Chasing Loopholes

“Archduchess Bethany?”

Beth lifted her head off of Mike’s desk, a piece of paper stuck to her forehead. She flicked the offending piece of paper off, her bleary eyes focusing on the spectre of Death standing in the doorway. The Reaper was holding two cups of tea along with a small stack of mail tucked underneath his arm.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“It is almost three in the afternoon,” Death said. “You fell asleep about an hour ago.”

“Oh.” Beth yawned and leaned back in her chair to stretch. She paused with her hands stretched toward the ceiling, her stomach briefly exposed beneath the soft white fabric of her sweater. “Wait. Archduchess?”

“I’m running out of titles to try,” he replied.

“That one requires me to be married or a widow,” Beth told him. “It does sound cool, but doesn’t work.”

“Ah.” Death sounded disappointed. “Anyway, I got the mail.” He walked over to set it on the desk. “I’m afraid it’s all junk.”

“How are things out there?” asked Beth.

“Grim.” Death handed her one of the tea cups. “An odd mist has appeared around the property. I tried to count how many Fae warriors were there and gave up. They won’t hold still.”

“Did they say anything to you?” she asked.

“More of the same. Where is the Caretaker? Give us the girl. Dance with us.” Death shook his head. “They are perfectly aware that they cannot harm me, nor can I harm them. The neighbors haven’t noticed anything, but people are getting harassed by the Fae at the park down the road.”

“Cheeky fuckers,” Beth muttered. “Have…has anybody in the neighborhood gone missing?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” Death scratched at the top of his head. “It’s only a matter of time, though. Faerie rings have started appearing in the area. They weren’t too happy when I destroyed them.”

“How did you do that?” asked Beth.

“The little scythe.” Death reached into his cloak and produced a miniature version of the wicked blade he normally carried. “It’s great for precision work.”

“Why do you even have a blade that small?”

“You should see the one I have for insects.” Death grinned. “It’s a mite smaller.”

Beth narrowed her eyes. “Please don’t,” she warned.

“If it bugs you, I’ll stop.” Death sipped at his tea, a satisfied grin on his face.

“Do insects even have souls?” asked Beth. “Is there an afterlife for them?”

“Ah. A great question.” Death stared ahead at the wall as he played with the teabag in his mug. “They are alive, but lack any true spiritual cohesion. Their soul, for lack of a better word, is made up of the same stuff as yours, but there’s not nearly enough of it. The lifeforce they possess doesn’t move on. It simply continues in a perpetual cycle. Perhaps as the universe comes to an end, this energy will have nowhere left to go and move on to the next realm, or simply fade away with the final breath of the last star in the sky.”

“That…” Beth swallowed the lump in her throat. “Sounds kind of awful.”

“The end of anything is rarely seen as pretty, archmage Bethany.” Death lifted a bony brow. “Is that title okay?”

“It’s better, but I’m not technically a mage. Are you looking these up online or something?”

“Er…maybe.”

“Well, I appreciate you trying.” Beth turned to the closest window. It had fogged up on the outside, and dark forms shifted around it. They occasionally would drag sharp fingers across the glass, creating symbols that attempted to grab at Beth’s attention. Even though the Fae couldn’t cross the boundary into the house, it didn’t mean she was immune to some of their less tangible magical effects. Yuki had been forced to drag her away from a similar rune yesterday after Beth had stared at it so long that she started drooling.

Death was the only one who could safely go outside. Even Naia avoided going to her fountain, just in case they tried to influence her there. The only one particularly vulnerable was Amymone, who slept deep inside of her tree. However, the Fae were currently dead set on Grace or her father, and likely knew that harming Amymone would be considered a massive enough breach that even their queen would condemn them.

Titania. Beth thought about the Queen of the Fae and let out a sigh. If only they could speak with her directly, maybe they could get her to rein in her citizens.

Luckily, nobody in the home was going stir crazy. Their pocket dimension in Hawaii remained unbreached, and none of the centaurs reported any issues after closing up the greenhouse. Things at the cabin were different, however. The Fae were snooping around there, but had done nothing to disturb the Nirumbi, who had greeted them correctly as visitors.

This siege was unlike the others that had come to their home in that they could theoretically just ignore the Fae and go on with their lives. However, there was a massive caveat. Once Mike returned to the mortal realm, he would likely be captured and questioned. Grace would be unable to return to the cabin, not until the Fae could ask her about their missing citizens, and Beth did not trust them to do so politely.

The little Arachne’s answers regarding the Fae had been enigmatic enough that Beth suspected something quite major had happened, but Grace had downplayed the truth for reasons unknown. Hopefully her father would have a better way of getting through to her.

Eulalie had shut down the Library a couple of days ago, closing off access to everyone. This was largely to keep the Fae from finding a backdoor into the house that they could use, but was also due to some trouble the Arachne had gotten into involving a witch. For now, it was better to keep the Library’s witch problem from overlapping with the home’s Fae issues.

“Anything else I should know?” asked Beth.

Death nodded. “I did see Order operatives in the area.”

“What?” Beth felt her heart leap into her chest.

“They aren’t here for us.” Death gestured toward the window. “These events have not gone unnoticed. I spent some time with a nice young mage named Daniella, once she stopped screaming and running away. The Order has been informed that this is a house issue and not remotely our fault. Yet, the Fae may cause issues.”

Beth nervously sipped at her tea and let out a groan. “I really hate that those assholes are even here,” she said. She had it on rather good authority that the Order had no intention of fucking around with the Radley house anymore, but it wouldn’t be the first time the Order had changed their mind. “So are they sticking around to help us?”

“No. Once they learned the truth of their mission, I was informed that all Order operations in the area would cease immediately. For some reason, they have no desire to tangle with either us or the Fae.” The Grim Reaper shook his head in disappointment. “This seems rather anti-ethical with their original mission statement.”

“Antithetical,” Beth corrected, then smirked when she realized something. “How far through the dictionary are you?”

Death shrugged. “Not very. I wished to expand my vocabulary and learned that most of the bigger words are the grammatical equivalent of a bar trick. The majority of people don’t seem to understand them enough to properly appreciate them, and I don’t seek to mingle with only self-identified intellectuals.”

“So you got bored?”

“Perhaps disinterested is a better term. Maybe even fatigued.” The Reaper stuck a hand in his pocket and pulled out a biscotto, which was still wrapped in plastic. “I took these from a local coffee shop. Would you like one?”

“When you say took, I hope you meant paid.”

Death shrugged. “The woman at the counter refused to look at me. I put enough money on the counter and left. It’s not up to me to grease every cog in the wheel of commerce. I will note, however, that I did not leave a tip.”

Beth laughed far harder than she should have. The sheer silliness of the exchange was such a juxtaposition to the stress of the last several days that it was the perfect outlet for everything that had been building up inside.

Her laughter was cut short by the sound of someone pounding a fist on their front door. She rolled her eyes and was almost to the living room when Yuki beat her to the door.

“I’ve got this one,” muttered the kitsune. She snapped her fingers, and the temperature in the room dropped as a crown of ice formed on her head. The kitsune pulled the door open and glared at a figure made of stone and mud that now stood on their front porch.

“Hospitality,” the creature demanded, gravel falling out of its mouth when it spoke.

“The owner of this home is not in,” Yuki replied coldly. “At this time, we are not allowed to entertain guests without his express permission.”

“Hospitality!” The creature slammed a fist against the house, causing the frame to crack. “Hos! Pi! Tal! I—”

Yuki snapped her fingers, sending a blast of arctic air into the Faerie. It was knocked backward off the porch and fell to the ground, frost crawling up its body. A series of icicles bloomed in a scattered circle around it, pinning it in place in such a way that the Fae had to hold still to avoid impaling itself.

“Today, I give you your life,” Yuki declared, a maelstrom of ice crystals orbiting her body. “It is not a gift and it is not freely given. What do you offer in return?”

The bulky Fae gulped and shook, whether from terror or the cold, Beth couldn’t tell.

“Mercy?” it asked.

“You may think the Radleys are blind to the rules,” Yuki shouted, so others could hear. “One cannot force or threaten their way into a home when the owner is away and expect to be given proper Hospitality.”

“Mercy?” asked the Fae again.

Yuki glared at the Fae on the ground. “Leave and never return in exchange for your life,” she growled, her tails fanning out behind her. Never once did Yuki cross through the boundary of the door, meaning that her tails kept Beth from seeing what was happening.

She did, however, hear the steady beating of feet as the Fae squirmed free of its trap and ran. The Fae shapes in the fog giggled and laughed as their cohort fled, the sound hypnotic and alluring. Yuki shut the door, and the crown of ice vanished from her head.

“You’re scary,” said Beth.

“Yes.”

Yuki turned her attention back to the living room where Grace was in the middle of folding a piece of paper alongside Reggie and a couple of other rats. There were dozens of origami animals all around the room, most of them insects. “They come under the guise of Hospitality, but they’re little more than bullies.”

No sooner had she spoken than somebody pounded on the door. Yuki’s ear twitched, and she moved to the curtain to see who it might be. “It’s another one,” she grumbled. “Guy who looks like a praying mantis crossed with John Lennon.”

“I’ve got this one.” Beth hurried back to the office. She came back out with a piece of paper and some double-sided sticky tape. On the paper, she had written Knock if you would like us to gift you with our presence.

Yuki laughed. “Will that actually work?”

“They aren’t exactly pestering us with their brightest.” In fact, Beth had no idea if such a thing would work, but the Fae took gifts very seriously. She pushed open the door and stared up at the mantis-shaped John Lennon, who clacked his mandibles angrily. His blade-shaped hand was frozen mid-knock.

“I demand—”

“A high-five?” Beth slapped the open palm of the Fae. “Given, as requested. What will you give me in exchange?”

The Fae’s bug eyes changed colors as it spluttered angrily. Beth stuck the sign to the outside of the door and pushed the paper smooth. When she turned back around, the Fae was still blustering.

“If you’re trying to think of adequate compensation, I’m trying to decide between a hundred years as my personal servant or having you leave me alone for the next hundred years. If you can’t choose, I could always toss a coin.”

The Fae went silent, its mouthparts flexing in frustration. Beth wasn’t entirely sure if such an agreement would be legally binding by Fae terms, but it was also clear that Bug Lennon wasn’t either.

Beth pulled the silver coin out of her pocket. It was almost hot to the touch. “I’ve got a coin right here.”

“I choose the second option!” Bug Lennon bolted off of the porch, his wings fluttering as he hopped away into the mist. Beth smirked and went back inside where Yuki stood waiting.

“What would you have done if he chose the first option?” asked the kitsune.

Beth shrugged. “No idea. Probably would have ordered him to go plant a forest. Something useful, anyway.”

The kitsune chuckled and moved back into the living room just in time to keep Grace from biting the head off of an origami mantis. The symbolism was not lost on Beth. She flopped onto the nearest chair and let out a loud huff just as her phone chimed back in the office.

“Damn it,” she muttered. Before she could get up, Death came into the room carrying her phone. “Oh. Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” Death’s eye lights flickered.

Beth unlocked her phone and saw that she had a rather long text from Eulalie. With the Library on lockdown, the Arachne was using some random server in a Fae-proof building in New Zealand to send messages. As Beth read through it, she got up from her chair and headed for the stairs.

“Everything okay?” asked Yuki.

“When has it ever been?” Beth put her phone away. “Mike learned that one of the former Caretakers escaped from Avalon, and he wanted to know if Kisa could check with Naia. However, Kisa is stuck in the Library, so the task fell on me.”

Yuki grinned. “Have fun.”

“We’ll see.” Beth walked up the stairs and into Mike’s bedroom. The temperature in the house was colder than usual. Part of that was due to Yuki’s magic. Their HVAC system was struggling with keeping the place warm, and Tink wasn’t around to smack it with a hammer, or whatever it was she typically did.

Just how much did the little goblin do? She was so incredibly efficient at her job that it was hard to accurately gauge what may be going wrong with the house.

When Beth stepped into the bedroom, she could hear Naia singing from the bathroom. The nymph was lounging in the water-filled tub, her eyes closed as she sang happily to herself.

"You're in a good mood." Beth sat at the edge of the tub.

"Don't tell anyone, but..." Naia's sapphire eyes opened and she smiled. "I'm faking it."

"Faking it?"

"Trying to keep my mind off of...that." Naia gestured toward the closest window. "It's been a while since I've been forced to stay inside. I don't really care for the amount of potential violence waiting for me outside, and I really don't like the idea of having to hide inside my spring. These last few years have been far too interesting for my taste in terms of the dangers we've seen."

"Do you regret it?" asked Beth. "Choosing Mike?"

Naia's eyes sparkled. "Not in the slightest. This home has seen more love in the last couple of years than all others combined...I think." The nymph put a finger to her lips as if lost in thought. "I guess I can only assume. It's more of a feeling I get than something I can prove."

"Right." Memories of the house were locked after a Caretaker passed. At least, they were until certain conditions were met. "Speaking of stuff you can't remember, Mike saw a vision of a Caretaker named Natalie."

"Oh?" Naia sat up, her full breasts causing ripples in the water as she moved. "What did he see?"

Beth explained the vision that Nyx had shown to Mike. At one point, Naia's features had lit up in recognition, and she nodded her head.

Once Beth was finished, Naia spoke. "Natalie had an agreement with a powerful vampyr named Vincentius. He claimed to be a player in the game called the Conqueror and asked her for sanctuary. At the time, she was under the impression that the path to power came from bringing more cryptids into her care, so agreed to help him hide the magical mirror that led to Avalon beneath Machnaimh Abbey in exchange for the Abbey itself. She thought it would be some loophole where anyone inside of Vincentius’ pocket world would count toward her total and that the Geas’ protection would then extend to the Abbey.”

“Not a bad idea,” Beth commented.

“During that era, there were humans still living at the Abbey. They were employed by Vincentius, or rather they were held under his thrall. Natalie was able to talk with them and realized after some time that the power she might achieve by “hosting” Vincentius was very much against her nature as a Caretaker and might actually prevent her from winning the game."

"And so she tried to take him out?" asked Beth.

"Her plan failed spectacularly," Naia said. "Though he seemed to be a false player in the game, he is extremely powerful. Therefore, her backup plan was to take Merlin's tower. Maybe she’d find something to make her powerful enough to even the odds later on."

Beth let out a sigh. "Do you know how she got home?"

Naia shook her head. "No, but we may be able to find out." She patted the water. "Want to sift through the memories with me?"

"We can do that?" asked Beth. "I thought you could only share memories with Mike?"

"Technically, the Caretaker, but..." The nymph giggled. "He recognizes you as an equal and potential successor. We've bent so many rules that I half expect the Architect to return and yell at us."

"Unless they wanted us to," added Beth. She was already slipping out of her clothes. Yeah, she could just use magic to dry herself, but clothing wasn't designed to be comfortable in water.

"I hadn't considered that." Naia held up a hand to assist Beth into the tub. Once Beth was immersed in the warm water, Naia sank beneath the waves and reappeared underneath Beth, holding her so that the back of Beth's head rested between her breasts.

"Do you think the recliner industry would be upset to learn how comfortable this is?" asked Beth. "If La-Z-Boy would just put boobs on their headrest, they'd bankrupt everybody else."

"People are weird about boobs," said Naia. "But I'm glad you've learned to appreciate them."

"Well..." Beth blushed. She was suddenly aware of the lithe body pressed up against hers. "I...uh...forgot what I was going to say."

"Then stop trying." Watery hands worked on massaging the tension out of Beth's arms and legs. "This will work a lot better if you relax. Soul magic is always easiest when everyone is calm."

Beth closed her eyes and let out a sigh of satisfaction as Naia's fingers went to work. For a bit, she wondered if the gentle strokes and caresses might turn into something more. However, it didn't take long before she entered a semi-slumber, one where it felt like she was going to fall asleep at any moment.

One second, she was in the bathtub. The next, she was in a state of freefall, her stomach lurching upward through her stomach.

"Whoa!" Beth sat up with a start. She was back in the tub. "What the hell was that?"

"Where the memory starts," said Naia. "Lie back down. It seems like seeing this will be a little rough."

"That's one way of putting it," muttered Beth. It took her even longer this time to relax, and she almost snapped out of the memory again once the sensation of free-fall hit her body. At first, she was falling in a void. Eventually, the darkness melted away from her to reveal a large room. Based on the architecture of the stones, it was most likely the interior of Merlin’s tower.

"Yahoo!" The words came out of her mouth, and Beth realized that she was no longer in control of her body.

"That's because it's not your body," whispered Naia in her ear. "Right now, you are Natalie."

"This is hard," Beth replied. "I don't like not being in control."

"You are safe," Naia replied. "Just let this happen if you wish to watch it."

Taking three deep breaths to center herself, Beth let go.

---

Natalie was stuck in a state of freefall, her body hovering in the center of the hallway. Gravity, the harsh mistress that she was, was no longer functioning properly.

With a joyful laugh, Natalie bounced around the hallway by kicking off the walls. It reminded her very much of swimming in the small lake where she had grown up. Sadly, childhood had come to an end when her mother had decided that petticoats and makeup were far more important than her daughter's joy in the outdoors.

Was this how Abella felt all of the time? If so, why was the gargoyle usually so dour?

The only light in the hallway was supplied by a magical bubble which bounced around above her. Every time it hit a surface, the light changed color, all of them pastels.

Eventually, Natalie tired of kicking her way along the hall and found herself floating in the middle of it. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, leatherbound notebook.

"Okay, let me see..." She studied her notes. Arcane symbols had been scrawled across the paper, several of them glowing only when she looked directly at them. "It looks like...darn. I can't take the whole tower, can I?"

The plan had been a simple one on the outside. She had originally intended to trap Vincentius and his brood in one of the spare towers and drop the whole thing into a hole, but Naia had pointed out a major flaw in that particular plan. If the fall didn't actually kill Vincentius, then she would be stuck in Avalon until the vampyr eventually starved to death, which could be centuries.

The older a vampyr, the longer they could live without food. Vincentius was one of the oldest ones, maybe even their progenitor, and she didn't want to spend the rest of her life stuck in a prison of his making.

However, the spell that she intended to use to bond part of this tower to her home had a serious limitation. While Natalie had done some early math to figure out how much of the tower she could steal, her own upbringing had lacked a proper mathematical education. That, coupled with the fact that she had underestimated the size of the tower, meant that she was only now aware that her spell would be insufficient to take any more than the top of the tower.

"Oh well," she muttered, letting go of the journal and watching it float away. She stuck a hand in her pocket and pulled out a measuring tape. It wasn't like she didn't have plenty of time to figure out exactly how much magic would be required to make this happen.

A quick measurement along with the realization that she had forgotten to account for the thickness of the exterior walls had her fuming. That, and the windows had started to frost over. Wherever this hole went, it certainly wasn't warm. Already, the air had taken on a chill that pervaded everything.

"At least I’m not going to land in Hell," she muttered. Now that was a miserable place! The one time she had been there, the screaming had really been unnerving.

After doing some more math and properly accounting for the third dimension, she realized that no amount of wishing things were different would allow her to take anything other than the top room of the tower. Sadly, it was blocked off by a set of double doors with some sort of mechanism holding it shut.

The door itself was decorated with symbols for the different planets and some stars she didn’t recognize. There were five turnable gears, each one a different color, and a single handle in the middle to turn them. In the center of the doors was a column where the symbols could be rotated through, making the door very much like a cryptex. Without the password, she wouldn’t be able to get in.

She turned a gear and watched as the symbols changed. Each gear seemed to control two different symbols, so even if she knew the right password, figuring out how to put it in was an obnoxious mess. She turned a few gears until she had a random password inputted, then wedged herself against the floor to pull the lever that was located in the door itself.

An icy chill spread through her body as a series of interlocking blades hidden in the door’s design blossomed like a lotus flower, revealing a glowing gemstone that hummed with energy. Natalie immediately leapt out of the way as a powerful wave of force fired out of the door, causing the tower to shake and tilt.

“Fuck that,” she muttered, her ears ringing.

After pondering the door and probing it with magic, Natalie took a break and searched the rest of the tower for anything of value. Merlin's tower was largely empty, though she did find a few tomes bouncing around that seemed like they might hold some value. The wizard's bedroom had become a proper mess, the featherdown bed having ruptured and its pillows filling the room to the point that the doorway erupted with them upon opening it. Whatever the wizard had been trying to hide from the rest of the world, it was definitely locked up in that observatory of his.

Several hours passed as she floated through the tower in frustration.

---

“Naia?” Beth’s awareness surfaced in her own body, but she kept her eyes closed. “Is there any way to skip ahead? I’m worried that her memories are quite a bit longer than this. I don’t want to spend days inside of her head just…waiting for the next part to happen.”

Naia giggled. “Yes, give me a moment and I think we can do that.”

---

Frustrated by her lack of progress and food, Natalie was forced to spend the next few days studying nothing but that damned door. Several of the tower windows had cracked from the cold, frost forming and becoming thick on the inside. Natalie was using her magic to keep warm on the top floor, which was another potential issue. Would she starve first or freeze to death?

Natalie wasn't worried about water. She was not only yanking condensation out of the air, but had forced her body to hold in as much as possible. This was a tactic that had served her well while hunting spirits in the desert, and would keep her alive here.

Her journal was now attached to a string, the thread looped around her wrist. Two days ago, she had spent the better part of an afternoon trying to find it as it bounced around the tower.

Also, how was this pit bottomless? Vincentius had always been cagey about why it was here. She wondered if he had fucked up the spell that had brought all of his castle here to Avalon. The man had figured out how to merge them together, but spatial magic was often very tricky. She rarely messed with spatial magic at a level this large, other than when she had merged that broken world to the greenhouse behind her home.

"Why won't you open!" she yelled and gave the door of Merlin's office a kick. This served to send her bouncing backward across the hallway where several bubble lights now flickered. Natalie had stuck them there in an attempt to create a bed to sleep in.

She should have brought one of the fairies with her. Even their inane chatter would be preferable to the constant whooshing sound the tower now played like a massive flute. The whole structure now thrummed with the sound, having settled into whatever position it now fell in. Natalie likened it to a flute falling down a well, and had drawn several pictures of it in her journal.

Over the last several days, she had been left with only one option: to enter every possible code she could think of while dodging that magical blast. The process had been sped up greatly by the fact that her precognition was triggering just a moment sooner. Just as she started to pull the lever, that cold feeling in her gut warned her to back off and change to a different symbol.

Her notebook was packed with many different variations, she had already tried hundreds, maybe even thousands. It was mind numbing work that had her so dead to the world that she almost didn’t register the moment she grabbed the lever and her sixth sense said nothing.

Upon pulling the lever, the star signs actually started rotating on their own, the mechanism resetting itself as the double doors swung open.

"Aha!" Natalie kicked off the floor and floated into the room. Up above, the gears of the colossal telescope had come loose, all of them floating around the room. Books, scrolls, and magical implements bounced around, the room absolutely saturated with mana.

"Finally," Natalie muttered, her fingers trembling as she pulled out her measuring tape. Over the course of several hours, she meticulously mapped out the size of the room, stopping only once when she realized that she could somehow see stars outside of the observatory's roof.

"Spatial magic," she muttered, wondering if she should just crawl out that window and find a way home from there. Wherever that opening went might have a place she could link with her house and allow her to go back and forth.

However, she realized that was mainly hunger talking. Her stomach was its own bottomless void right now. How was she supposed to know that she should have packed more snacks for stealing a tower?

“I just need to teleport a magical tower falling down a bottomless pit back to my house before I starve to death is all,” she muttered. “Just typical 19th century girl stuff.”

Even now, she was dying to know what was inside of all of the books floating around. This place was likely a reservoir for knowledge that hadn't been seen in centuries, and that included the Library. Maybe Natalie could trade that snotty cyclops some books for the privilege of being allowed to come back to the Library. The Head Librarian had been extremely angry after Natalie had lost the books she had borrowed without checking them out the correct way.

"Uppity bitch," Natalie muttered to herself. It took her the better part of six hours to use a piece of chalk to inscribe arcane runes along the floor, walls, and ceiling. Several of them were already thrumming with power in an attempt to link to their sister runes that were inscribed on the roof of her house.

One of her favorite things to do was to stitch parts of other places to her own home. The journal left behind by the Architect spelled out the process quite clearly, and it had been easy enough for even a beginner like her to do so.

However, doing so in a free-falling room had been a far bigger challenge than she expected. Just the act of drawing on the floor would cause her to drift away, which meant she was constantly using magic to stabilize her body. She was hungry, grouchy, and just wanted to go home.

“Stupid fucking vampyr,” she muttered to herself as she continued drawing her sigils. The language was quite unladylike, but she didn’t really give a shit. A week spent in solitude with nobody to talk to or fuck had driven her up the wall. “When I get home, I’m gonna lay in that bathtub and have Naia eat me until I black the fuck out.”

After what felt like days, she finished the diagram that encompassed the room. There were way faster methods of doing this, but that required a location that held still. If she had done everything correctly, then she would be home very shortly.

If not, the house would be looking for a new successor. Natalie wasn’t quite ready to find her own replacement yet. She had a personal theory that doing so actually was a secret rule that caused you to stop progressing in the Great Game. After this worked, she could spend the next decade or so going through the powerful works of Merlin himself.

The room lit up from within, the magical circuit completed. Natalie floated toward the center of the floor where she had drawn a small handprint in chalk. This wasn’t part of the rune itself. Instead, this was just to remind her of where her hand went.

Tumbling through the sky in a broken tower, she spoke the magic words.

“There’s no place like home,” she said, pushing her will into the runes. Across the universe, the other half of the runes would blaze with light, then snatch this building (or what was left of it) away to attach to her property. Giggling like a proper madman, Natalie watched the magic take hold as the entire surface of the room glowed bright green.

And just like that, the room stopped falling. Natalie slammed into the floor so hard that it felt like she had burst. Up above, the machinery for the telescope let out a heavy groan as the gearworks ruptured, showering her with jagged metal. She tried to scream, but the breath had been forced from her body in the collision.

The magic may have snatched away the top of Merlin’s tower, but spatial magic was tricky. Natalie had failed to account for the fact that the contents of the room were in freefall. So while the structure was intact with no real sign of damage, everything in the room had continued its downward motion.

Blood bubbled from Natalie’s lips as she fought to breathe. Her magic had protected her from bursting like a bag of water, but just barely. If she had any hopes of survival, she’d need to—

“Well this is unexpected.” The voice was soft, almost childlike. Natalie tried to turn her head, but couldn’t. Instead, she sent out a pulse of magic like a bat’s sonar and discovered that something was now sitting on the barrel of the telescope. The creature slid down the tube as if it were a slide, followed by a strange flutter as it met the ground.

“Hello, friend…” was all Natalie could muster. The creature moved around the room, but never quite stepped where she could see it.

“Merlin is going to be most upset,” it said. Natalie realized after a moment that the thing wasn’t actually speaking a language she could understand with her ears. Somehow, the speech was intelligible inside her mind. “That’s assuming he’s even still alive. I haven’t seen him recently, and time is strange for me. Oh, oh! I can actually feel time flowing around me, what a strange sensation. Is this what a rock feels like inside a river? Which direction is upstream? I’m having some trouble figuring out what hasn’t happened yet.”

“Plea…” Natalie couldn’t get enough air. It felt like the room was still spinning.

The creature walked over to her. “It seems like you have sustained some sort of damage.” A soft, furry hand caressed the back of her neck. “I foresee you will live, but only just. I have seen it. Or I am seeing it. Am I seeing what I’m seeing, or just seeing what I’ll see later? Wow, what fun!”

Natalie’s thoughts tumbled as the creature walked around the room. It was completely silent. The few times she was able to see it, the thing was hunched over and she only got a look at the cloak it wore. It looked like a pair of wings.

“Don’t think me heartless,” the creature said. “The people who find you are very combative. If I were to drag you out of here in your current condition, they will assault me. I’m afraid my visage is quite unsettling and open to interpretation.” The entity knelt by her once more. “And I apologize to those riding along in your mind right now. I’m sure they’re uncomfortable, too.”

“Who?” A single word question was all she could manage.

“Who, indeed? I come from the furthest place possible, yet it is simultaneously no distance at all. I am an acquaintance of the one you know as Merlin and was simply curious about the noise coming from his tower. He allows me to study the exterior, you see. I broke a rule by coming inside without his permission, but now I wonder if he no longer exists to grant it.” There was a long pause, followed by a chuckle. “Also, I’m aware that you were asking who is in your head. They already know who they are and will find my current answer far more enlightening.”

If Natalie could breathe, she would be panicking. Outside the room, she heard shouting, followed by a pounding sound.

“Ah, yes. You closed and locked that door before transport, didn’t you?” The creature moved away from her. “I’m afraid that you will be unable to open it again. Your brain has suffered some sort of trauma and pattern recognition will be a struggle in the future. I’m going to open it and sneak out while they come in to save your life. But I want you to know that I mean no harm. After all, I’m just a visitor, unlike my hungrier brethren.”

“Ga…” Natalie spit up some more blood.

The creature walked into her field of view and turned to face her, its head twisting around as if on a swivel. All she could make out were its glowing red eyes as she lost consciousness.

---

Beth let out a scream as she surfaced from the memory, gasping for air and tearing at her chest. She could still feel the phantom agony of broken bones and ruptured innards.

“It’s okay!” Naia shouted, grabbing onto Beth to keep her from slipping out from between her thighs. Beth’s magic ignited, causing the water to explode and go everywhere. Naia quietly held her in place, then drew the water back into the tub.

“What was that?” Beth demanded. Even now, those glowing red eyes seemed to be looking at her across time. “That thing!”

“I don’t know,” Naia replied, shushing Beth and stroking her hair like a child. “I really have no idea. There are no further memories of it, and Natalie never thought of it again.”

“Did she…”

“Die? Not from that.” Naia smiled wistfully. “Her memories are small patches after that. She did survive, but never quite recovered her mental faculties. She dreamt often of those eyes, but it was like a night terror. Something she rarely remembered in her waking hours.”

Beth shivered. Even now, her brain was trying to comprehend exactly what she saw, and her glance was brief at best. The temperature of the bath felt much colder than usual, and she sent some mana into it in an attempt to warm up.

“You’re not actually cold,” Naia said. “I promise the temperature is fine. What we just saw, it’s…unsettling.”

“It also isn’t useful,” Beth replied. “Unless you know how to do the magic that she did, I could do some of it here and Mike could do the rest there.”

“That is one option,” Naia replied. “Which, frankly, may be easier than the other.”

“Killing Vincentius?”

The nymph nodded. “We need to let Mike know right away. Or, rather, let Kisa know so that she can inform him. This is such a mess.”

“We should send somebody,” said Beth. “Yuki. Abella. Maybe even Ratu.”

“I don’t know that we could safely get anybody there,” said Naia. “I wouldn’t put it past the Fae to have somebody waiting right next to that mirror in the hopes of taking one of ours.”

“But it’s our property,” Beth protested. “Or, rather, it’s Mike’s. Ours by extension. I’m not really sure how the Fae will see that.”

“They’ll see it in whatever light they decide best portrays their best interests. And should Yuki, Ratu, or Abella accidentally spend a hundred years from our perspective in the Fae realm being questioned for what feels like only a few minutes to them, that wouldn’t constitute as harm, now would it? But it would seriously fuck us over.”

Grumbling, Beth stood and stepped out of the tub. Her legs felt weak beneath her. “You know, I’m always a bit wobbly when I get out of here,” she said. “This is the first time it wasn’t any fun.”

“You could always come back later.”

Beth smirked. “Maybe,” she replied. “I feel like there are more important things than getting laid right now. I need to prevent the Fae from stealing our children while rescuing the man of the house from a vampyr’s pocket dimension. You know, twenty-first century girl stuff.”

The nymph giggled, then stopped and cocked her head to one side, her ears growing larger. “What’s that tapping sound?”

Beth heard it now, too. At first, she thought maybe the sink had a leak and was dripping, but realized the sound was coming from more than one location. Puzzled, she walked out into Mike’s bedroom and stopped when she saw a pair of dark figures at the window.

Both of them were tapping on the glass. Through the condensation on the glass, she could make out their wicked smiles at the sight of her, which made her remember that she was still naked. Ignoring them, she got dressed and walked out into the hall.

The whole house was filled with tapping. Rats scurried everywhere in a panic, clearly waiting for instructions that hadn’t come yet. The fairy girls zipped about, and Cerulea paused in midair when she noticed Beth.

“I saw a Fae trying to get in through the window!” she shouted.

“Which window?” asked Beth.

“All of them!” Cerulea wiggled in midair. “Do I get the big prize?”

“We can talk later.” Already, the tapping was growing louder. Down below, she heard Abella cry out in agony. She imagined those taps sounded like a hammer on steel to her. “I need to talk to Kisa. Tell the others we’re about to have a family meeting.”

“Prizes, prizes, prizes!” Cerulea shot off like a rocket, leaving a blue glitter trail behind her. Beth had no way of knowing if she would follow orders, but that was a later problem. She pulled out her cellphone and started writing one massive text to Eulalie.

***

Mike stood on a small stool with his arms stuck out to the side while a man named Taylor took his measurements. Taylor had a bolt of black fabric draped over each shoulder, the only difference between the two being the sheen.

“You are much taller than anyone living in the village.” Taylor grinned up at him with a few straight pins dangling from his lips. He stood and turned to his apprentice, a younger man named Taylor Jr. The younger Taylor handed him a jacket from a small wooden wardrobe that the teen had carried in on his back. “It’ll be a challenge to have something ready by tomorrow, but the good kind.”

“Uh huh.” Mike had actually said very little to the man, but not out of unkindness. Taylor was holding up the conversation for everybody present.

“I attribute it to the limited diet in the village, but people tell me I think too much. But that’s how I’ve been ever since I was a kid. Always asking questions.” Taylor threw the coat over Mike’s shoulders and moved behind him. “Huh. I thought I would have to pin this in a bit. The only person with broader shoulders than you is the Caretaker himself.”

“Really?” At the mention of Vincentius, Mike’s left eyelid twitched.

“Yeah. I’ve been dressing him ever since I was a young boy.”

This caught Mike’s attention. Upon returning to his tower suite, he had met up with Sofia and learned about something that the vampyr referred to as the Culling. The very short version of that story was that Natalie showed up and ruined the guy’s whole century. Back then, the people in the village were treated more like the cattle that they were. Natalie, being a true Caretaker, let slip some stories of Earth. It wasn’t a wasteland, nor would the people be hunted there. She also told the village elders what their true purpose was. Their Lord didn’t just rule by fear. He was eating them.

Naturally, when Natalie left with Merlin’s tower, Vincentius exploded. The villagers came to him with demands, he had Lady Charlotte round up all the pre-teen children and she kept them isolated in the church while he and the other vassals wiped out the adult population. A memory spell altered what the gargoyles knew. Those who were unaffected were shattered and tossed into the void.

Seeing an opportunity, Vincentius did what any man in power did after fucking up and getting called out for it: he rebranded. All the stories he knew about Natalie as the Caretaker became his own, and Lady Charlotte had been forced to teach the children that when they got older, they would Ascend. Whether to Heaven or back to Earth, the phrasing didn’t matter.

Right now, the vampyr were eating their flock as slowly as possible in the hopes of surviving until the villager population increased. It was far easier to keep the villagers in line by making them believe they had some enigmatic divine purpose beyond.

In short, Vincentius had managed to learn that it was far easier to attract flies with honey than vinegar. Taking on the identity of the person who had fucked him over so badly instead of just making up his own story was probably something that a psychologist would be interested in writing a paper on.

There was a knock on the door. TJ walked over to open it.

“Hello, Lady Charlotte!” TJ stepped away from the door to allow the woman to follow him in. The woman studied Mike appreciatively for a moment, then turned her gaze up the stairs.

“I assume that your assistant is upstairs?” she asked the tailor.

Taylor nodded. “My daughter Taylor is with them.”

Mike said nothing. Apparently, Taylor the tailor had taken the idea of a family name extremely seriously. His own father had been named Taylor, though the man really didn’t remember much about his dad. He did, however, remember the plague that wiped out a bunch of people, sparing only the children who were locked in a church and praying for salvation.

Fucking vampyrs. Or was it just vampyr? He didn’t know.

Taylor the third, or whatever her nickname was, was currently upstairs measuring Sofia and Cecilia for their dresses. Cerberus could apparently alter her own dress to some degree, which was actually quite useful, because Taylor had no idea how to design a neckline for three heads and an extra boob.

Honestly, the man was doing pretty well for himself, considering everything he knew about making clothes was from what he had been taught by his parents as a child.

Charlotte walked up the stairs, leaving Mike with the two Taylors and Sulyvahn. The dullahan was sitting on a nearby couch with a smirk on his face.

“Ye look right and proper,” he said. “Or ye will once that coat gets fitted.”

“You’re next,” Taylor commented as he brushed some dust and lint off of Mike’s jacket. “Actually, TJ can start measuring you right now.”

“I’m not one fer suits,” said Suly. He unconsciously tugged at one of his buckles. “I’m sorta built to come in one package.”

“The Caretaker wants everyone to match,” Taylor countered. “You can take it up with him.”

Sulyvahn grumbled as he watched TJ pull out a small stool. The dullahan stepped onto it and waited patiently as TJ pulled out his own measuring tape and started taking measurements.

Taylor, who was using a piece of chalk to mark the suit jacket, gestured for Mike to take it off. He put the jacket back on its hangar and stuck it in the wardrobe.

Over the next half hour, Taylor spoke at length about the outfit he was designing for tomorrow night’s celebration. Mike stuck with single syllable answers, his mind officially wandering elsewhere. Not long before the village tailors had arrived, Kisa had notified him that he had two options for going home. One involved trying to learn something called spatial magic, which would allow him to try and rip a part of the castle away and stitch it to his house. This would require both him and Beth to somehow coordinate the whole affair using Kisa as an intermediary. That was also assuming they could find a reliable source which, once again, would have to be passed through cat radio.

The other option was to kill a centuries-old, extremely powerful vampyr and his tribe, cloister, or whatever the fuck you called a group of vampyr. Was this a nest? Or was the castle a nest, and the vampyr inside—

“Lord Radley?” Taylor held up a hand. “I said you can get down.”

Mike stepped off the stool without taking the man’s hand. “I’m curious. The Lady Nyx is not here. Will the Caretaker take offense if she is not properly attired?”

Taylor flinched. “The, uh, Lady Nyx informed me this morning that she would make her own dress. After demonstrating her abilities to manipulate her clothing, I explained what was expected of her for this event. She was very…persuasive.”

Mike snorted. “Of course she was.” He wasn’t entirely sure what all she had been up to whenever she dropped into the village. She had disappeared shortly after learning about the Culling from Sofia and the others. His only hope was that whatever Nyx was working on would somehow be beneficial to his family and not just herself. “So how often do you all have celebrations like this?”

“This specifically? None that I can remember.” Taylor smiled wistfully. “The Caretaker does attend all of our weddings and baptisms, though. He has a vested interest in our families, and even knows each of us by name.”

“That’s ‘cause you lot have the same names,” muttered Sulyvahn. The dullahan was now draped beneath several different fabrics. “How many other Taylors does the village have?”

“I’m the only tailor,” Taylor replied.

Sulyvahn rolled his eyes. “Now I understand why the others get so mad. I don’t even think this ‘un is doin’ it on purpose.”

“How many people named Taylor?” Mike asked.

“Ah. Myself, my son, my daughter, and one more at home.”

“Ye’ve named all yer kids Taylor?”

“And one named Cooper,” said Taylor. “He’s already apprenticing with—”

“A man named Cooper?” asked Mike.

Taylor chuckled. “Wrong again. Cooper is working with a man named Fisher. They’re working together on a method to better preserve fish in a barrel.”

Sulyvahn opened his mouth to say something, but Mike held up a hand in warning.

“Down this road lies only madness,” he said.

Sulyvahn considered Mike’s words, then nodded. “Aye. Best to just let it be.” He looked down at TJ, who was holding out a coat for him to try on. The dullahan sighed and slid it on. “I’m not used to wearin’ finery.”

“It’s just for one afternoon, you’ll live.” Mike chuckled, remembering all the times he’d been forced to wear a tie as a kid. He couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable the dullahan would be with what amounted to an extra layer of clothing.

It would be the same way with Cecilia. He looked upstairs, wondering how things were going for her and Sofia. There was another knock on the door, followed by a trio of servants entering. They were carrying baskets of food which they arranged on one of the tables.

No, not servants. Thralls. Last night, Sofia had explained to him that thralls came in many forms, but these ones seemed to be little more than walking husks dedicated to taking care of the premises and watching out for potential danger. The men and women working in the castle seemed older than the villagers, which made him wonder if some of them had been around during the Culling.

For modern day vampires, thralls came in a bunch of different flavors, sometimes literally. They could be mind-controlled, addicted to being drained, or even in a symbiotic relationship of sorts. There was no shortage of ways for a vampire to do this.

However, the vampyr of old were different. These thralls had been depleted on a spiritual level, their souls barely sparkling in their chests. Mike wondered now if Vincentius was literally eating their souls. Based on what he had seen yesterday, this was very much a possibility.

He wished he could ask Lily about it. The succubus ate souls, but they were trapped inside of her metaphorical stomach for an eternity of torment. This was something he tried not to think of often, especially in regards to who she may have consumed prior to coming into his life.

But what worried him more was the idea that Vincentius could actually be digesting and destroying them. Learning that souls were real and that there was an afterlife was perhaps the most important bit of knowledge he had learned since inheriting his home. Wars were literally fought over what people believed happened after death, and he thought it an absolute tragedy that something as precious as an eternity of peace could be stolen away from people.

Damn. Now he wished he could talk to Death about it and see what the Reaper thought about the whole affair.

The thralls finished setting up the food just as Lady Charlotte appeared on the balcony above. Her hair had been pulled up into a bun above her head, revealing her slender neck. Mike couldn’t help but stare a bit, wondering if that was where Vincentius had bitten her. He had so many questions he wanted to ask, but couldn’t because of that damned dark tendril that followed Charlotte around.

He noticed the same darkness shadowing the thralls, but to a lesser extent. Mike imagined that it was this way because nobody was really talking to the servants. That, and the thralls were less independent. They would absolutely report anything unsavory to their master.

The thralls left, leaving Charlotte still standing up above him. Taylor and TJ, finished with Suly’s measurements, went upstairs and knocked on the door where the women were being measured. They were invited in and closed the door behind them.

“Alone at last,” muttered Charlotte as she let out a sigh. The dark tendril above suddenly latched onto her and she stiffened at its touch.

“Now that lunch is here, we must speak on what to expect at tomorrow night’s party.” She walked toward the stairs, a far off look in her eye. “There will be some light snacks provided and dancing. The Caretaker would like you to interact with the villagers, particularly the young women.”

Mike narrowed his eyes. “Why?” he asked.

“He wishes you to familiarize yourself with the people you will be spending the rest of your life with.” She raised a hand to cut off his protest. “I know that you have thoughts on this matter, but arguing them with me is pointless. It will be far more beneficial for you to wait until the Caretaker explains what he wants of you. Who knows? You may even like it.”

Charlotte’s words sounded hopeful, but her face betrayed her disgust. Her fingers were already writing something on her slate, and he wasn’t surprised to see that she had written an apology. She was at the bottom of the stairs now, and wrote something else on the tablet.

Do you have a plan to escape? it said.

“What on earth could Vincentius offer me that would make me want to stay?” he asked, then took the tablet from her and wrote a message of his own.

Maybe. He knew what he needed to do, but not necessarily how he was going to do it.

“That’s not for me to say,” she replied, then gestured at the table. “You look hungry. Why don’t you eat?” Charlotte took the slate back and wrote on it.

Will it hurt the villagers? Out of every potential problem, Charlotte was the most worried about the people she saw as her children.

“Only if you join me.” He pointed at her slate and shook his head. Unless Vincentius commanded the villagers to attack him, he had no plan to hurt them. At least they weren’t mindless thralls, and none of them seemed to be fighters, either.

Mike looked at the food that had been brought in as he sat. At the center of the table was a large earthenware bowl heaped with baked apples, their skins split and glistening with honey and cinnamon. Two small pies had also been prepared with Avalon’s apples.

To one side, a steaming pot of apple pottage awaited ladling, thick with barley and onions, the apples having softened into the broth to create a hearty base. Beside it sat a round of dark bread, accompanied by a crock of apple butter. Two modest egg dishes anchored either end of the table - a baked custard speckled with diced apples and nutmeg, and a flat herb omelet cooked with shredded apple and wild onions.

There were apple fritters fried in butter, sprinkled with precious sugar. A wooden platter held slices of hard cheese alongside dried apple rings, their edges curled and browned. The food looked delicious, and his stomach growled. He had barely eaten any breakfast this morning.

“As you wish.” Charlotte took a seat right next to him.  While Mike picked at some of the food, she once again launched into her sales pitch about the village, rambling on about the individual people there. It didn’t take long before Vincentius turned his attention elsewhere. Maybe it was out of boredom, or the dude needed to go clean his fucking coffin.

The moment the tendril vanished, Charlotte let out a sigh of relief. “Let us be quick,” she whispered. “I don’t know when he’ll listen in again.”

“Obnoxious little fucker.” Mike looked over at Suly. “Be ready for Operation: Smokescreen.”

The dullahan gave him a thumbs up with a wide smirk on his face.

“It’ll make sense later,” Mike said. “So what do you need to tell me.”

“I assume you saw everything yesterday?”

And more, he thought, remembering the premonition about being yanked through the wall. “I did. It wasn’t good.”

She shook her head. “It is not. He has already selected several young women from the village to entice you into staying. Taylor’s wife is taking their measurements and prepping dresses for them right now. The Caretaker may have hinted that you are eligible to be married.”

Mike was about to laugh it off when something occurred to him. This place was like a time capsule straight out of…well, whatever year Vincentius had arrived. “When you say young women, how old are we talking?”

Lady Charlotte gave him a severe look. “Does their youth…interest you?”

He shook his head vehemently. “Gods, no! When you say women, I picture someone who looks like, well, you. Or roughly my own age. Not…whatever age they are.” Mike was suddenly horrified about the idea of Vincentius trying to play matchmaker for him at what would be the equivalent of a High School dance. “Back on Earth, we highly encourage adults to, well, date only other adults. We’ve been pretty progressive about stuff like that since the late 1800s.”

The vampyr let out a sigh of relief. “I always see them as children, even when they have grandkids of their own. I’m their primary mother figure, after all. But you have to realize that they are seen as no more than breeding stock to…the others. Galahad and I have been responsible for identifying particular pairings. Those who are unable to reproduce are rarely allowed to wed, and only kept around if their work benefits the village.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Charlotte picked up an apple from the table and bit into it, the juices flowing freely down her chin. “I think you know,” she replied.

“Fuck.” He picked up a napkin and held it out to Charlotte. “Yeah, if you could pass word along to your boss that I’m into mature women only, that would be appreciated.” At the very least, it would be way less awkward.

“Does that mean…you’re…interested in his offer?” Charlotte seemed confused.

“No, I’m not interested. I want to go home.” He waved the napkin, which she had yet to accept. She took it from him cautiously, and he felt a tiny spark of magic leap from his hand to hers. Charlotte’s eyes widened, and she ended up dropping the napkin.

“I see,” she said. Her cheeks turned pink.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Um…” Her face twisted up. “It is. Ever since what happened yesterday, I—”

“You’re going to have to narrow that down,” Mike replied.

Charlotte cleared her throat. “When we…brushed against each other.”

“Ah.” Yeah, he remembered that. “My magic has that effect on people.”

She nodded. “Well, it’s not entirely your magic. When I came here many years ago, it was to heal my body. I was so sick when I was younger that I missed out on the opportunity to be courted, or partake in…things.”

“Yer sayin’ ye’ve never been bedded?” Sulyvahn spoke up, causing both of them to jump. Somehow, they had forgotten that he was even there.

Charlotte’s face turned bright red. “I lack experience,” she muttered. “Mike is really the first human male I’ve seen since…getting better. That I’ve been interested in, anyway.”

“Interested in?” Sulyvahn grinned. “Ye hear that, Mike? The lass is—”

“Stop teasing her.” Mike scowled at the dullahan. “This is clearly a sensitive subject.” At least now he understood why she had reacted so strongly to his magic. Poor thing didn’t stand a chance against it.

“Aye.” Sulyvahn seemed to realize just how uncomfortable Charlotte looked. “My apologies, lass.”

Charlotte waved him off. “When I first came here, the men were typical peasants. I don’t mean that in a derogatory sense. When I was first changed, I didn’t know what was going on. I feared being alone with anybody, that I might—”

The dark tendril snapped down from above, causing Charlotte to wince. Mike snapped his fingers the moment he saw it move, and Sulyvahn immediately launched into Operation: Smokescreen.

“This fella Rick, aye? He's like meself compared tae you, but a thousand times more powerful! A master o' craftin' impossible contraptions in his wee shed while drownin' himself in spirits and breakin' the hearts of his kin with harsh words and cold distance. He twists the very fabric o' reality with what ye might call devilry but is naught but knowledge beyond yer comprehension.

“And Rick's got this grandson Morty—saints preserve us, ye should see the lad! Shakin' like an aspen leaf in autumn wind, voice squeakin' higher than yer pigs at slaughter time. Rick drags the poor lad across endless worlds where they meet all manner o' strange beings. Imagine worlds where chairs sit on people instead o' people sittin' on chairs! Wrap yer porridge-filled skull around that one, if ye can!

“The whole family's a right proper mess, I tell ye. There's Beth, Rick's daughter, drownin' her sorrows in wine and cuttin' open sick horses for a livin'—aye, she mends horses, though I wager that's beyond yer understandin' when yer village shares one fella who pulls teeth and cuts hair with the same rusty tool.”

Charlotte just stared at Sulyvahn, her eyes gradually widening as the dullahan kept going. That dark vein attached to Charlotte pulsated silently as Vincentius continued to listen in for several minutes. The few times Charlotte made like she was going to interrupt, Mike put a finger to his lips and shook his head.

“There was even this tale where Rick transforms himself into a pickle—aye, a pickle!” Sulyvahn had picked up steam and was leaning forward in his chair, now. “Like a wee cucumber soaked in brine! He does this just tae avoid sittin' and talkin' about feelings with his family, then ends up in a bloody battle killin' rats before buildin' himself a suit made o' rat parts. That's the kind o' madness we're talkin' about!”

Vincentius disconnected. Mike barked a laugh and waved Sulyvahn off.

“He’s out for now,” Mike said. “We’re good.”

“What was that just now?” asked Charlotte. “That story was ludicrous.”

“It be a movin’ picture from Earth,” said Sulyvahn. “I be watchin’ that show with a gargoyle, if ye can believe it. My kind don’t sleep, so I be findin’ things to do at night.”

“Moving pictures?” Charlotte looked at Mike.

He nodded. “Television. The world is a very different place since you left it. But we can talk all about that later. Lady Charlotte, there is a very real possibility that my only way out of here is to… you know.” He mimed slicing off his own head, then jerked his thumb at the main castle.

Lady Charlotte sighed. “Many have tried,” she muttered. “Before the mirror was hidden from the rest of the world, he used to lure people here to fight him. If they lived, they were used as breeding stock. If not, well…”

“I can imagine,” Mike said. It was clear that Vincentius had quite the setup prior to Natalie’s interference. “Can you tell me why he was hiding here in the first place? That may give me a clue on how to defeat him.”

She shrugged. “Back when we first met him, he still traveled quite a bit. From what little I’ve overheard, he’s afraid of someone.”

“Who?”

Charlotte shook her head. “No idea. If the person has a name, he’s afraid to say it, almost like it's his own personal boogeyman. It was this woman he’s known for many years. She was fascinated by him, they had a mutual relationship of some kind. He would bring her offerings, usually alive, things that mortal men couldn’t catch. She would reward him with rare artifacts that she found on her travels.”

“That’s hardly ominous.” Mike scrunched up his forehead, deep in thought. “He was catching cryptids for her?”

She nodded. “Magic of any kind. She had an obsession.”

“So why the falling out?” asked Suly.

“That’s where I’m a bit confused. There was this man associated with the woman. Her son, a bodyguard, I don’t really know. Her hired muscle.” Charlotte leaned back in her seat and let out a sigh. “One day, the others show up, almost in a panic. It’s the only time I’ve seen him frightened. There was a nest near London, run by seven of the oldest and strongest of our kind. Most of them disappeared, the rest were killed in the process. It was the work of that guy. He was doing something with their bodies, but I’m not sure what.”

“That’s…” Mike blinked in surprise. “Wait. You don’t suppose it was Jack the Ripper, do you?”

“That’s a name I haven’t heard in many years.” Charlotte shrugged. “Maybe they’re the same, maybe they aren’t. I always chalked it up to one of our Caretaker’s…more interesting associates.”

“So why run? Why not stay and fight?”

Charlotte just shook her head. “Apparently this is a foe no man or beast can fight. He has superhuman strength, and—”

The dark tendril snapped down into position once more. Mike nearly groaned and just barely managed to signal Suly in time.

“The mother, now in her daughter's body, must attend the girl's school—a place where young mortals gather daily tae learn from teachers about all manner o' subjects. She struggles tae understand the ways o' young folk and their customs, while tryin' not tae cause trouble for her daughter's reputation.”

Suly leaned back in his seat and put his feet up on the table. “Meanwhile, the daughter in her mother's body must handle adult responsibilities: workin' at an important job, carin' for the household, and even preparin' for the mother's upcoming weddin' tae a new husband! Aye, in some versions, the mother is tae be married again, which brings even more complications tae their predicament.”

The tendril immediately switched away. Mike looked at Suly and laughed.

“Freaky Friday?” he asked.

“Yep. The one with the redhead.”

“Why are you having him do this and not you?” asked Charlotte.

“Your boss cares more about what I have to say,” Mike replied honestly. The door up above opened and the three Taylors waved to everyone as they descended the stairs.

“We’re off,” said Taylor, carrying bolts of fabric over his shoulder. “We shall return tomorrow with the gowns.”

TJ was busy carrying his father’s portable armoire, his face red from the effort. His sister Taylor fluttered her eyes at Mike as she walked past. Once the door was closed, Mike turned his attention to Charlotte.

“Heavily imply that I like mature women,” he said. “And by mature, I mean at least in their twenties.”

“I will,” she promised.

Sofia, Cerberus, and Cecilia came down to join them. The banshee seemed in better spirits than usual, but didn’t offer up any explanation for why. They sat at the table where Sofia and Cerberus began picking at the food.

“Okay, so figuring out who our mysterious boogeyman is won’t help us here,” said Mike. “So I guess my next question is what our options are? If it comes to a fight, who will help us?”

“None of the vassals,” Charlotte replied. “Should a fight occur, my brother is more likely to hide. He resents being trapped here and what has happened to us. As for Galahad, I don’t know. At times, he seems sympathetic to the plight of the villagers, but he feasts nonetheless.

“The other vassals will absolutely try to kill you, though. There’s enchanted armor in the castle that will fight, and the gargoyles are sworn to defend this place.”

“And you?” asked Sofia.

Charlotte’s head drooped. “I am no fighter. My natural strength makes me seem like one, but I have yet to feed from the living. I’ve sustained myself solely on the blood of animals or, when forced, the blood of a human who has already passed. This existence of mine is cursed, and I could not hope to contribute in a fight against anything stronger than the magical armor.”

“What if…” Sofia paused mid-sentence, then shook her head. “Nevermind.”

“No, tell us,” said Mike.

“You could let her feed on you,” said Sofia.

Sulyvahn winced. Mike couldn’t help but notice the spectral chains around his body tighten ever so slightly. “That’s risky, lass. Yer supposin’ Lady Charlotte can stop herself and not drain our friend dry. Or worse yet, make a thrall o’ ‘im.”

“He’s right,” said Charlotte. “I could not guarantee anything.”

“Let’s assume everything is on us, then.” Mike looked at Cerberus, their most likely heavy hitter versus the vampyr. Well, and the gargoyles. “What do we have?”

“Our wits,” said Sulyvahn. “Sofia’s blade. My chain.”

“What about the sword?” asked Cecilia. “The one in the stone?”

“Excalibur?” Mike raised an eyebrow. “That would rely entirely on someone being able to pull it out.” Thinking about it now, that was something he needed to speak with Nyx about next time they met. Could she tell him how to pull it? The blade was technically her responsibility, too. Maybe she could pull some Fae shenanigans that let him borrow it long enough to stick it in Vincentius.

“And even if ye could, then what?” Sulyvahn picked up a dagger on the table and stabbed it into the wood. “The sharpest blade does no good if ye can’t slip it in between somebody’s ribs.”

“Please don’t stab the table,” said Charlotte.

“Oops.” Sulyvahn yanked the knife free. Cecilia elbowed him.

“Suly does make a good point, though.” Mike dodged to the side to avoid the elbow that Sofia tried to hit him with. “That one was an accident,” he admitted.

“It better have been.” Sofia smirked at him and grabbed a nearby apple. “Otherwise, I’ll be forced to PUNish you later.”

The others booed the cyclops. Cerberus actually picked up a slice of cheese and threw it at her, causing it to stick to Sofia’s forehead.

Lady Charlotte laughed. The sound was unexpected, causing everyone to turn in her direction. Upon seeing that she had their attention, she promptly stopped and put a hand to her mouth, her features now even paler than usual.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “The mood was rather somber, and I—”

Suly tossed a piece of cheese of his own, causing it to spiral perfectly before landing on top of Lady Charlotte’s head. She sat there in complete shock until Mike pulled it off of her head.

“That may be too much fun for you, today,” he said. “We really shouldn’t be throwing—”

Lady Charlotte moved so fast that Mike barely saw it. She plucked up the remaining half of an apple pie and smashed it into Sulyvahn’s face from across the table, knocking his head clean off his body.

There was a long moment of silence, and then the room exploded with laughter. Suly played the part of the fool, his body purposely slipping and tripping in an effort to retrieve his head. Years of tension seemed to melt away from Charlotte’s eyes as she giggled at the dullahan’s antics.

This was a young woman who had been frozen in time and forced to endure much pain. When was the last time she had been able to let go so freely? Mike suddenly felt sorry for her, but didn’t want to admit it out loud. It seemed like Lady Charlotte was somewhat sensitive about her plight.

What would happen if he let her feed? Would she get stronger? Strong enough to fight Vincentius? Or maybe even his daughters? With the odds stacked so severely against him, why not take the chance to acquire a powerful new ally?

If she became a true vampyr, what sort of gift would he acquire from her? Would it be super strength of his own? Or perhaps the speed she possessed?

Suddenly aware of how his magic had uncoiled within him, Mike quickly shoved those thoughts down and away. Using Charlotte or anybody else as a path for his own power was non-negotiable. He had seen what it had done to Emily, and he knew the power would be even far more addictive for himself. It craved the changes he demanded as if it had a mind of its own.

“What is this?”

The laughter died and everyone turned to look at Nyx. Her gaze was judgmental as she scanned the room, then looked down on the floor where Suly’s head was.

“Beggin’ yer pardon,” he said. “I appear to have gotten ahead of myself.”

“Pull yourself back together,” she snapped. “You look like a fool.”

Mike saw those ethereal chains tighten across Sulyvahn, and the dullahan immediately obeyed. The dark mist spilling from his neck vanished as he snapped it back into place.

“Clean yourself up,” she demanded. “This is no way for an emissary of the Fae to be acting.”

“We were just havin’ a laugh, m’lady.” Sulyvahn withered under her glare.

“Because you are a joke.” Nyx turned her gaze toward Mike. “What is she doing here?” The Fae princess jabbed a finger in Charlotte’s direction.

“I should go,” said Charlotte as she stood. Vincentius’ vein had suddenly reattached itself, likely the result of Nyx’s sudden ire. “I will bring you an itinerary for tomorrow night in the morning.”

“Thank you, Lady Charlotte.” Mike walked her to the door and held it for her when she left. When he turned around, he saw Nyx glaring daggers at him. “Oh, good. You’re still here.”

“While I have been working, you have been engaging in frivolous behavior,” she said with a sneer, then flopped into a nearby chair.

“Getting information from Charlotte is hardly frivolous.” Mike crossed his arms. “You owe Suly an apology.”

“I refuse,” she said. “I owe him nothing.”

“She’s right, lad,” said Suly. “The Fae don’t apologize.”

Mike narrowed his eyes. Part of him wanted to put his foot down and demand that Nyx show at least some contrition for her comment, but knew the task to be foolish. While the Fae could be colossal assholes, a giant chunk of their behavior was the result of their programming.

For some reason, this idea tickled at the back of Mike’s brain, but he couldn’t figure out why. “What were you working on?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Many things,” she said. “I’ve been hunting for memories, that we may conquer our foe.”

“And?’ he asked.

“I may have some leads,” she replied. “Now tell me what you have accomplished.”

“We’ve itemized our skillset and done a full threat assessment,” said Sofia. “We know what we have and what we’re up against. Now we just need the right time or opportunity to make our move.”

“Which is?” Nyx arched an eyebrow.

“We’re still working on that part,” Mike admitted. “We have at least three vampyr to take out, possibly five. There are enchanted suits of armor throughout the castle—”

“Which I’ve seen,” Nyx interrupted. “They have been enchanted with the skills and abilities of those who came before. I shall examine them closer.”

“As shall I,” said Mike. “Which brings me to my last bullet point. What can you tell me about Excalibur?”

Nyx scoffed. “On the off chance that the blade sees you as worthy and allows you to pull it from the stone, it would weigh almost nothing and is unbreakable.”

“So it’s not on magical autopilot or something?”

Nyx pursed her lips. “No,” she said. “It relies on the strength of the wielder.”

“What does Mike need to be considered worthy?” asked Sofia.

Nyx leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers together. “He must earn the favor of my sisters.”

"What would it take to earn the favor of your sisters?" asked Mike. "Preferably by tomorrow, which would be four days your time."

Nyx tilted her head back and forth as if pondering the question, then let out a sigh. "I don't have a direct answer for you. The sword was a gift from the Lady of the Lake to Arthur Pendragon in order to be a symbol to his people that he was the rightful king. Sadly, he was only human after all, and failed to live up to our expectations.

"As a result of this, my sisters all agreed to hold its next wielder to an even higher standard. We require a near unanimous vote, and that means they would need to observe you first."

"Shit," Mike muttered. "So you're telling me that the sword can't decide if I'm worthy?"

"It's just a sword," said Nyx. "It holds no thoughts of its own. If King Arthur had given it to someone else to wield, they could have."

"I have a question," said Sofia. "Did Arthur pull it from a stone or was it given to him by the Lady of the Lake."

"The first sword wasn't Excalibur," Nyx replied. "Merlin put it there on our guidance to identify potential candidates."

“Ah, so it was Excalipoor,” Mike muttered.

Nyx’s face twisted into a grimace. “Do you delight in being deliberately asinine?”

“I call it being myself,” said Mike. "I like me. Do you know who put Excalibur back in the stone it is now?"

"No." Nyx shrugged. "I forgot to ask the stone."

"So the sword won't come out unless I have the unanimous approval of your sisters?" asked Mike. "You can't just grant it?"

"I cannot," she said. "Unless a higher authority dictates that you are worthy, it will not recognize you as its proper owner."

"Who qualifies as a higher authority?" asked Mike.

"Only the Queen." Nyx smirked. "You humiliated her in front of the entire Faerie Court, causing others to question her authority. Even now, others would see her replaced with a proper system of governance. She would never approve of you."

Mike arched an eyebrow. "Not even if I said please?"

Nyx laughed maniacally, holding her sides. The others waited several minutes for the outburst to subside.

"That is the funniest thing I've ever heard you say," she said. "Even if it meant her life, she couldn't arbitrarily assign you such a task. She would need to know your heart and soul on an intimate level and deem you worthy of her loyalty. That is not something you could accomplish with your silly Cat Radio."

Oh, you have no idea, Mike thought. "So what of the other vassals? Do you think you could fight them?"

"I don't fight wars with swords,” she replied. "Blades are for those with savage natures. I prefer words."

"Could you fight them with words?" asked Mike.

"Perhaps," she said. "I take it you have learned we can't escape without bloodshed?"

"I have," he replied.

"Good. Otherwise, it would have been boring." Nyx stood and brushed off her dress. "I must take my leave for now. After tomorrow night, Avalon will not be a safe place."

"Why do you say that?" asked Mike.

"Because Vincentius is going to demand something from you," she replied. "And no matter what your answer, he intends to grind you beneath his thumb. I must be ready to act at a moment's notice. I have sown many seeds in our brief time here, and intend to harvest the fruits of my labor."

"Okay, well, have fun."

"I usually do." Nyx got up and walked to the closest window to sit on the sill. She licked her lips at Mike as she opened the window and then fell out to be carried off by the wind.

"So dramatic," Mike muttered as he got up to close the window. "Edgy, too."

"She is cruel," muttered Cecilia. "Unnecessarily so."

"She. Is. Fae," said Cerberus.

Mike should have asked what Nyx was planning, but had forgotten to. Oh, well. He'd try and find out next time. "So who wants to help me figure out the best time to steal a magic sword?"

Sulyvahn chuckled. "Yer not worthy," he said. "Too much red tape."

"Well I think we should try and cut through it," he replied. "We need to figure out a time when the vassals are too busy to see us heading down there."

"During tomorrow night's party," said Sofia. "That would be the time to do it."

"Sadly, I'm the guest of honor," Mike replied. "It's going to be tough to get away."

"Not if you're fashionably late," said Sofia. She stood and joined Mike by the window. "I could lead you down there."

"Won't his lordship notice he's down a sword?" asked Sulyvahn.

"Hmm." Mike scratched his head. "If we're planning to make our move tomorrow night, I don't see why not. Vincentius will likely wish to speak with me alone at some point and—"

"You don't have a way to hide a sword on your body," said Sofia. "And that's assuming you could even hurt him."

"Shit." Mike rubbed at his chin. "It shouldn't be this hard to stab an asshole."

"You need to behead him," said Sofia. "That's the only way to properly kill a vampyr. No head, no problem." The cyclops snorted. “Do you even know how to use a sword?”

“Stick the pointy end into other things?” asked Mike.

“Glad to hear that you intend to approach swordplay the same way you do your sex life.” Sofia laughed. “I could give you some pointers if you want.”

“Might be helpful,” he replied. “Also, I have a question for you. Yesterday, I had a vision of the future. It was my first one, really, but it felt so real.”

Sofia seemed surprised to hear this and leaned against the closest wall. “What happened?” she asked.

Mike repeated the vision he had, and spoke at length to how real it felt. When he was done, he looked at the cyclops to see a knowing look on her face. “It felt like I died,” he said. “The pain was so real.”

“It always is,” she replied. “If the future didn’t feel real, you wouldn’t work so hard to avoid it.”

“Is there any way to avoid that?” he asked.

Sofia shook her head. “I have no idea why you’re suddenly having these visions, but no, there isn’t. They happen in the span of a single breath, sometimes many of them. I have died many, many thousands of times and it fails to get any better.”

“Damn,” Mike muttered. The ability itself was helpful, but he had struggled with nightmares about it last night. “As for why it happened, I think I know.”

“Enlighten me.”

“You and I had a threesome with Cecilia in Avalon,” he said. “We fucked in Fae territory. I think…this will sound dumb, but—”

“Your magic swapped our souls again?” asked Sofia. “I thought that was a one-time thing?”

“Or amplified what was already there,” he said. “For example, Cecilia’s hair has more red in it. Obviously, something occurred. Have you noticed anything different about yourself?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t really thought about it. In fact, I really haven’t processed the idea that I have a piece of you swimming around inside of me.” The cyclops snorted. “And I don’t mean your sperm, by the way.”

Mike coughed into his hand. “Of course not.” His eyes dropped to her belly and he wondered just how long his swimmers lasted before dying out. Naia had once suggested that he would instantly impregnate any human woman, which made him think that his semen had a magical shelf life.

“My eye is up here,” muttered Sofia. When he met her gaze, she smiled. “Pervert,” she muttered, clearly semi-aware of what he had been thinking.

“Legitimate,” he admitted. He looked over at the others. Sulyvahn was chatting quietly with Cecilia, and both of them seemed subdued. Two of Cerberus’ heads were paying attention to them while the other was looking at Mike.

“Are you going to come up with a plan or stare at people?” asked Sofia.

Mike let out a sound of disgust. “I’m working on it,” he said. “I’m just doing a piss poor job. Hypothetically, even if I could retrieve Excalibur—”

“Which you can’t,” said Sofia.

“I wouldn’t bet your ass on that,” he said with a knowing grin.

“I’m going to,” she said. “I bet my ass that you won’t be able to pull it out of the stone. You yank a magical sword out of a rock, and you can have my ass whenever you want.”

“I, uh…” His magic practically sparked with anticipation. “Um…what happens if I can’t?”

“You can see the future like I can,” she replied with a grin. “I get to tie you up and have my way with you.”

“You’re on,” he said, extending his hand. “No take backs.”

The cyclops snorted and shook his hand. “Back to what you were saying. Even if you could get that sword, then what?”

“I would need the element of surprise,” he said. “There’s no way I could move fast enough to kill him. I might as well mail him the sword with a letter that asks if he could pretty please kill himself for all it would do.” His thoughts turned once more to Charlotte. If she were faster and stronger, could she do it? Nyx had suggested that whoever owned the sword could give it away.

His plan finally came together. He needed to talk to Charlotte either later tonight or first thing in the morning, too much hinged on her involvement. With her help, the only remaining issue would be sneaking Excalibur into the party and assassinating Vincentius.

“No head, no problem,” Mike muttered to himself. He looked at the others, his gaze finally settling on Sulyvahn. A wicked grin crossed his face. “Hey, Sulyvahn?”

“Aye?” The dullahan looked away from his sister and at Mike.

“Have you ever seen Return of the Jedi?”