Show and Tell

Lady Charlotte moved quickly, her skirts rustling behind. Mike said nothing, perfectly aware that he needed to remain silent while in her presence. His desire for answers was far too strong to heed the warnings in the back of his mind. If danger came, he would rely on his magic.

The corridors were long, dim, and confusing. Odd scents came from the dusty hallway and a heavy chill settled into his bones. At one point, Charlotte made him wait while she checked on a room up ahead.  He made the mistake of leaning against the cold wall. It sapped away his body heat through the thin fabric of his shirt. When Lady Charlotte returned, she beckoned to him with a finger.

Mike stepped into a large sitting room with windows that overlooked the village. He went to look outside, but Charlotte held him back and pulled him through a doorway to her bedroom. Once they were inside, Charlotte turned to face him.

“We can speak freely here,” she said. “This is one of the few places where I have some expectation of privacy.”

“Why is that?” he asked.

“Privacy in my own room has been earned for good behavior over the years.” Lady Charlotte crossed toward the other side of the room to close the curtains. “I don’t want the gargoyles looking in and seeing you here.”

“Can’t they hear us?”

She shook her head. “These walls have been enchanted. Vincentius and his vassals require privacy of their own.” Lady Charlotte knelt by her bed and pulled something from beneath. It was a large trunk, and particularly heavy based on how the wood creaked.

“What are we doing here?” he asked.

“Talking first,” she said. “And then I will take you elsewhere to show you something.”

Mike was about to crack a joke, but thought better of it. “Am I in danger?” he asked.

“Not from me,” she replied, then considered her words. “Not currently,” she added.

“What about the other vassals?”

Charlotte shook her head. “My brother, perhaps. His moods can be…dark. I am uncertain of Galahad. The years have been long, and he is no longer the man he once was. I don’t know his motivations anymore.” She opened the chest and frowned. “My Lord and his daughters are the worst of the lot.”

“Why?”

She shook her head. “To speak much more about them may call attention upon me I do not want. If I have his attention, then my ears betray me even here.”

"So what can you tell me?" Mike leaned against the nearest wall, arms crossed over his chest. He swore when the icy chill bit through his clothes and stood away from it.

"I wish to share some pieces of the puzzle in the hopes that you will fully understand what you see later this day," she said. "For the same reasons I dare not speak certain names, I do not wish to call attention to this conversation. As far as anyone is concerned, I am speaking with a servant, and--" Lady Charlotte's left eye twitched, her lips parting as if in surprise. "I will need more blue paint for next week's portrait. Also, please arrange another lunch for Mike Radley and his guests for tomorrow. I mean to impress them, so bring some of those apple pastries from the village."

Lady's Charlotte sudden change in demeanor had Mike studying her soul in an instant. A dark, spectral tendril had come through the floor, wrapped around her throat like a collar, then split apart to encircle her ears. The woman scowled, holding up a finger to her lips for silence. Realizing that Vincentius was now listening, Mike moved to the bedroom door. He opened and closed it as if a servant was leaving. That dark tendril stayed connected to Charlotte for several minutes as she sat perfectly still. Eventually, it left.

"Message received," said Mike. "No vague references about anybody important."

"Now you understand," she said. "We can speak on some things, but others will be off limits."

“How can you tell that…” Mike gestured toward the floor, then pointed at his ears.

Charlotte stared at him, her lips thinning out. “It’s a dreadful feeling, really. Do you remember being a child? I barely do. But when I was little, sometimes I would stare into the shadows, convinced that something was watching me from the darkness. If I looked away, it would leap out and snatch me up. That feeling of dread that creeps up your neck and stops your heart is the same I feel when my senses have been…compromised.”

There were so many other questions he wanted to ask, but knew that now wasn't the time, not if they were directly about Vincentius. Along the corners of the room, he spotted that tendril of darkness, thinned out but waiting to reconnect at a moment's notice. "Those portraits around the castle. They're yours."

She nodded, then opened the trunk. Inside were several small canvases. She took them out wordlessly, setting them around the room. Each one was a portrait of a man or woman. Some of them held apples, others held farming implements. There were a few portraits of children as well, many of them captured in mid-smile.

"When I first came to this place, I struggled to find a purpose," she said. "You see, many years ago, I was...born human." She paused and waited. The dark tendril in the ceiling had actually withdrawn. If Mike was right about how the magical link between them worked, then Vincentius was likely occupied with something else. "I was also sick quite a bit, and took up painting as a means to occupy the time."

"I read about that in Edmund's journal," Mike said. "But remember there was a time when you seemed to be doing better."

Charlotte nodded, then sniffled. "My brother met a certain...benefactor who came up with a way to mitigate the worst of my illness. It was to be the beginning of the end, and we were spirited away to this place to begin our new life."

"Why you?" Mike asked.

Charlotte laughed. It was a dry sound, more of a sudden exhalation. "Somebody believed we were the lost descendants of a very noble lineage. My brother was given whatever he wanted in order to lure us here. One of us would be fine, but two? Even better. This benefactor provided me with treatments for my illness, but then they mysteriously failed after several months. We were forced to come here to pursue a more direct…cure."

"You came through the mirror?" asked Mike.

"Our benefactor had a secret castle in Ireland," she explained. "The people there worshipped him, but not as a God. No, he was very clear about that. This fortress was designed to protect the mirror. If it were to somehow be shattered, then our connection to the world would be lost.”

“I see.” Mike kept an eye on that thin tendril of magic. Clearly Charlotte wasn’t being specific enough to capture Vincentius’ attention.

“After coming to this place, I took up painting. Each of these pictures is of someone who lived here.” She picked up the closest painting and smiled. “These images are all that remains of them.”

“They died?”

Charlotte nodded, then set the picture down. “I can’t remember them. The older ones, anyway. The human mind was never meant to persist for this long.”

“So you aren’t human anymore?”

Lady Charlotte shivered and bit her lip. “I’m not,” she admitted. “But I never became more, either.”

“What’s that supposed to—” Mike zipped his lips when he saw that tendril snake down and wrap around Charlotte once more. This time, she turned her head toward the wall as if listening to something.

“I will be ready,” she said, and then the tendril withdrew and sank through the stone. Charlotte looked back at Mike. “We must hurry. The others are busy, and what I wish to show you can only be safely seen from the shadows. Come.” Charlotte rose and took Mike by the hand. He couldn’t help but notice that her fingers were cold to the touch. It reminded him of Dana.

Lady Charlotte led him into yet another secret passageway. He was convinced that this castle had more of them than normal corridors. The two of them walked in silence, and he watched as that dark thread snapped back into place around Charlotte’s body. It pulsated every few seconds, like a slowly beating heart.

They had to wait several times, but for what, Mike could only guess. Lady Charlotte had him sneak through someone’s bedroom to another set of secret corridors, then they scaled an ancient wooden ladder to crouch through a shallow tunnel. The lights were out. Lady Charlotte could navigate in the dark, but Mike was worried he may bump his head or even trip, so summoned a pair of lightning spiders to light the way.

The corridor grew taller, but itte also began to constrict. Charlotte turned to face him, her slate in one hand. She had written Almost There on it, along with a picture of a skull. She tapped the skull, then pointed to her lips and made a gesture for silence.

Message received, Mike thought to himself. The tunnel was now so narrow that they had to turn sideways and scoot down its length. It was hard for him to imagine that this secret passageway had any real use for servants. Perhaps it was some sort of service tunnel?

With minimal light, he did his best to stay close to Charlotte. On occasion, his hands would brush against hers, or against the hem of her skirt. Eventually, Charlotte reached out for his wrist and gave it a squeeze. He waited as she wrote something on her slate, then handed it to him. Conjuring some light into his hands, he looked at the slate. Her print still seemed eloquent, despite doing so in a cramped space without looking.

She had written Don’t make a sound and underlined it several times. When he looked to her for an explanation, she pointed at the wall in front of them. A small wooden latch had been affixed there. She slid it open, revealing a tiny pinhole of light. Mike looked through it to see the dining room where they had met Vincentius.

Charlotte took the slate and wrote Wait here, watch. Mike nodded and gave her a thumbs up. Satisfied that she had gotten her message across, she then pointed at herself and back the way they had come. Realizing she needed to get past him, Mike flattened his back to the wall in order to make room.

Lady Charlotte attempted to squeeze past him, but it was a tight fit. Pressed up against his body, he was suddenly aware of her breasts pushing into his ribs. Lady Charlotte let out a small gasp, and his magic roared to life.

What the hell? He summoned a bit of light into his fingertips to see what was going on and caught sight of Charlotte staring up into his eyes, her lips parted and cheeks flushed. Arousal was seeping off her in waves, and he couldn’t quite understand why.

When she tried to move again, he realized that the tightness of the space meant that their hips were pushed together. His cock was already rising to the occasion, and was now firmly lodged between her upper thighs, despite the fabric of her skirts.

Charlotte whimpered. Mike wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He let go of the light in his hands and grabbed her by the waist to pull the two of them even closer together in the hopes that she could suddenly squeeze by. This caused their unexpected contact to increase, and the smell of her arousal flooded his nostrils.

Wait, what? There was absolutely no way he should be able to smell that, especially not through the thick fabric of her skirt. Lady Charlotte whimpered in his arms as he now twisted his body, trying to allow her just enough room to wiggle past. Despite doing so, she froze again.

Troubled, he summoned another lightning spider and had it sit on the wall above him. The illumination revealed Charlotte’s face, her eyes closed as she bit her lip so hard that it bled. She shuddered with desire in place for several seconds, then opened her eyes and just stared at him hungrily. With great hesitation, she let him go, her skirts swishing against the stone walls as she disappeared into darkness. The smell of her arousal was even greater now, but she was gone.

Fucking weird, he thought, then went over to the secret viewing hole. He felt like a shitty Scooby Doo villain as he opened the latch and placed his face against the wall. Were his eyes currently in a painting? He tried to remember what the room had looked like. He had been too focused on the vassals to pay attention to the decorations.

Charlotte’s musk didn’t linger long, but it was weird that he could still smell it. What type of creature was she? The list wasn’t terribly long and he knew better than to make assumptions. Staring through the hole in the wall, he wondered how much longer he would have to wait for something to happen.

An hour passed, or at least it felt like one. Mike stifled a yawn. Whatever surveillance Charlotte had tasked him with was already incredibly boring. His mind kept wandering to thoughts of the house, and what he had missed. He thought about how he was going to make up for missing Halloween to his son. The young centaur was a clever negotiator, so he’d have to go into this discussion with options he was willing to pursue.

A door outside his range of vision clicked open, and a servant walked in. The man was carrying a massive tablecloth, which he spread across the table. Mike almost groaned in frustration when the servant left shortly after and he continued to watch nothing happen for at least another fifteen minutes.

When the door opened again, it was Lady Charlotte. She crossed the room with her head down and her hands clasped in front of her waist. Upon sitting at the table, she stared straight ahead.

There was no fanfare from the servants this time as the other vassals arrived. The false Amymone came first, smirking at Charlotte for reasons Mike couldn’t fathom. Gerard was next, the man sulking as he sat across from his sister. When the false Cecilia arrived, she made a show of sniffing the air, then looked down at Charlotte.

“You smell like a whore,” she declared. A small hint of blush crept along Charlotte’s cheeks, but she didn’t acknowledge the comment. The blonde sneered at Charlotte a moment longer, then let out an exasperated sigh as she flopped down into one of the seats.

“You shouldn’t talk to her like that,” muttered Gerard.

Cecilia smirked and leaned back in her seat, her demure facade officially crumbled. “Or what? Are you gonna brood? Go cry in your journal, book boy.” She put her hands behind her head. “Where is Galahad? I’m fucking starving.”

“He is on his way,” said Amymone. Her jaw made a strange clicking sound when she spoke. “I saw them enter not long ago, which means the sword room comes first. I wish it wasn’t on the other side of the castle. But we should talk about more important things, like why Charlotte smells like a woman in heat.”

“I shouldn’t have to listen to this,” muttered Gerard, and he stood from his seat.

“But you will,” said Cecilia. “SIT.”

Gerard’s ass slammed into the chair so hard that it cracked apart and he fell over. Both Cecilia and Amymone cackled for a moment before turning their vitriol back to Charlotte.

“There is no shame in being aroused,” said Charlotte as she lifted her chin in an attempt to seem above their bullying. “It’s a natural state, after all.”

“Did you finally let one of the villagers fuck you?” asked Cecilia. “It’s about time. You’ve had a stick up your ass for decades now.”

“I have not sullied myself, Victoria.” Charlotte muttered. “You know very well that Father would be very upset with me if I had.”

Victoria? Father? Whatever charade was being played clearly had no use in private. Mike wondered if Charlotte had used Victoria’s name on purpose for his benefit.

“Yeah, well you smell like you sullied yourself.” Victoria grinned. “What do you think, Decima? Should we smell her fingers?”

The false Amymone chuckled, her jaw making that hideous clacking sound again. Mike couldn’t see her face, but had no doubts that it would be unsettling when he finally got a glance.

“I can hold her down if you want,” said Decima.

“Enough.” Gerard slammed a fist on the table. “Leave her alone.”

“Or what? You’ll write some very mean poetry about us?” Victoria stood. “No, really. What will you do, Gerard? Will you fight us? Fight me, maybe? I’ve been itching for a reason to tear your arms off and stuff them down your throat until you—”

“That will be enough,” muttered Vincentius. Mike hadn’t even seen him come in. It was as if the man had teleported into the room. He waved his hand at Victoria, and she sat down as if shoved. “You’ll feel better once you’ve eaten.”

“That’s what you always say,” huffed Victoria. “We’ve been living on scraps for so long now, I’ve forgotten what being full feels like.”

“Then you should feel blessed that Charlotte here refuses to partake.” Vincentius moved behind Victoria and put a hand on her shoulder. “Go ahead. Thank her.”

Victoria remained silent for several seconds, then scowled. “Thank you, Lady Charlotte.”

“I am no lady,” Charlotte replied. “And I will not eat.”

“You will eventually.” Vincentius sat down in his seat. Mike was now looking at the back of the man’s head. “The hunger will consume you, driving you mad. When you finally do feed, the circumstances will dictate your final transformation. If you wait much longer, you may end up little more than a mindless wretch. Or perhaps your hunger will evolve your body, like Decima.”

“You really should eat,” added Gerard. “You’ll feel better if you do.”

Charlotte glared at her brother. “You of all people should know why this is impossible.”

Mike waited for some sort of rebuttal from Gerard, but the man just scoffed to himself and stared quietly into his lap like a petulant child. Victoria and Decima continued to snipe at Charlotte until Vincentius commanded them to be quiet. The group sat in silence for several minutes before Galahad walked in. Behind him was a man with a beatific smile wearing white, decorative robes.

“Caretaker,” he whispered breathlessly, then knelt on the floor. “The honor is all mine.”

“Relax, child.” Vincentius’ voice was low and smooth as he gestured for the man to come join them at the table. “Today, you are one of us. Tomorrow, you will be in paradise.”

The man burst into tears of joy as he walked up to the table. “I’ve been dreaming of this day for most of my life,” he said. “I can’t wait to see my wife again. It’s been too long. When I heard Lady Cecilia singing for me this morning, I almost left without telling my children and grandchildren goodbye.”

“Yes, yes.” Vincentius spoke kindly, but even Mike could hear the hunger in his voice. He turned his attention to Galahad, who was busy staring at his feet. “Did you take him to the old throne room?”

Galahad nodded. “The sword remains in the stone.”

“Then we shall delay no longer.” Vincentius stood, and then vanished to re-appear the next moment behind the newcomer. Startled by the sudden change the man turned around to face Vincentius.

“So what happens—” The man went silent, frozen in place by Vincenius’ mesmerizing eyes. The vampyr grinned, revealing a wicked set of canines just before sinking them into the man’s neck.

There were no screams, or even groans. The man twitched in place as Vincentius fed on him. Mike watched in horror as the man began to visibly age. His skin sagged and became dark in places while his eyes sunk into his head. Even the man’s soul withered as parts of it were consumed by Vincentius, gobbled up and absorbed into his own dark presence.

When Vincentius released the man, Galahad caught him. Vincentius dabbed a spot of blood off his lips and turned toward Charlotte. “If you are hungry, now is the time.”

“His name was Matthew.” Charlotte’s eyes shimmered. “When he was five, he fell out of a tree and broke his arm. He learned how to read when he was eight. When he was ten, he—”

“Enough. You need to learn to see them for what they are. Cattle.”

“They’re my children.” Charlotte’s lips quivered. “I raised each and every one of them. How could I see them as anything but? What sort of mother eats her own children?”

Vincentius shook his head in disappointment. Nearby, Galahad and Gerard were holding Matthew up, each of his wrists in their mouths as they slurped greedily. Victoria stood behind him, her fangs embedded in his neck. Decima sat nearby, her finger tapping impatiently on the table.

“You had so much potential.” Vincentius crossed his arms and watched the others. “One day, you will break. You will feed. The first feeding determines what kind of vampyr you become, Lady Charlotte.” The man practically spat out her name. “When that happens, you will be desperate. Hostile. Angry. After you eat, you shall become little more than a mindless monster, perfectly happy with feeding on your so-called children.”

“Maybe you should kill me and be done with it, then.” Charlotte glared up at Vincentius. “If I’m such a failure, then why not let me go?”

“If it were an option, I would.” The man shook his head. “Our numbers are small and I will eventually need your strength. We went into hiding for a reason. One day, either we will return to the world or the world will find us. When that happens, I need each and every one of you ready to assist in whatever way possible.”

“Or to shield you from harm.” Charlotte scowled. “You fear that woman still, don’t you? Her and her monster.”

The lights in the room dimmed. One moment, Vincentius stood by Charlotte. The next, his hand was around her throat, squeezing tight enough that Charlotte’s eyes bugged out of her head.

“Never speak of them.” The man’s voice was like a whisper, yet somehow reached Mike behind a wall of stone. “I tolerate many things from you, but only because I gave my word to care for you like my own child.”

“So maybe…you do…understand…why I won’t…eat…” Charlotte gasped for air, and Vincentius let her go.

“Maybe we could feed her Mike?” Decima leaned forward with interest. “She didn’t raise him, or any of the people he brought.”

“I have bigger plans for that man. As you all know, the stock have become weak. We’ve done our best to prevent in-breeding, but having fresh blood enter the herd is always for the best. I imagine his children would be strong, like him. Perhaps I’ll offer him a place of privilege, allowing him to breed with whatever women he chooses.” Vincentius glared at Decima. “Nobody here is to harm him without my permission.”

“My lord.” Galahad paused in his feeding. “Would that not be hypocritical to what you spoke of earlier? Regarding marriage?”

Vincentius nodded. “It would. Fortunately, God forgives those who ask for it, and our need is quite great. I would see our stock renewed. And could you feel his magic? To feed on his offspring would be like eating ten of these…peasants.” He gestured at Matthew. The man had been thoroughly drained of blood, his soul now a dim light that barely flickered. Realizing how far gone their meal was, Vincentius held up a hand. “Stop.”

The others obeyed and stepped back, although Victoria continued to hold the man up by his shoulders. Without another word, she picked him up and flipped him over, dangled him upside down by his thighs. The man’s robes only had a few drops of blood on them, but he was otherwise clean.

“Give him another few seconds,” she said. “We want him nice and juicy, just the way you like them.”

Her fingers twitching with need, Decima stood and moved toward the table. Victoria eventually laid Matthew on the table and took a step back as Decima knelt at the man’s head. Mike could now properly see the woman’s face without its glamour and nearly recoiled in horror. Her lower jaw had a split in the middle and had spread apart, her large tongue licking at the air. She unhinged her double jaw like a snake and opened her mouth wide, casually fitting Matthew’s entire skull inside.

The man let out one last, pitiable wail. Decima’s mouth snapped shut, severing the head at the neck. Her throat bulged as she swallowed the man’s head. Gerard moved quickly, licking around the dead man’s neck for any blood that had spilled. Charlotte wept silently, refusing to watch the macabre event any longer.

“Oh, how far we have fallen.” Vincentius paced the room as the others continued to feed. Galahad now held a piece of Matthew’s robe and was greedily sucking the bloodstain from it. “My daughters remember when we were a proper family, first generation vampyr, nearly thirty strong. Entire armies fled before us. The world was our feeding ground, always piled high with plenty to eat.”

“I remember the old days.” Victoria looked wistful. “So many different things to eat. We were free to play with our food, to indulge our many vices. I once kept a man locked in a barrel for two years, just to see if his blood would taste different. Toward the end, he begged me for death.” She sighed. “I wonder how the world has changed in our absence.”

Decima gurgled something, clearly wanting to add to the conversation. Her jaw pieces clacked instead, the head stuck in her throat.

“Our guest is the key to the future. I just haven’t deduced what sort of future that will be.” Vincentius moved to the edge of the room and turned to face them. “Now that I have had a proper meal, I can think more clearly and shall—”

The tall man paused, his eyes locking on Mike’s through the pinhole. Gasping, Mike took a step back from the wall, only for it to explode around him. Pain lanced through his entire body, and he looked down in shock to see that Vincentius had punched a hole through the wall and also his chest.

Without warning, Vincentius yanked Mike through the rubble and tossed him onto the table. “How disappointing,” he muttered, then held a finger to his lips and licked the blood free. His eyes widened. “How is this—”

Suddenly back in the moment, Mike shifted away from the eye holes, his heart pounding in his chest. Away from the gaps, the sounds were far more muffled, but he heard Vincentius mention his name more than once.

What the hell had he just seen? It was like he had lived the next few seconds out, only to snap back to the present and move away before Vincentius could see him. Was that how Sofia experienced her visions? It had been so extremely painful. Why was he experiencing them now? His premonitions of violence had never included visions!

He took several calming breaths, his magic working overtime to slow his heart rate. When the room finally went quiet, he held his breath, worried that maybe the vampyr could hear him through the wall and were waiting for him to look through the eye holes once more.

Vampyr.

He had heard Cyrus mention vampires more than once, but the only vampyr Mike had knowledge of was the one that Lily and the others had tackled over a year back. The thing had taken four powerful women just to subdue him. Even if Lily and the others were here right now, they would be outnumbered. Charlotte wasn’t against them, but the others? He couldn’t help but think of Decima, her jaw stretching wide to eat a man’s entire fucking head.

His thoughts raced as the shadows closed in on him. He didn’t dare move, not until Charlotte came for him, but a feeling of dread had settled in his guts. His hands shook with fear as he covered his face in an attempt to pull himself together.

He was trapped. Vincentius was a powerful vampyr lord. How the fuck was he supposed to escape from Avalon, let alone defeat a creature who was centuries old and could tear a hole through him with a single punch?

When someone grabbed his hand, he almost screamed in surprise. Standing there in the darkness, he felt the cold touch of a palm along his neck.

“Charlotte?” he whispered.

The hand withdrew, and a pair of glowing eyes appeared. The illumination was just enough to make out the sharp features of Nyx. The Seelie Princess held a finger to her lips for silence, then placed the palms of her hands over his temples.

Make not a sound, Caretaker. Nyx’s voice filled his mind. We may speak freely in this manner.

They’re all vampyr, he replied. I just watched them devour a man.

May I see? she asked. It took Mike a moment to realize what she was asking, but he nodded.

Just that memory, he clarified. The images flitted through his mind as Nyx watched what had occurred in mere moments. Her eyes narrowed in the direction of the holes in the wall, and she let go of his head to look through them.

He might see you, he told her.

I suspected they may be vampyr from the beginning, she replied. They stink of death and stolen things. Powerful they may be, but all things die, Caretaker. It’s just a matter of making it happen.

You knew? Why didn’t you tell me?

Nyx smirked. I didn’t know for sure. My theories are mine to keep, our agreement requires that I only share facts I have discovered.

Even half-truths have their worth, Nyx. Mike wasn’t about to admit to the Fae that arguing with her was calming him down faster than anything else. She was a nuisance, but a familiar one. I would prefer to hear your theories and attempt to deduce truths for myself.

The princess didn’t respond. Instead, she watched for another minute before sliding the secret latch back into place. “They are no longer there,” she said aloud. “We should not linger here. If anyone suspects our presence, they may choose to wait for us where you came in. Come. I have something I wish to show you.”

Mike cleared his throat, suddenly aware of how dry it had become. “Can it wait? I need to speak with the others.”

Nyx shook her head. “It cannot. Though their meal was eager, vampyr prefer to sleep after eating. It allows them to better retain that which they have taken. They feel safe in this place, secure in the knowledge that they cannot be hurt. We should use this to our advantage.”

“Lady Charlotte didn’t feed. Maybe I should wait for her to find me.”

“If she is truly on your side, then she will understand your absence and find you later. The vampyr will rest, but not for long. We may have no more than an hour at best.” Nyx leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. “If the others suspect her duplicity, they will follow her here to find you. Choose, Mike Radley. An unknown ally who may betray you, or an unreliable one who won’t.”

“If you’re gonna sugarcoat it like that,” he mumbled to himself and gestured toward the darkness. “What have you discovered?”

“Many things.” Nyx grinned as she turned sideways and scooted away from him. “Some I shall speak on, but others are best shown.” She disappeared into the darkness.

“Last time someone wanted to show me something, I wasn’t a fan of what I saw,” he muttered as he followed the Fae princess. He couldn’t help but notice that she left the lingering scent of springtime in the air behind her.

---

Mike and Lady Charlotte were gone less than half an hour before Sofia decided she was officially restless. She was in the middle of changing into a pair of pants when Cecilia drifted into the room by walking through the wall.

“What are you doing?” asked Cecilia.

Sofia looked at the banshee and smirked to herself, the memory of the spirit’s contributions in the tub on her mind. “I’m going out,” she said. “I’m tired of being cooped up with nothing to do. I can’t properly explain why, but that library is calling to me.”

“Books do have a certain allure.” Cecilia smiled. “Sometimes, Mike reads to me. I like how the words make everything sound so pretty.”

Sofia smiled. “They are a special kind of magic. I’m hoping that if I go again, Gerard won’t be there to tell me to piss off.”

“If he does, he’ll have to tell all of us to piss off. We’re coming with you.”

The cyclops frowned. “You don’t have to do that. I can take care of this on my own.”

Cecilia laughed, then turned transparent and floated backward through the wall. Sofia groaned in frustration and belted her dagger in place. The banshee was coming with her. Would that just slow her down? And what did she mean by we?

That question was answered once Sofia stepped out of her room and saw Cecilia, Suly, and Cerberus up and waiting by the door. The hellhound’s tail wagged as they looked up at her.

The cyclops opened her mouth to tell them that they should stay behind and let her go alone. This was something she wanted to do on her own, perhaps something that would contribute to solving their current dilemma. But something stopped her from speaking, her thoughts whirring uselessly.

Did this really have to be something she did on her own? Mike wasn’t here, yet the others were perfectly happy to come with her. Eager, even. Why the sudden interest? Was it because of what happened in the bathtub?

This thought caused Sofia’s mind to stall yet again. Did Cecilia think that they were now…something? Was this the banshee’s way of showing affection? If so, it was likely that she had roped her brother in on it. As for Cerberus, maybe it was just pack mentality, or—

“I think she may be in love,” said Sulyvahn. “She’s starin’ hard, this one.” The dullahan reached up and undid one of his buckles to reveal a patch of skin. “I kin almost feel her heart beatin’ stronger fer me, but that’s the most I can do fer ya, lass. My heart is taken by another.”

“Don’t be rude.” Cecilia elbowed her brother. “She’s conflicted about something, and it isn’t you.”

“Conflicted?” Suly redid the buckle with a smirk. “I don’ want ta send mixed messages.”

Sofia groaned. It was easy to forget that Cecilia could literally look right through her. “This was a solo mission,” she said. “I was hoping to learn something from the library here.”

“And there be no reason why we shouldn’t come with ye. Either fer company or protection.” Sulyvahn jerked his thumb at Cecilia. “It’s not like this one is gonna be good fer anything.”

Cecilia elbowed him again. “Eejit.” She looked up at Sofia with the sweetest smile she had ever seen. “Please let us help. We’re family.”

The cyclops blushed and put a hand to her chest. “Why, uh…yeah. Okay. Let’s go check out the library again.”

“Finally. Somethin’ to do other than clean me pants.” Sulyvahn chuckled and looked at his sister. “Do ye think Beth can do somethin’ similar? I’ve got an idea where she straps me to a chair and—”

Cecilia groaned and elbowed Suly again. The two exchanged harsh words in a language Sofia didn’t recognize. Once they were all together, they opened the door and exited the tower. Sofia remembered the way to the library, but it certainly wasn’t a direct route. She had a copy of the map on her and decided to use it to shorten the walk. Sadly, this backfired, and they ended up in a different part of the castle entirely.

The others didn’t give her any grief over this. Instead, they quietly followed. Sometimes, Cecilia looped arms with her brother or even with Cerberus. The group eventually found the door to the library nearly an hour later, where Cecilia stopped them with an outstretched hand.

“Hide,” she whispered. “Someone is leaving.”

The group scattered. Sofia hid behind a column while Sulyvahn took a spot behind a suit of armor. Cecilia disappeared from view. Cerberus stepped into a shadow and seemed to simply vanish just as the door opened and someone came stomping out.

When the figure went by Sofia’s hiding spot, she realized it was Gerard. The man looked determined, his gaze fixed forward as if deep in thought. Despite his departure, she waited several minutes before stepping out from her hiding spot.  Another minute passed, watching the hallway where Gerard had gone.

“I’m thinkin’ we’re clear,” said Sulyvahn from behind her.

“I don’t want to give him any reason to come back.” Turning, she walked toward the library door. “But knowing that we won’t have to—” She stopped talking when the door didn’t budge. “Fuck,” she muttered.

“I’ve got it.” Cecilia winked and stepped through the door. Sofia heard her fumbling around on the other side, and the door eventually came open.

“I thought it was hard for you to do that here,” said Sofia. “You don’t seem to be having nearly as much trouble with it now.”

“Feels easier today,” Cecilia admitted. “Now come inside before someone sees us.”

They all walked through the door before Suly closed it behind them. Looking around the large room, Sofia wondered where the first place to start should be. Opting for where she ended her tour last time, she walked into the room where the old book was being copied into the new one.

Expecting some sort of massive revelation from the book, she was disappointed to see that it was an old journal written in Spanish. The manuscript was from the late 1300s, and documented agricultural and some political upheaval in a small village.

“What the hell?” she muttered. Picking up the original she flipped through the pages, hoping that maybe there was something she had missed. While she wouldn’t go so far as to say the book wasn’t important, it seemed like a lot of work to copy something this old.

“Disgusting,” muttered Sulyvahn from behind her. She turned to see that he was looking at the blank books on a shelf in the corner of the room. “The paper be made from the trees of Avalon. But the skin of the book be human.”

Sofia narrowed her eye. It was just like the one they had read in the Library. In fact, that one had been a journal, too. She walked to where Sulyvahn stood and picked up another one. They were similar.

“Interesting,” she muttered. Why were they binding books in human flesh? Was it just due to a shortage of supplies, or was there a magical reason for doing so? Had Gerard meticulously copied Edgar’s journal into a book of his own before returning it? She still had so many questions, and no clear lead on answers.

“Do ye think there be somethin’ hidden in these tomes?” Sulyvahn set down his blank copy and turned toward the center of the room. “Why spend so much time keepin’ them new and shiny?”

“These are personal accounts. Before the printing press, books were always copied by hand. I’m not surprised that we aren’t exactly looking at a collection of fiction. However…” Sofia scanned the room. “This is also the same guy who put some kind of demon inside of a book. So maybe we shouldn’t be too careless about what we open.”

“Cerberus can handle a demon.” Sulyvahn snorted. “Why de ye think Cecilia was so keen on bringing them?”

“Oh.” It now occurred to Sofia that had she gotten yanked into a book, the others might be carried along with her. Cerberus could sniff out and devour whatever contrived entity had been installed. The banshee hadn’t just been keeping her company, but safe as well.

They checked out the scribing room for a bit longer and found nothing. Moving out into the main library, Sulyvahn and Sofia examined the different shelves, trying to discern any meaning between them. As far as she could tell, every book was a journal of some kind. At first, she wondered if perhaps Vincentius was the author, but some of the accounts overlapped or simply didn’t add up that way.

Of secret spells, they found none. Whatever power Gerard possessed hadn’t been invested in these books. Why would he? After all, who else would ever dare step into the Caretaker’s castle and interfere with one of the vassals?

“Ye know, I’ve a thought.” Sulyvahn set the book he had been reading down on the shelf. “We’ve so many old accounts, but why haven’t we seen any from the castle itself? Fer a man keepin’ this place so tidy and writin’ all day, why not some material of his own?”

“That’s a good point, actually.” Sofia stepped away from the bookshelf and down into the main body of the library two stories below. Cecilia was wandering about, swishing her skirt while having a one-sided conversation with Cerberus. “Cecilia?”

“Yes?” The banshee looked up.

“Will you and Cerberus look around and see if you can find any sort of hidden room or compartment? I wonder if there are books that aren’t kept where others may stumble upon them.” Sofia looked over at Sulyvahn. “Maybe even something that Gerard doesn’t want the others to find.”

Cecilia smiled and gave Sofia a thumbs-up. She and Cerberus moved to the edges of the first floor and milled about. The hellhound moved slowly along the wall, all three heads sniffing.

“Aye. Had a good idea today.” Sulyvahn chuckled to himself. “That makes one fer the week. Do ye really think our boy be keepin’ books from his master?”

“If he is, those two will find it.” Sofia leaned against the railing, gazing down at the banshee and the hellhound. “Do you ever wonder how we end up where we are?”

“Usually by walkin’.” Sulyvahn turned back to the nearest bookshelf. “Though I use my horse from time to time.”

The cyclops smiled. She had been referring to the fact that only a few years ago, she had been completely alone. Today, she was in the magical land of Avalon, digging through a library with two members of the Fae and a creature in charge of guarding the gates to the Underworld. Suly’s blithe response didn’t bother her. He had no way of knowing what was going on inside her head.

The search didn’t take Cerberus long at all. The hellhound ended up sniffing around a bookshelf toward the back of the main floor. Cecilia went transparent and passed through the shelving, only to return nearly a minute later.

“There’s a room behind here,” she said. “But I don’t know how you’re supposed to get in.”

Sofia and Suly went down the stairs and studied the bookshelf. Between the two of them, they were able to find the hidden trigger inside the shelving unit that caused it to unlock and pivot, swinging open to reveal a dark room with a desk and some books on a short shelf in the back.

The room had no light inside, so Sulyvahn and Sofia grabbed a few books. The two of them carried the books back into the main room and started perusing them. The first book Sofia opened looked to be a diary. She skimmed through it for a while, occasionally glancing up to see Sulyvahn deep in thought, his sister standing nearby.

The diary was from Gerard’s youth and detailed how he met Vincentius in the first place. First described as an older man of means, Vincentius entered the picture as a father-figure for Gerard, whose own parents were busy hobnobbing it up in high society. It was perfectly clear to Sofia that Gerard was being groomed by the man, but she couldn’t figure out why. Their relationship solidified when Vincentius offered to help Gerard’s sister, providing temporary relief for her ailments.

After scanning her book to the end, she sighed and closed it. “This one was about how Gerard ended up here,” she said. “Mostly personal recollections and some musings about his best friend. What’s yours about?”

Suly didn’t answer. He whispered something to Cecilia, and the banshee leaned in as if able to see the pages. Cerberus was there as well, all three heads listening raptly as the dullahan quietly read a passage out loud to them.

“Hey. Did you find something?”

Sulyvahn’s head snapped up so fast that the seam in his neck briefly became visible, spilling dark smoke. “Uh, er, technically yes, but it’s nothing useful.”

“We can’t know that for sure. These books were kept hidden for a reason, and it’s entirely possible that we can learn how to escape through the tiniest detail.”

“Er, right.” Sulyvahn gestured at his book. “This one seems to be a novel about a Caretaker’s vassal named Jerad who has a secret harem of men in the village. He beds them regularly, and each one has an unusual kink.”

“Oh.” Sofia grimaced. “Okay, so maybe that one doesn’t—”

“Hold on, Sofia, the tiniest details may be a clue. One of the men is a cobbler and has a thing for feet. There was a passage in here nearly ten pages long describing all the things you can do with a foot.” The dullahan grinned as he flipped the pages. “There’s also the blacksmith who flared the base of his hammer so that he can sit on it and rock—”

“Okay, Sulyvahn. I get the picture.” Sofia groaned. “Is this story factual or fictional?”

“In one chapter, the men cover themselves in oil and form something called the meat serpent of male sensuality.” Suly flipped through the pages as Cecilia walked away giggling. “How many fists can actually fit in one arsehole? If the number is less than four at once, then I suspect this be a work of bent truths at best.”

Now even Cerberus was giggling.

“Fine, you got me. Let’s focus less on Gerard’s burgeoning career as an erotic novelist and more on stuff like his diary.” Sofia dug through the books she had carried over. It was only sheer dumb luck that the first one she had read was a diary. The other three were packed full of homoerotic material.

The writing was also pretty awful. At least now she understood why Gerard had hidden these books away. She and Suly continued digging through the shelves, trying to isolate Gerard’s diaries from the rest. On the plus side, Gerard had kept some form of journal for his entire time here. He kept no secrets from himself, and that was how Sofia learned that Vincentius and all the others were vampyr.

“Fuck me,” she muttered.

A cold finger traced the skin of her forearm. Sofia looked up to see Cecilia staring at her.

“Eager for another bath already?” The banshee grinned, which sent a wave of heat through Sofia’s stomach. “I’m sure something can be arranged.”

“Ugh. Not in front o’ me.” Sulyvahn’s protest was half-hearted. By his side, Cerberus was also perusing some books of their own. Sofia hadn’t known that the hellhound could read. Did all three heads read at the same speed, or did they—

She shook her head, knocking free the distracting thoughts. “Vincentius and the others are vampyr. The original kind. Gerard got turned shortly after coming here. His fealty was in exchange for saving his sister’s life.”

“Which means the Lady Charlotte is a bloodsucking beast. Aye.” Sulyvahn shook his head. “It’s always the quiet ones.”

Sofia kept reading. “It sounds like he and Charlotte are the most recent ones. The others were here before them.” She tapped a finger on the current page. “He doesn’t trust Galahad. Doesn’t care for someone named Victoria or Decima either. Those are Vincentius’ daughters.”

“From before he was turned?” asked Suly.

“No idea. Daughter can mean a couple of different things to a vampyr. Could be his own daughter, a woman that he turned later and favors, who fucking knows. Vampyr each have their own customs, kind of like a cult.” Sofia sighed and closed the journal. The last third of it was little more than the musings of a young man who now required blood to live. “I wish I knew how old Vincentius was, or which generation he is.”

“Is that important?” asked Cecilia.

“Very.” Sofia picked up a random journal and skimmed it. Either this was more smut Gerard had written or he had spent a considerable amount of time studying the different cocks in the village. “Vampirism has been seen as both a curse and a disease. There’s no telling which it began as. Only the first vampyr knows. They can transfer it to others, but the next generation is always slightly weaker than the one who preceded it. That’s why modern-day vampires aren’t very strong at all and have developed new weaknesses. It’s like the equivalent of in-breeding.”

“Aye, we have plenty o’ that in the Fae courts.” Sulyvahn frowned. “Our chaotic nature doesn’t make the offspring off in the head, but now you end up with a bunch of lords and ladies who can’t wield sufficient power on account o’ the lack of blood ties.”

Sofia picked up another journal. “Are you talking about inter-house treaties and such?”

Sulyvahn nodded. “A Fae with ties to multiple powerful houses will have far more value than one whose parents were siblings. It be about politics and intrigue for that lot, an’ I want none of it.”

Sofia snorted. “Yeah, well. I never really got to experience stuff like that firsthand. I remember hearing that the Library went through some problems like that, once upon a time. You find that politics become a non-issue when everyone is busy just trying to survive.” Her thoughts briefly flitted to the names and faces of those who had come before.

Unlike previous days, it was easy to allow each of them to have their moment and fade. Sofia just shook her head and opened the next book. “Well, with any luck, we can—” Her eye went wide as her brain processed the opening lines. She had to re-read it twice, her fingers clutching the book so hard that the cover gave a creak of warning.

“What is it, lass?”

Sofia looked up at Suly, the words already burned into her mind. “The Purge is now complete and my belly is full for the first time since my rebirth. My feelings are mixed. On the one hand, the dying part of me feels for the people of the village. On the other, I feel strong, more powerful than ever. This is what Vincentius promised me, not the scraps I have been subsisting on.”

“And though I curse her name for what she has done, I cannot help but feel a hint of gratitude,” Suly continued. He looked up at Sofia with wide eyes. “For everything changed on the day that the Caretaker came, may she rot in Hell.”

“You keep reading that one,” Sofia declared. “I’ll look for the one that came before. Once we have it, we’re leaving before we get caught.” The cyclops picked up the next book and immediately violated one of the first rules of reading.

She skipped straight to the last page and read the ending.

---

Nyx glided through the darkness, at one with the shadows. Her small frame meant that she only had to crouch while Mike was forced to go on his hands and knees. If her demeanor wasn’t so serious, he’d wonder if they were taking the long way again, just to fuck with him.

They didn’t speak anymore, even with telepathy. Whatever she had done before was probably temporary, or maybe it was distance based. Either way, the only time she stopped to look back was when she reached the end of a hallway and needed him to see where she turned.

Just how many secret passages does this fucking place have? He wondered for perhaps the tenth time. Sure, the castle itself was massive, but was this much secrecy required? On at least a few occasions, the passageways were made of different material on each side, almost like someone had built an entire structure inside or immediately attached to another one.

Perhaps he needed to think in terms of who used to own this castle. The vampyr wouldn’t give a fuck about secret passageways unless they were under siege. To his understanding, they didn’t fear much. Maybe the whole castle was connected in this manner so that they could hide for weeks within its halls, should something like an army move in and hunt them.

The twists and turns came to an abrupt end when Nyx opened up a door that cast the crimson light of the sky down the hallway, her body briefly looking like the pupil of the eye of Sauron in its light. Mike had been in the darkness so long that he actually had to squint as he stepped outside.

He first thought that maybe they were now on a very small balcony. Nyx actually had to scoot to the side to make enough room for him. The ledge itself was no more than three feet from the wall to the yawning void immediately beneath them. A life-sized statue of a knight in armor gazed down toward the village in the distance.

He turned to ask Nyx what they were doing out here when she cocked her head and silenced him with a finger. The Fae princess looked up above, and Mike followed her gaze. After a couple of seconds, he finally heard voices from that direction.

“No, I saw it myself,” said a gargoyle somewhere up above them. “That Mike guy was absolutely cracking stones together with the cyclops. A whole bunch of the others were fighting to watch them through the window, but everyone on that side of the castle could hear it. I wanted to get closer, but had to settle for a distant ledge.”

“So how did it happen?” asked another gargoyle.

“I’m getting there, schist.” The original speaker cleared their throat. “Anyway, we can hear all this moaning and stuff, as fleshlings do. Gabbria is leaning in the window the most, really hogging the view. Suddenly, he seizes up and just tosses his rocks all over the guy under him.”

“No!” This was from a third gargoyle.

“Yeah, I know, right? Gabbria is a bit of a clown, but it’s not like he was polishing the marble or something. He drops his load like a sack of sand on, uh, Talus, I think. Honestly, doesn’t matter. Everyone like me thinks a big fight is about to break out, but others near the window do the same exact thing!”

“Seriously? Everyone came?”

“Yep. Three people fell into the pit and had to be rescued before they went too far. Something about what was going on in the human’s tower made everybody who was watching it come all over the exterior. It was the strangest thing I’ve ever—hold on, I see that weird Fae girl again.”

Mike looked over and realized that Nyx had disappeared. Up above, he heard the gargoyles shift about, followed by the flapping of wings. After a couple of minutes, Nyx drifted down from over the edge of the roof, adjusting her dress as the wind cushioned her fall.

“They are chasing my shadow,” she said. “I did not want them overhearing us.”

“There could be others,” he said.

“But there aren’t.” Her eyes sparkled in the twilight. “You can look for yourself.”

Mike didn’t bother. “What do you have to show me?”

“This place is made of many castles. Did you know that, Mike Radley?” Nyx grinned. “Some people collect rocks. Others, lovers. Vincentius collects castles.”

“And what, mashes them together?”

“In a way. Such a thing was once in his power, if it isn’t still.” Nyx put her hand on the statue’s back. “I have wandered these halls, asking the walls to remember. This knight in particular happens to have seen some very interesting things.”

“Well, let’s not hog all the conversation then.” Mike patted the statue on the shoulder. “Sir knight, if you could tell us what you saw, I’d appreciate it.”

Nyx narrowed her eyes at him. “You mock the memory of the stone?”

“No. I loathe standing over the abyss.” Mike pointed toward the pit. “There’s something about it that I really don’t like.”

“I feel the same,” she admitted. “You need a small bit of context, though. Take a closer look at the void.”

“I hate this,” Mike muttered as he looked out over the ledge, half expecting Nyx to give him a shove. When a vision of his death didn’t trigger, he leaned even further. Down below was the truncated ledge of the bridge that belonged to the missing tower.

“I think I get it,” he said. “This guy saw what happened to the tower that used to be here.”

“Indeed. These halls have many secrets, but stone doesn’t often know how to decide what is important. It would take decades to question the place.” Nyx turned shining eyes on the statue. “But even a stone will note the importance of losing an entire tower.”

“So what did it say?”

“Context.” Nyx smirked. “Were you aware that this castle was once known to you mortals as Camelot?”

“Really?” Mike scratched at his chin. “It’s crossed my mind, but it looks way too spooky from the outside.” The castle’s aesthetic leaned heavily on gothic murder vibes rather than anything Mike had ever pictured in his mind. Maybe he could blame Disney for that.

“That is Vincentius’ doing. He crammed various structures together to make a maze of the place.” Nyx gestured to where the tower should have been. “You should know that I remember this tower from the old days. It belonged to the court’s wizard, Merlin.”

“THE Merlin?” Mike blinked in surprise. “I shouldn’t be shocked, but wow. It seems like he’s sort of come up more than once. Do you think he was here when…you know.”

Nyx shook her head. “Merlin could have handled Vincentius’ conquest. He was not here on the day that Camelot fell. After the death of Arthur, Merlin’s fate has become unknown. Prior to his death, he locked up the tower and commanded that none who valued their lives would be able to enter.”

“Was he keeping something important in there?”

Nyx nodded. “In a way. Merlin was a master of dimensional magic. My sisters and I have long surmised that his tower contained the only entrance to a portal where he kept many powerful artifacts.”

“Not unlike what’s been set up here with Count Chocula and his league of extraordinary assholes.”

The princess tilted her head to one side. “One thing that puzzles me about humans is their sense of humor. We are discussing very serious things, yet you make light of them.”

“By nature, humans are unpredictable. We can make light, straight up lie, or even do good for no reason. From my perspective, you do the exact same things, only in an extremely roundabout way.”

“The Fae can’t lie,” Nyx said with a sneer.

“What of the lie of omission? You are shackled by rules that have made your kind extremely creative in bypassing them. We can argue this point all day, but I would rather discuss what you learned from a statue about Merlin’s magical tower.” Mike jerked his thumb at the knight. “We need to respect this guy’s time.”

Nyx scoffed. “Time is meaningless to a stone.”

“I would argue the same of the Fae. Our lifetime seems like minutes to you, yet you can be so impatient. How do we know that a hunk of rock doesn’t see your kind the same way?” Mike leaned on the statue. “This thing was forged in a star billions of years ago, and will exist until the end of the Universe. Can you say the same for the Fae?”

Nyx briefly bared her fangs. “We are eternal, Mike Radley. We were here before, and we’ll be here long after. You can never truly understand the ways of the Fae.”

Mike sighed inwardly. If he continued picking at Nyx, they would either be here all day or she’d find some way to withhold information from him. “You’re right, I can’t,” he replied. “Do you know why humans like to say that we live about a hundred years? Because some of us make it that long. Even we are aware of how brief our time is. Those extra thirty years we may get seem so important to us because we don’t know what happens next. I’ve only known that the Fae exist for a few years now, which is probably the equivalent of a heartbeat to some of you.”

“Your people have forgotten the old ways.” Nyx jabbed a finger at his chest. “You seek to unravel the mysteries of the universe with your math and your science.”

“Because it works,” Mike countered. “And also, because we have nothing else. We live in a world where the gods are in hiding and people like yours have vanished.”

“That was Merlin’s doing.” Nyx gave him a hard stare, and then her features softened. “The Fae chose Arthur to lead humanity back to a time of magic. We truly believed that he would be the one to bring magic back from the brink. When he failed, Merlin sealed away magic from the sight of men in the hopes of protecting those who remained.”

“How did he do it?” Mike asked.

“With the help of the Architect.”

“Who is the Architect?”

Nyx paused, then smirked. “That information has no relevance to our potential escape. I could tell you all that I know in exchange for something.”

Mike shook his head. “All that you know may be nothing at all. No deal.”

“Pity.” Nyx moved closer to Mike, her body now so close that he could smell her. Her scent reminded him of a lightning storm in May. “What if I wanted something small? Perhaps your devotion, if only for a minute?”

“My opinion of you hasn’t changed,” Mike said. “If you really want my attention, you should be more giving and show kindness to those you see as beneath you.” He had no idea what Nyx actually wanted from him, but even his magic recoiled. This was more than some random desire or fantasy of hers. If the Fae princess just wanted a quick fuck from him, his magic would probably give him a thumbs up of approval.

No, she clearly wanted something beyond just that. She was dangerous.

“Hmm.” Nyx pursed her lips and grasped his hand. “I guess we should focus on other things, then.” She placed her free hand on the statue, and the world cracked around them.

Show me your memories. Nyx’s words startled Mike, but he realized they weren’t directed at him. He was now holding perfectly still, and had been for centuries now, looking down on a tower. Mike tried to move his head or look away, but his eyes were for the entryway alone, along with part of the bridge. His gaze was fixed, just like the statue’s.

The world was cast into twilight and a dark figure stood halfway across the bridge. It was Vincentius, and his vassals stood behind him. The man wore a dark suit of armor and held a spear in one hand.

“CARETAKER!” he roared.

The air in front of the door of the tower shimmered, then filled with sparkling lights that looked like fireflies. The lights swarmed together, forming into the visage of a beautiful woman with dark, auburn hair wearing an old Victorian dress.

“Conqueror,” she replied calmly.

“We had a deal, Natalie!” Vincentius snarled. “An agreement!”

Natalie winked. “Oh, c’mon, Vincey. What’s a little light betrayal between allies?”

“You used me!” Vincentius pointed his spear at the woman. “Come out here and face me in person.”

“I may be a woman, Vincey, but I am no fool.” Natalie yawned. “I have a Game to win, and you had a piece I needed.”

How can we hear this so clearly? Mike asked.

Stone hears everything, Nyx replied. Now shut up.

“You said we would win this game together. You used me.” When Vincentius spoke, it reminded Mike of distant thunder. He had yet to hear the man properly angry before.

“Yes, I did. Just like you use the people you keep trapped here.” Natalie walked toward Vincentius with a skip in her step. “You see, Vincey, you spent all those centuries amassing power, then concentrated it all right here where I could take it from you.”

“You’ve taken nothing from me, yet. Though I cannot enter that tower, you will have to come out at some point. And I refuse to let you leave Avalon.”

“Oh, I’m hardly worried about that.” Natalie was now standing in front of Vincentius. “And once I’ve escaped, I know you won’t follow. The boogeyman is still out there, looking for you.”

If Mike hadn’t been made of stone, his eyebrows would have crawled into his hair at the sight of Vincentius flinching.

“Did you really think I didn’t know?” Natalie laughed. It was like the sound of tinkling bells. “You’re just as foolish as that dead god you wear across your breast.”

“I earned this armor through the blood that I’ve shed,” Vincentius declared, then slapped his own breastplate. “I’ve conquered kingdoms on a whim and slaughtered armies by myself. I’ve earned this title!”

“The man you took that from was just a mortal. You, however, are something different.” Natalie circled Vincentius, studying him. “Has the armor ever even spoken to you? Told you its desires?”

Vincentius was like a statue himself, his eyes fixed on the tower. It was clear that he was watching for the true Natalie to escape.

“I didn’t think so,” she replied. “You aren’t the first person to pretend to be a player of the Grand Game. That’s actually how I learned you were being hunted. When you came to me, begging for sanctuary from another player called the Curator, I knew from day one that he wasn’t part of the game. You are little more than a pretender, and you certainly aren’t the first. But since we’re so obsessed with titles, maybe I can give you a new one. Like the Charlatan, perhaps?” Natalie was toying with the man, and Mike adored her for it.

Decima, who stood nearby, finally lost her patience and took a swing at Natalie, her fingers turning into foot-long blades. The magical simulacrum scattered into a cloud of light, only to reform in the air just off the side of the bridge. She blew Decima a kiss.

“You should try that out here,” Natalie said.

Decima actually moved to attack, but was held back by Vincentius. He casually forced the younger vampyr to her knees.

“She baits you,” he said, his eyes still locked on the tower.

“And I’m really good at it.” Natalie’s eyes sparkled. “I’m a real master baiter.”

Mike tried to clap so hard that the vision shook.

Hold still, Nyx hissed in his mind. Memories are fragile.

I like this girl, he replied. Natalie was one of his predecessors. If she figured out a way to get out of here, then it meant that Naia might have that memory locked in her head. Old memories of the Caretaker were hidden by the Geas, but not if they were stumbled upon. Most of Emily’s memories had been ripe for the plucking because so many of the others had been around to see them happen. If he could figure out how to commune with Naia, then they could all go home.

“You shall never leave this place.” Vincentius struck the butt of his spear on the bridge. “You may claim I’m a false player in the Game, but the magic of this armor speaks otherwise. This is my kingdom, the kingdom of the Conqueror! Nobody leaves my land without my head or my permission.”

Natalie busted into laughter. “You say that, but there’s actually a massive hole in your plan. Wanna see it?” Before Vincentius could respond, the illusion burst into motes of light, then reappeared in front of the door to Merlin’s tower. She winked at the vampyr and stomped her foot. The bridge beneath them shattered.

Vincentius and the vassals moved quickly, retreating out of sight as the entire tower plummeted into the darkness. As if in slow motion, Mike watched the structure sink into the depths, his eyes lingering on its final sight. Natalie, no longer an illusion, had leaned out of one of the windows to blow the others a kiss as the tower fell. But it wasn’t the sight of the former Caretaker that had him so enthralled.

The tower didn’t have a spire like the others. Instead, it was a massive observatory with a telescope sticking out of the top, the same one that was bolted onto his house.

“NOOOOOO!” screamed Vincentius as Natalie and the tower vanished into the gloom. The man’s screams echoed in Mike’s head even after the memory vanished.

“That was…” Mike stared down into the gloom, unsure what to say at this point. “Educational.”

“And directly related to our escape. I have never met that woman, but you are one of her successors.” Nyx stepped onto the ledge and looked down into the void. “I know not where this hole leads, though. I don’t think we should throw ourselves into it quite yet.”

Mike shivered at the mere thought of doing so. Nyx led him back to the secret door and they walked inside together.

The observatory was part of his home. What had happened to the rest of Merlin’s tower? Had it been destroyed in the fall? What had Natalie found inside? If there was something important, surely—

Mike stopped in the narrow passageway, his hands on the walls. He stared at Nyx’s back, afraid to say anything out loud. The Grimoire had been found in the observatory, hadn’t it? With an apple on the cover?

Natalie had stolen it from Merlin’s tower. In turn, she had also stolen it from Vincentius. Several pieces of the puzzle fell into place around him. Was there anything else inside of the observatory? Mike had never seen any portals in there, but he’d also pretty much given that place to Dana. She was obsessed with the telescope and where it might be pointing. Despite the observatory being on his house, if you looked out the window, it appeared to be in the middle of a blasted landscape somewhere in outer space.

Was Merlin’s secret stash of magic currently in his home?

“You stopped.” Nyx had turned to face him. “Why?”

“Processing a lot of stuff I’ve seen today.” He tapped the wall for a moment, then relaxed. “We should get back to my tower so we can speak with the others.”

“Why?” Nyx sounded genuinely curious. “Are you not their leader?”

He fought the urge to pull out his own hair in frustration. “Because I value their opinion, Nyx. You’ve created this odd hierarchy in your head that makes no sense to me.”

“It doesn’t have to,” she replied. “It only has to make sense to me.”

“How can somebody so powerful be so naive?” he asked. “You are a creature who gets to live forever, yet still act like…” Mike had been about to say children when it occurred to him that Nyx was easily thousands, maybe millions of years into an eternal lifespan. What was childhood for a Fae creature, anyway? Many of them were like Cecilia and had simply come into being one day. Stages of life were a foreign concept for creatures like Nyx.

“Like what, Mike?” Nyx grinned, revealing all of her teeth. It was very clear she planned to take offense at whatever he said next, if she could get away with it. “Go on, say it.”

“Bananas,” he deadpanned.

“Bananas?” Nyx frowned. “How am I like a banana?”

“A banana would fit down this hallway, would it not?” He fought to keep the smirk from his face. “Therefore, you are acting like one.”

“I…uh…” The Fae princess seemed truly flummoxed for a change. Technically, what he said was the truth, and she couldn’t figure out how to bend it to her whim. Her face briefly changed color, trying to find offense with his statement. After several seconds, she scowled. “You are being a banana as well.”

It was a trap. Nyx was hoping the comment would piss him off.

“That’s because I’m so appealing,” he replied. Nyx actually ground her teeth so hard that he could hear them cracking.

“You irritate me,” she finally replied, turning away. “Let us not speak until we are back in our temporary dwelling.”

His lip twitched as he fought a smile, secretly pleased with himself. The two of them navigated the confines of the castle until they emerged in a familiar dusty parlor. From there, it was another ten minutes to their tower. Other than seeing a random servant polishing some armor, there was no other activity to be seen.

When they stepped out onto the bridge that went to Mike’s tower, Lady Charlotte was standing outside the door, waiting for them. The woman narrowed her eyes at Nyx, but waited for them to cross over before greeting them.

“Mike Radley. Lady Nyx.” Charlotte did a small curtsy. “I have been instructed to extend an invitation to the two of you.” Her eyes flitted briefly to the ramparts behind them. Mike suspected that someone, likely a gargoyle, was watching.

“An invitation for what?” Mike crossed his arms. “I am pretty busy these days, my calendar is full.”

Nyx actually jabbed him in the stomach with her elbow. “You’re annoying,” she said.

“The Caretaker wishes to speak with you at length about your new role here,” Charlotte replied. “But he is indisposed right now. In two days time, a celebration will be held in your honor and the Caretaker will speak with you then regarding expectations and rewards. Afterward, you will join him for a special meal to negotiate terms.”

Mike’s throat immediately went dry, and he coughed. “And if I should refuse?” he asked.

Lady Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “Don’t,” she replied. “Tomorrow, a seamstress will come to measure you and your companions for attire befitting the occasion. Make sure that you are here.”

Nyx snorted. “I shall provide my own attire,” she replied, her outfit briefly changing shape. “I go where I please.”

“Noted.” Charlotte looked at Mike, a hint of worry in her eyes. “Do you have any further questions?”

Mike nodded. He would have until the party to figure out a plan. For the time being, it was best if he acted like nothing had changed. “Just one. Will you save a dance for me, Lady Charlotte?”

The woman’s pale cheeks darkened. “As you wish, Mike Radley.” She bowed to the two of them and left. He and Nyx watched her cross the bridge to go back inside the castle.

How fucked are we? he thought to himself. Nyx cocked her head as if hearing something, then gave him a knowing look.

Very, she replied.