The Locals

The first suite Mike was shown was insufficient for his needs, and so was the next one. The servant led them all over the castle, showing them larger living spaces that should have been good enough, but Mike rejected them all. The servant never uttered a single complaint. To Vincentius or any of the thralls, he was little more than a grouchy human making demands and trying to get the best deal possible. By the time they were offered up a living space that took up the entirety of one of the remaining towers, he had seen enough to set his plan in motion.

“Will this be sufficient?” asked the thrall.

Mike gazed at the enormous lounge with an enchanted fire in the hearth, then made a show of walking inside to inspect the place. A stairwell around the interior led upstairs to several different rooms, each with windows that overlooked the island for now. At some point, it would rotate and he would be staring at the cliff, but that wouldn't really matter. This would allow him a view of the village as well as the exterior of the castle as the tower moved.

“I suppose,” muttered Mike as he came down the stairs. “So, what? Are we prisoners here?”

“We have been instructed to give you free rein of the castle and its grounds,” replied the servant. “However, you are not to force open any locked doors nor harm any of the residents in the village. When you are hungry, simply ring the bell cord by the door, and we will have food brought to you.”

“What about clothing?” asked Sofia. “And our other needs? We packed supplies for an excursion, not to be permanently relocated to a castle in another dimension.”

The servant walked to a desk near the hearth and opened it. He withdrew an inkwell and some paper. “You may make a list of the items you require,” he said. “As long as you remain in the Lord’s good graces, any reasonable requests will be provided.”

“Good,” said Mike, narrowing his eyes. “Now leave us.”

The servant nodded, then backed out the imposing doors onto the small bridge that connected the tower to the main body of the castle. The moment the door was shut both Sofia and Mike went to the table.

“There’s another quill in here,” she said, pulling it out of the desk. The cyclops handed it to Mike and took an extra piece of paper for herself. The two of them hastily put together a functional map of the castle, along with some observations added by Sulyvahn. In truth, Mike’s pickiness regarding rooms had been a way for him to figure out the layout of the castle and Sofia had picked up on the scheme right away.

Neither Cerberus or Cecilia could offer much to assist their endeavors and moved to inspect their temporary domicile instead. After roughly twenty minutes, some spilled ink, and three drafts, they had completed one map they all agreed on along with potential escape routes. Mike hadn’t liked the way the false Amymone had been watching them during their meeting. He was half expecting her to drop out of the ceiling and attack them at any moment.

The map completed, Mike had Cecilia and Cerberus show them around the rest of the tower. Their suite was the size of a large home with seven bedrooms, a couple of medieval bathrooms with tubs in them, and its own dining area. There were empty bookshelves everywhere, which Sofia declared odd. If the books had been pulled, it was likely for a very good reason.

The events of the last couple of days crashed into him, and he found himself dozing on the couch. Cecilia, Sulyvahn, and Cerberus all agreed to keep watch as he and Sofia adjourned to a bedroom with a bed large enough for both of them to sleep in. If Vincentius had some way to bypass the living area and attack them directly, at least one of them would be warned by their magic and be able to rouse the others.

It also didn’t hurt that this meant he got to curl up against the cyclops'massive hips. Grinning in spite of himself, he hugged her from behind and quickly fell back into slumber, and eventually, his Dreamscape.

That was where he found Kisa waiting. The cat girl was busy chasing a crab on the beach, the little crustacean blowing multicolored bubbles in her face. On the horizon, a distant storm had boiled over, obscuring what little light came from the setting sun. The cat girl looked up at him and smirked.

“Was wondering if I’d see you today,” she said, then dashed forward to catch the crab. It clamped down on her fingers with its pincers, but was unable to hurt her. “Looks like we finally synced up for the moment.”

“A bit. How is Tink? Anything new?” he asked.

Kisa sighed. “Tink is grumpier than ever, but fine. Beth has the house on lockdown. Best we can tell, our Seelie friends are playing ball because of your agreement with Princess Nyx. However, the Unseelie don’t give a fuck and have hinted that one of their people has gone missing on our property. We’ve gotten reports of mysterious figures around the perimeter, but it’s always out of the corner of someone’s eye. The centaurs have packed up early and returned to their village, but we had Yuki and Ratu screen them first for shapeshifters or any sort of fae possession.”

Mike narrowed his eyes and thunder rumbled in the distance. “Seriously? The fae courts are making a move?”

Kisa shook her head. “There’s no law against looking into our property, though some Unseelie asshole threatened Beth in the park. That’s why we’re on lockdown. She’s keeping a lot to herself. The fae can read minds, right?”

Mike thought briefly about that silver coin he had given Beth. “Yeah,” he said. “But they can’t do it if everyone stays inside.”

“I’m under the impression that they can’t do anything to us for now,” said Kisa. “So we’re in this weird stalemate where they’re clearly looking for a justification.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Every time I leave my house…”

The cat girl shrugged. “At least your house wasn’t stolen,” she said. “Or invaded by mercenaries. We’ve been through worse.”

“We shouldn’t have to deal with anything, though.” Thunder rumbled again as Mike crossed his arms. “Look, we’re currently guests in this stupid castle. Let me fill you in.” He gave Kisa a summary of what he had learned so far. Her ears perked up through the narration, especially when he mentioned how Vincentius was using the Caretaker narrative as his own.

“What do you suppose all of that is about?” she finally asked.

“I don’t know. But I would have no reason to question otherwise if I didn’t know that I was the real Caretaker,” he replied. “The guy is using the narrative to accomplish something, I just don’t know what.”

“Hmm.” Kisa looked down at her hands and realized she was still holding the crab. It had conjured a little flag of surrender, which it waved frantically. She laughed and tossed it out to sea, where it made a little hoot of victory before splashing into the water. “Oh, I meant to tell you. Ratu has been looking all over the house for more of those sculpture things.”

“And?” Mike had honestly forgotten all about it with everything else going on.

“She identified a couple more items that clearly contain some type of creature inside, both were in the Vault. They’re now being studied in the Labyrinth, but as far as she can tell, they’re currently innate.”

“Don’t you mean inert?”

Kisa laughed. “Maybe? They’re not doing anything right now, so whichever word works best, I guess.” She fell back against the sand, which rose up to form a lounge chair beneath her. “So what’s the plan?”

“Instead of splitting resources, have Reggie send a team here to open a portal,” he said. “That way, I can come home, have a talk with the Unseelie, and make them realize they need to be on their fucking way.”

“Are you sure?” asked Kisa. “Yuki has talked more than once about trying to handle it herself.”

“She doesn’t have the same relationship with their queen that I do,” he replied. Kisa smirked. Though he had never explained his agreement with Titania to anyone else out loud, it was very likely that his familiar had figured something out. “I also have more pull with them since I’m technically in charge.”

Kisa laughed. “Little do they know you’re pretty much just making it up as you go.”

“I mean…” Mike shrugged. “You aren’t super wrong. I’m just a guy who wants to live his life and spend time with his family. Speaking of which, how are the kids?”

Kisa looked thoughtful. “Grace and Death were up to something, but Beth put a stop to it. I haven’t seen Callisto much, so at least he’s staying out of trouble. His mom is staying on top of things.”

“Naturally.” Mike turned to the beach behind him and sent a pulse of magic outward. The sand rose up and transformed, becoming a replica of the room he was staying in. “This should be enough for the rats to start looking,” he said. “Think you can pass it on to Reggie?”

“I’ll do my best,” she replied. “Would help if Lily was around to directly convey the imagery, though.”

“I’m surprised she hasn’t come home, yet,” Mike said.

“Apparently she and Dana got caught up in their own drama,” Kisa replied. “Coming home for this would just cause more problems for us down the road.”

“For us?” he said with a frown.

Kisa nodded. “Yeah, Eulalie is keeping pretty quiet about it. She’s been super busy handling the issue with them.”

Mike started tapping a finger on his leg impatiently. He didn’t like the idea of Lily or Dana being in trouble when he couldn’t go help them. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time they’d handled a bad situation without his involvement. “Keep me posted on that,” he muttered. The breeze picked up, ruffling his hair as the first drops of rain caressed his face.

The cat girl frowned at the sky. “Are you handling everything okay?” she asked. “The weather implies things aren’t good.”

“Not really.” He looked up into the storm. “I haven’t figured out yet how angry I need to be over what’s going on here.”

“Try not to kill anyone,” she said with a wink, then made a face. “Ah, fuck. Tink is ringing the Help Me bell.”

“Send my love,” he said, and Kisa nodded before fading from sight. He let out a sigh and sat in the sand. The storm raged around his island, not quite bringing its wrath onto land. He stewed in his thoughts for a bit, then let his mind wander as time fractured and sped up for him. Moments later, he found himself lying in bed with Sofia facing him, the cyclops dozing peacefully.

He studied her face in silence, noting how relaxed she actually looked. When was the last time he hadn’t seen her brow furrowed in concentration or annoyance? His touch against her face was gentle as he traced the curve of her cheek, pausing to tuck a stray hair away. The anger he was holding fled as he embraced the moment, fully appreciating the beautiful creature who slumbered across from him.

The cyclops winced in her sleep, and he was startled by a sudden image of a mountain of books and the sound of creaking rope. Was he seeing Sofia’s dream? The intrusion had been accidental, and he immediately backed his mind out of it. Sofia winced again and he slid his hand down her arm until his fingers found hers.

Her eye snapped open and focused on his face.

“You were having a bad dream,” he said.

“Wasn’t a dream,” she replied, then seemed to realize they were holding hands. Her cheeks darkened momentarily. “Bad memory, actually.”

“Enough of those to go around,” he replied.

“Yeah.” As if suddenly shy, Sofia let go of his hand and sat up. “How long were we out?”

“Between six and ten hours,” replied Nyx from a nearby chair. Both of them sat up to see that the fae princess was currently holding a loaf of bread, but not eating it. “I can’t be sure exactly when you dozed off.”

“Who let you in?” Mike demanded.

“Was I not allowed?” she replied. “Am I not an ally?”

“Humans don’t typically like being watched over in their sleep,” said Sofia. “Neither do I, for that matter. You should remember this.”

“You are incorrect,” said Nyx. “You see, I already know about the sleeping habits and customs of others. You should ask me to abide by the rules, or even respect them. I am perfectly capable of remembering things you don’t want me to do as I do them.”

“How do you and your kind get anything done?” asked Mike. “Doesn’t every conversation essentially dissolve into some form of verbal combat?”

Nyx’s eyes flashed in delight. “You now understand my kind even better,” she declared and stood.

“Is there a reason you were waiting for us to wake up?” asked Mike. “Did something happen?”

“Plenty happened,” she replied. “Things are always happening to everyone. I came to speak with you about some things I have learned in the spirit of cooperation.”

“Have you figured out what’s going on with Vincentius?” he asked.

Nyx nodded. “I learned much about the man and his vassals already,” she replied. “But I shall only speak to those that affect our current agreement.”

“What?” Mike scowled. “Why would you keep information to yourself?”

“We agreed to work together to figure out what is going on and to find a cure for your wife,” Nyx replied. “Many of the facts I already know don’t seem to progress either of these agreements.”

“I don’t follow.”

“If I had learned that Vincentius’ favorite color was red, does that mean anything?” Nyx grinned. “Would it explain how Avalon has been taken? Will it restore Tink’s youth?”

“What if it did?” asked Sofia. “Suppose that knowledge led to such answers?”

“Until I know that it does, I don’t have to share it,” Nyx replied.

Mike groaned. “Verbal combat,” he muttered. “You’re keeping stuff to yourself because it amuses you and doesn’t violate our agreement.”

She laughed. “There’s a natural progression to these things. I will tell you everything I know for a price.”

“One I can’t afford,” said Mike. “But the fact that you’re here means you’ve learned something that either amuses you or definitely progresses our goals.”

“I have. It’s up to you to figure out which.” Nyx chuckled and moved to the window. “We look out over the cliffs right now,” she said. “Cliffs that shouldn’t exist.”

“Is that some sort of clue?” asked Mike.

Nyx raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”

Sofia groaned and stood. “I have to pee,” she declared, then headed toward the bathroom. Nyx watched the cyclops leave, then looked at Mike with a grin.

“I could smell your dreams,” she said. “There was salt in the air and the smell of a coming storm.”

“It’s rude to intrude,” he said.

“And yet you did the same with the Head Librarian,” she countered.

“That was an accident.”

“Tell me. What sort of woman would you not lie with?” Nyx moved toward the bed with a salacious grin. “If I were to express interest, would you turn me away?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“Is it my body?” she asked, cocking out her hip and twisting to face him. “Do you require women with more curves? Or perhaps—”

“It’s your attitude,” he replied. “You look down on me and the others. By elevating yourself with your own opinion, you have lowered your value in my eyes.”

Nyx’s eyes blazed with anger, but only for a moment. “My opinion holds actual value,” she declared. “It is not some nebulous construct.”

“Your opinion is like Bitcoin to a dog,” Mike said in anger. “It only has value to those who want it. What does a dog want? To be held and spoken kindly to. Long walks and playing fetch.”

“You speak kindly of dogs,” Nyx replied. “But the one you play with likes to be fucked the most, am I right?”

Mike took a breath to steady himself. “When I die, people will miss me. I will be spoken well of by others. Can you say the same for yourself?”

“I will be alive long after those who speak well of you have become dust,” she said. “Nobody will speak well or ill of you, for you will be forgotten while I persist.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” said Mike.

Nyx studied him for several long, speechless seconds. “There is no nymph,” she finally said. “The fountain that provides the drinking water for the village is a modified spring that once existed in Avalon. The few who claimed they had seen such an entity were lying.”

“I—what?” The abrupt change of topic threw Mike for a loop. “There’s no nymph?”

“Yet another crack in the false Caretaker’s facade,” said Nyx. She moved closer to him and licked her lips. The smell of spring filled the air. “I guess you could say—”

The door opened and Sofia walked back in. She gave the two of them a disgruntled look, then knelt by the bed and reached under it to pull out a chamber pot.

“I forgot there isn’t a normal toilet here,” she declared, then took the chamber pot out of the room with her.

“She could have taken that from any other room,” muttered Nyx as she stood.

“And it wouldn’t have changed a thing,” said Mike. “Besides, wouldn’t your queen be extremely angry if she knew what you were trying to do? She was rather upset over my relationship with Cecilia.”

Nyx snorted. “That’s assuming she remains the queen.”

Mike narrowed his eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’ll trade you,” she said. “All it will cost is a single kiss, the feel of your lips upon mine.”

“No,” he replied.

It was impossible to tell whether his answer pleased Nyx or not. The fae princess stepped back and stared out the window. “I know not where this castle came from,” she said. “There used to be another in its place.”

“A smaller one, right?”

She nodded. “The island was meant to be a sanctuary, Mike Radley. For a time, it was a place where my people could live in harmony beside your own, a place of magic. Its ability to interact with your world was hampered when Merlin dropped his wretched veil upon the world.”

“Can you tell me more about that?” he asked.

“It will cost you,” she said with a grin.

“Never mind,” he muttered. “Your prices are too high.”

“Are you sure about that?” she whispered, then moved toward him. “Maybe the price I desire is simply to satisfy my own curiosity? What does the banshee see in you, hmm?” The princess now stood right in front of him, her magic washing over him like a wave.

Mike let out a dry laugh as his own magic protected him. “Maybe it’s the fact that I see her for who she is,” he replied. “It makes me wonder what kind of person you truly are to be oblivious to that.”

Nyx frowned and took a step back. She contemplated him for a moment, then let out a grunt and left the room. He sighed in relief and shook his head. When Sofia came back in, she was holding the chamber pot. The two of them looked at each other, and Mike laughed.

“If you’re done with the bathroom,” he said with a grin and held out his hand. “I’m guessing there isn’t a spare under the bed.”

“There certainly isn’t,” she replied, then handed it over. “You can always grab one from another room if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Where do I dump it when I’m done?” he asked.

“Window opens,” she replied as she turned to leave. “It all goes down the magical bottomless pit until someone tells me otherwise.”

Mike imagined some demon or evil entity at the bottom of the pit and laughed. If something lived down there, it was about to be pissed.

Once his business was concluded, he left the room and found the others sitting on the couches in the living space. They all looked up at him as he descended the stairs.

Predictably, Nyx was absent. Good riddance.

“I’ve got Operation Rathole started,” he announced. “But it’s time for us to do some digging of our own. This place has some secrets that I would really like to ferret out. What are your thoughts?”

“I want to speak to Gerard,” said Sofia. “He’s a direct link to that journal and probably has answers.”

“That’s a great idea,” said Mike. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“For now, no.” Sofia crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat, which was comically smaller than she was. “We’re both librarians, so maybe I can lean on that to gain a rapport.”

“In that case, I might just go on a treasure hunt of my own.” Mike looked at Cerberus. “Do you want to be my bodyguard?”

All three heads nodded, the hellhound’s tail wagging. He looked at Sulyvahn and Cecilia, who were both just hanging around.

“I’ll stay behind this time,” said Cecilia. “I don’t know what I can do to help.”

Mike frowned with uncertainty. He didn’t want to discourage the banshee by agreeing, but he would definitely move faster if it was just him and Cerberus.

Sulyvahn saved him. “I’ll keep an eye on my sister, friend.” The dullahan placed a hand on Cecilia’s shoulder. “Give us a bit o’ time to be catchin’ up and all that.”

Taking a deep breath, Mike gave Suly a small salute. “Sounds like we all have a plan. I guess we’re off, so—” His stomach growled and he winced. He hadn’t even noticed how hungry he was. “Looks like I need to look for some breakfast.”

“You can ask the servants,” said Sofia.

“I could, but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to poke my nose where it doesn’t belong.” Mike grinned and held out an arm for Cerberus. “Shall we?”

“Let’s. Go. Master.” The hellhound took him by the elbow and together they shoved open the door of the tower and stepped onto the bridge. Mike looked up at the main building of the castle and hated how it felt like it was looking back.

---

Cecilia stared through the window, her fingers pressed against the glass as she watched the tiny flickering lights of souls down below. Her hand was mainly there to keep from bumping her face against the glass, which had already happened twice.

Though this place belonged to the fae, it had been twisted. In the mortal realm, she was essentially a ghost unless she concentrated hard on manifesting physically. In the fae realm, she could choose between either. Here, though, she was solid, and no amount of concentration had enabled her to resume her spiritual form.

This would bother her far less if not for the fact that she couldn't see. The vague outline of the building hovered along the edge of her consciousness, and she had already stubbed her toes numerous times, yet remained quiet. Mike was already dealing with far too much, and she didn't want him worrying about her.

"Ye look pensive," said her brother.

Cecilia smiled, and turned to face him. Unlike the flickering lights below, she could see him perfectly fine. "Everyone else is pursuing a task," she said. "I came along thinking I could help, yet..."

Sulyvahn nodded. "Aye. I be stuck as well. I didn'\a want to come, but ye know why I'm here."

She nodded. Sulyvahn was bound to the Queen's will, which was being abused by the Court. If not for their sudden suspicion of Mike, he wouldn't be worried about the safety of his home or family. She felt angry at the Court in a way she had never experienced before. It was like a tiny ball of fire in her stomach. "Do you suppose there's any help we can give?"

Sulyvahn looked out the window. "Mayhaps. While yer love be searchin' the castle, we could speak with the people below. I be a bit curious what they're like."

Having nothing better to do, she held out her hand. Sulyvahn, sensing her clouded vision, took it and led her out the door. The two of them maneuvered through the castle, occasionally stopping for directions from a servant. It wasn't like Cecilia could look at the map that Mike had, and Sulyvahn seemed content to wander. What was time to a pair of creatures that had never really experienced it?

When they left the castle, there was nobody to stop them. The two paused only briefly along the bridge to gaze down into its depths. Cecilia wondered if she would see anything supernatural lurking below, but there were no signs of life.

"It's got an ominous pull, yeah?" said Sulyvahn. "Almost like it's lookin' back and wants me to jump."

Cecilia frowned. Her brother wasn't wrong. The longer she gazed into the darkness, the more it felt like she was falling toward it. She clutched the railing of the bridge, the cold stone digging into her flesh as she fought the call of the void.

"Let's move on," said Sulyvahn.

"Agreed," Cecilia whispered, and allowed the dullahan to lead her away.

The village was teeming with life, it seemed to be their version of mid-day. They went back to the fountain first and just stood to the side and watched people pass them by. More than a few were curious, but must have received orders to leave them alone, because nobody stopped to question them.

"Hmm." Sulyvahn scratched at his chin. "There's somethin' here that tickles my brain, yet I can't figure out what. I'm sure it be starin' me right in the face."

Cecilia spotted it right away and smirked. "Do ye be needin' a hint?" she asked, slipping into her old dialect. Living with the others for so long had essentially erased it, but now that it was just the two of them? Why the heck not?

"Um..." Sulyvahn looked at the people around the fountain and tugged at his hair. "Maybe a hint?"

"Yer lookin' at too much," she replied. "Ain't seein' the forest fer the trees."

"Bah. Ye can't even see trees." He gave her a playful push. "I ever tell ye that yer more fun with a bit o' human in ye?"

"No, you haven't." She smiled sadly. "We don't talk enough, really."

He shrugged. "Didn't talk fer a bunch o' decades, not used ta seein' each other all the time now. We both be findin' our own ways to spend time."

"Like with a certain lawyer?" asked Cecilia.

The dullahan nodded. "Can I ask a question and get an honest answer?"

Cecilia frowned. What an odd request. "Of course," she replied.

Sulyvahn scratched his head. "What does falling in love feel like?"

Cecilia blinked in surprise, and let out a small laugh that had the mortals looking up at her in wonder. "What an odd thing to ask," she said.

"Ye promised to be honest," Sulyvahn grumbled. "And I don't want a typical fae answer, either. Somethin' straightforward, if you please."

"Ye've been spendin' too much time with Nyx," said Cecilia. "But I'll answer ye true, as best I can."

"As best you can?" asked Sulyvahn. "I know ye be lovin' that fellow."

"But love isn't something that can be put into words so easily," she replied. "When we got pulled into that book world, I was able to see colors for the first time. How do you describe the color red to someone who has never seen it? It is the color of warmth, and passion, but to break it down to something more elemental? It's impossible."

"I thought we were talkin' about love," Sulyvahn replied.

"And we are," she said. "Love is something that you don't truly get until you feel it for yourself, and it's different for everyone. When it first started for me, it was when I realized he was going to treat me differently than the others. He didn't mind that I had a specific...job." Cecilia lowered her voice. "And the longer we were together, I be havin' thoughts about his body, thoughts I shouldna been havin'."

"I get that," Sulyvahn replied. "Beth be havin' me in fits sometimes. E'en now I be havin' fantasies about..." His lips quirked up into a stupid grin. "But what else is there?"

Cecilia took her brother's hand. "Ye be feelin' it in yer heart, first. It's not just about touch, but bein' together. Ye miss her during quiet moments when yer apart. When yer afraid fer each other, it's like you can't quite...catch yer breath."

"Ye don't breathe," said Sulyvahn.

"And yet, he makes me breathless," she replied with a wistful smile. "I don' quite feel complete when he's gone."

"Is that because of yer...soul?" he asked.

She nodded. "Perhaps."

Sulyvahn sighed. "I don't be thinkin' about Beth the way ye think about Mike," he said. "We be havin' fun, and I feel like we're close, but that other stuff ye talk about...I don't feel breathless."

She squeezed his hand. "It's different fer everyone fer a reason," she said. "As long as ye respect each other, there's no right way to be in love."

"Hmm." Sulyvahn scratched at the seam of his neck. "I guess ye've got a point."

"Ye also haven't been swappin'...things," she added. "It's different fer us, and that's okay, too. Ye can't compare yer relationship to the ones that others have."

The dullahan said nothing, his eyes scanning the town square. She leaned against him and he turned to look at her. They weren't technically siblings. In fact, they were opposites, created at the same time. There had never been any affection between them in the past, yet something new had bloomed within Cecilia, a yearning to be part of a proper family.

She smiled when Sulyvahn leaned into her embrace. "I finally spotted it," he said.

"Spotted what?" she asked.

"What's buggin' me." He gestured toward the villagers. "Their souls be weaker than normal," he said.

"And?" she asked. "What else?"

"They be young." He looked at Cecilia. "Not a lick of them be of old age."

"I can see their spirits much farther than you can," she said. "And I have yet to spot a soul older than..." In fact, she wasn't entirely certain what number to use. Human ages could be tricky. "There's nobody elderly," she finally said. "And there be plenty of food and water. Unless there be a sickness..."

"Then there be a culling." Sulyvahn shook his head. "Somethin' be killin' off the old."

Cecilia took a step toward the fountain, making sure to keep a steady gaze on the flickering souls around it. She could almost see the outline of the flowing water as it emerged from somewhere deep beneath the ground. A shining light deep below the fountain was the magic that summoned the water, all bottled up to funnel it into this one place. Separate threads of water ran away from the fountain itself, and she wondered if these went to the fields where things grew.

"Excuse us," said Sulyvahn. "Be there any o' ye willin' to show us around?"

"I'll do it!" The feminine voice belonged to a soul that flickered with blue sparks. "I offered first, let me!"

"What be yer name, lass?" asked Sulyvahn.

"Elspeth, milord." The soul dipped in what Cecilia assumed was a curtsy, then turned to Cecilia. "Is it true that you can see the future?"

Cecilia smiled and gestured at her eyes. "I can't see much of anything," she replied. "Someone has been telling you tall tales."

"Aw," moaned someone else nearby. Elspeth didn't seem discouraged as she took Cecilia by the hand.

"If you don't mind me saying, you're very pretty, milady." Elspeth moved by Cecilia's side. "What are your names?"

"That be my brother, Sulyvahn," said Cecilia. "And I be..." She wasn't certain how to reply.

"Lady Radley," finished Sulyvahn. "Of the House of Radley."

Cecilia's cheeks burned, and she held her free hand up in embarrassment. "Aye," she whispered. "That be my name."

"Flustered is a good look on ye, sister." Sulyvahn chuckled warmly. "Elspeth, would ye be willin' to give us a small tour? Finley showed us a bunch, but we wasn't expectin' a whole town to be here."

"At once, um...Lord Sulyvahn?"

"I be nobody's lord," he replied. "Ye can call me Suly."

Elspeth gave them a similar tour to the one that Finley had. Sulyvahn asked plenty of questions that were largely innocuous while Cecilia studied the souls of the villagers. Elspeth’s was an open book, her soul unusually untainted. She was a young woman who hadn't often experienced sadness or betrayal and she shined brighter for it.

"So this be the school," said Sulyvahn, snapping Cecilia out of her thoughts. Inside, she could see a collection of souls, all milling about in excitement.

"Yes!" Elspeth replied. "This is where Lady Charlotte teaches us about everything we need to know, like how to run the farms, and how to mill the grain. When we graduate, we get assigned to our apprenticeships where the master craftsmen teach us new things."

"And what be your job?" he asked.

"Midwife," Elspeth replied. "And between babies, I help run errands for the folks in the fields."

"Who takes care of yer elders?" asked Sulyvahn.

"The elders?" Elspeth sounded puzzled. "What are those?"

"Where we're from, people of an advanced age may be referred to as elderly," replied Cecilia.

"How old is that?" asked Elspeth.

Cecilia shrugged. "It depends on the person. Maybe they're older than seventy."

"Seventy?!?" Elspeth took a step away from them. "Wow, people can live that long?"

"Er...things are different where we come from," said Sulyvahn. "Do yer people not be livin' that long?"

Elspeth shook her head. "The sickness usually takes them after forty. It's when yer joints start to go. That's when the Caretaker summons us to his home and grants us our eternal rest."

"Eternal rest?" Cecilia whispered. "As in...death?"

Elspeth laughed. "It's a ritual," she said. "We learn all about it when we're young. He does the ritual and we're reborn as someone else. It's part of the cycle here."

"I would love to hear more about--"

"Elspeth." The voice was cold, but not cruel. Cecilia jerked her head up to see the twisted soul of Lady Charlotte, standing just outside the school. "What are you doing?"

"Showing the outsiders around, Lady Charlotte." Elspeth wilted under Charlotte's gaze. "Is that...okay?"

Lady Charlotte studied them silently. Cecilia shuffled her feet, feeling the immense pressure of the woman's glare. Perhaps a minute passed before Charlotte’s soul took on a softer glow.

“Of course it is, child.” Charlotte smiled. “You’ve showed them around the village already?”

“I have, milady.”

“Would you be willing to watch the children? It’s playtime and I would love the opportunity to learn more about our guests. When the Caretaker met them, I didn’t really get a chance to get to know them better.”

“Of course, milady.” Elspeth curtsied and moved inside the school building “Who wants to play hide and seek?” she called.

The kids, who had absolutely been watching the scene through the windows, cheered and shifted about within. Cecilia smiled as the children scattered and moved about the building. She had never really gotten the chance to watch children play before. Doing so with Grace and Callisto had been quite the treat, and hide and seek was a game she could play with them.

Naturally, both of them were gifted at it. Callisto could see her even when she was mostly invisible, and Grace was, well, Grace. Nobody was entirely sure what all she could even see.

“May we?” asked Charlotte, gesturing away from the building.

“I suppose,” replied Sulyvahn. “Unless yer leadin’ us to our doom.”

“Not today,” Charlotte replied as she started walking. Sulyvahn and Cecilia followed behind her as they moved away from the schoolhouse and toward the edge of the village where nobody else was working. Sulyvahn tried to strike up a conversation twice, but Charlotte ignored him.

They followed a road that circled the edge of the valley, then paused by some large rocks, allowing them to sit and look down on the village. The closest person was easily half a mile away, part of a group that had been in the forest picking apples. When Charlotte finally broke the silence, it was with a question.

“What are you?” she asked, turning to face the siblings.

“We’re outsiders, I guess,” Sulyvahn replied.

Charlotte shook her head. She seemed tired. “Don’t speak to me in riddles,” she said. “I mean what are you, actually? Neither of you are human, and I don’t think Vincentius is entirely sure, either.”

“Um…” Sulyvahn looked at Cecilia, then back at Charlotte. “I don’ suppose ye’d believe that we’re of the fae?”

The Lady scoffed. “There are no fae here, not anymore. They had been chased out long before I arrived.”

“Well, then, we’re back?” Sulyvahn grabbed the top of his head and pulled it to one side, popping the seam on his neck. To Charlotte’s credit, her only reaction was to raise her hands to stifle her own gasp of surprise. “I be known as a dullahan, a seeker of lost souls.”

“I see.” Charlotte moved to Sulyvahn and ran her fingers along the seam of his neck. “Does it come off all the way?”

The dullahan responded by pulling his head off and cradling it in his arms. “Aye,” he replied. “My body be fully functional without it.”

“Are you one organism or two?” she asked, peering into his neck hole.

“That be a good question,” Sulyvahn responded. “It’s more like I’m both. When the head is on, we be one. But now, we’re two beings of a like mind, I suppose.”

“This doesn’t seem to bother you,” Cecilia noted. Even people well acquainted with cryptids would be unnerved by seeing someone remove their own head.

“I’ve seen worse things,” Charlotte whispered in response. “Things that you, too, will see soon.” She lifted her gaze toward the distant castle. “For you, this place may seem like a paradise. For me? It is little more than—”

“A prison,” Cecilia finished. “We are not fooled by this facade, Lady Charlotte.”

“If it were in my power, I would let everybody leave,” she continued. “And beg them to destroy the mirror that contains us so that no others could find this place.”

“What know you of the mirror, lass?”

Charlotte frowned. “I’ve said too much already,” she muttered. “If you care for your friends, they will find a much better fate at the bottom of the pit around the castle.”

“What lies there?” asked Cecilia.

“Redemption? Damnation? Nobody knows.” Charlotte’s twisted soul dimmed. “But it’s better than the hellish purgatory to which I’ve been condemned. Your friend may indeed find eternal life here, but he’ll soon learn that everything comes at a cost.”

“If you could leave this place, would you?” asked Cecilia.

Charlotte made a wheezing sound, as if struck. “I don’t know,” she finally replied. “I long for freedom, but do not deserve it.” Uncertainty flickered across her soul, followed by sadness. Cecilia felt like she was looking at a dim candle flame that threatened to go out.

Lady Charlotte sat there in silence for several minutes. Eventually, she stood and led them back to the school where the children were still playing with Elspeth. The kids, seeing the newcomers return, gave up their game and came running outside. Lady Charlotte cautioned them to be polite, but it was like all the energy had gone out of the woman, and she sat on a nearby log to watch them.

Sulyvahn greeted the kids with enthusiasm as they barraged him with questions. Cecilia sat quietly nearby and smiled as Suly shared stories from the Old World along with the New. Tales of dragons were met with far less enthusiasm than metal carriages that drove without horses and screens with moving images on them. These children had grown up in a world of magic instead of science, and viewed the latter with far more fascination.

Honestly, the magic of their world wasn’t that great to begin with, either. Avalon had been weakened, no longer the paradise it once was. This whole community was trapped within an insidious barrier of thorns, yet they survived. The people here were weak physically, but maintained high spirits.

A pair of children came and sat with Cecilia, asking her questions about why her hair floated behind her, why did it have a red streak, and even her blank eyes. Lady Charlotte tried to hush them, but the banshee encouraged their questions. Cecilia wasn’t nearly as dynamic as her brother, but did enjoy the attention. Eventually, a little girl tugged on the hem of Cecilia’s dress.

“Do you know any stories?” she asked. At this time, Sulyvahn was no longer sharing tales of the modern world and was re-enacting some battle with a stick for a blade. Cecilia wasn’t certain which story this was, even when he called himself Isildur. Several kids were watching him with rapt attention now as he started speaking about an enchanted ring.

“Do you not like my brother’s tale?” Cecilia asked out of curiosity.

The girl shook her head. “It’s kind of scary, actually.”

A little boy standing nearby bobbed his head in agreement. “We’re not supposed to have swords,” he added. “The gargoyles take them away if they find them.”

“Hmm.” Cecilia cocked her head to one side and pondered. “I’m not really a storyteller,” she said. “I can’t see, which means I don’t get a chance to read books or watch…um…the moving screens that my brother can.”

“Then what can you do?” asked the little girl. Charlotte tried to hush the child for being rude, but Cecilia’s laughter deflated the situation.

“I sing,” she said. “That’s my job.”

“Will you sing for us?” asked the girl again. “If it’s not too scary.”

Cecilia thought about it for a moment. She had been tempted to sing just the start of her dirge, but that might actually frighten the children. What songs did she even know in English?

“You don’t have to sing anything,” said Lady Charlotte. Cecilia held up a hand and smiled.

“I think I may know just the one,” she said. Cecilia opened her mouth and sang a quick musical scale. She didn’t technically need to warm up, but it did bolster her confidence. When was the last time she had really sung for anyone other than Mike? Was it really when Cyrus had passed?

The pale moon was rising above the green mountain,

The sun was declining beneath the blue sea;

When I strayed with my love to the pure crystal fountain,

That stands in the beautiful Vale of Tralee.

She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer,

Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me;

Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning,

That made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee.

Sulyvahn stopped wielding his stick as the kids nearby turned to face Cecilia. The little girl sitting by the banshee’s feet lit up with excitement as Cecilia’s words filled the clearing. The trees around them rustled as if blown by a breeze, dropping a few leaves in the process.

Smiling to herself, Cecilia continued. She moved to stand in the middle of the children so that all could hear her equally.

The cool shades of evening their mantle were spreading,

And Mary all smiling was listening to me;

The moon through the valley her pale rays was shedding,

When I won the heart of the Rose of Tralee.

Though lovely and fair as the Rose of the summer,

Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me;

Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning,

That made me love Mary the Rose of Tralee.

The world had gone still, as if Avalon itself were listening. The souls surrounding her flickered brightly like flames being fed. Cecilia swayed to the tune and rotated in order to look at each child’s spirit. When she turned to face Lady Charlotte, she saw that the troubled soul was no longer twisted into an anguished knot. The woman was caught up in the moment, temporarily at peace.

Smiling, Cecilia extended her hands and started the final verse.

In the far fields of India, 'mid war's dreadful thunders,

Her voice was a solace and comfort to me,

But the chill hand of death has now rent us asunder,

I'm lonely tonight for the Rose of Tralee.

She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer,

Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me;

Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning,

That made me love Mary, The Rose of Tralee

Though Cecilia couldn’t actually see their faces, she could tell the children were crying. It was a song about both love and loss, and the ending had always been emotional for her. As she finished the final words, she smiled down at everyone and hugged herself tight.

The children were silent for several seconds. Finally, the little girl who had asked her to sing spoke up.

“She’s flying,” the girl whispered.

Cecilia looked down and realized that she was indeed hovering about six feet up. She allowed gravity to reassert its hold on her and floated back down to the ground where Sulyvahn took her hand.

“That was a mighty fine song,” he said, pausing briefly to kiss the top of her hand. “Ye did it justice. Even the Lady be weeping.”

The banshee smiled. “Perhaps…we should return to the castle,” she said.

“Wait. I require another word with you.” Lady Charlotte stood from her log and took a moment to shoo away the children who grunted and groaned as they were dismissed. Even Elspeth didn’t want to leave, but Lady Charlotte managed to chase them all off just the same.

Once the kids were gone, Lady Charlotte turned to face them. “It occurs to me now that I do not know your names.”

“That’s ‘cause nobody asked it of us,” replied Sulyvahn. “Yer caretaker lord only had eyes fer Mike and we let ‘im do all the talking.”

Lady Charlotte nodded. “There’s a reason for that, one we can maybe discuss later. But a thought just occurred to me.” The woman stepped close enough that Cecilia could smell the death that surrounded her, hidden behind an apple blossom perfume. Charlotte whispered, her voice barely audible. “What is your name?”

Cecilia looked at Sulyvahn. The dullahan shrugged, uncertain what the best answer would be. When the banshee looked back at Charlotte, she saw a mixture of hope and fear swirling through the woman like a storm.

“Young Elspeth knows me as Lady Radley,” she replied as quietly as possible. “But I’m known amongst family as…Cecilia.”

“Truly? Then you must be the real one!” Charlotte gasped and covered her mouth. “Then that means…” She looked in the general direction of the castle.

“Is there a problem?” challenged Sulyvahn. He took a step toward Charlotte, his fingers twitching. The woman put up a single hand to stay his approach.

“Do not share this information with anyone, Lady Radley, nor should you speak it aloud.” Charlotte’s voice was suddenly full of steel. “Tell your Lord Radley to do nothing until I speak with him later.”

“Why should we?” asked Suly.

Charlotte shook her head. “I dare not say anymore. The trees may have ears,” she replied, then looked at Cecilia. “You will just have to trust me.”

“Do we?” Sulyvahn asked Cecilia. “Trust her, I mean?”

Cecilia studied the woman’s soul for several seconds and nodded. “Aye,” she replied. “For now, I think we must.”

---

As Sofia walked the halls of the false Caretaker's castle, she couldn't help but feel as if someone was stalking her. At first, she wondered if she was being followed, but the feeling persisted despite entering rooms that were clearly empty.

The thread-bare runners throughout the castle had worn so thin in places that she could see the stone beneath them. There was more of Lady Charlotte's artwork all over the castle, which Sofia actually stopped to examine. She wasn't interested in the art itself, but whether or not someone was watching her from behind it.

The only other culprits were the suits of armor scattered throughout the castle. She examined these, too, even pausing to dismantle one and look inside. They were hollow, and she couldn't find any signs of enchantment on them.

This led her to one of two conclusions. Either Vincentius was omnipresent in his own home and watching them every moment, or this was just a really freaky place and she was psyching herself out. Either way, she kept a hand close to her dagger, ready to unfold her sword at a moment's notice if necessary.

She got intentionally lost, hoping to use it as an excuse should someone ask her about it. This had led her to two separate kitchen areas, both of which were abandoned. There was also an alternate dining room which was far bigger than the one from before. The table had a thin layer of dust on it, indicating that it hadn't been touched in years.

Speaking of dust, it also occurred to her that large portions of the castle were caked in it. This place was only cared for on occasion, or at least off the beaten path. It also meant that she occasionally encountered footprints, but none of them led anywhere interesting.

She was in the middle of examining her second tower when she finally stumbled upon the library. The circular-shaped lobby was packed with shelves that overflowed with tomes. Ladders led to four additional levels along the interior of the tower, and those walls were packed with books as well. Anyone could look down at the main area from up above if they wished, but there was no railing, so the risk of falling was very real.

"Hello?" Sofia knocked on the already open door. The last thing she wanted was to surprise somebody. When there was no reply, she let herself in and moved to the closest stack of books. Based on titles, none of them were written in English, and she picked up a couple and thumbed through them. Something felt odd about the paper inside. Most of the pages were far stiffer than normal. Frowning, she replaced the book where she had gotten it and continued exploring the tower.

An unmarked door in the back opened to a space with a pair of desks. A book was propped open on one of them, held in place with some clamps. A separate book was on the other desk, its pages wet with fresh ink. A quick examination revealed that somebody was scribing information from the original book into the newer one. When Sofia touched the original, a piece of paper immediately crumbled beneath her fingers.

"Hmm." She wanted to undo the clamps and see the title of the book, but realized that it would likely fall apart. The book itself was in sad shape, which explained why someone was attempting to transfer the information over. As best as she could tell, it was some sort of primer on plant-life.

"What are you doing?"

Sofia looked up to see Gerard standing there, his body wrapped in a cloak. It was impossible to tell what he was wearing underneath. For all she knew, he could be armed.

"This is the library," she said. "I figured it would be open to the public."

"That's not how libraries work," he sneered. "This is a repository for knowledge, a place where it can be preserved and protected."

"And distributed," added Sofia.

"Where necessary," Gerard admitted. He looked at her for a moment and frowned. "I doubt there's anything here you'd be interested in."

"Anywhere that books exist is interesting," Sofia replied. "I imagine a place like this, sequestered from the rest of the world, has some very unique titles." To illustrate her point, she picked up a book from a nearby stack. "In fact, --"

The thick grain beneath her fingertips stopped her cold. Frowning, she looked up at Gerard. "What is this bound with?" she asked.

"It's time for you to leave," Gerard growled, and then he was beside her. She hadn't even seen the man move. When he grabbed her roughly by the arm, she was subjected to several potential futures where she intended to resist, only for him to casually break her arm before tossing her out. The man was easily a couple of feet shorter than she was. There was no natural reason for him to be so strong.

When they reached the door of the library, Gerard gave her a shove. She stumbled forward a few feet, then turned to hear the bolt being thrown behind the door. Sighing, she fidgeted at her braid as she wandered off, then looked at her hand.

The book she had picked up in the library had been bound from human skin, just like the journal. She was sure of it. But to what purpose? It's not like she could just ask Gerard now. The asshole had tossed her out.

Frustrated, the cyclops continued aimlessly wandering the castle. She was bitter that she hadn't even had the opportunity to speak with Gerard. He had immediately become hostile at her presence, and now she would go back to Mike with nothing to show for it. This frustration caused her to pluck at her braid as she stomped through the lonely halls. The servants were nowhere in sight. If she called out for help, would one of them suddenly appear? Was that the presence she continuously felt?

"Can someone help me find my tower?' she called experimentally. When nobody replied, she continued walking. If the servants were monitoring her, they were fucking useless.

The castle itself didn't seem to possess any architectural symmetry or logical layout. It was almost like it had been built over a long period of time, probably with more than one architect. At least it didn't change like the last castle had when she walked from one room to another. In a bid to find one of the locked doors they had been forbidden to cross, she ended up moving down some dirty hallways with dust bunnies littered along the corners. An occasional breeze would flow in places, but it was sporadic. To her knowledge, the castle wasn't being heated, which meant airflow wasn't important to its denizens.

Her travels took her in a useless spiral that culminated at a large wooden door with a decorative archway above it. Suits of armor stood along both sides of the door, these ones being far more unique than the decorative ones she had previously seen throughout the castle. Pausing to inspect them, she discovered that despite being well polished, all had been damaged at some point in time. This was armor that had seen the thrill of battle!

She ran her fingers along the dent in a breastplate, trying to imagine the type of weapon that had scored such a wound upon it. Her best guess was a spear. There were twenty suits of armor here, all facing out as if guarding the door from intruders.

When Sofia gave the door a push, it opened, albeit slowly. Pausing, she looked at the knight closest to her.

“I was told I could go anywhere that wasn’t locked,” she declared. “So if you all have a problem with this, you’d better speak up now.”

The knight remained silent in its vigil. She gave the suit of armor a mock salute and shoved her way through to the other side. There was enough light streaming through a stained-glass window above to properly illuminate a pair of thrones. The motif in the window was of a massive apple tree, though holes had been punched in the glass that made it look like the tree was wilting.

The room could easily hold over a hundred people, but was empty of furniture or decorations. The ornate wooden floor had been gouged by a massive stone block that now lay at the base of the stairs leading to the throne. The scuff marks made it obvious that the stone had been dragged in. Sofia turned to look back out the door and noticed that the floors out there bore no such damage. Either it had been dragged through the castle and that had been repaired, or someone had carried it to this room before setting it down.

The block was nearly five feet tall. Sofia walked toward the thrones, then circled the stone block to get a better look at the stained-glass window. If not for the light coming through the window, she wouldn’t have noticed the metallic glint of a blade from the corner of her eye. It was embedded in the stone.

“Okay,” she muttered to herself. “Now that is very interesting.”

From the side, it was clear that the block of stone had been cleaved out of the ground and was now tipped on its side in the throne room. The blade glimmered in the light, and she knelt down to get a better look. It seemed similar to a Roman gladius, the hilt worn in places as if from heavy use. A discarded hammer and broken chisel lay on the ground nearby.

She couldn’t see any chisel marks around the stone itself. In fact, the stone was relatively smooth, other than a few jagged crenulations along the side. Putting her hands on the boulder, she could feel the ambient flow of mana moving through it.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” she declared, then knelt down to inspect the blade once more. It was clear that someone had tried to free the sword in the stone using forceful methods and had failed. Staring at the pommel, she licked her lips and put her hand on the grip.

“On the slim chance you were to free that blade, what would your next move be?”

Sofia looked up over the stone and saw that Galahad stood by the door. The man studied her with sad eyes, then gestured to the door behind him. “That door was supposed to be kept locked,” he said. “And you are not supposed to be in here.”

“Oh.” Sofia looked down at the blade and then back up at Galahad. “Is this what I think it is?”

“I cannot know what you think, and therefore cannot—”

“Is it Excalibur?” asked Sofia. “There. Now you know what I think.”

Galahad frowned as if he had just eaten something sour. “The Caretaker would not wish for you to carry such knowledge from the throne room. Should the identity of that blade remain in question, then you carry nothing and are safe from his wrath.”

“Wrath, huh?” Sofia debated giving the sword a tug, but thought back on Galahad’s words. If this sword really were the magical blade Excalibur, it wasn’t intended for her in the first place. Naturally, that was assuming that the legends were true. For all she knew, Excalibur chose its wielder and it had nothing to do with becoming royalty or anything else. It might just mean she ended up with a magic sword.

But if she did pull it from the stone, what then? Galahad didn’t seem to think that Vincentius would take kindly to the acquisition. Back in the dining hall, when Mike had almost blurted out his identity, her future sight had become an onslaught of terrible visions involving far too many teeth. She tried hard to remember if Galahad himself had been one of her attackers.

“So is that Vincentius’ throne?” she asked, letting go of the blade and pointing at the larger chair. “Who sits in the other one?”

“This castle belongs to the Caretaker,” said Galahad. “So it would be safe to assume that the thrones are his.”

That was an awful lot of words which didn’t technically answer my question, she thought to herself. She looked again at the thrones, then back to Galahad. “So what’s your story?” she asked. “Did you finally find the grail and drink from it?”

“I told you before that I am not the Sir Galahad of Arthurian legend,” the man grumbled.

“Actually, if I remember correctly, you implied that you weren’t in a way that could mean many things.” Sofia crossed her arms. “Galahad the Pure, son of Lancelot and the Lady Elaine, if I remember correctly.”

Galahad’s complexion darkened, but she couldn’t tell if it was anger or embarrassment. “You should leave this place,” he declared after several moments. “There is nothing for you to learn here.”

“This room? Or this castle?” Sofia shook her head. “Or do you mean Avalon? You see, we came here chasing a story about a cure for our friend. We find a magical island tied directly to the Holy Grail along with a spiritual leader named after the man who King Arthur sent to find it. How does the saying go? Once is a coincidence, twice is a pattern?”

“Please leave this room,” Galahad growled. His features suddenly softened as he heard his own voice echo back at him. “If not for your sake, then the sake of those who travel with you.”

“Or what? You’ll make me?” She wondered what the man would do. It was clear he wanted to speak in riddles. Was he ashamed of the past? Or hiding something far more sinister.

Galahad sighed. “I won’t,” he replied. “But I will remind you that the Caretaker’s kindness will only extend so far.” He stepped aside and gestured toward the door. “Please go,” he said. “I won’t ask you again and shall leave you to the consequences.”

Disgruntled, Sofia decided to play nice. She walked through the doors ahead of Galahad and listened as they closed softly behind her and clicked. The throne room was locked once more, but she refused to allow that to be the end. This was yet another clue to share with the others, hopefully one that would finally yield some fruit.

When she turned to attempt to grill Galahad some more, she discovered that the man had disappeared.

---

Moving through the castle, Mike allowed Cerberus to take the lead while he inspected the place with his magic. At times, it was bereft of activity and felt like a tomb. Other times, he could feel an undercurrent of magic just behind the walls, and would ask Cerberus to help him figure out where all that magic was going. On a couple of occasions, he could feel the castle’s magic swell up and shift toward him as if in recognition. Other times, it fled in fear.

“Weird fucking place,” he muttered to himself, his forehead pressed against the cold stone wall. The nearby torches flickered as if in agreement.

At one point, they found themselves in a small room with a broken window that overlooked the bottomless ravine. Pondering what could be down there, he conjured up a lightning spider. Cerberus watched the door as he tossed the spider through the window and closed his eyes, doing his best to maintain a link to it.

The spiders didn’t technically have any mass, which meant gravity only sort of worked on them. Sure, his spiders could fall, but it seemed like it was more out of habit, and they didn’t really accelerate any further after the first ten feet. The first one he tossed was moving too slow after a minute, so he let it wink out of existence and looked around the room to find something he could attach to the next one. The room itself seemed to be a long forgotten pantry, but he did find a wooden handle that looked like it had been broken off a broom.

He summoned another spider and had it grab onto the handle. After he dropped the wooden rod out the window, he closed his eyes and tried to hold the connection. It took everything in his power just to maintain its existence and the link that they shared as the spider plummeted away from him. There was only darkness and a phantom sense of falling, eventually reaching a terminal velocity much faster than a spider on its own.

Shivering, Mike hugged himself as he felt that magical tether stretch. He had been counting at first, but had made it all the way to five hundred before he could no longer do that and still maintain the connection. The little lightning spider felt so far away and tiny now, yet there was no sense of anything but looming darkness.

What was this hole in the world beneath them? Who created it? Yet another mystery about this place to toss on to the pile.

The connection fizzled, and Mike’s awareness popped back into the room. Cerberus stood nearby, all three heads looking in different directions as they listened for anyone coming. The hellhound noticed that he had opened his eyes, and all three heads turned to face him.

“Did. It. Work?” they asked.

“Not really,” he said, then stood and winced. He had been sitting long enough that his legs were cramped. “That is a deep hole. Don’t fall into it. I get the impression that you’ll starve to death before hitting the bottom.”

“We. Shall. Obey,” they said.

“C’mon. We’re done with this room.” Mike leaned out the window and looked down into the darkness. He only gave it a casual glance and then looked away, inexplicably worried that he would see something looking back. A chill ran up his spine when he thought about that endless chasm. Was it some kind of premonition, or just a run-of-the-mill fear of falling forever?

He stepped out into the hallway with Cerberus. The two wandered some more, but Mike was unable to catch any further traces of the magic he had sensed earlier. Frustrated that his search thus far had yielded nothing, he continued deeper into the structure. On rare occasions, he would either hear footsteps or a distant servant moments before they disappeared. Otherwise, the castle was quiet.

“Why do you think he has everyone living in the village?” asked Mike. “There’s plenty of room up here. Seems strange that there aren’t any…normal people, for lack of a better term.” While Vincentius and the vassals had noble titles, they certainly didn’t seem to live like nobility. So why self-isolate?

“What. About. Gargoyles?” asked Cerberus.

He stopped in his tracks and looked at the hellhound. “Actually, what about them? They didn’t seem all…servant-y,” he said. “I wonder what they can tell us about this place. Good thinking.”

Cerberus wagged their tail, then blushed furiously when he scratched their heads. The hellhound skipped behind him as they searched the castle anew, pausing to pursue corridors that may lead them to one of the towers. Now that he had some kind of destination in mind, a pattern in the architecture emerged. The map they had already drawn led him to the outer perimeter, and he found his first tower in about twenty minutes. When he stepped onto the connecting bridge, it was identical enough to the one by his tower that he almost wondered if they had gotten turned around somehow. However, by the time he got to the door, a servant stepped out of a side passage he hadn’t seen on the way across and stopped in front of them.

“This tower is off-limits to guests,” said the servant. Mike couldn’t even tell what gender they were. Between the lack of facial expressions or vocal nuance, it was almost like someone had slapped paint on a mannequin and put it to work.

“Does someone live here?” asked Mike.

“This tower is off-limits to guests,” replied the servant.

“Yeah, I get that,” Mike responded. “I was just curious if this was the caretaker’s tower, or maybe—”

“This tower is off-limits to guests.”

“I will give you a thousand dollars to say something different,” Mike replied.

“This tower is off-limits to guests. This tower is off-limits to guests. This tower is—”

“Okay, okay, this tower is off-limits, we get it.” Mike took Cerberus by the hand and led them away. Looking back at the door, he saw that the servant was still standing there, eyes straight forward and speaking the same line on repeat. A quick inspection revealed that there was a soul, but it had shriveled up like a berry left in the sun for too long. Once they were back inside the castle, he looked at Cerberus. “That was weird. What did you think?”

“Broken. Shattered. Enslaved.” Cerberus let out a trio of growls. “Drained. Of. Life.”

“Yeah, that sums it up. They were like a robot. Either our boy Vinny did something shady to them, or that was a Federal employee.”

“We. Don’t. Understand.”

“Don’t worry about it, just a little joke from our world is all. But do me a favor. If I ever turn into the kind of person who makes people like that, take me out.”

Cerberus wilted. “As. You. Command,” they replied.

“Hey, don’t take it like that,” he said as they moved through the halls. “We’ve got a lot of years ahead of us, right? It seems like there’s always a slim chance that I’ll end up like—” His danger sense flared just as he was about to say Emily’s name. Looking around, he remembered that eerie feeling of being watched. “Uh, the last guy who took care of our place. I don’t want to end up making the same mistakes that they did.”

Cerberus nodded. To Mike’s knowledge, they had not met Emily, though there was always a small chance that the previous Caretaker had wandered through the gates of the Underworld only to be chased away. If so, the hellhound had never brought it up.

After checking the map a couple of times, Mike made it to the next tower. It took longer than expected because the towers themselves weren’t actually on the same level with each other. Upon opening the door, he found himself staring at a shattered bridge that had once led to a tower. He had obviously gotten turned around. This was the missing tower that had been mentioned earlier.

“Wow,” he muttered to himself, moving close to the edge. It gave him an unobstructed view of the darkness below, which caused him to immediately step away. Cerberus sniffed at the air and wrinkled their noses.

“Bad. Magic. Here.” Their ears drooped and they stepped back toward the door. “Stings. Our. Noses.”

“What does it smell like?” asked a mysterious voice. Mike spun in place and saw a gargoyle clinging to the archway just above the door they had come through. The creature hopped down, his wings flaring widely just before he landed with a thud.

“Sorrow,” replied all three heads at once.

The gargoyle nodded. “I suppose that makes sense. Lord Vincentius was quite upset when this place was destroyed. It was full of many priceless artifacts.”

“Were you here when it happened?” asked Mike.

The stone creature nodded. “We were, but the memory of the event has been wiped from our minds. Some of us perished in the attack, and the person who came here cast a terrible spell upon the tribe.”

“Who was that?” asked Mike.

The gargoyle shrugged. “We can’t remember. Even if we could, we would dare not speak their name. Such a being would know it was being spoken of, and is likely to return. To our knowledge, this is the only successful attack on his home in centuries.”

“Damn. Centuries, huh? And he’s been here all this time?”

The gargoyle made a face and waggled his hand. “In the castle, yes. The island, no. He brought his home here shortly before we came. It was an agreement he made with us. This place would be a sanctuary for our people and we would make sure to keep it safe.” He held out a stony hand. “My name is Slade.”

“Mike.” He took the gargoyle’s hand and shook it. “I was actually trying to find the tower your people lived in.”

“Why?” Slade tilted his head to one side. He had no hair and his massive lower jaw made him look like an ogre. “Is your current tower not to your liking?”

“Oh, our new home is perfectly fine,” Mike said. “I was curious about your people, is all.”

“Hmm.” Slade scratched at his jaw. “I suppose I see no harm in it.” He pointed to a tower that was two over. “The only way to get there is from a staircase on the ground floor.”

“Any reason?”

Slade nodded. “It’s in case of injury. My kind are extremely heavy, and can damage the wooden floors by walking on them. That path is made entirely of stone, and an injured gargoyle can walk it if necessary.”

“Do you get injured often?”

Slade laughed. “It’s mostly the younger ones. They will sometimes injure themselves flying about and practicing aerial maneuvers that are best left to birds.”

“You have birds here?” Mike hadn’t seen a single one.

“No, actually. Well, the villagers have chickens, but they don’t fly.” Slade jerked a thumb at the tower. “Would you like me to fly you there?”

“No thanks. We’ll walk.” Mike gave the gargoyle a smile. “But it would be great if you introduced us.”

Slade shrugged, his wings naturally folding around him like a cloak. “It’s not like I have much else to do. I’ll meet you over there.” The gargoyle grinned and backed toward the shattered bridge. “Do you want a head start?”

“I don’t think it would matter.”

“You’re right.” The gargoyle winked and backed over the ledge. Seconds later, he could be seen pumping his wings and flying toward the gargoyle’s tower. The twilight sky made him look like a bat.

“C’mon,” Mike said, taking Cerberus by the hand. “Let’s go meet the locals.”

Even with directions that he had been given, it took a while for Mike to find the right staircase on the first floor. Sure enough, once he ascended, the passages were made entirely of stone. The lighting here was minimal, as if the designer knew the staircase and hallways wouldn’t be used much. This part of the castle was much colder as well, causing Mike to rub at the goosebumps running up his arms.

At first, he thought the temperature was just a fluke, but he eventually spotted the magic running beneath its floors to siphon away the heat. The purpose didn’t entirely make sense until he opened the door leading to the gargoyles tower and heard the roaring of the updraft that surrounded it. Slade was waiting for them, hands crossed over his chest and grinning.

“You made it,” he said.

“Is the magic creating thermals?” asked Mike as he looked over the side. Down below, the heat that had been siphoned away was being poured into the air directly beneath this tower and its bridge.

Slade nodded. “It makes flight easier, yes.” He turned and gestured toward the tower with two fingers. “Would you like to meet the tribe?”

The door to the tower opened long before they got there. A few gargoyles were already waiting, staring at Mike with indiscernible expressions. He called on his magic and readied the one actual spell he knew just in case.

“Hello,” he said, greeting the group. “My name is Mike. This is Cerberus.” He tilted his head toward the hellhound. “I figured since we live here now, we may as well get to know each other.”

The gargoyles all stared at him.

“Do you guys have names?” He looked at each one in turn. There were a few males and a pair of females as far as he could tell. They were all wrapped up in their wings, so he was relying very much on what he knew about gargoyle anatomy from Abella to figure that out. When nobody responded, he coughed into his hand. “Okay, I guess we’re not doing names today. What’s it like living here?”

Still, no answer. Mike looked at Slade, who just shrugged and stared at the ceiling as if there was something interesting up above. Now that things were awkward, he fumbled desperately for ideas in an attempt to break the ice. “I don’t suppose any of you know a gargoyle named Abella?” he asked.

At this, one of the gargoyles stepped forward.

“Abella? You know a gargoyle named Abella?” The creature seemed excited and looked at the others. “Hey, everyone! This guy knows Abella!”

Now this was a twist. The whole group was now chattering excitedly amongst each other in a language he didn’t recognize.

“Yeah, Abella,” he said. “She’s about this tall, I know she lived in Europe for a really long time, and—”

The chattering went immediately silent and a massive gargoyle stepped forward and crouched down so that their eyes met.

“We don’t know any Abella,” he said, revealing huge teeth.

“You just assume that all gargoyles must know each other. Typical human.” This was from a female gargoyle who scoffed and looked away in disgust.

“Yeah, human. Do you know Reginald Aldrich?” The gargoyle poked Mike in the chest. “He was alive in the 1500’s, lived in a house.”

“Oh, oh, what about that one guy with the beard?”

“Yeah! Do you know that beard guy?” This came from a short gargoyle who hopped while he spoke. “He has three goats! You’re a human, so obviously you know the bearded goat guy!”

Mike rolled his eyes and relaxed as the gargoyles all broke into wild laughter. These guys were just fucking with him. Slade patted him on the back and grinned.

“Sorry about that. We don’t often get visitors. Apparently, this is what we do now.” Slade chuckled and gestured at the others. “C’mon, guys. Quit being assholes and introduce yourselves.”

“My name is Rock,” said a gargoyle.

“I am also Rock,” said another one.

“Me am Pebbles!” shouted the short one.

Mike laughed again and patted his chest. “You may call me Fleshy McMeatbags.” This elicited howls from the group, and more gargoyles gathered around to join in the fun. He didn’t bother rushing them, as it seemed like each one had some joke or jab they wanted to get in.

After a short time, the chaos settled, and proper introductions were made. The large gargoyle was named Jett, and the short one was actually named Gravel. He had a tough time remembering the others as they were introduced en masse, and none were quite as strikingly different as those two.

Slade took Mike on a tour of the tower and showed him how some of the rooms had been altered for takeoffs and landings. During Mike’s visit, the castle rotated, and now they were facing the cliffs. A few gargoyles hopped out of one of the windows and just rode the thermals, playfully tumbling around in the air for his amusement. This shortly turned into a competition where they shared the aerial tricks they had perfected in this space, doing mid-air loops that put anything Mike had seen from Abella to shame.

The gargoyles only had a few questions for Mike, as most of their curiosity was for Cerberus. The hellhound didn’t offer much of value, but each head was eventually engaged in separate conversations. Mike tried to follow along with what was being talked about, and realized he simply couldn’t. The hellhound had always given him their complete attention and took turns speaking, so it was a bit jarring to see this different side of them.

Slade took Mike up to the top of the tower and they walked outside onto the spire. A metal ring had been installed along the ledge, which a few gargoyles clung to. Mike listened as Slade explained how the thermals worked, what sort of breezes came off the lake around Avalon, and even talked about some of the gossip down in the village. There wasn’t much for the tribe to do here, so spying on humans for their own entertainment was always a favorite past-time.

“Wait a second,” Mike said. “If you all are peeping toms, does that mean you were all watching me when my friend and I were fucking?”

“Ah.” Slade rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. “There were no fewer than ten gargoyles around your window before your friend started yelling, and then they had to cover their ears and flee. We were watching all of you, actually. It just so happened that you two…um, five?”

“It’s better not to worry about how many people Cerberus counts as,” said Mike.

“Right. You were the most interesting of the lot. That Nyx woman is very creepy. Whenever I look at her, I feel like I’m falling.” Slade paused and looked down the side of the tower. “Actually, I feel bad. I know that your kind has a violent fear of heights, I shouldn’t have brought you up here.”

“It’s fine, actually.” To demonstrate, Mike hopped onto the metal rail and balanced on it. The part of his soul that belonged to Abella not only diminished his fear of heights, but also gave him some sort of insight into the breeze swirling around the tower. Kisa’s soul piece gave him an unnatural sense of balance. Over the last year, he had noticed that some of these attributes had gotten stronger, but didn’t know if that was a function of time or how often he had sex with them. “See? Doesn’t bother me.”

“Impressive,” muttered Slade. “You don’t fear falling?”

“I don’t like the idea of falling into that,” he said, pointing down into the darkness below. “And I also suspect you’d have plenty of time to catch me if I did.”

“You’re very trusting for a human. Well, an outsider, anyways.” Slade turned toward the village. “The people below like us well enough, but we don’t spend much time with them.”

“Why not?”

Slade shrugged. “We have each other. And to be honest, humans don’t live very long. When your own lifespan is measured in centuries, it’s hard to get attached to someone who only lives a few decades.”

“It’s more than a few,” Mike countered.

“Not really. A couple is two. A few is three or four. The people down below never make it past four.”

“That’s…” Mike looked down toward the village with a frown. “Humans should live much longer than that. Well, almost double, anyway.”

Slade nodded. “That doesn’t happen here in Avalon. The Caretaker explained to us that it’s a function of the magic. Their bodies start to break down around that age, and so the Caretaker summons them before they are in too much pain so that he can send them directly to Heaven.”

“What, like through a door or something?” Mike tried to hide the anger in his voice.

The gargoyle shrugged. “We don’t know. His vassals are present, so only they know what transpires. I can say that when everyone leaves the chamber, the departed is simply gone, as if they never existed in the first place. My people wonder if an angel arrives to take them, or maybe even God.”

“God? Angels? Your people seem awfully accepting of a religion that doesn’t have a place for them.”

“Most religions don’t. It doesn’t change the fact that those things exist, though. While my people have been hunted in the past by men of the cloth, Lord Vincentius is different. His faith precedes the crusades, though I do understand he participated.”

“Precedes the crusades? Was he a crusader?”

“We believe so. He has fought in many wars. A few suits of armor in this castle belonged to him, actually. At some point, he settled down, but that’s his story to tell.”

Mike rolled his eyes. “I’m tired of hearing that.”

“Well, it’s all you will hear, because we don’t know anymore. That nugget of information is all we’ve overheard from the vassals over the last couple of centuries.” Slade winked. “When we can spy on them, anyway.”

“What can you tell me about the vassals?”

“Not a whole lot. Lord Galahad speaks to us, but not often. He walks with a great sadness on his back, much like Lady Charlotte. It is her job to raise the children. Every grownup down below learned most of what they know from her when they were little.”

“And Gerard?”

Slade snorted. “He rarely leaves his library.”

“What of Lady Cecilia and Amymone?”

“Also rarely seen. Only Lady Charlotte and Lord Galahad leave the castle on a regular basis. When we celebrate special occasions, the villagers come into the castle proper where the Caretaker greets them.”

“What sort of special occasions?” asked Mike.

“He greets every child here when they’re ready to be baptized,” Slade explained. “He also performs all the weddings. People will often hold festivals in town and beg him to come, but he never leaves the castle.”

“Why not?” Now that was something that had Mike’s attention.

Slade shrugged. “No idea. We’ve never seen him do it. There’s a rumor that the castle’s magic relies on him, or he’s linked with the building. None of us are quite sure. But we do know that’s part of the reason we’re here, to protect the exterior from any harm.”

They walked back into the tower where Cerberus was now speaking with a small gargoyle that looked like a child. After another hour of chatting about Earth and other stuff, Mike could see that the hellhound was wilting under all the attention. He informed everyone that it was time for them to go back to their room and sleep. This elicited some good-natured groans from the tribe.

Slade walked them to the door of the castle with a huge grin on his face and shoved the door open for them. Mike waved back as he and Cerberus walked into the castle proper and headed toward their tower suite. Sofia was already there, and the two exchanged information for a bit before Cecilia and Sulyvahn returned. The banshee whispered something in his ear about Lady Charlotte.

More pieces of the puzzle were sliding into place, and Mike did not care for the picture that had already formed. The group was in the middle of discussing what it all could mean when he felt a questioning presence in the back of his mind. He excused himself and went to a comfortable settee in a quiet corner.

Kisa? Is that you?

Finally! Her thoughts warbled and stretched, likely distorted by the time difference.

Is everything okay? Is Tink okay?

For now, but listen. It’s the rats, they can’t get through!

Mike grabbed onto the arm of his chair and squeezed, the wood creaking dangerously beneath his fingers. What do you mean they can’t get through?

Reggie says there’s something blocking them! They’ve tried a few times and the hole keeps collapsing. Mike, you’re stuck!

His heart rate climbed and he jumped to his feet. A dull roaring sound filled his ears and he realized that the others had stopped talking and were looking at him.

“We’re trapped?” he said, both aloud and in his head to Kisa.

Ratu and Yuki are looking into it, but Reggie says that he can’t do anything! It’s probably because you’re technically on fae land.

A pounding sound formed in his head and he squeezed his hands into fists. The magic came, causing the air around his body to sizzle as he turned toward the door of the castle. The connection between him and Kisa vanished as he stormed toward the door.

“Mike?” Sofia stood. “What happened?”

“It turns out that bastard was telling the truth,” he growled. “He really has trapped us here.” His children were back on Earth, and so was Tink. In his mind, the only thing keeping them apart was one man. A small breeze formed around him as he moved toward the door. He wasn’t about to let one man stand between him and his family.

“My love, please. Lady Charlotte said to wait for her,” said Cecilia. “She may have answers.”

The air took on a heavy presence as Mike put his hand on the door. “I’m tired of being told to wait,” he said as the air around him hissed. “We waited for the caretaker. We waited to explore the castle. Now you want me to wait for some woman to come tell me more riddles. My children are going to grow up without me and Tink is gonna be stuck pregnant for the next several years if I have to keep waiting!” His anger got the best of him as he yanked the door open and moved to step out. A slender hand shot out from beyond the door to push him back.

“LET. ME. THROUGH!” he roared. Frustrated, he pushed back, his magic curling around him in an attempt to propel him forward and causing the floor to groan beneath its power.

The diminutive figure of Lady Charlotte was not to be denied as she casually shoved him back into his room. When Mike’s butt hit the floor, he stared up at the woman in awe as she shut the door behind her.

Everyone else stood, but Charlotte held up a hand to stop them. “I mean no harm,” she said, sticking a hand in her pocket. “I just wanted the opportunity to meet with you.”

“I…you…” Mike spluttered as his magic fought against him. It demanded he stand and march through the castle and tear Vincentius a new asshole. The golden light flickering amongst his fingers had taken on a copper hue as he stood.

Charlotte pulled a slate out from behind her back, along with a piece of chalk from her pocket. “It seems like I have come at a bad time,” she said, quietly writing on the slate.

“We can’t be kept here!” Mike shouted, and the air around him roared in agreement.

“I promise you it isn’t all bad,” Charlotte replied as she turned the slate toward him. “In fact, I, too, struggled when I first learned there was no going home. But I have since learned to love it here, and you can, too.” On the slate, she had written V is listening right now. I’m here to help.

“I…what?” Mike stood, forcibly trying to calm himself and his magic. Cecilia moved to help him. “But I have family back home. They need me.”

“I understand. But I can tell that you’re angry, so maybe we can talk tomorrow.” She casually erased the board and wrote again. Will tell you everything, but need to show you something first. Don’t ask questions.

“Tomorrow? We have to wait again?”

“If you would calm down, we could speak now,” she said, then wrote on the back of the slate and flipped it over. Don’t calm down. Thing to show is tomorrow only.

“I won’t fucking calm down!” he shouted. There was no pretending anymore. The magic flowing through his body wanted results just as badly as he did. “What is stopping me from marching across the castle and strangling your boss?”

Taking a step forward, he was caught off guard when Charlotte blurred in front of him and he was lifted into the air. He kicked and gasped, then looked down and realized that the woman had grabbed him by the jaw and lifted him with one arm. Despite his precarious position, his magic hadn’t warned him. This wasn’t a threat, but a point being made. He held out a hand to stop the others. Sofia had already pulled out her blade and Cerberus was growling, but Charlotte ignored them. She held the slate up so Mike could see it.

I am the weakest vassal. Tomorrow you will understand why.

Stunned, Mike stopped kicking his legs and she lowered him to the ground. The others backed down, and Charlotte wrote something on the slate as she spoke.

“Even if you did wish to assault our lord, you wouldn’t find him,” she said. “He only appears when he wants to. But he is benevolent, Mike Radley, and understands that you are hurting. These are the words of an angry man, and rightfully so. I will come by tomorrow during lunch so that we can speak with cooler heads. With any luck, you will better understand your situation and come to appreciate it, even.”

“How can I appreciate leaving my children behind?” he asked, his voice strained with grief. He hadn’t felt so angry since the time the SoS had taken them. This time, he was the one being held hostage.

“In time, we mourn those we’ve left behind. You’ve been chosen for bigger things.” Charlotte smiled sadly, then turned the board over. Can I count on you? it said.

Mike grimaced, then nodded reluctantly. “Lunch tomorrow,” he grumbled. “And you’ll tell me everything I want to know.”

She nodded and tucked the slate away. “Of course,” she replied, then backed toward the door. “Until tomorrow.” Charlotte gestured at the walls, tapped her ears, and then held a finger over her lips as she left.

Mike looked at the others and registered the shock on their faces. His magic demanded action, but he commanded it to settle down. If Charlotte could so casually knock him around, what of the others? This place had become his prison, and his jailers were far stronger than he was.

“Fuck this place,” he shouted, knowing full well that Vincentius could hear him. Letting out a deep sigh, he felt Cecilia’s arms wrap around him from behind. He turned to face her and allowed tears of frustration to roll freely down his cheeks.