Deceptive Practices

The people of Avalon were naive at best. Nyx didn’t even bother considering them fools. Their complete lack of common sense was a result of the environment they had been bred for. A proper warrior didn’t laud their own strength over that of a child, after all.

However, their lack of intellect did not spare them from her schemes. Finley had been the first, owing her for the apple she had handed him. She had come upon him in the midst of a meal with his family, excitedly chattering about the newcomers to the island.

To Nyx’s displeasure, the family had been fantastic hosts. They had offered her food, drink, and even allowed her to sit where the family head usually did. She had been unable to find fault with their actions, but soon discovered that the simple act of helping pass around the food put them greatly in her debt. It had been a lesson in efficiency, one that she had taken with her after leaving. In fact, she had been so grateful to Finley and his family for this knowledge that she declared to them that their debts were paid in exchange for some food to take with her.

The other people in the village, however, were fair game. All it took was handing someone a piece of bread, an apple, or anything else they may take interest in, and they would immediately thank her for it. She started by asking for the stories of their elders and was more than a little bothered when she learned there weren’t any. The oldest people in the village were near the end of their third decade, which was cause enough for suspicion. Nyx already knew why these people were being kept here, but that didn’t require culling them back so far.

A bit of digging was all it took to find some answers. Though the people couldn’t remember anything on their own, that was hardly enough to stop the Fae. After all, they had thanked her for a service, and she required payment. Memories were much like currency for her, easily extracted and perused at her leisure. The oldest people in the village had some that intrigued her, an incident from many years back that involved a visit from another outsider, a woman with black hair and a smile that could steal the heart from any man or woman.

Her name was Natalie. She had come to this place with stories of a magical home full of mythical creatures and had used that smile to win over the people of the village. She had stayed for nearly a month, captured the same way that Mike had been. The mirror was controlled somehow by Vincentius, that much Nyx had gathered on her own.

As to how Natalie escaped and what came next, Nyx had no idea of knowing. The people who remembered the woman had been sheltered from the fallout by Lady Charlotte, who kept the children locked up in her school. She and Sir Galahad had protected them from Vincentius’ rage, which was likely the only reason there were still any humans on the island at all.

When the people of Avalon ran out of memories that held any value, Nyx extracted promises from them instead. They didn’t fear her yet, and all promised her a favor at a later time. The thing about promises to the Fae was that they were magically enforceable, and Nyx wasn’t entirely certain what she intended to do with them yet. When the time came, nearly a third of the village would obey her commands should she give them.

The story of the nymph in the fountain was likely a hold over from Natalie’s visit many years ago. That much she had admitted to Mike, as it pertained to their agreement. She could have told him about Natalie, but that connection wasn’t yet clear, so she wasn’t required to share.

Mike Radley fascinated her. Even now, the sky rumbled in response to his current state of mind, to which Nyx hoped she had contributed. The primary reason for her visit yesterday had been to vex him. Though he couldn’t see it from the outside as she did, his soul was in turmoil, like a pot ready to boil over. Something he would do in the future would change everything for the Fae, and she sometimes wondered if her presence alone wouldn’t be the catalyst for change. If that was the case, perhaps it was something she could use to her advantage.

If Mike were about to do something that would directly harm her people, she would stop it and take full credit. It didn’t matter if her behavior was somehow the cause, they would grant her a higher standing for saving their way of life.

However, if that harm were to somehow put the Seelie Court or her own family in a better position, she would stand back and allow it to happen first. She would still punish him later for any harm caused, of course. Her discretion in such a matter would yield her a place of power among the Seelie.

On the odd chance that he did something that would result in the elimination of the Queen, Nyx would do everything in her power to step over others and into that role. Whether that meant a negotiation of peace with the Caretaker, or even a declaration of war, it would not matter. Ruling over the Fae was never meant to be a job for only one being, and the King’s absence had driven a wedge between the Queen and her people.

Nyx sneered at the memory of the King. He had become enraptured by the worship of the mortals and fallen victim to it. The Queen was now in a similar position, and it would be far better for the Fae if they could depose her long before she abandoned them.

Her own feelings about the Queen were mixed. If not for circumstantial evidence that she may be in league with the Caretaker, Nyx and others would be squarely on her side. The Fae simply could not endure being abandoned again, especially not for a race as simple and pathetic as humans.

The Fae princess closed her eyes. How many times had she gone to meet with the King in his human guises, to beg him to return to their people? She hadn’t been the only one, either. No amount of logic or pleading had been enough to dissuade him. Despite his human body breaking down as a result of hosting his grand soul, it was the adoration of the humans he craved like a drug. They had come to hear him sing, after all, and he wouldn’t disappoint them.

When the Queen had shattered his throne in a fit of rage, Nyx’s heart had burned with sympathetic anger. Even now, the remains of that throne sat as a testament to the failings of the King, an eternal reminder that the humans had stolen him away.

Shaking her head, Nyx stood and looked out over the village from her position on the roof of Finley’s home. She could see the fountain from here, which was nothing more than the eternal spring that fed Avalon its water supply. The fountain had been installed on top of it some time ago, and she had known better than to ask the stones to remember. The fountain itself was always occupied, and she preferred that any truths she discovered would remain hers to keep.

That, and Sir Galahad was always watching. There were many times she had discovered him about when she thought she was alone. The man clearly didn’t recognize her, but the mortal mind wasn’t meant to retain so many lifetimes worth of faces. She had been uncertain about his charade at first, but he spoke truly when he said that he was not the man they thought he was. While he was indeed the bastard son of Lancelot, he was no longer the noble man who had quested for the Holy Grail on King Arthur’s orders.

“How have you changed, ser?” Nyx stared in the direction of the simple church that had been constructed near the middle of town. Galahad was there right now, counseling a young man and woman on their impending nuptials. The former knight could not keep an eye on her while maintaining his regular duties. “Though of more importance, how have you not?”

Nyx stepped backwards off the roof and allowed the wind to carry her toward the castle. The magical vortex of air that provided lift to the gargoyles briefly became her playground as she danced across the sky, no doubt in full view of the stony guardians. When she at last alighted on the tip of a spire, one of their number rose from its crouch.

“How did you do that?” she asked. This gargoyle was younger than the others. “You don’t have wings or anything!”

“It’s easy,” said Nyx with a grin. “All you have to do is ask nicely.” To further vex the beast, she hopped onto a gust of wind that carried her to the top of the nearest tower. She rode it upside down with both arms behind her back, making sure to wink as it carried her away. Flipping over at the last moment, she came to halt on the top of the turret, balancing precariously on the iron tipped cone. If not for her shoes, her feet would already be bleeding from contact.

“Let’s get a better look at you,” she muttered, staring down at the castle. Ever since they had arrived, the structure had seemed familiar. Much in the same way Galahad didn’t recognize her face, her own mind was stuffed with far too many human structures to differentiate them. Castles often took a long time to build, too, so she often saw them through various stages of construction. Humans were similar in that they aged so fast, but at least they had souls to be recognized by.

Nyx spent perhaps an hour in that eerie twilight, hopping across the rooftops and attempting to block out portions of the castle with her hands. The gargoyles didn’t stop her from her travels, but did warn her away from Vincentius’ own tower. At first, the only difference she could see was that it was the largest. However, once she was up close, the stones told a very different story.

The Carefaker’s tower was far older than the rest, its facade altered to match. Towers weren’t built first, they came near the end, so she knew it had come from somewhere else. Realizing this place was likely an amalgamation constructed by magic was the final clue she needed as she hopped among the stones, asking each of them how old they were.

Even the gargoyles couldn’t follow her aerial antics as she leapt down into a gap that ran between one of the towers and the central keep. Falling until she was almost at the bottom, the breeze saved her at the last second by carrying her through an open window. Once inside, she could feel the internal magic of the building shift, likely sending out notice to its servants.

“Clever boy,” she muttered, then commanded her shadow to carry her. Whatever magical means of detection existed were quickly defeated when Nyx’s own shadow pushed free of the ground, lifting her up by an inch. She hopped down the nearest hallway, then found a flight of stairs to ascend.

This castle was several different buildings that hadn’t been stuck together, but merged. It was why the air flowed oddly and the hallways didn’t make sense. Once upon a time, Vincentius had merged more than one castle together to create this current monstrosity, and she had just discovered another of his secrets.

Nyx now stood at a pair of wooden doors she hadn’t seen since she was a sprite. It wasn’t that she had been much younger, but rather that she had been given a sacred task and the form of a water spirit had suited her best. The door itself had been locked from within, but her shadow slid beneath and pushed up the bar from the other side to allow her entry.

The doors swung open silently as her shadow pressed dirt and grit away from the wood. The room was cast in an amber hue by the picture window above the thrones of Camelot.

“Hmm.” Nyx stepped into the room proper and the doors shut behind her. “First he steals Avalon, then Camelot?” She walked over toward the massive stone in the middle of the room. “Or perhaps it’s the other way around? Which came first, the island or the keep? Is it an obsession? Is our host a collector? Oh, ho ho!” Nyx knelt down and flicked the hilt of the legendary blade, Excalibur. “You are definitely not supposed to be here!”

The Fae princess stood and surveyed the room. This place had a story, but what would it be? She looked back at the thrones and walked backward toward them, her eyes scanning the room. When she finally sat upon the throne itself, she breathed a single word.

“Remember,” she commanded in the old tongue. The stones let out a sigh as one, and the light of the room shifted wildly as the room itself tried to remember thousands of years in a single breath. That was the thing about the earth that mortals didn’t know—stones had the longest memories.

Luckily for Nyx, not much had happened in this place for many years. She saw a brief meeting between the cyclops and Galahad. The man himself spent much of his time here, gazing guiltily at the empty thrones. When Nyx went far enough back, she found herself gazing at a room full of people, all of them dressed in courtly attire.

She stepped out into the memory, listening to the people speak. Up on the throne were a man and woman she did not recognize, though the man was slightly familiar.

This was Camelot during the time after Arthur. She looked around, hoping to spot a familiar face and piece together the rest of the story. The king and his consort, perhaps even his queen, sat regally on their thrones, both of them in gilded clothing.

“Pah.” Nyx sneered at them from across the centuries. Arthur would never have wanted this. Though he had his failings, the Fae had coached him well on a sense of humility and justice.

The doors behind her slammed open, and Nyx spun in place along with the mortals. For a moment, she feared that she had been found, but this was still just a memory. A small group of armed men forced their way in, their features hidden behind dark armor. The royal knights moved to intercept them and protect the occupants of the room, but they were quickly disarmed and shoved back by the invaders. The dark-armored warriors were far stronger than a mortal should be.

As the nobility in the room were pressed against the walls and trapped, the king rose from his throne and drew his blade. The queen was escorted toward the back of the room where they attempted to flee through a secret exit. They were met by a pair of warriors who chased them back inside.

“Who dares to take Camelot?” shouted the unknown king. His honor guard rallied around him, ready to attack.

A large man wearing midnight armor walked into the room and laughed. He didn’t respond to the king’s question, instead barking orders in a language that only his people knew. Nyx scrunched up her face. Was that Greek? Or Roman? Languages were hard, especially when people were just making up sounds all the time that meant things.

“Your King commands you to answer!” shouted a brave warrior. The newcomer stepped forward and slapped the man aside hard enough that he crumpled to the ground.

“This place may be Camelot,” said the black knight. “But you are not its king.”

“I have a divine right,” shouted the king, but his face turned red as the black knight’s magic stretched across the room.

“Do not speak to me of divinity,” said the knight as he pulled off his helmet to reveal the visage of Vincentius. His eyes were like dark pools of collected shadows, and his bright red lips were starkly contrasted against paper-white skin. When his mouth twisted into a sneer, it looked like someone had drawn lipstick onto lines of cruelty. “You are naught more than the son of an opportunistic pauper.”

“Knights…of Camelot!” The king’s hand shook as he raised his blade.

“Bah. Stand down, you fools.” Vincentius chuckled, which caused at least two women to faint in terror. “You’ve already heard the rumors about me. Fighting would be a waste of my time and yours.”

“What is it that you want?” asked the queen.

“Hmm?” Vincentius raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I can smell your bravery from here. You’re made of sterner stuff than some of your countrymen. I suppose it would take a special act of bravery to spread your legs every night for a pretender.”

“BLASPHEMY!” One of the king’s guards charged. Vincentius stepped forward, dodging the blade aimed for his head, and dropped a large hand onto the knight’s shoulder. Using his other hand, he grabbed the man by the throat and pulled his arms apart. There was a loud crackling sound, followed by the wet gurgling of a dying man as Vincentius broke his neck and cast him aside.

“Shame,” he muttered, then put his foot on his victim. “Though I suppose you’ll keep long enough.” He raised his gaze to the queen and smiled. “As for what I desire, it’s to discover the true king of Camelot. One chosen by divine right.”

The queen glanced briefly at her husband. “You are looking at him,” she declared.

“No, that cannot be. You see, King Arthur himself was chosen by the divine. He was given a magical task, one that separated him from the others.” Vincentius grinned. “It is said that he had no heirs, but I believe this to be false. What sort of man could be surrounded by such flesh, yet fail to partake?” To emphasize his point, he approached one of the noble women and gazed down at her exposed cleavage. Sniffing the air around her, he grinned. “As a matter of fact, the pretender to the throne has already done so. So why not Arthur?”

“King Arthur was the best of us,” countered the queen. “And not prone to sins of the flesh.”

“Hmm.” Vincentius frowned. “That would certainly be regrettable. For you see, if this kingdom has no rightful heir, then I shall claim it for myself.”

“Why?” asked the king, the shadows at his throat finally releasing him. He dropped his blade on the ground.

“King Arthur was chosen by the divine and given a divine quest.” Vincentius surveyed the room. “He was chosen from your people, so I can only assume the divine shall do so again.”

Nyx groaned. Even though this event was within a century of Arthur’s fall, the stories had already been twisted. Arthur Pendragon had been chosen by the Fae in order to unite humanity, there was nothing divine about it. However, his quest for the grail had already altered the stories significantly. Such was the way with mortals. They had quite the imagination.

“You seek the grail?” asked the queen.

“Astute.” Vincentius grinned. “And also correct. You see, should I find the heir to the Pendragon name, then perhaps the divine will once again task them with finding this artifact.”

“Why? So you can live forever?” The queen moved next to her husband and put her hand on his shoulder.

“I already live forever,” Vincentius declared.

“No man does,” the queen replied.

“You mistake me for one.” Vincentius looked around the room. “Any one of you can be the person I seek.”

“We have no way of knowing,” said the queen. “My lord,” she added.

“Good. You catch on fast.” Vincentius walked back out of the room. Moments later, a loud grinding sound filled the air as he walked back in. Excalibur was buried deep in a massive stone that tore up the floor as Vincentius dragged it by the hilt, coming to a stop beneath the thrones. “As a matter of fact, I think we do have a way of knowing.”

“That can’t possibly be,” muttered the king. “Excalibur has been lost to us!”

“And now it’s found.” Vincentius looked at the blade with longing. “I went through a lot of trouble retrieving this. The Lady of the Lake was reluctant to part with it, as you can see.”

“Bastard,” muttered Nyx. One of her sisters had vanished long ago, along with the legendary blade. She now knew her sister’s fate.

“So, we shall have a contest!” Vincentius looked at his men and grinned. “Whosoever can pulleth this blade from the stone shall be the King of England! Or Queen,” he added. “Should a new king or queen be decided, then my men and I will not only leave, but I will become your humble servant in the grail’s search.”

“Anyone can look for it, my lord.” The queen stepped away from her husband, who was already eying the magical blade.

“But it can only be found by those who are supposed to seek it out!” Vincentius yelled this. “What part of this did you not understand? Do you not think I have already looked for it?”

The king knelt down and grabbed the hilt of the sword and pulled. His face turned bright red as he struggled with it. Vincentius watched in disgust for nearly a minute before he gestured at his men.

“Take him away,” he said. “If they fail to pull the blade, you know what to do. Do what you will with anyone beyond the age of fertility.”

“My lord?” The queen’s voice was barely a squeak. Vincentius growled playfully as he took a single step that somehow took him across the room. He caressed the queen’s jaw and turned her head.

“Do not despair, child. For if you should fail here, you shall become part of my flock. A good shepherd cares for—”

Nyx’s eyes went wide as the crossbar on the door lifted itself. She slid off the throne and ducked through the secret passage behind them, the memory abruptly terminating. She was hidden from sight when she heard Galahad’s soft voice behind her.

“Go ahead,” he said to someone else. “See if you can pull this blade from the stone.”

“Is this part of the ritual, Lord Galahad?” It was a voice Nyx recognized from the village. She didn’t dare move right now, the shadows keeping her hands and feet from the floor. So the villagers were descended from Camelot. She knew that none of them would pull the blade. It had nothing to do with genetics. The human had to be chosen by the Fae.

“It is,” Galahad whispered softly. “Before you can be reborn, we must see if you carry divine blood. The Caretaker requires it.”

“Then it shall be done.” The human grunted, obviously in efforts to retrieve the blade. Nyx quietly moved back, holding her breath and stilling her heart that Galahad may not detect her trespass. The temperature of her body became one with the stones around her as she waited.

“My lord,” gasped the villager. “I have failed you.”

“No, child. You have failed nobody. Come. We must prepare for the ritual.”

Nyx heard soft footsteps, followed by the shutting of the massive doors. She stepped out to gaze upon Excalibur once again, her lips twisting into a queer smile.

By nature, the Fae loved puzzles. There was something delightful about feeling like revelation was just outside your reach, and this was exactly where Nyx’s mind hovered. There were only a couple more pieces to be found before the entire picture revealed itself.

She turned back to the secret passageway and allowed the shadows to carry her inside. Maybe the final truth could be found hidden away inside. If so, she would have it.

---

Mike awoke the next morning with a poor appetite and a foul attitude. This was, in part, because he had just learned from Kisa that enough time had passed in the real world that it was now the morning of October 31st. That meant he was about to break a promise to his children. Thunder had actually rumbled throughout the castle, causing a servant to show up and ask if this was a hostile action on their part. Mike had informed the largely soulless creature that if he was to become a permanent resident of Avalon, they would need to get used to it.

Less than an hour after breakfast, he found himself sitting around and doing nothing other than waiting for Lady Charlotte to come and collect him sometime later in the day. His patience had finally collapsed, and it was easier for him to do nothing than to find something useful to occupy his time.

The others gave him space for a bit. He sat on some kind of lounger that was likely older than his own country and stared out the window at the cliffs below. The towers had rotated during the night and the screensaver view outside his window seemed to be mocking him. Naturally, he assumed this meant Nyx would eventually show up to harass him while he was down in the dumps, but the Fae princess had obviously found something better to occupy her time if she hadn’t arrived by now.

The eerie twilight reflecting off the cliffs cast his room in a crimson hue that reminded him of things he had seen in that underground bunker over the summer. He and some others had gone to exact revenge on those who had taken his children, and the results had been severely unpleasant. Memories from that night only deepened his misery. The hair on his arms occasionally rose up and gave birth to a tiny bit of lightning that would crawl across him and eventually vanish. His magic was hungry for action, but until he had a direction for it, the magic became like a tiny thunderstorm in his gut.

He sat in a quiet study and the door creaked open. Sofia stepped through, followed by Cerberus and Cecilia.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes barely flicking in their direction.

“Your attitude,” said Sofia. She moved in front of him and crossed her arms. “The thunder is a bit much, don’t you think?”

Mike waved a hand dismissively. “It’s not like I can control it,” he argued.

“Actually, you can. The princess and Vincentius have you all locked up inside your own head. You’re pissed off, I get it. But enough is enough, Mike.”

He turned to look at them. “So what? Is this an intervention or something?”

“Yes.” The cyclops moved quickly, pulling Mike off the chair and hefting him over one shoulder. He briefly struggled in response, then let out an exasperated sigh as she carried him across the tower to a different room. Sofia wasn’t the reason he was upset and he wasn’t about to start a fight with the cyclops.

They walked to the other side of the tower where a massive bathtub awaited. Mike frowned when he saw it. This is easily the size of a large hot tub.

“Where the hell did you find that thing?” he asked.

“I asked the servants,” said Cecilia with a grin. “It was in one of the unused towers, so they had the gargoyles bring it over.”

“And we all know how our Ca—” Sofia paused and then coughed as if something was caught in her throat, her eye flickering. “Careful guardian enjoys his baths,” she amended.

“That’s all well and good, but the plumbing here kind of sucks, doesn’t it?” Mike allowed Sofia to set him down. “A cold bath might cool me off, but I don’t think I’m going to…is that steam?” Tiny wisps of water vapor rose from the tub.

“We. Heated. It,” said Cerberus, each head smiling.

“We thought it would cheer you up,” said Cecilia with a grin. She cautiously walked over to the edge of the tub, her hands out to touch the rim. “I’ll wash your hair, if you want.”

“I…” Truthfully, he wanted to sulk, to go be angry and bitter. But when he looked into Sofia’s eye, it occurred to him that they were all just looking out for his well being. A distant rumble of thunder was quiet enough that he wasn’t sure if it had actually happened or he had imagined it.

“Are you getting in by yourself or am I throwing you in?” The way Sofia asked made it clear that she was fully prepared to throw his grumpy ass in that tub.

Mike looked at his feet and took a deep breath. “Thanks,” he said. “I think I can manage on my own.”

Sofia stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “Good,” she said.

“On one condition,” he added.

Sofia sighed. “What is it?”

“That you join me.” He grinned. “I’m not the only grump in this castle.”

The cyclops’ eyelid twitched. “I’m not grumpy,” she lied. “But I’d be happy to join you.” She looked around for a moment, then sighed. “I only brought enough towels for you, let me go get my own.”

“You can join as well,” he said to the others.

Cerberus shook their heads. “Guardians,” they declared all at once, and took a spot by the door.

“I’m not really one for baths, mo rúnsearc.” Cecilia grabbed the front of her dress and gave it a tug to illustrate her point. “But I will still wash your hair for you, if you wish.”

“I do.” Mike stripped out of his clothes. He set them down near a towel that had been put out for him, then allowed Cecilia to hold his hand and help him into the bath. The water was almost too hot, causing him to break out into a sweat immediately. He let out a long sigh as the heat released the tension in his muscles.

Cecilia seemed to sense this, and moved right behind him, her fingers kneading the muscles in his shoulders.

“You’ve gotten strong,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I like to think we all have.” He closed his eyes and smiled. “Stronger together, at the very least.”

“You are our strength as we are yours,” she replied, her breath cool in his ear.

The door of the room opened and Sofia returned. She hesitated for a moment, then moved next to the tub and pulled off her clothing. The wrap that held her breasts in place was longer than he expected as she carefully unrolled it.

“I didn’t expect such traditional undergarments,” he said.

“It’s my own version of a sports bra,” Sofia replied. “Compresses my breasts for battle, travel, and can even be used as a tourniquet, a restraint, or a climbing rope if need be.”

“What’s it made out of?” he asked.

“It’s a secret.” Sofia’s eye sparkled as she turned to face him, doing nothing to cover herself.

“I kind of think we’re past keeping secrets from each other,” he replied, his gaze locked onto her massive breasts. The skin above her chest immediately flushed pink.

The cyclops looked away and let out a dry laugh. “It’s a secret even from me,” she admitted. “I have no idea what it’s made from. The Library provided.”

“It always has, hasn’t it?” He stood and offered a hand to help her in. She declined it at first, then her eye flashed and she grabbed his fist just as she started to slip. Mike sent out a pulse of magic that kept both of them from falling.

“Thanks,” she said, then sank beneath the water. She had to recline quite a bit for her shoulders to be submerged and paused only long enough to wrap her braid up into a bun that she affixed to the top of her head. Her long legs went around him, and he reached out with both hands and rubbed the balls of her feet. “You don’t have to do that,” she said.

“Why not? If you’re going to go through all the trouble to get me naked in a bath, the least I can do is rub your feet a bit.” Mike winked at her.

“I…ugh, fine.” Sofia closed her eye and relaxed. “I hate this place so fucking much. It’s oppressive, weird, and there aren’t any good books to read.”

“You know…when Lady Charlotte comes later for a visit, we should ask what it takes to get permission to visit the library here.” What Mike really meant was that they should find out if Gerard would be busy and Sofia could go snoop, but he didn’t dare say that out loud.

“I suppose I could, but will probably just hang around here instead.” She opened her eye and gave him a knowing look, obviously understanding exactly what he meant. “At some point, we need to get used to this place.”

“Agreed.” He tilted his head back to look at Cecilia. “Hold on just a second.” The banshee released his shoulders and he submerged his head and waited several moments for the heat to sink into his scalp. Once he surfaced, he gave her a grin. “Since you promised to wash it and all.”

“T’was a bargain struck,” she replied, then felt around the base of the tub for a small basket that had been filled with some travel shampoo he had brought. It was an alchemical mixture that Zelenia had created, something that centaurs used for their human hair as well as their tails. “Lean back and relax,” she said.

Mike obeyed, allowing Cecilia to massage his scalp and wash him. He used that time to rub Sofia’s feet, and couldn’t help but smile when he heard a little moan of pleasure come from her. This was the sort of thing he enjoyed doing, acts of love and devotion with his family.

His mood briefly darkened when he thought about Tink. The whole reason he was here was to save her life, and they still had zero substantial leads. He hoped that changed really soon. A cure for his goblin wife and a viable exit strategy would do wonders for his mood.

The treatment he was receiving now, however, was a pretty good compromise. Sofia’s feet were easily large enough that he needed both hands to rub them. His magic was already migrating up her legs, and her features were now fully flushed. This, in turn, caused him to become quite erect.

Over by the door, Cerberus sniffed the air, then grinned in his direction. The atmosphere in the room had shifted, and Mike decided that it would be a good idea to lean into the change. His hair was sufficiently lathered now, the banshee’s slender fingers massaging his scalp with care. He slid below the surface of the water, his hands migrating up to squeeze Sofia’s calves. When he emerged, it was to see the cyclops staring at him with lust.

Grinning, Mike leaned forward, his hands running up Sofia’s massive thighs as he grew closer to her torso. Sofia was practically panting from his magic and touch. When he was about to place his hands on her massive breasts, Cecilia fell in behind him.

He turned around to help the banshee, who splashed quite a bit in an attempt to sit up. She was laughing, her hair now matted against her head.

“I forgot about my physical state,” she admitted as Mike moved hair away from her eyes. “I tried to follow you as a spirit, and only succeeded as a drowned rat.”

“You’re the prettiest rat I’ve ever seen,” he said running his thumb along her cheek. “Are you okay?”

“I am, my love.” Cecilia giggled. “It feels so strange, though. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt so warm!”

“A bath will do that,” said Sofia, her tone indicating she was bothered by the interruption. Mike looked at the cyclops to see her soul fluctuating between arousal and disappointment. When he turned back to Cecilia, her sparkling white eyes were on him.

“I was about to do a thing,” he admitted. “I don’t suppose you’d like to double up on new experiences today?”

Cecilia looked past Mike hungrily. “I can feel your lust in my own heart, a stór. Would that I could experience it fully alongside you.”

“Only if Sofia is interested.” He looked back at the cyclops. “I can promise the experience will be—”

“Don’t,” Sofia cautioned.

“Haunting,” Mike finished.

“Do you really think your puns are sexy?” Sofia asked, crossing her arms.

“You’re a librarian,” he said as he crawled along her body. “Clever wordplay is the same as foreplay.”

“Emphasis on the word clever,” Sofia muttered. Her hand slid beneath the water to grab Mike’s cock. She sighed dramatically. “I suppose if you need a helper today, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Four hands to please you,” added Cecilia. “And two mouths to tease you.”

“Now that’s clever wordplay,” said the cyclops. Mike shifted forward to kiss her, his hands on her left breast. When they broke apart, Cecilia moved up the other side of Sofia’s body, her lips parting.

“I’ve never kissed a spirit before,” said Sofia.

“I might just take your breath away.” Cecilia’s lips met Sofia’s, and the cyclops let out a gasp of surprise. Knowing exactly what Sofia was experiencing, Mike moved down her body and kissed his way across her breast. He teased Sofia’s nipple with little sparks of magic.

When the kiss broke, Cecilia touched her own lips in surprise. “She is so soft and warm,” she muttered.

“Women can be that way,” said Mike with a grin. “You should try kissing other places.”

Cecilia licked her lips and moved down Sofia’s chest to mimic him. He slid back up to Sofia and kissed her lips again, her lips still chilled from contact with Cecilia.

“Her body feels like ice,”the cyclops admitted when their lips parted. “It feels really good in such a hot bath.”

“Really?” asked Cecilia, taking her mouth off of Sofia’s erect nipple to speak.

The cyclops blushed, then nodded. Mike and Cecilia exchanged mischievous glances and got to work. They took turns kissing their way up and down Sofia’s bountiful chest, occasionally pausing to lock lips with her and each other. The cyclops seemed nervous to touch them at first, but soon used that time to primarily explore Cecilia’s lithe body.

Over by the door, Cerberus’ heads took turns watching, their tail wagging with excitement despite their neutral expression.

Eventually, Mike and Cecilia alternated fingering the cyclops while she moaned in the tub. Her legs were spread wide enough that they could easily fit between them, and even Mike was surprised at how cool Cecilia’s fingers felt while inside of Sofia.

“This is so much fun. I like baths” said the banshee. She then made a face. “I wish my clothes weren’t such a problem, though. I feel so heavy.”

Mike nodded, but said nothing. His magic danced along the surface of the water, charging the air and creating bubbles of light that hovered nearby. Sofia had reclined enough that her head was hanging over the edge of the tub, her gaze fixed on the ceiling.

“Do you think she’ll come soon?” Cecelia asked playfully.

“I’m right fucking here,” Sofia muttered, panting loudly.

Mike laughed, then turned his attention to Cecilia. “Not yet, my heart. She’s wired differently. I think it has something to do with only having one eye.”

“Hey,” Sofia protested, then groaned as Cecilia managed to squeeze an entire fist inside of her vagina. The banshee giggled and pistoned her arm gently. The water had taken on a strange, lubricating quality from Mike’s magic without causing them to slip around inside of the tub

“You see,” Mike continued, playfully teasing Sofia’s breasts. “The main thing that gets her off is when somebody else uses her however they see fit. Maybe a little light degradation, such as talking about her as if she weren’t in the room, or maybe just below your attention.”

“Don’t be rude,” Sofia complained, but she was breathing harder than ever.

“I think I see.” Cecilia smiled and slowly pulled her fist out of Sofia. The cyclops’ legs quivered briefly, but she didn’t come. “We’ve been doing this the way you and I would, but not quite the way she would.”

He nodded. “I agree,” he said. “But you often have to pour in a lot of love before you add the spice. That’s a cooking metaphor.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Sofia muttered, her hand sinking below the water to fondle herself.

“Ah, it seems like she’s ready to play,” said Mike. “What do you think we should do with her?”

“I have an idea.” Cecilia squirmed along Sofia’s body until they were eye level with each other. “I really like how you kiss,” she said.

“S…same,” Sofia replied breathlessly .

The banshee’s grin became malicious. “So now you can eat my pussy.”

The cyclop’s eye went wide as Cecilia pulled up her skirt and slid her legs over the edge of the tub so that her weight was entirely on Sofia’s face. The banshee pulled her panties to the side and lowered herself onto the cyclop’s lips.

“Three slaps on the edge of the tub if you aren’t getting enough air,” said Mike as Sofia’s head disappeared beneath wet fabric. “Hold up three fingers if you understand.”

Sofia briefly held up three fingers, then dropped two so that she was flipping him off. Mike laughed and grabbed her hand to bite the offending digit. This caused Sofia’s whole body to jerk, but until she performed the safety slap, her body was his playground.

“Push your tits together,” he commanded, and Sofia obeyed. His cock slid between them as he fucked her chest. Cecilia groaned as she rode Sofia’s face, letting out tiny growls that he had never really heard from her before.

“Her tongue is so long,” she said. “I can feel her moaning inside of me!”

Occasionally, Sofia tried to drop her hand to play with herself, but Mike would slap her breast until she brought it back up. Now and again, she would grab Cecilia’s skirt and lift it to catch her breath, then resume eating out the banshee. When Cecilia came, her whole body became transparent and the water that had soaked into her clothing fell immediately onto Sofia’s face and the edge of the tub. Sofia sputtered as she shook her head to dry her face, then sat up and stared passionately at Mike.

“Fuck me,” she said.

“Beg.”

“Please fuck me.”

Mike laughed and pinched her nipples. “I said beg, not ask politely. Do you think this is a Denny’s?”

Sofia whimpered quietly for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I want you to fuck me now,” she said. “Use me. Pump me full of your cum. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything, huh?” He looked past her to where Cecilia reappeared, the now-dry banshee grinning. Mike turned his attention back to Sofia. “Come here and suck my cock. If you do a good job, I’ll—” He nearly fell over as the cyclops sat up and inhaled his stiff member. Her lips went straight to his belly as she moaned around him. “Consider it,” he finished, then pointed at the cyclop’s discarded breast wrap.

Cecilia nodded, then picked it up and brought it over. Mike grabbed a handful of Sofia’s hair and examined the tub, trying to think of the best way to use it. Once he decided, he pulled himself free.

“Bend over the edge,” he said. When she rotated a bunch of water from the bath had already splashed onto the floor, leaving Sofia’s hips above the waterline as she obeyed. He took the wrap from Cecilia and immediately got to work tying up Sofia’s wrist.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Whatever I want,” he said. “My hands are busy. Cecilia, slap her ass for me.”

She giggled and obeyed. Sofia yelped with pleasure, then wiggled her hips from side to side in an attempt to rub herself against Mike’s cock.

“Not yet,” he said, leaning back to tease her as he finished wrapping the makeshift rope into a column tie, a type of knot perfect for safe restraint. Though Eulalie had no interest in sex, she was extremely fascinated with shibari and had been happy to share her secrets with him. Satisfied that the fabric wouldn’t slip, he handed it back to Cecilia. “Her arms will go over the front. Take this and run it under the tub and back up on the other side.”

It took them several minutes, but Sofia ended up strapped to the bathtub, her arms on the outside and the wrap criss-crossed beneath in a manner that held her thighs apart as well. She wiggled back and forth, unable to free herself while Mike slapped the head of his cock against her ass.

“Are we nice and tight?” he asked. Sofia mumbled something, her pussy now leaking fluid down her inner thighs. “I can’t hear you!”

“I’ve been really good!” she almost shouted, her back arching as she tried to move closer to him.

“Yeah, yeah.” He pressed the head of his cock between her labia, but held still when she tried to back into him. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He gestured for Cecilia, and the banshee gladly grabbed Sofia’s ponytail and moved it to where he could grab it.

He pulled hard, causing her head to lift up as he slid inside of her. The cyclops let out a high-pitched wail as he fucked her from behind, his magic now dancing across her back. Cecilia got underneath the water. Not needing any air, she took turns sucking on Sofia’s clit and licking Mike’s shaft.

Over by the door, Cerberus was openly squirming. MIke and the others had been enjoying themselves for almost an hour now, and the room was now full of steam and hissing magic that leapt across the room.

When the cyclops came, she hugged the tub so hard that the metal sides bent under the pressure. Mike pulled her hair with one hand and clung to her hips with the other to keep from being bucked off. His own orgasm had been long boiling inside of him, and just as Sofia was reduced to a limp mess, he unleashed a load of his own.

The magic in the room all shot toward him, and the water vapor froze in place, turning into tiny snowflakes that fell across them as he pumped Sofia full of his hot seed. She cried out, her pussy overflowing with semen as he continued to fill her. The magic, not ready to be done, crawled across Mike and demanded to know what he wanted of it.

“Come,” he said, and the magic obeyed. There was a loud pop as it leapt through his body and filled Sofia’s womb. Her whole body flexed against her bonds as the magic went to work, swirling inside of her and amping up her pleasure until she let out another scream. The air took on a heavy feel and Mike’s ears started ringing.

Cecilia started twitching and squirmed along the bottom of the tub, her whole body quaking as she came as well. By the door, Cerberus had fallen on all fours, howling in pleasure with their ass in the air.

Oops, Mike thought as the magic completed a circuit of the room and set sights on him. His eyes rolled up in his head as his groin tightened up and he came inside of the cyclops again, the water in the bathtub exploding. Flowing lights, like the Aurora Borealis, filled the room and connected them all together. For a moment, Mike’s nose was filled with the scent of old parchment, and then his mind became a void of white with distant, sparkling lights that reminded him of stars. He could feel demons being crushed between his jaws and burning for all eternity in the flames of his belly. A chorus of voices filled his ears, and he lost his balance and slipped.

When he woke up, he was lying on his back beneath Sofia, her body still quaking from the aftershocks. The water was completely gone. Lying nearby, Cecilia was spasming as tiny purple lights danced along her skin. The red streak in her hair had doubled in size.

“Is…everyone okay?” he asked.

Cecilia chuckled and went still, closing her eyes to savor the moment. “I think Sofia passed out,” she said.

“What happened?”

“Something we should definitely try again.” Cecilia crawled on top of him and opened her eyes. She kissed him on the mouth. “We should untie her.”

“Yeah.” Mike said and stumbled out of the bath, sliding over the edge like a serpent to lie on the floor until his legs stopped shaking. Cerberus had backed against the door, their body acting as a wedge. On the other side, someone was pounding.

“Are ye all good in there?” asked Sulyvahn. “Ye did some strange magic out here.”

“We’re fine,” Cecilia said.

“What do you mean by strange magic?” asked Mike.

There was a long silence, followed by a cough. “If’n I wasn’t of the Fae, I’d need a new outfit. It took me a few minutes to find me head and come check on ye. And I mean that literally.”

Cecilia laughed as she helped Mike to his feet. “Your magic got him, too,” she said.

“Unintentional,” Mike muttered as he looked over at Sofia. She was, making happy noises in her sleep. “But very worth it.”

“I agree.” Cecilia shook her head. “Shall we help our friend out of the tub?”

“Yeah.” They untied her together, then realized neither were strong enough to lift her out. Instead, they grabbed a couple of towels and began to wash her off properly. Cerberus had regained their composure by then and came over to help. By the time they were almost finished, Sofia’s eyelid fluttered and she opened her eye to see them all caring for her.

Tears welled up in the corners of her eye. She smiled and let them help her out of the hot tub. They wrapped themselves in towels and went to the bedroom where they all collapsed on the bed just to snuggle for a bit. Very little was said as they quietly held each other.

By the time Lady Charlotte came for him, Mike was dressed and ready for her, his mood vastly improved. When the door of the tower opened, Charlotte stepped inside and cocked her head.

“You seem different,” she said. “Why is that?”

“You have your secrets,” he said. “I have mine.”

Charlotte nodded. “I was hoping we could speak some more about your new place amongst the villagers and perhaps plan for the future. Are you mentally prepared to hear more?” Her hand was a blur on the chalkboard. When she finished writing, Mike frowned at the message.

Say nothing of importance, it said. My ears are V’s ears

“I think I’m ready to listen,” he said, nodding in understanding.

“Excellent. Then allow me to begin.” She wrote another message as she spoke, her voice raised to cover the sound of chalk on slate. He stared at the words as they appeared.

You need to know the truth. Will you come see it with me once I leave?

Mike exchanged concerned looks with the others, then nodded in Charlotte’s direction. The woman looked almost relieved, put the slate away and continued the conversation. After nearly an hour-long sales pitch about the many benefits of living in Avalon, Mike informed her that he had plenty of things to think about and would like to speak with her again on the matter tomorrow. The whole conversation was clearly a ruse to account for her time

She agreed, then walked with him to the tower door and bid him farewell, all while motioning for him to follow. She crossed the bridge with him following in lockstep, then took inside the castle proper. Within thirty feet of the entryway, she touched a stone on the wall and opened a secret passageway. Raising an eyebrow in his direction, she stepped inside.

Ready for anything, the Caretaker followed.

---

Though Callisto Radley was only a few human years old, centaurs grew to maturity far faster than humans did. Some of his friends were considered adults at three years of age, while others may take another year or two before they had reached maturity.

His human heritage meant it was highly likely he would age slower than the others, which gave him mixed feelings. It was slightly unsettling to watch the other children outgrow him so quickly, but he took comfort in the fact that chronological age was just a function of time. Becoming older was hardly worthy of being an accomplishment, unless one was raised in a dangerous biome or war torn society. Since his tribe was neither, he ignored the occasional belittlement that came his way for it.

However, his father had promised he could go out and participate in a human custom called Halloween this year. Both the intellectual and emotional side of Callisto were in agreement that it was highly unlikely he would derive nearly as much joy from it the following year as the human equivalent of a teen. If he was truly unlucky, he would be a tween instead. He wasn’t entirely certain what the true delineation between tween and teen was, but the addition of a whimsical “w” made him think this was a state of affairs to be avoided at all costs if possible.

Standing near the cusp of early adulthood, every fiber in his being wanted to open the matter of Halloween for debate with his mother, Beth, or anybody that would listen. However, when he was told that the house was temporarily off-limits, the part of him that yearned for youthful exploration knew right away that it was time to lean on his own intellect to solve the problem.

Casual questions about the family’s current circumstances had revealed that they were not currently under attack, nor was there an army of men and women parked on their front lawn again. This action seemed to be made out of abundance of caution and had to do with an agreement his father had made with the Fae. Seeing as his father was currently trapped in a castle in another dimension and in the middle of a bargain with the Fae Courts involving a place called Avalon, Callisto truly believed that he was a third party that had fallen victim to circumstances outside of his control involving an overabundance of caution.

He made a cursory display of whining that would be considered typical for his age at the revelation that he was not going to participate in the holiday, then let it go. Aunt Lily had taught him that the best way to get what he wanted sometimes was to pretend he didn’t want it at all until he could take it for himself. It was this method that suited him best as he woke up on the final day of the month and set about his chores.

Fooling his mother had required an elaborate system of lies that he had begun constructing two weeks ago. He had introduced the other children of the village to something called a Snipe Hunt, a rite of passage for humans that required them to hunt an ever elusive imaginary creature for the purpose of laughing at them when they finally gave up. This seemed both silly and cruel, but his mother had been more than happy to acquiesce to his demands in lieu of Halloween itself.

He had even convinced the children of the village to dress in costumes. As he was the one contriving the mythology of the snipe itself, it had been easy enough to convince the others that snipes could easily recognize humans or centaurs from a distance.

There were almost twenty of them, freshly fed and ready to wander into a section of the woods designated safe from any major dangers. Honestly, the most dangerous thing the centaurs may run across was the mandragora, and the plant had been trimmed away from this section of the woods to avoid eating the livestock they kept there. An entire herd of deer had been imported here, and were culled regularly in order to keep their numbers at a sustainable level.

While the other kids were busy wandering into the woods with makeshift pillow cases in their hands in order to capture an ever elusive beast, Callisto ran up a series of paths he had scouted last week to get to the entrance to the greenhouse unseen. His plan was to Trick or Treat for no more than one hour, which would allow him to return to the snipe hunt with nobody the wiser for it.

At the entrance to the greenhouse, a trio of guards stood nearby. They were firmly of the belief that the Fae couldn’t trespass through the greenhouse doors, but wanted to keep the entrance monitored just in case. Callisto trotted between them and stopped for a moment.

“Aunt Yuki needs me for something,” he said.

The guard closest to him frowned. “Aren’t you doing some event with the other kids tonight?” he asked.

“I am,” said Callisto. “But Grace is upset about not participating and I’m trying to be a good brother.”

The guard contemplated Callisto’s words. “Why couldn’t she participate?” he asked.

“As you’re likely aware, the snipe itself is a red herring and simply does not exist. My sister has a very high prey drive. We try to discourage any activity that may result in her actively pursuing any type of higher thinking creature, and there exists the possibility that she may decide to pursue one of our own out of frustration.”

The guards exchanged looks and nodded. This was a very sound argument and there was no reason to suspect duplicity on Callisto’s part.

“Do you need an escort?” asked the guard.

“Aunt Yuki is expecting me,” said Callisto. “And Aunt Abella will be watching.”

The trickiest part of the plan hinged on the guards ignoring the fact that if he was truly needed at the house, the rats could open a portal. The trio conferred for a moment, and then moved to the door.

“We’ll just take a quick peek out there first, if you don’t mind.” The guard smiled at Callisto as the other two moved outside for a moment to look around. They returned moments later and signaled that the coast was clear.

“Thank you,” said Callisto, then walked out the door and made sure to shut it behind him. He waited several heartbeats to see if Aunt Abella came to greet him, then held back a sigh when she didn’t. The first thing he did was move stealthily back behind the greenhouse toward the outer wall. Once he was convinced that he wouldn’t be seen, he reached into his pack and pulled out a slap bracelet along with a sheet with two holes cut in it for eyes.

If he had made more than a cursory show of being upset by his mother’s decision to keep him from trick-or-treating, she would have confiscated his bracelet. Trying to steal it back would have been very difficult indeed, and he quietly maneuvered it over his wrist to avoid the characteristic snap that would likely alert Abella to his presence. Kneeling down, he slid his bare feet into a pair of tennis shoes that he kept for this occasion.

From here, all he had to do was move to where he could see the front door and wait. The Radley home was extremely popular during Halloween, and people would wander up to the door eventually. They hadn’t bothered with a gate of any kind. Anyone who wanted in would simply blow through it, and the Fae who were allowed on the property would be offended to think they couldn’t come and go as they please.

Fae politics. Callisto narrowed his eyes in disgust. He realized his general discontent with them was little more than collateral damage from their dealings with his father. He didn’t understand why intelligent entities couldn’t just let things be.

A large group of kids walked up to the front door of the house where a massive bucket of candy had been set out for them. As they shouted and made plenty of noise, Callisto moved along the outer wall, knowing that his silent footsteps would be hard to discern from the collective cacophony of excitable children. He casually wandered into the front yard and joined the group as they were leaving. It was likely he would return in much the same manner that he had left.

Sensing safety in numbers, he stuck with the kids in his group and walked to the next house over. A peculiar sense of freedom and excitement filled his chest. He had never been out in the real world without an escort. Now this was a proper adventure.

At the next home, he watched as one of the children rang the bell and the group collectively held up their bags in anticipation of sugary delights. Callisto held up his snipe hunting sack and stood near the back.

“Trick or treat!” he shouted with the others as the door opened. The adult male standing there was wearing red horns and a devil’s tail, and looked rather garish in Callisto’s opinion.

As was the custom, the adult greeted the children and made positive comments about the various costumes. When the man got to Callisto, he chuckled to himself and held out the bowl.

“A ghost, huh? Always a classic.”

Callisto deftly snatched a few pieces of candy and moved quickly to keep up with the others. Smiling to himself that his grand charade had gone off without a hitch, he was near the edge of the property when a powerful hand grabbed him from the bushes and silently held him in place.

He didn’t scream. Doing so would only endanger the other children. He did, however, pull a skinning blade and took a swing at his assailant. His wrist was casually caught in a grip of iron, and he locked eyes with his little sister, who stood hidden in the bushes. She was wearing a backpack which had folded itself up to peek over her shoulder with a pair of button holes, as if watching him.

“Bad,” she said, once they made eye contact.

Callisto let out a sigh of relief and put the knife away. “What are you doing out here?” he asked.

She shook her head in clear disappointment, then pointed in the direction of the house.

“Home,” she said.

“I think not,” Callisto replied. “I didn’t work this hard just for a few measly pieces of candy.”

“Home,” she repeated.

“No.” Now he crossed his arms. “Father couldn’t bring us on this outing, so I took it upon myself. I will not allow those acting in bad faith to disrupt a potentially formative moment for me.”

“Home?” she asked, now partially convinced.

“Ten houses,” he said. “I wish to partake of this custom for ten more houses that answer their door.”

“Eight,” she replied. She always picked that number.

“Fine, eight,” he said. “But now that I know you’re out, you should come with me. It wouldn't be wise to leave you unsupervised. Take this.” Callisto pulled the sheet off his head and tossed it over his sister. “Try to scrunch your body up,” he said. “So people don’t see your legs.”

The ghost in front of him shifted and morphed as his sister obeyed. Once he was satisfied that her arachnid morphology was sufficiently concealed, he gave her a thumbs up and picked up his sack.

“Did you have to bring Tick Tock?” he asked, trying to conceal his concern that the mimic would out them.

“Yes,” she replied. “For backup.”

“Don’t you have Pawpaw Cyrus for that?” he asked with a smirk.

“No man left behind,” she replied, then shifted inside her sheet and stuck out a hand to reveal the stuffed bear.

“You keep him inside Tick Tock?” he asked, offering a hand to lead his sister out of the bushes.

“Yes.” The Arachne shook her sheet, then withdrew the stuffed bear. “Pockets too small.”

Callisto chuckled. In terms of dueling morphologies, his sister was in an even worse state than he was. Others of her kind would long ago be an adult and actively hunting large mammals for sustenance. For whatever reason, her childhood was extended. He knew that it was partially due to having proper familial support, but had heard some of the grownups wonder aloud if her egg’s exposure to the Library had contributed somehow. The Arachne really were fascinating as a species, and Callisto thought it was a shame that they only existed on the brink of extinction.

When they got to the next house, it was just the two of them. He allowed her to ring the bell, and they both stood back and waited. When the door opened, it was to reveal a woman in a top hat.

“Trick or treat,” they both said.

“How cute,” the woman replied as she gave them candy. “I like your costume,” she said to Grace, then looked at Callisto. “I’m not sure what yours is, though.”

Callisto had been prepared for this potential eventuality. Perhaps he wouldn’t have been able to smuggle out the sheet, or maybe he lost it somehow. Taking a deep breath, he unleashed yet another level of deception. “I’m a Fortnite character,” he said, then did a dance move called The Floss. His Aunt Lala had showed him the game one night while visiting the Library. He wasn’t entirely certain about the intricacies of the game itself, but Aunt Lala had done this exact dance on top of the corpses of her enemies.

“Oh, right. I love it.” She waved goodbye to them and they turned back toward the street.

By the time they were out on the sidewalk, Callisto moved to stand under a streetlight and look in his bag. He pulled out a fun-sized Snickers bar. “Do you think we’ll get any full-sized bars tonight?” he asked.

Grace shrugged.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Feeding Tick Tock,” she replied.

“You don’t want your candy?” he asked.

His sister shrugged again.

“Well, at least wait until we can arrange a trade later. I would like to diversify my intake so as to experience the widest range of sugary delights.” This got Callisto thinking. “Do you think there’s a way to figure out which house may have full-sized bars? We agreed on seven more houses, but they don’t have to be in a row, and I wish to maximize the possibility of receiving one. The thrill of such a find is likely a capstone experience.”

Despite being beneath a sheet, he could feel his sister’s displeasure. To her credit, she didn’t argue and allowed him to lead her away. Callisto ran some mental calculations as they walked. Would a full-sized bar be more likely to come from a nicer home with wealthier occupants? Or would it come from the house with the most decorations.

The next time he found a group of children, he asked if they had any full-sized bars, and was thrilled when they told him that a house near the park had them. Smirking to himself with this newfound knowledge, he led Grace in that direction, which required that they once again walk past their own home.

“So how did you sneak out?” he asked.

“Quietly,” she replied.

“I guess so.” Callisto chuckled. “This is going to be our secret, right? Sneaking out for Halloween?”

“Maybe.”

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Don’t know yet.”

He sighed. “As long as your demands don’t somehow diminish the experience itself, I’ll happily acquiesce to them.”

“Always big words.”

“This is how us centaurs talk,” he said. “When it’s just us, anyways. I know Mom dumbs it down when she’s around Dad. She doesn’t want to seem pretentious.”

Grace pointed at herself through the sheet. “Not a centaur.”

“You’re an honorary centaur. You meet the minimum leg count for it.”

Grace whinnied like a horse, then snorted loudly.

“That’s racist,” Callisto muttered. “Only we can say stuff like that to each other.”

“Honorary centaur,” she countered.

“Fine,” he muttered. “But only when it’s you and me. I don’t want you offending someone.”

Grace held up a Tootsie Roll as a peace offering, which Callisto accepted. Though the candy itself had the consistency of wax and tasted only vaguely of chocolate, eating it while standing on the sidewalk with his sister immediately created a sense memory he felt he could lean upon in future times. He had eaten half of the Tootsie Roll and handed the rest back to his sister.

“You should try it,” he said. Grace just stared at him through her eye holes. “No, really. It’s kind of like a crayon you’re allowed to—”

She snatched it from him so fast that he only saw the fluttering of her sheet. Callisto laughed, then checked inside his bag. He had a couple of Tootsie Rolls inside. There was a good chance he could trade them for anything she had collected thus far, outside of whatever candy tax Tick Tock would extort from them for its silence.

On their way to the next house, Callisto couldn’t help but notice when his sister’s hand quickly dipped into a toddler’s orange bucket. Moments later, a Tootsie Roll candy wrapper fell to the ground and he stopped to pick it up.

“You shouldn’t litter,” he said. “It’s not only a misdemeanor crime, but is also unethical.”

Grace tilted her head to one side to consider this, then nodded. “Eat wrapper,” she replied.

“No, that’s not what I…” Callisto sighed. Being the older sibling was difficult at times. “Just don’t make yourself sick,” he advised.

They found the house that the earlier children had mentioned. Callisto waited at the curb as a group of kids walked up to the door and were greeted by a stereotypical witch who carried a plastic cauldron laden with full-sized candy bars. His eyes widened and he licked his lips in anticipation.

“This is it,” he proclaimed. “The pinnacle achievement of every child who has ever dared to beg strangers for candy.”

The two of them walked up to the door and Callisto rang the bell with trembling fingers. When the witch appeared, he struck a dramatic pose and declared “Trick or Treat!” with all his heart. The woman laughed, clearly inebriated, and leaned down to reveal that the cauldron was well stocked with candy the size of Callisto’s hand.

“Just take one,” she said to his sister with a smile, then looked up at Callisto. “What are you supposed to be?”

“I’m a Fortnite character,” he replied, then took a step back and performed The Floss for her.

“Ugh,” she replied. “My kids spent way too much time playing that game. It rots your brain.”

“I’m, uh, sorry,” Callisto replied. “I’m actually not allowed to play it at home. I just really liked the costume.” He licked his suddenly dry lips. “Can I still have a piece of candy?”

“What? Oh. Right.” She tilted the cauldron toward him and he froze, his hand hovering just above the opening. What had once been packed with candy was now completely empty. When she saw him freeze, she looked into the cauldron and frowned. “Wait, wasn’t this full a second ago?”

Callisto’s heart raced. Had he been seeing things? Or was this a heartless prank the woman had just performed? Did she really hate Fortnite that much?

“I’m really sorry, kid. I guess I’m out.” The witch frowned in his sister’s direction, but didn’t say anything. When she closed the door, the light turned off, leaving Callisto and his sister in the dark.

“What just happened?” he asked.

“Treat,” Grace replied, then pulled a full-sized Snickers bar out of her bag. Callisto gasped, then took it from her.

“Where did you put them all?” he whispered.

“Tick Tock.”

“Are there any left?” he asked. Sure, his sister had technically robbed him of the experience of acquiring the candy for himself, only to replace it with an unexpected, far superior experience: they had stolen an adult's entire supply. While he had been busy dancing like a fool, his sister had speedily emptied the entire cauldron.

“Maybe.” Grace walked away from him toward the sidewalk.

“What do you want for it?” he asked. It wasn’t so much that he desired the candy entirely for himself. Sure, he was still a child who yearned for sugar, but he was one of many in the tribe. In his wildest dreams, he had fantasized about taking his haul back to share with the others after their unsuccessful snipe hunt.

“Home,” she replied, then pointed in that direction.

“I…hmm.” They had only done a couple of houses. “Would you settle for going home but hitting the houses along the way?”

Grace held out a hand. “Tootsies,” she declared. Callisto gladly handed them over, and he heard the soft rustle of wax and paper being consumed under his sister’s sheet. They walked along the street and stopped at a few more houses. To further placate his sister, Callisto made sure to choose Tootsie Rolls over anything else provided.

The only additional hiccup came when they got to a house that provided each of them a small tin of Playdough. He was well familiar with the substance, but was unable to dissuade his sister from promptly lifting off the lid and devouring it, leaving bright blue crumbs along the sidewalk. Callisto tucked away his Playdough before his sister could snatch it away from him.

As they crossed the area by the park, a group of children caught up with them and they became integrated with the herd. It took a few seconds to realize that something was wrong, his first indication being that the ghoulish figures did not speak, nor were they carrying any bags of candy. The group pressed in, and a strong hand grabbed Callisto by the wrist.

“Don’t hurt them, Grace.” He rolled his eyes. “These are likely just bullies who intend to relieve us of our stash.” This was a tradition he was not eager to participate in.

“Bugs,” Grace replied, but otherwise remained silent. They were roughly guided into the park and behind a cluster of bushes where they would likely be told to hand everything over. Callisto debated his options. He was tempted to hand his bag to Grace and tell her to run. She would get away without a problem. But if he returned home scuffed up from fighting other children, there would be too many questions.

The cold air of the park took on an oppressive feel as a dark figure stepped out from the trees and steepled its hands together.

“Greetings, children. How are you this fine Samhain eve?”

“We are currently well,” Callisto replied. “And shall continue to be so should you let us leave unmolested.”

“Oh?” The figure stepped closer, and Callisto realized he was looking up at a man who appeared as if he’d been stitched together from the night sky itself. When he smiled, it was to reveal sharp teeth.

“Ah. You spoke of Samhain.” Callisto felt his heart fall. “You are of the Fae.”

“Indeed I am, child of Mike Radley.” The Fae chuckled. The sound made Callisto think of dead insects being blown across rocks by a stiff wind. The oddly specific mental imagery only further confirmed the danger he now found himself in.

The centaur chewed at his lip. His father had always told him never to speak to the Fae, yet he really didn’t have much of a choice. He looked at his sister with a frown and realized there was a good chance at least one of them wouldn’t be returning home. His analysis of the current situation between his father and the Fae Courts had been inadequate, likely fueled by his own childish desires.

In short, he had fucked up.

“I don’t suppose you would be amicable to releasing us?” he asked

The Fae chuckled and knelt down so that they were eye level. The creature reached out and caressed Callistos’ cheek, the sharp edge of its finger easily parting the flesh.

“All things are possible for a price, Callisto Radley.”

“You have injured me,” Callisto replied, narrowing his gaze. “Does this not violate the treaty your kind partake in?”

The Fae tsked at him. “That is an unintentional injury, child. Surely you cannot fault me for the way I was born.”

“I’m a centaur,” Callisto replied. “My hooves are capable of crushing a human’s toes if I’m not careful. It is reasonable that I should expect my elders to be aware of their own limitations and exercise caution of their own.”

“And I would point out that violations are a social construct. If there is no witness to such a thing, then did it really happen?” The Fae smiled, then laughed. The smell of the creature’s breath was enough to make Callisto sick to his stomach.

“I suppose we should open negotiations and discuss what it is that your kind want from us,” Callisto grumbled. Being taken by the SoS had been nobody’s fault. That had been the result of an unexpected loose end, one that had nearly cost members of his family their lives.

This, though, was entirely his own fault.

“We want your father,” the being replied.

“So it’s to be blackmail?” asked Callisto.

“Perhaps.” The Fae looked at one of the children nearby and grinned. Callisto followed his gaze and realized that the ghoulish looking thing was transforming and had partially taken on his own appearance.

“Changelings,” Callisto hissed. This thing meant to replace them with a member of its own. “Such a tactic won’t work.”

“We won’t know until we try,” said the Fae. It moved forward to touch Callisto again, then let out a grunt when Grace fired herself headfirst into him. The Fae flew across the clearing and slammed into a tree before sliding onto the ground.

Grace tossed away her costume and darted back and forth between the Changelings. They let out little gasps of air as she dismantled them, revealing the creatures to be made largely of mud and sticks. By the time the Fae got back to its feet, the Arachne had pulled two things out of her backpack. The first was Pawpaw Cyrus. The other was a magic wand. This she pointed at their attacker.

“Bad,” she declared, and a burst of fire erupted from the wand. The heat alone made Callisto think his eyebrows were melting, and he stepped away from the blast as it struck their assailant. The man simply laughed as the fire washed over him and winked out.

“I am a Prince of the Unseelie Court,” he declared as he brushed some mud off his body. He curled his fingers into hooks and the shadows on the ground rose up and clamped down on Callisto’s limbs, locking him in place. Similar shadows reached for Grace, but she casually leapt away from them. “There is no magic that man has conceived of that could possibly harm me.”

“Grace, run!” Callisto pulled at his bonds, which bit into his flesh. “Go home, get help!”

“If you leave, I’ll pull your brother apart like a piece of bread.” The Unseelie Prince crossed his arms. “There will be no evidence he was ever here.”

“Bad,” muttered the Arachne, and she lifted her arms over her head to drop both the wand and Pawpaw Cyrus into Tick Tock’s awaiting flaps. The backpack shifted and squeezed, as if rummaging through itself.

“That’s a good girl,” muttered the Unseelie as he stepped toward them. “You are quite the oddity. Perhaps I could find a use for you that—where did you get that book!?!”

Grace lowered the Grimoire in front of her face, her brow scrunched up as the pages flipped. The book glowed in her hands as she muttered something under her breath and a dome made of light fell on top of her and Callisto, severing the chains that held them in place.

“THAT BOOK,” the Fae yelled, his face twisting into something that struck terror into Callisto’s heart. “GIVE IT TO ME!”

“No.” Grace flipped through more pages as the Fae launched himself at the dome. The magic held up to the assault, the air sizzling on contact with the Fae.

The Unseelie swiftly regained his composure, his eyes now like stars going supernova. Callisto felt a malignant presence enter his mind, then let out a cry of alarm as the Fae took over his body and moved toward his sister.

Tick Tock undid its straps and threw itself at Callisto, tying up his limbs as he fell onto the ground. The presence in Callisto’s mind withdrew, and the Fae turned its attention toward Grace.

“I will have that book!” he declared, his eyes glowing. Grace’s eyes started glowing as well, and Callisto could see the bands of magic that now tied them together as the Fae tried to force its spirit into his sister’s body.

“Grace, don’t!” He wriggled back and forth. “Tick Tock, let me go!”

The Arachne took a step forward, her legs twitching as the Fae struggled to move her body. With so many legs and Grace’s resistance, the limbs became tangled with each other and the Arachne fell into a squat.

“Cursed child,” the Fae declared through Grace’s mouth.

Callisto watched in horror as Grace stepped outside of her body, her spirit now completely untethered. She moved to the side and contemplated her struggling form, then tilted the head of her body down until her eyes were now on the book itself. With a light touch on the Grimoire’s cover, the pages flipped once again and stopped on a page that emanated golden light.

The Unseelie Prince’s body let out a scream as beams of light erupted from inside behind his closed eyelids. His spirit transitioned back into his body as he reeled back and clutched at his own face. Grace’s soul snapped back into place, her dark eyes now studying whatever forbidden sight she had just exposed the Unseelie Prince to.

When his sister spoke, no audible sound came from her mouth. It was as if the entire world took a deep breath and held it, the moment stretched apart like putty until it thinned to the point of snapping. The stars in the sky blazed for just a second as if no longer blocked by the clouds or light pollution from the city, then flared out spectacularly. A tremendous pressure filled the air and Callisto’s ears popped as the Unseelie Prince screamed, a hideous warbling sound that was painful to hear. The Fae tried to stumble away, but his body had become flat like a piece of paper and he fell over. The paper folded in on itself over and over again until the Prince was three-dimensional again, only now the size of a mouse.

Grace snatched the Fae creature up as Tick Tock released its hold on Callisto. The backpack hopped over to Grace and opened its flaps. She stuck her hand inside and pulled out a metal canister that looked like an insulated thermos.

“Big bug,” she declared, then shoved the Fae Prince inside before closing the lid. Callisto briefly heard a sound similar to sizzling meat, and then the clearing went still as Grace tightened the lid, gave the thermos a good shake, and then tossed it back inside of Tick Tock, followed by the Grimoire.

“Grace,” Callisto whispered in horror. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”

The Arachne shrugged, then slung the bag over her shoulder and walked to where her sheet had fallen. “Self defense,” she said, then moved to Callisto's side and put a hand on his shoulder. “No man left behind.”

Stunned, he allowed his sister to lead him home, desperately wrestling with the ramifications of what had just transpired. Had they accidentally just started a war with the Fae? The Prince’s words kept running through his head, and he focused on one phrase in particular.

If there were no witnesses, did it really happen? Sure, the idea itself was a bit nonsensical, but the childish side of him saw the wisdom in those words. The only three witnesses were unlikely to let the Fae know what had transpired. If there had been any other witnesses, they would know soon enough.

When they finally returned home, Grace stopped beneath one of the lions and turned to face him. She held out her hand.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Playdough,” she replied. He happily handed it over. “And Tootsies.” Callisto gave those to her as well. Satisfied with their transaction, Grace took off Tick Tock and dumped a pile of candy on the ground, which Callisto scooped into his own bag.

They snuck back in together with another group of children who practically ran up the driveway. As Callisto moved into the shadows, he heard one of the kids exclaim in excitement “They’re giving out full-sized bars!”

The centaur’s left eyelid twitched in irritation, but he kept any exclamation of disgust to himself. He took the long route behind the Jabberwock, who wouldn’t react to his presence, and made it back to the greenhouse without a hitch. He took off his shoes and his snap bracelet, then stepped inside.

The guards drew weapons when he entered, then relaxed when they saw it was him.

“How’s your sister?” one of them asked.

“She is okay,” Callisto replied. “And if I’m being honest…quite scary.”

One of the guards laughed. “See? It’s not just me!” The other two just shook their heads and grinned as Callisto hurried past with his forbidden goods. If anybody asked, he would claim he brought them from the house. As he galloped back to where the others were conducting their snipe hunt, he thought back on the events of the evening. If not for his sister’s attempted interference, it would have been a complete disaster, possibly resulting in his own death and maybe even others.

He was the big brother. The responsibility for his family’s safety should be at his own hooves. But what could he even contribute compared to Grace? She was far stronger than he was, and could use magic already. What could he ever do that she couldn’t?

These doubts circled through his mind as he ran, setting roots that refused to budge. By the time he returned to the other children, a heavy sadness had settled in his chest. When it came time to hand out candy to the others, he didn’t bother keeping any for himself. He no longer had the stomach for it.