The fox stopped in front of a building. The building was dark, gloomy, and so obviously the stronghold of a cult it was depressing. He walked to a window (draped in black masking tape!) and looked inside. The halls were crawling with guards (quacking! how can tape quack?), but none of them saw the fox (who would use such stupid guards?). Then, signalling behind him, the fox faded away. A minuit later a nearby door opened and closed itself. In the next room, the dust, thick layers of dust accumulated in the years since the cleaning staff died, was parted by invisible footsteps. At the jail cell block holding the Taverners, a few minuits later, the door swung open. Noone stood in the doorway, and noting could be heard save a slight flapping noise, inaudible in the ominous creak of the door's hinges.