The woman's face lit up. "Oh, Zane! Of course, I remember you, dear. My hip hasn't felt this good in centuries." She eyed the rest of us. "And these are your colleagues?"
"Cultural enrichment specialists," Zane patted my arm. "We're here for the special program today."
"Wonderful!" The woman clapped her hands. "It gets so dull around here sometimes. The same faces for decades, you know how it is."
"Actually," I seized the opportunity, "we were hoping to meet all the residents. Including, um, Wadsworth? I've heard so much about him."
The woman's smile faltered. "Wadsworth? Why would you want to meet that nasty old shit?"
"Research purposes," Fenric interjected stiffly. "We're conducting a study on longevity in magical beings."
"Well, good luck with that," she sniffed. "He lives by the north pond. Hardly anyone visits him, for good reason. Last week he turned Mortimer's walker into a swarm of butterflies, and poor Mortimer fell right into the koi pond."
"Thank you for the information," I smiled warmly. "We'll be careful."
As the woman hobbled away, I turned to the others. "North pond it is."
"Wait," Milo looked excited. "Did you notice the graveyard we passed on the way in? It's massive! Some of those graves are centuries old! Do you think if someone passed away while we're here, I could…"
"No," Fenric cut him off. "Absolutely not. Bureau regulation 876-B clearly prohibits unauthorized necromancy on Bureau missions."
"I wasn't going to do anything weird," Milo protested. "Just maybe make a new friend?" He looked like someone had smacked his puppy, or rather, skeleton?
"Focus, people," Zane tapped his wrist. "We need to split up to avoid suspicion. Rook, you're on perimeter watch. Fenric,go set up that boring lecture you planned as our cover. Milo, distract the staff. Winter and I will find Wadsworth."
Everyone nodded and dispersed to their assigned tasks. I fell into step beside Zane as we headed toward the north side of the property.
"So," I glanced at him sideways, "you really teach yoga here?"
"Every third Thursday," he confirmed. "The pay is terrible, but the stories are worth it. Last month, a 300-year-old warlock levitated during savasana and couldn't get back down. We had to use a butterfly net."
I laughed despite myself. "I'm trying to picture you being patient with a bunch of elderly magical beings."
"They're surprisingly great students," he shrugged. "When you've lived for centuries, you develop pretty good body awareness."
We rounded a corner and the north pond came into view. It was smaller than I expected, with a wooden gazebo at its edge and several benches arranged facing the water. Sitting alone on one of these benches was a large white goose.
"That's him?" I whispered.
Zane nodded. "Don't let the feathers fool you. That bird has witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations."
We approached cautiously. The goose turned to look at us, and I immediately felt the weight of its gaze. Its eyes weren't the simple black beads of a normal goose. They were swirling pools of iridescent color that seemed to contain galaxies.
"Wadsworth?" I called tentatively. "My name is Winter. I was hoping to speak with you."
The goose regarded me silently for a long moment. Then, to my shock, it spoke—not in honks or squawks, but in a deep, resonant voice that seemed to bypass my ears and vibrate directly in my mind.
"The Chalice-Bearer arrives at last," Wadsworth intoned. "I've been expecting you."
I blinked in surprise. "You have?"
"Of course," the goose ruffled its feathers indignantly. "I'm primordial chaos incarnate. Did you think I wouldn't notice a prophecy of this magnitude activating?"
"Um, no, I guess not?" I cleared my throat.
"Typical human," Wadsworth huffed. "Always underestimating those of us who choose less imposing forms. Do you have any idea how convenient it is to be a goose? No one expects you to attend boring cosmic council meetings. Plus, free bread."
Zane stepped forward with a respectful nod. "It's an honor to meet you, Ancient One. We hope that you'll assist us."
