Bug
The early morning chill air kissed Mike's neck as he stepped into the backyard and shivered. The grass, which had been vibrant and green yesterday, had suddenly taken on a yellow hue. The magic that Amymone was supplying to the grounds had withdrawn significantly overnight as she prepared to go dormant for the winter. Mike walked over to the massive oak tree where the dryad rested with her back against the bark.
"I was starting to think you wouldn't hibernate for the winter," he said with a grin. Nestled in the trunk, the dryad lifted her head to reveal tired brown eyes.
"I have to get caught up," she said, clutching the Kindle she had been reading to her chest like a talisman. "I'm two books behind in this series and the next one comes out in February."
"Well, that's true, but couldn't you just wait and get caught up in the spring? Then you wouldn’t be fighting to stay awake."
"Pah!" Amymone waved him off and sat up straight in the nook of her tree. "If I have to catch up next year, that's just two fewer books I'll get to read this year."
Mike knelt down and ruffled Amymone's hair. Some of it fell away from her, the green and yellow curls landing like scattered hay. "Just so you know, there's a good chance I'm leaving in the next couple of days. If you want me to say a proper goodbye, you should probably be ready for your nap before then."
Amymone's eyes popped open wide. "Oh shit," she whispered, then shrugged him off. "Don't distract me, then. I want you to be here when I fall asleep, you promised."
"I did," he replied. "But a promise only works if we're both working to fulfill it."
"Yeah, yeah, save your armchair psychology for the demon when she gets back." Amymone studied Mike’s outfit. "Are you headed to Oregon today?"
"Yep." Mike rose and flapped his winter coat like a pair of wings to pump some cool air through it. "It's a lot colder over there. They don’t have a magical ecosystem run by a beautiful dryad."
"Don't let me keep you." The dryad grinned and looked at something on her e-reader. "I've got four hours left in this book and can probably have the next two finished by tomorrow."
"I'll hold you to it." Mike stood and walked around Naia's fountain, then paused. He tapped the surface of the water, causing the nymph to manifest in a rising surge. Naia stretched dramatically, causing her gown to shift across her breasts and briefly reveal her nipples through the thin fabric. "Question. Does Death know someone messed with his teahouse?"
Naia looked toward the small structure near the back of the yard. After being damaged in the attack over the summer, Death had remodeled the small building just enough that the kids were able to play in it. Now, the thing had been reinforced with planks of wood that made it look like more a hastily-erected clubhouse.
"Death did that with Grace's help yesterday," Naia replied. "I think he's trying to keep her busy now that Tink is in the Library."
"He's a great friend." Mike smiled at the teahouse, then turned away. During this motion, he noticed a spare plank of wood from reinforcing the teahouse had been slapped against the side of his own home. "Um...why is that there?"
Naia giggled. "There was a chip in the paint," she replied. "Death tried to fix it and ended up making it worse. So it was just easier to hide the damage with that piece of wood."
"Tink is gonna kill him," muttered Mike.
"You are aware who we're talking about?" Naia grinned at him.
"Perfectly," Mike replied. "She'll probably sit down with Jenny and brainstorm how to do it, and then successfully kill him."
The nymph laughed. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" she asked.
"Yeah, I do." He leaned over the water enough to give the nymph a kiss, then walked to the small structure shaped like a cabin in the back of his yard. When he unlocked and opened the door, the temperature within was even colder than outside. He stepped inside, made sure the door was shut properly behind him, then opened the door on the opposite wall. The sun was just rising in Oregon as Mike stepped out of the portal building and onto crunching snow. He pulled the edges of his jacket shut as the wind tried to take a bite out of him, then yanked the door closed. It stuck briefly in the frame before the latch finally caught.
A small collection of tents had been set up by the cabin, its exterior decorated with symbols that Mike immediately identified as Nirumbi in origin. A few members of the Nirumbi tribe stood watch around a fire that was being prepped for mealtime. One of the warriors grunted in his direction and relaxed the grip on their spear.
Mike nodded in their direction. "Is Beth home?" he asked. She was expecting him, but he was here far earlier than planned. There was always the chance she had gotten up early and was out doing…well, Beth things, or whatever needed taking care of.
The Nirumbi gave him a crooked thumbs up, followed by a grin.
"Thanks." The Nirumbi watched with glittering eyes as he crossed the yard to the porch of the cabin and let himself in through the front door. A fire crackled in the hearth, warming the cabin to a reasonable temperature.
"Master Radley!" Emory fluttered up and landed on a small half wall that separated the front entryway from the kitchen. "Welcome home, sir."
"It's just Mike," he said, but didn't know if the homunculus would bother listening. "Good morning. Is Beth up yet?"
The imp shrugged. "I have heard rustling in her bedroom and have prepared some coffee, but know better than to wake her unless it's an emergency."
"What if I told you it was an emergency?" Mike snatched Emory by the legs before he could fly off. "That was a joke, Emory."
"My apologies!" The homunculus looked forlorn as Mike set him down.
"There's nothing to apologize for. Have you made breakfast yet?"
"I was getting ready to."
"Can you include bacon?" Mike reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver dollar. He handed it to Emory, who accepted the gift with shining eyes.
"Of course," said the imp breathlessly. He tucked the coin away beneath one arm and fluttered into the kitchen. The homunculus busied himself with a cast iron skillet that he set onto the gas stove. With a click, the gas was ignited. Emory already had a bowl of eggs whipped and ready to be scrambled, but ignored it in favor of going to the fridge to retrieve some bacon first. In minutes, the cabin was filled with the sound and smell of sizzling meat.
The master bedroom door opened and Beth wandered out in a long flannel shirt that terminated at her thighs and nothing else. Her auburn curls were in a tangle, and she ran her fingers through them, before fixing Mike with a look.
"You're early," she said.
"And you're grumpy." Just by looking at her aura, he could see the fluctuations that indicated irritability. "Rough night?"
"Kind of. Do I smell bacon?" She sniffed the air and smiled. "That smells so good. I thought we were out."
"I told you we were out so that you wouldn't ask me to make it." Emory leaned over the cast iron pan and grabbed the edges of the cooking meat with his fingers and flipped them over.
Beth looked puzzled. "Why would you do that?"
"Because last week, you told me to hide the bacon from you because your ass was getting too big." Emory looked very proud of himself. "And so I did."
"When did I say that?" Beth frowned at Mike. "I swear, I'm not worried about my ass size."
Neither am I, thought Mike.
"It was after you drank two bottles of wine and ate more than a pound of bacon wrapped jalapenos." Emory coughed into his hand. “All by yourself. In an hour.
"Ah. I see." Beth sighed. "I may have been...drunk. I'm surprised you didn't hide the bread from me, too."
"You told me to hide the bacon but that if you had to stop eating bread, you'd kill yourself." Emory suddenly looked worried.
Beth groaned. "That explains why we've had bread with every meal. Emory, I was just being silly. I didn't actually mean those things."
"Oh." Emory grinned. "Bigfoot will be pleased that bacon's back on the menu again. I've been making it in secret for him."
"He knew?" Beth narrowed her eyes. "He should have said something to me about it."
Emory shrugged. "That explains why he and Asterion thought it was so funny."
Mike watched Beth's soul struggle as it shifted back and forth between mirth and anger. Finally, she let out a laugh and rolled her eyes.
"I'll make them pay later," she said, then walked into the dining room and pulled a chair out. Just the slight bend forward had caused the flannel shirt to lift and reveal the lower curves of her ass. Unless there was a thong tucked away between those cheeks, Beth had taken a page directly out of Tink's fashion playbook. She slid onto the seat and gestured toward the other side of the table. "Join me?"
"Gladly." Mike moved to take the seat across from her. Emory flew over with a pair of mismatched coffee mugs. One was brown with faded filigree along the top. The other was black with a red interior. Beth reached out and switched the mugs with a wink.
"I have my favorites," she explained, then stood with the black mug and went to the coffee pot. "I assume you want cream in your coffee?"
"A little would be fine," he replied.
"Only a little? What a pity." She grinned in his direction and made a dramatic showing of pouring a bunch of cream into her mug. "So your text sounded serious. What did you need to talk about?"
"I've got a lead I can chase regarding Tink."
"How is she?" Beth asked as she poured herself some coffee. She brought the creamer to the table along with the carafe, then went back for her coffee cup. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled the aroma, her eyes half closed in bliss.
"She's okay, but very restless." Mike poured himself a tiny bit of cream and then added coffee to it. He took a cautious sip and his eyes went wide. "This is really good!"
"It's from Hawaii. I only get the good stuff now." Beth sat down. Over at the stove, Emory hovered nervously by the bacon, getting ready to snatch it from the pan. "So I'm guessing this lead of yours means an away mission?"
"Yep. Dana is still out hunting down the remaining Sons of Sin, which means I need you to watch the house." Mike frowned. "I don't know why, but I've got this feeling that something is headed our way."
Beth laughed. "I can explain why that is. Every time you leave your house, some asshole comes along to start drama. The first time I house-sat for you, it was an angel and the apocalypse. A few months ago, it was mercenaries. I think we all know that something is going to happen."
"In my defense, I put up ‘No Soliciting signs’." Mike chuckled. "Between those and the lions, we should be good now."
"As long as we're prepared." Beth turned her head to watch Emory pull the bacon from the pan. The homunculus used a rag to wipe out most of the grease and then dumped the whipped eggs right into the skillet. The imp gave the pan a cursory tilt, then hopped over to the toaster and dropped some bread slices into it. "So where are you going? I should remind you not to wear red, it's bad luck."
MIke took a deep breath and let it out all at once. Beth turned her attention back toward him. He smiled weakly. "It's at Machnaimh Abbey."
"The castle of reflections." Beth made a face and shivered. The name itself came from how the castle was reflected in the lake. "You must have found a hell of a lead to decide to go back to that miserable place. How long has it been since our trip?"
"Just over a year, I think." The disastrous visit to Machnaimh wasn't something that came up in casual conversation. Beth had gone with him for that initial trip, which had transformed into a terror-filled weekend along with some shared trauma. The place was infested with angry spirits in numbers that had boggled the mind. After two days of running from room to room while trying to escape, the spirits had finally allowed them to go.
"Well, at least you'll be more prepared this time." Beth shook her head. "The spirits won’t be too happy that they messed with you.”
Mike shrugged, his mind briefly touching the incident with the wraith. Unlike Beth, he had been able to see the spirits while they were there, so half of his issue had been protecting her from harm. Now, if he chose, he could not only protect himself but go on the offensive should the ghosts of Machnaimh push their luck.
“I debated waiting for Jenny to come home so I could take her, but that would be like putting gasoline on a fire. The spirits are angry, but they don’t deserve whatever she would do to them.” He sipped his coffee and chewed at his lip. “Cecilia should go with me for certain. She was a big help when I had to deal with that wraith, and the spirits won’t be able to hurt her.”
“Or possess her.” Beth shivered. “You don’t want to bring anyone who can be taken over.”
“Yeah, that, too.” The spirits had actively tried to possess both of them numerous times. They were both fairly immune to possession, but every attempt had been filled with a sense of foreboding and dread. “I thought about bringing Yuki, but I would feel better knowing she’s here watching the house and Grace.”
“So, what? Just you and Cecilia?” Beth shook her head. “That sounds foolish at best.”
“I thought about bringing Cerberus. They can’t be possessed and won’t be frightened by whatever crap the spirits throw my way.” He meant that both figuratively and literally. “I’m also highly suspicious that there’s a demonic presence in the castle. It would explain why the spirits can’t leave. Cerberus could take care of it while I’m there. It would be way faster than a ouija board and some holy water.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t gone back to the castle already.” Beth smiled. “You’re way stronger now. I’m sure the visit will go better.”
Mike nodded and slumped in his chair. “I’m always so busy,” he said. “When it’s not the end of the world, my attention is getting pulled in every direction. Going back to that castle and trying to figure out its secrets has been so low on my priority list, I just couldn’t be bothered. Honestly, knowing that something there might help Tink is the only reason I’m willing to go back now.”
Beth nodded and sipped her coffee. The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes as Emory wrapped up in the kitchen, then plated their food and brought it to the table. The scrambled eggs held just a hint of smokey flavor from the bacon grease. Mike stacked his eggs onto his buttered toast, added the bacon, then topped it with the other piece of toast to make it into a sandwich. When Beth raised her eyebrows at him, he grinned.
“I am a man of efficiency,” he stated, then took a bite of his meal.
“Some of us like to savor our meals.”
“I have two wives, a bunch of horny roommates, and two children with a third on the way.” Out of habit, Mike slammed down half of his coffee. “I’m busier than a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest.”
Beth chuckled, then a frown crossed her face. “Out of curiosity, have you been spending more time with Sulyvahn?”
“Why? You jealous?” Mike waggled his eyebrows, then saw the look on Beth’s face and realized she was serious. “I’ve noticed him hanging around, but I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had a chance to sit down and check in with him.”
“Interesting.” Beth turned to look out the window. “A couple of days ago, he suddenly insisted that he had extra work to do around the house. He won’t even make time for me.”
“Um…” Mike had already shoved most of the remaining sandwich into his mouth before swallowing it with more coffee. “Did you two have a fight or something?”
“We haven’t. In fact, he’s always just really sweet and we chat about whatever is on our minds when we’re together.” Beth picked up a piece of bacon and split it in half the long way. “His sudden lack of interest raises a few alarms.”
“He’s always just in the front of the house, working the yard. However…” Mike mentally replayed his recent interactions with the dullahan. “Yeah, he has been weird. I feel like he’s just hanging around and waiting for something.”
“Hmm.” Beth tapped the table with her fingers, then chewed on her bacon. She slowly ate her breakfast, then used a napkin to clean butter off her lips when she was done. After a long sip of coffee, she sighed and sat back in her chair. “Let him go with you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I think I may know what’s going on,” she said. “But I can’t go into details.”
“Why not?”
“Because I suspect that you knowing may complicate things. In fact…” Beth looked out the window and smirked. “And there he is.”
Mike leaned forward to look out the window pane. Sulyvahn was currently chatting with a trio of Nirumbi youngsters. They were showing him a ball, which he casually bounced on his knees like a professional soccer player.
“Do I…have to worry about him?” Mike asked.
“No.” Beth rose and took her plate to the sink. “But I need you to give me some money right now. For lawyer-client confidentiality.”
“What?”
“Don’t ask questions. Let me do my job.” Beth put out her hand. “Think of it as old magic.”
“I…don’t…” Mike looked at Emory and saw the little imp wince. “Hey, man, can I borrow a dollar from you?”
Emory wilted visibly. “A…dollar? You want one of my…dollars?”
“That coin was the only cash I brought.” Mike frowned. “Unless I can just send you money digitally?” He looked at Beth.
“Actually, a silver dollar would be best,” added Beth. “That’s not a clue or anything, Mike. Try not to think about it anymore.”
“I mean, I’m super curious now.”
“Seriously, don’t. Pretend the geas erased that bit of our conversation.”
It took some begging and pleading, but after Mike promised to bring Emory lots of silver dollars in the immediate future, the imp snuck off to one of his treasure troves and brought Mike a silver dollar from the early 1900s. Mike handed it over to Beth, who slipped it into her pocket.
“Perfect,” she said. “I’m going to hold onto it until this whole thing blows over.”
“What whole thing?”
Beth gestured out the window. “Looks like Bigfoot is up.”
Mike turned to the window and watched as a mound of snow rose up and crumbled away to reveal Bigfoot, who had been slumbering near the barn. The moment he stood, a group of Nirumbi children came running out and formed a circle around him. The sasquatch slowly walked over to the fire while they scrambled onto his body.
“What is going on?” asked Mike.
“The tribe has moved some of the more vulnerable members closer to the house,” said Beth. “In case they need additional assistance. Bigfoot has been working with them and promised those children they could have a barn sleepover together if they completed all their tasks last week.”
Bigfoot sat by the fire and patiently waited for all the Nirumbi children to climb off him. An elder emerged from a nearby tent with several wooden stakes, which he handed out to the children. Next, he retrieved a crate of salted meat, which the Nirumbi children eagerly cut into strips. Most of these went onto their sticks, but a few were gobbled up raw.
Ever since the Nirumbi had moved in, Bigfoot had become a bit of a spiritual leader to them. While Beth was capable of bridging the gap between them and the modern world, they wanted very little to do with it. Bigfoot himself was responsible for assisting the tribe with finding means to honor the old ways that were worth keeping while allowing certain traditions, like cannibalism, to die out.
Quetzalli was also very good in this role, but now that winter was here, the dragon far preferred hanging out with her distant cousin, Di. Ever since the two met in Hawaii, they spent the bulk of their time together. Mike had wondered for a long time if Quetzalli had become bored with her life in the Radley house, but she explained that she understood the crippling loneliness Di had suffered. Dragons were typically solitary or social creatures, and the earth dragon was one of the latter who missed her own kind something fierce.
"He's really good with kids," said Beth as she pulled her hair forward into an easy braid. "I think he misses having Grace around."
"She hates the snow. It’s pretty hard to convince her to be cooped up inside the cabin when there are so many options for her at home. He's always welcome to drop by the house." Mike knew Bigfoot wasn't likely to come over. The cryptid was fiercely protective of the lands around the cabin. At least once a week, something nasty tried to sneak its way in and eat some of the creatures who had taken refuge there. The Nirumbi tribes were pretty good at defending the land, but their battles usually came at a cost, and Bigfoot always took those personally.
"Before I leave, I wanted to see if you could help me map Machnaimh Abbey out," said Mike. "I know we got separated for a bit and I'd really like to have some idea of what I'm going into."
"Always the boy scout." Beth gave him a mischievous grin. "I've got some paper in my room. Let me go grab it."
Beth stood and went into her room, stretching her arms up as she walked. Mike got caught up in looking at her ass, then quickly looked back out the window before she found him peeking. Bigfoot was talking to the Nirumbi youth and showing them how to properly cook their food. While the Nirumbi didn't have any difficulty digesting raw meat, they were very susceptible to parasites.
Emory stood on the window sill, his wings curled around his back and feet as the imp watched. "He has always been good with children. You should have seen him with Lala and Velvet. Those two were quite the handful."
Mike's smile was bittersweet. "Did they put him through the paces?"
"Oh, yes." Emory chuckled, which made a sound like shifting gravel. "When they were teenagers, they were about as strong as he was. They used to challenge him to arm-wrestling matches whenever they got into an argument over something. He used to get so mad when he lost, but I know the truth."
"Which was?"
Emory sighed. "He would let them win. Those two had plenty of land to roam, but they were trapped. It gave them a sense of control, like their lives were at least partially in their hands. They were...difficult in their teen years, Velvet more so than Lala."
Mike shivered. He was already worried about dealing with Callisto as a teen. The centaur was only a few years old and already smarter than some adults he knew. There had been hints of defiance in the child, which was typical. Children arguing with their parents was something that united all families across time and space. That he could handle.
However, the idea of attempting to debate an Arachne teenager who could casually lift a car gave Mike a case of the shivers. He had a feeling Aunt Lala would have to help him with those.
"I remember one time, Bigfoot and Velvet got into a huge argument over something, but she challenged him over it. The two of them locked hands and promptly destroyed the kitchen table."
"Damn."
Emory laughed. "They weren't done, either. They got down on their stomachs and continued on the floor. They ended up cracking the floorboards. If Ana hadn't tossed them both out, I think they'd still be there."
Mike looked across the floor, curious if he could spot a board that looked out of place. "So how did they settle their argument?" he asked.
"Bigfoot got very big. When Velvet told him he wasn't being fair, he picked her up, hiked out to the hot springs, and threw her in." Emory put a hand to his chest. "She didn't talk to him for almost a week. Darren and Ana told them that all future arguments would be outside from then on. Bigfoot even brought in a rock they could use."
"Is the rock still out there?"
Emory shook his head. "It was only a few months before they had another spat and broke that rock. The girls figured out at that point Uncle Foot had been tossing his matches and they just sort of...stopped. That's the sad thing about childhood, really. It’s full of firsts, but at least you know them when you see them. It’s the ‘lasts’ that really get you. You never know that you've just seen your last silly dance, or heard your last belly laugh. Everything is so..."
The imp went silent, suddenly lost in his thoughts. Beth's door opened and she came back out, clutching a notepad and some pencils. Mike couldn’t help but notice that the top button of her shirt was now undone. When she sat next to him, her shirt folded out to reveal the ample curves of her breasts.
“You’re doing that on purpose,” Mike grumbled.
“And it’s working.” She handed him a pencil with one hand as the other snaked beneath the table to grab his cock through the top of his pants. “Like I said before, someone else failed to make any time for me. His loss is your gain.”
When Mike looked into Beth’s eyes, it felt like he was staring down a predator. “None of the other men in your life were willing to step up?”
“Bigfoot was babysitting and Asterion left last night to help Ratu. He said something about possessed statues.” As Beth stroked him, he could feel her magic passing through the denim weave of his jeans as if they weren’t there, the energy teasing sensitive flesh. Beth was also drawing a diagram on her piece of paper. “Let’s play a game.”
“I like games.”
“Whoever finishes their diagram first gets to choose how we wreck my bedroom.” Beth lifted an eyebrow. “I’ll let you stick it anywhere you want.”
“I don’t know that we’re going to actually wreck anything,” said Mike. He felt a surge of pressure along his cock and looked down to see that Beth was using her magic to increase the flow of his blood. He grunted as his pants became unbearably tight. “Okay,” he wheezed. “I stand corrected.”
“Yeah, or at least sit.”
He picked up his pencil and noticed that Beth had already drawn most of the outer walls of Machnaimh. Using the edge of her notepad to make clean lines, he grunted quietly as Beth continued to stroke him.
“Giving me the advantage?” she asked, then bit down on her lip. “How gentlemanly of you.”
“Some of us can’t draw straight lines without help.” In fact, he was filled with awe as Beth casually drew her perfect lines, using the pressure from her palm alone to hold her paper in place. She smirked at him and actually drew the edge of the south-facing parapet without looking.
“If only I could have drawn naked people,” she said. “I could have had a career as an artist.”
“You wanted to be an artist?”
Beth snorted. “No, I’m being silly.” She did something with her hand and Mike’s pants undid themselves. “Now lift your butt so I can get those off.”
Mike heard a fluttering sound and caught sight of Emory out of the corner of his eye. The imp had left the kitchen and gone upstairs, likely to be out of the way. Shrugging, he stood up just enough that Beth was able to tug his pants down. Beth’s cool fingers wrapped around his cock and stroked him, causing his magic to boil deep within his belly.
“If you’re going to just let me do whatever I want, you’re going to lose.” Beth turned her attention back to her paper and started filling something in. “So if I remember correctly, we got separated in that large library room, right?”
“Uh…yeah.” Mike closed his eyes and savored the feel of her hand on his cock. “The one with the rotating bookshelf.”
“I was a little surprised you didn’t come after me when I fell into that secret passageway.”
“That’s because I was busy getting attacked by moldy books and didn’t see you fall in.” Mike looked at Beth’s drawing and copied the library room in the same place. Concentrating on the task at hand, he drew the long hallway that led to it and then the double stairwell just inside the entrance of that part of Machnaimh. The castle itself was a rectangular structure toward the back of a circular wall, but most of the wall had crumbled over the years. An entire portion of the northern face of the building had weathered poorly, allowing rain and wind to casually flow through the rest. However, the interior was still in pretty good shape in regards to structure. Mike suspected part of that was due to the spirits who resided there.
The residents were also the reason they couldn’t open a portal directly there. With every attempt, the spirits either chased the rats off or destroyed the portal afterward. The island wasn’t much bigger than the castle, which meant there was nowhere safe nearby. When Mike did leave for Machnaimh, he would portal in as close as he could. Most of the land around the lake had been bought up decades ago and was now protected by the government as a natural area. The rest was generational farmland, and none of the families involved had been interested in letting Mike buy or rent a small parcel of land to establish a dock.
To Mike, Machnaimh was a place where anything that could go wrong simply did. He couldn’t casually visit. The ghosts didn’t like him. Renting a boat was out of the question because the locals would tell everyone. The last thing he needed was for the Order to show up, or gods forbid, the government. They weren’t super happy with his ownership, either, since he wasn’t fixing the place up. He had intended to, but didn’t think a work crew would take kindly to being murdered.
“I assume we’re going to combine these or something once we’re done.” Mike pretended to ignore the handjob.
“Eulalie has mapping software,” said Beth, rolling her thumb across the head of his cock. “I figured she would use one of her programs to put it all together for us.”
“Makes sense.” Mike bit the inside of his cheek lightly, trying to pull his mind back to the castle. “Though I doubt she’ll be able to account for the fact that the interior doesn’t match the exterior.” To emphasize his point, he drew a long hallway that left the edge of the castle, then wrote a question mark on it.
“Where was that?” asked Beth, leaning over him so hard that her breasts pushed against him.
“Magic hallway,” he said. “Ran down it for ten minutes. When I got to the other side, it was only a hundred feet long.”
“Hmm.” Beth’s hair was in his face now. She smelled of soap and very slightly of the nearby hot springs. Mike knew she spent a lot of time there practicing her magic, which was code for floating in the water and masturbating in order to attune to the nymph magic that now resided in her soul. He could actually see that part of Naia as a patch of cerulean blue that flowed through Beth’s spirit like a tiny river.
The two of them continued their work. It was clear Beth was going to finish first. Mike leaned back in his seat and let out a groan as she reached past his cock to play with his balls.
“I didn’t realize I was going to win so easily,” she said, leaning across the table to give Mike a good look at her ass. She had no panties on, and her labia swollen with desire. “You didn’t even try to distract me.”
“I let you play with my cock,” he said. “Isn’t that a big enough distraction?”
Beth snorted. “Oh, please. I’m not some horny teenager seeing her boyfriend’s cock for the first time. I’ve got experience.” Her ass swayed back and forth playfully and she paused to look over her shoulder at him. “I’m thinking I might tie you up and blindfold you, and then spend the whole morning milking you dry. I’m orgasm deficient today and would like to catch up on my diet.”
“Sounds like fun,” Mike admitted, then stopped drawing to run his hand across Beth’s ass. His cock twitched, and Beth moved her hand back up to stroke him. “But I don’t know that I’ll have that much time for you.”
“Then you shouldn’t have agreed to this game.” Beth squeezed the head of his cock.
Mike laughed. “Are you almost done?”
“Just one more room.”
“Good. Now it’s a fair game.” With that, Mike summoned a golden mote of light to the tip of his finger and casually slid it inside of Beth’s pussy. She jolted upright as the magic flowed into her, the magic spreading through her body like wildfire.
“What…did…you…” Beth groaned, her legs buckling slightly as she came. The magic zig-zagged through her nervous system, making her whole body quiver. Whenever the magic threatened to peter out, Mike would slap her on the ass, sending another jolt through her.
“No…faiiiiirrrrr!” Beth came again, dropping her pencil in the process. Mike paused to move it within reach.
“C’mon, you can do it,” he said, then slapped her ass again. The magic took about a minute to fully cycle through Beth, which gave him plenty of opportunity to go over his map and catch up. The sight and smell of her arousal had his cock completely rigid now, but Beth was unable to contribute any further. Her full attention was on trying to complete her drawing.
Emory poked his head out of wherever he had been hiding, then rolled his eyes and left. Mike was sure that the imp had seen some bizarre shit. This was likely low on the list.
Beth’s magic surged, and he raised an eyebrow in curiosity. It had clamped down on his magic in an attempt to push it away and allow her to focus. He slapped her ass again, but when Beth came, she just grunted and started furiously drawing.
In response, Mike slid two fingers inside of her and rested them on top of her g-spot.
Beth went still. When she spoke, her voice was a whisper. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I absolutely would.” MIke chuckled. “You should know better than to challenge somebody with experience to a fuck off.”
When the golden light hit Beth’s g-spot, she squeezed her pencil so hard that it snapped in half. Her hips bucked as she sprayed cum onto the floor. Mike summoned the magic to the tip of his thumb and pressed it against her clit.
“MIIIIIKKEEEE!” Beth whimpered and moaned as Mike’s magic created a tiny feedback loop between her vagina and her clitoris. He lost track of the number of orgasms she had as he spent the next few minutes finishing his map, using one hand to pin her hips to the table as she kicked her legs while he drew with the other. Beth clung to the edge of the table with her hands, whimpering as the orgasms reduced her to a human puddle.
“Annnd…done.” Mike set down his pencil and stood. He walked over to the oven, picked up the towel that hung on the handle, and brought it over to mop up some of the mess that Beth had made. The room still smelled slightly of bacon, but was being overpowered by the smell of pussy. Mike made a mental note to send a letter to Yankee Candle about it, then stood and pressed the head of his cock against Beth’s labia.
Beth whimpered. Mike leaned forward and moved the hair away from her face so that he could see her better. Her gaze was unfocused, her cheeks flushed with arousal. She was lying in a puddle of her own drool.
“Are you caught up yet?” he asked. “On your orgasm quota?”
Beth blinked, and then shook her head no.
“Good.” He pressed his body forward, his cock pressing past her labia and entering her body. She groaned, but didn’t move. The residual magic dancing through her core flowed back into him, filling him with strength. He took his time. Beth’s body could easily accommodate both his length and girth, but squeezed him as if he was pushing against her physical limitations. Her swollen labia were now stretched thin, giving him quite the view.
Eventually, he was fully inside her. Mike let out a satisfied groan as Beth’s vaginal walls squeezed the length of his cock.
“Cheater,” she whispered.
“Talk to my lawyer,” he replied, then fucked her slowly against the table. With the magic withdrawn, Beth was no longer on the orgasm express. This clearly frustrated her, as she began pressing her hips back against him. After being teased for so long, his body demanded release, but he still intended to take his pound of flesh.
Mike unleashed his magic once more, but instead of slapping her ass to send a wave of pleasure through her body, he used his hips. Every time she took his entire length, he sent another blast of magic through her, timing it so that the magic built in power instead of returning to his body. Beth’s hands scrambled as she tried to grip the table, which was now sliding across the floor just a bit with every thrust.
“Oh, fuck.” Mike took a deep breath and shoved himself deep, relishing in the tight, sensual feel of Beth’s body against his own. He felt her own magic reach for him in an attempt to drive him wild, but it was simple enough to capture it with his own and flood her body. The table scooted far enough that it bumped into the kitchen counter and moved no further.
The air in the room went still and then crackled as Mike’s magic seeped up through Beth’s body. Blue and purple motes of light appeared and shimmered around them, sparkling with energy and occasionally turning gold. Beth cried out as Mike used his magic to stop her own pending orgasm and let the pressure build inside of her.
“Mike! Mmf! Harder! Fuck me harder!” Desperation filled her voice. “I’m so close, please! Pleeeaaase!”
“Almost,” he grunted, then ran his hand across her ass. “You said any hole, yes?”
Beth gasped, then nodded. Mike pulled out of her, marveling at the amount of cum that was already leaking out of them both. Beth tilted her hips down. Mike pressed himself against the ring of her ass and pushed forward.
HIs lawyer let out a scream of pleasure, her voice going hoarse. When Mike was halfway inside of her ass, he let the magic take them both. The motes of light exploded, showering the room in glittering shards of magic that bounced off the walls. Mike grabbed a handful of hair and pulled Beth’s head up from the table.
“Yes!” she cried. “Harder, pull harder!”
He yanked her head back, causing her back to arch and allowing him to sink even deeper into her ass. While he would never admit favorites, fucking Beth’s ass was something he actively thought about, despite the massive variety he always got at home. The curves of her butt fit perfectly against his body as he pounded her from behind. Once her head was high enough, he slid his free hand up over her shirt to play with her breasts.
“I love your ass,” he told her. “I love how it looks, how it feels, how you keep tightening it around me.”
“More! Mo—” Beth stiffened as the magic coalesced around her core. Mike moved his hand from her breasts up to her jaw, and pulled her backward until her cheek was against his own. Turning his head, he slid his tongue into her mouth, completing the magical circuit.
When he came, the magic fired through both of them. Beth alternated between moaning and hyperventilating as he pushed their combined magics through her body, before taking it back into his own. Doing so not only allowed him to keep running it through her, but his own orgasm became a prolonged experiment in concentration. His cock twitched for what felt like several minutes as he trapped both of them in this state, continuously pumping his load into Beth.
Eventually, Mike could take no more. His vision was going dark, and when the kiss broke, Beth flopped down onto the table with a huge grin on her face. Mike’s legs had gone numb, and he carefully stepped back while bracing himself with his hands against the table. This time, it was copious amounts of his cum that leaked onto the floor.
“Gods,” Beth muttered, her legs shaking. “I needed that.”
“Clearly.” Mike slapped her on the ass hard enough to leave a small mark. Beth yelped, then lifted the hair away from her face to look at him.
“I’m up for more if you are.” She wiggled her hips at him.
“I’m…tempted.” Mike studied her for several long moments, but his gaze slid to the maps the two of them had drawn. As much fun as it would be to spend all morning literally fucking around, there was still work to be done. “Would you consider a raincheck?”
Beth chuckled. “Maybe, but only if you hop in the shower with me.”
“And thus, our bargain is struck.” He helped Beth stand. The ground was slippery, and she slid into his arms. When their faces touched, she kissed him. It wasn’t the same, lust-filled kiss from before, powered by need. It was the kind of kiss that made his heart skip a beat, or his stomach flutter. As if realizing what she had done, Beth broke away with surprise on her face, then blushed.
“Um…the shower?” She pointed toward the bedroom.
“Right.” Mike turned to go with her and caught sight of Emory by the stairs. The little imp was carrying a stack of towels on his head and wore a forlorn expression as he stared at the mess Beth and Mike had made on the floor. “Actually, why don’t you start without me while I help clean up?”
“Such a gentleman.” Beth smiled shyly at him, her hand trailing across his stomach as she walked away. When she disappeared from view, Mike took the towels from Emory.
“Yeah, I’m not making you clean this up,” he said, then crouched down to start drying the floors.
“You still owe me a dollar,” the imp declared.
“That I do.” Mike sent a mental note to Kisa to have someone arrange to bring more silver coins to Emory as soon as possible. After getting all the cum off the floor, Mike threw the towels in the washing machine. By the time he made it into Beth’s bathroom, the room was filled with steam from the shower. After stripping off his clothes, he stepped into the shower and paused at the sight of Beth’s naked body. The water vapor caressed her body like a lover, and she turned to look back at him.
“See something you like?” she asked.
Mike stepped into the shower with a grin. Beth turned to greet him, lifting one leg to wrap it around his waist. He was already hard again. The water of the shower obeyed Beth’s commands, scouring him clean.
“I guess another half hour wouldn’t hurt,” he admitted.
“Only if you like cold water,” Beth replied. “We’ve got about ten minutes left. Want to race?” She grabbed his cock and guided it inside her.
As a matter of fact, Mike did.
---
The fae princess stood on the edge of the street, smirking silently to herself every time a car slowed down so that the driver could get a better look at her. Based on what she understood of mortals, her appearance would seem intimately familiar, much like a human celebrity. Her beauty was otherworldly enough that it would take extra time for the human brain to contemplate exactly what it was seeing. Either way, she was pleased.
Still, the small joy gleaned from disrupting the flow of traffic mattered little against the losses of yesterday. Her failure to meet with the Caretaker and insert herself into a position of trust was so great the shapeshifter had laughed in her face afterwards. If she didn't think the Unseelie would crucify her for interfering with their agent, she would have cursed the beast to dance until its feet turned bloody.
She waited on the corner, her eyes on the opening to the property. Every few minutes, she would wince upon hearing the metallic clatter of chimes or bells hitting the ground, only to be removed by the local fauna. It had been easy enough to tell the birds and squirrels what she desired of them; the animals living nearby had treated her with the proper respect due a member of the royal court.
Back before the veil fell, she would often walk this world in an attempt to alleviate her own boredom. The fae realm was beautiful in a lot of ways, but it was nowhere near as chaotic as the mortal one. It sometimes felt like entire cities could spring up in the span of a single breath. The joy of seeing what wonders humans could accomplish or destroy had brought her such pleasure.
Now, however, those sudden changes were working against her. She wasn't entirely convinced of the reasons someone had set those bells and chimes across most of the property. The court had already called in some of the local fae and questioned them at length about why the Radley estate had done such a thing. Apparently it had been part of a last moment home improvement project, and the Arachne had been very careful to avoid placing the chimes or bells near where the fae lived in the magical hedge maze. Naturally, the Seelie had been excited to hear that Mike had violated the rules of Hospitality, but the child had acquired permission from the fae on the property. The dullahan had been very forthright that this whole plan had been at Death's behest. The Grim Reaper believed himself to be the home's new handyman while Tinker Radley was indisposed.
Many hours had been spent arguing about whether Mike Radley could be blamed for this situation. The banshee and the dullahan had been questioned at length and both had pointed out that nobody living in the house would have expected a member of the fae to walk in from the street. They typically came straight to the garden via a faerie ring or a summoned archway.
So, here she stood, using rodents and birds to remove the offensive chimes. With any luck, the Arachne wouldn't be present with that bell of hers.
A sparrow flew across the sky and landed on the tip of her finger. The bird chirped quietly and bowed.
"And you removed all of them?" she asked.
The bird chirped again. The animals were fairly certain they had gotten them all. Of course, they did have limited intellect. The princess wondered if she should have taken the extra time to find some crows or ravens. Those birds were far smarter than most mortals understood and would have made for great minions.
"Then I release you," she said, and the bird flew away. It let out two loud chirps, and a swarm of birds took off from the grounds of the Radley Estate, followed by a bunch of squirrels who climbed onto the walls and ran along their edges. She waited for the animals to disappear completely, then held back a few more minutes. Appearing so soon after the departure of those animals was likely to make others suspicious, especially if they’d seen what the animals had just done.
A woman in a runner's outfit stopped nearby to tie her shoe. She lifted her head to look at the princess, a silver gleam in her eyes. It was the shapeshifter wearing a new guise.
"The bells. Have they been dealt with?"
"They have." The princess sneered. "You could have helped."
"You are right. I could have." The shapeshifter did an odd stretch with their legs that twisted their back around nearly 180 degrees. "But then they may suspect that there are two of us. Secrecy is my greatest tool."
"Your kind deals in secrets and deception. I can think of no better ambassador for the Unseelie."
The shapeshifter pulled a pair of sunglasses from her pocket and put them on. "I'll be watching," she said, then continued down the road.
The princess walked across the street and toward the gate. The stone lions shifted briefly, one of them turning its head to look at her.
"I bring no harmful magic," she declared with a scowl. "Turn your attention elsewhere."
The lion seemed satisfied with her answer and resumed its eternal vigil. The stone beasts had been created by the Architect himself. Even the fae weren't entirely certain how they operated. If there was one thing on the property that the princess feared, it was them. That and the devil dog. Hellfire burned through all things that were truly alive, and there was nothing more alive than a noble of the faerie court.
The walk up the driveway felt longer somehow. Perhaps it was due to caution, or from fear of the jangling of silver. With every step, her confidence grew. Near the top of the rise, where the hedge maze began, centaurs were already out in force. The man-beasts were pruning plants back to help prepare them for their impending slumber. A couple of them were already looking in her direction, their eyes glistening with interest.
The princess smiled demurely as she approached. She spotted the dullahan in the maze with an empty bucket and a pair of shears. The psychopomp frowned at her approach, but said nothing.
"Good morning." When the princess spoke, she could feel the air weave itself into a tapestry worthy of carrying her words. The centaurs forgot what they were doing, all those within listening distance now looking directly at her. "I am a member of the noble court of the Seelie and have come to meet your Caretaker. Will you take me to him?"
The centaurs dropped everything immediately and formed a circle around the princess. She laughed at their antics, allowing the wind to carry her aloft amongst her honor guard. They escorted her immediately up to the front door of the Radley home, the porch creaking warily under the weight of so many centaurs. The beasts were all too eager to knock on the door and ring the bell continuously, each of them shoving each other away from the door to be the one who got it open for her.
When the knob on the door turned, the princess bent at the waist in a regal bow. Glowing lights manifested around her body like fireflies, then transformed into flower blossoms that carried themselves away on the breeze.
"I greet you, Caretaker. The Seelie have sent me that we may know you better. I am known by many names. The Princess of Fables. A lady of the lake. She Who Walks the Stars. But you may call me Nyx."
Nyx waited several long seconds. When she got no reply, she smiled with contentment. The Caretaker was clearly smitten with her already. She lifted her eyes so that he may look properly on her face and stopped upon seeing a pair of boney feet in flip flops.
"I greet you, Nyx of the Seelie court." The door clicked shut behind the Grim Reaper as he pushed his way forward through the throng of centaurs. "I am also known by many names! Some have called me Azrael. Others still refer to me as the Pale Rider. I am the one who takes, a Shinigami, ImmortaliTea on a certain forum, Thanatos. Magere Hein. King Samhain of Terrors."
"I greet you, King--"
"Oh, I'm not done introducing myself. Please don't interrupt me, I wouldn't want to be inhospitable." The Grim Reaper coughed into his hand. "I am also known as Yama. Skinny Henry. San La Muerte. Memitim. Bone Daddy McGee, of Bone Daddy McGee and the Reapers. I started a band of my own once, but can only play the Coffin Dance song on the bass, so got kicked out."
"Um..." Nyx straightened her back, afraid to say anything that may interrupt. She listened to each name carefully, wary that he may be making them up. However, as long as he was being truthful, she had no cause to interrupt. After all, he had listened to some of her titles.
And yet, he continued. The Grim Reaper gave her dozens of names which soon became hundreds. Many of these names came from something called an Alt account in places with silly names like Facebook, Reddit, and others. Interspersed among these names were several more lingual variations, most of which she recognized.
Several long minutes passed. In this span, the centaurs eventually remembered themselves and returned to their work, looking dazed and confused. Soon, it was just the two of them on the porch.
"And on Club penguin, I was known as HumerusD. My friends in Hawaii call me Big Tea-huna, which is because I like to hang ten while drinking tea. Or is it drinking tea while hanging ten?" The Reaper laughed at his own joke. "But more importantly, I would like for you to address me as Death."
"Well met." Nyx let out an explosive breath of air and unclenched her hands. "That was...quite the greeting."
"Indeed. Since you are a member of the fae and nobility, I would like to show you proper Hospitality. Do you like tea?"
Nyx shrugged. "Tea is a rather general term, and I cannot say I like or dislike every flavor. I do prefer floral blends."
"Aha!" Death chuckled and put his arm out. "I have a tea house around back that has been recently refurbished. I gave up on tea ceremonies over the summer, but realized recently it is the quality of the company that makes or breaks a ceremony."
"A ceremony would be nice, but I do wish to formally greet the Caretaker and make his acquaintance."
"Mike Radley is my best friend. I can tell you that he is currently handling an urgent matter, but will let him know you are here." Death pulled a silver rectangle from his robe, which Nyx immediately recognized as a cellphone. The Reaper tapped the screen a few times, then dropped it back in his pocket. "I have told him where we will be. He will come when he has time."
Nyx nodded demurely. "Then I am in your care."
"Then please, follow me." Death walked Nyx around the side of the house to reveal a beautiful garden in the backyard. A massive fountain filled the center of the garden, and was adjacent to an enormous oak tree which radiated with power that Nyx had not seen in the mortal realm for many years. Behind those buildings, a small structure sat. It looked clumsily built, as if it had fallen apart and recently been patched back together.
"My teahouse serves as a playhouse for the children," said Death as he led her to the porch. "I am so excited to host a proper member of the nobility."
"I am eager to be your guest." Sitting around and drinking tea likely wouldn't take long. When the Reaper opened the door, it was to reveal comfortable cushions set around a small table. Death helped Nyx sit down on one of the cushions, then knelt across from her and bowed his head until it almost hit the table.
"I have many floral blends," he said. "Is there a particular flower you enjoy?"
"Lavender would be nice."
Death looked up at her with a grin. Well, she supposed it was a grin. It was more of a feeling she got in the back of her mind, which wasn't uncommon among the fae. The visible world was transient by nature, and the fae were long accustomed to reading between the lines.
As she gazed into the burning eyes of the Reaper, she suddenly felt trapped, like a caged bird. Her heart fluttered uncontrollably for a moment, but she forced it to settle. If the Reaper had any untoward designs on her life, he would be committing a massive breach of Hospitality.
"And with your choice, Death's Special Ceremony of Greeting for Immortals shall commence." The Reaper stood to his full height and pulled a thick tome from his sleeve. "This is a ceremony I designed myself, particularly for those of us who either have or will live for tens of thousands of years. While I prepare our tea, perhaps you would like to familiarize yourself with the etiquette involved."
Nyx couldn't help but chuckle as she received the book. It was rather thin, and smelled of metal and processed paper. If she didn't know better, she would assume it had been printed just recently. When Death stepped out of the room, she opened the cover and read aloud from it.
"Death's Special Ceremony of Greeting for Immortals shall be reserved for special guests. These can include foreign dignitaries, royalty, or anyone you deem to be sufficiently important." Nyx beamed at the designation. "During this ceremony, the host will prepare a proprietary blend of tea to the guests' liking. Upon acceptance of the blend, the ceremony itself is not to be interrupted unless there is an emergency. Otherwise, it is considered a massive breach of etiquette and will need to be done from the beginning in order to avoid offending all parties. That makes sense." Nyx turned the page and then frowned. Her fingers clutched the side of the book so hard that the cover became crimped. She flipped through the pages and saw photographs regarding place settings and atmosphere, but nothing that upset her quite as much as that first page.
After a few minutes, Death returned from behind a small screen with a pot of hot water and his tea. He sat down across from her and chuckled as he set a cup in front of her. "Have you read the rules? I heard you should keep things simple when designing your first tea ceremony."
"Is this supposed to be a joke?" Nyx held up the book and kept the venom from her voice. "A trick?"
"Why would my ceremony be a trick? To be honest, I learned firsthand over the summer that there is no right way to do a ceremony that works for everyone. Like any other creative work, you have to make it your own."
"I hardly think you can call this a proper ceremony, though." Nyx's mind raced as she tried to think of a way to get out of this without disrupting Hospitality.
"Why not? This ceremony has been officially documented in a book."
"In just one book," she countered. "I don't know that one book constitutes an official ceremony."
"What would constitute an official ceremony?" asked Death.
Nyx snapped her fingers. "Widespread adoption. Some parts of your ceremony feel...egregious. As a stranger in your lands, it would grant me much relief knowing that this is something that others are actually interested in."
"You are being quite rude." Death sat back and frowned. Nyx was walking a very fine line, and she was aware of it. Still, the Reaper, though powerful, was a bit of a simpleton. She felt confident that she could avoid his so-called Special Ceremony with just a bit more argument.
"I am not attempting to be rude. Rather, I am voicing concerns that this ceremony isn't quite ready for the public."
"I see." Death pulled his cellphone from his pocket and tapped on the screen. After a couple of clicks, he handed it over to her. "What if I told you that other people had purchased this book?"
"I suppose that would be—” Nyx's face went slack when she realized what she was looking at. It was some sort of bar graph. Beneath it was a small graphic with the cover of Death's Tea Ceremony book. "You've...sold...over…ten thousand copies?!?"
"Indeed. I am a bestselling author now in the category of brunch & tea, as well as the number one book in the Amazon store." Death was smug as he tapped the screen. "I don't have any reviews yet, as the book was published yesterday morning. However, I was able to get this advance copy with the help of a friend who is an official Librarian. She was able to get this printed early for me by bumping it to the front of the queue and having some rats bring it to my office. I feel like this is proof that the ceremony itself isn't ill-contrived, don't you agree?"
Nyx's mouth went dry. "I must agree," she said, her voice quiet. The Grim Reaper had yet to tell a lie, and she was flummoxed.
"Indeed. To honor the first part of my ceremony, we will now listen to one of my favorite songs while the tea steeps. You are allowed to sing along if you know the words, but I would prefer that you didn't." With that, the two of them sat through a song titled Don't Fear the Reaper. Once the song was done, Death rose and poured a cup of tea for Nyx, then sat back and poured a cup for himself. Nyx smiled weakly as the two of them raised their cups and clinked them together. She was very careful to avoid cracking her glass or spilling, as the ceremony dictated that any mistake meant they would start over from scratch.
“I greet you, Nyx, also known as the Princess of Fables, a lady of the lake, and She Who Walks the Stars.” Death held the cup delicately and sipped no more than a spoonful before bowing his head until it touched the table.
Nyx forced a smile and raised her cup. According to the book, everyone involved with Death’s Special Ceremony of Greeting for Immortals was supposed to greet each other with all known titles prior to sipping a predetermined amount of tea before bowing their head until it just grazed the table. When everyone was finished, they would clink glasses. They would continue doing this until the entire pot was gone. How this absolute monster had managed to come up with such a ceremony immediately prior to her arrival was a stroke of the worst kind of bad luck.
“I greet you, Death, also known as Humerus D of Club Penguin, Big Tea-Huna, Skinny Henry…”
It was going to be a really long day.
---
The shapeshifter walked along the edge of the yard, its body shifting colors to match the stone wall behind it much like a chameleon. By standing directly against the wall, it was able to avoid casting a shadow, which further decreased its chances of detection. The centaurs were hard at work, though many looked demoralized ever since the princess had charmed them. That had been hours ago, and the beasts worked under the steady eye of an older centauress with feathers woven into her hair. It wasn’t the chieftain, but she did wear similar clothing.
The fae creature moved slowly, not out of a sense of fear, but one of duty. Its body temperature shifted to match the surroundings on the off chance that one of the creatures in the house could sense the difference. Whereas the princess had taken the direct approach of greeting the Radley household, the shapeshifter had a very different approach.
It also had very different handlers. The layers of deception the Unseelie had used to give the shapeshifter its orders borderline broke the rules that the Queen herself had laid out for them. The biggest rule they were to follow was to do no harm to members of the Radley house. To that end, the shapeshifter was actually something more than even the princess suspected.
It was a parasite, a benign one that would do no harm to its host. The shapeshifter simply needed to target a member of the household who lived inside the house, then find a way to infect that person. The centaurs were rarely guests inside the house, so they weren’t the shapeshifter’s targets unless the Caretaker’s son were to make an appearance. It also couldn’t infect the gargoyle, nor did it dare try to do so with the naga or the kitsune.
Right now, the shapeshifter had limited options. The familiar hadn’t been seen recently, and the goblin was isolated in the Library. The nymph was made of water, and would likely notice the shapeshifter’s intrusion. That really just left Grace, one of the rats, or possibly the Caretaker himself. If the shapeshifter could somehow ride along inside of Mike Radley, it would give the Unseelie court untold power over the man and perhaps even the Queen.
Having never met the Queen, the shapeshifter’s loyalty for her was only due to the deep magic scrawled across its very essence. This adherence was the very reason the Unseelie and Seelie wanted to be rid of her, to start making more decisions on their own. They felt like her decisions lately were compromised by her own lack of a mate. The king and queen were meant to be like the Seelie and Unseelie, two sides of the same coin. The nobility were chafing beneath her rule, and if they could somehow prove that Mike was giving her advice as if he was her equal…
The shapeshifter froze in place, suddenly overcome by instinct. Had somebody noticed it? After shifting its innards, the shapeshifter’s eyes closed and then opened on another part of its body, each pupil little more than a pinprick. Over by the side of the house, Grace Radley stood behind Yuki Radley, who was busy pulling a red wagon. The Arachne, clutching a stuffed bear, stared at the shapeshifter as if bypassing its layers of concealment entirely.
“Grace? What is it?” Yuki stopped pulling the wagon and knelt down next to the Arachne. “What are you looking at?”
“Bug.” The Arachne stuck out her tongue as if trying to catch something on it.
“Did you just eat it?”
“Not yet.” Grace turned her unsettling gaze away from the wall and toward her current guardian. “Picnic first.”
Yuki shook her head and kept pulling the wagon. “Where are we setting this up, anyways? We’re almost to the backyard. We should have just gone out the kitchen door.”
The Arachne put a finger in her mouth as if lost in thought, then pointed. “Aunt Amy.”
“Ugh.” Yuki rolled her eyes and resumed pulled the wagon behind them. The shapeshifter watched them turn the corner of the house, then moved faster than before while keeping watch on the house. It occasionally spotted the gargoyle lurking above, but any sound it made was lost in the idle chatter of the centaurs. If the shapeshifter could get to Grace, it just needed to make physical contact with her and then could seep beneath her skin and lie in wait. As long as it stayed away from her arachnid morphology, she and it would be safe. Once they shared the same blood supply, the shapeshifter could easily bypass the restrictions of the geas.
The grass behind the greenhouse was much longer, and the shapeshifter was able to become like a snake and slither through it. The Arachne and the kitsune were busy eating something called burritos, and the shapeshifter was able to move along the back wall until it was behind a small structure that looked like a teahouse. Transforming into a beetle, the shapeshifter walked beneath the teahouse and heard the voice of the princess up above.
“Pale Rider, ImmortaliTea, David Eath of Facebook…” The princess sounded tired as she continued to list off names. The shapeshifter was uncertain what that was about, so continued on its mission.
Between the fae and the Arachne was a large oak tree, home of the resident dryad. Nestled deep in the tree’s branches, the dryad was clutching a book, her head bobbing as she fought the urge to nap. The nymph played in her fountain, the view of the shapeshifter obscured by a series of planters.
“Oh, Grace!” Yuki stood and wiped at her dress. “Why did you do that?”
The shapeshifter scooted around the tree and saw the Arachne holding some sort of bread tube. Beans and rice had squirted out the back of it, coating the kitsune.
“Accident.” Grace flipped her burrito over and shoved the leaking end in her mouth and sucked out the filling.
“I can clean it off for you.” The nymph’s voice was almost a song. “Come here.”
Yuki gave Grace a stern look as she moved over to the fountain, leaving Grace alone and unguarded on her blanket. Nearby, the little red wagon was stacked with snacks and a pillow upon which the stuffed bear in a trenchcoat sat. A single piece of broccoli had been placed between its paws.
Grace was busy watching Naia rinse off Yuki’s kimono when the shapeshifter ran across the space separating them. Remembering what it saw earlier, it turned itself into a fly and buzzed up toward the child. Either it would land on the little girl or she would eat it. Both methods guaranteed success.
Moments before making contact, the Arachne held up a silver bell and gave it a shake. Pain ripped through the shapeshifter as it lost control of its body and fell out of the sky. Twitching in agony, it was unable to move away as the little girl used a napkin to pick it up.
“Bug,” she declared, then dropped the shapeshifter inside of a metal can concealed within the wagon’s contents. The shapeshifter panicked and tried to transform, but its flesh sizzled against the interior of the steel can. It couldn’t see anything, its world had gone dark with the addition of a lid. It tried to fight its way free, but the edges had been pinched shut.
“Jersey treatment,” said Grace as the can was set down. The squeaking of wagon wheels was all the shapeshifter heard as it screamed in fury, its skin burning and healing at the same rate. The shapeshifter’s whole existence was agony now. The touch of steel disrupted its magic, meaning it couldn’t change shapes to escape or send for help.
When the wagon finally came to a stop, the shapeshifter heard the scraping sounds of a hole being dug. After some time, the can was lifted and given a good shake, causing the fae to scream as it bounced around the interior, its skin sticking to the steel like meat to a pan.
Between screams, the shapeshifter heard the sound of soil being compacted above it.