelpful for Fox.

Fox reached the door to the gardening room and, just as he reached for the handle, the door swung open sharply. A lanky guard, slow minded by the looks of him, stared at Fox and his goggles and half covered face.

Just as the guard's brown eyes widened and his thin lips parted to yell out, Fox's hand snaked out and arrested his mouth, sending the shocked guard to sleep. Fox gazed down at the collapsed youth, quietly berating himself. He was going to lose points for this whole mess. Obtainers were silent, sneaking in without being seen or noticed. He had both been seen and noticed. The Doe wasn't going to be pleased.

The Fox strode over the crumpled guard and slipped out a small knife. Instead of faffing about with the alarm, he sought out the alarm bell, finding the thing tucked behind a box seeds. He took out of the battery, a small cylinder containing sloshing yellow liquid, and cut the wire. Un-tampered alarms were useful in keeping guards unaware of his presence but that was kind of pointless now.

He left quickly, closing the door firmly behind himself, and pulled himself into the border above the undercroft. Nestled amongst the plants, Fox took a moment to figure out how on earth he was going to get out of the grounds. He'd try to go the way he'd come but with the guards scattered that was going to be difficult. He could see guards out in the garden with their torches shining and glittering like stars, shouting at one another with their hounds sniffing intently. Out in the distance he could hear the screeching wails of sirens growing louder and increasingly obnoxious. The police were coming.

'Should've planned.' Fox hissed to himself, annoyed at how wrong this task had gone.

Shadowing himself, Fox made his way along the border, pressing his side to the house's side. His focus remained on the tree he'd climbed down. He'd get up and over the ten foot wall that way. As soon as he was over, he'd get his clothes changed and march back into town without incident. Everything would be smooth sailing.

Once he managed to across the lawn to the wall, Fox began his climb, very aware of how close the police were now. By the time he reached the top of the wall, tires screeched by the house and new voices joined the guards' shouts. Fox spied the tell-tale white and blue oil-cars and the uniformed police who stood with so much importance they looked like a stick of iron was stuck up their arses. The fat bathrobed man talking so haughtily to them he assumed was Hendrick Walliam. He didn't look very happy.

Not wanting to hang around much longer, Fox slipped over the wall and hurriedly clambered down the well placed tree on the other-side.

The moment his boots landed amongst the wild grass, Fox sighed heavily, sucking in the flower and dew scented air. Freedom and a job done, although most certainly not well.

'Hopefully she won't get too mad.' Fox muttered, shuddering at the thought of the Doe being angry. She was terrifying when cross.

Fox hurried away, moving towards the sound of the rushing water. The River Oak was not far and a large willow tree was currently caretaker of his clothes. He pushed through the long grass that brushed its dew over his legs, ducked under low hanging branches and yanked himself free from clawing twigs and shrubs. Soon he found the tree he sought, a massive old oak that spread its leafy tendrils across the rushing river.

Fox was careful along the low soft banks, making sure he had a secure footing. No one would want to fall into this river. Water bubbled over the smooth rocks that broke its surface and dragged twigs and leaves along its course. It was always an angry river and not even the grasp of winter could slow it so Fox was cautious in reaching the bag he tucked away in the lower roots of the willow tree.

Just as he reached for his bag, Fox paused. Pushed on the shore and tangled amongst roots and rock beside his bag was a book. A strange leather book. Fox tilted his head curiously and, as soon as his own bag was safe on his back, he picked it up. Clambering up the bank and standing beside the willow's wide girth, Fox peered at the book curiously. It had no name and no title and, oddly, didn't appear wet either. It was perfectly dry. Odder still was when he tried to open it. It remained fast, like iron, and refused to budge. For a moment Fox thought it was a carving of some kind but when he touched the paper and leather, they felt like the should. This was a book.

Curious, Fox placed the book in his bag. The Doe might know what it is. Something magic most like. Wizards make all kinds of weird things nowadays and she might be able to make some extra money off of it and make up for his mistakes tonight.

Wasting no more time, Fox began to undress. He pulled his goggles free and placed them back in their leather case, wrenched off his mask and pulled off his uniform one piece at a time. Just as he stood naked, save his underwear, Fox froze. He suddenly felt something watching him curiously, fixated on him with a firm gaze. When he glanced about he saw nothing until he noticed movement in the water.

Half a head was popping out. Yellow eyes stared at him, unblinking as their body remained still and firm, unfeeling of the river's current. Their skin was sea green and covered in a variety of pink scales and patterned prettily of their bald head. Fox suddenly felt very nervous. It was the Oak River's Spirit. A powerful creature and one that protected its territory jealously.

'Evenin', Ms River Oak Spirit.' He smiled weakly, unsure of how to react. He'd spoken to Sprites before, which are friendly and annoying things, but Spirits were something else.

The River Oak Spirit simply stared then raised itself out of the water, revealing an hour glass shape that curled into a plump fish tale, tiny shoulders and ample breasts. Clinging to her shining wet skin were several river sprites, laughing and giggling joyously; some screeching with excitement as they fell back into the rushing water. But Fox was curious about what she cradled guardedly. It seemed red and furry, which was odd. He'd never heard of the River Spirit carrying anything.

He tried to ignore what the River Spirit was doing as it was nothing to do with him and focused on dressing himself, however he couldn't help but watch in the corner of his eye. The Spirit curled out of the river in a funnel of water and placed what it cradled with care amongst the long grass and beyond the river's reach. Fox peered and raised his eyebrows.

It was a fox.

The creature was curled into a ball, shaking and seemingly unconscious. The River Spirit touched the fox's wet fur with care before suddenly drew its body close, as if protecting the fox from something. It hissed angrily and stared further up river. Fox followed its gaze and could vaguely see the Ivory Tower's shape through the trees in the far distance. Was it angry at the Tower?

'Well, Ms River Oak Spirit mam, it was nice to see you but I've got to get home. So goodbye.' Fox said awkwardly as he pulled his hat over his fluffy hair and made sure his sleeves covered his gloves.

The Spirit's eyes flickered to him only briefly. It didn't seem very concerned about him. Happy he was polite enough to not be drowned, Fox turned sharply to leave, only to jump when something took over his entire view. It was best described as a large glowing white balloon with tiny feet and a weird twizzled shape sticking out of its head. Large pale blue eyes stared at him and the sprite whistled.

'Good evenin' to you too.' Fox said and tried to make his way back home, only the sprite attached itself to his bag and began to pull at it. 'No, nothin' in there for you!'

Fox managed to detach the sprite with some effort and pushed it away. It tumbled through the air slowly, whistling sadly as it span, but Fox ignored it. He had to get away now and didn't have time to play about sprites. The police would begin checking outside the Walliam property for clues soon.

So Fox marched off through the warm summer woods, leaving behind Absolon floating through the air and the fox that was guarded by the River Spirit, taking not only the Obtained Eye but Esme Dupont's precious and desperately needed Grimoire with him.