With our business concluded

and her first week's advance in her pocket, Vernier headed back to the village.  I could not help noticing a certain avaricious gleam in her eye.  That's lowfolk for you!  I would have to stay on my guard, even among my supposed allies.

"Do you have anything to report?" I asked my Ixies.

"Nothing much, Sire," Typantronn replied.  "We were going to say we had found a skunk femme, but thou has already met her."

"Miss Vernier is charming, dont U think?" Angela asked as I sat down to read.

"Uh huh," I mumbled distractedly.

I was almost finished with the introductory volume on temporal mathematics, which would help me master those pesky inter-reality time slips.

"Should I consider her a rival?" Angela squeaked.

"What?  No, that's absurd.  Now please let me get on with my reading."

"He said it was absurd!!1!" Angela sighed dreamily as she flitted away.  "Elfs dont lye!"

I finished the volume on temporal math, which unlocked a dusty tome concerning theoretical chronothaumaturgy, which had been nothing but gibberish when I pulled it out of the library a few weeks earlier.  I nibbled the cheese and dried figs which Vernier had brought in the supply basket, and I read.

I finished the book of chronothaumaturgy, and picked up one called "Retroactive Scrying in Theory and Practice."  I finished the supply basket and my stomach began to growl.  How many days had it been?

I completed "Household Cantrips" (I could not figure out the reason for its security cloaking), and this led to a volume on manipulating the scry-space to suit any decorative taste.

Certainly it had been longer than a week by now.  I had my Ixies gather edible weeds, and made another stew from that and an assortment of beetles and grubs which Typantronn was happy to provide.

I ate my way through that pot of stew while reading "Remote Viewing on a Budget" and "Bylaws of the Department of Definitive Veracity."  Where was Vernier with the next supply basket?

I had just started on "The Ethics of Surveillance, With an Emphasis on Blackmail" when finally Vernier and Oak came stumbling through the underbrush.

"What kept you?" I snapped.  "You look rough.  Is the forest impeding you?"

"No, sir," Oak panted.  "The trees still honor the signs and their behavior is exemplary.  It's those rabbits!  They no longer dare to enter the wood, but they've taken to patrolling the perimeter and preventing anyone from entering.  That's the reason we are late.  We've been having lots of trouble finding a way to evade them."

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