Doc stood in the common room watching the door close behind Mazoga's group. The inn settled into quieter rhythms—the clatter of dishes from the kitchen, muffled conversation from a corner table, the creak of floorboards overhead.

  Elara emerged from behind the bar, wiping her hands on her apron. Her eyes found him immediately.

  "Everything all right?" she asked.

  Doc nodded. "They're heading into the city. Should be back before evening."

  Elara studied him for a moment. "Anything you need while you wait? Or do you have plans to keep yourself busy?"

  Doc hesitated. The relay equipment sat in his pack upstairs—components he'd kept carefully out of sight during the journey with the other group. He needed to get it set up soon.

  But doing that required space and privacy. Somewhere he could work without explaining what he was building.

  "Actually," Doc said, keeping his tone casual, "do you have an attic? Somewhere I could rent while we're here? I need a quiet space to work." Elara blinked. "Rent?" She paused, then laughed—a genuine sound, warm and surprised. "We've got one, but nobody's ever asked to pay for it. It's just old furniture and boxes of gods-know-what."

  "That's fine," Doc said. "I just need space."

  She shook her head, still smiling. "If you want it, you can have it. No need to pay extra." She gestured toward the stairs. "Second floor, end of the hall. There's a ladder that pulls down. Should be unlocked."

  "Appreciate it."

  Elara waved him off, already turning back toward the kitchen. "Don't break anything up there."

  Doc headed upstairs.

  The attic ladder creaked as he pulled it down, the hinges stiff from disuse. Dust drifted through the shaft of light spilling up from the hallway below. Doc climbed carefully, his pack slung across one shoulder.

  The space opened above him—low ceiling, slanted beams, cluttered with exactly what Elara had described. Old chairs stacked against one wall, crates filled with fabric scraps, a broken cabinet leaning against a support beam. The air smelled faintly of aged wood.

  Good enough.

  Doc crossed to the far corner, away from the ladder and the clutter. He set his pack down, crouched, and began unpacking.

  The relay module came out first—bronze casing, copper antenna folded flat against its side. Small enough to fit in both hands. Lux had walked him through the assembly months ago, back when Carl and Calen had first helped build the prototypes.

  Doc extended the antenna, locking it into place with a soft click. The unit hummed faintly as internal circuits aligned.

  Relay active, Lux said. Signal integrity stable. Ready for transmission.

  Doc keyed the radio built into his suit and opened the line to Threeburrow.

  Static crackled for two seconds.

  Then Rurran's voice came through, low and steady. "This is Rurran."

  "It's Doc," he said. "We've arrived in Glasshold. Everything's secure."

  A pause. Then: "Good to hear. Any trouble on the road?"

  "Encountered a Frostmaw Ursar near the Waste. Took it down. No casualties."

  Rurran grunted acknowledgment. "Garrik treating you well?"

  "He and his family have been helpful," Doc said. "Garrik's guiding Marron and the others through the city now."

  "He's good for that. Knows Glasshold better than most." Another pause. "Anything else?"

  "Not yet. We'll check in again once Marron finishes at the Merchant's Guild."

  "Understood. Stay safe."

  The line went quiet.

  Doc adjusted the frequency and keyed the second channel—tri-settlement.

  The response came faster this time. Edda's voice, clear and precise.

  "Settlement base. Go ahead."

  "It's Doc. We're in Glasshold. Marron's heading to the Merchant's Guild today."

  "Good," Edda said. "That's progress. How's the group?"

  "Everyone's fine. Mazoga's reporting in at the Adventurer's Guild. Calen's with Marron. Bran, Tanna, and I are holding the inn."

  "Smart. Stay out of sight where you can."

  Doc nodded even though she couldn't see it. "How are things there?"

  A brief pause. Then Edda's tone shifted—still professional, but carrying an undercurrent of satisfaction.

  "The rifles are working better. Kesh's been running drills with the militia. We've got a larger armed force now—nothing fancy, but functional."

  Doc smiled despite himself. "That's good to hear."

  "There've been draugr sightings," Edda continued. "Kesh spotted a few on the lower slopes. They don't come up the mountain, but they're lingering. We're keeping watch."

  Doc's smile faded slightly. "Understood. Let me know if that changes."

  "Will do." Another pause. "Carl's been working on something new. He's calling it 'command central'—using the tablet you left behind. He wants to build a centralized coordination hub for the tri-settlement."

  Doc's eyebrows rose. "Command central?"

  "His words, not mine. He's running into supply issues, though. Needs more materials than we've got on hand."

  Doc shook his head, grinning again. Of course Carl was running into supply issues. The kid never thought small.

  "Tell him I'll see what Marron can source in Glasshold," Doc said. "We'll bring back what we can."

  "I'll let him know." Edda's voice softened slightly. "Doc."

  "Yeah?"

  "You're in a big city now. That means guild presence. Mages. Adventurers with high-level skills. People who notice things."

  Doc's grin faded completely. "I know."

  "Be careful. Don't draw attention you don't need."

  "Understood."

  The line went quiet for a moment. Then Edda spoke again, her tone returning to its usual measured cadence.

  "Check in tomorrow. Same time."

  "Will do."

  The transmission ended.

  Doc lowered the radio, staring at the relay module for a long moment. Its faint hum filled the silence of the attic, steady and reliable.

  Edda was right. Glasshold wasn't like Threeburrow or the tri-settlement. This was a real city—thousands of people, multiple guilds, hierarchies and power structures he didn't fully understand yet.

  Assessment, Lux said quietly. Recommendation: minimize public exposure. Maintain low operational profile. Avoid guild facilities where possible.

  "Agreed," Doc murmured.

  He left the relay running and started toward the ladder.

  Doc's boot hit the second-floor landing when the shout reached him—sharp, young, panicked.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  "Stop! Get away from there!"

  Lux's alert came a half-second later. Fish engaged. Two targets pinned against structure. Third target immobilized by Snow Tusk. Non-lethal restraint.

  Doc was already moving.

  He took the stairs fast, hand instinctively brushing the grip of his plasma pistol before forcing it away. Not in a city.

  The common room blurred past. Elara emerged from the kitchen, her expression sharpening the moment she saw him.

  "Stable yard," Doc said.

  She followed without question.

  The scene resolved the instant Doc stepped outside.

  Fish stood in the center of the yard, low and still. Her violet-traced fur caught the light, hackles raised just enough to broadcast intent. Two figures—human, young—were pressed flat against the stable wall, frozen mid-breath. Neither moved. Fish hadn't touched them.

  Snow Tusk loomed near the wagon, one massive hoof pinning a third figure to the frozen dirt. The Colossagoat's bulk made the boy beneath him look impossibly small.

  Tam stood near the well, bucket forgotten at his feet, eyes wide.

  The boy under Snow Tusk's hoof turned his head as Doc approached. His face drained white.

  Elara stopped beside Doc, arms crossed. She studied the scene for a moment, then glanced at him with something like grudging respect.

  "That wolf of yours could stop a grown man's heart."

  Doc nodded slowly. "Fish can be... intense."

  "Intense," Elara repeated, dry as stone. "That's one word for it."

  They crossed to Tam together. The stable hand looked rattled but unharmed, gripping the edge of the well like it might anchor him.

  "What happened?" Elara asked in a calming tone.

  Tam swallowed hard. "I was drawing water. Heard movement near the wagon. Looked up and saw three of them—trying to open the tailgate." He gestured toward the pinned figures. "I yelled, and they bolted. That's when Fish appeared."

  Elara's jaw tightened. "And Snow Tusk?"

  "Came out of the stable on his own," Tam said. "Went straight for the one in front." He pointed at the boy under the hoof. "Didn't hurt him. Just... stopped him."

  Elara let out a slow breath, then turned to Doc. "You want this reported to the watch?"

  Doc studied the three.

  The boy pinned beneath Snow Tusk was small—wiry build, maybe twelve or thirteen. Dark hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. His coat was two sizes too large, patched at the elbows. His eyes flicked between Doc, Fish, and Snow Tusk, wide with fear.

  Against the wall, a second boy stood rigid. Lighter hair, pale eyes. His coat fit better, and something small glinted inside his jacket.

  The girl beside him was the smallest of the three. Dark skin, braided hair, fingerless gloves worn through at the tips. She watched Fish with the kind of stillness that came from knowing exactly how fast the wolf could move. Her gaze flicked to Doc once, then away.

  Street kids.

  All three of them.

  Doc recognized the look—the too-careful movements, the way they clustered together even now, the worn-through clothes that had been salvaged rather than bought.

  He'd seen it before. Different worlds. Same circumstances.

  Assessment, Lux said quietly. Juveniles. High probability of repeat behavior if released without consequence.

  Doc didn't answer immediately.

  Elara waited, her expression neutral but expectant.

  The boy under Snow Tusk's hoof hadn't looked away. His breathing had steadied.

  Tanna rounded the corner of the stable yard, arms laden with sacks of grain. She paused mid-step, her eyes sweeping across the scene—Fish standing rigid in the center, Snow Tusk pinning a boy to the dirt, two more pressed against the wall like shadows.

  Her expression didn't shift. She tilted her head slightly, then looked directly at Doc.

  "What'd I miss?"

  The tension broke.

  Doc couldn't help it—he laughed, short and genuine. "Nothing much."

  Tanna raised an eyebrow, then carried the grain toward the stable without another word. Snow Tusk's ear flicked in her direction, but the massive goat didn't move.

  Doc turned back to Elara. "You don't need to involve the watch."

  Elara's arms remained crossed, but something in her posture shifted. "You're sure?"

  "I'm sure."

  The boy under Snow Tusk's hoof exhaled, a sharp sound that carried relief.

  Elara studied the three for another moment, then nodded once. "Your call." She stepped back toward the inn, pausing at the threshold. "I'll be inside if you need me."

  Doc waited until the door closed behind her, then looked at the boy pinned beneath Snow Tusk.

  "I'd like to speak with you," Doc said evenly. "All three of you."

  The boy's eyes widened slightly.

  Doc glanced at Fish. "Let them go."

  Fish's hackles lowered. She stepped back, giving the two against the wall space to breathe. Neither moved immediately.

  Doc looked down at Snow Tusk. "You can let him up."

  The Colossagoat snorted once—a low, rumbling sound—then lifted his hoof. The boy scrambled backward, half-rising before freezing again as Doc's gaze settled on him.

  The dark-haired boy's muscles tensed. His weight shifted toward his back foot.

  Doc saw it before it happened.

  "Don't try," Doc said quietly.

  The boy hesitated.

  Doc continued, his tone still calm. "I might not catch you. But Fish can."

  As if on cue, Fish phase-shifted.

  One moment she was in the center of the yard.

  The next, she stood beside the dark-haired boy, close enough that her shoulder nearly brushed his leg. Her violet-traced fur caught the light. Her amber eyes locked onto his.

  The boy went very still.

  Doc nodded slowly. "Follow me."

  He turned and walked toward the inn. He didn't look back to see if they followed.

  Behind him, footsteps scraped against frozen dirt—uneven and reluctant.

  Doc reached the inn door and stopped. He waited.

  The three approached slowly. The dark-haired boy came first. The girl followed a step behind, her expression unreadable. The older boy with pale eyes brought up the rear, fingers twitching near his coat pocket.

  Fish stayed beside them, silent and watchful.

  Doc pulled the door open and gestured inside. "Sit down somewhere. I'll get Elara."

  None of them moved immediately.

  Doc waited.

  Finally, the dark-haired boy stepped through the threshold. The girl followed after a moment's hesitation. The older boy remained on the step, arms crossed, eyes flicking between Doc and Fish.

  Fish looked back at him.

  He went inside.

  Doc followed, letting the door close behind him. The common room was warm after the cold of the yard. Elara was already behind the bar, watching them cross toward the nearest table without a word.

  The dark-haired boy sat first. The girl beside him. The older boy took the end, eyes fixed on the table.

  Doc pulled up a chair across from them.

  "Names," he said simply.

  The dark-haired boy glanced at the other two, then back at Doc. His jaw worked for a moment before he spoke.

  "Kipp."

  The other boy met Doc's gaze next, eyes steady despite the situation.

  "Ren."

  The girl took longer. She bit her lip, amber eyes flicking between her companions before settling on her lap.

  "Maris."

  Doc nodded once, filing the names away. Kipp sat rigid in his chair, shoulders squared like he was bracing for a blow. Ren's hands rested flat on the table, fingers spread wide. Maris kept hers hidden in her lap, hunched forward enough that her oversized coat swallowed her frame.

  Elara appeared at Doc's shoulder, wiping her hands on her apron. She scanned the three children with the care of someone who'd seen their type before.

  Doc caught her eye and gestured toward the kitchen. "Three bowls."

  "Bread?"

  "Please."

  Elara nodded and disappeared.

  The kids noticed. Kipp's eyes tracked Elara's retreat with visible confusion. Ren's fingers twitched against the table. Maris lifted her head slightly, nostrils flaring.

  Doc leaned back in his chair and waited.

  Establishing baseline behavior before introducing variables, Lux noted. Efficient.

  Fish settled at Doc's feet, her violet-marked coat shifting in the dim light.

  The silence stretched.

  Elara returned with three steaming bowls and a basket of bread. She set them down, adding three wooden spoons before retreating to the bar.

  Kipp stared at the bowl like it might bite him. Ren glanced at Doc, then at the food, then back. Maris's eyes stayed locked on the soup.

  Doc gestured toward the bowls. "Go ahead."

  Kipp picked up his spoon with deliberate slowness, as if testing for a trap. He took one careful bite, then another. The third came faster.

  Ren followed suit, maintaining better control but still eating with the focused intensity of someone who'd gone too long between meals.

  Maris waited until both boys were halfway through their bowls before she touched her spoon. When she finally ate, she did so in small, precise bites that didn't quite hide the tremor in her hands.

  Doc watched without comment.

  Prolonged malnutrition indicators present, Lux observed. Estimated three to six months of insufficient caloric intake.

  The bread vanished next. Kipp tore his piece in half and passed one portion to Maris without looking at her. She took it silently.

  Ren finished his soup first and set the spoon down with careful control. His eyes found Doc's and held.

  "Why didn't you call the watch?"

  There it was.

  The honest answer—that he'd seen this before, in places these kids couldn't imagine—was too complicated to explain. They didn't need his history.

  "Because you're not a threat," Doc said simply. "And Fish didn't hurt you."

  Kipp's expression shifted—confusion giving way to something harder to read.

  "That thing could've killed us," Ren said.

  "She could have." Doc glanced down at Fish, who yawned. "She didn't."

  Maris spoke for the first time since giving her name, voice barely above a whisper. "Why not?"

  "Because Fish is usually a good judge of character," Doc said. "And she doesn't think you're bad people. Just hungry kids."

  Kipp's spoon paused halfway to his mouth. Ren's eyes narrowed slightly. Maris kept her gaze fixed on her bowl.

  Doc leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "So why our wagon? Why not someone else's?"

  The question hung in the air for three heartbeats.

  Kipp set down his spoon with careful deliberation. "Didn't think you were here. Scan said three signatures inside. No combat classes." He looked at the table. "Couldn't detect the wolf."

  Doc smiled faintly. "Fish can be surprising at times."

  Adaptive camouflage integration functioning as designed, Lux observed. Her phase-state capabilities obscure conventional detection methods.

  Ren spoke next, his tone more measured than Kipp's. "The enchantments on your wagon are expensive. We figured you had coin to spare."

  "And you needed coin," Doc said.

  Silence.

  Doc shifted his weight, glancing at the empty bowls. "Where are you staying?"

  Kipp's expression went carefully neutral. Ren looked away. Maris hunched lower.

  "Streets," Kipp finally said.

  Doc's jaw tightened. He'd expected the answer but didn't like hearing it confirmed. Three kids—sleeping rough in a northern city during winter.

  He stood. "Keep eating. I'll be back."

  Fish rose with him, trailing at his heels as he crossed the common room toward the bar. Elara looked up from wiping down mugs, her expression patient.

  "Need something?"

  "Extra room," Doc said quietly. "For three."

  Elara set down her towel, studying him with the careful assessment of someone who'd made harder calls. "Rooms are spoken for. Could use the attic if you're serious."

  "I am."

  "Then I have to ask." Elara folded her arms. "Are you willing to take responsibility for them?"

  Doc thought about Calen. About the scared kid who'd once guided them through the Hollow Vale—half-convinced Doc would kill him the moment he stopped being useful. Calen had needed someone to take a chance on him. These three probably needed the same thing.

  "Someone should," Doc said.

  Elara raised an eyebrow "You've known them ten minutes."

  "I know,"

  Elara studied him for a long moment, then exhaled. "They’re your problem now. They'll need bedding. I'll have Tam bring up blankets."

  "Thank you."

  Elara waved him off. "Don't thank me yet. You're feeding them too."

  Doc returned to the table. Three pairs of eyes tracked his approach—wary, uncertain, waiting for the other boot to drop.

  He sat down. "Finish your food. You're staying here tonight."

  Kipp stiffened. "What's the catch?"

  "No catch."

  "Nobody does that," Ren said quietly.

  Doc met his gaze. "I do."

  Kipp looked at him for a long moment. Then he picked up his spoon and went back to eating.

  Thanks for reading!

  Chapter 86 drops friday!