"Hey, Artie! I need to talk to you about something!"

The door to Arthur's room flung open violently, and the vial he was holding slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor. Luckily, it was empty, but that still meant he had one less receptacle for holding mixtures. Sealed jars of strangely-glowing liquids sat idly on the desk, and six long hairs, three from Matthew and three he'd plucked off of Francis' pillows, were laying nicely on either side. He turned slowly to see the bearer of his misfortune. Arthur furrowed his monstrous brows and took another vial from the pocket dimension in his traveling bag.

"What is it? I'm terribly busy right now." He turned back to his work. An unopened book was resting on his lap. He reached into the bag again and pulled out a tiny gold key on a chain.

"What're you doing?"

"Nothing that concerns you. Now out with it. What is so important that you need to interrupt me? I judge you can infer that when a man's chamber door is closed, he doesn't want to be bothered."

Alfred strode over to the desk. "Hey, it's nice and warm in here. So I know you probably won't want to talk about it at first, but it's about your little interest in dark magic."

"Leave me," Arthur said offhandedly. He waved his hand behind him to shoo away the unwanted guest.

"Hear me out, okay? It's important. It's about our mission, anyway. It's Messy Hand stuff."

"Leave me," he said slightly louder.

"Dude, are you even listening?"

Arthur huffed. "Why would you need to request counsel on such a thing? You're a natural with that kind of magic, aren't you?" He didn't look at Alfred. Rather, the hand he had used to shoo him was gesticulating wildly while he clutched a jar full of pomegranate juice with the other.

"Not at everything. And this isn't about casting spells. It's about diagnosing them. I think Feliciano's under one."

Arthur didn't reply, so he continued, "In the city, I ended up having lunch with him and the dog-man. I spun a few lies here and there, made it sound like I'm just a nice human schoolboy. Then, all of a sudden, he just started talking really weird. And it could've been a trick of the light, but I thought his eyes looked darker for a second."

"Why would you qualify his speech as 'weird?'"

"You wanna talk now?"

"If it will get you to go away. This project requires much focus and precision."

"Well, from what I can deduce, you're makin' a potion, and that's a branch o' dark magic. Is it the same one you used to make your ears round?"

Arthur slammed the juice on the desk. "Blast! How did you know?"

"I didn't until just now." Alfred smiled cheekily. "I know how to get people to talk. Aren't you not s'posed to be doing this anymore since you were arrested n' all?"

"I was not allowed to do it even before my sentence, so it hardly matters."

"Artie, tell me what you did. Please?"

"You tell me about Feliciano. That's what you came in here for."

"Dodge me all you want, but I'll find out what you did someday. Anyway, we were talking, and I asked them what they were doing in Amotoile, and they told me they were looking for a treasure. So I casually asked what kind of a treasure it was, and they told me a magic amulet. Boring stuff. We already know that.

"Okay, listen to this, twice the subject came up of how the amulet is supposedly Feliciano's inheritance because it belonged to his grandfather. But both times he just dismissed this and said he was, hm, 'I'm giving the amulet to Doggie out of the goodness of my heart because I agreed.' That's what he sounded like. Doesn't that sound off to you? He usually sounds pretty straightforward, and that's a mouthful. It sounded almost like he was trying to ward off any further questions. And he sounded a little uncertain in what he said. Both times he used that phrase, 'out of the goodness of my heart.' I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure it's either coercion or magic, and seeing as the two of them seem to be such good friends, I'm going for magic."

"What did his eyes look like?"

"Kinda dark. The stardust dimmed a little bit. Do you think he's possessed?"

"Hardly. If he were possessed, the one in possession would be able to have freedom and make him sound more natural. If this is magic at all, it's mind-meddling, and unfortunately, I don't know too much about that branch."

"Mind-meddling, huh? Someone's altered his memories?"

"Possibly. My guess is that someone planted those words in his subconscious and he's being forced to say them and believe them even though he doesn't know why he believes them. That would explain his uncertainty."

"Forcing him to believe he doesn't want his own inheritance? This is so not cool."

"Wait a minute," Arthur said. He put the book on his desk and stood up to face his guest. "I remember something. Do that impression again, Alfred. Make it as accurate as you can remember."

Alfred stood pensive for a few seconds before snapping his fingers and squinting his eyes. He hung his body frivolously in the air. Then, he sort of slumped forward, and the frivolity abated. "I'm giving the amulet to Doggie out of the goodness of my heart because I agreed," he said in Feliciano's voice. Arthur nodded slowly. There was something off about it, and it matched his suspicion.

"You weren't there, but back when Francis and I were talking to him and trying to convince him to come to our side, he spoke to us in the same manner. His voice was somewhat mechanical, repetitive, words perfected and hardly dragging. He said we were liars and that he wouldn't listen to us. And he said the exact same thing. 'Goodness of my heart. I'm giving Doggie the amulet because I agreed.' You'd think he'd change it up, but that's what he said. And you said he told you the same thing twice in a row."

"He's got a spell on him. I bet that's why you couldn't convince him."

"We couldn't! We showed him the letter and explained our intentions, but he called us liars. It's like his mind was an impenetrable wall to contradictory information."

"So that means we can't convince him unless the spell is broken. We can't drill it into his head. He won't listen."

"We'd need to know what kind of spell it is. I wish I knew more. Perhaps this can tell us." He gestured to the book on the desk.

Alfred cocked an eyebrow. "That's a bookkeeping journal."

"No it's not," Arthur said, his voice dripping with haughty mischief.

"It says so right on the cover." Alfred picked up the book and started flipping through. Faded scribbling jumped out at him. Accounts opened and closed. Merchandise sold and returned. Inventory updates. Accounts receivable and payable. Assets less liabilities and net worth. "What is this?"

"Give it here." Arthur took the book back. "You're good at keeping secrets, aren't you? Swear it."

Alfred's right hand snapped up. "I solemnly swear that I'm up to—"

"Don't give me that. Be serious."

"'Kay, fine. I won't tell anyone about your secrets, but you gotta tell 'em to me first."

Arthur sighed. "There was a time almost a year ago now when I knew I was done for. Knowledge of my doings had been… 'leaked,' per se, and no matter how much I did or said to cover it up, I knew I would be apprehended. The evidence was too blatant to point to anyone else. Everything would be taken from me. So I created a safeguard."

He took the key he'd been fiddling with and inserted it into a little gold lock affixed to the cover of the journal. He turned, and his eyes sparkled. The book changed. It grew into a tome, and the old, fraying cover metamorphosed into a hard, black leather binding. The title vanished to be replaced simply by F.A.K. in venomous green letters. The yellowed pages repaired themselves. The book was new and fresh. Arthur picked it up with effort; it was impossibly heavy. He gave it to Alfred, who opened it to a random page.

"Potions," Alfred remarked.

"I compiled my entire dark library into this book and disguised it as a simple old forgotten journal. The Council wankers glanced right over it. I still have every bit of information I need. Granted, it's rather hard to find what I'm looking for when I use it, and I'm under so much scrutiny that I haven't read it much or used any of its knowledge since then, but my original books have long since been destroyed."

"Sneaky dark magician."

Arthur groaned. "I have my… interests. That doesn't mean I'm like you. That doesn't mean I'd regularly associate with people like you. That doesn't mean I aspire to be anything like you at all."

"Yeesh, you've told me that like a million times. You're a noble lord and I'm the 'dark beast' who haunts you in your dreams. Now quit griping. How do we use this thing?"

Arthur took the book back, and his back popped under its weight. He slammed it on the bed and opened to the first page. "It's somewhat organized. Here, the table of contents." He brought his finger down spidery lines of ink. Instead of chapters and page numbers, they were the titles of books and documents he'd taken and put into the compilation. Everything from Advanced, Arduous Alchemy to Classic Tales of the Dark Fae was listed.

Arthur had to look closer. The name of a potion cookbook, (which he remembered to be particularly thin yet highly helpful in the information it gave,) was marked in green ink, as it was the title he had been looking at most recently and the one the magic book currently embodied. He'd scrawled fresh notes in its pages just the previous night. The table of contents stretched for several pages. He looked for anything related to mind-meddling, hoping this wouldn't take too much of his time.

"What's that one?" Alfred asked right in Arthur's ear. Arthur recoiled and clamped a hand over the offended organ. The changeling was pointing to a title he'd recently glanced over, Classic Tales of the Dark Fae.

Arthur simply scoffed at Alfred's interest. "It's a storybook for children. Funny how I saw the original copy among the things taken from the manor. It's hardly dangerous, but I suppose a poem from it is partly how I was able to deduce your true nature."

"Really? What else does it say? I wanna read it."

"We don't have time for that," Arthur snapped, but the book had reacted to Alfred's touch and voice, and the new title lit up in green ink. Alfred nudged the book's owner over and flipped through illustrated pictures of pale, ugly fairies and frozen, screaming children. He giggled.

"Is this really the kind of thing you tell the little chilluns about? They're gonna get stolen and eaten if they don't respect their parents and say please and thank you? I mean, it's got some truth to it since naughty kids are easier to imitate, but what a weird form of teaching manners! Threatening kids!" He shrieked with laughter at one illustration: a baby in a cradle with the face and beard of a grown man, its tiny mouth full of sharp, crooked teeth. "Oh, dude, you have to let me borrow this thing! It's too funny!" He flipped another page. His laughter dimmed, as the illustration was a lot more serious than comical. It was a picture of a full moon reflecting on water, and in the foreground was a hollowed tree. The wording was pithy; it was a poem.

"Darkness with light, together as one
the blood of a faerie, a new thread is spun.
A full moon is risen, its shadow is cast
through forest and dale to a tree of the past
Though deadened and bare, its trunk hollow still
It can create life, through moonlight and spill
When three come together, moon, shadow, and blood,
A dark faerie rises to burgeon and bud."

Alfred cocked his head to the side. He appeared to be contemplating the meaning of the poem and its significance. He touched the painted moon and traced its light to the dead, hollowed tree. In the tree's shadow was a dark, moist patch of earth.

"Full moonlight, a dead tree's shadow and fairy blood?" Alfred said quizzically.

"Erm, they're supposedly the ingredients needed to trigger the birth of a changeling," Arthur explained. "It's just a story. I know nothing of its credibility. I've never witnessed such an event."

"I've heard it before. Mathias told me. In his country, Hejgrund, they call us 'Shadowborns.' Seems a little off to me, though. I'm definitely made of shadows, but the moonlight and blood thing is just creepy." He smiled incredulously. "They call you guys 'elves.' Not fairies. Elves. 'Cause fairies have wings."

Arthur ignored this strange notion and turned once again to the table of contents. After another few minutes, he found a book explaining some basics of mind-meddling. He skimmed paragraphs, looking for anything that matched Feliciano's ailment. "Our problem is that we don't know what spell was used or who cast it."

"Who did cast it?" Alfred wondered. "Luddy doesn't seem like the wizarding type, and Feliciano couldn't cast it on himself since he's winged." His face suddenly darkened. "The enemy," he said. "The dark wizard. Ludwig's brother. He did it. He wants to play dirty. Stay out of the scene. He's crooked, whoever he is."

"A good inference," Arthur said. "Logically, the dark wizard would stay in touch with Ludwig. It could very well be he who did this."

"He's clever, I suppose, but you know what they say. No one's more clever than a changeling." He smiled proudly and crossed his arms. "Anyway, I should probably tell you since you weren't downstairs earlier. I'm going to the fountain at the center of town at sunset. Feliciano's going to be using this kind of summoning magic he thinks'll make the amulet appear. Francis kept warning me about this incense they burn, but I'll be fine. D'ya wanna come with me?"

Arthur closed the magic book and sat up on the bed. "What are you planning?"

"I dunno. It depends on if his summoning spell actually works. I thought that if he actually makes the amulet appear, I could snatch it. Then we'd just have it and we'd give it back to Feliciano once we find out how to break the spell so he wants it again."

"And if he doesn't summon the amulet as planned?"

"Then we'd be at a loss, I guess, but we should be there. He sounded really confident that this summoning spell would work. I should be there, anyway. I said I would. I got on their good side. You could be my backup. Who knows? Maybe we could even kidnap somebody. Feliciano again, or maybe Ludwig. We'll have to kidnap Feliciano eventually if we want to try and break the spell."

"Really? Kidnapping Ludwig? How do you think we'd contain him once he transforms?"

"I'm just throwing it out there. You don't have to take everything so seriously, you know."

Arthur closed his eyes. "If you're going, I might as well go too. This only reminds me of the last time you went somewhere by yourself. You at least need a supervisor. And what did Francis say about this incense? Is it magical?"

"Some kinna anti-dark-creature incense. I can't remember the name of it. They don't even start burning it until it gets dark, so we should have plenty of time. If we don't, we can always find some place private and I'll transform into an eagle to make my getaway. No harm done."

"You will transform into a sparrow, and I will put you in my pocket and take you out of the city myself."

"If we can find one, sure. We should leave soon. It'll take us a little bit to get into the city 'cause we have to find a place where you can part the salt ring inconspicuously. Then we'll have to navigate to the fountain, which could take some time."

"I'm still working on this project. First you interrupt me, and now you expect me to go with you."

"Well, then I'm leaving without a supervisor. I have to sneak out, anyway. Francy's being all stingy with the information I gave him. He thinks I'll get sick or something if I go, but I was like, 'Dude, it's just smelly stuff. As long as I get out before nightfall and don't snort it, I should be fine.' 'Course, he's trying to be all protective. I don't blame 'im, but I still have to go. I didn't sign up for idleness. I came here to be a hero, and I'm not letting the dog-man and the dark wizard get away with this."

Arthur looked into Alfred's passionate blue eyes and then to the desk. He couldn't tarry too long. The pale-amber and platinum hairs lay hopeful as the centerpiece of his current work. He would need to make both the potion to change Matthew and the antidote to change him back. The antidote wasn't as important in the moment, but even making the potion would require alertness. Still, Alfred could no longer be trusted on his own. Francis was surely going to the fountain thinking Alfred was not, and Arthur's guess was that Alfred would try to evade the knight's wandering eyes and do whatever foolish thing came into his self-possessed mind.

"Fine," Arthur sulked. "I'll go, but we need to see your brother first. I need to be unseen."

"You need to be Unseen? Why do you need to be a Homoalces? Is that the kind of potion you're making? You're not going to drink Mattie's blood, are you?"

"No, you dolt, I need to be unseen, lowercase. Your brother has a store of Invisibility Dust. Obviously, I can't show myself when I've already been bashed by Feliciano's accusations. I'll need to be invisible. You, of course, can show yourself."

"Oh, well how am I supposed to see you, then?"

"You won't, but you'll still hear me."

Alfred seemed skeptical of this, but he did think it was a good idea for Arthur to be invisible. Perhaps then, he remarked, Arthur could create a diversion so Alfred could take the amulet, and then they could make a break for it.

"Let's just see if he can actually summon the amulet first," Arthur said.

"You want some of my dust?" Matthew said. He cocked his head quizzically at the two small people before him.

"Just a smidge. We'll only need it for an hour at most. I can't be showing myself to the quarry after that cock up of a kidnapping," Arthur replied. And anyway, this way I won't have to round out my ears or dress like a human.

"Okay, as long as you're careful with it. It's very strong." Matthew rummaged through his shoulderbag, and after spying the desired item, he brought it up out of the bag with his overlarge teeth. It was a pouch made of purple velvet drawn closed. He took it in his hand and reached down to give it to Arthur. "If you only need it for an hour, I'd probably just take a sliver. Dissolve some in water and drink it quickly."

"Can I try this sometime?" Alfred asked.

"If you need it," Matthew said softly. "So what exactly do you need it for, Arthur?"

Before Arthur could even reply, Alfred blasted into his account of the day and described what he'd learned through his excellent subterfuge. He then explained his suspicion about Feliciano being under a spell and how Arthur thought someone could be meddling with his mind and putting words in his mouth. From there, he boldly told Matthew about an escapade into the heart of the city, perhaps into danger, to retrieve the amulet before the others could.

"I need to come along to make sure Alfred doesn't do anything rash," Arthur said in a rare synapse of Alfred's confident monologue.

"Nah, I'm not rash. I just do what needs to be done."

"Says the idiot who picked a fight with the dog-man."

"Excuse me milord, but if you were in a weak body that hardly weighs anything and a monster with teeth as thick as your pinky pinned you to the ground, wouldn't you do the same thing?"

"Of course not. I'd stun him and make my escape with the wand in my hand. Nothing lost, something gained."

"I'm just glad you were still alive," Matthew whispered, "but I have to agree it was a very foolhardy thing to do."

"It sure was fun, though. You guys'll never understand."

"I don't want to understand," Arthur said.

"I won't have to," Matthew said with a hint of humor. "The dog-man couldn't pin me to the ground. I could knock him down with one kick." He lifted a front leg and nudged Alfred playfully in the knee with his hoof.

"We'll see where this adventure leads us. Maybe one o' you will be in a similar position." Alfred turned and looked off in the distance away from the chateau. "You ready, Arthur?"

"I suppose so. Let's get this over with. Like I said, I have to finish that project upstairs." He gave a furtive glance to Matthew and winked. The Homoalces grinned humbly and shifted on his hooves. Arthur mouthed 'wait for me' to his subject before Alfred yanked him away and the two started on toward the salt ring.

"Knock… ring… knock… knock… letters through your… black-and-white cat!"

"Shut up already!"

"You don't like my singing?"

Arthur didn't reply. They had reached the salt ring, its beautiful and intimidating majesty like a grainy white streak of paint left on the earth by a giant. The outer edge was decorated by bits of scrap iron and little savory-smelling leaves. He knelt down and stroked the surface. It sifted through his fingers. Just regular table salt. Not deadly or poisonous. Ordinary.

"Hey, check this out," Alfred said. Arthur looked up. Alfred was leaning on… nothing. His body was at an angle, and his weight rested on the air like a cushion. Arthur noticed that just below the cushion of air was the edge of the salt ring, mundane yet brooding.

"It's like a wall," he continued. He came out of his lean and put two hands up in front of him, then pushed. They cut through the air until they came to where the barrier started. His hands stopped. Alfred pushed and dug his feet into the ground, but his hands would go no further. The salt brought about an invisible, intangible resistance, intolerant to the darkness in his blood. There was not even a distortion in the air to mark its presence.

Not deterred and willing to test its limits, Alfred reeled back one fist and moving like a blur, threw a powerful punch at the barrier. There was no sound as his knuckles struck nothingness. No shimmer signifying the barrier had been pained. Alfred recoiled. His hand shook and his knuckles were red as if he had just punched a brick wall. He shoved them in his mouth, then kicked at the barrier. Nothing he did would go past. He even removed his glasses and pressed his face against it. His cheeks squished up on invisible glass.

Arthur couldn't help himself. He let out a small chortle at this absurd display. "I'm surprised simple salt works so well!" He laughed. "On the Isle of Rain, we've resorted to using more complex, magical wards around our houses and villages. But the ancient, simple salt ward hasn't lost its touch I see." Alfred was rearing up to headbutt the ring's rim when Arthur had to stop the jest. "Don't hurt yourself. I can assume that you already tried worse tactics this morning."

Then, curious, Arthur held a hand in front of him like Alfred had done and pushed it toward the barrier. Unsurprisingly, it slid straight through the air over the salt. He felt no resistance to his presence at all. He smiled and closed his eyes smugly. Alfred threw himself against the barrier to watch wide-eyed.

And then he felt it. Arthur's eyes snapped open again. The air around his hand suddenly felt thick and viscous. He pushed further, but it was getting harder. He shoved his other hand over the salt. At first, it was the same, and then there was the same sensation of the air simply congealing and pressing in on his hand from all sides.

"What's this?" He questioned. The air didn't get any thicker, but it was hard to flex his hands with the resistance all around them. Arthur pulled his hands out with some difficulty. There was nothing on them except small vestiges of pressure tingling in different places. He again took one hand and moved it toward the barrier. When the salt started, he pushed forcefully. Again, nothingness, and then the thickness and pressure. His hand was squeezed and prodded forward and backward.

"It's almost solid," he remarked. "Why am I feeling a resistance? I shouldn't be feeling anything."

Alfred looked pensive. "It might be confused," he said. "Maybe it senses that you're both light and dark, so it doesn't know what do. Let you in or keep you out."

Arthur scoffed. "I am most definitely a light fairy."

The changeling smirked. "Then what was the potion for? And your secret book? And why did you get arrested and put under so much scrutiny? What did you do that was so dark?"

"I retain my right to privacy. Anyway, at least it can sense some light magic in me. What did Francis do for you this morning? Just swish some out of the way so you could slide through?"

"I'll tell you if you tell me your secret. Come on. No one's around. Just you and me. Tell me what you did. I won't tell anyone. We're best friends, right?"

"Since when?"

"I saved your life."

"You also ate my breakfast."

"Touché, and it was delicious."

Arthur put his foot out over the salt ring and started pushing the granules to each side. The congealing pressure wavered and pressed in. It soon became hard to move further without being slowly pushed to the edge of the ring. However, each time he cleared some salt away, the pressure would release and he could move further. It took a good twenty minutes before he had created a pathway through the salt that would be satisfactory to accommodate his companion. Arthur slipped out of the path on the other side and beckoned for Alfred. He squeezed through the tight space and popped out past the ring just before he tripped on his pant leg and knocked into Arthur. Both of them tumbled down in a heap.

"Next time, we're coming with a human," Alfred groaned.

And Arthur agreed.