At Home

During the time to follow—Evony made herself at home.

The new routine began; each day, she awoke around seven-thirty, showered, collected the proton pistol from its charging stand on her nightstand, and marched out of the house, arriving at work around nine and traveling up to the top floor. She spent most of her day alongside Osric—sharing long conversations with him about a wide variety of topics, and helping him with his occasional projects like a true assistant, his most prioritized one currently being the MKIII OS for the bot butlers. When lunch came around, she sometimes ventured down to the enormous and magnificent dining hall—a positively huge room with a high ceiling and chandeliers, dark and rustic wooden walls and a long, curved bar along the side—and she sat at the bar alongside Cally, eating whatever was on the menu that day, trading gossip with her, and hearing all about the endeavors of Thomas and Javari, as well as Trisha and Bellura.

Evony even met the head chef and the bartender during her first full workday—the head chef being a husky man called Dean, and the bartender being a suave blond named Sampson.

Now—it was fairly normal for her to arrive in the dining hall around one each day, sit at the end of the bar next to Cally, and share a lunch and a conversation with her, entertaining the occasional talks with Dean or Sampson whenever they were nearby. In fact—Osric started to join the girls for lunch as well.

Outside of work hours—Cally persistently pressured Evony out of her comfort zone of at-home isolation, pulling her away from her house to visit the Silver Hollow again, or to join Thomas and Javari on one of their blaster-racing adventures. It soon became normal to expect Cally’s texts shortly after six o’clock when she was leaving work, and she often mentally rehearsed how she would respond each time, sometimes politely declining, other times deciding to agree and join her.

On the nights she preferred to simply go home—she usually lost herself to an information-gathering rabbit hole.

The list of office visitors that Levi had written for her was a short one, containing only six names—but that day, when she took the list home and stared at it, pondering heavily on everything that Osric was investigating, she impulsively began researching all on her own. She remembered creeping down the stairs a week or so later, tip-toing over to her father’s computer—where he was asleep slumped over the desk, snoring on his folded arms—and she gently plucked the latest publication of Beyond the Veil from underneath his keyboard, sneaking off with it and keeping it upstairs.

After reading through it and finding several of her father’s speculations regarding the stories inside the paper—she began pinning things to her wall, just as Osric had inside his cabin.

The editor of this paper, a man evidently names Jacob Shine, wrote about very similar things to Terian Ackerman; he spoke of reptilian sightings, often speculating on how the coldblooded race could be living anywhere here in the icy south, even suggesting that some of the people in power here may have been responsible, as there was simply no other explanation.

So—after pinning Levi’s list to the wall, as well as this article from the paper, she visited the pawn shop in town the next day, sold the diamond hair tie that Bellura had abandoned in the diner, and used a tiny fraction of the money to buy yarn, sticky notes, and pins from the craft store next door, purchasing another newspaper at the front counter before she left. Then—she returned home, and she dug even deeper into the news, both the mainstream paper and the alternative one, seeking out any stories or mentions of the people on the list and pinning the potentially relevant ones to the wall, connecting them to the reptilian-themed news article with a string of yarn.

The six people on Levi’s list were people whom she originally knew nothing about—people she did an incredible amount of research on in the weeks to follow.

The list was pinned to her wall at the top of the messy assortment of news articles, name mentions, pictures, and sticky notes, and the small, torn sheet of yellow notepad paper displayed the list in Levi’s curvy, scratchy handwriting. The list was connected to the reptilian-themed article by yarn, and a sticky note with a sharpie-drawn question mark was attached to the end of this yarn strand.

The list itself read;

Alexander Armani
Perry Byers
Harrison James
Darren Jackson
Julia Sinclair
Ron Whittaker

This list named everyone who had personally visited Osric’s office in the past four months—meaning they were the top suspects in question, the six people who would have had the opportunity to swipe Osric’s keys and hand them over to Alazar’s Army. Evony kept that list posted above all the rest of the things on her bedroom wall—and now, many days of digging and research later, every single name on it was connected by yarn to a sticky note, each one detailing who the person was, and how likely of a suspect they were.

Alexander Armani’s sticky note read Owner of the SAMs Corporation, Javari’s father, Osric’s (unofficial) business partner. Seemingly unlikely.

Perry Byers’s sticky note read Silverhollow Mayor, Bellura’s father. Likelihood unknown.

Harrison James’s sticky note read Business manager, Osric’s previous manager, now retired, seemingly unlikely.

Darren Jackson’s sticky note read Metal and electronics supplier for Azarias Industries, likelihood unknown.

Julia Sinclair’s sticky note read Current manager of Azarias Industries, likelihood unknown.

Ron Whittaker’s sticky note read Coordinator from the United Nations Organization, in charge of planning the yearly Christmas Convention, likelihood unknown.

On this day, early in the morning—after most of November had passed by, during the first day of its final week—Evony stood before her wall of information with folded arms, her radio playing from the nightstand, and her eyes darting from one pinned paper to another as her mind worked up a storm.

Every single day for the past few weeks, she awoke from vivid, lucid dreams, and leftover emotions were often weighing on her for a while thereafter, her cluttered mind eventually shifting gears into reality and traveling passionately into the realms of curiosity—of whatever the hell was going on in Silverhollow, of what kind of cover-ups were underway, and of what possible motivation anyone could have for wanting the head of a reptilian extremist group to someday capture Osric Azarias.

The longer she made herself more at home here in Silverhollow, the more things she began to feel, and the more impassioned she became about her goals now. It was as if a switch had been flipped—as if God had suddenly reactivated her after twenty long years of being in sleep mode, and now, every thought, every feeling, every dream, and every task felt amplified to the absolute max. She was practically getting carried away with it all—absolutely immersed in it—and she felt, for the first time, like she was really and truly alive.

Evony’s eyes followed each yarn strand from the list of names to their sticky note descriptions—and now, each sticky note also had a picture pinned beside it, all of them cut from different newspaper articles, showing the person they described.

Alexander Armani’s image looked eerily similar to Javari, even down to the fedora, though his beard was considerably larger and fuller than the small patch of one on his son’s chin. Perry Byers, the mayor, had a stern and pensive face, as well as a black suit and a tall hat to match it, frowning expressionlessly in his picture. Harrison James was an older gentleman with glasses, smiling politely at the camera, and Darren Jackson was an older African American man with a similarly kind smile. Ron Whittaker was a man about Evony and Osric’s age with a slicked-back hairstyle and a charismatic smirk, and Julia Sinclair looked the most gorgeous of them all, with a flawless face, long brunet hair, small hoop earrings, and a great smile, eyes that shone green, and cheekbones that were the perfect proportion for her smooth, beautiful visage.

Evony found herself staring at Julia’s picture without meaning to, absorbing just how attractive this woman truly was, and her mind began to wander into a different sort of curiosity, looking down, sighing, and mindlessly combing her hairs over the side of her face. Then, she quickly forced those thoughts away and returned to the important ones, looking up and narrowing her eyes at each picture individually.

Her mind continued reaching, scanning every possibility available to her, but even now, she didn’t know enough about any of these people to determine much more. Any of them could have been the one to set Osric up—and she couldn’t think of a solid motive for any of them. As far as she could tell right now, they all simply seemed like people he’d met up with for business or event purposes, nothing more.

Well—perhaps except for Julia. That woman was so pretty, Osric might have met with her for other reasons entirely.

“Fucking…” Evony swore at herself, shaking her head and tearing her eyes from the wall, smacking herself lightly on the cheek. “ Stop it… focus…”

She began to pace back and forth, digging her fingers into her temples as she forced her mind back onto the right track.

Then—she suddenly froze, lowering her hands from her head as something only just occurred to her.

Osric had a list of his own, pinned to his cabin’s wall—and there was one name on that list that was also on Levi’s.

Evony turned—her eyes locking onto the name Perry Byers .

Yes—Osric’s list was of people who had the money and the means to secretly smuggle and shelter reptilians here in Silverhollow, and Levi’s list was of all the suspects who could have stolen his keys for the setup.

She’d been racking her brain over the wrong thing. She couldn’t have possibly been able to ascertain a motive just yet—but she could certainly narrow down the suspects by determining who had the most means.

And out of all six suspects on the list—Mayor Byers was the one who fit the bill now.

Evony snatched up her pen from the nightstand and marched over to the sticky note attached to Byers’s name, crossing out the words likelihood unknown and writing in large, underlined letters beneath it; PRIME SUSPECT .

Then, she stepped back and stared at it, rethinking it to make sure it was correct.

It seemed to be; most of the people on this list did have plenty of money, but they didn’t have the same means and connections that the mayor of this town would. All of the others lived somewhere far away from Silverhollow, and they wouldn’t likely be able to smuggle and house reptilian extremists here—but the mayor of the town certainly could, especially if he owned property here, or if he had personal deals struck with the local contractors and law enforcement. Those were the types of means and connections that only a homebody could have.

“That’s it. That’s it. Hah ,” Evony breathed with a laugh, smacking the wall where Byers’s picture was. “I gotchu now.”

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.

A fast rapping on her bedroom door made her nearly leap from her skin; Evony swallowed a gasp and whipped around, staring at the door and feeling her heart jolt.

“Hello-ooo?” Terian called out from the other side. “I’ve been calling for you for fifteen minutes, Evony. I need an answer.”

Evony glimpsed back at her cluttered wall of information, then broke into a brisk stride toward her door. The door was positioned sideways from her information wall, thankfully—meaning her father wouldn’t be able to see it, so long as he didn’t actually walk into the room.

“An answer about what? ” she griped, unlocking the door and pulling it open.

Terian stood at the top of the narrow stairs just outside her doorway, staring at her caustically. “Laundry? The thing I’ve been shouting about all morning? Did you really not hear me?”

Evony opened her mouth, glancing over at her wall and quickly turning back. “I was busy… sorry. What about laundry?”

“Do you have any?” Terian said flatly, sounding as if he was reiterating it for the twentieth time. “I’m throwing our laundry in and I wanna have it all done before I go to work.”

Evony hesitated, glimpsing to the side once more and staring at the messy collection of dirty clothes scattered all around her hamper in the corner. Yes, she had plenty of things that needed washing—but if she moved from the doorway and walked across the room to get it, then her father might step into the room and see everything.

“Ahm… yeah, I’ll bring it down in a minute,” Evony told him.

Terian narrowed his eyes at her.

“Why are you being so neurotic?” he inquired.

Evony made an odd face. “Um… I’m not?”

“Yes you are. You’re busy? At home? With what? ” Terian scoffed with a laugh. “You’re never busy with anything when you’re at home… except for reading.”

“Well…” Evony gave her wall of information another brief glimpse. “I was reading…”

“I find that hard to believe, because you only lose yourself to a book after work, never before,” Terian replied knowingly. “So try again. What’s going on with you?”

Evony huffed out an aggravated breath. “Can you just leave it alone? I’m trying to figure out something for work. I’m busy , and I’m trying to focus . Seriously…”

Terian squinted skeptically at her. “Trying to figure what out?”

“Just… stuff for the convention!” Evony exclaimed. “The convention’s gonna start in like a week, and I have to figure out a whole bunch of scheduling stuff! Okay?!”

Terian was silent for a moment, eyeing her intently.

“Why do they have you working on the scheduling?” he thought to ask. “I thought you were just doing seasonal janitorial work over there.”

“Yeah… well… I ended up unofficially managing the janitorial work over there,” Evony lied wittily. “That’s what happens when you’re working with a bunch of incompetents.”

Terian gave her another quiet stare, then sighed and looked down for a second, nodding and shrugging.

“Okay… all right,” he relented. “But you really shouldn’t let that place take advantage of you like that. I’d try to get through to Osric himself if I were you… maybe request a raise or a promotion, if you can actually get a moment to speak with him, or get a message to him. I imagine that’s probably hard to do, but… worth a shot.”

Evony stared, blowing a strand of hair from her face. Her father still had no idea how close she actually was with Osric. In fact, he didn’t know that she’d met him at all, much else become his friend and personal assistant. He didn’t know any of the details about her job, or the frantic and unorthodox way that she had obtained it, and she intended to keep it that way.

“Mhm… I’ll keep that in mind,” Evony said. “But I really don’t wanna bother the management there… or the owner. They’re actually paying me really well.”

Terian perked his brow. “Are they?”

“Oh yeah,” Evony replied, this time speaking with full honesty. “Oz… I mean, Silver Peaks… they’re actually paying me almost twice as much as I made before.”

Terian shot her a double-take. “No kidding…?”

“Yeah… but don’t tell Al and Manny that yet,” Evony added with a laugh. “They’re gonna want me to buy them a fifty-seven-inch 3DTV or some crazy shit…”

Terian chuckled. “Well, yeah, let’s not do that. We need to get all our bases covered before we start spoiling anyone.”

“Yup,” Evony agreed.

“Well… okay, I’ll leave you to it then,” Terian disclosed, draping an arm around her and patting her on the back. “Love you, kiddo. Have a good day, and don’t forget the laundry.”

“Love you too,” Evony dismissed. “Seeya.”

Terian smirked and gave her a two-fingered salute before marching down the stairs.

Evony closed her bedroom door, locked it, and pressed her back to it, sighing heavily and gazing over at her wall of information once more. She stared at it for a long, quiet moment, no sound in her room aside from the soft string of music playing from her radio.

She didn’t enjoy lying to her father, and up until now, she never really felt the need to—but this was the first time she’d ever gotten involved with something like this, and she knew her father would get as involved as possible if he ever found out. The last thing she wanted was for him to be in danger again.

Ping.

Evony blinked, snapping out of her thoughts and pulling her phone from her pocket. She found a new text from Osric, a fairly long one, and the message read;

Hellooo… and a wonderful morning to you! Might’en you do me a favor on your way over today? I am having a particularly savage craving for a fresh, tender seal-ka-bob, and I also intend to watch them put up the big Christmas tree in the town square today. Would you mind grabbing us a couple of seal-ka-bobs and meeting me out there?

Evony breathed out a laugh as she read this, practically hearing his lighthearted voice in her mind as she did. He even carried that personal, whimsical tone of his in his texting.

She typed out a reply and sent it, reading;

Sure, no problem. Right now? Or at nine?

Evony lowered the phone and zipped up her leather jacket, sitting on her bed and putting her boots on. Then, she got a reply text, and it read;

Right now! Oh, but the stand on the main road isn’t open until ten, so you’ll have to grab the seal-ka-bobs from the diner… iiif that’s okay?

Evony found herself smiling again, sending another response;

Of course. Lol. Where am I meeting you? Where is this big Christmas tree?

Moments later, she got a reply again;

Oh… you’ll see. You won’t miss it.

Evony made an odd face, still smiling, and responding with;

Ha… okay. Duly noted. Seeya soon.

She stood and pocketed the phone in her left jacket pocket, sliding the small proton pistol into the right one, as always. Just when she moved to leave the room, she got another text;

Seeya soon! Oh, but it might take me a minute to get over there if I get ambushed. There’s a bit of a crowd outside right now. Sorry! And thank you!

Evony typed out one more reply;

No worries, see you in a bit :)

She pulled her door open and almost stepped out—halting and walking over to the corner of the room, just remembering to grab her laundry. After carrying it downstairs and placing it in the washer, she started it for her father, then strolled across the living room and left the house.

Evony hid her hands deeply in her pockets, coiling her black, glittered scarf firmly around her neck while she walked across the snow. And, as she headed toward the center of town—the town square, as Osric had referred to it—the very first thing she spotted from a distance was a great, massive pine tree lying in the middle of the open stretch where the pathways and the shops all intersected, several people gathered around it, a few in yellow vests fastening something to it, a large machine behind it, as they were preparing to perch it upright on its stand.

“Mhm… yeah, really can’t miss it,” Evony affirmed to herself, glancing to the right at the diner.

She marched over and pushed the doors open, approaching the counter and making the order. When the seal-ka-bobs were done, she wrapped them tighter in their aluminum before going back outside, hoping to keep them warm and fresh.

Evony strode down the way and approached the enormous pine tree lying on its side, several groups of people standing around in the heart of town and trading conversation nearby it. She glimpsed between them all, walking past many of them and positioning herself just down the road from the lodge.

Then, as she stopped and narrowed her eyes at it from afar, she spotted something just beside the archway that stood before the stone stairs—a large, shiny media van, its side door open, and five or so people rushing up the stairs toward someone, two of them holding cameras, one with a tall, craned microphone.

“Oh hell,” Evony sighed.

Osric had just stepped out of the lodge, pausing at the top of the stairs and gazing across the scene at the lying tree in the distance. Oliver floated beside him, the bot’s pixelated face instantly changing to a flatter one.

“Oh dear,” the bot butler said, hovering a little closer to his master and tapping his shoulder. “Brace for impact, sir.”

Osric blinked behind his goggles and looked down—only just spotting the media crowd hurrying up the stairs toward him.

“Aaaw… they’re really gonna ruin my Christmas tree day? ” the inventor exhaled. “Oh, for the love of…”

“Mr. Azarias! Mr. Azarias!” the woman leading the pack of media heads panted exasperatedly, stopping just two stairs down from him and swiping her long blonde hair back.

“Yeees… what is it?” Osric moaned with annoyance, rolling his neck and staring down at her.

“Do you have a comment on the Cevron City attack, and how your road blaster played a part in it?” the woman inquired, holding her handheld microphone out toward him.

“I don’t… my road… what? ” Osric breathed. “That attack was eons ago… and it didn’t involve a blaster of any kind.”

The woman took back, now trading confused glances with the four men around her, one of them adjusting his grasp on his shoulder-mounted camera, another one slowly easing his longer microphone out toward them.

“No—the attack of last night , Mr. Azarias,” the woman clarified, extending her mic again.

“Oooh,” Osric uttered with a nod. “Well… I haven’t heard about that one yet. My apologies, but I’m afraid I’ve got no comments for you at this time.”

He peeked past her at the distant lying tree.

“Now, if I could just…” Osric muttered, trying to take a step, but the two men nearest him blocked his way, making him sigh and roll his neck again.

The woman wheeled around, faced her camera, cleared her throat, and began speaking a mile a minute.

“This is Candice Millcreek here in Silverhollow, speaking with the inventor of the road blaster, Osric Azarias—who is apparently unaware of the attempted terror attack that transpired in the capital city of the British Empire just last night,” she ranted, turning back around to face him. “If you could tell us—”

“I can’t,” Osric griped.

“If you could just let us know—”

“I don’t know anything.”

“But if you could just speak on behalf of your invention—”

“I’ll kindly decline to speak blindly about an event that I know nothing about on camera, thank you,” Osric said snidely, his tone lowering. “ Or how any invention of mine may or may not have played a part in it. Would you please step aside now?”

Candice lowered her microphone and sighed, but she and her team made no effort to move out of the way. Instead, she turned to her men and made a ‘cut’ motion with her hand.

“Turn the cameras off for a second so I can brief him,” she ordered, then faced Osric again. “Mr. Azarias, there was an attempted bombing on the south side of Cevron City last night. A witness at a nearby bar—who was riding one of your road blasters—spotted a hooded figure hiding in the alleyway behind the building, trying to plant a bomb in the bar’s dumpster. When the witness yelled at him, the hooded figure attempted to run away—but the witness was able to catch him quickly and swiftly because of your road blaster. It’s uncommon for anyone outside of the American Colony to even have blasters, and this is also the first known time that one of these bombings was able to be prevented. This is an incredibly unique story, and it could be a very favorable one for your image, if you simply play your part here. Just tell us a little about the invention… or the uncommon scenario of them being in the British Empire… anything. Just five minutes of your time. That’s all I ask.”

“Well… I am very glad to hear that the violent deaths and bombings all across Concordia are so positive and image-worthy to you and your illustriously parasitic compatriots,” Osric replied disinterestedly. “But I’m sorry to say, I lost interest in how the world views me a very long time ago.”

He tried to walk past them—but yet again, Candice and her media crew blocked his path.

“I don’t think you understand how impactful this story is,” the woman stated. “This is the first time that a man attempting one of these bombings was apprehended and stopped beforehand—and your invention played a massive role in it.”

“Oh, I understand… I understand that media outlets of your variety will find a way to twist this story against me, reworking or reimagining any questionable word or any colorful turn-of-phrase that I might use,” Osric grumbled. “It’s the same every time… always has been, always will be. And I don’t care for entertaining that routine of character assassination any long…”

He suddenly stopped, trailing off, falling silent, and staring past her at nothing in particular, zoning out of reality as his mind wandered to a single, peculiar thought.

Then, he blinked and shook his head once, aiming his darkened lenses at her once more.

“Man,” Osric muttered, his brow hardening. “Did you say that a man was attempting that bombing?”

“Yes… that is correct,” Candice affirmed, subtly motioning to her crew to begin filming again.

“A man… as in… a human being?” Osric tried to clarify.

“That’s right,” Candice confirmed.

Osric gazed past her yet again, his mind suddenly escaping him, now feeling oddly unaware of the cameras on him, or anyone else nearby. His thoughts left the world around him, venturing into areas of conspiracy, of things that he’d only mildly suspected before, but he knew almost certainly now.

“You’re right,” he murmured faintly, speaking more to the open air than to her. “That… is a massive story. And I doubt if you even comprehend why…”

Evony had been easing her way closer to the scene, now standing at the bottom of the stairs and staring up at Osric and the media team all around him. She just managed to get into earshot when another person strolled out the front double-doors of the lodge, stopping beside the inventor and the bot butler.

“Oh… and what do we have here?” the man said, clasping his gloved hands and glancing over at Osric, just before adjusting his black top hat. “To what to we owe the pleasure this time?”

Osric snapped back into reality and turned his head—now facing Perry Byers, who was wearing his usual black overcoat and a clean-cut suit underneath it, his dark eyes glistening beneath the brim of his hat, and his expression just as firm and no-nonsense as always, though he appeared to be attempting a halfhearted smile for the cameras.

“Where’d you come from?” Osric muttered.

“Oh, I uh… I came by to make sure everything is ready for my little shin-dig,” Byers replied, motioning back to the double-doors. “You do remember, right?”

Osric stared blankly at him.

“I’ve got your dining hall rented out for my Thanksgiving get-together tonight,” Byers reminded him.

“Oooh,” Osric breathed with a nod. “Right…”

Evony narrowed her eyes at the figures standing at the top of the stairs—her focus locking onto the man in the dark coat and top hat. She’d never seen him in person before, but she knew precisely who it was, her arm coiled snugly around her warm, aluminum-wrapped seal-ka-bobs, and her fingers beginning to dig harder into them the longer she stared.

“Mr. Byers,” Candice interjected, moving closer and holding the mic out to him. “What do you have to say about the attempted attack in Cevron City last night, and the use of an Azarias product that helped to thwart it?”

Byers’s mouth drifted agape, and Osric glanced over at him, suddenly flashing a childlike grin.

“Tag—you’re it,” Osric said, slapping the mayor on the arm and quickly running away.

The media crew scrambled to block his path yet again—but Osric raced around them in a fast and wide circle this time—narrowly slipping past them and hurriedly thumping down the stone stairway with his cane held upright.

“Mind your footing, sir!” Oliver advised as he soared along behind him.

“No! Don’t—don’t let him out of your sight!” Candice shrieked, whipping around and jabbing her finger after Osric.

Her four media men erupted into action—all of them rushing down the stairs after the runaway inventor, Candice following as quickly as she could.

Osric laughed gleefully into the air as he made his escape, raising his cane above his head with both hands—and Evony observed from the bottom of the stairs, watching the media crew chase him, and angrily grinding her teeth.

Near the bottom—Osric took a daring leap and cleared the rest of the stairs—skidding to a staggering stop on the snow and quickly wheeling around.

“Oliver!” he yelled, grabbing the bot butler’s round body and reeling back. “Crowd control!”

He then pitched the robot at his pursuers with all his might.

Oliver wobbled rapidly through the air and instantly regained his hovering balance—aiming his screen and speakers at the media men and suddenly unleashing the worst and most deafening noise that anyone nearby had ever heard, a terrible and shrill explosion of screeching and white noise blasting out of his speakers so loudly, it made them crackle.

The four media men instantly recoiled and clasped their skulls, wincing and groaning as they froze on the stairway. Many of the groups far down the road began to turn their heads, staring at the lodge and the source of the noise—but Candice did not stop her pursuit. She shoved past her cameramen and stomped down the stairs regardless of the horrid noise and her watering eyes, still holding her microphone and homing in on Osric.

Evony huffed out a breath and cocked her head, bending down and collecting a big handful of snow.

Osric remained still for just long enough to give Candice a smile and a two-fingered salute—then spun around and speed-walked away.

Candice reached the bottom of the stairs—

And Evony threw a snowball at her—pelting her directly in the face and making her head jolt back almost comically, an unflattering sputtering noise escaping her as she spat out a chunk of icy fluff.

Candice vigorously wiped the snowy flakes from her face—just when Oliver stopped blaring the terrible noise and whizzed directly past her head, making her gasp and jump.

Evony shot her a snide look before turning on her heel and marching off behind Osric, Oliver floating along with them.

Candice and her men stared after them, but none of them tried to pursue the inventor any further—and Evony, Osric, and Oliver ventured into the heart of town together unbothered.