Herm sprenger prong collar quick release

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The Story: When a seemingly-powerless human walks straight through the wards shielding her bestiary, Aloe finds herself with a mystery on her shop floor - and with her merciless kin eager to get their hands on him, they've got a deadline on solving it.
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Together they strode back through Windscour’s compound, leaving the offices behind. The receptionist rose as they passed, raising a hand, but Kyran waved her off.
“She does not look pleased,” he said, shooting a look at Aloe. “You tampered with her, didn’t you?”
Color crept up her cheeks. “I needed to see you,” she mumbled. “If she’d warned you, you’d have locked everything down before I could get a word out. Wouldn’t you?”
“You can’t go around enspelling whoever you please,” Kyran said, though, his expression darkening.
“I do feel a bit bad for the encounter,” she mumbled, teasing a loose strand of blonde hair between two fingers. Her eyes rose, her expression sharpening again. “But I did what I had to, and I don’t regret that.” She raised an eyebrow. “Will you file a claim of your own?”
She held her tongue after that, watching as the words settled in. It wasn’t as simple as that, and both of them knew it. If Kyran wanted, he could march straight back to Jaian, have an investigation brought against her.
But doing that would also open an investigation into everything else that went on in Windscour, including his theft of Rowen, and he wouldn’t want that. Sure enough, after a moment’s pause, Kyran shook his head, quickening his pace. “Of course not,” he said, his voice saccharine-sweet. “A misunderstanding, that’s all. Yes?”
“Indeed,” Aloe said. She glanced around at the hallways they passed, which were steadily growing more sterile and nondescript as they wound deeper into the research part of the structure. “You’re not housing him in the focarium?” she said. “That’s your pride and joy, isn’t it?” The Lossimers were an analytical bloodline, their magic given to assessments and enhancements, their spells etched in runes. The focarium was his baby—and with it, he could plumb straight into the depths of magic. “I assumed you’d have him there.”
“We’ve only had him a few hours, Aloe,” Kyran said, an exasperated note slipping into his voice. Holding out a hand, he steered them down a side hallway, marked simply Holding. He pulled a badge from his belt, tapping it against a sensor on the wall, and gestured forward as the lock clicked open. “We hadn’t gotten that far yet. Come along.” As he pushed ahead, she saw him grimace. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Yes, please. She followed on his heels as they entered the wing—just a lonely hallway with a handful of doors off either side. Runes glowed from the floor and ceiling, burning with a low light Aloe couldn’t begin to make sense of. Given the name of this hallway and why they’d come to it today, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
Kyran went straight to the hallway’s single closed door, all the way at the end. Aloe drifted behind him, her steps slower as he fumbled with his badge a second time. The lock on the door beeped as he again tapped the card against it. And then he stood back.
“There,” he said. “Be my guest.”
And as she stepped forward, she heard him sigh. “You know, I don’t know why you’ve got yourself so worked up over this. If you’d just-”
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m sure you don’t.”
“I mean, you’re going to such lengths. It’s not going to change anything. You have to know that.”
She reached out, laying a hand on the cool metal. “You wouldn’t understand,” she whispered, her eyelids sinking lower.
Pushing hard, she turned the latch, pulling the door open in the same smooth motion.
The room inside was bare, she saw as she stepped in, just a smooth tile floor and a bed jammed into one corner. Something in her eased as she caught sight of the man sitting on its edge.
Rowen looked up through hazy, unfocused eyes. “Hey,” he rasped, then licked his lips, swallowing. He shifted, like he was trying to stand, but his legs weren’t cooperating. He gave up, sitting back down. “It’s…you.”
Aloe sighed, crossing toward him. “What did you do to him?”
“He’s just sedated,” she heard Kyran say from the doorway behind her. “Our sleep spells weren’t doing anything to him.”
“You don’t say,” she said dryly. Rowen tried to bat away her hands when she reached in, but she took gentle hold of one wrist, checking his pulse.
“We had to use human drugs in the end,” Kyran said. “Hope you’ve got some of those stashed around.”
She couldn’t miss the amusement in his voice. The spite. He was having fun with this. Releasing Rowen’s arm, she stepped back, safely out of range of his half-hearted swings. Her hand came up to cup her chin. “How am I going to do this?” she murmured.
Kyran snorted. “What’s that? The great Aloisia is stumped?”
She shot him a look. “I’m not-”
“I don’t care how you take him,” Kyran said. “But he has to be gone. I’m not running a hostel here. You wanted him?” He gestured, scowling. “You’ve got him. He’s your problem now.”
“I know, I’m just-”
“If it’s too much for you, I’d be happy to call the deal off.”
It was her turn to snort, shaking her head. “Wouldn’t you just.”
Rowen took another swipe at her, reeling in his seat. “Can’t do this,” she heard him mumble, the words slurred. “I’ll- I’m gonna-”
“Quiet,” she said with a sigh. Her hand dropped to her belt—and her kalimba. This time she unhooked it, running her thumbs across the tines. A cascade of bells filled the room.
Steadily, she started to pluck one after another, the resonance building and turning in on itself as she added notes. Her limbs steadied, her strength buoying. The wave of magical aid was accompanied by the sharp pang of a headache starting to take root. She grimaced, but kept going. Enhancement magic was Kyran’s forte, not hers, but she could make it work in a pinch.
And as the last note echoed on the air, she hung the kalimba back from its loop, letting it fall to her hip. The intoxicating flood of strength was still there as she took hold of Rowen, sliding his arm over her shoulders.
He tried to fight her. His punch was more like a slap, his movements too uncoordinated to break away. “L’me go,” she heard him mumble. “I’ll kill you. I’ll-”
“Yes, you’re very strong,” she said with a grunt, rising. Her knees ached for a moment—but she straightened, pulling his two hundred pounds of dead weight up with her.
Kyran was watching when she turned, one eyebrow raised. “You’re going to carry him like that all the way back to the surface world?” he said. “And what happens after Callaton? Will you drag him through the human streets like a prisoner?”
Aloe grinned, even as she started to sweat. Oh, he thought he had her stuck, did he? She reached beneath the collar of her sweater with her free hand, pulling loose a chain from beneath. A trio of crystal rods hung from it like a pendant.
With the three rods resting in the palm of her hand, she hesitated. Crystal foci were expensive. Incredibly so. These three had been a gift, and once they were gone, she wasn’t sure where she’d find more.
That was a question to be solved in the future, though. She needed them now, so use them she would. Leaning over, she rapped one of them against the wall. It sang out like a tuning rod, filling the room with its clear, pure peal. Kyran’s eyes widened. “Wait. You’re not going to-”
Her hand closed around the rod, dampening the sound—and she snapped it in her palm. Fragments of crystal dug against her skin. Magic poured outward, carried on the rippling echoes of that perfect note.
Home, she whispered silently, holding the image of the Dancing Dragon in her mind. Take us home. The odds were good that this wouldn’t work, but since she didn’t have another option on hand, she had to try. If her magic wouldn’t take hold with Rowen here-
The roar of the magic crescendoed. Light filled her vision. In the incandescent glow of it, she saw Kyran take a step back, letting out a startled yelp.
As the magic wrapped tight around her, she pulled Rowen closer, as if the vortex could possibly rip him away from her. Light flared in front of her as reality tore open, not dissimilar to what Kyran's goos had done - but way the hell more expensive. She sighed inwardly for what this adventure would cost her.
She stepped forward, dragging Rowen with her, and gave the portal a quick, nervous look as the two approached. This had better work. If he destroyed the portal, she'd be stuck here, and the thought of Kyran's smug face leering back at her was too much to bear.
It'd worked for Kyran's people. It would work for her.
Teeth gritted, she heaved the both of them across the threshold. The swirling, blazing magic flickered, growing darker - but held. Aloe grinned. Victory.
And with one last cascade of sparks, she stepped out into the Dragon.
Still reeling, she cast a look around, Rowan’s arm slung around her shoulders. He was taller than her, which left her dragging his legs limply behind them—but they were home. She exhaled, letting herself droop. Almost done.
When Aloe turned for the stairs, though, a glimmer of light on her desk caught her attention. She paused, glancing over. A smile curled at her lips at the sight of her letterbox gleaming in rainbow shades.
Staggering one last step forward, she dropped Rowen unceremoniously onto Daisy’s bed. The knurl raised her head with a whuff, shying back at the unexpected intrusion. “Sorry,” Aloe panted, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead. “Bear with it, girl. He’s friendly. Well.” She grimaced, remembering the swipes. “Mostly.”
He’d fallen still over their journey. She leaned closer, letting her eyes sweep over him as she gave a good, assessing look. What she saw made her sigh, sitting back on her heels. He was still awake, but probably only barely. He kept trying to curl up, pulling his knees close to his chest, and his hands were shaking.
“You’re safe now,” she said softly, but there was no reaction from the man. She turned for the letterbox with a weary groan, dropping into her chair. Was it just another bill, or-
Her smile grew as she withdrew the letter from within, spotting the familiar chicken-scratch handwriting on the front. Despite how horrible a day it’d been thus far, her mood lifted. Leaning back, she took a letter opener from the desk, carefully slicing the letter open.
The paper inside was sturdy and thick, the handwriting no more legible than it’d been on the front.
Aloe -
I almost wrote you earlier, but I wanted to wait until I really knew what I’d found. I’m still in the Deeproads. Deep, but not too deep. Don’t fret.
You’ll never believe what I’ve stumbled upon. I felt a bit of resonance on my last dive, so I plumbed the depths again, and this time, I broke through into a new shell. It’s remarkable. I don’t believe anyone’s been in it for years. Decades. Perhaps centuries. I found the ruins of an old structure abandoned there, but besides for that, it’s all sunbirds and the tiniest, most adorable little dragons you’ve ever seen.
I don’t think the shell is in too much danger of a collapse. It feels almost like a natural pocket, instead of a Child-forged construct. Perhaps you would be interested in visiting? I wouldn’t mind sharing the coordinates with you.
Give your knurl a rub for me.
Welther
Aloe chuckled to herself, running her fingers across the textured surface of the paper. “He’s up to his usual troubles, then,” she murmured, her cheeks warming gently. And he’d found dragons for her, too. Miniature ones. She glanced out to the shop floor, raising an eyebrow. The store was wood, so she’d always been loath to bring a dragon inside—especially considering how large they got. But if it was small enough? Maybe.
She lay the letter down with a sigh, glancing back to Daisy’s bed and its new cargo. “But I’ve got to sort you out first.”
Right. Her eyes widened. Rowen—and Welther. She’d talked big back in Windscour, but she wasn’t a scholar. Not really. She’d be struggling through things from here on out.
But Welther. Welther was a delver, a seeker of lost knowledge, new discoveries. Would he be interested in Rowen? She chewed her lip, weighing the possibility. It’d mean revealing Rowen to someone else, and she really didn’t want to make his existence public knowledge.
This was Welther, though. She couldn’t imagine him raising some sort of public stir over her newest charge. And…Aloe chuckled, shaking her head. If she didn’t tell him what she’d found, he’d probably get upset with her for that alone.
“Wait there just a second more,” she whispered, glancing back down to the dozing form of Rowen. “I’ll get you settled soon.”
Reaching forward, she grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen.
—--------------
The sunbirds overhead flapped back and forth, chattering to each other.
Aloe leaned back in her seat, lacing her fingers behind her head. The shop was quiet. She couldn’t very well open the store, not when all hell might break loose at any moment. Her letter to Welther was written and tucked into the letterbox, whose enchantments had no doubt already whisked it off to its destination. The creatures were fed, their dens mucked out.
All that left for her to do was wait.
She grimaced, letting her eyes sink closed. “What a damned stupid game you’re playing this time, Aloisia,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Go ahead and challenge the lord himself, why don’t you? Why not-”
One of the rafters creaked overhead. She stopped.
Looking up, she watched the floorboards compress, the wood flexing almost-imperceptibly. Her pulse quickened. Was it-
The sound of a footfall drifted down, so soft as to almost be lost entirely. She heard the distant clink of bedsprings.
Aloe sat back, waiting. Her thoughts of Kyran and Welther were long gone, just a flicker in the back of her mind. All of her attention was fixated on the ceiling of the Dragon—and the low, hesitant sound of someone creeping across the floor.
Her shop was well-built, but she’d lived in it for almost two decades, and she knew every creak and whine the place had. Her eyes drifted, following the telltale signs as they crept out of the bedroom and down the hall, descending the stairs on unsteady feet.
The footsteps went quiet, brought to a halt beyond the swinging doors that separated the shop from her home.
Even without a sound, though, she knew he was there. She could almost hear the ragged sound of his breathing, the terrified pounding of his heart. She didn’t get up, just stayed where she was, placid and calm—but her chin lifted. “I know you’re there,” she said. “In the stairwell. You’re not sneaking up on anyone.” In the silence, she heard the faint sound of an indrawn gasp.
Aloe smiled, leaning back another inch. Bingo. “You can come out now.”