Deceptive Hospitality

The walk into the mysterious Caretaker’s castle took longer than Mike expected. The sheer scale of the thing was hard to contemplate, and the building seemed to expand in size as they grew closer to it.

Finley had followed along with them, appointing himself as de facto tour guide. Most of what the man said held little value. He spent several minutes just naming the various families who lived in town as they passed their homes, shops, and some specialized structures, like the mill. A river ran through part of the town and water wheels had been set up to grind…something. Mike couldn’t actually remember. The castle had too much of his attention.

The gargoyles marching with them didn’t seem menacing, but thanks to Abella, he knew that looks could be deceiving. It wouldn’t take much effort for one of them to turn around and swat his head off of his shoulders. Were they just being friendly? Or were they private security for the so-called Caretaker and escorting Mike and the others to their doom?

The castle was separated from the village by a bridge that spanned a gap nearly a hundred feet across. Mike actually paused to look down into the void and was very surprised to see nothing at all.

“What’s down there?” he asked.

Finley, who had been mid-monologue about the construction of the bridge, shrugged. “Nobody knows,” he said. “Nothing has ever come out of it, so the Caretaker saw no need to investigate it.”

“What, these guys couldn’t fly down there?” Sofia gestured at the gargoyles.

“We have tried,” said one of them. “It becomes dark long before any bottom is discovered. Early investigations more than two centuries ago yielded no results and precious lives were lost.”

“Two centuries?” Mike frowned at Nyx. “So eight hundred years our time? Does that sound right?”

“Avalon has been lost far longer, so perhaps.” She sneered at the gargoyle nearest to her, who immediately backed away. The stone creatures didn’t quite know what to make of Nyx and acted apprehensive while around her. The fae princess moved closer to Mike, which made him uneasy, but he dealt with it. “I shall mention that their words ring of truth. They at least believe what they are saying.”

Aware that the gargoyles could hear whatever they said, he nodded. “I have yet to see a reason that they would mislead us.” Mike spotted a nod of approval from the gargoyle leading them to the castle. These guys were just the muscle. There was no reason to make them angry. Besides, he felt an odd sort of kinship with them. That was probably related to the tiny piece of gargoyle soul floating around inside of him.

“Okay, this bridge is definitely longer than it looked,” said Sofia. “We should have been on the other side already.”

“That’s because the Caretaker’s castle is magical!” Finley grabbed Sofia by the sleeve to get her attention and pointed upward. “The towers will sometimes move when we sleep. There used to be seven of them, according to legend, but one was taken.”

“Taken?” Mike scratched his chin and studied the architecture. The castle didn’t match the style of Yuki’s old home, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. “How do you steal an entire tower?”

“Very carefully.” Suly chuckled. “You jus’ gotta have big pockets, friend.”

Finley pointed up toward the edge of the tower. “It’s easier to see when it's up front on account of the gate that led to its bridge. Next time they rotate, you should take a look, it’ll be the one that opens onto nothing.”

“When will that be?” asked Mike.

“Once every ten cycles.” The closest gargoyle pointed to a smaller tower. “That’s where our tribe stays. It’s important for us to keep track of where we are so that we don’t crash into the cliffs when we leap out into the dark.”

“How did the castle get here?” asked Cecilia.

“That’s a story for the Caretaker to tell you.”

“What’s he like?” asked Mike, probing for any information.

“Oh, he’s a good one, he is.” Finley clapped his hands in excitement. “We don’t see him much. The lord is quite busy, but we do see his vassals all the time. They each have their own tower.”

“How many vassals does he have?”

“Five.” Finley opened his mouth to say more, but a gargoyle moved to block him. “Oh, right. I got you this far, but visitors are the lord’s business. Next time you’re in town, ask for me!”

Nyx smirked. “You’ll be seeing me again.”

Mike winced. Poor fucker. He watched Finley jog back along the bridge to where the other villagers were waiting to ask him all about the new people who had arrived.

“You don’t get many visitors, do you?” asked Sofia.

“It has been many years since someone new has come,” replied the closest gargoyle. “This place is a sanctuary, a haven to protect us from the outside world.”

“Really?” Mike continued walking toward the castle. “What do you think is out there?”

The gargoyle chuckled. It sounded like a jammed rock tumbler. “You would know, human. My tribe were the lucky ones. They fled here many years ago to escape those who would hunt us. This place is our sanctuary. You should know we would do anything to defend it.”

Mike was suddenly aware of all the gargoyles giving him a pointed look. Message received, he thought. “So has the Caretaker always been here, or do you get a new one when he dies?”

This time, all of the gargoyles chuckled. “The lord of the castle was ancient when my tribe first met him. He will likely live longer than any of us,” their leader explained.

“I see.” Mike gazed along the castle walls and was able to spot at least ten more gargoyles watching him. If not for his ability to see souls, he never would have been able to pick them out along the dark stonework. The gentle curves of the castle became sharp corners as they drew closer, the structure almost menacing in appearance. The gate had been lifted by unseen servants long before they arrived, and they stepped into a courtyard that could easily contain his own castle from the real world. It was abundantly clear that the villagers could probably move inside these walls if needed, and maybe at one time had been there. He even spotted a stable off to the side, but there was no sign of any horses.

The gargoyles led them to a large set of stairs that ascended to an opulent entryway. A figure in a robe stood at the top, the door cracked open behind them. The stone guardians flew away, leaving Mike and the others to stand beneath the steps.

“Are you the Caretaker?” asked Mike.

“No.” The figure pulled back the hood of their robe to reveal the face of a pale young man in his late twenties. Dark veins lined his cheeks and there were shadows under his eyes. “The lord of the castle is in the midst of his slumber and shall not be awakened yet.”

“Do you have a name?” asked Nyx.

“I do.” The man gestured to the door. “Allow me to lead you to your rooms.”

“You still haven’t given us your name,” Nyx declared, her fists now balled up at her side.

“You’re quite right.” The man walked inside, leaving the group to stand out in the empty courtyard. Mike turned to the others and sighed.

“Well…I guess we follow him.” He looked over his shoulder at the yawning portal the servant had disappeared through. “I will, anyway. We won’t learn anything by turning back.”

“If we’re allowed to turn back, that is.” Suly jerked his thumb toward the main gate. “Those stone lads may not see fit to let us leave.”

Mike was under the same impression. The gargoyles had seemed pleasant enough, but they were under orders. Other than the weirdness surrounding Naia’s mention at the fountain and the mystery Caretaker himself, there was no evidence they were about to walk into a trap. Chewing at the inside of his lip, he looked up at the castle. It was definitely gothic, with arched windows and towers with conical roofs so sharp that they threatened to pierce the sky. He could even spot sections where the architecture had changed. Whether that was from the original builders dying of old age and new ones taking over or if it was from damage to the structure itself, he had no way of knowing.

As if under a spell, he climbed the stairs and stepped into the castle where the servant waited a short distance down a hallway decorated with paintings and pale, red runners on the floor. The eerie colors of twilight were gone here, replaced by the soft glow of magical torches. Once everyone was inside, the doors closed on their own, causing Mike to stop and look back.

“We were not expecting guests,” said the servant. “We do, however, have rooms prepared for when people from the village may need to come by. They are quite small, so two of you will go to each room.”

“We’d prefer to stay together,” said Mike.

The servant turned to look at them, walking backward on the worn carpet. “You are strangers here,” said the man. “But you are also guests. There will be no more than two guests per room unless they have come with children, in which case they shall not be separated.” The servant sounded like he was reciting something from memory. “Should the Caretaker decide to upgrade your accommodations after your meeting, then you may request a larger room for you and your companions.”

“It should be fine,” said Nyx. “I detect no hostility or subterfuge in offering us rooms with limited space.” The fae’s lips curled. “Should that change, there will be…repercussions.”

They were led down long corridors and up some flights of stairs before the servant stopped at the first room. He pushed the door open to reveal a small sitting room with a bed in the corner.

“It will be many hours before the Caretaker has awakened,” he said. “Please ring the bell if you require assistance. Who will be taking this room?”

“I shall.” Nyx strolled three feet into the room and paused. “The dullahan shall act as my guardian.”

“Sorry, friends. Looks like I’m on the clock.” Sulyvahn smiled weakly and followed Nyx into the room. The fae princess sat on a lounge chair and kicked off her boots. As the door shut, Mike heard her tell Sulyvahn that she wanted a foot rub.

It was several minutes later before they arrived at the next room. If Mike was correct, they were now inside one of the towers that rotated. The servant revealed a slightly larger room than before with a massive bed inside.

“I’ll take this one,” said Sofia with a yawn. “I could use a nap.”

Cecilia and Cerberus both looked at Mike optimistically. He screwed up his face, wondering who should stay with the cyclops. Could Cecilia even go incorporeal here? In terms of safe decisions, he knew that Sofia could protect Cecilia better than he could.

That, and if this really was a trap, he was the target. Cerberus would be able to handle almost anything thrown at him. He turned to Cecilia and took her hand.

“Keep her out of trouble,” he said, tilting his head toward the door. The banshee looked disappointed, but she nodded and walked inside. After a few seconds, the door closed by itself.

“I might need to look into a similar system for my own home,” he said to the servant. “Doors get left open all the time. I could save a fortune on my heating and cooling bills.” After several moments of silence, he continued. “What is the heating bill in a place like this? It’s not like you can source your own wood. The island tries to kill you when you do. Maybe you’ve got some of those murder trees in the fireplace, burning as fast as they grow, right?”

The servant looked at him with dull eyes. “This way to your room.” He turned and walked away. Mike rolled his eyes and followed. No other words were exchanged as they ascended what Mike now referred to as the guest tower. They moved up more flights of stairs before eventually stopping at a room near the top of the tower. When Mike walked inside, he saw that it was the smallest of the three. There was a bed and a couch with a window that overlooked the village. Down below, Mike could see the villagers milling about by torchlight. It was already getting dark again.

“So is this the Rapunzel suite? If I need service, should I just let down my—” He turned to see that the servant had already left, leaving Cerberus as his audience.

“Dick,” he muttered under his breath, then moved to sit on the couch. Cerberus joined him, sitting on the opposite side and hiking up her skirt to reveal her shoes.

“Rub. My. Feet?” she asked.

“Is this because Nyx asked Sulyvahn to do it?” He pulled off the soft leather shoes that Cerberus wore and tossed them to the ground. The clothes that the hellhound had in her human form followed the same rules as Lily’s. If he were to throw them out the window, they would puff away into magical smoke. Unlike Lily, Cerberus needed to transform completely to resummon her outfits.

“Maybe. A. Little.” Cerberus grinned at him and wiggled their toes.

“Well, then, you’re in for a treat.” He picked a foot at random and gave it a playful squeeze. Cerberus jerked it away, all three heads giggling.

“That. Tickles. Master.”

“Feet are weird that way.” He captured her foot again and was gentler this time. Cerberus’ human feet had thick pads reminiscent of their dog form. When he started rubbing the spot between her big toe and the rest, he paused to inspect her foot. “Did you make your nails this way or did someone help you?”

“Grace. Painted. Them.” Cerberus wiggled their rainbow-colored nails. “We. Liked. It. So. Kept. It.”

“That kid. I’m starting to wonder if everyone likes her more than me.” He grinned thinking about his daughter, but the smile melted away. It had already been, what, a full day for him? Or had it been longer? That meant four days away from his kids. He did a mental tally. How many days was it until Halloween? He had promised Callisto that he’d take him trick or treating and show him what it was like in the human realm. His son had even picked out that costume from Scream, which he would outgrow by next year.

Those were just his kids. Poor Tink was likely halfway to madness with nothing to do. Even when she was just screwing around, the goblin was always working on something. Why was he just sitting around here, waiting for what happens next? He should be roaming the halls right now and loudly demanding answers.

Logically, that was the wrong thing to do. Now that he had a spare minute to process all these thoughts, they threatened to drown him in his own feelings of inadequacy. Because of this mission, Yuki was forced to pick up more slack than she deserved. Sure, Abella and Naia were there to help out, but the nymph was limited to the bath and fountain while Abella wasn’t necessarily able to walk around the house with his daughter. Maybe he should have sent her to stay with the centaurs. She would at least have her brother, then—

“You. Are. Distracted.” Cerberus lifted a foot and wiggled their toes. “You. Stopped. Rubbing.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.” Mike squeezed the foot in his hands, applying pressure along their arches.

“What’s. The. Matter?” Cerberus cocked two heads in one direction and the third in another.

“Just bothered is all. I’d rather be home, but I need to see this through, just in case.”

“Doing. Your. Best.” Cerberus smiled at him. “Master. Always. Tries.”

“Yeah, well, I’m all wound up right now. I need to relax.”

“Cerberus. Can. Help.” The hellhound stuck her other foot in Mike’s crotch and rubbed his cock. “Master. Can. Relax.”

Mike raised an eyebrow. His magic unraveled, traveling the lengths of his body and demanding that he take Cerberus up on their offer. “I suppose we could arrange something, but then I wouldn’t be rubbing your foot anymore.”

The hellhound kept pressing their foot against Mike's cock, their toes surprisingly dextrous. "You. Keep. Rubbing," they said, smoothly undoing his belt and tugging down the front of his pants with their foot. He lifted his hips to make the process easier, suddenly aware that he could see directly up Cerberus' skirt from his current position. The hellhound had manifested with stockings and garters, but there wasn't any underwear. “Cerberus. Help. Master.”

"Have you been getting fashion advice from Lily?" he asked with a grin.

"Don't. Need. Them," they replied.

His cock was now free of his pants and growing harder by the second. He had never really thought about how dextrous they could be with their feet, but it made plenty of sense. In hellhound form, they didn't have thumbs and did everything with paws. Toes were probably a step up in flexibility.

His thoughts were proven correct when Cerberus promptly grabbed the head of his cock between their toes and started stroking him. He sighed and continued rubbing one foot while the other jerked him off. Three pairs of eyes watched him intensely as Cerberus dropped their hands down to their exposed crotch.

"That. Feels. Good," they said.

"What you're doing or what I'm doing," he asked.

"What. You're. Doing." Two heads grinned at him while the third blew him a kiss. Mike didn't know how long they had, and was content to let Cerberus set the pace. The hellhound got creative in her ministrations, occasionally stopping to masturbate quietly while Mike massaged their feet.

With his magic uncurled and hungry for more, Mike lifted the foot he had been rubbing to his mouth and kissed Cerberus’ toes, then sucked on them a little. The action did little for him, but he got quite the reaction from Cerberus. The head on the left moaned, eyes rolling back in her head. The center head blushed and started panting. The right head quietly whimpered.

Interesting, he thought to himself. Did the heads experience pleasure differently? Based on what he knew, the heads were separate personalities while Cerberus itself was one entity. Could they develop different kinks? How much overlap existed between the three of them already?

After sucking on their toes for a bit, Mike switched feet. The wet foot immediately dropped to his crotch, jacking him off while he worked his literal magic on the other one. Sparks of light crept up well toned calves and crawled along the outside of Cerberus' labia before jumping between their fingers and their clitoris. The side heads were whimpering now while the center head continued to pant. Cerberus stopped playing with themselves long enough to undo the straps of their dress and peel it down, revealing all three breasts.

Leaning forward, Cerberus pretty much folded in half and grabbed Mike by the thighs with their hands. They pulled their foot off of his cock and placed their breasts around it, capturing it between those large, fleshy mounds. Now that it was slippery with spit, it slid easily between their breasts, the glans popping free as if to say hello. Each head took turns kissing and licking his cock while they titty-fucked him on the couch.

"You've gotten real good at that," Mike groaned, leaning back and allowing Cerberus to do all the work. He let go of her feet, allowing her better access to his body.

The hellhound alternated breasts, each tongue hungrily seeking the tip of his cock. Sometimes, if the center head caught it, the other two were able to suck on the sides. Other times, a side head was given full control while the other two heads made out with each other. Mike's magic was dancing all over the hellhound's body, causing the creature to whimper as a sense of urgency built.

When they stopped blowing him, it was to climb up his body and mount him. In his half-seated position, it was easy enough to grab Cerberus by the hips and guide his cock inside them. The trio sang a symphony of pleasure as he fucked them slowly, taking time to play with their breasts. It was the one part of the hellhound's human form directly connected to each accompanying head, and he delighted in seeing what sounds he could capture from each one.

There were few pleasures in life that exceeded having your mouth and hands full of boobs. Mike licked and bit the central nipple while toying with the others, making sure to lift his hands on occasion to allow the magic to zap them. Cerberus had incredibly tough skin and was very receptive to the kind of treatment he usually reserved for Tink. Able to be as rough as he wanted, he squeezed those breasts as hard as he could, grinning as Cerberus continued to grind on his cock. The hellhound’s top-heavy nature made it easy for him to stay buried deep inside, and every roll of their hips sent shivers up his spine.

Cerberus clutched his head to their chest, the tempo between them now increasing. The combination of whimpering and moaning was simply delightful, and he wrapped them up in his magic, commanding it to flow through their body like a river.

“Cerberus. Loves. Master,” they moaned. “Breed. Us. Master!”

“Mmm?” Mike opened his mouth, releasing the intense suction on the nipple. He knew for a fact that hellhounds couldn’t get pregnant, so wondered where this was coming from. “You want to be bred?”

As soon as he asked, he felt a fresh flow of liquid around his cock as Cerberus clamped down on him. They all moaned, then put their hands on his shoulder to balance themselves to avoid toppling over.

“Breed. Us. Master.” Each head was staring deep into his eyes, and he wasn’t quite sure where to look. “Claim. Our. Pussy.”

The dirty talk in surround sound was kind of weird, but his magic was practically humming now and feeding him info. Cerberus knew they couldn’t be bred, but that didn’t matter. It was the roleplay that they craved and he wasn’t about to deny them.

“I don’t have to claim anything,” said Mike as he leaned forward. This action caused Cerberus to tilt over backward, but he guided their descent. “You see, this pussy is already mine. Nobody gets to come inside it but me.”

One head whimpered. Another gasp. The third was now panting so hard that she was drooling.

“This is my pussy to come in, Cerberus. Only mine!” He had tilted them all the way onto their back, pausing to grab their tail and move it to the side to avoid crushing it. Obedience, love, and devotion were just a few of the things he found in their eyes as they wrapped their legs around his waist. “I’m going to fill you up with puppies. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Two heads nodded. The third playfully nipped at his shoulder and growled.

“Breed. Us,” said the two heads as Cerberus draped their hands over his shoulders. “Make. Us.” There was a long dramatic pause as the third head realized it had dropped the ball and spat Mike’s shoulder out. “Pregnant!” it added.

“Yeah, I’ll breed you. I’ll fill you up, and do you know why?” He increased his tempo, thrusting deeper than before. Cerberus tilted their hips up to meet his. “Because Cerberus is a good girl, aren’t you?”

Six eyes all went wide as he fucked the hellhound. Fingernails dug into his back as he pounded them, whispering dirty words into their ears. He took turns kissing each head; his neck, shoulders, and ears now fair game to be nibbled on. Every time he called Cerberus a good girl, he felt their vagina tighten as if to pin him down. Magic danced all across the room now, motes of light turning into tiny ethereal flames that chased each other like fireflies.

Cerberus came, one head at a time. What started as the cries of a human woman soon became the howls of a proper hellhound. Mike’s magic pounced, wrapping the two of them together. As Cerberus bucked beneath him, their strength exceeded his and the two of them tumbled off the couch and onto the floor. This caused Cerberus to end up on top, and they leaned back, hands clutching his shins as they rode him.

Groaning, Mike let the magic consume him. He didn’t know how long it was before he finally busted inside of Cerberus, but when he did, the cycle started anew and Cerberus howled once more. Each head seemed to experience the orgasms differently, which meant that they were often out of sync with each other.

One head continuously cried “Yes!” for several long seconds while the other two howled. They no longer spoke together, as if they were now three separate entities. Mike used his thumb to rub their clit, concentrating the magical sex loop on the hellhound. They didn’t often get the chance to do this and he wanted to make the experience memorable. His own fluids squeezed free of Cerberus as they continued to fuck him, causing a proper mess along their thighs and his stomach.

Eventually, they fell limp on top of him, all gasping for air. Grabbing Cerberus by the ass, Mike continued to fuck them on his own from underneath, his cock twitching as he came two more times, each one creating a cascade of happy whimpers. By the time he was finished, he laid back and let out a sigh.

“I needed that,” he said, running his hands through Cerberus’ hair. “You really are a good girl.”

Their vagina tightened up and they moaned. He didn’t know if it was a tiny orgasm or just an aftershock, but it didn’t matter. Holding Cerberus tight against him, he just let them be.

After quite a bit of time, the hellhound slid free of him, then moved to his crotch to clean him up with a trio of tongues. This only served to get him hard once more. When they noticed, each head gave him a smirk and they turned around and got on all fours, waving their ass in the air for him.

Mike chuckled and rose, grabbing Cerberus by the ass to steady himself.

“It belongs to me,” he declared as he slid his cock home, and the howling started anew.

---

Beth was sitting in the office when Death walked in.

“Oh, Mademoiselle Bethany.” The Grim Reaper bowed deeply, clutching a large paper sack to his chest. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“We need to talk,” said Beth. “But first, where the heck have you been all morning?”

“I have been extremely curious about the human diet and folk remedies of late.” Death hugged the bag as if afraid Beth would take it. “You see, I heard stories that there is sometimes an overlap between old wives’ tales and current medical knowledge that can be quite exciting.”

“Old wives’ tales?” Beth raised an eyebrow.

“A colloquialism. Knowledge of the ancient herbal realm isn’t gender specific, but now I’ve wasted a lot of words trying to defend my choice of language. I am quite busy you see—”

“What’s in the bag?”

“My personal property.”

“What’s in the bag?” Beth sat on the desk and crossed her arms.

“Some stuff I bought.”

“Death…”

The two of them faced each other down, the bag in Death’s hands crinkling as he shifted it back and forth.

“Would you believe me if I said it’s actually better if I don’t tell you?” Death lifted his chin and grinned at her.

“You know I’ll find out.” Beth stood up and walked toward him. “And the longer it takes me, the angrier I will get.”

Death rolled his eye lights. “I wish to remind you that I am the personification of every mortal’s end. I do not fear you.”

“I will mix up your loose-leaf tea.” Beth mimed shaking a large can. “I’ll do it by color first, so you won’t realize it until you take that first sip. Then I’ll start doing it in increments, just a little bit of the gunpowder green mixed in with the chamomile.”

“Scoundrel!” Death glared at her over the top of his bag. “I don’t fear you, but I do fear the inconvenience of being forced to purchase new tea every time I leave it unattended. For your information, I have been out purchasing different kinds of iron supplements. In fact, here.” He reached into the bag and tossed her a bottle. “I must insist you start taking it right away.”

“I don’t think this will help with your faerie problem.”

“It might not help, but it certainly can’t…” Death’s jaw hung open with realization. “You know?”

“I’ve read in between the lines.” She pulled the coin out of her pocket. Every time she went outside, it grew warm to the touch. “They can’t read my thoughts because I’m on retainer for Mike.”

“Then…” Death rubbed at his jaw. “Hmm. How did you figure it out?”

Beth picked up a pair of bells she had found dismantled and tossed behind a bush at the entrance. “I’m more concerned that you conned Grace into being your little helper. Does she even know what she’s doing?”

“Well…not in so many words. I explained to her that we were working on some projects for Tinker Radley, who can no longer attend to the maintenance of this house.”

“Explain the salt in the windowsills.”

“Salt is a natural repellent for insects.” Death gestured toward the window. “In fact, with the air cooling down, it’s entirely possible that all sorts of them wish to come inside our house. Gracelynn Radley agreed to help me with pest control.”

“The bells?”

“Ambience, and a project she could work on. She is a child whose mother-figure is currently unwell.”

“Anything else?”

Death shrugged. “I may have added extra iron to the house in a few places. Used too many nails to secure a piece of siding. I’m still new at construction and mistakes will be made. Oh, that reminds me. I should warn whoever does Gracelynn’s laundry that she is carrying extra nails in her pockets.”

Beth frowned. “Who…actually does the laundry around here?”

“Mike Radley, mostly. Tinker goaded him into it, said something about how he does the best loads.” Death cocked his head. “There is a small pile of laundry in Gracelynn’s closet. I should probably assist with it.”

“Have someone help you. Now, is anyone else part of your scheme?”

“Eulalie. She sourced my books for me and I explained enough of the situation that she knows not to leave the Library until it blows over.”

Beth pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay, it sounds like everything you’ve told me falls under plausible deniability.”

“Naturally.”

“How did you trap the faerie? Is it still alive?”

Death studied her for a moment, and his eye lights flickered from blue to red, then back again. “What faerie?”

Beth studied Death. Would the Reaper lie to her? No, that wasn’t something he did. Which meant…

“Fuck,” she muttered. “Okay, so here’s the deal.” She explained what had happened down at the lake, along with the Unseelie that had been rather aggressive with her. Death listened quietly as he unloaded iron supplements onto the desk, then stopped to open a bottle with chewable ones inside.

“Hmm.” Death popped roughly ten iron gummies in his mouth and chewed on them. At some point, he swallowed. The only reason Beth knew was that his eye lights dimmed momentarily and now his mouth was empty. “I am rather bothered by the idea of a missing faerie on the property. Has it somehow made it inside?”

“I spoke with Naia. The means of bypassing the geas are pretty specific. Some type of blood magic on Mike would do it, but we don’t know if that also applies to his children. We also don’t know if the children could grant somebody permission to come inside. It’s not like we meet new people all the time we could test it on.” Beth moved to sit in a nearby leather chair. “So we have to risk the possibility of something sneaking in.”

“What should we do with it?”

“Well, a creature sneaking in to spy on us would be a pretty vicious breach of Hospitality. We could do whatever we wanted with it. But it would have to actually make it inside, first.” She didn’t quite enjoy the idea of trying to figure out what to do with an errant faerie in the home. Beth put two fingers in her mouth and unleashed a piercing whistle.

“What are you doing?” asked Death.

“Reinforcements.” Beth waited. Soon enough, Carmina zoomed into the room, covered in honey.

“You called?” she asked, her wings fluttering as she cleaned her antennae off with both hands, then consumed the sticky treat.

“Why are you covered in honey?” asked Beth.

“No reason you want to hear,” replied Carmina. “It’s probably best that you never find out.”

Beth’s eyelid twitched, but she decided to let it go. “We’ve never really talked about this, but we consider you and your sisters to be fairies, but not necessarily fae. Is there actually a difference between you?”

Carmina stuck out a hand and waggled it back and forth. “We’re actually fae-adjacent. The Queen took in our kind as an act of pity.”

“So she didn’t create you?”

Carmina shook her head. “While I can’t speak to our kind being created, I do know that we came from somewhere else. Because we were so much like the fae, we were allowed to travel their lands freely, for better or for worse. They were very dangerous for us, though, so a bunch of us decided to stay on Earth instead.”

“I see. So it’s kind of like convergent evolution.”

The fairy grinned and did a little loop in the air. A glob of honey fell on the carpet. “If you say so!”

“So if you aren’t related, you probably can’t magically detect other fae.”

Carmina shrugged. “No, but we’ve gotten pretty good at spotting them. A lot of fae like to capture us for food or other reasons.” She was about to say something else when the sound of tiny feet on hardwood announced the arrival of another fairy. It was Cerulea, who was covered in honey so thick that her wings couldn’t open.

“I came as fast as—hi, Carmina!” The little beetle fairy waved at her sister. “Fancy seeing you here!”

“Okay, here’s the deal.” Beth looked at both of the fairies. “We have reason to believe a fae creature snuck into the house.”

“WHAT?!?” cried both fairies in alarm.

“Yep. If it’s here, it’s hiding. I can’t think of anyone better at hide and seek than the four of you. If you find it, you will all get a really big prize.”

“How big is the prize?” asked Carmina.

“I can’t say,” said Beth. “It’s pretty big, though. Enormous, even.”

“Whoa,” whispered both fairies.

“But you have to find the hidden fae creature. It will only be inside the house. Do not look for any fae outside of the house, they don’t count.” Beth smiled. “Also, all four of you get the prize no matter who finds it. When you find it, you need to come find me or one of the other adults right away, okay? Oh, and one more thing. This thing is probably dangerous, and will absolutely eat you if it can. This is a very important job that I think only you can do. So clean yourselves up and get to it.”

Both fairies saluted and left. Well, Carmina did, anyway. Cerulea had to waddle back through her own honey trail and ended up stuck. Death knelt down and flicked the little beetle-girl out of her mess.

“Thank you,” she shouted, then continued on her way.

“Where’s Grace?” asked Beth.

“She is outside with Yuki Radley,” Death replied. “She does not like being cooped up inside. I promised her that we would go decorate the walls later with some more bell art, and—”

“No more home improvement projects with Grace,” said Beth. “I appreciate what you’ve done so far, but we would all be safer to just remain inside.”

“But then how will I get my Amazon packages?” asked Death.

Beth narrowed her eyes. “Perhaps have them shipped somewhere else? Eulalie can open a portal for you to any number of places.”

“I…you are correct.” Death looked at the bag of supplements. “I am unsure what to do with all of these.”

“You’ll figure it out later.” Beth left the Reaper behind and went outside. The coin in her pocket flared hot for just a moment, and she felt a heavy presence push in on the corners of her mind. It was identical to the Unseelie presence from the night before. That fucker was lurking nearby. Beth searched the perimeter of the yard, taking care to look at each of the centaurs. They had inadvertently gotten sucked into this, too. When she was done here, she intended to go talk to Zel.

Yuki and Grace were over by the garage. The Arachne was scampering along the roof, poking at some leaves that had already fallen into the gutters of the structure and pulling them out. The kitsune turned toward Beth and waved.

“Just a little bit of maintenance,” said Yuki. “Since Grace is being such a good helper these days.”

“Helper,” Grace repeated, then tossed down a stone she had found. “Decorate yard. Catch pests.”

Beth frowned. “Have you caught any pests, Grace?”

The Arachne nodded. “Bugs,” she said.

“How many bugs have you caught?”

Grace held up a finger on one hand and four on the other. “Bugs want inside. Catch in jar. Jersey treatment.”

Yuki made a face. “I haven’t seen her catch anything,” said the kitsune. “It’s probably just a game she’s playing. But I also spent some time putting up wards around the property, so I guess it’s possible.”

“At least she isn’t eating them. They might give her a stomachache.” Beth turned her full attention to the kitsune. “With Mike gone, Tink laid up, and the weather turning, we have a lot of work to do inside. It might be better to focus our efforts inside the house, starting now.”

“Really?” Yuki contemplated Beth for a moment. “You…don’t think we should be outside anymore?”

Beth shook her head. “Our time would be better spent inside.” In her pocket, that coin was now giving off enough heat that she thought it may burn her. Yuki cocked her head to one side and frowned.

“Someone is inside my head,” she muttered. Her tails swished behind her in irritation, the two golden ones blazing with light. Frost formed along the ground beneath her.

“I wouldn’t,” cautioned Beth.

“You are correct.” Yuki’s eyes narrowed as she looked along the edge of the property. “Come, Grace. Let us head inside. It’s past your lunch time anyway.”

The little Arachne jumped off the roof, flipping over in mid-air to land silently next to Yuki. She paused to pick up a nearby backpack which Beth recognized as Tick Tock. Beth was glad to see that the little girl at least had two powerful protectors around at all times.

The group went to the front of the house where Beth watched them go inside. She turned around to look back at the yard and saw a dark figure standing near the center of the hedge maze. Though the shadow wore a hooded cloak that hid its features, she could still sense the malevolence lingering behind its gaze.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she said.

Maybe you should be. The fae’s thoughts were like slime, clinging to the inside of her head.

“You’re also not welcome here,” she declared. “I’ve fucked scarier things.”

The fae didn’t have a response for this. It just stood and watched as she walked across the yard to the shortcut portal that would take her to Zel’s village. She looked back one more time before crossing through to see if the Unseelie was still watching her.

It had vanished.

---

Mike was busy dozing in the medieval equivalent of a loveseat with Cerberus snuggled against him when someone knocked on the door. He scooted free of the hellhound, who watched him cross the room, each head yawning one after the other. He opened the door to see the same man who had led them to their room.

"The Caretaker will see you now," he said, then stepped into the room. "You have been officially summoned."

"What of the others?" asked Mike, fussing with his shirt and pants. They were all twisted up from sleeping in them. He and Cerberus had gotten dressed before their nap to avoid getting called upon while naked.

"They have already been collected and you will see each other shortly."

Mike studied the man's face, trying to discern the truth. The guy's soul was so odd to look at that he couldn't see any fluctuations at all. If anything, it was almost like it had been drained down to nearly nothing. As Mike studied it further, he saw a thin tendril of soul that stretched off and away from them.

"You're staring," said the man. Servant? Butler? Mike had no idea what his actual job title was.

"So I am," Mike replied. "Will probably stare at the Caretaker, too. Is that a problem?"

"I cannot say." The servant's features were flat, and there wasn't a flicker of emotion anywhere in his soul. No amusement, irritation...nothing.

"Great, well, let's go, then." Mike helped Cerberus off of the lounge and the three of them exited the room. When the door closed quietly behind them, Mike looked back and saw a pair of spectral hands, followed by the wispy trail of a spirit.

Interesting, he thought to himself and then followed the man down the hallway. They passed through a couple of different rooms on their way to see the Caretaker. Each hallway was lit with torches that held glowing stones.

"Is that magic?" asked Mike, hoping to get the man to say something.

"Yes."

When nothing else came, Mike continued talking. "So is it a spell that the Caretaker cast?"

"No."

Mike rolled his eyes. Cerberus followed right next to him, their arm wrapped around his. He knew that part of the reason for this was because of what they had done earlier, but the rest was protective instinct. If something happened, this hallway was plenty big enough for Cerberus to safely transform. Nobody had batted an eye at the three-headed goth girl, but the real surprise would come if they transformed and slagged the place with hellfire.

Their footsteps were soft on the long, luxurious carpets that ran through the hallways. Painted portraits were placed every ten feet or so, each one a snapshot of yesteryear. There were people having picnics by rivers, several still-lifes of flowers and fruit, and more than a few paintings of apples. Every now and then, there would be a painting of a person, but there didn't seem to be any pattern to their appearance. Whoever they were, they didn't seem related.

"Who painted all of these?" asked Mike.

"Different people." The servant actually stopped and pointed to a painting of a child. "These portraits are painted by Lady Charlotte. She would want me to tell you that they were people who lived in the village below."

"They don't live there now?" asked Mike.

"These ones do not." The servant continued walking. "She typically displays paintings only after her subjects have passed, as a way to remember them."

"I...see." Mike frowned at the portrait of a chubby girl who was probably six years old. He leaned closer to inspect the image and felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Do not touch the paintings," said the servant, who had moved so fast that Mike hadn't seen him. Cerberus growled in warning, but Mike put his hand over theirs.

"It's fine," he said. "The man is just doing his job."

The servant nodded, then led them onward. Mike couldn’t tell if the castle was really this big or the servant was taking them the long way to buy some time.

Eventually, they reached an opulent door carved from a black wood he didn’t recognize. Standing outside of it were a pair of guards, both of them ominously still. Mike examined them and noticed they had the same issue as the servant did. Their souls were weak and tethered to something inside the room.

The servant knocked on the door and it opened to reveal a long wooden table going from left to right. There were several gilded seats on each side, and Sofia, Nyx, Cecilia, and Sulyvahn were already present, and seated at the table.

“Announcing Mike Radley and his escort.”

“Looks like we’re late,” said Mike as he walked in. The soul threads led directly to the opposite wall, through which he supposed the lord of the castle intended to make his entrance. Unfortunately, once he took his eyes off of the servant and the guards, he lost sight of the threads.

Good to know, he thought. Every time he learned a new trick, there seemed to be a limitation to it. His choice of seating was either next to Nyx or Cecilia, so he chose the banshee. Though Nyx had agreed that they were united in this endeavor, he had no desire to actually sit next to her, especially with sharp implements at hand. She might stick a fork in him and explain how it somehow doesn’t violate the rules they set forth.

“His lord’s vassals will now be summoned.” The servant bowed his head. “Can we offer you something to drink?”

“Um…” Mike looked at the others, then Sofia. Technically, only the two of them required food. “What are the options?”

“Water. Apple juice. Apple brandy.”

“Just water for me,” Mike said.

“I’ll have water, too.” Sofia watched the man leave, then relaxed in her seat. “Your servant is friendlier than ours. She wouldn’t say a word.”

“They are thralls,” said Nyx, who picked up a fork and inspected it. It was made from black wood that had been polished until it shined. “Their will belongs to those who own them.”

“Thralls?” Mike already didn’t like where this was going. “I’ve heard that term before.”

“Magically enforced slavery,” said Sofia. “Typically, anyway. Sometimes it’s voluntary, but usually it’s not.”

“What sorts of creatures have thralls?” asked Mike.

“Could be several different kinds, honestly. Demons can have them, and you are very aware of how broad that definition can be.”

Mike nodded. The more he learned about demons, the more he understood that it was essentially a catch-all phrase that could mean anything. To some cultures, Yuki was a demon. To others, they were fallen angels expelled from heaven and then returned from Hell itself. Lily had actually gotten into a nasty fight with one of them, a real piece of shit that called itself Legion.

“So we could be dealing with anything.”

“Indeed.” Sofia turned her head as one of the chamber doors opened. It was another servant, this one with a face the color of dull chalk wearing a white livery with a black, upside down cross embroidered on the front.

“Announcing the arrival of his lord’s vassals.” The androgynous servant’s voice sounded wheezy, as if from disuse. They stepped to one side and stared toward the far side of the room. “Lady Charlotte, she who keeps the children.”

A young woman with a slightly crooked nose walked in with a disgruntled look on her face. Thick auburn locks of hair tumbled down to gather around her waist, and she wore a crimson provincial dress with a white apron in the front. She didn’t bother making eye contact with the others. Her soul was her own, but seemed to be in turmoil, as if caught in a storm.

“Wonder what that’s about?” he muttered as the woman moved to the farther side of the table to sit. So this was the woman who had created all of those paintings. She looked miserable.

“Announcing Lord Gerard, who keeps the library.” A brooding man in a cloak stepped into the room and stopped, his dark eyes intensely focused on Mike and the others. He said nothing, then moved to sit across from Charlotte. The two vassals pointedly ignored each other. Could this Gerard be the one who had left the message for Charles? He looked similar to the man from the magical vision, but Lord Gerard carried himself more like a wounded animal than anything else.

“You have a library?” Sofia sat up straighter in her seat. “I’d be very interested in—”

“Announcing Lady Cecilia, who attends to the dying.”

Mike lifted an eyebrow and looked to his own Cecilia, who just shrugged, then turned his attention to the door. A blonde woman in a regal gown came through the door, her feet hovering above the ground. She stopped and bowed low to everyone, then floated over to the table where she sat next to Charlotte.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” she said, her voice wispy. Nyx was glaring daggers at the woman, and Mike thought he knew why. The blonde Cecilia’s soul was a nasty looking thing, all twisted and colored like a scab. If he was reading it correctly, then it was rife with deception.

“You attend to the dying?” asked Sulyvahn.

“I do,” she replied. “I am a banshee, who sings for those about to die and then brings them to the lord for their final rites.” As if to illustrate, she opened her mouth and sang something in a language Mike didn’t recognize. It wasn’t a song of mourning, not like the real Cecilia could sing. The woman wasn’t a specter of any kind, either. Mana swirled around her body, holding her aloft. It was an intentional deception, but for what purpose?

The servant at the door loudly cleared his throat. A dark-skinned woman stood there in a brown dress embroidered with leaves. “Announcing Lady Amymone, who attends to the forest.”

The woman walked in and sat down across from the false Cecilia. Magical tendrils emanated outward from her feet as she walked along the floor. “I am responsible for the apple orchard,” she said. “I am a dryad, bound to serve the land and its people. I keep them fed.”

“Just the orchard?” Mike scratched at his chin, trying to look thoughtful instead of annoyed by the bullshit. “Or all of the trees on the island?”

Amymone grinned. Mike detected a magical glamor across her face, but didn’t say anything. He wondered what she was hiding. “The forest that protects the island is also my domain. I’m surprised you were able to pierce it.”

“It wasn’t easy.” He looked at the others, who seemed content to let him do all the talking. “So why do you have a murder forest in the first place?”

“For protection,” announced a man standing in the door. He wore white robes with a red cross embroidered on the chest and walked with a slight stoop.

“Announcing Lord Galahad, who serves the people.” The servant shut the door behind Galahad, who was already walking toward the table. The man looked old, his dark beard peppered with strands of white.

“Galahad? As in the tale of King Arthur?” When Sofia spoke, Galahad actually flinched as if struck.

“A coincidence, I assure you.” The man took a lone seat near the end of the table. “The Caretaker will be along shortly and all will be made clear.”

“So…what can you tell me about this place before he arrives?” Mike gestured vaguely behind him. “As far as I can tell, you’ve created your own little world out there from the remains of Avalon.”

“You know of Avalon?” Galahad locked eyes with Mike. “Do they still speak of it?”

“They do. There are a bunch of stories about anything related to King Arthur, really. The legend is pretty much fodder for every Young Adult author or movie executive who wanted to cash in on a fantasy tale but couldn’t come up with their own world building.” Mike shrugged. “I won’t even get into what Fate Stay Night did with the whole thing. Not that it matters to you, since you aren’t Sir Galahad of the Knights of the Round Table.”

“You speak in riddles I do not comprehend, but truth in the end. I am not that man.” Galahad looked down at his hands in obvious shame.

“But you wear his emblem on your garment,” said Sofia, calling him out. “And bear his name.”

“A coincidence, I assure you.”

“You are familiar with Arthurian lore as well?” asked Amymone, a playful smile on her face. When Mike looked at her, his instincts screamed danger. He rubbed his hands together as if his fingers were sore. In reality, he was summoning magic into the palms of his hands, just in case, and wanted to hide the glow.

“I’m something of a librarian myself.” Sofia’s tone was cold. The sense of wrongness that pervaded this meeting had only increased, but Mike had no way to communicate with her without being overhead. Nyx had actually pressed her nails into the table so hard that she had gouged the wood.

“Interesting.” The voice that filled the dining room made Mike’s stomach drop, but he couldn’t explain why. A cold sweat broke out across his brow and he looked in the direction where the herald’s soul thread disappeared through the wall. A secret panel slid open and a nondescript man stepped out, dressed in simple dark robes and a cape. The vassals rose as he neared the table, so Mike and the others mimicked them.

Nyx did not. The newcomer stood at the head of the table, his crimson pupils focused on Sofia. Mike noticed that the man walked with a cane, but it seemed more an accessory than a tool.

“I should love to hear about your library,” said the man as he moved to the last remaining seat, which had just been set at the end of the table by a servant. With a dismissive wave, he commanded the vassals to sit. “But first, I would like to properly welcome you to my home. My name is Vincentius. I am the Caretaker.”

Mike had trouble looking at the man’s face. Whenever he looked right at him, his attention wandered immediately. Vincentius seemed to notice this, and a light smile crossed his lips.

“Caretaker of what, exactly?” asked Mike.

“This world. Please, sit.” Vincentius leaned on his cane as he sat at the table. “I was so surprised to hear that we had visitors. It has been many decades since anyone has wandered in from the outside world.”

“I wonder why that is? Maybe it’s the murder forest you’ve got around the place.”

Vincentius chuckled and waved a hand. “That is for our own protection, I assure you.”

“Protection from what?” asked Mike.

“Why, the mortal realm, of course.” Before Vincentius could say anything more, servants entered pushing trays of food. “Ah, but before we speak of your world, I wonder if you would indulge me. People do not simply stumble into this place, so I am curious if you have come for refuge or immortality.”

Mike frowned. “I guess neither, technically. Someone I love is dying of old age.”

Vincentius chuckled and shook his head. “Time is the thief of all things, is it not? You will learn eventually that clinging to those whose time is up will only lead to pain and grief.”

“Right, but she’s being magically aged.”

“Oh?” Vincentius raised an eyebrow. “A spell, then.”

“Kind of. Her life force is being drained away. I read a book that suggested people could come here to be healed.”

“What book would that be?” The man frowned. “I’m not aware of any literature that describes my home.”

“A journal,” said Mike. “It belonged to a man named Charles. Someone left a secret message in the back that led me here.”

“I see.” Vincentius turned toward Gerard. “It would seem that your little mistake has finally caught up to you, Gerard.”

“I apologize,” whispered Gerard. “I was young and foolish, then.”

Interesting. Even with the time discrepancy, Gerard should be practically ancient. Was there something similar to the fountain of youth here? Mike racked his brain, trying to remember what had happened to the Holy Grail. King Arthur had been looking for it, Avalon was involved…and that was about it. If they did have the Grail, maybe it would be like Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, and a single drink would heal Tink right up.

That was wishful thinking, though. Doing a quick sweep of the room, it was easy to see that these were people working very hard to keep a secret. He already knew it wasn’t one he would like. For now, though, he intended to play along with their shitty charade.

Vincentius chuckled and clapped a hand on the wood of the table. “Ah, the impetuousness of youth. I can hardly fault you any further for a mistake you made so long ago.”

“So, can you help me?” asked Mike, hoping to lead the conversation in the direction he wanted. “I don’t know if it’s a magical spring, artifact, or maybe one of your people here is a healer.” He nodded in Galahad’s direction. “But my wife needs help.”

“Your wife?” Vincentius raised an eyebrow. “Fascinating. Out of curiosity, I have it on good authority that your three-headed companion and you were…quite vocal earlier. Does your wife know about your dalliances?”

Sofia actually laughed. “Mike and his relationships are very unconventional,” she said. “If anything, his wife will get all hot and bothered hearing about it later.”

The man scowled. For just a moment, the magical wards slipped and Mike got a good look at his face. He had deep lines that ran across his cheeks, and skin that looked like a leather couch that had been left to crack in the sun. His pupils were like pinholes as they narrowed in Mike’s direction once Vincentius realized he was being properly seen. Mike’s gaze slid away.

“You indulge yourself carnally with other women despite taking vows of fidelity before God?” Vincentius stood, his fingers splayed on the table. The false Amymone clapped her hands in excitement while the other vassals leaned back in their chairs, as if fearing the man’s wrath. A powerful aura filled the room, causing the others to wince.

“Technically, no.” Mike stood and put his own hands on the table to push back with his magic. The glowing stones that lit the room flickered and changed colors as the magical pressure between them increased. “We were married by Goblin Law.”

Vincentius recoiled, putting a hand over his heart. “Goblin…Law?” The pressure suddenly disappeared and he laughed. “I almost made a mistake of my own just now. Your wife is a goblin?”

“Yes. And she isn’t my only wife, either. Is that a problem?”

“Are any of your wives human?” he asked.

“Uh…no. Not full humans, anyway. But they are people.”

Vincentius waved a hand dismissively and sat back down. “I care not, then. You must understand, Mister..?”

“Radley.”

“Mister Radley. I am very old fashioned, you see, but even I understand the importance of sowing wild oats. Any marriage between you and a different species is inconsequential and unrecognized by the church.”

“I don’t care what the church thinks,” said Mike, his inner Lily manifesting with his annoyance. “It’s not like Sky Daddy ever writes me letters to let me know that he cares. Why should I give a shit what he thinks of me and my relationships?”

“Bah, your belligerence is wasted on me.” Vincentius chuckled and his vassals relaxed. The false Amymone looked disappointed. “It is the nature of men to sin. True affronts to God are rare indeed, such as taking vows before him and then breaking them.”

“Wait, hold on. So if I was married to a woman, but it was just a legal thing without any vows in a church, you’d be fine with that?”

Vincentius shrugged. “It’s not like it would be a real marriage anyway. It is no different than a child playing with toys in their room.”

Mike wasn’t sure what to make of the guy, other than knowing that he didn’t like him. “So will you help me?” he asked. “Since I am just playing with toys, after all. Fixing one shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I have yet to decide. Besides, I do not make agreements when either party is hungry.” Vincentius clapped his hands and servants appeared. A pitcher of water was put in front of both Mike and Sofia and the table was decorated with different plates of food. Almost every dish was apple related. There was pie, cobbler, a salad, and a few others that Mike didn’t recognize.

Plates were set in front of everyone. Sofia and Mike served themselves while Nyx waited patiently to see if someone else would serve her. The fae princess had gone quiet, and Mike realized that she was absolutely allowing their hosts to stomp all over the rules of Hospitality. Between the obvious lies and the kind of table service that was beneath a Chili’s, Mike suspected that a great deal of bad luck was about to fall over Vincentius’ kingdom.

“I do apologize for the lack of variety,” said Vincentius. “Due to the makeup of the island itself, we are forced to eat what we can actually grow, which is primarily these apples. A single one can keep a man alive for a day, though you should not fear over indulging. They will not make you sick. We also have a wheat field and some root vegetables, but those are much harder to grow.”

“Is this safe to eat?” asked Mike.

Fake Amymone slammed her fist on the table. “Of course they are!” she declared angrily.

“Then why aren’t any of you eating it?” asked Sofia. “You all have plates. What’s wrong with this food?”

“We are in the midst of a spiritual fast,” said Vincentius. “I and my vassals will dine later. This food is perfectly safe for your consumption.”

“Truth,” muttered Nyx as she looked up at Mike, then grabbed a piece of pie and crammed it into her mouth. She chewed with her mouth open, which was a horrifying sight. It almost looked like her teeth were changing shape while eating.

Mike and Sofia dined quietly while Lord Vincentius and his vassals watched. It only took a few bites of food before Mike was full. Sofia ate a bit more, content to take a single bite of most of the dishes. Cerberus decided that the food was simply too good to pass up on and made themselves a massive plate of it. All three heads took turns eating as the hellhound slowly devoured the contents of the closest dish.

“Your consort has quite the appetite,” said Vincentius.

“We burned a lot of calories earlier.” Mike wasn’t sure if eating put food in Cerberus’ true stomach or if they were somehow burning it up with hellfire. It didn’t really matter. “However, I am now properly fed and wish to discuss what I came for. You’ve offered opinions on faith, my relationships, and continue to dodge the whole explanation of who you really are and what’s actually going on here. Every minute here is four in the real world. I have a family to return to and don’t feel like spending the next month or so dicking around with you and your vassals.”

“I see.” Vincentius steepled his hands and leaned back in his chair. “Let’s start with what you wish to know about me.”

“Explain the whole Caretaker business,” said Sofia. “Why not just stick with the title of Lord? That’s an awfully specific label.”

Vincentius studied them for a moment and then nodded. “It was a sacred task handed down to me,” he said. “To play in something called the Great Game.”

“Go on.” Mike leaned forward in interest. “Actually, hold on a second. What is this Great Game business?”

“The Great Game was created by the gods and a being known as the Architect. This individual tasked himself with creating players for the game in order to prevent the destruction of the world by those known as the Others, Outsiders, or whatever name you may know them by. They wish to consume everything, you see, and were drawn here by the powers of the divine.”

“So this Architect guy gave you the role himself?”

Vincentius nodded. “That is correct.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Mike caught the subtle shake of Nyx’s head. She played it off as searching for a napkin to wipe her mouth. If she was going to insist on being his personal lie detector, he was going to roll with it.

“Okay, so the Architect made you a player in this game. So where do your vassals come in?”

“We created this world as a refuge from the mortal realm, a place to hide. All creatures able to travel here are welcome to remain, as long as they avoid making trouble.” Vincentius motioned toward the false Amymone. “This dryad was given to me, along with her sister Naia. They help me care for the grounds.”

“Uh huh. Did these other guys come, too?”

“Lord Galahad was already here when I came,” said Vincentius. “A long-time guest of the former residents. The gargoyles came later at my behest. As for Gerard and his sister Charlotte, they were longtime associates of mine who I summoned here.”

“So, let me guess. You’re trying to collect a bunch of monsters, right?”

“I prefer the term mythical beings.” Vincentius grinned. For just a moment, the mask slipped once more and Mike was able to see his face again. The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But yes, this is our home. We care for the villagers below. The children are educated by Lady Charlotte. Lord Galahad helps manage the village as its long-time healer and leader. I act as their spiritual advisor, being a former man of the cloth.”

“How long ago was that?” asked Sulyvahn. “Ye seem like ye got an old look about ye.”

“Many, many centuries ago.”

“So you aren’t human.” This came from Sofia.

“I was born one, yes. But I am human no longer.” Vincentius sighed and sat back in his chair. “You see, becoming the Caretaker granted me powers and abilities beyond what a mortal should possess. I have changed.”

Mike squinted, forcing his eyes to remain on the man long enough to see his soul. Even in this state, he simply couldn’t concentrate long enough to make it happen. He did, however, spot the magic that kept him from doing it. Mana swirled around Vincentius, creating a slippery vortex.

The meal continued, but was mostly just Cerberus consuming unholy amounts of food while Sofia asked questions about the village and how things were run. With the attention on her, it gave him a chance to eat some more and concentrate on the others. Lady Charlotte kept quiet, staring down at her empty plate. Gerard kept looking up from his hands at Charlotte, but she was pointedly ignoring him. The woman was sad, of this there was no doubt. As for Gerard, his soul was a tangled mess of emotions.

Galahad was a strange one. He seemed to be interested in the conversation, but there was a dead look to his gaze, like his thoughts were elsewhere. Most of his contributions seemed to be single word sentences of agreement, as if he was pretending to follow along. Every now and then, he would notice Mike watching and then sit up straight, but it didn’t hide anything. Mike was actually looking at his soul and the poor withered thing it had become. It was a sickly color and looked frayed along the edges, like mold growing on bread. At its core was a thick, black tendriled mass that Mike interpreted as guilt. Those tendrils grabbed everything they could find and simply crushed it down.

The false Cecilia and Amymone, however, did not hold any guilt, sadness, or any other human emotion he could interpret. Instead, it was clear that they were both predators. The fake banshee was outgoing and friendly, but it was all a false front. If Mike could see this in the two of them, then what sort of secrets would he find in Vincentius’ soul?

Seriously, what kind of name was Vincentius? It sounded like it was ripped straight out of the movie Gladiator.

Cecilia pinched him under the table. Mike realized that everyone else was watching him.

“I’m sorry, I got lost in thought,” he admitted. “There’s a whole lot of information coming at me. It can be difficult to absorb it all.”

“I asked what you do for a living?” This came from the false Cecilia. “It’s clear you possess incredible magic, along with some interesting companions. You are no ordinary mortal.

“Oh. Right.” Mike looked up at Vincentius and smiled. Seeing an opportunity, he dramatically dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, then tossed it aside. It was time to get some proper answers, and that meant revealing who he actually was and calling Vincentius out on his lies. “Interestingly enough, we’re in the same profession.”

“And that would be?”

“I am the Car—” Ice cold pain wrenched through him, his danger sense blaring so loud through him that he actually stuttered, then coughed. Across from him, Sofia’s eye flashed, her own magic activating. She shook her head subtly, communicating that he should absolutely not reveal his title.

“The what?” asked false Cecilia. Vincentius leaned forward in his seat, his aura shifting to border on menace. The man absolutely suspected something.

Mike coughed twice, then stuck a finger in his mouth and picked at his teeth. “Had something caught in there that came loose at a bad time,” he said, then took a swallow of water to pretend to take care of the issue. “Anyway, I’m the…caretaker of a vast estate back on Earth. I kind of fell into the job. That’s what I meant by saying we have the same profession.” He pointed back and forth from Vincentius to himself. Admitting he was the real Caretaker would have gotten him hurt or killed. But being someone else’s lackey? That was fine, for whatever stupid reason.

He looked across the table toward Nyx, who nodded her approval. Nothing that he said just now was an outright lie. If they could read the truth like she did, they would have no reason to suspect anything untoward.

“Really? A caretaker? Interesting.” Vincentius chuckled. “I sort of fell into the role here myself. But tell me, Mr. Radley. If you’re just a groundskeeper for that estate, how have you amassed so much power for yourself?”

“Accidentally, for the most part.” The danger had passed, but the tension was still there. Doing a visual sweep, he saw that it wasn’t coming from Charlotte or Gerard. It was mostly the fakers and Vincentius. “An occupational hazard.”

“What can you tell me about this man you work for?” asked Vincentius.

“He’s a traveler,” said Nyx, pulling the attention away from Mike. “One personally known by royalty across the world. He’s also a trouble maker. There are many who would see him dead and have tried, but all have failed.”

“What is his name?” asked false Amymone.

Nyx briefly glanced at Mike. “He wouldn’t want us to tell you,” she said. “The man is a homebody who is tired of trouble arriving on his doorstep. Perhaps after we return to the mortal realm, I shall ask him personally if he wishes to open the lines of communication. In much the same way that your people do not share your secrets, he would want us to keep his own.”

“Mmm. I see.” Vincentius chuckled. “Well, then we may have a bit of an issue. You see, when it comes to secrets, this place was created to protect my own, a safe harbor against the dangers of the world. Nobody leaves my domain against my wishes.”

“Wait.” Mike started to stand, but remembered who he was talking to and sat back down. “Are you saying you won’t let us leave?”

“The last time we let somebody leave, they took something important. Oh, so very important.” The mask slipped again, revealing a brief moment of anger that burned like the sun. “Nobody is ever meant to visit here, Mister Radley. That you had the misfortune to stumble into this place, well…I’m afraid I can’t just let you leave.”

“So we’re prisoners?” asked Sofia.

“More like long-term guests. You wouldn’t be the first, but many have learned to appreciate what I offer.” Vincentius chuckled, and Mike saw Charlotte exchange an angry glance with Gerard. Galahad looked away from the table as if he wanted to leave. “I suppose if you really wish to leave, you may have to wait for your mysterious boss to come for you.”

“Oh, he will,” said Cecilia, speaking for the first time. She turned her head to look in Lord Vincentius’ direction. “For a friend or family member, he would walk through the Underworld itself.”

Vincentius stared at Cecilia for several seconds. When he spoke next, his voice was soft. “I notice your eyes are blank,” he said. “My lady, are you blind?”

Cecilia nodded. “I haven’t let it stop me,” she said.

“What manner of creature are you? I do not know that I’ve met your like before.” Vincentius suddenly seemed more aware than ever as he studied Cecilia intensely. Mike didn’t like it at all, but waited to see how she’d react before intervening.

“It is impolite to inquire,” she replied. “Unless you’d like to tell us what kind of creature you are.”

Galahad tensed up in his seat, then relaxed when Vincentius laughed.

“You lot will make an excellent addition to the population. It has been far too long since we’ve had new blood here.” He clapped his hands and the servants returned. “Please see our guests to their chambers. They will require time to adapt to their new situation, as we all have.”

“You can’t keep us here,” said Sofia.

“You’re welcome to try and leave,” said Vincentius. “If the forest doesn’t kill you, the things that live in the lake will. But you will not be able to leave the same way you came in. I won’t allow it. If you simply cannot take it any longer, there’s always the pit outside.” Vincentius rose. “I shall allow you free rein of the place, if that’s what you require to settle in.”

Mike wasn’t about to argue with the man. If he needed to, he would just get the rats to come bail them out. Instead, he stood and fixed Vincentius with an angry glare. “What about my wife?” he asked.

Galahad spoke. “If you can find a way to summon her here, perhaps we can help.”

“Bah. Do not summon a goblin. They’re disgusting little creatures. I will not have one on my island.”

“Excuse me?” Mike made a show of stepping forward. He couldn’t go too quietly or the man would suspect something. Both Cecilia and Suly grabbed him by the hand to hold him back.

“You still have your plaything. This…dog girl.” Vincentius sneered at Cerberus. “You can fuck her all you like.”

“Eat. My. Ass,” they replied, surrounded by empty plates.

“Charming,” he replied. “I understand that you’re upset. Don’t get me wrong, but this is for my own protection.”

“Protection from what?” asked Mike. “Or who?”

The lords and ladies looked to Vincentius to see if he would answer. The man’s facade slipped one more time and Mike found himself staring into a maelstrom of fear.

“Perhaps some other time I shall speak of it,” he said, then turned to walk away and simply disappeared into thin air.

“Darn,” said false Amymone with a pout. “I thought things were about to become exciting.”

Galahad shushed her, then turned to Mike. “It may be hard to accept,” he said. “But this is your new reality. Let me know how I may assist you in adapting.” He stood and left as well, followed next by Gerard and the fake Cecilia.

“And if you can’t accept it,” said false Amymone, “then you should come to me.” She stepped up to Mike and caressed his cheek, then dropped her hand to grab his dick. “I’ll help you get over whatever or whoever you want.”

Mike scowled at her, which elicited a laugh. This close, he was finally able to pierce the glamor over her face. Her lower jaw had a split in the middle, as if it unhinged and opened horizontally as well as vertically.

“See you around,” she said with a grin, then walked out of the room. Lady Charlotte remained behind long enough to stare awkwardly at them, then excused herself.

“That didn’t go well,” commented Sulyvahn. “What do we do now?”

Mike looked at the others and realized that Nyx had already disappeared. He just shook his head and sighed. “I guess we go to our rooms and try to figure something out.” Turning his attention to the closest servant, he got in the man’s face. “But no more separate room bullshit. Take us somewhere that we can all stay. A castle like this should have a suite big enough.”

The servant didn’t respond. Instead, they turned and gestured for Mike to walk toward the door. With any luck, none of them had even registered that Nyx was missing.

Go, my little chaos junkie, he thought to himself. Sow your seeds.

---

It was simple enough for Nyx to slip out of the castle. The thralls paid her no mind, and on the rare occasion that she passed in front of them, it took almost zero effort to make them forget.

The gargoyles watched from above, but did nothing as she crossed the bridge back into the village. Though her face was a neutral mask, inside she was seething.

This Vincentius creature had dared to invite her into his home, then tell her lies as she was fed apples that rightfully belonged to the fae. He had even stolen the Caretaker’s story, every lie dripping from his lips like poison. The only reason she hadn’t acted immediately for this violation of Hospitality was because of her oath to Mike. They had joint goals here, and until there was an immediate path to what they both wanted, punishment would have to wait.

It was dark in the village square, and not a single guard had been posted. Avalon was a land with no natural predators and needed no protection. Nyx cast an angry glance back at the castle. The Lord and his vassals may consider themselves predators, but they were no better than parasites at this point.

The best way to kill a parasite was to poison the host. Nyx found the home she wanted almost right away and knocked on the wooden door seven times. It opened to reveal a young man who had clearly just crawled out of bed.

“Oh, hello,” Finley said. “I’m sorry, I was asleep. Did you need something?”

Nyx grinned as she stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind her.