“So is it him?” Drake asked, pulling himself into the maintenance shaft and crawling along the attic floor. There was some fluffy white insulation and the bare ceiling boards; it hadn’t even been finished for storage.

“I thought we said no chatter on the comms,” Trace drawled through the earpiece. “You’re in the middle of a mission.”

“Oh please, like that’s ever been a reason to keep the chatter back. I know what I’m doing.”

“That isn’t reassuring,” Trace responded.

Drake stuck his tongue out, though the effect was partly lost since Trace couldn’t see him. It only took a moment more to army crawl to the right spot, just above the kitchens. “So is it?”

A sigh came over the earpiece, and Drake grinned. “You know I’ll keep asking if you don’t talk to me. And the more I chat the greater the risk I’ll be caught.”

“You just want to hear the latest gossip,” Trace growled. “It’s practically blackmail.”

“Is it working?”

The answer was more bark than bite. “We still don’t know, but there is something off with their dynamic. Four weeks have started showing larger differences between the three of them, and patterns are developing. Blackie - am I really calling him that?”

Drake shifted more of the insulation away so he could see the thin ceiling panels below. The white fluff was like a cloud, and he had to get all of it clear and far enough it wouldn’t fall into the room when he lifted the rectangular tile. “I got to see him all cute and cuddly, so I got to name him. So yes. Try giving him a pillow and a bed and see what he does. It’s adorable. Besides, the twins already said it to his face.”

“I didn’t think you liked foxes. Or the twins.”

“Awake he’s probably a bastard still, just like the one we’re chasing, but asleep? I can deal with that kind of fox.” He wouldn’t be able to talk much longer; once the ceiling panel was lifted he would have a limited amount of time to move.

“Fine. Blackie doesn’t come into the village very often. He seems to come in when both the others need to rest, or if the rookies are playing a prank.”

“Doesn’t bode well for how the Idiot and the Leech think of him,” came a new voice, Toc or Tic. Over the comms it was more difficult than usual to tell them apart.

“We’re almost ready to start the diversion. Are you clear?” the other twin asked.

“Give me about two minutes to finish clearing a space,” Drake said. “Trace, keep talking.” Idle chatter might seem like a distraction, but it kept the channel open and anyone listening in would think it was just a normal radio call. No one would connect chatter over a mystery fox to their current mission.

“The Idiot appears most often. He craves attention, and seems to want to be scented by the team. If his smell didn’t sour so much when we came near, I’d almost believe it too. And the Leech thrives at weapon practice. Based on the other two I think either he’s the only one weapons-trained or they’re supposed to be keeping their skills low-key and he can’t adjust. The second reason has some potential. I’ve been reviewing footage of Blackie with staff weapons and he always manages to avoid any truly painful blows. More specifically, anything that would leave a mark.”

“Twins, go,” Drake whispered briefly. Trace continued on while sounds of laughter ringing through the halls turned to a wail. The twins had been playing with the servants, acting like kids, and now one of them was screaming for all he was worth. Likely pretending to have broken or twisted an ankle or wrist. Thankfully both twins had turned off their mikes.

“The three instructors report that all three are quiet in theory lessons. The Idiot because he sleeps through them, the Leech because he’s not paying attention to the lesson. Blackie seems to pay attention, but doesn’t participate. The grades on all three are the same. The first two seem to get questions right or wrong based on their actual level. Blackie consistently gets every third question wrong.”

Drake lifted the tile just a crack. Enough time had passed for the staff to exit the kitchen to examine the fallen children, but it was better to check than assume. A quick look confirmed the room was empty, and he lowered himself to the floor.

Of the dishes currently cooking, either the chicken or the soup would be the easiest to poison. The chicken had been rolled in spices that would mask any flavor, but it would be harder to ensure the entire plate was tainted. The soup was still cooking, and too long in the heat with too many other ingredients might compromise the integrity of the mixture.

Making a quick decision, Drake pulled out the vial and poured it into the soup, then turned the heat down slightly. He stirred it, then went back to his hole. Using a chair he climbed back up into the ceiling and put the tile back in place. Quietly and smoothly, he started putting the insulation back.

“Based on their actions so far, I believe the three of them are searching for something,” Trace was saying. Drake had lost track of the conversation somewhere, but he would get the information again later. If nothing else, the twins would beg for it. “If they were a single fox the search would seem directionless, but looking at them as three separate foxes I think they are searching at their strong suits.

“The Idiot is probing through gossip and trying to find a contact who knows something. I believe he is searching for a weapon we might have.

“The Leech actually searches, using idle time to seek weapon stores and stashes. Again, focused on weapons.

“Blackie is a loner, and his search centers around research. Libraries and stories. While the other two also touch on these methods, Blackie takes it on the most often. He might also be looking for a weapon, but his focus seems to be towards history instead. It’s not clear if this is the same as the other two.”

The insulation back in place, Drake was quick to make his retreat. He’d made sure the twins were immune to the poison he’d used; they would stay and eat with the family as planned. When the rest of the family started dying they would cry and kick up a fuss until the guards investigated. They would be cleared and shuffled to an orphanage where Slick would pick them up as a relative who had been searching for them for weeks. It was all according to plan.

Drake had a bad feeling in his gut about it.

“Can we pull the twins out early?” he asked.

“Early? Were we compromised?” That was the captain.

“There weren’t any signs of it, but there’s a bad smell in the air,” Drake said as he fled the scene. He had to get clear so no one would know he was there; poison and ninja were basically the same thing.

“Lydia, be prepared to move in if needed. Slick, you’ll approach the guards. Don’t wait for the orphanage move. We’ll still wait for the poison to take effect, as planned. Let’s be on high alert. Drake - head straight back and prepare the medical suite. Trace, make sure that bad smell wasn’t something at home. Try and make sure all three foxes are accounted for. Tic, Toc, if your earpieces are still on, activate your mics as soon as possible. What was poisoned?”

“The soup,” Drake said, his hackles raised as he raced through the forest. “Don’t think that was the problem, though. I made sure it wouldn’t hurt those two. They may be brats, but I wouldn’t do that to them.”

“Either way, let’s not take chances. Small amounts of the soup, if any, twins. Taste and say the injury has made you queasy. They may send you to bed.”

Drake bit his lip and stopped at the base where Trace and the captain had set up the communication relay. The captain raised an eyebrow at him, and Drake just shrugged. He couldn’t explain it, but something was itching at him. Something off. He wasn’t sure if it was the mission or if something Trace had said clicked wrong in his mind. No one else seemed put off by Trace’s accounting, though.

They were two days from the village on foot, so Drake stripped and switched to his fur. The captain nodded, packed up Drake’s gear in the wagon they were using as cover, and gave him a small scratch behind one shoulder. Drake leaned into it before taking off for the village. If he traveled in his fur and didn’t sleep, he might be able to cut the travel time in half. And he still had his earpiece on so he could hear how the mission went.

It didn’t stop the twisting in his gut saying something was off.