《Tales of Oakwood Hall - Book 1: Nexus》


 Chapter 1

    ¡°Excuse me?¡± a man¡¯s voice said behind me. ¡°Miss Reid?¡±


    I sighed a little. It had been a long day, and I was very tired. The idea of having to deal with yet another undergrad who hadn¡¯t been warned off by his more experienced friends grated on my worn nerves. Speaking without conceit, I am aware that I¡¯m very pretty, and that I set a rather striking figure¡­but I¡¯d gotten tired of random boys asking me out by the time I was sixteen. Although I was still somewhat flattered when the occasional girl asked me out.


    ¡°Excuse me,¡± the man¡¯s voice said again. ¡°Are you Caitlyn Reid?¡±


    I sighed a little again, stopped, and turned to see who was hailing me. To my surprise, it was an older man¡­I guessed that he was in his early seventies. He had closely trimmed hair that had only barely thinned with age, but was nearly as white as my own, and his face was seamed and weathered in a way that spoke eloquently of long years lived gently. The lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes suggested long familiarity with smiling, but his dark eyes were very serious as they met mine. He wore a finely tailored three-piece suit in slate gray that looked very expensive, but also looked like it was a bit big on him; he carried a brown leather briefcase in one hand, and a gray fedora that matched his suit in the other.


    A few oddities there. Curious.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I replied slowly, ¡°that¡¯s my name. Can I help you?¡±


    ¡°Miss Reid,¡± he said, bowing over his hat, ¡°my apologies for disturbing you. My name is Margrave. I represent Summers and Winters Legal and Financial Services. I have been authorized to locate and inform you that, on the event of your father¡¯s death and the verification of his will, you have been confirmed as the sole and legal heir of his estate.¡±


    Father?


    ¡°It is thus my grave and most unfortunate of duties,¡± he continued without pausing, ¡°to bring you full disclosure of said estate, and to ask you to go over said documents,¡± he hefted his briefcase slightly, ¡°with me, pursuant to your father¡¯s instructions as laid out in his will.¡±


    I stared at him for a minute, trying to decide if he was insane, if this was some sort of a hustle, or if he was actually on the level. Heck, maybe there was another ¡®Caitlyn Reid¡¯ at Cambridge, though it seemed unlikely.


    ¡°I see you are unsettled by this news,¡± Margrave said, very seriously. ¡°Perhaps there is someplace nearby where we can sit and talk.¡±


    I blinked a couple of times. ¡°Um¡­I think you may have the wrong Caitlyn Reid.¡±


    He tipped his head slightly, examining me. ¡°My apologies,¡± he said, replacing his hat on his head and pulling a couple of pieces of paper from his jacket pocket. ¡°I am looking for Miss Caitlyn Reid; twenty-three years of age, white hair, one green eye and one blue, approximately five feet, four inches in height, and slender.¡± His fingers danced on the paper with surprising agility, flipping one of the sheets around to reveal a photograph of me that I immediately recognized as having been taken a year earlier during an event at the library. ¡°Currently a resident graduate student at Cambridge University, England.¡± He looked at me again, lifting his eyebrows expectantly.


    I blinked again. ¡°That is unquestionably me,¡± I said slowly.


    ¡°Indeed, Miss,¡± he smiled faintly. ¡°And, if I may be so bold, I could not have done but recognize you even without the photograph. You look a great deal like your mother.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­¡± I hesitated, struggling with his words. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what you¡¯re talking about, honestly. I¡¯m an orphan.¡±


    He blinked slowly, as if it was something he wasn¡¯t accustomed to doing. Come to think of it, I couldn¡¯t remember having seen him blink before that.


    ¡°I apologize,¡± he said, making the papers disappear into his pocket again. ¡°I had thought the initial letter of intent to meet with you would have arrived by this time.¡±


    I shook my head blankly. ¡°I haven¡¯t received any mail lately except bills.¡±


    ¡°The eternal bane of all humans,¡± he said with a nod, a frown creasing his forehead. ¡°But this is most curious. Two letters have been sent to your address here¡­one three months ago on the event of your father¡¯s death, and one a month ago to inform you that we had nearly completed a full inventory of his estate and would be contacting you shortly.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t get either one,¡± I said, shaking my head again, feeling a bit dizzy. I had grown up in an orphanage, had never been adopted, and had long ago given up any hope of knowing anything about my family history.


    ¡°Look,¡± I said slowly, ¡°there¡¯s a caf¨¦ just up the street.¡± I pointed to where a number of large, dark green umbrellas could be seen. ¡°Why don¡¯t we sit down, have a cup of tea, and you can explain everything to me.¡±


    ¡°Excellent idea, Miss.¡±


    A few minutes later we were settled at a little outdoor table under one of the green umbrellas, and while the waiter brought us tea, I took a moment to examine Margrave further. On closer inspection, I found more oddities. I had been correct in my earlier observation¡­he went long stretches, sometimes more than a minute, without blinking, followed by a few blinks in rapid succession and then another long period without. His eyes themselves were rather unusual, a shade of green so pale they almost seemed to have no color at all, shot through with little streaks of gold and silver.


    Up close, his suit - though it had looked perfectly normal, if a bit large, from a distance - was made of a material I couldn¡¯t immediately identify. It hung like a traditional gabardine, and looked like that fabric at a glance¡­but on closer inspection it sometimes caught the light like silk when he moved. And the leather of his briefcase - which I was able to take a closer look at when he placed it on the table and opened it - had the most unusual texture of what appeared to be overlapping scales about the size of my hand.


    Margrave rummaged through the briefcase for a few moments before bringing out a thick sheaf of papers - I wasn''t sure how they''d ever have fit into the briefcase - in an accordion file folder, from which he removed a slim bundle held together by a clip, and a sealed manila envelope. He then closed the briefcase and tucked it away beneath his chair before addressing me directly.


    ¡°I have here the papers you will need to sign to take possession of your father¡¯s estate,¡± he began, touching the thin, clipped-together bundle. ¡°I would encourage you to take everything with you and read the documents in detail before signing anything, as is the standard practice for such an inheritance.¡± He moved his hand to the accordion folder. ¡°In here, you will find a complete disclosure of all of the properties held by him, including those he inherited upon your mother¡¯s untimely demise, as well as a complete financial statement including all investments and liquid assets, personal belongings that he had cataloged, and so on.¡±


    He paused for a moment, leaned forward slightly and continued in a softer voice. ¡°You will understand, of course, that it does not include a full inventory of the House, or of your parents¡¯ personal belongings kept therein.¡±


    ¡°House?¡± I asked blankly.


    Margrave returned my gaze for a long moment, then blinked in his unnatural way. ¡°Oh dear. Am I to understand that you know nothing of your family history?¡±


    I shook my head helplessly, unable to find my voice.


    He sighed. ¡°Bother. This does complicate matters.¡± He sat back and folded his hands on the table. ¡°I¡¯m afraid it¡¯s far too complex to go into here, and I¡¯m not privy to all of the details anyway. Suffice it to say that you have an ancestral home in the town of Oakwood, not far from Glastonbury Tor. You will find everything you need to know there, I should think.


    "The exact location of the property,¡± he continued, ¡°as well as other properties owned by your father, is listed in the papers here.¡± He patted the accordion folder. ¡°I would advise you to go there as soon as possible.¡±


    ¡°I¡­I see,¡± I said, finding it impossible to provide a more coherent response.


    The waiter returned with two cups of tea then, and for a minute we were busy with that. As Margrave set his cup down after taking a sip, he placed his fingers on the thinner folder. ¡°Here, you will find the papers you need to sign, as well as contracts which will enable Summers and Winters to continue managing your investments and properties, should you choose to retain our services. As we have managed your family¡¯s interests for several generations, I would encourage you to do so.¡± He smiled kindly, and I thought there was genuine warmth in his eyes. ¡°Especially if you are unused to managing large sums of money yourself.¡±


    ¡°That would be something of an understatement,¡± I confirmed.


    He smiled again before laying his hand on the manila envelope. ¡°Finally, this contains a letter to you from your father. I do not know the exact contents, as it is a personal correspondence, and it would be improper for us to open it. You may wish to read this first, before looking at everything else. Considering our conversation thus far, I suspect it may explain a great many things to you.¡±


    I nodded, staring at the envelope. A letter¡­from my father. I was having trouble wrapping my mind around the idea, but even still it made me feel very odd. A little light-headed, a little excited, a little scared, all at once.


    ¡°I understand that you must be very confused,¡± Margrave said gently, sliding the envelope and folder back into the big accordion file. Then he laid a business card on top of that. ¡°This is my card. Please feel free to contact me through that number at any hour, night or day, if you have any questions or require any advice.¡±


    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°I¡­thank you, I will.¡± This was all just too much. My head was swimming.


    ¡°I suggest,¡± Margrave said softly, monumental compassion seeming to radiate from his voice, ¡°that you finish your tea. Then go home and get some sleep. Deal with the paperwork tomorrow.¡±


    His words sank into me. It sounded like a great idea. Just the right thing to do. I nodded. ¡°All right.¡±


    I tucked into my tea, sipping it slowly, relishing the warmth of it and concentrating on the flavor to the exclusion of everything else. Slowly but surely my muscles relaxed and my head stopped swimming. When I looked up from my tea again, Margrave was gone.


    So I picked up the accordion file, slipped it under my arm - my bag, containing all of my books and notebooks for classes, simply wasn¡¯t big enough for it - and headed for home.


    Home was my rather tiny little flat. It wasn¡¯t cramped or uncomfortable, and I kept it spotlessly clean and well organized. That¡¯s just the sort of person I am. But I¡¯ve never had much money¡­just what came from a trust fund that the orphanage had kept for me until I came of age, and whatever I made tutoring other students. So my flat was really nothing to brag about. Three small rooms: a combination living room/kitchen, a bedroom, and a bathroom. But it was home, at least for now, and it was cozy enough for me.


    I unlocked the door and slipped inside, closing it behind me. I put my bag on the table, laid the accordion folder from Margrave beside it, hung my jacket by the door, and headed to my bedroom. Once there, I kicked off my shoes, slid out of my clothes and between the sheets of my bed. My head hit the pillow, and I was suddenly, overwhelmingly tired. Too tired to keep my eyes open anymore.


    Sleep claimed me, and I gave myself up to it willingly without a thought.


    I dreamed of walking endless hallways with richly carpeted floors, the walls hung with tapestries and paintings, and lined with doors. Doors¡­dozens of doors, hundreds of doors, in every shape, size and color. They were fascinating, and I wanted to learn about each one.


    I woke in the morning feeling relaxed, rested, and unusually clear-headed. Ordinarily it takes me until after my shower and a cup of tea to really feel awake. That morning, I simply sat up in bed and stretched, and everything came into sharp focus. I couldn¡¯t remember ever having slept that well¡­or that long, really. I¡¯d slept through dinner, and right through the night.


    I went through my morning routine anyway, putting on my exercise clothes and going out for a jog in the brisk, early autumn morning. Then a shower, a cup of tea, and a larger than usual breakfast¡­I was hungry! I had slept right through dinner the night before, after all.


    Only then did the pile of paperwork that was waiting for my attention surface in my mind. It would, I realized, probably take some time to go through and take care of, which meant I was likely to miss some classes.


    I called my faculty adviser, Professor Sheila Levin, and told her my news. She listened in silence as I explained the situation to her, then whistled softly. ¡°That¡¯s quite a bomb to have dropped on you,¡± she said. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    I sat back in my chair and stared at the wall. ¡°I¡¯m¡­I don¡¯t know yet. None of this feels real.¡±


    ¡°I bet! It sounds like the plot of a TV drama. You think it¡¯s on the level?¡±


    I sighed. ¡°Again, I don¡¯t know yet. It sure seems like it, but I haven¡¯t even looked at any of the paperwork yet, and there¡¯s a giant pile of it. Seriously, this folder is thicker than two history textbooks put together.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a lot of paperwork,¡± she agreed. ¡°Look, you take the time you need to deal with this, whether it¡¯s legit or not. I can¡¯t believe a legal firm would do something like this as a practical joke, and you said he had a picture of you, so¡­heck, that¡¯s a little creepy, really. Want me to look into this place for you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d appreciate it to no end,¡± I said fervently, picking up the business card Margrave had given me. ¡°His name is John Margrave, and the firm¡¯s name is ¡®Summers and Winters Legal and Financial Services.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Got it. Give me an hour and I¡¯ll get back to you. In the meantime, I guess start going through the papers they gave you¡­if this is a legitimate chance to learn about your family, you shouldn¡¯t pass that up. And don¡¯t worry about your classes, I¡¯ll sort it out on this end. Just let me know if you¡¯re going to need an extended leave so I can get that set up.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Professor Levin.¡±


    ¡°How many times am I going to have to tell you to call me Sheila?¡±


    I smiled at the long-running joke. She¡¯d been my adviser for five years, through the end of my undergrad and into my graduate work, and a good friend for all of those; she found my continued formality very quaint. ¡°At least one more.¡±


    She made an amused noise and hung up.


    I put my phone back on the charger and stared at the thick accordion folder. Her comment had made me think¡­would I set aside getting my degree to learn about my family? Would it even be necessary to take more than a week or two to look into this?


    I shook my head. Things still felt too surreal, and I had nothing to go on yet. She was right, I needed to start by seeing what I¡¯d actually been given.


    The first thing on top of the stack of papers and folders inside the accordion file was the manila envelope that Margrave had said contained a letter from my father. That seemed, as he¡¯d suggested, like an ideal place to start.


    I broke the old-fashioned wax seal, which showed the imprint of an oak leaf surrounded by a ring of ivy, and opened the flap. Inside were a couple of sheets of what appeared to be old-fashioned parchment, and a photograph, which slid out of the envelope and landed face-down on the table. I flipped it over, and was surprised to see another picture of me. It was an old picture, taken on my tenth birthday¡­I remembered it vividly, because Sister Sarah - the nun standing beside me in the picture - had just given me the Paddington Bear doll that was clutched to my chest in the picture.


    Sister Sarah had never told me who the doll had come from, just that it was a special gift. At ten years old, I hadn¡¯t questioned it¡­just cherished it. Now I realized it must have been from my father.


    I glanced toward my bedroom, where the old doll still sat on my bedside table. It was rather more worn than it had been in the picture, but I had cared for it almost obsessively, and it was still in pretty good shape.


    Suddenly, I was incredibly glad I had taken such good care of it.


    The parchment - which I realized wasn¡¯t actually parchment, but just an excellent reproduction - was covered with thin, elegant handwriting. It was the sort of old-world penmanship that¡¯s rarely taught anymore. My own handwriting was a messy scrawl by comparison.


    It read:


    Dearest Caitlyn,


    I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me my weakness in sending you away. Please believe me when I say that I had good reasons for doing so, which will undoubtedly become clear to you soon. I have regretted every minute of time that I didn¡¯t get to spend watching you grow.


    I kept in touch with Sister Sarah at the orphanage over the years, and she kept me informed of your development and achievements. Margrave, whom you have now met, kept me appraised of your progress once you went to Cambridge. I am so very proud of the woman you¡¯re becoming, and know that your mother would have been as well.


    Your mother, you see, died shortly after you were born. Though her death appeared to be an accident, I have reason to believe that she was murdered - for reasons that will, in time, become clear to you - but was never able to prove it conclusively. I feared that my own life was in danger, and knew that yours would be as well if you remained with me. After the loss of your mother, I could not stand knowing that. Nor could I stand the idea of you growing up locked away in this enormous old house.


    I know that your childhood was lonely, but I also know that it was a relatively happy one. I have so many pictures of you that Sister Sarah sent to me; the one I included has always been my favorite. I hope that you will take it as proof that my words are true, and that I loved you as truly and deeply as any parent ever loved their child.


    I have worked very hard over the past twenty years to ensure that everything would be ready for your eventual return home. I had hoped that I would be there on that day to welcome you home and apologize in person for sending you away, but my fears have caught up with me, and it is unlikely that we will ever meet. I sincerely hope that I am wrong, and that this letter ends up in the fireplace while we laugh together about my fears. But I do not think that will come to pass.


    If I am correct, this letter will have been brought to you - along with what will undoubtedly seem like reams of legal paperwork - by a man named Margrave. He and the people he works for may be trusted implicitly. Do not hesitate to call on them if you need aid or questions answered, and I would strongly urge you to retain their services as I have.


    It is imperative that you sign the papers to take possession of your inheritance at once, and that you return home immediately. Set aside your studies if you must; and oh how it pains me, a former teacher, to write those words (though the irony appeals to me). Your inheritance is of far greater importance.


    And, assuming that I am gone, you will be in danger. I hope to all the gods that you are old enough to deal with it, and wise enough to do so better than I have.


    The House is a fortress, one where you can be quite safe and have time to prepare. Return home as quickly as possible. I have prepared the House''s caretaker, in case the worst comes. He will be able to see to all of your needs, protect you, and teach you what you¡¯ll need to know. In my study, you will find my journals and private papers. There you will find extensive notes about the House, the responsibilities that come with it, and what little I know about the dangers I¡¯ve faced since your mother¡¯s death. The caretaker can guide you to them and help you understand them.


    I am so very sorry, Caitlyn. More sorry than I can put into words. But sending you away was the only way I saw to protect you. The only way to let you be a child without drawing unwanted attention to you. And I¡¯m sorry that I likely won¡¯t be there to guide you through the coming days.


    Do not simply survive, as I have. Win your freedom from this danger. Take your life in your hands and live it to the fullest.


    I hope that someday you can forgive me.


    I love you.


    All my love,


    Your father,


    James Reid


    I realized that I had tears streaming down my cheeks when my vision suddenly blurred. I quickly wiped them away with the back of my hand before they could fall onto the letter. I laid the sheets of paper on the table and sat back, closed my eyes, and cried silently for several minutes.


    I cried for the family I had never known, and would now only know from my father¡¯s writings and through people who might have known them. I cried for my father, who had - for some unknown reason - sacrificed two decades of his life to keep me safe. From what, I didn¡¯t know yet. Right now, it didn¡¯t matter.


    All that mattered now was that I had proof that I¡¯d had a family. I would soon know where I had come from, who my parents had been, and why they¡¯d given me up.


    My father had loved me.


    Nothing else mattered. Not even that he¡¯d sent me away.


    When I opened my eyes again, and dried them with tissues, I noticed the corner of another picture sticking out of the envelope. I reached over and slid it free, revealing a photograph of an older man.


    He looked to be in his mid-to-late sixties, with salt and pepper hair that was brushed straight back from his forehead. He had the look of someone who was perpetually worried, with faint lines creasing his forehead and the corners of his eyes. He wore a casual suit of gray trousers, a white shirt, and a brown tweed jacket. He stood in front of a bookcase that was both taller and wider than the picture, and had a hand raised, as if in greeting. A very faint smile curved his lips, but his eyes were sad, and had an almost haunted aspect to them.


    Automatically, I flipped the picture over to see if there was a date on it. There wasn¡¯t¡­but there was a short note scribbled there, in the same hand as the letter.


    I¡¯m sorry. I love you, always.


    Dad


    I flipped it back over and stared at it for a few minutes, trying to commit the face to memory and attach it to the words ¡®father,¡¯ ¡®dad¡¯ and ¡®James.¡¯ Then I set aside the letter and the pictures, pulled the rest of the papers out, and started reading and signing.


    Somehow, even before Sheila called me back a little while later to confirm the legitimacy of the Summers and Winters law firm, there was no longer any doubt in my mind that all of this was real.

 Chapter 2

    Once I made it past the basic paperwork needed to fulfill the requirements to take possession of my father¡¯s estate, what I found contained within the accordion folder was confusing beyond words. Some of the deeds and investment papers made perfect sense to me; land and building deeds, stocks and bonds, and information about a variety of bank accounts - containing sums that were so mind-boggling to me that they made little impact beyond counting the number of places before the decimal point arrived.


    But other documents¡­they appeared to be more of the same, but were too fantastical to make any sense. I found a number of elegantly illuminated property deeds granted by ¡®Her Royal Majesty Queen Grace II of Albion, Greater Britannia,¡¯ including several that overlapped with perfectly mundane-looking ones for the same, or similar, properties here in England and Scotland. There was one particularly gorgeous replica of a deed for an estate in the nation of Babylonia, which claimed to have been signed and dated in the 1960¡¯s¡­which was patently absurd (for all its gilt and illumination) and had to be some sort of joke.


    The final straw among the deeds was for a piece of property that was, based on the listed Latitude and Longitude, somewhere in the Yucatan. That wasn¡¯t the strange part¡­the strange part was that it was written in two languages, one of which was - I guessed, as I couldn¡¯t read it - very similar to the Mayan pictographic alphabet.


    There were account balances for banks that I¡¯d never heard of in countries that didn¡¯t exist. Documents that related deals made with European governments, but with the names of kings, queens, and other leaders who had never existed.


    I gave up and called Margrave.


    ¡°Miss Reid,¡± he said, his rich tones only slightly diminished by my cell phone¡¯s speaker, ¡°I believe you are allowing yourself to become distracted from the most important element of your inheritance¡­the House.¡±


    Right. The house in Oakwood. ¡°My father¡¯s letter said it was imperative that I go there as soon as possible.¡±


    ¡°I quite agree,¡± Margrave said. ¡°If you will permit me to advise you, I would set aside the other matters in favor of going there at once. I expect that many - if not all - of your questions will be answered there much more effectively than I can accomplish.¡±


    I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This wasn¡¯t an uncommon problem for me, getting caught up in the minutiae of a new puzzle. ¡°See the forest, not the trees?¡±


    ¡°Just so, Miss. With your permission, I will arrange to have modest sums transferred to your personal checking and savings accounts, so you have no need to worry about taking control of the more complex finances. Have you decided whether or not you will be retaining the services of Summers and Winters?¡±


    ¡°Out of curiosity,¡± I said, ¡°how long has the firm been managing my family¡¯s¡­assets?¡±


    ¡°Summers and Winters has been looking after your family¡¯s finances, properties and investments - among other interests - for more than three hundred years, Miss.¡±


    I blinked.


    Bloody hell.


    ¡°I¡¯m in over my head,¡± I said.


    ¡°That is quite understandable, Miss,¡± Margrave responded with good humor and, I thought, some concern. ¡°We will do everything in our power to make the transition easier for you.¡±


    ¡°In that case, I¡¯d be foolish if I didn¡¯t retain your services.¡± I looked at the pile of papers on the table in front of me, pulled the appropriate ones out of the scrum, and picked up my pen. ¡°I¡¯ll sign the documents to do so right now.¡± Without waiting for a response, I did just that without any further hesitation. As I finished writing my last name, I thought - just for a moment - that my signature flashed gold on the paper. My eyes must¡¯ve been getting tired from all the reading I¡¯d done that morning.


    ¡°Excellent, Miss,¡± Margrave sounded completely satisfied. ¡°I will see to the transfer of finances immediately after our call.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I wondered, based on the numbers I¡¯d seen, what a ¡®modest¡¯ sum would be. Definitely more money than I¡¯d ever had at one time before. Probably more than I¡¯d had in the last five years put together, including what was in my trust fund.


    ¡°How will you be traveling to Oakwood, Miss?¡± Margrave asked. ¡°I would advise traveling by car, as it will attract the least attention.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t have a car,¡± I said, wondering why I needed to avoid attracting attention. I supposed it had something to do with suddenly being on the list of richest people in the country.


    ¡°Do you have a driver¡¯s license?¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­¡±


    ¡°What type of vehicle would you prefer, Miss? Sports car? SUV?¡±


    ¡°Um¡­something compact? I don¡¯t really need much.¡±


    ¡°Very good, Miss. I¡¯ll have something ready for you by tomorrow morning, and will bring it to you. I can collect your signed paperwork at the same time. Perhaps you should pack for your trip.¡±


    He wasn¡¯t kidding. At precisely 9:00 the next morning, there came a discreet tap at the door of my flat. When I opened the door, Margrave - either wearing the same suit as before, or an identical one - bowed politely to me. ¡°Miss Reid.¡± He offered me a keyring with a car key and remote starter on it. ¡°The key to your new vehicle.¡±


    I took it, a little dazed. ¡°That was fast!¡±


    He smiled a little. ¡°We pride ourselves on not wasting time when quick action is needed.¡± He held out another keyring, with a half-dozen keys on it. ¡°You will also be needing these, the keys to the House and grounds.¡±


    I took that keyring too, looking at them curiously. One key, a little larger than the others, stood out. It was an old-fashioned double-bitted key, about three inches long and wrought of what appeared to be silver. It had two sets of teeth, sticking out from either side of the key, and a multitude of tiny cut-outs and overlapping sections all along its length back to the loop where it hung on the key ring. The end result was that it looked like it had been woven out silver rather than cut from it, and looked much too delicate to be a real, usable key.


    ¡°What is that?¡± I asked, separating that key from the others on the ring.


    ¡°That, Miss, is the Master Key to the house.¡± I could actually hear the capital letters in the way he said ¡®Master Key.¡¯ ¡°Per the instructions left by your father, upon your arrival it should be used to unlock the deadbolt in the center of the door; not the one above the doorknob, the one in the center of the door.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°The door will not unlock otherwise.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Ah. Well¡­okay, then.¡±


    ¡°Will there be anything else, Miss?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°My bags are packed, and my faculty adviser knows I¡¯m taking a few personal days¡­I guess I¡¯m all set. Which car is mine?¡±


    He smiled a little and bowed again. ¡°If you¡¯ll come downstairs with me, I¡¯ll show you, Miss.¡±


    Which is how I found myself driving a very cute (and very red) new Volkswagen Beetle into the town of Oakwood, about three hours later. Margrave had been very insistent that I leave as soon as possible, and had even helped me carry my single suitcase and laptop bag down to the car.


    It was a wonderful car, nicer than anything I¡¯d hoped to own. Heck, I hadn¡¯t even expected to own a new car, but rather to be buying used for a long time. After a bit of soul searching, I decided not to question what it had cost¡­I could see that the unsettlingly vast sums listed in my father¡¯s papers - now mine - would take quite a bit of getting used to. To settle my conscience a little, I asked Margrave - before I left - to make a large donation to the orphanage that I grew up in, which he said he would happily do, as well as provide me with a list of other charities my parents had made substantial donations to, in case I wished to continue doing so.


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    With that settled, I had allowed myself to enjoy driving the little car, and started the trip trying to imagine some of the other things I could do with my newfound wealth. That felt profoundly odd, and I quickly gave it up as the ideas became progressively more absurd. I put it out of my mind altogether, resolving to simply use it as I needed it, and let Margrave find me places where charitable donations would be well spent.


    My first impression of Oakwood was that of a quaint, pleasantly old-fashioned little town. There was a restful, quiet spirit to it that called out to me immediately on arrival and gave me a sense of coming home that shook me a little. Everything about the town felt oddly familiar to me, even though I was certain I had never been there before¡­or, I supposed, not since I was too little to remember it.


    The car¡¯s on-board GPS lead me through the town and out of it again. With the town about a mile to the north of me, I turned onto a long driveway and rolled to a stop in front of a wrought-iron double gate set into a stone wall that looked like it would be a little over head-high on me.


    I got out of the car and pulled the house keys from my pocket, looking around. There was nobody in sight, the road was empty of cars, and aside from the wall and gates, the only things to see were the woods on the other side of the road. Something felt a little strange to me though¡­not quite right.


    After a moment, I realized what it was. On the other side of the gate, I could see the carefully tended drive, neatly cut lawn, and some trees.


    I looked left and right. The strip of lawn that ran along the outside of the wall was untended, the grass almost knee-high on me. Inside the wall, it was neatly trimmed and groomed, as if groundskeepers tended to it every morning. Neither Margrave nor my father¡¯s letter had mentioned any beyond the still-mysterious caretaker, but¡­for all I knew, they existed. The house and grounds certainly seemed too large for one person to take care of by themselves.


    But why would they only mow the lawn inside the wall?


    I shrugged. This was obviously one of those things that I was going to have to find out about for myself, and I had more pressing matters. Like opening the gate. With only a half-dozen keys on the keyring, including the house¡¯s ornate master key, it took me only a minute to find the right key to open the gate¡¯s padlock.


    Once it was unlocked, the gates swung open effortlessly with a gentle push, their hinges making no sound at all.


    I climbed back into my new car and drove slowly through the gates. Just on the other side, I stopped and glanced over my shoulder. On impulse, I got out of the car again and walked quickly back to the gates, closing them and locking them behind me. Perhaps some of the urgency in Margrave''s manner and my father''s letter was getting to me, but I felt safer somehow with it sealed.


    As I walked back to the car, I got my first really good look at the house. It sat about a hundred meters back from the gate, making me pray that there were some groundskeepers. The lawn - still summer-green - was broken up here and there by big oak trees and irregular beds of flowers and bushes, and was, as I''d thought, more than any one person could ever manage alone.


    The house itself was, to my eyes, magnificent. It was a classic Georgian Palladian design, according to what Margrave had told me, and was a sprawling three floor building with two wings angling off towards the back of the house. It was built of grayish-white stone that had been cut into bricks, and had what appeared to be a surprisingly modern-looking shingled roof, complete with solar panels on one wing. I could see several skylights, a stone portico sheltering the front door and the area around it, and no less than five chimneys. The drive went right up to the front of the house, widening into an area large enough for several cars.


    I was enchanted. There was no other word for the way I felt in that moment. It was as if I¡¯d stepped out of my mundane, humdrum life and into a fairy tale. There was just a hint of fear underneath the wonder¡­or perhaps nerves, more than fear. But that just added flavor to it, and made it feel more real, somehow.


    Suddenly desperate to see the inside of the house, I climbed back into the car and hurried down the drive, parking in front of the portico. I left my bags in the car, deciding that I could come back for them once I had explored a bit.


    As soon as I climbed out of the car, the gargoyle that perched protectively atop the portico drew my attention. At first glance, and even on closer inspection, it reminded me strongly of one of the characters from the old Disney cartoon. Its talon-like toes were curled over the edge of the portico, where it sat crouched, seeming to peer down at me, its wings caped around its shoulders, its forearms resting on its knees. There was a slight, but somehow reassuring and welcoming smile on its face.


    It made me feel safe for some reason.


    The front door was a massive, dark wooden door, carved with a pattern of ivy and oak leaves around its edges that reminded me of the wax seal on my father¡¯s letter. There were a series of concentric rings in the center of the door that naturally drew one¡¯s eyes to the large, old-fashioned lock in the center of the door. There was a more modern-looking deadbolt and knob on the right side, with big black iron hinges on the left, and four iron bands that ran across the face of it at regular intervals.


    The door was quietly solid in a way that was impressive to me. It felt like it belonged on a castle, or an old church, rather than a house. But as had happened at the gates, something felt off to me. I looked around.


    There was no button for a doorbell. No knocker on the door, and no sign of a pull-chain for an old-fashioned bell. But then, I supposed that with the gates and wall, the front door didn¡¯t see a lot of unexpected traffic. I didn¡¯t remember seeing any security cameras at the gates or on the wall¡­but maybe they were concealed or otherwise disguised.


    Following Margrave¡¯s instructions, I selected the master key and slid it into the big keyhole in the center of the door.


    It wouldn¡¯t turn. So I carefully applied more pressure, afraid of bending the delicate-looking key. When it didn¡¯t bend - or turn - I gripped it more firmly and put more pressure on it, wondering if the lock was stuck or had somehow started to rust.


    As I applied more pressure to the key - a little surprised that it wasn¡¯t bending out of shape - I felt a sudden, sharp pain in my thumb. There came a series of soft clattering clicks from inside the lock, and the key suddenly turned smoothly, almost feeling like it was being turned by the lock itself. As I finished turning it all the way around, there was another series of soft clicks from the lock, and the key came free, sliding out smoothly.


    I looked at my thumb to discover that there was a bit of blood there, as well as on the key. I dug out a tissue and wiped both my thumb and the key clean¡­and couldn¡¯t find any trace of a cut on my thumb, or even any evidence that there had been one. When I ran my thumb lightly over the key, I couldn¡¯t find any edges sharp enough to break the skin, even with pressure.


    My eyes shifted back to the lock, where my thumb - I guessed - had left another small smear of blood on the black iron. As I watched, it seemed to shrink, growing smaller and fainter until it vanished.


    I blinked a few times, wondering if I¡¯d imagined the blood on the lock. I shivered a little, feeling - not for the first time in the past couple of days - out of my depth.


    One of the other keys unlocked the completely mundane and entirely mystery-free deadbolt above the doorknob, and the knob itself turned smoothly and without resistance. I wondered what would have happened if I¡¯d tried that first. The door opened as easily and silently as the gates had, and I stepped inside.


    Then I stepped back outside, took a few quick steps out from under the portico, and stared up at the house. The front of the house was, as I had observed, rectangular, squared at the edges, and wider than it was tall.


    I stepped back inside and blinked a few times, opened my mouth, and closed it again.


    The foyer was huge, fully two and a half or three stories tall, with a balcony that ran around the second story. The walls were wood, stained a dark reddish-brown, and broken up every few feet by raised strips running vertically that were decorated with the same pattern of ivy and oak leaves that were on the front door. Electric lights were set in sconces , but somehow I had expected candles, or gaslights.


    But the room was round. Or ovoid, at any rate¡­very distinctly round and wide, with curved walls and two graceful staircases that started towards the front of the room and followed the walls up either side to the balcony. Between the staircases, under the balcony and directly across from the front door, was a pair of double-doors, currently closed, and a matching set directly above them on the balcony. There were two more doors, one on either side of the room right before the start of the staircases, again with matching doors above them on the balcony.


    To top it off, there was a huge three-tiered crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Beneath it sat a round table on a large circular Oriental rug. There was an empty glass vase in the center of the table.


    Everything was dusty. There was a thin layer of the stuff everywhere I looked, complete with a few cobwebs here and there along the railings of the staircases and balconies, and in the chandelier. So much for household staff. I wondered what had become of the caretaker my father had mentioned in his letter.


    I backed out the door again to look at the front of the house one more time, positive that the foyer couldn¡¯t possibly fit properly inside it. I considered climbing into my car, driving away, and trying to forget the sight.


    But¡­heck, nothing about the house felt dangerous to me. The situation was bizarre, and my brain was wrestling frantically with the mismatched geometry of the house¡¯s exterior and foyer, but it was probably just a clever trick of construction.


    Right?


    I nodded a little to myself, went back inside, and closed the door behind me.


    I looked up. Clever trick of construction? Round room in a square house? Maybe some secret rooms or something?


    Nope. My brain was simply unable to reconcile the foyer and the front of the house. I realized why a moment later; the foyer had no windows, but the front of the house did.


    I pinched the bridge of my nose. ¡°I think I¡¯ve fallen down the proverbial rabbit hole here.¡±

 Chapter 3

    Delighted male laughter floated down from somewhere above me. It seemed to come from somewhere in the vicinity of the chandelier.


    I backed up against the door and squinted up, trying to see who was up there.


    Nobody.


    ¡°Welcome to Wonderland, Alice!¡± The voice that drifted down from above was a warm, happy baritone, without even a trace of mockery in it. The speaker had a faintly Scottish accent that made me think of a young Sean Connery.


    ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± I called up, reaching for the doorknob with my right hand. ¡°Are you the caretaker?¡±


    ¡°I am!¡± the voice replied with good cheer, and something made the crystals of the chandelier chime together softly and shed a fine sprinkling of dust. ¡°And you are Caitlyn. I recognize you from your father¡¯s pictures.¡± His voice lowered and sadness crept into it. ¡°You also look a great deal like your mother did at your age.¡± The voice brightened into good cheer again. ¡°I am so very glad you¡¯re here at last! Welcome home, Mistress!¡±


    ¡°Thank you? Please, call me Caley.¡± I stepped away from the door cautiously, peering up with growing curiosity. ¡°Um¡­where are you? And do you have a name?¡±


    ¡°To answer the second question first,¡± he said, ¡°I do not. At least, not at the moment. I expect you¡¯ll give me one before long, as your mother did.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure which felt stranger, that this person had known my mother, or that he didn¡¯t seem to have a name.


    ¡°To answer your first question¡­¡± He hesitated. ¡°Well¡­do you believe in ghosts?¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Pardon?¡±


    ¡°Ghosts,¡± he said. ¡°Spirits of the deceased. Shades, spooks, specters¡­¡± He paused for a moment, then added dryly. ¡°Though personally, I rather dislike the last two. Negative connotations, you know.¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Ghosts. I¡¯d never really thought about it before, so I gave his question a moment of serious consideration, then looked back up at the chandelier, for lack of anywhere else to direct my attention. ¡°I¡¯m not sure, really. I suppose I have no reason not to believe in them.¡± I pursed my lips, then shrugged a little. ¡°May I reserve my answer until I have some evidence one way or the other?¡±


    He laughed. ¡°You¡¯re open-minded. That¡¯s good! And yes, you may. Allow me to present you with empirical evidence.¡±


    Up in the chandelier, almost right where I was looking, something moved. At first, I only had an impression of movement, like watching something out of the corner of my eyes¡­shifting something, causing the crystals to sway and chime against one another. Then a person started to take form, descending towards me as he faded in. From the neck down, he remained transparent and indistinct, a shadowy outline of a body that was barely there. From the neck up¡­


    His head was translucent, but sufficiently well defined for me to be able to make out some details. He had dark hair, maybe black or very dark brown, that was cropped close to his head and brushed back. An amused smile graced thin lips, the strange shadows accenting sharp cheekbones and an angular, hawk-like nose. His eyes were solid, without pupil or iris, and glowing a gentle blue-white color.


    He came to a halt just in front of the round table, a few inches taller than me but a bit less than six feet, I guessed. He swept into a deep bow, then smiled at me and tipped his head to one side. ¡°Well?¡±


    Even without pupils or irises, I somehow got the impression that his eyes were sparkling with amusement.


    I took several steps forward, leaning first to one side, then the other. I could, in fact, see through him. His body, from the neck down, remained mostly transparent and without much definition. On impulse, I stepped right up to him and stuck my hand into the space where his chest would be. It passed into the shadowy form, tingling slightly, but not unpleasantly. After a moment, I pulled my hand back, stared at it for a moment, then looked up at him.


    He didn''t seem particularly bothered by my intrusion into his personal space. Rather, he appeared to be quite amused by it.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said slowly, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. I was struggling to keep myself from freaking out¡­there was, after all, nothing here worth panicking about. Yet. He seemed friendly enough, and my father¡¯s letter had said I could trust the caretaker. ¡°Under the circumstances, I suppose I believe in ghosts.¡±


    He beamed at me. ¡°Rather convincing, aren¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°What¡­¡± I tried to frame my question and discovered that I didn¡¯t have any vocabulary for it. So I came as close as I could. ¡°What are you made of, if you don¡¯t mind my asking?¡±


    ¡°Mainly static electricity and ectoplasm,¡± he said, sounding thoughtful. ¡°Mind you, that¡¯s a gross oversimplification, but even I don¡¯t understand the really technical details.¡±


    ¡°Ah. Ectoplasm?¡± I asked faintly.


    He smiled gently. ¡°We¡¯ll get to that. For now, how may I serve you?¡±


    ¡°Pardon?¡± Oh hell, I was starting to repeat myself. That usually meant I was approaching overload. I took a deep breath and let it out.


    His gentle smile didn¡¯t waver. ¡°My lady, I am at your service. I am the Caretaker of the House, manager of the grounds, manservant to the Guardian, and - especially for you, thanks to your father¡¯s efforts - tour guide, tutor, and protector, within certain limitations.¡±


    ¡°The guardian?¡± I asked. It had sounded like a title.


    ¡°That would be you, Mistress. The Guardian of the House. I am here to, among other things, help with your responsibilities in those matters.¡± As with the way Margrave had spoken, I could actually hear him capitalizing the words. Obviously, it was indeed a title.


    I nodded sagely, as if any of this was making sense to me. ¡°And why does the house need a guardian?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll get to that too,¡± he said gently. ¡°Why don¡¯t we start with something a bit simpler.¡±


    I stared at him. I couldn¡¯t help it¡­he was fascinating, and I was starting to feel a bit dizzy. ¡°All right¡­let¡¯s start with tour guide, then. Show me the house.¡±


    He beamed. ¡°That would take a lifetime, and some. I¡¯ll cover the basics, though.¡± He turned and gestured for me to follow him. ¡°This way, Mistress.¡± He headed towards the door at the base of the stairs to the left. ¡°The house¡¯s decor is largely Victorian, and though extensively wired for electricity much of it remains lit by candles and lamps. Some rooms, however, have been thoroughly renovated, such as the kitchen¡­¡±


    He made a gesture with his right hand, and the door opened, shedding a fine shower of dust as it did. As he passed through the doorway, the lights in the room beyond came on, so I followed him.


    The kitchen was, by a very wide margin, the largest example of its kind I had ever seen. It looked big enough to cook for a restaurant.


    Directly across from us was a refrigerator with a gleaming black door and looked almost large enough to be a walk-in cooler. A counter top ran around two walls of the room, from the refrigerator around to our left, made of some sort of black marble shot through with eye-catching streaks of dark green and blue. It was broken up by an industrial-looking stove, and an oven that looked big enough to cook three or four large turkeys at the same time.


    There was a free-standing island in the center of the room, its surface made of the same marble as the counter. It had four tall, comfortable-looking swivel chairs along the near side of it, and a rack of glasses - of various shapes, sizes, and colors - hanging over it.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    As I turned to the right, I was astonished to see the modern kitchen fade smoothly into an older style. The smooth plaster of the wall became piled stone, the floor transitioning from tile to flagstone. The far wall of the room contained a humongous fireplace, big enough to roast a whole pig in, and equipped with a variety of iron hangars that were presumably for cooking. It was currently swept clean, and looked - as everything else did - as if it hadn¡¯t been used in some time. To its right sat a small rectangular table, just big enough to seat two people on each side¡­close enough to the fireplace to be warmed by it, but not so close as to be uncomfortable.


    ¡°The House transitioned half of the room back in the 1950¡¯s,¡± the Caretaker said, ¡°and has kept it up to date since then. I think it wants to hang onto that fireplace, though.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t blame it!¡± I said, ignoring - for the moment - the fact that he was talking about the house as if it was alive, and turned to look at the door. I frowned a little, poked my head back through into the foyer, then looked at the wall beside the door. I touched it.


    ¡°Problem?¡± the Caretaker asked, sounding amused.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said, looking at him. ¡°This wall is straight. Flat.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he nodded, his lips curving into a smile.


    I pointed to the door. ¡°The foyer is round.¡±


    ¡°Slightly oval, actually,¡± he nodded, ¡°but yes, that is correct.¡±


    I stared at him for a long moment, noticing for the first time that I could just make out a faint sprinkling of freckles crossing his nose. It was like he was gaining definition as we spoke. He raised his eyebrows expectantly.


    ¡°The rooms,¡± I said slowly, ¡°don¡¯t fit together perfectly.¡±


    ¡°Indeed not,¡± he agreed.


    ¡°And the foyer was much larger than I was expecting. Too large to fit inside the house. And it didn¡¯t line up with the front of the house, which had windows, but the foyer doesn¡¯t.


    ¡°Quite,¡± the Caretaker agreed again.


    Obviously, he wasn¡¯t going to help me deal with this.


    I pursed my lips and frowned a little.


    ¡°The house,¡± I said finally, ¡°is like the TARDIS.¡±


    The Caretaker laughed, obviously delighted, and clapped his hands together in approval. Insubstantial as they were, they produced only the faintest of clapping sounds, as if they were very far away. ¡°Insightful and intuitive, Mistress, if not precisely accurate. Though the principles involved are very similar.¡± He smiled. ¡°And I must say, I¡¯m relieved to hear that you¡¯re a Science Fiction fan. It will make some of this quite a bit easier.¡±


    I rubbed my right ear. ¡°So¡­how big is the house, exactly? Larger than it looked on the outside, I take it.¡±


    ¡°The interior of the house,¡± he said, ¡°is not an exact thing. You are correct, though.¡±


    ¡°And the rooms move around, do they?¡± I don¡¯t know where that thought came from, but it felt right, somehow.


    The Caretaker looked surprised, but nodded. ¡°They do, though not very much. Most rooms tend to stay within a few doors of their usual location, and rarely go more than a floor up or down. As the Guardian, you¡¯ll find that once you¡¯ve visited a room, you¡¯ll always be able to find it again, no matter where it is in the house.¡±


    ¡°How does that work?¡±


    He winked. ¡°Magic.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°There¡¯s no such thing.¡±


    He smiled gently. ¡°Come now¡­you¡¯ve accepted my existence, and a house that¡¯s bigger on the inside than the outside. Are you going to balk at magic?¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± I said firmly, then closed the kitchen door and rapped my knuckles on it. ¡°This house might defy my ability to explain it, but I can touch it. It¡¯s real. I may not understand what I¡¯ve seen so far, but everything can be explained by science given enough time and study. Magic is just a slipshod catchphrase for something science hasn¡¯t explained yet, or for wishful thinking and things that don¡¯t really exist.¡±


    The Caretaker considered that seriously for a minute, then nodded. ¡°That¡¯s fair. What if I told you that the magic I¡¯m referring to has its own rules, consistent behaviors, and expected results¡­but that they don¡¯t always line up well with modern science and often seem to bend or break the laws of physics?¡±


    I tipped my head a little and thought about that. ¡°I¡­don¡¯t know. What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Manipulation of matter and energy through means and methods only dimly understood. Is it so hard to accept that there¡¯s more to the universe than Humanity has discovered and classified so far?¡±


    I made a thoughtful sound. ¡°I suppose not. But¡­I don¡¯t understand what you mean when you say ¡®magic,¡¯ then. It¡¯s a word that covers an awful lot of fictional territory.¡±


    ¡°True enough,¡± he agreed. ¡°But I¡¯m here to help you understand it all. It will be my pleasure to guide, teach, and enlighten as needed, while you settle in and take up your new duties.¡±


    I was starting to feel a bit exasperated. ¡°Slow down a minute there. I¡¯m barely managing to accept the nature of the house, I haven¡¯t said anything about settling in! I have classes to attend and teach, a degree to finish¡­¡± I trailed off, then sat down in one of the tall chairs at the counter. ¡°Three days ago, I figured my parents gave me up at birth for some reason, or had been dead since I was born. Now I¡¯m talking to a ghost, while sitting in a house that¡¯s physically impossible, being told that ¡®magic¡¯ is real.¡± I rested my elbows on the counter and put my head in my hands. ¡°I''m getting a headache.¡±


    ¡°Unsurprising,¡± the Caretaker said, his voice very gentle. ¡°It¡¯s an awful lot to take in, and you were ill prepared for it.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t prepared for it at all!¡± I rubbed my face¡­and realized that my brain was already at work trying to sort out some of the mysteries at hand. I¡¯d always loved problem solving and puzzles, and had a natural talent for taking in and making use of large volumes of information. I have a photographic memory, to boot¡­not quite what¡¯s meant by the term ¡®eidetic,¡¯ but I can effortlessly retain information and recall it with ease.


    Now, my mind was grinding through the physics classes I¡¯d taken during my undergraduate days. I hadn¡¯t needed them for my history major, but it was something that interested me, and rounded out my education. Was it so hard to accept that there were things science didn¡¯t know yet? Ways of, as the Caretaker had said, manipulating energy and matter that we didn¡¯t understand clearly? It had been thousands of years before Humanity had started to understand fire, but that didn¡¯t stop us from making and using it.


    ¡°I know you weren¡¯t,¡± the Caretaker said quietly. ¡°Your father hoped to have you here before now, to be able to ease you into this life and teach you himself. But you feel it, don¡¯t you? You belong here.¡±


    I grimaced a little and nodded. I¡¯d felt it the instant I¡¯d gotten out of my car at the front door, though I hadn¡¯t been aware of it. I didn¡¯t even have the words to explain to myself what I was feeling. It was kind of like becoming aware of gravity. You feel it all your life, but can¡¯t explain what it feels like, because it¡¯s not a conscious sensation. It¡¯s just there.


    The house was the center of gravity to me now. I could escape it, just like astronauts do when going into space¡­but never completely. Gravity is always there, affecting you. Even if I left¡­


    ¡°You said,¡± I began slowly, ¡°that I have responsibilities here?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Mistress.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve read stories like this before,¡± I said wryly. ¡°If I walk away, those responsibilities are going to hound me.¡±


    He hesitated, then admitted, ¡°That is quite likely, yes. It would be most unfortunate if you did that.¡±


    ¡°For whom?¡±


    Another moment of hesitation, then the Caretaker quietly said, ¡°Everyone, Mistress. Eventually. In a more immediate sense, for you and anyone around you.¡±


    I lifted my head and looked at him. ¡°You realize how melodramatic and insane this sounds, right?¡±


    He nodded, no smile on his face now. ¡°I am aware, Mistress.¡±


    I rubbed my face, then ran my fingers over my hair. My fingers, looking for something to do, checked on my braid, which was still intact.


    The worst part was, there was a piece of me that was shouting at me to accept it and dive in. There was something here I could sink my teeth into and really use my mind to understand. It scared me a bit, and excited me a lot. But I¡¯m a cautious person. Usually. I firmly squashed the part that wanted to dive in and reminded myself to go slowly.


    ¡°All right,¡± I said. ¡°For now, let¡¯s say I accept what you¡¯re saying at face value. I¡¯m supposed to tour the property at the very least, so¡­let¡¯s continue the tour.¡±


    The Caretaker looked a bit uneasy, but nodded. ¡°As you wish, Mistress. Before we move on from the kitchen, have you had lunch yet?¡±


    ¡°I stopped about an hour before I arrived here,¡± I said, rising. ¡°I¡¯m all right for now.¡±


    ¡°Very good,¡± he said, moving past me and opening the door. I followed him through¡­


    Into a long hallway.


    ¡°Now wait just one bloody second here!¡± I blurted out, my sensibilities and equilibrium disoriented. This in spite of having just guessed - or intuited, as the Caretaker had said - that the interior of the house shifted around. In my defense, I was already way outside what I had previously considered ¡®normal,¡¯ and it sounded like I was about to do a high dive into the deep end. ¡°We came from the foyer!¡±


    The Caretaker nodded. ¡°And now it¡¯s the hallway directly off the foyer.¡± He pointed over my shoulder, and when I turned I saw what appeared to be the same double doors I¡¯d observed in the foyer. Just¡­from the other side. ¡°I suspect the House is just trying to hammer the point home.¡±


    I leaned one hand against the wall and tried to get words out. What I got was a weird gargling noise. Everything was starting to feel a bit swimmy, and my hands were tingling.


    ¡°Try not to over-think it,¡± the Caretaker advised. ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it. Are you all right?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a little light-headed,¡± I said, then took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down. I was not insane. To the best of my knowledge I had not been drugged¡­I wasn¡¯t even sure when there would¡¯ve been a chance for someone to do so, or why they would¡¯ve. I was talking to a ghost. I was in a house that was bigger on the inside, and could move its rooms around. If I let myself freak out at every oddity I was shown, I¡¯d go mad.


    I took another deep breath and let it out slowly. The light-headed feeling and tingles went away after a third deep breath, and I pushed off the wall. I concentrated on the idea that here was a new and mysterious puzzle¡­and something deep down inside me - perhaps the little girl I''d once been, who believed whole-heartedly in every fairy tale and fantasy story - cheered me on.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said. ¡°Show me more.¡±

 Chapter 4

    The Caretaker - if I was going to stay, I needed to name him soon - started down the hallway, away from the front door. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, I turned and followed him, and immediately felt a profound sense of deja vu.


    The hallway was much like the foyer, made of rich, dark hardwoods, with a long wine-colored carpet running down the middle. Here and there, the walls were broken up by nooks with paintings or other pieces of classical artwork in them. The same oak leaf and ivy motif that I¡¯d seen on the front door and in the foyer ran the length of the cornices along the ceiling.


    And there were doors. Every few yards, another door. They were all basically the same, but with subtle variations that made each one identifiably different from the others. None of them seemed to have enough space between them for any kind of rooms.


    After a moment, it hit me. I had dreamed this the night I met Margrave.


    ¡°Each door,¡± the Caretaker said, ¡°is slightly different. Some lead to rooms, some lead to places.¡±


    ¡°Places?¡± I asked.


    He nodded and glanced around, then moved to one of the doors. ¡°Your Master Key will unlock almost every door in the House.¡± He gestured to the door he was now¡­standing?¡­in front of. ¡°This one will make an excellent example.¡±


    I took in the door which, like the others I¡¯d seen so far, was made of a dark hardwood of some sort, with two square insets, larger on the top than the bottom. There was an old iron door handle with a thumb latch on the right side, with a keyhole to match. I dug the Master Key out of my pocket - realizing as I did so that I was starting to think of it with the same sort of emphasis that Margrave and the Caretaker both used - and looked at it for a long moment.


    Then, shrugging, I put it into the lock. As it slid home, I heard the same soft clicking, ratcheting sound that I¡¯d heard at the front door. This time, paying closer attention, I could feel something gripping the key as I turned it. The lock clicked open, and the key was released so I could slide it out.


    I looked at the Caretaker curiously. ¡°What is that? I¡¯ve never seen a lock that actively grabbed the key before.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°The Master Key isn¡¯t merely decorative. Every hole in it lines up with part of the locks used in the House. That¡¯s part of its magic, and part of what allows it to open so many different doors.¡±


    ¡°So what I¡¯m hearing¡­¡±


    ¡°Is the lock latching onto the Key to identify it,¡± the Caretaker finished the thought for me and nodded. ¡°Correct.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡± I slid the key back into my pocket. ¡°That¡¯s very clever, really. Maybe overly complex, but very clever.¡±


    The Caretaker smiled widely. ¡°I think you just described magic in general. We¡¯ll find you a chain or something to put the Key on later. Your mother wore it like a necklace; she said it made it harder for her to misplace.¡±


    ¡°So, you knew her?¡±


    ¡°Very well, Mistress.¡± He sounded a little sad as he replied.


    ¡°Can you tell me about her?¡± I asked.


    He smiled. ¡°At great length. Your father, too. But we should really save that for once you¡¯ve settled in a bit, and have had a chance to digest some of the weirdness you¡¯re struggling with.¡±


    I nodded fervently. ¡°It¡¯s been weird and getting weirder by the minute since I pulled up to the front gate.¡±


    The Caretaker chuckled softly. ¡°I believe you. For now, try the door.¡±


    I shrugged and did. Considering the spacing of the doors on either side of it, I was half expecting a walk-in closet, or maybe a small storage space.


    The door opened inward, revealing a sidewalk and a city street beyond.


    I blinked.


    I opened my mouth to say something, and found nothing to say. I couldn¡¯t even frame a question properly.


    A car cruised past. The driver was on the wrong side.


    Beside me, the Caretaker said, ¡°That is Seattle, Washington, in the United States. If I remember correctly, it would be about a six block walk from here to Seattle Center. I understand there¡¯s some interesting museums and shops there.¡±


    I opened and closed my mouth again. Then I closed the door and leaned back against it.


    After a moment, I realized that the Caretaker was in front of me, peering into my eyes with obvious concern, and that I was dangerously close to hyperventilating. The world felt like it was starting to tilt a little.


    ¡°Take deep breaths, Mistress,¡± the Caretaker said softly, reaching towards me. His hands touched either side of my head lightly, and I felt an odd, cool, and curiously pleasant tingling sensation on my ears and cheeks. ¡°Breathe in time with me.¡±


    He began to count slowly, and after a moment I realized what he was doing. A number, followed by a four second pause, then another number. A breathing exercise. I forced myself to take a deep breath when he reached four, hold it for four seconds, then let it out when he reached five. A four second pause, and I took another deep breath when he counted six.


    By the time he reached ten, I had my breathing under control and had stopped feeling like the world was tilting. I held up a hand and said, ¡°I¡¯m all right.¡± My voice sounded unsteady even to me.


    ¡°My apologies, Mistress,¡± the Caretaker said softly, completely earnest and obviously very worried. ¡°It¡¯s a difficult thing to grasp intellectually, but I didn¡¯t think seeing it would shock you like that.¡±


    I shook my head a little. ¡°It¡¯s okay. I¡¯m just¡­it¡¯s a lot to take in at once.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps we should move on to something a bit more mundane. I could show you the library, or your father¡¯s study. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll like those.¡±


    ¡°I¡­I¡¯m not ready to see my father¡¯s study just yet. But a library sounds good.¡± I gave him what I hoped was a game smile. From the sympathetic look on his face, I suspected it had come off a bit sickly and overwhelmed.


    ¡°Take a minute to catch your breath first,¡± he said. ¡°Let me know when you feel ready.¡±


    So I rested against the door and finished catching my breath while I tried to force my brain back into gear. I had studied philosophy and history, psychology and physics. I could wrap my head around this, and I would. If I could grasp the basics of Einstein¡¯s Theory of General Relativity, I could certainly handle doors that were¡­what? Wormholes? No. Folded space seemed much more likely. But science couldn¡¯t do that.


    Yet.


    Magic?


    Why shouldn¡¯t I call something that science couldn¡¯t explain yet ¡®magic.¡¯ That was Clarke¡¯s Law, right? ¡°Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.¡±


    So¡­magic.


    I smiled. I couldn¡¯t help it. What I was thinking was absurd, but I couldn¡¯t deny the evidence of my own senses, and I found that the simple fact of its absurdity delighted me in a way I couldn¡¯t remember feeling since I was a little girl. I had a huge mystery before me, and it was - in the truest sense of the term - magical.


    I felt wonder.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    The Caretaker smiled hesitantly. ¡°Feeling better?¡±


    I nodded, feeling quite steady as I pushed myself off the door. ¡°Definitely. It¡¯s magic.¡±


    His smile relaxed and became genuine. ¡°That¡¯s right. Someday, how it works might make more sense to you. Until then -¡±


    ¡°Until then,¡± I said, ¡°it¡¯s enough to know that it does work.¡± I shook my head. ¡°It feels a little insane, but¡­¡±


    ¡°But it makes you feel like there¡¯s something special waiting just around the corner?¡±


    I nodded again. He¡¯d put his finger on it. So to speak. "Or maybe I''ve gone insane."


    He smiled. ¡°Your mother used to say that magic made her feel that way. That, by its very nature, magic had a way of making it clear that our understanding of the world was imperfect, and that there were always more things to learn.¡±


    ¡°Science is the same way,¡± I pointed out, ¡°but comprehensible through theory and mathematics. Is magic like that?¡±


    ¡°To some extent, yes,¡± the Caretaker said. He considered for a moment, then said, ¡°To put it very simply, magic is often about bending what science thinks of as reality. Magic is still subject to the laws of physics, to some extent. You¡¯ll find mathematical theories and formulae in magic, too. But it¡¯s also much more than that.¡±


    ¡°I take it that¡¯s what my father wanted me to learn¡­what you¡¯re supposed to teach me?¡±


    ¡°Among other things,¡± the Caretaker nodded.


    I had a thought about naming him, but held off for now. ¡°All right. But maybe we should stick to the house for now. While I¡­acclimate, and decide if I¡¯m going to stay.¡±


    He nodded again. ¡°Very wise, Mistress.¡±


    ¡°The library?¡± I asked, curious to see it now.


    He smiled. ¡°Follow me.¡±


    As we turned at an intersection, I firmly put the exterior geometry of the house out of my mind. The interior was so much larger - and weirder - that trying to line it up with the exterior just wasn¡¯t ever going to accomplish anything. Except maybe driving myself insane.


    I briefly entertained the notion that I¡¯d actually gone insane, possibly around the time Margrave contacted me or slightly before, then dismissed it. That train of thought really would drive me bonkers, and wasn¡¯t in any way useful. I had to accept the evidence of my senses.


    Finally, after far longer than I thought we could possibly have walked inside the house, the Caretaker stopped at a large oak door. Once again, it was decorated with the same oak and ivy motif that I¡¯d seen all over the house since arriving. With a gesture, he indicated the door. ¡°If you would be so kind as to do the honors, Mistress?¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t you open it?¡± I asked.


    He smiled. ¡°I can open any door in the house unless it has been specifically sealed for some reason.¡±


    ¡°Then why -?¡±


    ¡°It would be good,¡± he interrupted me, ¡°for you to begin using the Master Key.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    He bowed a little. ¡°An excellent and very important question, but a complex one. I don¡¯t believe you have the framework to understand the answer yet.¡±


    I considered that for a moment, then sighed. ¡°You¡¯re probably right. So, the Master Key will open any door in the house?¡±


    ¡°With a few exceptions,¡± the Caretaker said, ¡°which is what most of the other keys on the keyring are for. While those rooms need not necessarily be avoided, I would advise against random exploration until you have a better grasp on things.¡±


    ¡°Or unless I have you along to guide me?¡± I asked, half-teasing. Something about his frank, kind way of handling me had put me at ease with him when I wasn¡¯t looking.


    A brief grin flashed across his face, charming and warm. ¡°Indeed, Mistress.¡± He gestured to the door again. ¡°If you please?¡±


    Having exhausted the immediate questions within my framework of comprehension, I stepped forward and slid the Master Key into the lock. As before, I felt that strange sensation of the lock tugging on the key, giving me the impression of something weaving through the ornate structure of the thing¡­then the lock clicked, and I was able to turn the key and slide it free.


    ¡°We really must find you something more convenient to carry the Key on,¡± the Caretaker said thoughtfully as I opened the door¡­onto a room that, far more spectacularly than any other I¡¯d seen so far, simply could not fit into the house as I¡¯d seen it from the outside.


    The library was huge. I guessed that it was easily forty-five meters long and just as wide, and about three stories tall. Row after row of bookcases ran the length of the room, broken up by a long row of work tables that ran from the door to the far end of the room. The walls were lined with endless shelves of books, broken up only by shaded lamps. Balconies with iron and brass railings ran around the second and third stories, and I could see elegant-looking spiral staircases rising to the balconies at each corner of the room.


    My jaw came unhinged and dropped open.


    ¡°Quite impressive,¡± the Caretaker asked mischievously, ¡°isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°My god,¡± I murmured. ¡°How many books are in here?¡±


    ¡°More than there appear to be,¡± he answered unhelpfully. ¡°The library has a vast selection of books on every imaginable topic, from fiction and literature to history and philosophy. I use mail-order services to continually add new material as it¡¯s published. You¡¯ll even find spellbooks up on the third floor, though we¡¯ll get to those later, and several rows of travel guides here near the door. Your father, if memory serves, was in the process of noting in the travel guides which door led to the location the guide was about.¡±


    My emotions chose that moment to gang up on me and override my brain, which was grinding its gears trying to process the library. So, instead of one of the thousand questions I already had about the library¡¯s contents, my mouth asked, ¡°How did he die?¡±


    The Caretaker shook his head, regret etched into his features. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t know the specifics, Mistress. I wasn¡¯t there when it happened, and nobody has been here to tell me. All I know is that he was expecting it.¡±


    I nodded a little. Somehow, his answer didn¡¯t surprise me. ¡°You¡¯re bound to the house¡­which means you can¡¯t leave it?¡±


    He looked surprised for a moment, then nodded. ¡°That¡¯s correct, Mistress. A very good deduction. The House marks the boundaries of my world.¡± Nothing in his voice or expression suggested any kind of resentment¡­he seemed totally content and at ease with his effective imprisonment. Maybe the house was just that amazing.


    I reached out and steadied myself against the door frame, feeling a bit light-headed again. I was definitely approaching some kind of weirdness saturation point. How much more of this could I just accept?


    ¡°Perhaps you¡¯d like to see your bedroom, Mistress,¡± the Caretaker said after several minutes of silence had passed.


    I took a deep breath and nodded. ¡°That sounds like a good idea. At the very least, I¡¯ll have to stay for a few days to¡­to¡­¡± I shook my head. I had no idea what I was going to do. ¡°Um¡­there¡¯s already a room chosen for me?¡±


    The Caretaker was watching me closely, and I thought he looked a little bit concerned. ¡°Your father was quite specific about which room was to be yours. I have prepared it for you.¡±


    ¡°Then lead the way.¡±


    He did, back out into the hall. Down a side corridor and up a flight of stairs. Down another long hallway¡­and I began to get the strangest feeling. A faint sensation of knowing where I was going¡­or, perhaps, of being led to a destination, as if the house itself was guiding me.


    ¡°Caretaker?¡±


    He turned as he moved, the result being that he was now walking¡­gliding?¡­backwards. ¡°Yes, Mistress?¡±


    ¡°I feel¡­it¡¯s very strange,¡± I said slowly. ¡°I feel as though I know where I¡¯m going, or maybe like I¡¯m being led, but not really. It¡¯s very vague.¡±


    He looked pleased. ¡°That¡¯s a good sign, Mistress. It means that the House has already begun to accept you.¡±


    ¡°Accept me?¡±


    ¡°As its new Guardian,¡± he said. ¡°Your connection to it will strengthen as time passes, until you can find your way anywhere in the house effortlessly.¡±


    My skin crawled just a bit¡­but at the same time, there was something comforting in the idea. ¡°That¡¯s a little creepy,¡± was all I could think of to say.


    He smiled. ¡°Your mother found it rather unsettling at first as well. You¡¯ll get used to it¡­after a while, you won¡¯t even notice it anymore.¡±


    Assuming I stayed that long. Something in my stomach twisted at the thought of leaving this magnificently weird place before I¡¯d really plumbed the depths of its mysteries. It already had its hooks in me. But at the same time¡­ ¡°So, my mother was unsettled by all this at first too?¡±


    ¡°Oh yes,¡± the Caretaker said. ¡°And she grew up here, so she was already familiar with it all.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­strangely reassuring,¡± I said.


    He smiled. ¡°You are very much your mother¡¯s daughter. And your father¡¯s. I can see his analytical mind in you.¡± He stopped in front of a door and gestured. ¡°Here we are.¡±


    It was, by far, the most normal-looking door I¡¯d seen in the house so far. A simple wooden door, painted white, with a single large oak leaf carved into it just above head height. A perfectly mundane nail was driven into the base of the leaf¡¯s short stem, from which hung an exquisitely detailed blown-glass fairy, tinted dark purple. It appeared to be in the process of taking off, one knee lifted, feet pointed downwards, dragonfly-like wings extended back on the cusp of a down-stroke.


    ¡°Your father,¡± the Caretaker said, ¡°was quite specific that he meant for you to have this room. He felt sure you¡¯d enjoy it.¡±


    I nodded and stared at the door, feeling a strange sense of finality. If I opened this door, accepted it as my room in this strange house, there was no going back. This wouldn¡¯t just be a place I was visiting to take stock of. It would be¡­mine.


    At the same time, something about this door gave me a warm, safe feeling. You belong here, the door seemed to say. Come in, be at ease. You can hide from the world here.


    I shivered a little and briefly considered bolting for the front door, wondering if the house would even let me find it. I glanced down the hallway¡­and was shocked to see the front door sitting there just a few yards away, abruptly ending the hallway right where the Caretaker and I had been walking a minute before.


    The Caretaker followed my glance, then looked back at me, just a hint of concern and uncertainty on his face. But he said nothing. This was, obviously, my choice to make. Stay, or leave.


    If I left, what then? If I stayed, what then? Could I go back to my totally mundane life at Cambridge? Finish my Masters in British History, start teaching¡­


    Somehow, I didn¡¯t think so. Margrave¡¯s concern and insistence than I come here as quickly as possible, the nebulous warnings in my father¡¯s letter, the Caretaker¡¯s almost jubilant relief to see me¡­


    My old, normal life was, I felt with bone-deep certainty, over. But that wasn¡¯t really a bad thing. What I¡¯d seen of this house, and however it functioned, was simply incredible. The merest hints of the things I could learn here were tantalizing.


    I glanced down the hallway again¡­the front door was gone, the hallway had returned.


    I unlocked and opened the door to my bedroom.

 Chapter 5

    The bedroom my father had chosen for me was a large room. Larger than any I¡¯d slept in before by a pretty wide margin, but somehow not so large that it felt too big. Like the rest of the house - at least, what I¡¯d seen of it so far - it was decorated in warm earth tones, which gave it a cozy feeling.


    The walls were, predictably, stained oak with a matching hardwood floor, and a few small throw rugs here and there. The room¡¯s centerpiece was a queen-sized four poster bed that sat up against the middle of the wall to my right. It had a canopy of forest-green velvet which - as I moved into the room slowly - glinted with threads of silver and gold woven through it. A matching quilt covered the bed, with the end by the headboard piled high with pillows.


    I heard the door click shut behind me, but was too entranced by the room to bother looking.


    The bed¡¯s headboard was a work of art in and of itself. It was darkly stained, and carved with the already-familiar oak and ivy pattern that I¡¯d seen elsewhere around the house. Carved fairies peeked through the pattern here and there, so detailed that they almost looked as though they might come to life. A spherical bird cage, about the size of a football and made of what looked like polished silver, hung from the center of the canopy over the bed. Its little door was open, and was held that way by a very mundane wooden clothespin.


    Directly across from the bed was a fireplace, not nearly as large as the one in the kitchen, but still of a fair size. A low fire crackled cheerily in it, but somehow wasn¡¯t making the room oppressively warm.


    There was a door on either side of the fireplace: the one to the left of it opened into a bathroom - I¡¯d have to look in there and see if it was as grand as everything else I¡¯d seen so far - while the one to the right revealed an empty walk-in closet. A short chest of drawers and a tall bureau sat side-by-side on the other side of the closet, with a small writing desk beyond them in the corner, its top rolled shut and a chair slid up neatly beneath it.


    The far wall, across from the door, was dominated by a huge bay window that ran almost the whole length of the wall. It was broken up into five segments, the two outer ones and the center one divided horizontally into two panes of glass. The top sections were hinged and had small clasps, obviously intended to be opened outward. The other two segments were tall, single pieces of glass, that appeared to open outwards like doors, and were quite tall enough and wide enough for a person to step through comfortably.


    Beneath that was a long bench-style window seat, covered in dark maroon cushions and a variety of small pillows. The cushions left two spots of bare wood beneath the sections of window that opened completely, evidently meant to be used as steps.


    And outside the window¡­my brain refused to acknowledge what it was seeing, so I walked over and stared.


    The window looked out on a grassy glade, with woods perhaps thirty or forty meters beyond. The sun was just beginning to set behind the trees, back-lighting the perfect green leaves - mostly oak and maple, or so it appeared - in shining gold. The sky was clear and blue, darkening ever so slightly towards twilight. A few puffy clouds drifted over, seemingly designed to accent the scene perfectly.


    I turned to the Caretaker and pointed at the window, blurting out, ¡°It¡¯s summer out there!¡±


    He nodded seriously. ¡°Yes, Mistress. In every sense of the word.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡± I turned back to the window, gobsmacked. ¡°But¡­¡±


    ¡°But?¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s October!¡± I turned towards him again, my mind spinning as it tried to digest and make sense of this.


    The Caretaker laughed gently. ¡°Not out there it isn¡¯t. Remember, not every door in the house opens onto the same place. The same can be said for many of the windows, such as these.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense! It¡¯s October all over the world!¡±


    He smiled. ¡°But not autumn all over the world.¡±


    I pointed at the window again. ¡°That is not a location in the Southern Hemisphere.¡±


    ¡°True.¡±


    ¡°So¡­what, this window does time travel?¡± I was beginning to feel that he was having a spot of fun at my expense.


    ¡°No, Mistress,¡± he shook his head firmly. ¡°Time travel is technically possible, but strongly proscribed. It is both insanely dangerous and incredibly difficult.¡±


    I decided to let that go. ¡°Then where is that?¡± I gestured toward the window again.


    ¡°Elsewhere,¡± he replied cryptically. ¡°I¡¯ll explain everything to you in time, you have my word. But this is one of those things that you don¡¯t yet have the framework to understand. For now, simply accept that outside your window, it¡¯s summer.¡±


    ¡°Always?¡± I asked faintly.


    ¡°Always. Though sometimes it¡¯s high summer, sometimes the end of summer with the leaves just starting to turn, sometimes the beginning of summer. But always summer, yes.¡± He smiled gently. ¡°You can open the windows, if you¡¯d like. There¡¯s usually a pleasant breeze. But I¡¯d advise against going out through the window until you¡¯ve learned to defend yourself.¡±


    I sat down on the foot of the bed, sinking into the quilt and the startlingly comfortable mattress. My head was starting to spin again. ¡°Defend myself?¡±


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    The Caretaker crouched down in front of me. ¡°You¡¯re overwhelmed, Mistress, which is quite understandable. I think we should call it a day here. If you¡¯d like, you may bring in your things, and I¡¯ll put together an early supper for you. You can have it here in your bedroom, and just relax for a while.¡±


    Shut out the world for a while, his tone of voice said.


    I nodded. ¡°That is a very good idea.¡±


    When I opened the bedroom door, I expected to step out into the hallway. Instead, I found myself standing on the foyer balcony, overlooking the front door, which was down the stairs to my left.


    I leaned heavily on the railing and put a hand to my forehead, feeling a bit disoriented.


    ¡°Well,¡± the Caretaker said as he came to stand beside me, ¡°that¡¯s convenient, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Very,¡± I replied weakly. ¡°This is just too much to take in all at once.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯ll take a break now. You¡¯ll eat, get some rest, and we¡¯ll start fresh in the morning.¡±


    As we reached the bottom of the stairs, I turned towards the front door and felt the cool, tingly sensation of the Caretaker¡¯s hand on my shoulder. I turned to look at him.


    He hesitated for a moment before asking softly, ¡°You will be right back, yes?¡±


    I blinked, surprised by how insecure and worried he sounded. ¡°Of course. Why?¡± Even as I asked, I remembered my earlier, momentary urge to bolt for the front door and get out.


    ¡°I¡­¡± he shook his head slightly and looked a little bit sheepish. ¡°It¡¯s been very quiet and lonely here since your father died, Mistress. I was a little afraid that¡­what with you feeling overwhelmed and all¡­that you might just get in your car and drive away.¡±


    ¡°I confess,¡± I said slowly, ¡°that the thought had crossed my mind.¡± I smiled at him, feeling the beginning of fondness towards him. I understood loneliness all too well. ¡°But this place is far too interesting. Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t leave you alone here.¡±


    His relief was practically a palpable thing. ¡°Thank goodness.¡±


    I looked at him for a long moment, taking in his features, and the look of hope that had appeared on his face at my words. I considered the strange kinship I was beginning to feel with him, and felt some relief myself that I would have such a friendly and intelligent guide to help me deal with all of the rapid shifts to my understanding of the world that I suspected were about to begin. ¡°One thing first¡­You said earlier that it was up to me to give you a name?¡±


    The Caretaker nodded. ¡°That¡¯s correct, Mistress. Each Guardian since I was bound to House and family has done so. My birth name is lost to the past¡­all I can vaguely recall of my life before was that becoming the Caretaker was a voluntary decision on my part. Though I can¡¯t remember why anymore.¡± He sounded a little bit disappointed, but there was an undertone of resolve and acceptance to it.


    I nodded. ¡°Then I believe,¡± I said slowly, ¡°I¡¯m going to call you ¡®Ken.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Ken?¡± He looked bewildered for a moment. ¡°Ah! I see! From the Old English word cennan¡­to ken, as it were. To know, or define one¡¯s range of knowledge or sight.¡±


    As he said it, he seemed to gain definition, as if he was coming into focus. His features solidified to the point where I could actually see the dark brown color of his hair. The outline of his body began to take clearer form, showing the faint details of a fairly modern-looking outfit of a button-down shirt and jeans, a look I¡¯d always found pleasantly attractive on men.


    ¡°Very clever, Mistress,¡± he said, sketching a little bow. ¡°I approve.¡±


    ¡°What¡­what just happened to you?¡±


    ¡°You Named me, Mistress,¡± he said. ¡°All beings have a Name. It contains them, defines them, and clarifies their existence; it lets others communicate with them easily and understand them better. Names, thus, have power. In my case, it¡¯s just a bit more literal than for mortals.¡±


    I nodded, as if I understood what he was talking about.


    Ken smiled. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it right now, Mistress. All will be revealed and become clear in time. You have my word.¡±


    I returned his smile. He was so totally earnest and warm that I couldn¡¯t help it. ¡°Thank you, Ken.¡±


    He bowed a little again. ¡°My Lady. If you¡¯ll bring your things in, I¡¯ll prepare you a light meal.¡±


    I went out to the car, retrieved my suitcase and laptop bag, and went back inside. I was a bit surprised, and a bit relieved, to find the door to my bedroom now standing open at the bottom of the stairs on the right side instead of the top. It was, I admitted to myself, convenient.


    Glancing around, considering the House - which was starting to take on capitalization in my mind - I politely said, ¡°Thank you,¡± to thin air, then went back into my bedroom.


    An hour later, I had finished a light - but comfortingly mundane - dinner made up of a delicious corned beef sandwich and a bowl of the best chicken soup I¡¯d ever eaten. I was sitting on the window seat in my new bedroom¡­the sunset there had been exquisite, the twilight beautifully peaceful, and now the sky darkened to full night. There were stars in the sky, but I didn¡¯t recognize any constellations. Before I could spend much time considering that, the night brought with it dozens of tiny dancing lights in a multitude of colors. There was something almost hypnotic about the beauty of them and their seemingly random dance above the grass and in the trees.


    ¡°What are those?¡± I asked Ken, who was just putting my dishes back onto the cart he¡¯d brought them in on. ¡°They¡¯re too big to be fireflies, and too colorful.¡±


    He drifted over to sit beside me, smiling. ¡°Those, Mistress, are Fairies. The Russians sometimes call them Polevye, or field fairies, after their old god of the fields.¡±


    I glanced at him and firmly resisted the urge to say ¡®bullshit.¡¯ Instead, I took a deep breath, looked back out the window, and said, ¡°Fairies?¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°Oh yes. Your mother loved to sit here and watch them at night. They can be a bit hypnotic, but only mildly so. It¡¯s quite harmless, and completely safe to watch. You might find yourself drowsy after watching them for a while¡­your mother always said she slept better after doing so.¡±


    A strange sensation rippled through me. I wasn¡¯t sure if it was shock, or disbelief, or a sort of desperate longing. Perhaps it was all three mixed together. I froze in place, suddenly unaware of anything except the implications of his words.


    I turned slowly to look at him. ¡°Was this¡­¡± I couldn¡¯t quite finish the question.


    Ken finished it for me, smiling gently. ¡°Your mother¡¯s room? Yes, it was. From the time she was five, until she married your father and they took over the Master Bedroom together.¡±


    I turned fully from the window and looked around the room slowly. ¡°Is this¡­¡± Again, I couldn¡¯t quite finish the question.


    ¡°Everything is the way she left it,¡± Ken said softly, once again finishing the thought for me. ¡°She never changed it, and your father wouldn¡¯t hear of it being changed after she died. He said he thought you¡¯d want to see it this way.¡±


    I nodded, trying valiantly to sift through the myriad emotions filling me.


    ¡°You can,¡± Ken said, ¡°of course, change whatever you want now that you¡¯re here. It is your room now. We could even find another room for you, if you¡¯re uncomfortable with this one.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± I said quickly, turning towards him as warmth flooded me. A warmth I¡¯d never hoped to feel, and which took me a moment to really understand. ¡°No, this is perfect. I don¡¯t want to change a thing.¡± I smiled at him. ¡°This is home. I¡¯m home.¡±


    The relief and happiness on his face were unmistakable.

 Chapter 6

    I woke the next morning to the muted - but pleasant - singing of unfamiliar birds. The old-fashioned alarm clock on the bedside table, which I¡¯d wound up in spite of Ken¡¯s insistence that I sleep as late as I like and not worry about the time, told me it was a little after ten o¡¯clock in the morning.


    That surprised me. I couldn¡¯t remember the last time I¡¯d slept past seven. I¡¯d always been an early riser, but perhaps I¡¯d been more tired - or, more likely, mentally exhausted - than I¡¯d thought. This was most likely my mind and body finding ways to deal with the overwhelming oddities of the previous days.


    Or maybe the bed was just that comfortable. I¡¯d never slept in a better one.


    I rolled over to look out the windows. Golden sunlight streamed in through the panes, making the room glow with gentle warmth. It was, I could see, another perfect summer day outside my windows. The sky was once more a perfect, bottomless blue artistically dotted with puffy white clouds.


    That thought, combined with Ken''s vague warnings about not going out through the window, made me wonder if someone, or something, was making the landscape so beautiful intentionally. I quickly put that unsettling thought behind me, sat up, stretched, and headed for the room¡¯s attached bathroom.


    Said bathroom was, as I¡¯d expected, absurdly large for a single person. There was a long waist-high counter along the wall to my left as I entered, with two sinks and a tall mirror running the length of it. I noticed now, as I hadn¡¯t last night, that the beveled edges of the mirror were etched with some kind of writing. I leaned close to squint at the letters, but didn¡¯t recognize them.


    Across from the counter was a shower stall, enclosed in smoked glass, and a huge claw-footed bathtub. Both looked large enough to comfortably hold two people at once, or as many as four if they were very friendly. I felt that I might¡¯ve been able to do laps in the tub if I¡¯d been a bit smaller.


    Between them and the counter, a toilet. It was so mundane compared to everything else I¡¯d seen so far that it had actually taken me a moment to absorb its presence the night before.


    Then I noticed, blinking some of the sleep out of my eyes, that my toiletries - I¡¯d left my kit bag on the counter - had been laid out around one of the sinks. In precisely the layout I normally used back at my flat.


    Creepy. Cool, but kind of creepy.


    I decided I¡¯d best start adjusting to that sort of weirdness before it broke me, so I put it out of my mind. Or at least, I pushed it to the back of my mind. I closed the bathroom door, slipped out of the plain t-shirt and boxers I usually slept in, and into the shower.


    It was heavenly. My apartment building always had problems with its boiler, so a really hot shower was a very rare thing, and I intended to enjoy it. I stayed in that shower for about a half an hour, letting the heat sink into me, unbraiding and washing my hair, which was about waist-length now and probably needed a bit of a trim. Generally, I was what I considered to be a bit hedonistic about the experience.


    When I emerged from the shower, I was surprised to see that the hook on the back of the door - where I¡¯d left my nightclothes - was now inhabited by a long, dark green silk robe. It definitely wasn¡¯t mine, but it looked to be about the right size of me. Additionally, one of the huge, fluffy white towels on the shelf above the toilet had been neatly laid on the counter, ready for me to use.


    I was reasonably certain that nobody had come in while I was showering. I hadn¡¯t heard the door open or close. I suspected that Ken could have entered easily, simply by passing through the door itself without opening it¡­but then how would he have gotten the robe in with him? Once again, I pushed the unsettling thoughts to the back of my mind, and set about drying myself off.


    I emerged from the bathroom wrapped in the (incredibly luxurious) silk robe, my hair bundled up inside a second towel. I love my hair, and I love keeping it long, but washing and drying it can be a bit of a chore.


    I walked past the fireplace - a fire still crackling cheerily in it, though it threw very little heat - and stopped. I¡¯d left my suitcase and laptop bag in front of the open closet the night before, intending to unpack this morning. While I''d been in the shower, my laptop had been set up on the roll top desk, which now stood open, and my suitcase was gone, the closet door closed. I wondered if the house had an Internet connection, and immediately doubted it.


    I decided that I needed to ask Ken where the robe had come from, and who had unpacked for me. I assumed it was him, but¡­


    As if thinking of him had summoned him, the bedroom door opened and Ken glided in, followed by the same wheeled cart he¡¯d brought my dinner on. This morning, it was covered with a variety of breakfast foods; the heavenly scents of bacon and eggs, breakfast tea, and some sort of sweet fruit mix wafted over to me, making my stomach rumble a bit.


    I smiled. I think he was trying to impress me.


    ¡°Oh good,¡± he said cheerfully, ¡°you¡¯re up. I hope you¡¯re hungry!¡±


    ¡°Famished,¡± I admitted. ¡°Ken, the robe¡­¡±


    ¡°One of your mother¡¯s. You¡¯re about the same size she was¡­I thought it would be nice.¡±


    Suspicions confirmed. Thoughtful, helpful, and discrete. If he kept this up, he was going to spoil me. ¡°It is, thank you.¡± I pulled out the desk chair and sat down as he rolled the cart over. ¡°That¡¯s an awful lot of food.¡±


    ¡°You have a busy day ahead,¡± he said with a smile, ¡°and I wasn¡¯t sure what you¡¯d like. I hope this is all right. Do you need a hand with your hair?¡±


    ¡°Can you?¡± I asked, surprised. ¡°And this looks wonderful, thank you.¡±


    ¡°I can,¡± he slipped around behind me, and I felt him undoing the towel that was wrapped around my head. ¡°Your mother had long hair, and I helped her with it all the time. She claimed I was better than a hair dryer. Eat up, while I take care of this for you.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t see what he was doing, but as I ate I could feel the odd, tingly coolness of his hands moving over my scalp and through my hair. He worked his way down the length of it, never pulling, always smoothly caressing. By the time I was picking at the fruit - a mix of apple and pear pieces - and sipping the last of the tea, my hair was completely dry, silky, and shining like silver.


    ¡°Wow,¡± I said, running my fingers through it. ¡°How¡­?¡±


    He came around me and headed for the bathroom, his translucent body now containing globules of water ¡®floating¡¯ within him. ¡°Just a moment, let me get rid of the excess water.¡±


    I watched in astonishment. ¡°That¡¯s very clever, and very cool.¡± At this rate, he was definitely going to spoil me. Maybe that was his plan¡­make himself so indispensable to me that I wouldn''t think of leaving.


    Ken laughed, and I heard water draining in the shower. ¡°Thank you, Mistress!¡± He returned, smiling. ¡°Would you like me to braid it for you, too?¡± He looked a bit embarrassed for a moment as he continued, ¡°I noticed you just had it tied with an elastic, so I took the liberty of collecting a hair-clip from your mother¡¯s jewelry box.¡±


    He laid an elegant silver clip of Celtic knotwork on the cart for me to see. ¡°May I?¡± he asked.


    I opened my mouth and closed it again, then nodded. ¡°Yes, please,¡± I whispered. ¡°It¡¯s beautiful.¡± I felt a lump rise in my throat and quickly swallowed it¡­this was where my parents, who I¡¯d never dared hope to know anything about, had lived. I needed to get used to the idea that I¡¯d be seeing, handling, and using their belongings.


    ¡°It would be my pleasure,¡± Ken replied, gracefully ignoring my momentary¡­whatever it had been. He glided around behind me again, and after a moment I felt the tell-tale tightening that indicated my hair was being pulled back and smoothed into place. He was very good at it indeed, perfectly gentle, pulling it back just enough to keep it out of the way without it being severe. A moment later he delicately plucked the silver clip from my hands and secured my hair with it.


    ¡°There,¡± he said, returning to stand in front of me. ¡°All set for the day!¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said with all the sincerity I could put in my voice. ¡°That was much, much faster than I¡¯ve ever been able to do it.¡± I turned my head this way and that, with nary a pull at my scalp. ¡°And well done, this is very comfortable.¡±


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    He bowed gracefully. ¡°I live to serve, Mistress. In a manner of speaking.¡± He winked. ¡°Speaking of which, I took the liberty of unpacking your things and putting them away. Do you have more out in your car?¡±


    I flushed with a bit of embarrassment. Not because the idea of Ken going through my clothes embarrassed me; somehow, that seemed perfectly natural. He was, after all, doing his job. And perhaps I was starting to adapt.


    I was embarrassed because I simply didn¡¯t have that much. I never have. I bought what I needed and little more, and in the splendor of this¡­and then I began to understand why Margrave and Ken seemed to capitalize the word ¡®house¡¯ when they spoke of it. The House was too grand for the word otherwise. In the splendor of the House, I felt almost entirely out of place.


    Part of it was the simple fact that I wasn¡¯t a splashy person. I didn¡¯t spend a lot of money on clothes - I didn¡¯t have a lot to spend on them - and didn¡¯t have much in the way of personal possessions other than books, my laptop, some old gymnastics and fencing paraphernalia, and a few knickknacks.


    ¡°No,¡± I said softly. ¡°The suitcase and laptop bag was all I brought. I have a couple of boxes of books and a few other things back at my flat, but that¡¯s all.¡±


    Ken seemed to sense my discomfort, because he just nodded. ¡°Very good, Mistress. If you find the way I laid your things out in the closet and bureau not to your liking, feel free to rearrange them.¡± He smiled. ¡°I tried to put them away in an order that made sense to me, but your mother¡¯s method of storing clothing often drove me to distraction.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯s fine,¡± I replied with a small smile, wondering just how much of a mess this room had been when it had been my mother¡¯s. I rose and went to the bureau first, opening the top drawer. Panties and bras, laid out in exactly the way I usually did myself, with socks nearby, neatly rolled up in pairs.


    Except that there was almost twice the amount of undergarments that I had brought with me. They all looked like mine, and none of them were brand new¡­but I certainly hadn¡¯t brought an entire drawer full with me.


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± I said. Very intelligent, Caley. Job well done.


    ¡°Problem?¡± Ken asked.


    ¡°I¡­no¡­I guess not¡­¡± I took out a pair of each and moved to the closet next. In an attempt to rise to Ken¡¯s good natured teasing, I said, ¡°For exploring magical houses, the travel guide recommends jeans, a short-sleeved blouse, and sneakers.¡±


    Ken grinned and played along. ¡°Very sensible, that guide.¡±


    I realized that I liked seeing him smile. Somehow, somber and worried expressions didn''t suit him.


    I opened the closet, which I¡¯d explored briefly the night before and had found what I¡¯d expected¡­a walk-in nearly the same size as the bathroom. Absurd, and my clothes would leave it mostly empty.


    Except that, as with the drawers, there was enormously more than I¡¯d brought with me. It looked more like three suitcases worth of clothing. Again, all of it looked like mine; the types of clothing I preferred, in the colors I favored, and none of it brand new.


    ¡°Ken?¡± I asked weakly.


    He stuck his head in and blinked in surprise. ¡°I¡­have no idea,¡± he admitted, drifting up beside me. ¡°I certainly didn¡¯t unpack that much clothing.¡± He uttered a short bark of laughter. ¡°Mistress, I do believe the House likes you.¡±


    ¡°Likes me?¡±


    ¡°Aye,¡± he nodded. ¡°The House isn¡¯t precisely sentient, but it¡¯s very much aware of the people within it. It has¡­expanded your wardrobe, and done so quite expertly. So I¡¯d say it must like you. Or is trying to be friendly, at least.¡±


    I gave him a dubious look.


    ¡°Trust me,¡± he said with a smile.


    I did. ¡°I do.¡± God knew why, I hadn¡¯t even known him for a full day yet.


    He nodded. ¡°Good.¡±


    Shaking my head, I collected a pair of blue jeans and a forest green blouse, murmured a somewhat self-conscious ¡°Thank you¡± to the ceiling, and stepped back out into the main bedroom. I gave Ken a pointed look, and he turned to face away from me with obvious good humor.


    Once I was dressed and rolling up the blouse¡¯s sleeves - I was quite certain it was silk of some sort, though all of mine had been cotton - I said, ¡°Okay, you can turn around again.¡±


    He did, glancing me over from head to toe before nodding approvingly. ¡°You look ready to go exploring. What would you like to see first?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°You tell me. I¡¯m off the edge of the map here.¡±


    He chuckled and nodded. ¡°Shall we start with your parents¡¯ bedroom? I think we can find something for you to carry the Master Key on there.¡±


    I returned his nod. ¡°That sounds like a good place to start.¡±


    We went out into the hallway - it was a hallway outside the door this time, and not the foyer - and Ken stopped. ¡°This is a good time for you to try finding a room. Concentrate on the room you want to find, and see what happens.¡±


    I gave him a dubious look.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter that you¡¯ve never seen it,¡± he said quickly. ¡°Just consider what the room would be like, roughly, and what it was for.¡±


    ¡°All right.¡± So I thought about finding my parents¡¯ bedroom. I thought about seeing where they slept, looking at their possessions, learning more about them¡­


    The wall directly across the hall from my bedroom door suddenly flowed and rippled visibly, like water. After a moment a door melted out of the surface of it and became solid.


    Ken¡¯s mouth fell open a little. ¡°That¡­is not what I meant to have happen. But that works too,¡± he added when I gave him a completely bewildered look. ¡°It just means¡­¡± He trailed off, and after a moment said, ¡°Actually, to be honest, I¡¯m not sure what it means. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen that happen before.¡±


    ¡°That isn¡¯t very reassuring,¡± I said, feeling very unsettled. Why was the House reacting so strongly to me? Or was it as afraid of my leaving as Ken was, and was - in its own way - trying to be charming?


    Ken flashed me a quick smile. ¡°Say what you will, life is never boring when there¡¯s magic involved.¡± He gestured to the door. ¡°Shall we?¡±


    I was still a little apprehensive, but nodded and unlocked the door with the Master Key.


    The master bedroom was magnificent. It was decorated very like my own, but was almost twice the size, and seemed to combine elements of a bedroom and sitting room. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and there were night stands on both sides of the huge king-sized four-poster bed. Two comfortable-looking overstuffed chairs sat in front of the fireplace on the far wall, looking well-used and well-loved.


    There was a large window beside the fireplace that was identical to the one in my room. It even seemed to be looking out on the same clearing that mine did.


    The walk-in closet was like mine, but scaled up for two people¡­in other words, it was almost large enough to be a small bedroom on its own. Everything in the master bedroom felt that way¡­like my bedroom, but scaled up.


    I suppose that made sense. But something still felt out of place.


    After a moment, I realized that it was the simple fact that everything was spotlessly clean. My bedroom aside, everything I¡¯d seen the day before had been dusty. Then I realized that the hallway had been dust-free as well.


    ¡°Ken,¡± I said slowly, turning to look at him, ¡°everything is clean now?¡±


    ¡°Hm?¡± He gave me an innocent look.


    ¡°Someone dusted,¡± I clarified.


    He smiled conspiratorially. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°You?¡±


    His smiled deepened. ¡°No.¡±


    I sighed a little. ¡°Magic?¡±


    ¡°You could say so,¡± he said, being rather evasive.


    I tapped my foot a little. ¡°What aren¡¯t you telling me?¡±


    The question seemed to delight him, eliciting a sunny smile. ¡°All sorts of things. This, again, falls into the category of ¡®things you don¡¯t have the right framework to understand properly yet.¡¯¡±


    I sighed. ¡°Ah.¡± What could I do? Margrave aside - and I didn¡¯t know how much he knew - Ken was my only resource for figuring this all out. ¡°Fair enough,¡± I said. ¡°But you¡¯ll tell me when I¡¯m ready, right?¡±


    ¡°You have my word, Mistress.¡±


    I grimaced a little, moving to examine one of the bookcases. ¡°I really wish you¡¯d call me Caley. If you keep calling me ¡®mistress,¡¯ I¡¯m going to forget my own name.¡±


    Ken drifted along beside me, smiling. ¡°I¡¯m afraid it wouldn¡¯t be proper, Mistress. Though I¡¯m flattered you offered.¡±


    ¡°Is this one of those things I¡¯m not ready to understand?¡±


    He waggled a hand. ¡°Partly, Mistress. Partly, it¡¯s simple propriety.¡±


    The first bookcase I came to was covered in an eclectic mix of collectibles. They ranged from delicate-looking blown glass fairies, like the one hanging on my door, to vintage Star Wars action figures that had been set up in various scene-like poses. There were stuffed unicorns, sculptures of fantasy wizards, and one particularly ugly garden gnome, among other things.


    I gave Ken a weird look. ¡°What¡­?¡±


    Ken laughed softly. ¡°Those all belonged to your mother. She always told your father that she categorically refused to grow up completely. She used to say ¡®I may have to get older, and I may have to be responsible, but there¡¯s no point in being grown up if you can¡¯t be childish sometimes.¡¯ Your father wouldn¡¯t hear of them being removed after she died,¡± he added. ¡°He told me once it helped him feel like she was still close by.¡±


    ¡°He must have loved her quite a lot,¡± I said.


    Ken nodded. ¡°They were beautiful together.¡± He smiled, probably remembering them. ¡°Mistress Chessie - Franchesca, your mother - would say that he kept her feet on the ground, and she made sure he kept dreaming.¡±


    I realized my vision was getting a bit watery and wiped tears from my eyes before they could fall. ¡°Which¡­¡± My voice broke a bit on the word. Ken politely ignored it, so I cleared my throat and started again. ¡°Which of them would you say I take after?¡±


    He smiled. ¡°You would appear, thus far, to be a blending of both, Mistress. You resemble your mother very strongly, but in personality you seem more like your father.¡± He reached out and touched the ugly garden gnome. ¡°Mistress Chessie was a classic example of Attention Deficit Disorder, even after she grew up. Few things could hold her attention completely for more than a short time.


    ¡°Master James,¡± Ken sighed softly, ¡°was quite the opposite. Most of the time. He would, like you seem to, take hold of a problem and worry at it until it presented a solution. Together, they were more than the sum of their parts, as the saying goes.¡± He was silent for a moment, then added, ¡°Your father was never the same after your mother died.¡±


    ¡°How did she die?¡± I asked, fingering a stuffed dragon.


    Ken was silent for a moment, then spoke in a frustrated, almost confused tone. ¡°I know that I used to know, but¡­I don¡¯t now. I have a vague impression of it having been an accident of some sort, but¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s one of the things your father made me forget. I occasionally run across gaps in my memory like that.¡±


    ¡°Why did he do that?¡± I asked. ¡°Doesn¡¯t it limit your ability to help me?¡±


    Ken shook his head. ¡°It was something I asked him to do. There were things he didn¡¯t want you to know before you were ready, so I asked him to make me forget those things. I believe they¡¯re still locked away in my memory somewhere, probably with a trigger to let me remember them when you¡¯re better prepared.¡±


    ¡°It sounds like a plot device,¡± I said dryly.


    Ken smiled. ¡°It does rather, doesn¡¯t it.¡±


    ¡°I suppose trying to pry them out would be a bad idea?¡±


    ¡°Quite likely, Mistress. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s all right, Ken. I¡¯m sure there¡¯s a good reason for it.¡± I wasn¡¯t sure of that, and I suspected Ken hadn¡¯t asked my father to do it at all. I was beginning to get the impression that my father had been in the habit of keeping secrets. Which I supposed made sense.


    Sort of. I mentally marked it as a piece of the larger puzzle, and set it aside to try to fit it into place once I had more information to work with.

 Chapter 7

    Aside from the bookshelves of odd knick-knacks, most of the rest of the room was very sober, and definitely the lair of an intellectual. In addition to shelves of books on every imaginable subject, many in languages I didn¡¯t know, there were stacks of books on the side tables, one of the bureaus, one of the chairs by the fireplace, on the floor around one of the chairs by the fireplace, on the window-bench¡­basically, any flat space that wasn¡¯t needed for walking. Otherwise, it was so tidy as to be almost free of personality.


    Until I got to the closet.


    One side of the closet was all men¡¯s clothing, made up mostly of casual suits (in various reserved styles and shades of brown and gray) and matching shirts.


    The other side¡­


    My mother had evidently liked to dress¡­eclectically. There were more different types of skirts than I had really been aware of, ranging from scandalously short to so long they were obviously meant to trail on the floor. There were jeans (some of them artistically ripped) and leggings (full length, Capri, shorts¡­short-shorts¡­) and every manner of trousers from bell bottoms to high-waisted things. Her taste in tops was equally crazed in its variety. Blouses and shirts, t-shirts (I saw a few with rather rowdy slogans on them) and more.


    Every imaginable fabric and accent was represented; lace, dangling tassels and fringes, silk, satin, leather, and glossy fabrics I didn¡¯t recognize. The one thing any of her clothing had in common is that all of it was done in warm and cheerful colors.


    None of it would be offensively blinding, but I knew at a glance that she would always have been a bright spot in any room.


    Fortunately, her jewelry - when Ken directed me to her jewelry box - turned out to be surprisingly understated. I looked through the box carefully and curiously, feeling I was learning quite a bit about my mother as I went.


    Much of her jewelry was made of silver; rings and bracelets, anklets, earrings and necklaces of every shape and design, many engraved or molded with the already-familiar oak and ivy pattern. There wasn¡¯t much in the way of precious stones or other materials, except gold and some items made of what Ken informed me was platinum.


    ¡°Jewelry,¡± Ken explained, ¡°was the one fashion accessory Mistress Chessie preferred to understate. She always said that jewelry should accent appearance, never dominate it.¡±


    On that point, at least, we agreed. After the overwhelming color and style assault of her clothing - I have always dressed very plainly and in mostly earth tones - it made me feel like I actually had something in common with her.


    While I examined her jewelry, Ken had me set aside a simple but elegant-looking choker made of platinum. After I was done looking through her things, he directed my attention to it. ¡°That was the necklace your mother kept the Master Key on. If you like it, it¡¯s a very convenient way to keep the Key, and I¡¯m certain she would¡¯ve wanted you to wear it.¡±


    ¡°If it fits,¡± I said, picking it up and taking a closer look at it. It was a simple band, completely unadorned, flat on the inside and slightly rounded on the outside. It opened via a cleverly concealed clasp at what I guessed was the back, for there was a loop on the ¡®front¡¯ from which hung a keyring.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t look that convenient¡­¡± I said doubtfully, wondering if I was meant to take the key off every time I needed to use it, or perhaps bend to the lock and twist my head around. That was an amusing mental image.


    Ken smiled. ¡°Put in on, and I¡¯ll show you.¡±


    I shrugged and slipped it carefully around my neck. To my astonishment, it fit perfectly, lying snugly against my throat without being in any way uncomfortable. It was pleasantly cool against my skin, and seemed to have been made specifically for me. I gave Ken a surprised look. ¡°It fits.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Perfectly. I¡¯d hoped it would. Now, put the Key on the keyring.¡±


    I did so, first removing it from the key chain it had resided on, then carefully hooking it - by feel - onto the ring dangling from Mother¡¯s choker.


    Once it was secured, Ken smiled impishly. ¡°Now, pull on it.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Seriously?¡±


    ¡°Try it,¡± he grinned.


    So I took hold of the Key and pulled, expecting to tug my head forward.


    Instead, the choker clicked softly and began to spool out an incredibly fine chain attached to the keyring. I could feel something inside the choker ratcheting ever so slightly as the links emerged, until it finally stopped at a length of a little under four feet.


    I stared at the loops of chain in my hands, then at Ken. ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± I trailed off, incredulous.


    ¡°Impossible?¡± Ken smiled. ¡°Like me, perhaps? It¡¯s just a bit of magical and mechanical trickery. Your father made it for your mother as a wedding present, and it delighted her with its simplicity and cleverness. She never took it off.¡±


    I reached up and gave the chain a gentle tug, causing it to slowly reel back in until the keyring was flush with the choker again. Then I smiled at Ken. ¡°Then I won¡¯t either. It¡¯s something of both of them that I can carry with me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit,¡± Ken said with a wink. ¡°It¡¯s also a wise decision. There¡¯s one other enchantment on it that your mother added later, preventing anyone but the wearer from taking it off, or removing the Key from it. Consider it a bit of extra security.¡±


    I nodded and stroked the band gently. It was so smooth that it almost felt soft beneath my fingers, and wearing it gave me a warm feeling¡­I felt a bit closer to my parents with it on, but especially to my mother.


    ¡°I just remembered,¡± Ken said, poking in the jewelry box. ¡°There¡¯s one thing here your mother wanted you have.¡± He plucked a ring from the box and deposited it in my hand.


    It was a silver ring, the outside engraved with the familiar oak and ivy pattern. As I examined it, I realized that the word ¡°Sparkle¡± was carefully etched onto the inside of it, as if done with a fine engraving tool by an inexpert hand. As I turned it, I found another set of letters on the inside that I didn¡¯t recognize, but which resembled the ones I¡¯d seen around the edges of my bathroom mirror. ¡°What are these?¡± I asked Ken.


    ¡°Runes,¡± he said. ¡°They have a wide variety of uses and meanings, but these particular ones spell out a Name.¡±


    I looked up at him, hearing the emphasis he placed on the word. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    He gave me a mysterious smile. ¡°It¡¯s a surprise. A present from your mother.¡±


    ¡°A surprise,¡± I said slowly. ¡°All right. There¡¯s more to it than the ring, I take it.¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°Put it on.¡±


    I did, sliding it onto the middle finger of my right hand.


    Nothing happened.


    I looked up at Ken again, raising an eyebrow. He simply smiled and said, ¡°You¡¯ll see.¡±


    With a sigh and a shrug, I rose and walked to the mirror over Mother¡¯s dresser to examine my appearance. The choker glinted prettily around my throat, level with the collar of my blouse. For an instant, its appearance gave me the impression that I was wearing an actual collar, like some kind of pet, but that was silly. It did make me wonder a bit if I was really related to the woman it had belonged to. There was something just a hint risqu¨¦ about it, and I was not.


    ¡°Ken,¡± I said slowly, ¡°I think I need to learn more about my parents. Like¡­you keep telling me that I resemble my mother, but¡­¡± I gestured back to the closet, then fingered the choker, ¡°I¡¯ve never worn anything like what she wore, or anything like this. I¡¯m not a colorful person, really.¡±


    Ken smiled. ¡°I suspect you¡¯ll find that you are. We just need to wake that up inside you. Trust me, there¡¯s no doubt you¡¯re Mistress Chessie¡¯s daughter.¡± He gestured around the room. ¡°Most of what you see here is your father¡¯s influence, but if you look carefully¡­look past the surface¡­you¡¯ll find more evidence of your mother here as well. Your father¡­beyond books, you¡¯ll find more about his personality in his study.¡±


    ¡°Which¡­maybe we¡¯ll visit this afternoon,¡± I said tentatively.


    He nodded. ¡°When you¡¯re ready. The piles of books are indicative of research he was doing before he died¡­he was driven after your mother¡¯s death, rarely resting and only sleeping a few hours a night.¡± His eyes took on a distant look for a moment. ¡°Why don¡¯t you look around a bit more in here, and I¡¯ll go put together a light lunch for you. It¡¯s a little after noon already.¡±


    I agreed, and so he left me alone in the master bedroom. I went through my mother¡¯s dresser first, and discovered that she had evidently been fascinated by striped tights and stockings. There were dozens of pairs in so many different colors and combinations of colors that looking at them bundled side-by-side was dizzying. Her lingerie drawer was, by my comparatively modest standards, almost scandalous.


    My father¡¯s dresser¡­I skipped his underwear drawer. Looking in there just felt wrong, somehow. But his sock drawer was unsurprisingly drab, mostly black, brown and very dark blue¡­except for a few pairs on the far right side, which were bright, cheerful, and silly. Things like red and white socks with a mistletoe pattern; tartan socks in an absolutely hideous combination of almost neon green, blue and red; black socks with Jack-o-lanterns on them.


    Mother must have given them to him¡­but they all looked worn, and Father had kept them.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    There, I¡¯d learned something about him which fit what Ken had told me about them. Mother had made sure he kept dreaming, Ken had said¡­and Father had obviously appreciated it. Enough to keep some of the most ugly socks I¡¯d ever seen. That made me smile.


    In a curio cabinet off to one side of Mother¡¯s dresser, I found a drawer full of implements that took me a moment to recognize¡­Wands.


    They were made of various lengths of wood and metal, wrapped in leather, silk, or some sort of cord. Some were capped by crystals and gems, others with their ends pointed and their lengths engraved with more of the runic writing.


    The next drawer down had a variety of bracelets in it, made of silver, platinum, copper, and other metals I wasn¡¯t immediately familiar with. Some were engraved with more of the runes, while others had precious stones embedded in them. There were several rings, similar to the one Ken had given me, but ornately carved with patterns of fire, or waves, or swirls that might have represented wind, all of them etched with more runes. Near the back of the drawer was a belt, woven of a fine metal mesh that looked like a mix of silver, copper, and gold.


    I made a mental note to ask Ken about them and moved on.


    By the time he returned with lunch, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, just looking around. I felt rather dazed, for lack of a better term. Ken, bless him, seemed to instinctively understand how I was feeling and simply served up the food - a sandwich and a salad - in silence.


    I had a lot to absorb. I ate in silence, occasionally running my fingers over the Master Key dangling from my mother¡¯s choker. Ken remained quietly solicitous of my mood, moving only to remove the remains of my lunch when I finished and returning to hover nearby, ready to serve.


    After almost a half an hour of that, he cleared his throat. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯d like to see another part of the House? I could show you your father¡¯s study - ¡°


    ¡°No,¡± I cut him off gently, shaking my head and rousing myself from my mental wanderings. ¡°I think I need a bit more time before I see that.¡±


    Ken nodded, hopefully understanding.


    My father¡¯s letter had said that his journals and notes were there, and I didn¡¯t feel ready to see them yet, let alone to try and comprehend their contents. I knew that I would have to, and soon; I suspected there was information contained within them that I would need, possibly in short order, if I wanted to disentangle myself from the mystery I was finding myself inextricably woven into.


    But not yet. After their bedroom, I needed something to distract myself from family matters until I¡¯d had time to finish incorporating this knowledge.


    ¡°How about telling me a bit about magic?¡± I asked. That should prove diverting.


    Ken moved around in front of me and looked at me closely, his silvery eyes very serious. After a long moment, he nodded. ¡°All right,¡± he smiled a little. ¡°I suppose you¡¯ve seen enough oddities to really start stretching your understanding of reality a bit.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t break, I promise,¡± I said, trying for a bit of humor. But honestly, I wondered a bit.


    So did Ken, from the look on his face. But he nodded and started drifting backwards toward the door. ¡°Very well then, Mistress. If you¡¯ll follow me, I¡¯ll show you to the laboratory.¡±


    He actually pronounced it with five syllables, like he was in an old monster movie. La-bor-a-tor-y. It was so charmingly pretentious that it made me giggle. ¡°That makes it sound like you¡¯re going to be training me to become a mad scientist.¡± I rose and followed him.


    Ken flashed his quick, impish grin. ¡°Well, in a sense I will be.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    We left my parents¡¯ bedroom, which opened onto a different hallway than we¡¯d entered from. That oddity was actually starting to seem normal, and barely phased me this time, which made me think that maybe - just maybe - I was adjusting to this weirdness. Or maybe I was losing my mind. For his part, Ken glanced around briefly, picked a direction, and struck off with me close behind him.


    ¡°Magic,¡± Ken said as we walked, ¡°is a very curious subject of study. By its very nature, magic can be difficult to quantify and somewhat fluid in its behavior. It isn¡¯t uncommon for three neophyte spellcasters to study together, and end up with three completely different ways of producing a similar spell effect.¡±


    ¡°So how do you study it?¡± I asked, more than a little perplexed. ¡°It sounds more like quantum theory than practical science.¡±


    Ken smiled. ¡°In a way, it encompasses both. There are certain principles that are roughly immutable. For example, you can¡¯t make something out of nothing. If you want to create a fireball, you need a way to create the fire, and a way to make it move. Your understanding of physics and chemistry will come in surprisingly useful there. How you get to that point is more flexible.


    ¡°Lightning might make for a better example,¡± he continued, guiding me up a staircase. ¡°You understand the principles by which lightning is generated¡­¡±


    ¡°Positive and negative ions,¡± I interjected.


    ¡°Yes, put very simply. Therefore, to generate a bolt of lightning, one must produce enough charged ions to create the spark. Once the spark exists, creating a bolt of lightning is as simple as extending it into the air and grounding it through your target of choice.¡±


    ¡°That¡­doesn¡¯t sound simple,¡± I said slowly.


    Ken laughed softly. ¡°Well, truth be told, it won¡¯t be. At least, not at first. It requires a great deal of willpower and mental focus to cast lightning. Your mother, for example, liked to imagine the lightning taking shape. Your father preferred doing mental calculations of power output and distance to target. That¡¯s where a lot of the flexibility comes in. Every spellcaster has to find the way best suited to themselves to¡­to encapsulate the spell, so to speak.¡±


    ¡°I think I understand¡­¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s not just about knowing how the forces interact and what you want them to do, it¡¯s about internalizing the desired effect and packing it for use.¡±


    Ken stopped walking and gave me a surprised - and pleased - look. ¡°That¡¯s very accurate, Mistress. That¡¯s a leap of understanding that takes most apprentice spellcasters many days.¡±


    I felt my cheeks warming. ¡°Well, it¡¯s one thing to comprehend it. It¡¯s another thing entirely to put it into practice.¡±


    Ken nodded, smiling. ¡°Very true,¡± he agreed. ¡°We definitely won¡¯t be casting any spells today. Possibly not for a couple of weeks. You have a lot of theory to cover first.¡±


    ¡°Only a couple of weeks?¡± I was surprised. ¡°I guess I assumed it would take longer.¡±


    ¡°Ordinarily it would.¡± Ken started walking again, and I hurried to keep up. ¡°But your father prepared a way for you to absorb the theory more quickly. We¡¯ll get to that once you¡¯ve started to learn the basics.¡±


    ¡°All right.¡±


    ¡°So,¡± he said, ¡°the two biggest hurdles that most young spellcasters have to overcome - aside from that one - are understanding the two laws of physics that can never be completely circumvented: Conservation of mass, and conservation of energy.¡±


    ¡°As you said, you can¡¯t make something out of nothing.¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°Precisely. If you want to make a chair, you can¡¯t just create it out of thin air. You need raw materials to work with. It¡¯s not impossible to convert one material into another, but it is energy intensive, and some materials are more resistant to change than others, so it¡¯s usually easier to simply change a material¡¯s form -¡±


    I held up a hand to stop him. ¡°Wait, some materials are more resistant to change than others?¡±


    ¡°Mmhm,¡± he nodded. ¡°Aluminum, for example, is very malleable and easier to change into another material than, say, Uranium. As a generality, knowledge of the Periodic Table of Elements will give you an idea of a material¡¯s resistance to transfiguration. The more complex its atomic structure, the more difficult it will be to transfigure into another material. There are, of course, exceptions, but it¡¯s a good general rule.¡±


    ¡°Okay, that makes sense. Go on.¡±


    ¡°Where was I? Oh yes¡­so, a lump of iron could be turned into an iron chair with relative ease. Turning a lump of iron into a wooden chair would be more difficult.¡± He smiled. ¡°Turning the particulate contents of a sandstorm into a leather recliner would be exceedingly difficult.¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°I can imagine.¡±


    ¡°Now, some older and more experienced spellcasters can make it look like they¡¯ve created something out of nothing,¡± Ken said, ¡°by doing basically the ¡®sandstorm¡¯ trick¡­subtly gathering enough raw materials from their surroundings to change and mold them into a desired shape and material. But it takes a great deal of skill and practice, and is impractical at best. It¡¯s not something your parents ever did, that I am aware of.


    ¡°Along the same lines,¡± he went on, ¡°it¡¯s possible to change states of matter and energy to produce a desired effect. If you want to throw fire, for example, the easiest way to get the energy for it would be to draw heat out of the surrounding air. You¡¯d feel a brief drop in temperature as the atmosphere in the immediate area adjusted, and you¡¯d have a nifty ball or beam of fire to show for it.¡±


    ¡°Which is the basis of¡­¡± I hesitated, the idea still feeling very alien to me. ¡°Of defensive magic?¡±


    Ken glanced at me for a moment, then nodded. ¡°One of several. We¡¯ll do some aptitude testing once you understand the basics and determine which elements will be easiest for you to work with. Most spellcasters have one or two that they find extremely easy to manipulate, and one or two that are very difficult for them to manage.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± I asked curiously. That didn¡¯t sound very scientific.


    He shrugged. ¡°No idea, really. Personality often seems to have something to do with it. So does the environment in which they grew up,¡± he ticked the points off on his fingers, ¡°personal circumstances, life experiences, who their teacher was¡­¡±


    I laughed. ¡°So there¡¯s no easy way of knowing.¡±


    Ken smiled and shook his head. ¡°Thus, aptitude testing.¡±


    ¡°Got it.¡±


    ¡°Conservation of energy,¡± he said as we rounded a corner and started down a flight of stairs, ¡°plays a part in other ways as well. One of the things you¡¯ll have to learn is how to produce shields. When defending yourself, there are several ways to interrupt attacks: by blocking them outright, which requires an equal and opposite force; by deflecting them, which requires less force but more creativity; or by evading them, which requires no opposite force but can be the most difficult -¡±


    ¡°Um¡­¡± I cut him off, shivering a little, feeling my stomach trying to crawl up into my throat at the idea of fighting. ¡°Maybe we can put off discussing that sort of thing until I¡¯ve got the basics down?¡±


    Ken stopped and turned towards me, smiling sympathetically. ¡°Your reality is changing,¡± he said gently. ¡°One of the hardest things you¡¯ll have to accept is that there are beings and organizations out there in the world - and in other worlds - who will want this House very badly once they realize you¡¯re here, for reasons you might already be able to imagine.¡±


    My mind tried frantically to shy away from that train of thought, but I took a deep breath and forced myself down that mental path. It wasn¡¯t hard, really. ¡°If there are doors that open onto lots of different locations, taking control of the House would make moving from one place to another incredibly easy.¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°That¡¯s one reason, and the most obvious and easily exploited one.¡± He sighed softly. ¡°That¡¯s part of why the House needs its Guardian.¡±


    I shuddered a little. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can do that, Ken. I¡¯ve always tried to avoid conflict, and I don''t know much about fighting¡­¡± Aside from fencing and some basic self-defense classes, which didn''t sound at all like what he meant.


    ¡°That¡¯s not a bad thing,¡± Ken replied, resting a hand lightly on my shoulder. ¡°In past times, the Guardian was more often called to mediate between two disagreeing parties, because past Guardians have always tried to maintain at least the appearance of neutrality. It rarely comes to blows.


    ¡°But you need to know how,¡± he said gently, but firmly. ¡°Your parents died because someone wanted the House awake but unprotected. That¡¯s my belief, anyway. Which means you need to learn to protect yourself¡­and part of that is knowing how to fight when pressed to it.¡±


    Part of me wanted to run and hide, or leave the House behind me altogether. My life back at the university had been stressful in its own ways, but vastly more safe by comparison and far less mind-bending and confusing.


    But I was not a coward. I had always met challenges - mainly intellectual ones, granted - head on. Leaving this House would mean abandoning my only way of ever getting to know my parents and learning about my family history. To judge from my father¡¯s letter and Margrave¡¯s urgency, it might also put me - now unprotected by my father hiding me - in danger from¡­something.


    And it would mean leaving Ken behind. He could not come with me if I left the House, and I was surprised by how much that idea made my heart ache, and by how quickly I¡¯d grown fond of him. I wasn¡¯t used to caring about other people, if Ken could be classified as ¡®people¡¯¡­when you grow up in an orphanage, you learn to take care of yourself because nobody else is going to, and you learn not to make strong attachments. Everyone goes away, sooner or later.


    But Ken had endeared himself to me very quickly. The idea of leaving him alone here wasn¡¯t something I was willing to consider. I knew too much about being alone¡­nobody should be. We were in this together.


    So I took a deep breath and pushed down my fear. ¡°Okay.¡±


    Ken smiled, obviously a bit relieved. ¡°It will be, eventually. Give it time and training.¡±


    ¡°Do I have time?¡± I heard the quaver in my own voice and hated it.


    He considered the question seriously before nodding. ¡°Yes, I believe so. But come¡­there¡¯s much more to magic than blasting things to bits.¡±

 Chapter 8

    ¡°Such as?¡± I asked as we started walking again.


    ¡°Well, all sorts of things,¡± Ken replied. ¡°Magic is a tool like any other, just a bit more flexible than most and requiring more creativity. There¡¯s shapeshifting, for example, though that¡¯s a highly complex branch of magic, and an offshoot of Transmutation, which you¡¯ll be learning first.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what you were talking about before when you mentioned transfiguration, right?¡± I said, putting pieces together in my mind. ¡°Changing one substance into another? Which, incidentally, sounds incredibly useful.¡±


    ¡°It is,¡± Ken agreed, ¡°but there¡¯s more to it than that. Transmutation covers that, the reshaping of objects into other objects, and lots of similar disciplines. It used to be called Alchemy, but many thought that was too narrow a name for it.¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± I took a few steps before asking, ¡°So¡­the Philosopher¡¯s Stone¡­?¡±


    ¡°Is a real substance, yes,¡± Ken said with a nod. ¡°It is, however, extremely difficult and dangerous to make.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± I said dryly. ¡°It would have to be, or it wouldn¡¯t be so incredibly rare.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± he smiled. ¡°It¡¯s also not actually a stone, but that¡¯s another story. Let¡¯s see¡­there¡¯s Divination¡­¡±


    He must¡¯ve seen the instantly dubious look on my face, because he chuckled. ¡°Oh yes. Astrology, fortune telling, scrying, remote viewing¡­it¡¯s all real, and one of the most useful branches of magic you can learn.¡± He paused briefly, then smiled wryly. ¡°Of course, attempting to tell the future in any way is a difficult task by any means. The best one can hope to do is predict the most likely course of events, so caution is always needed.¡±


    ¡°So¡­it¡¯s more like calculating probabilities rather than ¡®seeing the future,¡¯ so to speak.¡±


    ¡°In a way,¡± Ken nodded. ¡°It¡¯s very complicated, and a skill that very few spellcasters have a real talent for. Then there¡¯s Summoning, which we won¡¯t get into for quite a while, for reasons you can probably guess.¡±


    ¡°Too dangerous,¡± I said. It wasn¡¯t a question. I¡¯d read plenty of fantasy stories, and summoning things usually didn¡¯t end well even in the best of circumstances.


    ¡°Quite,¡± Ken said flatly. ¡°I suppose I¡¯m saying that a lot. I want to impress on you the caution you¡¯ll need while learning some of these skills.¡±


    ¡°Consider me cautioned.¡±


    ¡°Excellent.¡± Ken looked both pleased and relieved.


    ¡°What else is there?¡±


    ¡°Well, there¡¯s healing magic, which is obviously of great value. And Enchanting, which is weaving magic into the substance of mundane objects¡­usually things like jewelry, swords, books, that sort of thing. And all sorts of different types of Ritual Magic, which can overlap with pretty much every other branch of magic. And, of course, Evocation. Combat magic.¡±


    ¡°And defensive magic?¡±I asked.


    ¡°Indeed. It¡¯s part of the same branch, and uses many of the same principles. As you learn one,¡± he said, ¡°you will learn the other.¡±


    I digested that in silence as we walked. It made sense to me that offensive and defensive magic would be intertwined in that way, as they would inevitably involve opposing forces. ¡°It¡¯s like ballistics, I suppose,¡± I said thoughtfully. ¡°When you understand how and why a bullet behaves the way it does, you¡¯ll be better prepared to figure out how best to design protections against it.¡±


    Ken considered that, then shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not a perfect analogy, but it¡¯s close enough for our purposes right now. And here we are.¡±


    He stopped in front of an incredibly ornate door. It appeared to be made of iron, and was covered with runes and strange patterns made of gold, silver, quartz, and what I thought might be obsidian, all of them embedded in the surface of the door. The door¡¯s edges were bordered with a thin row of spidery writing that were both similar to and entirely unlike the other runes, and which had been carefully filled in with some kind of opalescent paint. There was no door knob or handle, just a lock, and the hinges looked heavy and solid.


    ¡°That,¡± I said in a subdued voice, ¡°is quite a door.¡±


    Ken chuckled softly. ¡°Yes it is. Come closer, I want you to try something. Consider it your first real magic lesson.¡±


    ¡°All right,¡± I stepped up beside him, close to the door, and tried to ignore the nervous flip of my stomach.


    ¡°In magic,¡± Ken said, ¡°all practitioners - all of the ones I¡¯m aware of, at any rate - agree on one thing above all else: The most efficient way to channel power is by gathering it with your left hand, and projecting it with your right.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± I asked curiously. I was right-handed, but I imagined there had to be some left-handed wizards out there who felt a bit irked by that rule.


    Ken shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m honestly not sure. The metaphysical laws of the universe aren¡¯t as easily explained as they are defined, and often actively defy explanation. I¡¯m familiar with no less than two dozen theories as to why energy channels most easily from left to right, and several of them are directly contradictory.¡±


    I stared at him.


    He smiled a little and shrugged again. ¡°Best to just accept it for now. Learn how magic works, and worry about why it works later. Some spellcasters have dedicated their lives to the question of why magic works the way it does, and the answers they¡¯ve reached are - once again - contradictory.¡±


    I blew out a somewhat frustrated breath¡­I was used to ¡®why¡¯ having an answer, however complex it might be. ¡°All right¡­¡±


    Ken chuckled softly. ¡°It bothered your mother at first too. At any rate, what this all means is that energy is best sensed using the left hand. What I want you to do is hold up your left hand¡­yes, just like that. Now spread your fingers, and hold your hand a few inches from the surface of the door.¡±


    I did¡­and after a moment I felt a strange, almost electric pressure against the palm of my hand. It made the skin there tingle a little, and almost seemed to be pushing against my hand. ¡°I feel¡­something. Some kind of pressure, maybe?¡±


    ¡°Excellent!¡± Ken said happily. ¡°That¡¯s a very good start. Now, concentrate on what you¡¯re feeling, and move your hand slowly over the door without actually touching it. This door is heavily enchanted, and you might be able to get a sense of what the enchantments are by what they feel like.¡±


    I gave Ken a long, slightly doubting look, then turned my attention back to the door. I concentrated on my left hand, on what I was feeling as I slowly traced the surface of the door. As my hand passed over one of the obsidian runes, I felt an increase of the pressure against my palm, and paused there. ¡°This one,¡± I said slowly. ¡°It feels like it¡¯s actively pushing against my hand.¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°Very good! That rune, and the others like it, make up a force ward designed to repel anyone who touches the door when they shouldn¡¯t be. It¡¯s not very powerful, as such things go, but sufficient to knock a grown man off his feet.¡±


    I pulled my hand back from it. ¡°Yikes. Why the security? I mean¡­if it is security. I¡¯m making an assumption.¡±


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°And a good one,¡± Ken confirmed. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you before you open the door. For now, let¡¯s continue the lesson.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to set these off, am I?¡± I asked nervously.


    Ken smiled. ¡°Not unless you touch them. Now, hand to the door¡­¡±


    I relaxed and returned his smile. ¡°Yes, Professor.¡± I turned my attention back to my hand again as Ken laughed softly, and began moving my hand over the door again, being careful not to touch it. When my hand passed over one of the embedded silver runes, the tingling sensation increased so much that I pulled my hand back from it instinctively. ¡°This one does something involving electricity?¡±


    Ken looked surprised and pleased. ¡°Yes! Very good! Those make up the anchor of a ward which adds a Taser-like effect to the force ward.¡±


    ¡°You know what a Taser is?¡± For some reason, my brain had jumped to that. Maybe it was just trying to cling to something that was part of my old view of ¡®normal.¡¯ Or maybe it just felt out of place for a ghost to be discussing Tasers.


    Ken smiled. ¡°I watch television when I¡¯m very, very bored, and your father had a subscription to Popular Science for a long time. And, of course, I read books. Lots and lots of books.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I felt a bit silly. ¡°Of course.¡±


    Ken gestured to the door, still smiling. ¡°What about the gold runes, or the quartz?¡±


    I resumed my survey of the door, passing my hand over one of the embedded gold runes. I felt warmth against my palm as I did. ¡°Something to do with fire?¡± I guessed.


    Ken nodded. ¡°Very good.¡±


    One of the quartz runes seemed to pull on my hand instead of pushing against it, but it was a gentle pull rather than a strong tug. Like a weak magnetic effect. After a minute of considering this, I shook my head. ¡°I¡¯m not sure about this one.¡±


    Ken smiled. ¡°That¡¯s all right. It¡¯s a complicated one. I¡¯ll explain in a minute. How about the runes around the edge of the door?¡±


    I shifted my attention to them, gliding my hand over them. As I moved down their length, I got a distinct impression of secrecy and protectiveness, of careful attention and quiet watchfulness, somehow tied to the quartz runes. After a moment, I got it. ¡°It¡¯s a lock. They¡¯re keeping the door sealed. And they have something to do with the larger quartz runes.¡±


    Ken looked impressed, which made my cheeks heat up again. ¡°That¡¯s right. That¡¯s really excellent, Mistress. You¡¯re a natural. But I shouldn¡¯t be surprised¡­your mother took to this sort of lesson quickly too. These runes, together with the quartz ones, make up a set of blood wards that prevent anyone outside of your bloodline from opening this door, even if they have the key for it. Your parents put these wards into place¡­and added an exception for me, of course.¡±


    I looked at him for a long moment. ¡°I imagine you¡¯ll tell me why the security is necessary at some point?¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°When you¡¯re ready.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to hear that a lot at first, aren¡¯t I.¡± I felt only a little indignant about it. But more than that, I trusted Ken to judge when I was ready.


    Ken smiled. ¡°Quite a bit.¡±


    ¡°So this door,¡± I said, ¡°it¡¯s not going to zap me, torch me, and blast me into the far wall when I touch it?¡±


    He laughed. ¡°No. Go ahead and open it.¡±


    I freely admit to feeling just a bit nervous and hesitant as I slid the Master Key into the lock. I was, after all, dealing with forces that I absolutely did not understand yet. That¡¯ll make anybody with half a brain and a smidgen of good sense nervous.


    To my relief, the door didn¡¯t shock me, roast me, or blast me off my feet. It unlocked smoothly, and opened onto the most weirdly fascinating room I¡¯d seen in the house so far.


    It was a circular room, lit by a mixture of torches evenly spaced around the room in wall sconces, and by what appeared to be quartz crystals that glowed brightly with clear white light and were embedded in the ceiling. The room was easily twenty meters across, and was filled with a mix of free-standing bookcases and worktables, surrounding a large circular area in the middle.


    The worktables were of several heights; some were low enough to sit at, others were obviously meant for standing work. They were covered in a vast variety of tools and instruments, some of which I recognized (various beakers and flasks, a few Bunsen burners, writing and drafting tools, a large mortar and pestle, and more), while others were of such bizarre design that I couldn¡¯t even begin to figure out what they might be used for. Each table had one or two of the glowing crystals attached to them on hinged swing-arms, providing excellent illumination.


    The bookcases were crammed full to bursting with - what was to my sensibilities, at least - rather haphazardly stacked and shelved books of every shape and size. In just the bookcase nearest to the door, I saw a canvas-covered book small enough to fit in the palm of my hand, sitting on top of a leather-bound tome that had a two-foot long spine and was comfortably a foot thick.


    But it was the free space in the center of the room that really drew my attention. The space was completely free of the clutter that threatened to overflow from the rest of the room, and was instead dominated by what I guessed was one of the magic circles that Ken had mentioned earlier. Only it was considerably more complex and ornate than what I¡¯d been imagining.


    It was a little more than four meters across - about fifteen feet, I guessed - and was undeniably a work of art, made up of several distinct elements that blended together into something beautiful and elegant. The outermost circle was a tightly braided double helix made of silver, platinum, or both (I later learned it was both). Two feet in from that was a second circle made of steel and copper, likewise woven together into a helix.


    Between them, golden runes were embedded into the floor to form another circle. They appeared to be broken up into words or phrases, visibly divided by fist-sized uncut gemstones in a rainbow of colors. In the very center of the circle, strips of metal (again embedded in the otherwise unbroken stone floor) - I thought they were gold, copper, silver, steel and platinum - made up the sides of a five-pointed star, its tips just touching the inner ring of steel and copper. Within the pentagon at the center of the star, I thought I saw another smaller circle of runes, though these looked like they¡¯d been painted onto the floor.


    ¡°Wow.¡± It was all I could think of to say.


    Ken smiled. ¡°We¡¯ll do most of your lessons here at first. All of the tools you¡¯ll need are close at hand here, and you won¡¯t have to go to the trouble of creating your own circle until you have a solid grasp of how they work. Also, the room itself can easily be¡­shall we say, hardened against errant spells while you¡¯re learning.¡±


    I looked around slowly, taking it all in and imagining how much time I was going to spend in this incredible, bizarre room.


    ¡°Your mother spent a lot of time here during her own training,¡± Ken said, ¡°for the same reasons. And of course later, when she was doing research or summoning something. Your father spent quite a bit of time here too, especially after your mother died.¡± He sighed softly. ¡°For a while, I could hardly get him to leave this room except to eat. At least he never locked me out.¡±


    ¡°Lock you out?¡± I asked, wiping a few unshed tears from my eyes.


    ¡°Oh yes,¡± Ken said with a nod. ¡°The room itself is a circle, and if you look at the ceiling you¡¯ll see that the whole room is edged with another ring of steel and silver. It can be closed and sealed against outside magic and spiritual entities¡­which is, incidentally, how it is also protected against errant spells. That¡¯ll be one of the first things I teach you how to do.¡±


    ¡°Again,¡± I said, approaching overload already, ¡°wow.¡±


    Ken chuckled softly. ¡°Getting a bit overwhelmed again?¡±


    I glanced at him and smiled sheepishly. ¡°Maybe just a little. It¡¯s an awful lot to take in.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°I can imagine. For now, let¡¯s just have a look around the room. I¡¯ll tell you what some of these things are, and then it¡¯ll be time for dinner! Tomorrow, we can begin to study channeling energy by choosing the materials for your first Focus.¡±


    ¡°Focus?¡± I was starting to feel like I¡¯d be asking questions and expressing awe constantly for the rest of my life. Somehow, it didn¡¯t feel like a bad thing¡­I was beginning to really understand how little wonder I¡¯d felt in my life so far.


    ¡°A Focus,¡± Ken said, ¡°is a general term that describes any tool made by a spellcaster for the purpose of making it easier to channel and direct energy, or to make performing specific types of magic easier. They¡¯re not a requirement for spellcasting, but they do ease the process by providing a tangible tool with a specific intent, specially prepared to channel and focus energy in specific ways. Thus, a Focus. Capital F.¡±


    To my surprise, that made sense to me. ¡°Since magic is based on channeling energy, a Focus makes spellcasting easier by simplifying the mental effort needed to make it happen.¡±


    Ken blinked and nodded. ¡°Exactly, Mistress. I¡¯m surprised you reached that conclusion so quickly.¡±


    I shrugged a little. ¡°It just makes sense. If there¡¯s a mental effort involved in a job, it¡¯s only natural to try to find ways to simplify or eliminate the mental effort.¡± I gave him a lopsided smile. ¡°That¡¯s human nature.¡±


    He chuckled. ¡°Very true, Mistress.¡±


    ¡°So what will I be making first?¡±


    ¡°The first Focus most spellcasters make is a general-purpose tool for gathering and focusing energy,¡± Ken said. ¡°The most common type is a staff of some sort. The staff is a very flexible tool in many ways.¡±


    Amusement and curiosity welled up in me, and I giggled. ¡°Seriously? A real wizard¡¯s staff?¡±


    Ken looked delighted, grinning at me. ¡°Oh yes. You¡¯ll be following in the footsteps of Merlin and Gandalf in no time.¡±


    I grinned back at him. ¡°Now that¡¯s something to look forward to. But I¡¯m not growing a long white beard to go with my hair.¡±


    Ken laughed, and I laughed with him. It felt very good.


    When we¡¯d both settled down a bit - and, I noticed, I felt more at ease after the release of laughter - Ken held up a warning finger. ¡°Mind you, general purpose Foci are sometimes the most difficult to make. So don¡¯t be surprised if it doesn¡¯t work right on the first try, or takes several days, or even weeks, to make it work properly.¡±


    ¡°A computer engineer I know once told me ¡®You can have it done right, fast, or cheap. Pick two.¡¯¡± I said. ¡°I imagine that applies here as well, at least to some extent. And I¡¯m not afraid of hard or time-consuming work.¡±


    Ken smiled warmly. ¡°You¡¯re quite right, Mistress. And I never for a moment though you would be.¡±

 Chapter 9

    We spent the rest of the afternoon in the lab, which I decided I preferred to think of as ¡®the workshop,¡¯ since it made me feel a bit less mad-scientist-ish. However, after a half an hour of me asking what things were and not really being able to follow Ken¡¯s explanations, Ken decided to dial back my education a notch and instead provided me with a huge, leather-bound tome entitled Elementary Magical Theory. It was hand-written, but the print was clear and it was grounded - relatively speaking - in terms that related strongly to real-world physics; specifically, the movement and alteration of energy from one form to another.


    That was something I could follow, even if it made my head ache a little. A bit of rummaging in drawers and cabinets turned up a pile of old-fashioned but unused composition notebooks and several pencils, so I began taking notes as I read. I managed to make it through the first three chapters - respectively entitled So You Want to be a Wizard, Energy Theory for Beginners, and The World is Weirder than Science Knows - before my stomach started to rumble and Ken headed for the kitchen to whip up some dinner for me.


    ¡°I just want to finish this chapter,¡± I said, tapping the huge book that was open on the worktable in front of me, with one of the composition notebooks beside it. ¡°I feel like I¡¯m actually starting to grasp some of the basics.¡±


    Ken smiled. ¡°It¡¯s an excellent magical primer. I¡¯ll go on ahead and get dinner started, you follow when you¡¯re ready.¡±


    I looked up from the book. ¡°Without you?¡±


    He smiled a bit more. ¡°Yes, without me. This is as good a time as any for you to start finding your way around the House without a tour guide. Don¡¯t worry, you can¡¯t get lost.¡± He hesitated. ¡°Well, you can¡¯t get so lost that I wouldn¡¯t be able to find you if you called for me. I¡¯ll hear you from anywhere in the house, just say my name.¡±


    I hesitated, then nodded a little, ignoring the nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. ¡°All right¡­before you go, is there anything in here that I definitely shouldn¡¯t touch? Or, more to the point, use as a bookmark?¡±


    Ken chuckled. ¡°Right now, as a general rule of thumb, I¡¯d say that if you don¡¯t recognize something or can¡¯t figure out what it¡¯s for, leave it alone.¡±


    ¡°Sensible,¡± I agreed.


    He gave me a little wave and left me alone in the workshop.


    (Yes, workshop definitely suited me better.)


    Rather than resume my reading and note taking, I looked around for a moment and wondered - not for the first time since I met Margrave - what I was doing. I had stepped out of the real world, and put a real life on hold, to dive headlong into¡­


    Into what?


    I leaned back in the chair and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to sort out my jumbled thoughts. This was all just so bizarre. It seemed like my life had taken a sharp and completely unexpected turn, jarring me out of real life and into some sort of fantasy novel come to life.


    Magic? A house that was bigger on the inside, which I was supposed to defend against as-yet nebulous threats, with a ghost as a butler?


    Maybe I should¡¯ve named him Alfred.


    That thought made me snort a little laugh, and restored a bit of my equilibrium.


    Then there was the strange feeling of belonging that I¡¯d felt as soon as I walked into the house, which hadn¡¯t faded even a little yet. This was, something inside me said, where I was meant to be, and what I was supposed to be doing. It was like some sort of psychic beacon that the house was broadcasting to me¡­if anything, it had grown stronger since my arrival.


    I felt a brief urge to bolt for the front door, and wondered for a moment if I¡¯d even be able to find my way to it if the house didn¡¯t want me to leave.


    The instant that thought crossed my mind, I felt certain that it would. That if I really l wanted to leave, the house wouldn¡¯t stop me. But it would regret my departure, and would be lost without me.


    I blinked and looked around, quite positive that those thoughts and feelings hadn¡¯t been my own.


    ¡°Are you trying to communicate with me?¡± I asked the room, which was empty of life except for myself.


    And the House. In that moment, it truly took on - to me - the proper noun status I¡¯d heard Margrave and Ken using. But no response came.


    I smiled faintly. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. As bizarre and insane as this all seems to me right now, I have no real intention of leaving. This is all too interesting a puzzle for me to set it aside. Even if it is the last gasp of my brain as I lie dying on the street somewhere after being hit by a car, or something.¡±


    I¡¯d meant that as a joke, but it fell flat, even to my own ears. Yes, there was a little part of me that wondered - feared - that what I¡¯d said might be true. But somehow, this all felt real to me.


    Maybe more real than anything in my life up to that moment.


    Feeling a bit off-kilter and confused, I tore a page out of the composition notebook, folded it in half, and used it to mark my place in Elementary Magical Theory. Then I rose and hesitated.


    Should I call for Ken? Have him come and show me to the kitchen?


    No. I needed to learn my way around the House if I was ever going to really learn anything about it and the strange legacy my parents had left for me.


    I felt a momentary sense of quiet approval, then it was gone, making me wonder how intelligent and aware the House really was.


    The workshop¡¯s door opened onto a hallway that looked like all of the others I¡¯d seen since arriving. I closed the door behind me and looked left and right, trying to decide which way to go. Nothing looked particularly familiar¡­but then I realized that if this was going to work, I wasn¡¯t going to be looking for landmarks. I thought about what Ken had said about sensing which way to go.


    To the right. I nodded a little to myself and started walking in that direction.


    Walking alone through the House, I half expected to feel uneasy. I had always felt that way on my own in new places, until I¡¯d had time to get used to them and get to know them. But here, I felt¡­at home, and at ease. There were no bogeymen here to jump out from around corners, no strangers to pass and smile uncertainly at. There was just me, and the House.


    And some really impressive antiques and pieces of art. I paused to admire, with a history student¡¯s eye, a suit of mixed chain and plate armor that I estimated to be from the late 1500¡¯s¡­it looked authentic, and to judge by the scuffs, dings, and broken chain links, it had seen some pretty rough use. Leaning closer, I saw that the breastplate was edged with more of the runic language I¡¯d seen elsewhere, and out of curiosity I held my left hand out towards the armor, spreading my fingers and concentrating the way Ken had shown me.


    After a moment, I felt a faint stirring of energy against my hand, and got a faded impression of strength and¡­possessiveness? No, protectiveness. It was a much less potent sensation than what I¡¯d felt during my lesson at the door, but still there. Perhaps the enchantments on the armor - and frankly, they had to be so old that I was a bit surprised that I could still sense them - had been added to strengthen and improve the protection provided by the breastplate.


    Fascinating.


    A little further down the hallway I paused again, this time to examine an exquisitely lifelike painting of a green field of tall grass with horses in it. To my astonishment - I actually took a little step back in surprise - the horses began to move after a moment, tossing their heads and grazing on the grass. I watched them idly grazing for a minute before giving myself a little shake and starting off down the hallway again.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    The more I saw of this weird old House, the more I wanted to know about it. There was something here - or, more likely, multiple somethings - that had caught at my imagination and held on tight. Every door I passed, every antique and piece of artwork I glanced at, every turn I took made me want to see more.


    I was only a little bit surprised when, after having gone up and down several flights of stairs to get to the workshop, I found myself walking back into the main foyer without taking a single one to get back. I shook my head a little and walked across the foyer, opening the door that (still, thankfully) led into the kitchen.


    Ken looked up from the stove as I entered and smiled. ¡°You found your way all right, I see.¡±


    I nodded and sniffed the air. ¡°Tomato sauce?¡±


    Ken gave me a hopeful smile. ¡°Do you like Tortellini?¡±


    ¡°What kind?¡±


    ¡°Three cheese, with meat sauce.¡±


    I sat down at the table by the fireplace and smiled. ¡°Sounds delicious.¡±


    We didn¡¯t really talk over dinner; I ate, and Ken cleaned up. He seemed to understand that I had a lot on my mind and wasn¡¯t really in the mood for conversation. Instead, he hovered (pardon the pun) solicitously about, refilling my drink, making sure I had enough to eat, and finally packing up and putting away the leftovers as I sipped a cup of delicious herbal tea afterwards.


    I skipped desert, a bit worried about overeating after the large pasta dinner, and decided that it was time for bed. On the long walk back to my bedroom, I realized that I found the house to feel more inviting now, somehow. Maybe it was just that I¡¯d managed to find my way - or successfully been guided by the House itself - from one location to another without needing a guide.


    Perhaps it also had to do with my earlier revelation that there was much to see and learn about the house itself, beyond whatever secrets - and hidden dangers - my father had left for me to discover. The House was a beautiful thing in and of itself, with its own magic beyond that which enchanted it. It was beautiful and a fascinating mystery, and I realized that I was perhaps beginning to fall in love with the weird old place. Something about it¡­or maybe many things about it¡­had caught at my attention and held on tight.


    By the time we reached my bedroom door, with its painted leaf and purple glass fairy, I felt certain in a way I¡¯d never felt before that this was where I belonged. Not beyond all doubt¡­I had doubts. But I was able to recognize them for what they were: the natural by-product of being in a new environment that I didn¡¯t completely understand or know yet.


    The door to my room had a fresh surprise waiting for me. Expecting to have to unlock it with the Master Key, I took hold of the doorknob and reached out with the key, only to hear the lock make its soft ratchet-and-click sounds as it unlocked by itself. Still holding the doorknob, I looked at Ken and raised an eyebrow.


    He smiled reassuringly. ¡°Take it as another good sign. The House is acknowledging your ownership and the fact that you¡¯ve already opened this room once. As you unlock more doors, the House will start to automatically open them for you and re-lock them behind you. Eventually, every door in the House will open for you automatically, whether you¡¯ve visited it before or not. Unless you - or one of the Key¡¯s previous holders - explicitly made a point of locking a door, in which case it will take an equal act of willful unlocking to open it again.¡±


    I spent a moment sorting that out in my head. ¡°Huh. All right. So¡­just how intelligent and aware is the House?¡±


    Ken gave me a rather whimsical smile. ¡°That¡¯s a really interesting question. I¡¯m honestly not certain. I¡¯d say less than sentient, but more than animal instinct. In my experience, it¡¯s aware of everyone inside of it and everything that happens within it and within its boundaries. I¡¯ve known it to react - as you¡¯ve just seen - accordingly, and it has ways of making its desires known. But, as far as I know, it¡¯s never actually literally communicated with anyone.¡±


    ¡°I¡­see,¡± I said, not really seeing at all. On one level, his explanation made sense to me. But I was still having trouble wrapping my head around the big picture. I was, so to speak, beginning to see the trees, but still unable to make out the forest.


    Ken smiled and, as I was beginning to grow accustomed to, seemed to read my mind. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯ll all make sense eventually. I promise.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    He hesitated, shrugged a little. ¡°As much as this House and its nature can make sense to anyone, at least.¡±


    ¡°Strangely,¡± I said, meaning it, ¡°I find that reassuring.¡±


    I must have sounded more relieved than I¡¯d intended, because his smile grew as I opened the door. Or maybe that wasn¡¯t what was making him smile, since it seemed to me that there was an impish gleam in his eyes.


    It was at that point, triggered by what I saw as we entered the room, that I remembered the ring he¡¯d had me put on earlier, and his comment about it being a surprise for me.


    Just outside the windows on the far side of the room, a hazy sphere of rich purple light was darting from one end of the long windowpane to the other, and back again. It was moving so fast that every few passes it seemed to leave a purple streak in its wake. As the door closed behind me, without any other warning, the¡­whatever it was¡­stopped in mid-pass and smacked up against the window with a soft but distinctly audible *thunk*.


    Beside me, I saw Ken¡¯s smile turn into an almost manic grin, as I blurted out. ¡°What the hell is that?¡±


    Ken laughed. ¡°You should go and open the window.¡±


    I gave him my best doubting look.


    ¡°It¡¯s perfectly safe,¡± he assured me. ¡°I promise. This is the surprise.¡±


    I continued to stare at him for a long moment, then warily moved towards the window. As I got closer, I could see that the sphere of purple light was about the size of a softball, and that there was a tiny figure at the center of it.


    By the time I settled to my knees on the window seat, I could see that the figure was female and exquisitely beautiful. She had short hair that was the same color as the sphere of light surrounding her - or, rather, seemed to be emanating from her, as her skin actually seemed to glow with a faint sheen of purple radiance - and the delicate points of her ears poked through her short hair. The air behind her shoulders seemed to blur with the beat of what I assumed were wings, moving too quickly for my eyes to really see. She wore a tunic of what appeared to be silk, in a darker shade of purple than her hair, with short sleeves and a scooped neck, its hem falling to mid-thigh on her.


    As her bare feet touched down on the windowsill outside, the sphere of light faded out and the blur of motion behind her resolved into a quartet of perfectly formed dragonfly-like wings. They were translucent, and seemed to ripple with shades of purple as she gave them one last flip and folded them down her back, their tips just touching the backs of her knees.


    She flattened herself against the glass and peered back at me, cupping her hands around her eyes to cut down on the glare. After a moment, her face began to glow (metaphorically, not literally) with a radiant smile. Then she rapped tiny knuckles on the window, making the glass rattle gently.


    I glanced at Ken, who nodded and gestured encouragingly towards the window. So, after another moment¡¯s hesitation, and unable to see how this beautiful little creature could possibly harm me (to be honest, that she might want to never even crossed my mind), I opened the window.


    The fairy - at least, that¡¯s what I was assuming she must be - flung herself through the open window and collided with my chest hard enough to make me sway backwards for a moment. By the time I regained my balance and shed a bit of my shock, she was clinging to my blouse and sobbing happily, babbling away so fast that it took my brain a moment to disentangle and make sense of her words.


    ¡°Oh, Mistress Chessie, I¡¯m so glad you¡¯re finally home! Master James said you¡¯d never be coming back, but I knew you wouldn¡¯t leave me behind, and I knew you¡¯d be back before too long! I felt it as soon as you put my ring on, and now you¡¯re here, and I¡¯m never ever ever leaving your side again!¡±


    I gave Ken a completely bewildered look. He just stood there, smiling an amused - and slightly sad - little smile as she continued on in that vein unabated. She never even seemed to stop to take a breath.


    Then it finally clicked. She¡¯d said ¡®as soon as you put my ring on.¡¯


    ¡°Sparkle?¡± I asked curiously.


    She looked up at me, her stream of consciousness dialog cutting off instantly. ¡°Yes, Mistress?¡±


    Then she frowned - which was absolutely adorable - and took a longer, better look at me. In an instant, she released my blouse and was hovering in front of my face, her glow returned and her wings buzzing faintly. ¡°You¡¯re not Mistress Chessie!¡± she accused, darting back and forth and looking at me from different angles. Then her eyes widened and she gasped, pointing at me. ¡°You¡¯re Mistress Caitlyn, aren¡¯t you!¡±


    I nodded. I wasn¡¯t sure how I felt about being called ¡®mistress¡¯ by this pretty little creature, but now didn¡¯t feel like the time to question that point.


    Her eyes had grown almost comically wide. ¡°But¡­but¡­you¡¯re a baby!¡±


    Ken drifted up beside me and murmured in my ear, ¡°Fairies¡­especially pixies¡­have a very weak grasp of time. They have a tendency to lose track of it completely when they¡¯re not around mortals.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± I said, mentally setting the implications of that aside for later consideration. Tentatively, I held out my hand palm up, and after a moment¡¯s hesitation Sparkle alighted there, so lightly that I barely felt her land. ¡°Sparkle,¡± I said gently, ¡°it¡¯s been more than twenty years since the last time you saw me.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± She gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. ¡°So¡­Mistress Chessie¡¯s really gone¡­¡±


    I nodded a little. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    She stared at me in silence, her eyes full of tears. She seemed to experience emotions profoundly and rapidly, blowing through them with full intensity but dramatically reduced duration. She glanced down at the ring on my hand before meeting my eyes and swiping the tears from her own, suddenly beaming again. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. You¡¯re here, and Mistress Chessie obviously left my ring for you, which means I¡¯m yours now!¡± She nodded firmly to punctuate this declaration.


    I sternly addressed my inner confusion, reminding it of my resolution to stop making bewildered noises. The House and my new situation did seem to have a way of throwing wild curves in my path.


    Sparkle straightened and bobbed an adorable but completely serious curtsy before beaming up at me. ¡°Mistress Caitlyn, I¡¯m yours to command! I¡¯ll never ever leave your side!¡±

 Chapter 10

    I silently appealed to Ken for help with a look that must have been a bit desperate, because he laughed softly and shook his head. I sighed and looked back at Sparkle. ¡°You¡¯ll have to explain to me what that means, exactly. I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m still trying to acclimate.¡±


    Sparkle looked at Ken. ¡°Hello, spirit! What does she mean?¡±


    At least I wasn¡¯t the only one turning to him to find clarity. That made me feel a little bit better.


    Ken bent a little to be closer to Sparkle¡¯s level, his expression sad. ¡°Mistress Caley has been away from the House all this time, Sparkle. She only just arrived a couple of days ago, and knows very little about the world beyond what mortals see.¡±


    Her eyes widened. ¡°Ohhh!¡± She smiled up at me. ¡°Then I can help teach you! Mistress Chessie promised I¡¯d get to teach you things while you were growing up. I didn¡¯t understand what she meant until now.¡±


    Ken hid a coughing laugh behind his hand, and I thought about what he¡¯d said about Fairies not having a strong grasp of time. He wasn¡¯t kidding. But at the same time, I couldn¡¯t find it in my heart to either correct her or try to explain it to her. Her hopeful, beaming smile and eager energy was just too earnest. ¡°I¡­I¡¯d appreciate that, Sparkle.¡±


    She actually, literally started to glow where she stood on my palm, her smile radiant as she clapped her hands and bounced on her toes. ¡°Yay!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t entirely know what you¡¯re going to do for me, but¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m your companion!¡± Sparkle exclaimed excitedly, buzzing in a tight circle above the palm of my hand before landing on her toes again. ¡°I¡¯ll go everywhere with you, keep you company, and watch your back, just like I did for Mistress Chessie!¡±


    ¡°Won¡¯t people notice you?¡± I asked curiously.


    ¡°Nope!¡± She beamed at me. ¡°I see you¡¯re wearing Mistress Chessie¡¯s collar and the Master Key. I can ride on the Key, just like I did for her!¡±


    Before I could ask what she meant, she bounced off my hand and did a little pirouette in mid-air, shedding honest-to-goodness pixie dust. I swear, tiny glowing purple and white motes that drifted down from her wings as she spun. And, as I watched, she shrank down until she appeared to be smaller than the Master Key, before darting straight at me again. I felt the tiny impact as she reached her destination, and when I drew the Key out on its chain, I saw that there was now a tiny silver fairy entwined with the body of the Key.


    She really did look like she belonged there; silent, unmoving as a statue, and as exquisitely detailed as the Key itself. I couldn¡¯t even tell if she was breathing.


    Heck, I wasn¡¯t sure she needed to breathe, for that matter. I had a lot to learn.


    Then, as quickly as she had become a part of it, she peeled away from the Master Key and resumed her original size and natural coloring as she alighted on my palm again. I was impressed, and it must have shown on my face, because she beamed up at me proudly.


    ¡°See?¡± She asked with undisguised glee, practically vibrating with her excitement. ¡°I can go everywhere with you!¡±


    ¡°I see. That¡¯s very impressive.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± she replied expansively, ¡°that¡¯s nothing! I can get big too! Like, human teenager big! But it¡¯s a lot harder. I¡¯d do it for you, though!¡± She added that last quickly, as if trying to give me the impression that there was nothing at all she wouldn¡¯t do for me. I was beginning to suspect that was, in fact, the case.


    With that revelation, and her comment about being able to grow as large as a human teenager, came a sudden and shockingly clear vision of what my childhood might have been like if my mother hadn¡¯t died, or if my father hadn¡¯t sent me away. I would have grown up thinking all of this was perfectly normal, with this charming, beautiful creature as a playmate.


    Would she have grown with me? Become a friend, or even a sister of sorts?


    I could see it as clearly as if I were living it, the two of us as teenagers, sitting on the window seat in my bedroom and giggling about something behind our hands.


    The feeling of loss that accompanied the vision was almost crushing in its intensity. It had been a very long time since I¡¯d come to terms with being an orphan, and growing up without a family¡­or, at least, since I thought I had. I guess that isn¡¯t something you ever put behind you completely. Now it came crashing back down on me in its full intensity for the first time in several years.


    ¡°Mistress?¡± Ken¡¯s voice broke through to me, obviously concerned, followed by Sparkle¡¯s equally - startlingly - worried echo of ¡°Mistress?¡± a moment later.


    My vision of what might have been faded, and I realized that I was clutching one of the bedposts for balance. I was a bit light-headed, and my cheeks were wet with my tears.


    I blinked my eyes a few time to clear them and wiped at my cheeks as I said, ¡°I¡¯m okay¡­¡±


    I was shocked by how shaky my voice sounded.


    ¡°I think you should sit down,¡± Ken said, gently but firmly, as Sparkle zipped back and forth in front of me, almost wild in her concern. Ken¡¯s ephemeral hands gently guided me to sit on the edge of my bed as he asked, ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± I trailed off. How was I going to explain it? How could I explain it? Did either of them even have a frame of reference with which to begin to understand? Heck, I wasn¡¯t sure I did.


    As always, as I was rapidly growing to rely on, Ken instinctively seemed to understand. ¡°Mistress, may I have your permission to look?¡±


    ¡°To¡­look?¡± I asked blankly, not understanding.


    ¡°With your permission,¡± he explained, ¡°I can look into your mind and see your memories. I was going to explain this to you later, as it will aid in speeding up your training. In this instance, however, it will allow me to see what happened without you needing to try to explain it.¡±


    ¡°Is that a normal ability for a ghost?¡± I asked.


    He smiled gently. ¡°No, Mistress. But then, I¡¯m hardly a normal ghost. In this instance, it¡¯s something your father arranged before he died.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± I considered it for a long moment, going over his wording carefully, then nodded slightly. ¡°All right,¡± I said, ¡°you have my permission.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Mistress. You might feel a little tingle.¡±


    He leaned forward and touched his fingertips to my temples. For a moment, all I felt was his usual cool, faintly tingly touch, and wondered when - and how quickly - such an oddity had become ¡®usual¡¯ to me. Then a faint, almost electric sensation emerged as the tingle spread into my head a little.


    It wasn¡¯t an unpleasant feeling; quite the contrary, really. There was something rather pleasant and calming about it. I felt my shoulders, which I hadn¡¯t realized were hunched with tension, begin to slowly relax.


    Ken made a soft, thoughtful sound. ¡°Mistress, if you¡¯ll forgive me for suggesting it, I believe you may have some abandonment issues, and a feeling of resentment towards your parents. Your father especially.¡±


    I looked up at him and, in a tone that fairly dripped sarcasm, said, ¡°You are a beacon of insightful wisdom, oh spirit.¡±


    Sparkle giggled.


    Ken smiled. ¡°Okay, I had that coming. I suppose it¡¯s not a surprise to you, then. What you experienced was your mind¡¯s way of trying to vent some of those feelings, like a steam release valve. I imagine they¡¯ve been building up rather intensely since you learned about your father¡¯s death, and perhaps especially since you arrived here. After this, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if you had some rather intense dreams, or even nightmares, tonight.


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    I sighed a little. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be the first time.¡±


    ¡°No, I suppose not,¡± Ken said with obvious regret. ¡°Still, if you¡¯ll allow it, I may be able to do something to alleviate or even prevent them.¡± His fingers glided down to caress my cheeks gently, his expression concerned. ¡°You¡¯ll need to be well rested when you start your lessons, after all.¡±


    It took me a moment to realize that he was teasing me gently. It wasn¡¯t something I was used to. I gave him a rather shy smile as I replied, ¡°I suppose it¡¯s worth a try. Only a fool would say no to attempting to prevent nightmares.¡±


    Sparkle fluttered over and came to rest on my right shoulder, such a slight weight that I could only really tell she was there because that¡¯s where her voice came from. And, I realized after a moment, a gentle pressure¡­not a physical pressure, but a warm ¡®there¡¯-ness that hadn¡¯t been there a moment earlier, like I was sensing that glowing purple aura of hers.


    Which I probably was.


    ¡°She¡¯s all right, then?¡± Sparkle asked.


    Ken smiled and nodded as he straightened. ¡°Yes, Sparkle, she¡¯s fine. Just a bit overwhelmed, which isn¡¯t particularly surprising.¡±


    The little fairy blew out a relieved breath and plopped down on my shoulder. I actually felt her sit down, and could feel her little feet bumping irregularly against my shoulder very lightly. She was probably kicking her feet a bit. ¡°Good! Then we can help her not be overwhelmed!¡±


    I smiled, absolutely charmed. ¡°Thank you, Sparkle. I¡¯d appreciate that to no end.¡±


    Sparkle made what could only be described as an inordinately pleased sound, and the purple glow emitting from the area of my right shoulder brightened just noticeably. I could almost hear her thinking, ¡°Yay, I¡¯m helping!¡±


    ¡°So,¡± I said to Ken, ¡°will you explain how it is that you¡¯re able to¡­to read my thoughts and memories, and apparently help protect me from having nightmares?¡±


    For the first time since we met, a look of reluctance settled on Ken¡¯s face. ¡°I can, Mistress, but - if you¡¯ll forgive my saying so - I don¡¯t think you¡¯re ready just yet to hear the explanation or understand it.¡±


    ¡°You could order him to tell you,¡± Sparkle offered helpfully. ¡°He wouldn¡¯t be able to refuse.¡±


    That gave me pause. I knew that Ken was a servant¡­my servant, specifically, though that was still sinking in. I was so completely unused to anybody doing anything for me that I guess I was still having trouble accepting the idea of having a servant.


    But until that moment, it hadn¡¯t occurred to me to wonder just how much control I actually had over him. I looked at him curiously. ¡°Is that true?¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°Quite true, Mistress. I am bound to you as much as to the House, and must respond truthfully to any directly asked question. Likewise, I must obey any order given directly by you. I can, of course,¡± his lips curved into an impish smile, ¡°first suggest that it might not be the best course of action and give you time to rescind any such question or order. But yes, given a direct question or order from you, I must follow through with it to the best of my knowledge and ability.¡±


    Shock rippled through me and my mouth dropped open a bit. Not only because I¡¯d just now discovered something of the depth and breadth of control I had over Ken, but because I could not find even the faintest trace of resentment in his voice or expression.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t that bother you?¡± I asked, both stunned and incredulous.


    ¡°Should it?¡± Ken asked. ¡°I have no reason to believe you would randomly give me senseless orders. Nor have I seen any evidence to suggest that you would fail to heed my advice when given if I felt an order - or a question - was in some way inappropriate or might have an undesirable outcome. In this case, I believe that you are not prepared - either psychologically or intellectually - to understand what I allowed to be done to me. I assure you, it was entirely voluntary, and that it won¡¯t be long before you have the framework in which to understand it.¡±


    I sat back a little, propping myself up on my hands and tipping my head a bit as I examined Ken more closely. Had he gained more definition? Yes¡­I thought I could see traces of smile-lines at the corners of his eyes now, and a hint of color - green, maybe? - was starting to show in his shirt.


    ¡°I¡­suppose I hadn¡¯t thought about it that way,¡± I said slowly. ¡°But I know I¡¯d be bothered if someone had that much control over me.¡±


    Sparkle giggled near my right ear. ¡°You¡¯re a mortal. Of course it would bother you. Your free will is what defines you. But in the spirit¡¯s case - and mine! - being defined by your will is our nature. It¡¯s what we are.¡± She bounced off my shoulder and hovered in front of me at eye level, beaming happily, wings buzzing softly. ¡°We are yours.¡±


    Ken nodded his agreement. ¡°Precisely so.¡±


    ¡°Why my will?¡± I asked, struggling to understand.


    ¡°Well, in my case,¡± Ken said, ¡°it¡¯s because a long time ago I bound myself to serve the House and your family.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m of the Fairy Folk,¡± Sparkle said, zipping in a little circle, ¡°who are the lesser children of the Sidhe.¡± She pronounced it ¡®she¡¯, and it took me a moment to realize she was speaking about the creatures from Celtic mythology.


    ¡°We¡¯re from the Spirit World,¡± Sparkle continued, ¡°and are thus both more and less malleable than mortals, and are defined by the Purpose given to us by our leaders rather than by anything silly like free will. Since Mistress Chessie claimed me, she defined my Purpose, which was to serve whoever wore my ring. Which is now you!¡± She bounced in place in mid-air, as if standing on her toes on a solid surface, though I had no idea how she accomplished the feat. ¡°Your will is my will, Mistress!¡±


    I looked at Sparkle. ¡°Does that mean if someone took your ring from me, they¡¯d¡­own you?¡±


    She nodded seriously. ¡°Oh yes, Mistress. But you needn¡¯t fear that. Mistress Chessie enchanted my ring so that nobody but her or Master James could ever take it off her hand.¡±


    ¡°As her daughter,¡± Ken interjected, ¡°that enchantment will also be effective for you.¡±


    ¡°So nobody could ever steal me from you,¡± Sparkle said with unshakable certainty. ¡°Never ever ever.¡±


    I opened my mouth, closed it again, then sighed and said, ¡°I¡­don¡¯t really understand.¡±


    Sparkle giggled.


    Ken smiled gently. ¡°You will in time, I promise. I think that¡¯s enough revelations for today, don¡¯t you?¡±


    I nodded firmly. ¡°Definitely. I need to sleep on this.¡±


    ¡°An excellent idea, Mistress,¡± Ken agreed. ¡°Why don¡¯t you get ready for bed, while I do my evening check of the House.¡±


    ¡°Which reminds me,¡± I said, sitting up and bending to untie my sneakers. ¡°Do I need to worry about drawing the blinds?¡±


    To my surprise, it was Sparkle who answered, zipping over to zoom back and forth in front of the window. ¡°Oh no, Mistress. You can see out, but nothing can see in. In fact, unless someone outside is expressly told that the windows are there, they won¡¯t even be able to see them.¡±


    I paused to digest that for a moment, one sneaker dangling from my fingers. I shrugged mentally, chalked it up to magic, and moved on, adding it to the growing list of things I¡¯d likely understand later. ¡°Thank you, Sparkle.¡± I took off my other sneaker and rose, unbuttoning my blouse as I walked to the closet.


    Ken, evidently content that I was in good hands with Sparkle, departed on his mystery rounds. Yet another item on the ever-growing ¡®find out more¡¯ list.


    I had dropped my blouse in the laundry hamper just inside the closet door and was starting to unzip my jeans when I realized that Sparkle was perched on the dresser, watching me. I lifted an eyebrow.


    She beamed. ¡°You¡¯re very pretty.¡±


    That was, I suspected, a complete explanation for her behavior. There didn¡¯t seem to be anything even remotely lascivious in her steady gaze¡­she was just innocently admiring and appreciative. I sighed a little, shrugged mentally again, and resumed undressing.


    When I went to retrieve my usual boxers and t-shirt night clothes, I found that the House had once again been at work enhancing my wardrobe. The few pairs I¡¯d brought with me had been replaced by matching sets of similar garments in silk, in a variety of colors. I shook my head, decided I¡¯d pegged the needle on my Weird-O-Meter for the day, and just chose a set in forest green.


    They were, I had to admit, both more comfortable and quite a bit more luxurious than what I was used to.


    I climbed into bed and burrowed into the quilt. ¡°Sparkle, could you get the lights?¡±


    ¡°Of course, Mistress!¡± She zipped off the dresser, where she¡¯d been sitting on the edge and kicking her feet, and zoomed over to the light switch by the door. She made a big show of it being a huge effort for her to move it - or maybe it was, I wasn¡¯t really sure - before the lights clicked off.


    That left me in the dark, with the only real light in the room cast by the low, flickering flames in the fireplace, and the little globe of soft purple light that was Sparkle by the door.


    I¡¯d been so tired the night before that I¡¯d simply collapsed into sleep. But tonight, with my head spinning from all of the day¡¯s revelations, there was a faintly sinister aspect to the shadows cast by the firelight. Glancing left and right, the carved figures of the fairies in my bed¡¯s headboard seemed to shift and move strangely.


    Then Sparkle shot from the doorway towards my bed, leaving a rapidly fading streak of purple glow in her wake. To my astonishment, she veered upwards and slipped into the spherical bird cage hanging from the center of my bed¡¯s canopy. There she made herself comfortable in the little shallow basket suspended in the middle of the cage, which until that moment my mind had evidently refused to acknowledge.


    Once she¡¯d settled down, she took a deep breath and let it out¡­and her glow expanded without actually growing brighter, until the whole room was suffused with a pleasantly faint, strangely soothing, gentle glow. She didn¡¯t actually light up the room or even provide enough illumination to see clearly by, but her radiance didn¡¯t cast any shadows. In fact, it seemed to drive the shadows back, reducing their flickering and shifting and making them quite mundane again.


    Sparkle was the perfect night-light. I wondered if that was something she¡¯d learned to do for my mother.


    I felt myself calming and relaxing beneath her glow and smiled. ¡°Thank you, Sparkle.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, Mistress.¡± She sounded happy and sleepy.


    She was serving her Purpose - capital P intended - and had been praised for doing so, I realized. Of course she was happy. My brain then associated that thought with a memory from my childhood¡­successfully learning the Alphabet, Sister Sarah¡¯s appreciatively praise, and the warm, happy sense of accomplishment I¡¯d had.


    Having achieved what I thought was a profound insight into the way Sparkle¡¯s mind worked, I fluffed my pillow and settled in to wait for Ken to return and do whatever he needed to do to keep my dreams peaceful after the tumultuous day.

 Chapter 11

    I was in danger of drifting off to sleep - Sparkle¡¯s gentle light was just that relaxing in the warm darkness of my bedroom - when Ken finally returned, the door opening silently and clicking shut quietly behind him. He paused and smiled, glowing faintly in the dim light. ¡°I see Sparkle has made herself right at home again.¡±


    I sat up a little and yawned behind my hand. ¡°I¡¯ve never had such a perfect night-light before.¡±


    Above me, I heard Sparkle make a soft sound that was clearly joy. Did my simple expression of pleasure have that big of an impact on her? I filed the thought away for later consideration as Ken approached.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t fall asleep on me, did you?¡± Ken asked as he settled on the edge of the bed.


    I felt the bed shift ever so slightly, and saw the comforter indent just a little. That was interesting. Obviously, he had some sort of mass, but not much. Something else to file away for later consideration.


    ¡°No,¡± I said, sitting up a bit more and smiling. ¡°It was a near thing, though.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± he returned my smile, ¡°you had a busy day. Maybe we should put this off until tomorrow night¡­¡±


    I frowned a little. ¡°Put what off?¡±


    ¡°I was going,¡± Ken said, ¡°to start your training tonight. But after the day you had, I¡¯m not sure it¡¯s entirely wise.¡±


    I blinked slowly. ¡°I think I¡¯m too tired to do anything else today, and I¡¯m already in bed¡­¡± I pointedly grabbed and fluffed one of the pillows before putting it back behind me and lying down again.


    He smiled. ¡°What I was going to do is similar to what I did earlier, in viewing your memories. Just in reverse.¡±


    I lifted my head and stared at him. Maybe I was just too tired, but I couldn¡¯t make heads or tails out of that. ¡°All right,¡± I said after a moment, ¡°run that one by me again.¡±


    ¡°Your father,¡± Ken said, ¡°took advantage of one of my natural abilities as Guardian of the House - which I demonstrated earlier - and modified it. Mind you, this modification will only work on one person; namely, you.¡±


    I laid my head back down and frowned. ¡°All right. That still doesn¡¯t really tell me anything.¡±


    Ken huffed out a little laugh. ¡°No, I suppose it doesn¡¯t. I¡¯m being rather vague. Basically, your father used a form of blood magic -¡±


    ¡°Blood magic?¡±


    Above us, Sparkle giggled. ¡°You¡¯re doing it all wrong.¡±


    Ken sighed. ¡°Perhaps. We¡¯ll get to that later. Suffice it for now to say that it¡¯s an esoteric form of ritual magic. Okay?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Sure.¡±


    ¡°Good. What it allows me to do,¡± he said, ¡°is to use my ability as Guardian to see into your mind. But instead of just looking, I can¡­use your dreams to give you information.¡± He hesitated again, then added, ¡°That was the first time I ever said it out loud, and it sounds kind of creepy to me now.¡±


    ¡°Just a little,¡± I said. ¡°But honestly, it also sounds very useful.¡± I propped myself up on my elbows to look at him. ¡°Try it again, but with details.¡±


    ¡°All right.¡± One corner of his lips quirked up into a smile. ¡°Let¡¯s try it this way: It¡¯s an ability that will enable me to teach you things while you¡¯re sleeping, by engaging your subconscious, which is capable of processing information at considerably greater rates of speed. You won¡¯t consciously remember it happening - though we could probably work out a dream construct in which to frame the lessons, if you really wanted - and it won¡¯t feel like anything to you. You¡¯ll simply wake up in the morning, having learned something completely new while you were asleep.


    ¡°Actually,¡± he added, ¡°I don¡¯t think it would work if you didn''t already have a highly organized memory. Or at least, it wouldn¡¯t work as well. Your father was very clever about taking advantage of that talent while modifying me.¡±


    I tipped my head a little. ¡°Does it bother you?¡±


    He blinked. ¡°Does what bother me?¡±


    ¡°Being¡­modified.¡±


    He smiled. ¡°No, Mistress. It allows me to better serve my purpose, therefore it is a good thing.¡±


    I digested that for a moment, decided it was yet another item to be filed away for later consideration, and got back on topic. ¡°So, the purpose of this¡­modification¡­is to give us more time in which for me to study magic, and to accelerate my studies, correct?¡±


    ¡°Correct,¡± Ken nodded. ¡°Because of the way your subconscious mind works, and the way dreams work, we will be able to educate you literally at the speed of thought¡­which in this case is, as I said, vastly accelerated. We¡¯ll be able to cram a five-hour lesson into a single ¡®dream¡¯ period lasting less than a half-hour, and do that several times a night.¡±


    I could almost feel the lightbulb go on over my head. ¡°So you pour magical theory into my head while I¡¯m sleeping, which frees us up to do practical application while I¡¯m awake.¡±


    Ken beamed. ¡°Precisely, Mistress.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s so cool,¡± Sparkle said from above us. I looked up to see her peering down at us. She sighed rather wistfully. ¡°I bet Mistress Chessie would¡¯ve loved that.¡±


    Ken laughed softly. ¡°Yes, she definitely would have. Your mother,¡± he added to me, ¡°always had trouble concentrating during her theory lessons.¡± He smiled fondly at some memory. ¡°It was very difficult to get her to sit still long enough.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± I said, ¡°in that, at least, we¡¯re not alike. I¡¯ve always enjoyed theory.¡± I laid back again, getting comfortable and pulling the comforter up to my chin. ¡°But I can certainly see and appreciate the practicality of using all the time I¡¯m asleep. I like the sound of creating a¡­a dream classroom as a framework for the new information, rather than having it just be there. That sounds less disorienting to me. How do we do this?¡±


    ¡°I wait for you to fall asleep,¡± Ken said, ¡°then get started.¡±


    I yawned and nodded. ¡°Okay.¡± I curled up on my side and pulled the comforter up a bit more. ¡°Goodnight, Ken. Goodnight, Sparkle.¡±


    I heard Sparkle yawn softly and then murmur a contented-sounding, ¡°Sleep well, Mistress.¡±


    Waking up the next morning didn¡¯t really feel any different than usual. I blinked sleepily at the sunlight pouring in through the huge bay windows, listened to the muted chirping of unfamiliar birds, and looked up to see Sparkle stretching and yawning in her little bird cage. I felt rested and relaxed as I sat up and stretched too.


    Except that I could distinctly remember spending hours sitting in a classroom - one with only two desks, mine and the teacher¡¯s - having the theory of evocation magic explained to me at length and in great detail by Ken.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    I blinked a few times. I had an intellectual understanding of evocation magic now, one that I thought I might be able to put into practice, with a bit of guidance.


    I had to agree with Sparkle¡­it really was very cool. And definitely a time-saver. Better yet, it didn¡¯t even feel like cheating. Not really.


    With another stretch, I got out of bed and decided to try out the huge claw-footed tub instead of taking a shower. Sparkle fluttered into the bathroom after me, still yawning cutely. ¡°Whatcha doin¡¯?¡±


    ¡°I usually take a shower in the morning,¡± I said, shedding my nightclothes, ¡°but today I feel like trying out that bathtub.¡±


    Sparkle giggled and fluttered around my head as I started the taps. ¡°I don¡¯t need to bathe,¡± she said. ¡°I use magic to keep myself clean.¡± She landed on the rim of the tub. ¡°But bathing is a lot of fun, so I¡¯ll join you!¡±


    I gave her a thoughtful look, but since the tub was more than large enough for us both (and probably two other human-sized people), I decided not to comment. She did more splashing around and swimming than actual bathing - her size relative to the tub made it like watching someone swimming in a large pond - but her presence was pleasantly entertaining.


    As had happened yesterday, my nightclothes had been replaced with a silk robe while I was bathing. As I dried off, I said, ¡°Sparkle, do you know who¡¯s doing that?¡±


    Sparkle, still dripping wet on the lip of the tub, blinked up at me. ¡°Doing what?¡±


    ¡°Silently swapping in a robe for my nightclothes.¡±


    She beamed. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s just the House.¡± She gave herself a shake, then more of a shake, and when she stopped she was completely dry. Her hair had fluffed out in a short halo around her head, which made me giggle. She grinned up at me, then did something that - with a soft but audible crackle, like static electricity - made her hair settle into its normal style.


    Just the House. Okay, then.


    Ken was waiting as we exited the bathroom. ¡°Good morning, Mistress. You slept very well¡­would you like me to bring you breakfast here, again?¡±


    I thought about it for a moment, then shook my head. ¡°No¡­I think I¡¯d like to have breakfast in the kitchen today. Would you please take care of my hair again?¡±


    He beamed. ¡°It would be my pleasure, Mistress.¡±


    Ken dried and plaited my hair so quickly, gently and efficiently that I was almost unaware of him doing it until he let the long braid fall against my back. ¡°There, ready for another day of exploration.¡±


    I smiled. ¡°Almost. Now turn around so I can get dressed.¡±


    Sparkle giggled, but Ken did as I asked with a small, genteel bow. ¡°Of course, Mistress.¡±


    Out of the selection of clothing in my closet - which had once again, no doubt thanks to the house, expanded overnight - I selected jeans, a short-sleeved forest-green blouse, a pair of green trainers that I had definitely never bought but which were my size, and appropriate undergarments. I dressed quickly and bounced on my toes, testing the trainers. They felt broken-in, as if I¡¯d been wearing them for ages.


    That was¡­simultaneously impressive and a little disturbing. I appreciated what the house was doing - trying to do? - by providing me with luxuries, but I wasn¡¯t entirely comfortable with it. Both with the luxuries themselves, and with the idea that I was inside something that might be¡­sentient was the wrong word. Aware?


    ¡°Ken,¡± I said quietly.


    He turned to face me with a smile. ¡°Yes, Mistress?¡±


    ¡°Just how aware is the House? You sort of dodged the question the last time I asked.¡±


    Ken pursed his lips and looked pensive. ¡°I wasn¡¯t actually dodging the question, Mistress. I¡¯m honestly not sure.¡± He folded his arms. ¡°It has, as far back as I can remember, always demonstrated a certain sensitivity to and awareness of the people living within it, especially the Guardian. But it is an¡­¡± He frowned a little. ¡°An¡­an atavistic sort of awareness, for lack of a better term. I don¡¯t think it is intelligent, per se, and so does not understand intelligence. Instead, it seems to respond to emotion, needs, desires.¡±


    ¡°So it¡¯s filling up my closet because¡­?¡± I trailed off questioningly.


    Ken smiled a little. ¡°Perhaps because you were embarrassed by how little you had,¡± he said gently. ¡°Yes, I noticed, and no, I didn¡¯t say anything. It wasn¡¯t my place, and I had already embarrassed you with the question.¡±


    I waved it off. ¡°It hardly matters anymore, does it. Not when I wake up every morning to find my closet increasingly filled with precisely the sort of clothes I like to wear. Not to mention shoes that fit me perfectly and feel as though I¡¯ve broken them in already.¡± I broke off, realizing that my voice had been rising.


    I made a quick assessment of my mental state - agitated, a little frightened.


    Agitated made sense¡­I was out of my depth, and was still adjusting to a new and utterly bizarre situation. But what was I frightened of?


    Refer to said bizarre situation. Frightened made some sense, at least.


    I took a deep breath and let it out. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    Ken smiled lopsidedly. ¡°That¡¯s quite all right, Mistress. I expected you to have a bit of a¡­what your mother would¡¯ve called a ¡®freak out¡¯ before now. You have a tremendous amount of self-control.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I took another deep breath and let it out. ¡°All right. Breakfast. I¡¯ll feel better with some food in my stomach.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want me to bring it here?¡± Ken asked.


    I shook my head. ¡°No. I can¡¯t hide in this room, not if I¡¯m going to really learn about this place.¡±


    Sparkle landed on my shoulder. ¡°I agree!¡± She said firmly. ¡°Mistress Caley needs to adjust to the House, and the House needs to adjust to her.¡±


    Ken gave Sparkle an odd look. ¡°As you say, Sparkle. Well, then¡­shall we go to the kitchen?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Excellent.¡± Ken smiled and opened the door. ¡°Lead the way.¡±


    ¡°Me?¡± I asked, startled.


    ¡°Oh yes,¡± he said. ¡°Consider this another step in taking proper ownership of the House. Finding your way.¡±


    I stepped out of my bedroom and looked around. Hallway, carpet, sconces with decorations, lamps, doors. Lots of doors. ¡°How do I know which way?¡±


    ¡°Concentrate on the room you want to go to,¡± Sparkle said in my ear, ¡°and let the House guide you.¡±


    ¡°Vague,¡± I said teasingly. But even as I said it, I thought of the huge kitchen I¡¯d seen on my first day. After a moment I felt a very faint sense of pressure and warmth on my left arm, so I turned in that direction. The faint feeling of pressure and warmth shifted to the front of my body. I turned straight around, and felt it on my back. I turned around again, and the feeling returned to the front of my body.


    ¡°All right,¡± I said. ¡°Hot and cold it is.¡±


    I followed the sensation down four flights of stairs (in a three story building, which made my head ache a little), around three corners, and through what felt like hundreds of meters of hallway. Finally, after walking a distance that could not possibly have fit within the house¡¯s exterior, I saw the doors into the foyer up ahead, and opened them onto the huge oval room almost gratefully. ¡°Whew.¡±


    Ken laughed softly and Sparkle giggled as we hung a right and went into the kitchen.


    ¡°So,¡± I said, as the kitchen - no matter how large it was - restored something of my sense of grounded normality, ¡°shall I do my own cooking, or is there some sort of invisible staff?¡±


    The question made Ken grin, and Sparkle - now sitting on my left shoulder - giggled again.


    ¡°That,¡± Ken said, ¡°is a very interesting question. But not one we need to address right now. The short answer is yes, you may do your own cooking, or I can cook something for you. You may, however, find it easier just to ask the refrigerator for whatever you want for breakfast.¡±


    I stared at him for a long moment, trying to decide if he was pulling my leg or not. ¡°Run that one by me again?¡±


    Ken smiled. ¡°Just try it. Go up to the refrigerator and tell it what you want.¡±


    I continued staring at him for a moment, then sighed and shrugged. It was up to me to adjust to all of this world-altering weirdness. So I walked over to the refrigerator.


    Up close, I could see that the glossy black door was some sort of brushed metal. It had a decorative-industrial sort of look to it, and was about the size of most of the other doors in the house. It looked rather like the door of a large walk-in freezer, or something similar.


    Sparkle nudged my ear. ¡°Go on, it won¡¯t bite.¡±


    I briefly considered asking for a Continental breakfast, or something really decadent like an old-fashioned English fry-up. But in the end the healthy body/healthy mind attitude the Sisters had drilled into me as a child won out.


    Feeling vaguely ridiculous, I addressed the refrigerator door. ¡°Shredded wheat, toast and bacon, English Breakfast tea and an orange.¡± Then, as an afterthought, I quickly added a polite ¡°Please.¡±


    Sparkle chimed in with, ¡°Hot chocolate chip cookie!¡±


    That made me smile. I suppose fairies don¡¯t need to eat healthy food. Maybe she didn¡¯t really even need to eat at all, or just needed the complex sugars. I made yet another mental note, this one to look into my new little friend¡¯s biology.


    Then I waited.


    After a moment, Sparkle nudged my ear again. ¡°Open the door, silly.¡±


    So I did. The inside of the refrigerator was pretty much what I¡¯d expected. Deep and wide enough for me to stand in and move around in a bit, with shelves of varying heights and sizes, holding an almost bewildering variety of foodstuffs. My eyes picked out a full head of Romaine lettuce, packaged deli meats, several types of bread, bottles of juice and milk, soda, ground beef and steaks, a whole chicken, and more¡­


    ¡­Before settling on the absurdity that I¡¯d refused to even see at first. Slightly below eye-level, center-front, was a shelf that was empty except for a cafeteria-style tray. On the tray sat a bowl of shredded wheat, a small pitcher of milk, a plate with two slices of toast and a half-rasher of bacon, both cooked to what was - to my eyes - perfection. Behind them on the tray sat a smaller bowl with a few pats of butter and a jar of apple jelly (my favorite, of course), a steaming teapot and a mug - no dainty cup, this was a serious, four-finger mug.


    And a plate with a chocolate chip cookie on it.


    The cookie was, as requested, hot enough to still be steaming a little.


    My brain decided to take a short holiday.

 Chapter 12

    After staring blankly into the refrigerator for most of a minute, I managed to kick my brain back into gear. With a little sigh, I firmly decided - once again - not to let this throw me. I was seeing at least three absurdities, not counting food that appeared on request, but the tea smelled heavenly and my stomach gave a little rumble.


    Figuring that my stomach was, at least in this instance, smarter than I was, I took the tray out of the refrigerator, carried it over to the table by the fireplace, and heard the fridge door click shut behind me. I set the tray down on the table and unloaded it before sitting down.


    Sparkle practically pounced on the cookie - regardless of its heat - as soon as I set its plate down. The cookie was almost as large as she was herself, but she tucked it away completely before I finished sitting down. She didn¡¯t leave so much as a crumb¡­I know this for a fact because she scooped up the last few bits and popped them in her mouth before sprawling on the plate, looking replete and happy.


    I followed her example, though with more decorum, voluntarily taking my brain off-line for a few minutes and steadily working my way through the provided breakfast. Ken let me eat in silence until I was down to peeling the orange, when he finally asked, ¡°So, what would you like to start with this morning?¡±


    I popped a piece of the orange into my mouth and chewed - it was as sweet and juicy as it had looked - to give myself a moment to consider. ¡°I think we need to discuss what you did with my mind last night.¡±


    Ken tipped his head. ¡°Which part? Viewing your memory, or starting to teach you about Evocation?¡±


    ¡°Strangely enough, the ¡®viewing my memory¡¯ part neither bothers nor particularly concerns me,¡± I said thoughtfully. ¡°That¡¯s just a sort of telepathy.¡±


    ¡°In a manner of speaking,¡± Ken agreed.


    ¡°But teaching me something while I was asleep,¡± I said, ¡°is the stuff of urban legend. All those stories about people who went to sleep wearing headphones and listening to a recording of themselves repeating the same information over and over again to memorize something¡­it¡¯s been pretty conclusively debunked, at least for most people.¡± I separated another wedge of orange with my thumbnail and popped it in my mouth.


    Ken smiled. ¡°What we did was not quite that. Instead, we engaged your subconscious mind while your conscious mind was asleep. Ordinarily, your subconscious mind would enter a dream state -¡±


    ¡°REM sleep,¡± I interjected.


    Ken nodded. ¡°Indeed. At which time it would, under most ordinary circumstances, dispense with some of the stresses of the day through dreams. Instead, we turned your REM sleep cycles to a more productive end.¡±


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t that have disrupted my sleep, or kept it from being truly restful?¡± I asked.


    Ken smiled again. ¡°Magic.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡±


    ¡°Tell me,¡± Ken said, ¡°what McCoy¡¯s First Law of Elementary Magic is.¡±


    ¡°Conservation of energy and mass,¡± I said without hesitation, then quoted, ¡°¡®Nothing is ever truly created or destroyed, only changed from one state of being to another. Energy can become mass and mass can become energy, but either must come from somewhere.¡¯¡±


    Ken beamed. ¡°Precisely so. How about the Transfer of Energy Paradox?¡±


    ¡°¡®Every action has an equal, opposite, and - usually in hindsight - obvious reaction. For example, use fire magic to turn large areas of water into ice by redirecting the heat from the water.¡¯¡± I blinked.


    Ken nodded. ¡°What¡¯s the best way to defend against a force spell?¡±


    ¡°Deflection,¡± I said quickly. ¡°Blocking it outright requires an equal amount of energy, while deflecting it off at an angle requires significantly less, often half as much or less.¡± I stared at him. ¡°That,¡± I said, ¡°is just a little creepy.¡±


    He waved it off. ¡°Tell me you wouldn¡¯t have taken advantage of that at university if you¡¯d been able to.¡±


    ¡°Are you joking?¡± I asked, smiling a little. ¡°In a heartbeat. I could¡¯ve finished my degree in half the time. That doesn¡¯t make it any less creepy.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll adjust,¡± he said with certainty. ¡°It may take time, and there may be setbacks, but I¡¯m confident you¡¯ll adjust.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, I think.¡± I stared at the rest of the orange, then quickly broke it up into its wedges and offered one to Sparkle. She gobbled it down in a heartbeat, showing the same gusto with which she¡¯d demolished the cookie.


    Ken nodded a little. ¡°That doesn¡¯t answer my question, though. Where do you want to start this morning?¡±


    I thought about it again as I munched on another piece of orange, and decided that pursing the odd method of learning wouldn¡¯t accomplish anything. As he said, I would adjust. Or, more likely, I¡¯d eventually figure out how it was being accomplished and that would set my mind at ease. He might not even know¡­from what he¡¯d said previously, whatever my father had done to ¡®prepare¡¯ Ken to be my guide had left some holes in his memory.


    I supposed that even a ghost¡¯s mind had a finite amount of space in it. Or possibly - perhaps more likely - my father had some secrets he wanted kept until I was ready to deal with them.


    That was a chilling thought. But it made up my mind.


    ¡°I think,¡± I said, ¡°that I¡¯d like to see my father¡¯s study this morning.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re ready for that?¡± Ken asked.


    I offered Sparkle another piece of orange, which she devoured as if she was starving, and popped a piece in my mouth. It gave me a moment to consider his question.


    ¡°No,¡± I admitted after I swallowed, ¡°but I feel as though it needs to be done. There¡¯s likely to be all manner of things there that I need to know, and I¡¯m going to want a place where I can do my own work as I study. There¡¯s probably no better place for it.¡±


    Ken nodded a little. ¡°Both are undoubtedly true, Mistress.¡±


    ¡°Then I need to set aside my discomfort and just do it,¡± I said firmly. ¡°I¡¯ve never been one to shirk duties or unpleasant tasks. Tear the plaster off, that¡¯s me.¡±


    Ken smiled gently. ¡°This will hardly be unpleasant, Mistress. Definitely sad, possibly unsettling, but certainly not unpleasant. It is, after all, an opportunity to get to know your father.¡±


    I offered Sparkle the last piece of orange. She made it vanish as quickly and effortlessly as the rest, and I made another mental note try to learn something about her biology. I had no idea where she was putting it all. She¡¯d eaten at least twice her own body weight and showed no sign of it at all.


    ¡°You¡¯ve spoken a lot about my mother so far, but very little about my father,¡± I said.


    Ken sighed softly. ¡°I was closer to your mother, in her role as Guardian and mine as Caretaker. Your father was a very private man, especially after Mistress Chessie¡¯s death. You¡¯re likely to learn more about him from his study than from any other room in the house, and possibly more than I can actually tell you.¡±


    ¡°Then that¡¯s where we¡¯ll go this morning,¡± I said with a nod.


    I gathered the now-empty dishes back onto the tray and rose, carried it over to the sink, and was about to start washing it all when Ken quietly said, ¡°Just leave it there, Mistress. It will be taken care of.¡±


    I looked at him questioningly and was about to ask, when something in his expression warned me not to. So I held my tongue for now. Anyway, if I started questioning every incomprehensible thing that I saw in the House, I¡¯d never get anything done. Understanding of such (apparently) mundane oddities would no doubt come in the fullness of time. Surely, I would eventually build the proper intellectual framework into which to place most - if not all - of the magical things I¡¯d seen so far.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Or I¡¯d go stark, raving mad. Either way.


    So I followed him out of the kitchen and into a hallway. This time, I discovered I hadn¡¯t even really been expecting to exit back into the foyer. Perhaps I was already starting to adjust.


    Ken oriented himself and headed off down the hall with me on his heels and Sparkle flitting along beside me. After a moment, I realized that I could sense - distantly - why he was going that way. ¡°Ken, I feel almost like I know which way to go this time¡­¡±


    Ken beamed over his shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s excellent, Mistress! It means you¡¯re starting to open yourself up to the House a bit more. Eventually, the rapport between you and it will be so strong that you won¡¯t even need to think about it, you¡¯ll just know where you need to go.¡±


    Sparkle alighted on my shoulder and took a light hold on my ear to steady herself. ¡°Mistress Chessie always found it a bit disconcerting,¡± she said. ¡°I never understood why.¡±


    ¡°She felt shackled to the House,¡± Ken said. ¡°Don¡¯t misunderstand, she loved the House deeply, but I think the responsibility scared her. It was your father,¡± he added, falling back to walk beside me, ¡°who grounded her and helped her accept it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡± Sparkle agreed, as if just remembering it herself. ¡°Once she married Master James, she stopped feeling weird about the House and got comfortable with it.¡±


    Ken smiled at her, looking a bit amused. ¡°Indeed.¡±


    ¡°What about my mother¡¯s parents?¡± I asked suddenly. ¡°My grandparents.¡±


    Ken¡¯s smile faded. ¡°They died when she was only fourteen. The House basically closed up around her; she barely even went outside from then until just after her eighteenth birthday. Sparkle and I were her only regular company.¡±


    I wondered about the way he used the word regular, and at the tone of his voice, which suggested that he was reluctant to talk about my grandparents for some reason. I felt the urge for a lighter subject as well, so instead of pursuing that line of thought I asked, ¡°So how did she meet my father?¡±


    Ken¡¯s smile returned. ¡°Oh, he came calling a few weeks after her eighteenth birthday. He was doing magical research as a member of the International Consortium of Organized Arcana, and had been tasked with looking into the status of the House. In fact, someone from there will probably visit once they realize the house is inhabited again. Master James asked your mother out on a date the very same day he first visited¡­he got her out into the world again.¡±


    ¡°The¡­International Consortium of Organized Arcana?¡± I asked. Yet another puzzle piece with odd edges.


    Ken made a weird, almost dismissive sound. ¡°The ICOA is sort of the governmental body for the magical community around the world. They decide what is and isn¡¯t okay to do with magic, police practitioners of the Art, and generally act rather holier-than-thou.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re a bunch of overbearing, stuffy, bearded gits!¡± Sparkle added with certainty from beside my right ear, as if repeating something she¡¯d heard many times.


    Ken laughed. ¡°Mistress Chessie used to say that all the time. They can be a bit¡­reserved, to put it mildly. Your mother didn¡¯t approve, and always wanted to learn new ways of doing things regardless of their opinion on the subject. Most of the time they didn¡¯t care, but once in a while she¡¯d tread on someone¡¯s toes by finding an easier or more efficient way of casting a spell or enchanting an object. Your father found it highly amusing.¡±


    ¡°For such flexible beings,¡± Sparkle said, ¡°mortals are notoriously resistant to change.¡±


    I laughed. ¡°I won¡¯t argue that point, Sparkle. I agree with you!¡±


    Ken smiled. ¡°I do too. And here we are.¡±


    It took me a moment to realize that I¡¯d actually stopped walking a moment before he announced our arrival. That was definitely going to take some getting used to.


    The door in question was plain oak in a fairly standard design. The frame was undecorated, and the knob was plain brass with a keyhole. And yet, somehow it loomed over me, feeling unbearably large and heavy-looking.


    My palms suddenly felt clammy, and I realized that I was trembling just a little. On my shoulder, Sparkle suddenly leaned against the side of my face, a surprisingly warm and comforting weight.


    But I couldn¡¯t bring myself to reach for the Master Key to unlock the door, or for the knob to even try it. I couldn¡¯t shake the impression that this room held secrets that I didn¡¯t want to know. That I might, even, be safer and better off not knowing.


    But ignorance has never saved anyone from harm that would¡¯ve come eventually anyway. Quite the opposite.


    ¡°Mistress,¡± Ken asked softly, ¡°are you sure you¡¯re ready for this?¡±


    I took a deep breath and let it out, trying to steady myself. ¡°No. But the longer I put this off, the harder it will become.¡±


    With that, I reached for the door knob, pulling the Master Key out on its chain. I unlocked the door, turned the knob, and opened it.


    Before I even finished opening the door, let alone could step into the room, a painting on the far wall grabbed my attention and shocked me into immobility.


    It was a portrait, life-size and almost photo-realistic in its exquisite detail. The young woman standing in it couldn¡¯t have been older than her early to mid-twenties, and had a sheet of purest white hair flowing down her back. She was wearing a forest-green sun dress that left her arms bare and fell almost to her knees, and was standing barefoot in a grassy clearing that looked exactly like the one outside my bedroom window, smiling warmly at whomever had painted the portrait.


    ¡°That¡¯s me!¡± I blurted out without thinking about it.


    Ken laughed and Sparkle giggled. ¡°Now you understand,¡± Ken said, ¡°why we¡¯re certain you are your mother¡¯s daughter.¡±


    His words broke my shock and made me look at the painting more closely. While the resemblance was absolutely shocking - at a glance, it looked like my mother and I could have passed for twins - I quickly saw that she would have been a bit taller than me, and not quite as slender. Her hair wasn¡¯t quite as long as I wore mine and, most tellingly, both of her eyes were the same color, brilliant green, unlike my complete heterochromia.


    ¡°Who¡­¡± My voice cracked on the word, and my eyes were more than a little bit watery. I cleared my throat and tried again. ¡°Who painted it?¡±


    ¡°Your father,¡± Ken said. ¡°He was an extremely talented painter, though he mostly did landscapes. You¡¯ll find several of his paintings scattered around the house, especially in the library and some of the common rooms.¡± He gestured to the portrait. ¡°He painted that just before they were married.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen her before,¡± I said softly, taking a couple of steps into the room, unable to tear my eyes from the portrait of my mother.


    Ken made a soft sound of understanding, then said, ¡°The resemblance is quite remarkable, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°I had no idea,¡± I said. ¡°I guess that¡¯s why you knew who I was the instant I walked through the door, and why Sparkle mistook me for her.¡±


    Sparkle landed on my shoulder and hugged my earlobe.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Ken said quietly. ¡°You are unquestionably Mistress Franchesca¡¯s daughter.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Obviously.¡± I reached up and lightly touched the cool surface of my mother¡¯s choker where it rode around my neck. I¡¯d already gotten so used to the way it felt that I¡¯d actually forgotten to take it off when I went to bed the night before, or when I¡¯d bathed that morning.


    It was a long couple of minutes before finally managed to pull my eyes away from the portrait to take in the rest of the room.


    It was¡­cozy, for lack of a better term. The walls, floor and ceiling were made of darkly stained oak. Oriental area rugs covered parts of the floor. Directly across from the door - facing it - was a huge, solid, old-fashioned desk that I tentatively identified as being made of teak, with an equally large leather office chair behind it. The surface of the desk was covered with many of the expected office implements, as old-fashioned as the desk itself: a blotter, two pen sets in holders, a couple of paper trays, an old-fashioned desk lamp and an honest-to-goodness rotary-style telephone.


    And a big, open, leather-bound journal, which sat squarely in center of the blotter.


    The walls were lined with bookcases, covering almost every available inch of wall space and packed to bursting with books. And that was pretty much it¡­the portrait of my mother was really the only truly decorative object in the room, aside from a simple brass six-bulb chandelier that hung from the ceiling in the center of the room, providing light.


    But I loved it, immediately and powerfully. This was a room meant for work and study, and it called out to me to use it for its intended purpose.


    My attention drifted back to the journal. ¡°Ken, is that¡­¡± I trailed off into silence.


    Ken understood anyway, and nodded. ¡°Yes, Mistress. You¡¯ll find the drawers on the right side of the desk locked¡­they hold the rest of your father¡¯s journals and much of his research. The Master Key will unlock them.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± was all I could think of to say. I just couldn¡¯t take my eyes off the journal, nor my mind off the answers it might stand ready to provide. Answers I wasn¡¯t sure I really wanted, or was ready to deal with. Did I know what I was getting into? For all I knew, reading that journal might set me on a path that would get me killed as surely as my parents had been.


    Assuming, of course, that they actually had been, and that Ken wasn¡¯t misinterpreting events.


    But then, Margrave had been insistent that I come here and take possession of the house as quickly as possible, and he¡¯d worked hard - I assumed anyway - to facilitate my speedy arrival. He must have had some reason for doing so. Not to mention the letter from my father that had been included in the bundle of paperwork Margrave had given me.


    I walked around the desk and sat down in the chair. It was huge, at least for someone my size¡­easily big enough for me to curl up and take a nap in. But it was comfortable, and its scent was a strangely comforting combination of old leather and sandalwood. With a little effort, I pulled it right up to the desk and drew the journal towards me. It was already open to a page about two-thirds of the way through, and I immediately recognized the handwriting within, from the letter and the back of the picture that Margrave had delivered.


    My father¡¯s handwriting.


    For a moment, I couldn¡¯t concentrate well enough to actually read what he¡¯d written. All I could see was his handwriting. Tangible evidence of the existence of a man I¡¯d never known.


    Then I felt Ken¡¯s ephemeral touch on my left shoulder, and Sparkle¡¯s curiously reassuring weight settling on my right as she sat down there. I smiled up at Ken, and gave Sparkle¡¯s legs an affectionate little pat where they lay on my shoulder. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Neither replied. Neither needed too. They were there for me, and that was enough. The simple fact of their presence gave me the strength I needed to clear my head and focus on what was written in the journal.


    The last entry was dated eight months earlier, on the 17th of February. I began to read.

 Chapter 13

    17th February


    This is likely to be the last entry in this journal. The traps laid out are closing around me, and there¡¯s little more I can do to avoid them. I have few options remaining to me, aside from some unsavory paths I will not go down, not for any reason. So I will put down here my final thoughts and words of advice to you, my dearest Caitlyn.


    How I wish things didn¡¯t have to be this way. I wish I had more time. Time to be with you, and prepare you for what¡¯s to come. Time to teach you, get to know you, laugh with you, all the things a proper parent should do with their child.


    Instead, I must prepare the way for you, and will do so with all my skill.


    I just re-read what I wrote. Your mother would have said that I sound like a bad melodrama. Best to move on to the actual details.


    I¡¯ve finished my work with the house¡¯s spirit¡­the Caretaker, as your mother called him¡­readying him to be your tutor and guide. You may trust him without reservation, as he is literally incapable of betraying you in any way. He will guide you in all the ways I cannot.


    I have fortified the house¡¯s defenses, and they were already formidable indeed. From this day forward, no one - aside from myself, of course - will be able to enter the house or grounds without your explicit permission. Through Margrave - whom you will have met by the time you read this, and whom you may also trust for different reasons - I have been able to obtain samples of your blood and hair from your doctor, allowing me to teach the house to recognize you ahead of your arrival. If I understand things correctly, this should ease its acceptance of you as its new Guardian.


    And I have gone to great lengths to restock the laboratory. In fact, I suspect I may have gone too far in doing so¡­you may find things there that you will have no need of for many years to come. But it¡¯s better to have something and not need it, than need something and not have it.


    I have instructed the Caretaker to see to it that you find your mother¡¯s collar and Sparkle¡¯s ring. To be honest, it surprises me how much I have missed that charming little creature¡­I rather wish I hadn¡¯t sent her away, but her presence, with how devastated she was after your mother¡¯s death, was a burden I could not deal with at the time. This was better for her¡­she undoubtedly lost track of time in a day or three, was distracted, and forgot for a while.


    Part of me wishes I''d been able to do the same.


    Your mother¡¯s collar contains a few helpful secrets that not even the Caretaker knows about, and though Sparkle does she was sworn to silence about them by your mother¡­and nothing will make her break that vow. When you¡¯re ready, or when you need it, you¡¯ll learn what it hides. Until then - and after - never take it off.


    I know it will be difficult, but I would advise you to remain within the confines of the house until your magical education has reached a point where the Caretaker is satisfied that you can defend yourself adequately. The house will see to all your needs until then. If you must go out - and I do understand why you might need a breath of fresh air - stay within the borders of the town. In the house, you are completely safe¡­in the town, reasonably safe. But there are people and beings out in the world who would - and will - seek to do you harm.


    In particular, I must warn you against a man named Bellinus von Einhardt. I have no physical evidence, but I am completely certain that he played some part in your mother¡¯s death. He will undoubtedly seek you out, and may even claim that encountering you was purely accidental. Be extremely cautious of him if you meet him, and do not invite him into the house under any circumstances.


    Also, be extremely cautious of the Sidhe, of whom the Caretaker will teach you. Aside from their representatives at the law firm of Summers and Winters, you cannot entirely trust them. They are long-standing masters of trickery and deception, and while they may not intentionally mean you harm - in fact, they may in time be good allies to foster - their comprehension of the frailty of humans is often limited at best. And they, like von Einhardt, will likely seek you out when they realize the house has a Guardian again.


    In the past, Guardians of the house have dealt with the Sidhe for a variety of reasons. I will not say do not treat with them¡­as I said, they may be useful allies for you in the future. But always do so with the greatest of caution.


    One last thing: I have prepared and set aside several lengths of wood that I feel may suit you well when you prepare your first staff. Most of them are woods your mother loved and resonated with, magically speaking. It is my hope they will be as good for you. The Caretaker knows where to find them. It is a small thing, to be sure, and something you undoubtedly could do for yourself¡­but I wanted to do something for you with my own hands.


    Silly, isn¡¯t it? After everything I¡¯ve done, to feel I still needed to do more. But I suppose that¡¯s natural.


    I hope you can forgive me the fears that caused me to send you away, and understand why I had to do it. I did not want you to grow up trapped in this house, the way your mother did. You are an adult now, and I hope better prepared than a child to handle these stresses.


    Never doubt that your mother and I love you. You are the most important thing in the world to us.


    Be safe.


    Be happy.


    I pushed the journal away and sat back in the chair, accepting the handkerchief that Ken was holding out to me. I wiped my eyes and cheeks with it. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said softly. ¡°Do I want to know where you carry a handkerchief?¡±


    Ken smiled faintly. ¡°There¡¯s several of them in a very neat and tidy stack on one of the shelves behind you. Your father kept them there.¡±


    ¡°He used them a lot after Mistress Chessie left, before he sent me away,¡± Sparkle said. She had flitted from my shoulder to the desk as I¡¯d read, and now stood looking up at me sadly.


    It was such a perfectly mundane explanation that for a moment it actually seemed out of place in my increasingly odd new reality. I was going to have to knit all of this together in my mind somehow, before it made me crack.


    With a sigh, I swiveled around in the chair to look up at the portrait of my mother, and made a mental note to tuck the photo of my father into one corner of it. ¡°I wish you were here,¡± I said softly to it. ¡°There¡¯s so much I don¡¯t understand, it¡¯s really beginning to scare me. I wish you could¡¯ve been here to help me with it.¡±


    Sparkle landed on the arm of the chair and looked up at the painting too. ¡°Me too.¡±


    I looked down at her and smiled. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    She gave me a bewildered look. ¡°You¡¯re¡­welcome? For what?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Never mind. My father wrote something about some secrets regarding my mother¡¯s choker¡­¡± I refused to call it a collar. That just felt too weird, somehow.


    Sparkle bounced on her toes and beamed up at me. ¡°Yup!¡±


    Ken drifted over and exchanged an amused look with me. ¡°Can you tell us about it, Sparkle?¡±


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    She folded her arms and shook her head. ¡°Nuh uh.¡±


    ¡°Please, Sparkle?¡± I asked.


    Her firm expression faltered. ¡°I¡¯m¡­not supposed to, Mistress,¡± she said, sounding a little uncomfortable. She shifted from foot to foot, fidgeting restlessly. ¡°Mistress Chessie told me not to tell you ¡®till it was time.¡±


    I nodded a little. ¡°All right. I can accept that.¡±


    Sparkle relaxed and looked relieved.


    ¡°When will it be time?¡± Ken asked curiously.


    Sparkle gave him an uneasy look. ¡°Mistress Chessie said I¡¯d know. It¡¯s not now, though.¡± She nodded firmly to punctuate the statement.


    ¡°Ah,¡± I said.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Ken said.


    We exchanged another look. Ken shrugged helplessly.


    I smiled down at Sparkle. ¡°Promise you¡¯ll tell me when it¡¯s time?¡±


    She beamed up at me. ¡°I absolutely, positively promise with certainty, Mistress!¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Sparkle.¡± I turned back to the desk and stared at my father¡¯s journal again.


    ¡°You should probably read the rest of them, Mistress,¡± Ken said softly. ¡°There will undoubtedly be important or useful information in them, and he may have left other messages for you.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I will. But not right now.¡± I looked up at him. ¡°I need time to digest this. It¡¯s all making my head spin a bit.¡±


    Ken¡¯s expression was understanding. ¡°How about taking a stab at those magical aptitude tests I mentioned? They should be good and distracting.¡±


    I thought about it for a moment, then nodded. ¡°All right. It does sound kind of fun.¡±


    Ken huffed a small laugh. ¡°You won¡¯t think so by lunchtime. Come on, let¡¯s go to the lab.¡±


    The magical aptitude test turned out to be a bewildering barrage of seemingly unrelated questions and small physical feats.


    ¡°Which of these colors do you find the most soothing? Which one do you find the most jarring?¡±


    ¡°How does a bright, sunny day make you feel? What about a gray and rainy day?¡±


    "Hold your right hand out in front of you and make a fist. Now extend your index finger. Close your eyes. Can you touch your right index finger with your left without opening your eyes?"


    "Which of these birds would you rather be: A sparrow, an owl, or an eagle?"


    "I''m going to use magic to reproduce several sounds. I want you to give me your first impression of how each one makes you feel."


    Ken even had me stand on one leg - first one, then the other - to see how long I could stay on each one. Thanks to childhood gymnastics and ballet lessons, and years of keeping myself in good shape since, it was several minutes for each without so much as a wobble. Ken found that amusing, though he wouldn¡¯t explain why.


    Sparkle dozed off about fifteen minutes in, curled up on top of a stack of books.


    By the time we broke for lunch, I was both exhausted and bewildered. As we walked toward the kitchen together, Sparkle fluttering down the hallway ahead of us (still yawning and stretching), I looked at Ken and said, ¡°Okay, so, you¡¯re going to need to explain that to me. What was that all about?¡±


    ¡°There are several ways of determining what forms of magic you have an affinity for,¡± Ken said. ¡°This was the least intrusive, and requires the least amount of actual magical proficiency. It¡¯s not the most accurate, but it¡¯s well grounded and gives us a good place to start. Basically, it¡¯s a personality test.¡±


    I nodded, trying to follow. ¡°I rather thought it reminded me of personality tests I studied in the psychology classes I took as an undergrad. So, what did you learn about me?¡±


    Ken smiled. ¡°Well, in this case, I wasn¡¯t looking for personality traits, I was looking for elemental affinities. That is, which elemental magics will be easiest for you to work with, and which will be difficult for you.¡±


    ¡°All right.¡±


    ¡°In your case,¡± Ken said, ¡°I think you¡¯re going to find Water, Air, and Force particularly easy to work with -¡±


    ¡°Force?¡± I asked curiously. My brain regurgitated a variety of information about mathematical calculations for force magic in Evocation, but it didn¡¯t clarify things particularly.


    Ken nodded. ¡°Elemental classifications for magic are particularly imprecise pieces of terminology. Force magic, which some scholars refer to Will or Spirit magic, amounts to using willpower to manipulate kinetic energy to produce force effects: Telekinesis, shields, kinetic strikes, even the manipulation of raw energy to some extent.¡±


    I¡¯m fairly certain that the look I gave him was one of blank incomprehension.


    He laughed softly. ¡°Fear not, Mistress, it¡¯ll make a lot more sense once you start doing it. Magic can be like that¡­seemingly nonsensical until you¡¯ve actually produced your first spell effect for a type of magic or element.¡±


    I sighed a little. ¡°All right.¡±


    ¡°Anyway,¡± he resumed, ¡°Water, Air and Force will be your best domains. They¡¯re actually quite a bit more useful than they sound, since those domains include a wide variety of healing and defensive magics, as well as several highly energy-efficient combat forms -¡±


    ¡°Charming,¡± I said dryly.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to have to get used to the idea, Mistress,¡± he said gently. ¡°There are going to be times where you will need to use magic to defend yourself, and that means attacking as well.¡±


    My head was starting to ache a little.


    Ken seemed to notice, as always, and very gently said, ¡°You have time to adjust, Mistress. It¡¯s not going to happen this afternoon, tomorrow, or even next month.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said quietly.


    Sparkle settled on my shoulder. ¡°Mistress Chessie had trouble with combat magic at first too. It¡¯ll work out.¡±


    I gave her a little smile, strangely reassured by both her reassurance and the fact that my mother had had similar difficulties.


    ¡°To resume,¡± Ken said, ¡°you¡¯ll find Earth magic more difficult and taxing, but it would be valuable for you to learn some, and working with Earth magic will help improve your magical stamina. Positive elemental magic will probably be very difficult for you, but it couldn¡¯t hurt to learn some. Fire, Shadow, and Negative elemental magics will likely be almost impossible for you.¡±


    My curiosity was reasserting itself, which I took as a good sign. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Ken said, ¡°Fire magic is inherently more violent and volatile than most other elements, and requires a specific type of personality to control well and without additional tools. It¡¯s also the opposite of Water magic, which - at least according to this test - you have a natural affinity for, which will make Fire that much more difficult for you to produce and manage.¡± He smiled. ¡°We¡¯ll leave Fire magic aside until you¡¯ve learned to create tools - foci - to help you control it.¡±


    I supposed that made sense. ¡°All right. So what about positive, negative, and shadow magics?¡±


    Ken sighed. ¡°We¡¯re going to tread on theological ground for a moment. How¡¯s your faith in God?¡±


    I gave him a weird look. It was a weird question. Then I shrugged. ¡°I grew up in a Catholic orphanage. Personally, I have no particular use for religion. If you can¡¯t take care of yourself, praying for help isn¡¯t going to accomplish anything.¡±


    Ken nodded a little and gave me a penetrating look. ¡°You prayed for someone to take you away from it.¡±


    I stopped walking, and Ken drifted to a halt as he turned to look at me.


    ¡°I prayed,¡± I said quietly. ¡°I prayed for my parents to come for me. Or for a nice couple to adopt me. Or even just for the system to give a damn about me, by the time I was fourteen. God never did anything for me, as far as I¡¯m concerned.¡±


    I heard the bitterness in my own voice and cut myself off, took a deep breath and let it out. ¡°Sorry. I guess that¡¯s mostly down to the arrangements my father made, isn¡¯t it?¡± I didn¡¯t yet have a clear picture of why he¡¯d done it, and was still prepared to give him the benefit of doubt. Though I was definitely both angry with him and disappointed by his decisions¡­but more than either, I was sad. Sad that he''d felt so trapped that the only way he''d been able to see out was to put me somewhere safely out of the way and¡­and what? Act as a visible lure to help keep attention off of me? Perhaps. It was a puzzle I didn''t yet have all of the pieces to.


    Ken nodded slowly. ¡°Mostly. And it¡¯s quite all right. Any time you need someone to listen, I¡¯m just a shout away. When you feel ready, we can talk about it at length. Until then, I feel quite safe in saying that both Positive and Negative elemental magics will be quite impossible for you, as they both require a lot of faith in¡­shall we say higher powers?¡±


    I nodded.


    ¡°You won¡¯t miss out on much by not studying those,¡± Ken said confidently, ¡°as they¡¯re largely just ways for people with more faith in outside forces than in themselves to reproduce elemental effects. Though I would advise you not to try using a Crucifix to hold off a vampire if you encounter one. That requires true faith, which you clearly do not have. Fortunately, elemental magic will work just as well.¡±


    My brain stopped working for a moment. ¡°Vampires are real?¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°Very much so, and in several varieties. Which reminds me, we¡¯ll need to start your magical bestiary lessons soon¡­¡± He sighed. ¡°There¡¯s so much you need to learn¡­but don¡¯t let it overwhelm you. We¡¯ll take it a piece at a time. Now, where was I¡­¡±


    My head was starting to spin a little again.


    He pursed his lips before resuming his train of thought. ¡°Oh yes. Shadow magic, on the other hand, takes a certain¡­darkness of spirit that you just don¡¯t have. Which honestly pleases me.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said. ¡°So it¡¯s¡­¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say evil,¡± Ken said thoughtfully. ¡°I don¡¯t believe that magic is inherently good or evil. Magic is a tool like any other¡­it is simply knowledge, skill, and power. But Shadow magic¡­let¡¯s just say that as a generalization it has few beneficial uses, and has a long history of being used in unpleasant ways. We''ll leave it at that for now.¡± Something in his tone of voice warned me not to pursue the subject. Either it wasn¡¯t something I was prepared to hear about, or it was something he was uncomfortable discussing.


    Sparkle murmured softly in my ear, ¡°Pixies like me can¡¯t use Shadow magics unless they¡¯ve been¡­corrupted. It¡¯s a good thing that you have no affinity for them.¡±


    If a charming creature like Sparkle felt something was bad, it must be bad. So I let the subject go. ¡°All right. What are we doing after lunch, then?¡±


    Ken beamed enthusiastically. ¡°After lunch, you¡¯re going to try casting your first spell! So eat heartily, because spellcasting burns a lot of calories.¡±

 Chapter 14

    Two hours later, I sat down on a stool in the laboratory with a huff of frustration. I rested one elbow on the tall workbench beside me and glared at Ken.


    Ken gave me a reassuring smile that didn¡¯t quite make me want to tear his face off. ¡°Relax for a minute, Mistress, and take a deep breath. Every spellcaster¡¯s first practical lesson is difficult. Let¡¯s start at the top.¡±


    I nodded a little and took a deep breath as advised, letting it out slowly. I¡¯d always been quick at learning new things, thanks in part to my photographic memory. But for some reason, casting my first spell was eluding me, and it was very very frustrating.


    ¡°You,¡± Ken said, ¡°are a highly intelligent and imaginative person with an analytical mind, so it stands to reason that you can construct spells in both of the common ways: by visualization, or by calculation.


    ¡°Your mother,¡± he continued, smiling at some memory, ¡°found visualization easier. Your father preferred calculation. As a generality, visualization is the preferred method for beginners because it tends to be faster and easier, if less precise in the long run. So that¡¯s where we¡¯re starting.


    ¡°First,¡± Ken went on, ¡°you visualize the effect you wish the spell to create. In this case, you¡¯re trying to create a small breeze, just enough to spin that pinwheel.¡± He pointed to the brightly colored children¡¯s toy, its stick held in a vise on the edge of the table.


    I turned my baleful glare to the pinwheel for a moment. It almost seemed to be intentionally resisting my attempts to do this. ¡°Okay.¡± Perhaps if I glared at it long enough, it would just burst into flame and release me from this torture. More likely Ken would have another in reserve, and I¡¯d be required to rein in my emotions and try again. I took another deep breath and let it out.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ken smile. He probably suspected what spiteful thoughts I was sending at the pinwheel. ¡°Once you have the visualization in mind, the spell has ¨C essentially ¨C been constructed, and you have to package it. The package is what most wizards call a verbal focus...that is, the word or words spoken to contain, focus, and trigger the release of the spell. Latin is the traditional lingual medium for spellcasting ¨C at least in this part of the world ¨C so that¡¯s what you¡¯re going to work with, at least for now. Fortunately, you don¡¯t need to understand Latin, or even use correct grammar. It¡¯s about intent and shaping rather than precision linguistics.¡±


    ¡°Maybe that¡¯s where I¡¯m getting stuck,¡± I sighed. ¡°That just doesn¡¯t make sense to me.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Ken said, ¡°that particular part of spellcasting does tend to defy specific definition. If packaging a spell was just a matter of mathematics and was easily quantified, it¡¯s possible that anybody would be able to cast spells in this manner. But it requires a specific talent that not everybody has. It¡¯s likely a genetic trait, but as far as I know, nobody¡¯s ever identified it.


    ¡°Be that as it may,¡± he went on, ¡°let me see if I can clarify.¡± He paused and considered his words for a moment, idly pacing back and forth as he thought. After a moment, he said, ¡°All right, I¡¯m going to use a firearm analogy, because it happens to work fairly well.¡±


    I smiled a little. ¡°Whatever works, right?¡±


    Ken waggled his hand. ¡°As a generality. So, think of the verbal focus ¨C in your case, the Latin word or words ¨C as a sort of shotgun shell. The effect you¡¯ve visualized is the buckshot, and your magic ¨C the energy you draw from whatever source you¡¯re using ¨C is the propellant. When you put it all together, you have a spell...or, in the framework of my analogy, a live shotgun shell. The act of gathering it up and casting it is firing the shotgun.¡±


    He hesitated a moment, then smiled ruefully. ¡°I think that rather fell apart at the end, but it was good enough.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Actually, that made sense.¡±


    Ken beamed. ¡°Good! Ready to give it another try?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said firmly, rising and pushing the stool to one side.


    ¡°Excellent! Now...visualize the effect you want.¡±


    I stared at the pinwheel, imagining it spinning in a gentle breeze. I imagined how the air would feel moving over my skin as it went past, and how it would sound if I could hear it.


    ¡°You may want to aim using your hand at first,¡± Ken said. ¡°Think of your hands as a focus that will always be available to you for aiming.¡±


    My lips quirked into a little smile as I raised my right hand, made a fist, then extended my index finger and thumb to make a gun shape, and aimed it at the pinwheel.


    Ken chuckled. ¡°Fair enough. Now, think about what it felt like when you were sensing the magic in the lab¡¯s door, and turn your attention inward. You should be able to feel something similar within yourself...that¡¯s your magic, your energy. Gather that feeling of energy into your hand. Not too much, not too little, just enough for the effect you want to create.¡±


    I pursed my lips. This was where I kept having trouble. How did one gather energy without being able to see it or feel it ahead of time. ¡°Where does the magic come from?¡±


    ¡°For our purposes today, you¡¯re drawing on your own innate magic. Sometimes it¡¯s called Will, Ki, Anima, Mana, or any number of other things. But it¡¯s all just energy, pure and simple.¡± He paused for a moment, then added, ¡°If it helps, visualize gathering the energy the same way you visualized the effect. Blend them together. Have you ever seen any Sci-Fi anime?¡±


    I blinked and looked over at him, thrown by the non sequitur. ¡°Yes¡­¡±


    ¡°Think about what happens when big energy weapons in anime prepare to fire...how they appear to gather energy into them. Remember that visual?¡± Ken asked.


    I nodded.


    ¡°It¡¯s just like that,¡± he said.


    Weirdly, that actually helped. I turned my attention back to the pinwheel and visualized a ball of air swirling at the tip of my extended index finger. Then I closed my eyes and imagined that little streamers and motes of light were gathering from the air around my hand and mixing into the ball of air.


    After a moment, I realized that I could feel the same sort of tingling tension in my chest and around my hand that I¡¯d felt radiating from the door. When I opened my eyes, I could actually see the streamers and motes of blue-white energy that I¡¯d imagined gathering into a swirling sphere in front of my extended finger.


    ¡°Fantastic!¡± Ken exclaimed. ¡°I think you¡¯re gathering too much energy, but for your first attempt that¡¯s okay! Now...package it in the verbal focus and release the energy. Remember that the intensity with which you use the verbal focus will influence the intensity of the spell, as will how much energy you push into it.¡±


    I nodded a little. Part of me was carefully listening to Ken¡¯s instructions. Part of me was concentrating on holding the visualization and power together. The rest of me narrowed my eyes at the pinwheel. This time, I was going to make it spin.


    I sighted down my hand and whispered, ¡°Ventus.¡±


    Finally, I got it right, and several things happened all at once:


    I felt a strange, ephemeral pulling sensation in my hand and forearm. At the same time, there was a soft flash of light at the tip of my fingertip and a *woosh* sound as the tension gathered at my fingertip and seemed to rush out from it. I felt a breeze swirl around me, pick up a bit of speed, then move down my arm, over my hand, and across the workbench.


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    A glass bottle about a foot to the left of the pinwheel rattled and rocked back and forth. Several papers on a neighboring table rustled gently in a breeze that ¨C however badly aimed it was ¨C I had created.


    The pinwheel, sadly, didn¡¯t so much as twitch. Sparkle cheered anyway, throwing her hands in the air and bouncing on her toes.


    At that moment, the pinwheel honestly didn¡¯t matter. Elation flooded through me as I turned to Ken and said with absolute glee, ¡°I did it! My aim sucks, but I did it!¡± Then I had to grab the edge of the table as my knees went rubbery on me and the world tipped to one side a little for a moment. ¡°Woah...¡±


    ¡°You did very well, Mistress,¡± Ken said reassuringly. ¡°For a first effort, that was excellent. Now, sit down for a minute...that probably took a lot out of you.¡±


    I did as I was told, hooking the stool with my foot and almost collapsing onto it. The world had already righted itself...or rather, my equilibrium had...but my legs still felt wobbly. ¡°Is that why I feel weird?¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°In a manner of speaking, you just flexed a muscle that¡¯s never been used before. It¡¯ll take time to build up your stamina. But that was a fantastic start. It took your mother three days to do what you just did in one.¡±


    I returned his smile as what I¡¯d done really started to sink in, and a second wave of disbelieving elation washed over me. ¡°I did it,¡± I said incredulously. ¡°I actually cast a real spell.¡±


    Sparkle cheered again.


    Ken laughed with delight. ¡°Yes, Mistress, you really did. Congratulations.¡±


    I smiled, feeling unexpected exhaustion creeping into the rest of my limbs. ¡°Good grief. I feel like I¡¯ve been awake for two days and ran a 10k marathon.¡±


    Ken gave me a reassuring smile. ¡°That¡¯s normal. It¡¯ll get easier the more you practice, and pretty quickly too.¡±


    ¡°Thank goodness,¡± I said with feeling. ¡°Do I have to do it again right now?¡±


    ¡°No, Mistress,¡± Ken said. ¡°You might pass out if you did. First, you need some food and some rest. We¡¯ll try it again tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like a great idea,¡± I replied, feeling like my eyelids were going to slide shut on their own.


    At Ken¡¯s insistence, I managed to stay awake and upright long enough to have a sandwich and a bowl of soup, then retired to my bedroom and collapsed on the bed without so much as removing my sneakers. I was asleep almost the instant my head hit the pillows.


    A moment later I opened my eyes to find myself standing in an empty, gray, featureless room. There were no doors or windows, and I was starting to wonder what sort of dream this was when Ken appeared in front of me, and it clicked into place for me. This was the dream construct he¡¯d told me about, like the schoolroom he¡¯d created the night before, but which I could barely remember.


    Ken himself appeared to be solid and alive. Here, in my mind, I supposed that it was perfectly natural for him to look that way. His skin was pale but healthy-looking, and he had very dark brown hair and eyes the color of green jade. He was wearing jeans and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up.


    He smiled at me. ¡°Since you¡¯re so exhausted, you slid almost directly into REM sleep. I threw this construct together quickly and without any detail, because we¡¯re going to use it for a lesson that I want you to remember clearly in the morning.¡±


    I blinked a few times and looked down at myself. I was dressed as I had been all day and felt none of the bone-deep exhaustion I¡¯d experienced in the wake of casting my first spell. ¡°I don¡¯t feel tired...and why will I be able to remember this lesson more clearly than last night¡¯s?¡±


    ¡°Your body is exhausted,¡± Ken explained. ¡°Your mind isn¡¯t. At least, not yet. You¡¯ll remember this lesson clearly, unlike last night¡¯s...because we¡¯re doing it a bit differently.¡± He hesitated a moment, then smiled lopsidedly. ¡°You might be a bit more tired tomorrow morning than usual, but I think it¡¯ll be worth it.¡±


    ¡°All right,¡± I said, returning his smile. ¡°I trust you. What is tonight¡¯s lesson?¡±


    ¡°Tonight,¡± he said, ¡°I want to see how good your spell visualization is, so I¡¯m going to start teaching you about using magic to craft illusions.¡± He gestured around us at the blank room. ¡°You are going to build a permanent construct for us to use during your lessons while you¡¯re sleeping.¡±


    I looked around at the drab, featureless walls, and nodded. ¡°All right.¡± I mentally braced myself for whatever effort was to come...metaphorically rolling up my sleeves...and discovered that my dream-self was rolling up the sleeves of my blouse.


    That gave me a clue as to how things might work in this dreamscape¡­thought became reality. Which led me to an insight about spellcasting: that was precisely what I was doing in the real world, imposing my will by making my thoughts into reality. Clearly, this was something I¡¯d need to give more thought, and with caution. Just how far could magic bend reality? It was something to look into it.


    In the meantime, I decided to just consider everything I encountered here ¡®real¡¯ for the duration of the lesson. Otherwise, I was going to go mad just trying to find the proper tenses and ways of referring to myself.


    ¡°So,¡± I said, ¡°how do I begin?¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°Illusions are a branch of elemental Air magic that is frequently lumped in ¨C wrongly, in my opinion ¨C with Evocation, Neuromancy ¨C what most modern wizards call Mind Magic ¨C and Enchantment. It touches on all three but is very much a school of magic in its own right.


    ¡°Be that as it may,¡± he went on, ¡°Illusions are temporary magical constructs that are rather like the holographic projections in many Sci-Fi movies. Ideally, they give the appearance of being solid and tangible, though there may be instances where you don¡¯t want them to be. In the real world they¡¯ll only last for as long as you continue pumping energy into them, unless you anchor them to something, but that¡¯s another lesson altogether.¡±


    ¡°Can they be made solid enough to touch?¡± I asked curiously.


    ¡°No,¡± Ken replied slowly, ¡°and yes. They can be made to seem solid to people through the addition of a Neuromantic component...but that can tread pretty hard on mind control territory, which is a pretty firm no-no, at least as far as the ICOA is concerned. Also, the more people who witness an illusion that complex first-hand, the more likely it is to become obvious or exhaust the spellcaster. Just ask David Copperfield.¡±


    ¡°Pardon?¡±


    Ken smiled. ¡°Never mind. In your mental landscape, the process can be made permanent with a simple effort of will. It will effectively be storing the illusory construct in your brain for later use.¡± He paused for a moment, then shrugged a little. ¡°Mind you, this isn¡¯t something everyone can do. It requires a certain type of mind and memory.¡±


    ¡°Like mine,¡± I said.


    ¡°Like yours,¡± he agreed. ¡°However, it¡¯s something many spellcasters learn to do with varying degrees of success and effort.


    ¡°Now, casting an illusion is both simple and complex,¡± he continued. ¡°It¡¯s simple in that it requires little more preparation than envisioning the illusion you wish to create, gathering the energy for it, and sending it out into the world. It¡¯s complex because the more sophisticated and believable you want the illusion to be, the harder you need to work at supplying the necessary detail and energy. Just saying ¡®an illusion of a bicycle¡¯ isn¡¯t sufficient. You need to envision the wheels, and the treads on the wheels, the rims on the wheels, the spokes and brakes, and so on.¡±


    ¡°That sounds really complex,¡± I said.


    Ken nodded. ¡°Not many people can cast complex illusions effectively.¡±


    ¡°What happens if I don¡¯t concentrate on that level of detail?¡± I asked.


    ¡°You end up with a caricature of a bicycle,¡± Ken said with a smile. ¡°Something that looks kind of like a bicycle ¨C the general shape would be correct ¨C but which has none of the detail you¡¯d expect from a real one. It might be useful for illustrating a point you¡¯re trying to make, such as during a presentation, but it wouldn¡¯t fool anybody.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°That makes sense. I think I understand.¡±


    ¡°Very good,¡± he gestured. ¡°Let¡¯s have a wall, then.¡±


    A wall, I thought. All right. Envision a wall. ¡°What kind of wall?¡±


    ¡°Whatever strikes your fancy, Mistress,¡± Ken chuckled.


    I envisioned a hardwood wall. A nice, stained oak. I pictured the grain in my mind, the individual boards, the height and width of it. It started to remind me of the walls in my father¡¯s study, so I pictured those to help clarify the image, calling to mind how they looked with the bookshelves, the painting of my mother, the big old desk.


    As the wall took shape in my mind, I envisioned gathering the energy, remembering what it had felt like when I¡¯d finally succeeded in casting my first spell. I gathered that feeling into my hands, cupping them around the energy like I was shaping it into a ball, then spread my arms and cast the energy out into the world, maintaining the image I¡¯d built in my imagination.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Ken said in a startled tone, ¡°you can stop concentrating now...¡±


    I opened my eyes...and found that we were standing in my father¡¯s study. I blinked a few times in surprise. ¡°That¡¯s...not what I was trying to do.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Ken said with a smile, ¡°perhaps not. Walk me through the steps you took.¡±


    I explained to him carefully, step by step, what I had done, making sure to include every detail. When I finished, he chuckled. ¡°You were using your father¡¯s study as a template, and your mind has a distinct talent for holding detail, so that¡¯s what you created. Job well done. You¡¯re going to be superb at casting illusions.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­that¡¯s good, isn¡¯t it?¡± I wasn¡¯t sure.


    Ken smiled and nodded. ¡°It¡¯s very good. Of course, since illusions are considered elemental Air magic, I¡¯m not at all surprised that you¡¯re going to be good at it. It¡¯s also an excellent sign that your magical aptitude test was correct. To that end...¡± He gestured to the desk. ¡°Have a seat, and we¡¯ll begin tonight¡¯s studies.¡±


    ¡°What will we be studying tonight, Professor?¡± I asked teasingly as I sat down.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to continue studying the use of Air magic in Evocation, specifically the creation of lightning. I think studying the casting of lightning will help you learn to regulate the amount of energy you send out into the world with a spell.¡±


    I felt a frisson of unease at the idea of learning how to throw lightning bolts around but smothered it. In here, in my dreams ¨C I had to remind myself forcefully that this wasn¡¯t reality ¨C it was perfectly safe.


    Ken, meanwhile, had created an old-fashioned free-standing chalkboard out of thin air. ¡°Let¡¯s start with the basics. As you¡¯ll recall, magic tends to bend and twist the laws of physics into a pretzel. But at the end of the day, they¡¯re still grounded in the usual laws of mortal reality...at least, as they¡¯re currently understood. So, what do you know about what happens when lightning occurs naturally?¡±

 Chapter 15

    As I was drying myself off the next morning after stepping out of the shower - while watching Sparkle do a sort of tightrope walk along the top of the shower stall - I called out to Ken, ¡°What do you have on the agenda for this morning?¡±


    His voice returned to me from just outside the bathroom door, and I silently blessed him for being so considerate of my modesty. ¡°Well, assuming you feel quite back to normal after breakfast, I thought we¡¯d try to apply last night¡¯s lessons to real-world spellcasting. Illusions will be a bit much for you just yet, but - as I said last night - learning to throw lightning will help teach you to regulate how much energy you¡¯re putting into your spells.¡±


    I paused in drying myself off. Something inside me wanted to flee from the idea of doing something as violent as throwing lightning around. Another part of me was amused by how quickly I¡¯d absorbed and¡­well¡­metabolized, for lack of a better term, the general weirdness of learning to cast spells in the first place. After all, I¡¯d only managed to do it once so far, and it had almost made me pass out from exhaustion. But then, I am very flexible.


    What I am not, by nature, is a violent person. I¡¯ve always solved conflicts with words, never with my fists. Even my forays into athletics had been comparatively genteel¡­ballet when I was little, then gymnastics when the unbearably snotty and overly competitive attitudes of my fellow students had grated on my nerves once too often. After finding much the same problems there, gymnastics had morphed into fencing in college (the one great aberration, but which I''d enjoyed anyway), and finally completely non-competitive activities like jogging, Yoga, and Tai Chi, which kept me flexible and in excellent shape without having to deal with all of the aggressive personalities.


    The thought that I was now going to have to learn to be aggressive in order to protect my new home - and there was, I was curious to find, no longer even the faintest glimmer of a thought in my mind of leaving the House, Ken, and Sparkle - made my skin crawl. Intellectually, I understood that this was something I was going to have to accept if I intended to live this new life¡­but I was, perhaps, not handling all of the radical changes to my world quite as well as I appeared to be on the surface.


    As the old motivational joke about ducks says: I was calm and collected on the surface, but paddling like hell underneath, whether I admitted it or not. It was time to admit it to myself. I was becoming a little bit freaked out, even if I wasn¡¯t letting it show.


    I wrapped a towel around my hair, slipped into my robe, and opened the door to face Ken. ¡°Is there any chance we could put that off until the afternoon? Or maybe tomorrow?¡±


    He looked at my eyes closely. ¡°Perhaps¡­¡± he said carefully. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± I said carefully, ¡°it¡¯s been a few days since I got any exercise. I should really keep to my Yoga, Tai Chi and jogging routines.¡± I gave him a tentative smile. ¡°I must keep in shape, right?¡±


    Ken nodded agreeably. ¡°Indeed, that¡¯s an excellent idea. Yoga and Tai Chi both have traditional elements that deal with the movement of energy within your body, which will help with your spellcasting. And of course, a good level of fitness is wise regardless of other considerations. The House could undoubtedly provide you with a room-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d really like to do it outside,¡± I said quickly, cutting him off. ¡°You know, fresh air and all that.¡±


    He narrowed his gaze slightly, but said only, ¡°The grounds are lovely at all times of the year. You could jog the inside of the border wall, and exercise on the -¡±


    ¡°I was thinking,¡± cutting him off again and trying not to feel rude about it, ¡°about jogging into town. I¡¯d really love to see it, and it feels silly to drive a mile or two when the exercise would do me good.¡±


    Ken pursed his lips. ¡°I won¡¯t be able to go with you, Mistress¡­at least if you stayed within the wall, I¡¯d be able to see you from the House¡­¡±


    ¡°She wouldn¡¯t be alone,¡± Sparkle said, unexpectedly coming to my defense as she alighted on my shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll be with her. She¡¯ll be perfectly safe with me along,¡± she added with a dismissive flick of one tiny hand. ¡°You worry too much, spirit.¡±


    Ken¡¯s lips quirked as if he was trying not to smile at Sparkle¡¯s charming bravado. ¡°That¡¯s as may be,¡± he said, ¡°but Mistress Caley really shouldn¡¯t leave the grounds until she¡¯s learned some basic defensive spells.¡±


    Sparkle made a dismissive *pfft* sound that was quite adorable. ¡°For a short trip to Oakwood? What could possibly harm her there?¡±


    ¡°Anyway,¡± I said, ¡°won¡¯t it look very strange to the people in town if I lock myself in up here like a recluse?¡±


    Ken gazed at our united front for a long moment, then buckled. With a shake of his head, he said, ¡°I am going to have a terrible time saying ¡®no¡¯ to you about anything, Mistress. Yes, making connections with the town is an excellent - possibly vital - proposition. And Sparkle is right, there¡¯s really nothing there that could bring you harm.¡± He rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°I am reluctant, but¡­¡±


    ¡°I could really use the time to clear my head,¡± I said quietly, playing my trump card.


    Ken sighed. ¡°Very well. Will you take breakfast first?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°I want to get going while it¡¯s still early.¡± I hesitated, then smiled uncertainly. ¡°Will you still dry my hair first?¡±


    His smile returned without reservation. ¡°Any time you wish, Mistress.¡±


    With my hair quickly dried and plaited into one of Ken¡¯s impressively complex but still very comfortable braids, I dressed for exercise: black spandex leggings with a green stripe down the sides, a matching sleeveless top, a forest green sweatshirt with the Cambridge University seal on it (probably the only article of clothing I was putting on that I¡¯d actually brought with me), and the comfortable green trainers I¡¯d worn the day before.


    Ken walked us to the door, handed me a small backpack with a water bottle and my wallet in it - neither of which I¡¯d considered in my eagerness to get OUT for a little while - and stayed within as Sparkle and I went outside. I spent half an hour on the lawn across from the front door doing a combination of Yoga and Tai Chi to warm up and as a sort of apology to Ken for leaving him behind. I hoped that letting him see at least part of what I was doing would set his mind at ease.


    Sparkle valiantly tried to mimic my exercises, but spent more time giggling over her own inability to keep up than actually stretching. Did fairies need to exercise, I wondered? Considering the volume of food she¡¯d consumed the day before compared to her diminutive size, I had no idea how her body was burning the calories¡­or if it even was. She did spend an awful lot of time flying, but her wings were simply not proportionately large enough to her body to carry her weight. Which brought me back to magic.


    Which meant that she either had an insanely fast metabolism, or didn¡¯t actually need to eat. Fascinating.


    When I headed for the front gates, Sparkle shrank down and attached herself to the Master Key as she¡¯d demonstrated the other day. I unlocked the gate, let myself out, locked it up behind me, and set off towards town, making a mental note to find out what it would take - if it was even possible - to upgrade the gates to something that I could open and close with a remote control.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    It was still early enough that my first turn through town was largely uninterrupted, save for a few cats prowling their territories who watched me with wary curiosity, and a couple of dogs who barked at me from their yards.


    Oakwood very much lived up to the first impression I¡¯d gotten of it when I¡¯d driven through a few days earlier¡­it was a positively charming little town. I entered it on the main street that passed through the center of town and jogged along past the first few houses and shops. I spotted a library, a parish church, and a primary school among other public services, and found everything obviously well cared-for and well-loved.


    A gentle jog of a few miles wasn¡¯t that much of a strain for me. But by the time I looped around and was coming back up the main street, I was starting to feel thirsty and my stomach had begun to rumble, reminding me that I¡¯d skipped breakfast. So when my route put me on approach to the pub sign I¡¯d seen on my first pass up the main street, I slowed to a walk and took a better look at it.


    The pub¡¯s sign was a traditional wooden one, hanging from an iron fixture above the front door. It was inlaid with elegantly carved oak leaves and ivy vines, reminding me strongly of the decorative patterns I¡¯d seen around the House. The pub¡¯s name was, perhaps inevitably, ¡®The Oak & Ivy.¡±


    I found this strangely reassuring, so I paused for a minute and stretched my legs. Then, since the sign in the window was flipped to ¡®Open,¡¯ I tried the handle and found that indeed it was.


    It must have just opened for the day though, because as I entered I found the pub empty except for a man behind the bar. He set down the glass he was wiping as the bells above the door jingled.


    As he turned towards me, I guessed him to be in his late sixties, based on his thinning head of iron-colored hair and the smile lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes. He carried a few extra pounds around his middle, in the way many of the older pub owners I¡¯d met did, and had a friendly, open face, with a cheerful smile.


    ¡°Good morn-¡± He stopped mid-word and stared at me for a long moment, his eyes widening in obvious shock as some of the color drained from his face. Then he blinked and laughed, wiping a hand across his face. ¡°Good God, but you gave me a start, Miss! For a moment there, I thought Chessie had returned from the dead to pay me a visit! You must be little Caley¡­there¡¯s nobody else you could be, you look so much like your mother. Why, I haven¡¯t seen you since you were a little baby! Come in, do come in!¡±


    I closed the door and walked to the bar, feeling the heat of embarrassment in my cheeks. ¡°The resemblance is rather shocking. It threw me at first too, so don¡¯t feel bad.¡±


    He smiled warmly. ¡°I don¡¯t doubt it, Miss! But James said you¡¯d be coming home at last, right before he died, so it¡¯s not as much of a shock to me as it might¡¯ve been to you.¡± His smile faded into sadness. ¡°The whole town mourned your father¡¯s passing, dear girl. You have my sincerest condolences, and you are most heartily welcomed!¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I replied softly, a bit surprised to hear how my father¡¯s death had affected the town. But at the same time, it subtly reassured me that I would indeed find a warm welcome here. That I already was, in fact. ¡°I¡¯m just sorry I never had the chance to know him, mister¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh dear, where are my manners?¡± He beamed at me and offered his hand. ¡°Malcolm O¡¯Day, at your service, Miss.¡± I shook his hand warmly, then he gestured to the tall chairs lining the bar. ¡°Sit yourself down, Miss. You look like you¡¯re in search of a drink and some breakfast. Been out jogging, have you? Judy, my wife, will have hot scones fresh from the oven shortly, and I¡¯ve got a pot of water on for tea. If you¡¯d like, I¡¯m sure my wife could do up a couple of eggs for you.¡±


    I smiled at the barrage of questions and comments and perched on one of the very comfortable chairs, immediately preferring them to the stools one usually found at bars. ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve been out jogging. A cup of tea, a couple of scrambled eggs, and a hot scone sound like they¡¯d hit the spot perfectly, thank you very much.¡±


    I felt Sparkle squirm against my breastbone and regretted not being able to get her something too. Malcolm must have noticed something in my expression, because he glanced around at the empty bar pointedly and said, ¡°If you¡¯ve your mother¡¯s little friend with you, she¡¯s safe to come out and have a bite too. It¡¯s not likely we¡¯ll get any other business before eleven, and I recall that the little one was a bottomless pit.¡±


    Sparkle immediately detached from the Master Key and was standing on the bar a moment later, beaming up at him. ¡°Hello, Mr. Barkeep sir!¡±


    He beamed down at her. ¡°And hello to you too, Miss Sparkle. Would you care for one of my wife¡¯s scones as well?¡±


    She bounced happily. ¡°Yessir, please sir!¡±


    ¡°Such fine manners,¡± he said approvingly, then called back through a nearby half-door, ¡°Judy dear, two scones and a couple of scrambled eggs, please! We have special guests.¡±


    A pleasantly plump, rather grandmotherly-looking face appeared in the doorway. She blinked in surprise, then put a hand to her chest and came through. ¡°Oh my dear girl, you¡¯ve come home at last!¡± She took my hands and leaned forward to kiss my cheeks. ¡°Welcome home! It¡¯s so good to see you!¡± She bent down a little to address Sparkle. ¡°And you as well, you pretty little thing.¡± She headed back towards the kitchen before I could say a word. ¡°You wait right there, and I¡¯ll have your breakfast out in just a minute or three.¡±


    And she was gone.


    Malcolm laughed at the dazed look on my face. ¡°She¡¯s like that, my Judy. Always on the move. So, you finally came to see the town, hm?¡±


    I nodded and smoothed my hair. ¡°Yes. I needed to stretch my legs, and I really wanted to have a look around.¡±


    ¡°And high time too,¡± he replied jovially as he poured a cup of tea for me. Loose leaf, I noticed with approval. ¡°Let me tell you, when we saw lights on up at the house again, the town nearly declared a holiday! Oakwood hasn¡¯t felt the same since your father died.¡± He slid the cup across to me. ¡°Milk? Sugar?¡±


    I smiled. ¡°Just sugar, please. My father was well known in town, then?¡±


    ¡°Oh yes, Miss,¡± Malcolm said, passing me a small pot of raw sugar and a spoon. ¡°Until a couple of months before he died, your father was seen about town regularly. In fact, if you come back to the pub on Thursday night, you¡¯ll meet a group of men who he joined each week for a few drinks and a game of darts.¡± A quick grin flashed across his face. ¡°They¡¯re a bit rough around the edges, but good blokes all¡­older men, who take no guff from anyone anymore. If you¡¯re anything like your mother, they¡¯ll take a shine to you quickly enough.¡±


    I felt my cheeks heating up again. ¡°I¡¯m not really sure which of my parents I¡¯m like just yet, but I¡¯m a bit of a bookworm I¡¯m afraid.¡±


    He laughed again. ¡°That¡¯s no bad thing either.¡± He leaned on the bar and examined me closely as I sipped my tea. ¡°You look so much like her, but you¡¯ve your grandmother¡¯s eyes. She had eyes like that too¡­one green, one blue.¡±


    ¡°You knew my grandmother?¡± I asked curiously, eager to learn more about the family I¡¯d never known.


    Malcolm smiled warmly. ¡°Miss, since I¡¯ve met you I can now happily say I¡¯ve known and enjoyed the friendship of three generations of your family. At least,¡± he added teasingly, ¡°I hope you¡¯ll be friendly.¡±


    That made me laugh, and I could feel something inside me relaxing and warming. ¡°I hope so too,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s been a real eye-opener moving into the House, never having known who my parents even were until recently. You can¡¯t imagine how glad I am to find a warm reception here in town.¡±


    He patted one of my hands gently. ¡°Poor thing. Well, we all knew and loved your parents, and your mother¡¯s parents before them. I¡¯m sure all of the older residents will have stories to tell you about them, time permitting.¡± He winked. ¡°And that¡¯s another good reason to visit my pub on a regular basis. You¡¯ll get to meet everyone, eventually.¡± He raised his voice a little. ¡°And, if I may say so, my wife¡¯s cooking is not to be missed.¡±


    Judy¡¯s voice drifted out of the kitchen, sounding both amused and teasingly severe. ¡°It¡¯s far too late for you to think that buttering me up like a slice of bread will do you any good, Malcolm O¡¯Day.¡±


    I shared a grin with him, and it felt wonderful. ¡°I¡¯ll make a point to come visit,¡± I said, touched by their simple acceptance and welcome.


    ¡°Good.¡± Malcolm smiled gently. ¡°I can safely say that you¡¯ll find you have family here still, if not your parents. This is a tightly knit community¡­quite a few people in town are related to your mother.¡± He patted his chest. ¡°Why, I myself am related by marriage, three or four generations back. I believe you¡¯ll even find some blood relations in town, however distantly removed. We pride ourselves on our connections to your family, by blood or friendship.¡±


    I realized my vision was getting a bit blurry and wiped tears from my eyes before they could fall.


    He smiled and patted my hand again where it lay on the bar. ¡°Welcome home, Miss Caley. You drink your tea, and my Judy will be out with your breakfast in a moment.¡± Then he left me alone with my thoughts for a few minutes.


    I finally understood why people said that the world is blessed by the presence of good bartenders.


    By the time I was halfway through the cup of tea - and back in control of my emotions - Judy was bustling out of the kitchen with two plates. ¡°Here you are, Miss! A scone for little Sparkle, and a scone and eggs for little Caley.¡± She winked and put the plates down in front of us. ¡°I¡¯d stay and natter on all day, but you probably want to eat and get home right now, and I have the lunchtime stew to tend to, so be certain to come by for a chat when you have the time.¡±


    I smiled at her. ¡°I will! Thank you very much.¡±


    She patted my cheek gently, rather like I¡¯d always thought grandmothers might, then vanished back into the kitchen as Sparkle dove onto and tore into her scone like a ravenous little shark.

 Chapter 16

    Even though the scone was easily three or four times her total mass, Sparkle put the whole thing away before I was halfway through my eggs. She collapsed on the plate with a happy giggle and stared up at the ceiling, resting her hands on her belly. Which, I noted with curiosity, wasn¡¯t the least bit distended. Aside from a few crumbs on and about her, she showed no physical sign of having eaten anything at all.


    Fascinating.


    As I pushed my plate away a few minutes later - eggs and scone had both been delicious, and I was feeling better in general - Malcolm approached. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said with all the sincere warmth I could muster, ¡°for everything.¡± Sparkle finally fluttered up off her plate and reattached herself to the Master key.


    Malcolm waved off my thanks with an airy gesture and collected our dishes. ¡°Nothing doing. You¡¯re a member of this community, even if you don¡¯t really know it yet, and we take care of our own.¡± He returned and leaned down, resting one elbow on the bar and lowering his voice conspiratorially. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind my asking, Miss Caley¡­do you have the same talents your parents had?¡±


    I blinked at him. ¡°You mean¡­¡± I didn¡¯t quite want to say it out loud.


    He smiled and nodded. ¡°Magic, aye. The Art, your mother liked to call it.¡± He tapped his chest. ¡°I¡¯ve a bit of talent that way myself, actually, but mostly hedge magic. Little things, you know? Simple cleaning and healing spells, a few herbal remedies and potions, that sort of thing. Nothing like what your parents could do.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but look surprised. ¡°Really? Well¡­yes, I guess I do, but I¡¯ve only just started learning about it.¡±


    I thought the smile on Malcolm¡¯s face then looked a little relieved. ¡°Very good. Quite a few people in Oakwood have a bit of magical talent, but only about as much as I have. One or two a bit more, most a bit less.¡± His smile faded. ¡°But those of us in the know have been worried. Since your father died, some strange folk have passed through town. Don¡¯t know what they wanted, but the one who stopped here asked questions about the manor house. Wanted to know if anyone had taken up residence there yet.¡±


    I must have looked as nervous as his words made me, because he smiled and gently padded my hand where it lay on the bar. ¡°Never you fear, miss. I told him nothing that¡¯d be of any use to anyone, just sent him on his way.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I replied softly. ¡°My father left me notes that referred to some nebulous threats that might be lurking out there¡­¡± I trailed off and smiled wryly at the sepulchral tone my voice had unconsciously taken on, and how pretentious the words sounded.


    To my surprise, Malcolm didn¡¯t look amused. He didn¡¯t look surprised, either.


    ¡°You mind that warning, miss,¡± he said gravely. ¡°It was a public secret that your father had been seen driving off some scary-looking things during the last months before his death. Not often, not regularly, but¡­people saw things. We always have here in Oakwood, as far back as the town¡¯s memory goes.¡±


    I shivered a little. ¡°I guess it¡¯s a good thing I¡¯m a quick study.¡±


    Malcolm nodded gravely. ¡°Oakwood Hall needs its Guardian, miss. So we¡¯ve been taught for generations. And in my opinion, the town does too. I, for one, am very glad you¡¯re here. I think you¡¯ll find many others will be too.¡± His smile returned. ¡°You¡¯re going to be a local celebrity.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure how to feel about that,¡± I replied honestly. Oakwood Hall, though¡­that struck a chord in me. It felt better than ''House'' somehow.


    He laughed softly and nodded. ¡°Aye, I get that, and I don¡¯t blame you. I¡¯m not sure how I¡¯d feel about it in your place. Just¡­try not to let it overwhelm you. Any time you feel like it is, you come down here and have a drink or two with the lads. They¡¯ll make sure you¡¯re well grounded.¡± He winked.


    I smiled a little. ¡°I don¡¯t really drink much, but I¡¯ll come anyway.¡±


    ¡°Nobody here will so much as blink if you order tea instead of a beer,¡± he replied with absolute confidence.


    I giggled. ¡°Or a glass of milk, like those parodies of American Westerns?¡±


    Malcolm laughed. ¡°You come by on Thursday and try it, and you¡¯ll see.¡±


    ¡°I will,¡± I said firmly. As had happened in the House, I felt a sudden sense of belonging that shook me a little. In my mind, Oakwood was rapidly becoming associated with ¡®home¡¯ as surely as the House itself.


    After another moment I rose and dug out my wallet. ¡°What do I owe you for breakfast?¡±


    Malcolm smiled. ¡°On the house, just this once, because I got to be the one to welcome you to town.¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t -¡±


    ¡°You can,¡± he said firmly. ¡°My pub, my rules. This morning, you eat free.¡±


    I hesitated a moment, then smiled and nodded. ¡°All right. But only if you let me buy a round for everybody on Thursday.¡± I made a mental note to quietly find out if there were any organizations in town that could use donations, or even individuals who might benefit from an anonymous bit of help. That was something I could do with part of that ridiculous pile of money I was sitting on now and feel good about it.


    Malcolm blinked, then laughed. ¡°You won¡¯t need to buy their friendship, but I won¡¯t stop you either. It¡¯ll be fun just to see their reactions.¡±


    I left the Oak & Ivy on a wave of warm farewells from Malcolm and Judy, and started up the street. As I headed for home - walking now instead of jogging, having just eaten - a curious routine of sorts took shape. I would find myself approaching one of the town¡¯s older residents, who would stop in their tracks and do a double-take, or go slack-jawed for a moment. Then recognition and delight would flash across their faces, and they would hail me by name, calling me Caitlyn or Miss Reid, and welcoming me home.


    The first two or three times it happened, I found it startling and a little unsettling. But as I stopped to talk to them, found out how they¡¯d known my parents - one or both - and began to adjust to the idea that people here were simply going to recognize me, I started to relax a little again. By the fourth time it happened, it gave me a warm feeling that I couldn¡¯t quite identify instead of an uneasy one.


    One older woman - about Malcolm¡¯s age, I guessed - actually hugged me tightly before identifying herself. She had dark hair streaked with gray and bright brown eyes that met mine with warmth and obvious affection.


    ¡°Not so little anymore,¡± she said with a laugh after calling me ¡®little Caitlyn.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯m Laurie, the town librarian. I used to babysit your mother when she was a little girl, and was a friend of your father¡¯s until his untimely demise. I won¡¯t hold you up while you¡¯re exercising, but you come by the library and see me sometime, and I''ll tell you tall tales. It¡¯s open most mornings and every afternoon, except Sundays.¡±


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    She moved on before I could say anything more than a surprised, ¡°I will, I promise!¡±


    The people who stopped me along the way had known my father well, or had grown up with my mother. A few identified themselves as being distantly related to my mother¡¯s side of the family in a variety of amusingly convoluted ways. But one thing remained the same with each meeting: they were all happy and relieved to see me. In a few cases, the relief in particular was almost tangible.


    Some of the middle-aged residents I met - ones I guessed were about the age my parents would have been - recognized me after a moment as well. They were mostly content to smile and nod politely, or give me a cheerful wave and a happy ¡°Welcome home, Miss Reid,¡± in passing.


    It was the reactions of the younger people - my age or younger - that really threw me. Every single one of them, after realizing who I was, watched me with something like awe as I went by. It looked like Malcolm was right¡­I was going to be something of a local celebrity.


    By the time I reached the edge of town and really started the hike back to the House, I found I was actually looking forward to getting home, and back to Ken. I wasn¡¯t tired, really¡­after breakfast at the Oak & Ivy I was rested enough that - had I not had a full stomach - I could have jogged a few more miles. But I felt emotionally drained, and not in an unpleasant way. I had found myself in a town full of people who had been happy to see me; happy to know that I was there.


    It was a delightful feeling.


    Only one moment marred that first real visit to Oakwood. As I was walking contentedly up the road towards home, feeling eager to tell Ken all about my warm reception, a car approached me on the road, heading towards town. Ordinarily, I wouldn¡¯t have paid it any mind, I would have just stepped off onto the verge and kept walking. But this was a car. Even with my limited knowledge of automobiles, I knew it was something special.


    It was a big, old black thing¡­a Bentley of some sort, spotlessly clean and trimmed with gleaming chrome. I actually stopped to watch it go by, it was so impressive. This car had definitely been made in a different age. It was practically art.


    It cruised gracefully past me, giving me time to look through the windows, and for a moment I met the driver¡¯s eyes. I only got a quick look at him, but I got a strong impression of thick eyebrows drawn down in concentration and dark, coldly glittering eyes. Short, dark, slicked-back hair framed the face, the sideburns longer than was fashionable, and he had thick lips framed by a neatly trimmed beard.


    The man¡¯s eyes tracked me for a moment, intense and obviously curious.


    Then the car was past me and heading into town. I followed it with my eyes long enough to see it slowly disappear from sight among the buildings. I shivered a little, though there was only the faintest hint of winter chill in the air. For no reason I could put my finger on, the brief encounter left me feeling unsettled.


    Malcolm O¡¯Day¡¯s comment about ¡®strange folk¡¯ being seen in the town flitted through my mind. Then I snorted a derisive little laugh and started toward home again. I was not going to let my imagination run away with me when there were so many amazing new things - apparently real things - to see and learn.


    I had put the brief encounter out of my mind by the time I reached the House¡¯s front gates and unlocked them to let myself in. As soon as I was inside the gates and had them locked behind me, Sparkle detached herself from my key and resumed her natural size and coloring. She flitted along beside me as I headed up the drive, leaving a short, barely visible purple streak in her wake that faded quickly.


    After waving to Ken, who had opened the door as I approached and was hovering just inside - literally and metaphorically - I stayed outside for a few minutes, settling on the grass to do some stretches as a cool-down from the walk back. Ken left the door open and disappeared, returning as I approached with Sparkle now perched on my shoulder.


    He gave me a smile that was both warm and - I thought - relieved. ¡°Did you enjoy your jog, Mistress?¡± He asked curiously. ¡°You were gone longer than I expected.¡±


    ¡°It was wonderful,¡± I said with a smile, taking the water bottle he offered and handing him the backpack he¡¯d given me when I left. ¡°Thank you. I can see I¡¯m going to love this town. It¡¯s absolutely charming, and everyone was so friendly and happy to see me.¡±


    Ken nodded, still smiling warmly. ¡°I had a feeling they might be. I¡¯m glad you had such a warm reception, Mistress. Are you ready for breakfast now?¡±


    I sipped some of the water. ¡°I ate at the Oak & Ivy pub in town. I even have an invitation from Malcolm O¡¯Day to go back on Thursday night.¡±


    Ken laughed quietly. ¡°He told you how your father went to throw darts and have a few drinks, I take it.¡±


    ¡°Oh yes,¡± I said, ¡°and a few other things besides. If I¡¯m not completely exhausted tomorrow night, I think I¡¯ll go. It would be very nice to meet more people who knew my parents and¡­¡± I trailed off, uncertain of how to voice the emotion that was running through my mind.


    Ken, as always, seemed to understand instinctively. ¡°It would be nice to put down some roots in the community, yes?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Precisely so. I¡¯ve never really belonged to a community before. It¡­¡± I hesitated, then finished rather lamely, ¡°It sounds nice.¡±


    Ken chuckled softly. ¡°You are discovering that you¡¯re a social creature after all. Perhaps you¡¯re more like your mother than you think.¡±


    That startled me, and caused my hand to rise unconsciously to touch the platinum band around my throat. ¡°Really? But¡­from what I¡¯ve seen and heard so far, she sounds so¡­so¡­¡±


    ¡°Outrageous?¡± Ken asked, smiling.


    I nodded.


    ¡°She was,¡± he said fondly. ¡°But that was who she was on the surface and in public, and it was - at least in part, I think - a response to how staid your father was. Beneath the bright colors and good cheer, she was never entirely sure of her place in the world. At least,¡± he added quickly, ¡°that was my impression.¡±


    ¡°You haven¡¯t been wrong yet,¡± I said. I considered my own largely repressed personality for a moment, then shook my head. ¡°I should take another shower¡­¡±


    ¡°Before you do,¡± Ken said, ¡°I think you should get some spellcasting practice in. I¡¯ve revised my plans a bit¡­we¡¯ll work on your wind spell for a few days before shifting to lightning. Economy of energy can come later, after you¡¯ve worked on your aim a bit.¡± He winked. ¡°Poorly aimed lightning would be¡­bad.¡±


    ¡°Yes, definitely,¡± I agreed heartily, relieved that my next attempt at spellcasting wouldn¡¯t be something violent. I just wasn¡¯t ready for that yet.


    ¡°And then after lunch,¡± Ken said, ¡°I thought we could start working on your first staff.¡±


    For some reason, that sent a frisson of excitement through me, and appealed to me deeply. Why did that project excite me so much?


    ¡°Because it¡¯s a tangible act of creation,¡± I said quietly to myself. ¡°Lasting proof that magic is real, and that I can really do it.¡±


    Ken tipped his head a little, his expression curious. ¡°Do you have reason at this point to think magic isn¡¯t real?¡± he asked, rather teasingly.


    My cheeks heated up. I hadn¡¯t even realized I was thinking out loud. ¡°No, of course not, but¡­¡±


    He smiled and nodded. ¡°It¡¯s all right. Every wizard gets excited about making their first staff. It¡¯s a milestone, of a sort, and you¡¯re right¡­it is proof that you¡¯re capable of molding and manipulating the energies needed to produce a functional staff. It¡¯s a big deal, and we probably won¡¯t get to that part of it for a couple of weeks.¡±


    ¡°Weeks?¡± I asked, my excitement dimming a bit. But then, nothing ever worth doing was easy.


    ¡°Weeks,¡± Ken agreed with a smile. ¡°It¡¯s not just picking a length of wood and starting to use it. The length of wood in question - or whatever material you end up using - must resonate with you in specific ways. Then it needs to be prepared to contain and channel the energy you¡¯ll be using it to work with, which involves a certain amount of carving, and perhaps the embedding of other materials in it, as well as meditation and other mental preparations.


    ¡°A magical focus,¡± he went on, quickly slipping into a tone of voice I was already coming to associate with his lecturing mode, ¡°is more than a physical construct. A properly made focus becomes a part of you, for lack of a better way to explain it. Most spellcasters can never use another¡¯s foci for precisely that reason.¡±


    Ken¡¯s tone softened a little. ¡°Honestly, I wouldn¡¯t even be surprised if you need to start over two or three times before you get it right. Your father usually took two attempts to make a new focus, and your mother¡­¡± He trailed off and laughed. ¡°As I recall, it took your mother five tries to make her first staff.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± I said, not entirely sure that I did, but fully prepared to take his word for it. ¡°Well, if it took Mom five tries, then I have a goal to beat.¡±


    Ken grinned. ¡°Indeed, Mistress.¡±


    ¡°All right, then,¡± I said, feeling ready to dive back into this new world in a way that I hadn¡¯t when I¡¯d woken up that morning. ¡°Let¡¯s go assault a pinwheel.¡±


    Sparkle cheered from my shoulder.


    Ken beamed. ¡°That¡¯s the spirit!¡±


    I glared at him.


    He coughed. ¡°Ah¡­no pun intended. Sorry.¡±

 Chapter 17

    As we left the foyer, I found that I somehow knew that the laboratory¡­


    ¡°Ken,¡± I said, ¡°from now on, I want to call the laboratory the ¡®workshop¡¯ instead.¡±


    Ken blinked in surprise. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because it sounds more scholarly and productive, and less like something you¡¯d find in a mad scientist movie,¡± I said.


    Sparkle, still perched on my shoulder, giggled.


    ¡°But¡­¡± Ken said. ¡°But¡­Laboratory!¡±


    I eyed him. ¡°The way you¡¯re pronouncing every syllable, as if you expect it to be full of Tesla Coils, giant toggle switches, and a half-built monster, makes me all the more eager to change what we call it.¡±


    Ken sighed and, in a really very good impression of Peter Lorre, said ¡°Yes, Mistress.¡±


    I giggled. ¡°Thank you, Ken.¡±


    ¡­that the workshop was now two floors down from where we were. ¡°So, explain this to me again¡­why is it that two days ago, rooms that I wanted were practically handed to me as soon as I opened a door, but now they¡¯re at least a short walk away?¡±


    Sparkle spoke up, surprising me a little. ¡°The House was showing off for you, Mistress. You like walking around in it, don¡¯t you?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Definitely. I¡¯ve practically fallen head over heels in love with this house. I want to see all of it that there is to see.¡±


    Ken smiled. ¡°That¡¯s why it¡¯s not giving you shortcuts at the moment. As Sparkle said, it was showing you what it could do¡­now it¡¯s showing you what it is, most likely because you¡¯re enjoying the interior of the House. I suspect that when you need to reach a room urgently, you will find it precisely where you need it to be: immediately at hand.¡±


    I considered that as we started down a spiral staircase that I¡¯d never seen before, its railings carved with beautifully ornate abstract designs. ¡°Strangely enough,¡± I said finally, ¡°that makes a lot of sense to me. Either I¡¯m cracking up, or I¡¯m starting to adjust.¡±


    ¡°Or both!¡± Sparkle added helpfully.


    ¡°Or both,¡± I agreed.


    I ran my fingers over the railing, feeling the elegant carvings. ¡°You know,¡± I said as we reached the bottom and set off down another hallway, ¡°it sounds to me like the house is more aware than you give it credit for.¡±


    Ken shrugged as he drifted along beside me. ¡°It¡¯s not a simple thing, Mistress, since the residents of the House seem - at least to me - to have an impact on its level of awareness and behavior.¡±


    Sparkle made a sound of agreement. ¡°I remember how the House closed in around Mistress Chessie after her parents died, like it was helping to protect her. It was so still and silent, except wherever she was.¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°And how it came to life again, like a flower blooming, after she met your father.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± I replied, even though that hadn¡¯t really cleared anything up for me. I felt a surge of smug, amused satisfaction that definitely wasn¡¯t my own, and reached out to caress the wall lightly. ¡°And you like it that way, huh?¡±


    Ken looked at me. ¡°Pardon?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Never mind.¡± If the House liked being mysterious and confusing, I could live with that.


    Ken eyed me for a moment longer, then shook his head a little. ¡°I¡¯m inclined to suggest you not allow the question to linger in your mind too much. At the end of the day, you may be certain of three things and trust them unconditionally. One of those things is that the House is your guardian as much as you are its.¡±


    The idea that the house cared about me and would protect me brought with it a surprisingly strong wave of warmth and security. Again, I quickly realized that the emotion wasn¡¯t my own. That it came from outside of me, and was being shown to me somehow.


    This, then, was how the House communicated when it wanted to.


    Intellectually, I knew that the idea that the House could simply project emotions into my mind should make my skin crawl. Instead, I found myself smiling and relaxing at the thought, my hand resting on the wall gently. After a moment, the emotions faded, and I was a little sorry when they did.


    Ken was watching me with a strange look on his face from a few steps away, and it took me another moment to realize that I¡¯d stopped walking without warning. I felt my cheeks heat up and cleared my throat. ¡°I believe the house just let me know that it likes me, and that it likes being mysteriously weird.¡±


    Sparkle giggled. ¡°Yeah, Mistress Chessie used to get that impression sometimes too.¡±


    ¡°Your mother,¡± Ken said slowly, ¡°once told me that the House sometimes communicated with her through strong emotions. Was it something like that?¡¯


    ¡°Exactly like that,¡± I confirmed with a nod.


    ¡°Good,¡± Ken said firmly.


    ¡°Good?¡±


    ¡°Very good, actually,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s another sign that the House has accepted you as its Guardian.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± That thought was as strangely reassuring as the warmth and security I¡¯d felt from the House. I started walking again. ¡°So, what¡¯re the other two things?¡±


    Ken smiled. ¡°That you may rely on my loyalty absolutely, and that every day will bring new surprises.¡±


    We reached the workshop door and Ken smiled. ¡°Now, come on, it¡¯s time to make the pinwheel spin again.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to almost pass out this time,¡± I asked as I opened the door, ¡°am I?¡±


    ¡°Unlikely,¡± Ken shook his head. ¡°Though spellcasting can be draining, especially casting several spells in quick succession, you should find yourself building up stamina quickly and recovering faster with every session. As with any muscle, it grows stronger with use.¡±


    ¡°That makes sense,¡± I said, closing the door behind us as Sparkle flitted over to perch atop a bookcase. ¡°So¡­¡±


    Ken pointed to where the pinwheel was still attached to the workbench from yesterday. ¡°Your target, Mistress. Yesterday, you managed to ruffle papers near it. You know it¡¯s possible to cast a spell, and you have a better idea of how to gather the energy to do so. Today we¡¯re going to concentrate on focus, precision, and economy of energy.¡±


    ¡°When I was visualizing the spell yesterday,¡± I said thoughtfully, ¡°I was trying to imagine what the breeze would feel like to me. When I cast the spell¡­that feels so strange to say¡­when I cast the spell, I felt the breeze run over my body and down my arm before gusting out away from my hand.¡±


    Ken smiled and nodded encouragingly. ¡°Which means?¡±


    ¡°Which means I wasn¡¯t visualizing my intended spell effect properly.¡±


    He beamed. ¡°Correct. And so?¡±


    ¡°So I need to change the way I visualize the spell,¡± I said.


    ¡°Excellent.¡± He gestured. ¡°But first, let¡¯s talk about how much energy you were pushing into the spell.¡±


    ¡°Economy of energy,¡± I said, perching on the stool beside the bench.


    Ken nodded. ¡°Yes. When you cast the spell yesterday, there was a visual manifestation before you released it¡­that is, I could see the energy as you were gathering it, which means you were pushing in too much for such a small spell. And since you don¡¯t know how to draw energy from the environment yet, that means it all came from you, which is one of the reasons you were so exhausted after casting it. Your body simply wasn¡¯t prepared to manage the amount of energy you used up.¡±


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°So if I give the spell just the energy it needs¡­or somehow pull that energy from around me instead of from inside me¡­it¡¯s both less wasteful and less taxing on me?¡±


    Ken considered his answer carefully for a moment. ¡°That¡¯s essentially correct. It¡¯s a bit more complicated than that, but you have the right idea. Now, call to mind what you did yesterday when you successfully cast the spell.¡±


    I did so instantly and with perfect recall of both the sensory experience and my understanding of what I¡¯d done. Being eidetic sounds like a spectacularly awesome talent to anyone who doesn¡¯t have it...and while I won¡¯t deny that having a nearly 100% accurate memory with almost instantaneous recall is extremely useful, it has its downsides. For every scrap of useful information that I can dredge up at the right moment, or every moment of happiness I can relive, my mind can ¨C and will ¨C just as quickly provide useless and unpleasant memories with the same crystal clarity when triggered.


    So yes, I appreciate how useful a talent it is...but it can be distracting and difficult to manage at times.


    I nodded a little. ¡°I have it.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Ken said. ¡°Stand at the end of the bench like before and visualize the spell. This time, only gather as much energy as you need to make a gentle breeze, and make sure you adjust the visualization as you mentioned earlier.¡±


    I rose from my stool and walked to the end of the bench, then glared down the length of it at the multi-colored pinwheel trapped in the vice at the far end. I was going to make it spin today, no matter what.


    Ken smirked. ¡°Glaring at it won¡¯t make it spin, Mistress. Though I suppose that intimidating it might help.¡±


    Sparkle giggled.


    My cheeks warmed up a little, and I spent a moment examining my state of mind. I was surprised to find that I was a bit offended by the pinwheel. I was long used to being able to do things on the first try. Not because I was naturally good at everything ¨C or anything, really, other than learning ¨C but because I usually read everything I could on a subject and preferably observed others doing it before trying it myself.


    So here I was, failing not once or twice but repeatedly for hours before finally succeeding. Had I become arrogant about my own ability to master new skills? Probably. That might be holding me up...my study of magic had, so far, turned that on its head. With magic, it seemed that the more I learned, the less I actually knew.


    I said as much to Ken.


    He seemed amused by the observation. ¡°That¡¯s substantially true, Mistress. Your mother used to say that magic was the greatest mystery in the universe. Every time she thought she had some aspect of it figured out, some new piece of information would turn up, or something about it would change subtly, forcing her to reassess her conclusion.¡± He sighed softly. ¡°It was one of the things she loved most about studying magic.¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I said, just a bit sheepishly. ¡°I¡¯m very used to being able to quantify and prepare for a task so thoroughly that when it comes time to do it, I simply can.¡± I sighed a little. ¡°Magic is...it almost seems to be actively dodging that.¡¯


    Ken smiled sympathetically. ¡°It will.¡±


    ¡°That makes it sound like magic is alive,¡± I said curiously.


    Ken pursed his lips and considered his reply for a minute. ¡°In a very real way, it is.¡±


    ¡°But I thought magic was just energy...¡± I trailed off, confused.


    Ken smiled a little. ¡°It is energy, but it¡¯s more than that at the same time. Magic can ¨C and will ¨C react in unexpected ways if you don¡¯t pay close enough attention when constructing a spell, or if you¡¯re casting under extreme duress. That¡¯s one of the reasons why it¡¯s so important to learn to do this properly.¡±


    He sighed. ¡°It¡¯s an imperfect explanation. It¡¯s hard to be clearer since nobody has ever completely understood magic.¡± He hesitated for a moment, then added, ¡°At least, nobody who¡¯s been sane enough to provide a lucid and clear explanation.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow, but quickly decided not to ask. I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to know.


    ¡°Be that as it may,¡± Ken said, ¡°I suppose you could say that magic is alive the same way the House is, only in a more nebulous and less directed way. The House has a consciousness of a sort and seems to be sentient. Magic, on the other hand, is alive without seeming to be sentient or having consciousness. It simply is, and sometimes reacts when drawn upon.¡±


    ¡°In what ways?¡± I asked. The idea was fascinating...that magic might be a living thing that could react changed the whole face of spellcasting.


    Ken frowned a little. ¡°It¡¯s not that simple.¡± He paced back and forth for a moment, then asked, ¡°Have you ever played Dungeons & Dragons?¡±


    I blinked as my brain shifted gears to keep up with him. ¡°A few times when I was an undergrad.¡±


    ¡°Did you ever run across the rules for Wild Magic, or for a Wand of Wonder?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Sure. The group I played with hated both with a passion because they were so completely random. The guy running the game had pages of random-generation charts for both...roll for a result of 1 ¨C 100 and see what happens.¡±


    ¡°Precisely,¡± Ken said with a nod.


    I tipped my head a little, then it clicked. ¡°Oh, okay. You can¡¯t explain it because you don¡¯t actually know what might happen.¡±


    He spread his hands in a helpless sort of ¡®there you go¡¯ gesture. ¡°I¡¯ve seen miscast spells do anything from creating a bouquet of roses out of thin air, to disintegrating three square feet of brick wall.¡±


    ¡°Disintegration? Really?¡± I asked. ¡°What happened to conservation of mass and energy?¡±


    ¡°If you can create something by pulling together matter from around you,¡± Ken replied very seriously, ¡°you can reverse the process. It takes a lot more energy, because it means tearing an item down to its constituent elements...but it can be done.¡±


    Something in my stomach did a few flips and dropped a little. ¡°That¡¯s...kind of a scary thought.¡±


    Ken smiled lopsidedly. ¡°Magic can be scary, Mistress. But far more often, it is wondrous and amazing.¡±


    Sparkle zipped off the top of the bookcase where she¡¯d been perched and zoomed in circles around my head for a moment before fluttering right in front of my face. ¡°Mistress, you¡¯re going to have to learn how to defend yourself. Why, even little pixies like me know how to defend ourselves.¡±


    I smiled at her. ¡°Intellectually, I understand that. I¡¯m still coming to grips with it though.¡±


    She looked bewildered. ¡°Oh. Okay.¡± She shot away again, taking a lap around the room before perching on some books nearby again. ¡°So, defend!¡±


    I laughed. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±


    Ken chuckled. ¡°We¡¯ll work on defense later. For now, let¡¯s focus on creating that gust of wind. Ready?¡±


    ¡°As I¡¯ll ever be,¡± I said.


    Ken lifted an eyebrow.


    I considered what he¡¯d said about the nature of magic, took a deep breath and nodded firmly. ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s better. Now, just like I taught you. Visualize the effect you want to create, gather the energy you need, package and cast it. And remember, only gather the energy you think you¡¯re going to need for this...it¡¯s a small spell, so it won¡¯t take much.¡±


    ¡°You said something about gathering energy from the environment somehow?¡± I asked, visualizing a gentle gust of wind making the pinwheel spin slowly.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Ken said quietly, ¡°but I¡¯ll teach you about that later. It¡¯s not a technique for beginners to tackle right away...it¡¯s both easier and more taxing to use energy from outside yourself, so -¡±


    ¡°Come again?¡± I interrupted him, looking away from the pinwheel to give him a look that I hoped was as bewildered as I felt.


    He smiled again. ¡°It¡¯s easier to gather energy when you draw from sources outside of yourself, because the energy of magic exists in a limitless abundance. Everything has magic in it to some extent, from the tiniest grain of sand to the largest sperm whale. Even natural forces generate magical energy, which is why some wizards like to perform complex rituals during storms. The amount of ambient energy available during a really strong thunderstorm is enough to send a rocket to the Moon.¡±


    I whistled softly. ¡°That¡¯s a lot of energy.¡±


    ¡°Which is why drawing energy from outside yourself is more taxing,¡± Ken said. ¡°While there¡¯s a lot more available, it¡¯s harder to...to metabolize energy drawn in from outside yourself, for lack of a better term, before you can use it. Your body will do that automatically in most cases, but it can be both mentally and physically exhausting.¡±


    ¡°Why is it taxing on the mind?¡±


    ¡°Because you have to be extremely careful about how much you take,¡± he replied. ¡°Your mind manages the amount, while your body converts it to be...compatible with you. I suppose that¡¯s the easiest way to put it. It can actually be physically dangerous to channel too much energy without safeguards in place, so -¡±


    ¡°Safeguards?¡± I asked, interrupting him again, though this time I hadn¡¯t meant to. But this was a fascinating line of thought, and I was chasing it.


    Ken smiled. ¡°Generally something like a physical focus...a staff, a wand, rings and bracelets, crystals and gems, pretty much anything that has been prepared for such a task.¡± He planted his hands on his hips and gave me a mock stern look. ¡°Which we¡¯ll get to later, apprentice.¡±


    I felt my cheeks heat up again and laughed at my own compulsive drive to learn. ¡°Sorry. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    He laughed with me. ¡°It¡¯s all right, Mistress. But you really do need to walk before you can run. So... visualize, gather, package, cast. Like I taught you.¡±


    I started over, envisioning the gust of wind I wanted to create...not feeling it myself this time but seeing in my mind¡¯s eye how a little gust of wind would affect the pinwheel. Then I thought about gathering my energy and paused for a moment...


    I had an idea.


    I cupped my right hand, palm up as if to catch something in it. Then I envisioned a ball of air forming in my hand, swirling and moving in invisible patterns. I imagined energy trickling into the ball of energy from my palm and fingers, and felt a faint tingling sensation there as faint little streamers of light began flicking from my fingertips and joining the swirling mass of air above my hand.


    ¡°Excellent!¡± Ken said. ¡°Now, package it and release it.¡±


    I nodded, aimed my hand at the pinwheel, and murmured, ¡°Ventus.¡± As I did, I gestured with my hand, opening my fingers and releasing the spell towards the pinwheel.


    As I had the day before, I felt that strange pulling sensation somewhere inside me, following by a rushing passage of energy down my arm and out through my hand. None of the feelings were as intense as they had been previously.


    The result was far more satisfying.


    I felt a gentle breeze play over my fingertips, and at the other end of the bench the pinwheel began to spin slowly. It stopped after only a few seconds, but it had worked.


    I had cast a spell, and it had worked precisely as intended.


    From her nearby perch, Sparkle jumped up and down and cheered wildly.


    ¡°That¡¯s the ticket!¡± Ken said enthusiastically. ¡°Wonderful work, Mistress! Do you feel the same exhaustion you felt yesterday?¡±


    I realized that, even through the elation I felt, there was none of the debilitating sense of being drained that had followed casting my first successful spell. ¡°No, none at all. I feel pretty normal, really.¡±


    Ken grinned. ¡°That¡¯s because it was a relatively small thing as such things go, and you used the right amount of energy for it this time. That was very well done.¡±


    I felt my cheeks heat up and smiled at him.


    ¡°Now,¡± he said, and his smiled turned a bit wolfish, ¡°do it again.¡±

 Chapter 18

    An hour later I wiped a fine sheen of sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. I was breathless and felt a little bit light-headed, but I had just managed to generate and control enough of a breeze to make the pinwheel lift off the workbench and hover in mid-air for almost thirty seconds.


    ¡°Very well done!¡± Ken said, obviously pleased with the progress I had made. ¡°I must say, for only your second day, your fine control is already improving dramatically. We¡¯ll make a grade-A spellslinger out of you in no time.¡±


    I groaned a little and sat down on the stool beside the table.


    Ken laughed. ¡°I know, the first practical lessons are exhausting, aren¡¯t they.¡±


    ¡°Incredibly,¡± I said, with great feeling.


    I jumped a little as someone touched my arm gently, then pressed a plastic sports bottle of water into my hand before setting a plate - containing a sandwich that my nose told me was applewood smoked turkey with provolone on sourdough - onto the table in front of me. I turned in surprise to find a teenager staring back at me with an impish smile on her face and an equally mischievous twinkle in her brilliant purple eyes.


    It took me a moment to look away from those eyes to take in pixie cut of her hair - which matched the color of her eyes perfectly - and the delicate, pretty features of her face. The diaphanous silk sundress likewise matched the color of her hair and eyes, and her translucent wings - folded tightly to her back, no doubt useless at this size - glistened with similar shades of purple. Her feet were still bare.


    ¡°Sparkle?¡± I asked incredulously.


    ¡°Un huh!¡± She bounced on her toes and grinned up at me, now only a couple of inches shorter than I was. ¡°It¡¯s a lot easier to carry human stuff when I¡¯m not my normal size, and Mistress Chessie used to need a drink and a snack after her lessons, so¡­¡± She did a pirouette on her toes, her wings flaring out a little for balance, spreading her arms at the end of it. ¡°Ta da!¡±


    I sipped some water¡­she was right, I was parched and felt like I¡¯d just finished a long run. ¡°That is really, really cool, Sparkle! How long can you¡­¡± I gestured to indicate her size.


    ¡°A couple of hours,¡± Ken said, drifting over. ¡°Longer, if she practiced it more often.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t had any reason to, have I,¡± she said sulkily.


    ¡°Well,¡± I said firmly, ¡°I think it¡¯s amazing. Thank you, Sparkle.¡±


    She beamed, actually starting to glow a little.


    The sandwich - which was delicious - took up my attention for the next few minutes. As I swallowed the last bite and sipped more water, I said to Ken, ¡°So¡­this exhaustion I¡¯m feeling¡­¡±


    He smiled reassuringly. ¡°Is perfectly normal. You¡¯re using energy, and it has to be replenished from somewhere. In fact, spellcasting is an excellent form of exercise¡­it burns a lot of calories.¡±


    I snorted a little laugh. ¡°I think I¡¯ll continue my normal exercise too.¡±


    ¡°An excellent idea,¡± Ken agreed. ¡°A healthy body makes a healthy mind, and physical stamina does translate into magical stamina, at least to some extent. But don¡¯t be surprised if you¡¯re eating more than usual for a while.¡±


    I nodded. That made good sense to me. ¡°Speaking of which¡­thank you, Sparkle, for the sandwich. I had no idea how hungry this had made me.¡±


    Sparkle, who had pulled over another stool and now sat facing me, her feet swinging a little, beamed at me. ¡°I missed doing stuff like that for Mistress Chessie. I liked running errands for her.¡±


    I smiled. ¡°Well, now that I know you can do it, I¡¯ll send you to get things for me, if that¡¯s really what you want.¡±


    Her whole face lit up with happiness and she literally started to shed a gentle purple glow again. ¡°Really?¡±


    Ken laughed softly.


    ¡°Really,¡± I said gently. ¡°For starters, why don¡¯t you take this plate back to the kitchen for me, and bring me a fresh bottle of water. I suspect Ken¡¯s not done with me yet, and I¡¯ll need another drink before this is over.¡±


    Sparkle squealed happily and was out the door so quickly that the plate and bottle - which had still been in my hands - seemed to vanish, and her stool was still rocking a little when the door closed behind her.


    I blinked in surprise, then laughed softly. ¡°Never, in my wildest dreams, did I ever imagine that I¡¯d ever have friends like you two.¡±


    Chuckling softly, Ken drifted to the end of the table and reattached the pinwheel to the vice. ¡°Not even when you were a little girl?¡±


    I felt my cheeks warm a bit. ¡°Well¡­maybe. When I was little.¡±


    He smiled at me. ¡°We are your servants, Mistress. You are who we exist for.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t abuse the privilege,¡± I said softly, considering his words. Servants. ¡°Ken¡­can¡¯t you be my friends, not just servants?¡±


    His glowing eyes met mine for a moment and his smile flashed brightly. ¡°Of course we can, Mistress. There¡¯s nothing in the rule book that says your servants can¡¯t also be your friends.¡± He spread his hands. ¡°Remember, Sparkle and I are not mortals. We are what you define us to be.¡± He grinned. ¡°With the exception that I will always be your teacher.¡±


    I made a thoughtful sound. ¡°Well, maybe someday I¡¯ll know more than you.¡±


    His smile turned impish. ¡°Perhaps. Time will tell. For now, apprentice, on your feet. We¡¯re going to cast one more spell today.¡±


    ¡°We?¡± I asked as I stood up, taking stock of myself. I felt quite a lot better than I had before eating the snack Sparkle had brought. Tired, but not as depleted as I had been. I made a mental note to pick up a case of protein bars and keep one in my pocket at all times.


    ¡°Semantics,¡± he replied with an airy wave of one hand. ¡°It¡¯s time for you to learn your first self-defense spell.¡± He gestured to the pinwheel. ¡°You are going to hit that with a spark of electricity.¡±


    I shivered a little, then steeled myself, remembering what Malcolm O¡¯Day had said about the town needing me. ¡°The Taser-like spell you mentioned before?¡±


    ¡°Precisely. Just enough energy to knock a man down and stun him, but not enough to do any lasting harm.¡± He pursed his lips. ¡°It¡¯s a good place to start, I think.¡±


    I nodded, trying to imagine what such a thing would look like.


    ¡°Before you start,¡± Ken said, ¡°remember to construct the package for it¡­you need a verbal focus, at least for now."


    I considered what I knew of Latin grammar and vocabulary. I¡¯d studied the language for a couple of semesters at university, not enough to speak or read it fluently, but my steel trap of a mind ruthlessly kept every last scrap of information I put in it. Now, Latin would come in handy. Sort of. ¡°How about ¡®fulparum¡¯?¡± I asked. ¡°Fulmen and parum conjugated in ways that would probably make my Latin professor smash his head on his desk.¡±


    ¡°Very little lightning?¡± Ken asked, amused. ¡°Yes, that will work. The association is nicely solid.¡±


    ¡°Then I envision the effect,¡± I murmured, imagining myself thrusting two fingers towards the pinwheel, a slender thread of electricity leaping from my fingertips to it.


    Ken nodded. ¡°That¡¯s right. Then you gather the energy. This spell will take more than your little breeze spell, but not too much more. Your mother used to joke that she imagined scuffing her feet on a thick carpet for an hour when she cast similar spells.¡±


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    I laughed at the mental image, but it was a surprisingly effective one. I mean¡­what child hasn¡¯t experimented with static electricity by shuffling around on a carpet, then zapping someone by touching their bare skin with a fingertip. So I kept that image in mind as I began to gather the energy, imagining it as static electricity that made my hand tingle gently, gathering in my fingertips.


    I exhaled slowly, took a deep breath, and stared at the pinwheel.


    ¡°When you¡¯re ready,¡± Ken said quietly, ¡°you know what to do.¡±


    I nodded, clenched my right hand into a fist, extended the first two fingers of that hand, and then thrust them towards the pinwheel, shouting, ¡°Fulparum!¡±


    The result was, in retrospect, perfectly predictable. I had gathered a bit too much energy, and had been - in my nervousness - more than a little too vigorous with the verbal focus. The resulting brilliant blue-white spark of electricity that leaped from my fingertips was more like a small bolt of lightning than a taser shot¡­it was as thick around as a pencil, and the air cracked like a whip in its wake. It forked several times as it went, not quite controlled, scorching a few short grooves into the wooden surface of the table and grounding on both stools and other nearby metal implements.


    The pinwheel, poor thing, was blown to tiny burning bits that drifted pathetically to the tabletop and floor before sputtering out, leaving tiny little piles of ash. The air was full of the smell of ozone and burnt wood and plastic.


    Ken winced. ¡°That¡­was a bit much.¡±


    ¡°Oops,¡± I said weakly.


    ¡°Very impressive, though,¡± he added encouragingly. ¡°As I suspected, you have a natural talent for lightning.¡±


    I looked at the lightly smoking remains of the pinwheel, and the scorched lines and divots gouged into the surface of the table.


    ¡°Great,¡± I said quietly.


    ¡°Mistress,¡± Sparkle said quietly from behind me, ¡°I know you don¡¯t like this¡­your mother didn¡¯t either¡­but please believe us when we tell you it¡¯s very important that you know how to defend yourself.¡± She took my right hand gently in her left as she came to stand beside me. She reached behind me at the same time, setting a fresh bottle of water on the table.


    I squeezed her hand gently ¡°It¡¯s just so hard to envision myself doing violence to anyone or anything. I feel kind of guilty for destroying that poor pinwheel!¡±


    Ken smiled a little. ¡°If you don¡¯t start it, it¡¯s just self-defense.¡±


    ¡°Even if you do start it,¡± Sparkle said in a surprisingly firm tone, ¡°it can still be self-defense. We fairies know better than most the value of striking first and as hard as possible. We¡¯re very vulnerable, even in large groups.¡±


    I picked up the bottle with my free hand and drank from it slowly to give myself a moment to consider that. I hadn¡¯t before then, but in retrospect it made sense. If there were supernatural predators out in the world, there would be supernatural prey too¡­and Sparkle, in her natural size, fit that definition very well. At least, I assumed she did, based on what she had said. For all I knew a group of fairies working together could do a lot of damage. But I doubted it.


    ¡°Well,¡± I said finally, ¡°I suppose if it¡¯s something that¡¯s important for me to learn - and Malcolm O¡¯Day in town implied that it was too - it¡¯s reassuring to know that I¡¯ll be able to do it and do it well, with some practice.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit!¡± Ken said cheerfully.


    Sparkle coughed quietly.


    He sighed. ¡°Sorry. I can¡¯t seem to help it sometimes.¡±


    After I¡¯d refreshed myself and had, in Ken¡¯s opinion, stewed in silence long enough, he gestured to the other side of the room. ¡°Come over here with me, and we¡¯ll see if we can find a length of wood that suits you to start your first staff.¡±


    Sparkle clapped excitedly, bounced off her stool, took my hands in hers and tugged me to my feet. Her hands were warm around mine¡­but then, she was literally a bundle of energy, I supposed. It shouldn¡¯t have surprised me that her body temperature was higher than mine.


    Ken led us to a rack containing a dozen lengths of wood, only a couple of inches in diameter each, and all of them about six feet long. ¡°We can cut them down to size if need be,¡± he said, ¡°but it¡¯s not a bad thing if it¡¯s longer than you are tall. I could even teach you a bit of quarterstaff fighting for self-defense.¡±


    ¡°That actually sounds pretty interesting,¡± I said, as a length of white wood at the far right end of the rack caught my eyes.


    Ken seemed to notice, and smiled faintly before leading me to the left end. ¡°We¡¯ll try them all out to begin. Just pick up each one, feel it, try to sense the energy of it.¡±


    ¡°What am I looking for?¡± I asked as Sparkle stepped back to give me room.


    ¡°You¡¯ll know when you feel it,¡± Ken replied cryptically.


    ¡°Thank you, oh knowledgeable one,¡± I said dryly. ¡°Do you think you could be a little bit less specific? That was almost helpful.¡±


    Sparkle giggled.


    Ken flashed me his quick grin. ¡°It¡¯s actually fairly simple, really. The same way each person has elemental affinities, everybody has affinities for certain materials. Different materials - wood, metal, stone and gems, among other things - resonate differently with different people. It¡¯s one of the reasons why most spellcasters can¡¯t use a focus made by someone else.¡±


    He tipped his head and looked at me thoughtfully. ¡°I suspect you will be an oak. Your family has a long history of working with oak.¡±


    I laughed a little. ¡°Never would¡¯ve guessed, what with that oak and ivy leaf pattern so prevalent in the house and town.¡±


    Ken chuckled softly. ¡°True. At any rate, your father laid in a number of different types of wood for you to choose from. At least one of them, possibly more, should suit you.¡±


    ¡°And if they don¡¯t?¡± I asked, more out of curiosity than any worry.


    ¡°We¡¯ll try metals,¡± Ken shrugged. ¡°Your grandmother used a staff of steel and copper woven together. It weighed a fair bit, but she could do incredible things with it, especially when she was working with electricity.¡±


    ¡°I suppose it would¡¯ve been like using a lightning rod,¡± I said. When Ken nodded, I returned my attention to the row of potential staves, glancing down the line at the shaft of white wood again, before returning my attention to the ones directly in front of me.


    ¡°Start here at the left,¡± Ken said, with what I thought was a sad little smile, ¡°and work your way to the right. If you find one that feels different than the others, we¡¯ll set it aside, and I¡¯ll tell you what it is.¡±


    ¡°All right,¡± I nodded, reached out, and touched the first length of wood. I let my fingers glide along its smooth, unpolished surface, then picked it up and frowned at it. ¡°It¡­feels like wood.¡±


    Ken laughed. ¡°Then move on to the next one.¡±


    I passed over four total before finally understanding what Ken meant. When I touched the fifth staff - a length of dark, reddish-brown wood - it made my fingers tingle gently and seemed almost to hum against my skin. ¡°This one,¡± I said. ¡°I feel something.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Ken said, nodding. ¡°Red mahogany. That¡¯s an interesting one.¡±


    I pulled it from the rack and set it on the table behind us. ¡°Why interesting?¡±


    ¡°Mahogany,¡± Ken said, ¡°is generally associated with spiritual growth and guidance. It¡¯s an excellent wood for emotional and spiritual healing, but can be rather brittle.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow.


    Ken smiled. ¡°Don¡¯t read too much into it, though it can reveal some things about you. Next?¡±


    I continued on, stopping again after three more. ¡°This one,¡± I said, ¡°feels like the mahogany one.¡±


    ¡°Very good,¡± Ken said. ¡°As I expected¡­that one is oak. Oak, it is said, teaches us strength of character. It¡¯s also associated with - among other things - the energy of kingship and wise rule¡­authority, power, protection, wisdom, endurance, and so on.¡±


    ¡°I rather like that,¡± I said, looking at it thoughtfully before setting it on the table. ¡°It sounds reassuring.¡±


    Ken smiled. ¡°Yes, it does. Keep going.¡±


    The next one made my fingers tingle too, though not as much as the other two. I set it with the others as Ken identified it.


    ¡°Cherry,¡± he said, ¡°would be an interesting wood for you. Cherry is associated with lessons of clearing the heart of pain, and teaches us how to relate to others in a compassionate manner.¡±


    I made a thoughtful sound. ¡°That¡¯s rather profound.¡±


    Ken chuckled softly. ¡°Most of them will seem so. In truth, we¡¯re just looking for a wood that energy flows through easily for you.¡±


    ¡°So how come I never felt this tingle when I touched wood before now?¡± I asked. ¡°I mean, oak is a very common wood. This certainly isn¡¯t the first time I¡¯ve come into contact with it.¡±


    ¡°The wood needs to be specially prepared before it will work as a staff,¡± Ken said. ¡°I¡¯ll teach you how to do that later. For now, suffice it to say that your father already took care of that step with these, which is why they react to you. Ones that you prepare yourself will be even more effective.¡±


    ¡°Ah. So¡­why not prepare them myself now?¡± I asked.


    ¡°An apprentice¡¯s first staff is usually made by their master,¡± Ken explained, ¡°simply as a matter of convenience. The techniques for preparing the wood are rather complex, and not something a new apprentice is ready to learn.¡±


    I considered that for a moment, then nodded. ¡°Makes sense.¡±


    I set aside the next length of wood as well, which was made of eucalyptus. Ken explained that it was the strongest wood for use in healing magic. ¡°Even if you don¡¯t make a staff of it,¡± he said, ¡°it would be a good idea to make a wand or bracelet of eucalyptus for enhancing healing spells.¡±


    Finally, I reached the length of smooth white wood that had been tugging at my attention from the start. The instant I touched it, I knew it was the one. It felt so right under my fingers that they closed around it automatically, and when I held it in my hand it felt almost like an extension of my arm.


    ¡°This one,¡± I said with perfect certainty.


    Ken huffed a little laugh and smiled sadly. ¡°I should have known.¡±


    When I glanced at Sparkle, she had her hands over her mouth and had tears in her eyes, which she blinked away quickly when she saw me looking.


    ¡°Why?¡± I asked. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°White wax wood,¡± Ken said softly. ¡°Your mother prepared that one for you when you were born. She had used one like it for years, and was positive that it was going to work just as well for you. Your father had doubts - he was a man who always planned for contingencies - so he prepared the others.¡±


    ¡°They were like that,¡± Sparkle said softly, coming to stand beside me again. ¡°Mistress Chessie was always so certain of everything, and Master James always had doubts about everything.¡±


    I shifted the staff to my left hand and set its end on the floor. It was a couple of inches taller than I was, smooth and almost perfectly round from top to bottom, with its ends flattened. The length of it had been sanded and polished to a shine. ¡°So, what does white wax wood represent?¡±


    Ken smiled. ¡°Truthfully, I¡¯m not sure. It¡¯s an Eastern wood, from China and Japan, so it doesn¡¯t have any Western associations. But it¡¯s highly prized for its strength, flexibility, and its ability to take shocks without breaking. In that, it is most assuredly a good match for you, Mistress.¡±

 Chapter 19

    ¡°I saw some bracelets, rings and wands in mom¡¯s dresser,¡± I said as I put the other lengths of wood back in the rack. ¡°And something that I thought was a belt made of metal. Were those her foci?¡±


    Ken beckoned for me to follow him to one of the worktables as he said, ¡°Some of them were, some were just jewelry. Now that you mention it though, we ought to have a closer look at them. I can tell you what each one did, which will give you a better idea of what such things are used for. You might even have an affinity for one or two of them. Put the blank staff here, we¡¯ll start working soon.¡±


    I put the wax wood staff on the indicated worktable, which had racks on it containing what I guessed were engraving and etching tools for various materials. ¡°What does that mean? That I might have an affinity for some of her foci?¡±


    ¡°As I¡¯ve mentioned,¡± Ken said, ¡°and as a generality, one spellcaster cannot usually effectively use a focus created by another spellcaster. It¡¯s a matter of energy and affinity¡­in the same way some of those blank staves felt like plain wood to you, while others felt different, the same is true - and on a greater scale - for crafted ones.


    ¡°However,¡± he went on as we headed for the door together, Sparkle trailing behind us, ¡°some are actually passed down through bloodlines, as that close a relationship can sometimes allow the affinity for a focus to pass through the bloodline¡­that is, the tool resonates magically with descendants as well as its creator, allowing for effective use of it.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± I said slowly, not entirely sure that I actually did.


    Ken smiled. ¡°It¡¯s a complicated subject. Suffice it to say for now that, if one of your mother¡¯s foci is going to work for you, you¡¯ll know it quickly enough.¡±


    As we left the lab¡­damn it, I was not going to let Ken suck me into feeling like a mad scientist, no matter how funny I found it¡­the workshop and started down the hall, Sparkle shyly took my hand. It startled me, but I didn¡¯t pull away. I did glance over however, and the look on her face as I let her hold my hand made me smile, and I felt my cheeks warming with embarrassment. I didn¡¯t understand how or why simply being allowed to hold my hand could make her so perfectly and radiantly happy.


    But then, I¡¯d never had anyone hold my hand except to lead me across streets before. It made me feel rather special.


    And, recalling the way she¡¯d clung to me when we first met, and how she spent so much time perched on my shoulder, Sparkle was obviously a very tactile being. It would probably do me a world of good to get used to that.


    Shortly, I was sitting on the floor in front of my mother¡¯s dresser with Sparkle sitting beside me and leaning lightly against my left arm. I opened the drawer in which I¡¯d seen the items I was guessing were Mom''s magical tools, and shifted a little so Ken could get a better look.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see,¡± he said, then nodded. ¡°Yes, these are her foci. I wasn¡¯t really sure your father had kept them.¡±


    ¡°Ah. So¡­why are so many of them pieces of jewelry? You keep mentioning wands and such.¡±


    Ken smiled and sat down on my right. ¡°Because your mother found them easier to carry, and they didn¡¯t stand out the way a staff, wand, or something like a ritual dagger would. Your mother was a bit of a pioneer in that respect. Many of her contemporaries felt she was disrespecting tradition¡­your father felt she was being uncommonly practical.¡±


    Sparkle giggled. ¡°Mistress Chessie was rarely practical about much of anything.¡±


    I chuckled softly. ¡°That certainly fits the mental picture I¡¯m building of her.¡± I poked one of the bracelets. ¡°Is this silver? I¡¯m not really familiar with metals.¡±


    ¡°Platinum, actually,¡± Ken said. ¡°Different metals can contain different amounts of magical energy, based on a number of factors. The biggest contributing factor being their purity, and there are few metals more pure than silver and platinum.¡±


    ¡°By purity,¡± I asked slowly, suspecting a misunderstanding, ¡°are you speaking of the amount of physical impurities once a metal has been smelted?¡±


    Ken smiled. ¡°Partly. But more than that, it¡¯s also a measure of¡­of how well the metal will hold and channel energy, for lack of a better way of putting it. It¡¯s one of those concepts that doesn¡¯t define well¡­it¡¯s something you¡¯ll come to understand instinctively. Many people say it¡¯s a measure of the spiritual purity of the metal, which is why that term is used.


    ¡°It¡¯s also,¡± he said absently, leaning forward to examine the pieces in the drawer more closely, ¡°why silver is so disruptive to cursed beings like vampires and werewolves, and to unholy entities like demons¡­¡±


    I had gone completely still as he trailed off into silence, trying simultaneously to accept the casual disregard with which Ken had mentioned creatures I had for so long considered the stuff of fantasy. Integrate the existence of such basically terrifying things into my new reality was going to take some doing.


    Sparkle took my left hand in both of hers and twined our fingers together, leaning close and whispering, ¡°Yes, they¡¯re real. No, they can¡¯t get in the House. They¡¯re also very rare, and most of them are actually perfectly friendly if you¡¯re polite.¡±


    I blinked a couple of times and felt the growing tension ease out of my body. I squeezed her hand and murmured, ¡°Thank you, Sparkle.¡±


    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her faint purple glow return, and smiled a little.


    Ken went on, either not having noticed my momentary fear or having spotted Sparkle effectively dealing with it and preferring not to say any more on the subject. ¡°Of all metals, platinum has the greatest potential to hold magical energy,¡± he said. ¡°At least, of metals that are easy to get a hold of and safe to work with. The choker you¡¯re wearing, for example, is able to store and regenerate the energy needed for the enchantments that allow it to contain all of that chain in a very small space, resize itself to fit you perfectly, and keep anyone but you from removing it. Frankly, it could hold a lot more than that, but Mistress Chessie never added any other enchantments that I know of.¡±


    Sparkle shifted a little beside me, and I wondered what she knew that Ken didn¡¯t. It must be something to do with what Sparkle knew about the choker that she¡¯d promised not to tell anyone. Since I trusted that it wouldn¡¯t be anything harmful - I simply couldn¡¯t see either my mother or Sparkle being willing to do me any harm at all - I let it go for now.


    ¡°There¡¯s an earring here,¡± Ken said, ¡°that you might want to wear if it¡¯ll work for you. It¡¯s a small emerald in a silver setting, which is enchanted to protect its wearer against a large number of comparatively minor, but very annoying, hexes and curses. Because emerald and silver were used - you¡¯ll learn more about the properties and affinities of metals and gems as we go - Mistress Chessie was able to make it very protective indeed.¡±


    I took a look, and plucked out the earring in question. It was a simple thing, understated but - to my eyes - very pretty. A silver setting made of delicate-looking swirls of wire surrounding a tiny, rough-cut emerald. After a moment, I removed the small silver stud in my left ear and replaced it with the silver and emerald earring.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    My earlobe tingled for a moment as I secured it in place.


    ¡°I felt something,¡± I said, lightly touching the earring.


    ¡°Excellent,¡± Ken said, pleased. ¡°That will have been the protective enchantments taking effect.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, wondering if I could find an earring to match it. Then, amused at myself, wondered why anybody else would care if I wore mismatched earrings. Better yet, perhaps I could find a similar one with a blue stone in it, and wear them in opposition to the color of my eyes. The idea rather tickled me for some reason. ¡°So, what else do we have here¡­those are wands, right?¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°Correct. The wands your mother made were for controlling different types of elemental magic. She later replaced some of them with rings, and others with bracelets, but right here we have one for fire magic,¡± he pointed to one capped with a ruby, ¡°one for earth magic,¡± he pointed to one with an emerald attached to it, then one with a sapphire and one with a piece of quartz, ¡°one for water magic, and one for air magic.¡±


    He paused for a moment, then shrugged a little. ¡°Your mother liked to make foci with a specific purpose in mind, rather than ones with a broader range of uses. She felt they worked better that way.¡±


    ¡°Did they?¡± I asked curiously.


    Ken smiled. ¡°Most of the time, yes. But it meant carrying around a lot more of them. You¡¯ll see there¡¯s a few metal bracelets over here with gems embedded in them¡­they mostly replaced Mistress Chessie¡¯s wands as her skill increased.¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°Definitely a point to consider.¡±


    ¡°The wooden bracelets,¡± Ken said, looking at them closely, ¡°as I recall, were an experiment by your mother to replace her staff. You¡¯ll see they have runes engraved in them, similar to the ones you¡¯ll be etching into your first staff later on. They never worked very well for your mother, and probably won¡¯t for you, either.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Ken considered his words for a moment, then sighed a little. ¡°Basically, it¡¯s because the wizard¡¯s staff is a very broad-spectrum tool, with a wide variety of uses. It¡¯s the Swiss Army knife of magical tools, if you will. As a result, it¡¯s tough to break it up into smaller pieces - like these wooden bracelets - and still have it work effectively.¡±


    I digested that for a moment, then nodded. ¡°That actually makes good sense to me. It¡¯d be like breaking up your keys onto multiple key rings. Sure, they¡¯re easier to organize, but they¡¯re also spread out, which makes it harder to find the one you¡¯re looking for when you¡¯re pressed for time.¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°Exactly. Though it''s also a matter of metaphysical mass. The bracelets comprise a smaller mass of wood, resulting in a less effective focus than the greater mass of a staff.¡±


    ¡°What about that metal belt there?¡± I pointed to the curious, braided thing.


    ¡°Another attempt by your mother to replace her staff,¡± Ken said with a smile, ¡°and to reproduce her own mother¡¯s very impressive and effective staff. Mistress Chessie had this notion that she could make a similar metal staff that would be light and malleable, so she could change its shape and wear it as a belt.¡± He shook his head a little. ¡°It¡¯s not a terrible idea, really. The staff itself was a work of art, made of braided silver, copper, and platinum, with a flexible core of gold and iron wire and chain. A masterpiece of forging, and a powerful focus.¡±


    He chuckled softly and continued. ¡°Unfortunately, the first time she made it go limp to wear it as a belt, she was unable to get it to change back into a staff.¡±


    I laughed. ¡°Once I have a grasp of what I¡¯m doing, maybe I¡¯ll see if I can make it work.¡±


    Sparkle giggled. ¡°Mistress Chessie would¡¯ve liked that.¡±


    Ken nodded his agreement, returning his attention to the drawer. ¡°The rings here are all specific-use items, like the wands. There is one here that I¡¯d like you to try out¡­that one there, the silver one with the little kite shield on it.¡±


    I picked it up and looked at it. It was a simple silver ring with an equally simple - but well-made - Medieval kite shield. Perhaps inevitably, the shield had tiny oak and ivy leaves engraved on it. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Your mother called it her ¡®forcefield¡¯ ring,¡± Ken said. ¡°It¡¯s designed to channel defensive energies into stronger, more effective barriers. At its most basic level, you can just push energy into it to create a small shield.¡±


    ¡°I like the sound of that,¡± I said. ¡°How would I use it?¡±


    Ken smiled. ¡°I thought it might appeal to you. Start by putting it on. I recommend your left middle finger.¡±


    I gently extricated my left hand from Sparkle¡¯s, then slipped the ring on, reassured to feel the same sensation I¡¯d felt when I put on the earring. ¡°Why there?¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s not where you¡¯d wear an engagement ring or wedding band, rings look odd on the index finger - or so your mother always said - and you¡¯re already wearing Sparkle''s ring on your right middle finger.¡±


    The look I gave him was so surprised and confused that he started laughing. ¡°You were expecting some mysteriously arcane and portentous magical reason overflowing with deeper meaning, I take it,¡± he said between chuckles.


    I blinked a few times, then shook my head and smiled ruefully. ¡°I was starting to think every explanation you gave me would be that way. Hearing a very mundane one tripped me up.¡±


    Ken smiled warmly. ¡°Yes, I suppose most of my answers so far have felt that way, haven¡¯t they. But not everything needs to have an arcane explanation. Some things simply are.¡± He gestured to the ring. ¡°Now, make a fist and hold it out in front of you. We¡¯ll start with the simplest use of the ring¡­gather some energy, then push it out through the ring.¡±


    After his earlier lessons, that turned out to be surprisingly easy. I envisioned the energy gathering in my closed fist, then visualized channeling it into and through the ring.


    I yelped in surprise when a full-size glowing kite shield - white in the center, fading to pale blue at the edges - sprang forth from the ring to hover in the air in front of my clenched fist. It was so solid-looking that I could barely see through it at all. I moved my hand around a bit, and the shield moved with it, staying directly in front of the ring at all times.


    Ken¡¯s mouth dropped open a little.


    Sparkle laughed and clapped her hands. ¡°Well done, Mistress!¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Ken said slowly, shifting a little as he examined the magical shield closely. ¡°We¡¯ll have to work on teaching you to make it more translucent, but¡­Mistress, are you having to strain to hold that at all?¡±


    I considered myself for a moment, then shook my head. ¡°No, it¡¯s no strain at all.¡±


    ¡°Interesting,¡± Ken said slowly. ¡°We¡¯ll have to test its strength later, but you most assuredly have an affinity for that particular focus. Stronger than your mother¡¯s, I¡¯d say.¡±


    I released the shield and it instantly vanished. ¡°That¡¯s¡­a good thing, right?¡± I asked, feeling a bit wary of the unknown.


    ¡°Very good!¡± Ken said quickly and reassuringly. ¡°It¡¯s just a little bit strange, that¡¯s all. Still, it¡¯ll make your defensive lessons a lot easier to start.¡±


    We sat in silence for a moment as I put things back - keeping the ring and earring, since I was quite certain my mother not only wouldn¡¯t have minded, but would have wanted me to have them - and closed up the drawers again. Then I said, ¡°So¡­now that I¡¯ve had a glimpse into what foci can be made to do and how they work, how do we proceed with my staff?¡±


    Ken seemed to shake himself slightly. Perhaps he¡¯d been lost in thought for a minute too. ¡°Well, the first step will be deciding on a pattern of runes to engrave on it. There are several traditional sets with different uses, but the most common one is designed to channel and redirect energy. It turns the staff into a general-purpose tool for easing the gathering and use of energy.¡±


    ¡°That does sound useful,¡± I agreed, thinking that anything that made me less likely to exhaust myself casting spells was a good thing. ¡°What do the others do?¡±


    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s a pretty wide variety, really,¡± Ken said. ¡°Some are designed for defense, like your ring. Others are for offense, like general-purpose wands. Geomancy - earth magic - is often practiced with a staff or cane carved specifically for that purpose, because of how difficult and energy-intensive it can be. But for a first staff, the general-purpose design I spoke of first is best. Many wizards never use any other type of staff.¡±


    ¡°I can imagine,¡± I said. ¡°It sounds like a very useful tool.¡±


    ¡°So it is, Mistress.¡± He looked at me more closely and rose. ¡°But we¡¯ll start on that tomorrow. For now, you look rather drained. Let¡¯s get a solid meal into you, and you can take the rest of the evening off. You could explore the house a bit after dinner, if you feel up to it. There¡¯s a truly amazing aquarium room that you might like.¡±


    His words made me realize just how tired I felt. ¡°That sounds wonderful,¡± I said with a laugh, struggling to my feet with some support from Sparkle. ¡°My legs feel like lead all of a sudden.¡±


    Ken smiled. ¡°Magic lessons are like that at first. But as your stamina improves, it¡¯ll get easier. In a couple of weeks, you¡¯ll just be tired at the end of the day instead of wiped out.¡±


    ¡°Thank goodness for that!¡± I said with a smile as Sparkle gigglingly finished pulling me to my feet. ¡°Successful second lesson, then?¡±


    Ken gave me a decidedly proud smile. ¡°Very successful, Mistress.¡±

 Chapter 20

    A little while later, I sat back in my chair at the table by the kitchen fireplace - which now had a small, cheerily-crackling fire burning in it - and stared at the remains of the meal I¡¯d just devoured in vaguely horrified astonishment.


    The plate before me on the table contained what was left of a decently sized t-bone steak, two stripped ears of corn, and the empty skin of a baked potato¡­a meal I ordinarily wouldn¡¯t indulge in, but which I¡¯d felt hungry enough to tackle when Ken had suggested it. Beside it was a bowl containing the remains of a salad, another smaller plate with the crumbs of two decently sized and delightfully crusty rolls, and a third small plate with a few little smears of chocolate frosting on it, which was all that was left of a slice of chocolate cake.


    ¡°Bloody hell,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever eaten that much at one meal before.¡±


    Sparkle, back to her original size, made a happy sound of agreement. She was sprawled on another plate nearby, surrounded by the crumbs of her own (much larger) slice of chocolate cake. It had been something close to four times her size, yet she¡¯d still devoured it in moments and with great gusto. I gave up on any hope of figuring out her biology and firmly assigned the matter to the growing ¡®magic; will hopefully understand later¡¯ category.


    ¡°Well,¡± Ken said, amused, ¡°you both expended quite a bit of energy this afternoon. I¡¯m not surprised you were both famished.¡±


    I hiccuped a little and covered my mouth. ¡°Excuse me. Is this going to be a regular thing?¡± I was a bit worried about my waistline after that meal.


    Ken shook his head, smiling. ¡°No, your body will adjust eventually. Though anytime you expend a large amount of effort on spellcasting, you¡¯ll probably be pretty hungry afterwards. That¡¯s natural.¡±


    ¡°Whew.¡± I mimed wiping my forehead and then stretched a little. ¡°Actually, I do feel a lot better now. I¡¯m still tired, but not exhausted, and definitely not as wiped out as I was yesterday.¡±


    Sparkle belched prodigiously, a surprisingly deep sound for such a dainty little thing, then giggled.


    Ken and I shook our heads and tried to hide our smiles.


    ¡°Well,¡± Ken said, ¡°you¡¯ve improved quickly. It¡¯s a good sign that your body is going to take to casting spells very well.¡±


    ¡°Some don¡¯t?¡± I asked curiously.


    ¡°Some don¡¯t,¡± Ken said. ¡°Some people have no innate ability for it at all. Others do, but can¡¯t¡­metabolize energy easily, so to speak. You¡¯ll find most of the people in town who have some ability are like that¡­talented, but not able to handle the energy requirements for more complex spells. Other people can manage enormous amounts of energy, but don¡¯t have the drive or discipline to become really skilled.¡± He spread his hands. ¡°As with any talent or skill, not everyone is equally able to learn or accomplish it.¡±


    I nodded a little. ¡°That makes sense. Speaking of the town, I would like to go down to the Oak and Ivy tomorrow night, so try not to completely wear me out tomorrow.¡±


    Ken chuckled. ¡°We¡¯ll take it a bit easy tomorrow anyway. As with most exercise, it¡¯s best if you don¡¯t push hard every day.¡±


    ¡°Thank goodness.¡± I stretched again and yawned behind my hand. ¡°All right, before I collapse, you said something about an aquarium?¡±


    Sparkle sat up, suddenly interested in our conversation again.


    Ken smiled. ¡°Oh yes. It was one of your mother¡¯s favorite rooms. Come on, I¡¯ll show you.¡±


    Out of the kitchen and down the hall we went. Not very far this time, before reaching a heavy oak door with a simple fish icon engraved on it. Perhaps the House knew I was tired, because as much as I wanted to see this room, I wasn¡¯t up for a long walk to get there.


    I unlocked and opened the door onto a well-lit but narrow shaft that went straight down and was completely filled with a fascinating spiral staircase that appeared to have been fashioned out of different types of coral. However, as I touched the railing, I realized that it was exquisitely carved and painted wood of some sort.


    ¡°Amazing,¡± I said quietly, bending to examine it in closer detail.


    Ken laughed softly. ¡°Wait until you see what¡¯s at the bottom. Go on!¡±


    Sparkle, once more riding on my shoulder ¨C perhaps she felt too full to fly after that meal ¨C gave my neck a gentle nudge. ¡°Come on! The best stuff¡¯s at the bottom!¡±


    I started down the spiral staircase. There were lights shaped to look like seashells embedded in the wall every few feet, but it didn¡¯t look like there were light bulbs inside...or any source of light I was familiar with. It took all of my willpower to resist the urge to stop and examine one of them in closer detail.


    I quickly discovered that stopping to examine one of the lights would¡¯ve been a complete waste of time. Just as I was about to give in, we descended into a room that was...


    Well...it was a reverse fishbowl, really. It was a glass sphere with a flattened bottom, onto which we descended, and which was about twenty feet across. Around the edge on the inside was a padded bench, broken up by hardwood sections clearly meant to act as small tables. And that was the extent of its decor.


    Anything else would¡¯ve been wasted, because outside the glass sphere was ocean in every direction, including up, a fact that made my eyes ache a little and twisted my brain. The spiral staircase literally vanished into a dark hole in the glass ceiling, around which the ocean was clearly visible.


    And it was a gorgeous sight. I guessed that it was a tropical region, wherever the ocean was, not only because the water was sunlit and crystal clear, but because I could see types of coral that I believed were of tropical origin, along with a ridiculous variety of small, colorful fish. As I watched, a stingray glided past, and beneath my feet an octopus emerged from a gap in the coral.


    Sparkle started giggling and pushed my chin up, at which point I realized that I was kneeling on the bench with my hands and nose flattened against the glass and my mouth hanging open. In my defense, it was probably the most astonishing thing I¡¯d seen since arriving, and that was really saying something.


    ¡°What...where...how?¡± was all I could say.


    Ken laughed. ¡°Welcome to the aquarium, Mistress. To the best of my knowledge, nobody has ever figured out where, exactly, it is. Since we can¡¯t see the sky, we can¡¯t judge by the stars, but there is a day/night cycle. The aquarium lights up the water around itself at night. Most of the species of fish and coral have been identified, so we¡¯re reasonably certain that it¡¯s on Earth somewhere.


    ¡°As to how,¡± he chuckled. ¡°Well...the House is magic, Mistress. I think this probably qualifies.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll say.¡± I turned my full attention back to the display outside, shaking my head a little. ¡°This is just¡­this is amazing.¡±


    A brightly colored fish about the size of my hand swam up to the glass scant inches from my face and seemed to stare back at me before darting away again. I was absolutely enchanted¡­and then realized that this too was an aspect of magic that I hadn¡¯t considered. A room like this might be possible to achieve using technology, but there would undoubtedly have been ventilation ducts to circulate fresh air, and a structure above blocking natural light¡­


    This room simply could not be achieved, as it was, without magic. After a few minutes, I turned and settled on the bench, curling one leg under myself and leaning back against the wall. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Ken blinked a few times. ¡°You¡¯re welcome. What for?¡±


    I smiled. ¡°For reminding me that magic is more than just what we¡¯ve been studying so far. I mean¡­it¡¯s all around me every day now, but this¡­¡± I gestured to the room in general. ¡°This is magical.¡±


    Sparkle sighed, a distinctly happy sound. ¡°Mistress Chessie loved this room for that exact reason.¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°True. She used to say pretty much the same thing you just did.¡±


    I sat and watched the ocean for a little while, too tired from the day¡¯s work to really do much of anything before bed. But this amazing room was a perfectly place to just sit and be, thinking about nothing in particular and just letting the world stay at arm¡¯s length. I let my subconscious do its own thing while I stared out at the fish and felt the tension seeping out of my muscles.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    It was¡­meditative, for lack of a better word. I wouldn¡¯t say relaxing, though it definitely was, but it was deeper than that. There was a peace and tranquility to the room that was just what I¡¯d needed.


    After a few minutes of peaceful non-contemplation, my mind informed me that it knew how to chart its course, and I turned my attention back to Ken. ¡°Before I go to bed, before it''s too late in the day, I think I need to make a couple of phone calls.¡±


    As it turned out, the only telephone in the house was the old rotary phone on the desk in my father¡¯s office. So I went there straightaway, making a mental note (the list was getting rather long) to see about buying some wireless phones. And to find out if there was even any place to plug them in.


    I really needed to start keeping a written list.


    I settled into my father¡¯s old desk chair and stared at the ancient Bakelite phone, wondering how it even still worked, and feeling a growing sense of finality as I considered the calls I was about to make. Curiously, there was no unease to the two decisions I¡¯d made in the aquarium. Though I was a little bit nervous, as one is with new things, there was mostly just¡­a knowledge of things that needed to be done, and a feeling that I was turning a corner in my life and settling onto a new path.


    I opened the small notebook in which I kept important phone numbers, pulled out the business card Margrave had left me, and dialed his number. The phone rang three times before it was picked up.


    Margrave¡¯s gentle voice said, ¡°You have reached the offices of Summers and Winters. This is Margrave speaking.¡±


    ¡°Good evening, Margrave,¡± I said with a smile, ¡°this is Caley Reid.¡±


    ¡°Ah yes!¡± he said, sounding pleased. ¡°Good evening to you, Miss. Have you found everything in order?¡±


    ¡°Very much so,¡± I said. ¡°The Caretaker has been of enormous help so far, and the House is simply extraordinary.¡±


    ¡°So it is, and I¡¯m very glad to hear that. For my records, have you chosen a name for the Caretaker yet?¡± Margrave asked.


    So, he did know more than he¡¯d told me during our brief meetings. Of course, that made sense. Honestly, I wouldn¡¯t have believed a word of it without seeing it first. ¡°I have. I¡¯ve named him Ken.¡±


    There was a short pause, and I thought I heard the scratching of an old-fashioned fountain pen in the background. ¡°Excellent, Miss. And was the automobile to your liking?¡±


    I smiled. ¡°It was lovely to drive, and the on-board GPS was much better than a map.¡±


    Margrave chuckled softly. ¡°I¡¯m pleased to hear you enjoyed it. Now, how may I be of assistance to you this evening?¡±


    I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and let it out. ¡°I need help closing the lease on my apartment, and arranging to have my remaining personal possessions there delivered here to the House.¡±


    ¡°I was hoping that was why you were calling, Miss,¡± Margrave said, sounding a bit relieved. ¡°I shall make arrangements for both to be taken care of immediately.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, then added, ¡°there isn¡¯t much, so hopefully the fees won¡¯t be -¡±


    Margrave cut me off gently. ¡°Do not concern yourself with the cost of handling these matters, Miss. You must adjust to the idea that you have more money than you can actually spend. Which reminds me, I have made a substantial donation to the orphanage where you grew up - in your name - as you requested, and have assembled a list of charities I believe you will find worthy of donations. I shall send it to you anon.¡±


    Anon? I couldn¡¯t remember ever actually having heard anyone use the word in a conversation before. Weird. ¡°Ah¡­yes, thank you. I¡¯m still having trouble wrapping my head around that.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not a bad thing,¡± Margrave said, a bit of amusement in his voice. ¡°As I recall, your mother never truly understood money. Better, I think, that you understand both its value and its scarcity for some people. Such understanding makes us better able to appreciate the resources available to us.¡±


    I had no idea how to respond to that, but I agreed. ¡°Definitely. Oh, could you look into the possibility of having high speed Internet of some sort run to the House? There¡¯s a lot for me to learn here, but I don¡¯t want to lose contact with the outside world.¡±


    Again, I heard the sound of a fountain pen nib scratching on paper. ¡°Very wise, Miss. I shall do so at once, and have it set up as quickly as possible. Will you be needing a wireless router?¡±


    I blinked. For a man who used the word ¡®anon¡¯ in a sentence, he was surprisingly up to date on his technology. ¡°I¡¯d like wireless, if it¡¯ll work in here.¡±


    ¡°There should be no difficulties, as long as the House is agreeable. You might need to set that up yourself, of course.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± I wondered what that would entail. Probably just asking the House politely.


    ¡°But I will see to it that appropriate equipment is sent to you when the connection has been established.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m starting to think I¡¯ll be lost without your help before long, Margrave,¡± I joked.


    He laughed softly. ¡°Hardly, Miss. But we at Summers and Winters do our very best to be indispensable to our valued clients.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re doing a stellar job so far,¡± I said seriously.


    ¡°Thank you, Miss. Is there anything else I can do for you today?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t think of anything right now,¡± I said.


    ¡°Very good, Miss. Please do not hesitate to call me any time of the day or night.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Any time?¡±


    ¡°Any time,¡± he said firmly. ¡°I am at your disposal should you need my help.¡±


    I got the distinct impression that there were depths to that statement that I didn¡¯t comprehend yet. But he sounded very serious, so I responded with matching gravity. ¡°Thank you, Margrave. I¡¯ll try to keep it to regular business hours whenever possible.¡±


    His voice took on a tone of amusement again. ¡°That is, of course, appreciated, Miss. Have a good night!¡±


    ¡°You too, Margrave.¡±


    I heard the line click and hung up myself.


    Sparkle, who was pushing one of the pens back and forth in its brass desk set, idly observed, ¡°Margrave is a good person, and very trustworthy. For one of the Sidhe.¡±


    I blinked a few times. ¡°Margrave¡­isn¡¯t human.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question, it was pieces falling into place.


    Sparkle looked up at me. ¡°No, Mistress.¡± She giggled. ¡°Didn¡¯t you realize?¡±


    I smiled at her. ¡°Dear Sparkle, until I met you, I never realized I¡¯d actually met someone who wasn¡¯t human. Or who at least hadn''t been human at one time." Somehow, Ken didn''t quite count.


    She blinked a few times in astonishment. ¡°Really? Wow!¡±


    ¡°So,¡± I said, ¡°can I trust Margrave? I don¡¯t know anything about the Sidhe yet.¡±


    ¡°Oh yes,¡± she said without hesitation. ¡°The deals made between your family and Summers and Winters go back centuries, and are literally iron-clad. You can trust him without reservation.¡± She planted her hands on her hips. ¡°But don¡¯t go trusting any other Sidhe just because your only experience with them is through him. He¡¯s not a good example of what they can be like. You just let me do the talking if we encounter any other Sidhe before you¡¯ve learned more about them!¡±


    I suspected that might be disastrous, but since I didn¡¯t think I was likely to run into any in the near future, I just smiled and nodded. ¡°Thank you, Sparkle.¡±


    She beamed up at me with that ¡®I¡¯m helping!¡¯ look on her face again. It was adorable. I smiled, picked up the handset again and started dialing. I was even more nervous about this call.


    ¡°Professor Levin,¡± a woman¡¯s voice said after two rings.


    ¡°Sheila? It¡¯s Caley,¡± I said slowly.


    ¡°Caitlyn Reid,¡± she said in a gently chastising tone, ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting to hear from you. Are you okay? Are you in some kind of trouble?¡±


    She sounded genuinely worried, and I felt guilty as a result. She was a good friend, maybe the only real friend I''d had before meeting Ken and Sparkle. ¡°I¡¯m fine, honest. I hope I''m not bothering you this late¡­¡±


    ¡°Not at all,¡± she said. ¡°I wouldn''t have given you my private line if I didn''t want you to use it. Now, tell me everything so I know you''re really all right.¡±


    So I told her - in broad, non-specific terms - about my father, and my inheritance, and the town. I was careful to leave out anything¡­weird.


    When I finished, she whistled softly. ¡°So, what, you¡¯re like the local laird or something?¡±


    I laughed. ¡°I don¡¯t think so, though I do own a ridiculous amount of land out here, and the House is enormous. And¡­I think there are some things that the people in town are expecting me to take care of. I¡¯m still figuring everything out. It¡¯s a big estate, and a lot of responsibility.¡±


    ¡°I guess it must be,¡± she said. ¡°And I¡¯m guessing you want me to withdraw you from classes this semester.¡±


    ¡°Definitely,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯d never make it back in time to catch up, even if I wanted to.¡±


    ¡°Found a new passion, eh?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said firmly. ¡°There¡¯s so much to learn here, and I have some distant relatives in town¡­¡± I trailed off, not sure how to explain without getting into specifics that she wouldn¡¯t believe for an instant.


    ¡°You¡¯re not feeling trapped by all of this, are you, Caley? If you are, there must be some way you can hand those responsibilities off to someone else, whatever they are.¡±


    I sat back in my father¡¯s big, comfortable chair, surprised by the question and equally surprised that I hadn¡¯t asked myself the same thing yet. ¡°I¡­¡± I hesitated and thought about it. Really thought about it.


    Shelia let me, staying on the line in supportive silence.


    Was I? I didn¡¯t feel trapped. Overwhelmed, yes, but not trapped. And the idea of leaving Ken - and probably Sparkle, since I wasn¡¯t sure if I could safely take her with me back into the mundane world - was just awful. Not to mention the House. How could I possibly leave this incredible House and everything it had to show me?


    Finally, I said, ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so. You¡¯d think I might, but I don¡¯t feel trapped. I feel the weight of responsibility, even though I don¡¯t completely understand it yet, and I¡¯m a bit overwhelmed by everything¡­¡± I looked at Sparkle, now sitting cross-legged on the blotter and watching me. ¡°But I have some people around to help me adjust, I¡¯m making new friends, and the idea of leaving now when there¡¯s so much to see and do and learn¡­just feels incredibly wrong.¡±


    Sparkle beamed up at me.


    ¡°Does that make any sense?¡± I asked.


    Sheila laughed softly. ¡°Yeah, it kinda does. And it¡¯s very you. I want you to promise me that you¡¯ll keep in touch, though, and let me know if you start feeling trapped there.¡±


    ¡°I promise!¡± I said earnestly. ¡°Just as soon as I get an Internet connection hooked up out here, you¡¯ll start getting regular emails from me. Until then, you might have to settle for a letter once in a while.¡±


    ¡°A letter?¡± she asked in feigned ignorance. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Ha ha,¡± I said, smiling.


    I could almost see her shaking her head. ¡°All right, kiddo. I hate to lose you as a student, but you do you. I am glad to hear you¡¯re making new friends, though. I always said you were too isolated. I¡¯ll have to come out and see this house of yours when there¡¯s time. Maybe over the summer.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like that,¡± I said, even as I wondered if it was a good idea. ¡°I can promise you that this place will blow your mind.¡±

 Chapter 21

    I woke up the next morning with my mind full to bursting with a seemingly endless lesson on Evocation magic and how to safely manage my lightning spells. It had been such a long lesson - and an even longer conversation to help me pick apart the details - that it lingered, disorienting me a bit, the way an intense dream will if you wake up in the middle of it.


    I sat up slowly and rubbed my temples, trying to convince my brain to digest the information and let it settle back into my memory. It wasn¡¯t an entirely unpleasant sensation, but left me feeling a bit¡­jumbled.


    Sparkle fluttered down from her nightlight and settled on my blanket-covered knee. ¡°Are you okay, Mistress?¡±


    I gave her a little smile and nodded. ¡°I¡¯m fine, Sparkle. There¡¯s just a lot going on in my head.¡±


    She giggled and sat down. ¡°When Mistress Chessie felt like that, she used to go sit in the field outside and play with the fairies.¡±


    ¡°Ken said it wasn¡¯t safe for me to do that yet,¡± I said uncertainly.


    Sparkle considered that, apparently with the utmost gravity, to judge by her very serious expression. After a moment she nodded a little. ¡°You don¡¯t know as much about the Otherworld as Mistress Chessie did, so I guess he¡¯s right.¡±


    I leaned forward a little and rested my arms on my thighs as I looked at her. ¡°The Otherworld?¡±


    ¡°Mmhm!¡± She nodded eagerly. ¡°The Otherworld is what¡¯s outside your windows. Mortals sometimes call it the Spirit World, but I¡¯m not a spirit, and I¡¯m from the Otherworld. So are a lot of the monsters that have bothered mortals since the beginning of time! It¡¯s¡­¡± She gestured to the windows. ¡°It¡¯s the Otherworld.¡±


    I looked at her as I tried to formulate a way to ask her more questions in such a way that we wouldn¡¯t end up running in circles. After a minute, I gave it up as a bad job¡­I wasn¡¯t awake enough. ¡°Sparkle, could you do me a favor?¡±


    She almost seemed to levitate to her feet, she rose so quickly. ¡°Of course, Mistress!¡±


    I hesitated, then shrugged a little. There was nothing for it but to ask. ¡°I was wondering¡­would you call me Caley instead of ¡®Mistress¡¯?¡±


    She looked at me quizzically. ¡°But you¡¯re my Mistress.¡± She pointed to the ring on my hand. ¡°I belong to you.¡±


    I nibbled on my bottom lip for a moment. ¡°But¡­I¡¯d like you to be my friend, Sparkle, not just a¡­a servant. Please?¡±


    She almost seemed to vibrate, her gentle purple glow brightening a bit. ¡°I¡­I¡¯m your friend¡­and your servant¡­¡± she said, not uncertainly, but as if trying to understand why I wanted this.


    I smiled gently. ¡°Sparkle, I¡¯m not used to having servants. I really appreciate the help, and can accept that I¡¯m in charge, but¡­I feel very strange having people call me mistress. If neither you nor Ken use my name, I might forget it.¡±


    I added that last bit teasingly, but from the look of horror that settled onto her face I thought I had hit a nerve. ¡°Oh no! We can¡¯t have that! Names are important!¡± Her expression shifted from alarm to shy happiness. ¡°You really want me to use your name, Mistress?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Please, Sparkle. It would mean a lot to me. I want us to be the best of friends.¡±


    Her purple glow brightened another notch as she smiled up at me radiantly, and I swear she actually grew a centimeter or two before she replied, ¡°Thank you, Caley!¡± She collided with my chest an instant later and clung to my sleep shirt in what passed for a hug, then zoomed around the room a few times.


    Ken entered during her aerobatics and gave me a curious look.


    ¡°I asked her to call me by name,¡± I said, shrugging.


    He laughed. ¡°Ah. Yes, I can see how that would make her happy. It¡¯s a big deal to fairies.¡±


    ¡°What about you?¡± I asked, then hesitated for a moment, feeling unaccountably shy as I added, ¡°I know you felt there was some matter of propriety involved, but¡­I think we''ve gotten to know one another well enough by now for you to use my name. I mean, if you want to.¡±


    Ken smiled warmly, and - much the way Sparkle had grown a bit - his physical form seemed to take on greater definition. A little bit of color even leaked into his shirt and jeans, which now appeared to be faintly green and blue respectively. ¡°Thank you, Caley. I would like that very much.¡±


    I thought there might be relief in his voice, and wondered if he was still worried about me cracking and doing a runner.


    But then, I was still wondering that myself. It wasn¡¯t impossible. The human psyche wasn¡¯t really built to handle so many world-changing revelations in such a short time.


    Well, never mind. I¡¯d handled it so far, I¡¯d continue as I¡¯d begun.


    "Ken, can you clarify something for me?" I asked, curling my legs under me and sitting up a bit straighter.


    "If I can, I will," he said.


    "Sparkle was just telling me about the Otherworld, outside my windows. But¡­I''m afraid it didn''t make a lot of sense to me."


    Sparkle huffed and plopped down in my lap. "I did my best," she sulked.


    I patted the top of her head gently. "Yes you did, but you know I still have a lot to learn. It helps me to learn from both of you."


    She beamed up at me. "That makes sense!"


    Ken and I exchanged smiles, then he drifted toward the window a bit. "Otherworld is a broadly general term for the dimension that exists alongside the¡­the real world, for lack of a better term." He turned to face me again, lips pursed and frowning a bit. "Rather like ''Earth'' describes out world, and then we name nations, Otherworld is¡­it''s the connective tissue that holds many other realms together. Outside your window is Faerie, the realm of the Sidhe, and the nearest portions of Otherworld, at least to the House.


    "But it has many other names, as well," Ken continued, spreading his arms wide. "Wonderland, Arcadia, the Ghostlands, Outworld, Faerie, Barsoom, Lilliput, the Dreamlands, pick one of a dozen names for an ''unreal'' place that still very much exists. It doesn''t matter what you call it because only a few beings know it''s true name and you''d best hope never to meet them. But as a general term, ''Otherworld'' has been its collective name for longer than the House has stood."


    I stared at him. Most of those names had meant at least something to me, as both a student of history and an avid reader of fiction. Faerie I could accept, especially since I had one of its residents sitting in my lap. And Dreamtime, as a place as much as a creation myth, was also surprisingly easy to accept the existence of. But had he really just said that places like Wonderland, Barsoom, and Lilliput were real?


    Were Dejah Thoris, John Carter and Tars Tarkas still going on adventures somewhere outside my window? Or perhaps Alice was having tea with the Mad Hatter? Perhaps some part of H.P. Lovecraft was living a peaceful afterlife in Ulthar, surrounded by the town''s beloved cats.


    "Wait a second," I said. "I''ve read Burroughs. Barsoom was just his name for Mars."


    Ken smiled, obviously amused. "Astral projection to Mars with what, a corporeal body made of ectoplasm? Don''t be silly."


    Because that was somehow more unbelievable than being transported to¡­what? Some kind of parallel plane of existence?


    "Not everything you read is true when it comes to Otherworld and its denizens," Ken continued. "In fact, most of it isn''t. It can''t be, really. Most of the places and things in Otherworld either can''t be understood well enough for mortals to fully describe them, or are simply too¡­mercurial¡­to be defined by language for long. But parts of the truth can sometimes be found in myths and fiction."


    Wow. That was a mind-bending concept. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, hoping to stave off the impending headache. After a moment, it faded, and I looked at Ken. "In practical terms, what does this mean for me?"


    He smiled gently. "At the moment, very little. In the long term, also very little. Aside from the residents of Faerie, very few of the denizens of Otherworld ever visit our world."


    That was a relief. And¡­perhaps just a hint of disappointment too? Perhaps I could go looking for those places someday. Intellectually, I knew that it would likely be dangerous¡­none of the locations Ken mentioned had ever been safe places in the stories about the, but the lure of them was powerful. To visit Ulthar and its cats. Or to walk the streets of the city-state of Helium, the jewel of Barsoom¡­


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    Was this why Sister Sarah had gotten me into reading Sci-Fi and Fantasy? Had she known? Or had she just wanted to help me escape the dreary reality of the orphanage in the only way she really could.


    I shook my head a little. The past was past, and exploring potentially dangerous places was a distant future that I was definitely not prepared to give any thought. So I put it out of my mind, swung my legs out of bed and rose, stretching. ¡°Good, now that that¡¯s settled, what¡¯s on the agenda for this morning?¡±


    ¡°I thought we¡¯d take a stab at casting a genuine bolt of lightning,¡± Ken said.


    I blinked at him. ¡°Is that¡­safe?¡±


    ¡°Perfectly,¡± he said with a nod. ¡°I have a target in mind for you that should eliminate the potential for any damage, and the lab -¡°


    I held up a finger, cutting him off mid-word.


    Ken sighed. ¡°Workshop¡­is perfectly capable of absorbing any errant spell energy.¡±


    ¡°What about everything in it?¡±


    He hesitated.


    ¡°That¡¯s what I thought,¡± I said, heading for the bathroom. ¡°Let me get dressed and have a spot of breakfast, then we¡¯ll see. I¡¯d appreciate it if you wouldn¡¯t completely exhaust me though¡­I still want to go into town this evening.¡±


    Ken tipped his head, then smiled. ¡°Ah yes. Darts night at the Oak & Ivy. That¡¯ll be a good way for you to start making some connections within the community.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Mr. O¡¯Day thought so too.¡±


    ¡°Good! I¡¯ll try not to wear you out too much.¡±


    Once I was dressed and fed, we made our way down to the workshop, where Ken unveiled his master plan.


    ¡°That,¡± I said, looking at the new object in the center of the room, from which he had just whipped a concealing drop cloth, ¡°is a Tesla coil.¡±


    Ken nodded, beaming at me. ¡°It most certainly is! This is going to be your target from now on while you¡¯re learning to cast lightning. It¡¯ll draw your lightning spells to it and ground them, so they won¡¯t do any damage to anything until we¡¯re ready to try actively destroying something.¡±


    I sat down on one of the stools and look at him. ¡°Ken¡­¡±


    ¡°You have your mother¡¯s shield ring to defend yourself with,¡± he said, ¡°and that¡¯s an excellent start.¡±


    ¡°Ken¡­¡± I tried again.


    ¡°Defending yourself,¡± he rolled on, pacing a little, obviously prepared to try and steamroll any arguments I might have, ¡°is not just about being able to stop an incoming attack or spell effect. Sometimes, you need to strike first, and you most certainly will need to know how to retaliate.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the hard part for me to process,¡± I said, finally getting a word in edgewise. ¡°I¡¯m a peaceful person, Ken. I¡¯ve always avoided conflict. I mean¡­I dropped out of fencing after two semesters of it at university because even though I was enjoying the discipline of it, it was becoming too competitive, and I was uncomfortable with that. I¡¯ve certainly never attacked anybody!¡±


    Ken looked at me for a long moment, then sighed. ¡°Your mother was the same way when she started learning combat magic, and she¡¯d had years to get used to the idea. Part of being the Guardian is defending this House. Once the outside world realizes it¡¯s inhabited again - and is thus potentially vulnerable beyond a brute force assault - there will be attempts.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± I asked, starting to feel frustrated. ¡°You still haven¡¯t told me what¡¯s so special about this House.¡±


    Ken and Sparkle, who¡¯d settled on a nearby stack of books, both stared at me blankly.


    ¡°I mean, beyond the obvious,¡± I added, feeling a bit silly. ¡°Granted, there¡¯s an apparently bottomless pit of knowledge to be plumbed here, but that can¡¯t be the only reason this House needs to be defended. It seems, from what I¡¯ve seen and heard, that it¡¯d be pretty good at doing that by itself.¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°True, on all counts.¡± He sighed. ¡°All right. I was going to hold off explaining this a bit longer, until you had more of the basics under your belt¡­so bear with me, because this is complicated.¡±


    ¡°Boil it down to basics,¡± I said gently. ¡°Save the technical details for later.¡±


    Ken considered that for a long moment, then nodded again. ¡°All right. The House sits on a convergence of about a dozen Ley Lines - pathways through which magical energy flows -¡°


    I held up a hand to forestall the explanation. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of Ley Lines before in fantasy literature and games. It¡¯s probably sufficient for now that I know they¡¯re real.¡±


    Ken blinked a couple of times, then nodded. ¡°Of course. So¡­there are two major Ley Lines that converge here, and ten other smaller ones. In fact, there is reason to believe that at least three of those actually begin here rather than passing through.¡± He paused to see if I was following so far.


    I nodded. ¡°All right, so that means that there¡¯s an enormous amount of magical energy that can be tapped into here, if you know how.¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°Essentially, yes. That¡¯s correct.¡±


    ¡°All right,¡± I said, ¡°so I¡¯m the owner and protector of a seemingly bottomless pit of knowledge and power. I can see why people would covet that.¡±


    ¡°Not bottomless,¡± Ken said with a little smile, ¡°but certainly immense.¡±


    ¡°How immense?¡± I asked.


    Ken pursed his lips and considered that. ¡°I don¡¯t want to scare you, Caley, but the easiest way to get the point across is to speak in terms of destructive potential.¡±


    I nodded, my stomach turning a little. ¡°All right. Go ahead.¡±


    ¡°On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being a firecracker and 10 being the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima,¡± Ken said slowly, ¡°the amount of potential energy available to be effortlessly tapped here is somewhere in the neighborhood of 50.¡±


    It took a moment for that to sink in. My hands and feet felt a little cold and tingly.


    ¡°With a bit of effort, that could scale up to 100 or so,¡± Ken said quietly. ¡°With a major effort, you might be able to tap enough energy to take a large chunk out of the Moon.¡±


    I put my hand on the nearest workbench to steady myself, feeling a bit light-headed. ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why I was trying to approach this more obliquely,¡± Ken said gently. ¡°On top of that, one of your ancestors - before the House was built - accidentally opened what she called a Nexus of Realities here. The House was originally built to cap that and keep it from spreading, which is why the House itself is, to some extent, dimensionally fluid.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why it¡¯s bigger on the inside,¡± I said. My voice sounded kind of far away.


    Sparkle was suddenly right in my face, her wings a purple blur behind her, her little hands touching my cheeks. ¡°Caley, it¡¯s okay, take a deep breath.¡±


    I did, resisting the urge to try and focus on her, not wanting to go cross-eyed. After a few deep breaths the world sort of snapped back into focus, the tingling in my hands and feet started to fade, and I realized I¡¯d been pretty close to a panic attack. ¡°Okay,¡± I said quietly. ¡°I¡¯m okay.¡±


    Sparkle backed off a bit and looked at me closely - I was, at least, able to focus on her now - before nodding. ¡°Okay¡­¡±


    I gave her a small smile. ¡°Thank you, Sparkle.¡±


    She beamed, that adorable ¡®I¡¯m helping¡¯ expression appearing on her face again. ¡°You¡¯re welcome, Caley!¡± She flitted back over to her mound of books.


    ¡°It is,¡± Ken said, watching me carefully, ¡°of course, incredibly unwise to try to tap the available power here without being very well prepared to do so. And yes, that¡¯s why the House is bigger on the inside. It¡¯s also why many of the doors go to other places.¡±


    ¡°Not just around the world, I take it,¡± I said, feeling intuitively certain I was on the right track.


    Ken nodded. ¡°Correct.¡±


    ¡°Which is why all of the doors in the House are locked, unless I unlock them,¡± I said.


    ¡°Also correct,¡± Ken said. ¡°It¡¯s a defensive measure, both to protect the house, and to protect the Guardian¡­until you¡¯re really ready to start actively managing things here.¡±


    ¡°And part of that,¡± I said, breathing slowly to keep my roiling stomach under control, ¡°is learning how to protect myself and the House.¡±


    Ken simply nodded.


    ¡°If it makes you feel any better,¡± Sparkle interjected, ¡°Mistress Chessie told me she¡¯d had a couple of panic attacks early in her education about the House too.¡±


    I smiled at Sparkle. ¡°Actually, that does make me feel better.¡± I looked back at Ken. ¡°This is a lot to take in.¡±


    Ken spread his hands. ¡°That¡¯s why I was trying to take my time about getting to it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not the first time I¡¯ve tried to take a bigger bite of the knowledge pie than I could chew,¡± I said, carefully compartmentalizing the new information in my mind and forcefully shoving my nerves and unease down. I wanted to stay here, to set down roots in this place that had been my parents¡¯ home. That meant accepting this and growing beyond who I''d been up ''till now. I could do that.


    I wondered how much more I¡¯d be able to process before I needed a break.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said slowly, ¡°so, dial it back down to knowing next to nothing.¡±


    Ken smiled. ¡°We¡¯re going to try your taser spell again.¡± He gestured to the Tesla coil. ¡°And once you have that down, we¡¯ll try something a bit bigger. So, remember what you learned yesterday -¡°


    Had it really only been yesterday? It felt longer somehow.


    ¡°- and cast your fulparum spell.¡±


    I gave myself a little shake and concentrated on the Tesla coil.


    ¡°Remember,¡± Ken said quietly, ¡°to moderate just how much energy you channel into the spell, and how vigorously you cast it, as represented by the verbal focus.¡±


    I took a deep breath and let it out. ¡°All right. I can do this.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you can!¡± Sparkle said encouragingly.


    I lifted my right hand, curled it into a fist, and then extended my first two fingers and pointed them at the Tesla coil. I envisioned a spark of electricity arcing from my fingertips to the steel sphere at the top. I felt the energy gathering in my hand, and envisioned it flowing the way water flows from a garden hose. I put a mental thumb over the end of the mental hose, forcing the flow of energy down to a trickle.


    Then I gave my hand a little thrust towards the Tesla coil, said ¡°Fulparum,¡± and cast the spell.


    At the last moment, I felt my control over the mental garden hose slip, and a torrent of energy rushed into the spell, far more than I¡¯d intended. More than I¡¯d even realized I had access to.


    What leaped from my fingertips was not a small spark, but rather a small bolt of lightning. There was a sharp crack and for a moment the room was cast into harsh relief by the blinding light of the electricity that arced between my fingertips at the Tesla coil.


    With a loud *BANG*, the bolt of lightning smashed through one side of the sphere and out the other, before arcing back into the metal as smaller streamers of electricity before I could cut off the flow of energy. As soon as I did, the lightning vanished.


    At the same time, the electrical outlet that the Tesla coil was plugged into - to help ground it - sparked violently and lit on fire. The power cord itself melted and split.


    Fortunately, no pieces of metal went flying.


    ¡°Holy shit!¡± Ken blurted out, bolting for a nearby fire extinguisher.


    Sparkle and I just stared in wide-eyed silence at the remains of the Tesla coil as Ken put out the little fire burning at the outlet. I slowly lowered my hand and sat down on the nearest available stool.


    Sparkle whistled appreciatively, then giggled and clapped her hands together. ¡°That was so cool! Do it again!¡±


    ¡°I think,¡± Ken said as he put the fire extinguisher down and examined the remains of the Tesla coil, ¡°that I might be rushing things.¡±


    ¡°You think?¡± I asked weakly.


    He turned his attention to me. ¡°How do you feel? You look a bit pale.¡±


    ¡°A little bit light-headed and winded,¡± I said, feeling a bit dazed, ¡°like I ran up a couple of flights of stairs.¡±


    Ken nodded slowly. ¡°That¡¯s not bad, considering what just happened.¡± He turned his attention back to the Tesla coil and folded his arms. ¡°I believe that you instinctively mixed some force magic into that spell, along with the electricity. Perhaps,¡± he said after a moment, ¡°we should focus on control for the time being, until you get a better feel for controlling the raw power you have available to you.¡±


    I nodded slowly as my head started to clear, looking at the ruined Tesla coil. ¡°My god,¡± I said after a moment, ¡°I did that?¡±


    Sparkle giggled. ¡°You sure did! Emphatically!¡±


    Ken and I looked at one another, and I knew that he was thinking the same thing I was. Sparkle had enjoyed the show, but I was shaken by it. Intellectually, I understood that I had some destructive potential at my fingertips¡­but I had just seen a demonstration of how much, and what could happen if my control of that power wasn¡¯t up to snuff.

 Chapter 22

    ¡°From what she told me about her early training,¡± Sparkle offered helpfully from where she stood atop a stack of books, ¡°Mistress Chessie¡¯s practical lessons started out a lot more slowly. Wind, then levitation, basic telekinesis, some minor Transfiguration and simple charms¡­¡±


    ¡°Master James¡¯s instructions were quite clear on the subject,¡± Ken said firmly. ¡°Caley¡¯s mind is much more organized and orderly than Mistress Chessie¡¯s was. She¡¯s absorbing the theory at a tremendous rate during our lessons while she¡¯s asleep -¡°


    ¡°Just because I¡¯ve started walking doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m ready to try riding a unicycle,¡± I interrupted him. That weird jumbled feeling I¡¯d woken up with still hadn¡¯t gone away completely. Combined with the stress - and relief - of having decided on a course of action the previous evening, and the general weirdness I had struggled to encompass since arriving at the House, it was rapidly turning into frustration. ¡°If there¡¯s a normal structure for teaching magic, shouldn¡¯t we follow that? There must be a reason for it.¡±


    Ken waved that off dismissively. ¡°Mistress Chessie required additional lessons that you never will. Today, she¡¯d probably be categorized as having ADHD, and would have been taught differently. You, on the other hand, have a mind like a dry sponge -¡°


    I cut him off again. ¡°And didn¡¯t grow up surrounded by all of this,¡± I gestured around me, struggling to keep my temper under control. That was unusual for me¡­normally, I was so level-headed that some of my teachers had wondered if I ever got frustrated at all. I did, of course. Everyone does. ¡°Ken, I haven¡¯t even been here a whole week yet! Even if it does feel longer than that sometimes.¡±


    Ken pursed his lips.


    Sparkle zipped over and perched on my shoulder. I tipped my head and tried to look at her, but it was quite impossible, so I gave up. I was pretty sure I felt her little foot tapping impatiently, though. I imagined her with her hands on her hips and an irritated look on her cute little face. ¡°Caley isn¡¯t Mistress Chessie! And while Master James no doubt had excellent ideas for her training, he¡¯s not here.¡± She stomped her foot with each word, tiny little impacts. ¡°He didn¡¯t know how Caley would handle any of this, not really!¡±


    Ken blinked in surprise and shifted his attention from her to me.


    ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± I said softly. ¡°All I know of my father is what I¡¯ve read in his letter, that one journal entry, and what you and Sparkle have told me about him. How much did he really know about me? He never saw me again after he sent me to live at the orphanage, did he? All he had were Sister Sarah¡¯s progress reports to go on. And this¡­this is all so much stranger than anything I ever studied in school.


    ¡°A lot of what I¡¯m learning is forcing me to reassess reality Ken, at least as I¡¯ve always understood it,¡± I continued before he could say anything. ¡°I¡¯m doing my best, but¡­Ken, you still haven¡¯t really told me what it means to be the Guardian. Just hints here and there. I have little pieces of an absolutely enormous puzzle, and you want me to throw lightning around! A week ago, I would¡¯ve said that was impossible for anyone whose last name wasn¡¯t Tesla.¡±


    ¡°But Caley -¡° he began.


    ¡°No,¡± I said flatly. ¡°You seem to think there¡¯s some kind of threat hovering ominously behind me, waiting to chew me up and spit me out. I understand that my father thought that too. But I haven¡¯t seen any sign of anything like that since I arrived!¡±


    Except maybe that old black Bentley and its rather sinister driver, but come on, that was probably just a coincidence. Right?


    I felt a little frisson of unease, but my frustration had boiled over already. ¡°I need to clear my head. I¡¯m going to go wander around the house, and later I¡¯m going down to the pub. Let¡¯s try again, with something less violent please, tomorrow morning.¡±


    Ken hesitated, then nodded. ¡°All right. Would you like me to -¡°


    ¡°No. Just¡­let me wander.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll stay with her,¡± Sparkle told him reassuringly from the vicinity of my left ear.


    ¡°Sparkle,¡± I began, really wanting to be alone for a few minutes.


    ¡°Nope!¡± She broke in quickly before I could say anything. ¡°That¡¯s not optional. Where you go, I go.¡±


    I very briefly considered saying something, but¡­no. It was Ken I was frustrated with and, by proxy, my father and his assumptions about me. Sparkle was just looking out for me. ¡°All right,¡± I said softly, and headed for the door.


    ¡°Call for me if you need anything,¡± Ken said quietly as I stepped out into the hallway.


    I nodded without looking back at him. ¡°I will.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t honestly trying to hurt him, though I undoubtedly had, at least a little. I just¡­


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Sparkle said very softly as I picked a direction at random and started walking. ¡°I¡¯m sure he understands. He¡¯s very smart. I bet he¡¯s already creating a whole new lesson plan for you.¡±


    I huffed a little laugh. ¡°I¡¯ll bet you¡¯re right.¡±


    Since I wasn¡¯t looking for any room in particular, the House presented me with no special guidance. I just walked, Sparkle holding lightly to my earlobe for balance. I walked down hallways, up staircases, down staircases, past landscape paintings, portraits of people I had never seen before, and nooks holding antiques from all over the world. All of them would have been worth stopping to examine, but I felt like moving and - using a technique that had worked for me before when I was frustrated about something - paid such close attention to the movements of my body that I was able to not think for a while.


    It¡¯s a good way to clear your head when you¡¯re feeling the way I was.


    Sparkle, bless her, remained - for the first time since we¡¯d met, aside from when we were sleeping - utterly silent. I couldn¡¯t imagine how hard it must¡¯ve been for her.


    After a while though, the silence began to get to me, and my brain began to shift back into gear. ¡°Was I too hard on him?¡± I asked her.


    ¡°Nope!¡± She said immediately. ¡°He¡¯s awfully eager for you to learn to defend yourself. And that¡¯s not a bad thing. You¡¯ve gotten a glimpse into what lies beyond what mortals consider to be the ¡®real world.¡¯¡± She said the words just a little bit mockingly. ¡°Eventually, you¡¯re going to learn to straddle the line between mundane ¡®reality¡¯ and the Otherworld, and there¡¯s all kinds of things out there in the dark that love to hunt and kill anything that¡¯s weaker than they are.


    ¡°Sooner or later,¡± she continued, hopping off my shoulder and fluttering around my head before settling into a graceful bobbing glide beside me, ¡°everyone who¡¯s touched by the Otherworld is threatened by something that lives in it. Little children understand that instinctively¡­weren¡¯t you ever afraid of something lurking under your bed or in your closet?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± I said. ¡°Every child is.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because children are naturally more sensitive to the supernatural and paranormal than adults. As you mortals grow up, you¡­you¡­¡± She zipped in little circle, making a gesture I took to be frustration as she tried to find the right words. ¡°You kinda¡­calcify. You harden yourselves to not see the bigger picture. I don¡¯t get it.¡± She somehow managed to shrug even as her tiny wings continued to blur behind her. I couldn¡¯t imagine how those muscles would work.


    Maybe there weren¡¯t any. Maybe her wings were pure magic. Another question to add to the mental to do list, to be transferred to a physical list at the first opportunity.


    ¡°But you can¡¯t afford that,¡± Sparkle went on, putting her confusion behind her. ¡°You¡¯re the Guardian¡­you¡¯re going to be really well known in parts of the Otherworld, and eventually to mortals who¡¯re clued in. Things are going to come looking for you, for all kinds of reasons, and most everything that lives in the Otherworld learns how to fight in some way or other. Why, even we pixies are taught at a young age how to defend ourselves against predators!¡±


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    I stopped in the middle of the hallway. ¡°Even you, Sparkle?¡±


    ¡°Oh, sure,¡± she said airily, waving it off as if it were of no consequence. ¡°Before I met Mistress Chessie, I fought in a clan war against some Redcaps that lived not too far from one of the doors to the House on the other side of the Border. I was injured in the last battle before they were driven away, which was the first time I met Mistress Chessie. She came out with her mother to help heal some of us in thanks for defending the door. She was really young then.¡±


    I tipped my head a little. ¡°Redcaps? Like the fairy tales?¡±


    ¡°Uh huh!¡± Sparkle blurred in a circle. ¡°Nasty little creatures that¡¯re related to dwarves and goblins. But don¡¯t go saying that to either¡­Dwarves won¡¯t claim them, and goblins are afraid of them.¡± She giggled. ¡°Which is really saying something. Goblins are nasty. But Redcaps are nastier. They like to dye their hats in human blood.¡±


    I nodded, remembering the old stories, and sighed. ¡°It¡¯d be easier to accept if I had a bit more lead-in time.¡±


    She came to a halt, hovering in front of my face, just far enough away for me to be able to focus on her easily. I could see the sympathy in every line of her pretty face. Even the tips of her pointed ears seemed to be drooping a bit. ¡°I know, Caley. You¡¯ve been¡­what was the expression Master James used to use? Um¡­Thrown in at the dark end?¡±


    I smiled. ¡°Deep end.¡±


    ¡°Right!¡± She beamed. ¡°Thrown in at the deep end.¡± She tipped her head. ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡±


    I laughed a little. ¡°It references the worst possible way to learn how to swim. Being thrown into the deepest part of the pool with no experience.¡±


    Her eyes widened. ¡°Oh wow. Yeah, that would be awful.¡± Then she nodded. ¡°But that is kinda what¡¯s happened to you. But only kinda. You still have time to learn to protect yourself.¡±


    ¡°And I should use that time wisely,¡± I said with a sigh. ¡°But first, I think I need to better understand what being the Guardian really means.¡±


    Sparkle pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips, frowning. Even frowning, she was adorable.


    After a moment, her face lit up. ¡°I know! You need to visit the garden! That¡¯ll help you understand!¡± She zipped around behind me and I felt her thump against my back between my shoulder blades and start to push. ¡°Go on! I¡¯ll show you where it is!¡±


    I laughed and started walking. ¡°All right, Sparkle. Lead the way.¡±


    Sparkle stopped pushing and zoomed over my shoulder and out ahead of me in a streak of purple light. She led me down hallways for several minutes, and I somehow felt that we were moving deeper into the house¡­that the outside was getting further away. It was a fascinating sensation.


    We finally reached a pair of heavy oak doors banded in thick iron. They looked old, and a large lock with a big, heavy-looking, old-fashioned dangling iron loop of a door knob on the right-hand door kept them shut. I pulled the Master Key on its chain out from my necklace and hesitated.


    ¡°That lock looks way too big for this key,¡± I said to Sparkle.


    She giggled. ¡°It¡¯ll work. Go ahead.¡±


    I did. The Master Key was almost comically small compared to the ancient-looking keyhole in the lock, but when I slid it in I felt the lock grip it as I¡¯d come to expect. I turned it, felt the usual ratcheting sensation, and heard the big old deadbolt slide open with a clunk.


    Shrugging mentally, I pulled the Key free and let the chain retract into my choker. Then I grabbed the big iron ring, gave it a turn - it was awkward, and I ended up having to work it with both hands to get leverage - and opened the door.


    Onto a sight that, even having seen the aquarium, made my mouth drop open as astonishment flashed through me.


    The room - and I call it a ¡®room¡¯ in the loosest sense of the term - was an enormous indoor garden. The floor was natural grass, thick, lush, and vividly green, with neatly laid flagstone paths running through it here and there.


    From where I stood in the opening, I could see flower beds filled with every type of flower I was familiar with and many more that I wasn¡¯t¡­everything from common daisies to lush rose bushes and gorgeous hibiscus flowers. There were enormous pink and white peonies, yellow daffodils, and tulips in every shade imaginable. I saw Lilies of the Valley, several varieties of orchid, and even a double-row of tall sunflowers.


    There were bushes - flowering and non-flowering - and small evergreens, rhododendron, lilacs, poppies, and more and more and more. At the furthest edges I could see what looked like the panes of glass walls enclosing the room, rising to a glass ceiling that had to be four stories tall.


    And in the center of everything was an enormous old oak tree, its branches spreading out to shelter everything in the room that didn¡¯t need direct sunlight. Its roots - ancient and thick - pushed up through the grass all around it. Its leaves were large, green, and healthy, as though it were mid-summer in the room and not early winter.


    ¡°Wow,¡± I said quietly, stepping into the room and following the smooth stone path that led from the doors. ¡°Sparkle, this is incredible!¡±


    She nodded, flitting along beside me. ¡°Some of my clan used to live in here and help tend to the flowers. I don¡¯t know if they¡¯re still here, though.¡±


    I ignored the doors swinging shut behind me - I was getting used to that - and looked around. Somehow, I was not surprised to see both an old-fashioned charcoal grill and a lawn set - round metal table, four padded chairs, and two reclining deck chairs - on a flagstone patio off to one side. I immediately resolved to make use of them, though I¡¯d never used a grill before myself.


    ¡°Well,¡± a warm contralto voice said from somewhere nearby, ¡°This is a pleasant surprise. It has been many a season since anyone came to visit me.¡±


    I glanced around, and spotted Sparkle nodding to the tree. I turned my attention to it and walked a bit closer.


    And almost jumped back in surprise as a woman melted out of the trunk, approached, and paused several steps away from me. She was¡­she was gorgeous. Not too thin, not too heavy, and shaped like a classical Greek statue of femininity, all smooth curves and graceful lines. Her skin was a very pale shade of green, and she was covered from neck to wrists and ankles in a thin, flexible, perfectly form-fitting suit of bark that matched the surface of the tree. Her hair was long, curly, and as green as the tree¡¯s leaves, and her lips were the same shade.


    Her eyes were a piercing, brilliant amber color, and sparkled with joy and warmth. She was a few inches taller than me, but as I watched she shrank until she was at eye-level with me.


    She smiled. ¡°You look so much like your mother, but you have your grandmother¡¯s eyes.¡± She bowed deeply, spreading her arms in a formal, courtly style. ¡°Lady Caitlyn Reid, Guardian, welcome home, and welcome to my garden.¡±


    I curtsied politely in return, then examined her again, utterly fascinated. ¡°Are you a dryad?¡±


    She beamed. ¡°A hamadryad, actually, but it¡¯s a common mistake and one I take no offense to. My cousins are a bit flightier than my sisters and I, but every bit as dedicated to the preservation of nature. The major difference is that my sisters and I are part of our specific tree, where dryads are representative of types of trees and not bound to them.¡±


    I thought there was sadness in her voice as she spoke.


    ¡°May I ask your name?¡± I asked carefully, not sure if I was being impolite.


    She laughed, evidently delighted by the question. ¡°My name is Oak,¡± she gestured to the enormous oak tree, ¡°and this is my tree. But your great-great-great-grandmother called me Dara, which is Gaelic for ¡®of the oak.¡¯¡± She winked. ¡°I think she thought she was being funny, but it is a perfectly appropriate name for me. And so you may call me Dara.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Dara. Please, call me Caley.¡± I offered her my hand.


    Dara took it, clasping it in both of hers. Her skin felt like supple leather, but with an odd texture to it, and I couldn¡¯t help but look. The texture looked for all the world like the inner rings of a tree, starting at her fingertips and working their way back to her wrist where they vanished under her bark catsuit. ¡°It will be my great pleasure to do so,¡± she said warmly. ¡°I do hope you¡¯ll visit my garden often. Here,¡± she released my hand and turned, spreading her arms, ¡°you may find the peace and tranquility of nature in this, a more controlled setting.¡±


    Sparkle flitted forward. ¡°Hello, Dara!¡±


    The hamadryad turned and beamed. ¡°Sparkle, darling! It¡¯s wonderful to see you again! I take it you have been passed to Caley as Chessie intended?¡±


    Sparkle nodded. ¡°Only a couple of days ago.¡±


    ¡°Better late than never,¡± Dara said. Then she put her fingers in the corners of her mouth and whistled. It wasn¡¯t the piercing sound I was expecting, but sounded instead like the rich tone of a wooden flute.


    A moment passed. I looked around expectantly.


    Then Sparkle was mobbed by a dizzying, swirling blur of colors. The blob of multicolored light swayed and staggered around before plummeting to the ground in a a cacophony of happy little voices and laughter.


    I started in that direction, but was stopped by Dara¡¯s hand on my shoulder. She was laughing softly. ¡°It¡¯s all right, Caley. They¡¯re part of Sparkle¡¯s clan. They live here in the garden instead of out in Faerie, and haven¡¯t seen her since your mother died. Give them a few minutes.¡± She gestured. ¡°Come and see my garden in the meantime.¡±


    I hesitated, uncertain and a little uneasy.


    Sparkle disentangled herself from what I could now see was a mob of about two dozen fairies in a multitude of colors, all of them a bit smaller than she was, and flew up to me. ¡°It¡¯s all right, Caley, you¡¯re perfectly safe with Dara.¡±


    I relaxed. ¡°Thank you, Sparkle.¡±


    She was immediately mobbed by her¡­family?¡­again and dragged back to the ground before any of them could figure out a way to remain glommed onto her while staying in the air. I couldn¡¯t help it¡­I laughed. Dara laughed with me, her voice about an octave lower than mine.


    We watched the happy scrum for a moment longer before I turned to her and smiled tentatively. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, it¡¯s not¡­¡±


    I stopped when she held up a hand. ¡°You don¡¯t need to explain, I understand. This must all be very new to you, and you don¡¯t know who you can trust beyond Sparkle and the Caretaker. But you can trust me. This I vow, as I vowed it to your many times great-grandmother when the House was originally built¡­as long as the House stands, as long as my tree is sheltered and protected by it, I shall do all in my power to protect it in return, as if it were part of my tree.¡±


    I blinked a few times. ¡°How¡­how old are you?¡± I asked, my train of thought derailed by that detail.


    She laughed. ¡°In human years? I honestly do not know. My life is measured in a much different way. I am as old as my tree, which is older than the House by many moons and seasons.¡±


    I smiled. ¡°So you¡¯ve known¡­¡±


    ¡°All of your ancestors since the House was built, yes.¡± She smiled. ¡°There is much I can tell you about your family history, as time allows. But for now, let us begin with a tour of my garden.¡±

 Chapter 23

    As Dara led me into the incredible indoor garden, I said, ¡°So is this at least partly why my family has the oak and ivy motif everywhere?¡±


    Dara smiled, a little sadly, and nodded. ¡°Yes, it is, and why the town is called Oakwood. Once, this area was a very old forest. I don¡¯t know what it¡¯s like out there now, but even when the House was built humans had already cut down quite a bit of it.¡±


    She paused beside her tree and rested a hand against it. ¡°My tree was the oldest in the forest, and your ancestors decided that it needed to be preserved. Fortunately, I was close enough to the Nexus for the House to be built around me.¡± She smiled at me. ¡°Undoubtedly, my tree would have fallen, as many of my sisters¡¯ trees did. I owe your family my life.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know what to say to that.


    Dara laughed softly, then started walking again. ¡°There aren¡¯t many hamadryads left, you see,¡± she said quietly. ¡°Even when the House was being built, our numbers were already dwindling.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± I asked, helplessly curious.


    Dara shrugged. ¡°Who can say? Perhaps it is a special trait of the tree itself. There were never many of us to begin with, and we were scattered far and wide around the world. I don¡¯t know how many of us are left now, but it can¡¯t be many.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s very sad,¡± I said quietly.


    Dara smiled gently and patted my shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s the way of the world. All things pass in time. Even immortal things.¡±


    I gave her a long, considering look, trying to understand her. How could she accept that so calmly, shake off the sadness and show the joy I¡¯d seen in her eyes so easily?


    She laughed softly, turning towards me and taking my hands in hers. ¡°You¡¯re young. You¡¯ll understand someday. In the meantime, suffice it to say that I¡¯ve been alive for so long that the sadness of loss no longer has quite the same sting that it did when I was much younger. Come now, enjoy the garden.¡±


    We walked among the flower beds for a few minutes, Dara pointing out particularly rare flowers that were thriving in this perfect garden. But my mind wasn¡¯t really on the beauty here, as distracting and wonderful as it was¡­I had begun to feel guilty about snapping at Ken and walking out on my magic lesson.


    Dara seemed to notice, stopping and tipping her head as she looked at me. ¡°Something troubles you,¡± she said simply. ¡°Will you share your troubles with me?¡±


    I sighed a little. ¡°I think I hurt Ken¡¯s feelings -¡°


    ¡°Ken?¡± She asked curiously.


    ¡°Oh¡­that¡¯s what I¡¯ve named the Caretaker.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± she said. ¡°Is there some meaning to it?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°From Old English -¡°


    ¡°Cennan,¡± she nodded, smiling. ¡°To know, or define one¡¯s range of knowledge or sight. Very clever, and very appropriate. You¡¯re as good at Naming as your great-great-great-grandmother.¡±


    I distinctly got the impression that naming was a big deal¡­something about the way she said it had the same resonance to it that ¡®house¡¯ did when we spoke of the House.


    I gave my head a little shake to clear it¡­there was far too much going on in there right now. ¡°Anyway, my magic lesson this morning didn¡¯t go terribly well¡­or maybe it went too well, I suppose, depending on how you look at it. I got frustrated, and was rather short with him.¡±


    Dara smiled gently. ¡°I recall your mother getting frustrated with her lessons on more than one occasion. And your grandmother, for that matter. All of you have come to me for soothing when a lesson has gone badly, in fact.¡±


    I returned her smile. ¡°What advice did you give them?¡±


    ¡°Persevere,¡± Dara said bluntly. ¡°Humans have one great advantage over those of us from most realms with the Otherworld.¡± She stopped walking and laid a hand on my shoulder gently. ¡°You are tremendously flexible, and capable of shaping yourselves into new things. We of the Otherworld¡­most of us, anyway¡­are what we are.¡±


    She turned and gestured to the huge oak tree. ¡°You see my tree, do you not?¡±


    I laughed. ¡°How could I possibly miss it?¡±


    Dara laughed. ¡°Touch¨¦. But look at it¡­aside from growing - and it has mostly finished doing that - it has been largely unchanged since before the House was built.¡± She spread her arms. ¡°I am unchanged since then as well. I am what I am. Hamadryad Oak. I am strong, I give comfort and shelter; protector, provider, healer, and even adviser from time to time, is what I am. I will never change. I would not, even if I could.¡±


    She touched my shoulder again. ¡°But you, Caitlyn, daughter of Franchesca, you have the potential to be so much more than you are now. And if you are to be a good Guardian, you must grow and change.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡± I hesitated and tried to sort through my feelings. It wasn¡¯t that I didn¡¯t want to learn magic. I did, more than I¡¯d ever wanted anything. So what was bothering me?


    Dara tipped her head a little, then gently caressed my cheek and forehead. ¡°Be easy, Caley. You know what is bothering you. Let go of the frustration, and see clearly.¡±


    It was like clouds parting to let the sun shine through. ¡°I don¡¯t want to hurt anything or anyone, and Ken is insisting that I learn to fight.¡± I blinked a few times. ¡°Did you do that?¡±


    Dara smiled. ¡°Yes, and no. I helped you calm down and let go of your frustration. That simply allowed you to see the truth.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s amazing,¡± I said, smiling. ¡°Thank you!¡±


    ¡°You are most welcome,¡± she bowed a little. ¡°I am pleased to have been of aid. Now, will you hear my words of advice?¡±


    ¡°Gladly, Dara,¡± I nodded. ¡°Very gladly.¡±


    ¡°All who learn the ways of magic must learn to fight,¡± she said gently. ¡°The act of learning to wield power inevitably draws those who seek power themselves, or those who wish to smother it. Additionally, your ancestors have always felt a calling to use their power to protect those who could not protect themselves, especially within their domain¡­their protectorate¡­of Oakwood. I suspect you will desire to do the same.¡±


    I pursed my lips. ¡°What is the power for, really?¡±


    Dara smiled, her eyes sparkling. ¡°That is a delightful question. Power is for whatever you feel you must use it for. The more you have, the more you can do. Power is not - usually - inherently good or evil. How it¡¯s used is what defines it. Is that not true of all power, not simply magic?¡±


    I thought about it for a moment. She was right. All power¡­money, influence, physical strength¡­could be used in many different ways. Today, I¡¯d learned that I had power, tremendous power from the looks of it, at my fingertips. I had accidentally destroyed something with it.


    But that wasn¡¯t all it was for. The same power I¡¯d used to destroy that poor Tesla coil could just as easily be used to defend someone who was being attacked.


    I could protect someone who was being attacked. I could protect people.


    Dara smiled. ¡°There. That¡¯s the fire I saw in your ancestors¡¯ eyes. You see? It¡¯s just a matter of perspective.¡±


    I took a deep breath and let it out. ¡°It won¡¯t be easy.¡±


    ¡°Of course not,¡± she agreed. ¡°Your grandmother used to say that nothing worth doing was ever easy. The most important choices in life, she told me, will always be the hardest.¡± She squeezed my shoulder gently. ¡°I know you don¡¯t want to hurt anyone, and that¡¯s a good thing! But you must be prepared to do so¡­for your own life may depend on it someday, and the lives of others.¡±


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°What does it really mean,¡± I asked, ¡°to be the Guardian?¡±


    Dara laughed. ¡°It means what you make of it, Caley.¡± She winked. ¡°Aside from protecting the House and the nexus it was built to cap and hide, nothing is chiseled in stone. But if you¡¯re anything like your ancestors, you won¡¯t be content to sit idle here and hide from the world. Not for long.¡±


    I considered that for a moment and decided that she was right. I couldn¡¯t just hide from the world inside this glorious House. If I had power, wealth, and - from the sound of it - influence, I had a responsibility to use them.


    Dara smiled gently. ¡°As I thought.¡±


    ¡°Are you reading my mind?¡±


    She laughed. ¡°No, your expression and body language. Most humans are easy¡­you have a tendency to wear your hearts on your sleeves, as the saying goes. Now, are you feeling better?¡±


    ¡°I will be once I¡¯ve apologized to Ken,¡± I said. ¡°But I am, at least, feeling clear-headed again. I¡¯ve been muddled since I woke up this morning.¡±


    Dara bowed slightly. ¡°I am glad to have been of help.¡± She slipped her arm through mine and started walking again. ¡°Come and see my night garden.¡±


    ¡°Your what?¡±


    She led me to a rough stone shed towards the back of the garden and opened the door. Inside were a variety of very mundane gardening tools, and a set of stone stairs leading down into the ground.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± I asked.


    She smiled. ¡°You¡¯ll see. Much of what grows in my garden is good for spicing food, or has medicinal properties as well as being pretty, you know, which is why I began this extension of it.¡±


    Dara led me down the stairs into the dark, touching lanterns that lit up - presumably with magic - as we passed. The walls were hard-packed dirt and stone, shored up with wooden beams¡­but they honestly didn¡¯t look like enough to keep the structure intact.


    ¡°What¡¯s keeping the walls and ceiling stable?¡± I asked, feeling just a bit nervous.


    She gave me a bright smile. ¡°I am, of course.¡±


    I returned her smile with a dubious expression.


    She laughed. ¡°A combination of root system and magic. Relax, it¡¯s quite stable. But here, look.¡±


    We entered a chamber that was loaded¡­floors, walls, and even hanging from the ceiling¡­with different types of mushrooms, mosses, and other similar plant life.


    ¡°Wow,¡± I said. ¡°Are these all¡­¡±


    ¡°Medicinal, mostly,¡± Dara said, moving among them and checking on them. ¡°Some have healing properties that humanity has forgotten, or never learned of in the first place. I used to supply a few people in town with them regularly, before your mother died. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s happened with them since.¡± She gave me a look that I couldn¡¯t quite decipher. ¡°I hope to do so again¡­¡±


    I nodded, immediately seeing the potential benefits of such a relationship with the town. ¡°I¡¯m sure that can be arranged once I¡¯m settled in and have gotten to know people.¡±


    She looked pleased. ¡°Excellent. It¡¯s good for you to have strong ties with Oakwood, and it¡¯s good for the House as well. And thus, for me.¡±


    I looked at her for a long moment, then - keeping my face quite emotionless, said ¡°You¡¯re saying I should put down roots here.¡±


    Dara blinked a few times, then laughed delightedly. ¡°I am! I am indeed!¡±


    I grinned, relieved to be feeling quite myself again.


    Sparkle zoomed in then, orbited my head a few times, and came to a hover in front of me. ¡°There you are!¡±


    I laughed. ¡°Yes, here I am. Done with your reunion?¡±


    ¡°All done!¡± She giggled and did a pirouette in mid-air. ¡°It was great seeing them again. I¡¯m so glad they¡¯re still here.¡±


    ¡°And very helpful,¡± Dara said firmly. ¡°It would be quite a lot more work for me to take care of the garden on my own without them.¡±


    Sparkle looked at me more closely. ¡°Dara helped you sort out what was bothering you, didn¡¯t she.¡±


    I smiled. ¡°Yes, she did.¡±


    Sparkle nodded firmly and then landed on my shoulder. ¡°I knew she would.¡±


    ¡°Brought me to her on purpose, did you?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yup!¡± She sounded smug.


    But, to be honest, I was glad she had. Dara had undoubtedly helped me sort myself out in a lot less time - and with a lot less stress - than it would¡¯ve taken me otherwise. ¡°Thank you, Sparkle.¡±


    She made that adorable sound that I was quickly coming to associate with her ¡®I¡¯m helping!¡¯ expression. ¡°You¡¯re welcome, Caley!¡±


    We made our way back upstairs into the garden proper, by which time someone - I guessed Sparkle¡¯s kin - had set out a selection of foods on the glass-topped table near the entrance. I looked at it with some amusement¡­deli meats, cheeses, bread, a bowl of fruit (apples, pears, and plums), carafes of water and what I thought was probably apple juice, and a tray of small cakes. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡±


    ¡°I thought you might like to have lunch here,¡± Sparkle explained, ¡°instead of the kitchen.¡±


    The atmosphere in the garden was definitely soothing, and I found I was reluctant to leave it just yet. ¡°That sounds like a wonderful idea, Sparkle. Thank you.¡± I looked at Dara and hesitated. ¡°Um¡­¡±


    She laughed. ¡°I don¡¯t eat the way you do, but don¡¯t let that stop you. And yes, I will join you, if you¡¯d like me to.¡±


    ¡°Very much,¡± I said, sitting down at the table. ¡°I¡¯d like to hear more about my family, but I think maybe hearing more about what previous Guardians have done might be more¡­relevant.¡±


    Dara poured herself a glass of water and sat down across from me as I started building a sandwich (ham, turkey, and swiss, on slices of a really lovely sourdough). ¡°Indeed, and I can tell you a great deal.¡± She looked thoughtful for a moment. ¡°I imagine that the Caretaker¡­that Ken has given you an earful about protecting the House already.¡±


    ¡°And some,¡± I said, feeling a fresh surge of irritation. ¡°It¡¯s about all he¡¯s told me.¡±


    After some deliberation, Sparkle flung herself on one of the plums, rolled it out of the bowl, and proceeded to devour it like a starving piranha.


    Dara shook her head and smiled a little. ¡°Some things never change, at least. Well, let me tell you about some of the other things I¡¯ve seen previous Guardians do, then. Because in my opinion, protecting the House may be the least of the Guardian¡¯s duties.¡±


    I nodded and tucked into my sandwich.


    Dara sipped her water before continuing. ¡°Your mother - once she emerged from the dark period after her parents died - and many of your other predecessors frequently acted as a neutral negotiator between feuding parties in the supernatural world. Werewolf clans, vampires debating territorial boundaries, that sort of thing. Even a group of wizards from the International Consortium of Organized Arcana once asked your mother to help them negotiate a treaty with the Seelie Court of the Sidhe.¡±


    Sparkle discarded the plum¡¯s pit, selected a second one, and resumed gorging herself. I tried not to watch.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound so bad,¡± I said. ¡°Complicated and probably stressful, but certainly not violent.¡±


    Dara smiled. ¡°Though there have been times when the stress of such negotiations have left previous Guardians metaphorically tearing their hair out, it is rarely violent. But don¡¯t make the mistake of believing that you can bend your time as Guardian to being just a diplomat.¡± She leaned forward. ¡°Every Guardian has had to defend their community from time to time, and for every comparatively friendly being who comes to you for peaceful services, another will seek you out to challenge your power or use the House and what it protects for their own gain.¡±


    I swallowed the bite of sandwich I¡¯d been chewing on around a sudden lump in my throat and sipped some juice. ¡°What does the House protect? Aside from me, apparently.¡±


    Dara nodded. ¡°Indeed, the House will protect you as you protect It.¡± She sighed. ¡°There are¡­secrets here within, which I am bound not to reveal and cannot speak of until you know of them.¡± She held up her hand when I started to protest. ¡°Not because I do not want to, but because you are still becoming.¡±


    ¡°Becoming what?¡± I asked, setting my sandwich down as I felt a fresh rise of frustration.


    She smiled gently. ¡°What you are meant to be. Beyond that, there is no easy answer. Some of it - most of it, even - you must figure out for yourself. But I can tell you what the House was originally built to protect¡­the Nexus of Realities that converges here.¡±


    I nodded a little. ¡°Ken mentioned that. He said that one of my ancestors opened it accidentally, but¡­we got distracted at that point.¡±


    ¡°Caley freaked out a little,¡± Sparkle explained from where she was sprawled between the two plum pits, then belched spectacularly.


    Dara shook her head, but was still smiling. ¡°Manners, Sparkle.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯re those?¡± Sparkle shot back, grinning.


    I got the impression that this was an old joke between them.


    ¡°The Nexus,¡± Dara said to me, ignoring Sparkle¡¯s retort, ¡°is¡­¡± She paused and considered the question for a long moment, then smiled ruefully. ¡°It¡¯s very complicated, and I do not completely understand it myself. It is beyond my ken, as it were.¡±


    I smiled a little at the pun. ¡°Tell me what you can, then. Or, perhaps, tell me what you think I¡¯ll understand.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Very wise. You have seen something of the magic of the House¡¯s doors, yes? That they can open on many places in the world?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I have. Ken just about melted my brain by having me open one up on downtown Seattle.¡±


    ¡°The Nexus of Realities is like that,¡± Dara said, ¡°but for other worlds.¡± She hesitated, then shook her head. ¡°I apologize, that was imprecise. Not just for other worlds, but for worlds within other realities.¡±


    I tipped my head. ¡°You¡¯re talking about the Multiverse theory.¡±


    ¡°The what?¡± She asked curiously.


    ¡°Multiverse theory,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s something that quantum physicists have been discussing on and off since the 1950¡¯s or so. But only seriously in the last twenty years. It states - and forgive me if this isn¡¯t quite correct, it¡¯s not my area of study - that the universe we live in is one of many universes that exist side-by-side, with everything happening at once in many different ways.¡±


    Sparkle attacked another plum. I completely gave up on figuring out her physiology and mentally scratched it off my to do list, deciding to chalk it up entirely to magic and move on to things I stood a chance of actually understanding.


    Dara was nodding. ¡°That sounds roughly correct, yes. You can imagine why people and organizations - both reputable and disreputable - might want easy access to such a thing.¡±


    Boy, could I ever. I imagined a dozen amazing discoveries, and a dozen more horrible outcomes within the first ten seconds of really understanding that I was sitting on something that could give someone - anyone - easy access to other universes. The wonder and horror of it. Who knew what incredible things would be out there to discover¡­and what awful things would be lurking in the dark, waiting to take advantage of such an easy path between realities.


    ¡°Oh my God,¡± I said quietly as my brain frantically tried to digest the concept.

 Chapter 24

    ¡°Now,¡± Dara said, reaching across the table and patting my hand gently, ¡°it¡¯s not as bad as all that. The Nexus of Realities is probably the best kept secret in the world. Your mother once told me that only six or seven people in the entire world - including me and her - knew what the House really was. The rest just think it¡¯s easy access to anywhere in this world. Which is bad enough.¡±


    ¡°You can say that again,¡± I said quietly. ¡°We¡¯re sitting on the dimensional equivalent of a weapon of mass destruction. Imagine the damage someone could do, the things that could come through -¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not,¡± Dara interrupted firmly, ¡°and you shouldn¡¯t either. The House caps the Nexus, keeping it from opening any wider than it already is, and preventing anyone - including you - from using it without a massive effort. Such an effort is years beyond your skill and knowledge. So put it out of your mind¡­you can¡¯t do it by accident the way your many times great-grandmother did. She saw to that!¡±


    I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then forced myself to take another bite of my sandwich. Somehow, doing something as utterly mundane as chewing was unbelievably calming in the face of such otherworldly knowledge.


    Dara smiled, seeming to understand. ¡°It¡¯s a huge, terrifying thing, I know. Your mother wrestled with it for weeks once she learned of it. Your grandmother spent her entire life pretending it wasn¡¯t the truth.¡±


    ¡°How do I handle it?¡± I asked blankly, still having trouble digesting the idea.


    ¡°For now,¡± Dara said, ¡°it¡¯s enough to know. It¡¯s why the House is so important, after all. Imagine how much damage such a thing could have done if it wasn¡¯t bottled up.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I can.¡±


    Dara nodded sympathetically. ¡°To be honest, I¡¯m not sure anyone really can. It¡¯s too large. It¡¯s actually very good that you¡¯ve already reached that conclusion.


    ¡°But for the most part,¡± she continued, ¡°it¡¯s just the secret buried at the heart of the House, which makes the House what it is. Most Guardians go their entire lives never even having to think about its presence.¡± She leaned forward. ¡°But you needed to know just why protecting this House is so important.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I think I get it now. The outline of it, at least. My God.¡± I shook my head. ¡°What was she trying to do? The ancestor who created the Nexus by accident.¡±


    ¡°I never did find out,¡± Dara said apologetically. ¡°I didn¡¯t get to know her until after it was done, and she was never willing to speak of it. All I know is that whatever she was trying to do was the result of a terrible emotional injury, but again she would never speak of it. I merely sensed the wound within her.¡±


    ¡°And¡­do I¡­will I¡­have that kind of power at my disposal?¡± I asked uncertainly. I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted - or would be able to handle - that much power!


    ¡°In the fullness of time,¡± Dara said contentedly. ¡°With study and experience. But I believe that you, like all of the Guardians who came after her, will be wiser and more careful about the use of your power.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said. ¡°I think. So¡­what other secrets does the House hold?¡±


    Dara smiled. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you everything on day one, Caley. You¡¯d have a nervous breakdown.¡±


    ¡°That,¡± I said with a faint smile, ¡°is not very encouraging.¡±


    She laughed softly. ¡°No, I suppose it isn¡¯t. But I promise you that none of the House¡¯s other secrets - the ones I myself am privy to, at least - are even remotely close to the scale of that first and most important one.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a relief,¡± I said frankly, and it was. It really, really was.


    I finished the last few bites of my sandwich in quiet contemplation and followed it up with an apple¡­I had always found pears and plums too sweet for my tastes. Dara, bless her, let me digest both food and concepts in silence for several minutes, while Sparkle demolished a fourth plum and then flitted off to a nearby pond - an actual, small pond, that appeared to be fed by a natural spring - to clean herself up.


    As I rose, Dara rose as well, coming around the table to hug me gently. ¡°Come and visit me any time you need to clear your head, or are looking for some advice. I¡¯m always glad to help.¡±


    I returned her hug. ¡°Thank you so much, Dara. Not just for clearing my head, but also for giving me a better idea of what¡¯s at stake here.¡±


    She smiled and stepped back from me. ¡°The Caretaker is a tremendous fount of knowledge¡­but he is occasionally a bit short of wisdom. I like to think that he and I balance each other out somewhat.¡±


    ¡°I would say so,¡± I agreed. ¡°Come on, Sparkle!¡±


    Sparkle flitted up into the air from where she¡¯d been washing and gave herself a mighty shake, shedding water in every direction. Her natural purple glow turned the little shower of water droplets into a cascade of tiny rainbows. Then she darted over to me and settled onto my right shoulder. ¡°Ready!¡±


    I paused at the door to lift my hand in farewell to Dara, and watched with fascination as she melted back into her tree. Then I closed the door behind me and started walking.


    ¡°Where are we going now, Caley?¡± Sparkle asked. ¡°Back to find Ken?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said slowly. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯m quite ready for that conversation. Anyway, I know there¡¯s at least a couple of hours left before it¡¯s time to go, but I want to get ready for my trip into town tonight.¡±


    Sparkle giggled. ¡°I think you¡¯re going to be really good at darts.¡±


    ¡°Do you?¡± I asked, amused. ¡°I¡¯ve never thrown one before in my life. I don¡¯t really even know the rules to the game.¡±


    She giggled again. ¡°I don¡¯t either. But I have confidence that you¡¯ll be good at anything you really set your mind to.¡±


    Her faith in me was absolute and unshakable. It was a little bit intimidating, really. ¡°You¡¯ve been there before for darts night, haven¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Sure! I used to go with Mistress Chessie!¡±


    ¡°Can you give me an idea of what I should wear?¡± I asked hopefully.


    I felt her little feet kick idly against my shoulder. ¡°Not really. I mean, fairy fashion is a lot different than human fashion, and Mistress Chessie liked to dress to attract attention. I don¡¯t think you do.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°True enough,¡± I admitted.


    The House, as it seemed wont to do, judged my desire to walk without destination for a little while and simply presented me with hallways and staircases in a seemingly endless maze of floors and doors that couldn¡¯t possibly fit into its exterior. I ignored the physical impossibility of it - or maybe I was getting used to it - and just walked.


    I considered my own personality and style. Except when I¡¯d been doing ballet and gymnastics, I¡¯d always been rather subdued in my choice of colors. I liked to wear earth tones and rich primary colors, especially green and blue. I¡¯d always felt that pastels washed me out completely, and only in ballet class had I ever been talked into wearing pink.


    Not because I didn¡¯t like it¡­it¡¯s a lovely color. But with my pale skin and white hair, it just doesn¡¯t suit me.


    Stylistically, well¡­I was admittedly a bit repressed. While many of my female classmates had pranced around campus in cropped tops, tight pants, short skirts, and see-through shirts with just a bra beneath, I¡¯d been wearing chinos, calf-length skirts, shirts, and blouses. If I was feeling particularly safe about being casual, relaxed-fit jeans and a polo shirt or t-shirt.


    It wasn¡¯t so much a confidence issue as a desire to not draw any more attention to myself than my unusual appearance already did. It was camouflage, for lack of a better term.


    Not that it ever really worked, I admitted to myself. I still got hit on by boys and girls alike with somewhat uncomfortable frequency.


    At least I was probably going to find an older - and hopefully somewhat more decorous - crowd at the Oak & Ivy pub this evening. Perhaps with this group, I could just be myself and not worry about how other people saw me.


    I thought about what I¡¯d seen Malcolm O¡¯Day wearing behind the bar. Jeans and a shirt under his apron. Pretty casual. Could I get away with something similar?


    Jeans and a¡­I paused for a moment. Assuming they had room for another player, I¡¯d be throwing darts.


    Short sleeves, not long.


    All right then, I¡¯d find something short-sleeved to wear, and throw a jacket over the whole thing for the walk into town.


    I could drive in, I supposed. And why not? We¡¯d see how I felt when it was time to go.


    Either way, I desperately needed a night out, and it would give me an opportunity really start putting down roots in the community.


    God, that turn of phrase was never not going to be a terrible pun again, now that I¡¯d met Dara.


    To my surprise, I found myself standing at the door of my bedroom. The House was definitely getting better at knowing my mind. I wondered just how deep that connection would become as I settled in.


    The thought did not disturb me. I found it rather comforting, actually.


    I ended up changing into a comfortable, knee-length denim skirt, and a short-sleeved green shirt. In deference to the cool weather, I added a pair of thick dark tights and a pair of flat-heeled, green leather ankle boots (that I¡¯d never seen before, but which fit me perfectly). Over that outfit, I threw on a brown cable-knit sweater. If I got too warm, I could take it off easily enough.


    Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I had to admit that I looked more confident and in command of myself than I had just a week ago. Heck, I¡¯d looked downright exhausted and harried most of the time.


    ¡°What do you think, Sparkle?¡± I asked.


    She zipped over in a streak of purple and hovered by my right shoulder, looking at my reflection in the mirror. ¡°You look very presentable,¡± she said, sounding just a bit uncertain.


    I glanced at her and smiled. ¡°No fashion advice for me at all?¡±


    She giggled. ¡°Well, I think frilly dresses in bright colors, especially with short skirts, tight bodices, and gauzy bits are the best. Especially with matching stockings. I love stockings.¡±


    I blinked a few times, then smiled. ¡°That¡¯s typical fairy fashion, is it?¡±


    Sparkle smiled at me. ¡°Except for the stockings. Mistress Chessie got me into those.¡±


    Literally, or figuratively, I wondered? Then decided I probably didn¡¯t want to know.


    ¡°I think we¡¯ll work up to fairy fashion, then,¡± I said with a smile. ¡°Though I have to admit, I wouldn¡¯t mind trying on a dress like yours someday. It¡¯s very pretty.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d look amazing, Caley.¡± She said it with such uncomplicated honesty, as she did all things, that I felt my cheeks heat up a bit.


    ¡°Thank you, Sparkle. Shall we go?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s kind of early¡­¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I feel like walking into town, though. And I think I¡¯d like to do a bit of window shopping on the way there.¡±


    She beamed. ¡°Okay!¡± And without another word she shot towards the Master Key where it dangled from my choker. I felt the tiny impact as she connected, and when I looked in the mirror she was there, a perfect, tiny silver fairy molded to the key, as if she¡¯d always been there.


    Thus reassured that she would be unseen and that I wouldn¡¯t be going out alone, I opened the door and then paused. ¡°Oh, bother. Sparkle, before we go, I need you to do me one favor.¡±


    In an instant, she was hovering in front of my face, back to her natural size and color. ¡°Yes, Caley?¡±


    ¡°Go find Ken, let him know that we¡¯re going out, and we¡¯ll be back later this evening. I don¡¯t want him fretting that we¡¯ve disappeared on him.¡±


    She threw me a crisp salute and shot out the door, leaving a streak of quickly fading purple light in her wake.


    ¡°Meet me at the front door!¡± I called after her and laughed.


    She did, zooming up as I was putting a light coat on. ¡°Ken says ¡®Be careful and have a good time.¡¯¡± She reported eagerly. ¡°I think he was working on a new lesson plan for you.¡±


    ¡°Thank goodness.¡± I opened the front door. ¡°Ready?¡±


    ¡°Ready!¡±


    I paused and looked at her. ¡°You¡¯re not going to hide on my Key?¡±


    She swept in a short circle and giggled. ¡°Nobody will see me outside in broad daylight, even if there was someone around to see me. Before we reach town, I¡¯ll attach to the Key.¡±


    I smiled. ¡°All right. Let¡¯s go, then.¡±


    We left, locking the door behind us. After a few steps, I impulsively stopped and went back, placing my hand flat on the door and summoning up a sense of reassuring affection for the House to feel. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯re just going into town. We¡¯ll be back.¡±


    To my surprise, I felt a sense of understanding, calm certainty, and affection that was directed toward me. I guessed that meant the House understood and was okay with our excursion.


    Sparkle, watching me, smiled and shot away down the long drive, obviously enjoying being outside. And why not? For late October, it was a beautiful day. The sun shown down on us, blunting the crisp autumn air and offsetting the gentle breeze that blew across us, bringing hints of the coming winter with it.


    I hesitated briefly, thinking about what it might be like walking back later, after the sun had set. Then shrugged and started after Sparkle. I¡¯d jogged in colder weather, wearing thinner clothes. I¡¯d be fine.


    The walk finished clearing my head, and by the time we were halfway to town I¡¯d started to feel a bit silly about my miniature meltdown that morning. Not because it was anything less than perfectly understandable (I was able to dissect the reasons why it had happened with no effort at all¡­hindsight, as the saying goes, is 20/20), but because I strongly disliked losing control of myself that way.


    All you had to do to know that I appreciated self-control and precise behavior was look at my old extracurricular activities: ballet, gymnastics, and fencing. I didn¡¯t like not being in complete control of myself, especially when it came to my emotions, and the last few days had done their level best (and some) to rattle my composure.


    Of course Ken would be concerned about making sure I learned the magical equivalent of self-defense as quickly as possible, and it sounded like he firmly believed in the old saw about ¡®a good offense being the best defense.¡¯ It wasn¡¯t untrue, but it wasn¡¯t what I was used to. Since Sparkle and Dara both appeared to agree with him, it was just an adjustment I would need to make.


    The deeper mysteries of magic could - and undoubtedly would - come later. Learning how to bend reality to my will wouldn¡¯t do me any good if I was devoured whole by the first monster I came across.


    That was a sobering thought.


    But, I sighed, one I¡¯d better learn to live with. Life is change. Adapt or die. I¡¯d resolved to see this through and not run screaming back to my old, mundane life¡­I needed to adjust to the realities of my new world.


    Not, I suspected, that I could go back. Now that it was becoming aware of me, as I was becoming aware of it, I had a distinct sense that this new - and potentially more dangerous - world I had entered would find a way to follow me back to the ¡®mundane¡¯ world I¡¯d come from. And God help me (and probably anyone near me at the time) if that happened and I didn¡¯t know how to protect myself from it.


    I was distracted then by Sparkle, who shot past me in pursuit of what I thought was a wren of some sort. They were moving so fast that all I really saw was a small brown blur being chased by a small purple streak.


    ¡°Sparkle,¡± I called after her, ¡°what are you doing?¡±


    She returned to hover in front of me, flushed with the exertion and giggling. ¡°Just playing, Caley!¡± She flitted up to me and plopped down on my right shoulder with a little ¡°Whew!¡±


    I laughed. ¡°All right. We¡¯re almost there, so stay with me.¡±


    ¡°Okay!¡± She hopped off my shoulder again, and in an instant was attached to the Master Key, as if she¡¯d always been there.


    I shook my head, smiling, and walked the rest of the way into town.

 Chapter 25

    In the end, there honestly wasn¡¯t much window shopping to do. Oakwood was a comparatively tiny community, without much in the way of local services. I imagined that day trips to Glastonbury, which was only about a fifteen to twenty minute drive away, were common.


    There was a small greengrocer which was just big enough to have most of the staples and also doubled as the local news stand. Directly across from it was the town¡¯s small police house, probably just big enough for a single constable (I couldn¡¯t imagine Oakwood having more than that¡­or any crime to speak of), and a cozy looking little garden shop.


    I thought I recognized some of the flowers in the garden shop¡¯s window from Dara¡¯s collection of rare plants, and made a mental note to contact the owner and find out. If they were one of the people Dara had mentioned as having received medicinal herbs from her years ago - or, more likely, had inherited or bought the shop from someone who had - they might be interested in reopening that line of contact.


    After that there was a quaint little dress shop, a small bookshop, the town library and meeting hall, and then the Oak & Ivy Pub. I noticed immediately upon arriving there that even though it wasn¡¯t quite dinner time yet, the pub already had a fair number of people in it.


    I guess there wasn¡¯t much else to do in a small town like Oakwood on a Thursday evening.


    Bracing myself for the inevitable flood of comparisons to my mother, I opened the door and stepped inside, accompanied by the pleasant jingle of the bell above the door.


    Conversation, thankfully, did not stop. Neither did everyone turn to stare at me all at once.


    So much for those clich¨¦s. I wasn¡¯t about to complain.


    Malcolm O¡¯Day spotted me at once, however, and waved me over to the bar, so I made my way across the room to him.


    The pub¡¯s client¨¨le appeared to be mostly older men - I guessed that the average age of the room was late sixties to early eighties - with a few women mixed in here and there. Several of them looked at me in surprise as I passed, then smiled and gave me politely subdued greetings, which I returned with (probably uncertain) smiles and murmured greetings.


    It wasn¡¯t at all noisy. Somehow, I¡¯d expected it to be louder. But the noise level was a sort of loud murmur¡­it wouldn¡¯t be hard for someone to make themselves heard over the buzz of quiet conversations. There was no sense, at least to my ear, that it was a tense or uneasy quiet; this just wasn¡¯t a rowdy crowd.


    Yet, I thought to myself. It was still early, and it looked like the dart board hadn¡¯t been touched yet.


    ¡°Good evening to you, Miss Reid,¡± Malcolm said with a smile as I reached the bar. ¡°What can I get for you? The missus has a lovely beef stew on the stove with fresh bread bowls, or I could whip up a sandwich for you if you¡¯d rather.¡±


    My stomach surprised me by rumbling, and I wondered just how long I¡¯d been wandering the hallways after leaving Dara¡¯s garden. The clock said it had only been three hours, but it felt longer somehow. Or maybe the combination of my spellcasting that morning and the walk into town had revived my appetite. ¡°The stew sounds wonderful,¡± I said with a smile, sitting on one of the tall chairs that lined the bar. ¡°And please, call me Caley.¡±


    His smile warmed. ¡°As you will. And don¡¯t sound so surprised¡­as I recall, your mother had quite an appetite too.¡± He winked.


    Yes, she would have. I wondered what kind of a weight loss program learning spellcasting would make¡­or if the calories it burned were merely from effort and not actual energy usage. Something else to add to my research list, assuming there was an answer. I¡¯d start by asking Ken.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you showed up this evening,¡± Malcolm said conversationally. ¡°I was a bit worried you might not. I¡¯ll introduce you around later.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Malcolm, I appreciate it,¡± I said. ¡°And I wouldn¡¯t have missed this. If I¡¯m going to put down serious roots here, I need to start getting to know people, right?¡¯


    He beamed. ¡°Precisely so! Not that this lot will expect you to remember all of their names in one go. I¡¯m not sure some of them can remember their own names by the end of the evening. Fortunately, everyone¡¯s within walking distance, so I don¡¯t need to collect any car keys.¡± He winked.


    I took my time eating Mrs. O¡¯Day¡¯s delicious stew. It was worth it. The bread bowls in particular were a novelty to me¡­I¡¯d never had such a thing before, or even thought that it was a possibility. Being able to break off chunks of the bread to go with the stew was a delightful novelty, and I resolved to stop by for a meal whenever I heard she was making them.


    I had just settled down with a post-meal cup of tea (I have no idea how Malcolm knew I wanted one, he simply turned up with a cup as I finished the last of the stew) when Malcolm picked up a wine glass and tapped it lightly with a knife to draw attention. Glancing around, I realized that the pub had filled up while I¡¯d been eating, and nervously suspected I knew what was coming.


    ¡°If I could have everyone¡¯s attention?¡± Malcolm said cheerfully. When the pleasant buzz of conversation had died down, he beamed around. ¡°It¡¯s a big day today¡­Oakwood Manor - ¡°


    Manor? That didn''t feel quite right.


    ¡° - is once again inhabited by a member of the Reid family!¡±


    Glasses were lifted and a general tone of goodwill was raised as well, which could collectively be translated as ¡®huzzah.¡¯


    ¡°This,¡± Malcolm gestured to me, ¡°is Caitlyn Reid, daughter of Franchesca - ¡°


    ¡°As if we wouldn¡¯t recognize her!¡± an elderly man said loudly from over by an ancient Wurlitzer jukebox.


    Everyone laughed. Even I smiled at that.


    ¡°True enough!¡± Malcolm said cheerfully. ¡°I hope you¡¯ll all welcome her and make her feel at home here.¡±


    ¡°And teach me how to play darts,¡± I interjected, wanting to try to make some sort of connection¡­and a good first impression. ¡°I¡¯ve never actually played before.¡±


    My comment, thankfully, got more friendly laughter and reassurances that they¡¯d teach me.


    ¡°On your best behavior, now!¡± Malcolm added to the room at large, to more laughter and one teasing ¡°Just because we¡¯re old doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯ve forgotten how to treat a young lady proper,¡± from by the door.


    Over the next hour I was introduced to so many people that even with my incredible memory I gave up hoping to keep names with faces after only a few minutes and just let it wash over me. Everyone seemed to have known my mother when she was a little girl, and most of them had fond memories of my parents together while they were married. Many of them expressed relief that the House¡­they all referred to it as Oakwood Manor or Oakwood Hall, which I filed away for later¡­was inhabited by a member of the family again. Two older men and one middle-aged woman even leaned in and conspiratorially whispered that they were glad the Manor had a Guardian again.


    As things settled back down to what I guessed was pub-normal, and people stopped coming over to introduce themselves and shake my hand (or, in one charming instance, a very elderly gentleman gave my knuckles a slightly shaky kiss), I turned back to Malcolm and murmured, ¡°Just how many people know about the House and what I am?¡±


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Malcolm leaned on the bar and smiled gently. ¡°Most of them on some level realize that there¡¯s more to it than you just being the local land-owner of note. A few, as I¡¯m guessing you¡¯ve realized, are aware that there¡¯s more to it even than that. Only a handful of us really know, however.¡± He laid a finger alongside his nose. ¡°And I suspect that even we have only pieces of the actual puzzle.¡±


    I opened my mouth to say something and he shook his head. ¡°Things like that are secrets for a reason, Caley. Keep them secret. What we suspect is what we suspect. Sometimes it¡¯s best not to know for certain.¡±


    Which made perfect sense to me. So I left it at that.


    Then, God bless their patience, they taught me to play darts. And let me tell you, when it¡¯s being explained to you by a bar full of people, most of whom have had more than two beers, it¡¯s not all that easy to learn.


    But somehow, even with more than a little good-natured ribbing, I didn¡¯t find it at all frustrating. Instead, it was like¡­I suppose it was like being in a room full of grandparents, or favored aunts and uncles, all of whom wanted to help bring you up to speed. It should¡¯ve been overwhelming to me, but it wasn¡¯t.


    Instead, I slowly but surely came to understand the difference between single, double, and triple point sections. I learned that the bullseye, while the favored target of showoffs everywhere, was not the most valuable target on the board (at least by the rules they were using).


    And, to my intense surprise, I learned that I had an astonishing talent for throwing darts. After a few false starts (to my credit, I did not miss the board even once), I realized that throwing a dart was just creating a parabolic flying curve. All I had to do was connect the dart to the place I wanted it to go on the board with a gentle arc. The pub was a closed environment (barring a couple of ceiling fans), so there was no cross-wind to compensate for, and my body was already pretty well trained for balance and coordination.


    Okay, sure, it wasn¡¯t as simple as I¡¯m making it sound. But by the third round, I was within a section or two of where I wanted the dart to be, and by the fifth round I was hitting my mark on just about every throw.


    By the end of the seventh round, my arm was starting to ache. Different muscles were in play, and I clearly needed to build them up a bit. So I retired to the bar on a wave of applause and good-natured relief that the new player was done destroying the vets, at least for tonight. I helped things along by buying a round for the house, as I''d intended.


    ¡°That was well done,¡± Malcolm said from behind the bar, sliding me a frosted glass as I collapsed into one of the bar chairs.


    I gave it an uncertain look until he smiled and murmured, ¡°It¡¯s just ginger ale. But you¡¯re taking part this way.¡±


    I nodded my gratitude - both for the drink and the advice - and sipped it slowly. ¡°Thank you. That was more fun than I thought it was going to be.¡±


    ¡°Your mother was terrible at it, at first,¡± he said, leaning against the bar beside me. ¡°Genuinely terrible. Couldn¡¯t even hit the board at first. But your father¡­after his third or fourth round, he figured it out the same way you did and started hitting his target just about every time.¡±


    ¡°You know,¡± I said, ¡°people keep comparing me to her because I look so much like her. But the more I learn about my parents, the more I feel like I take after my father.¡±


    Malcolm smiled and nodded. ¡°You¡¯re definitely not as¡­¡± He hesitated, searching for the right word.


    ¡°Colorful?¡± The older man sitting to my left suggested.


    ¡°Outrageous?¡± An older woman on my right offered.


    Malcolm chuckled. ¡°Your mother was definitely unique. Not that you aren¡¯t¡­we all are. But¡­¡±


    ¡°Chessie was more unique than others,¡± the older man on my left said, then offered his hand. ¡°Bert Fletcher, pharmacist. Three storefronts further down on this side, if you need anything. Your mother used to be something of an herbalist¡­provided some people in town with rare plants that had useful medicinal properties.¡± He smiled a little. ¡°If that garden of hers is still there and not a disaster, you¡¯d make a lot of people happy by taking up that practice again.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I just found the garden today, actually, and it¡¯s in amazing condition. Give me a few weeks to get settled in, and I can probably pick up that practice.¡± I returned his smile. ¡°I¡¯d like to, actually. I¡¯m still trying to figure out what my place in the community is. I don¡¯t know if I have my mother¡¯s green thumb, but if I can help people out that way, I definitely will.¡±


    Mr. Fletcher¡¯s smile warmed. ¡°Glad to hear it, Miss Reid. As for your place in the community, well¡­¡± He winked at me and said softly, ¡°You protect the community, don¡¯t you.¡±


    ¡°Bert here is clued in, like me,¡± Malcolm said comfortably.


    ¡°Did a stint as mayor back when your mother had just re-emerged after her parents died,¡± Mr. Fletcher said. ¡°For what it¡¯s worth in this small town. But one of the mayor¡¯s duties - and I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll meet him before long because of it - is to maintain lines of contact with the Hall and the Guardian, so that if anything¡­unusual¡­appears in town you can be notified quickly to deal with it.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± I said, and that actually made sense to me. ¡°The police constable, too?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Sometimes,¡± Mr. Fletcher said. ¡°Constable Sawyer - that¡¯s Blake Sawyer, Charles and Roberta¡¯s oldest boy - is still pretty new to the position, for all he grew up in the area. He¡¯s about your age, I¡¯d guess, and a bit overzealous.


    ¡°Thinks he¡¯ll single-handedly wipe out all crime in the area,¡± one of the darts players - I think his name was George - said, nudging in and passing an empty half-pint mug across the bar. ¡°Another for me, Malcolm.¡± Then he flashed me a quick grin. ¡°Not that there¡¯s any crime in the area to speak of, at least until the next small batch of kids gets their provisional licenses and go speeding through town in their parents¡¯ cars. And that¡¯s a couple of years off, I think.¡±


    ¡°Here you go, George,¡± Malcolm said, handing him a fresh half pint.


    ¡°Cheers, mates.¡± He lifted his mug to me. ¡°Miss.¡± He took a drink, then drifted back towards the darts game.


    We watched him go, then Mr. Fletcher chuckled and shook his head. ¡°He¡¯s not wrong. Blake¡¯s a good boy, but overzealous is precisely right. He doesn¡¯t know yet¡­but then, there hasn¡¯t been any reason for him to know. Aye?¡±


    Malcolm nodded and sighed. ¡°Quite right.¡± He met my eyes. ¡°I imagine you¡¯ll have to let him in on the secret eventually.¡±


    ¡°Not much of a secret,¡± Mr. Fletcher grunted. ¡°Pretty much everyone who lived in town at the same time as your parents knew to some extent or other.¡± He rose, tipped an imaginary hat to me, and smiled. ¡°You come by my shop if you need anything, or when you get your mother¡¯s old garden back in shape. I know a couple of old wives who had a talent for mixing herbal remedies.¡±


    I returned his smile. ¡°I¡¯ll do that, Mr. Fletcher. Thank you.¡±


    He wandered off, while I leaned against the bar and sipped my ginger ale. The pub full of people - while not actually what I would¡¯ve called a ¡®crush¡¯ - was starting to overwhelm me a little.


    Malcolm must¡¯ve noticed, because he leaned across the bar and murmured, ¡°Nobody will mind if you slip out quietly, lass. Your mother used to come and go like the wind.¡±


    I gave him a grateful look, paid my tab, and slipped out the door into the cool, early evening. Out front, I paused and drew in a deep breath of clear air¡­nobody had been smoking (thank goodness), but in a closed environment like that, the smell of alcohol had been starting to make me light headed. Even though the ginger ale had been the strongest thing I¡¯d had to drink all evening.


    I guessed I was just a lightweight. Never mind. Orienting myself, I started for home.


    The walk cleared my head quickly, and I was astonished by the volume of stars I could see in the sky. I wasn¡¯t exactly a city girl, but everywhere I¡¯d lived there¡¯d always been a certain amount of light at night. Oakwood had street lights, and of course the houses were lit, but there was a subdued quality to it. As if I¡¯d stepped back in time sixty or seventy years, or as if they preferred to keep things low key.


    And, of course, once I got out of town on the road to home - and without the Moon in the sky - it was profoundly dark. Much darker than I was used to experiencing outdoors. I made a mental note to acquire a flashlight somewhere¡­then realized how silly that was, scratched that out, and made a mental note to bother Ken about teaching me to make a light with magic.


    After another moment, I realized that while it would be good practice, that idea was probably redundant, and said, ¡°Sparkle, can you give me a bit of light?¡±


    In an instant, she was off the Master Key and fluttering along beside me, shedding her gentle purple glow around us. It wasn¡¯t a lot of light, but it was just enough to see by without disrupting my eyes adjusting to the dark. And, as it had when she was acting as my night light, it pushed back the shadows in a way that a mundane light simply didn¡¯t.


    ¡°Thank you, Sparkle.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, Caley!¡± She said cheerfully. ¡°Did you have a good time?¡±


    ¡°I did, actually,¡± I said, both sounding and feeling a bit surprised. ¡°I honestly hadn¡¯t expected to, but¡­everyone was so friendly and welcoming, and nobody made a big deal out of it once Malcolm introduced me. They just¡­accepted me.¡±


    Sparkle giggled. ¡°Of course they did. This is your home.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know what to say to that, so just walked beside her in silence. The road was empty, the woods silent except for the occasional rustle of some animal moving out beyond the edge of Sparkle¡¯s glow.


    It had been, all in all, a wonderful evening.


    I felt¡­revived. Though I couldn¡¯t say why. I pondered it for a few minutes, then set it aside as another piece in the larger puzzle that was my new home.


    And there it was now. I unlocked the gate and let us inside the wall. With it locked up behind us, Sparkle and I started up the drive for home.

 Chapter 26

    As I closed and locked the front door behind us, I was a bit surprised to find that Ken was not waiting for us to come in. I¡¯d more than half expected him to be hovering in the foyer, fidgeting nervously.


    I slipped out of my jacket and hung it on a peg by the door (next to two other identical jackets in different colors, a dark blue wool pea coat, a black trench coat, and an honest-to-goodness mantled oilcloth duster) before slipping out of my sweater and threw it over my shoulder. ¡°What do you think, Sparkle? Up for a snack before bed?¡±


    She giggled and zipped in a little circle. ¡°Always!¡±


    ¡°That was probably a silly question, wasn¡¯t it,¡± I admitted, and without more than the briefest hesitation - as soon as I¡¯d mentioned the kitchen I had known precisely where it was - I headed for the left-most door in the foyer, at the bottom of the curved staircase. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s see what we can rustle up for ourselves.¡±


    There was a low fire crackling in the kitchen¡¯s enormous fireplace when we entered, and - to my astonishment - I saw a mop handle apparently moving by itself on the other side of the island. Sparkle immediately settled on my shoulder and gave my ear a gentle tug back towards the door, but my curiosity would now not be satisfied until I knew what was going on here. Ken had implied, sort of, that the House had its own staff that I had never seen.


    ¡°Hello?¡± I asked.


    The mop handle froze.


    ¡°Be the master of the House,¡± Sparkle murmured in my ear. Now that I¡¯d declared myself rather than ignoring the obvious, I guess she¡¯d decided to advise me instead of try to get me out of the room. Interesting.


    I thought frantically for a moment, and a piece of old fairy folklore from my childhood suddenly clicked into place. So I cleared my throat. ¡°This is my home, and you are welcome in it so long as you do no harm to those within.¡±


    ¡°Harm?¡± A tiny, masculine voice said in a tone that was somewhere between indignation and disgust. ¡°Neither I nor my kin would ever, so long as we were made welcome!¡±


    The mop handle vanished into thin air, and the sound of tiny footsteps could be heard. I immediately adjusted my line of sight down, as a tiny being came around the side of the island.


    If he was two feet tall, I would eat my sweater. Maybe he was grazing that height, but he was at least an inch or two short of it. He wore rustic clothes¡­leather trousers, a brown homespun shirt and neat white apron, with leather shoes and a little brown felt pork pie hat. His skin, what I could see of it, was as brown as his trousers and weathered like a potato. His eyes, however, were bright green and gleamed with both intelligence and cleverness.


    His eyes rested on my face for a moment, before moving to Sparkle. ¡°Miss Sparkle,¡± he said, sweeping a courtly bow, ¡°lovely t¡¯see ye again. Would ye kindly introduce yer companion?¡±


    Sparkle, still on my shoulder, giggled. ¡°Of course. Caley, this is Wadsworth. Wadsworth, this is Caley, daughter of Mistress Chessie.¡± She tugged on my ear a little and murmured almost inaudibly, ¡°Wadsworth is the current leader of the clan of Brownies that keeps the House clean and neat.¡±


    A Brownie. Of course he was. And I had a whole clan of them living here?


    It was a big house.


    Wadsworth - I briefly flashed on a mental image of Tim Curry in full butler kit - bowed to me. ¡°Lady Reid, ''tis an honor to meet ye at last.¡± He took a breath and let it out, and I got the impression that he was nervous about what he was going to say next. ¡°Since ye found me out fair and square, it¡¯s time to bargain, as was done in days past. My family has served yer family for¡­oh, at least twelve generations now, and we¡¯d be honored t¡¯continue t¡¯do so, as long as yeh will abide by th¡¯ rules.¡±


    I nodded slowly. ¡°I do not know what the rules are, Mr. Wadsworth,¡± I figured being extra polite couldn¡¯t hurt, ¡°so if you will be so kind as to explain them to me, I will give the matter due consideration.¡±


    He gave me a small, approving smile. ¡°Very good, Lady Reid. The rules are simple: As long as ye keep our presence here a secret and speak of us to none - except those who¡¯ve found us by accident, like ye did, or who knew about us from days past, like Sparkle and the Caretaker - and give us the sanctuary of yer home, and an offering from yer table, my clan and I will tend to the House¡¯s needs inside and out, without e¡¯er being seen or being any sort of nuisance t¡¯ thee and thine.¡±


    ¡°So I know specifically,¡± I said carefully, ¡°what does ¡®an offering from my table¡¯ constitute.¡±


    Wadsworth grinned. ¡°Ye¡¯ve good instincts, lass. With a bit of training, ye¡¯ll be a right thorn in the side of any unwary Sidhe who tries t¡¯get one over on ye. Food and drink, my lady fair, for me and my clan. That¡¯s all.¡±


    Interesting. ¡°Can you take it for yourself, or do I need to leave it out for you?¡±


    His grin widened. ¡°If ye approve it, we can take it for ourselves.¡± He gestured to the fridge. ¡°Yon magical ice-box is more than sufficient for our needs and comforts alike, and I¡¯ll not take aught that ye bring in from outside unless offered freely.¡±


    I nodded. Low maintenance, too. This sounded almost too good to be true. ¡°And my protection?¡±


    Wadsworth chuckled. ¡°Ye¡¯ve naught t¡¯do there except allow us to abide in yer home, my lady. For food and shelter, we keep the House and grounds clean, tidy, and pest-free.¡±


    I desperately wanted to ask Sparkle if this was a safe deal to agree to. Fortunately, she must¡¯ve guessed what I was thinking, because she whispered in my ear, ¡°This is the same deal Mistress Chessie made with him. It¡¯s completely safe, and they¡¯re completely loyal.¡±


    I nodded without any further hesitation. ¡°I accept your deal, Wadsworth. The services of you and your clan, in exchange for food and shelter as you¡¯ve described. Shall we shake on it?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Aye, my lady!¡±


    With that, Wadsworth offered me his tiny hand, and I bent to shake it gravely (and carefully). Then he bowed to me, said, ¡°I¡¯ll be off then. There¡¯s always work t¡¯be done. If ye¡¯ve need of me or our services, just call for me.¡±


    And he was gone.


    I straightened and blinked a few times. ¡°What just happened?¡± I asked, amused.


    ¡°You just interviewed and renewed the contract with the House¡¯s cleaning staff,¡± Sparkle giggled. ¡°Now, snack!¡± She zoomed over to the fridge.


    I made a mental note to do a bit of research on Brownies, and then a second mental note to get myself a bloody pocket notebook and a little pen to go with it. The number of things I was trying to remember to look into, do, or ask was becoming absurd.


    Considering the quick job they¡¯d done of cleaning up the place once it was inhabited again, and how spotless it had been since, I ought to leave something special out for them once in a while while I was at it. Maybe a nice cheese tray, or a selection of chocolates or something.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    I briefly considered just how bizarre my life had become in such a short period of time, then pushed the thought aside as I reached the fridge. ¡°Chilled mandarin orange slices, please.¡±


    ¡°Chocolate chip cookie!¡± Sparkle said with glee.


    At least she was predictable.


    I opened the fridge and retrieved a bowl of nicely cold mandarin orange slices - complete with a spoon - and Sparkle¡¯s cookie, then retired to the table by the fireplace. I got my hand clear of Sparkle¡¯s cookie just in time to avoid losing a finger or two as she dove onto it and began to devour it.


    With just a bit more decorum, I tucked into my orange slices. Between bites, I said to Sparkle - who had inhaled her cookie before I was done with my second bite - ¡°So they keep the House clean?¡±


    Sparkle nodded, plopping down on the table and curling her legs under her. ¡°Uh huh! And take care of the yard within the wall.¡±


    That explained why the grassy verge outside the wall hadn¡¯t been trimmed. Another mental note was made: Either find someone to keep it tidy, or learn how to do it myself. Maybe there was some spell I could use.


    ¡°Well,¡± I said, ¡°they¡¯re obviously excellent gardeners and housekeepers. I¡¯ve nothing to complain about there, except for how dusty the House was when I arrived.¡±


    ¡°That,¡± Ken¡¯s voice said from the doorway, ¡°was your father¡¯s doing.¡±


    I turned a little in my seat to see him standing in the open doorway. ¡°Wadsworth let me know that you caught him mopping the floor in here,¡± Ken said with an uncertain smile. ¡°I came to see if you had any questions.¡±


    ¡°Dozens,¡± I said ruefully, nudging my bowl in Sparkle¡¯s direction. She took the hint and plucked out an orange wedge to nibble on. ¡°But I guess the most pressing is¡­why?¡±


    ¡°Your father?¡± Ken asked.


    I nodded and spooned up some orange wedges for myself before Sparkle could eat all of what was left.


    Ken entered the kitchen fully and shook his head a little. ¡°Theatricality, I¡¯m afraid. First he had them make it dusty so that it would seem completely abandoned when you arrived, only to be magically spotless the next morning. I think he thought it would help you adjust to the general weirdness of the place. You wouldn¡¯t believe the angst on display while they messed the place up.¡±


    ¡°I think I might,¡± I said. ¡°And believe it or not, it did help me acclimate.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to let Wadsworth know,¡± Ken said seriously. ¡°Maybe then he¡¯ll forgive your father for asking them to make the place so dusty.¡±


    We managed to remain serious for a few seconds before both of us laughed softly. Sparkle, meanwhile, polished off my mandarin oranges. But that was all right.


    ¡°So,¡± Ken said uncertainly after a few moments, ¡°am I forgiven?¡±


    ¡°That depends,¡± I said gently, ¡°on whether the lesson plan is going to change.¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°Definitely. From now on, sleeping lessons every other night only, starting with a night off tonight. Your mind might be absorbing all of the information well, but it¡¯s still taking a toll on you. You weren¡¯t quite yourself this morning.¡±


    I nodded my agreement.


    ¡°And,¡± Ken went on, ¡°we¡¯re going to change up what you¡¯re learning starting tomorrow morning. That shield ring should give you a solid basic defense, and you know how to produce lightning, even if you¡¯re not expert at it. Though I¡¯ll bet you could control it well in a pinch. So we¡¯re going to go back to basics tomorrow morning, and do this the right way from now on, instead of the quick way.¡±


    Tension I¡¯d been carefully ignoring melted out of my shoulders and back. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, so earnestly that he smiled.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± Ken said, ¡°and I apologize. The lesson plans your father left me are comprehensive, but not gentle, and I can see that they¡¯ll put a mental strain on you that he hadn¡¯t anticipated. I must adjust accordingly.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re flexible enough to do so,¡± I teased him gently.


    He bowed to me, then smiled. ¡°Did you enjoy your evening at the pub?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not my usual thing,¡± I said, ¡°but I really did. Everyone was very welcoming and very friendly, without being too pushy. It was nice.¡±


    ¡°And Caley was really, really good at darts!¡± Sparkle added with her usual unbridled enthusiasm.


    Ken smiled. ¡°I had a feeling you would be,¡± he said to me. ¡°Well¡­I¡¯ll get back to my planning so I can be ready for your first new lesson tomorrow morning.¡±


    I gave him a small smile, a little relieved that he was giving me a bit of space before we started up again. ¡°Thank you, Ken. For listening, and for adjusting your plans to help me.¡±


    He bowed a little again, then departed. We watched him go, then I yawned, startling myself.


    Sparkle giggled. ¡°Bedtime!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s still a little early,¡± I said, ¡°but I think Ken is right¡­I think those lessons while I was asleep were taking a bit of a toll on me. So yeah, let¡¯s hit the sack early.¡±


    The kitchen door still opened onto the foyer - possibly because I¡¯d left the door open, that was something to experiment with - but my bedroom turned out to be hiding behind the door directly across from it. I was able to tell immediately on reentering the foyer, because I could clearly see the little purple fairy hanging on the door. So I was able to walk across the foyer to my bedroom door, open the door, and enter my bedroom.


    This was both convenient and a little bewildering¡­but it wasn¡¯t as bewildering as it had been a couple of days ago. It seemed I was adjusting.


    I stared into my bedroom for a minute¡­then closed the door again, turned, and headed for the double doors that led deeper into the House. Sparkle zipped up alongside me a moment later.


    ¡°Not ready for bed yet?¡± She asked.


    I shook my head, going through the doors and into a long hallway. ¡°I feel restless now. I want to walk a little first.¡±


    Sparkle nodded and fluttered along beside me.


    As I walked, I stopped occasionally to examine some of the works of art that filled the intermittent recesses in the walls. I spent a couple of minutes admiring a beautiful painting that showed a landscape that I thought might be Midwest America somewhere, as it showed an endless rolling field of golden wheat with a bald eagle flying above it. The subjects of the painting would¡¯ve been unremarkable except for two things: first, the level of detail was exquisite almost to the point of being photo-realistic, while still being distinctly an oil painting; second¡­like the painting of horses I''d examined a couple of days ago, it was moving. The wheat swayed in a gentle wind, and the eagle glided in graceful circles high above, sometimes closer, sometimes more distant.


    I found a marble bust of Sir Winston Churchill which was too lifelike for my comfort and whose eyes I thought were actually following me - literally, physically moving - as I walked back and forth in front of it.


    I paused to admire an ancient Greek amphora, almost a meter tall and painted with a scene that I thought depicted Pandora opening her box (which was, in the painting, represented by an amphorae that rather unsettlingly resembled the very one I was looking at). The thing radiated a weird, almost oily cold, so I quickly hurried away from it and tried to put it out of my mind.


    Dara had said the House had other secrets hidden in it. Perhaps I¡¯d just found one by accident.


    There was more. More, and more, and more. The House¡¯s endless halls were lined with artifacts (one nook held what I was reasonably certain was a genuine Egyptian sarcophagus, standing upright), paintings (that couldn¡¯t possibly be the real Mona Lisa, right?), and other strange and wonderful treasures (a scale model of Leonardo da Vinci¡¯s Aerial Screw that looked old enough to have been assembled by the man himself).


    Out of curiosity, I opened a few doors along the way to see what I could see.


    One door opened onto Moscow¡¯s famous Red Square, looking directly across at the Kremlin. Another revealed an alley lined with tiny bars that I thought might¡¯ve been in Tokyo. Some opened on places that I didn¡¯t recognize at all¡­most bizarrely, one opened into the middle of a forest, and when I cautiously stuck my head and shoulders through - holding tight to the molding and door knob - the door appeared to be set right into the base of an enormous tree.


    Sparkle, bless her little heart, seemed to understand that I was burning off some nervous energy and remained mostly silent. She stayed with me the whole time though, either flitting along beside me or perching on my right shoulder.


    The House, it seemed, was keeping a closer eye on me than I was keeping on myself. I was rather surprised some time later to find myself standing in front of my bedroom door, now deep inside the House. I blinked a couple of times and, on reviewing my mental and physical state, found that I now felt very tired and hadn¡¯t been paying much attention to my surroundings for several minutes.


    I smiled, and went into my bedroom. ¡°Time for bed, I think.¡±


    Sparkle lifted off from my shoulder and zoomed over to the windows, then back to the bed and did a rather spectacular (and very dramatic) crash-dive into the thick blanket. I could hear her giggling as I changed into a silk night-shirt and brushed my teeth. When I paused by the windows to watch the glittering lights of the fairies playing in the field outside, Sparkle landed on my shoulder again to watch with me for a minute.


    ¡°Do you miss it?¡± I asked her curiously.


    ¡°Being out there?¡± Sparkle asked.


    I nodded.


    ¡°Nope!¡± She answered with no hesitation at all. ¡°It¡¯s much better in here with you.¡±


    I decided not to pursue why. I wasn¡¯t ready to handle it tonight. ¡°I¡¯m glad.¡± I yawned.


    Sparkle gave my ear a tug. ¡°Come on, Caley. Time to sleep. I¡¯ll keep the bad dreams away.¡±


    I climbed into bed and watched as Sparkle zoomed over to the door, shut the bedroom lights off, and returned to the bed. She was already shedding her soft purple radiance, dispelling the shadows and making me feel safe and relaxed as she settled into her night light.


    ¡°Good night, Sparkle,¡± I said with a smile, rolling onto my side and curling up a bit. I could already feel sleep tugging at me.


    ¡°Good night, Caley,¡± she said softly, her voice filled with love. ¡°Sleep well.¡±

 Chapter 27

    I guess I was more tired than I thought - probably mentally rather than physically; it had been quite a day, after all - because I forgot to set my alarm clock, and it was almost ten in the morning when I finally woke up. I sat up and stretched, yawning and smiling up at Sparkle. She was already sitting in the open door of her night light, feet dangling, watching me.


    ¡°Good morning, Caley!¡± She said cheerfully when she saw me smiling at her. ¡°Ken was in about an hour ago to check on you. He left a breakfast cart for you.¡± She pointed.


    Indeed, an old-fashioned serving cart was sitting at the foot of the bed. It had a covered silver tray on it, and I could just faintly smell eggs, bacon and toast. My stomach promptly announced that if I planned to do anything else that day, I had better feed it first, so I applied myself to the provided breakfast.


    Ken had thoughtfully included a couple of cookies for Sparkle, who promptly gobbled them down.


    Having gotten a good night¡¯s sleep - I could only vaguely remember the most abstract and relaxing of dreams, no doubt Sparkle¡¯s doing - and a hearty breakfast, I gave some thought to exercise. I wasn¡¯t in the mood to go for a jog, but if I didn¡¯t start restoring some sort of routine, I¡¯d lose my muscle tone. Which I absolutely didn¡¯t want to do.


    My eyes drifted to the windows and the beautiful summer morning outside them. Today, there were fluffy clouds drifting across the clear blue sky, and the trees appeared to be showing signs of autumn¡­but not many signs. I somehow got the impression that this was likely as close to winter as I would ever see out of my bedroom windows.


    Apparently, I was feeling a bit rebellious that morning, too.


    ¡°Sparkle,¡± I said thoughtfully, ¡°if I stay in the clearing, do you think it would be safe for me to go outside?¡±


    Sparkle nodded. ¡°I don¡¯t see why not, as long as I¡¯m with you and as long as you stay in the clearing.¡±


    I nodded, went to the closet, and collected my battered old yoga mat. I changed into black spandex leggings and a matching short-sleeved t-shirt, pulled on socks and my green trainers (which made me realize that I was starting to ignore the semi-regular influx of new clothing and had begun to think of everything in the closet as ¡®mine¡¯ whether I recognized it or not), and headed for the window.


    Sparkle stayed beside me as I stepped up onto the bench at one of the spots that was clearly designed to be used as steps, opened one of the larger door-like panes, and hesitated.


    ¡°Should I leave this open?¡± I asked Sparkle.


    ¡°You can,¡± Sparkle said. ¡°Nothing can get in without your express permission. But even if you close it, you¡¯ll still be able to see it and find your way back to it without any trouble.¡± She hesitated, then added, ¡°Mistress Chessie could, anyway.¡±


    ¡°A reasonable assumption, then.¡±


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Sparkle added breezily, ¡°you can always use the Master Key to find the nearest entrance to the House.¡±


    Now that was a useful piece of information, and one that I immediately filed away as critical. ¡°Good to know,¡± I said. Then I put my yoga mat down on the bench, unlocked the pane, swung it outwards like the door it resembled, and stepped through.


    There was a gap about the size of a stair between the bottom of the windowsill and the ground outside, so it was an easy step down onto the lush green grass. Feeling a bit paranoid, I decided to leave the window open, just in case.


    The grass was as neatly trimmed as the lawn outside the House, so I guessed that someone - maybe the fairies? - was tending to it regularly. Turning around, I saw¡­well¡­


    ¡­I saw my bedroom windows hanging in mid-air, which made my brain flinch for a moment, before simply giving up and accepting it. I walked to the edge of the window frame and, as I¡¯d half expected, when I stuck my head around the other side, I was still looking into my bedroom.


    Which made absolutely no sense, but¡­magic.


    I shrugged a little and looked around. The clearing outside my windows was about - at an estimate - fifty or sixty meters across. Not large, but big enough, and surrounded by forest on all sides. The temperature was¡­honestly it was just perfect. I could¡¯ve comfortably sunbathed in a bikini (if I had one) or come outside in jeans and a sweatshirt. It felt like the temperature would be comfortable regardless.


    And I clearly wasn¡¯t the first person to use it. There was a stone bird bath (sadly empty) with a hexagonal bowl standing off to one side, along with a device atop a pole that looked like the bottom part of a bird feeder. When I examined it, I realized that it was designed to have a two litre soda bottle screwed into it.


    Bizarre. Maybe it was some sort of home-made feeder that my mother had put together when she was a child. But I also felt the tell-tale tingle of magic from it, suggesting that it was enchanted. Holding my left hand out to it, I closed my eyes and concentrated on it for a moment the way Ken had taught me, and got an impression of preservation, prolonging, and protecting.


    I opened my eyes again, tipped my head, then looked around. ¡°Sparkle? Do you know what this was for?¡±


    She zoomed over from where she¡¯d been looking longingly at the empty bird bath and giggled. ¡°Oh, sure! Mistress Chessie used to put out bottles of soda for the fairies.¡±


    I had a brief, vivid, and disturbingly amusing mental image of a field full of pixies hopped up on sugar and caffeine. ¡°Of course she did. I imagine the enchantments on it kept the soda fresh and bubbly even after it was opened.¡±


    Sparkle nodded excitedly. ¡°Are you gonna put some out?¡±


    I thought about it for a moment. ¡°I might at that. I take it the bird bath is for the fairies too?¡±


    Sparkle nodded some more. ¡°Yup!¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± I said, ¡°I should fill that, at least. Do you know where I can find a bucket?¡± Since there was no sign of an outdoor tap - let alone a wall - anywhere, I didn¡¯t even bother asking about a hose.


    ¡°Mistress Chessie used to fill it using magic,¡± Sparkle said.


    ¡°Ah,¡± I nodded. That made sense, and my brain immediately kicked out some pieces of one of Ken¡¯s dream lessons. Conjured water, I recalled, didn¡¯t last very long and while it would quench thirst, it wouldn''t hydrate a body. In fact, when it evaporated (in a matter of minutes), there would be no trace of it at all, leaving even dampened clothing completely dry.


    However, I could gather ''summon'' water out of the air, as long as there was sufficient moisture in the immediate area. It didn¡¯t feel humid in the clearing, but the air definitely wasn¡¯t dry. This was a practical application of magic that appealed to me greatly, and although I was a bit unsettled about my overachieving success casting lightning¡­


    No. I couldn¡¯t let myself be afraid of magic. I was going to do this.


    I turned to the bird bath, pondering my Latin. Ken¡¯s lessons had indicated that the verbal component didn¡¯t need to be perfect Latin¡­it would, in fact, benefit from not being perfect Latin, as that meant I was making up a word (or phrase) with connotations distinct to me. I wanted to fill the basin (which I noticed again was not a circle, and therefore could not be used to trap the fairies).


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    I wondered briefly if sign language could be used to cast spells silently and resolved to look into it.


    Okay. I sucked on my bottom lip, closed my eyes, and stretched out my hand - palm forward, fingers outstretched - over the basin. I built a mental image of an empty, transparent sphere forming in front of my palm. I opened one eye to look at the basin, decided I was better off over-estimating the amount of water needed than under, and mentally increased the size of the sphere before closing my eye again. Then I imagined moisture drawing out of the air and gathering into the invisible sphere, filling it with water, much the same way I¡¯d imagined gathering energy for my wind and lightning spells.


    That tripped a thought that I was only working with half of what I needed there, so I also imagined energy gathering with the water, to power the spell I was casting.


    I opened my eyes, breathed in and out calmly, and murmured, ¡°Impleaqua.¡±


    To my absolute delight - I almost bounced on my toes in excitement - moisture began condensing out of the air and streaming into a roughly spherical shape in front of my hand. In moments, I had a basketball-sized sphere of gently rolling water floating in front of my hand. I gathered a bit more, until I thought it was enough to fill the basin.


    Keeping my excitement firmly in check, not wanting to lose my hold on the spell, I slowly lowered the sphere into the basin¡­then released my hold on the spell.


    The water immediately splashed into the basin, overflowing the edges - incidentally splashing some onto my trainers - and sloshing around a bit before settling down. I¡¯d been close¡­there was less than a centimeter left between the lip of the basin and the water within.


    ¡°Yes!¡± I cried, thrusting both fists into the air in triumph.


    Sparkle zoomed circles around me, cheering. ¡°That was fantastic, Caley!¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Ken¡¯s voice said from nearby, ¡°it was. Very well done.¡±


    I looked over to see him standing just inside my open bedroom window, watching me with an expression that was both severe and pleased at the same time. ¡°I¡¯m impressed that you pulled that spell together on the fly, but didn¡¯t I tell you not to go out into the clearing until you¡¯d had some training?¡±


    Sparkle huffed. ¡°Oh, pish. She¡¯s perfectly safe out here.¡±


    Ken looked torn. ¡°But¡­¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said, walking back over to the window. ¡°I¡¯m out here for a reason. Yoga mat, please.¡± I held out my hands to him.


    He glanced down, sighed, and handed me the rolled up mat from where I¡¯d left it on the bench. ¡°How do you feel after casting that spell?¡±


    I untied the mat and spread it out on the grass near the windows. ¡°Kind of hungry, but otherwise okay.¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°That¡¯s excellent. Your body¡¯s already learning to metabolize energy efficiently. Caley¡­¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said firmly, sitting down on the mat and starting my exercises. ¡°You¡¯re not talking me out of this. It¡¯s beautiful out here, and I need to keep up with my exercise. This is as good a place to do so as any.¡±


    I could almost hear Ken grinding his teeth, and knew without looking up at him that his jaw would be clenched. Finally, after a minute, he let out a gusty sigh. ¡°Fine. But I¡¯m staying right here until you¡¯re back inside.¡±


    ¡°Actually,¡± I said, ¡°you could do me a favor in the meantime.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Bring me a bottle of cola for the feeder.¡± I said it without looking up, without so much as smiling. But I knew that asking him to go away even briefly would tweak him. It was a petty, largely insignificant revenge, but it felt good all the same.


    I mentally rebuked myself - such behavior was both beneath me and more than a bit cruel - but even the rebuke was weak. I was, it seemed, still a bit irritated with him.


    Then I realized with a pang that it was the first time since we''d met that I''d straight-up issued an order to him. He might not be able to not do it. I felt a pang of genuine guilt at that.


    I''d apologize when he returned.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he ground out, clearly trying to hold onto his composure. ¡°I¡¯ll be right back.¡±


    Sparkle collapsed to the grass giggling as soon as he was gone, and I smiled at her. ¡°Now now,¡± I said. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t really have done that, it was petty of me and a little bit cruel.¡±


    ¡°Y-you should,¡± Sparkle gasped between giggles, ¡°have s-seen¡­the look on his face!¡±


    I smiled in spite of myself. ¡°I kind of wish I had. Bit pinched, was it?¡±


    She nodded and collapsed in another fit of giggles. Then, in an instant, she was hovering beside me, all laughter gone as she faced away from me.


    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked softly.


    She relaxed and smiled, settling onto the mat beside me, watchful. ¡°Company, but just curious company.¡±


    I glanced over my shoulder and saw two female fairies - similar in shape to Sparkle but a bit smaller, one silver and one red - settling onto the edge of the bird bath. They looked back at me curiously, but didn¡¯t say anything or approach any closer.


    So I just smiled and nodded to them, then returned to my exercises.


    By the time Ken returned less than ten minutes later, there were a dozen fairies - male and female - perched on the bird bath and feeder pole, watching me curiously. There was a hushed, excited murmur of sound from them as he set a bottle of cola on the window sill. ¡°I see you have an audience,¡± he said, sounding only a little sour.


    I looked up at him and smiled. ¡°A couple of them have been trying to mimic me. It¡¯s adorable.¡±


    Ken¡¯s sour face melted a bit then, turning into a fond smile. ¡°Yes, it is rather.¡± He appeared to lean against the sill, then I realized that he might actually be leaning against it, since he couldn¡¯t pass through. ¡°Give them time and enough attention, and you¡¯ll never get rid of them.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure why I¡¯d want to,¡± I said seriously, then raised my voice a little. ¡°I hope they¡¯ll keep dancing outside my windows at night. It¡¯s ever so beautiful to watch.¡±


    That got a murmur of happy, appreciative sound from my tiny audience. Sparkle giggled.


    Ken chuckled softly. ¡°Fair enough. How long will this take?¡± He sounded more curious than anything else.


    ¡°Half an hour,¡± I said, shifting into another position. ¡°Maybe forty-five minutes if I really get into it. I''m sorry, Ken¡­I was being very petty when I ordered you to get that bottle of soda instead of asking.¡±


    He nodded a little, hesitated, then sighed. "I understand¡­and I forgive you. I¡¯ll just get the bathroom ready for you, and lay out some clothes for you.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Ken!¡± I called after his retreating back. He raised a hand in acknowledgment and moved out of my line of sight.


    Once I was sufficiently warmed up, I shifted to Tai Chi, which seemed to fascinate my fairy audience. Sparkle watched me curiously for a minute, then started trying to mimic what I was doing. My movements were already slow enough and fluid enough for her to follow, and before long she was keeping up with me reasonably well (except when I switched forms, which made her giggle until she got the hang of the new one).


    It wasn¡¯t long before the little silver and red fairies joined Sparkle - though they stayed off the mat and out of my reach, I noticed - in doing my exercises with me. By the time I finished, my audience had grown to maybe three dozen fairies (most of them smaller than even than Silver and Red, as my mind had dubbed them), and maybe a third of them were mimicking my exercises with varying levels of success.


    A fair number of them had lined the outside of the windowsill and were sitting or standing to watch me (or, in the case of those closer to it, the soda bottle). As I wound down and sat down on the mat to stretch, the ones nearest me scattered back to the bird bath and windowsill, except for Silver and Red, who just jumped back a few inches. Sparkle flitted over to talk quietly with them¡­probably gossiping about me, from the way the two smaller fairies (they were about half a head shorter than Sparkle) kept glancing up at me.


    Ken had returned to the window by then, and was leaning against the inside of it by the open pane. The fairies on the windowsill had ignored him completely, which I found interesting.


    I finished and laid back on the mat, looking up at the bright blue sky and puffy white clouds. ¡°It is really quite beautiful out here,¡± I said.


    ¡°I agree,¡± Ken said, and I realized that he wasn¡¯t watching me¡­he was watching the edge of the woods uneasily. ¡°Why don¡¯t you come back in, and we can start your new magic lessons.¡±


    I sat up, nodded, then rose slowly. ¡°All right.¡± I rolled up my mat and walked back to the windows, scattering the fairies perched there. ¡°Please?¡± I held out the mat to him.


    Ken smiled and took it.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I returned his smile, then collected the bottle of soda. ¡°All right, let¡¯s see how this thing works¡­¡±


    I walked back over to the feeder, Sparkle joining me halfway there. ¡°Mistress Chessie designed it so she could leave the cap on and not have to worry about it spilling.¡±


    I huffed a relieved little laugh. ¡°I was trying to figure out how I was going to get it on there without spilling cola everywhere. Thank you.¡± Then I examined the holder, nodded to myself, flipped the bottle upside-down and settled it into the round brace designed to hold it. The capped mouth of the bottle slid into a port that fitted it perfectly, and after a moment there was a soft hiss and soda began trickling down into the glass dispenser below.


    Fairies, as I had now seen, were shockingly quiet creatures when they wanted to be. So the sudden susurration of sound behind me, accompanied by the brief buzzing of literally dozens of sets of wings, clued me in that I needed to get out of the way.


    So I backed away quickly, Sparkle landing neatly on my shoulder as I backpedaled.


    Before I was three feet away, fairies - led by Silver and Red - descended on the feeder with a joyous cheer. I barely made it out of range before the feeder was surrounded by a dizzyingly colorful cloud of blurred forms as they jockeyed for position.


    I laughed, I couldn¡¯t help it. ¡°Maybe I should put up another one.¡±


    Sparkle giggled. ¡°I¡¯m sure they wouldn¡¯t mind.¡±


    I watched the scrum for a moment before shaking my head. ¡°Remind me to refill those tomorrow morning, please.¡±


    ¡°Okay, Caley!¡± Sparkle said happily.


    Ken backed away from the window as I approached, and we went back inside.

 Chapter 28

    I closed up the window behind us and smiled at Ken. "Thanks for putting up with that. The fresh air helped clear my head."


    He nodded. "Are you ready to start again?"


    My turn to nod, firmly. "I''m ready."


    "Do you want to shower first, or¡­?" He gestured to the open bathroom door. On the bed, I saw he''d laid out an outfit not unlike what I''d worn to town yesterday¡­a dark red short-sleeved shirt, a forest green pleated knee-length skirt, and dark tights. Underwear laid beside it (cream colored), and a pair of flats that matched the skirt sat on the floor at the foot of the bed.


    Very nice, but maybe not very practical for learning to cast spells. Anyway, I hadn''t really worked up much of a sweat, so¡­ "I think I''ll wait until after we''re done with my practical lesson."


    "In that case," Ken said, "let''s go down to the lab -"


    I cut him off by holding up one finger and waggling it.


    He sighed. "Fine. The workshop. You''re taking the fun out of it!" His protest was a teasing one.


    I laughed softly. "As long as I don''t end up feeling like a mad scientist, I''m okay with that, and you''re just going to have to live with it." I paused in the doorway. "Um¡­pardon the pun."


    He waved it off. "It''s unavoidable when speaking to a spirit like me. I don''t mind."


    "Thank goodness," I said, and headed out to find the workshop.


    The House appeared to have decided that I was in the mood for a bit of a walk that morning - and it wasn''t wrong - because it took us about ten minutes to get there. During which time, I said to Ken, "So, I take it we''re not going to be throwing lightning around again for a while."


    "No," he agreed, "we''re not. Your rather spectacular success showed me that we really need to start by working on your ability to gather and control the amount of energy you''re working with before we move back into really throwing energy around." He glanced at me. "Your reaction to it showed me that I should''ve eased you into the idea a bit more gradually." He grimaced. "Sorry about that."


    I sighed a little. "It''s all right, I guess. Dara explained more of what the House is to me yesterday, and I think I understand a bit better why it''s so important for me to learn to defend myself."


    "That''s good," he sounded more than a little relieved. "But I think we''ll still go at it a bit more gradually, at least for now. There are many other things I can teach you about magic that I think will serve you well in the long run. Perhaps even better than being able to throw lightning."


    I smiled a bit. "I did find myself wishing I could conjure a light while I was walking home last night."


    "I helped!" Sparkle said happily.


    "Yes you did," I agreed. "I probably would''ve tripped over a rock if you hadn''t lit up the road for me."


    Sparkle swirled around my head twice and landed on my shoulder again. It was astonishing how much energy she had when she was happy about something. Or was excited about something. Or was just awake.


    "That," Ken said, "was actually what I planned to teach you today. To conjure light."


    I let us into the workshop, and sat down on one of the tall stools by the workbench I''d occupied previously.


    "So," Ken began, "you would think that conjuring light is simple."


    "Actually," I said, thinking about it, "I wouldn''t. I think it will be fairly complicated, and said complexity will depend strongly on what kind of light I''m trying to conjure."


    Ken stared at me, his mouth hanging open a little.


    I felt my cheeks warming. "I mean¡­I would think it''ll be harder and more complicated to conjure true daylight, as opposed to just producing the magical equivalent of a forty watt light bulb."


    Ken blinked twice, then started laughing.


    I felt my blush deepen. "What?"


    He shook his head. "I''m being a fool. I''ve gone from overestimating your ability to handle my lessons, to underestimating it. I apologize. You are quite correct, the type and intensity of the light you''re conjuring will have a large impact on how difficult it is to accomplish, and how much energy it takes."


    "It only stands to reason," I said, gesturing idly with one hand. "I mean¡­it takes more electricity to power a flood lamp than it does to power a lamp bulb. And I can only imagine how complicated producing light that has the actual wavelength and makeup of sunlight must be."


    "It''s complicated," Ken agreed, "but valuable to know. Vampires - among other night-dwelling creatures - can be weakened or even hurt, at the extreme, by true sunlight."


    "Why?" I asked, my brain briefly being dragged off topic by curiosity. "Does it have something to do with ultraviolet light?"


    Ken smiled and shook his head. "Your father actually ran a few experiments along those lines with the help of a friendly vampire."


    "There is such a thing?" I asked.


    "Oh yes," Ken said seriously, "vampires are quite real."


    I gave him a small smile. ¡°I rather assumed that you weren¡¯t pulling my leg about that. I mean¡­I¡¯m being taught magic by a ghost, my new best friends are a fairy and a hamadryad, and my law firm is apparently made up of Sidhe lords. I¡¯m prepared to take the existence of pretty much any mythological creature on faith at this point. I meant friendly vampires.¡±


    Ken chuckled. ¡°Fair enough. And yes, there are friendly vampires. We¡¯ll get into supernatural creatures later, though. For now, I want you to start with creating a ball of light above your palm. It doesn¡¯t need to be bright, or any color in particular, but it must be luminous. So, walk me through your initial steps for constructing such a spell.¡±


    I nodded and thought about it for a minute, keeping firmly in mind what I¡¯d done earlier to fill the bird bath. ¡°First, I will visualize the result I want out of the spell. How large the ball of light will be, how bright it will be.¡±


    ¡°What about how long it lasts?¡± Ken interjected.


    I blinked. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°How long do you want it to last?¡± he asked with a smile. ¡°This isn¡¯t like the water you summoned earlier¡­it¡¯s not something pre-existing that you¡¯re pulling together. The energy for your little ball of light exists, but unless you¡¯re going to draw in light - and I wouldn¡¯t advise trying that just yet - you¡¯re going to be converting energy into radiance. In order for that to work for more than an instant or two, you need to consider the ongoing cost in energy of keeping it extant.¡±


    I nodded. That made perfect sense, though now I was wondering what would happen if I tried drawing in light. Something not very good, from the sound of it. I let it go for now and concentrated on the task at hand.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said, ¡°so I need to account for an ongoing flow of energy from myself to the ball of light. Not too much, not too little.¡± I imagined it, rather whimsically, as tiny beads of invisible energy emerging from my skin and zipping into the ball of light to keep it lit. Maybe not the perfect visualization, but¡­


    ¡°Once I have the visualization firmly in mind, I need a verbal component to focus it. I think a simple ¡®lux¡¯ should work nicely in this case,¡± I said.


    Ken nodded. ¡°Agreed. Short and sweet.¡±


    I held out my right hand palm up. ¡°Then I envision the energy flowing down my arm to my hand, out into the air above it to form my light.¡± I did just that, feeling the tingling sensation in my palm. ¡°Finally, lux!¡±


    A ball of light, about as bright as a sixty watt bulb and as big around as a baseball, appeared in the air above my right palm. Then it vanished with a little pop.


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    I frowned at the place where it had been. ¡°Okay, what did I do wrong?¡±


    Sparkle giggled in my right ear. ¡°You didn¡¯t maintain the flow of energy. I felt it stop.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°Damn.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± Ken said reassuringly, ¡°that was an excellent start anyway. Nice and bright, but not blinding. You could probably make it a bit smaller, but for our purposes right now that doesn¡¯t matter much.¡±


    ¡°All right,¡± I said, still frowning a little. Perhaps my visualization of little beads of energy going into the light wasn¡¯t quite what I needed. Instead, I imagined the light tethered to my hand by an invisible string of energy, and tried again.


    ¡°Lux.¡±


    Again, the ball of light appeared above my right palm¡­and this time (with a slight flicker) it remained there, hovering, shedding light, and¡­I blinked. ¡°There¡¯s no heat. How is there no heat coming from it?¡± Curiously, I prodded it with my left index finger, which sank into the ball of light and emerged unscathed. All I felt was a weird sensation like something feather-light brushing against my skin.


    Ken laughed softly. ¡°It¡¯s magic. All you¡¯re doing is creating light. If you want it to throw off heat, you¡¯ll need to add more energy to it and add that as a component of the spell.¡±


    I looked at him. ¡°You can¡¯t have light without some kind of heat. Even LED bulbs throw off some heat.¡±


    He smiled at me, gently, affectionately. ¡°It¡¯s magic.¡±


    ¡°But¡­physics!¡± I protested, my brain scrambling.


    ¡°You¡¯re bending it,¡± he said, still smiling.


    I stared at the ball of glowing, heatless light that floated unmoving above my right palm. ¡°Holy crap.¡± Well, this was quite a revelation. Intellectually I¡¯d understood that by casting spells I would frequently be bending the laws of physics, but I thought that this was probably breaking at least one outright. ¡°How?¡±


    Ken spread his hands. ¡°Magic. Mind you, eventually - unless you¡¯re drawing in ambient energy, which I haven¡¯t taught you to do yet - you¡¯ll run out of power for it and the light will go out. But understand that you¡¯re working with a fraction of the amount of energy it usually takes to run a light bulb of roughly that size and luminance. That¡¯s probably at least partly why magical light casts no heat unless specifically designed to.¡±


    Okay, so this wasn¡¯t actually breaking the laws of physics, it was just bending them. LED bulbs, I remembered reading somewhere, did generate heat¡­but were much more efficient about releasing what little they generated. Since this was using very little energy, Ken was right¡­that probably had some bearing on it.


    ¡°I¡¯m not using much energy,¡± I murmured. Then, with an effort of will, I shrank the light to the size of a pea without it losing any of its brilliance. In fact, I was able to make it brighter without any problem at all. Then I expanded it to the size of a softball, then tried to grow it further¡­


    ¡­And it blinked out of existence with a soft pop.


    I nodded. ¡°That makes sense,¡± I said. ¡°I can decrease the size with the same amount of energy input, but to increase it past a certain point will require more energy.¡±


    Ken beamed at me. ¡°Precisely. Now, do it again.¡±


    For the next two hours, Ken had me create balls of light in various sizes, shapes, amounts of luminance, and even had me make several at one time. I learned to make them go where I wanted to and stay there, how to change their color and even how to focus them to create a beam of light rather than an omni-directional one.


    Finally, I held up a hand and doubled over, putting my hands on my knees. ¡°Whew. I need a break,¡± I said. ¡°I feel like I just jogged into town.¡±


    Ken chuckled. ¡°But look at how long you were able to keep doing that! Remember your first wind spell leaving you so drained that you almost passed out? You¡¯ve been casting light spells for two hours and you¡¯re just a bit winded.¡±


    My stomach rumbled noisily.


    ¡°And getting hungry,¡± I added.


    ¡°That¡¯s only to be expected,¡± Ken agreed. ¡°But you¡¯ve come very far in a very short time.¡±


    I sat back down on the stool as Sparkle fluttered over with a bottle of water for me. It was bigger than she was, but somehow she managed it without too much difficulty, holding it by the neck.


    ¡°Thank you, Sparkle,¡± I said as I took it from her, opened it, and slowly drank from it. ¡°So, this would be easier if I were drawing energy from the environment?¡±


    Ken waggled one translucent hand back and forth. ¡°Sort of yes, sort of no. One of the things I¡¯m going to teach you is that magic is everywhere. If you know how, there¡¯s a bottomless well of energy available for you to draw from the environment to cast spells with.¡±


    ¡°I sense a ¡®but¡¯ coming,¡± I said, smiling a little.


    ¡°More than one, actually,¡± Ken chuckled. ¡°The biggest is that - as I told you previously - when you draw in energy from outside yourself to cast a spell, your body still needs to¡­to metabolize it, for lack of a better term. You¡¯ll have a lot more energy to use, but it¡¯s going to be just as taxing to use.¡±


    He let me chew on that for a couple of minutes as I slowly sipped water. ¡°So,¡± I said finally, ¡°I could gather energy from outside myself to cast a larger or more energy-intensive spell, but it would wear me out at the same rate? Or faster?¡±


    ¡°The same rate, usually,¡± Ken said. ¡°It depends on the source of the energy, really. Drawing energy from a source you have affinity for to cast a spell you have affinity for won¡¯t be as draining as drawing energy from a source you don¡¯t have affinity for to cast a spell you don¡¯t have affinity for.¡±


    I chewed on that for a moment, translating it into terms that I had a frame of reference for. ¡°If I drew energy from the air¡­I guess?¡­to cast a wind spell, it wouldn¡¯t be as tiring for me as if I drew energy from fire to cast a fire spell?¡±


    ¡°Sort of,¡± Ken said, then shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s very complicated. But you¡¯ll find that once you know how to do it, it¡¯s pretty intuitive. You¡¯ll be able to feel it when you¡¯re doing something that¡¯s going to be particularly draining. It¡¯ll be¡­harder, in a manner of speaking. And you often won¡¯t know specifically what the source of magic you¡¯re drawing on is, if you¡¯re pulling in ambient energy. It¡¯s entirely different again if you¡¯re tapping into a Ley Line, and so on.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like the ¡®sort of¡¯s and ¡®it¡¯s complicated¡¯s,¡± I said dryly. ¡°I thought magic was a bit more quantifiable than that.¡±


    Ken spread his hands helplessly. ¡°Magic is what it is. Sometimes it¡¯s as clear as crystal. Other times, often for no discernible reason, it¡¯s murky and indistinct.¡±


    ¡°You''re making it sound like magic is alive again,¡± I huffed.


    ¡°It kinda is,¡± Sparkle said from where she was now perched atop what I assumed was a distilling machine for potion making, to judge by the framework of tubes, beakers, vials, flasks, and other more arcane-looking implements. ¡°Magic is both immutable, and ever changing.¡± She spread her arms. ¡°Magic is like the ocean. It¡¯s huge, and deep, and both understandable and forever mysterious.¡±


    ¡°She watched a lot of nature programs with your mother,¡± Ken explained, seeing the bemused look on my face.


    ¡°Ah. Well, thank you, Sparkle. That actually made sense. Bottom line: at the end of the day, I need to be prepared for magic to make sense, and to leave me boggled,¡± I said.


    ¡°Sometimes both at once,¡± Ken agreed.


    I took a deep breath and let it out. ¡°I can handle this.¡±


    Sparkle beamed at me. ¡°Of course you can.¡±


    Her absolute, bedrock-solid certainty was soothing. I just hoped she was right.


    ¡°So, am I learning to draw in magic today?¡± I asked.


    Ken shook his head. ¡°Not today. You¡¯re doing very well at regulating the amount of energy going into a spell, and shaping the spell beyond its basic components, but I¡¯d like to get just a bit more theory under your belt before trying anything more complicated again. And maybe a few more days of practice.¡±


    I liked the sound of that. ¡°Good. What¡¯s next, then?¡±


    ¡°After lunch, I thought we could start brushing up on your fencing,¡± Ken suggested. ¡°Many members of the supernatural world still consider the art of swordplay to be not only viable, but an honorable way to settle disagreements.¡±


    ¡°Charming,¡± I said dryly. ¡°Well, I¡¯m already dressed for exercise. I studied saber fencing, by the way, so I learned to use both the point and the edge of the foil for scoring points.¡±


    ¡°Which will serve you in good stead with a real sword,¡± Ken nodded. ¡°You might do well with a smallsword, or a short rapier¡­we¡¯ll look into that after you¡¯ve eaten something. And later this afternoon, we should really start going over your properties and finances¡­¡±


    Before he could say more, a soft bell rang in the room, seeming to come from thin air.


    I looked around in confusion...the sound seemed to come from both everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It sounded exactly like an old-fashioned pull-chain doorbell.


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember seeing a doorbell out front,¡± I said to Ken.


    Ken was blinking in obvious astonishment. ¡°That¡¯s...not the front door. It¡¯s one of the doors inside the House.¡±


    ¡°One of the ones that goes somewhere else in the world?¡± I asked.


    He nodded, then looked at me. ¡°If you concentrate, you should be able to sense where in the House the door is.¡±


    As soon as he said it, my mind veered in that direction, and I suddenly could sense ¨C not far away ¨C a door that was trying to get my attention. ¡°Yes, I can, but is it wise to answer it?¡± I was terribly unsettled by the idea of someone knocking on one of the mystery doors that I had very little knowledge of yet.


    Ken nodded, already heading for the hallway. ¡°It should be perfectly safe. By the time your father died, there were only three or four people in the outside world who knew how to find any of the House¡¯s doors other than the front door, and all of them were perfectly trustworthy.¡±


    I hurried after him, Sparkle flitting from where she¡¯d been perched to settle on my right shoulder. ¡°Oh. You know, I feel like there¡¯s still an awful lot that I should know, that I haven¡¯t been told yet...¡±


    Ken sighed. ¡°I know. And I¡¯m sorry. I thought we¡¯d have a lot more time to cover the basics before something like this happened.¡±


    ¡°Throwing lightning is the basics?¡± I asked dryly.


    Ken hesitated. ¡°I¡¯ve already admitted that we started in the wrong place...¡±


    I held up a hand. ¡°I know, I know. It just seems like every time I feel that I¡¯m getting my feet under me, something quickly disabuses me of the notion.¡±


    ¡°Which way do we need to go?¡± Ken asked as we reached an intersection of hallways.


    I frowned at him. ¡°Ken...¡±


    He pivoted to look at me, looking a bit uncertain. ¡°It¡¯ll get better,¡± he said, ¡°it really will.¡±


    ¡°Okay. I believe you. More immediately, you haven¡¯t really told me why this is safe, or why it¡¯s so important to answer immediately.¡± I said. I was starting to feel a bit annoyed with him. ¡°I get that there should only be a few people who know how to find doors to the House out in the world, but...¡±


    He blinked a couple of times. ¡°Oh. Well, any of those people who¡¯re left at this point would probably be looking for aid in some way. One of your responsibilities as Guardian is to provide aid when -¡±


    I held up a hand. ¡°Stop. You and I are going to have a long talk about what it really means to be the Guardian, because you keep expanding on its definition - ¡±


    I was cut off as the bell rang again from everywhere and nowhere. It was soft, but pervasive and impossible to ignore.


    ¡° - After we see who¡¯s at the door,¡± I finished, then headed off down the hallway. I could indeed tell - roughly - where the door in question was. It was like a pulsing, intangible pressure on my mind, giving me a sense of where the alert was coming from and that there was a certain urgency to it. I found my body reacting to that urgency, breaking into a jog as we headed down the hallway.

 Chapter 29

    I found the door that was crying out for my attention less than a minute later, unlocked it, and opened it, revealing what I thought might be the center of London and two figures standing on a sidewalk. Cars went past behind them, and after a moment a double-decker red bus rolled by, confirming my suspicion about it being London.


    One of the people standing there was a beautiful woman, a little over six feet tall and strongly built, like someone who was used to regular intensive physical activity. Her golden hair was cut short, barely falling to the tops of her ears, and her eyes were the color of storm clouds. She wore blue jeans, a cream-colored Henley shirt, and a brown leather bomber jacket with matching knee-high leather boots. A sword - my study of British history told me it was a hand and a half longsword - hung at her left side, its well-worn leather grip bracketed by Celtic knot engravings and a slightly curved cruciform cross-guard.


    Standing beside and slightly behind her was a boy who looked to be in his late teens, maybe five years younger than me at most, dressed similarly (though wearing trainers rather than boots). He had messy brown hair and bright amber eyes that looked far, far too old for his young face. A canvas messenger bag hung at his side - I saw the words ¡®Bag of Holding¡¯ inexpertly embroidered on its flap - and a very plain oak staff was held in his left hand. It took my brain a moment to acknowledge that his ears were delicately pointed.


    ¡°I¡¯m terribly sorry to bother you,¡± the woman said in the thickest Midlands British accent I¡¯d ever heard, though I thought there were hints of both Wales and Scotland in it, ¡°I¡¯m sure you need more time to get settled in¡­¡± She trailed off, her eyes moving over me before returning to my face. ¡°Strewth. Must the women in your family always look nearly identical? It¡¯s bloody unnerving. For a moment there, I thought you were your grandmother. Still, I like your fashion sense.¡±


    The boy coughed. ¡°Pot, kettle.¡±


    Without looking around, she deftly lifted her left foot and brought her boot heel down on his toes. He yelped in surprised pain and hopped around behind her for a moment. ¡°Bloody hell, woman!¡±


    ¡°My problem is entirely different,¡± she said calmly. Then smiled at me. ¡°Terribly sorry to bother you, Guardian. I need to get to Edinburgh and I¡¯m very pressed for time.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡± I said, bewildered.


    Behind her, the boy kicked her left calf. She didn¡¯t so much as flinch. ¡°Manners, girl!¡± He said.


    The woman grimaced. ¡°Right, you have no idea who I am. My apologies.¡± She offered me her hand to shake. ¡°Ariana Pendragon, Knight of the Sword.¡±


    Years of having my manners trained to a fine point by Sister Sarah kicked in and I automatically shook her hand. ¡°Caitlyn Reid,¡± I said, then added, ¡°Guardian of the House.¡± It felt weirdly natural to identify myself that way. Then my brain caught up with my manners and I said, ¡°Pendragon? Like¡­¡± I couldn¡¯t quite bring myself to ask.


    Ariana nodded. ¡°My father.¡± Before my brain could even start processing that impossibility, she continued, ¡°And this is my companion - ¡°


    The boy interrupted her by offering me his hand and saying. ¡°Emrys Hawkins!¡± His smile was far too cheerfully innocent to be entirely real. Then his smile became genuine and he waved. ¡°Hello, Sparkle!¡±


    Sparkle, perched on my shoulder, giggled. ¡°Hi Emrys!¡±


    I stared at his hand, and this time my manners failed me entirely. ¡°Emrys Hawkins,¡± I said dryly. ¡°Bollocks.¡±


    Wherever she was, I was quite certain that Sister Sarah had just fainted.


    Ariana burst out laughing, pointing at the now pouting Emrys. ¡°I¡­I told you, old man¡­You owe me five quid!¡±


    He dug a fiver out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her, still pouting.


    I stared at him. ¡°Are you really - ¡°


    He interrupted me with an upraised hand before I could finish asking. ¡°I am, but don¡¯t use that name. Emrys is safer, and still really mine.¡±


    ¡°How¡­?¡± I couldn¡¯t even begin to frame all of the questions bubbling through my head.


    Ariana, back under control, looked at Ken. ¡°Have you taught her nothing yet, Caretaker?¡±


    He grimaced. ¡°My early lessons have not been a smashing success, Lady Knight. We¡¯re starting afresh today. And, in my defense, it¡¯s been less than a week.¡±


    ¡°Good lord,¡± Ariana said, then sighed. ¡°I¡¯m terribly sorry, Lady Reid, but I am too pressed for time to answer more questions right now than however long it takes us to reach a door to Edinburgh. If you will be so kind. Lives are at stake.¡±


    I glanced at Ken, who simply nodded, then I stepped back from the open door to give them room to enter. ¡°Please, come in. Give me a moment and I¡¯ll find a door to Edinburgh as close to this one as possible.¡±


    Ariana entered, murmuring, ¡°My sincerest thanks.¡±


    Once Emrys - my brain refused to even identify him yet as who he had to be - entered as well, I closed and locked the door, then looked around. A nearby location popped into my mind and my body oriented on it. ¡°This way. It¡¯s very close. It this very urgent?¡±


    ¡°Terribly,¡± Ariana said. ¡°We have maybe ten minutes. If that.¡±


    ¡°Our intel failed us for once,¡± Emrys said grimly. ¡°We¡¯re usually ahead of this sort of thing by a few days.¡±


    I glanced at Ken again, and raised an eyebrow.


    He shrugged a little. ¡°It¡¯s up to you. But I think it¡¯s safe in this case. At the very least, I am certain that these two are quite capable of keeping secrets, and the Lady Knight¡¯s business is saving lives.¡±


    Ariana and Emrys both looked confused.


    I took a deep breath and concentrated on communicating a sense of urgency to the House. If these two had lives to save, and had less than ten minutes to do so, I would help them by giving them back as much of that time as I could.


    The House approved. The wall beside us rippled like water and a door surfaced, becoming solid after only a few seconds.


    ¡°Oh my stars,¡± Emrys breathed.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen a Guardian do that before,¡± Ariana said, sounding impressed.


    ¡°Neither had I,¡± Ken said. ¡°I think she was able to the first time because she didn¡¯t realize she shouldn¡¯t be able to.¡±


    Emrys nodded sagely. ¡°Quite likely.¡±


    I ignored them, unlocked the door, and opened it onto Edinburgh. I wasn¡¯t precisely sure where, but I thought I could see part of Edinburgh Castle off to the right. ¡°There you are. Edinburgh.¡±


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Emrys tipped an imaginary hat to me. ¡°Pleasure meeting you, milady. We must talk shop once you¡¯re settled in.¡± Then he went through the door without another word.


    Ariana paused to shake my hand again. ¡°Thank you, Guardian. We¡¯ll come back another day, when there¡¯s time to talk. For now, we¡¯ve business. Farewell!¡± Then she was gone after her mentor.


    Emrys¡­Merlin¡­wanted to talk shop with me. I felt a little bit light-headed.


    I watched them hurry down the street and out of sight before closing the door and looking at Ken. ¡°Explain,¡± I said flatly. ¡°Now.¡±


    Ken smiled wryly. ¡°Even if I wanted to, I have only fragments of the truth about those two. Will you accept an abbreviated version for now?¡±


    I considered that for a moment, then nodded. ¡°Yes. I imagine they¡¯re not your secrets to tell anyway, judging from what you said about them keeping secrets well.¡±


    ¡°Very true,¡± Ken said, then gestured. ¡°Let¡¯s head to the kitchen while we talk, shall we?¡±


    Sparkle launched herself from my shoulder to fly ahead of us as we started off down the hall. ¡°All right, brief me, please.¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°That was indeed the daughter of Arthur Pendragon and Guinevere, and¡­Arthur¡¯s mentor and adviser. It is, as Emrys indicated, best not to use his name when he¡¯s around. His uncle, King Oberon of the Seelie Court, has it in for him.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± I said, and made a mental note - blast it all, I really needed a pocket notebook - to refresh my knowledge of the Fairy Courts in¡­


    I stopped walking, put a hand to my forehead, and sighed.


    ¡°Caley?¡± Ken asked, concerned. I heard the buzz of Sparkle¡¯s wings as she circled my head.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said. ¡°I just caught myself about to think of the Sidhe in terms of fairy tales and folklore. I need to cement the reality of these things in my mind soon.¡± I lowered my hand and sighed. ¡°It¡¯s hard.¡±


    ¡°You have more than twenty years of grounded reality to shake off,¡± Ken said gently. ¡°The world is much weirder than you ever realized, and it¡¯ll take a bit of time to adjust to that. But I should start teaching you about the Sidhe in earnest soon. In the meantime, suffice it to say that Emrys¡¯ uncle is a very powerful, very dangerous, and very capricious being who holds a great deal of hatred for his nephew.¡±


    ¡°Got it,¡± I said, and started walking again. ¡°So, how is Ariana still alive after¡­how old is she?¡±


    ¡°Old,¡± Ken said. ¡°Older than the House, I believe. The sword she carries - and before you ask I don¡¯t think it¡¯s Excalibur, but one of the others that have been mis-identified as Excalibur over the years - is cursed to bring immortal life to its bearer. I don¡¯t know the specifics, or how she came into possession of it, but I know that she¡¯s made excellent use of the curse by protecting vanilla mortals from supernatural predators.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s one way to make a curse work for you,¡± I said.


    Ken nodded. ¡°Indeed. As I understand it - it was before my time, just a generation or two after the House was built - she made a deal with your many-times great-grandmother to use the House¡¯s doors should she ever need quick passage to another location. I don¡¯t think she¡¯s done it more than two dozen times since¡­as far as I can recall, I only saw her twice while your parents were alive, and three times in the fifty years before that.¡±


    ¡°All right,¡± I said thoughtfully. ¡°That sounds like it could be a beneficial relationship to continue. If I ever find myself in need of help, would they come?¡±


    ¡°If they¡¯re free,¡± Ken nodded. ¡°They did that once to help deal with a pack of werewolves back in the 1830¡¯s.¡±


    A strange tension deep in the pit of my stomach that I hadn¡¯t been consciously aware of broke and melted away. I realized it had been there since I¡¯d decided to stay in the House, and discovered that I¡¯d been worried about having no support structure beyond Ken (who couldn¡¯t act beyond the confines of the house), Sparkle (whose abilities were still largely unknown to me), and the lawyers at Summers & Winters (whose aid in a crisis I had no way at all of judging, except to assume that they could throw vast sums of money at it).


    As long as I didn¡¯t mess up building some sort of friendship with Ariana and Emrys, I would have peers of a sort. I wasn¡¯t completely alone.


    ¡°I¡¯m very glad to hear it,¡± I said fervently. ¡°You said there were only three or four people in the world who knew how to find the House¡¯s doors. I just met two of them, so who are the others?¡±


    ¡°One of them is the lead agent of a U.N. sanctioned organization called the Supernatural Defense Agency, an American named Gabriel O¡¯Connell.¡± Ken frowned a little. ¡°He visited your father once after your mother died, but I can¡¯t remember why. The other is an Australian woman whose name I appear to have had blanked out by your father. I know she¡¯s out there, but¡­that¡¯s all I can remember.¡± He grimaced a little.


    I watched him. ¡°Those blank spots in your memory are uncomfortable.¡±


    He nodded a bit. ¡°When I brush up against them, yes. Especially when I run into one by accident like that. They are, after all, pieces of myself that I don¡¯t have access to. I am¡­diminished, I suppose.¡± He sighed. ¡°But never mind, I¡¯m sure the information will be there if it¡¯s ever necessary.¡±


    I stopped abruptly and opened a door on our right without thinking about it, revealing the kitchen. ¡°Lunch?¡± I asked.


    Ken smiled and chuckled. ¡°Lunch.¡±


    ¡°Yay!¡± Sparkle cheered.


    After lunch, Ken directed me to find a room he called ¡®the armory¡¯, and in a few minutes I was standing in a room with walls of rough cut stone. Every inch of wall space was covered by racks of weapons ranging from Bronze Age to late Victorian, but without a firearm in sight. There were swords of every shape and size, polearms and spears, axes, war hammers, maces, and things I was completely unfamiliar with. I sensed no magic from any of them, but they were well-preserved and (even to my inexpert eye) obviously well-made.


    They all had one thing in common¡­a plain, unadorned seriousness that made the atmosphere of the room feel heavy. These were not novelty collectibles, these were weapons.


    Ken looked me up and down before drifting over to a rack of rapiers and similar slim blades. ¡°Let¡¯s see,¡± he said. ¡°You studied sabre, you said, but I think a straight blade will be more practical¡­¡±


    I followed him. ¡°I won¡¯t argue. In fencing, it really just means that I learned to use both the tip and edge to score points.¡±


    ¡°Mmm,¡± he looked at the blades on the rack and nodded. ¡°I think we have something here that will suit you.¡± He pulled down a sheathed sword and offered it to me.


    It was just shy of a meter long from tip to pommel, its hilt wrapped in braided black wire. The rest of the pommel and double loop hilt was also black, and completely undecorated. I wrapped my fingers around the hilt and drew it out.


    The blade made up most of the sword¡¯s length, and was - to my surprise - only slightly tapered from base to tip and had a double edge. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen a smallsword with a double edge before. I thought they were thrusting weapons.¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°This design was popular briefly in the late 1700¡¯s. Very versatile, light and good for both dueling and close-quarters fighting, thrusting and cutting.¡±


    ¡°And you want me to learn to use this why, again?¡±


    Ken sighed as I tested the weight and balance of the blade like I knew what I was doing. I didn¡¯t, exactly, but it moved easily enough.


    ¡°Magic,¡± Ken said after considering his answer carefully, ¡°will be your primary defense and offense if you¡¯re threatened. In spite of that, it¡¯s wise to maintain a good fitness level, and learning to use that will certainly qualify as exercise. Additionally, as I mentioned earlier, there are a number of beings in the supernatural community who consider swordplay an honorable art and dueling to be the best way to settle disputes.¡±


    I shifted uneasily.


    Ken smiled a little. ¡°Not necessarily to the death. These aren¡¯t wasteful beings. Most of them. At any rate, sooner or later some event will come up where going armed would be both wise and respectful, and they¡¯ll be able to tell if you know how to use the sword you¡¯re carrying.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I didn¡¯t see. Frankly, it sounded terrifying. But this was the reality of the world I¡¯d chosen for myself. I could have gone back to school and become a teacher. This was the path I¡¯d set myself on, and I was determined to walk it to the best of my ability. If that meant learning to fight with a sword, so be it.


    Maybe I could get Ariana to give me lessons. That was an interesting thought. I could probably learn things about the supernatural world from her and Emrys that even Ken wouldn¡¯t know.


    ¡°And finally,¡± Ken said, ¡°I¡¯m going to teach you how to enchant it for improved durability and sharpness. Eventually. Consider it part of your lessons¡­if you¡¯re very familiar with it and its use, enchanting it will be easier. I¡¯ll be teaching you a bit of staff fighting for the same reason.¡±


    I sensed bruises and sore muscles in my future. Oh dear.


    Sparkle landed on my shoulder and whispered, ¡°It¡¯s okay, Caley. I know you can do this.¡±


    I smiled once again at her unshakable faith in me.


    ¡°For today, however,¡± Ken said, ¡°I just wanted to find a sword that feels good to you. How did I do?¡±


    I swung the blade a couple of times, then took up an en-garde position and tried a couple of practice thrusts and cuts. ¡°It feels pretty good, actually,¡± I said. ¡°Not too big for me, and the weight isn¡¯t really more than I¡¯m used to.¡±


    Ken nodded. ¡°Excellent. We¡¯ll put it away in your bedroom, you can take a shower, and we can retire to your father¡¯s study.¡±


    I sighed. It was going to be a long afternoon.


    Ken turned his eyes on Sparkle. ¡°As for you, little miss¡­¡±


    Sparkle stiffened on my shoulder. ¡°Me?¡±


    ¡°Oh yes,¡± Ken said with a smirk. ¡°You are going to spend as much of this afternoon as possible human-sized. You need to work on your stamina.¡±


    Sparkle groaned and I felt her flop down full-length on my shoulder.


    I smiled in spite of myself. At least I wouldn¡¯t be suffering alone.

 Chapter 30

    I showered, got dressed, and - now accompanied by a slightly sulky but teenager-sized Sparkle - retired to my father¡¯s office for the afternoon¡¯s study. Rather than dive into the (frankly terrifying) pile of deeds and investment documents, I asked Ken more questions about the deals that had been made with Ariana Pendragon, Gabriel O¡¯Connell, and the as-yet-unnamed Australian woman. After some pushing on my part, he surrendered and admitted that the deals that had been made weren¡¯t simple handshakes but had signed documents of their own.


    I went looking. My father had evidently taken the time to carefully preserve, sort and file literal centuries of paperwork in relatively modern wooden filing cabinets, so it was just a matter of figuring out how they were sorted.


    Alphabetically, it turned out, by what type of document they were.


    I found the agreement with Ariana first, and what a work of art it was. Hand-written in gloriously detailed and flourished handwriting on actual parchment, illuminated scrollwork along the edges¡­it was genuinely beautiful. According to the document, it had been drafted in early 1645, and agreed that in exchange for her defense - when needed - of the the Reid family (I was fascinated to learn that my family name went back that far) and home, Ariana Pendragon and any immediate companions were allowed access to the House''s doors for quick transportation. The document referred to the House as "Oakwood Hall," which was the second or third time I''d heard that specific name used. I quite liked it¡­it felt right, somehow.


    The really important thing was that Ariana Pendragon would come to help if I called for aid, and if she could. That was good to know. I hoped I''d have a chance to get her to know her a bit before that, though.


    Imagine that for a moment. Having an opportunity get to know King Arthur¡¯s daughter. If I hadn¡¯t already been over my weirdness saturation point, that definitely would¡¯ve tipped the scale.


    I found the agreement with Gabriel O¡¯Connell next. It was much more modern, having been typed up and loaded with surprisingly gentle legalese in 1983. It specifically named him and two others - Mikaela Ornmolik (which sounded like a made-up name to me) and Vlad Tepes (¡­that couldn¡¯t be the Vlad Tepes, could it?) - in a deal that was pretty much identical to the one made with Ariana.


    I found it interesting that just those three people were named, and not the entire organization, which sent me off on a tangent going through drawers and cabinets until I found a very nice and completely unused hard-sided pocket notebook. Once I had that, I spent several minutes transcribing my mental To Do list into the notebook, ending with finding out - if I could - why the entire United Nations Supernatural Defense Agency wasn¡¯t listed for access.


    It just bothered me a little, and I wasn¡¯t sure why. It was probably just a matter of not wanting the entire organization tromping through the House in an emergency. But still¡­


    Mr. O¡¯Connell, it seemed, was another person of interest to learn about, as his date of birth was listed on the document as July 4, 1742. There seemed to be more immortals around than you could shake a stick at. Since Ariana had been cursed to immortality, I wondered it there was a safe way to achieve it with magic.


    I mean, honestly, how could I not wonder about something like that?


    It took me a bit longer to find the contract for one Kelly Walker, resident of Australia and - it seemed - a modern alchemist and healer of some note. She had made a deal with my father (using largely the same contract that had been used for O¡¯Connell) to gain access specifically to rare plants grown in Dara¡¯s garden in return for aid to the House (I really did like the name Oakwood Hall better than this emphasis on ¡®house¡¯ all the time) if needed. Her date of birth was in the 1950¡¯s, so I suspected she wasn¡¯t another immortal. At least, not yet.


    I made a note in my new notebook to get in touch with her and re-establish her access to Dara¡¯s garden, assuming I liked her and assuming she was still interested. Then, taking into account the fact that Ken''s memory of her had been locked away, I added a note to go and ask Dara about her before making contact¡­if Dara trusted her, I saw no reason not to.


    While I was doing my research, Ken had been drilling Sparkle in ways to help her maintain her teenager size for longer than an hour or two. She wasn¡¯t a particularly attentive student, demonstrating a naturally short attention span by becoming distracted first by what I was doing, then by the inner workings of the beautiful antique grandfather clock that was wedged in between two bookshelves on one side of the room, then by watching her own wiggling toes. I had to admit it was rather amusing to see Ken getting a little frustrated by this particular student.


    Finally, I interrupted just before Ken might¡¯ve actually spoken harshly. ¡°Now, Ken, let her be. She clearly knows how, and you say that time spent in that form will help her build up the stamina to stay in that form for longer periods. She¡¯ll improve at her own pace, and nobody else¡¯s.¡±


    Sparkle gave me a grateful look as Ken raked his fingers through his hair and took a completely unnecessary deep breath to calm himself. ¡°You¡¯re right, Caley¡­of course. I¡¯m being foolish.¡± He smiled wryly. ¡°It was almost like teaching Mistress Chessie again.¡±


    That made Sparkle giggle and beam at him. ¡°Thank you!¡±


    Ken gave me a long-suffering look that clearly said ¡®that¡¯s not what I meant.¡¯ I smiled back serenely and returned to my research.


    By mid-afternoon, I was confident that I understood what each contract required of me as the Guardian of Oakwood Hall (I really, really loved the sound of that and resolved to use it from then on), and moved on to the first stack of property deeds that Ken wanted me to review. But good lord, my family owned land all over the old British Empire.


    There were properties in England, of course, as well as Wales, Scotland, and Ireland. But there were also houses in the Northeast United States, Jamaica, Malta, Egypt, South Africa, India, New Zealand, and even some undeveloped land in Fiji. I wondered if the Brownies - or perhaps relatives of theirs - took care of those properties, or if they were just sitting there gathering dust, and placed a call to Summers & Winters.


    ¡°You have reached the offices of Summers and Winters,¡± the now-familiar voice on the phone said, ¡°this is Margrave speaking. How may I be of assistance?¡±


    I smiled. ¡°Hello, Margrave, it¡¯s Caley. I¡¯m going through the family deeds, and had a couple of questions about the properties I¡¯ve found here.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s wonderful to hear from you, Miss Reid. What questions do you have?¡±


    I ran down the list of deeds I¡¯d found with houses attached to them. ¡°Are they still standing, and are they being cared for?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid the house in South Africa was lost, under¡­unfortunate circumstances,¡± Margrave said. ¡°If you would like, I will see to the disposition of the property. I believe it is worth a substantial sum.¡±


    I thought about it for a moment, then nodded. ¡°Yes, please. See to it that three quarters of whatever you get for the sale of the property goes to a good South African charity that will actually help people and not end up in greedy hands.¡±


    I could almost hear his smile when he replied. ¡°Very good, Miss. A wise decision. You certainly do not need the money, but keeping a portion of it will cover our services and look to outsiders like you¡¯re being both charitable and frugal. I will present you with a list of suitable charities when it is time to decide.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said. ¡°What about the rest?¡±


    ¡°The rest are kept in excellent condition in much the same way that the House - ¡°


    ¡°Oakwood Hall,¡± I interjected.


    He paused a moment, and I heard approval in his voice this time. ¡° - that the Hall is maintained. And may I say that I applaud your resumption of the Hall¡¯s traditional name, Miss.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said again. ¡°Are the various houses protected and open for¡­vacations, I suppose?¡±


    ¡°Very much so, Miss,¡± Margrave said. ¡°Though the last person to inspect them was your maternal grandfather before his untimely demise. While Summers and Winters could send a specialist to do so for you, I would advise waiting before visiting them until you have sufficient skill to inspect the wards personally.¡±


    ¡°That makes sense,¡± I said. ¡°Hopefully that won¡¯t be too much longer.¡±


    ¡°Indeed. Is there anything else I can do for you today, Miss?¡±


    ¡°Yes, what about the property in Fiji?¡±


    ¡°Your grandfather said it was a lovely spot, Miss, big enough for a modest vacation home. Though he never had a chance to have it built.¡±


    I thought about it for a moment, then decided it would be silly to sell the land sight unseen. ¡°All right. I¡¯ll have to find the time to go look at it at some point.¡±


    ¡°A wise decision, Miss.¡±


    ¡°I think that will be all for now, Margrave. Thank you very much.¡±


    ¡°You are most welcome, Miss Reid. Do call on us any time, day or night. We are here to serve.¡±


    I hung up the phone and sat back in my chair¡­then realized that I had just thought of it as my chair, and not my father¡¯s chair. Another sign that I was really starting to think of Oakwood Hall as mine.


    Sparkle returned then, ushered in my Ken, carrying a tray of drinks and snacks and in the middle of complaining, ¡° - not a servant!¡±


    Ken smiled. ¡°No, you aren¡¯t, but this was good practice for you.¡±


    She huffed, set the tray down on the desk, and with a startling pop of in-rushing air was suddenly fairy-sized again and sitting on the tray. She flopped over rather dramatically, happening - purely by coincidence, I was sure - to land half on a chocolate chip cookie. She lay there, arms out-flung, eyes closed.


    ¡°Not buying it,¡± Ken said cheerfully.


    She shrugged, rolled over, and started eating the cookie.


    I laughed, reached over and picked up the glass of apple juice that she¡¯d brought for me and sipped it. ¡°Thank you, Sparkle. I just got off the phone with Margrave. Guess we should add wards to my training at some point.¡±


    Ken nodded and ¡®sat¡¯ in one of the chairs across the desk from me. ¡°Wards are on the list already, after we¡¯ve done ritual circles. A lot of the basic mechanics transfer over.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take your word for it,¡± I said with a lopsided smile.


    From that day on, my nights were spent studying theory in my dreams, settling into a rhythm where we took a break every third night to let my brain rest naturally, and my days were spent on practical magic lessons and learning to fight with the smallsword Ken had picked out for me. My spare time was divided between exploring the house, and going over my family¡¯s other deeds and financial records. I wasn¡¯t quite ready to tackle my father¡¯s journals yet, and so avoided them for the time being.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    I also gave up on the extended pile of property deeds after a while and simply filed them away again. Until I knew how to get to some of them - including one that claimed to be for a luxurious home in the kingdom of Helium on Barsoom, and another for a townhouse in central London¡­but in Albion, not England - knowing that they (supposedly) existed was sufficient.


    I still liked to do my morning yoga and Tai Chi practice in the clearing outside my bedroom windows, where I made a point to refill the bird bath and soda feeder every morning. Doing that seemed to have endeared me to the wild fairies, resulting in some truly glorious displays of color at night.


    Oakwood Hall also provided me with a magnificent room in which to keep up my exercise. In addition to mats for my yoga and Tai Chi, it had a fencing mat which Ken and I made extensive of, a ballet barre - which I began using for stretching - and a couple of weight machines for building upper and lower body strength. I didn¡¯t want to use them, but Ken insisted.


    ¡°It¡¯ll help build your physical stamina, which will improve your magical stamina,¡± he said one morning when I was lying exhausted on the leg machine. ¡°You¡¯ll see.¡±


    I did, too. He was right, though it took time¡­as such things will.


    As the weather grew colder, I began jogging inside Oakwood Hall instead of going to and from town. The third time I did that, the Hall presented me with a room that was distinctly designed as an indoor jogging track. It wasn¡¯t quite as much fun as jogging the halls, but I got the point and made good use of it.


    I also got into the habit of going into town every Thursday evening to have dinner at the Oak & Ivy Pub. I didn¡¯t go for the darts game as much as I did the warm, friendly company of the older locals, all of whom seemed determined to treat me like a long-lost daughter or granddaughter¡­and, of course, Judy O¡¯Day¡¯s home-cooked meals. I was regaled with story after story about my parents, especially about my mother when she was a little girl, how they¡¯d kept my father company after her death, about my grandparents, and about the quietly bizarre history of the town itself.


    It seemed that everyone who lived there for any length of time was in on the open secret that my family was magical, and that it was our job not merely to watch over the town, but to protect something contained within the Hall from ¡®the forces of darkness¡¯ - a phrase which was often spoken in hushed, superstitious whispers. I wondered what the International Consortium of Organized Arcana (from whom I had yet to hear, and whom I was not actively seeking because they sounded a little scary) would think about that if they found out.


    I never did develop a taste for beer or hard liquors, but Malcolm always had a pot of water on for tea, and I found that a small glass of mead or wine could be very relaxing after a stressful day of lessons. Even if I hadn¡¯t found drinks to drink, I still would¡¯ve gone for the food and company.


    In early November, with a few weeks of magical lessons under my belt - including basic circle magic and the use of runes - I began actively constructing my first staff focus.


    At Ken¡¯s recommendation, I started by practicing carving the runes on blank, unprepared lengths of wood first, and I was very glad that I did. The magical runic alphabet itself - a stylized offshoot of Elder Furthark, which I had seen before but had precisely no experience with - was often shockingly complex in its design, being made up of whorls and conjunctions of lines at odd angles. On top of that, the act of carving the runes into wood - which I had naively expected to be simple - was quite a lot harder than I¡¯d anticipated.


    But I persevered, and by the middle of December (seriously, good wood carving is hard) I had managed to reproduce the pattern of runes I¡¯d chosen to Ken¡¯s satisfaction. Then it was time to carefully¡­very, very carefully¡­carve them into the white waxwood staff that I¡¯d chosen from those that had been prepared for me ahead of time.


    Even with all of the appropriate tools at hand and tons of practice, it took me two whole weeks, working on it at least a couple of hours every day, to do so. Not just because the carving itself was hard work, but because I had to imbue each rune with energy while I was carving it, which made the process doubly tiring. And I was continuing my normal magic lessons at the same time.


    I was certainly building some magical stamina.


    I had chosen a pattern of runes which Ken told me was very basic but very useful, and commonly the first one used by many young wizards. The design - which wound in complex spirals from one end of the staff to the other - was meant to build a magical matrix through which energy could be more efficiently and effectively gathered and channeled. Basically, it was the Swiss Army Knife of magical tools¡­not very powerful, but very flexible and useful.


    Once they were carved into the staff, an extra layer of preservative sealant went on (how very mundane!), and I bound it top and bottom with rings of silver and platinum at Ken¡¯s recommendation. He said that doing so would help it contain and store more energy within the wood, as well as providing stronger contact points for the energy to flow in and out of the staff.


    In a fit of whimsy that I hadn¡¯t expected from myself - it had been a long time since I¡¯d been whimsical in any way, really - I capped the top of the staff with a stylized representation of a phoenix with its wings lifted upward to take off. It was made out of copper, and I¡¯d found it among my mother¡¯s knick-knacks in the master bedroom. I¡¯d fallen madly in love with the silly thing¡­it represented me, I felt, as I spread my wings for the first time and grew into my new life.


    Ken approved of it, saying that not only was the metaphor apt, but that it would improve my affinity for the staff if parts of it had deeper meaning for me.


    I finished assembling it on Christmas Eve and collapsed into bed that night, exhausted and expecting another day of lessons the following day. I woke up the next morning to find¡­Christmas.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t like this when I went to sleep,¡± Sparkle said, astonished.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t do it,¡± Ken insisted as he wheeled in my usual breakfast cart. ¡°The whole House is decorated.¡±


    Overnight, Oakwood Hall had decorated itself. There were sprigs of mistletoe scattered around the house, connected by trailing garlands of ivy woven with oak leaves, all of it as lush, and green, and alive as if they were still on the trees. Strings of tiny lights were intertwined with them, twinkling and dancing merrily like the fairies outside my windows at night.


    An enormous Christmas tree had been set up in the foyer, so tall that the star atop it brushed the bottom of the chandelier. It was covered top to bottom with the sort of ornaments that I had - as a little girl - expected every Christmas tree to be heavily laden with: gleaming red and green balls, twinkling lights, icicles that - upon close examination - turned out to be real, candy canes, and even strings of popcorn.


    ¡°I would say,¡± Ken said, sounding awed, ¡°that the Hall is showing its approval of your residence.¡±


    I smiled. ¡°Welcome home, eh?¡±


    Ken smiled back at me. ¡°Indeed. Welcome home.¡±


    By mutual agreement, we kept working on the days between Christmas and New Year¡¯s. I studied, I practiced, I reviewed piles of financial documents. I explored, spent hours curled up on my bedroom¡¯s window seat with with books, and even managed to convince the Hall to place an outside window in my room - over the desk - so that I could watch the snow falling in the yard.


    I went into town to attend the Oak & Ivy¡¯s New Year¡¯s Eve party, which was a lot of fun, and fell into bed¡­once again exhausted, but this time pleasantly so¡­early in the morning on New Year¡¯s Day feeling more alive and happier than I could ever remember having felt.


    The next morning, I went back to work.


    I might be a workaholic.


    With my staff completed, my practical lessons now focused as much on learning to draw in ambient energy from outside of me as on the actual casting of spells. The creation of additional foci was put off until I¡¯d learned to use my first one proficiently, but I quickly began to see why Mom had been experimenting with more compact - and, I guess, less traditional - focus designs.


    The staff was cool, but boy was it cumbersome.


    Granted, in a pinch I could beat the hell out of somebody with it - and Ken was beginning to teach me staff fighting - but still.


    Anyway, magic lessons and exercise took up my mornings, and with additional foci in the future I was free to begin reading my father¡¯s journals in the afternoons. The first one chronologically started a couple of weeks before he and Mother were married, and was largely full of his hopes for the future and some vague comments about frustrations in dealing with the International Consortium of Organized Arcana.


    Sadly, there were no specifics, so I remained largely in the dark about the organization, something that I complained to Ken about more than once.


    There were also mentions in Father¡¯s first journal about having left his master at last. He seemed glad to have done so, and expressed - again, in vague terms - more than a little dislike for the man, who went unnamed. That surprised me¡­my own master/student relationship with Ken was the only benchmark I had to go by, and it was a good (if occasionally frustrating) one. My father - reading between the lines - seemed to have actively hated his master.


    I wondered about that, but just kept reading. I ended up skipping some long passages, as they occasionally became embarrassingly personal. He talked at length about his dreams, how much he loved my mother and the House, and - after I was born - how much he adored his baby daughter.


    That, and some notes about shoring up the House¡¯s defenses and bits of research errata, plus the occasional to do list, made up most of the content of the first four volumes. Then, they changed.


    The fifth volume (he¡¯d left almost half of the fourth one empty) began with a notation about Mother¡¯s death in a detached, almost clinical way. Of course he didn¡¯t include how she died, so it appeared that would remain a mystery for a while longer.


    After that point, his final journal was considerably more clinical than his previous ones. It focused primarily on his research, and new spells and foci he was working on. He wrote at greater length - but still without details, I¡¯d have to check the shelves in the workshop to see if his actual notes were there - about the improvements he was making to the House¡¯s defenses, and how it seemed to approve of his efforts on its behalf.


    He briefly mentioned having sent me to the orphanage, and that it would be safer for me there than staying in the House. But again, he didn¡¯t go into any detail as to why, which was incredibly frustrating. A few times after that, he noted having receiving letters from the orphanage about me, and once he even wrote about how desperately he wished he could bring me home safely.


    I wondered how lonely and depressed he¡¯d been while writing that entry, considering how otherwise devoid of emotion his final journal was.


    Finally, in the last few pages of that final journal, he began to mention the man named Bellinus von Einhardt, who¡¯d been called out as a danger in his letter to me. Von Einhardt, it seemed, had begun turning up with increasing frequency whenever my father left the House, no matter where in the world he had gone. Father mentioned being convinced that von Einhardt had played a part in Mother¡¯s death, and firmly believed that the man represented a threat to me if he ever learned of my whereabouts.


    My father also wrote - towards the end - about his fears for himself, and about encounters he was having with strange creatures that he believed had been summoned specifically to assault the House. His last entries described some of their attempts to break down the House¡¯s defenses, but only once had one been able to pass the property¡¯s boundary line. He also mentioned going out to confront and destroy them before they could cause problems for Oakwood.


    Reading those entries was when I really began to understand why Ken was so insistent that I learn combat magic. Not merely to defend myself, but to be able to defend others and act appropriately should violence be called for. And it seemed that it inevitably would be, as he, Sparkle and Dara had all said.


    I am not ashamed to admit that it frightened me more than a bit. But my growing ties to Oakwood and the certainty that I would act in their defense if I knew how soothed those fears. If anything, those feelings strengthened my resolve.


    Once I finished my father¡¯s journals, I threw myself into my studies with a devotion that startled Ken. The entire day was now spent exercising, in practical spellcasting lessons, and working on my fencing and staff fighting. Ken also began to refocus my morning Tai Chi into actual martial arts practice (no offense to Tai Chi). He chose to teach me Jeet Kune Do, saying that its lack of formalized style would serve me better in real life than one of what he rather derisively called the ¡®tournament¡¯ martial arts.


    As January passed into February, I became aware not just that I was learning to defend myself¡­but that I was really going to be able to do so. The extra exercise had the benefit of improving my muscle tone in areas I¡¯d never really worked before, which also helped my stamina.


    Not just my physical stamina, either. Ken had been right¡­as my physical fitness level (already pretty good) improved, so too did my magical stamina. As the weeks passed, it became easier and easier for me to cast the spells Ken was teaching me.


    I learned to create shields in different shapes and sizes, and for different purposes: to block or deflect physical attacks, to absorb and redirect the energy of fire and electricity, or to insulate against cold. I became proficient at throwing tiny bolts of lightning, and learned to condense water out of the air - or even conjure it outright, which was harder but sometimes more practical - to make ice. I began to study the casting of invisible shapes of force, similar in a way to casting shields but with many other applications, from knocking people down, to prying open closed objects.


    But what I enjoyed most was starting to learn the art of Transfiguration - changing one thing into another. I found it endlessly fascinating being able to reshape one object - or even one substance - into another, perhaps because it was a genuinely constructive use of what I was learning. Ken promised that when I had reached a level of proficiency where he thought I was ready, he¡¯d even teach me to change my own shape¡­to change my physical appearance, or even become different types of animals.


    When he mentioned that possibility, I questioned him ruthlessly about where a person¡¯s mass went when they made themselves smaller, or where the extra mass came from when they made themselves larger. After a weak series of explanations involving theories about pocket dimensions, plane-shifting, and conservation of mass, I broke down laughing at the look of uncomfortable consternation on his face.


    ¡°In other words,¡± I said once I had my laughter under control, ¡°you don¡¯t actually know.¡±


    He shrugged and smiled ruefully. ¡°It¡¯s one of the great mysteries of magic. Mass has to come from somewhere and go to somewhere, but¡­¡±


    Honestly, I loved the mysteries. I had never realized how mundane and easily understood my life was before coming to Oakwood Hall. Every day had been the same, routine, obvious, and boring.


    Now I was living a life where there was literally always something new and fascinating waiting for me to learn every day.


    But my father¡¯s unhelpfully vague warnings of danger loomed in the back of my mind. Even as I thrilled to every new lesson and every new spell that I successfully learned, I knew that I was preparing to defend myself and Oakwood Hall. From what, I didn¡¯t yet know¡­but I had a bad feeling that I¡¯d find out eventually, whether I wanted to or not.


    So I worked on preparing myself. What else could I do?

 Chapter 31

    One morning towards the end of February, during my fencing lesson, I decided that it was finally time to learn more from Ken about what I¡¯d be expected to do as the Guardian.


    Ken had chosen to teach me a style that he said some Musketeers had used in France in the 1600¡¯s. It was made up of a lot of quick motions, taking advantage of my speed and dexterity, and tended towards what I thought were rather vicious slashing and stabbing moves. It certainly violated quite a few of the competition rules I¡¯d learned in college, but I had to admit it was much more practical.


    It was also exhausting.


    Puffing and wheezing, I leaned on my practice sword for a moment before waving my surrender at Ken and sitting down heavily on the padding. Sparkle - human-sized for practice - hurried over with a towel and a bottle of water for me. I took them gratefully, wiping down my face and neck, and then slowly sipping water.


    Ken took the practice blade from me and put it away, smiling. ¡°I know it might not feel like it, but you¡¯re improving very rapidly. You have a tremendous talent for learning.¡±


    ¡°And yet,¡± I wheezed, ¡°you¡¯re still beating the pants off of me.¡±


    ¡°Anything worth doing - ¡° Ken started to say.


    I cut him off, having heard it before. ¡°Takes time. I know, I know. But is this really worth it?¡±


    ¡°Are you enjoying it?¡± Ken asked curiously.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± I considered it for a moment, then nodded. ¡°I suppose I am, actually. I mean¡­from a purely physical standpoint, I feel better than I ever have. But that doesn¡¯t answer my question.¡±


    Ken sighed and settled to the padding facing me, crossing his legs as he sat. I had asked him a few weeks earlier why he didn¡¯t just sink through the floor when he said down, to which he¡¯d replied, ¡°Because it¡¯s the floor.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t bothered asking again.


    Now he considered me seriously before speaking. ¡°I do think it¡¯s necessary. Not just because improving your physical stamina will improve your magical stamina as well - ¡°


    I nodded without interrupting him.


    ¡° - but also because, as I mentioned once before, a very large percentage of the supernatural population hasn¡¯t come into the 21st Century as far as self-defense goes. Or even into the 20th Century, really. Medieval and Renaissance weaponry are still very popular, and trial by sword is a popular way of settling disputes.¡±


    I groaned a little. ¡°So I might really have to defend myself with a sword at some point? It¡¯s not just ceremonial?¡±


    ¡°It is a distinct possibility, Caley,¡± Ken said gently. ¡°Especially if you have dealings with the Sidhe. The Guardian has, in the past, frequently been called on to be a negotiator between conflicting parties, to provide aid and succor to those in need, and yes, even to settle disputes with the occasional duel.¡±


    ¡°Mistress Chessie fought one when she was just nineteen,¡± Sparkle said.


    ¡°She did?¡± I asked.


    Ken nodded. ¡°Against a rather obnoxious young Sidhe lord. Your mother favored the longsword.¡± He pursed his lips. ¡°She had some anger issues to work out, and the longsword¡¯s rougher, harder style suited her at the time. As I recall, she beat him rather spectacularly, then settled the issue with some impressive diplomacy.¡± He paused for a moment, then smiled faintly. "If it''s any consolation, such duels are mostly non-lethal. In Sidhe circles, at least, it''s considered very gauche to kill during a duel."


    "Actually, that does make me feel a bit better." I sighed a little and sipped more water, then probed pointedly. ¡°It sounds like the Guardian has to wear a lot of different hats.¡±


    Ken smiled a little. ¡°True enough. You will have to be diplomat and warrior, forceful and gentle, even outright rude at times if the situation calls for it. And you¡¯re probably going to have to work harder at being respected than any of your ancestors have in some time.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    Ken considered his words for a moment. ¡°Because of what happened to your parents and grandparents, you are very much isolated here¡­you don¡¯t have the support structure that they had.¡±


    ¡°What kind of support structure?¡± I asked, a hint of fear working its way into the pit of my stomach.


    ¡°Working treaties with the Sidhe,¡± Ken said slowly, ¡°with the most influential werewolf clans, and the strongest vampires around the world. Relationships with the magical community for support - the International Consortium of Organized Arcana, for example - and with the the spirit world for information. These are all connections that you¡¯re going to have to rebuild from the ground up, being a completely unknown quantity.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°That sounds¡­difficult.¡±


    ¡°It will be time consuming, and probably frustrating,¡± Ken said with a reassuring smile, ¡°but I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll be too difficult in the long run.¡± He reached out and touched my shoulder with an insubstantial hand. ¡°You¡¯re a charming young woman, very intelligent and very personable. You won¡¯t have any problem with this.¡±


    ¡°Promise?¡± I asked, trying to dispel the cold feeling that had settled in the pit of my stomach.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± his smile faltered just a little. ¡°You probably won¡¯t have any problems, anyway.¡±


    ¡°That isn¡¯t very reassuring,¡± I said. But in a weird way it was. If I knew up front that it would be a challenge, I could steel myself for it and do my best to prepare for it. I could handle that. ¡°And, to be honest, I never in my wildest dreams saw myself as any kind of a diplomat.¡±


    ¡°It sort of goes with the territory,¡± Ken said apologetically. ¡°Believe me, whether you want to do it or not, they¡¯re going to come to you eventually.¡±


    I blew out a breath and sipped some more water. ¡°All right. I guess we¡¯d better include some lessons in basic diplomacy in my schedule.¡±


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Ken chuckled. ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do. But in this environment, it¡¯s not something you can be taught, as much as something you¡¯re going to have to learn by doing it over time. It¡¯s a reputation you have to build¡­and you¡¯re going to have to decide for yourself where to draw certain lines.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    Sparkle shrank back down and settled atop my head, which made me smile a little. Just having her there relieved a tiny amount of the stress I was feeling.


    ¡°Well,¡± Ken sighed, ¡°when beings come to you for help, you¡¯re going to have to decide what you can and will help them with. If you step into one clan feud, for example, you can expect other clans to come to you for help with the same sort of thing. I¡¯m not saying don¡¯t do that. You need to follow your conscience. But you also need to be aware that doing so will inevitably draw you into more of the same.¡±


    I frowned a little. ¡°So¡­if I mediate a conflict in a group¡¯s favor, other groups with similar problems will come to me for help?¡±


    ¡°Quite certainly,¡± Ken nodded. ¡°And I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if opposing groups tried to trick you into helping them.¡±


    I rubbed my face with both hands.


    ¡°That¡¯s the unfortunate reality of supernatural politics,¡± Ken said sympathetically. ¡°Of any politics, really. But the supernatural world tends to be¡­how can I put this¡­¡±


    ¡°Bluntly,¡± I said quietly, needing to hear the worst.


    He sighed a little. ¡°There are beings and nations who will want to take advantage of you and use you for their own ends, regardless of the outcome for you, good or bad. It¡¯s something you¡¯ll have to watch out for. Fortunately, Sparkle and I can advise you as to who can and can¡¯t be trusted. At least, usually.¡±


    ¡°Only usually?¡± I asked.


    ¡°There are going to be times where it¡¯s not that simple.¡± Ken drummed his fingers on the floor¡­I could actually faintly hear the sound of it.


    Finally, he said, ¡°Let me use the Sidhe as an example. When they approach you, you will most likely be dealing with either the Seelie or Unseelie Courts, frequently referred to as the Summer and Winter Courts respectively. Many people make the mistake of thinking that means that the Seelie Court is the friendlier and safer of the Sidhe nations. But the Seelie Court is also the court of emotion, passion and impulse. You¡¯ve heard the term ¡®Hot tempered¡¯?¡±


    I nodded.


    ¡°It defines them well. The Unseelie Court, in contrast, is the court of logic, control and forethought.¡± Ken paused for a moment, then smiled lopsidedly. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t define either of them as ¡®good¡¯ or ¡®evil.¡¯ Each has its own stable of dangerous monsters hidden beneath the surface; each has members who take impulsive action, and members who play long and incredibly complex games. Neither will ever tell you anything that isn¡¯t perfectly true, as the Sidhe are physically incapable of lying¡­but that doesn¡¯t mean that either side can be trusted to tell the whole truth.¡±


    ¡°Then how do I know who to trust?¡± I asked, the increasingly familiar sensation of being overwhelmed growing in the pit of my stomach.


    Ken sighed. ¡°You¡¯re going to have to judge that carefully, for yourself, and weigh the benefits and pitfalls of helping them. There will be times when you¡¯ll have to be pragmatic about it, and not let it be an emotional decision¡­you might have to judge in favor of someone - or a group - that you don¡¯t like because they¡¯re right, even if you don¡¯t like it. It won¡¯t make you more popular, but it will make you more trustworthy. Honesty counts for a lot in the supernatural world. That¡¯s especially true with the Sidhe.¡±


    I rubbed my face. ¡°What about fairies, like Sparkle?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Ken said, ¡°Sparkle belongs to you, and thus isn¡¯t beholden to either Court.¡±


    Thank goodness for that.


    ¡°Most of the lesser Fae - ¡± Ken began again.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Sparkle said indignantly from atop my head.


    ¡°I¡¯m very sorry, Sparkle,¡± Ken said with a smile. ¡°Most of the non-aligned Wildfae will naturally align with one Court or the other during times of conflict, or will remain unaligned and be treated as mercenaries.¡±


    Sparkle huffed, then muttered, ¡°I suppose that¡¯s accurate enough.¡±


    Glancing upwards, I asked, ¡°And which did you align with, Sparkle?¡±


    ¡°Before Mistress Chessie claimed me, I occasionally served the Unseelie Court.¡± She lowered her voice and whispered, ¡°You always know where you stand with them.¡±


    I supposed that made sense. But it didn¡¯t make me feel any better. Ken looked like he was about to start lecturing again, so I held up a hand to head him off at the pass. My heart seemed to be thudding loudly in my ears as I tried to digest all of this information. ¡°I¡­¡± I took a deep breath and let it out, forcing myself to calm down. ¡°I think I need a shower.¡±


    Sparkle bounced off my head and was suddenly the size of a teenager again, taking my hands and pulling me to my feet. As she did, she leaned in and whispered, ¡°Mistress Chessie had a hard time with this at first too. You¡¯re going to do just fine. I believe in you.¡±


    Warmed by her words and absolute faith in me, I headed for the shower.


    As I washed my hair, what Ken had told me lingered in my mind. While I had a good grasp of human nature - you don¡¯t study history without learning something about the way we behaved as a species - I was totally out of my depth with anything beyond that. I wasn¡¯t trained to be a diplomat¡­heck, I¡¯d never even had enough friends while growing up to act as a peace-maker for them. I¡¯d never thought of myself as someone who¡¯d ever have to physically fight anyone else for anything¡­with words, yes, but literally?


    And yet, it seemed like I was going to end up doing both eventually, no matter what. I loved Oakwood Hall more than anything I ever had in my life, but how could I possibly deal with everything that came with it?


    ¡°Caley,¡± Sparkle said urgently from where she was now balanced - once more tiny - atop the shower head. ¡°Caley, take a deep breath!¡±


    Looking up at her, I realized both that she looked worried, and that I was on the verge of a panic attack. I was standing there beneath the spray of hot water, alternately breathing too fast and not breathing at all, my hands clenching and unclenching. My heart seemed to be thundering in my ears.


    I pressed one hand against the wall and leaned into it, bracing myself and trying to get my breathing under control.


    It didn¡¯t work. I couldn¡¯t center my mind, couldn¡¯t stop my heart from hammering in my chest.


    Sparkle¡¯s warm purple glow washed over me, and she was suddenly hovering in front of my face, soaked to the skin by the spray from the shower head. ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± she said reassuringly. ¡°I¡¯m here. Ken is here. It¡¯ll be hard at first, but you¡¯ll get through this.¡±


    As soon as her light touched me, enough of my panic receded that I was able to gather up the rest and start tamping it down myself. I took one deep breath, then another, then a third, and a fourth. By the fifth, the light-headed feeling began to fade and my heart rate began to slow.


    I tipped my head forward until my forehead bumped very gently into Sparkle¡¯s little head, which made her giggle and hug my forehead.


    ¡°Thank you, Sparkle,¡± I said quietly, raising my head again and giving her a weak smile.


    She puffed up her chest a little and her glow brightened, beaming what I¡¯d come to think of as her ¡®I¡¯m helping!¡¯ expression at me. ¡°You¡¯re welcome, Caley!¡±


    I shut off the water, and by the time I stepped out of the shower, Sparkle - once again human-sized and miraculously dry - was waiting with a towel, evidently intent on pampering me a little. And she did, drying me off from head to toe and wrapping my hair in a second towel. She helped me into my bathrobe - by which time I was back to something that resembled normal, but I didn¡¯t have the heart to tell her to stop - and walked me out to sit so that Ken could dry and braid my hair while I ate a light breakfast.


    By the time he¡¯d finished, Sparkle had even laid out clothes on the bed for me¡­a knee-length black skirt with a dark purple stripe that ran horizontally around it about an inch up from the hemline, a matching purple silk blouse, a pair of heavy winter tights patterned with wide, horizontal purple and black stripes that looked like they had escaped from from my mother¡¯s drawers, and a pair of black ankle boots.


    It wasn¡¯t quite my usual style, but¡­it looked cute, Sparkle had chosen it, and after the incident in the shower I felt like I¡¯d do just about anything for her. So why not?


    ¡°So,¡± Ken said, ¡°what¡¯s on the agenda for the rest of the day?¡±


    ¡°I think,¡± I said, ¡°I¡¯m going out for a while.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± He asked, sounding a bit wary. It wasn¡¯t a Thursday, after all, and our plan had been to start working on more powerful lightning spells.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said firmly. ¡°I¡¯d like to go to London for the day.¡±

 Chapter 32

    ¡°Are you really sure this is wise, Caley?¡± Ken asked as he trailed along behind me. ¡°From what I¡¯ve read, London is a potentially dangerous city for any girl on her own. And I don¡¯t think you know enough self-defense yet to - ¡±


    ¡°Ken,¡± I broke in, trying not to sound too exasperated and failing miserably, ¡°I need to get away for a little while. It¡¯s just too much. I need a break.¡±


    ¡°I understand that,¡± he said patiently, slipping around in front of me¡­probably to try and stop me. ¡°How about a nice private beach? There¡¯s a door that opens onto one somewhere in the South Pacific¡­¡±


    I interrupted him again, this time by gritting my teeth and walking straight through him. I ignored the strange cold, tingly sensation that contact with him always brought with him, and heard him sigh behind me as I slipped into the jacket I¡¯d grabbed.


    ¡°Look,¡± I said, ¡°I appreciate the thought, but I really want to be around other people.¡± I winced a little. I hadn¡¯t meant to emphasize the word people that way. Or maybe I had. I was feeling a bit trapped and kind of edgy.


    ¡°I see,¡± Ken said, and I could hear the hurt in his voice.


    I hadn¡¯t meant to insult him like that¡­or had I? Was I lashing out? I really wasn¡¯t feeling my usual self.


    ¡°You could always go into town,¡± he suggested hopefully.


    I stopped at one of the doors and swung around to face him. ¡°I need to get away. Just for a few hours. I¡¯ll go to Harrods, do a bit of shopping, have some lunch, and come straight back. Okay?¡± I reached up and brushed my fingers lightly over Sparkle where she was already clinging to the Master Key where it dangled from my choker. ¡°Anyway, I have Sparkle with me. I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Ken pursed his lips and stared at me. Finally, he sighed. ¡°Promise me you won¡¯t be gone more than three or four hours.¡±


    ¡°I promise,¡± I said quickly, eager to set his mind at ease and go. Then I hesitated for a moment. ¡°Hey¡­I¡¯m sorry about the ¡®people¡¯ comment. That was out of line.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all right, Caley,¡± he said softly, ¡°I understand.¡± He smiled gently, and I could tell that he really did understand. ¡°You¡¯ve been working very hard day and night for four months. I¡¯ve been able to see the tension growing in you, and I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve quite come to terms with being the Guardian yet. You need a break, which I also understand. But it¡¯s my responsibility,¡± he emphasized the word gently, ¡°to see to your safety and well-being. I can¡¯t do that when you¡¯re not in the House.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t take a vacation in Oakwood Hall, Ken,¡± I said, hoping I didn¡¯t sound as frustrated as I felt. From the look on his face, I suspected I¡¯d failed.


    ¡°Actually, you can,¡± he said with forced good cheer. ¡°There¡¯s a few rooms I could show you that - ¡±


    I cut him off for a third time. ¡°No,¡± I said firmly. ¡°I need to get out for a little while. To be around people who don¡¯t look at me like I¡¯m a minor celebrity, or treat me like I¡¯m the second coming of my mother¡­¡± I trailed off, reconsidering. Those might be very interesting rooms to see, after all. Then I mentally shook my head. ¡°You can show me those rooms another time. They¡¯re probably really cool. But right now, I¡¯m going out, and I¡¯ll be back in a few hours. Okay?¡±


    Ken was silent for a long moment, and I could tell that he really wanted to say no. But in the end, he sighed and nodded. ¡°Okay. Sparkle, be extra vigilant, please.¡±


    ¡°I will be!¡± Her voice piped up from below my chin, though I never felt her move.


    Ken met my eyes. ¡°Have a good time, Caley. And please be careful.¡±


    Something of what he¡¯d said about my safety was finally seeping through the powerful urge to be away from my responsibilities for a little while, and I realized that he might be right. This would be my first time really out in the world since I¡¯d started my lessons (Oakwood town didn¡¯t count), and it was likely that word was beginning to get around that Oakwood Hall was once again occupied. There might be¡­things¡­looking for me. Not to mention people.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be careful,¡± I said gravely. ¡°I promise.¡±


    A look of relief briefly flitted across his face. ¡°Thank you. I¡¯ll see you in a few hours, then.¡± He held out a green knitted woolen winter cap for me. The weather had mentioned that it was snowing in London.


    I gave him a little smile as I took it and tugged it on, tucking my braid up inside it. Then I opened the door and went through without another word.


    To my surprise, it was indeed snowing in London. Statistically speaking, snow at the end of February isn¡¯t exactly rare, but Central London usually only sees about ten days of snow a year. And it was still cold enough for it to actually be accumulating. In another week or two, it¡¯d melt immediately on contact with the ground.


    As it was, the streets and sidewalks were slushy, and the snow was really only clinging to things that were more than a foot off the ground. But still, it was pretty and not about to deter me from my outing.


    It didn¡¯t take me long to orient myself. The door had brought me out onto Picadilly, directly across the street from Fortnum & Mason¡¯s. Proximity - and my mouth watering - demanded a detour, so I dashed across the street, and emerged twenty minutes later with my first bag of the day.


    I know I didn¡¯t need to buy them. The Hall would - and already had - provided with with tea that I was perfectly certain was theirs. But I wanted to feel like I normal girl, and nothing was more normal (or so I¡¯d been told again and again while growing up) for a girl than going shopping.


    Besides, I hadn¡¯t had the opportunity to spend any of the money I¡¯d inherited, and the idea of splurging a bit excited me more than I had expected. I mean¡­I grew up with what I needed and little more. I was frugal by both necessity and long habit.


    But the necessity was gone¡­so why not? I squashed a flush of entirely neurotic guilt, and headed for Harrods.


    It wasn¡¯t far from where I already was, and wasn¡¯t too cold for my tastes, so I decided to walk. The fresh air - or what passed for fresh air in Central London - would do me good. Picadilly led to Hyde Park Corner, and thence onto Knightsbridge. I paused briefly and thought about having a look at Buckingham Palace¡­but I really did want to get back before Ken¡¯s deadline, so I decided not to and continued on to Brompton Road.


    By the time I reached Harrods, I had been vividly reminded of why I didn¡¯t really like cities. The noise, the crush of people, and especially the overwhelming smell of car exhaust all made me long to be back out in the woods around Oakwood. Stepping into Harrods was a blessed relief, even if it wasn¡¯t much quieter. Or less crowded.


    Harrods - if you¡¯ve never been there - is huge. It doesn¡¯t matter that I know there are larger shopping centers in the world¡­Harrods overwhelmed me for a moment. Then I grinned to myself, freed my braid from its confinement, tucked my hat into a pocket of my coat, and got down to some serious shopping.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    For the first time in my life, I spent money without worrying about a budget or limiting my spending. It was both exhilarating and a little scary.


    I bought new clothes. So much clothing, in fact, that I had to give them an address to ship some of it to. I ended up with practically an entire new wardrobe, including business-wear and fancy dress, even though I had no idea when or where I¡¯d wear most of it. At least I¡¯d be prepared for whatever came up, and I was certain the Hall would have all kinds of ideas for expanding on I¡¯d bought.


    I visited their bath and body department, and loaded up on all of the things I¡¯d always felt were too frivolous and girly for me. I resolved to try each product at least once, especially the sampler of bath salts I picked up, some of which smelled heavenly.


    I spent some time in their electronics department, and bought myself a new laptop computer. Sure, I was having some trouble getting Oakwood Hall wired for Internet access, but it would work itself out sooner or later, and I felt I should have a computer powerful enough to take advantage of it. I briefly eyed an insanely expensive (and really quite huge) home entertainment center¡­but quickly passed on the idea. I couldn¡¯t exactly invite an expert in to set it up, and I¡¯d never watched a lot of television to begin with.


    Give me a good book any day.


    By the time my stomach informed me that it needed to be fed, I¡¯d spent more in two hours than I usually spent in an entire year. As I made my way up to the fourth floor, I felt vaguely and oddly guilty about the whole thing, though I wasn¡¯t sure why.


    The Diner on the fourth floor of Harrods is a popular place to eat in London. I¡¯ve never been one for complicated or fancy food, and a recreation of an American diner appealed to my tastes, so I decided to try it¡­burger and fries, and a chocolate milkshake please.


    Heaven.


    As I was finishing my lunch, confident that - between my morning exercise, the walk to Harrods, and the surprisingly exhausting act of shopping with something close to complete abandon - I could burn off the rest of the calories before the end of the day, I realized that someone was standing beside my table.


    Looking up, I saw a middle-aged man in a three piece suit, the coat and trousers black, the vest crimson embroidered with gold, over a white shirt. He was wearing a heavy black overcoat with a collar of silver fur, and held a black felt homburg in one hand. The other hand held a black lacquered cane, topped with a silver dragon¡¯s head. His hair was black, shot through with streaks of silver, cut short and slicked back, and he had a matching, neatly trimmed goatee.


    His eyes were a smoky sort of gray color, and the smile on his lips didn¡¯t touch them. They were cold, and didn¡¯t match the rest of his warm expression at all.


    ¡°My dear child,¡± he said in an accent that almost sounded German, but not quite, ¡°you simply must be the daughter of Lady Franchesca Reid. You are the very image of her. You must be Caitlyn.¡±


    The short hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I immediately became wary. But, as Sister Sarah had taught me, I remained polite and smiled up at him. After all, I did look shockingly like my mother, and she must¡¯ve had some acquaintances outside of Oakwood. ¡°You have me at a disadvantage, sir.¡±


    ¡°Of course, I¡¯m terribly sorry.¡± He shifted his cane around, tucking it under his other arm. I thought I saw the tiny ruby eyes of the dragon¡¯s head flash as it moved, then he was somehow holding my right hand and bending over it in a very courtly bow, which made me blush in surprise and embarrassment. I felt a strange, cobweb-like sensation brush over the skin of my hand, arm and face before he released my hand and straightened. ¡°I am Bellinus von Einhardt. I was a colleague of your father¡¯s.¡±


    I was immediately reminded of the entries in my father¡¯s journals about how this man had begun showing up wherever he went whenever he left the house. I tensed and felt my senses sharpen and focus, though outwardly I strove to remain calm. This was, I supposed, the sort of thing Ken had been worried about..but surely if this man was some sort of threat to me, he wouldn¡¯t do anything in the middle of Harrods.


    Right?


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said slowly, ¡°I recall seeing your name mentioned in his journals.¡±


    Von Einhardt seemed momentarily confused by something, then his smile returned full force, though it still didn¡¯t touch his eyes. ¡°Oh? We did work together on several projects. I suppose I shouldn¡¯t be surprised that he made mention of me.¡±


    ¡°This is quite a coincidence,¡± I said, forcing the smile to stay on my face. ¡°Would you care to join me? I was just finishing, but I¡¯m in no real hurry.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± He tipped his head ever so slightly, his eyes never leaving my face. I noticed a slight furrow appear between his eyebrows. ¡°Yes, I would like that, thank you.¡±


    Whoops. Well, talking to him for a minute couldn¡¯t hurt, and it¡¯d give me a chance to see if what little my father wrote about him might be true.


    Von Einhardt slid into the booth across from me without taking off his coat, setting his hat on the table and hooking his cane on its edge. The dragon¡¯s head ended up facing me, its eyes seeming to glitter as they stared at me. It was a bit unsettling, and for a moment I thought I felt Sparkle squirm against my breastbone, where she and the Master Key were hidden beneath my jacket and sweater.


    Maybe she was as nervous about this as I was.


    ¡°I do not believe in coincidence,¡± von Einhardt said with another empty smile. ¡°I have wanted to meet you since I heard you had moved into the house in Oakwood.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Granted, I hadn¡¯t exactly been trying to hide my presence there, but I also hadn¡¯t really been out in public much, which suggested that this man had been keeping an eye on the town. That was unnerving. But he didn¡¯t look particularly threatening¡­he looked like someone¡¯s stern and rather old-fashioned grandfather. A bit distant maybe, but not menacing.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said, that empty smile not changing. He shifted in his seat slightly, making his cane rattle a little, and I could¡¯ve sworn that I saw the dragon¡¯s ruby eyes flash again. A moment later, I felt that strange cobweb-like sensation again, this time brushing over just my face.


    Sparkle distinctly squirmed against my breastbone¡­there was no mistaking it this time, and I thought I felt a flash of heat and a sense of annoyance and worry that wasn¡¯t my own, rather like when Oakwood Hall communicated with me.


    ¡°As I said,¡± von Einhardt continued, ¡°your father and I worked on several projects together. I should very much like to visit you at the house and collect his notes on them. If you would be so kind, of course. They were left unfinished and I without a copy, when he died in such an untimely fashion.¡±


    ¡°Do you know how he died?¡± I blurted out without thinking about it. Embarrassment washed over me. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to be so blunt. It¡¯s just that nobody¡¯s actually been able to tell me what happened to him.¡±


    ¡°Dear child,¡± he said smoothly, his voice dripping with sympathy and regret, ¡°I¡¯m afraid I do not know either. I was out of the country at the time on other matters.¡±


    He was lying.


    I don¡¯t know how I knew, but I was certain of it.


    Maybe it was something in the slightly cloying tone of his voice, or the way his emotions never touched his flat, almost reptilian gray eyes. Sparkle squirmed ever so slightly where she lay against my skin, clinging to the Master Key, and I felt a flash of anxiety that - while seeming perfectly natural - was not mine.


    I needed to go, that feeling said. Now.


    Automatically, I started gathering my things, and smiled at von Einhardt. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I have to get going,¡± I said politely. ¡°No doubt you have my father¡¯s old phone number¡­it hasn¡¯t changed. Do call me, and we¡¯ll arrange a time for you to come by. You can show me what you need then.¡±


    As I started to rise, his right hand flashed across the table and caught my left wrist. His hand was unnaturally cool and dry, and his touch made my skin crawl.


    ¡°I must insist,¡± he said with strained politeness, ¡°that we go now. There are items of a very time-sensitive nature that must proceed soon.¡±


    I looked down at his hand, then met his eyes. ¡°Please let go of me,¡± I said quietly.


    I¡¯d never heard that particular tone come from my own mouth before, but I recognized the steel in it instantly. I had delivered a quiet, polite threat, and it startled me. But I definitely did not want him touching me.


    For just an instant, he looked as startled as I felt, then he released my wrist and held up both hands, smiling apologetically. ¡°I am terribly sorry, that was horribly impolite of me.¡± He took up his hat and cane, rising as I slid into my jacket and grabbed my bags. ¡°Perhaps you would allow me to see you home - ¡°


    ¡°I¡¯m not going home just yet,¡± I interrupted him firmly, no longer trying to be amenably polite. ¡°I have an appointment in the city this afternoon. Call me tomorrow, and we¡¯ll set something up.¡±


    He hesitated for just a moment, then bowed politely. ¡°I see. Very well, I will do precisely that. Good day to you.¡±


    Without another word, he turned and strode off, his cane clicking against the floor with every other step.


    I stood there for a long moment, one hand gripping the back of the booth beside me as I did a deep breathing exercise. My heartbeat was just starting to return to normal when a quiet voice beside me said, ¡°You all right, honey?¡±


    I jumped and half turned, very nearly ready to defend myself by violence. But it was only the waitress, looking concerned. I blew out a breath and laughed nervously. ¡°Yes, thank you.¡±


    She looked unconvinced, but nodded a little. ¡°All right¡­I was sure I was gonna have to call security for a minute there. You watch yourself on your way home, all right?¡±


    I nodded earnestly. ¡°Count on it. Thank you again.¡±


    I left her a very large tip.

 Chapter 33

    Back outside Harrods, I found the snow coming down more heavily, which was something of a surprise. It was actually starting to accumulate¡­but then, it¡¯d probably melt in a day or two anyway.


    I started my walk back to the door home, glancing around in the most casual way I could manage. I probably looked like I was being hunted.


    After a couple of blocks, I whispered, "Sparkle? Can you tell if we¡¯re being followed?"


    "I don¡¯t think we are, Mistress," she replied, her voice muffled by blouse, sweater and jacket, but still weirdly audible to me.


    Just as I reached Fortnum and Mason¡¯s and was getting ready to cross the street, Sparkle spoke in a hushed whisper. "He¡¯s behind you. Maybe twenty meters back."


    I very nearly panicked and bolted for the door. "What should I do?" I asked, louder than I¡¯d intended. Several pedestrians shot uninterested glances in my direction, and probably assumed I was talking on a wireless headset or something.


    Sparkle was silent for a moment, then said, "There¡¯s an alley up ahead. Step into it and back up against the wall. I¡¯ll do the rest."


    She sounded so certain of herself that I didn¡¯t even think to ask. I simply trusted her.


    I stepped sideways into the alley as I reached it, backed up against the brick wall, and waited.


    An instant later I felt the strangest sensation. It was as if a curtain had been drawn across me and was laying against me, faint but quite clear. I opened my mouth to ask Sparkle what was going on, but she hissed an almost silent, "Shhh!"


    I remained silent and all but held my breath.


    A minute later, von Einhardt appeared at the mouth of the alley. He peered in, glanced around quickly, then moved into the alley¡­and walked right past me. He spent a good two minutes peering behind trash cans and piles of old boxes without ever looking at me before making a frustrated noise. Muttering under his breath, he strode back out onto the sidewalk and turned right, disappearing from my sight.


    I waited a minute. Two minutes. Then five, then ten. I was starting to feel the cold when that weird sensation of having a curtain pressed against me vanished and Sparkle said, "He was looking for mortal magic, not Fairy glamours. Sucker!" She sounded very smug, and I didn¡¯t blame her at all.


    "You made me invisible?"


    "Sort of," she said, zipping out away from me to peek around the edges of the alley. Then she returned to me, disappearing beneath my jacket and sweater again. "All clear. We should get home quickly."


    "Agreed," I said, stepping back out into the street and hurrying for the door.


    I didn¡¯t stop moving until I was inside Oakwood Hall with my back pressed against the door, and the reassuring sounds of its lock re-engaging echoing in my ears. Ken appeared almost instantly, smiling warmly. "Welcome¡­back¡­"


    He trailed off, his smile vanishing. "Caley, you¡¯re as white as a ghost. What happened?"


    "Terrible joke intended?" I asked, my knees starting to feel a bit wobbly.


    "Completely. Are you all right?" he asked, concern etched in every line of his face.


    "I need a cup of tea," I said weakly.


    "Very British of you," he said. "Come to the kitchen. There¡¯s a fire laid there, and you look chilled to the bone. We¡¯ll get you warmed up, and you can tell me what happened."


    Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in a chair by the huge fireplace in the kitchen. I had shed jacket and sweater, and my boots had been replaced by a pair of fluffy pink bunny slippers that I had never seen before and most certainly would never have bought for myself, but which were very comfortable. Since Sparkle had brought them for me, I suspected they¡¯d come from my mother¡¯s closet. They clashed madly with the black and purple striped tights I was wearing, but at the moment I didn¡¯t much mind.


    I was warm, I was safe, and I had a lovely cup of tea in my hands.


    Sparkle was sitting across from me in another chair, in her teenage form, sipping from a mug that I swear was more sugar than tea and kicking her feet idly. I noticed that for the first time she wasn¡¯t barefoot, but was wearing a matching pair of purple and black striped tights that went very nicely with her usual dress. I felt a profound swell of affection for her, and decided then and there that I¡¯d let her modify my wardrobe a little, if she really wanted to.


    If my wearing colors and patterns that she liked made her happy, I¡¯d do it. What was the harm? Within reason, of course. I was not about to start dressing in diaphanous mini-dresses all the time.


    Ken was pacing back and forth beside us, his hands clasped behind him. We¡¯d just finished bringing him up to date, and he looked pensive. Finally, he stopped halfway between us, turned and looked at me. "This isn¡¯t precisely the sort of thing I was worried about, but¡­" He shook his head, clearly refraining from just saying ¡®I told you so.¡¯


    Instead, he said, "I¡¯m glad you were in a public place. At least there was nothing too obvious he could do without arousing even more suspicion than he already did."


    "What was that weird cobweb sensation I felt?" I asked.


    "That was probably a charm spell of some sort," Ken said, frowning. "He was likely trying to make you more agreeable, or maybe even to hypnotize you."


    "That¡¯s exactly what he was trying to do," Sparkle said absently, as if she was having trouble concentrating on the conversation. Then she sipped her tea and curled her legs under herself, as if she¡¯d said nothing of any particular import.


    Ken blinked.


    So did I.


    "Sparkle, is there something you want to tell us?" Ken asked.


    "Wait, hold up one moment," I interrupted. "Could he actually have done that? Gotten into my head and¡­what?"


    "At best, made you more suggestible," Ken said. "He would¡¯ve convinced you to bring him back here, through the Hall¡¯s defenses, and¡­who knows."


    "Not while I¡¯m around!" Sparkle said cheerfully. "Not while I¡¯m on the Master Key! Caley¡¯s mind is perfectly safe with me there."


    We both stared at her. But while Ken seemed ready to volley questions at her, I felt chilled to the bone in spite of the fire crackling cheerily a few feet away from me. Never in my life before had I felt the kind of muscle-clenching fear that was settling into my stomach.


    "I think," I said weakly, "I might throw up."


    Sparkle¡¯s cup clattered to the floor and she was kneeling at my feet in the blink of an eye. She took the cup from my hands and clasped them in hers, rubbing them gently and looking up at me. "You¡¯re safe, Caley," she said softly. "Completely safe. I protected you, and now you¡¯re home and nothing can reach you here."


    I had started shivering and couldn¡¯t seem to stop. "He was trying to get into my mind? To make me do things against my will¡­"


    To my absolute astonishment - so much so that I froze in place and actually stopped shivering - Sparkle crawled up into my lap and hugged me tightly, laying her head on my shoulder. She weighed next to nothing in spite of her size, and my arms automatically went around her. She was very warm, and the soft purple glow that she routinely shed seemed to sink into me, forcing my muscles to unclench and relax.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    At which point I realized that she was getting into my mind and doing this to me. But it didn¡¯t bother me¡­I could somehow tell that she calm she was inducing was from outside of me, and that I could resist if, if I wanted to.


    But she was trying to comfort me, and seemed to know a lot more about what had been going on and what could be done about it than I did¡­so I didn¡¯t resist. Instead, I let myself relax, hugging her a bit tighter and murmuring, "Thank you."


    She made a soft, contented sound against my neck, and glowed a little brighter.


    Ken sighed softly. "You¡¯ve had a scare, Caley. But, if you¡¯ll forgive me for saying so, I hope that this will finally convince you that I¡¯m not teaching you magic purely for the fun of it. Magic isn¡¯t a game, and neither is the Guardian¡¯s place in this world. For my part, I¡¯m profoundly thankful that your first encounter with one of the dangers you¡¯ll face was one you were well protected against."


    He was right, of course. I had been treating my lessons like a game, turning a blind eye to his warnings about the dangers I¡¯d eventually have to face. For the first time, I admitted to myself that what Ken was saying - and what I¡¯d seen hinted at in my father¡¯s journals - were true.


    I was in danger.


    Maybe not immediately. Maybe not life threateningly¡­at least, not this time. But I was in danger, and it was high time I started taking that seriously. For Sparkle. For Oakwood Hall. For the people in town of whom I was growing very fond. And for whatever future I could forge for myself here.


    I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I was still shaking a little, but the chill had faded, and my fingers and toes had stopped tingling.


    Sparkle sat up a little and met my eyes, smiling warmly.


    I nodded a little. "All right," I said quietly. "I guess it¡¯s time to start taking my lessons more seriously."


    Ken nodded. "It is."


    When he spoke, I thought I heard something sad in his voice, and - over Sparkle¡¯s shoulder - saw a hint of that sadness in his eyes. I wondered if he was mourning the loss of the innocence with which I¡¯d been approaching my magical education.


    I knew I was.


    Sparkle¡¯s smile became knowing, and she settled against me again, her head returning to my shoulder. I felt a bizarre urge to start petting her like some sort of oversize cat.


    I resisted the urge. I did, however, let her stay where she was, and held her close for a few minutes.


    When I finally felt wholly like myself again, I gave her a gentle little nudge, and she took the hint. But, surprising me again, instead of shrinking down she simply slipped off my lap to kneel on the floor beside my chair, where she promptly curled her arms around my legs and laid her head on my lap.


    Bemused, I rested my hand on her head, and she sighed happily.


    Ken settled into the chair across from us and I gave him a quizzical look. He shrugged and spread his hands, as if to say ¡®Fairies. Who knows?¡¯


    "I think," I said to Ken, "you¡¯d better explain to me what von Einhardt tried to do to me."


    Ken hesitated. "It¡¯s very advanced magic¡­but if it¡¯ll make you feel better¡­"


    "It probably won¡¯t," I said. "And I know I have a good defense against it that doesn¡¯t take any effort on my part¡­" and now I did actually pet Sparkle¡¯s hair for a moment, causing her to make a happy sound, "¡­but I think I should know anyway."


    Ken sighed a little. "You¡¯re probably right. Well, to begin with, mental magic - psychomancy or neuromancy, whichever you¡¯d prefer - is a very delicate art, usually. Contrary to what mortal hypnotists say, it is possible to make a person do something they don¡¯t want to. But it¡¯s not easy, and it can cause quite a bit of psychological damage if not done with extreme caution."


    He paused for a moment, perhaps gathering his thoughts, then continued. "Most neuromantic magic is like a scalpel. Fine-edged, delicate, and intended to do one specific thing. Whether that¡¯s to open up the target¡¯s mind to broader manipulation, or just implant a single suggestion or thought, it¡¯s usually very tightly focused. To do more than that at one time risks tearing apart the target¡¯s psyche. What von Einhardt was doing was probably like casting a net to see what he could catch."


    "That¡¯s exactly what he was doing," Sparkle said quietly.


    "With me as the catch of the day," I said, feeling grim and unsettled.


    "Yes, Caley," Ken said quietly. "Which is one of the reasons I¡¯ve been trying so hard to get you to take your magic lessons seriously. Physical defense is good, and the exercise is certainly good for you, but at the end of the day it¡¯s going to be your magic that truly keeps you safe."


    "It¡¯s also why Mistress Chessie enchanted her collar in such a way that I was able to channel my magic through it to protect her mind," Sparkle said. "And since you inherited her collar, and it was prepared for you, I can protect your mind too."


    I stroked her hair gently. "And I¡¯m very glad of it."


    Ken huffed a sound that was almost a laugh. "That¡¯s the answer to a very old puzzle, too."


    I gave him a curious look. He smiled. "Your mother was terrible at neuromancy. She had no aptitude for it at all. I always wondered how she went from mental defenses that were like Swiss cheese, to an iron fortress around her mind practically overnight." He looked at Sparkle. "Now I know."


    She giggled.


    His attention returned to me. "While I¡¯m incredibly glad that you inherited that protection, I think it would benefit you to start learning some mental defense. With your highly organized mind, you¡¯ll be a natural."


    I looked down at my lap, at the top of Sparkle¡¯s head, and sorted through my emotions for a minute before looking up again. "Ken, I¡¯m sorry I haven¡¯t been taking my lessons seriously."


    Ken smiled gently. "Apology accepted, Caley. For your penance, you¡¯ll spend the rest of the afternoon working on your shields."


    I perked up a little. Shields weren¡¯t bad.


    "Without your mother¡¯s shield ring focus," he added, sounding just a bit smug.


    I winced. "All right. Let me get changed, and - "


    "As you are," he interrupted. "You¡¯re wearing it now, aren¡¯t you?"


    "I wear it all the time now¡­I started to just leave it on when you had me use it during fencing practice a few times."


    "Good. And you¡¯ve gotten very good at roughly pushing raw power through it. It¡¯s a strong, quick defense, and I approve of you having it at your disposal." Ken leaned forward and spoke earnestly. "But it¡¯s not a flexible tool, and keeping it up for too long under a sustained assault - or even under one very strong one - would likely exhaust you and maybe even damage the ring, leaving you without defense."


    Good points all. I ruffled Sparkle¡¯s hair once more and gently dislodged her, rising and stepping into my ankle boots. "All right then. As I am. To the workshop!"


    "I do so miss calling it a - "


    "If you say that word, I swear¡­"


    Sparkle giggled and rose, heading for the door.


    "Wait one moment," Ken said, moving around in front of her. "One question first, Sparkle."


    She beamed at him. "What''s that?"


    "Is this the real secret of Mistress Chessie''s collar?" He asked. "The one you wouldn''t tell us about a few months ago?"


    "It''s one of them!" She said cheerfully, then walked straight through him to open the door.


    Ken and I exchanged looks¡­his a little bit frustrated, mine amused. "And that''s all she has to say about that," I said teasingly.


    "Yup!" Sparkle''s voice drifted in from the hallway outside. "Come on already!"


    That made both of us chuckle, and out we went, heading for the workshop. Once we were there, Ken had me take off my mother''s shield ring and leave it on one of the tables. Sparkle immediately shrank down to her normal size and sat down beside it. I then moved to a space we''d cleared off to one side, and Ken moved to stand across from me.


    "All right," Ken said, "begin by showing me a shield."


    I took a deep breath and let it out, envisioning the translucent blue disk of energy I was going to create in front of me. I gathered my energy, shaped my thoughts, raised my right hand palm outward, and whispered, "Tego."


    For a split second, a flat, perfectly circular disk of blue-white energy formed in front of my hand, centered on my palm precisely the way I wanted. Then it flickered and vanished.


    Sparkle giggled, and Ken smiled knowingly.


    "What just happened?" I asked. "I know I did it right."


    "You forgot to maintain the energy going to it," Ken said, still smiling. "You''re used to working with the ring, which makes moving energy so effortless that you probably stopped thinking about it. We really should spend some time working on more spells that require you to actively channel energy instead of just pull it in and send it out."


    I grimaced eloquently. "Yeah. Oops."


    "Indeed," Ken said with a soft chuckle. "Try it again, but maintain the spell this time."


    I cast the spell again, this time making sure to continue sending energy into the shield once it had formed. It hovered motionless in front of my hand, and I barely felt any drain from doing so. "There!" I beamed at Ken as Sparkle applauded.


    "Very good, Caley," Ken said approvingly. Then he moved so fast that I didn''t see what he was doing until a baseball slammed into the center of my shield.


    Concentric rings of lighter blue-white energy rippled out from the point of impact, and I swayed back slightly. But my shield held, and the baseball thudded to the floor a few feet away before rolling to a stop.


    "Excellent!" Ken enthused. "That was moving at a good 90 miles per hour. You just blocked a fastball, and it didn''t look like it was any strain at all."


    At which point I noticed the bucket of baseballs sitting just under the edge of a nearby table.


    I blinked a few times, and my shield vanished as I released it. "Why didn''t you warn me?"


    "Because someone who''s taking a shot at you probably won''t," Ken replied gravely. "You''re not likely to have any warning at all, really. We''re going to have to work on your reaction time for casting shields, and on your endurance in holding one in place under repeated blows. The ring will help with all of that, but I''d rather you learned to hold shields without first."


    Part of me wanted to yell at Ken and walk away. But then von Einhardt''s face sprang into my mind. I remembered what he''d tried to do, and how it had been so subtle that I hadn''t noticed it. Granted, I hadn''t known what I was looking for, and thinking back I thought I had noticed signs¡­but without that basic knowledge, they simply hadn''t registered as such.


    Then I imagined what would''ve happened if he''d simply attacked me instead of trying to subvert my will.


    "I have to learn to walk before I can run," I said softly.


    "As true with magic as any other new skill," Ken said with an understanding smile. "But this was a very satisfactory first effort. Now¡­" The baseball he''d thrown at me floated up off of the floor and drifted back to his hand, which was something I''d never seen him do before. "We''ll start with endurance, and work on reaction time later. En garde!"

 Chapter 34

    Before I could even think about complaining further, another baseball whizzed towards me. I could actually see this one coming, so I guessed that Ken hadn''t whipped another fastball at me, and I was able to get a shield up in time to deflect it. It bounced off of my shield and hit a nearby worktable.


    "I want you to try to curve and angle your shield so that the balls hit the outside wall of the room," Ken said. "Think you can do that?"


    I considered that for a moment¡­during which time another baseball struck my shield.


    "Hey!" I protested.


    "You''re not going to have time to think about this in a real fight," Ken said sternly. "You need to react more quickly."


    I was about to say something in return with another baseball slammed into my shield, this one faster and harder than the previous one. As it hit, I twisted the shield a bit and sent the ball spinning into the wall.


    "Better!" Ken said. "But that leaves you partly unprotected. I could hit you right now." He frowned a little. "I need to get a bucket of bean bags next time instead¡­"


    Seeing a fresh baseball lifting out of the bucket, I set myself and quickly reshaped my shield, curving it outwards from me and angling it just the slightest bit towards the wall. I kept it entirely between me and Ken, and the next half-dozen baseballs struck it and bounced cleanly to the wall.


    "This can''t seriously be the way shields are taught!" I protested, blocking another baseball.


    "I''ve heard that some wizards-in-training get it worse," Ken said. "I could be doing this with chunks of rock."


    I winced as another baseball thudded into my shield. This time, I noticed that after the impact, my shield didn''t look quite as solid to me, as if it had faded a bit, so I pushed more energy into it and it resumed its steady blue-white glow.


    A half-dozen baseballs struck my shield in quick succession, and I staggered back a step. While my shield was stopping them, it was still transferring some of their kinetic energy to me. "Is there any way to keep it from doing that?"


    "Eventually I''ll teach you how, but it''s a more advanced sort of shield," Ken said. "And I don''t think you''re quite ready to wrap your mind around it yet."


    "Why not?" I asked, trying not to feel just a bit insulted.


    "Because it violates inertia and conservation of energy," Ken said with a smile.


    "Wait, what?" Before I could convince him to answer, my shield was struck by another barrage of balls, and once again I found myself staggering back a little.


    "You''re doing really well," Ken said, "but I want to see how long you can hold that shield."


    I was starting to feel the strain a bit. "It''s getting harder," I said, putting both hands behind it and pushing more energy into it.


    "But look at how many you''ve stopped," Ken said encouragingly, as baseballs rolled across the floor and hopped back into his bucket. "And you''re not likely to have to sustain a shield under a constant barrage like this very often. Keep it up!"


    I leaned into it a bit this time as the baseballs began flying again, thudding one after another into my shield. Finally really concentrating on it, I began to notice that it was getting a little bit harder to keep the shield up with every impact. Each blow drew a bit more energy from me, and a bit more, and a bit more.


    "You''re doing great!" Ken said. "Let''s see what happens with a really solid blow."


    My eyes widened. "These haven''t been - "


    A half-dozen baseballs hit my shield all at once. This time I really felt the energy drain from it, my head swimming a bit as I kept the shield from faltering. "Ken¡­"


    "Don''t doubt yourself, Caley, you''re doing fantastically!" Ken''s enthusiasm had definitely gotten the better of him. I saw another round of balls clustering up to fly at me and braced myself.


    Eight baseballs hit my shield in a cluster. I managed to stop seven of them.


    The eighth passed through my shield like it was a thin layer of jelly that slowed it down a bit, but didn''t stop it. My failing shield also served to alter the ball''s trajectory slightly, which was a good thing¡­instead of hitting me in the stomach, it clipped my left hip.


    With a grunt of pain, I twisted to the left. My equilibrium, wobbly from the constant effort of keeping the shield up, tipped in that direction too, and down I went. My shield, of course, vanished instantly.


    I was so dizzy that it took me a moment to realize that Sparkle - once again the size of a teenager - had caught me before I could hit the floor. I was now cradled half in her lap and she was on her knees, holding me close. Her gentle purple radiance encompassed me and I felt my dizziness rapidly fade away, leaving me feeling drained and a bit wobbly. But at least the world wasn''t spinning anymore.


    Then Ken was kneeling beside us, somehow contriving to look paler than his usual misty white. "Caley, I''m sorry, I didn''t think¡­your father''s notes about shield lessons said that I should - "


    "My father," I interrupted him rudely, "has - as far as I can tell - made a pile of awful mistakes surrounding my life!"


    It took me a moment to realize that I''d actually shouted the last few words. Sister Sarah always told me, "Caley, when you''re so upset that you start shouting, I want you to take a deep breath and look inward. Getting that upset never helps anyone, but if you can calm yourself down and figure out why you''re shouting, you''ll often see that doing so isn''t going to help."


    So I took a deep breath and examined my mental state. It was, as I''d expected, pretty rocky. The intense exertion of keeping my shield up without the aid of my mother''s ring definitely hadn''t helped. Lots of people get cranky when they''re tired, and I''m one of them.


    But some of the discontent with my father''s choices and methods that had been growing for months had boiled out as well. I quickly suppressed it¡­I was not going to waste time being angry with a dead man who''d been trying to do the best he could under what appeared to be difficult circumstances.


    Ken sighed. "Perhaps his decisions surrounding your childhood weren''t very good ones, but - "


    "Childhood?" I said with more bitterness than I''d intended. I tried to get up, but was at such a strange angle - and didn''t want to hurt Sparkle - that all I could do was wobble unsteadily.


    Sparkle, bless her, immediately understood and rose effortlessly, setting me on my feet. I wondered briefly how she''d done that, but was too upset for the thought to linger. She stayed protectively close to me, steadying me with one hand on my left elbow, the other at the small of my back.


    "Ken," I said, "Growing up anonymously in an orphanage may have kept me away from the prying eyes of whoever or whatever my father thought wanted to hurt me, but it sucked."


    "You''re shouting again," Sparkle murmured in my ear, and her voice was incredibly soothing to my rattled nerves.


    I took another deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened them again, Ken was watching me with a mixture of sadness and frustration on his face. "It sucked," I said again, quietly this time. "Kids were in and out all the time, but the good ones never stayed for long. That left me with the anti-social ones, the bullies, the ''problem children.'' Sister Sarah did her very best for me, and I love her dearly, but I was mostly on my own until I was doing my A levels¡­before that, even kids at school were only distantly nice to me, because I looked different and was an orphan."


    Ken opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again and just looked sad. Sparkle''s arm slid around my back and she hugged me very gently.


    I opened my mouth to keep going¡­then stopped myself, closed my eyes again for a moment and started pushing all of the old hurts back into their little compartments. I was not going to do this.


    "We," Sparkle announced firmly as she gently started to turn me, "are going to spend some time in the garden."


    It was as serious as I''d ever heard her, and it made me turn a little to look at her. Her expression was serene, but her eyes held concern and and pain as they met mine. It made me blink in surprise, and she took a moment to hug me gently again before starting us toward the door. My feet followed her guidance without resistance.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "I''ll¡­round up some bean bags," Ken said weakly, "and¡­put some dinner together?"


    "That sounds like an excellent idea," Sparkle said calmly. "Bring it to the garden, please?"


    "Of course," Ken agreed.


    Then Sparkle and I were out in the hallway, and she was guiding me deeper into the house. "Sparkle - "


    "Nope," she cut me off. "No protests. The garden will be good for you."


    I thought fleetingly about arguing her¡­but she''d been right the first time she took me there, and she seemed to be very good at watching over my state of mind. So I let her guide me, and was glad of her support. I still felt kind of wobbly. And my hip hurt. I was going to have quite a bruise there, I suspected.


    I apparently felt no urgency to reach the garden, because it took us almost ten minutes of walking through halls to get there. Or perhaps this particular room, which felt deep inside the house, really was. Either way, by the time we arrived I had my feet back under me, though Sparkle stayed with one arm around me until I slowly settled into one of the chairs by the door.


    Dara appeared out of her tree the moment we came through the doors, and reached us as I sat down. She looked at me pensively, then sighed and looked at Sparkle. "What happened?"


    Sparkle shook her head. "I don''t understand, but Caley is hurting inside, and I didn''t know what else to do."


    Dara smiled gently and cupped Sparkle''s cheek in one hand for a moment. "Well, you did the right thing." She pulled over another chair and sat down facing me, so close that our knees were almost touching. "May I review your recent memories, Caley?"


    I opened my mouth, couldn''t find the words, closed my mouth again, and finally just nodded mutely. Sparkle, perhaps sensing she''d done all she could for now, settled to her knees in the grass beside my chair.


    Dara''s fingertips brushed my temples, then settled there. Her eyes closed, and a small frown creased her brow. After a minute she sat back and sighed. "Well, it''s not surprising. What is surprising is that you managed to repress those feelings for so long." She gave me a warm, concerned look. "Would you like to talk about it?"


    I looked down at my hands, folded in my lap. Then past them, to the striped purple and black tights Sparkle had chosen for me. That made me smile a little, and I reached over to rest a hand lightly on Sparkle''s nearest shoulder. Her hands came up and took mine, squeezing gently and not letting go, her warmth washing over me in a soothing wave.


    I started to talk quietly, and was surprised to find that - now, for the first time - the words came easily. How lonely I''d been at the orphanage, even with Sister Sarah bending every rule to give me extra attention. The bullying I''d experienced in primary school because of my hair and eye colors, and because of how effortlessly learning came to me. How I''d worked hard to graduate to secondary school early just to get away from that, only to find it was even worse now that the other girls were getting older and were jealous of my ''exotic'' looks.


    Dara sighed, interrupting my flood of words to nod. "In my limited experience, the children of every species can be cruel to those who are different or gifted in some way."


    Sparkle nodded. "It''s like that with the Sidhe, too. Not that they have children often anymore."


    I let those thoughts simmer for a moment before continuing, talking about studying for my A levels and how older students at the same level had taken advantage of ''the gifted girl'' to help them along, pretending to be my friends until I realized I was just doing their work for them a lot of the time. That had been nipped in the bud by the teachers when they realized what was going on, which had lead to me being the outsider once again.


    And college, undergrad and postgrad. It had been better, studying with people who were actually peers rather than just the same age. But then I learned about the difficulties of being a pretty girl in a world that was still largely male-dominated. Not that I was unusual in that respect, but it was another layer of frustration.


    "And," I said finally, beginning to wind down as I ran out of steam, "I can trace much of my pain back to my father sending me away. Why did he do it?"


    They both opened their mouths to reply, and I waved the question off with my free hand. "Rhetorical question. Intellectually I understand his reasoning, but¡­wouldn''t I have been better off here? With him? Learning all of this from a young age, so I''d be ready now instead of struggling to find my footing in a world that I barely understand anymore?"


    "And that," Dara said, "I think, is the crux of the matter." She smiled wryly. "I think the rest of the problems you''ve internalized are things young people have wrestled with since the dawn of Humanity''s domination of this world. Nothing you said there surprises me, anyway. I remember hearing Human children complain about similar things before the Hall was built around me."


    "It''s nice to know I''m not alone in those sentiments, at least," I said dryly.


    Dara smiled a little and nodded. "Indeed. As to your father¡­" She sighed. "James kept his own council on such matters. I often felt that Chessie was the only person in the whole world he trusted without reservation. He never spoke of his past, but¡­I don''t think his childhood and upbringing were particularly good ones."


    "I agree. And he definitely didn''t trust his old employers at the ICOA," Ken said quietly from behind me, pushing a cart up beside the table and starting to unload covered platters onto it. "Caley, I''m sorry. I''m so sorry. I didn''t mean to - "


    I shook my head and gave him what I suspected was a rather wan smile. "It''s as much my fault as yours, Ken. I played along when I could''ve said no, because I wanted to do a good job for you."


    He slid one of the platters over to me and took the lid off of it. I lifted an eyebrow and looked up at him. "Chicken tenders?"


    "With barbecue sauce," he said with a small smile. "I figured you''d want something simple to start, and you need the protein to recharge." He passed me a glass of apple juice. "And some sugars."


    Sparkle perked up at the mention of sugar, at which point Ken took the lid off of a second plate, revealing a large slice of chocolate cake. "For taking better care of Caley than I was."


    Sparkle released my hand and rose, walked over to where he floated, and gave his ephemeral cheek a little kiss. Then, in a burst of purple pixie dust, she was her natural size again and dove onto the slice of cake with her usual abandon.


    Ken moved around the table and sat in one of the empty chairs, sighing. "I''ve been trying to follow the curriculum vitae your father left behind as closely as possible¡­but even with the practical changes I made to it, the longer we try to work within it, the less I think he knew what was best for your magical education. Which makes me doubt his other decisions."


    Dara nodded seriously. "As I understand it, you''ve already modified them to some extent¡­"


    "As much as I could without disrupting the flow of training he laid out for her," Ken said, frowning down at his hands. "I introduced transfiguration early because Caley enjoys it. And Master James left no notes at all about her physical self-defense training. I''m not sure it ever occurred to him. So I''ve just been building off what she already knows there."


    "Which was a good way to start," I said between bites of chicken. "I''ve been enjoying the Jeet Kune Do. And Bruce''s book was a fascinating read."


    Ken nodded slowly, then smiled a little. "You remember what he said about accepting your limitations?"


    I nodded around a bite.


    "Your father never did, not really," he said. "He was constantly trying to overcome them and get around them. And to him, one of the worst limitations he saw was one that was going to be placed on you¡­growing up alone, in this house, with no one your own age for company."


    Ken frowned a little before continuing. "And yet¡­I see that in thinking that way, he placed limitations on himself, perhaps without realizing it. He was so afraid for your safety, that he felt that having you live in an orphanage, anonymously, away from Oakwood, was better for you than living alone with him here." He rubbed his face for a moment. "I¡­I think he was wrong. But he was afraid for you. And that fear became his greatest limitation." He hesitated briefly, then added, "I''m not sure that made sense."


    "Actually," Dara said, "it made excellent sense. At least to me." She smiled lopsidedly. "For a spirit of intellect, you showed uncommon wisdom there."


    Sprawled on her plate, Sparkle belched and giggled. Ken rolled his eyes, but he smiled.


    "Manners, little Sparkle," Dara said gently.


    "What''re those?" Sparkle giggled again.


    Yeah, definitely a long-running joke between them. But Sparkle had broken up the tension of the moment at just the right time, and - looking at the adorably smug little expression on her face - she had done it on purpose.


    I put down the piece of chicken I''d been about to dunk in sauce and sighed. "I¡­guess I didn''t realize how angry I was with my father."


    Dara tipped her head a little and gave me a very pointed look.


    I winced a little. "You''re right. At least unconsciously, I knew how angry I was with him, but I''ve been repressing it."


    "Along with a fair number of other old, and really fairly normal pains," Dara said gently, smiling a little now. "And you were transferring some of that anger onto Ken, I think."


    "But not intentionally," I said quickly.


    Ken smiled reassuringly. "I know that, Caley. And I really should have done a better job of adjusting his lesson plans." He grimaced a little. "And I should''ve dug up those bean bags first, rather than using baseballs on your first day casting shields without your mother''s focus. How''s your hip?"


    "It hurts a little," I admitted. "Feels like I''m going to have quite a bruise there."


    "I can take care of that!" Sparkle said cheerfully, zooming past my face as if she hadn''t been sprawled in cake crumbs a moment earlier. In an instant, she was teenager-sized again and by my side. "You should''ve said you were hurting," she chided me gently as she knelt down beside me. "Where? Here?"


    She found the spot on my hip and pressed her hands against it gently. After a moment, I felt her warmth spreading into my hip, easing the soreness and loosening the feeling of tightness I associated with bruising. When she sat back a moment later, the pain was completely gone.


    "Wow, Sparkle," I said, smiling down at her. "I didn''t know you could do that! Thank you!" I bent and kissed her forehead gently.


    She glowed brightly for a moment, looking up at me with her happy ''I''m helping'' expression. "You''re welcome, Caley!" Then, without another word, she laid her head in my lap and hugged my legs gently.


    I looked at Dara, who just smiled and shrugged, then at Ken, who was watching Sparkle with curiosity and affection. He saw me watching and he shrugged too.


    It was just the way she was. So I rested my left hand lightly on her hair and went back to eating. Sparkle, in turn, sighed happily and hugged my legs tighter for a moment.


    "Do you at least feel a little bit better, having gotten all of that off your chest?" Dara asked.


    I gave her a small smile. "You''re an excellent therapist. Yes, I think I actually do. But I feel drained, and not just physically."


    "I''m not surprised," Dara said. "You''d been repressing those feelings for some time, after all. Just remember, it''s okay to feel angry, as long as you don''t let that anger dominate you."


    "And I think we''ll take the day off tomorrow," Ken said. "You had a stressful day today."


    "Oh?" Dara asked.


    So Sparkle and I filled Dara in on our encounter with Bellinus von Einhardt - a name that she sadly didn''t recognize - and our rushed escape from him.


    "That was very clever of you, Sparkle," she said, "camouflaging Caley like that. You did very well."


    Sparkle beamed - and glowed - brightly for a moment. "Thank you!"


    "She really - " I broke off to hide a yawn behind my hand. The day really was catching up with me. "She really did."


    "Bedtime!" Sparkle said firmly, seeming to levitate to her feet. She took my hands and pulled me to my feet as Ken rose and began gathering up the dishes.


    "I''ll just take these out to the kitchen and do my nightly check," Ken said, "then I''ll check on you."


    Dara smiled and rose as well. "And I will always be right here whenever you need me."


    I moved forward and hugged Dara tightly, murmuring my thanks. Then, exhausted, I headed to my room, and bed.

 Chapter 35

    Since my day out to unwind and be normal had gone so very badly, I resolved the next morning to have a day in. Ken, bringing me breakfast in bed, graciously chose not to say "I told you so," but I could see it on his face.


    Still, if nothing else at all good came of the previous day, I had at least gained actual appreciation for why I needed to learn to protect myself. And, of course, the catharsis that had followed was undoubtedly healthy for me. Even if I still had a lot of feelings to sort through before I''d really be able to forgive my father for what I now consciously viewed as a series of dreadful mistakes.


    I could still be wrong, after all. Who knew how things would turn out. I mean¡­if someone had asked me six months ago if I believed in magic, I would''ve laughed at them.


    After a positively sinful breakfast and a long hot soak in the tub, I got dressed and went for a walk inside the Hall. After a scare like the one I''d had, it seemed like a good time to remind myself of why I''d decided to put down roots here.


    When I asked Ken if he wanted to go with me, he gave me a rueful smile. "I believe I''m going to put this time to good use by revising my lesson plans for your magical education, and move them further away from your father''s. Go explore. You can''t come to any harm in the Hall, especially with Sparkle by your side."


    So, after orienting myself - as much as one ever could within Oakwood Hall - by going to the foyer, I plunged headlong into the Hall, with Sparkle on my shoulder.


    I quickly found myself confronted by the old Greek amphora I''d seen once before, sitting in its nook between two doors, highlighted by a recessed spotlight. Perhaps I''d been curious to see it again¡­it was fascinating to look at an artifact that had to be nearly as old as recorded Greek history¡­and that was why the Hall had brought me to it first.


    Or perhaps, I thought, it was a gentle warning from the Hall, not to be too curious about some of the secrets hidden within its walls. The amphora was, after all, decorated with the story of Pandora''s Box.


    Well¡­Pandora''s amphora, anyway, since that''s what she was depicted as opening. Which, honestly, made a lot of sense from a purely historical perspective.


    As before, the thing seemed to radiate a sense of oily cold, and I couldn''t quite bring myself to go up and touch it. But at the same time, as I got closer to it, it seemed to gently pull at my senses. From where she was perched on my shoulder, I felt Sparkle shift as she murmured, "I don''t think we should get any closer to that."


    "You feel it too?" I asked curiously.


    "Yeah," she said softly. "It''s¡­it''s not bad, but it''s not good either. And I think it wants to be opened."


    I nodded a little. "But if it''s dangerous, why is it out here in the open?"


    She giggled. "You mean inside the magical house which can change its floor plan at will, and has the strongest magical defenses I''ve ever seen? It''s not like anyone will ever see it except us."


    I snorted a little laugh. Somehow, that hadn''t occurred to me. "You make a good point," I said. "Still, I''d feel better if that was somewhere much safer." I touched the wall and, using just emotions, expressed my concern about the visibility of such an unsettling and valuable artifact, and my desire to have it someplace safer.


    Before my eyes, the low platform that the amphora sat on slid back and melted into the wall, taking the ancient artifact with it. A few moments later, the platform returned, this time bearing a marble statue of the goddess Athena. She appeared as she did in many classical depictions of her, in flowing robes, with a spear in her right hand and a shield on her left arm, a tall helmet atop her head, and an owl perched on her shoulder.


    As it arrived, the statue was looking directly at me, and I could''ve sworn that its expression was approving. I shook my head and started down the hall away from it¡­but not before I thought I saw it wink at me. I shook my head a little and ignored that¡­I''d seen much stranger things already, and it was probably just the Hall expressing its approval of my decision.


    We paid a brief visit to the aquarium, and after spending a few minutes watching the tropical fish, I said, "Shall we come back here for lunch?"


    "Yeah!" Sparkle said from where she was plastered up against the curved glass wall. "This''d be a great place to have lunch!"


    Decision made, we moved on, walking the halls for a few minutes before going up a flight of stairs at random and turning a corner. There, I found myself confronted not by another hallway, but by a pair of frosted glass doors. The one on the right had the word "Pool" stenciled on the glass in blocky black lettering.


    "Seriously?" I asked. "I have a swimming pool?"


    "Why not?" Sparkle asked with a giggle.


    Curious, I gave the right-hand door a push and went through into a much warmer, considerably more humid room. The floor was non-slip ceramic tile in a seemingly random pattern of sea blues and greens. And, lo and behold, it held not only an Olympic-size swimming pool, but also a hot tub that looked big enough for five or six people, a half-dozen shower stalls along one wall, and the same number of lockers.


    But what really drew my attention was the far wall. The room was about two stories tall, and the entire far wall was made of huge glass panels, with a normal sized door directly across from where we now stood in the middle of the room.


    Outside was rocky, mountainous country, covered in a thick layer of absolutely undisturbed, pristine snow, dotted here and there with steaming pools of water.


    Hot springs.


    "Wow," Sparkle and I said together. Then we both giggled.


    I skirted the pool, making a mental note to pick up some swimsuits somewhere, and walked up to the glass. Pressing my hand against it, I found it only cool to the touch, as if heavily insulated against the cold. "Huh. This isn''t actually glass, is it."


    Sparkle fluttered up to it and touched it, then shrugged. "Dunno. Is it important?"


    I smiled. "Probably not. Doesn''t look like there''s anybody out there to see in anyway."


    "They wouldn''t be able to," Sparkle said with certainty. "Not without knowing it was here in the first place. The Hall protects itself that way."


    "Just like the windows in my bedroom," I said.


    "Exactly!" Sparkle fluttered back and forth.


    "Is there any way to tell where that is?" I asked.


    Sparkle frowned in concentration, her hands pressed against the glass now. "It''s¡­not in the mortal world. It''s Faerie out there. Specifically, Winter. I can just barely feel it through the glass."


    "So this is like my clearing, but in Unseelie territory?"


    Sparkle nodded. "It''s probably perfectly safe, but I wouldn''t go out there without knowing if it''s our territory, like the clearing outside your room, or not."


    "Would I be trespassing?" I asked.


    "No," Sparkle said, "but you wouldn''t have any protections either. The clearing outside your room is yours, even though it''s in Summer. You''re completely safe there, and nothing that means you harm can enter. We don''t know that about this area."


    "What about the fairies?" I asked curiously.


    She beamed at me. "We come and go where we please. But even we wouldn''t be able to enter your clearing if we meant you harm."


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    That was good to know. It amazed me how much useful information never came up until I tripped over it like this. "How would we go about finding out about this area?" I asked, gesturing to the hot springs outside. I''d always wanted to try soaking in one.


    Sparkle looked thoughtful. "There might be a record of it somewhere in Master James''s files. Or Ken might know. Or you could walk out there and wait for someone to notice you."


    "That sounds like a dreadful idea," I said, knowing full well she wasn''t serious about the last one.


    She giggled. "Yeah, it''d probably end pretty badly."


    "Well, I''ll start by asking Ken," I said, turning away from the view and walking back towards the interior door. "I''d love to have a soak in one of those hot springs."


    Sparkle fluttered along beside me. "That does sound pretty nice."


    "That hot tub looks pretty nice too," I added, thinking that we didn''t need to go outside to enjoy a soak. It''d just be cooler.


    "Yup!" Sparkle agreed, zooming once around the steaming water of said tub before catching up with me.


    I jumped in surprise when one of the lockers popped open as we walked past them. Its door swung wide, revealing a half-dozen racing-style one-piece swimsuits in various patterns of black, green, and purple.


    One hand to my chest - it had startled me badly - I found myself laughing breathlessly. "I¡­I guess the Hall is willing to provide swimwear!"


    Sparkle giggled. "I guess so!"


    We moved on, heading out and back down the stairs, and went down a different hallway than the one we''d arrived from. No surprises there.


    I stopped to admire an exquisite reproduction of Van Gogh''s "Starry Night," and felt it to be almost too perfect a reproduction. Quietly, I asked Sparkle, "This is just a reproduction, right?"


    Sparkle, flitting back and forth in front of it, shrugged. "Dunno. It could be the original, I guess. It''s so beautiful, isn''t it?"


    I smiled. "It really is."


    A dozen doors further on, we found a door - dark, varnished wood with the Hall''s oak and ivy motif carved around its edges - with a sign hanging on it that said "Lounge."


    "I remember this room!" Sparkle said. "Let''s go in!"


    "All right," I said, already pulling the Master Key out on its chain to unlock the door.


    Inside, I found a room that - at first glance - looked like it might have escaped from an old-fashioned gentleman''s club. There was a bar along one wall, with several high-backed chairs spaced out along its length, and a fireplace at the far end of the room with a couple of leather armchairs in front of it with a small round table between them. The center of the room was taken up with a well-used, but obviously well cared-for, pool table.


    The effect was somewhat ruined by the far wall, which was dominated by a row of old stand-up arcade game cabinets and a couple of pinball machines, none of which were turned on. But still, I could see the appeal of the room. It was cozy, and had a relaxed atmosphere to it that I quite liked.


    "Mistress Chessie and Master James came to this room sometimes," Sparkle said as she landed on my shoulder. "Just to spend a quiet evening in front of the fire, or to play a game of pool, or just to get away from their usual spots."


    "I can see why," I said. "I don''t know how to play, but it''d be fun to learn."


    "I bet Ken knows how," Sparkle said. "He knows everything."


    Not everything, maybe¡­but certainly a lot. In this instance, she was probably right. "We''ll ask him later," I said. "And we''ll come back here once in a while, I think. There''s a¡­a restfulness to this room."


    Sparkle just made a soft sound of agreement, and we moved on again.


    Further down the hall, I found a set of stairs that down from where we were, and followed them curiously. We went down five flights of stairs - past three hallways - before the stairs ended in a basement, something I had begun to think Oakwood Hall didn''t have.


    There was some storage along the wall that the stairs arrived through, which I checked out curiously. Nearest the stairs there were piles of unlabeled cardboard boxes and some empty suitcases that looked like they''d been made in the 1980''s. Beyond them, older luggage and a pile of steamer trunks, one of which had a tag hanging off of it that read "Grandma Rose''s wardrobe."


    I wondered when they''d been packed and put here, and how many generations back ''Grandma Rose'' actually was.


    Past the steamer trunks, there were some very old wooden crates, and even a couple of strongboxes made of iron-banded wood with heavy iron padlocks on them. One was marked with runes that I wasn''t familiar with, and which had a faint red glow to them. I gave that one a wide berth.


    Turning from the wall of storage - which I resolved to return and examine carefully at some future date - I took in the rest of the basement, which appeared to be filled with rows of free-standing wine racks. I had never seen so many bottles of wine in one place in my life before.


    "Holy cow," Sparkle said quietly.


    "You''ve never been down here before?" I asked, feeling surprised.


    "Nope," she fluttered off my shoulder and hovered beside me. "I didn''t think the Hall even had a basement."


    "Let alone a wine cellar, huh?" I smiled. "I don''t suppose you know anything about wine?"


    "I know that if it''s sweet, I like it," she giggled.


    I chuckled softly. Why had I even bothered asking, when I''d already been pretty sure of that answer. "Can fairies even get drunk?" I asked curiously.


    "Oh, sure," she said, bobbing in place once. "But it takes Elf-made wine, or really really strong distilled spirits."


    My brain, having grown used to associating the word ''spirit'' with Ken, produced a truly bizarre mental image, then adjusted appropriately. I shook my head a little and started down one of the rows. "So Elves are real?"


    "Sure," Sparkle said, fluttering along beside me. "There''s Huldra, who come from Faerie and are slightly smaller than mortals - like teenager-sized, I think - but look just like humans, except for slightly pointed ears. And there''s High Elves, who came from somewhere outside Faerie in Otherworld and are tall and beautiful. They''re really rare, but usually friendly." She paused, fluttering up and down in front of a rack of incredibly ornate cut-crystal bottles. "Hey! These are Elf-made wines!"


    "Are they safe for me to drink?" I asked. I might not be much of a drinker, but who could pass up the opportunity to try an Elf-made wine?


    "Sure! Just not a lot, they''re really, really strong." Sparkle pointed to one of the bottles. "I recognize that one¡­it should be sweet and light if you want to try one."


    I carefully pulled the bottle from the rack - there turned out to be two more behind it that gently slid into place as it was removed - and examined it curiously. It wasn''t labeled, and the liquid within was a rich amber color with silvery flecks floating in it. "What''re those?"


    She peered into the bottle. "Dunno. I think they''re just part of the wine."


    Interesting. "Okay." I tucked the bottle under my arm, completely certain that whoever had laid in this supply of wine would have made sure that nothing here would ever turn to vinegar, and started down the row again as Sparkle settled back on my shoulder.


    The lights seemed to grow a bit dimmer as we continued, changing from modern overhead tube lights, to incandescent bulbs, to hanging gas lamps as we went. But finally we reached the end of the row, and found ourselves confronted by a solid stone wall¡­it actually looked like the back wall of the basement had been carved out of solid granite and then smoothed out.


    Set into the wall, offset a few feet to the left of where we''d emerged, was a door.


    That didn''t surprise me much¡­I''d grown used to seeing doors in odd places all over the Hall. But the construction of the door was a shock. It looked like something you would''ve seen in an old-fashioned bank vault, made of solid steel, with a big wheel in the middle of it and a keyhole on the right side. It was set flush into the wall, and either opened inward, or perhaps its hinges were embedded within the granite wall itself, as there was no sign of them on the outside.


    Instead, the stone around the door was engraved with three layers of more unfamiliar runes that glowed blue-white in the dim, flickering light from the gas lamps. The layers of runes even continued onto the floor, running across it in front of the door.


    "Wow," I said.


    "Seconded," Sparkle said, sounding as awed as I felt.


    "I feel like I shouldn''t try to open that." I added, aware that it was a massive understatement.


    "Yeah," Sparkle said in a hushed voice, "don''t try to do that."


    I shivered a little. If Sparkle was unnerved by it, I''d better stay well away from it. Still¡­


    "Ken," I called.


    He materialized beside me a moment later. "Yes, Caley?" Then he looked around in confusion, blinking. "Wait, where are we? I mean, we must be in the Hall, because I''m here, but¡­"


    "Wine cellar," I said, holding up the bottle I''d taken. "Some storage back that way," I pointed, "and this thing," I pointed to the door.


    He stared at it. "That," he said after a moment, "is one serious door."


    I snorted a little laugh in spite of myself, and Sparkle giggled a little.


    "No, really," Ken said, moving closer to examine it. "The door is heavily warded, and not just by the runes running around it. They''re¡­I don''t know what they are. I''ve never seen their like before."


    Which was really saying something.


    "I mean," he continued, "there''s another layer of magical wards inside the door itself. I have no idea how, but I can feel them."


    I stepped forward and started to lift my left hand, curious to try sensing them as well, but Ken held up a hand and shook his head. "No, don''t. There''s a lot of power there. It''s old, and far too complex for you to try to get a read on at this point. I think we should all stay well away from this door."


    "Is it the nexus of realities that my great-great-great-whatever-grandmother opened by accident?" I asked.


    Ken shook his head. "No, that''s long-since been absorbed into the structure and magic of the Hall itself. I honestly don''t know what this door is."


    I took a little step back, feeling a bit chilled by that. I quickly tamped that down, and asked, "Don''t know, or don''t remember?"


    Ken turned to look at me, a bemused expression on his face. "Good question. One moment." He closed his eyes, turning his attention inward, and after a moment winced a little and opened his eyes again. "You are correct, Caley¡­this appears to be one of the things your father made me forget. I can feel the empty place in my memories."


    I nodded a little. "Probably nothing to worry about, then," I said, turning away from it. "Just something else I''m not equipped to deal with yet, and which you''ll remember when I''m ready."


    "Indeed," Ken said¡­but as we walked back toward the stairs, I thought he''d sounded just a little bit too uncertain of that.


    Still¡­after months of exploration, I''d seen nothing at all within the Hall that could hurt me, as long as I left the things I didn''t understand yet alone. Surely, this was just another of those things.


    I glanced over my shoulder to find the door already out of sight, and shivered again.


    Nothing at all to worry about. Sure.

 Chapter 36

    I woke the next morning feeling refreshed and ready to get back to my studies. My two days off had both, in their own ways, been restful¡­but both had ended in unsettling ways that had served to reinforce - in ways that Ken and Sparkle''s warnings hadn''t - the importance of learning to protect myself.


    And, of course, I hadn''t had a bad night''s sleep since arriving at the Hall¡­between Ken''s lessons and Sparkle''s ability to keep away nightmares, I''d slept better over the last five months than I ever had before.


    After stretching and yawning - while Sparkle mirrored both actions in her nightlight above me - I rolled out of bed and padded towards the closet. The sun was, as always, shining warmly outside my windows, and that helped make up my mind. "Sparkle, I''m going to exercise in the field outside this morning. I''m sure the soda bottles need to be replaced by now, too¡­be a dear and bring three new ones from the kitchen."


    Sparkle was out of her nightlight and across the room in a shot, moving so quickly that her happy "Okay, Caley!" seemed to trail behind her as she opened the door and disappeared into the hallway.


    I smiled. She was always so thrilled when I asked her to do something for me. On some level, I felt like it should bother me¡­but she was what she was, and I could accept that. I just had to be careful not to take advantage of her eager willingness.


    Something to keep in the back of my mind.


    I dressed in leggings, black with purple stripes down the side (there seemed to be more purple in my closet suddenly) and a matching sport t-shirt. Then I grabbed my rolled-up yoga mat, and climbed out the window into the pleasantly cool summer morning.


    (In March. That still made my head ache a bit when I thought about it, regardless of how I was beginning to understand - at least vaguely - the nature of the Otherworld.)


    The grass in the clearing outside my window was soft enough to safely go barefoot, so I did, wriggling my toes in the grass a bit as I walked a few steps from the window. As I finished unrolling my yoga mat, Sparkle zoomed through the window with three bottles of cola trailing in the air behind her.


    "Cheater," I said cheerfully. "You know Ken wants you to practice being big whenever the opportunity presents itself."


    "It''s too early!" Sparkle protested just as cheerfully, carefully setting the bottles down near me.


    "Yeah, I know that feeling," I said, collecting the first bottle and moving over to the feeder poles. It hadn''t been hard to reproduce the work Mom had done to make the first one, and Ken had used the opportunity to teach me some basic enchanting techniques. Surprisingly, that hadn''t been hard either¡­the most complicated part had been the preservation enchantment to keep the soda fresh. Engraving the tiny runes on the feeder had been hard, but they hadn''t needed to be as precise as the ones I''d carved on my staff, so even that had gone pretty quickly.


    All told, it had taken me about two weeks to make two more of the soda-feeders. Time well-spent, in my opinion, as it both improved my standing with the local fairy community and had seemingly drawn more of the charming little creatures to my clearing.


    "Good morning," Ken''s voice said from behind me as I finished putting the third fresh bottle into the feeder. When I turned, I saw him leaning against the open window frame and smiling. But, as usual, his eyes didn''t stay on me for long, instead roaming to the edge of the woods that were visible from the window.


    I didn''t let that bother me, just scooped up the empty bottles and walked back to the window. "Good morning, Ken. Could you put these in the recycling for me?" I offered him the three bottles.


    It was something of an in-joke, since there was no trash pickup at the Hall. ''Recycling'' was the Brownies, who - as Ken explained it - composted everything that could be for use in Dora''s garden, re-purposed some of what couldn''t be for their own uses, and eliminated the rest with magic. Talk about a clean environment.


    He smiled and took them, nodding. "Certainly. Exercising out here today?"


    "Yeah," I said. "Fresh air, fairies - " a streak of blue whipped past between us even as I said it, on its way to the feeders, and I smiled. "What more do I need?"


    "Just be aware of your surroundings," Ken said seriously. "That''s all I ask."


    I frowned a little and nodded gravely. "I think my brush with von Einhardt the other day finally hammered home why you were harping on that."


    "Good," he tucked the bottles under his arm and his smile returned. "In that case, I''ll be back in a few minutes."


    I returned to my mat and paused to look at the multi-colored blur of motion surrounding the feeders. As I watched, fairies darted in for a quick drink - reminding me of videos I''d seen of hummingbirds - then zoom away (sometimes with faint, high-pitched cries ranging from wordless joy to gleeful "WHEE!"s) to join their fellows, doing whatever it was fairies did. Some of them were taking a dip in the birdbath, splashing happily with one another, while others seemed to be playing some sort of mid-air game that involved passing an acorn around, and still more were settling on the windowsill or in the grass nearby to watch me exercise.


    Who was I to disappoint them? I smiled and set to it, beginning with yoga, and eventually moving on to muscle-toning exercises that Ken had taught me, which were based on forms he was teaching me in my Jeet Kune Do lessons.


    As I understood it, I was actually learning bits and pieces from several different martial arts styles, based on what Ken felt would be most useful to me in the short term - for building strength and endurance - and in the long term, for learning to defend myself effectively. That was, after all, the essence of Jeet Kune Do: as Bruce Lee had said, "Absorb what is useful, discard what is useless, and add what is specifically your own."


    I looked forward to discovering what was specifically my own. Perhaps something integrating magic? That was an interesting thought. I didn''t think I would ever be a terribly strong fighter, but I could be a fast one, and perhaps I could use magic to make up the difference in some way?


    These thoughts slowly faded to a meditative emptiness as I exercised, concentrating on my body and movements. I made a correction here, adjusted a stance there, and only slowly became aware that the constant, cheerful chatter of the fairies - which I had grown accustomed to - had tapered off to silence.


    I stopped and looked down at Sparkle, who usually exercised beside me, doing her best to mimic what I was doing. Instead, she was hovering a few feet away, between me and the forest, staring outward. A number of other fairies were doing the same.


    Before I could ask what was wrong, two of the larger fairies - the red and silver ones who seemed particularly friendly with Sparkle - suddenly shot off towards the woods with several of their compatriots trailing in their wake.


    I blinked. "Sparkle?"


    "Something''s coming," she said. "They went to look."


    I turned to face the forest and stepped off my mat into the soft grass. "Should I be worried?"


    "Possibly," Ken said from behind me. "You might want to come back inside."


    "Do we know it''s hostile?" I asked uneasily.


    "Not yet," Ken admitted. "And if it''s friendly, hiding from it wouldn''t make the best first impression."


    I planted my feet and watched the tree line. "Then I''m going to stay right here for now."


    Behind me, Ken sighed, but didn''t protest.


    I took stock. I was dressed in a thin layer of spandex. I did not have my staff. I hadn''t put on Mom''s shield ring yet that morning. In fact, the only other thing I had on - underwear aside - was my choker with the Master Key on it.


    For the first time, I really understood why Ken had gone on about the importance of learning to work without foci before learning to make and work with them.


    Fortunately, I''d been doing precisely that.


    Something crashed in the woods.


    "That doesn''t sound terribly friendly," I said uneasily.


    "Nothing that means to harm you can enter the clearing," Sparkle said with absolute certainty.


    For the first time, the wording of that statement stood out to me. "What about something that doesn''t mean me harm?"


    Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Sparkle turn to look at me. "Oh! Um¡­"


    "Caley," Ken said, "perhaps you should - "


    He was interrupted by another crash, and something big, greenish-brown, and weirdly lumpy tumbled out of the woods, surrounded by a blurred cloud of fairies. The red one detached herself from the scrum to utter a shrill, alarmed cry of "Ogre!" before diving back in.


    The large greenish-brown lumpy thing clambered to its feet ponderously and resolved into a roughly humanoid form that had to be at least eight feet tall and was built like a flabby wall. It was dressed in loose, brown homespun garments - a shirt and trousers - and had a face that looked like a rotten pumpkin. It immediately began flailing at the fairies, taking awkward steps this way and that, which I guessed was how it had ended up tumbling into the clearing.


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    "Friendly?" I asked Sparkle and Ken.


    "No," they said together. Then Ken added, "Caley, come ins - "


    "No," I interrupted him. "I''m not letting that¡­thing¡­hurt my fairies! Sparkle, tell them to get clear."


    For the first time in my life, I wanted to lash out at a living creature. This ugly, lumpy, disgusting ogre (seriously, I could already catch whiffs of the rotten stink coming off of it) dared to try to hurt the charming little creatures that had been so friendly toward me. I was not going to allow that to happen.


    Then, even as Sparkle shot towards the pitched battle, one of the fairies - I thought it was the silver one - was swatted out of the air and thudded to the earth.


    "No!" I realized that cry had come from my lips, and that I was already gathering power for a spell.


    "Get out of the way!" Sparkle shouted. "Get clear!"


    I reduced the amount of power I was gathering¡­I didn''t actually want to kill the ogre, I just wanted to drive it away. It might not be friendly, but¡­I just¡­no. I wasn''t going to kill if I could help it.


    The ogre swung an open hand at another fairy - the red one, busily trying to get the others to move away - and I acted without thought. I thrust my right hand forward, pointed, and cried "Tego!"


    The spell did exactly what I had imaged it doing. A circular plane of glowing blue-white force formed between the ogre''s hand and the red fairy, intercepting the blow. I actually felt the impact, distantly, and grunted a little as I had to pour more energy into the spell¡­but the shield held, deflecting the ogre''s hand.


    The red fairy stared up at the intercepted blow in shock, then zoomed away, followed by most of her fellows. Heading roughly in my direction.


    The ogre''s eyes tracked their retreat, and it saw me for the first time. Its eyes widened, and a hungry expression settled onto its face. It licked its lips and growled, "Human¡­"


    Then it started towards me with lumbering steps.


    "Ogres consider humans food!" Ken shouted.


    Oh. Well, that explained it. A snippet of the old fairy-story Jack the Giant-killer popped into my head. Blood of an Englishman, hm?


    And of course, it was already in the clearing, so obviously that protection really was as specific as its wording. That was something to consider.


    Later, I sternly reprimanded my brain. Then I gathered more power to cast another spell. Shields were not going to cut it here¡­it was time to actively defend myself.


    Fee-fi-fo-fum this.


    I thrust my right hand forward again, balled up into a fist, and cried, "Impulsus!"


    A blast of mostly invisible force left my fist, making the air appear to ripple for a moment. It struck the ogre squarely on its chin, halting its advance and rocking its head back for a moment. Then it gave its head a little shake and refocused on me. "Magic human." It grinned, displaying yellow, rotted-looking teeth. "Yum."


    It started towards me again.


    Okay, reassess the threat response. Clearly, my comparatively small force spell wasn''t going to dissuade this thing. I gathered power again and - quashing my unease - envisioned lightning.


    Fortunately, as large and strong as it obviously must be, the ogre was slow. Mass apparently mattered, even in the Otherworld. I thrust two fingers towards the ogre and said - trying to moderate the amount of energy I was using - "Fulparum."


    I didn''t want to kill it. Just hurt it enough to make it think twice about what it was doing.


    The small bolt of lightning, not much more powerful than a police taser, leaped from my fingers to the ogre''s chest. It stopped in its tracks, looked down at itself awkwardly, and rubbed the scorched spot on its shirt. Then it laughed and rumbled, "Tingly!"


    Duh, Caley, as Sheila would''ve said. This thing was easily four or five times the mass of an adult male human, if not more. That spell wasn''t going to do much of anything to it.


    But it had distracted the ogre, which gave me enough time to try again. I quickly gathered more power - I realized it was easier here in the Otherworld than it had been when I''d tried it outside the Hall - and thrust two fingers toward it again. This time, I called out, "Fulmen!" and didn''t hold back.


    A genuine bolt of lightning, bright enough to make me squint and close in intensity to the one I''d blown up Ken''s first Tesla Coil with, arced from my fingertips to the ogre. It forked a couple of times, leaving scorch marks in the grass, and struck the monster squarely in the middle of its chest.


    After my two failed attempts to send it packing, it was incredibly satisfying to see the ogre knocked clean off its feet and sent sprawling almost all the way back to the edge of the woods.


    I felt a bit light-headed for a moment, but it passed quickly enough for me to be a bit disturbed by feeling satisfied at having actually harmed the thing. Apparently, part of me had decided to give my conscience a pass regarding the ogre, and was now willing to genuinely do it harm.


    It groaned and slowly sat up. A substantial hole had been burned through its shirt - the edges were still smoking a little - and the skin beneath was blackened and ugly. Well¡­uglier.


    "Ow," it said, struggling to its feet and wincing as it tried to rub its chest. "Ow!" it said again, then it gave me a sullen look and started to back towards the woods. Apparently, it had had enough.


    Thank goodness.


    "Caley, you can''t let it go!" Ken called from the open window into my bedroom.


    I turned to look at him, bewildered. "What? Why not? You can''t want me to kill that thing. Do you?"


    "You don''t have any choice!" he said urgently. "If it gets away, it could tell someone you''re here! That the Hall is inhabited again!"


    I heard a rustle of leaves and swung back around, trying to think of something I could do other than blast the creature again. It might have wanted to hurt the fairies and eat me, but still¡­it was a living creature. Right?


    And while it clearly wasn''t terribly bright, it also wasn''t stupid. It seemed to realize that it was in danger, because it suddenly turned where it was trying to back into the woods and took off into them at a surprising clip, out of sight almost instantly.


    "Want me to try to follow it?" Sparkle offered.


    "No," I said firmly. "I obviously shouldn''t leave this clearing, and neither should you." I turned back to Ken. "Right?"


    He sighed and nodded. "You''re right. Well¡­it was going to happen sooner or later, and that''s assuming the fairies haven''t been gossiping anyway. It doesn''t matter in the long run." He gave me a long, searching look, "But we''re going to have to have a talk about not leaving dangerous, hostile creatures alive when they attack you."


    "We''re also going to have to have a talk," I shot back, "about what ''anything that means me harm can''t enter the clearing'' actually means."


    Ken smiled lopsidedly. "Which makes it time to start teaching you about the Sidhe in earnest, I suppose." He sighed again and leaned against the windowsill.


    I nodded, turned and started toward the edge of the woods. "Sparkle, come on! Do you know anything about fairy first aid?"


    Sparkle zoomed up beside me. "Sure! Lots!"


    It wasn''t hard to find the spot where the silver fairy had gone down. Several other fairies were already clustered around her, including the red one, and they made a space for me as I knelt down with them. The silver fairy was already sitting up, one hand to her head.


    Sparkle landed beside her and did something with her hands, speaking so softly with the silver fairy that I couldn''t hear what she said. Then she turned to look up at me and smile. "She''s all right, Caley. Just a bit of a bump. We''re tougher than we look."


    The last of my tension melted out of me and I relaxed with a sigh. "I''m glad." I smiled down at the silver fairy, then took in the others as well. "Thank you very much for helping to protect me. Without you, I might not have known that thing was here until it was too late."


    Every last one of them glowed brighter and beamed up at me. And I swear I saw the silver and red ones grow a hair taller. They still weren''t as tall as Sparkle, but they were definitely taller than most of their fellows.


    Remembering what Sparkle had said about the importance of Names, I very carefully asked her, "Sparkle, may I know what these two are called?"


    Sparkle glanced at them and they both nodded, then she looked up at me and proudly announced, "This is Spice," she gestured to the red one, "and that''s Shine," she gestured to the silver one.


    "Thank you." I smiled at them. "Spice, Shine, thank you both very much for your help today. Shine, I''m sorry you were hurt trying to protect me."


    Spice daringly stepped forward to stand beside Sparkle and curtsied to me. "It is our honor to aid you, Guardian!" Her voice was a bit lower and huskier than Sparkle''s. "I speak for Shine as well."


    Shine touched her throat, then spread her hands. Evidently, she couldn''t speak. I nodded acknowledgment.


    "You came to our aid in turn," Spice continued, "nothing is owed." She hesitated a moment, then added, "If I may ask, Guardian¡­you called us your fairies when you came to our aid. Did you mean it?"


    I blinked in surprise and thought back. I hadn''t realized what I''d said at the time, but I had indeed used those words.


    Before I could say anything, Sparkle caught my eye by moving a bit and nodding just a little, an eager expression on her face.


    I certainly didn''t want to claim ownership of them¡­that wasn''t right. But then I remembered what Sparkle had said about fairies being called to service by a Sidhe lord. Did I have enough status as Guardian of the Hall to do that too? It seemed absurd somehow.


    And yet, all of the fairies - standing in a ring that started on either side of me and went around Sparkle, Spice and Shine, I realized, as well as those hovering in the air around us - were watching and waiting with hopeful expressions.


    I thought frantically. Otherworld was clearly not a terrifically safe place, even for its own denizens. Sparkle had told me as much without me realizing it when she''d talked about how much she preferred living with me in the Hall to being out here with her kin. I had grown very fond of the fairies who gathered in my clearing¡­I hated the idea of them being hurt out there in the woods beyond where I''d ever know or be able to help them.


    This felt like a big responsibility. But at the same time, it felt like the right thing to do.


    "Am I correct in believing," I asked carefully, "that you would all like to live here in my clearing?"


    The mass of fairies all nodding eagerly together made a sound like sighing wind. Sparkle''s expression was both eager and agitated. I suspected she wanted to offer me advice, but felt restrained from doing so.


    This was, I suddenly realized, a big moment for me. Otherworld''s opinion of me would probably begin to form right here, right now, depending on what I did and how I did it.


    I took a deep breath. "If my fairies you wish to be, then my fairies you shall be," I said, a bit surprised to hear myself using such poetic phrasing. But again, it felt right. "Guard this entrance to Oakwood Hall for me, warn me of danger and help protect my clearing, and you may live here, under my protection and the protection of Oakwood Hall."


    Another susurration of sound - full of anticipation and eagerness - rippled through the fairies.


    Sparkle looked like she was going to explode with pride and glee.


    Spice stepped up again. "And the Bubbly Sweet-waters? They will only be for the Fairies of the Hall?"


    The ''bubbly sweet-waters''? Oh, that was precious. I kept my expression serious through sheer willpower. "Yes, they will be."


    Happy chatter burst around me, quickly cut off by a gesture from Spice. She held out a hand to Shine, who took it and rose. Together they walked to stand in front of me where I knelt in the grass and looked up at me gravely. "In exchange for your protection and the right to make our homes here in the Clearing of the Hall, and access to the Bubbly Sweet-waters, we will be the Fairies of the Hall and will guard this entrance. Are we in agreement?"


    Spice and Shine held out their clasped hands to me. Behind them, Sparkle nodded a little, trying very hard to reign in her obvious excitement.


    I laid the tip of my right index finger on Spice and Shine''s conjoined hands. "So mote it be," I said. Then wondered where I''d gotten that expression from.


    A tiny fairy cheer went up around us, and there was much zooming of colored lights and happy chatter.


    I held up my free hand, and silence fell. "Spice and Shine will be the captains of the Fairies of the Hall, and Sparkle will be your general. Sparkle will be with me at all times¡­if something out here must be brought to my attention, Spice and Shine may enter the Hall to find us and tell us. Anything you learn that you think I should know, they can report to Sparkle. If there are other fairies who wish to join the clan of the Hall, they must be approved of first by Spice and Shine, and then by Sparkle."


    All three fairies glowed with important pride, and - again, I was quite certain it actually happened - appeared to grow slightly. Another cheer went up from the gathered fairies around us, and I removed my fingertip from Spice and Shine''s hands. They beamed up at me as Sparkle fluttered up to my shoulder and whispered in my ear, "That was perfectly done. I''m so proud of you!"

 Chapter 37

    The party atmosphere in the clearing was so infectious that I ended up staying out with my new fairy guard until after lunch. The fairies were thrilled to have my company for an extended period now that they were mine (which felt profoundly strange to think), and vied to be close to me until Sparkle, Spice and Shine took the situation in hand and got the ball rolling on building their new settlement. I gave up trying to count them after just a few minutes¡­with all of the comings and goings, it was simply impossible.


    I was surprised by the maturity with which Sparkle approached the situation. She was very careful to maintain her post on my shoulder for most of the morning, making it clear that she was In Charge¡­but at the same time, was equally careful not to step on Spice and Shine''s toes as they organized the fairies and oversaw what passed for industry. When I quietly asked Sparkle about it, she murmured in my ear that she wasn''t going to be there any more than I was, and Spice and Shine had to have the authority and respect they needed to lead in her stead.


    I couldn''t help but agree. But it was still a little weird to see my darling little fairy being such a mature leader. It was something of a wake-up call¡­for all her apparent innocence, naivet¨¦, and short attention span, Sparkle was significantly older and more experienced than I was.


    I also quickly discovered that my connection to the Fairies of the Hall was nothing like my connection to Sparkle, and in that difference came to understand just how profoundly she was mine. I could sense the other fairies distantly if I concentrated on doing so, but without any particular clarity¡­except for Spice and Shine, from whom I got brief impressions of happiness and satisfaction.


    From Sparkle¡­for the first time I realized that much of my seemingly instinctive understanding of her moods and feelings was because I was literally sensing them somehow. It must have been some magic in the ring I inherited from my mother, which I resolved to ask Ken about when the opportunity presented itself. In the meantime, I loved Sparkle so much that I couldn''t find it in myself to be in any way worried about the ability.


    Though I did wonder if it went both ways¡­certain events in the recent past suggested that it must. Which, I supposed, was as it should be.


    Ken was kind enough to bring both breakfast and lunch to my room so I could eat outside, and at my request brought a plate of large cookies for the fairies at lunchtime. Sparkle, of course, got her own cookie. Spice and Shine shared one. The rest of the cookies were shared among the rest of the fairies. The pecking order I had set was clearly going to be rigidly adhered to.


    By the time I finally went back inside - after showing Spice and Shine how to open one of the smaller windows so they could get in if they needed to - an actual fairy ring had sprung up around the perimeter of the clearing, made up of every type of mushroom I''d ever seen, many that I hadn''t, and a few that I was pretty sure had never grown on Earth at all. It wasn''t right up against the edge of the woods, but was instead about a meter in, like a second defensive perimeter.


    As I climbed back inside and closed the window, Ken smiled at me. "Not the way I expected to start the day, but it was worth doing, and done well." He nodded to the industry outside¡­tiny houses made of mushrooms, short lengths of fallen tree trunks, and more, were already beginning to spring up not far from the window and off to one side. "It doesn''t look like much, but that fairy ring they raised will add another layer of protection to the clearing. I feel a lot better about you going outside there now."


    "Really?" I asked as I sat down on the window bench and toweled some grass and dirt off my feet.


    Sparkle flew over to and flopped onto the bed. "Oh yeah," she said. "Fairies are great at raising strong defenses. Nothing will get into the clearing now unless they let it."


    "Or unless it''s too powerful for them to stop," Ken clarified. "Mind you, that would take some doing¡­I count no less than thirty fairies out there right now. Working together, they can probably keep out some pretty nasty customers. That ogre, for example, wouldn''t have been able to get past that fairy ring."


    "Huh." I tossed him the towel, and he did something with it that made it vanish. Or maybe one of the Brownies had zipped through to collect it. "Speaking of which," I said, "that ogre¡­"


    Ken grimaced. "Yes¡­from what I recall, and there are some holes in my memories, the deal your grandmother made for that clearing to be safe for your mother was, and I quote, ''None may enter the clearing if they mean harm to any blood of the Hall.''" He frowned a little. "I don''t remember who the deal was made with, but I know it was someone high up in the Seelie Court hierarchy."


    "So we''re dealing with literal wording," I said. "The ogre was trying to harm the fairies at first, and didn''t even know I was there, so it couldn''t mean to harm me."


    "And thus was able to enter the clearing," Ken nodded. "Exactly."


    "Of course, once it was there, it was¡­what, not held to the letter of the agreement?" I asked.


    Ken sighed. "Deals made with the Sidhe - Seelie or Unseelie - are dangerous, even if they seem simple. The ogre had already entered the clearing - "


    "So was exempt from the exact wording of the agreement," I said, sighing. "I''m going to hate dealing with the Sidhe, aren''t I."


    "Yup," Sparkle said, folding her arms behind her head and relaxing in the thick quilt.


    Ken smiled lopsidedly. "If it''s any consolation, I''m sure this gap in the clearing''s basic defense wasn''t meant maliciously by the Sidhe. Loopholes in deals are practically a way of life with them."


    "Speaking of which," I said, "I really need to ask about the soda." I smiled. "The ''bubbly-sweetwater.''"


    Ken chuckled. "What about it?"


    I turned a little and glanced over my shoulder at the busy fairies outside. "Before, they were taking it without any kind of exchange, without knowing who was putting it out there. Wouldn''t that have put them in debt to some stranger?"


    Ken chuckled again. "Yes, it would have. But fairies can be very impulsive and short-sighted - "


    "Hey!" Sparkle interrupted, sitting up and glaring at him. "We''re not stupid!"


    Ken smiled at her. "I didn''t say you were. But fairies - and please take no offense, dear Sparkle - are very much like gamblers. In this instance, they took the soda partly because it was a tradition they remembered from a long time ago, and partly in the hopes that whoever left it either wouldn''t notice or wouldn''t bother calling in a debt from such tiny creatures. Or, perhaps, that whatever was asked of them in return wouldn''t be too onerous. They were, after all, dancing in the field for you most evenings. In their minds, that was probably an equal exchange."


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    I considered that in silence for a moment. "That¡­still seems a bit naive¡­" I said it carefully, but still earned myself a small frown from Sparkle. She didn''t argue though, and after a moment she sighed and nodded a little.


    "It pays off more than you might think," Ken said. "I''d say it worked out pretty well for them this time, wouldn''t you?"`


    "Yeah!" Sparkle said happily.


    "I can''t argue with that," I agreed.


    Ken folded his arms and stared out the window for a minute, before turning back to me. "Consider this a lesson about dealing with the Fey Folk in general, from simple field fairies all the way up to the kings and queens of the Sidhe - "


    Sparkle coughed pointedly.


    "Not simple intellectually, Sparkle," he said gently, "just by comparison."


    "Oh," she said, then flopped back on the quilt again. "That''s all right, then. Continue!"


    Ken and I shared an amused look before he began again. "This is a good reminder for all of us that the Fey don''t always get their way¡­they can be tricked and trapped just as well as mortals can. Though it often takes quite a bit more planning and forethought. But take it to heart: the Sidhe especially will often take risks if they think the payoff is worth it. And the higher up the food chain you go, the better they are at playing the game and the higher the stakes tend to be.


    "It''s also worth remembering," Ken added after a moment''s consideration, "that these rules of equivalent exchange and debt really only apply to the residents of Faerie. Every realm in Otherworld has its own own rules¡­some are nearly identical to the mortal world, like Barsoom, and some are even stranger than Faerie, like Wonderland. Not that you''ll be doing any traveling anytime soon."


    I nodded slowly. "All right¡­setting that aside for now, can I add more defenses to the clearing?"


    Ken looked thoughtful. "You know, you could. I could teach you to build wardstones, and you could raise some substantial protections. It''d be a good lesson, and good experience for you¡­I think with your memory and analytical mind, you should take to wards like a fish to water."


    I smiled. "All right, then. Put it on the To Do list." I made a little twirling gesture with one finger, and Ken quickly turned away from me, giving me at least the appearance of privacy as I started to undress. "What''s on the agenda for this afternoon, once I''ve showered?"


    "I think," Ken said slowly, "you and I should have a conversation about your unwillingness to kill that ogre. And then get in some fencing practice."


    "Oh," I said, and headed toward the bathroom, "joy."


    Thankfully, he left me alone while I showered, which gave me time to consider the subject myself before tackling it with him. Why had I been so reluctant to simply blast the obviously monstrous creature. It had been attacking my fairies, and had been eyeing me like a particularly tender side of beef. Ken had said that ogres considered humans food, and from the way he said it - and the ogre''s reactions - I suspected the word ''food'' could be swapped for ''delicacy'' without trouble.


    It had been my first monster¡­and I''d let it get away. Why?


    I frowned up at the shower head and wasn''t at all surprised to see Sparkle lounging on it, her chin propped in her hands as she watched me. She just smiled and remained quiet, perhaps sensing my desire for time to think.


    The momentary distraction passed, and I set about washing my hair and resumed pondering the question.


    As I emerged from the bathroom a little while later, belting my robe, my hair bundled up in a towel, I looked at Ken. "I really don''t know why I was so reluctant to kill it. It was an intruder, it was hurting my fairies, and it clearly wanted to straight-up eat me. I was acting in self-defense, and it was most assuredly a monster."


    Ken smiled faintly. "I can''t fault your logic. Would you like me to dry your hair?"


    "Please," I said gratefully, settling onto the writing desk''s chair. That was one chore I didn''t miss.


    "And may I offer my thoughts on the subject?" He asked as he unwound the towel from around my hair.


    "Yes, please," I said.


    "It''s honestly not that hard to understand," he said as he began to leech the water out of my hair with gentle strokes. "You''re reluctant to commit to acts of violence at all¡­it''s simply not natural to you. So it doesn''t surprise me that you''re just as reluctant to commit the ultimate act of violence."


    He sighed a little. "I think that sooner or later you''ll be forced to kill. Unfortunately, it comes with the territory. Based on my memories of previous Guardians, I can honestly say that killing changed each of them in subtle ways. I sincerely hope that it never becomes second nature to you¡­but you will be pushed to it eventually."


    My turn to sigh. "That doesn''t give me a lot of hope for the future."


    "Don''t look at it that way," Ken said gently. "Knowing you as well as I do now, I can honestly say that when you do finally kill something, it will be because you were pushed to it, and not because you want to. That makes all the difference in the world. And whether it happens tomorrow, or ten years from now, Sparkle and I will be here to help you deal with it."


    "You betcha!" Sparkle chimed in from where she''d settled on the bed again.


    "Have any of my ancestors ever¡­really become killers?" I asked with a frisson of unease.


    "Two of them, actually," Ken said quietly. "One fought in a war between the Sidhe courts, taking on both sides on behalf of the Wildfae caught between, and brought peace back to the courts¡­but only after a great deal of violence and death. Another ventured to London to help Ariana Pendragon end the¡­the career and life of Jack the Ripper, then indulged in a bit of harsh vigilante justice on her own for a while before returning home and settling down."


    Lots of people went to fight in wars when they felt it was their duty to do so. That wasn''t too unsettling. And while vigilantism sounded a bit shady, I knew the history of Jack the Ripper well and couldn''t disagree that he, she or they (depending on your preferred theory about Jack''s identity) had needed to be stopped. And so too - probably - had whatever other criminals she''d ended.


    "Does that mean you know who Jack the Ripper was?" Honestly, the question just popped out of my mouth. Any history buff would''ve asked the same question.


    I heard Ken huff an amused sound. "I may have at one time, but I don''t seem to anymore. Perhaps she made me forget to protect someone''s public identity."


    I sighed. "Darn."


    Ken finished braiding my hair and came around to stand in front of me. "What is it you''re really trying to ask?" he said gently.


    I thought about it for a moment, then smiled faintly. "Are there any of my ancestors who avoided having to kill."


    Ken shook his head. "No. Though for most of them, it was the last resort, and the exception rather than the rule." He crouched a little to be at eye level with me. "As, I think, it will be with you." He rested an insubstantial hand on my left knee. "Don''t worry about it this time. In the end, I don''t think letting that ogre go has done any damage. The Sidhe Courts undoubtedly already know that the Hall is inhabited again, and while they''re pretty stupid, ogres do learn from pain. He won''t be back."


    He patted my knee gently. "Now," he straightened, "get dressed and let''s do some fencing and staff training. Tomorrow, we''ll pick up your magic lessons again."


    I rose and nodded, heading for the closet. "After the last couple of days, I definitely understand better than ever why it''s necessary."


    That evening, when I settled onto the window bench to watch the fairies, their little village was well-established and colorfully lit. Tiny candles and lanterns that appeared to be lit with magic rather than fire were everywhere, and the dancing multi-colored lights of my fairies were everywhere in the field.


    It did not escape my notice that there were a number of lights out at the new fairy ring that circled the clearing, moving slowly around its circumference. My field had a tiny guard, and they were taking their duties seriously.


    Feeling quite safe now, and certain that my presence would no longer disturb the nightly festivities, I opened the glass door I usually went out through and sat in it with my feet brushing the grass. Sparkle sat on my lap and, to my surprise, was quickly joined by Spice and Shine, who sat cuddled together quite adorably. After a few minutes, I felt across my shoulders the faint, tingly sensation I associated with Ken''s touch. Turning my head a little, I saw him leaning against the window frame. He had an arm around my shoulders, and was smiling as he watched the fairies with me.


    None of us said anything. What was there to say? We just shared the moment of happy tranquility.


    For all the talk of having to fight and kill monsters, I hoped that my duties as Guardian, beyond protecting the Hall, would end this way - peacefully, not with me owning more fairies - more often than not. Watching the fairies finishing their little houses, dancing in the field¡­and yes, even patrolling their new border¡­gave me a sense of contentment I''d never felt before. I had made their lives better, and their presence enriched mine in return.


    It really was a lovely way to end the day.

 Chapter 38

    The next few weeks were split almost evenly between exercise, magic lessons, and helping the fairies get settled in. The first two were educational and developmental, the third was a pure joy.


    Mostly. I had, after all, asked Ken if there was anything I could do to help improve their defenses.


    We began by laying down some basic temporary wards - the runes of which were just cut into the ground with a knife - around the clearing to strengthen the fairies'' protections. These wards wouldn''t last long, and would need to be recharged every couple of weeks, but at the same time Ken was teaching me how to make wardstones so that I could lay down more permanent (and stronger) defenses.


    I found that I enjoyed those lessons because they were constructive instead of destructive¡­but the ogre''s attack had at last convinced me of the importance of learning offensive magic. Having finally admitted that to myself, and having mostly accepted it - and that I couldn''t afford to bury my head in the sand like that again - Ken in turn accepted that perhaps starting with a force as brutally destructive as lightning might not have been the best choice.


    To that end, we turned our attention instead to two other types of magic that Ken thought I might have a strong affinity for: water, and force.


    Indeed, I''d already demonstrated my potential for both through my nearly effortless construction of a spell to fill the fairy baths.


    After watching the fairies play in them for hours at a time, I just couldn''t think of them as ''bird'' baths anymore¡­in point of fact, I couldn''t think of a single bird I''d even seen outside my bedroom windows. I''d heard some, but none had been familiar sounds, and none had ever shown themselves.


    Perhaps they weren''t birds at all, for that matter. There was a disturbing thought. I made a note to ask my fairies about it at some point, once they were completely settled in and comfortable.


    Anyway, water and force spells both turned out to be nearly effortless for me. Whether I was conjuring water - Ken swore I''d eventually gain a better understand of how that particular violation of science worked - or gathering it from the air around me, I was able to call it up, manipulate it, and shape it with what was - to me at least - incredible facility.


    Force spells, which to my mind were just a less-precise name for a form of telekinesis, turned out to be just as simple for me and were mostly an exercise in gathering energy and imagining it either forming invisible shapes ("You can make it visible," Ken said, "but why waste the energy?") or providing propulsion for something. A couple of boys from the orphanage - you know the type, wanna-be punks with bad attitudes who liked to slouch around and engage in other horrible clich¨¦s because they thought it made them cool - would have given their eye-teeth to learn how to magically propel rocks the way I did.


    Ice was only a short step from water¡­all it took was shaping the water with force magic, and simply changing its state from liquid to solid. I use the word ''simply'', and on one level it was, because it was surprisingly easy for me to do¡­but on another level, it was really anything but. Once again I was violating the laws of physics, because a volume of magically-created or gathered water produced a nearly equal volume of ice. Ken assured me that the missing volume was the ''cost'' of the spell¡­that somehow, the missing volume of water was translating into part of the energy cost of changing the water''s temperature enough to freeze it.


    Which completely failed to make any sense at all, because the ice should have had a greater volume than the water, not less, even by a small amount. That conversation had literally ended with me throwing my hands in the air and stomping out of the room in frustration, trailed by a giggling Sparkle.


    Not long after that, I learned the hard way that while ice or water-based shields are effective at stopping - or at least deflecting - many types of projectiles, they not only took longer to create but were quite a lot more energy-intensive to maintain than force-based ones.


    I accepted the bruises I''d earned in the attempt, and stopped trying to be fancy.


    Lightning was, of course, still included in my lessons since Ken insisted that I not skimp on learning better control of it. I was uncomfortable with my apparent affinity for the destructive force¡­and yet, after confronting the troll, I saw that there were going to be times where maximum force would be needed. Learning to control said maximum force was obviously of great importance¡­and it did, I quickly saw, have an impact on the precision and accuracy of my spellcasting in general.


    Somewhere in all of that bustle, high-speed Internet came to Oakwood Hall. I received a call from Margrave one day informing me that he''d finally made arrangements for a broadband cable connection and the necessary modem and wireless networking gear, payments to be handled by his office, and I shouldn''t worry about anything except the interior setup. The same day the packages were delivered at the front gate, a cable plug with a power outlet beside it appeared in my study, easily accessible in a gap between one of the bookcases and a sideboard which had just enough room for the modem and router on it.


    I didn''t question it. I just hooked it up and finally got my new laptop set up and updated. I also didn''t question the fact that I got perfect WiFi reception no matter where I set up my laptop in the Hall. Evidently, the Hall approved of the connection to the outside world.


    I briefly entertained the notion that the Hall itself was somehow tapping into the Internet connection, then shoved the idea from my mind as the potential implications horrified me.


    I relaxed by spending a couple of hours almost every evening in the clearing outside my bedroom, enjoying the company of my very own clan of fairies. They took being ''mine'' very seriously, and followed the small chain of command to the letter. Any problems they had were brought to Spice and Silver, who either dealt with them or brought them to Sparkle. If Sparkle couldn''t settle the problem, she brought it to me. At least, in theory¡­so far, nary a problem had even made it to Sparkle''s ear, save a few requests for novelty building supplies, which I happily ordered from a variety of crafting sites.


    And, of course, I went down to the Oak & Ivy Pub just about every Thursday night to play a few rounds of darts and get to know my new neighbors better.


    On the whole, I was enjoying myself, and was able to just about put the potential for danger out of my mind.


    Which was, in retrospect, foolish.


    With winter reluctantly releasing its hold on southwest England, the weather started to warm up and I began jogging into town in the mornings again. Not every day, mind you¡­but weather permitting, I preferred it to jogging indoors, and it was shaping up to be a beautiful spring. I would start out just before dawn, do a couple of turns through town, then head for home, a shower, and breakfast.


    That morning, in the second week of April, the only thing on my mind was the question of whether or not either Malcolm or Judy O''Day would spot me out and about and insist I come in for a light breakfast, which I certainly wouldn''t refuse. Not only was their pub becoming something of a second home for me, I wouldn''t dream of missing one of Mrs. O''Day''s home-cooked meals if the opportunity presented.


    Instead of riding on the Master Key, Sparkle flitted along beside me as we started out from the Hall. She had once tried riding on my shoulder while I jogged, but had quickly abandoned the idea.


    As I jogged, she yawned and stretched¡­quite a feat while fluttering along mid-air. "Why''d we get up so early?" She complained sleepily. "We could''ve slept another couple of hours easy."


    I chuckled softly. "I know, Sparkle, but I like this time of day. It''s peaceful, and dawn always feels like a time of renewal and untapped potential to me."


    She considered that in silence for several of my steps. "Wow," she said in an awed tone, "that''s a really beautiful idea."


    I glanced over at her to see her watching me with something like awe. I laughed softly, then concentrated on controlling my breathing. "I got the idea from a Wiccan I met in my first year at Cambridge. It stuck with me."


    "I can see why!" Sparkle beamed. "And I guess I can see why you''d want to exercise at dawn."


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    "Actually, that''s just because I was usually up this early anyway, and it was before the library opened," I admitted.


    Sparkle giggled. "You''re a¡­what was the word Ken used? A¡­workaholic?"


    I huffed another small laugh. "Guilty as charged, I''m afraid. I just don''t take well to being idle, I guess. I like to be busy."


    "I guess I understand that," Sparkle said, sounding thoughtful. Then, as we approached Oakwood, she shrank down and attached herself to the Master Key. It was early enough that there probably wouldn''t be anybody out to see her, but it was safer that way.


    The road dipped slightly as it entered town, forcing me to break my stride and jump over a couple of puddles left behind by last night''s rain. As my foot hit the pavement after the last puddle, and as I passed beneath a streetlight that would be shutting off before much longer, I thought I caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eyes. It was enough to make me stop and look to my right.


    It was still pretty dark, with just a hint of sunrise on the horizon, and the town was full of shadows. I smiled ruefully at how jumpy I was becoming and gave my head a little shake. "I think Ken''s paranoia is rubbing off on me," I murmured. I mean, I''d been passing under a streetlight. Of course shadows had moved.


    "Why?" Sparkle''s voice whispered in my ear, as if she were perched on my shoulder instead of motionless on the Master Key.


    I huffed a little laugh and turned to start up my run again. "I''m seeing things."


    A soft growl rumbled out of the shadows off to our left.


    "Maybe not," Sparkle murmured.


    I turned to my left.


    In the deep shadows that filled a narrow alley between two buildings, a pair of glowing red eyes watched me. They were about two feet off the ground, and moved back and forth ever so slightly.


    "Sparkle?" I asked, nervous fear settling like a heavy weight in the pit of my stomach.


    "Dunno," she replied.


    I gathered a bit of magical energy and flicked my fingers at the alley, a tiny ball of light about as bright as a 60 watt bulb darting away from my hand to light up the darkness.


    There was nothing there. I blew out a breath I hadn''t realized I''d been holding and relaxed a little. "Okay, that was just weird."


    "I guess it was nothing," Sparkle said uncertainly. She sounded as unconvinced as I felt.


    I waited about a minute, and when nothing moved in the narrow alley I extinguished the light.


    The eyes didn''t reappear.


    After another minute - and with the clear sky above us beginning to shift from a pre-dawn stars to a deep, velvety blue with lighter shades on the horizon - I gave my head another shake, turned, and started jogging again.


    I hadn''t made it a dozen steps before there was another growl - from my right this time - and I saw a flicker of motion out of the corners of my eyes. There was a quick flash of red eyes before something slammed into my right arm and hip, moving fast enough and hard enough to send me sprawling onto the sidewalk with a cry of surprise and pain.


    It didn''t matter that I''d been learning how to fall. Cement hurts.


    Remembering Ken''s lessons - never stay down, he''d said - I quickly rolled backwards and up onto my feet as a shadowy mass landed where I''d fallen. It was still too dark for me to see it clearly, but I got a distinct impression of a large and powerful canine form behind those glowing red eyes. Before it vanished into deeper shadows, I definitely saw a bushy tail lashing behind it.


    Then it was gone.


    I had unconsciously fallen into a defensive stance, one leg back, arms up in front of me ready to block a blow¡­but no blow came. Sparkle had detached from the Master Key and was now in the air nearby, darting around in search of my assailant.


    "Did you get a look at it?" I asked hopefully.


    "No!" Sparkle sounded frustrated. "It was like it was made of shadows."


    That didn¡¯t sound very reassuring. All signs pointed to something supernatural and hostile.


    I wasn''t keen on throwing lightning around in Oakwood - it just wasn''t at all subtle - so I magically gathered a fist-sized ball of water above my right hand. There was so much moisture in the air (and on the ground) after the rain that doing so was almost effortless.


    I looked around slowly. "Anything?"


    Sparkle was orbiting me at a distance of about five feet. She made a frustrated noise. "Nothing."


    I briefly considered asking her to light up the area, but we were in town¡­the last thing I needed if something that might have big teeth and sharp claws was about to attack me were a bunch of innocents stumbling into the mix with the best of intentions. The sun would be up before too many more minutes went by¡­I just had to hold out until then to get a good look at whatever this was.


    There was a blur of movement off to my left, and I lashed out in that direction with my will and magic. The ball of water I''d summoned seemed to burst and freeze at the same time, as a dozen slivers of needle-sharp ice shot away from it with a soft hissing sound.


    Even as they did, I saw the mystery creature lunge towards me from the deeper shadows beside a building. I''d been close enough to my target that simply sweeping my hand a bit to the left brought the rapid-fire burst of ice needles in line with it.


    They passed through the creature as if it had no mass at all - I had no doubt about that, I could hear the repeated clicking sound as they broke on the brick building behind it - and its forepaws struck me in the chest. I was knocked off my feet with a cry of surprise - but no pain, yet - before crashing into the street on my back.


    That part hurt.


    But the creature was gone again even before I started to roll away. I pushed myself up to my knees and then to my feet, looking around uncertainly.


    Sparkle was by my head in an instant. "Did you hit it?"


    "My ice needles passed right through it," I said quietly.


    "Try force?" Sparkle suggested.


    "Maybe¡­" I thought about it as I did a slow turn to examine the street. It was getting lighter, but that just seemed to make the shadows deeper.


    A growl from behind us caused both Sparkle and I to spin around, but there was nothing there.


    A heavy weight slammed into my back and drove me to the ground. I heared Sparkle shout something, and felt her magic spread out beneath me, keeping me from crashing face-first to the pavement. The weight bore down on my back and something growled in my ear, a low, angry sound that trailed off¡­followed by the sound (and feeling, which made me shudder) of something sniffing my hair and the back of my neck as little flashes of light flickered overhead.


    Whatever was on my back whined softly. It was a confused, uncertain, frustrated sound.


    An unfamiliar woman''s voice shouted, "Oi! Get off her!" A moment later, whatever was on my back yelped in a mixture of pain and surprise. Then it was gone, and I lifted my head in time to see the shadowy canine shape vanish into the deep shadows of the building ahead of me.


    Vanish into the shadows¡­


    Literally. Poof, gone.


    "It''s using the shadows to move from one place to another," I said, pushing myself to my knees. "That''s how it keeps blindsiding me." But why hadn''t it hurt me, or even killed me, I wondered with a shiver of fear. It had certainly had plenty of opportunities.


    "Are you all right?" The unfamiliar woman''s voice asked, closer this time. "And what the bloody hell was that?"


    I looked around to see a woman bearing down on me. It was just light enough now to see that she had dark auburn hair in some sort of pixie cut, but was still too dark to tell what color her eyes were. Their color didn''t matter at the moment though, just that they were intense and watchful, looking around more than looking at me. She had a collapsible metal baton in her right hand, and her dark blue jumper had "POLICE" in large white letters on the left breast, beneath the seal of the Avon and Somerset police force.


    I couldn''t decide if I should feel relieved or worried that she had stepped in to help me.


    "Are you all right?" She asked again, looking at me directly now from just a few feet away.


    "Yes¡­yes, thank you¡­" I glanced at the rank markers on her shoulders, "¡­Constable." I pushed myself to my feet and gave myself a shake, glancing around. Sparkle was nowhere to be seen, but I could feel her presence close by.


    "Burroughs," she said. "Constable Burroughs. What was that on you? Some kind of dog?"


    "I''m honestly not sure," I admitted. "Thanks for the help. I''m Caley Reid."


    She grunted. "Guessed that from your appearance, Miss Reid. I''ve only been in town a week and already heard people singing your praises. Didn''t think I hit it that hard," she said, switching topics smoothly. "Just meant to give it a light tap on the back to startle it, but it yelped and took off like I''d struck it a good one." She glanced at me again. "And what''d you mean when you said it was using the shadows to move around?"


    I winced. Well, it was probably too late to play this off as some random wild animal attack. Assuming there were any wild canines in the area to make the story believable anyway.


    "Caley!" Sparkle shouted. "Behind you!"


    She shot between myself and Constable Burroughs leaving a streak of purple light in her wake as tiny sparks of purple-white light shot out ahead of her. Well, she had said she was far from helpless¡­


    I swung around, calling up the energy for a shield as I did, and caught a glimpse of Constable Burroughs standing with her mouth open and a gobsmacked expression on her face. "What the hell?" she asked faintly.


    It was definitely too late to play this off as anything mundane.


    The little pinpoints of light that Sparkle was throwing vanished into impossibly deep shadows between two buildings and we heard that canine yelp of pain again. The shadows seemed to grow insubstantial, then faded into normal pre-dawn gloom.


    Whatever this thing was, it didn''t seem to like the light.


    Didn''t like the light¡­


    "Sparkle," I called as she wheeled back towards me, "light us up!"


    "Okay!" She called back happily, veering upwards until she was hovering above my head. An instant later, her gentle purple radiance washed out over us, filling the street and pushing the shadows back away from us. As when she was acting as my night light, something about the light she shed not only cast no shadows, it actively prevented shadows from forming.


    "There," Burroughs said, pointing with her baton, "to your left."


    I turned¡­and saw a fox-like creature crouched between two shops where only a moment earlier there had been deep shadows. It wasn''t as big as it had appeared when wrapped in shadows, and was only about as large as a bobcat instead of the nearly twice that I''d originally guessed. Its fur was a black so deep and perfect that even beneath Sparkle''s light it was hard to see, but faded to dark gray beneath its chin and to some still-indistinct dark color that wasn''t black at the tips of its ears and paws.


    It had two bushy tails that lashed behind it, and its glowing red eyes flickered left and right in agitation. Of course it was agitated, I thought¡­Sparkle had just stripped it of its shadows.


    Its eyes fixed on me and it whined, crouching and tensing.


    "That," Constable Burroughs said, "is not a normal fox."

 Chapter 39

    "No," I agreed, "that''s definitely not a normal fox."


    Constable Burroughs gave her collapsible metal baton a couple of quick swishes, and the creature flinched back, even though it was at least fifteen feet away.


    "Sparkle, do you know what that is?" I asked.


    From above my head - Burroughs twitched but didn''t look away from our assailant - Sparkle replied, "I think it''s a dusk fox."


    "Okay¡­what can you tell us about it?" I said, feeling a surge of hope.


    "Not much," Sparkle said unhappily. "I don''t know a lot about them. They were super rare even before I was born, and I''ve never actually seen one, so I never learned much about them. It''s pretty."


    The fox-creature was rather pretty, in a dangerous, wild animal sort of way. Sadly, I wasn''t in a position to admire it at the moment.


    "Did you know," Burroughs said conversationally, "that you have a talking fairy hovering above your head?"


    "You haven''t gone mad," I said in what I hoped was a calm tone.


    "That isn''t very reassuring," Burroughs said flatly.


    Sparkle giggled.


    The dusk fox''s eyes were flicking from one of us to another, but always came back to me. It backed up a step uncertainly, then whined and took two slow steps forward and bared its teeth. Then it whined again and crouched lower, but not in a way that suggested it was about to spring at us.


    Not that I''m any kind of animal expert, but I would''ve sworn that the creature was displaying confusion and uncertainty.


    I really, really wished Ken could leave the Hall.


    In one swift, smooth motion, the dusk fox shifted its crouch, reoriented itself on Constable Burroughs, then launched at her. I released the shield spell I''d been holding ready and a translucent plane of blue force appeared between her and the fox creature, which twisted in mid-air so that it deflected off my shield to one side instead of slamming straight into it.


    At the same time, Constable Burroughs side-stepped away from me to get out of the path of the fox''s leap. The move put her in position to fetch the fox a sharp smack on the shoulder with her baton as it landed.


    They would have ended up almost face-to-face if the fox hadn''t yipped in pain and shot away toward the nearest gap between buildings again, presumably toward the safety of shadows that had been pushed far back down the alley by Sparkle''s illumination. It did an almost comical twist/flip move as it realized there was no quick escape that way and doubled back, bolting across the street.


    I had just enough time to see a still lightly smoking scorch mark on its shoulder where the constable''s baton had struck it. Then it was past us. It had, I noticed for the first time, a collar of some sort around its neck.


    The sun crested the horizon¡­or rather, came up over the low hills that made up the horizon for us¡­its light flowing down the center of the street like a glowing river. The brilliant morning sun seemed to wash away the enchantment of Sparkle''s light, and shadows returned in its wake¡­one moment missing, the next there, as if they''d never been gone.


    In direct sunlight, I could see that the tips of the fox''s ears, tails, and paws were a rich midnight blue. It made a sharp turn and vanished into the shadow cast by a postbox. It didn''t just move into the shadows there¡­as it entered the shadows, it literally vanished, as if diving into a pool of water, only without the ripples.


    It reappeared in the shadows between two buildings down the street to my right, building up speed for another charge. Now that I could see it more clearly, aiming my spell was a lot easier, and I riddled its side and shoulder with needle-sharp slivers of ice. It let out a pained sound and skidded to a halt in the mouth of the alley, staring at us.


    It was, it seemed, reluctant to come out into the sunlight¡­so I gathered energy again and cast another spell.


    A ball of brilliant white light popped into existence above the fox''s head. It wasn''t as pure as sunlight - I was still having some trouble producing that - but it was bright, and the dusk fox responded by crouching down and whining as it glanced around for someplace to retreat.


    My light had made new shadows¡­but as it was directly above the fox, none of the shadows were within easy reach for it. But it also didn''t seem to be hurt by the light. Maybe it was only natural light? Or maybe shadows gave it strength?


    Questions for another time. Its tails lashed agitatedly behind it, and it started pawing at its collar.


    "I can call animal control¡­" Constable Burroughs said uncertainly, apparently ignoring the spells I''d cast in favor of dealing with the more immediate problem.


    The dusk fox was still pawing at its collar, alternating between whines and growls. Its eyes came up and met mine, and even through the now-dimmed red glow, I thought I saw something that wasn''t either anger or hostility. It wasn''t afraid, it wasn''t angry¡­it was frustrated.


    "Let me try something," I said quietly, and started walking slowly towards the fox.


    I heard Burroughs make a sound that put me in mind of a transmission slipping gears, but I heard her footsteps following mine.


    "Caley," Sparkle said from above me, "what''re you doing?"


    "Testing a theory," I said calmly. I stopped directly in front of the fox, with a good twenty feet separating us. It was still pawing at its collar, pushing the unattractive leather thing as far up its neck as the collar would go again and again.


    Trying to get it off?


    "Hold still," I said quietly, and the fox whined unhappily. It looked up at me and growled, its body tensing to leap, then shivering and swaying before tensing again. This cycle repeated several times as I watched, pausing only when the fox pawed at its collar before resuming.


    "It''s like it''s fighting itself," Burroughs said from beside me.


    "Yeah," Sparkle agreed, alighting on my left shoulder.


    "Yeah," I concurred, then spoke to the fox again. "Hold as still as you can. I''m going to try to get that collar off you."


    The fox''s eyes widened in an expression of distinct comprehension, and it froze in place¡­or rather, it froze as much as it could. Its muscles kept tensing to leap, then spasming and trembling as it resisted the urge.


    Ice. Ice might do the trick. "This is going to be very cold," I said in a quiet, soothing voice to the fox. "I''m sorry if it hurts."


    The fox wuffed at me and closed its eyes.


    I gathered energy and cast my spell, watching as frost gathered on the fox''s collar, thickening into a solid layer of ice. The fox shuddered and whined in discomfort.


    I made the ice colder rather than thicker, and colder still. The fox shook its head uncomfortably, but didn''t move otherwise. When I hoped the ice was cold enough, I cast another spell, sliding a thin, small wedge of invisible force between the fox''s neck and the collar.


    Then I snapped the wedge of force sharply upward. With an audible pop, the collar snapped and fell to the fox''s feet, accompanied by the crackling of ice.


    Almost before the ice-coated collar hit the pavement, the fox had turned and bolted down the alley and into the deep shadows there, where it vanished. But not without once last glimpse of its glowing red eyes, fixed unmistakably on me. And not without very clearly, very distinctly saying, "Thank you!" in a female voice rich with relief and happiness.


    Constable Burroughs and I stood there in silence for a moment before she said quietly, "You''re coming back to the station house with me, and we''re going to have a little talk."


    It wasn''t a request. I sighed. "If this isn''t an official chat, how about the Oak & Ivy instead? We can get a bite of breakfast while we''re talking, and there won''t be anybody else there at this hour."


    I turned and saw that she was staring at Sparkle instead of me. "Do they know about¡­?" She nodded at Sparkle.


    "Yes," I said carefully.


    She stared at Sparkle a moment longer, then looked directly at me as she collapsed her baton and slid it into a holster on her belt. "Yeah, all right then. Not like I can possibly make a formal report of this anyway. I just want to know what the hell I walked into this morning."


    I smiled a little. "Believe me, Constable, I get that."


    She ran a hand through her hair and then looked up and sighed. "Forgot my hat again. Well, at least I''m not technically on duty this time."


    It was a short walk to the Oak & Ivy, where Malcolm carefully poked his head out and glanced around when I knocked on the door. "Heard some strange sounds out here, we did," he said quietly, eyeing the constable thoughtfully. "Figured we''d best stay inside."


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    "Very wise," I agreed. "But it''s all over now. Are you open for breakfast?"


    He smiled and opened the door wider, stepping back. "For you? Always, Caley, always. Come in. You too, Constable."


    We settled at a small table by one of the front windows, far enough from the bar to not be overheard if we spoke quietly. I sat down with my back to the door, figuring Constable Burroughs would want to keep an eye on it, and she gave me a polite nod as she sat across from me.


    "I suspect," I said after Malcolm took breakfast orders from us, "that you have a pile of questions, Constable."


    "Call me D.T.," she said, then rubbed her face. "Good lord, do I have questions."


    I tipped my head a little. "D.T.? D.T. Burroughs? Your parents weren''t Edgar Rice Burroughs fans, were they?"


    She grimaced eloquently. "Yes they were, and yes they did."


    Through an act of sheer will - and because I''d had some acquaintances in the past with giggle-worthy names - I managed to keep from showing even the faintest hint of amusement. But I still couldn''t resist asking, "Your name is really - "


    She cut me off with an upheld finger. "When I''m not on duty, you can call me D.T., or you can call me Burroughs. Do not use my complete name. And if you call me Deety, we''re having words."


    I shook my head firmly. "Wouldn''t dream of it. I''ve read both Burroughs and Heinlein, and wouldn''t do that to you." I enunciated the letters carefully, then smiled. "For what it''s worth, I think it''s a pretty name, and a strong one."


    And she was rather pretty to go with it, I thought privately. She had a strong jaw that wouldn''t have looked out of place on a superhero and had an athlete''s build that I appreciated. In better light, I could see that her auburn hair was leaning strongly towards dark red, and her eyes were a rich brown.


    Maybe it was the months of near-total isolation making me hungry for human contact, but I was definitely finding her attractive. I''ve been hit on in the past by both men and women, and found it flattering even once the novelty wore off and it became more of an annoyance than anything else. But I''d never given much thought to relationships either way, and now definitely wasn''t the right time to be starting.


    She cleared her throat, not quite looking at me. "Yes, well¡­thank you."


    "So, D.T.," I said, "ask away."


    She nodded a little, opened her mouth¡­then closed it again. She frowned a little, took a breath and let it out, then opened and closed her mouth again.


    Malcolm returned then and put two cups of tea on the table, along with a large chocolate chip scone on a plate. "Breakfast will be along in a few, ladies. The scone''s for the little one, so she doesn''t try to eat the sugar bowl." He winked.


    Sparkle giggled.


    I smiled up at him. "Thanks, Malcolm."


    He tipped an imaginary hat to me and headed back toward the kitchen again, leaving us alone.


    Sparkle immediately dove off my shoulder and attacked the scone with a happy cry.


    D.T. watched her, wide-eyed, then finally looked at me and asked, "She''s really a fairy? I''m not hallucinating?"


    I very carefully didn''t laugh at the question, remembering when I''d felt the same way myself. I just nodded. "She''s very real, and she is most assuredly a fairy. Her name is Sparkle."


    "Sparkle?"


    My little purple companion was up to her shoulders in the scone, and had to struggle a bit to pull back and look up at us. "Huh?"


    There were crumbs in her hair. I gave her a quick dusting with two fingers. "A little decorum, maybe? We have a new friend here." I said the last bit hopefully¡­not only did I not want the local constable upset with me, I didn''t want her thinking I was completely insane either.


    "Oh, sure!" Sparkle said cheerfully. "Sorry!" Instead of diving back in head-first, she plopped down cross-legged on the plate and started tearing hunks off of the scone, looking up at us as she ate.


    D.T. stared at her for a long moment. "Uh¡­it''s very nice to meet you, Sparkle."


    Sparkle said - or tried to, at least, with a mouth-full of scone - something that sounded like "Likewise!"


    D.T. opened her mouth to say something, closed it again, then shook her head and started spooning sugar into her tea. I did the same, and we sipped our tea in silence for a minute before she asked, "So¡­what was that thing in the street, and why was it attacking you? And were you actually¡­what, throwing ice at it? You made a light out of thin air. And I think you put a shield of some sort between me and it?"


    I smiled a little at the deluge of questions. "In order¡­I honestly don''t know what it was or why it was attacking me. Yes, I was throwing ice at it, I made light, and I put a shield in front of you when it tried to attack you. That was magic."


    "Magic," she said flatly.


    I shrugged. "Sounds insane, right? But magic is real."


    "Show me," she challenged.


    I glanced around quickly¡­the street outside was empty and we were alone in the pub except for Malcolm and Judy O''Day, both of whom were already clued in. Ken had made a few passing references to the ICOA trying to keep magic and the supernatural a secret, but hadn''t gone into any detail yet.


    And¡­honestly, I found myself really wanting to talk to another human being about it, now that the opportunity presented itself.


    So I showed her. I held my right hand out palm up, and silently cast the light spell that had become second nature to me now. I made the light about tennis-ball sized, barely brighter than a 20 watt bulb, and almost completely heat-less, just warm enough to feel different than the surrounding air, expecting her to poke it.


    I was not disappointed. It was the first thing she did after the ball of light formed above my hand. She reached out and stuck her finger into it. Then bent down and looked at the space between it and my hand.


    Obligingly, I took my hand away from the light and then held it out for her inspection.


    She took my hand, ran her fingers over my palm, then turned my hand over, pushed the sleeve of my hoodie up to my elbow and ran her fingers over my bare skin.


    Then she released my hand and stared at the light, which now floated unsupported about a foot above the table-top. She ran a hand around it, then cupped her hands around it so that it lit them up from within. Then she dropped her hands to the table and just stared at it, apparently dumbfounded.


    "It''ll stay there until I stop feeding it energy," I offered helpfully.


    "Is it hard to maintain?" She asked, sounding a little bit faint.


    "It was at first, but now it''s like breathing¡­I barely notice it," I said. "I could crank it up to about 150 lumens before I''d start to feel it, and even then it wouldn''t be much of a strain."


    "Oh my god," she said softly. "I''m looking at real magic, aren''t I."


    It wasn''t a question, so I just nodded. I also thought I detected a hint of Wales in her accent.


    "What else can you do?" She asked excitedly.


    I chuckled. "All kinds of things. But I''d rather not show off too much in public. I guess it''s supposed to be secret."


    "You guess it''s secret?" D.T. asked, then continued without taking a breath, "Is it like magic in fantasy novels? Casting spells to change one thing into another, throw fireballs, that sort of thing. Did you go to some sort of magic school? Can anybody learn, or is it an innate talent?"


    That last question was, I thought, asked rather hopefully.


    "I guess it''s secret because I''m still learning, and my lessons have largely been magical theory and practical application without any history or cultural info. So far, anyway." I smiled and snuffed out the light with a flick of my fingers. "It''s a lot like magic in fantasy novels. I can''t throw fireballs yet, and I''m told I might not be able to as I have a strong affinity for water magic. I didn''t go to a magical school¡­I didn''t even know about magic myself until about six months ago. And I honestly don''t know if it''s something anybody can learn or not. But I''ll ask."


    "Who''s teaching you?" She asked, obviously burning with curiosity now.


    "Would you believe a ghost?" I sipped my tea, very interested to see her response.


    She blinked a couple of times, then shrugged. "Sure, why not? I believe in the paranormal. Been watching ghost hunting shows on the telly since I was a kid. Anyway, I just saw you casting spells at some sort of definitely-not-natural fox creature out in the street, and I''m sitting at a table with a fairy. Ghosts aren''t much of a stretch at this point."


    "Touch¨¦," I nodded. "This is not at all how I expected this to go¡­you''re taking this awfully well."


    She shrugged again. "I saw some strange shite when I was a kid. Monster in the closet. My da'' taught me a Welsh phrase to drive it away. Real tongue-twister. And I clearly remember seeing what I was sure were fairies in the back garden at dusk during the summer."


    "Could''ve been a kind of boggart," Sparkle said between bites. "They love tormenting human children, and they''re very sensitive to positive feelings like bravery. And fairies are everywhere, especially in gardens, so you really might''ve."


    D.T. looked at Sparkle for a moment, then back to me and spread her hands. Then grinned. "Been waiting for this kind of validation all my life. I never stopped believing. Though the College of Policing came close to making me."


    Malcolm emerged from the kitchen and swept over to us. "Here we are, ladies! Fry-up with mushrooms," he put a plate down in front of me, "and without," he put the second plate in front of D.T. "I''ll be back in a minute with some toast."


    D.T. stared at her plate, then gave me a whimsical smile. "I think my arteries are hardening just looking at this."


    "Mine too," I agreed, picking up my fork. "But it''s not an every-day thing, so I say enjoy the treat."


    "Amen," she agreed.


    We both dug in, eating in companionable silence for a few minutes. D.T. sneaked Sparkle a few bites of sausage, and I pretended not to notice.


    Replete, I sat back and looked across the table and asked, "So¡­now what?"


    D.T. sat back too and shrugged. "Well, like I said earlier, it''s not like I can do an official write-up on this. My governor would have me suspended and in hospital before you could say ''straight jacket.''" She wiped her mouth with her napkin and drank what was left of her tea. "What''s your official standing in the area?"


    I grimaced. "I don''t really have one. As I understand it, it''s my job to protect Oakwood Hall¡­"


    She lifted an eyebrow.


    I shook my head. "No offense, D.T., but I don''t know you well enough yet."


    She smiled a little. "Fair. What about the town?"


    "She protects that too," Malcolm said, coming over with the teapot. "Though that''s not official, just something her family has done for as long as the town''s been here. More tea?"


    I nodded. "Please."


    "Me too, thanks," D.T. said. "So¡­there''s a lot of history to be had between the town and your family, huh?" She asked me.


    "More than I know," I said honestly.


    "More than any of us know," Malcolm said. "And the town protects her family, if it comes to it," he added in a politely warning tone.


    "Duly noted," D.T. said.


    Malcolm nodded. "Good. Holler if you want anything else, ladies!" He headed back towards the bar.


    D.T. smiled at me. "I think I''ve just been warned."


    "At least it was polite," I said, returning her smile.


    She doctored her tea, then looked at me seriously. "Can I be honest with you?"


    "I hope so," I said.


    "I got sent to Oakwood because the last constable asked for a transfer," she said. "Guess he was uncomfortable working in his home town, which I kinda get." She sipped her tea. "I''ve been having doubts about staying in the force. Not sure it''s right for me. They sent me here to cool my heels and consider what I really want, because this town has almost no crime on record. Regardless, I intend to do my job to the best of my ability until I decide one way or the other."


    I nodded. "I respect that."


    She pursed her lips. "I''ll make you a deal, then." She waved her spoon at me. "If you hear something weird is going on in town, you come and get me first, and we''ll look into it together. If I see something weird in town, I''ll call you to come lend me a hand. Completely off the books and unofficial, of course. But that way, I''ll be doing my job proper like."


    Relief washed over me, and I smiled. "Of course. That sounds fine to me. To be honest in return, it''s a real weight off my mind to know I''ll have some kind of help if I need it."


    "Hey!" Sparkle protested. "I helped!"


    I smiled down at her. "Yes you did. Quite a lot, too. But I meant someone outside immediate family."


    "Oh," she settled down and nodded. "That''s OK then."


    D.T. chuckled. "Glad that''s settled." Then she sipped her tea and smiled. "I could do with some weirdness in my life, really."


    "Well," I finished stirring sugar into mine and sipped it, "hopefully you won''t have too much, at least not like today''s."


    She lifted her cup in salute, and I tapped mine against it.


    "Hey," I said impulsively, "you should meet me back here at the pub tonight."


    "Oh?" D.T. asked, meeting my eyes and looking interested.


    I smiled hopefully. "Well¡­it''s not weird or anything, but you could get to know the locals, unofficially as it were, and there''s a friendly darts game¡­"


    D.T. returned my smile. "That sounds really good."

 Chapter 40

    "What you''re describing does indeed sound like a dusk fox," Ken said, "though I haven''t heard of any being seen in¡­oh, it''s been a good hundred and fifty years. I think they were last seen around 1865 or 1870. Though I do recall your father mentioning some being kept as pets by wizards of the ICOA." He added that last bit with obvious distaste.


    "Pets?" I asked incredulously as I emerged from my bedroom closet, freshly showered and dressed after the morning''s exertions. "But it looked very intelligent, and I could''ve sworn I heard it speak."


    "It spoke!" Sparkle piped up from where she was lounging, teenager-sized, on the bed.


    "That''s very likely," Ken nodded, pacing restlessly back and forth in front of the windows. "They were considered - at least by your ancestors, Caley - to be as intelligent as humans, if not more."


    I gently pushed Sparkle''s feet out of my way and sat down on the edge of the bed. "What else can you tell me about them?" Sparkle sat up and leaned against me, which made me smile.


    Ken paused in his pacing and seemed to flicker for a moment as he considered before speaking. "Dusk foxes are a species native to Faerie in the Otherworld, distantly related to both the High Sidhe and black dogs, as well as a possible connection to the kitsune. As a result, they are at least mildly allergic to iron and iron alloys. They are highly intelligent and usually very friendly towards humans traveling in Faerie, as long as the human in question is polite and friendly in turn." He frowned slightly. "I have vague memories of a clan of dusk foxes having made a deal with one of your ancestors, though I don''t remember the terms of the deal or when it occurred. That appears to be another of the intentional holes in my memory."


    "Do you know anything about that?" I asked, giving Sparkle a gentle nudge.


    She sighed. "Sorry, no. Like I said, they were already pretty rare before I was born."


    I started to make a mental note to try to learn more about fairy biology, realized I''d already done so more than once, and gave it up as a bad job. Anyway, did I really want to know how much older Sparkle was? I decided that it didn''t matter, unless it became important for some reason.


    "That''s all right," I said aloud. "So, they''re intelligent and they can speak. Most of what I know about kitsune is probably fictional, but I remember a bit about black dog lore. Are dusk foxes a bad omen when seen too?"


    "No," Ken said firmly. "In that, they''re more like kitsune, considered harbingers of good fortune, as long as you don''t earn their ire somehow. Then they''re usually mischievous rather than outright malicious."


    I considered what I''d seen that morning, frowning a little. "This one¡­it seemed like it was struggling with itself half the time. Like it was being forced to do something it didn''t want to, until I sheared off its collar. That''s when it spoke, too."


    Ken sat down on the window seat facing us. "It''s possible that someone was using that collar to control it. Why didn''t you bring it back with you?"


    I winced. "It honestly never even occurred to me."


    Ken smiled gently. "That''s all right. Any enchantments on it were probably destroyed when you broke it anyway. In fact, I''d say you got lucky, and that whoever did the enchanting was either careless or arrogant."


    "Both," Sparkle said, sounding bored.


    I glanced at her - she was industriously making an elaborate cat''s cradle out of a loop of of bright purple string - then to Ken. "Why?"


    "Well," Ken said, gesturing idly, "a spellcaster who was really on the ball and had managed to enslave a dusk fox - likely through the collar being enchanted somehow, as you undoubtedly guessed - could have done better than what sounds to me like brute-force compulsions and¡­" He trailed off and frowned. "Von Einhardt."


    I made the connection at the same time, remembering the way he''d tried to entrap me with mental magic. My head spun a little as alarm flooded me, and I said, "I thought he wanted into the Hall, not to kill me outright."


    Beside me, I felt Sparkle stiffen.


    Ken pursed his lips, then waggled one hand back and forth. "Killing might be his backup plan¡­doing so would cause the defenses keeping him out of the Hall to slowly degrade and finally fail, but it would likely take years. Certainly less than ideal compared to you ''willingly'' letting him in immediately."


    Sparkle made a disgusted noise. "Unseemly haste from one such as he."


    I glanced at her again - her fingers were now thoroughly entangled in a purple string knot rather than a cat''s cradle - and asked, "What do you mean?"


    "Wizards," she said dismissively, beginning to carefully pick her fingers free.


    I looked to Ken, who smiled wryly. "Yes, that''s what you''re training to be¡­technically. Members of the International Consortium of Organized Arcana - "


    "Pompous dorks," Sparkle muttered, once again making me think she was repeating she''d heard my mother say that more than a few times.


    " - Have long attempted to claim the title of ''Wizard'' solely for their own members, calling spellcasters of other traditions and who refuse membership sorcerers and sorceresses," Ken finished.


    "Which is a much cooler sounding title anyway," Sparkle said with a decisive nod as she wiggled her now freed fingers and set about un-knotting her string.


    I had to admit she was right.


    "Okay," I said, "so why is it unseemly haste?"


    "Oh!" Ken looked sheepish. "Magically talented people who practice their art have a tendency to live substantially longer - and healthier - lives than common humans."


    "How much longer?" I asked. Always curious, that''s me.


    "Oh¡­with good diet and health care, maybe two centuries of active living, plus another forty or fifty years of what could politely be called old age," Ken replied. "Longer, if they cheat. Which, from what we know of him, I wouldn''t put past von Einhardt."


    "Cheat?"


    "Don''t ask," Sparkle murmured.


    "Really, don''t," Ken agreed. "At least not yet. It''s usually unpleasant."


    "Ah," I was still trying to wrap my head the idea that I might live to see two-fifty. At least I''d have plenty of time to find some hobbies.


    "Point being," Ken said, dragging us back on topic, "someone like von Einhardt undoubtedly has had plenty of time to plan, and no shortage of time to accomplish his goals." He frowned. "It does make this incident rather strange, if we connect it to him. It could be completely unrelated."


    At which point it hit me just how cruelly my parents had been cheated out of not just years or decades together, but centuries. And all that time I would have had with them. "Ah," I said again, sniffling a little as tears threatened to fall.


    Sparkle hugged my arm gently and whispered, "It''s okay, Caley. Don''t think about it that way. Think about how they cherished the time they had together."


    I took a deep breath and let it out, doing just that¡­but still wishing in my heart that they''d had more time. Also, I really needed to stop underestimating Sparkle.


    Apparently Ken did too, because he blinked in confusion for a moment, then nodded comprehension as he mentally caught up with her.


    "So," I said after a moment, "I have three immediate questions: First, since you reminded me of it, D.T. was curious to know if anyone can learn magic or if it''s an innate talent; second, why aren''t there more of my immediate ancestors around; third, and probably most important, if this wasn''t von Einhardt, who else could it have been? It seems to me that the dusk fox had to have been there specifically for me, since it came after me first and seemed focused on me even after D.T. intervened¡­and to my knowledge, I don''t have any enemies, potential or otherwise, besides von Einhardt." I smiled wryly. "Heck, how many people outside of Oakwood and my faculty advisor even know I''m here yet?"


    Ken pondered that for a long moment before answering. "To take the third - and indeed most important - question first, after the incident with the ogre probably quite a lot of people know you''re here, or will before too much more time passes. However, I don''t think any of them qualify as threats, at least not yet. At worst, they will be curious to learn about you, so they can figure out how best to make use of you as Guardian of the Hall and a traditionally neutral party in the supernatural world."


    I grimaced. "I think that actually sounds worse than ''threat''."


    Sparkle giggled.


    Ken smiled wryly. "Possibly. First question second, the answer is both. Technically, anyone can learn magic, but the vast majority of people don''t have enough natural talent for manipulating the energies of magic to make them first-rate spellcasters. Most people are like the O''Days¡­talented enough to learn a few small spells and rituals. Powerful magical talents do pop up randomly - your father believed magical ability was a combination of dominant and recessive genetic traits - but mostly they travel in bloodlines, building over time." He gestured toward me idly. "Thus, you, for example."


    I nodded. "Makes sense. I think she wants to learn."


    Ken smiled. "Once you know her well enough to be sure of her motives, I wouldn''t object to you trying to teach her a bit of magic. You can learn a lot by teaching skills you know."


    "I did a bit of work on the side as a history tutor at Cambridge," I said with a nod of agreement. "It helped me review what I knew, and pointed out some holes in what I''d learned."


    "Exactly," Ken said. "Finally, second question last¡­" He sighed. "Your ancestors have tended not to live their full spans of life for a variety of reasons. Not all of them met tragic ends like your parents. Some were brought down by disease, others by their own recklessness, or by standing up to threats that were simply too big for them." He frowned. "You are, to my knowledge, the last of your bloodline¡­but that seems strangely unlikely, and is perhaps a hole in my memories. I will have to do some research."


    "What happens if I die without having any children?" I asked. "Or if I don''t have a daughter?"


    Ken shrugged a little. "The latter is highly unlikely¡­your ancestors wanted the Guardian to be female, the magic of the Hall tends to that. The former is a topic for another time, and hopefully not something we''ll ever have to give any thought to."


    "But I don''t even have a boyfriend," I protested.


    "Or girlfriend, Sparkle giggled. "But you have time."


    "Indeed," Ken agreed, then rose. "Now, you owe me a couple of hours of spellcasting practice, then a bit of fencing after lunch, and it''s Thursday¡­"


    "Pub night!" Sparkle cheered, bouncing to her feet and pulling me to mine in the process.


    "I invited D.T. to meet me there," I said. "To get to know everybody." And hopefully to give me a chance to get to know her better. For that matter, just watching her interact with the pub''s regulars while off-duty would tell me a lot about her.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Ken nodded. "An excellent idea. I do approve of you making an ally of the local police constable."


    "Her arrival and help," I said thoughtfully, "did make me quite a bit less afraid."


    "Fear isn''t automatically a bad thing. If you don''t let it cloud your mind and impair your judgment it can make you cautious, and keep you alert and aware. It can sharpen your senses and speed your thought processes." Ken smiled gently. "There''s nothing wrong with being afraid, Caley, as long as you don''t let fear control you. It just means you''re smart enough to recognize the danger. And the best antidote to fear is knowledge and training."


    "Nice segue," I said dryly. "Come on, let''s go toss some spells around."


    The rest of the day passed uneventfully until it was time for me to head down to the pub, at which point I became unaccountably flustered about what I was going to wear. I have always dressed simply, and never considered myself vain, but tonight for some reason I wanted to dress¡­not my best, but not as casual as I usually did. After dismissing several outfits from my own closet, Sparkle raided my mother''s wardrobe and returned with an outfit that was exactly what I''d been looking for.


    A simple satin A-line skirt in forest green that fell to my knees, with a matching button-front vest that bore a striking resemblance to a corset, but which was only comfortably snug. They fit me perfectly.


    Beneath them, I added a cream colored satin blouse with rolled short sleeves, and a pair of cream colored tights that matched the blouse. I capped the outfit off with a pair of comfortable ankle boots in exactly the same shade of green as the skirt and vest, and a russet colored cardigan sweater that I tied around my shoulders with an eye towards the walk home in cooler night air.


    I turned this way and that in front of my bathroom mirror, nodded approvingly at myself, and headed into town with Sparkle - fairy-sized once more - riding in her accustomed spot on the Master Key.


    I arrived at the Oak & Ivy Pub a bit later than usual, close to 7:30, and was immediately welcomed with good cheer and an amusing mix of comments about how pretty I looked, why didn''t I dress up more often, and there was no need to dress up for them. Judy O''Day extracted me from the friendly scrum, planted me in one of the tall chairs at the bar, and slid a bread bowl of her homemade stew and a half-glass of red wine in front of me, loudly proclaiming, "Now you all know that young women will dress as they want and no other way. She''s late this evening, and probably hasn''t eaten, so you all go about your drinking and let the poor girl get some food in her."


    So I tucked into my dinner on a wave of warm, good-natured laughter and resumed conversations. I glanced around as I ate, but saw no sign of D.T. Burroughs yet.


    "She hasn''t come in just yet," Malcolm said as he passed by on his way to deliver four half-pints. "I''m sure she''ll be along before you know it."


    I knew the moment she arrived almost twenty minutes later, and not just because the little bells over the door chimed when she entered. A hush - not quite quiet, because not everybody did more than look - fell over the pub. I turned to see her standing in the doorway, wearing a pair of black leggings and flat-heeled calf-high boots, with a belled-sleeve tunic that was somehow exactly the same shade as my skirt and vest.


    She looked very pretty.


    Malcolm O''Day cleared his throat after a moment. "For those of you who haven''t met her yet, yon young lass is D.T. Burroughs, our new constable. She helped our Caley out with a spot of bother in town early this morning, so I''d consider it a personal favor if you''d all make her feel welcome."


    Apparently everyone in earshot understood what "a spot of bother" meant, or at least thought they did, and in moments D.T. was at the center of a friendly mass of townsfolk who all wanted to shake her hand and introduce themselves. After several minutes of that, Judy took pity on her and extracted her in much the same way she''d extracted me a half-hour earlier.


    "Well," D.T. said in obvious amusement as she sat down beside me at the bar, "that was a much friendlier reception than I was expecting."


    I smiled at her. "It''s a friendly town, once you belong to it."


    "And I belong to it now, hm?" She asked, smiling lopsidedly.


    "You do now," Judy said firmly as she appeared behind the bar. "Have you eaten this evening?"


    "I have not," D.T. said. "Whatever Caley is finishing smells amazing, though."


    Judy beamed. "Beef stew, my own personal recipe, in a sourdough bread bowl."


    "Sounds perfect," D.T. said, "and a half-pint of bitter, please."


    Judy nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.


    D.T. swiveled her chair towards me and smiled. "You look lovely this evening."


    "So do you," I said. "You must cut an impressive figure in your dress uniform."


    "I like to think so," she said, looking around. "It''s cozier than I was expecting with so many people in it. I''ve seen too many pubs become a crush with a crowd like this."


    "It''s all about the way you space the tables out," Malcolm said, delivering her half-pint. "I don''t leave them enough room to congregate in large clusters except by the door, the dartboard, and the jukebox."


    She took a sip of the beer, nodded appreciatively, and smiled. "Clever. I approve."


    He tipped an imaginary hat to her and headed off down the bar as Judy delivered D.T.''s meal.


    "Here you are, then," Judy said cheerfully. "I do hope you enjoy it."


    "I''m sure I will," D.T. replied. "If it were a little quieter in here, you''d be able to hear my stomach rumbling."


    Judy laughed and departed, D.T. tucked into her food, and I set about finishing mine.


    I was taking small sips of my wine when D.T. quietly asked, "Okay, I''m burning with curiosity. Is Sparkle around this evening?"


    I smirked and gestured to the Master Key where it lay against my breastbone atop my blouse.


    She blinked and leaned closer to take a better look at it, then sucked in a little breath. "No way!"


    I laughed. "That''s her. It''s how she stays with me in public when there''s people around who aren''t necessarily clued in."


    D.T. settled back and shook her head. "Amazing. So, there''s a running game of darts, I see¡­"


    I grinned. "I''ve been known to play a few rounds, but I don''t think I''m up for it tonight. Do you play?"


    She smirked. "I''ve been known to. And, as you said this morning, I should get to know these people better." She ate the last bite of her stew and collected her beer. "Will you be horribly offended?"


    I gave her a warm smile. "Not at all. That''s part of why I invited you, after all."


    She rose, winked at me, and headed for the game in progress.


    Judy paused in passing to collect the remains of our meals and murmured, "You did a good thing, bringing her here to meet the community. We like to know our police here, and like to have them be family." She nodded to me and disappeared into the kitchen.


    I turned to watch D.T. insinuate herself into the darts game, saying something that made the older men there laugh and make room for her. Yes, I had done the right thing. I sat back, sipped my wine, and relaxed, feeling very good.


    It didn''t last. A little after 9:30, Bellinus von Einhardt came through the door.


    He was still wearing the same dark suit and crimson vest under a dark overcoat I''d seen him in at Harrods, and silence literally spread around him. His silver dragon-headed cane caught the light as he reached up and took off his fedora.


    I felt a chill.


    His eyes found me instantly and he put on that not-quite-real smile as he walked towards me, moving through the patrons like a snake through tall grass. Everyone he passed turned to watch him with obvious unease, which he ignored utterly, either not noticing or not caring.


    "Ah, young Caitlyn," he said in a genial tone of voice, "what a lovely surprise. I stop on the road to have a drink before continuing, and here you are. I am delighted." He sat down at the bar, leaving D.T.''s vacated chair between us, and looked at Malcolm. "I should like a hot cup of tea. Earl Grey."


    Malcolm nodded, shot me a look that I didn''t understand, and went to get von Einhardt''s tea. At the same time, I felt Sparkle shift restlessly. Evidently, von Einhardt''s presence made her as uneasy as it made me.


    I was completely certain that he wasn''t at all surprised to find me there. Heck, the dusk fox''s ''attack'' on me that morning might have been at least in part to let him know I was still in the area.


    "I''m surprised to see you here," I said politely. "Have you been well? You never did call to arrange that visit to Oakwood Hall."


    His smile never faltered, never changed. It was like a mask. "Shockingly impolite of me, I know," he said with obviously feigned chagrin. "I have been terribly busy. But I have been well, and thank you for asking. What of you, though? You look a bit tired, I think."


    As he said it, he twirled his cane around and hooked the dragon''s head on the edge of the bar. Its eyes caught the light as they had that day at Harrods, and I felt that odd, faint, cobweb-like sensation brush over my face.


    Sparkle squirmed a little again, and I felt a rush of emotions from her¡­mostly a mix of smug satisfaction and worry.


    "Oh, I''ve just been busy getting settled in," I said breezily, taking a sip of my wine. "You know, lots to tidy up and so many of my father''s things to go through¡­it''s long and tedious work."


    The pub''s noise level had returned to something approximating its usual background hum, but not nearly as cheerful and boisterous as earlier. I didn''t need to look around to know that we were being watched.


    Malcolm returned and set a steaming cup of tea on the bar. "Cream and sugar for that?"


    "Thank you, no," von Einhardt said, laying a five pound note on the bar and waving dismissively when Malcolm offered him change. Instead, he spoke to me, picking up where I''d left off. "Yes, I imagine it must be. Difficult to inherit such an undoubtedly complex estate. Perhaps I could take some of that onerous task from your shoulders? I could even come up to the house this very evening, if you''d like. I wasn''t on my way anywhere in particular."


    I smiled at him, wondering if it looked as false on me as his did on him. "That''s very kind of you, but I''m almost done now. It''s strange, I haven''t found anything in my father''s notes to indicate he was working on something with you."


    "Oh?" He asked, sipping his tea. His neatly trimmed goatee seemed to twitch as his smile became a mask. "That''s rather strange, don''t you think?"


    "Rather," I agreed. "Why would that be?"


    He shook his head. "I really wouldn''t know. Perhaps I should come and take a look at his notes. He may have made a reference to me that you wouldn''t understand." He still spoke politely, but there was a slightly condescending undertone to it.


    I gave him another polite smile. "Really, Mr. von Einhardt...it''s almost ten at night now. I was nearly ready to go home to bed when you came in."


    "Time of day matters little," he said dismissively. "This is a matter of great importance."


    "Then you should have called me, sir," I said firmly. "Rather than waiting until we accidentally bumped into each other. Or was it even an accident?"


    I hadn''t meant to say that last bit, and winced inwardly after the fact. I didn''t want him to know I was suspicious of him and his motives. From the way his eyes narrowed and his cheeks began to turn red, I had a bad feeling he had figured it out.


    "Child," he said just as firmly, "You don''t know what you''re talking about. Surely I can convince you..."


    I hadn''t seen him pluck his cane from the edge of the bar until the thing''s ruby eyes flashed at me and I felt a brief stab of pain in my right temple. Sparkle practically spasmed where she clung to the key, and I heard her make a sound almost like a growl.


    "That," I snapped at von Einhardt, "will be quite enough of that."


    The pub was suddenly silent except for the scraping of chairs from all around us. Past von Einhardt, I could see that most of the regulars who hadn''t already been standing now were, and all of them were watching us.


    For his part, von Einhardt actually looked surprised.


    "Do that again," I said quietly, "and you will not like the consequences."


    He snorted derisively. "I may have underestimated you, child, but you are still only that¡­a child." He was on his feet suddenly, and grabbed my right arm around the bicep, his fingers digging in painfully. "You will take me to the House right now, or I will - "


    There was a metallic snap-hiss, and the length of D.T.''s collapsible metal baton came to rest lightly on von Einhardt''s shoulder. She stepped slightly to one side so I could see her clearly as she said very seriously, "Police. You want to let go of the young lady."


    To my right, Malcolm had one hand under the bar, and there was a soft, ratcheting click that made a number of people - von Einhard and D.T. included - go completely still. D.T.''s eyes widened, but didn''t leave the back of von Einhardt''s head. It hadn''t sounded at all like I''d expected, but I somehow knew that Malcolm had some sort of gun under the bar.


    "Listen to the constable, sir," Malcolm said in a quiet voice. "We don''t take kindly to young women being handled roughly in this town. Especially not that particular young woman."


    Von Einhardt released my arm and raised his free hand in an open gesture of surrender. "I apologize for my hasty and rude actions. I am under a great deal of..."


    "We really don''t care," Malcolm cut him off. "You''ve worn out your welcome. I suggest you go."


    I had never literally seen a man''s face darken in anger before. I hadn''t known it was possible. But von Einhardt''s face literally seemed to grow darker, flushing a deep red at his cheeks and temple, his eyes seeming to darken and the shadows around them growing deeper somehow. "You don''t know what you''re dealing with."


    "Neither do you, buddy," Someone said from the crowd around us. As the words were said, people parted to make a blatant path to the door. I glanced around and saw that several of the older men were holding knives of various sizes.


    D.T. side-stepped and lightly tapped von Einhardt''s shoulder with her baton. "Sir, you can leave now, or I can escort you to the station so you and I can have a little talk. I''m off duty, but that won''t stop me."


    Von Einhardt stood stock still for a long moment, then said stiffly. "Since I have worn out my welcome, I shall depart. But I will be in touch," he nodded to me, bowing slightly. "Perhaps we can arrange a convenient time to..."


    "We can''t," I said flatly. "You are not welcome in my home."


    "Or in this town," someone said bluntly.


    Von Einhardt''s cheeks actually managed to flush even darker red, and I saw a vein pulsing in his forehead. He seemed to grind his teeth for a moment, his jaw working and his beard twitching. Then he visibly forced himself to relax, and deftly placed his hat on his head. "Good night," he said to the room at large, making his way down the path to the door that had been cleared for him with as much dignity as one could while retreating.


    D.T. followed him to the door and remained watching him as it closed and he vanished into the darkness.


    I let out the breath I hadn''t realized I''d been holding, and everyone around me began to relax. I felt a couple of reassuring pats on the back, and concerned looks from the people I could see. But nobody asked, they simply returned to their tables. The game of darts that had been abandoned when von Einhardt grabbed me was resumed, and shortly I was alone at the bar with Malcolm on the other side of it.


    I could hear some of the older patrons asking one another if the stranger hadn''t looked familiar somehow, as Malcolm set a steaming cup of tea in front of me. "You all right?"


    I nodded to him and sipped the drink slowly. Its heat eased the chill that had filled me. "Thank you." I glanced around the room. "All of you." The thought that everyone in the room had come to my defense without a question made me feel even warmer inside than the tea.


    I received a lot of polite nods and a couple of hand-waves. A few people said something to the effect of "You''d do the same for us," or "We take care of our own."


    I silently blessed them.


    D.T. seemed to materialize beside me, settling into the tall bar chair as she collapsed her baton again and made it disappear into her belled right sleeve. "What the heck was that about?"


    I sipped my tea as Malcolm produced a fresh half-pint for her. Finally, I said, "Walk me home in a bit, and I''ll tell you what I know."


    D.T. nodded. "Deal."

 Chapter 41

    "¡­And that''s pretty much the long and short of it," I said as I watched D.T. examining the open gates at the end of the Hall''s drive. "There''s an awful lot of holes in the story, but¡­well, it''s mostly mystery."


    D.T. made a thoughtful sound. From inside her left sleeve she''d produced a small but impressively powerful flashlight and was inspecting the wall and gate with it. "I don''t like the sound of him either way. I should''ve run him in for assault¡­but from what you''ve said, I''m not sure what he would''ve done to me if I had." She glanced at me. "Mind control, huh? That''s amazingly creepy."


    Sparkle detached herself from the Master Key and fluttered over to land on D.T.''s right shoulder. "It''s what he was trying to do, but he''s not as good at it as he thinks he is. What''cha lookin'' at? It''s a wall."


    "A magically reinforced and protected wall, apparently," I added.


    "It''s a sturdy wall and a sturdy gate," D.T. agreed. "I can''t speak for any magical defenses it has, but I don''t like the absence of modern surveillance equipment. I don''t see any signs of cameras, microphones, or even an electronic lock on the gate." She looked at me. "How do you open it if someone''s coming to visit? For that matter, how would you even know, you don''t have so much as a bell or an intercom out here."


    I shifted a little and clasped my hands in front of me. "In point of fact, you''re the first person who''s visited here since I moved in. So¡­I suppose I''d have to walk down and open it by hand."


    D.T. grunted, returning her attention to the gate. "Might want to look into doing something about that, and not just for your convenience. I have no doubt that magic is super awesome, but you should have some security cameras and an intercom out here at the very least."


    Somehow, that hadn''t occurred to me. "I''ll do that," I said seriously.


    She turned, shutting off her flashlight, and smiled. "Gotta say, this is one hell of a place you''ve got here. Beats out my crappy little flat above the station."


    I turned to take in the view from the gate. At some point in the last few days, the trees and flower beds had been artfully lit with strings of tiny white fairy lights, turning them into islands of twinkling light in the darkness. Beyond the lawn, ground-level flood lamps lit the front of the Hall from below, drawing the eye. Apparently, the brownies had been busy getting ready for spring. The whole thing looked quite magical beneath the clear night sky.


    I smiled. "It''s pretty amazing, isn''t it?"


    "Beautiful," D.T. said quietly, then sighed. "I''d ask for a quick tour, but it''s late and I want to head back and have a quick word with Mr. O''Day about a certain firearm he has under his bar."


    Sparkle immediately lifted off and zipped over to land on my shoulder.


    I laughed softly. "Poor Malcolm. Another time?" When I''d known her for more than one day, regardless of how many times she''d stepped in to help me.


    "I''d like that a lot," she said, and waved as she headed out towards the road. As she passed through the open gate, she called back over her shoulder, "Good night, Caley! Night, Sparkle!"


    "Night, D.T.!" I called back.


    We watched her walk down the road a ways towards town, the beam of her flashlight bobbing, before I closed and locked the gate. She was right, I needed to invest in some mundane electronic security for it. I''d call Margrave in the morning.


    "So," I said to Sparkle as I walked up the drive towards the Hall, "what do you think of her?"


    "I like her," Sparkle said without hesitation as she hopped off my shoulder and fluttered along beside me. "She''s nice, and really mixed up about being a police officer. She''s also really lonely. She''s very attracted to you, but isn''t sure you''d be interested."


    I stopped and stared at her. She continued on a few more beats before realizing I''d stopped, then turned and zipped back to hover in front of me, smiling. "Are you interested?" She asked curiously.


    "Where did you get all that from?" I asked, astonished. "Were you listening in on her conversations at the pub or something?"


    "Nah," Sparkle dismissed that with a casual wave of one hand. "Fairies are...are..." She frowned, then said very carefully, "Contact empaths. That''s what Master James said, anyway. I never understood what he meant, but I''m really good at telling how people are feeling as long as I can touch them."


    Well, that explained a few things.


    "So when you landed on her shoulder," I began.


    "I wanted to see how she was feeling," Sparkle finished for me. "Well...really, I wanted to see what she was looking at," she admitted, "but learning how she was feeling was pretty useful too, right?"


    I huffed a little laugh. "Yes, yes it was. Do you think we can trust her?"


    Sparkle hesitated. "I¡­think we can. But maybe we''d better get to know her better before deciding for sure."


    I smiled at her. "That''s a very wise attitude, Sparkle."


    "So¡­" Sparkle said, bobbing up and down a little. "Are you interested in her?" She clasped her hands behind her back and leaned forward in mid-air, peering at me and smirking. "Hmmmm?"


    "What if I was?" I asked, starting to walk up the drive towards the Hall again. "Would that bother you?"


    "Why would it?" Sparkle asked, falling in beside me again. "Fairies get together with whoever makes us happiest."


    I smiled. "Well, that makes fairies smarter people than a lot of humans. And¡­I don''t know, honestly. In my life so far, relationships are something that happen to other people. I''m flattered¡­I''m open to the idea¡­I guess we''ll see what happens."


    Sparkle cheered, shot straight up while doing a pirouette, then zoomed off towards the Hall. I shook my head and followed more sedately. The grounds really were quite beautiful at night, and deserved to be appreciated as much as the Hall itself. I resolved to spend a bit more time outside in the real world now that spring had arrived.


    I folded up my cardigan and left it on a bureau by the door and, still a bit too wired from the evening''s excitement to go to bed just yet, headed for the kitchen. I had it in mind to make us some hot cocoa, and - pausing only to get a couple of sugar cookies for Sparkle - began pulling the ingredients together at the stove. I''d barely finished assembling what I needed when the kitchen door opened and Ken entered.


    Followed, to my astonishment, by Wadsworth, the head of the Hall''s clan of brownies. I''d only actually seen him once before, when I met him by accident.


    Both of them looked entirely too somber for my comfort.


    "See," Ken said to Wadsworth, "she''s back, safe and sound."


    Wadsworth nodded seriously. "I see, spirit." He frowned up at me. "Are ye well, Lady Reid?"


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    I nodded. "Fine, Wadsworth, really. We had a bit of excitement down at the pub earlier - " Ken''s eyes snapped to my face, worry appearing there, " - but had plenty of help dealing with it."


    "What kind of excitement?" Ken asked.


    "Von Einhardt showed up at the pub," I said, "and was driven off by D.T. and the townsfolk."


    "D.T. is the new police constable in town," Ken told Wadsworth.


    "He also tried to mind control Caley again," Sparkle chimed in.


    I had been trying not to mention that.


    "Of course," Sparkle added smugly, "I was there to stop it, so there was nothing to worry about."


    Ken and Wadsworth exchanged a look.


    "Wadsworth," I said, "I was about to make some hot chocolate. Would you like a cup?"


    Ken shook his head ever so slightly, tipped his head towards me, then towards Wadsworth. Wadsworth, in turn, looked uncomfortable.


    I felt my cheeks heat up. "Just being friendly, I meant to incur no obligation."


    Wadsworth relaxed. "In that case, aye, I would welcome a cup. Perhaps with a splash of something stronger?"


    "I believe I saw a bottle of spiced rum in one of these cabinets," I said, moving to look.


    "Aye, that''d do nicely," Wadsworth said as he clambered up onto one of the tall stools at the island, took off his little pork pie hat and laid it on the island''s counter.


    "So," I said as I returned to the stove with the bottle, "what''s bothering you two?" I mixed portions of sugar, cocoa and salt in a saucepan the way Sister Sarah taught me, added water, and turned on the burner.


    "Some very sophisticated magic tried to breach the wards protecting the grounds about an hour ago," Ken said bluntly. "Wadsworth and the other brownies noticed it before it got far enough to set off the alarms."


    "Aye," Wadsworth said. "''Tis one of our responsibilities, watching, maintaining, and reinforcing the outer wards when needed. We took care of it."


    "Do the wards end at the wall?" I asked.


    Wadsworth nodded. "Aye."


    "Is that why there''s an un-mowed strip of grass between the wall and street?" With spring arriving, it had been in the back of my mind to find that out.


    Wadsworth''s leathery skin darkened and he glanced down. "Aye, Lady Reid. We cannot safely go outside the wards."


    I considered that as I as I stirred the boiling mixture in the saucepan, turned down the heat, and slowly added milk to it. "Ken, could I lay wardstones at the corners of the property and extend the wards out so they could take care of that?"


    Ken cleared his throat. "Eventually you''ll know how to do that, but we have a more pressing matter, don''t you think?"


    I winced and flushed again. "Sorry."


    "It''s all right," Ken said gently. "I know it''s just how your mind works."


    "So," I said, picking up a whisk and vigorously stirring the contents of the pot to cover my embarrassment. "About an hour ago? That would put it after von Einhardt left the pub, and before D.T. and I started walking back."


    "I was extremely glad to see you hadn''t walked home alone under the circumstances," Ken said. "You think it was von Einhardt?"


    I shrugged, letting the contents of the pot settle as I turned off the heat, added some vanilla, and began whisking the cocoa to a froth. "As far as I know, nobody else is trying to get into the Hall at the moment. I mean, it could be someone else we don''t know about yet, but why borrow trouble?"


    Wadsworth huffed a little laugh. "She''s got ye there, spirit."


    Ken brought over three mugs for me, and I saw him smiling. "You''re right, there''s no reason to believe it''s anybody else at this point." He sighed. "You have had an exciting day, haven''t you."


    I nodded and poured steaming cocoa into the mugs. "Too exciting." I liberally doctored one of the mugs with some of the spiced rum, then brought all three mugs over to the island.


    Sparkle jumped off the counter and was instantly teenager-sized. She perched on a stool beside Wadsworth, took the mug I handed her, and slurped happily. Wadsworth accepted his doctored cocoa with a serious nod and murmured thanks, then I leaned against the island to sip my own. "So, what do we do about this?"


    Ken sighed. "For now, there''s nothing we can do, really. Except be even more on our guard than we were before." He looked at me seriously. "I think you''d best curtail your trips into town, or at least not go alone - "


    "She''s never alone when she goes into town," Sparkle said, eyes flashing with anger for the first time that I could remember. "Don''t dismiss me just because I''m a fairy, Ken."


    Ken held up his hands. "I didn''t mean it that way, Sparkle, and I apologize. I spoke poorly."


    Wadsworth hid a smile behind his mug of cocoa.


    Sparkle huffed. "Apology accepted." She sipped her cocoa.


    Ken smiled a little, then returned his attention to me. "Be that as it may, I''d feel better if you stayed close to home for now."


    I sighed. "Understood. I don''t like it...but I also don''t want to see what von Einhardt might do in town if he got really upset. He came close to losing his cool tonight, and I think that only the sheer number of people around kept him from being overtly hostile."


    "But Caley stood up for herself really well," Sparkle said, "and everybody at the pub came to her defense. It was kinda cool."


    "I''m still uncomfortable that it happened at all," Ken said. Then he smiled a little. "But it''s nice to see that you''ve really set down some roots in town."


    I nodded. "It felt really good when everybody in the pub stood in my defense. I...I''ve never been part of a community like that before."


    "As I understand it," Wadsworth said, "few humans ever are. ''Tis a sad thing. Count yerself lucky to have experienced it, lass."


    I smiled, glad that Wadsworth was relaxing a bit around me. "I do." Then I sighed, and my smile faded. "All right, so, I stay around the Hall for a while. That''s okay. I''ll just ring Malcolm in the morning and let him know. He can put the word out, and people can keep an eye out for von Einhardt showing up in town again."


    "Excellent idea," Ken said with a nod.


    "And you can invite D.T. up to the Hall to give her a tour!" Sparkle said excitedly.


    Ken lifted an eyebrow and smiled slightly. Wadsworth just smirked and sipped his cocoa.


    "Maybe," I said, "in a couple of weeks. Once I''ve had a chance to get to know her better, and after this bit of stress has died down a little."


    "She wanted you to get security cameras for the wall," Sparkle reminded me. "Have her come take a look at them once they''re in."


    "Not a bad idea, that," Wadsworth said. "The wall is well-defended magically, but adding some electronic surveillance to it would make managing it easier."


    Ken and I both looked at Wadsworth in surprise. "You know about surveillance equipment?" Ken asked.


    Wadsworth shook his head. "Of it, aye. About it, nay. We''d have to learn to use it just like anybody. But I''ve heard good things, and I know my clan here wouldn''t mind having eyes to watch outside the walls¡­even electronic ones. I''ve heard rumors that some of the High Sidhe have added mortal security to their places of power in the mortal world. "


    "Huh," Ken said. "I hadn''t heard that."


    Wadsworth smiled smugly. "I''ve family outside these walls. They keep us informed."


    I leaned forward. "Is that a line of communication I could make use of? To find out if anyone''s talking about me and the Hall out there?"


    Wadsworth''s smile grew a bit. "Aye, I could put out feelers. Just be aware that such information might have a cost."


    "What sort of cost?" I asked uneasily.


    "Negotiable and probably negligible," Wadsworth said dismissively. "Might be money, might be small favors or even supplies."


    I looked to Ken, who nodded a little. "I think you can rely on Wadsworth to negotiate on your behalf."


    "Aye, lass, ye can," Wadsworth confirmed. "With care, and to your benefit."


    I hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "All right. Find out what you can, but try not to make it too costly. Though I wouldn''t mind spending a bit of money if it''ll buy some goodwill." I smiled a little.


    "Very wise." Wadsworth nodded and drained the last of his cocoa. He snapped his fingers and the mug was instantly, spotlessly clean. Then he scooped up his hat and plopped it on his head before he hopped off his chair and swept into a bow. "With your leave, my Lady, I''ll get on that."


    I smiled a bit more. "Thank you, Wadsworth."


    He tipped the brim of his hat to me and vanished.


    I sat down beside Sparkle, where Wadsworth had been a moment earlier, and rubbed my face.


    Ken sighed. "I don''t like this at all."


    I looked up at him. "What? I thought finding out who might be asking questions about me would be a good idea."


    "Oh, not that," he said quickly. "That was an excellent thought, and well handled. I''ve no doubt that Wadsworth will bargain carefully on your behalf and turn up anything there is to know. No, I meant this assault on the wards. Von Einhardt is getting pushier."


    I frowned. "What is it he wants in here, anyway? Or is it just the Hall he wants to possess, by any means necessary."


    Ken shrugged ruefully. "Honestly, it could be any number of things. The library is unquestionably bursting with rare and unique volumes of magical lore, there are enchanted artifacts all over the place, and who knows how many secrets locked away within these walls. Or it could be even simpler than that¡­it could just be that he craves the power that Oakwood Hall represents, both metaphorically and literally."


    I lowered my head and stared into my half-empty mug of cocoa.


    Sparkle leaned over and rested her head on my shoulder. "It''ll be okay, Caley. We''ll get through this."


    From somewhere deep inside the house, there came a resonant, slightly off-key BONG, like the peal of a large but imperfect church bell. It triggered a sense of alarm and alertness in me, jolting me with adrenaline. It rang again, and I was on my feet before I realized what I was doing. So was Sparkle, her eyes wide and her expression tense.


    "What the heck was that?" I asked.


    Faintly, from somewhere outside, I heard the sound of something crashing into metal.


    Ken was already opening the kitchen door as he replied, "The Hall''s emergency alarm. The front gates are under - "


    A second resounding something-on-metal crash, louder this time.


    " - attack." Ken finished lamely.


    "I think I figured that out," I said, slipping past him into the foyer with Sparkle hot on my heels.

 Chapter 42

    "Caley, stop," Ken said as I approached the front door.


    "What?" I asked. "I have to see what''s going on out there, don''t I?"


    Ken hesitated, then sighed. "Of course you do. But please, at least take your staff with you."


    That was probably a good idea. "All right, I''ll just need to run back to my - " I started to turn¡­and saw my white waxwood staff with its phoenix topper leaning against the bureau beside the door. It definitely hadn''t been there when I left my sweater there barely a half-hour earlier¡­I knew for a fact that I''d left my staff in the workshop.


    "Thank you," I said to nobody in particular, understanding that the Hall had brought what I needed to me. I really needed to not get into the habit of relying on that though.


    I quickly pulled my cardigan back on, scooped up my staff in my left hand, and opened the door just as the bell deep inside the Hall gave another slightly discordant BONG and something crashed into the front gate again. At least, that''s what I assumed was going on.


    "Please be careful," Ken said.


    "We will be," Sparkle said, landing on my shoulder.


    "Call the police station," I said, "see if you can reach D.T.. If she''s not there, try the pub."


    Ken smiled wanly and nodded as I moved past him out the door, and set off down the drive at a gentle jog. Not for the first time that evening, I was profoundly glad I''d chosen sensible low-heeled ankle boots instead of something ''nicer.''


    I briefly wondered what time it was. It had to be at least eleven, maybe close to midnight. I hadn''t paid much attention to the time after von Einhardt''s appearance at the pub, or while D.T. was walking me home. Not that it mattered very much at all.


    There was another resounding crash from up ahead, but all I could see were shadows moving. Why had nobody ever installed electric lights on the wall, or at least at the gate? Something else to get taken care of as soon as possible.


    But I could make my own light. With a small effort of will and a flick of my right hand, I sent a ball of light speeding ahead of us and arcing upward. As it reached the gate, I fed it more energy, brightening it until it was lighting up the gate, the wall on either side, the drive, and the street beyond.


    There was nothing there, all the way to the woods on the other side of the road.


    I slowed to a walk and then stopped well back from the gates. "What the heck?"


    Sparkle, who''d been clinging to my ear for balance the whole way, now took off and headed for the gates. "I''ll go look!"


    "You''ll do no such thing!" I said sternly, and she came to an abrupt halt mid-air. "Come back here. Until we know what''s going on, we stay well back."


    She huffed, but obediently flew back to hover beside me.


    "Thank you, Sparkle," I said softly. I shifted the light, moving it out over the street...and saw that there were at least two trees down across the road, with what might''ve been fragments of others scattered all around.


    I moved the light a bit further, and saw that a hole had been smashed through the trees across the road from the gate.


    "And that," I said, "is why we''re not - "


    There was a rumbling sound, and an enormous blur suddenly darted out from the woods into the light, across the road, and smashed into the gates with a resounding crash.


    Sparkle and I both yelped in surprise and jumped back. I feel no shame at all in admitting it.


    With its forward momentum stopped by the gates, the blur resolved into what my brain translated as an enormous boar. It was definitely porcine, with huge tusks jutting up from its lower lip and bristly dark fur down its spine and in patchy clumps elsewhere. Its eyes glowed an absolutely malevolent red as it glared at me through the bars of the gate, then snorted and gave its head a shake as if to clear it.


    It was the size of a large delivery van.


    " - going any closer," I finished weakly. "What the hell is that?"


    "Sorry, never seen anything like it," Sparkle said.


    It scraped one hoof on the pavement before pushing its tusks against the gate, which groaned and bent in just a little. It huffed, turned in place, and trotted back into the woods out of sight.


    No doubt to get room for another charge.


    "What do I do?" I asked.


    Sparkle shook her head. "No idea."


    It occurred to me then that this might be my own personal test. I''d resolved after the incident with the troll not to let another overtly hostile monster get away, and this giant boar-thing was mounting an open assault on the Hall''s first line of defense.


    Could I live up to that vow? Could I kill this thing if I needed to?


    I stared at the gates, seeing the way they now bowed in a bit where they met. If that monster could break down the gates, it would make short work of me. Could I retreat to the Hall? Shut the door and hide inside? Until when?


    Would the Hall even be able to keep it out.


    I made a frustrated noise. I really needed to learn more about the Hall''s defenses, passive and active, whether I was prepared to understand them or not. I didn''t need to understand them to know what they were, and what - if anything - I had to do to maintain them.


    In the meantime, I had to stop thinking about the future and concentrate on what the hell I was going to do right now. How did one stop a giant boar?


    I briefly imagined summoning a giant mounted hunter with a boar lance, and gave my head a shake to clear it. I could throw up a big shield, but at best that would just buy me a bit more time, and probably exhaust me. And what would I be buying time for? The only help that might show up was D.T., and...


    And what? What would she be able to do?


    Okay. I took a deep breath and let it out. I supposed that sometimes the best defense had to be a good offense.


    I saw a flicker of movement in the shadows beneath the trees across the street, and heard the rumbling of hooves on rough ground. Then the enormous boar (or whatever it actually was) seemed to sail out of the shadows beneath the trees and slam into the gate with a deafening crash, bowing them further inward. It staggered back a few steps and shook its head.


    I aimed the phoenix-capped end of my staff at it through the gate, spun it in a short circle, and shouted, "Glacius hastem!"


    A half-dozen spikes of ice formed in the air in a rough circle where my staff passed, each of them as long as my forearm and as wide, tapering to a lethal point. Then I thrust my left hand forward and shouted, "Impulsus!"


    My force spell caught the ice spikes and sent them whistling through the bars of the gate with the speed of a fired bullet. One, I have to admit, was aimed badly and shattered on one of the bars. The rest slammed into the boar''s head and shoulders.


    One of the ice spikes shattered on one of the boar''s tusks, making it flinch as tiny shards of ice peppered its snout and eyes. Another sank a few inches into the creature''s left shoulder. The other three left shallow gashes on its hide as they hit badly either didn''t penetrate fully and fell to the pavement, or bounced away into the darkness.


    The boar squealed angrily and slammed its tusks into the gate, shaking it.


    Sparkle began flinging tiny, brilliantly bright sparks of purple energy at the creature with both hands. One after the other they sailed into the creature, leaving scorch marks on its hide, but not really doing much until one struck it squarely on the snout, making it rear back, squeal, and shake its head.


    Well, we certainly weren''t getting the job done. I wasn''t about to try throwing lightning through the gates, figuring it''d just ground out on the metal.


    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    "Sparkle," I called, "go for its eyes!"


    She did, redirecting her aim and throwing her energy bolts faster. They might''ve been tiny, but her aim was good, and four of the glowing purple sparks struck the boar''s left eye in quick succession, causing the creature to rear up and throw its head back with a squeal of pain.


    When its hooves struck the pavement again, it glared at us with only its remaining right eye¡­the left one was a scorched, burned-out ruin.


    I would never underestimate my tiny fairy friends again. I briefly imagined what a dozen of them - or a hundred of them - all working together that way could accomplish.


    The boar gave another squealing roar, turned, and trotted back into the darkness. As it turned, I noted that there was no collar on this creature''s neck. I wondered what that meant.


    "I think I made it mad," Sparkle said breathlessly as she dropped down and landed on my shoulder. "And I think I need a nap."


    "See," I said teasingly, "this is why Ken''s been bothering you about working on your stamina."


    She huffed and grabbed my ear for balance. "What do we do now?"


    Ariana Pendragon stepped into view on my right, startling us both. She was dressed in a plain white t-shirt, jeans and trainers, with her sword held loosely in her right hand, and looked like she''d been dragged out of bed. Neither Sparkle nor I had heard her approach. "Ken called my cell and opened a door for me," she said. "Was that a giant boar?"


    "It was a giant boar," I said, relief flooding my body and my voice. "I am incredibly glad you''re here."


    "Cool." She gave me a quick smile, then nodded at the woods across the road. "Nice job there, Sparkle, taking out its eye. That couldn''t have been easy."


    "Thank you!" Sparkle said, still sounding a bit breathless, but just as relieved as I felt.


    "What do we do?" I asked.


    "Start by being glad that boar isn''t old Glatisant," Ariana said. "That thing''s a bloody menace. Fortunately, it sleeps more than it''s active these days, and it''s immune to being summoned." She glanced at me. "Emrys sends his apologies for not being able to help out, but he''s tied up in negotiations with one of his cousins and can''t break away. Honestly, I was glad for the call. I''ve been bored out of my skull."


    I gave her a weak smile, then looked back across the road. "I have no idea what to do here."


    Ariana made a thoughtful sound. "Think the gates will hold?"


    I shook my head. "I have doubts."


    She nodded slowly. "You might think about opening the gates rather than letting it hit them¡­but I can understand not wanting to let the Hall''s defenses - "


    The boar, moving even faster than before, sped out of the woods and slammed tusks-first into the gates, bending and twisting them even further. I was somewhat relieved to see Ariana jump in surprise even as I did.


    "Holy shit," she said, "that thing''s fast."


    It glared at us through the twisted, buckled bars with a single, balefully glowing red eye, huffed, turned, and trotted back into the woods.


    "I definitely made it angry," Sparkle said in a small voice.


    "I don''t think those gates are opening without major work," I said.


    Ariana nodded. "All right. I''m going over the wall. I can do more out there than in here. Give me a leg up?"


    I stared at her blankly.


    She laughed. "Sorry. I''m used to working with Emrys. Can you give me a plane of force about two feet off the ground, then use it to boost me to the top of the wall?"


    "Oh! Yes, no problem at all." I gestured with my right hand and a transparent, flat blue square of energy appeared beside the wall to the right of the gates. Ariana nodded, trotted towards it and then hopped up onto it. As she did, I gestured upward, using the force spell to boost her to the top of the wall. She saluted me with her sword as I released the spell, then she dropped down on the street side of the wall and out of my line of sight.


    She reappeared a moment later in the middle of the street, as she brandished her sword and called out, "Well? Come on then, old boar! Or are you afraid to face the daughter of Pendragon?"


    Apparently it wasn''t, because it came thundering out of the darkness of the woods again, clipping another tree as it came and sending it crashing down across the street. Ariana back-stepped lithely, pivoted and swung upward, slicing a nasty looking gash in the boar''s side.


    It tried to turn to face her, but was moving too fast, and slammed into the gates at an angle. The top right hinge gave, and the gates swayed inward drunkenly as the boar righted itself, turned, and lunged at Ariana. She danced out of the way of its short charge, her sword seeming to flash with its own light as she deftly separated one of the creature''s tusks from its face.


    In retaliation, it swung its entire head towards her, catching her full-on and sending her flying into the wall to the right of the gate. She hit with a thud and slid down to the verge with a grunt.


    The bottom right hinge gave out, and the gates toppled inward, tearing both left hinges off and crashing to the drive.


    The boar huffed and trotted back into the woods in a way that was distinctly smug.


    "Ariana!" I called, moving closer to the gates.


    "I''m fine," she groaned, then pushed herself to her feet. "Tougher than I look and all that. Even still, ow." She gave herself a shake and picked up her sword from where it had fallen. "That thing''s a lot bigger than the monsters I''m used to dealing with. It''s like trying to fight a small cavalry charge. I can''t get out of the way and still be in a good position to hit it."


    A small cavalry charge? I blinked a few times, then smiled slowly. "I know how to stop it."


    "Good thing," Ariana said, limping over to me. "Now that the gates are down, the next charge will either flatten us, or take it all the way to the Hall."


    "Or both!" Sparkle added.


    "Or neither," I said, and began using my staff to gather energy.


    There was still plenty of moisture in the air and on the ground from the recent rain, so I started there. Focusing my will through my staff, I murmured "Aquam glacius." Moisture gathered from the air and ground around us, forming a slick of ice that completely covered the stretch of road between the woods and gate.


    I spread my arms and called out "Ferrum et lignum voco et mutare" as I cast my will out towards the gates and smashed trees. The gates resisted for a moment, then twisted together into larger spikes of iron, as the trees floated towards us, reshaping into thick, spike-ended poles. The iron and wooden spikes embedded themselves into the pavement where the gates had previously stood, facing outward at an angle I hoped was low enough without being too low.


    Ariana was grinning and nodding. "Oh yes, that''s very good!" She trotted forward and banged the flat of her sword against one of the iron spikes, making the sword ring like a bell. "Come on then, old boar! Come and get us!"


    In the woods across the road, the boar fairly roared a challenge and we heard the thud of its hooves and the crashing of its passage as it charged. Ariana ran back to me, grabbed my arm, and dragged me further back away from my new barricade. But she watched the road as she did, not wanting to miss the show.


    The boar materialized across the road from us and struck the ice-slicked pavement moving even faster than before. Its hooves shot out from under it, sending it crashing to its side on the road, turning as it shot towards us belly-first.


    My improvised barricade of iron and wooden spikes worked perfectly, impaling the creature in a line across its belly and bring it to an abrupt halt. It squealed and thrashed, but was unable to extricate itself or rise. Pale red fluid that wasn''t quite blood poured from its wounds.


    "May I?" Ariana asked, gesturing with her sword.


    "Please," I said, feeling both triumphant and nauseated at the same time.


    She hurried forward, and with two swift strokes sliced the boar''s head from its body. More pale red not-blood poured out onto the ground beneath it.


    I tried not to throw up and failed miserably, emptying the contents of my stomach onto the grass beside the driveway. The less said about that, the better.


    After a minute, a gentle hand rested on my shoulder, and I looked up to see Ariana watching me sympathetically. "First time?"


    "Yeah," Sparkle said softly.


    Ariana sighed and squeezed my shoulder. "It gets easier. If it helps, that thing wasn''t a ''real'' animal of any kind. That goo it''s hemorrhaging all over your driveway and lawn is a type of ectoplasm. It''ll start to dissolve in a few minutes, and take the boar with it." She looked over her shoulder. "Shame, really. That tusk would make one hell of a souvenir. And just think of the smoked ribs."


    I somehow managed to gag and laugh at the same time, which left me coughing for a minute.


    "Sorry," Ariana said with an unrepentant smirk as I got the coughing under control. "But laughter is better in this sort of situation. You did really well, Caley, all things considered." She turned to look at the remains, and after a moment I rose and turned to stand beside her. "Personally," she said, "I''d''ve gone for fire or lightning. But I don''t think either would''ve been as effective as that good old-fashioned spiked barricade. Emrys would''ve added some artistic flourishes, but your spellwork was perfectly good."


    "You gave me the idea," I said, "with your comment about cavalry." Steam was starting to rise from the boar and the goo it had bled all over the place as it began to dissolve. "That''s really weird."


    "That," Sparkle said, "is the mark of something that was summoned and shaped by another spellcaster."


    Ariana grunted. "She''s right. Somebody made that." She glanced at me. "Already making enemies, kiddo?"


    I sighed. "I think I came with one built-in. So¡­we just leave that?"


    "Yeah, it''ll be completely gone before sunrise," Ariana confirmed.


    We were all silent for a moment, then I looked up at Ariana. "I don''t think I''m getting any sleep tonight. Can I offer you a drink or something?"


    She smiled. "Well¡­I can''t stay long, I need to get back to Emrys. He gets into trouble when I''m not around, and that''s when he''s not negotiating with relatives. His family makes everything worse. But yeah, I can stay a few, and I wouldn''t mind something to wash that down with." She nodded towards the boar, which was starting to take on the appearance of a slowly melting painting.


    I swallowed a bit of bile. "That''s¡­rather Dali-esque."


    Ariana grunted. "Best not to watch. Come on, let''s go inside. I think you''d better call Margrave and arrange to get that gate fixed, too."


    "Wait," I said. "I just need to¡­" I felt drained, but there was one more spell I had to cast. I pulled myself together and re-cast the spells I''d used to build the barricade of wooden and iron spikes out of the trees and what was left of the gates.


    Gathering the material, I built it into a stronger, more solid barricade across the opening in the wall where the gates had stood. Or at least, I tried to.


    The iron seemed to flow like water, weaving through the wooden spikes as they formed posts, then connecting to what was left of the gate mounts in the wall on either side of the drive. But I was tired, and my control slipped at the end. The end result looked lopsided, had holes in it, and was wobbling a bit. I was wobbling a bit too, for that matter.


    But it stayed upright, and so did I. When Ariana shoulder-checked it a moment later, it barely moved.


    She nodded approvingly. "Not great, but a good effort. Especially considering you''re still new to this." She took a long look at me. "Come on, let''s get you inside. You look less steady than that barricade of yours."


    We turned and started walking towards the house, Ariana propping her sword on her shoulder. I noticed for the first time that she didn''t have its scabbard with her. She really must''ve come in a hurry. "Thank you again for coming. So, you know Margrave?"


    She smiled. "You''re welcome. And yeah. He and his people have been managing my finances since before Oakwood Hall was built. I wouldn''t trust anyone else to at this point."


    "You think he''ll be up at this hour?" I asked. "I''d hate to wake him."


    Ariana''s smile turned into a smirk. "Oh, he''ll be up. I don''t think he ever sleeps."

 Chapter 43

    "Why yes, Miss Reid, I can certainly get that taken care of for you," Margrave''s voice said over the phone. "Though I would advise you to reinforce the Hall''s outer wards as soon as possible, as it may take a day or two for me to arrange repairs to the wall and installation of a new gate."


    That was something that hadn''t occurred to me.


    Ariana, Sparkle, Ken and I were in my study, which was still the only place in the Hall with a phone. At least it was no longer a rotary phone, but a modern office phone¡­which was why Margrave was on the speaker instead of the handset. Once we''d established that Margrave was indeed still awake at nearly one o''clock in the morning, more than willing to help, and he''d exchanged polite greetings with Ariana, we''d dived right into the problem at hand.


    Seated across the desk from me, Ariana nodded and put down her steaming mug of coffee. "I didn''t think of that. Emrys usually takes care of that sort of thing for us. Can you handle it?"


    Pacing back and forth near the door, Ken grunted. "She can handle the basics, but nothing too complicated yet. I think I can walk her through reinforcing the outer wards though."


    "I would offer to send an expert in wards," Margrave said, "but your family has traditionally been very secretive about the Hall''s magical defenses. I feel it should probably stay that way."


    "I''ll handle it," I said, feeling a bone deep weariness creeping up on me. "Somehow. What about electronics for the gate? Security cameras, a remote opening system, that sort of thing?"


    "Excellent ideas, Miss Reid," Margrave said. "I approve wholeheartedly of adding mortal security to the Hall''s defenses. I shall make the necessary arrangements. I must point out, however, that you may be short on time. You said you believe this event to be related to one Bellinus von Einhardt, yes?"


    I sighed. "Honestly, Margrave, I can''t imagine anybody else who''d want to do this. He''s the only person outside of the Hall I''ve encountered since arriving that''s been less than friendly, and who''s been insisting on entry into the Hall since I first met him. He tried to mind control me twice, according to Sparkle - "


    "He did!" Sparkle confirmed from where she was leaning against the phone.


    " - and came close to losing his temper at the pub earlier this evening¡­last night¡­whatever. Hard to believe that was only a few hours ago. Margrave, do you know anything about von Einhardt?"


    "Summers & Winters no longer does any business with wizards of the International Consortium of Organized Arcana," Margrave said stiffly. "Collectively, they have proved themselves far too untrustworthy to continue a professional relationship with. Beyond that, our confidentiality clauses prevent me from sharing anything I may or may not know about the man. My sincerest apologies, Miss Reid, there is simply nothing I can tell you about him. I can, however, tell you that summoning a construct of the sort you described would leave even the most powerful and experienced of wizards too exhausted to do more for a day or two. Assuming he was involved, you have a bit of breathing room."


    "That''s good to know," I said, rubbing my eyes. "All right. Thank you, Margrave. I think that''s all for now."


    "Very good, Miss Reid. I shall see to the arrangements for repairing your front gates and adding mortal security measures. Expect to hear from me within a day or two."


    "Again, thank you, Margrave. I''ll speak with you soon." I waited until I heard the line click, then hung up myself and slumped back in my chair.


    Ariana finished her coffee. "If you''ll take my advice, kiddo¡­get a few hours of sleep, then get up and do what you can to buff up the wards."


    "Sound advice," Ken agreed, watching me with obvious concern. "You look exhausted, Caley."


    "It''s been a very long day," I said, feeling every minute of it.


    Ariana smiled and rose. "That sounds like my cue to go. Lord knows what kind of trouble Emrys will have gotten into while I''ve been here. Ken, if you''d be so kind as to direct me to the appropriate door?"


    Ken gave me a long, searching look, then nodded. "Of course. If you''ll just follow me..."


    Ariana paused in the doorway as Ken disappeared into the hallway beyond. "Get some sleep, Caley. Men like von Einhardt don''t wait to move any longer than they absolutely have to."


    I sighed heavily. "Thanks for coming to the rescue, Ariana. I''m not sure I could''ve done that without you."


    She flapped a dismissive hand at me. "You did the heavy lifting. Good night, Caley."


    "Good night, Ariana." As she closed the door behind her, I realized I was smiling. If Ariana Pendragon thought I had done all right, and wasn''t just being polite, odds were good I''d done pretty well.


    Sparkle flitted to the center of the desk blotter and looked up at me. "You look done in, Caley. Ariana was right, you should sleep while you can. Wadsworth and his clan will be hard at work stabilizing the wards right now, and you''ll need to be fresh to strengthen them."


    Rationally, I knew she was right. I could feel how drained I was after the complex spellcasting I''d done. Well...time would improve my stamina, practice would improve my skill, and experience would improve my response time.


    But who knew how fast von Einhardt would move. The Hall''s defenses were breached...moving now, before the gates could be repaired, would undoubtedly make it easier for him to get in...


    "Caley?"


    I came fully awake again with a start, realizing I''d slipped into a half-doze in my desk chair. "Yes...thank you, Sparkle. Bed is definitely the only reasonable destination right now. Come on."


    By the time I made it around my desk, Sparkle was in her teenage form and met me by the door. Instead of just walking beside me or taking my hand, she slipped under my arm as naturally as if I''d meant to do it myself, nestled against my side, and fell into perfect step with me.


    A few steps down the hall, I realized that her warmth and vibrancy was seeping into me from the contact, making me feel...not more awake, but at least more alert and steadier. Enough that I''d make it to my room without falling down exhausted, at least.


    "Thank you, Sparkle," I murmured, then kissed her cheek.


    She smiled at me, glowing warmly. "You''re very welcome, Caley."


    Even with her support, and in spite of the Hall graciously placing it only a few doors down the hall, I was drooping by the time we arrived at our bedroom. Sparkle got me undressed and into my night clothes, tucked me into bed, and I was asleep almost before my head hit the pillow.


    I was rudely awakened some indeterminate time later by the deep, discordant BONG of the Hall''s alarm. Its first peal jolted me fully awake, and had me swinging my bare feet out from under the blanket before I realized what was happening. Sparkle, who was still teen-sized and had apparently been cuddled up under the blanket with me, was likewise out of bed on the other side, looking startled.


    I ignored the fact that she was naked. Not only could I not blame her - I wouldn''t want to sleep in one of her dresses either - this wasn''t the time to either satisfy my curiosity about possible anatomical differences or to admire her body. Nor was it the right time for me to waste any portion of my brain wondering about my own sexual orientation.


    "That can''t be good," I said, giving my head a shake to clear it and heading for the closet.


    "No," she said from behind me, "definitely not."


    I''d barely made it to the closet when the bell sounded another resonant, slightly off-key BONG that practically had me leaping into jeans and pulling on a tunic (being the simplest articles of clothing I could lay hands on quickly). I stepped into a pair of trainers without bothering with socks, and headed for the door.


    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    Sparkle was already back in her purple silk fairy dress before I turned from the closet, and Ken was arriving from the hallway before I reached the door.


    "Wadsworth reports the wards are under attack again," Ken said without preamble. "More strongly this time."


    I paused for the briefest of moments to digest that. I felt alert and not as badly drained as I had earlier. "How long was I asleep?"


    "It''s just eight o''clock in the morning," Ken said. "So at least six hours."


    "I thought that - "


    I was interrupted by another discordant BONG...it really did sound like the TARDIS cloister bell, some part of my mind decided. By the time this one faded, I was out in the hall, walking for the front door at a good clip as I buckled my sword belt on over my tunic. I barely remembered grabbing it as I hurried out of my bedroom. Sparkle was trotting along beside me, my staff hugged to her chest, and Ken was drifting along ahead of us.


    "Boy," I said as I finished buckling the belt shut and threaded the loose end around the belt and into a knot the way Ken taught me, "that''s better than coffee."


    Ken gave himself a little shake. "Yes, the imperative to protect the Hall created by the bell are quite potent. One of your ancestors laid the enchantments on it herself, before my time. To be honest, I''m not even sure where in the Hall it is. This is actually only the fourth time I''ve experienced it."


    "I remember it ringing when the Hall went into lockdown after Mistress Chessie''s parents died," Sparkle said quietly. "Then its compulsions acted on us differently...I couldn''t leave Mistress Chessie''s side - not that I would have - while Ken and the brownies rushed around locking everything up."


    That was interesting. Was the Hall using that enchanted bell to communicate urgent instructions to us? Something to look into another time.


    We arrived at the front door. I took my staff from Sparkle, braced myself for whatever I might find, and stepped outside.


    The barricade I''d magically built from the remains of the gate and fallen trees obviously hadn''t been any kind of challenge. As I stepped out under the portico, von Einhardt''s black Bentley rolled to a halt on the far side of the wide drive. The front end looked scuffed and a bit battered, making me wonder if von Einhardt had just battered his way through the makeshift gate without magic.


    Sparkle moved to stand beside me, on my right, and gave me an encouraging - if rather nervous - smile. Behind me, unable to join us outside, Ken said, "Please be very careful, Caley."


    I glanced over my shoulder. "Try to reach Ariana and D.T., and maybe Margrave for good measure. Any help you can get here would probably be good."


    Ken nodded and vanished. In his wake, the front door slowly swung shut. I heard the lock engage, and felt a little better. While it might have cut off my best avenue of retreat, it would also keep von Einhardt out, and made a firm statement to that effect.


    I took my staff in my left hand and planted it firmly on the ground, leaving my right hand free to cast spells or draw my sword. Without another word, Sparkle and I squared off against the Bentley, standing just under the leading edge of the portico. The sky was obscured by ominous gray clouds, and it began to drizzle very lightly. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled.


    The driver''s door opened, and the man himself stepped out. He reached back in, pulled out his black felt homburg, neatly put it on his head, and gave it a bit of a tap to seat it in place. He collected his cane, hooked its head over his left arm, turned toward us, and took a few steps forward.


    "Your front gates appear to have had a difficult night," he said conversationally. Then he smirked, and it was an ugly, unpleasant expression. "You look a bit ragged around the edges yourself. Too much to drink at the pub, perhaps?"


    "I was up late learning about the attack on the Hall''s wards, and then dealing with a giant boar," I said dryly. "I don''t suppose you know anything about either of those events."


    His smirk widened for a moment, briefly flashing even white teeth in a predatory expression. "Oh yes, a great deal about them. In point of fact, I''ve made an extensive study of Oakwood Hall''s wards and observed how they''ve changed for more than a century. After straining them last night, and the damage my associate''s boar did to them and your gates, it was - at last - almost no effort at all to enter the grounds this morning."


    He''d given me four interesting pieces of information, probably intentionally and thinking them of no import: He was much older than he looked, which probably made him more dangerous than I''d thought; he''d been studying the Hall''s defenses since long before I was born; he had personally assaulted the wards the night before, after leaving the pub; and he hadn''t been the one to summon that giant boar, which meant he wasn''t as magically worn out as Margrave, Ken and Sparkle had expected.


    Or as magically worn out as I felt. Six hours of sleep without a meal at either end just hadn''t been enough rest. But I was on home ground, and he was not. That would have to be enough.


    Assuming it came to blows. There was an outside chance it wouldn''t, or that help would arrive in time to make him think twice about doing anything stupid.


    Yeah, right.


    Still, the longer I kept him talking, the more I stood to learn and the better a position I might be in. "I do hope your associate didn''t put too much effort into that boar. We made quick work of it."


    Von Einhardt made a dismissive gesture and, as I''d hoped, kept talking. Perhaps he was feeling full of himself this close to his goal. "My associate''s exhaustion doesn''t matter in the slightest, nor does any effort you had to put out to stop the beast. All that matters is that it did its job, and did it well. When I returned this morning, the wards were weak, and your gates destroyed."


    He smirked again and added, "And that barricade you raised was quite the pitiful effort. Still I suppose I should compliment you on being able to do it at all. I know young spellcasters who have studied magic for years without being able to do something like that by themselves."


    "Caley is going to be a superb spellcaster, and a fantastic Guardian!" Sparkle declared with a mixture of pride and anger.


    Von Einhardt looked amused. "Such an advocate you have. But befriending the servants? Perhaps instead of bludgeoning my way past you, I should offer to take you under my wing. Teach you proper behavior for your station."


    Sparkle huffed, so I touched her bare arm for a moment, trying to communicate without words that she needed to be patient and calm. It must have worked, because some of the tension left her and she took a half-step back.


    Von Einhardt seemed to appreciate that. He lowered his left arm, let the head of his cane fall into his hand, and planted the end of it on the ground. "Miss Reid," he said seriously, "there is no real reason for us to be at odds. I admit that some of my conduct has been...unfortunate. But I have been working on gaining entry to Oakwood Hall for longer than you can imagine, and your family has been uncommonly obdurate about allowing me entry."


    He paused for a moment before continuing, "You seem to be an intelligent and talented young woman...why can we not work together? Surely you wish to discover the secrets of your ancestral home, and there is more here than one person could learn in several lifetimes. Two working together might accomplish what one could not."


    He presented this offer as if it was the most logical and reasonable thing in the world, ignoring that he''d tried several times to take control of my mind, had assaulted the Hall''s wards, and had gotten someone to summon a giant boar to smash down the front gates. All so he could get access to Oakwood Hall.


    I understood - however imperfectly - that the Hall represented a tremendous amount of power. But what inside could he possibly be so eager to get at?


    I needed to keep him talking. Why not just ask?


    So I did.


    "If you don''t mind my asking," I said in the same polite, conversational tone he''d used, "what is it that you want to find in there?" Then, considering what I''d seen of the man so far, I added, "What could someone of your skill and means need so badly and with such urgency? If you''ve waited this long, why act so rash- "


    Before I could finish what I was saying, and before I knew what had happened, my back struck the wall beside the front door and I fell to my knees on the stone patio. My staff clattered to the ground beside me as I let go of it involuntarily.


    Then Sparkle was standing over me, between me and von Einhardt, her arms spread and her hands glowing with bright purple energy.


    "Fool girl!" von Einhardt spat. "You have no idea the vast wealth of power and knowledge your family has hoarded and wasted by not using it!" He actually shouted the last three words.


    As I rose to my knees, grabbed my staff, and pushed myself to my feet, he took a steadying breath and continued more calmly. "I have spent the last hundred and forty-seven years of my life studying everything there is to know about Oakwood Hall! What little we know of its contents and potential tell me that it cannot possibly just be a doorway to other places around this world. There must be more!"


    "So, what?" I asked, probably unwisely. "You''re just hungry for more power than you already have, and this looks like the best way to get it?"


    He slashed his free hand through the air in a dismissive gesture. "You cannot possibly be so naive as to believe that." He narrowed his eyes at me. "You know...or you''ve learned enough to suspect the truth of this place. Tell me what it is! Let me in, let me study it, let me learn to wield it, and I will let you share in the bounty."


    "Why should I?" I asked, ready now to throw up a shield if he attacked again. "It seems to me that I don''t need your help to do that, and after what you''ve done so far I can''t believe you expect me to trust you. Or to believe that''s all you want."


    That seemed to set him back on his heels for a moment, because he blinked in surprise. Then grunted. "Fair. I am no such fool." He narrowed his eyes. "I believe that Oakwood Hall contains within it somewhere the answer to two of the greatest mysteries in Human history: the true nature of the universe, and the secret of true immortality."


    My eyebrows went up in surprise.


    "Yes!" He said eagerly. "Let your curiosity bite into those!" He took a couple of steps forward, spreading his hands wide. "The greatest mysteries of all time, ours to solve! Just let me in!"


    Fire blossomed over his open right hand as he added, "Or I will simply destroy you and take what I need."


    "Why the urgency?" I asked again. "Why now?"


    "Irrelevant," he said dismissively. "Stand aside, or I will remove you from my path and tear down every wall of this miserable building until I find the answers."


    I set my feet and gathered energy. "I won''t."


    "Neither will I," Sparkle said firmly from where she still stood between us.


    For a moment, I was sure von Einhardt was about to just attack. Then he took a deep breath and let it out. "Killing you will slow me down, and I will need to wait another century before the time is right again..." He made a frustrated noise and glared at me. "If you will not be intimidated, there must be something I can offer you in trade..."


    "I doubt it," I said.


    He spat words in a language I didn''t recognize. Then a slow and entirely unpleasant smile spread across his face. "Yes, that''s what I can offer you. Give me entry to Oakwood Hall, and I will teach you how to raise your father and mother from the dead."

 Chapter 44

    My blood seemed to have frozen in my veins. "What?"


    Beside me, at the same time, Sparkle said, "What?" Then she added, "Caley, don''t listen to him. He''s talking about the darkest magics."


    "Pshaw," von Einhard said with a dismissive wave of his hand. I''d never actually heard someone say that out loud before. "There is no such thing as ''dark magic,'' you silly fairy. There is only power. Did you know that necromancy is close kin to healing magic? Learn one, and you can easily understand the other. They have the same base roots¡­manipulation of the human body."


    "One to heal, and one to defile," Sparkle spat. "You mortals think you understand what you''re doing to your souls while you toy with forces you barely comprehend."


    I glanced at her, and was surprised to see that she looked taller, stronger, and more¡­other¡­than before. Fey, in the truest sense of the word. Once again, I wondered just how much I''d underestimated my dearest companion and her kin.


    "Foolishness," von Einhardt said calmly. "The soul is an intellectual construct that humanity uses to grasp - dimly - the barest glimpse of true immortality."


    "Can we get back on topic?" I asked. "This is an interesting conversation, but I don''t think it''s getting us anywhere."


    Sparkle immediately backed down, becoming more like her usual self again. "Sorry, Caley. But what he''s suggesting is truly awful."


    "I don''t see why," von Einhardt said to Sparkle, then addressed me directly again. "I am offering to show you the path to having your parents back. How can that possibly be a bad thing?"


    I put my free hand on Sparkle''s shoulder and squeezed gently. "How?"


    She tensed a little, then relaxed again. Hopefully she understood that I was playing for time.


    Von Einhardt considered me for a long moment, then his eyes widened slightly in surprise. "You don''t know. You said you''d read your father''s journals¡­did he never mention his former Master?"


    "Once or twice," I said. "It didn''t sound like they got on very well."


    "That''s true," von Einhardt admitted with a nod. "After he came of age, he and I rarely saw eye to eye on anything. But he was a tremendously talented student, with the potential to be my equal in ways that his grandfather and father - my son and grandson - could never have accomplished." He sighed. "What a waste of time and effort."


    I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times, that cold feeling settling in the pit of my stomach again. "You''re¡­"


    Sparkle sucked in a sharp breath and put her hands over her mouth, eyes wide.


    "Your great-great-grandfather, yes," von Einhardt nodded, then gestured to the Hall. "When the ICOA heard rumors that the Hall was still occupied - that your mother was still alive - I volunteered James to make contact with her. ''They''re of an age'', I said. ''She''ll trust him where she wouldn''t trust someone older.''" He huffed in annoyance. "Then the boy went and fell in love with her on first sight, and took my order to draw her out as license to court her. Romantic twaddle.


    "But I didn''t know how badly wrong my plans had gone," he continued, "until I received a letter from the boy renouncing his family name and membership in the ICOA. He''d gone and married your mother, and had dedicated himself to her and the defense of this forsaken building. Can you believe the impudence?"


    That broke through the frozen feeling inside me, and made me smile faintly. "From what I''ve learned about my parents, I don''t have any trouble at all believing it."


    Von Einhardt smiled sourly. "No, I suppose not. Be that as it may, it took me several years to regroup and lay new plans, by which time you had been born, and I had another generation of difficulty to deal with. Your mother was easy enough to deal with during one of her many trips into Oakwood." His expression darkened. "And while I regret killing James, he was not the first descendant I was forced to deal with harshly. Offspring are far more trouble than they''re worth. Never again. With your family dead, I would have the secret of immortality, and be my own legacy down the ages.


    "But imagine my surprise when I learned that you," he practically spat the word at me, "had been made untouchable, and thus the Hall impenetrable. Did you know that Sister Sarah is an impressively skilled sorceress, as well as a nun?"


    I stared at him blankly. I''d had too many shocks in a short period¡­I was starting to not feel them.


    He nodded. "Oh yes. The Church pays lip service to the notion that magic is evil, while having a number of talented spellcasters within their own ranks. Your father sent you - and I''ll grant the boy his cleverness and quick thinking - to the one place I couldn''t touch you."


    Von Einhardt spread his hands, waving his cane vaguely. "So how can I give you back your parents? By the simple expediency of the fact that you are my blood, and they are your blood. I can teach you to use those connections to bring their souls back from whatever lies beyond death''s door. And all I ask in return is free access to Oakwood Hall."


    I opened my mouth, closed it again, and pretended to give it serious thought. Part of my brain actually did, too¡­but two thoughts quickly ran through my head. First, what Ken had said about negative elemental magics and how I''d probably never be able to use them¡­this sounded like something that fell into that category. Second, I felt a weird certainty that my parents would never have wanted me to have anything to do with such magic.


    I wasn''t sure why I was so certain of that, but I was as sure of it as I''d ever been of anything.


    Sparkle grasped my free hand in both of hers and whispered, "Caley, no! He''s talking about awful magics¡­"


    I squeezed her hands gently and then pulled mine free of them. "Sir¡­may I call you grandfather?"


    Von Einhardt considered that for a moment, then shrugged with practiced indifference. But there was a gleam in his eye that told me I''d struck the right chord. "As you will."


    Anything to buy myself a little more time. I was about to risk angering him again anyway, and I knew very well that there was really only one way this conversation was going to end. Anybody who could kill his own son, grandson, and great-grandson - and presumably accompanying family members - wasn''t anyone I would trust. Ever.


    I just needed to buy time for some sort of help to arrive. I suspected that I''d already bought all the time I could.


    "Grandfather," I began again, speaking carefully, "with all due respect, I find it difficult to believe that immortality is the only secret you''re looking for in the Hall. Ken has already taught me about several known ways to extend life. There must be something else within that you seek."


    That was a dramatic exaggeration¡­Ken had barely hinted at such things, and only recently. But von Einhardt didn''t know that.


    Beyond all hope, von Einhardt seemed intrigued by the question rather than angered by it. "Indeed? I wouldn''t have expected him to teach you such things. And yet¡­all spellcasters eventually come to the question ''How can I live longer, so that I can learn and do more?'' It is quite natural." He nodded to himself, then continued, "You are correct, there are many such ways. But they all have costs, and those costs are cumulative."


    He stroked his neatly trimmed beard thoughtfully. "But¡­again, you are correct, and very insightful. It is not merely that which I seek within Oakwood Hall. There are more pressing mysteries - "


    Behind me, I heard the front door unlock, open, and Ken said urgently, "Caley, I reached both Ariana and D.T., they''re on their - "


    "Close the door!" I shouted.


    "Impudent whelp!" von Einhardt spat, and threw fire at me.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    I blocked the gout of fire. So much for keeping him talking.


    Sparkle darted to the right and out from under the portico, hurling cricket ball-sized bolts of purple energy at von Einhardt, as I summoned spikes of ice and sent them whistling toward him. He deflected our attacks with an invisible shield and flicked the fingers of his free hand in my direction. I felt an invisible force scoop me up and fling me backward again, and I slammed into the front door just as it finished closing.


    Then he turned and swept his cane in a semi-circular arc in Sparkle''s direction. She yelped in surprise as she was yanked into the air, her latest bolt of energy going wide and blowing a hole in the lawn some distance away. Then she was slammed into the side of von Einhardt''s Bentley hard enough to leave a significant dent, and dropped bonelessly to the drive. There was a flash of purple light, and she was back in her tiny, natural form, sprawled unmoving on the ground.


    I felt the anguished cry escape me before I could stop it. "Sparkle!" I couldn''t tell if she was just unconscious, or¡­worse. Fear and anger exploded in me.


    Struggling to my feet, I gathered power and hurled a bolt of lightning at von Einhardt. It was the first time I''d ever cast that spell without a verbal focus, but you never would have known it¡­the focused and blindingly bright bolt of electricity split the air between us with a crack as thunder rumbled somewhere overhead.


    Von Einhardt caught it on a shield of force, and looked startled when the power of the impact actually drove him back a step. "That wasn''t bad at all. You do have potential girl¡­but you will either let me in, or you will die this day."


    Not only was I well and truly convinced that he would kill me either way, there was no way I was going to stand aside. I set myself firmly between him and the front door. "In the immortal words of another wizard¡­You shall not pass!"


    I planted my staff on the pavement and used it to gather energy, then summoned more foot-long slivers of ice around me, a dozen of them in total. Without another word, I began flinging them at him one after another in quick succession.


    They shattered on his transparent shield, before he was forced to turn and take a few steps back and to his right as I turned the water on the ground into expanding spikes of ice that rose at angles from the ground around him and tried to skewer him. They broke on his shield, but he was battered this way and that by the impacts for a moment before a wave of force rolled out from him, shattering them and rocking his Bentley on its wheels.


    The wave of force would have struck me as well, but I created a matching wedge of force centered on my staff and used that to create a safe spot for me to stand in by diverting the invisible wave around me. The lamps on either side of the door and the ground lights on either side of the portico were crushed by it as a result.


    Von Einhardt nodded. "An elegant defense. Killing you will be a waste¡­but a small one, compared to what I can achieve once you''re dead."


    I threw a second bolt of lightning at him¡­but even before I felt the wave of exhaustion and dizziness roll over me in its wake, I knew it was weaker. He side-stepped it and let it blow a hole the size of my fist in the rear panel of his Bentley. I tried to gather more power, and could almost feel it slipping through my fingers. I was still tired from the day before, and it was catching up to me quickly.


    "Your stamina is lacking, child," he said condescendingly. "You may have learned a great deal about magic in a short time, but it will take longer than you''ve had to build up the magical stamina to stand up to someone like me in a fight. I offer you one last chance to live: Let me in, and I will teach you such things¡­"


    Fortunately, Ken had been teaching me other ways of defending myself. I drew my smallsword.


    Von Einhardt laughed. "How dramatic! You have become more amusing than annoying. Very well¡­" He twisted the head of his cane and whipped out a slender blade. "En garde!"


    A sword cane. Of course he had a sword cane. And he probably knew how to use that blade better than I did.


    Nothing for it. I walked out from under the portico and into the rain.


    Our blades met, and for a long minute we exchanged ringing blows in the light mist, footwork taking us closer to his Bentley, then back towards the portico, then back towards his Bentley. As I''d suspected, he knew how to fence very well.


    I wasn''t about to let that hold me back, though. Not when Ken had drummed into me to use every advantage I possessed when fighting in earnest. So I used my staff to whack one of von Einhardt''s shins.


    He hopped back and glared at me. "That wasn''t very sporting of you," he taunted. "What happened to the Code Duello? Did you never learn it?"


    "Only as an element of history," I said politely. "I was taught practical swordsmanship, not fancy dueling."


    "Wise," von Einhardt said with a nod. Then his face darkened, and he snapped a word in a language I didn''t recognize as he swung the scabbard part of his sword cane at me.


    I easily blocked the blow with my staff¡­which instantly shattered, spraying me with splinters. I staggered back and bounced off of one of the portico''s columns, staring dumbly at the fragments of white waxwood falling all around me. The phoenix staff-topper came to rest face-down near where Sparkle was still sprawled, unmoving.


    I''d barely even learned how to use it properly. Sparkle¡­


    I set von Einhardt back on his heels with a flurry of attacks that he quickly worked to parry as my anger boiled over. Then he regained his equilibrium and we came to a halt, exchanging a few more blows as he calmly said, "Anger can be a powerful tool, girl. But an equally crippling impediment."


    Then he shattered my sword the same way he destroyed my staff.


    I tossed aside the useless hilt and settled into a fighting stance, ready to try hand-to-hand. Instead, he jabbed me in the stomach with the blunt end of his sword-cane''s sheath, knocking the breath out of me and doubling me over. His cane came up and cracked against my jaw painfully, snapping my head back and sending me reeling. I felt something hook my feet, and went over backwards, landing hard and banging the back of my head on the drive.


    I saw stars, and lost track of everything as my head swam. I gave my head a shake to clear it, and discovered what a terrible - and painful - mistake that was. Everything went black for a moment.


    When I opened my eyes again it was to a fresh peal of thunder, dark clouds overhead, and the feel of something cold and sharp pressing up under my chin.


    Von Einhardt stood over me, the tip of his short rapier lightly grazing a point beneath my jaw on the right side. He smiled. "Ordinarily, child, I would simply eradicate you. I know spells that would erase you from the world as quickly and painlessly as if you had never existed at all." His eyes darkened and his cold smile turned into an angry sneer. "But you have been an inordinately frustrating thorn in my side!"


    There was another crack of thunder, and it began to rain. Not a gentle rain, or a hard rain¡­just a cold, steadily soaking rain.


    I tipped my chin up, refusing to let him see how afraid I was. Even so, my voice was raw and quavery. "It seems to me, Grandfather," I said the word with all the disgust and hate I could muster, "that your descendants have been nothing but thorns in your side."


    He snorted derisively. "Truth. My son was an ungrateful wretch who wanted to steal my power from me. His son was soft and refused to follow in my footsteps. I killed him and took his son - your father - to raise as my own child. And how was I repaid? He fell in love, married, had a child. And you..."


    He trailed off into silence and glared down at me, then whipped the blade away from my throat and kicked me. His foot caught me in my ribs, sending me rolling across the gravel. I stopped just short of the portico.


    I cried out as he kicked me. I didn''t want to, but couldn''t help it; I was battered, bruised and exhausted. I wasn''t a fighter. I barely knew how to defend myself. I was drenched to the skin, my jeans and tunic clinging to my skin unpleasantly in the chill rain.


    Sparkle had been hurt, maybe killed, and I''d failed to protect my new home. Despair flooded me, and I had to choke down a sob.


    "You," von Einhardt continued, "Are a half-trained whelp barely aware of your own potential. And yet you still cause me no end of grief." He advanced on me, the rain running off the brim of his hat as he slashed the air with his short rapier. "For nearly two hundred years I have tried to gain control of the nexus your family has been so hell-bent on keeping anyone from using. So I will kill you slowly. I will run you through and watch you bleed out, lying practically within arm''s reach of help. Then I will batter down the Hall''s defenses and take what I need - "


    As he raised the rapier over his head to bring it around and plunge it into me, a stone hand grasped the blade with an odd grating sound.


    Everything fell silent except for the rain and the wind. From somewhere overhead, thunder rumbled and a flash of lightning rippled across the clouds.


    Von Einhardt looked up, bewildered, to stare at the stone gargoyle that crouched atop the leading edge of the portico. It had leaned forward and down, the talons of its left hand grasping the edge of the portico for balance, while its right held the blade immobile.


    Von Einhardt blinked in blank incomprehension.


    "The Hall," a boy''s voice called from nearby. "The Hall will protect you, as you protect it!"


    Instinctively, I reached out and slapped my left hand against the stone of the pillar beside me. I was immediately overwhelmed by a rush of emotions that weren''t my own; fear that I would be lost, wistful longing to be able to release Ken to assault the intruder, affection for the young woman who had barely been there long enough to learn about.


    And, so strong it practically swamped the rest, rage. Rage that this interloper, who had killed two of its previous Guardians, would attempt to do so again. It would not allow it. It would help me.


    I felt strength return to my muscles, energy flowing into me through my hand where it touched the stone of the Hall. Understanding followed, why the Hall had done what it had.


    Without releasing my contact with the Hall, I extended my right hand. I visualized the effect I wanted to create, just the way Ken had taught me. I gathered energy from my direct contact with the Hall, and shouted a single word. When it emerged from my throat, my voice was barely recognizable as my own, booming and stentorian. It seemed to echo off the house and off the clouds themselves.


    "FULMINIS!"


    I wasn''t sure which came first, the blinding flash of light, the snap of electricity and smell of ozone, or the explosion of thunder. The bolt of lightning that streaked down from the sky was stronger than anything I had dreamed of being able to do. It struck the tip of von Einhardt''s sword and grounded through him.


    He was blown backwards through the air and crashed into the back door of his Bentley, not far from where Sparkle lay. His clothes, I noticed, were on fire even in the drenching rain.


    I flopped onto my back. My side, stomach, and jaw all ached abominably, and I felt completely drained. The last thing I saw before blacking out again was the concerned face of Emrys Hawkins bending over me and a flash of steel as Ariana stalked past.


    Better late than never.

 Chapter 45

    I couldn''t have been out for very long, because it was still raining when I opened my eyes again, and Emrys was just pulling me into a sitting position against one of the portico''s columns.


    "There you are," he said cheerily. "Welcome back! That was quite a bolt of lightning, if I do say so myself, and I''m something of an expert." He winked.


    "Thank the gods," Ken''s voice said from nearby. "Caley, are you all right?"


    I turned my head to the right slowly - my neck felt stiff and horrid - and saw him with his hands pressed against the invisible barrier that prevented him from passing through the front door. Above me, there came a weird grinding of stone as the gargoyle atop the portico once more settled into its crouch with its wrists resting across its knees.


    Its right hand, I noticed, was missing, and the stump of its wrist looked melted. I''d have to get that fixed. Or fix it myself with magic.


    "I..." My voice broke when I tried to speak. My throat felt raw. "I th-think so..."


    The chill of the rain was starting to sink into me again, making me shiver and setting my teeth to chattering a little. Emrys made a flourishing gesture with his hands and a waterproof cloak appeared out of thin air, which he draped over me. "There now. Have a good look."


    He helped me shift, and I saw Ariana standing over von Einhardt''s blackened remains, the flames just succumbing to the rain and smoldering pitifully.


    "D-did I do that?" I asked, feeling as dazed as I probably sounded.


    "You did, Caley," Ken replied. "I''m very proud of you."


    He was proud that I had killed a man. No, that wasn''t right...he was proud that when push came to shove, I had been able to follow his teachings and defend myself. With a little help.


    I reached up and touched the portico''s column, feeling a wave of affection and relief from the Hall as I did so. I patted the pillar gently and murmured, "Thank you."


    I closed my eyes for a moment as my arm dropped to my lap again. Aside from various aches and pains, the only thing I felt was exhausted relief that it was over. There was no room in me at that moment for regret or remorse, no disgust with myself at having taken a human life. Just relief. I wondered what that said about me, then decided to table that line of thought until I''d had some rest.


    The crunch of boots on gravel made me open my eyes again, just in time for Ariana to crouch down in front of me. She held out her hands cupped around something, and when I held mine out, she gently deposited Sparkle''s limp little body in them. As I cradled her in my hands, her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at me, blinking dazedly. "Caley? Is it over? Did I get him?"


    Ariana chuckled softly and hunkered down beside us in the rain, smiling. "It''s over, Sparkle¡­and Caley got him. She got him good."


    Running footsteps made us all turn and look up to see D.T., in full police foul-weather regalia, sprinting down the drive toward us. She skidded to a halt on the gravel and stared at the Bentley and the still-smoking corpse beside it, then slowly walked the rest of the way to us, eyeing Ariana and Emrys warily. "I got a call from someone named Ken who said I had to get here ASAP. The front gate is a disaster¡­I couldn''t even pull my car in. What the hell happened, and who are these two?"


    I smiled tiredly. "Constable D.T. Burroughs, meet Ariana Pendragon and Emrys Hawkins."


    Ariana rose and offered a hand. "Constable."


    "Pendragon?" D.T. asked, shaking her hand uncertainly. "Like¡­"


    Ariana glanced at me.


    I smiled. "She''s been read in, as the saying goes."


    "Like King Arthur, yes," Ariana said. "My father."


    D.T. nodded dazedly, then looked at Emrys. "Emrys." She narrowed her eyes. "Like M- "


    He held up a warning finger. "Don''t say it. Yes, precisely."


    Ariana snickered.


    "It''s a perfectly good pseudonym!" Emrys protested, then gestured at D.T.. "She''s at least part Welsh, I can hear it in her accent, and you told her who you are. It''s not fair!"


    Sparkle giggled, which started me giggling, and in a moment all of us were laughing¡­D.T. included.


    D.T. sobered first, turning to look at the remains of von Einhardt and the black Bentley. "Well," she said, "this needs to get swept under the rug double-quick. I know a guy who knows a guy who can deal with the car¡­"


    "I''ll take care of the human remains," Emrys said, rising. "If you''ll take Caley inside?"


    "Help me up," I said.


    Ariana and D.T. got me by the elbows and helped me to my feet. I wavered a bit as the world wobbled, and my head and ribs throbbed unpleasantly.


    Sparkle made an unhappy sound. "I''m too tired to heal you, Caley, but as soon as I''ve rested a bit I can."


    They kept me steady to the door, where Ken was now waiting with a stack of large bath towels. "I''ve laid a fire in the kitchen, and have a kettle on." He took the cloak and wrapped one of the towels around my shoulders as I came in, deftly wrapping Sparkle in a little hand towel before offering a second bath sheet to Ariana, who took it and began toweling her hair.


    "Thank you," I said softly to him.


    He shook his head, visibly frustrated. "When you needed me, I was unable to come to your aid."


    "But you did," I replied firmly. "You brought help. And without your training, I wouldn''t have been able to do any of what I did today. It may have been a near thing, but I was able to defend the Hall today, and that''s down to what you taught me."


    The tension and distress on his face melted away as I spoke, and he smiled a little. "You''re welcome, Caley."


    D.T. had stayed just outside the door, staring in at the impossible foyer beyond. I smiled. "Come in, D.T., and get dried off and warmed up."


    She did, slowly, as if she expected the room - or maybe the whole Hall - to vanish in a puff of illogic. Then she jumped a little as Ken drifted over and offered her a towel.


    He smiled. "Ken, Caretaker of Oakwood Hall, at your service. Thank you for taking my call, and thank you for coming."


    D.T. stared at him for a long moment¡­then poked a finger into his chest, exactly the same way I had when I met him.


    He sighed. Ariana laughed and Sparkle giggled. I just smiled and said, "Yes, he''s a ghost."


    "Basically," Ken added.


    D.T. stared at him for a moment longer, then thrust her fists in the air with a cheer of, "Yes! Ghosts are real!" She did a little dance, then started shedding her rain gear, which Ken collected and hung on a coat tree by the door as she dried herself off.


    Ten minutes later, Emrys had joined us and we were sitting around the small kitchen table by the fireplace, which D.T. was still glancing admiringly at every so often. We all had mugs of steaming tea, and had put a serious dent in a plate of sandwiches that Ken had delivered to the table.


    Sparkle was sprawled on a plate that had briefly contained a half-dozen chocolate chip cookies. She had immediately devoured three of them before connecting herself to the Master Key and doing something that had healed most of my injuries. I still felt tired and achy, but my ribs, throat, and head no longer hurt, and all of the tiny cuts I''d had from splinters of wood and steel were gone.


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Emrys had been very impressed. Sparkle had promptly returned to the plate to devour the other three cookies before sprawling out.


    "So," D.T. said, "let me see if I have this straight. After we chased him out of the pub last night, von Einhardt came here and knocked on the wards, had an unidentified associate of his summon a giant boar to batter down the front gates, and then rolled up in his now-damaged but still stupidly expensive classic Bentley a few hours later to demand entry."


    I nodded and sipped my tea. "Right so far."


    "Ken," D.T. continued, "who cannot leave the Hall¡­" She glanced at him for confirmation, and when he nodded regretfully she resumed, "called Ariana and myself for help, while von Einhardt beat the stuffing out of you." She nodded to me.


    I grimaced. "I did my best, but he was at least eight times my age. I''m pretty sure I didn''t stand any kind of chance, and he was just toying with me."


    "Quite likely," Emrys said, and plucked a third sandwich from the pile.


    Ariana rolled her eyes. "You keep eating like that, and I''ll be rolling you from place to place."


    "I''m a growing boy," he protested.


    "Yeah, about that¡­" D.T. said, diverted.


    Emrys sighed. "Look, every so often I retreat to a safe place to rest and regenerate. I age just like everybody else, but I can reverse it with a few months of meditation. Well¡­this time I really got into the meditation, and stayed in it too long. Woke up as a teenager. It sucks. But in a couple more years I''ll be completely legal again and done with all the hormones."


    "Until then, he''s a menace," Ariana said without any malice, then reached over and ruffled his hair.


    "Gerrof!" He said around a mouthful of sandwich, swatting at her hand.


    D.T. rolled her eyes and forced herself back on topic. "Anyway¡­with the Hall''s help, Caley caused von Einhardt to do a very creditable impersonation of a charcoal briquette, and we all arrived too late to do anything except help with the cleanup."


    "That''s the long and short of it," I said with a nod. I had carefully left out the revelation about von Einhardt being my great-great-grandfather. It wasn''t something any of them needed to know¡­though I suspected Emrys - and maybe Ariana - already did. They''d both had that look about them as I was explaining what happened that said they knew I was leaving something out.


    They hadn''t pushed, thank goodness. I needed a lot more time to process the information before I talked to anyone about it.


    Emrys said something that sounded like "Brf bddy," then put a hand over his mouth and held up one finger as Ariana made a disgusted face. He finished chewing, swallowed, and said, "The body has been removed from the premises and dealt with. There are no traces of von Einhardt for anyone to find, except his really quite lovely old Bentley."


    "If we can get what''s left of the front gate removed," D.T. said, "I''ll get the car towed to the nearest impound, and it''ll disappear in a couple of days."


    Ariana gave her a long look. "That''s an interesting thing for a police constable to offer."


    D.T. smirked. "I''m the Oakwood constable. Things are weird here."


    "And we mostly like it that way," I said, reaching over and patting her hand on the table. "Thanks, D.T.."


    She smiled. "No charge, Caley. It won''t be the first time a piece of potentially troublesome or embarrassing evidence has disappeared from impound or an evidence locker." She frowned. "Which¡­honestly, says something not very good about the police." She sighed. "Still, at least it''s for a good cause this time." She looked at Ariana. "Anyway, I may not be a constable for much longer. They stuck me out here because I''ve been on the fence about the job. Might as well use up the favors I''m owed while I can."


    "Ah," Ariana nodded. "I understand that. I''ve gone through phases where I couldn''t stand my work." She smiled a little. "Stick with it, if you can¡­protecting people is a difficult line of work, but a rewarding one. Especially if you can stay here in Oakwood."


    "Anyway," Emrys said, "with a bit of repair work, that Bentley is still a lovely old automobile. Shame to dispose of it."


    Ariana turned a very serious stare on him. "What happens when the ICOA finally decide to make proper contact with Caley and discover the vehicle on the grounds?"


    Emrys shifted and looked embarrassed. "Ah. Yes, well¡­clearly I didn''t think that one through." He sighed. "Constable Burroughs, don''t trouble yourself on this matter. I''ll deal with the vehicle shortly, and there will be no trace of it left to find. Terrible shame to remove such a classic from the world, but¡­" He trailed off mid-sentence and frowned. "Bother. It occurs to me that someone like von Einhardt may have¡­excuse me." He rose and hurried out of the kitchen.


    The rest of us, as one, turned our gazes on Ariana, who shrugged. "Just because I''ve been working with him on and off for centuries doesn''t mean I understand him any better. Not only does he rarely share what''s actually going on in his head, I''m not entirely certain he''s completely sane to begin with. He''ll tell us what occurred to him in due time¡­or won''t, as he will."


    D.T. looked uneasy. "I''m not comfortable with that thought."


    "Nor am I," Ken admitted.


    Ariana sighed and wrapped her hands around her tea mug. "You get used to it. He means well."


    We sat in silence for a moment before D.T. said, "If you don''t mind my asking, what do you two do?"


    Ariana smiled. "We travel. There are a lot of supernatural threats in the world¡­monsters, demons, spellcasters who manage to fly under the ICOA''s radar¡­when they become problems, we deal with them. As many as we can, at least. I''m sure there''s plenty more that we don''t manage to deal with, and people we never even know are in danger, but we do what we can. It keeps me going, and puts a positive spin on a curse that might otherwise have driven me mad." She idly patted the hilt of her sheathed sword, which leaned against the table beside her.


    Then she gestured over her shoulder at the door. "And I try to keep that one out of trouble."


    From somewhere outside, there was a loud bang and the sound of a teenager swearing in Welsh.


    Ariana pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed heavily. Then she stood up, collected her sword, murmured, "Excuse me," and left the kitchen.


    D.T. looked at me, then up at Ken, then stared down at her mug. "I feel like I should be running one or both of them into the station for something, but I can''t imagine what."


    Ken chuckled softly. "From some of the stories I''ve heard, I believe that''s a normal police response to them. But they seem to do a lot of good in the world."


    I smiled at D.T.. "You said you were looking for a bit of weirdness in your life."


    "You, Sparkle, Ken and Oakwood Hall would''ve been quite sufficient, thank you," she said, then drained the remains of her tea. "I''d best get back to work. Obviously I can''t file any of this officially, but I''m glad you called anyway. Even if I didn''t get here in time to help in any meaningful way."


    "You came," I said, "and helped pick up the pieces. That''s a lot in my book."


    She smiled and rose¡­and to my surprise, Sparkle picked herself up and flitted up onto D.T.''s shoulder to whisper in her ear. D.T. looked shocked for a moment, then blushed and cleared her throat. "Yes, well¡­thank you, Sparkle."


    Sparkle flitted back down to the table and curtsied, smiling impishly.


    "Do I want to know?" I asked.


    D.T. shook her head. "Probably not." She hesitated. "Are you sure you don''t want me to run you to the hospital to get checked over? If you hit your head¡­"


    "I used the¡­the¡­" Sparkle made a frustrated noise and looked at Ken.


    "Sympathetic link," Ken offered.


    She nodded. "Yeah, that. I used that through Caley''s collar to heal her once I was rested."


    "Fairies recover stamina faster than humans," Ken said.


    "We have very fast meh¡­mehbat¡­" Sparkle stumbled over the word.


    I smiled. "Metabolisms?"


    "Yeah!" Sparkle said, and sat back down on her empty plate.


    D.T. chuckled. "All right, then. See you soon?" She asked me.


    "I don''t know that I''ll be up to jogging for a few days," I said, "even with Sparkle''s healing. And there''s work to be done getting new gates installed, modern security, I have to figure out how to repair the wards¡­"


    D.T. nodded, and I thought she looked a bit disappointed.


    "Why don''t you come by for breakfast tomorrow morning?" I asked. "Ken always serves more than I can possibly eat, even with Sparkle''s help. Half-past seven?"


    D.T.''s smile returned. "That sounds great. I''ll see you then."


    Ken drifted after her. "I''ll see you out, Constable."


    "Please," she said as they left the kitchen together, "call me D.T.. What are you made of, exactly?"


    Ken chuckled and closed the door behind them.


    Comfortable silence settled over the room, and I sipped my tea, ignoring my aches and pains in the secure knowledge that they''d be gone before too much longer. I glanced down at Sparkle, who was watching me, and smiled. "Told her I might be interested, did you?"


    Sparkle''s impish smile brought out adorable dimples. "Maybe." She drew out the end of the first syllable, then giggled.


    "Convenient, that," I said. Well, there''d be time enough to figure it out now.


    At which point it really sank in that von Einhardt was no longer a looming shadow on my horizon. Undoubtedly, the ICOA would come looking for him at some point¡­either following his trail, or to formally make contact with the new Guardian of Oakwood Hall. But I would deal with that when it happened, and there was nothing that said I''d have to let them in.


    There was the lingering question of von Einhardt''s mystery associate, who''d summoned the boar¡­but somehow I didn''t think I had much to fear from that one with von Einhardt himself gone. Heck, I didn''t even know if they actually existed. Von Einhardt might''ve made it up to cover his own exhaustion, and that was why he''d toyed with me rather than just turning me into a smear on the front door.


    If he''d really been that powerful in the first place. Who knew how many lies he''d told me.


    I sighed. Too many unknowns. At some point, perhaps I''d find a way to separate the truth from falsehoods. For now, the important thing was that the man was no longer a danger to me, to Sparkle, or to the Hall.


    Still, it would be wise to keep my eyes and ears open. And maybe see what - if anything - I could learn about my father''s ancestry.


    Ken came back in then. "Emrys would like to raise new gates for the Hall before he and Ariana leave, and asks that you assist with that before you collapse. He can''t help with the wards, but just closing the wall would go a long way towards restoring the Hall''s security."


    "That," I said as I pushed myself to my feet, "sounds like an excellent idea."


    The gates that Emrys and I transfigured out of the remains of the old ones - and some materials that Emrys summoned from somewhere - were more elegant than what had been there, with swirling abstract designs running between the vertical bars. The oak leaf and ivy crest in the center of the gates now had a stylized phoenix rising behind them, its wings spread protectively.


    After that, Ariana and Emrys departed, promising to visit whenever they had time. Sparkle led me to our bedroom, and we collapsed into bed together. Once again, I was asleep almost before my head hit the pillows.


    This time there were no threats looming. With Sparkle there to keep the nightmares away, nothing disturbed my sleep.

 Chapter 46

    The next week was, frankly, a bit crazy.


    It started not long after I woke up the next morning. Sparkle, bless her, was so exhausted that she didn''t even hear me wake up for once. She remained dead to the world, snoring softly (and rather musically) in her night light hanging above my bed as I staggered into the bathroom for a long, hot shower.


    Which was interrupted after far too short a time by a polite knock at the bathroom door and Ken''s slightly muffled voice saying, "Sorry to interrupt, but D.T. has arrived for breakfast. I showed her into the kitchen and made her a cup of coffee. Shall I say when you''ll be down?"


    I turned off the shower and called back, "Twenty minutes. Ten if you come back and dry my hair."


    "I shall return anon," he proclaimed grandly, and I heard the bedroom door close.


    Halfway through having my hair dried and braided, I woke up enough for thoughts to start trickling through my brain and said, "Oh bugger. Margrave thinks the gate still needs to be fixed. Let D.T. know I''ll be delayed a few minutes?"


    Ken finished plaiting my hair and headed for the door, smiling. "Of course, Caley."


    Sparkle yawned and stretched. "Would it be okay if I had breakfast with the fairies instead?"


    I smiled. "Of course, Sparkle. Don''t forget to refill the soda feeders, and why don''t you take a plate of cookies out for them."


    She was instantly in her teenage form beside the bed and heading for the door. "Okay!"


    "Sparkle," I said gently.


    She turned and smiled at me. "Yes?"


    "You might want to get dressed first."


    I myself dressed in jeans and a green silk blouse - either the Hall was willing to bend on fashion only so far, or I just loved the feel of silk against my skin too much for it to give me anything more casual yet - and hurried to my office. There, I placed a call Margrave and let him know that new front gates had been taken care of, and that now all I needed was some modern security equipment. He assured me that an installation team would arrive that very day, and politely didn''t ask any questions about the new gates.


    Then I hurried down to the kitchen, where D.T. was just tucking into a pair of Belgian waffles covered with blueberries and strawberry slices. Ken slid a matching plate onto the table across from her just as I entered the room.


    "Bless you, Ken," I said as I sat down. "And good morning, D.T.."


    She smiled, saluted me with her fork, swallowed, and then said, "Ken, these are delicious."


    Ken, standing by the stove, bowed politely. "Thank you."


    "Sparkle blew through a few minutes ago," D.T. said as Ken brought a plate of bacon to the table. "She firmly ordered the refrigerator to give her two bottles of soda and a plate of chocolate chip cookies, collected them from said refrigerator, kissed my cheek and said something about the fairies in the clearing, and was gone again before I could say two words."


    I laughed. "She''s very excitable."


    "You have a magic refrigerator?" She asked, spearing another bite of waffle on her fork.


    I gave her a whimsical smile. "D.T., everything in this house is magical in some way, even if it''s not literal magic. But yes, I have a magic refrigerator."


    "And the fairies in the clearing?" D.T. asked.


    So I explained about the clearing outside my bedroom window, and my clan of fairies. Or, rather, I explained as much as I could, since there was still quite a bit I didn''t understand myself.


    "Now that sounds like a sight to see," D.T. said with a grin.


    "Once they''re completely settled in and have gotten comfortable, I''ll invite you ''round to meet them," I replied.


    Then our breakfast was interrupted by the arrival of the security team from Summers & Winters, who were almost falling over themselves in their eagerness to figure out the best way to secure the grounds. D.T. bid me an amused farewell and wished me luck before heading back into town and leaving me to the security team''s tender mercies.


    She did promise to come back in a day or two to give their installation a once-over, which made me feel better about the whole thing. I knew nothing about modern security equipment, and she did. It''s always good to have an expert available.


    Fortunately, the security team was led by a friendly young man who appeared to be about my own age. Once he had his team - a dozen men and women all of whom looked perfectly normal to me - crawling along the wall and pulling out installation tools and gear that might as well have been from a Science Fiction movie for all I knew about them, he wandered over to where I was standing and offered me his hand.


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    At which point I noticed that his ears were pointed like Sparkle''s, only a bit more subtle.


    "Doyle Winterborne," he said. His eyes were a bright shade of amber, and when I shook it his hand felt warm in mine. He was wearing jeans and a polo shirt with the Winterborne Security logo in an oval on the left breast. "My company is a subsidiary of Summers & Winters¡­any work we do for you is covered under their security contracts. Nothing we see, hear, or do here will be documented for or spoken of to anyone except you."


    "Good to know," I said. "Caitlyn Reid. Call me Caley. Are you¡­?" I gestured to his ears.


    He beamed. "I''m a changeling. Half-Sidhe, on my father''s side. Dad works for Summers & Winters, so I built the security company as an extension of their available services."


    I parked the concept of changelings in the back of my mind to ask Ken and Sparkle about later and nodded. "Sounds like a natural growth opportunity. Do you think this is do-able?"


    Doyle turned back to the gates and wall, and nodded seriously. "No problem at all, really. We''ll put an obvious camera at the gates, along with a couple of more discrete ones on both sides facing the gates to get full coverage. Cameras at each corner of the property and at intervals along the walls set up the same way - obvious and discrete - will cover visible security. We''ll install a remote control system for the gates¡­that''ll take a bit more doing, but it''s not terribly hard. That plus an intercom will make it easier for you to know who''s out here and decide if you want to let them in or not.


    "We''ll also install an alarm system tied to the gates and wall with a mix of motion and pressure sensors," he continued, folding his arms as he stared at the gates. "That''ll report to a master control panel inside the Hall, as well as alerting the local police if it goes off." He looked at me. "I understand we''re not allowed in the Hall to do the interior installation?"


    I nodded. "Sorry. It''s¡­weird. If it''s a lot of gear, I''ll just have you wheel it into the foyer and leave it there."


    He shrugged. "We''ll get everything set up out here. These days it''s mostly wireless anyway, so there''s no digging to install conduits and wires or anything like that." He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Nothing to interfere with the wards that way." He straightened again and said in a normal voice, "You have an interior specialist to set up everything inside?"


    I hesitated, then nodded. I suspected that work was mostly done by the Brownies, but I wasn''t certain and I wasn''t supposed to mention them.


    My nod was apparently enough. He smiled and nodded in return. "Enough said, then. And before you say anything, don''t worry, I don''t take it personally. You''re far from the first client for whom we''ve had to do things this way."


    "That''s good to know," I said earnestly. "It makes me feel a bit less weird."


    Doyle beamed at me. "We say eccentric, but never weird." He winked. "I''ll get to it. If you have other things to do, we''ll probably be out here most of the day. Maybe two or three, depending on how long a setup it turns out to be." He grinned. "Margrave said to give you the works."


    And they really did. They were there for three days getting all manner of things I didn''t understand set up. I recognized surveillance cameras when I saw them, but there were other, more sophisticated devices installed and well-hidden, that I didn''t recognize. Doyle explained that they were different types of security cameras, microphone pickups, sound and motion-sensitive devices, and so on¡­but I''m afraid I tuned out a bit during the explanation.


    It was enough to know that they were there and would work. I had other things to deal with, spending most of those three days sequestered with Ken, Wadsworth and Dora, learning about the Hall''s magical wards and how I could go about fixing and strengthening them. It was a lot, eating up all of my time during the day and spilling over into Ken''s magic lessons while I slept.


    A 72-hour crash course in ward construction.


    When Winterborne Security was done, the pile of equipment left to be setup inside was impressive. Doyle and two of his people carted the stuff into the foyer, taking several trips to do so¡­and none of them so much as blinked at or commented on the room which could not possibly fit inside the Hall''s exterior.


    I was impressed, and a little relieved. It was kind of nice to know there were other homes out there in the world as strange as mine.


    As soon as they left, and I closed the door behind me, Wadsworth materialized beside the pile of equipment and gave it a long look. Then he turned to me and smiled. "Not to fear, m''lady. Me kin and I will get this all squared away and learn how to use it. Don''t give it a second thought."


    He tipped his little pork pie hat to me and gave a piercing whistle. A dozen other Brownies, all dressed similarly to him, materialized around the pile of electronics and began popping away with bits of it. For several minutes they appeared and disappeared so quickly that I never got a good look at any of them, and before I knew it I was alone in the foyer with Wadsworth.


    He waggled his eyebrows at me comically, tipped his hat to me again, and vanished.


    So I put the whole thing out of my mind until I went for a run the next morning, when I discovered a new door off the foyer, not far from the front door. I stopped in my tracks, quickly turned in a circle to count doors, and stared at the new one. On first inspection, it looked rather like a closet.


    I walked over, opened the door a crack, and peered into what looked like the bridge of some Sci-Fi starship. There were monitors and banks of equipment that I didn''t recognize everywhere, monitored and fiddled with by a veritable army of Brownies. I caught a glimpse of four monitors showing different views of the front gates before I quietly closed the door again.


    None of them saw me watching them, or at least pretended they hadn''t. I went for my run, secure in the knowledge that my home''s defenses were improved.


    When I returned, having met D.T. along the way for a shared jog, she examined the new security measures. I carefully didn''t tell her where everything was, and was weirdly pleased when she couldn''t find all of the cameras and other sensors that had been installed. I thought that was probably a good sign.


    D.T. especially approved when I told her that if an alarm was set off, it would ring her at the Oakwood station. She liked that so much that she didn''t make a fuss when I told her I couldn''t let her see the interior setup, and was content with a light breakfast before heading back into town.


    I spent the rest of the day walking the length of the wall that surrounded the Hall and its immediate property, repairing the damage that von Einhardt had done to the wards and strengthening them as best I could with the knowledge I had. I would learn more and grow stronger in time, and as I did I would add to the Hall''s defenses.


    I fell into bed that night utterly exhausted, and - courtesy of Sparkle''s gentle radiance - slept dreamlessly.


    The next morning, things got strange on me again.

 Chapter 47

    I woke the next morning to discover that Sparkle had once again decided to sleep with me in her teenage form¡­she was cuddled up against me under the blankets. And she was, I quickly realized, quite naked again.


    I sighed a little and wondered if that was normal for fairies, or something she''d learned from my mother. Either way, I suspected it wasn''t really something I wanted to delve into, so I just slid out of bed, wrapped myself in a robe, and stretched. I had to admit - at least to myself - that she was very pleasant to cuddle with.


    It was, as always, a beautiful morning outside my bedroom windows. I could just see the new fairy village off to the right, bustling with early morning energy as they went about their business.


    Since the day before had been a jogging day, that made today a stretching and Tai Chi day. The beauty of the clearing outside my window and the promise of the infectiously cheerful company of Sparkle''s kin helped me make up my mind quickly.


    I would exercise out in the clearing.


    I turned back around to find Sparkle sitting up in bed, blanket around her waist, watching me sleepily. She smiled.


    I sighed, but I just didn''t have the heart - or the energy yet - to chastise her. And really, would it accomplish much? Eventually, maybe. "Good morning, Sparkle. I''m going to exercise outside this morning," I said, gesturing to the windows.


    She beamed and was out of bed on her feet in an instant. "Okay! I''ll come with you! Just let me go and get fresh soda bottles for the feeders!"


    "Clothes!" I said, but I was too late. She was already out the door. I pinched the bridge of my nose and waited.


    Ken materialized in the doorway. "Did a naked fairy just dash past me, or am I having particularly odd hallucinations?"


    I headed for the closet. "You''re not hallucinating. She was like that when I woke up. And don''t look at me, I didn''t teach her that."


    "No," Ken agreed ruefully, "that was definitely your mother."


    "I don''t think I want to know," I said flatly, pulling out leggings and a t-shirt.


    Ken smiled lopsidedly. "I wasn''t going to say any more."


    I stepped into the closet, almost closing the door, and started to change out of my night clothes. "Please tell me there''s nothing in particular on the agenda today," I said to Ken through the gap. "After everything that''s happened the last few days, I need a day or two off."


    I heard Ken chuckle. "Never fear, there''s nothing at all on the calendar for today. Though we should continue your practical magic lessons this afternoon, I''m willing to give you a couple of days off from physical training. You''ve made more progress in the latter than the former."


    I winced, pulling on a pair of leggings. "As evidenced by how close von Einhardt came to killing me."


    Ken sighed. "You were in over your head there no matter what. He had decades of experience on you, and even if he was - as you reported him saying - diminished from his physical and magical peaks, he still represented an overwhelming challenge for you."


    I pulled on a sports bra, then a plain green t-shirt over it. "Fortunately he was arrogant and careless, as well as underestimating the Hall."


    "Indeed," Ken agreed. "We were very lucky. I think we should work on your stamina and speed before worrying about broadening your repertoire of spells."


    "Makes sense to me."


    As I emerged from the closet to sit down and put on socks and trainers, Ken added, "I would also suggest that it might be worth investigating and exploring your bond with Oakwood Hall, and how that might be used in the future¡­" He smiled ruefully and spread his hands in a helpless gesture, "Except I haven''t the faintest idea of how to proceed."


    I smiled lopsidedly up at him from the window bench. "I was going to ask."


    He shrugged. "I know that the Hall has occasionally come to the defense of its occupants, but to the best of my knowledge no previous Guardian has ever investigated in that direction."


    I finished lacing up one trainer and moved to the other. "Something to ask Dara, perhaps?"


    Ken considered that for a moment, then nodded. "She''s never a bad place to start. She''s the only person who knows more about the Hall''s history than I do."


    I paused, wondering just how much Margrave knew. The last week had shown me just how narrow my view of the world I now inhabited really was. Perhaps it would be wise for me to start reaching out for information, rather than waiting for things to come to me.


    I frowned a little and finished lacing up my other trainer. "Ken, what about the ICOA?"


    Ken sighed and went to the closet. "I honestly don''t know, Caley. From what von Einhardt said, it doesn''t sound like they know a lot about either the Hall or about what he was up to. At least, I''d like to think they didn''t." He emerged with my yoga mat and a pensive expression.


    "There''s a disturbing thought," I said, taking it from him with a little nod of thanks. "If they did know what he was up to, I have a very bad problem on the horizon."


    "From everything I know of them," Ken said thoughtfully, "they are a very secretive organization, even within their own membership. They also at least pay lip service to holding themselves to a higher moral standard than the rest of the world¡­you may judge for yourself how true that is or isn''t."


    I grunted. "If von Einhardt was a fair representative, I''d say it''s a complete load of bovine fecal matter, as one of my professors liked to say."


    Ken flashed a quick smile. "Agreed. If you''re looking for my advice, I''d suggest letting them come to you instead of going in search of them. Your father once told me that they are singularly arrogant and self-centered above all else, and that they like to feel superior to all other spellcasters in the world. Let them come to you, and they''ll likely feel that they''re being particularly gracious to the newcomer."


    I sighed heavily. "I hate politics."


    "Get used to it," Ken said, his smile returning, but sadly. "It''s probably going to make up a large part of your interactions with the magical community as a whole."


    I grimaced.


    Sparkle''s return - gloriously, innocently, unselfconsciously naked and beaming happily - with two bottles of soda prevented me from having to think of a good response. Instead, I said as dryly as I could, "I hope you''re not planning on going outside like that."


    She set the bottles on the window bench and looked down at herself, then at me. "No, this is just for running around in the house, sleeping, and playing."


    I felt a muscle under my right eye start to twitch.


    "Clothing is for everything else and going outside - unless we''re celebrating Beltane or Litha - "


    "Fertility festival and summer solstice respectively," Ken murmured in my ear helpfully.


    " - or if two fairies are getting handfasted," Sparkle continued without pause, counting on her fingers, "or if the Sidhe have invited us to a revelry - "


    "One wonders why she bothers with clothes at all," I murmured dryly, causing Ken to choke off a laugh.


    " - but then Mistress Chessie showed me that sometimes clothing can be lots of fun for playing," Sparkle continued, "so that really confused me for a while - "


    I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. That was really more than I''d ever needed to know.


    " - but boy was she right, so who am I to argue? And then there were times when Mistress Chessie ran around naked with me - " Sparkle finally paused to take a breath.


    "How about this?" I interjected before she could get started on the subject again. "If you see me wearing clothes, and don''t feel like wearing your usual dress, put on something that''s close to what I''m wearing."


    Sparkle looked at me guilelessly. "But all I have is my one dress."


    "You can borrow my clothes." She was roughly the same size as me in her current form, after all. Lord knew why I persisted in thinking of it as her ''teenage'' form. Her behavior, maybe.


    She fairly beamed, literally glowing brightly for a moment. "Really really?"


    I smiled at how happy that thought made her. "Really, Sparkle."


    She vanished into the closet, leaving a little cloud of twinkling purple sparks in her wake.


    "She can''t possibly be that innocent," I said softly to Ken.


    He shrugged. "She''s a fairy," he said. "Who can tell?"


    Sparkle emerged from the closet, still barefoot but now wearing a pair of black leggings like mine, and a sparkly purple spandex halter top that I was quite certain I''d never seen before. The Hall, it seemed, was very clever about populating the contents of my closet as needed.


    She spread her arms. "How''s this?" She did a quick turn, making me realize why she''d chosen the halter top¡­it left her back open, which accommodated her wings.


    I smiled. "Looks great, Sparkle. Can you still change size wearing normal clothes?"


    By way of answer, she was suddenly fairy-sized again, and the clothing changed with her. "Ta da!" She said happily.


    "Now that is cool," I said.


    She giggled and flitted over to land on my shoulder. "Come on! Let''s go outside!"


    Even as I turned back towards the windows, I heard the squeak of hinges, and a red streak shot towards us from the now-open window. Before I could move, the streak resolved into Spice as she came to a halt mid-air and saluted us. "My Lady, Mistress Sparkle, I have urgent news!"


    Sparkle hopped off my shoulder and hovered in front of Spice, returning the other fairy''s salute. "Report, Spice!"


    Spice nodded and looked up at me. "My Lady, a dusk fox has been prowling the perimeter of the clearing since late last night. About ten minutes ago, she came out into the sunlight just beyond our perimeter and sat down, then asked to speak with you."


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    I blinked a couple of times. "With me?"


    Spice nodded, her short red hair bobbing. "Yes, My Lady, by name. She said, ''Please convey to Lady Caitlyn Reid that the descendant of a former retainer would speak with her and offers the Bond of Peace for the duration of a conversation.''"


    I looked at Ken. "Translation?"


    Ken smiled lopsidedly. "The Bond of Peace is an old Sidhe tradition. By agreeing to it, all involved parties must abide by a vow of peaceful discourse for the duration of the conversation. If taken in the Otherworld - as you would be if you agree - the Bond is enforced by the ambient magic of the Sidhe Courts. Breaking it can manifest all sorts of unpleasant side-effects."


    "Sounds useful," I said thoughtfully. "Is there any reason for me to not agree to speak with this dusk fox?" Which I was quite certain was the one I''d freed barely a week ago.


    Ken shook his head firmly. "None at all. The fact that she came out into the sunlight - which, even in the Otherworld - will strip away many of her abilities, speaks highly for her¡­she''s intentionally put herself at a disadvantage. If anything, you probably stand to gain a lot by talking to her. Just make sure you don''t break the Bond." He smiled lopsidedly. "Not that I think you would."


    "All right, then," I said. "Spice, lead the way, please. Sparkle, leave the soda here for now¡­I want you with me while we meet with our guest."


    "Okay, Caley!" Sparkle said happily, and settled back on my shoulder as we followed Spice out through the window.


    I hadn''t seen the entire fairy village in several days, and was impressed by how quickly it had established itself. The bizarre mixture of houses and shops was carved out of tree stumps, giant mushrooms, and more¡­I saw one abode that was just a series of little wooden platforms built at varying levels in a rose bush, for example.


    The village now took up a fair piece of the clearing. They had built around behind where my bedroom windows hung impossibly in mid-air - the leading edge of the village stopped just shy of the bird bath and soda feeders - but had left the area in front of them clear, which I felt was very considerate of them.


    "My goodness, Spice, but you have been busy," I said, making an effort to sound both impressed and encouraging.


    Spice responded the same way Sparkle did when praised - the glow emanating from her brightened and grew more distinct as she straightened and quivered with joy. "Thank you, My Lady! Follow me!"


    She shot off toward the edge of the clearing - straight out from the windows - and I followed.


    From a distance, even in broad daylight, the dusk fox seemed to be little more than a shadow on the grass until we got closer and she came into focus. It was definitely the same one I''d freed in Oakwood¡­the dark gray patch beneath her chin and the dark blue tips of her ears and paws was quite distinctive. Curiously, her eyes were no longer the glowing red they had been the other morning, but were now a brilliant gold and shone with obvious intelligence and curiosity.


    This was, undeniably, no ordinary animal. Even leaving aside her incredibly dark black fur and twin tails, which I now saw were tipped in dark blue as well. As I watched, she sat up and gave her tails a satisfied flip. "At last," she said in a husky contralto. "I''ve been asking these flighty little things to find you since dawn."


    It was fascinating, watching a fox''s muzzle form words. Her voice was quite clear and distinct, without any slurring or hesitation. I wondered how that was possible, even as I felt a surge of annoyance on behalf of my fairies.


    Before I could say anything, Spice came to a halt mid-air at eye level with the fox, barely three feet from her, separated only by the ring of mushrooms that marked the fairy defensive perimeter. She planted her hands on her hips and huffed. "If you hadn''t offered the Bond of Peace, I''d - "


    The dusk fox bared her fangs and Spice shot back a foot, then growled cutely and gathered motes of glowing red energy around her tiny fists.


    "Peace, peace," I said quickly. "We''re here for a friendly talk, not a fight. Spice, stand down for now." I looked at the dusk fox. "You have me at a disadvantage. I don''t know your name. But I would appreciate it if you would be polite to my fairies." I emphasized the word ''my'' gently.


    Her lips closed over her fangs again and she bobbed her head in acknowledgment. "My apologies, Lady Reid. I am too used to being harassed by fairies." She looked at Spice. "My apologies to you as well, little warrior. You are braver than many who have faced my fangs."


    The glowing energy vanished from around Spice''s fists and she bowed in mid-air. "Apology accepted, dusk fox."


    The dusk fox returned her attention to me. "As to my name¡­Lady, I have none." There was a mournful note in her voice as she said it. "My former master considered me a tool and nothing more, and never deigned to give me a name."


    I chewed on that for a moment, then stepped forward and sat down cross-legged in front of her. Spice quickly moved aside to make room for me, then landed on my left shoulder after a moment''s hesitation. Sparkle didn''t protest, perhaps feeling that I was safer with one of them on either side of me.


    It was then that I saw a flash of silver behind the dusk fox¡­outside the fairy ring, in the trees just beyond the clearing, Spice''s partner Shine had just let me know that she was watching the dusk fox''s back.


    Seated, I was just eye-level with the dusk fox as she sat on her haunches. "So," I said, "what should I call you?"


    She sighed. "It was the tradition in my clan," she said slowly, "from time immemorial, for the Guardian of Oakwood Hall to name all kits. That was before the wizards killed our elders and took my grand-dam''s generation for their own, binding them with magical restraints like the one you freed me from."


    Her grandparents. I didn''t know how long a dusk fox generation was, but from what Ken had told me it was definitely before my mother was born. Possibly before my grandmother was born.


    "And you¡­belonged¡­" the word felt dirty in my mouth in that context, "to Bellinus von Einhardt."


    She nodded. "I did." A shudder ran through her from the tips of her ears to the tips of her tails. "He¡­made me do things¡­" She lowered her head and didn''t meet my eyes. "Things I would fain forget."


    It was my turn to sigh now. "Somehow, that doesn''t surprise me." I leaned forward a little, resting my arms on my knees. "But I don''t think that''s what you came to talk to me about."


    She lifted her golden eyes again and shook her head. "No, Lady. My ancestors served your family faithfully for generations, walking in their shadows and guarding them from things that would prey on them." She lifted her chin proudly. "I am alone, but I would offer you my clan''s loyalty and service again."


    I had half-expected something like that. "In return for what?"


    She met my eyes. "I ask only a name and your protection in return, Lady Reid. And¡­" She hesitated, then shook her head slightly.


    "And?" I asked. Honestly, she wasn''t asking for much in exchange for what she was offering, based on what I''d seen of her in action. I was curious what she was holding back.


    She lowered her head a little and looked up at me. "My¡­my brothers and sisters are held by the wizards still¡­they are few, but¡­" She shakes her head. "I cannot ask you to free them in exchange for my service. It would not be fair. The wizards are many and you are but one. I will not make my service contingent on their freedom, when they would want me to serve you regardless."


    "Would they?" I asked curiously. But I felt an ache on behalf of her still-enslaved siblings. That was no life for such beautiful and intelligent beings. I was, frankly, finding it easier to think of this dusk fox as a person rather than as an animal.


    She nodded fervently. "Our elders have taught us of the Guardian and the great Hall she protects, which we once helped protect. When I heard rumors that a new clan of fairies had formed under the protective wing of the Guardian of Oakwood Hall, I knew it had to be you, who freed me. I came straight here and watched for days, until I was certain¡­the clearing and magic windows are just as my grand-dam described them."


    On my right shoulder, I felt Sparkle twitch. "You can see Caley''s bedroom windows?"


    The dusk fox nodded. "I can see them floating in the air. Why?"


    "Caley," Sparkle said happily, "only beings who''ve been told about them by someone in your family and who mean you no harm can see them. That means her grand-dam definitely knew someone in your family who trusted them, and passed that knowledge down."


    I nodded slowly, turning that over in my mind for a moment before I met the dusk fox''s eyes again. "When you offer your service, what do you mean?"


    The dusk fox''s head rose again and her lips curled into a distinct smile. "While my powers are limited in direct sunlight, I am powerful under artificial light and wherever shadows fall. I can hide in your shadow and watch behind you where your eyes cannot see." She lifted her chin proudly again. "I would guard your life with my own, Lady Reid, as my ancestors did. As you saw the other morning, I am a fierce and clever warrior. I would fight any who meant you harm with all my skill and fervor."


    "No small offer," Spice murmured in my left ear.


    I looked at the dusk fox seriously, a little frown drawing my eyebrows down. "Please take no offense to my question, dusk fox¡­I am still learning the ways of Otherworld¡­but can I trust your word?"


    The dusk fox blinked in distinct surprise, and was clearly trying not to look offended as well. "L-lady¡­my word is¡­"


    Sparkle hopped off my shoulder and hovered around in front of me. "You can trust her word, Caley," she said with a smile. "Vows like that are held as sacred in the Otherworld."


    The dusk fox nodded fervently. "I would not make such an offer if I did not mean it, Lady Reid. I am not merely offering my service¡­I am offering you my life!"


    I smiled gently. "Forgive me, please. I still don''t understand a lot of this. I''ve only just started learning about such things."


    The dusk fox bowed her head gracefully. "I forgive you, Lady Reid. My grand-dam taught me that ignorance is forgivable, as long as an effort is made to correct it."


    I laughed. "Sister Sarah at the orphanage where I grew up said something very similar to me." I rose slowly. "But¡­I would ask that you join me in speaking to the Caretaker of the Hall. He is my primary teacher in such matters, and I would like his advice before making any deal with you. Will you abide by the Bond of Peace and consider our conversation not yet finished if I allow you to come into the clearing so that we may speak with him together?"


    "Aye, Lady," the dusk fox said eagerly, rising to all fours, "I will. I appreciate both your consideration and your caution. Such deals should never be made lightly."


    "Then you may enter, and come with me to the windows," I said.


    The dusk fox smirked. "Tell your little silver guard to come with us. She''s not as safe out in the woods as she is within the clearing."


    I smiled and chuckled. "I should''ve known you''d have spotted her." I raised my voice. "Shine, come along please!"


    The little silver fairy shot out of the woods, and the five of us made our way together to the windows. Shine kept pace several lengths behind us, and Spice flanked the dusk fox - staying out of reach - as she padded along by my side.


    It felt shockingly natural to have her there.


    Ken was watching from the window and looked at the dusk fox curiously as we approached. "Well?" He asked.


    I explained the situation briefly, and the dusk fox renewed her offer of service in exchange for a name and protection. When we finished, Ken leaned against the windowsill and frowned. "I¡­" He rubbed at his left temple with two fingers. "I feel I should remember dusk foxes being in service to your family, Caley, but it''s just not coming for some reason."


    "That''s all right, Ken," I said gently. "I don''t expect you to know everything, after all."


    Sparkle and Spice giggled. Shine hid a silent giggle behind her hand, and even the dusk fox smiled slightly.


    "More importantly, what do you think?" I asked.


    Ken gave his head a little shake, and then nodded. "I think it''s both a trustworthy vow and an excellent idea. I know I''d feel a lot better knowing you had someone like a dusk fox watching your back when you go out. No offense, Sparkle, but you can''t watch everywhere. With both you and a dusk fox watching over Caley, she''d be much safer in the outside world."


    Sparkle, standing on the ledge below the windows, nodded. "I agree, Caley."


    And I trusted both of them without doubt. I turned and went down on one knee to be closer to the dusk fox''s eye level. "And this is truly what you want?"


    She nodded fervently. "Yes, Lady Reid. More than anything."


    "Well, then," I said slowly, "speak your vow."


    The dusk fox straightened a little, her shoulders stiff, her chin lifted proudly. "In exchange for a real name and your protection, Guardian, I offer my life, skills and power in your service; to warn you of danger, advise you, and protect you from harm as best I can for as long as I live."


    Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Ken nod firmly.


    "Then I accept your service and offer my protection and guidance in return," I said with as much gravity as I could, feeling the power in the words we were exchanging, "and I name you Penumbra." I''d been giving that thought since she''d asked for a name.


    To my absolute astonishment there was a brief flash of darkness between us - I can''t think of any other way to describe it - and a simple ring made of polished onyx dropped to the grass. Instinctively, I reached down, picked it up, and slid it on the same finger with Sparkle''s.


    The instant it was on, I felt the bond form between us, similar to the one I shared with Sparkle. A moment later, the dusk fox sitting in front of me was instead a young woman on one knee, who seemed to be made of solid shadows.


    She was, I realized, a perfect mirror image of me¡­or, perhaps more correctly, a negative image of me. She was dressed like me, but her skin was a dusky coal black. Her hair, long and braided like mine, was the black of raven''s wings fading to dark, glossy blue at the tips. Her eyes were still the dusk fox''s bright gold. A pair of fox ears rose from her hair high up on either side of her head, the same black as her hair, fading to dark blue at their tips, and a pair of matching fox tails waved lazily behind her.


    She blinked in surprise and stared at her hands. "What?"


    I looked up at Ken, who shrugged and looked amused. "She can''t be your shadow unless she can be your shadow."


    "Oh," Penumbra and I said together.


    Sparkle flew a tight circle around Penumbra, then stopped and laughed, clapping with delight. "That is so cool! Can you still be a fox?"


    Penumbra looked at her and blinked a few times. "I think¡­" And suddenly she was a fox again, sitting in front of me and looking at me with a mixture of astonishment and joy. Then she was a girl again, lunging forward to hug me tightly as she burst into tears and gasped out, "Thank you, Lady Reid, thank you!"


    I returned her hug¡­she felt perfectly solid and normal to me¡­and stroked her hair gently. "You''re welcome, Penumbra." I gently pushed her back and cupped her chin to meet her eyes. "Please, call me Caley. And I promise you, I''ll at least try to find a way to free your siblings. I don''t know if it''s possible, but if I can come up with a way to do so, I will."


    She hugged me tightly again, sniffling and whispering her thanks over and over again. Her tails waved happily behind her.


    Well. This would take some getting used to. I smiled and hugged Penumbra tightly. "Welcome to the family," I murmured. "I think I''ll call you Penny for short."


    "I''d like that, Caley," Penny whispered.


    Around us, fairies materialized seemingly out of nowhere and broke into cheers.


    What an amazing family I was building.

 Chapter 48

    I woke the next morning to find a dusk fox sprawled across my feet, and a purple fairy curled up in the fur on her back. Granted, I couldn''t really blame Sparkle. Penny did have very soft and luxurious fur.


    And I was very glad to see them getting along that well. I''d been a little bit worried that Sparkle might''ve been jealous of the newcomer...and maybe still a bit uncertain about Penny''s motives.


    Seeing Sparkle curled up asleep on Penny''s back relieved both concerns.


    As I sat up, Penny shifted her head towards me and opened one eye. She smiled slightly and moved her shoulders a little, waking Sparkle, who sat up and yawned.


    "Good morning," I said softly. "Did you both sleep well?"


    Sparkle flitted up and was suddenly human-sized at the foot of the bed, stretching and yawning. "Yuh huh!"


    "Better than I ever have," Penny said softly, rising to all fours and stretching like a cat. She looked around the room, then settled and turned her attention to me, adding shyly, "I''ve never felt safe like this before."


    Sparkle ruffled her ears gently. "Well you''re completely safe in Oakwood Hall. Right Caley?"


    "That''s right, Sparkle," I said firmly, disentangling myself from the blanket and rising.


    I made an executive decision to give myself a day off from exercise and stress to just relax and unwind...I''d just spent the better part of a week reinforcing the Hall''s defenses after nearly dying, after all. I was due a bit of a break.


    After a hot shower of decadent length - which Sparkle found boring and Penny found fascinating (another magical creature who kept herself clean with magic...perhaps I could learn how...) - I had a leisurely breakfast. I had just decided to spend some time in the garden, which would also give me a chance to introduce Penny to Dara, when there was a distinctly doorbell-style chime.


    I looked around in confusion. "Where did that come from?"


    Ken and Sparkle both pointed to a new and very high-tech looking screen/panel thingy on the wall beside the kitchen door. I blinked at it, rose, and walked over. On the screen was a view of the front gates, and a man standing beyond them by the street.


    He was tall, dressed in a neatly pressed and rather old-fashioned brown suit. His hair was snowy white and thinning on top, and he had a neatly trimmed full beard.


    There was also a wireless phone handset in a charger mounted beside the screen.


    "Wadsworth?" I asked the air.


    The leader of the Hall''s brownies appeared beside me. "My Lady?"


    "What''s this?"


    "Ah! One of several viewing panels for the security cameras at the front gates. It''s very clever...touch sensitive..." He pointed to a row of smaller static images down the right side. "Just touch one of the small pictures to change to a different camera. And we finally got those wireless phones set up."


    "Clever." I touched one and switched to another camera that was mounted somewhere behind the man, then back to the front view. "And cool. Any idea who that is?"


    Wadsworth shook his head. "Never seen him before."


    "Ken?" I asked.


    "Sorry, Caley," Ken said. "I have no idea either."


    "Anybody?" I asked hopefully.


    Sparkle landed on my shoulder and made a negative sound.


    "I know him," Penny said softly from behind us. "Or at least, I know him by sight."


    We all turned to face her where she was sitting by the chair I''d just left. She wasn''t looking at us or the screen, but was staring at the floor.


    "Who''s this, then?" Wadsworth asked, breaking the brief silence.


    "Oh!" I felt my cheeks heat up. "Wadsworth, this is Penumbra...Penny for short. My new...companion. Penny, this is Wadsworth, leader of the Hall''s clan of brownies."


    Penny looked up and smiled slightly. "You really are sheltering quite a lot of clans here."


    "Gathering strays seems to run in the family," I said. "So who is this man?" I gestured to the screen.


    "A friend of my former master''s," Penny said softly. "Not as...bad. But very proud, very arrogant."


    And probably very dangerous, I thought. The look Ken gave me said the same thing.


    The screen beside the door chimed again, and we all turned to see the man stepping back from the gates.


    "Well," I said, "at least I have a doorbell now." I scrutinized the panel, then touched a button on it labeled ''talk.'' "Hello? Can I help you?" I released the talk button.


    The man on the screen looked up at the nearest camera - the one I happened to have it set to - and smiled warmly as he touched something out of my line of sight. Undoubtedly the intercom Doyle Winterbourne had told me about.


    "Yes, good morning!" The man said cheerfully in an almost stereotypical upper-class British accent, his voice a bit tinny as it came through the security panel''s small speaker. "My name is Edwyn Cuthbert. I''m looking for Miss Caitlyn Reid. Have I come to the correct address?"


    "As if he didn''t know," Ken snorted.


    "I don''t trust this guy already," Sparkle huffed.


    "Sparkle is right," Penny said urgently. "You cannot trust this man."


    "It''s nice to hear some proper paranoia," Wadsworth said dryly, but he was smiling at the same time.


    "Who said I was going to trust him?" I asked wryly, reaching for the talk button again and leaning towards the screen a little. "Speaking."


    On the little screen, Cuthbert beamed at the intercom as he touched it again. "Lovely. Miss Reid, I am here representing the International Consortium of Organized Arcana."


    I raised an eyebrow and waited.


    "Perhaps I could come in for a few minutes?" He continued. "We could sit down and have a talk."


    The resulting hash of negatives from my friends translated to a rather emphatic ''no'' in my mind. I touched the talk button. "With all due respect, Mr. Cuthbert, I don''t know that you are who you claim to be. You''ll have to forgive me if I''m not feeling particularly amenable to letting people into the grounds right now...I just had my gates replaced because of the last person I said no to."


    On the little screen, Cuthbert looked uncomfortable for a moment. "I see...well...this is a most awkward way to have a conversation, but -"


    "I''m willing to come out and talk to you," I said, interrupting him. "I''ll be out momentarily."


    I released the talk button and watched him for a reaction. He looked mildly annoyed, but quickly composed himself to wait by the gates, glancing around uneasily.


    "Wadsworth," I said, "Ken, on monitor duty, please. If he does anything untoward, call the police and Ariana." They both nodded and headed for the new security office as I continued, "Sparkle, Penny, with me, but hidden."


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Almost before I finished speaking, Sparkle had shrunk down and attached to the Master Key, and Penny had vanished into my shadow. Now that I knew how, I could sense them close to me, and was comforted by the feeling.


    Then I headed for the front door.


    A brownie I didn''t recognize (which wasn''t hard, since I''d only actually been introduced to Wadsworth), intercepted me, hurrying over. "My Lady!" He called. "My Lady, wait!"


    I paused before opening the door and looked down at him with a smile. "Can I help you?"


    Breathless, he bowed, and then held up what looked at first glance like a flesh-colored hearing aid. "If you''ll put this in your right ear, My Lady, we''ll be able to communicate with you directly and hear everything you say and that''s said around you. We also enchanted it to be invisible while it''s in your ear." He beamed up at me. "That was my idea."


    I took it from him and smiled. "An excellent idea, thank you very much."


    His skin darkened in a blush and he lowered his eyes, mumbling something about how I didn''t need to thank him before scurrying back to the security room. I chuckled and carefully inserted the device in my right ear. It fit more comfortably than any pair of earbuds I''d ever used, at least.


    Penny, now in her human form, melted out of my shadow and walked around me slowly, nodding. "He was right. If I hadn''t seen it, I would never have known it was there. A clever stratagem."


    I smiled at her. "The Hall''s brownies are indeed very clever," I agreed, confident that the praise would reach them. "Shall we?"


    Penny nodded and melted back into my shadow, her voice reaching my ear as she vanished. "Let''s."


    As I closed the front door behind me and started up the drive, Ken''s voice spoke in my right ear, just a bit tinny. "Testing. Can you hear me, Caley?"


    I smiled. "I hear you just fine, Ken. How about you?"


    "Loud and clear," Ken confirmed. "It''s not as good as being able to go out there with you, but it makes me feel a lot better."


    "Me too," I said fervently. "Me too."


    "For what it''s worth," Ken said, "the security cameras along the wall don''t show any vehicles. Mr. Cuthbert either walked here, teleported in, or arrived by some other extradimensional means."


    "Is that actually a thing?" I asked. Then gave my head a little shake. "Of course it is. The doors in the house enable that sort of travel."


    "Quite," Ken sounded amused. "However, for most people it''s much more difficult and energy-intensive. We''ll start you on teleportation theory in another month or two, I think."


    "Lovely," I murmured.


    "Now," Ken said, and I could almost hear his smile, "it would probably be best if you didn''t arrive at the gates appearing to talk to yourself."


    I snorted a little laugh.


    Edwyn Cuthbert was waiting for me on the other side of the front gates as I walked up leisurely. "Good morning, Mr. Cuthbert. Sorry to keep you waiting."


    He smiled politely through the gates at me. "It''s lovely to meet you at last, Miss Reid. Are we going to have this conversation with cold metal bars between us?" He sounded genuinely regretful and had a look of gentle sorrow on his face.


    "I''m afraid so, Mr. Cuthbert," I said politely. "I''ve had an exciting week, and you haven''t told me why you''re here."


    "Ah," he said uncomfortably. "No, I haven''t. Well...it''s rather embarrassing, actually. You see, one of our most accomplished and prestigious wizards, very much a leader in our community, volunteered to make contact with you and invite you to become a member. When I last spoke with him, he said he''d failed to make contact with you on two occasions, and was about to try again. That was a little over a week ago..."


    He paused and I waited, trying to look politely curious. After all, it was possible he was talking about someone else.


    When I didn''t offer anything, Cuthbert cleared his throat uneasily. "Ah...his name was Bellinus von Einhardt - "


    "You won''t find him here," I interrupted him coldly.


    "Careful," Ken''s voice murmured in my right ear.


    "He did indeed ''make contact'' with me on two previous occasions," I said to Cuthbert. "Both times he tried to cast mind control spells on me, and the second time he came close to physically assaulting me. Fortunately, the local police and several concerned citizens intervened.


    "He then," I continued, not giving Cuthbert a chance to get a word in edgewise, "assaulted my home''s wards, and had a colleague summon a giant boar to smash down my front gates. Finally, he physically and magically assaulted me at my own front door, while demanding entry to my home." I gave Cuthbert what I hoped was a politely cold smile. "He was...repelled."


    Cuthbert was silent for a moment, his genial front gone. Instead, his eyes were fixed on me with a cold, calculating look.


    "I see," he said finally. "Do you know where he is now?"


    "I do not," I said flatly, taking refuge behind a technical truth. I didn''t actually know what Emrys had done with his remains, or what the final disposition of his soul - assuming he''d still had one - might have been. "I did make it abundantly clear that he wasn''t welcome here," I added.


    Cuthbert pursed his lips and looked at the ground for a moment, then returned his attention to me. The genial old man mask was back. "Well, I fear I cannot speak for - or believe - such behavior from him. When I find him, I will have to discuss the matter with him. In the meantime, the ICOA would very much like to have you as a member - "


    "Me?" I asked, interrupting him again. "Or do you just want access to Oakwood Hall the way your colleague did. Will you or another member of the ICOA be battering down my defenses next?"


    He was silent for a moment again, then regrouped and tried again. "I can see you''ve gotten a bad first impression of the ICOA. We work very hard to keep the magical world safely separated from the mundane world, and while access to the resources represented by Oakwood Hall would be very much appreciated - "


    "No," I said firmly. His lips pressed together when I interrupted him this time, and the muscles of his jaw moved beneath his beard. He probably wasn''t used to being interrupted. Or denied.


    "We can offer you a great deal in return," he said calmly, trying again. "Membership in the ICOA would be very beneficial for a vulnerable young sorceress just starting out in the world."


    That sounded like a threat, and he must have realized it, because cleared his throat and changed tack. "What I mean is, we would be glad to help reinforce and improve your magical defenses, find you suitable teachers, and would offer you access to our resources as well."


    Though he hadn''t pursued the subject, I was sure that the ''disappearance'' of his colleague Bellinus von Einhardt concerned him...or, at the very least, stung his professional pride. And I was less than thrilled by the fact that he seemed as interested as von Einhardt had to get access to the Hall.


    My membership, I felt certain, was of value less to the ICOA than access to Oakwood Hall. Which had, undoubtedly, been long denied them.


    I felt more than heard the almost inaudible growl that came from Penny. She was evidently getting as tired of Cutbhert''s rhetoric as I was.


    Penny...


    "Mr. Cuthbert," I said, putting a smile back on, "there is, perhaps, one thing you could do to convince me to discuss membership in your organization. A gesture of goodwill to offset the extremely poor first impression von Einhardt made, if you will."


    "And that is?" he asked hopefully, though the politeness in his voice sounded strained.


    "Release all of the dusk foxes your members keep as pets," I said bluntly. "I have reason to believe that their clan were under my family''s protection, and that they were taken and kept by force. If that were the case, I would consider their continued enslavement a personal insult. Release them, and we can talk."


    "Well played," Ken''s voice murmured in my ear.


    Cuthbert''s face took on the carefully blank sort of look I''d come to recognize on students who''d just been caught out not having done the prep for a class. After a long moment, he said in a strained tone, "I have no idea what you''re talking about."


    "Penny?" I said.


    Penny, in her natural form, slunk out of the shadows...on the outside of the wall, not far from where Cuthbert was standing. She bared her fangs at him and bristled her fur dramatically.


    He eyed her for a long moment, clearly recognizing her, then looked back at me. "This is not a negotiation," he said.


    "Then we have nothing to talk about," I said. "You seem entirely unconcerned that the first person from the ICOA to make contact with me tried first to take control of my mind, and then to kill me. That plus the fact that the ICOA enslaves, through the use of magic, sentient beings..." I shook my head. "Mr. Cuthbert, those two things tell me everything I need to know about you and your organization. I want no part of it. Good day."


    I turned and started back up the drive. Penny emerged from my shadow to pad along beside me a moment later, her head up. "I very much appreciate the attempt, Caley."


    "It''s just my first try," I said, reaching down to ruffle her ears gently. "We''ll figure something out. Is he still there, Ken?"


    "No, he just teleported away," Ken reported. "That was very nicely done, Caley. Your mother and father would both have been proud of the way you handled that."


    "Thank you," I said, smiling. "Tell me, am I exaggerating my family''s claim on the dusk foxes?"


    "I don''t think so..." Ken said uncertainly. Then he added, "That might be a good question for Margrave, actually."


    "I believe I''ll give him a call."


    Ken met me at the door, wireless phone in hand. He offered it to me. "I have Margrave on the line."


    I laughed. "Thank you, Ken." I took the phone and put it to my ear. "Margrave?"


    "Miss Reid," Margrave''s gentle voice said warmly, "it is always a pleasure to hear from you. How may Summers & Winters serve you today?"


    "Do you happen to know anything about a clan of dusk foxes that used to serve my family?" I asked, bending down to gently stroke Penny''s ears.


    Sparkle hopped off the Master Key and grew to human size, sitting down on the floor to pet Penny too.


    "I do seem to recall mention of a vassal agreement involving the Reid family and a clan of dusk foxes, but it was some time ago¡­" Margrave said thoughtfully. "May I have a couple of days to review our records before answering any further questions on the subject?"


    I smiled. "Of course, Margrave. Thank you very much."


    "Any time at all, Miss Reid. Is there anything else today?"


    "Nothing comes to mind," I said.


    "Then I will speak to you as soon as I have more information," Margrave said, then added, "Oh! May I congratulate you on your formation of a new clan of fairies? Word of the Fairy Clan of Oakwood Hall reached us this very morning."


    I found myself blushing. "Thank you."


    "You''re making quite a splash in Faerie," Margrave said, sounding amused. "I wouldn''t be surprised if you had emissaries from the Courts reaching out to you before long. If I may, I would advise you to be wary of making any deals with them, but the friendship of both Courts, as well as the Wildfae, would be of great value to you."


    "I will take that under advisement," I said, "and I greatly appreciate the advice."


    "As always, Miss Reid, I am at your service," Margrave said with genuine warmth in his voice. "I will contact you as soon as I have the information you have requested."

 Chapter 49 - Epilogue

    After that, all that was left was cleanup.


    Curiously, it didn''t take more than a couple of days for me to get used to having Penny around. Ken confirmed my suspicion that the bond between us helped nudge things along, but also¡­well¡­I think my tolerance for weirdness was finally improving.


    I quickly adjusted to having her following me around in her fox form. It helped, I think, that I''d always wanted a pet. Having one that was both highly intelligent and capable of seeing to her own needs was beyond ideal. Not that I thought of her as a pet, though her animal form did make her presence feel that way from time to time.


    Like at night, when she quickly settled into a routine of curling up on the foot of my bed to sleep. Or when I spent an evening reading by the fireplace in the kitchen, and she curled up on the hearth there.


    Fortunately, Ken''s insistence that she spend time adjusting to her new human form - as he continued to push Sparkle to do the same - disabused my subconscious of any notion that she might be just an animal.


    We also determined that whatever I was wearing when Penny changed to her human shape was what she would also be wearing, which she found a bit bewildering (clothing in general, that is), and which Ken found utterly fascinating. She also wasn''t able to change her physical form to match anyone else''s appearance¡­only mine.


    She was able to disguise her fox form in a variety of ways using illusions, a type of magic with which she was profoundly talented. Her favorite ''mortal'' animal form (as she put it) was that of a black Siberian Husky, with a pattern of light gray under her chin and at her paws. That would let her go out in public with me if she wanted to, rather than simply lurking in my shadow.


    Sparkle, of course, took to Penny like a fish to water. In a scant three days it was as if Penny had been with us for years. Which really emphasized to me how right being at Oakwood Hall felt to me...it had, after all, been significantly less than a year since I''d come home.


    I continued learning about ward construction, finally testing my knowledge by laying down a half-dozen smooth, flat granite stones - with Penny''s help - in a circle at the edge of the clearing outside my bedroom windows. Onto the bottom of each stone I had carved a series of runes that formed the matrix of a protective enchantment, rather like the work I''d done to prepare the staff von Einhardt had so effortlessly destroyed.


    Once Penny and I laid down the stones in the proper sequence (outside the defensive perimeter of mushrooms my fairies had raised), I was able to complete the spell carved into them. Energy was drawn from the land they were touching to form the wards that would protect the clearing. Now, nothing would be able to get in without my permission, though once something (or someone) was allowed in, they could come and go at will.


    There were other protections etched into the wards I''d raised, of course, but the less the rest of the world knows about them, the harder they''ll be to breach.


    Which is also why I won''t go into any details about the wards surrounding Oakwood Hall''s property line. Using the same basic technique, I was able to expand them out to the road along the front, which let Wadsworth''s clan keep the verge neatly trimmed and kept me from having to hire a landscaping company to do it.


    I can only imagine what landscapers would''ve thought of such a task. Mow the verge, but leave the perfectly manicured grounds within the wall alone.


    My life had become weird, and I found I rather liked it that way.


    Still¡­even if I liked and had grown quite comfortable with the general weirdness of Oakwood Hall, I wanted an anchor of reality (for lack of a better term) to keep me grounded. Thankfully, I still had the town of Oakwood and my regular visits to the Oak & Ivy Pub to help with that.


    Thanks to von Einhardt and the chaos that followed his ''visit,'' it had been almost two weeks since my last visit to the pub when the little bells over the door jingled as I went inside. Sparkle was, as usual, clinging to the Master Key, and I could sense Penny lurking in my shadow. Between the two of them watching out for me, I felt quite relaxed.


    Nothing was going to sneak up on me, and anything that tried was going to have a very bad day.


    The pub was its usual warmly rumbling chaos, with the only completely free space being the area between the dartboard on the wall in the corner, and its throwing line near the bar. I stood quietly in the doorway for a minute, observing the low-key commotion with a smile on my face. After the two preceding weeks, I was a bit surprised by the intense feeling of relief that washed over me when I saw everything unchanged within.


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    I mean¡­I don''t like pubs! I''d always actively avoided being dragged to them while attending university. But then, I''d actively avoided most forms of socializing while I''d been in school.


    Maybe, I thought, it wasn''t pubs themselves I didn''t like. Maybe I just hadn''t found the right pub crowd before going to the Oak & Ivy.


    It took a minute for anyone to realize I was there, but that was all right too. I was quite content for the moment to stand there and soak in the atmosphere of complete and absolute normality that the old pub seemed to exude from every inch of its warm interior. Then Malcolm, at his accustomed place behind the bar, spotted me and waved, his voice rising over the hum of the crowd. "Caley!"


    The result was startling and made me feel both embarrassed and warm inside. All over the room, heads turned towards me and there was a general hash of friendly greetings. Just like that I was pulled into the gathering and - after a few handshakes and a hug or three - quickly and unobtrusively drawn over to the bar, where one of the tall bar chairs was mysteriously open for me to sit down in.


    Malcolm immediately set a steaming mug of tea in front of me and gave me a fond smile and a warm greeting. "Welcome back, lass. We were all a bit worried about you after that crazy storm. Heard from Constable Burroughs that the Hall''s front gates were blown down."


    "And did you see that lightning bolt?" the man sitting to my right asked, wiping a bit of foam from his bristly gray mustache as he set down his pint. "Never seen a bolt of lightning that close and intense before. Did it hit the Hall?"


    I nodded as I picked up my tea mug. "It struck and melted the lightning rod over the front door," I said carefully, meeting Malcolm''s eyes. "It did a bit of damage to the gargoyle there, too."


    Malcolm''s eyebrows went up and he whistled silently, then nodded his respect.


    "Must''ve been grounded badly, then," the other man said as he rose. "Better get that looked at! Glad you''re all right, Miss Reid." He winked, and disappeared into the crowd, leaving me wondering how many people suspected what had been going on.


    "That was you?" Malcolm asked a moment later, keeping his voice pitched low enough that I had to lean forward a bit to hear him.


    I sipped my tea and considered what to tell him, finally settling on. "It was. It was¡­intense."


    "Everything all right now?" He asked with obvious concern, which warmed me more than the tea.


    "Everything is fine," I said with a smile. "The gentleman who was in here bothering us won''t be coming by again."


    Malcolm nodded serenely. "Good. That man gave me the creeps. You know," he continued thoughtfully, "I could swear I''d seen him somewhere before. Could he have come in here years ago?"


    I nodded. "Quite likely." I didn''t want to try to explain the family connection, especially since I had decided that it simply didn''t matter to me. The man I had killed was no more family than a stranger I bumped into on the street, and enormously less so than someone like Malcolm himself.


    Someone who cared about me.


    I looked around. Heck, everybody in this room cared about me more than von Einhardt had, without making any effort to do so.


    I shivered a little and returned my attention to Malcolm. He seemed to understand that it wasn''t something I wanted to talk about, and nodded toward the dart board. "Going to join the game tonight?"


    "I don''t think so," I said. "I really just came down to¡­to just sit and be for a little while."


    He chuckled. "Good place to do that, if I do say so myself." He looked at me more closely and frowned ever so slightly. "Are you sure you''re all right, Caley?"


    Once again, his words and the genuine concern I heard in them and saw in his eyes touched me. It made me feel warm, and safe, and¡­and¡­


    Like I was home. I felt a profound sense of being home.


    Oakwood Hall, I realized, was only a part of my true home. The town was part of it too, and the people who lived there were family, whether I was related to them distantly or not. I didn''t know all of them personally, nor they me, and might never know some of them except in passing¡­but at the end of the day, I had become¡­had always been, I supposed¡­part of their community


    Oakwood Hall and the town of Oakwood were where I belonged. Where I was meant to be. I supposed that such a feeling might have scared a lot of people¡­but to me, it felt like an anchor holding me safe and secure in a storm.


    I''d never felt anything like it before.


    I didn''t realize I had tears in my eyes until Malcolm handed me a couple of tissues. I wiped my eyes and smiled at him reassuringly. "I''m fine. Really. I just realized that I''m where I''m meant to be."


    His face relaxed and he returned my smile. "You''ve decided, then? You''re staying?"


    I nodded firmly. "Yes."


    Malcolm nodded and turned, raising his voice. "Hey everybody, Caley says she''s staying."


    There was a rousing (if slightly ragged) cheer from the rest of the patrons of the pub.


    "So there''s something I want to do," Malcolm continued as he drew himself a pint and lifted it. "A toast to the newest member of the Oakwood family," he said, having somehow divined my thoughts. Maybe that was a hint of his magical talent showing through. Maybe he understood how alone I''d felt all those years.


    Maybe he was just a really nice guy, and an excellent bartender.


    "Welcome home, Caley!" he said, beaming at me.


    "Welcome home, Caley!" the room chorused back to him, and I was suddenly engulfed in hugs, handshakes, and pats on the back.


    I was home. At last.


    D.T. joined the scrum about a half-hour later, and I was pleased to see her greeted with the same warmth I''d received. She spotted me and gave me a relieved smile as she sat down beside me. "Glad to see you out and about again."


    "Glad to be out and about again," I replied.


    A line of dialog from Dracula popped into my head, something Van Helsing had said: "We must go through bitter waters before we reach the sweet."


    I smiled. "Hey Malcolm," I said, "I think I''d like a small glass of mead. And a half-pint of bitter for D.T., please."


    "Coming right up, my lass!" Malcolm threw me a two-fingered salute, and delivered our drinks a moment later.


    I lifted my drink and D.T. picked up hers, raising an eyebrow when I held mine out towards her. "Better days."


    "I''ll drink to that," she said, and touched her glass to mine.

 Author Update & Rebranding

    Howdy, y''all! I am indeed still alive and kicking. Got a couple of bits of news for you!


    First up, Nexus has been rebranded to Tales of Oakwood Hall - Book 1: Nexus, ahead of publication on KDP. Barring complications (of which there will no doubt be many), I''m aiming to have it up on Amazon by the middle of August, in both Kindle and Paperback formats. I might do hardcover, if enough people mention wanting it. Speak up!


    Second, and possibly more exciting...not only is there a complete outline for the as-yet untitled second book, the prologue and first chapter are written. Once I''ve got a decent (and reasonably edited) backlog, I''ll start posting it here on Royal Road. And once it has a title, of course.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    For those who are still following, I also have a complete outline for the next book of The Kinnear Chronicles, entitled Broken Circle. That will follow the second book of Oakwood Hall.


    I won''t promise release dates for either of those, because my writing schedule is uneven (stupid full time job)...but they are coming!


    That''s all for now. In case you missed the announcements, all three books of Kinnear and all of Pluto are up on Amazon now. You''d be doing me a big favor if you left reviews there...every review helps visibility, after all.


    And that''s all the begging I''m going to do. Honest.


    Hope you''re all having a good summer, and not frying in the heat! Sparkle says hi!

 Publishing!

    Hi everybody! As promised, Nexus is coming to KDP! Pre-order for the Kindle edition, to be released on Friday, August 9th, is available now at https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B0DC76LNP3</a>. Additionally, a paperback edition will become available on Monday, August 12th!


    As always, I''d consider it a personal favor if you''d spread the word, and do please leave a review on Amazon if you pick up a copy. I would greatly appreciate it.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Finally, a sequel is in the works (as in chapters have actually been written)! As soon as I have a decent backlog of chapters - and a working title - I''ll start posting it here on Royal Road. So keep your eyes open!


    And thanks for all of the support. It means a lot to me to know that someone out there is enjoying my work.

 Tales of Oakwood Hall - Book 2: Faeflight has begun!

    For the first time in her life, Caley Reid has a home. Not just any home, a home filled with magic, ghosts, fairies, and other wonders that she never dared dream were real.


    For the first time, she has real friends, some close enough that she considers them family. Sure, many of them aren''t actually human, but what does that matter? And she''s part of a community that that welcomed her with open arms and made sure she knew she had support if she needed it.


    But home, family, and community come with responsibilities, and nobody can adequately explain to her what those really are. Some of those responsibilities seem straightforward: protect her home, Oakwood Hall, and the neighboring village of Oakwood, where a fair percentage of the small population are related to her by blood or marriage. Others are nebulous and confusing: being a bridge between the mundane world and the magical one, and taking up her family''s traditional work as a neutral party for mediations and negotiations.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    And some are new to everyone: guiding the growing clan of fairies who asked for her protection; dealing with the supposedly friendly International Consortium of Organized Arcana, who have enslaved the remains of a clan of dusk foxes who used to be vassals of her family; or doing an apparently large favor for Oberon, Lord of the Seelie Court of the Sidhe. Those she''ll just have to figure out as she goes¡­


    Read it at: https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/105354/tales-of-oakwood-hall-book-2-faeflight</a>