Jinx

After breakfast, Mike informed Callisto that his mother wished to speak with him in the village. The boy let out a long, loud sigh, then looked at Lily, who was sitting next to him.

"I've got twenty dollars if you'll turn into me and go get chewed out by my mom," he said.

Lily smiled at Callisto, then looked past him at Grace, who was sneaking something from under the table.

"What do you think, little legs?"

Grace jammed the crayon in her mouth, then looked at her brother for a moment. She opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to remember that Mike was sitting right across from them. She shook her head, but didn't say a word.

"Looks like you're on your own." Lily ruffled Callisto's hair. "But maybe you should go in human form. There will be far less of your ass for her to chew."

"Traitors, all of you," Callisto grabbed a piece of bacon from his plate and scurried toward the backdoor. "Pray for me."

"Hey!" Lily threw a roll at Callisto, which bounced off his back and fell to the floor. Grace hopped off her chair to retrieve the roll and handed it to Lily.

"Bad," she said, her teeth covered in green wax.

"Where the heck does she keep finding crayons?" Mike asked.

Death, who sat at one end of the massive table, coughed into his tea, then brushed the liquid off of his robes. "If you'll excuse me, I just realized I forgot to do something." The Grim Reaper fled the breakfast scene at a stiff pace.

Tink, who was currently breastfeeding Matilda next to Mike, cackled. "Boney man gets to clean webs this week," she told her child. "Give Tink extra time for play!"

"You'd have more time if you'd stop messing with castle rooms," Kisa muttered, a cup of coffee clutched in her hands. "The house has never been in better shape."

"Thus, guaranteeing someone will blow it up next week." Yuki was at the other end of the table with a book in her hands. "I've actually had time to complete some of the upper arcana, which means I might be playing with a full deck again soon."

The kitsune's magic was powerful, but her painted tarot cards were imbued with her concentrated power. As a result of months or sometimes even years of work, she had grown two additional tails since last assembling a full deck of cards, which meant the process was somewhat faster now.

"Are you just going to let that go?" Lily asked. She looked down at the roll that Grace had retrieved, then turned her attention to the dark-haired beauty sitting next to her. The woman had several empty plates stacked in front of her. "Here. You look like you need this."

Tasia snatched the roll from Lily and glared at her. "Oh, so since it was on the floor, the dog girl will eat it."

"I walked in on that thing Dana and you were doing last week," Lily countered. "A piece of bread that fell on the floor is definitely not the least sanitary—"

Tasia snatched up the roll and jammed it into Lily's mouth. "On that note, I'll see you all later. Off to visit the in-laws." She picked up her plates and headed for the kitchen.

Mike's interactions with Tasia had been fairly limited since allowing her to move in, but his kids adored her. The first time he had met her, his magic had informed him that she was a good fit for the house. Dana had lit up in a way he had never seen before when he had agreed to let Tasia move-in.

The two of them lived together in Merlin's tower and made a point of visiting Dana's parents at least twice a month. They weren't actually married, though. Tasia had no legal identity to begin with, which meant it would be very hard to sign off on a license. However, she had grown surprisingly close to Dana's parents and had started calling them Mom and Dad.

Dana hadn't come down for breakfast. Though she didn’t need to eat normal food, she usually did so for social reasons. However, she had experienced a massive breakthrough regarding the gear system for the telescope in Merlin's tower, which she had been working on diligently for the last few years. Tasia had tried to explain the breakthrough to Mike, and he wasn't sure if she did a bad job doing so or if the engineering involved was just very far above his pay grade.

Either way, Dana was apparently quite pleased. The zombie's experience in Europe almost two years ago had changed her for the better. Her condition wasn't cured by any means, but she was apparently more than halfway there, according to Ratu.

But most of all, she seemed genuinely happy at times. This helped to alleviate plenty of the guilt that Mike felt about her circumstances.

"So what's on the agenda today, Romeo?" Lily had already eaten the roll that Tasia had jammed in her mouth.

"I've got a date with Di," he replied, then immediately regretted his choice in phrasing.

"Innnnnteresting," Lily said, leaning onto the table. "I know for a fact that you're going to put out on the first date. So how are you going to do it? Use your magic to tickle her pickle? What exactly are dragons working with, anyway? I guess you could use your whole body as a dick, or—"

Grace patted Lily on the arm, then tsked at her with a wagging finger. "Naughty," was all she said, revealing the remains of a yellow crayon's paper stuck between her teeth.

"I don't take advice from kids with wax breath." Lily's tail plucked the paper from Grace's mouth and held it up where she could see it. "Have you considered eating glue, instead?"

Mike sighed when the Arachne nodded solemnly. "First off, no giving her ideas. Second, I meant that I'm meeting with Di to check in on her regarding the eggs and make sure there isn't anything she needs. Just because protecting them is her sacred duty doesn't mean we shouldn't be making her more comfortable."

"Oh, I knew what you meant, Romeo." Lily stood and took a cup of coffee with her. She made the long trip around the table to kiss Mike on the cheek. "But you're so much fun to fuck...with."

The succubus winked, then strolled out of the room, rolling her hips unnecessarily. Mike looked over at Grace.

"No glue," he said.

"Too sticky," she agreed.

Yuki patted the girl on the head. "She's with me this morning, by the way. We've been doing an art project together."

"Oh?" Mike looked at his daughter. "Can I know, or is it a secret?"

"Secret." Grace mimed zipping her lips shut and twisting a lock.

"When do you need me back?" he asked.

"Tink is taking her this afternoon, so I don’t. It's bath day." Yuki jerked her thumb vaguely in the direction of the courtyard. "For Matilda, primarily. But Grace will probably be messy as well, so they may as well both get clean."

Grace nodded. "Very messy," she added.

"Thank you,” Mike said. “I appreciate all the time you spend with her."

"Us extra limb-ers need to stick together, right?" Yuki swished her tails in Grace's direction. His daughter batted at them silently, very much like a cat. "And if I'm being honest, it feels nice to be needed, if that makes sense. We don't have the same bond that she shares with Tink, but I like to think that I'm secretly the cool aunt."

Suddenly, Lily's shirt from yesterday took on a whole new meaning. Mike tried not to laugh. "Well, after Di, I'm dropping by the beach to see Leilani. She's been missing me. It'll give me a chance to catch up with the villagers."

"Is Charlotte going with you?" Yuki asked.

"Oh, she's already there." This was actually how he knew that Leilani was missing him so much. Charlotte had sent him a psychic message earlier this morning about it. "They still rely on Charlotte quite a bit, even though the merfolk have taken over many of her roles."

Yuki nodded, then sipped her tea. "Things might be quiet for the most part, but they still feel very busy. It seems like you're getting pulled in many directions."

Mike took a deep breath and let it out. "Honestly? Yeah. Everyone here does their part, but I still end up spread very thin in terms of maintaining personal relationships."

"Indeed. You still owe me a date." The kitsune raised an eyebrow. "Two, in fact."

Mike winced. "I thought it was just the one?"

"Nope. We missed the first date because you had to help settle a fight with the gargoyles that turned into a colossal pissing match between them. So you rescheduled it for a month ago, but we missed that one too because Ratu needed our help breaking a cursed artifact."

"Technically, that's just the one date," he replied. "Cancelled twice."

"I charge interest." Yuki grinned over her cup at him. "If not for making new tarot cards, I would have gone out of my mind."

Mike took a breath. Living in a home full of magical women would have been so much easier if he hadn't started romantic relationships with pretty much all of them. His daily tasks and being a father kept him busy even without the women. With Leilani feeling neglected already, he worried about who else might be in Yuki's shoes. They already had a calendar to track such things, but it was easy enough for somebody to slip through the cracks.

"Hey. I'm good." Yuki's voice was soft. "I'm just communicating my needs long before I'm upset, Caretaker. I certainly don't need you hearing about it from your vampyr. Who, I might add, seems to be doing a phenomenal job as your personal assistant."

"That she is." Charlotte had taken on many of Mike's duties as her own. It certainly didn't hurt that she had the eternal stamina for it. Unlike Kisa, she was very much a people person. The cat girl typically stuck to either Tink or Death, but had been permanently attached to Tink's side lately. It was the only way to keep track of Matilda.

"Well. I guess I should be off," he said. He paused to give Yuki and his daughter a kiss, then took his plate to the kitchen and put it in the dishwasher. He spotted the pots and pans on the drying rack from breakfast and let out a sigh. It reminded him that he hadn't seen Sofia in a while either.

She and Eulalie were working hard on some grand scheme to restore the Library of Thoth to its former glory. Their new staff members were doing a great job with the help of Eulalie's rats, but the backlog was centuries long. The cyclops was rarely in the house longer than it took to prep a meal, though she did sometimes schedule play dates with the children.

"Maybe I need two or three assistants," he muttered out loud. They could take care of the daily stuff while he caught up with family.

A flowerpot by the window's edge shuddered, and a pair of fairies emerged from the dirt. It was Carmina and Cerulea. As a red fairy, Carmina had the insectile traits of a dragonfly, with four wings and compound eyes. Cerulea was blue and resembled a beetle.

"We'll be your assistants," Carmina said.

"We can do anything," Cerulea added.

"For cum," Carmina added.

"Why are you two sleeping in the dirt?" he asked.

"We were playing hide and seek with Grace," Carmina replied.

"And we both ended up hiding here," Cerulea added.

"But we fell asleep." Carmina giggled. "Don't tell her you saw us!"

Mike laughed. "Yeah, that's right. I remember you guys playing Hide and Seek. That was two days ago."

Cerulea gasped, then looked at her sister. "We're really good hiders!" she said.

"That's right." Mike didn't have the heart to tell them that there was a chance Grace had simply moved on to another task. However, it did make him wonder if the other two fairies, Daisy and Olivia, were similarly entrenched somewhere. He thought he had seen them in the garden yesterday, but might need to double-check. "I think Grace gave up, which means she's not playing anymore."

"We win!" The fairies exchanged a high-five and launched into the air to buzz around Mike's head. They both flew in to kiss him on the lips, then turned into motes of light and bolted away.

"Little goofballs," he muttered with a grin.

He stopped by his room long enough to change into clothes more suitable for the volcano and the beach. This amounted to shorts and a very lightweight button down. A quick trip through a pair of rat portals had him standing inside a temple that sat in the middle of a massive caldera.

The temple itself had an elevator near the entrance that would take him down to the actual chamber where Di resided, but a shortcut portal had been installed. Heat billowed out from the shimmering portal as he stepped into a large chamber dominated by an obsidian platform floating in a magma chamber. There was a dull, rumbling sound that he could feel beneath his feet as the magma flowed like a river around the central platform.

At the other end of the chamber, a full-figured woman with white hair and a silver bikini was sitting next to a colossal dragon's head. They were mid-conversation when the dragon's eyes shifted in his direction. A thin grin appeared along the dragon’s lips as she lifted her head to look in his direction.

"Caretaker," Di said, the ground rumbling with her voice. "It has been a while."

“Indeed," he replied, walking across the bridge. "Is now a good time to see how you are doing and ask if there is anything you desire?"

"My sister here provides me with plenty of company." Di looked toward Quetzalli. Transformed into a human woman by the Queen of the Fae, Quetzalli hopped to her feet and gave Mike a tight hug, which also resulted in a solid zap of electricity on contact. The storm dragon's powers had been greatly diminished in this form, but they were slowly returning with the restoration of her horn.

"Mike!" Quetzalli squeezed him so hard that several ribs popped. "What a lovely surprise!"

"I didn't expect to see you down here today," he admitted, but was certainly pleased to see her. Last he heard, Quetzalli had been out in Oregon, visiting with Beth.

The dragon girl took a step back and squeezed her arms together in front of her chest, which caused her breasts to bubble up and nearly squeeze out of her bathing suit.

"Do you like my new swimsuit?" she asked.

"Very much. Where did you get it?"

"Eulalie had it specially made. It helps distribute the charge so I'm less likely to zap someone when I go swimming." Quetzalli gave him a gentle nudge with her elbow. "If I'm in the water too long, I sort of become like a big capacitor."

"My little sister has quite the shocking presence," Di added with a rumbling laugh, then turned her attention back to Mike. "Everything here is well, Caretaker. I am content."

"I can see that." Mike took a moment to glance around the chamber. Occasionally, he spotted the serpentine movement of Di's body shifting amongst the magma. "I'm grateful Que can keep you company."

"We belong to a very special sisterhood." Di blinked, then raised her massive head. "Did you wish to see the eggs?"

"Only if you think I need to. I assume nothing has changed."

"It has not, Caretaker. Until the final egg is fertilized, they shall continue to remain dormant."

All but one of the dragon eggs had been fertilized and held under a magical geas of suspension until the last one was ready. Mike actually had access to a Dragon Seed which would finalize the process, but that technically belonged to Dana, who might need it to cure her condition.

That, and even if he did fertilize the final egg, then what? Bringing dragons back into a world that would likely kill them was a tragedy waiting to happen. He honestly wasn't sure what to do with them. Maybe someday, he'd figure it out.

"Then I see no need. This visit is purely about your comfort."

The massive Earth dragon chuckled, her coils shifting all around them. "I am far happier than I have been in many centuries, Caretaker. It is beyond my imagination what additional comforts you could provide." Her large, topaz eye shifted in Quetzalli's direction. "However, this one wishes to mate with you. It has apparently been some time."

"Di." Quetzalli crossed her arms. "Humans are very shy about those kinds of things. It isn't polite to bring them up."

"Then why do you bring it up with me so often?"

Quetzalli coughed into her hand, then looked at Mike. "It's fine," she said. "My needs just feel...many."

"I see." In truth, Mike felt pretty bad about it. Something needed to change, he just didn't know what. "On a similar note, I'm headed to see Leilaini after this."

"Perhaps I should accompany you, then." Quetzalli bid farewell to Di, then picked up a small cotton dress and slipped it over her head as she left with Mike. The skirt barely covered her butt cheeks as she walked, a problem compounded by how the fabric stuck to her.

Mike and Quetzalli left the temple together, the dragon clinging to his arm as if they were on a date. She ran her hand up his arm and traced out a random symbol on the back of his neck. He could feel the hair on his body standing on end.

"I think she likes you," Quetzalli said.

"Di? Yeah, she's nice."

"I mean romantically."

"What?" Mike stopped to look at the dragon. "Seriously?"

"Are you interested?" Quetzalli grinned like the Cheshire cat at him.

"You're screwing with me, aren't you?"

Quetzalli laughed. "Of course I am. Some of the merfolk keep asking when the two of you are going to hook up."

"Why does everybody assume I'm going to fuck...the..." Mike let his words drift and coughed to cover his embarrassment. Quetzalli blinked innocently at him, then grinned when she saw him blush.

"The non-humanoid dragon," he finally said. "I’m aware there is a precedent, but that dragon is roughly my size and has very human features."

"You're so cute when you're shy." Quetzalli gave his arm a playful pinch. "Also, have you been keeping up on your lessons?"

Mike nodded, then held up his hand to summon a butterfly made of lightning. He gave it a toss, and it fluttered away. "See? I'm no longer limited to spiders."

"While you demonstrate great control of form and function, what about power?" She pointed at the sky and thunder rumbled from deep within a cloud. "Any luck?"

"Not without a severe drop in strength and stamina," he replied. His magic had evolved primarily based on his own desires to protect and to connect with the women in his life. The nymph part of his magic was based on souls and sexuality. The strangely evolved Fae part was the chaotic component that caused spontaneous changes and evolutions based on intense emotional states. So summoning lightning to blast somebody was an intense drain on his magical reserves.

However, electrical shocks to arouse someone could be done practically forever. It was a unique skill set to have, and often threatened to get away from him in a bad way. More than once, he'd felt the temptation to use his magic strictly out of anger. It was something he had worked hard to actively avoid, because there was no telling how it would change him.

Quetzalli questioned him as they walked away from the temple and down toward the beach where the village had been built. Humans, all of them villagers from Avalon, briefly paused from their work to greet him.

Some kids came running up to Quetzalli and him. Gone were the scratchy wool shirts and tweed pants that they had all worn in Avalon. Their new garb was lightweight and made for the water.

"Caretaker! Caretaker!" The children jumped up and down to get his attention. "Are you going to play with us today?"

"No, not today," he said with a laugh. He often brought his own kids here to mingle with the others. The children here didn't regard Callisto too coldly, though some had heard stories from the centaurs. "I'm here to see the princess."

"Ooooh," they all said in unison. Their pale skin had long ago become very tan beneath the tropical sun. A little girl in a dress tugged at his hand.

"Are you gonna get married?" she asked.

"They're already married," said a boy in a pair of board shorts. "Remember?"

"No!" The little girl looked like she was going to tear up. "Did I miss it?"

Mike picked her up and held her on his hip. "It was before you got here," he said. "I promise I would have invited you, okay?"

The little girl wiped her eyes. "Okay," she declared, then her eyes slid over to Quetzalli. "Are you going to marry her?" she asked.

The children all went quiet. Mike was about to say no, then saw the look that Quetzalli was giving him.

"That's a great question, Caretaker." She looked forlornly at her bare ring finger. "Are you going to marry me?"

He narrowed his eyes at the dragon, seeing the mirth practically dancing throughout her soul. She was fucking with him again. Instead, he set the little girl down and straightened out her dress.

"I can't tell you in front of her," he said with a wink. "But if I do, you're invited, okay?"

The girl's eyes got really wide, and then she threw both hands in the air and ran off at a dead sprint. "I'm going to be the flower girl!" she yelled.

Quetzalli laughed. "You're gonna owe her a big apology," she said, then looked at the other children. "Dragons don't get married."

"They don't," Mike agreed. "But statistically, I'm probably marrying somebody, since everyone keeps teasing me about it."

This caused the kids to start arguing over who it should be. Mike and Quetzalli walked away from their heated debate, which seemed likely to come to blows.

Down at the beach, a merman on the sand spotted Mike and put a conch shell to his lips and blew. The bay went momentarily still, the water receding outward. Quetzalli remained behind as Mike walked down onto the sand and watched as a large wave appeared in the distance. Whitecaps formed as the wave broke, revealing a young woman with blue and green hair that had glass beads woven into each strand. Today, she wore a simple blue bikini top and a matching sarong around her waist that covered her scales. The wave carried her toward him from the depths, dumping her into his arms. Her tail wrapped around him, then transformed into a pair of legs as the water receded.

"Good morning, husband." Leilani's dark eyes gazed deeply into his. "What a wonderful surprise."

"Good morning. I thought I'd come and spend some time with my wife today, unless you are busy."

"I will make the time." She looked off to the side where a young mermaid had been carried onto the sand. "Cancel my appointments."

"It will be done, your majesty." The mermaid flopped onto the sand, her head toward the water. She gave Mike a wink as the surf washed over her, then carried her out into the bay where she vanished.

Leilani was far too heavy for Mike to hold without the support of the water around them. Merfolk were actually quite dense, allowing them to withstand the crushing pressure of the depths. So although Leilani was built like a surfer girl, she was heavy like a sumo wrestler.

The mermaid princess took Mike by the hand and led him back to the beach. Her face fell momentarily when she saw Quetzalli standing there, but paused to bow her head in reverence, placing a closed fist above her open palm as she did so.

"Lady Stormrider," she said by way of greeting. Quetzalli was highly revered by both the centaur and merfolk tribe due to not only her draconic status, but also because she was constantly supporting them all in unforeseen ways. Centuries ago, Quetzalli had interacted constantly with the people of central America, and seemed to enjoy her more traditional role among them as a spiritual guide.

By that same token, it also meant Leilani wasn't about to complain about the dragon's presence. The princess turned to Mike and took him by the hand. "How long do we have together?" she asked.

"All day," he replied. "We can do whatever you want."

Leilani hopped up and down with her hands clutched together in excitement, then seemed to remember herself and came to a halt. "Husband, I demand you take me on a proper date," she said.

"Define a proper date, and it shall be done."

"I wish to see the mainland," she replied. "A day amongst your people, followed by a romantic dinner."

"And dancing," Quetzalli added.

"Yes, and..." Leilani's left eyelid twitched. She looked past Mike at the dragon. "You think we should go dancing, Lady Stormrider?"

"Yes, we should." Quetzalli came up and took Mike's other hand. "I'll let you pick the dinner venue if you allow me to choose the dance venue."

"Eh..." Leilani looked at Mike, clearly hoping he might rescue her from Quetzalli's misunderstanding. He opened his mouth to say something, but a look at Quetzalli's soul told him that doing so would hurt her.

There was no denying it. He was officially stretched too thin, which created missed opportunities. His life was too hectic, and if he didn't figure out a better way to balance it out, then there was a good chance resentment would build.

"I think those ideas sound fantastic," he said. "Quetzalli, would you like to see the mainland as well?" Maybe the dragon would be content with dinner and dancing.

"Sure," she replied. "It's been a long time since I've been outside of this place or the greenhouse. What did you have in mind?"

"Um..." Shit. He needed to think long and hard about the best way to do this. Looking at both women, he furrowed his brow in concentration. After several long seconds of silence, he came to a decision. "Since Leilani wishes to see the mainland, I think we should let her pick the destination and activity, since it's her first time doing so. Quetzalli, I need you to figure out where we should go dancing. You can check with Eulalie or Kisa if you don’t have a place in mind already. However, I would like the two of you to decide what sort of dinner you can both agree on."

Leilani gripped Mike's hand. "But shouldn't you get to decide one of the activities?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Honestly, I'm fine with the current arrangement. I'll be in charge of logistics. You know, figuring out how to do these things in the safest manner possible."

The women exchanged a glance, then nodded at each other. "I am amicable to this arrangement," Leilani said, though it was clear she was still a bit disappointed.

"As am I," Quetzalli replied. She smiled at Leilani. “Maybe we should coordinate our outfits.”

The princess actually smiled at that. “I suppose I could do that, but I must decide our activity first and shall require at least two outfits.” She gazed out into the water. “I would prefer to see the sorts of clothes that humans might wear. Could we go shopping?”

“Of course,” Mike replied. “I won’t even count that as your chosen activity. Would you like me to go with you, or do you want it to be a surprise?”

The women stepped away from him and conferred quietly for a moment before returning. “We would like to make it a surprise,” Leilani said.

“Then you’ll need someone to help you,” he said with a grin. “Let’s head back to the house and make a couple of calls, shall we?”

Satisfied, both women grinned, their souls pulsing with happiness. Mike smiled with satisfaction, then took a woman in each arm and escorted them home. It felt good to solve a potential problem so quickly, and he was very much looking forward to their date tonight. It would be nice to get out of the house for a little bit.

---

Lily walked up to her bedroom, taking a moment to startle a pair of rats that were running along the hallway with feather dusters strapped to their bellies. Both rats let out a squeak of alarm and reared up on their hind legs, which made the feathers look like little tutus, before running in the opposite directions.

"Man, I love the ballet," she muttered to nobody in particular. Her room wasn't very far from Mike's. It was close enough that she could easily drop in, but far enough away that she didn't have to hear whatever it was he did in there.

It wasn't that she was jealous, or even possessive. However, she had learned long ago that the others did not care to hear commentary on their performance, nor did they appreciate it when she offered her unique brand of unsolicited advice.

Based on what she knew about Mike, he had an innate desire to indulge in the various kinks the other women in the house had, regardless if he shared it with them. In some ways, he was like the male version of her, willing to do whatever in bed that would get the other person off. The competitive part of her wanted to be the one who did all the weird shit with him, to be considered the best at each bedroom activity he might indulge in.

Realistically, she also knew it wasn't just about sex. While his magic enhanced the eroticism of each moment, it was Mike himself who brought out the romantic feelings that went along with the act. So even if she tried to copy what the others did, it would just be a pale imitation of what the others experienced anyway.

As a succubus, this should have bothered her, made her want to hang up her wings and tail for...well, whatever a failed succubus would wear. Probably a ball and chain in the center of Hell where she'd be forced to do paperwork or something. She hadn't ever spent a lot of time in Hell and planned to keep it that way.

Lily hadn't been born a succubus. Instead, she had started life as a human woman, only to be betrayed by the first man that she loved. He had used a wish to turn her into a demon, and it was only after meeting Mike that she had become free to choose the kind of person she wanted to be.

Lily closed the door of her bedroom and laid down on her bed. Her room was sparsely decorated. It's not that she lacked for anything. Rather, this was her first bedroom ever since becoming a demon so many hundreds of years ago, and she hadn't thought of any furniture or decorations she would need other than a bed. A succubus didn't require furniture to hold clothing, because she could magically wear whatever she wanted.

The only other piece of furniture in the room was a small desk with some drawers. Up above it, a single picture had been framed and hung. It was a colored pencil drawing of Lily herself, captured mid-laugh. The artist's signature was visible in the lower right corner.

Reagan. The image had been drawn three Christmases ago. Lily had met Reagan at the Children's Hospital while she was helping Death deliver Santa's presents. The memory was still painful to contemplate, but just like this drawing, was something she cherished.

Reagan died shortly after the completion of this drawing, and Lily had watched in horror as Death took her soul.

Mike had seen the picture in Lily’s room, and she eventually told him the story. What he didn't know was that she and Death made sure to drop by Reagan's family every now and then to check on them, especially at Christmas time. It wasn’t that she was trying to hide something from him, but rather, the fact that it was good to have something that was uniquely hers.

"How long has it been since you spoke with Peyton?" Spirit Mike, a hallucination created by the splinter of his soul inside of her, spoke from the corner of the room.

"A few weeks," she replied. Reagan's family had been broken by their loss. Lily had managed to put them on the right track with a little re-programming of her own. She had tapped into their dreams while they slept in order to help them process their grief and move forward. Her younger sister Peyton was the only one who had caught on that something supernatural was at work, and was therefore who Lily was in direct contact with.

"Who do you think she asked to the Spring Fling?" asked Spirit Mike. "Jake or Erica?"

Lily chuckled. "I bet it was neither of them," she replied.

"Really? Neither?" Spirit Mike frowned, then leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "Because you wouldn't help her?"

Peyton had some very conflicting feelings about other boys and girls her own age, and had demanded that Lily look deep into her soul to tell her if she preferred boys or girls. Lily had explained that it was something she needed to work out on her own.

Besides, everyone involved was only eleven years of age. This wasn’t an arranged marriage. It was a school dance where everyone would stare at each other awkwardly or do stupid dances from Fortnite.

"Because neither was good enough for her." Lily stuck out her tongue and pulled a young adult novel out of the desk. She flopped on the bed and used her tail to hold the book open. It was a book series that Peyton had recommended to her, so the succubus had made the time to read it. Lily had never really had time to read books, and they certainly hadn't appealed to her.

This genre, however, was often sweet and very safe. Most books like these were written about first loves and heartache. It was kind of nice to read something that wasn't steeped in so much sex and violence.

"I wonder—"

"Shhh. Momma's reading," she muttered. Spirit Mike chuckled and vanished from sight. Lily was a slow reader by choice, taking her time to construct the scenes from the book in her own Dreamscape.

This was a paranormal romance about a teenager who had fallen in love with the boy next door and was having visions of demons that attacked her friends. Lily was perfectly happy to attend High School in this fashion, entering a semi-lucid state where she walked the halls with the hero of the story and got to flesh everything out as if she were really there.

"This book makes my heart hurt sometimes," she said, leaning against a locker and watching Theresa, the main character, stare longingly at a boy named Kevin.

"First loves are special," Spirit Mike replied from nearby. "They make your heart soar the fastest, after all. There's nothing quite like that first ride into the stratosphere."

"Or the fall that comes after," Lily muttered darkly. The lights of the High School actively flickered, but nobody reacted to it. That wasn't part of the story, after all, and none of the people here were real.

Nearby, a giant of a man grabbed the nearest student to him and smacked his head into a locker. "Lily," he shouted, banging the kid's head into it over and over again. "Lily, are you in there?"

Lily's eyes snapped open to reveal that the book was now on her face. Chuckling to herself, she tucked the book under her pillow and wiped the drool from her mouth before answering the door. While screwing around in the Dreamscape, she had fallen asleep. She opened her door to see Kisa.

"Hey there, kitty cat." She leaned against the frame of the door. "You need someone to play string with?"

"There's some asshole at the door demanding to talk to Mike," she replied.

"And?" Lily shrugged. "Have someone toss the fucker out."

"He has bodyguards and refuses to leave." Kisa frowned. "I know the geas is powerful, but having Abella or Yuki bodily remove them, well..."

Lily sighed. "Guess a girl can't get any peace or quiet," she muttered as she shut the door behind her and walked down the hall with Kisa behind her. Her outfit and body transformed as she walked. By the time she slid down the railing, she was wearing a copy of Mike's body.

Upon reaching the bottom floor, she paused to inspect herself in the nearest mirror. She decided to add just a hint of a five-o-clock shadow and then, just for laughs, increased the size of her dick so that it was insanely large and visible through the slacks she wore.

Kisa was at the bottom of the stairs now. "That's a bit ostentatious," she muttered, evaluating Lily's appearance.

"I bet you can't even spell that word," Lily replied. "Why didn't we just blast this fucker?"

"No magic, seems human," she replied. "And he has money. Driver brought him to the gate. Someone would notice he was missing."

"Oh boy. Rich assholes are the best." Lily yanked the door open to reveal a tall man with coiffed blonde hair and blue, piercing eyes. She stepped outside and closed the door behind her, immediately noticing the two bodyguards that had come with him.

"Howdy," she said. “I heard you were looking for Mike Radley."

"Are you Callisto Radley's father?" The man glared hard at Lily, but she didn't care. It was like being stared down by a toddler.

"If I'm not, then his mother has some explaining to do." Lily stepped past the man and leaned toward the nearest bodyguard. "Are these your boys? Did you all come here to beat me up?"

"No, Mister Radley, we did not come to beat you up." The blond stepped between Lily and the bodyguard. "They work for me."

"Oh. You must be a pretty big deal, then." Lily turned to face the man, knowing exactly who he was now. She had only caught a few glimpses of him at the soccer games she had attended, but his face had always been obscured by a pair of large sunglasses or glued to his phone.

However, she wasn't going to let him know that. This wouldn't nearly be as fun if she did.

"Some would say," Ashton's father replied. "My name is Bentley Maxwell. I am Ashton's father."

"Who?" Lily cocked her head to one side and jammed her hands in her pockets. She made sure to cock her hips forward.

"Ashton. The young man that Callisto Radley put in emergency dental surgery."

"Ah, yes. The mouth." Lily looked at the nearest bodyguard and grinned. The man had so many muscles, he almost looked like a balloon animal. "How much protein do you eat? I feel bad for the poor toilet that has to deal with your shits."

"I would like you to focus, Mister Radley. You seem to be under the assumption that this isn't very important." Bentley crossed his arms and tried to stare her down. "I am a very busy man. The fact that I came here in person should convey the seriousness of what I have to say."

"Okay, then. Let's hear it," she replied, jerking her thumb at the house. "I need to be on the other side of my house later tonight and have to leave soon."

Bentley's hard look was well practiced, probably in front of a mirror. Lily responded by adjusting her massive dick.

"Your son hurt my son," he said. "Which means we have a problem."

"Oh, I think I get it." She pointed at the bodyguards. "So you brought these guys here to punch my kid, right? Some eye-for-an-eye shit."

"No. Mister Radley, are you on something?" Bentley's voice didn't convey any sort of frustration. Instead, he spoke with the cool tone of a man who was hoping to latch on to any weakness.

"Why? Did you run out of whatever it takes to keep you up and running?" Lily shook her head, then lowered her voice as if speaking confidently. "I'll tell you a secret. No amount of blow is going to magically remove the stick you keep rammed up your ass."

"I see." Bentley frowned. "I guess the apple doesn't fall very far from the tree."

"You're right, it doesn't." She jabbed a finger at the man, careful not to touch him. It was clear Bentley was hoping she would. "You're just like your son. You come and start shit, then piss and moan when it doesn't go your way. The only difference between you and your son is you get to keep your teeth today. Unless you want to sucker punch me, I suppose." She grinned at the man. "’Cause if you do, I'll send you and your son matching straws to drink meals through."

Bentley flexed his hands, then adjusted his tie instead. "There are two sides to every story," he said. "Ashton did not—"

"Oh, he did. I was at the game. Saw and heard what happened." Lily grinned and took a step forward. Bentley took a step back. "Heard him admit that he kicked a soccer ball at my little girl, Grace, to see if she was retarded. You would have seen it, too, if you ever came to your boy's games. Do you think it's a cry for attention, Bentley? That your son wants his daddy to notice him? Or is it just shitty genetics?"

She took another step forward and a bodyguard interceded, stepping between Lily and Bentley. When the man put his hand on her shoulder, Lily punched him in the windpipe so hard that he collapsed, clutching at his throat as his face turned red.

"Good help is so hard to find," she told him, then looked at the pistol the other bodyguard had pulled. "What are you planning to do with that?" she asked. “He touched me first. Self defense, bitches.”

The man put his finger on the trigger and pointed it at her, then looked at his boss. Bentley's cool facade had crumbled, the man as pale as paper.

"If you pull that trigger, I fully intend to defend myself," she said, going completely still. Turning a glare of her own on Bentley, she bared her teeth. "I'm about to save your son a bunch of money on Father's Day presents, you pretentious fuck. He probably won't even notice that you're gone. So why don't you do everybody a favor and collect your man here before I really get mad?"

Bentley opened his mouth, then shut it. He backed down the porch without breaking eye contact with Lily. His bodyguard holstered his pistol and helped the other man stand. Lily smirked as they made their way down the driveway.

"That's how you handle people like that," she said out loud to nobody. "Let them know you're not fucking around."

"Excuse me." A female voice caught Lily off guard. She turned to see a woman standing just to the side of the door. "Um...Mike Radley?"

"Sure. You're not about to pull a gun on me, are you?"

The woman shook her head and nervously handed over an envelope. "You've...you've been...served," she stammered, then took a step back.

"I've been what?" Lily looked at the manilla envelope in her hand, then down the hill at Bentley. She ripped the envelope open and pulled the documents out. Scanning the text, she let out a groan.

"Who the fuck sues a kid?" she shouted, then looked at the woman. "Is this real?"

"Please don't hurt me," she whimpered. "I don't even know the guy, he saw me in the park and paid me five hundred bucks to do it."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Lily muttered to herself, then stepped away from the stairs so the woman could go. "I'm not mad at you," she said, giving her plenty of space.

The woman moved slowly, like a wary animal, then jogged down the hill, passing Bentley and his goons. The man had the audacity to reach the edge of the property then turn and look up the hill like some cartoon villain.

"This is so fucking stupid," Lily said, looking at the paperwork. "Who sues a kid for ten million dollars? Someone with his head up his ass, that's for sure." With a sigh, she turned toward the house.

Beth would know how to handle this. Maybe if they moved quick enough, Mike would never have to know.

---

Callisto walked away from his mother's tent, trying to act nonchalant as possible without catching the attention of any other centaurs. While they wouldn't harass him, he certainly didn't need them staring his way and jostling each other to check out the village failure.

It was hard being in a familiar place that was now hostile. The few members of the tribe who did notice him made sure to stay out of his way lest he try to make conversation. A few of the humans from Avalon just openly stared. He didn't care too much about them, though. They were strangers.

His mother had just finished laying down the law regarding soccer, as well as his actions during the game. While she wasn't mad that he had kicked Ashton, she had been very upset that he had lost control of his own strength and knocked the kid's teeth out.

Either way, the penalty ended up fairly light in his opinion. A section of yard at the main house would be set aside and he would be responsible for its care rather than the centaurs assigned to it. In regards to soccer, his team had made the finals and he would be allowed to play and potentially do so next season as long as he kept from gathering any further attention.

Still, it sort of stung that he was allowed to play, but not to let loose. Soccer had scratched his social itch, but he hated dumbing down his abilities. Sometimes, Aunt Charlotte would play soccer with him and would absolutely outclass him in speed and talent. He honestly didn't mind, because he could push himself and still feel like he had room to grow. If everyone wasn't so busy, he would absolutely suggest a monster league. Aunt Lala would be a phenomenal goaltender, and he could see Dana blasting through the competition with her weird combination of dead girl strength and computer brain.

A group of kids, human and centaur, were circled up near the edge of town. Against his better judgement, Callisto walked up to them to see what they were up to.

One of the humans was clutching a toad with a yellow stripe down its back. Callisto could tell right away that it was just paint. As he drew close, he heard them talking.

"This one jumps really fast," said the girl holding him. "I think he'll win the race later today for sure."

"But Esther has that toad that's bigger than everyone else," a centaur protested. "That's why she keeps winning."

A boy with a blue feather braided into his hair shook his head. "Esther's been feeding her toad too much," he said. "She thinks making it even more biggerer will make it better—"

"Bigger," corrected every other centaur child.

"But now it just poops all the time," the boy finished, unbothered by their interruption.

Based on context, Callisto gathered the kids were now racing toads. That sounded like a lot of fun, honestly. He wanted to ask more, honestly. If he just showed up with a toad, would they let him race? Probably not.

"Where did you find this one?" asked a centaur girl. It was Adhara. Callisto hadn't seen her except from a distance ever since the centaurs had been returned.

"Near Nima's hut on the edge of town," said the toad holder. "Check out its feet, they're really—" She flipped her hand over just as the toad squirmed free. It hopped twice and Callisto scooped it up. The children turned toward him and froze.

He held the toad out. "Here," he said, trying to sound indifferent. The girl hesitated, then reached out to take the animal back.

"I wouldn't," cautioned Adhara.

"Yeah," said a centaur boy named Rasalas. "Callisto's a jinx. That toad is no good, now."

"Oh." The girl who caught the toad was crestfallen. She looked at Callisto with both sadness and fear. "It's okay. You can keep it."

"I don't want it. I was just..." Callisto trailed off as the group immediately disbanded, all of them walking hurriedly away from him in different directions. Sighing, he looked at the toad in his hand. "I'm really not a jinx," he told it.

The toad blinked twice, then pissed in his hand. Shaking his head, Callisto decided the best course of action was to at least attempt to return it to its home. Remembering where the girl said she caught it, he wandered outside of town and found the yurt immediately. It was newly built and lacked any decoration on the outside. Just past its doorway was the edge of a muddy creek and some tall reeds. Callisto knelt down to return the toad to the river.

"Go be free," he said. The toad hopped once toward the water's edge, then was promptly swallowed whole by a lurking catfish.

Well, shit. Maybe he was a jinx.

"That's Percival," said an aged voice behind him. "He'll eat anything you hand him."

Callisto turned to address the speaker. "I heard the toad came from here and—oh."

A centaur had emerged from the yurt. With wizened limbs and a bent back, it was Nima. The two of them had been at a similar age before Nima was abducted by the Fae and lived an entire lifetime in their realm over just a few days in the real world.

Nima held up a hand as if to calm Callisto. "Are you sure you didn't come out here to speak with an old friend?"

"I'm sorry to have bothered you," Callisto muttered, and would have run away, but would have to do so through the thick mud. That was a great way to turn an ankle.

"Not a bother," Nima replied, then reached back into his yurt to pull out a long staff. He leaned on it and studied Callisto. "I was actually hoping to get a chance to speak with you someday, but you're too darned fast."

Callisto took a deep breath, then let out a sigh. This had been a moment he had dreaded for some time, but it had finally arrived. Looking at the stick that Nima held, he figured he would be willing to take a couple of whacks from it.

Bowing his head while still maintaining eye contact with the stick, he spoke. "You should know that I am deeply sorry for what happened to you and the others and will gladly consider any punishment you wish to mete out. While I won't defend myself, I will leave if I feel my life may be in danger."

"Oh." Nima's voice crinkled like leaves. "You think I wish to punish you."

"Everyone else already does," Callisto responded, afraid to look at the elderly centaur. "If anyone is more entitled to their anger than you are, I have yet to meet them."

"I see." Nima sighed. "Fifty years ago, I absolutely would have taken you up on your offer. I used to fantasize about setting traps that would break your legs, then rolling you down a hill to be eaten alive from the inside out by bone fairies."

"What's a bone...pardon my interruption."

"You'll accept any punishment I dole out?" Nima took a step forward and raised his stick.

"Unless it will result in permanent harm, then yes," Callisto replied. "Nima, I am so—"

"Ah, ah, shhh." Nima immediately waved his hands around, his eyes wide as he searched the clearing. After a moment of confusion, he shook his head. "I keep forgetting this is a Fae free zone. You learn real quick not to apologize for anything."

"If anyone should have mine, it should be you."

Nima chuckled. "I think I have the perfect one in mind, actually. It can't do you any permanent harm, right? If I asked you to come wipe my ass every day, you would?"

"Um...I do have prior obligations, but would find a workaround," Callisto replied.

"What about cleaning my house? Fletching arrows for me? Finding me a suitable mate?"

"I would do all of those things, but the last would be tough. You really don't want any sort of social help from me. I have to imagine no woman in the tribe wants to be approached by the town jinx regarding issues of potential matrimony." Callisto's cheeks grew hot. "Perhaps I could have my mother put in a good word—"

"Fuck your mother." Nima flinched shortly after he spoke, then shook his head immediately. "I shouldn't have said that. My re-integration into the tribe has been...not very successful. Your mother has tried very hard to make me feel included, but her efforts have had quite the opposite effect."

Callisto unclenched his fists. If Nima had been around his age, he would have punched the centaur right in the face. He could actually see lines of anguish form around the elder's mouth. "What do you mean?"

Nima raised his eyebrows. "No, I don't suppose you would know, would you? Don't mind me. When people get old, they talk out loud sometimes. It might be a sign of senility. For me, it's because I'm not always convinced that I have returned to this wretched place."

"Wretched?" Callisto frowned, somehow more confused than ever.

Nima tapped Callisto on the head with his staff, then nodded toward the forest. "Let us walk and talk. My joints hurt when I stand like this for too long."

Callisto obliged, and the two of them walked onto a faint path. He figured if Nima was attempting to lure him away in order to dispatch him, he would have the upper hand in escaping. That, and he had been studying Nima's soul this entire time. The centaur had been frighteningly honest whenever he spoke.

"Where to begin, where to begin...let's start with why I think this place is wretched." He paused to touch a leaf that hung just over the path, then flipped it over to reveal a caterpillar. "Would you like the short answer, or the much longer one?"

"Whichever you prefer, elder. I am eager to learn."

With surprising speed, Nima whacked Callisto in the shin with his stick. "That right there," he said, jabbing a gnarled finger in Callisto's direction. "What sort of answer was that?"

"Um..." Callisto shook his hoof to try and alleviate the pain. "It's what we're supposed to say."

"Good." Nima nodded. "I am decades your senior, and therefore your elder. I have unshared wisdom, seeds to plant in young minds that they may mature into trees of experience. You should value my knowledge, that much is true. But your response is cultural, Callisto. It is born from repetition and upbringing. I'm not saying it is wrong. However—"

"You have returned to a society whose norms you no longer value or hold dear," Callisto finished. "While you may be a centaur in body, your cultural experience was completely different. Now that you've returned, you are an outsider."

Nima promptly smacked Callisto in another shin.

"Ow!" The young centaur limped for a moment as the pain lingered. "What was that for? Was I wrong?"

"You interrupted." Nima smirked. "But you are indeed correct. I find myself returning to the place of my youth, to people who have been frozen in time while I have lived a very long life, longer than any centaur, likely. While I don't find the people here reprehensible, I no longer find them familiar. Your mother's efforts to reintegrate me into the tribe have only added to my discomfort."

"Have you told her this?"

Nima nodded. "She is under the belief that my protests are born of trauma, that I struggle to live amongst you. It's only a partial truth. I miss my life in the Fae Realm." The centaur paused and used his staff to softly push Callisto's open mouth shut. "A bug will fly in there."

"You...miss it?"

Nima nodded, his eyes settling on a distant memory. "When we were taken, the Fae treated us like property, promptly dividing us amongst their family. The Fae social structure is an odd one. You can't base it on age, as they are all essentially immortal. Some are so old that they've forgotten who came first. Or perhaps they always simply were."

"That can't be true," Callisto said. "Even if they were all created at the same time, it would still be a solitary moment."

Nima shrugged. "Therein lies only one of the Fae's many secrets. My personal theory is that we lack the proper ability to understand such things, and so think it is impossible. However, none of that matters. I spent the first thirty years of my life in servitude to a family that treated me with gross indifference. It actually got so bad that I simply wandered off one day, and they never came looking for me." The ancient centaur sighed. "And so, I became a traveler. I saw wonders that made me cry with joy, and terrors that made me fear the dark. I've seen pink oceans in the sky, have spoken with clouds, and loved many, many women."

"Women?" Callisto asked. "Centaurs? Humans?"

Nima chuckled. "’Women’ is a catch-all term in this situation. Feminine creatures may explain it best. If you were older, I would explain in plenty of depth the relations I had with a lonely kelpie."

Callisto was at just the right age to be both extremely curious and a little grossed out. "You were a traveler, then."

"A nomad, like our people of old. I had no home, because the world was my living room. When my bones grew too weary, I made one final trip into the Glass Mountains and made a bed for myself just behind a singing waterfall. At night, I would listen to a lullaby that somehow sang tales of my exploits. I was planning on gifting that cave my bones, you know. And now...I'm here." Nima gestured around himself.

"This world is boring."

The old centaur sighed. "Indeed. It is protected and safe. I..." Nima shook his head, and wiped tears from his eyes. "As you grow, you become different people over the years. This place belonged to a child named Nima, who just wanted to run amongst the wheat playing tag with his friends. He loved his mother's oatmeal. She always made it with just a bit of sugar and milk. That child is like the ring of a tree, buried deep beneath the bark of my skin. He has been gone for a long time, replaced by the man you see before you. This place brings me no peace, nor does it bring me joy. While there may be a sense of closure, well...this is not how I expected my final days."

"I see." Callisto didn't say anything for a bit as the two walked. He could hear Nima's labored breaths beside him, but somehow, the centaur didn't seem to tire. "How did you get so old?" he finally asked.

"Fae diet," Nima replied. "When my journey started, I was just trying to come home. When I couldn't find my way, I decided to make the best of things. One time, I ate the petals of a flower that melted on my tongue. To this day, I can taste it whenever it rains. I can only assume my longevity is attributed to the odd things I ate."

"I bet you have a lot of stories."

Nima grunted. "I do," he admitted. "Not that anybody here wants to hear them. That's the world that took their families. Centaurs are stubborn. They don't wish to hear anything about that place, good or bad."

Callisto bit his lip, then looked at his old friend. Nima had become an outcast in a very different way. The tribe had welcomed him with open arms only to become clingy strangers. They were at opposite ends of the spectrum.

"I wouldn't mind hearing some of your stories," he finally said.

"Oh?" Nima cocked his head to one side, then turned to look at Callisto. "I heard a rumor that you were still terrified of the Fae, much like the others. Do you not hate them?"

"Some of them, yes. But...I have stepped into the human world. I have experienced things there that would make no sense to my kind. What happened was a tragedy, yet I should not condemn an entire realm for what happened to my people. To you."

Nima nodded. "It never should have happened," he replied. "If I could have avoided my fate, I would have preferred to grow old among my own kind, to have children of my own. But if I am to find peace in my final days, it will not be by clinging to a past I cannot have. One must always focus on the joys that they have found. To do otherwise, well..."

The old centaur gasped and clutched at his chest. Callisto panicked, then put both hands to his mouth. "Help, someone, any—"

The walking stick cracked him in the shin again. Callisto stared at Nima in disbelief as the old centaur cackled madly.

"I'm not on my way out yet," he said with a grin. "You should have seen your face."

"You tricked me." Callisto just stared at Nima in wide-eyed disbelief.

"I lived among the Fae. This is child's play." Nima stumbled over a rock and had to lean heavily on the stick. "Shit, that one was real," he muttered.

"You...I think you're wrong."

"About what?"

Callisto pointed at Nima's human stomach. "The person you used to be isn't gone, not entirely. Playful adults are tapping into their inner child, you know. You're letting the old you step out into the sun for just a moment. It's not just some ring at the center of a tree. Maybe if you let it out more, it would help you feel more at home here."

The old centaur straightened his spine and stared down at Callisto with an intensity that felt like a crushing weight. The young centaur stood beneath that gaze, but did not wither.

"I don't remember you being this smart," Nima muttered.

"You probably barely remember me."

"That's not true. You were my friend. Then you were my most hated enemy. The few times the Fae got in my head to torment me, they wore your form. It wasn't until much later that I remembered that we were both children when I was taken. You were just as much a victim as I, only my fate was far worse." The old centaur looked at the sky for a moment, then back at Callisto. "You only get one childhood, Callisto. It's when the magic of youth is at its strongest. While my own is long behind me, yours is still very much ahead of you."

Callisto stared at his hooves. "I already feel like it's passed me by," he confessed. "I haven't felt the same since that happened."

"I know. And that's okay, too." Nima paused to look around. They were in a small glen. "Okay, then, I think this is where we'll do it."

"Do what?" Callisto asked.

"You said you would do anything to earn my forgiveness. I've decided on what that will be."

For once, the old centaur's soul was unreadable. Callisto moved to stand in front of Nima, as if awaiting judgement.

"It will be very difficult, and you aren't going to like it," Nima warned. "You can back out now if you wish. But once I speak it out loud, I intend to hold you to your word."

"I'm ready," Callisto whispered, suddenly unsure of what was about to occur. He looked at the walking stick, wondering if Nima was about to hit him again. It seemed very at odds with what the centaur had been telling him, but this was a very complicated issue.

Nima nodded, then picked up the stick and held it in both hands. He studied it for several long seconds, then planted it in the ground between his feet. "I want you to forgive yourself," he said. "I want you to figure out how to move on and have the childhood I lost."

"Nima." Callisto didn't know what to say. "It's not that easy."

"I know. You said you would do anything. That's what I want." Nima scratched at his nose, then looked up at the sky again. "Life is too short, Callisto, and this burden is far too heavy."

Callisto took a deep, shuddering breath. "Can't you just hit me instead?" he asked.

"No." Nima studied Callisto. "I know what it's like to carry this pain my entire life, and do not wish such a thing on you. Let us plant it in the ground, so that it may someday grow into something more beautiful."

"How do I do it?" Callisto asked. "I know the others still blame me. How do I move forward?"

"Their feelings are their problem. I'm the one who got taken, and I have already forgiven you."

Callisto looked up at his friend, then stepped forward and hugged him hard.

"I'm sorry," he cried. "I'm so, so sorry."

Nima said nothing. Instead, he held Callisto tight and patted his hair affectionately. Once the young centaur was all cried out, he took a step back and wiped snot from underneath his nose. It was then that the old centaur finally spoke again.

"It will be a hard road," he said. "But sometimes, those are the best ones to walk."

Sniffling, Callisto nodded, then tried to wipe all the stains off his cheeks.

"Also." Nima cleared his throat. "I wouldn't mind if you came by every now and then. It's been really...nice...to speak to an old friend."

"We're...still friends?"

Nima shrugged. "It's rather unconventional, but I suppose we are." He cleared his throat, then stared awkwardly to the side. "But if you do decide to come over, I must insist that you wash your hooves.

"Huh?" Callisto was still struggling with his own emotions and wasn't following along. "Why?"

"Because I heard you poop on your own feet." Nima grinned, whacked Callisto's shin with his stick again, and then that old bastard somehow found the energy to gallop across the field, whooping with the stick held high overhead.

Stunned, Callisto didn't even give chase. He could have easily caught Nima if he wanted, but by the time it occurred to him, he was laughing far too hard to do so.

---

Sarah stumbled toward town, dragging her broom only out of habit. Her mind had gone completely numb many hours ago, and it was only through her mother's assistance that she was able to navigate at all.

This time of year, the sun never set on Longyearbyen. It was far enough to the North that the sun would do an odd circle in the sky, dropping to the horizon and rolling across it rather than setting completely. Sarah often stopped to watch the sun, wishing for a world where night never came again.

It wasn't the thought of night that upset her. It was the thought of being trapped back in the dark with the Black Prince.

The distant dwellings slowly drew closer as she stumbled toward them. The dissonant whispers in her ear belonged to her mother, who led her to a tavern near the edge of town. When Sarah opened the door, she actually froze at the idea of walking inside and potentially learning that this was all a fever dream and the world would turn back into shadows as soon as she entered.

A couple of patrons yelled her way, but she ignored them. It was her mother who pushed her in, the shadow shoving one foot in front of the other until she was inside.

Somebody greeted her, but Sarah ignored them. Instead, she limped toward the old woman sitting at the bar next to her broomstick. The Collector was eating a bowl of soup, and was currently in the middle of dipping bread into the broth.

"Oh, good. You survived." The Collector took a bite of the bread and chewed thoughtfully. "This sourdough is quite good."

Sarah sat next to the Collector and drew a knife from her belt. She lunged forward, intent on driving it into the old witch's lungs, only to crush a rose against the woman's sweatervest.

"You seem upset." The Collector yanked the rose out of Sarah's hand and set it on the counter, where it transformed back into a mangled knife. "If you'd like to use your words, we have full privacy. None of these simpletons are even aware of our presence." She slid her bowl toward Sarah. "Here. Try this fish chowder. It's really—"

Sarah cupped the bowl with one hand and slammed it away from them. The bowl shattered against the floor, spraying soup everywhere.

"Fuck your soup," she shouted, then grabbed the Collector by the collar of her vest. Nobody in the tavern reacted. "You left me in there!"

"I did, and you survived. What of it?"

Sarah felt the madness return, a momentary flashback to a room devoid of light and hands that wouldn't take no for an answer. "He did things to me," she screamed, spraying the Collector with spit. "Things I'll never forget!"

The Collector rolled her eyes. "You are being very dramatic about this." She tapped Sarah's wrist, and the witch promptly collapsed against the bar, her whole body numb. It was her shadow that held her up now.

Sarah panicked and started crying for help, worried that she had, in fact, never actually left the Svalbard Global Seed Vault.

The old witch picked up her bread and just leaned back in her stool while Sarah blubbered. After taking a bite of sourdough, the woman shook her head. "I expected you to be made of far sterner stuff than this."

"This...this..." was all Sarah managed.

"Are you going to tell me it was too much? That the price was too high? Please." The Collector shook her head. "Do you think I don't know how you and your mother sealed your demonic pact so many years ago? Tell me, Sarah. What happened to the rest of your coven, hmm?"

Sarah's eyes widened, and her mind was taken centuries back as she and her mother stood just outside a forest glade wearing nothing but their robes. The other women stood nearby, apprehension on their faces as they prepared a sacrificial offering on a small, wooden altar.

Tears welled up in Sarah's eyes. "That was different," she whimpered. "We had a choice."

"Oh, you did. But what about the other witches with you?" The Collector chuckled dryly and pulled at a piece of bread. "Did you know that your mother confided in Amir what really happened that night? She was trying to gain favor, thinking little of it at the time. Naturally, he told me, which made my decision today..." The Collector paused, then pulled out her phone. "Correction. Yesterday. It made my decision easy. I know all about how you entered the sacred ceremony with eleven other witches. I also know that your mother convinced the coven to time the summoning ritual to coincide with their menstrual flow, which can boost the power of a ritual. But that wasn't the real reason, was it? The two of you took herbs to delay your cycle."

Sarah's mind went back to that forest glade, so many years ago. She could still hear the shouts of her sisters as the demon appeared and promised them all great power, then took them sexually, one at a time. The creature had been intensely interested in those who were menstruating, wasting most of his energy on them. One by one, her sisters had died until it had finally settled on both her and her mother.

By then, the demon was not only tired, but found their lack of bloody flow uninteresting. It had taken its pound of flesh while leaving them with their lives.

"If I recall, this creature had a cock like barbed wire. It fucked you and your mother so hard that you both still nearly died." The Collector now sounded like she was chastising a child. "Both of you lost the ability to bear children as a result, your insides scraped clean and—"

"That was different," Sarah whispered. "That was...my old body. This new body was a fresh start for me, one that didn't bear such horrible memories."

"Ah, I see. I guess that makes it all better then. You set eleven of your sisters up, each of them fucked straight to Hell. I bet they'd understand why you're so upset." The Collector's tone was sarcastic. "Power has a price. I needed the Black Prince's power, and decided you were overdue to pay the price."

Sarah shivered, then flinched when a man walked by them. He was wearing a coat and a wool cap, and seemed barely aware of their existence, but she still almost cried out just at the thought of physical contact.

"Fascinating," the Collector mused, stroking her chin much like a cartoon villain might. "I am insanely curious about what things were done to you."

"I...can't..." Sarah was sobbing now at just the thought of telling the Collector what she had endured. Her body was wracked with phantom pain, the psychic trauma lingering behind. All over her body, she could feel burning claw marks, but her flesh was unbroken. Inside was a completely different story.

"Oh, you will. I have an academic interest in it. We can consider it a different type of training." The Collector let out a wistful sigh. "This is why witches were better off with the old gods, by the way. We didn't have to make shitty deals with discount demons. Granted, the old gods are all scared shitless, hiding in their holes, but the world would be eleven witches richer if you had just looked. I suppose I can't blame you, though. The Church really did put out so much misinformation about the craft."

Sarah had tuned the woman out, silently weeping on the counter.

"Your generation is so soft." The Collector sounded disappointed as she stood. "If you aren't going to have any soup, then we should just go. Do I need to strap you to your broom?"

Sarah cried for a good long while before her mother force marched her outside. The Collector, perfectly aware that she couldn't just leave Sarah behind, waited patiently for her mental breakdown to conclude. When they stepped into the sun, Sarah started crying again. She didn't even resist when the Collector forced her to mount her broom, then duct-taped her hands to the shaft.

"Don't want you offing yourself over the Arctic," was all she said before hopping on her own broom and lifting into the sky. Sarah's mind went someplace else as her mother took over, puppeteering Sarah's body as if she were a marionette. As the island of Spitsbergen fell away behind them, Sarah wondered if she would ever feel comfortable inside of her own skin again.

The Collector had gotten one thing wrong, though. She didn’t need to worry about Sarah throwing herself into the ocean, or even killing herself. Sarah knew a far worse fate than what had occurred over the last twenty-four hours waited for her down in the pits of Hell where a demon she had sold her soul to eagerly awaited full payment.