“How do you decide where to set up your doors?” Marian asked.

She was sitting at her usual place at the front desk at the Adventurers Guild, wearing her half-moon glasses with the chain and old-fashioned poofy high-necked dress. She was slowly filling out a job request form. The question was directed to Bryopsida, a goblin wearing an expensive-looking double-breasted suit in a soft blue that looked quite nice with the green of his skin. He was sitting on top of the desk, facing away from Marian and kicking his feet idly.

“Oh, that’s an interesting art,” he said. “You have to consider the different types of humans you’re going to face. You see, most humans aren’t much trouble. They aren’t going to just go wandering through some random door, even if they’re sure it wasn’t there before. As long as you don’t put it right next to a door they actually will use they won’t be a problem. Children are a bit trickier, since they aren’t afraid to open a mysterious door just to see what’s behind it. If they’re going to be around, I hang up a sign that says ‘Crockworth Farthing, DDS,’ and that’ll usually chase them off. Then you’ve got your urban explorer types. Those who do go wandering through doors just for the fun of it. They can be trouble if you’re putting your door high up, like on a rooftop, so if I’m making a door up high I’ll usually make it out of glass and then weave an illusion to make it look like an office inside. They won’t be familiar enough with the building to figure out it’s a trick. Now, you really start to run into real trouble when you get fated adventurer types. You know, seventh sons of seventh sons, humans of elvish descent who start to develop their ancestor’s physical characteristics, young girls who are Very Clever. To be honest, I’ve never quite figured out how to keep them out. No matter where you put your door, no matter how you disguise it, they always seem to find a way through it, chasing a runaway pet or escaping bullies or something. Only thing you can do is try to chase them back out before they cause much trouble. Finally, you’ve got the really annoying types. The ‘don’t fit ins.’ People who go around moaning how ‘there’s got to be more to life than just this.’ People who are depressed or abused or who have problems that can’t be fixed in this world that they think can be fixed in our world. People who think running into fairies is all fun and games. Or worse, those who know exactly how dangerous we are and want in anyway for some reason.”

“We have one of those types around here,” Marian said, dryly.

Nightingale barked out a laugh. She was also at the desk, leaning on one elbow with her hat sitting next to her as she chatted with Marian and Bryopsida. “You’re talking about Riven.”

“They always seem to show up at guilds like this one,” Bryopsida continued. “They’re always keeping an eye out for mysterious doors that weren’t there before, and they aren’t afraid to peek through them just in case. What’s more, once they do get inside, they’re impossible to get out. I hate kicking out those who have nothing to go back to, but they just aren’t going to find what they’re looking for in our world, at least not in any way that’ll make them happy. Best way to avoid them is to hide the door from sight altogether. Put it in a closet or something. Or else make it look like a temporary service entrance for an area under repair. That’s what I did today.”

“Oh, yes, by meeting room number three,” Marian said, adjusting her glasses. “That place is a disaster. Why one of these idiot adventurers thinks it’s a good idea to keep a tiger around, I’ll never know.”

“You think that’ll stop Riven?” Nightingale asked. “I’ve seen her burst into the same broom closet three times, shouting ‘Ah-ha!’ That girl is determined to turn herself into some fairy’s plaything.”

“I don’t see why you don’t just ask her out, darling,” said Marian. “She seems like a much better match for you than Kaylen.”

“She doesn’t even begin to compare to my precious Kaylen,” Nightingale said, sighing. “Oh, how I wish I could kidnap her and keep her in a cage!”

Bryopsida nervously glanced over his shoulder at Marian. “Uh, look, if you really think there’s a chance this Riven woman will find my door, maybe we should hurry this along. If my Lady finds a human in her manor, she’ll want to keep her, and then I’ll get in trouble with my boss. The head servant is a real political type, you know? All obsessed with the humane treatment of humans and letting them stay in the wild instead of keeping them as pets.”

“Not to worry,” said Marian. “I’m just about finished. Just need to choose a team to offer the job to.”

She picked up another sheet of paper and glanced it over.

“I know you wanted a rush order, but it looks like just about every party is on a job currently. Nightingale, you want this one?”

Nightingale shook her head. “No can do. As much as I’m sure Maxim would love to put one over on the magical community, he’s busy right now with his whole ‘invent a child’ project. Plus Bessen’s just been invited to fight in some tournament and Atworth took a side job convincing a kraken to leave the harbor. I’d take the job on my own, but I don’t want to deal with whatever your Lady will do if I fail.”

“Fair enough,” said Marian, looking over the paper again. “Hmm, that only leaves one party, but they aren’t exactly the most reliable.”

Ten gold pieces. It was something. It was not nothing. It wasn’t one thousand gold pieces. It wasn’t even one hundred gold pieces. But it was solid. In fact, it was the most pay Lady von Ekko’s Glorious Adventurer Brigade had received for a job so far. And yet, it was tremendously unsatisfying compared to what they should have received.

They had tried their hardest. Andra had found the flask piece with the most curve and ordered Fiona to remove her shirt and wring it out. True, Riven had spilled a few drops because she was distracted by staring at Fiona, but all in all they had collected a pretty solid sample. But of course, Maxim just wouldn’t be satisfied. “That’s not even enough for the centrifuge,” he had complained. “I’ll have to hire a mage to do a scan spell, and you know how unreliable those are.”

Andra had tried appealing to the Guild. She had insisted that the original request had used the word “sample,” not “full dose.” Maxim had countered that he had made it clear to the party that he required a full dose. In the end, the judgment fell on the side of Maxim. However, since he acknowledged that the small sample might be enough for him to achieve his goal, he offered the party a partial payment of ten gold pieces.

Still, Andra couldn’t stop thinking about the sight of that ball crashing into the flask, sending ninety gold pieces spilling into the dirt. Even now, as they made their way through the woods and up the hill to their next job, she couldn’t get that moment out her mind.

“Why the hell did they build this stupid school so far away from the train station?” she blurted in frustration.

No one responded.

“Uh, Riven, I think she’s talking to you,” Kaylen said.

Riven jerked in surprise. “Hmm? Oh, it’s more like the train station was built far from the school. I guess the administration was worried about the train whistles disturbing, I dunno, rituals or whatever.”

Kaylen stepped forward to catch up to Riven. “Are you okay, Riven? You seem distracted.”

“You ever feel like you missed out on something really important? Because I’ve been feeling like that all day.”

“Well, you’d better get your head on straight. We are not messing up this job,” Andra said harshly.

“Yeah, we’re gonna need your help if we’re going to free the fairy that’s powering Magi-net,” said Kaylen enthusiastically, trying to rub some of her enthusiasm off onto Riven.

“Okay, first of all, there’s no fairy powering Magi-net. That’s not how Magi-net works,” Riven said.

“How does it work?” Fiona asked.

Riven sighed and put on her lecture voice. “Historically, mages have had two ways of communicating over long distances, books and mirrors, usually enchanted to work in pairs. They each have their own advantages. Books allow transmission of text and drawings, and only one book in a pair needs to be active at a time. A mage can write something down and an hour later the other mage can check the other book and see what was written. Mirrors let you transmit sounds and full-color images and work well in tandem with illusion spells, but both sides have to be active at the same time. Mirrors don’t record stuff.

“Anyway, eventually someone worked out that more than one book could be connected to the same ‘parent’ book, and that stuff written in the ‘parent’ could be seen in all of its ‘children.’ From there, people started hooking up books and mirrors in all kinds of creative ways. Eventually Constellation Academy started a big project where they hooked up a whole room full of books and mirrors and started handing out books to any mage who wanted to connect with it. That’s Magi-net. It’s a beautiful system. Mages can write to some books, but not to others. And there’s even a system in some books where if I write something, no one else can overwrite it. Plus now they’ve figured out ways to play mirror transmissions over and over again and⁠—here, I’ll show you.”

She pulled Fiona over to a log near the path and Kaylen and Andra crowded around her as she sat and pulled out her Magi-net book. She opened it to a page marked by a thin leather bookmark and touched one of the words on the page. The page momentarily turned blank before new words appeared and she touched one of those as well. She repeated this a couple more times, then flipped back to the inside of the front cover, where a small mirror was embedded. The mirror turned cloudy for a moment, before clearing up to display an awkward angle of a small dining room with a cat on the table. The image approached the cat who looked up with wild eyes, then suddenly lunged forward until its face filled the mirror. Then the mirror’s face turned black.

“Kitty!” shouted Fiona, delighted.

“What the hell was that?” asked Andra.

“It was a recorded image of someone’s cat. Being all crazy,” Riven explained.

“Okay, but why?” Kaylen asked.

“Because it was cute,” said Fiona. “Did you see? She was all excited!”

“It’s not just cute,” Riven added. “It’s testing the capabilities of a miracle of modern magic which has the potential to change the world.”

Andra was still confused. “Change the world… with cats?”

“It does more than just cats,” Riven said, exasperated. She closed the book. “Look, the point is, it’s all paper and glass. Stuff that human magic is perfectly capable of enchanting long-term. Fairies aren’t necessary and wouldn’t be particularly helpful. Magi-net is a purely human creation.”

“So then what are we supposed to be looking for?” Kaylen asked.

“I’m not sure,” Riven admitted. “But hopefully we’ll be able to find it.”

She stood and started to continue, but Andra lingered.

“I’m tired,” she whined. “Fiona, carry me.”

“Don’t,” Kaylen replied harshly. “Fiona, do not carry her.”