Autumn arrived once the last days of summer faded away. Mao found out through trial and error that his magical mask from the Masked Man did- Nothing… Oh he’d tried to make it do things alright. He’d worn it in secret in the kitchen nook while Josei worked at the store front. Then he’d snuck outside, hid in an alleyway, and put it on. Still nothing.

He’d worn it while climbing around the city, no luck. While fishing with Tobby and Katja, while going to the market with his mom. At dawn, at dusk, even while he was sleeping! It had given him funny dreams but that was about it. No flying, no extra speed while running, not even the ability to understand what Tulip was always clucking about.

Mao had been so disappointed that he threw it off the wall from his favorite secret spot by the ancient cherry tree. It had disappeared into the fields below and he’d regretted it immediately. Then when he went home he found the mask again waiting on his pillow, as pristine as always.

It was an ornate wooden mask, painted white as a base and then decorated with a stylish smiling fox face. Red lips, slanted eyes nearly closed shut in mirth, and whiskers that ended in tiny spirals. It wasn’t magical at all… or so it seemed.

After it had so mysteriously reappeared after he threw it away… Mao got a hunch. He threw it into the river one day. It reappeared next to him while he was enjoying a snack at a bench by the school. He’d thought about wearing it to class but decided against it. He didn’t want the noble kids to stare and think he was weird. Masks were mostly just worn during times of celebration. Or during plays. It made him stand out if he wore it too often and he didn’t like the stares it attracted.

Playing with the mask got boring eventually. Mao had better things to do.

He continued to be a secret guest at Jåhn Bok’s school lectures. He learned a lot of fun things, many boring things, and some amazing things. Like the fact that cats hated the smell of citrus fruits. He’d badgered Josei into buying him an orange from a traveling merchant at the market, then he’d snuck it with him when they went to the cookery the next day.

“Katja?” He asked the cook after sneaking into the kitchen. Josei was busy gossiping with some of the farmers.

“Yes sweetie?” Katja smiled down at the boy. He gave her an innocent grin.

“I have something cool to show you.”

“Oh? And what might tha’ be eh?”

Mao had looked around to make sure no one else was paying attention to his scheme, then he’d crooked a finger at Katja, beckoning her to lean closer.

“Oooh a secret is it? Well I’ll play game. Watcha got, kiddo?”

He might have eaten half of the expensive fruit the same morning… but the other half was still fresh and wonderfully smelly. He’d waited until Katja’s head was level with his own, crouching in a most inconspicuous manner in the corner of the kitchen. Not suspicious at all, no sir.

Then he pulled the orange half from his pocket and held it up to her nose. She just blinked at first, face locked in a curious smile as she eyed the secret prize. Then she blinked again. Her eyes narrowed, tears sprung into them. Her nose crinkled something fierce and her upper lip pulled back into a surprised grimace.

“What’s that- by Mother Wolf’s teats getthatawayfromme!”

She jerked back like she’d been struck, gagged, and ran out of the kitchen with a hiss. The other cooks stopped to stare and Mao just gaped. Then he broke out into a cackle and stuffed the rest of the orange into his mouth.

That’s how Mao learned his first oath, and as was the nature of children anywhere, the oath soon spread like wildfire through the local youngling population of Redlog. It just took them hearing it once and a kid liked to show off their new forbidden adult word, so of course Mao showed it off. No amount of scolding, serious talks, or punishment from the collective population of parents living in Redlog could stop the spread.

If you stayed up at night you could sometimes hear it yelled at the top of some kid’s tiny lungs.

“BY MOTHER WOLF’S-.... BY- BY HER TEATS!!!”

Everyone hated that. Except for the kids. It was a wonderfully fun time for Mao. Josei scolded Katja more than anyone else for letting it slip near her boy. But then as with all good times, it ended. Tragedy reared its ugly head once more and even the new oath wasn’t enough to keep the cheer going.

Children started going missing again. It only happened on moonless nights, times when the clouds were too thick or the moon simply wasn’t there. It laid a hush over the streets of Redlog.

Tobby’s leg had healed by now but neither he nor Mao got to visit the forest alone anymore, not with people their age disappearing without a trace. Josei or Katja or both always accompanied them. Mostly Katja because Josei’s daily energy was waning. The trip down and up the mountain, the trek through the woods, it was starting to become a little too much for her. The fiery colors of her hair tended more and more towards grey these days, possibly because of the stress.

Katja remained ever young, as vibrant as the day Mao had first met her. No one else seemed to notice that, which he attributed to her being a secret wild one. Not one of the wild ones… but a beast in human skin for sure. A striped orange cat with two tails. Mao saw her shift into her true form once, just once.

It was during a late visit to the cookery. Josei had run out of milk in the middle of baking, so they’d gone to pick some up. Mao had seen Katja swing her legs over the edge of one of the windows on the back of the building, the side that had a steep drop down to the roofs of the level below it and little else.

Josei had either been too distracted or it had been too dark or… or it was that because of the way people had a tendency to look away when something magical happened. They weren’t aware of it, it just happened. Magic wasn’t seen by normal people unless it wanted to be.

Katja had dropped down before Mao could yell at her to stop, worried she’d break something from the fall. She fell, and in a blur she shrank. What landed was the cat, orange with red stripes, two tails waving in the chilly wind. They’d met eyes for a moment and Katja had frozen. Mao had stared… then put on his fox mask. He always had it with him these days, either hanging from a little belt Josei had made for him, or in a pack on his back.

Seeing him with the mask had made the cat grin. It ran off into the dark without a sound, a lazy, confident trot. This city had more secrets than the little boy could imagine. If only he had a powerful secret himself, then he could make right all that was wrong in this place. Mao tried to help with the missing children’s case despite just being a regular boy. He was just a little bit bitter about it. What good was it to have been a gift from Mother Wolf, to have a special mask given to him by the Mask Maker at midsummer, to be able to see the animals pretending to be human when they let their guard down… if it didn’t give he himself some awesome power. Mao felt terribly jealous about it all, but he did what he could.

He convinced Josei to bring him to the Hunters’ Guild, a two story building just one level beneath Peak Street . Red and black banners hung from the beams supporting the second floor, forming a kind of tunnel. It was a common decoration for Redlog, with it’s plentiful sunflax harvests and the soft linen made from their fibers, but the red and black banners had something ominous about them.

Two hunters stood on guard outside, much like how the watch guarded places of interest in the rest of the city. They’d been friendly despite their scarred and gruff faces.

The inside of the guild building was surpringly cozy. They had an open hearth on the ground floor that crackled in a homely way. A counter desk sat next to the door with a tall bookshelf behind it. A set of armor on a stand stood between the shelf and a set of stairs leading up the second floor. Josei had nervously told the hunter on desk duty about Mao wanting to give information to help find the missing children. To Josei’s surprise, the hunter had listened to the small boy with a surprising amount of seriousness. She even took notes!

Then they’d been sent upstairs to repeat the information to the headmaster himself, a silvery old man named Ulven Jägare. He had a neatly trimmed beard, silver eyes- a scar over the left, and a smatter of black and dark grey mixed with his silvery hair. Josei had called it ‘salt and pepper’, later when Mao asked about the color mix.

Mao told the headmaster about the Masked Man. He felt as if the meeting should have stayed a secret, but the urge to help was growing stronger each day the children stayed unfound, and this was the only thing he could think of that might be relevant to the case.

“I see… We do have a history with him,” the headmaster said.

Mao sat up in his seat. He got a chair of his own next to Josei. They were treating him like an adult! It made the gravity of the situation all the heavier. Joseit did not like what she was hearing if the worried frown she wore was anything to go by.

“Is he dangerous?” She asked. Ulven weighed the question over before answering.

“Not necessarily. He’s an oddity for sure, but very… focused. He does what he does and has very little interest in what others think about it.”

At Josei’s worried frown, the headmaster smiled. “I have a mask of my own from him, so I wouldn’t worry.” He made a nod towards the mask hanging from Mao’s belt. The boy started. Josei just blinked.

“Really? Can I see it?” Mao asked, suddenly eager. Maybe Ulven could teach him how it worked! The headmaster chuckled and, to his disappointment, shook his head.

“It disappeared some time ago I’m afraid. But I wouldn’t worry about losing yours. Little buggers have a talent for finding their way back to their owners. They’re near impossible to steal. Still, keep it close.”

“What does it do?” Josei asked the question burning in Mao’s mind before he could voice it himself. He looked at his mother, then to the headmaster, ears sharp and hungry for the answer he’d been chasing since midsummer.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.” At their visible disappointment the hunter added, “Each is different. I suspect mine left once I didn’t need it anymore… or maybe I just stopped taking it off and it just…” Ulven made a flickering motion with his fingers, as if masks tended to just go up in smoke all willy nilly. Mao kept frowning.

“But back to what you told me, Mao. Are you certain the Mask Maker said that it was the elves that abducted the missing children?”

Mao’s heart ached. He nodded glumly, skin prickling. The headmaster leaned back in his seat with a tired sigh, suddenly looking older. “Damned luck that, pardon the poor language.” Ulven gave Josei an apologetic nod. For once, Mao didn’t pay attention to the oath, even if it was a mild one.

“Can you get them back?” he asked instead, fearing he already knew the answer. The Mask Maker had taken them away rather than return them to their parents. He’d seemed almost… sad, for all that the headmaster claimed the artist didn’t care much.

Ulven just looked at the young boy, eyes resigned and old. Josei placed her hand on Mao’s. It was shaking slightly.

“With hope and luck, we might be able to keep any other children from being taken. Thank you for telling us, Mao.” Ulven tried to smile to reassure the boy, but Mao felt as if something cold had settled down in chest.

They left with heavy hearts, feeling the gloom of autumn twice as deeply in their bones on their way home. Josei closed the shop early, made tea, and spent the day comforting Mao. It was a dark time for the people of Redlog. Darker yet as the colors of autumn faded away.

Winter came like a whisper, a cold hand closing around your throat. It made the air smell like frost, and turned the streets slick with rainwater that turned into dangerous frost during the mornings and late nights. Snow settled on Peak Street but failed to go much lower. The Maple Woods lost their leaves and the redwood trees shivered.

Mao snuck out during the days to enjoy the fewer and fewer hours of sunlight. Josei let him, mostly because he promised to be home before dark when she caught him in the door.

He was sitting on a low wall on School Street, feet dangling over the edge as he kicked them back and forth. He had his fox mask in his lap. The narrow eye slits stared back at him. He made to throw it, but a sound made him freeze. Someone was approaching him. Mao could smell who before he heard the voice.

“Hello Mao! What’re you doing? You didn’t come to school this morning.”

It was Joseph. The noble son took a moment to get up on the wall, still unused to climbing as swiftly as the commoner kids. Mao showed him the mask. Joseph stared at it.

“I’ve seen you carrying it around. Why?”

“It was a gift.”

“Oh. Nice.” Perhaps Joseph could hear Mao’s low mood in the way he responded, because the noble sat down and grew somber.

They sat in silence for a bit. Joseph broke it by fumbling with a pouch hanging from his belt. Mao glanced over and was surprised to see Joseph pull up a small, smooth stone with a hole through the middle. It was dark like coal and smelled… bad.

“What’s that?” he asked. Joseph grinned and held it up. He’d looped a bit of string through the hole so he could hang it around his neck. There were tiny runes drawn in dark red on the stone’s surface. It smelled like mold.

“Mister Bok gave it to me. Everyone in the secret class got one.”

“I thought it was random who got to stay during the secret classes.” Mao frowned. Joseph shook his head.

“Not anymore. Lots of the noble kids are in it, but a few commoners too. It’s a much bigger group now.”

“Cool…” Mao’s heart wasn’t really in it. Joseph bit his lip.

“Wanna see what it does?” he asked. Mao peered at the stone.

“What could a stone do?”

“I’ll show you- but it’s a secret so you can’t tell anyone.”

Mao felt a hint of curiosity trying to replace his sour mood. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Promise?” Joseph’s eyes glittered with anticipation. Mao felt himself perking up, dark mood fading at last.

“I promise.”

Satisfied, Joseph grabbed the stone with both hands. He rubbed it while leaning over it, whispering what sounded like a nonsense rhyme.

“Burn burn burn, little Nidhög stone, churn churn churn, little piece of bone.”

The stone lit up, just slightly. A faint red glow that made the glossy surface glitter. Mao gaped at it in wonder.

“It’s magic,” Joseph breathed the word, eyes glittering with wonder. He let Mao hold the stone and the boy felt that it was warm, like a little ember. The air stunk around it though. He almost missed what Joseph said while inspecting the curious little treasure.

“What?” Mao asked, tearing his eyes off the magical stone at last.

“The mask, can I try it on?” the noble child asked. He was eyeing it with the same curiosity Mao had for the stone. Someone at the back of Mao’s head told him he shouldn’t agree, but he still did it. He gave the mask to Joseph and the noble took it carefully, eyes shining. He gently touched the delicate painted patterns.

“It’s pretty. Who gave it to you?” Joseph lifted the mask and eyed the inside. It was smooth and without details. He put it on as Mao answered.

“Just a… friend. I think. It isn’t special. It-” Joseph’s gasp cut him off.

“I can smell everything! And see in the dark!”

Mao blinked. He looked around. It wasn’t dark out yet. The sun had just set a little while ago. It was still… He stared at Joseph as the noble looked around, awe in his trembling hands. Something bitter rose in Mao’s throat.

“It’s not dark yet. It’s not special.” He felt his anger rising for some reason. It felt wrong to see Joseph wearing his mask. The noble didn’t notice, he was too busy sniffing the air.

“Lies! I can smell- I can smell what they’re baking in the cookery nearby! And I can hear the chickens from Peak Street!”

Mao frowned in confusion. Something was gnawing at him, telling him to take the mask back now. “Everyone can.”

This time it was Joseph’s turn to frown. He turned to stare at Mao, pale green eyes bright behind the mask’s eye slits. Mao got angry.

Without warning, he tore the mask off Joseph’s face and tossed it down from the wall. It hit the ground with a thud, bounced, then rolled down the street and down a set of stairs, out of sight. Joseph gaped in shock, hurt. Mao didn’t care.

“It’s not special! It doesn't do anything! You’re just trying to be nice! It’s not like your magical rock!”

He nearly threw the rock too. He was so angry that he- he stared at the rock. It felt like holding something wet, slimy. Mao hated it. Hated that it was special. Hated that his gift from the Masked Man hadn’t been anything like it. He tossed the stone at Joseph and jumped down from his perch.

The noble yelled after him as he ran down the street, eyes burning with tears. Why did he have to be so jealous?

-

Joseph and Mao didn’t speak to each other for a while. At first Mao had refused to, but then he felt too awkward to seek his old friend out to apologize, worried he couldn’t be forgiven. Time went as he struggled with figuring out how to mend this rift in their friendship.

Winter was here.

There was no cheer in the air this time of year. There should have been, but more children went missing. A rift was opening in Redlog, separating the already hurting people. The missing children were from the Red Light District. The nobles didn’t care because none of their own had been taken. Their children demanded Jul, that festive season of cheer and light in the middle of the darkest hours of winter, but the grieving families were offended at the mere suggestion of celebrating with their young ones gone.

The Hunters’ Guild and the watch worked day and night trying to find any clues as to where they’d been taken, but no luck. They looked for tracks in the forest, knocked on every door, asked if anyone had noticed something strange, if there’d been anyone strange among the usual stream of holiday travelers. Had anyone seen the missing children?

There was not a trace to be found. They’d been there one moment, playing, laughing, hanging out with their friends. Then someone had turned a corner and they were gone. Swallowed by the encroaching darkness. No one had seen the elves either, not even a trace.

Winter was cold this year. Snow that usually didn’t go much lower than the Peak started to slowly trickle down the mountain, covering all in white frost. The forest looked dead, empty, full of tall shadows. Life went on as usual and there was something sick about it.

Mao didn’t understand how people could wake up, eat breakfast in the cookery, talk to their friends, gossip- his friends were missing. Taken by the elves. It seemed like no one cared. Oh they cried, yes, but others just frowned.

Why were you crying? It was Jul. Be happy! Sing! Celebrate!

Fights broke out. The watch broke them up. The Hunters got attacked by a grieving father when they tried to separate him from a red faced noble. People pointed fingers. Someone had to be to blame. Someone must have taken them! Who was it? Was it the Red Lantern folks? The Hunters? The travelers maybe? Nobody knew, except for Mao and the Hunters’ Guild, and the Guild refused to let anyone else know.

It tore people apart.

Mao felt so sick that he started crying. It didn’t help. Tulip made worried rooster sounds. That helped a little. Just a little. Then someone else spoke.

“...Mao?”

Mao looked up. He was sitting by the ancient cherry tree, to escape the gloom of the city, have some time to think. He’d thought only Tulip knew where he was.

Joseph had found him. Mao nearly started crying again. Joseph looked uncomfortable. The noble didn’t know what to do. He was afraid of how high up they were. There was no fence around this hidden overhang.

Mao hiccuped, swore over his blurring vision and wiped at his eyes, but couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Joseph swallowed his fear for heights and went to give Mao a hug. The boys cried. It was all so unfair. This was supposed to be a magical time of year. With lights and decorations and candles that smelled of sweet spices.

Instead, children were missing and they were afraid. For a long time they just sat there, hugging, sobbing. Cursing because no adults were nearby to stop them.

Mao told Joseph the ‘wolf mother’s teats’ oath and the noble couldn’t help but laugh. the pair giggled, feeling some of the crushing weight of fear lift. They traded stories about how the oath had upset the adults. They felt a little bit better. Just a little. It wasn’t enough to soothe them fully, but to wallow in misery forever would eat you up inside if you let it.

They needed to be happy again, even if things were still wrong. They needed that strength to get through this. If everyone gave up and cried, who would be left to stop the elves? For the first time since this tragedy started, Mao had a feeling he knew what to do. He told Joseph and together the boys plotted a devious plan.