Through the Glass, Darkly

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Derek’s recipe book: Roadblocks, part 6

Red Plum Muffins

Muffins are always a delicious treat in autumn, and if you can find red plums at this time, you’ll be getting them when they’re at their best. One of these, warmed up on a cold autumn morning is just the fortification you need for the crushing disappointment of a giant lesbian destroying your prize from the fair.

Ingredients:

2 c. good quality flour

2 tsp. baking powder

½ tsp. baking soda

½ c. sugar (I know this doesn’t look like a lot of sugar, but the plums give nice sweetness)

2 eggs

½ c. light-flavored olive oil (make sure it’s light-flavored; we’re not making a salad)

1 c. yogurt (if using Greek yogurt, also add 1 T. of milk or buttermilk)

8 small or 6 medium Satsuma plums, chopped into small pieces

Belgian pearl sugar

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Sift the flour, baking powder, and baking soda into a large bowl, then stir in the sugar. In a separate bowl or measuring jug, whisk together the eggs, olive oil, and yogurt until smooth.

Pour the yogurt mixture into the dry ingredients. Slowly, very slowly, stir the yogurt mixture into the dry ingredients in the large bowl, until just combined. If you overstir these even the tiniest bit, it will make the muffins denser than Day’s big fat stupid head.

Gently, with as few turns as possible, stir in the plums. Fill the muffin cups; the recipe makes 8 large or 12 regular muffins. Gently crush the Belgian pearl sugar in a mortar and pestle and sprinkle it on top.

Bake muffins for 18 to 20 minutes, until golden brown (if making large muffins, you may need to bake them slightly longer). Remove them from the tray and let cool just slightly before serving.

Serves 8-12 disappointed fairgoers

[throughtheglassdarkly]

Roadblocks, part 6

Welcome back. When last you were here, we made sure Yova and Marigold would be able to bump clams in peace. Onward.

Our next misadventure got underway less than a week later. Though it was one of those weeks that just draaaaaagged. It almost felt like a year passed.

I was the one who got the first inclination that something might be a little off. I’d had a busy, if not particularly eventful day, and finished off the evening giving my nightly report to Adrian via Paisley. I settled in for the evening and fell asleep, which is when things got weird. I’ve mentioned how we’re lucid dreamers and can more or less change our dreams however we want. What was weird was how understated my dream that night was. It was pitch-black, aside from a few grayish light sources, and all I could make out was a box in the vague distance.

I made my way to the box, hearing upbeat music get slowly louder as I did. The box itself was about five feet tall, painted red, with cracked, dimly-lit lights lining each edge, going up about halfway. The top half was clear, and inside was an animatronic. It looked just like one of those Zoltar fortuneteller machines, except that the animatronic inside looked exactly like Adrian. I summoned up a quarter – sometimes lucid dreaming comes in handy – and put it in the slot. As I did, a prerecorded voice that sounded almost like Adrian, if it hadn’t been so lifeless, said, “A familiar face awaits you.” And where the fortune would normally pop out on a little piece of paper, instead I saw a ticket with floral embellishments around the side and elegant letters read, “ADMIT ONE: SMILE LAND.”

I had never heard of Smile Land before, and seeing this pastiche of Adrian, trapped inside a cage and forced to give fortunes, made my stomach hurt. So I pushed it away. I drove away the darkness and conjured up memories of my favorite running path in the Adirondacks, a place with beautiful vistas overlooking the autumn foliage and under clear, cold skies. It was a place I wanted desperately to take Adrian to, and it felt more real and permanent than most of the other dreams I’d had. I woke up the next morning remembering everything in perfect clarity.

But while my dream was weird, it was far from the weirdest thing that had ever happened. And I wasn’t the only one who had things going on. As it turned out, it was Day who got the most specific instructions. Bella had brought coffee over and was sorting through his paperwork, only to spot some official correspondence from the Autumn Court. Opening it up, she found a stiff-sounding letter from Stella that said, in about 800 times the words, “This might be nothing, it might be something, you should look into it.”

Bella turned and, in her usual dulcet tones, bellowed, “DAAaaaaAAAAaaaaAAAAAaaaaAAAAAAY! You got a letter!” Day grumbled from where he was halfway through nursing his hangover and Bella walked over, smacking the letter on his chest. Day read through it and found out there were a few odd disappearances in the area that Stella had become aware of. Given that Day made it his business to continue the investigative bent, she decided to reach out to him first. The missing folks didn’t seem to have a lot in common: one was a woman in her mid-60s, one was a college-aged dude, and the last was a random office-worker. They weren’t similar in any way, shape, or form, but they each had one thing in common: before they disappeared, each one mentioned that they had been hearing really strange music at random times and it was starting to get to them.

Day pulled up the databases and began checking where each of the three missing people lived. “Do you need me to call the others?” Bella asked him. “Nah, I’ll look into it,” he said. Bella made a big show of picking up his coffee mug and saying, “You’re the boss man around here, I’m just your lowly secretary making sure everything here stays neat and organized.” “Lowly secretary, my ass,” Day grumbled, heading out the door. He decided to start at the retirement community the older woman lived at.

From the outside, her home looked like every other one on the block, and he managed to pick the lock on the front door after a couple of minutes. Inside was a very neat apartment in cream and lace, decorated in stereotypical old lady Precious Moments style. Looking around, he didn’t notice much out of place. But then, after a minute, he started to hear a faint tune, almost like an ice cream truck jingle. It was there, and then gone.

On leaving, Day bumped into one of the missing woman’s neighbors and asked him if he’d noticed anything out of the ordinary. He mentioned that he did happen to spot something near where they both put out their garbage cans. He handed over a tattered, stained piece of paper, which read “SMILE LAND: ADMIT ONE.” Yeah. The neighbor said he’d asked around at the community hall and nobody had heard of Smile Land before. He hadn’t seen any advertisements for it and nobody had been talking about it. The last time he’d seen her was about a week ago, standing outside her front door looking dazed, like her head was in the clouds.

Day got back in his car and called Bella, asking her if she’d heard of any new carnivals or circuses in town, instructing her to look into Smile Land. “Aye-aye, captain,” Bella said, pulling up our old friend Professor Google. There weren’t any results, but the more Bella thought about it, she was almost sure she’d heard the name Smile Land before when helping Marigold sort through some documents. So she gave our resident librarian a ring.

And where was Marigold during all this, you ask? At the gym, cheering on Yova as she went through her boxing routine. Ever since they’d decided to make it official, they had been nauseatingly cute and by each other’s side almost all the time. Marigold wasn’t too busy to take Bella’s call, and when Bella asked her about the Smile Land ticket, Marigold perked right up.

“Oh, that’s a very interesting story!” she said. “No one that I know of has actually been there, so I can’t say for certain if the information is 100% accurate, but from what I hear, it’s a sort of – well, it’s like a Hollow, but bigger, within the Hedge.” “A Tardis?” Bella asked. “Well, no. Hollows are maybe a room or two, maybe the size of a small house. This is an entire area that has a hobgoblin, or someone, I’m not really sure, in charge. A few people have been there. It’s sort of set up like a fair,” Marigold said. “Oh, it’s like an amusement park!” Bella said, perking right up at the thought of fried food. “Yes, exactly. Why do you ask?” Marigold asked. Bella went over Day’s job and how he asked her to help him find it out. Marigold perked up again and told Bella that she needed to make another call and to wish Day good luck on his investigation. “Tell Yova not to do anything I wouldn’t do,” Bella said.

Yova came over for a breather around this time and Marigold looked up and said, “Bella says hi, and ‘Get it, girl,’” Marigold reported. Yova gave her a wink and said, “Well, I think I’ve gotten it,” and I’m sorry if you need to go throw up from the cuteness, I am merely the chronicler, what do you want from me.

And it was at this point that Marigold made a call to one of the other changelings in the Autumn Court, a Beast Leechfinger by the name of Dr. Alexander Dickinson. Now, how to give you the full Dr. Alexander experience? To describe him as unpleasant and lacking any interpersonal skills would be like saying the Hinderberg was just a little static cling. Maybe it’s best just to give you their conversation.

On answering, Dr. Alexander asked Marigold what she wanted. “I know that you’re interested in biology and that sort of science and, well, some of my friends are apparently looking into a carnival or fair,” Marigold said. “Can’t say I’ve heard of a carnival that has much medical interest going on,” Dr. Alexander said. “Well, they should have sideshows and curiosity cabinets and that sort of thing,” Marigold said. “And with enough makeup, any poodle can look like a pig. What’s your point?” Dr. Alexander asked. “Well, I was just trying to be nice. I thought it might be something to look into for your research,” Marigold said, hanging up and harrumphing.

Yova’s girlfriend-in-distress sense was tingling, so she took a break from beating the crap out of her trainer and went over. “Someone was rude to you,” she said, drawing herself up to her six and a half feet of height. “I try to be nice, and I try to be helpful, and –” Marigold began, before being interrupted by her phone ringing.

“What sort of friends?” Dr. Alexander asked, when she answered. “Well, it’s, um, some of the other Court changelings. They’re new here. Bella is with the Spring Court, and if she’s asking about it, I assume her motley is as well.” Dr. Alexander asked her where we were going to be meeting and she told him she’d pass along the word to all of us to meet at the Autumn Court lodge.

Which, spoiler alert, we did. None of the rest of us had much going on, and I had just baked a batch of delicious muffins, so we piled in, congregating around the large fireplace in the lodge foyer. And it was around then that Dr. Alexander Dickinson arrived. To give you an idea of what he looks like, picture average height and build, a very reptilian appearance, wearing lab coat and slacks. The worst part is that his hands each have lamprey mouths in them. You learn quickly not to shake hands with him.

I tried to be friendly and asked, “Hey, doc, want a muffin?” “No, thank you,” he said. “Do your hands want a muffin?” I asked. Yova stood and held out her hand, unwisely, saying, “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.” “Of course you haven’t had the pleasure. He’s not your type,” Day quipped.

Once the introductions were out of the way, Marigold explained that Dr. Alexander asked that she call us all there. Bella brought up Smile Land, which almost made me choke, and I spent the next few minutes coughing a bite of muffin out of my lungs. Marigold explained what Smile Land was: “At least from what I’ve managed to read about, it’s sort of like a fair, circus thing. House of horrors, sideshow, animals, things like that. I thought Dr. Alexander might be interested since he has an interest in fae biology. It might be a place he could do some research. I know that those places, they tend to have – or exploit, rather – things of strange physiological nature.”

I managed to clear the muffin from my airway and told them about my dream from the night before. “Well, that certainly seems like more than serendipity,” Yova said. Day brought up the letter he got about the disappearances the Autumn Court wanted him to look into. He explained how none of them had anything in common other than the weird music they were hearing. Pam brought up the possibility that since this was involving the Hedge, there might have been a chance that we were looking into changelings, not regular humans. As we discussed possibly going to take a look, a chill of dread went up each of our spines. There was only one person I knew of who could project that much horror and dismay in her mere presence.

So I turned and said, “Hey, Stella. Muffin?” “No, thank you,” she said. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. Detective, I’m quite pleased you got on this so quickly. It was faster than I expected. And you even got Alexander out of his notes. How pleasing.” “Yeah, that was my plan all along,” Day said, shooting his gaze from side to side. “Oh, you don’t have to make excuses, it’s just a pleasant surprise. Good morning, Alexander,” she said. Alexander nodded. Those of us in the Autumn Court are the best at pleasantries. Stella looked at us and said, “I would just like to note that from what we could gather, I’m fairly sure those who disappeared are not changelings, just humans. IT was the manner of their disappearance that caused our concern.” And then she floated backward out of the foyer, floated backward up the stairs, floated backward into her office, and the door closed without anyone touching it.

There was little else to do at this point but go off to the carnival. Marigold elected to stay behind, explaining that she didn’t have any particular interest in going herself and she trusted Yova to come back with a full report. As we moved out of the lodge and into the Hedge, I closed my eyes, trying to remember the feeling of the ticket and what it looked like. The music that came from the automated Adrian and the sound of his voice. After a few moments, I had a strange sense of direction – not really a cardinal direction, more of a sense of “this is where we need to go.” I opened my eyes and looked over my shoulder, telling everyone, “Follow me.” And we set out into the Hedge.

 For the first forty minutes or so, everything was fine. We were still in the area of the Hedge considered close to the human world. As we got further out and it was less charted and wilder, the briars started getting larger and blocking out more of the sun until we were in an area where we couldn’t really see anything through the briars and brambles and thorns. The vines got wider and harder to avoid. The path became less obvious, and while most of us were able to keep on it just fine, Yova and Dr. Alexander fell behind a bit and got distracted by some sounds, the cawing of what they described as large birds rustling in the thorns. As they were looking around, the brambles lifted up from the ground and tripped them up a bit, falling further behind. They were able to eventually catch up, but were definitely scraped up in the process.

It took about another hour for us to find ourselves in a place where the thorns started clearing out. We couldn’t see the sky through the canopy of vines, but the ground itself was much clearer, and there was a light up ahead on the path. And once again, I hear the creepy calliope music, slightly out of tune. There was a molded metal gate and a large wooden fence going out and extending as far as the eye could see. The gate had a filigree motif going up at least fifteen feet, much higher than it needed to be. The metal was molded to say “SMILE LAND” and had flags flying from it. A hobgoblin, much taller than we were used to seeing, was dressed in red and white vertical stripes, hunched over a little ticket booth.

As we gathered and took in the thoroughly depressing sight, Yova sighed, “Why does nobody ever tune their calliope?” “You know,” I said, “I’ve always said that is one of the most pressing issues we’re facing today. We need to get these kids off the mindset that they have to go to college and send them to calliope tuning school. Calliope tuners are going to solve the unemployment problem.” Yova gave me her patented listen-here-you-little-shit look that was only interrupted by the goblin addressing us.

He smiled wider than his face should have been able to accommodate, saying, “Customers, welcome! Step right up! Welcome to Smile Land, the happiest place in the Hedge!” “Hardly a high bar, is it?” Dr. Alexander asked. Oh, we pride ourselves on being the most fantastical location of entertainment for miles, kilometers, leagues, whatever form of measurement. You’ll find no more a magical or whimsical place than this,” the goblin replied. “I take it cash will work?” Dr. Alexander asked. “All we ask in return is your happiness,” the hobgoblin said, grinning even wider. “I have cash,” Dr. Alexander said.

As we walked through the gates, we saw a plethora of people. There were some goblins, some obviously fae-touched though it was impossible to tell the origin, and a good number who were obviously human. The humans all looked dazed and not quite lucid. In fact, most of the fairgoers didn’t really look lucid. It was like they were moving about in a daze. Bella scanned the crowd and said, “They look like they know where they are, but they don’t look like they’re awake. They almost look like they’re sleepwalking.”

Around us were the usual carnival staples. There was a large selection of carnival games with barkers of fae origin. Most of them looked like goblins, some were changelings, but they were all drawing customers in who seemed to be participating in the games in a half-hearted way. There was a large circus tent near the center o the area and advertisements for a freak show, which, given the level of strangeness we were used to by now, made all of us wary. There was a Museum of Wonders that looked oddly like a Ripley’s Believe It or Not!, and a section of festival foods, though it had a very acrid smell wafting away from it.

We decided since there was so much ground to cover, the best thing to do would be to split into three pairs, and if we found one of our targets, to bring him or her back to the central area. Day had three pictures that he showed to each of us: an older woman with short, curly hair; a college dude with a linebacker build; and a middle-aged guy with a tragic combover.

Day and Dr. Alexander headed for the freak show. There were advertisements for the standard array of freaks: the strong man, the bearded lady, the sword-swallower, though the pictures hinted that none of them were quite as tame as you would see in the human world. The barker encouraged the crowds to come in and Day and Dr. Alexander shuffled along with them into a long, tented hallway. At first, things didn’t look too egregious. There were a few strange-looking hedgebeasts tied up and looking absolutely miserable. A few contortionist hobgoblins contorting in ways that bodies shouldn’t. They spotted one changeling with a more human appearance than they others they had seen who had a rubbery sheen and appeared to be the sword-swallower act. The sword wasn’t piercing it, but was stretching its neck down to the floor. It wasn’t able to let any noise out around the steel.

Further in, Dr. Alexander spotted a humanoid thing that had been carefully vivisected with each layer of it stretched out like a page in a book. It moved from the skin down to the muscles and the skeleton and organs, which were still pulsating and moving. Its eyes were darting around, looking at the passersby. There was no expression because the face muscles were held in place by wires. I have no idea how this didn’t hit him hard as a Beast – I almost barfed when he told me about it. But he just started making hasty diagrams. Day didn’t pay a huge amount of attention, because across the way, he spotted the linebacker college student.

Bella and Pam, especially Bella, wanted to go into the Museum of Wonders. Bella pulled Pam by the hand toward it and inside. Unlike most of the rest of the tents, the museum was an actual building. Once they were inside, they were able to see some rides that weren’t visible form the entrance. Moving through the exhibits, they saw a bunch of magical items and knick-knacks, though nothing as impressive as they would have expected from the name.

Eventually, they arrived in the center room, which had a shut door and a sign above it reading “THE DREAMATORIUM.” Here, they saw little crystals lining the walls, almost like a honeycomb pattern. Each crystal was about the size of a fist, with a very flat surface and bevels on each end. Though they were about the same size, they were all different shapes and colors. Within each one, they could see first-person views of things. None of what they saw was magical, but they seemed to be important events: one had a beautiful ocean vista, another was staring down at a first-place medal in a hand, another had two hands out with a laughing, smiling baby bouncing up and down in the air.

Bella realized what was going on – she was seeing the happy memories of all the fairgoers. She looked back and Pam and said, “They said all the admission costs is your happiness. These are people’s happiness.” Pam made a very mom, “Mmmm,” before saying, “That doesn’t seem like a good thing for them to have here.” “I don’t think this is a good place to begin with,” Bella said. Around this time, they realized that everyone in the museum was a fae nature and they decided to skedaddle before they got into trouble.

Team Gay decided to head to the games and carnival barkers. As we walked along, we could see the standard games: toss the rings or darts at balloons, what have you. Then there were the ones that were a little more exotic looking. There was a dunking booth with a squirmy little hobgoblin above a tank of what could only be described as eau de goblin pee. We could smell something that vaguely resembled fair food. Or maybe “food” would be more accurate. It smelled fried, but the oil didn’t seem right. Not like it was rancid, just off somehow. There were goblins and changelings of all shapes and sizes shouting for people to come play the games, but everyone doing so just seemed like they were going through the motions.

“Ugh, this is gross. I didn’t even like the fair when I was human,” I said as we moved through. “I mean, I played a few fairs, but they weren’t like this,” Yova said. It took me a moment to realize what she was saying and then I looked up and asked, “Did you play the Ren Faire? Oh, my God, you totally played the Ren Faire.” “Well, of course I did,” she said indignantly. “It was a gig and Julliard isn’t cheap!”

We probably would have continued bickering if our eyes hadn’t alighted on the older woman from the pictures sitting at one of the water gun games. She and the other patrons weren’t making much progress, but they just kept playing it. And it was then that I looked up and saw what they were playing for. There was some costume jewelry in all shades of the rainbow that was the grand prize and IT WAS SO SHINY but Yova literally tackled me right as I was about to sit down in one of the open seats.

The goblin running the game tipped his hat and said, “Well, that’s a shame. It looks like your friend wants to play.” I gave Yova my friendliest smile, which has on occasion caused small children to burst into tears and made adults offer me Advil. Yova, however, just sighed and sat me down and I eagerly took the controls. And I kicked their sorry asses. The little water balloon rose up and up and I beat them all by a healthy margin. The barker congratulated me and handed me the teensiest, tiniest little cheap crappy ring. It wasn’t shiny at all. I looked up, confused, and the barker pointed to the chart that showed prize progression, explaining that with a couple more tries I could win my way up. I looked over at the other competitors, who didn’t seem like they wanted to move at all. Everyone was waiting on me to see whether the game was going to start up again.

But I am nothing if not determined to get shinies. And I can’t really explain what it was that made me go along with it. The barker just seemed so convincing in his praise and his confidence that I’d be able to get the grand prize without any trouble at all. I wanted to play again. So we went.

While I was playing, Yova managed to strike up a conversation with the woman we were seeking. “That was a good run, you’re doing quite well at this. You seem very skilled,” she said. The woman gave her a wide smile, but it didn’t go above her mouth. “I’m having so much fun,” she said to Yova, before turning back to the game.

And I kept playing. The second time, I tied with one of the other players. And we kept going. I tied some, I won some, I lost some. What I didn’t notice, and which Yova had to point out to me, was that rather than everyone getting a separate prize as they won, the barker was just moving the same small ring around between whoever won most recently. She eventually stepped up to the barker as I was getting the ring back. As he looked away from me, the urge to play – other than my motivation for the shiny – was gone.

The barker asked Yova, “Can I help you, miss?” “Yes, you can,” she said, snatching the ring from my hand. She crushed it in her hand and blasted her Glamour, overwhelming the barker with her flaring aura. “I think all of these people have played enough for the day. Maybe some of the other patrons would like to patronize your lovely establishment?” The goblin gulped, looking like the vibration on a string instrument. He shooed us away from the game, starting his step-right-up routine to a new group.

Yova swept me away and put a companionable arm around the woman’s shoulder, steering her off the main thoroughfare. “You took my prize,” I said. “You weren’t going to win the jewelry, Derek,” she said. “I won that. It was mine,” I said. “I’ll give you a quarter to use on a gumball machine when we get back,” she said. I gritted my teeth and started grimly singing, “Toss a coin to your witcher, o valley of plenty, o valley of plenty.”

While this was going on, Pam and Bella exited the Museum of Wonders, ending up closer to the rides section. Both of them were feeling off about what they saw in the Dreamatorium so they sought out anything that might be distracting. They were near the ride area, which seemed like the most standard part of the entire place. There was a Tilt-A-Whirl, a Scrambler, a House of Mirrors, all looking a lot ricketier than even the usual traveling fair. The closest ride was a massive Ferris wheel, creaking as the cars circled around. It jerked with every stop to let more riders on. And, just stepping on to take his turn at the Ferris wheel, was the middle-aged dude with the combover.

Bella and Pam quietly conferred on what to do. “Should I be loud or quiet?” Bella asked. “Let’s let fate decide,” Pam said, pulling a nickel out of her coin purse. She flipped it and it came up tails for loud. Bella started running toward him, yelling, “HEY SIR EXCUSE ME SIR!” She jumped at him, managing to get his attention, along with the attention of everybody else in the Western Hemisphere. She gave him a big grin and he looked at her, blinking with glazed-over eyes. Everyone was staring at her. “Are you having fun? Let’s go on the Ferris wheel together!” she yelled. The operator, a Wizened changeling woman around Pam’s age, if a bit taller, was looking at Bella almost in awe. “There’s so much life in you!” she said. She and the other fairgoers were all staring at Bella and she could hear chatter amongst them as she got on.

Pam, meanwhile, moved over to the changeling running the Ferris wheel and ensnared her in the honeypot of Minnesota Nice conventional talk, asking how long she’d been working there, if she could use a break, if they were treating her right. God bless Pam and her ability to talk about nothing forever. As the car that Bella and combover guy were on lifted up, the operator pulled Pam aside and said, “Listen, let me give you a piece of advice. All of us working here, we’re here ‘cause we wanna be. But if you’re not here ‘cause you wanna be, I’m gonna suggest you try to get out of here pretty quickly.” Pam thanked her and said she needed to round up her friends. “Oh, you’re gonna wanna grab them and haul ass real quick,” the woman said. “Especially your friend up there.”

Speaking of Pam’s friend up there, Bella was being stared at in awe by combover dude, who asked her how she feels so happy. “I always try to feel happy, even when I’m sad, and I’ve been sad a lot lately. I use it as a coping mechanism so I don’t recognize the emotional trauma I’ve been through recently,” Bella chirped. He asked her if it was possible for her to feel happy and she asked him what made him not feel happy. He thought back hard. “I don’t remember,” he said after a long moment. “Well, do you know who you are? What’s your name? Do you like anything special, chocolate or ice cream?” Bella asked. He closed his eyes and thought very hard. “My name is… Jason?” He sounded unsure and Bella continued to ask him about his life, if he could give her any details. He kept thinking as hard as he could and admitted he didn’t remember much about what he liked or didn’t like. He couldn’t remember anything about himself, other than his first name. After a while, Bella said that they needed to figure it out. “You’re going to help me find happy?” He asked. “We can try,” she said. “A lot of people will try to take your happy away from you. It almost happened to me. You don’t want it to happen to you.”

They reached the bottom of the Ferris wheel and the operator told them it was time for them to let some other people get a ride. Bella interlocked her fingers with Jason’s so as to not lose him, and walked him off the ride. She introduced him to Pam, who suggested that they start walking and see if they could find us. Pam, of course, had a bar in her purse, and she handed it over. Bella took it and gave it to Jason, telling him that Pam’s bars always made her happy. He bit into it an the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. “This is a good start,” he said.

Pam and Bella met up with Team Gay at the meeting spot, where we were still sniping at each other and I had moved onto “Scarborough Fair.” Bella took the bar and handed it over to Priscilla, the older lady who we had found, but it didn’t seem to have the same effect on her. We were all realizing that the fair was stealing emotions, and the longer we were to stay, the more emotions it would steal from us. If we stayed long enough, we’d end up emotionless husks like the people wandering about.

Back in the freakshow, Dr. Alexander was still very busy taking notes on the vivisectioned creature. He looked up after a long while only to realize that he’d lost sight of Day. When he went looking for Day, he managed to find some taxidermied creatures that he started going over intently, noting the aspects of their biology which didn’t seem to make sense by any medical standard he knew. After about another fifteen minutes of this, he spotted a couple of carnival employees whispering among themselves and pointing at him. One of them, a Blunderboar – the same sort of gorilla creature who snagged Bella and Day back in Arcadia – started making his way toward Dr. Alexander. He didn’t approach at first, he just seemed to be trying to figure out what the good doctor was doing (something that has eluded the entire Autumn Court, to be fair).

After a few minutes, the Blunderboar stepped between Dr. Alexander and the exhibit, only for the doctor to take a step to the left and continue taking notes. “Sir, you need to move along,” the Blunderboar said. “Any reason why? I paid my admission,” Dr. Alexander said. “You’re holding up traffic,” the Blunderboar said. Dr. Alexander lifted his head at that and glanced around. Not only did people seem very easily to be abele to move around him, but there weren’t a huge number in this part of the tent anyway.

“It doesn’t appear that way. I could take a step forward, if you like,” Dr. Alexander said, stepping forward. The Blunderboar attempted to pick him up by the front of his collar, lifting him a few inches off the ground and moving him away from the exhibit. “We don’t want the likes of you around here,” the Blunderboar said. Dr. Alexander held up his lamprey hand and said, “Let go of my shirt. The only reason I am bothering with this farce you call an exhibit is because you’ve saved me a few hours of dissection time. You can leave me to my work and I’ll move along in my own due fashion or… no, that’s really the end of that line of options.”

The guard attempted to walk him toward the exit, but Dr. Alexander whipped himself around his back, grabbing his arm and pulling it behind his back. “As I told you before, I’m busy,” he said. The Blunderboar grunted to the other guard, “Pibbs! Go get backup!”

It was around this time that the rest of us saw the goblin in red and white rush past us toward the entrance, yelling about a rowdy guest in one of the exhibits. “Oh, my God, it’s Day,” I groaned. “Oh, God. Pam, Bella, you stay here with them. Derek, come with me,” Yova said. We darted off in the direction the goblin ran from, seeing a few more Blunderboars start descending on the tent. “Five bucks says Day got his head stuck in something. And I’m not specifying which head,” Yova said. I gave her a look of absolute contempt and said, “You are disgusting. You’re on.”

What we didn’t know until later was that while this was going on, another changeling, a quiet Darkling who was mostly hidden in an outfit of patched rags, had been working for hours to feed the workers at the carnival. We’ll call him Kevin, because that is his name. Kevin had been slinging slop for a long time and stepped out to grab a breath of fresh air, when he heard some chatter among two of the goblin employees who were sitting and having a snack. One asked the other if he’d heard what was going on down at the sideshow. “Apparently some of the customers are, like, standing up for themselves. Weird, right?” Kevin listened to them talk about how long it had been since that happened and placing bets about how long it took security to get things under control.

Curiosity got the best of Kevin, and he made his way over to see what the hullabaloo was about, going through the employee entrance. It was around that time that he spotted a group of several changelings, including me and Yova. We had maneuvered our way through the rather disgusting exhibits and were surprised to find that nothing was on fire, nor in pieces. We arrived to find Dr. Alexander, with a rather firm grip on the Blunderboar as he calmly took notes. Yova had a surprised Pikachu face as she surveyed the scene.

“You owe me five bucks,” I told her. “Yes. Yes, I do,” she agreed, moving forward to try and talk our way out of this miserable situation. “Doctor, as much as I hate to interrupt this tableau, you’ve acquired the attention of the bouncers and we need to leave,” she said. “Also, where’s Day?” I asked. “Yes, we were expecting to see Day here, with his head stuck in something,” Yova said. “Oh, he’s gone. Somewhere,” Dr. Alexander said, looking around the Blunderboar and continuing to try and take notes.

Yova looked over at me and said, “I’ll handle things here, you go and find Day.” “Why do I have to go and find Day?” I asked. “This place is screaming front for snatching people and sending them to Arcadia!” “Derek, please,” Yova said, teeth gritted. “Fine,” I said, “but if I get snatched and pulled back, I’m going to haunt your toilet.” “I’ll wear a mysterious veil to your funeral,” she said dryly.

It was around this time that Kevin hurried over and tried to separate Dr. Alexander from the Blunderboar he had in the hold. “Hey, come on, no violence!” he said, trying to push them apart. He isn’t very strong, so it… didn’t work. “I’m not being violent, I’m being busy. And you’re jostling my pen,” Dr. Alexander said. “Doctor, I understand you’re dedicated to your research, but now is not the time for this,” Yova said. “Then when is?” he asked her. She took a moment to take in a deep breath and press her index fingers against the bridge of her nose. “You know,” she said, “I understand the saying of a day without learning is a wasted day or some such shit, but I’d prefer to live to see another day, so let’s just go and stop distressing this poor man’s friend.”

We finally managed to get Dr. Alexander away from the Blunderboar and beat tracks as a few others were coming in. Kevin seemed to be moving along with us, so I turned to him and said, “Hey, you haven’t seen a big guy around here? Looks like he’s made of stone, loud, obnoxious voice, wearing a Hawaiian shirt?” He seemed very unsure of himself, but said that he hadn’t.

We emerged out of the sideshow tent, with two of our targets in hand, but missing Day. We knew we were not going to leave him in there, so we quickly made our way back to Bella and Pam to regroup and figure out our next move.

And that’s a good enough place to stop for now. Until next time, be safe, and may you never have a shiny snatched from you by a gargantuan Ren Faire reject.

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We’re coming back!

So, hey! It’s been a long, long time, almost 11 months since my last post. Our game has been on hiatus this while because our GM was busy creating a small human being. But within the next couple of weeks, The Edge of Thorns will kick back into gear. There are a couple of shifts in PCs which I’ll detail at the beginning of Derek’s next recap. We’re all really looking forward to getting to play this band of merry idiots again and hopefully you’re all looking forward to reading about them once more. See you soon, guys!

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Tsaryova’s Symphony: Roadblocks, part 5

The tallest, most elegant pianist in all the land shares her music picks for each session. This week, a loving if melancholy denouement to Yova’s confrontation with her Fetch and subsequent life-affirming makeout with Marigold.

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Derek’s recipe book: Roadblocks, part 5

Quiche Lorraine

Because brunch wouldn’t be brunch without quiche.

Pie dough or a prepared frozen pie crust

½ lb. bacon

1 c. milk

½ c. heavy cream

3 eggs

½ tsp. salt

½ tsp. black pepper

1/8 tsp. ground nutmeg

1 c. grated gruyere

1 heaping tablespoon chopped chives

Roll out the dough, form it into a tart pan, and freeze. If you are making your own pie crust, roll out the pie dough into a 12-inch round. Place it in a 10-inch wide, 1 ½-inch high tart pan, pressing the dough into the corners. Use a rolling pin to roll over the surface of the tart pan to cleanly cut off the excess dough from the edges.

Freeze the dough at least half an hour before blind-baking, which is essentially pre-baking the frozen crust. This is an important step, so don’t skip it: if you just pour the custard in, the pie dough won’t cook all the way through and trust me from experience when I say nobody likes a soggy bottom.

If you’re using a store-bought frozen crust, follow the directions on the package for pre-baking. If you’re pre-baking a homemade crust, preheat the oven to 350 F, line the frozen crust with heavy-duty aluminum foil (allowing a couple of inches to extend beyond the sides of the tart pan) and fill the pan with dry beans, sugar, or rice. This weighs the dough down and keeps it from rising. Bake for 40 minutes, then remove from the oven, remove the pie weights and foil, and set aside.

While the crust is blind-baking, heat a large frying pan on medium heat. Arrange the strips of bacon in a single layer on the bottom of the pan (you’re probably going to have to work in batches). Slowly cook the bacon, turning the strips over occasionally until they are brown and very crisp. You don’t want any play here – bacon should be cooked until it shatters when it hits the plate.

Lay the cooked strips of bacon on a paper towel to absorb the excess fat. Pour the fat out of the pan into a jar (not down the drain, unless you want to clog the pipes) for future use, or wait until it solidifies and discard it in the trash. Chop the cooked bacon into ¼-inch to ½-inch pieces.

Preheat the oven to 350 F (if you blind-baked, you can just leave the oven on until you’re ready to cook the quiche).

Whisk the eggs in a large bowl. Add the nutmeg, salt, black pepper, and chives, and whisk a little more. Add the milk and cream and whisk vigorously to incorporate and introduce air into the mix. This keeps the texture of the quiche light and fluffy, which is pretty much the only consolation you have in your miserable life.

Arrange the bacon and cheese in the bottom of the pie crust. Whisk the egg-milk mixture hard again for a few seconds, then pour it gently into the pie crust.  You want the bacon and cheese to be suspended in the mix, so you might need to gently stir it around just a little. You also want the chives, which will float, to be evenly arranged on top, so move them around with a spoon until you like where they are.

Put the quiche into the preheated oven and bake for 30-40 minutes. Check for doneness after 30 minutes by gently jiggling the quiche. It should still have just a little wiggle and will finish setting while it cools. If it’s still quite loose, keep cooking, but check in it every five minutes or so until it’s ready. Cool on a wire rack, then serve with a nice green salad, French bread, and a glass of chardonnay. Or an entire bottle, if you’re trying to explain to Day why if he likes pie, eggs, cheese, and bacon, he shouldn’t have any goddamn issue eating your quiche.

Serves five members of a changeling motley and one crazy-ass Fetch

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Roadblocks, part 5.1

Welcome back. When last you were here, we whacked Aurora and made some s’mores. Onward.

Suffice it to say, after dealing with Aurora for the final time, all of us wanted to just head off our separate ways. I had the most uneventful evening, babysitting Gershwin and sitting at my table with a bunch of notes in front of me, trying to make connections with what Amberleigh was, what the pledge she’d made the other changelings in her service take meant, and if there was anything we could do to help clear it up. I didn’t make much progress – my head was still swimming from everything that had happened earlier.

Pam did end up staying at Brenda’s, watching Turner Classic Movies and exchanging home decorating tips. She told Brenda that she thought her house was charming and Brenda was over the moon because none of her friends liked her house. “You know, I’m kind of glad Day didn’t show up, because I’d never hear the end of it if he saw this place,” she said.

While they were in the middle of watching The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, Pam felt a needling sensation at the back of her head, similar to how her Fetch occasionally send a message. She let the feeling in and before she realized it, she wasn’t in Brenda’s living room anymore: she was back in her own living room in Minnesota, her husband’s arm around her, two of the kids there. They were having a family movie night. She looked over at Sierra, who wasn’t watching the movie as much as looking over the program for the camp Yova recommended for her. She was going off about how excited she was and showing all the cool programs and activities and all the visiting actors. Pam heard her own voice, but not quite her own voice, in the back of her head: “I thought you’d appreciate this.” The Fetch had heard somehow through the grapevine that something had happened to Aurora and thanked Pam for it.

Pam tried to think hard to send a message about how her Fetch didn’t have to worry any more about Aurora showing up and tearing everything apart. She got a flash of someone sitting in a bed in a very plain, white room with a flower vase next to her. It was very dark; all Pam could see was moonlight coming through the window and the silhouette of the person. But as the figured turned over and started to lie down, Pam got an image of Yova’s old face. Another thought came through to her: “This one might not be so okay. Be careful.” She snapped back into Brenda’s living room right in the middle of the Mexican standoff scene.

Yova herself wasn’t entirely all right, either. She headed over to Marigold’s place, not in the best headspace and still clad in the bloody clothes she was wearing. It was her first time going to Marigold’s apartment, which she said was absolutely precious, including the giant autumn wreath on the door. Marigold was in a plaid nightgown and her hair was down around her shoulders in thick waves. She was delighted to see Yova, but clearly concerned about the bloodstains. “You’re just in time, I made some cocoa, if you want some!” she said. “That sounds lovely, darling,” Yova said. Marigold asked if she wanted whipped cream and Yova just managed a nod.

Marigold poured her a lovely glass of whipped cream with a few tablespoons of cocoa, and as Yova sat down, she realized her shirt was still covered with blood. She kicked herself mentally. Marigold seemed to realize what was on her mind and asked if Yova wanted to throw it in the laundry. They had some nauseatingly sweet banter about how Marigold’s nightgowns would be about the size of one of Yova’s shirts, then Yova kissed her forehead and took off the shirt, having a tank top underneath.

“So is this something I can ask about or is it not good?” Marigold asked hesitantly after a second. Yova leaned back, sighed, and said, “I’ve mentioned to you briefly the changeling who coaxed me beyond the Hedge? Well, she didn’t just coax me. She dealt with me directly, but either directly or indirectly, she was responsible for my entire motley being sent into Arcadia. And we confronted her tonight.” “Oh. So the blood is…” “Hers. I, uh, I suppose you could say I struck the killing blow. A Summer courtier took care of the body. One less loyalist we have to worry about. I’m glad we got to her when we did. She was in the process of making another Fetch. She was planning to take someone else soon.”

Marigold’s eyes went wide, then she squinted. Yova could see a few tears starting to form. She kicked herself again, apologized and went in to hug her. Marigold hugged back as tight as she possibly could and mumbled something into Yova’s shirt, though Yova couldn’t make it out since it was muffled to hell and back. Yova rocked her gently, humming to calm her down. After a minute or so, Marigold looked up, apologizing and saying, “You shouldn’t have to do things like that. None of us should have to do things like that.” Yova looked at her dead serious and said, “If it means keeping you safe, keeping the rest of the Courts safe, keeping my friend’s family safe, I don’t mind doing it.”

She wiped away a few more of Marigold’s tears and said that she didn’t want to be alone. “No. No, you shouldn’t be alone,” Marigold said, extracting herself and showing the cocoa at Yova. “You’re going to drink that and then I’m going to put something on the TV that’s a little funnier than what I was watching.” Yova put her arm around Marigold and said, “I came here because I wanted to be with you.” Marigold turned the color of an overripe tomato. Yova suggested that they just get caught up on whatever Marigold was watching and Marigold launched into a full explanation of Outlander. They settled in for a lovely evening of snuggling and watching fine period costume dramas.

Day had been spending most of his time staking out Bella’s family’s hotel. He’d gotten a tip that Aurora had been checking them out, so he was hanging out in the lobby, ensuring she didn’t show up. After a full night of nothing happening, he made his way back to his apartment to see a very sulky Bella sitting on his doorstep. When he approached, she looked up and said, “I brought wings and beer so you won’t kick me out right away.” “Okay. Wanted, hunted, or pregnant?” he asked. “None of the above,” she said. “Good, otherwise I’d say no. Come in.” His apartment was a sophisticated blend of dirty, messy, and filthy, though the kitchen was at least fit for sitting in.

Day took one of the beers and gave Bella a bottle of water, then told her to spill it. She told him the story of going to Aurora’s Hollow, finding the Fetch of her brother, and how she felt like she deserved to kill Aurora instead of Yova. “I wanted to beat the shit out of Yova for no reason. So I came here,” she said. Day stared at her for a good minute before he said, “Okay, so you went a little crazy. So you decided to lash out. So what? I know you care about all of us. I mean, that hasn’t changed, right?” Bella said that she felt like crap and Day told her that’s good, because the feelings she had before weren’t real. “If they were, you wouldn’t feel like that. So count your blessings and know that regardless of whatever you do, you’ll be forgiven. ‘Cause that’s what that whole motley bullshit means,” he said.

“So you’ll forgive me even if I clean up this shithole you call an apartment? And I put things in bags and places with labels and designated spots so you know where things are?” she asked, beaming up at him. “I’ll ask forgiveness over your corpse,” he said. They debated going to one of Day’s favorite classy joints, Beef, for Legs and Kegs and Eggs, but Bella said she just wanted to die. They agreed to just watch an old movie, eat those disgusting wings, and hang out.

And so a few days passed. Some of us had work, others needed to decompress, but we were all avoiding each other for the most part. It was Pam who sent out a group text, telling us we should meet to have brunch. The conversation went like follows:

Day: “Brunch?”

Me: “There’s alcohol at brunch.”

Day: “I’m in!”

We ended up meeting at Pam’s suggestion at a lovely little spot by the capitol building called the Iron Gate Café. The entrance was in an alley between two larger buildings with an iron gate in front of it and a beautiful little courtyard with outdoor seating. It was definitely too cold for that, so we went inside. Pam was the first one there and she got a table. Bella was hanging off Day’s arm and they were talking and laughing. Day ordered a beer and was completely dumbfounded. When Yova and I got there, he looked at us and said, “I don’t know how I never heard about this brunch thing.” He looked around and said, “Let’s see, gay, gay, lesbian, gay… did you guys know about this?”

Yova and I shared a look that clearly agreed we could not break the sacrosanct Gay Pact About Brunch. “You know, there are some things that are just lost to the sands of time,” I said. “It’s a mystery,” Yova said. “We’ve been gone two years…” “Things have changed…” Thankfully, we had a different waitress than the one we’d had the week prior. When he looked over the menu and saw all the different booze and breakfast items, Day was completely delighted. “Damn, brunch kicks ass!” he said.

After we got our drinks in and were looking over the menu, Day looked at us and asked, “So, anybody here pissed at Bella?” I downed an entire champagne-and-cranberry juice and Yova drank a colossal beer, because we were both way too sober for that conversation. After she let out a satisfying but very ladylike belch, Yova said, “I was just giving space where I thought space was warranted. Emotions were running high, there were a lot of conflicting feelings. I didn’t want to insert myself where I wasn’t wanted.”

Bella put down her menu and said that she didn’t know what came over her, that she felt horrible, and that she’d been spending the last few days cleaning Day’s house as penance. Yova topped off both our glasses and knocked hers back. “My concern isn’t your actions, Bella. My concern is that you’ve been out of sorts for a while and it seems like…” she trailed off. “You’re not yourself,” I chimed in. “You’re not yourself and you’re not doing anything about it. That’s my concern. I can take being lashed out at. I’m concerned this is a sign about something else going on that you’re not willing to admit,” Yova said.

Bella sighed and admitted that she knew something was wrong. “But I can’t exactly go to a therapist about it,” she said. “Well, there’s got to be at least somebody in the freehold who has a psych degree,” I said. When I said that, Pam’s eyes lit up, then Yova’s did a moment later. They looked at each other and Pam piped up, saying that from talking to people in the freehold, she’d heard that there was at least one therapist in the freehold in the Autumn Court. Yova asked if I could text Evain, and I pulled out my phone. Our messages are recorded below for posterity.

“JJ! She looks like a beagle!” I said triumphantly. A few people turned to look at me, but I had another drink to celebrate.

After we put our food orders in, Yova asked Pam if there was a reason she wanted to get together. Pam cleared her throat and said, “Actually, it’s about something you’ll want to know.” Yova flagged down the waitress and ordered a few more pitchers. Pam told us about how her Fetch let her know that Yova’s Fetch wasn’t doing well. “I know that. I’ve been calling and pretending to be her sister,” Yova said. “Did you actually talk to her?” Pam asked. “Oh, yes, once. It went dreadfully. She’s – how do I put this…” she trailed off again. “Bonkers?” I asked helpfully. “That’s the word,” Yova said.

After the pitchers came, Yova told us about how her Fetch got thrown into an extremely high-pressure situation and clearly couldn’t handle it. “I think when Aurora took me, she took all of my anxiety and put it into that person,” she said. She told us she checked in about once a week, trying to figure out how her Fetch was doing, and ensuring that she was still in one piece. With that, she looked to Pam and asked if she thought something else had happened to Yova’s Fetch.

“I’m just worried, because my Fetch seemed concerned about her,” Pam said. “Can they communicate?” Day asked. “I saw a vision of her, sitting in her room for now. She turned and looked over. There wasn’t too much to it, but it has me nervous,” Pam said. Yova poured herself another glass, but drank this one a bit more slowly and thoughtfully. Finally, she said, “I have thought to put in an anonymous call to my parents to see if they would come and do anything about her. But I don’t know if that would do anything, or if they would even respond or care or if they’re even in the same place they were when I last saw them.”

Between sips, Yova told us that when she first found out what her Fetch was like, she had a wild idea that they could go on their separate ways, but admitted she probably went about it too directly. “You can say that again,” Day said. I kicked him under the table. “Ow!” he said. Yova asked Pam what she thought she should do. “Do you want me to go and talk with her?” Pam asked. “I have to admit that she isn’t pleasant and probably has the worst parts of me all wrapped into one,” Yova said. Pam said that she thought she would visit, just to try and figure out what was going on and make sure there wasn’t anything that might come back to hurt Yova.

I could see that Yova was actually a little teary-eyed at that, though she did her best to blink them back. “If that’s the case, I can at least drive you up there,” she said. She wasn’t in any condition to do that at the moment because she and Day were completely blitzed. Pam ensured we all paid the bill and got on our way safely.

Neither Yova nor Day were in any condition to do anything that day, so we decided to hold off on any action. A couple of days passed, during which I was being a petty bastard messaging Yova about going to check on her Fetch. She stopped deigning to respond after I sent a message saying, “Hey, Nurse Ratched called, she said we should go check in.” So I realized it was time to bring in the big guns. I called Pam and told her I thought Yova needed a little encouragement to go check on her Fetch.

Click here for part two of this recap.

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Roadblocks, part 5.2

Yova was spending her lovely windy Wednesday afternoon alternating between spoiling Gershwin with new toys and plants for his terrarium and banging out “Crocodile Rock” on her piano to try and make my souffle fall (I never should have told her I hate Elton John). She almost missed the sound of the doorbell to her apartment, but stomped over, threw it open and sneered, “Oh, I’m so sorry, was that botheri- heeeelllo, Pam!” Pam beamed up at her and said, “Hello! I just heard from Derek and he was so concerned about you, so I thought I’d come over. I brought scones and bars!” Yova somehow managed to keep her hair from combusting into flames and invited Pam in.

Pam set things up in the kitchenette, putting it to good use (for once). She brought her own bean grinder and coffee beans to make coffee just how Yova liked and pulled out all the stops to make a nice little coffee party. It was around this time I asked Paisley to go up as a scout and let me know if Pam was there. She was eager as anything to go up, so we made our way upstairs. Yova opened the door and grinned, showing me every tooth in her mouth. “Deeeerek. What a pleasant surprise,” she said, molars grinding to dust. I grinned and held up a plate. “I brought mini quiches,” I said.

We stepped in and Paisley made a beeline for Gershwin’s new enclosure. I think Yova bought one of those giant saltwater fish tanks and converted it into his home. Paisley couldn’t stop herself from exploring and I caught her giving me a dirty look, clearly asking why I wasn’t stepping my pet owner game up. “Dude, don’t get used to it. I don’t have disposable pianist income,” I told her.

Once we settled down and had ourselves some coffee and bars and mini quiches, Pam asked Yova about her Fetch and how she was doing. “Oh, I’m fine. Honestly, I’d rather just leave it alone,” Yova said. Pam and I shared a look and I tried to lean on Yova, saying, “You know, I said pretty much the same thing. And that very nearly ended up blowing up in our faces,” I said. Yova sighed, leaned back in her chair and looked down in her coffee, saying, “I just want you to be prepared for it not to go well. I don’t know if she’s crazy or just putting on an act, by she is definitely self-aware enough to harm someone. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.” She looked up and asked, “And there’s no way I could persuade you to not go through with this?” Pam just shook her head.

Yova drained her coffee and leaned forward, taking a bar. “Honestly, I’ve considered calling my parents and seeing if they’d take her in,” she said, munching on it. I considered for a second and said, “Well, there’s nothing wrong with one of us calling and trying it out.” She sat there for a second, then got up, grabbed her phone and started typing in a number. She punched send and handed the phone over to me.

While we were dining on baked goods and angst, Bella and Day were hanging out at his office, where he was sitting at his desk with the fancy name plaque he splurged on and she was trying to convince him of the merits of setting up a Facebook page and handing out crappy flyers she designed herself. They both turned, surprised, when they heard the door opening. Day tried to get more presentable, tucking his shirt in, but much to their surprise, they both recognized who stepped in: it was Marigold, bundled up in a fluffy wool coat. Day relaxed and said, “Mary!” “My name’s… Marigold… not Mary,” she said hesitantly. “It’s – I was trying to –“ he sputtered. “Oh, it’s a nickname!” Marigold chirped. Bella told me she considered jumping out the window at this point.

Marigold wasn’t there on a social call, however: she wanted to hire day for an investigation. Day told her to take a seat and tell him exactly what was going on. Bella sat up straight with a proper secretary’s posture and started taking notes. Marigold sat down, looking nervous, and pulled out a piece of something electronic with some wires hanging off. She slid it across the table and said, “This fell out of one of the vents at my apartment while I was cleaning it.” Day looked at the device, which appeared to be a crude sort of microphone. “Well, it’s pretty cheap and staticky, probably wouldn’t pick up much outside of the room it was in. At least it’s not the FBI,” he said. “Why would you think it’s the FBI?! I’m careful about that!” Marigold yelped. “Jesus, Mary, it’s a joke,” he said.

He reassured her that the bug was just a basic device, and so she probably wasn’t dealing with someone who was a real professional. Marigold was a little relieved by that, but told him that she still wanted him to look into it. “And please, don’t tell Yova. I don’t want her to worry,” she said. “No worries, it’s like a doctor-patient confidentiality. Anything you tell me doesn’t pass this desk. So, uh, to give me some idea of what we’re working with… when you and Yova do it, how does it –” Bella mercifully cut him off.

Day asked Marigold if she had any enemies who would want to listen in on her. “Ex-friends, ex-siblings, ex-lovers?” Bella asked. “I don’t think so? I mean, I’m the librarian at the Autumn Court. It’s not like that’s the most enviable position. I’m not trying to gain rank or curry favor. I’m just trying to get by.” Bella looked her dead on and told her that there were people in the Courts who just didn’t like Darklings. And then Marigold started to cry. Which is why Day and Bella are officially the worst people.

Once they calmed her down, Day told her that this had to be the work of someone who had access to her apartment, so she needed to try and think about anyone who might have come over to the apartment or come in for any reason. She wasn’t able to think of anyone other than Yova who came over. Day asked her if she could get a hotel for the evening so that he and Bella could go take a look at things, and if they found anything out, they’d let her know. She agreed and he told her to find a place to stay and just hang out there, and if she thought of anything, to give him or Bella a call. Bella proudly pulled out one of Day’s new business cards and handed it over.

After she left, Day asked Bella if she was ready to earn a bonus. “I think we should get a pseudo-Marigold to go to the apartment and do her everyday normal things, and see what happens,” he said. “What are you trying to say, Day?” “What I’m trying to say, Miss Pocket Pilfer, is we’re going to take one Darkling and put in another.” “So are you trying to say all Darklings look the same?”

Back on the saner side of my motley’s spectrum, I had the phone and was waiting for someone at Yova’s parents’ place to pick up. The phone kept ringing and ringing and ringing, and just as I was about to hang up, I heard an older woman’s voice come on and say, “Hello?” I straightened up and said, “Ah, yes, Mrs. Pavlovich? My name is Derek, I’m an orderly at Binghamton Psychiatric Center in Binghamton, New York. I’m calling about your daughter.” There was a long pause, then she said, “Oh… yes? But she was discharged, wasn’t she? I’m not sure what I can do for you.”

I managed, somehow, to keep from screaming, and cleared my throat. “Uh, yes, ma’am. But we’ve just realized that she left some personal effects here and we’re not permitted to hold onto these. I was hoping you might help us get in touch with her so she or a representative could come and pick them up?” I asked. She hesitated. “Oh. Well, we live out of state, so we wouldn’t be able to help you out there. I assume you have her phone number and must have called? I’m afraid I can’t help you out any more than that.” “I see. Well, thank you for your time, Mrs. Pavlovich.” “You’re welcome. I wish I knew more but we don’t speak very much, so I don’t know what she’s up to,” she said. I bit back a few choice words, given what Yova had told me about her parents’ reaction to her coming out. Instead, I took as cold a tone as I could muster.

“Well, Mrs. Pavlovich,” I said, “perhaps you could try calling her sometime.” And then I hung up the phone.

I told Pam and Yova the bad news about the Fetch getting released. We quickly started brainstorming and Yova grabbed the notebook she got from Aurora’s hideout. After a few minutes, I spotted a couple of names I recognized: Deb and Greg, the changelings we met at the biergarten who were working with Day’s and Bella’s Fetches. We discussed whether Aurora might have dropped Yova’s Fetch off with them. Yova looked like she was internally kicking herself. “I thought she was where she needed to be. Out of sight, out of mind,” she sighed. “Well, we’re going to figure it out,” Pam told her.

Meanwhile, Abbot and Costello were putting their brilliant plan into motion. They got Bella dressed up like Marigold and Day staked out the apartment while she went up to the front door and got the spare key from the flowerpot. Bella headed in and started looking around, trying to spot anything that might have been out of place in Marigold’s apartment. She couldn’t help feeling a little bit on edge. Outside, Day didn’t see anything out of the ordinary to start with, but a few minutes after Bella entered the apartment, he spotted a U-Haul parked nearby slowly pull out and start to drive away. They were moving slow enough for him to take note. He jotted down the license plate and then climbed into his car to follow.

Back inside the apartment, Bella was distracted and on edge, searching through Marigold’s things. And it was probably the fact that she was so distracted that she didn’t notice until it was too late that another person was in there. The same person who brought a sack over her head as she was looking at the calendar with the adorable kittens on it. Wriggle and writhe and scratch and scream as she might, she couldn’t get away. As she struggled, she managed to pull a muscle in her back and became completely unable to move. Something hard came down against the back of her head and she was out.

As Day was following the U-Haul around the block, it pulled up to the street behind the complex. While he waited, he saw the driver walk briskly back around the front of the U-Haul. Someone else came up to it, popped something into the passenger side and threw it in.

Back at Chez Yova, Pam tried calling Day but just got his voicemail. Yova called the Summer Court to let them know what was going on. She got a hold of Brandon, the changeling who took Aurora’s body. She told him about the situation and he told her that Fetches were usually their changeling’s responsibility, but he said he’d take a description and they’d keep an eye out for her. Yova told him she had no idea who the Fetch would contact and didn’t know how physically capable she was, but she still recommended approaching with caution.

I realized it would be good for the Autumn Court to also be aware of what was going on, so I called Stella, and the conversation went about as well as you could expect. “It’s Stella, state your business.” “Hi, Stella, it’s your favorite bird brain.” “Hello, Derek, how can I help you?” “Well, Yova’s Fetch got busted out of the insane asylum she was in, so we’re calling around to alert people about that and tell them to watch out for her.” There was a momentary pause, then Stella said, “That’s surprisingly responsible of you.” I gave her a description of what Yova used to look like and she told me she would make the Court aware of it, then she hung up. I looked up at Yova and Pam and said, “She loves me.”

Around this time, Yova decided to call Marigold. She got her voicemail and left a message: “Hi, Marigold, it’s me. There’s a bit of a situation. If you can give me a call back, I’ll talk to you about it more, or I can text you the details, just please, please be safe.” She texted what was going on to Marigold. We decided to go to Day’s office and see what was going on. As you’re probably guessing, we just saw the sign on his door saying he was out on a case. That’s when we tried calling Bella.

Who was slowly coming to in the passenger seat of the U-Haul. She heard her phone buzzing and started to realize she was in a car and driving off somewhere. The bag was still over her head and her hands were tied behind her. She heard a feminine voice saying, “Look, I know this seems bad, but don’t worry, stop struggling. You’ll be out of this soon.” “You guys suck. Who does this?” she asked. Around this time, Day was driving through traffic and started losing them. He let out a very long and very rude series of words.

Yova was getting very antsy at not hearing anything from Marigold, so she drove us all over to Marigold’s. When we got there, she jumped out of the car about an eighth of a second after she slammed the shift into park. Pam and I got out and tried to make it up after her, but she was moving at mach now. She checked the flowerpot for the spare key, which wasn’t there. The door wasn’t locked and the lights were on the apartment. There was also a note on the door with an address written on it, which Yova snatched off.

She barged in, yelling, “Marigold?!” There was, obviously, no answer. I started checking the book, looking to see if Marigold’s address was there, but Yova was tearing through the apartment. And in the large closet near the living room, where Marigold had some storage, the door was open and it looked like some sheets that had been folded and stacked were pushed together in places, as though someone had been hiding there.

Yova was in a blind panic by now. She called Marigold, again got no answer, and then called Day. He picked up and before he could even get a greeting out, she half-shrieked, “Marigold’s been kidnapped!” “No, she hasn’t,” Day said. Yova paused, then said, “Day, what the fuck is going on? And you better tell me right now or I swear to God…” “Oh, she’s worried,” I murmured to Pam. “Shut the fuck up, Derek!” she snapped. Day explained what was going on and told her that we should try to meet him where they were going, but that she shouldn’t let on that we knew it wasn’t Marigold.

Across town, Bella got dragged out of the U-Haul and tied up inside the place she was brought in. The kidnapper said to someone else, “Okay, we got her. Can we get our money now?” This time, she recognized Deb’s voice. The voice that responded said, “Of course. You’re free to go if you want.” The two kidnappers talked quietly among themselves, but all Bella could make out was some murmuring. The other voice said, “So you’re just gonna stay here when people come looking for her? That’s your plan? You know, I don’t claim to be the brightest crayon in the box, but I think you’re missing steps B through Z here. The woman said, “I don’t have to explain anything to you. I have my reasons.” They seemed to shrug and left.

When Yova, Pam, and I arrived at the parking lot, Day was already there. The building where Bella had been taken to was an office at a self-storage unit place. It looked like it was abandoned, like it hadn’t been in use for a while. Yova demanded to know what the hell was going on and we managed to calm her down enough to try and figure out a plan. Day told her that the kidnappers didn’t know she was coming with a group. “They might not even be aware that Bella’s not Marigold, so it’s best if you ham it up a bit,” he said. I’m sure you’ll be shocked to find out that this was not going to come as any real stretch to Yova. She said she was going to kick in the front door and directed the rest of us to sneak in the back and try to ambush them. As Day, Pam, and I snuck around, we saw Deb and Greg going away. We quickly debated going after them, but then realized our first priority needed to be getting Bella out.

Pam stayed outside as a lookout while Day and I slipped in the back door. We could hear Pachelbel’s canon (which Yova had told me at one point was her least favorite song in all of time and space) playing off a CD. We slipped toward the central office and I could hear someone humming along to the sound. It was awful, and I could tell whoever it was was trying really hard to make the tune work, but she couldn’t get there.

Yova kicked in the door and standing there, leaning up against the wall, filing her nails and humming terribly out of tune, was her Fetch. Yova glared at the Fetch and said, “I gave you a chance. So why all this showmanship when you can’t even carry a tune?” “Are you really asking me why you’re extra?” the Fetch asked. “Oh, I know exactly why I’m extra. But why you, when you have no talent whatsoever?” Yova hissed.

The Fetch turned and looked at her, creepily talking about how all the talent stayed with Yova. “I have all your memories, every bit of knowledge that makes you you. I have all the same dreams and goals as you. But the one thing that makes them happen doesn’t exist for me. It’s really not fair. Not fair at all. You think you can just waltz back in? That angelic voice of yours, all that talent and skill, while I’m left behind to rot? No. It’s just not fair.” Yova narrowed her eyes and told the Fetch she was chasing something that was never hers. “Well, I wasn’t meant to be anyone else. And you can’t give up, of course not. You just strode right back in and grabbed it right back. If you can’t give it up, what makes you think I can?” the Fetch asked. “I’ve got eighteen years of skill and practice and I’m not a hollow imitation,” Yova snapped.

Around this time, I slipped in and was behind Yova’s Fetch, trying to make eye contact with her. I raised a leg, preparing to kick her forward so Yova could deal with her. She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head slightly, so I was left poised like a flamingo on one leg.

“I’ve just as much right to exist as you do and I don’t want to stop existing. My options for that while you exist are limited. So I figure that it’s only fair that if one of us has to spend this existence in a state of constant suffering, then we should be doing it together. It’s only fair.” Yova sighed, “What are your terms?” The Fetch made eye contact with Yova and hissed that she didn’t come there to deal. Yova suddenly saw that as the Fetch was approaching Bella, she was pulling out a very long, nasty-looking knife. Bella felt the knife come into contact with her neck.

Yova flared her brightness, which managed to blind both her Fetch and me. Day leapt forward and tackled the Fetch. Bella started wriggling out of her bonds. I axe-kicked the Fetch, narrowly missing Day’s face and she let out an unholy screech. Yova ran up to deck her and knocked her bitch ass out. Bella managed to free herself, sliding out of her bonds and we tried to assess what was going on. Yova was closing her eyes and breathing deeply, clearly trying her hardest not to go into a blind rage. When she had her breathing under control, she looked at Day and said, “We need to call the Summer Court.” He agreed and she asked him if he could restrain her Fetch while she called. “I don’t trust myself right now with her.”

Bella was a little loopy, so I put a hand on her shoulder to keep her from wandering into any walls.

Yova walked out past Pam, pulled out her phone, and did her best to keep tone level. Just as she was about to dial, a call came in from Marigold. It turns out Marigold had been enjoying the spa at the Albany Marriott (a fine establishment, to be sure) and didn’t have her phone on her. She quickly picked up on the fact that Yova was not okay. Yova asked if they could talk in person and said she was just so glad Marigold was fine. They agreed to meet up later and Yova called the Summer Court.

When Yova got a hold of Brandon, she told him that she didn’t trust herself with her Fetch and asked him what the policy is on Fetches who tried to harm changelings. He told her that usually it was to deal with them permanently, but that it was on her. “If you want us to show mercy, that’s up to you,” he said. “No. I gave her a chance. I tried to let her walk away. But I can never trust her again,” she said, deadly serious. Brandon agreed to send someone to pick the Fetch up.

While Day and Bella were bantering over her bonus, Yova walked back in and sat down in the chair heavily. Pam headed over and put a hand on her shoulder, which quickly turned into a mom hug. Yova didn’t react at first, but then just pulled Pam close. Eventually, the Summer Court showed up and took Yova’s Fetch away (though not before Bella got a good few kicks in). Day and Bella made their way off to bumble their way through another case and that left me, Yova, and Pam in the parking lot.

Pam asked Yova if she was going to head home. Yova sighed, pulled out her keys and handed them over to me. “No. I’m going to call an Uber to go see Marigold,” she said. I looked down at the keys in my hand and I could actually feel my eyes start sparkling. “I get… to drive,” I said to nobody. “And if I see one scratch on her – wait, do you even have a driver’s license right now?” Yova asked. “I do not!” I said, still captivated by the keys. Yova snatched the keys out of my hand and passed them to Pam. I was very sad the entire way home and collected Gershwin from Yova’s place because I was clearly going to be geckositting again.

As far as what happened when Yova got to Marigold’s hotel room, well, there are certain things that even Yova is reluctant to talk about. But what I got out of her was that they were both exhausted and completely relieved that the other was safe. And they decided to start going steady. And when she told me that, I was about two-thirds through a bottle of pinot grigio and started bawling because it was just so beautiful.

So that’s a good place to stop for now. Until next time, may all your brunch spots stay hidden.

[throughtheglassdarkly]

Tsaryova’s Symphony: Roadblocks, part 4

The tallest, most elegant pianist in all the land shares her music picks for each session. This week, a bittersweet denouement after the conflicts and angst of dealing with fetches and crazy-ass bitches.

[throughtheglassdarkly]

Derek’s recipe book: Roadblocks, part 4

Summer Court S’mores

Homemade graham crackers put store-bought to shame. Which is important when you’re crafting a tasty treat over the smoldering remains of the bitch who got you into this mess in the first place.

Ingredients:

For graham crackers:

2 ½ c. whole wheat flour (make sure it’s whole wheat, not stone-ground or white flour)

1 ½ tsp. baking soda

¼ tsp. ground cinnamon

¼ tsp. salt

¾ c. softened butter

¾ c. sugar

¼ c. molasses (unsulfured, not blackstrap)

1 T. vanilla extract

For rest of s’mores:

6 Hershey bars

Marshmallows

One deceased loyalist

Kindling

Begin by making the dough for your graham crackers. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt and set aside. In a standing mixer fit with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and sugar together. Reduce the speed to low and add the molasses and vanilla until combined. Increase the speed to medium and beat until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes.

Reduce the speed to low and add the flour mixture slowly until it is incorporated and a soft dough forms. Scrape the dough onto a work surface and knead it gently to form a ball. Divide the dough in half and knead each ball on a bare work surface until pliable and smooth.

Adjust the oven rack to the middle position and preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Generously flour your counter or a piece of parchment paper and place one ball of dough in the center. Pat it into a 5-by-6 inch rectangle, sprinkle with flour, flip, and dust again. Working from the center out and adding more flour as needed, roll the dough until roughly 15-by-11 inches and very thin (ideally, less than ¼ inch). Slide onto an aluminum baking sheet and brush away the excess flour. Repeat this process with the remaining dough.

This next step is optional but will give you crackers that look like the ones we all had growing up. Score each sheet of dough into twelve 2 ¼ -by-4 ¾ inch rectangles and dock with a bamboo skewer or the narrow end of a chopstick.

Bake until crackers are firm and darkened, about 20 minutes. Before they have a chance to cool, cut along the pre-scored lines with a knife or cut into free-form shapes using a pizza wheel. Cool to room temperature directly on the baking sheets.

This recipe makes 24 graham crackers, which can be stored in an airtight container for up to 3 weeks at room temperature or frozen for up to 3 months.

Once your graham crackers are completely cool, create a large bonfire with the kindling and loyalist. Ideally, wait until the loyalist is completely charred before roasting the marshmallows. Nobody wants their s’mores to taste like burnt hair. Assemble your s’mores with graham crackers, a square of chocolate, and a marshmallow.

 Serves 12 Summer courtiers who probably need to reconsider their life choices.

[throughtheglassdarkly]

Roadblocks, part 4

Welcome back. When last you were here, we all learned where Bella got it from. Onward.

The rest of the day after we lay the bait for Aurora was uneventful. I wasn’t feeling much like anything, so I went home after dinner and the rest of my motley went their separate ways thereafter. Pam, however, had an unexpected visitor soon after she got home. She had just gotten in the door and set her things down when she heard a knock at the door. Standing there, looking as blasé as usual but clad in a much more dressed-down jeans and coat, was Stella. Pam greeted her and invited her in. Stella stepped in and asked if they could talk for a bit. Pam put on the kettle for tea and they sat down.

“I’m not very good at being gentle about things, so I’ll get right to it. Your motley listens to you. Is there any way you can talk them out of this suicide mission that is trying to break back into Arcadia?” Stella asked. Pam leaned back in her chair, considering this for a minute. Eventually, she gave Stella an apologetic smile and said, “I don’t think there’s anything in this world or the next that could stop them from wanting to help our friends out.”

Stella let out a sigh and said, “That is unfortunate. You must understand that – well, I fully understand the motivations of you and your compatriots, as do the others who are aware of your plans. But I don’t think you quite grasp the potential consequences of these actions. It would be one thing if you were just endangering yourselves, but this could and likely will have long-reaching effects on the freehold itself. You can understand some people are displaying concerns.” It was about this point that the kettle started whistling, so Pam got up and prepared herself and Stella a nice cuppa.

When Pam gave her the cuppa and sat back down, Stella continued, “The long and short of it is something might follow you back. It’s one thing to escape from one’s Keeper. It’s impossible to really speak to all of the gentry when it comes to the loss of their playthings, but we are dispensable, I suppose. But when you steal from them, that’s another story. It’s a blow to their pride. And I – and I believe I speak for the Autumn Council and at least one of the other court leaders – do not want to run the risk that whatever entity you anger will chase you and end up here.” Pam nodded and said, “That’s a reasonable concern. Would it help if I told you as much as I know about who we’re dealing with Because it's an interesting situation.” Stella agreed to listen and Pam told her the long sordid story about Amberleigh, our time in Arcadia, and all the major players.

Once she’d finished, Stella was leaning forward, looking about as interested and intent as Pam had ever seen her. She took a sip of tea and said, “That is unlike any story I’ve heard out of Arcadia. All the stories I’ve heard are unique, but this metamorphosis you’ve described for this Amberleigh woman, I’ve never heard of anything like it.” Pam told her that it did seem like an interesting twist on it, which was why she was more optimistic than Stella about the situation we were going into. “She might know anything the True Fae do. There’s a chance. But maybe we can find a way around things, especially with all that research Derek’s been doing into the contract.”

Stella let out a long breath and said, “I cannot say I’m any less unnerved, but I see potential. If you wish, I can – not advocate for but perhaps not interfere with your actions. Pam beamed at that, telling Stella that was the best news we could have gotten. Stella also asked Pam that if we could not only escape but also slay Amberleigh, she would be quite interested in the chance to study her. “I don’t expect you to bring back a corpse, although that would be lovely. A Polaroid camera might function in Arcadia. A digital one, that’s right out, but a Polaroid is old enough that Arcadian magic might not affect it. Do you think you could take some photos, if I make you a list?” “I sure can,” Pam said.

Stella was evidently pleased by this, taking a long sip of the still-scorching hot tea. After she did, she asked if she could ask one more question. Pam was all ears. Stella took a second to think about how best to ask, then said, “Your motley seems very fond of you and I’ve heard others speak well of you despite your lack of court affiliation. How do you manage it? Is there a process, could you write it down?” Pam considered this and said that she tried to give everybody the benefit of the doubt and treat them with warmth and respect and make sure they knew that if they had any problems, they could let her know: “It’s just some good old-fashioned Midwest kindness.” “I see,” Stella said. Pam reached over to the side table and held out a plate, asking, “Would you like a bar?” “…Yes?” Stella said, taking one.

After Stella finished her bar, which she admitted was delicious, she said, “Like I said, I am not the gentlest of individuals, but would you mind perhaps helping me become slightly more so?” “Oh, I’d sure love to! I guess it would start with just spending time with each other first, getting to know each other and seeing where we can work from there,” Pam said. At Stella’s blank look, she thought for a second and said, “I’ll write up a syllabus.” “Oh, good. I can work with syllabi,” Stella said. She finished her tea, thanked Pam for her time and the refreshments, and made to leave. As she did, Pam held out her arms for a hug. Stella looked at her and said, “Perhaps we can work up to that.” She agreed to a handshake and made her exit.

The next day started out uneventfully as well. None of us heard or saw anything until 4:30, when we got an urgent text from Brenda, of all people. It had an address and the order to “Get your butts over here ASAP.” I was just about to leave my apartment when I got a knock on the door from Yova. She gestured for me to go ahead. “Why?” I asked. “Because I’m standing in front of your – I’m being suave, let’s go,” she said. “Oh, my knight in shining armor,” I said. “Damn skippy, now let’s go,” she said. We collected Bella and Pam and made our way over to the address, which was in a nice residential area. It was the part of the city where people can actually afford to have nice yards. We ended up pulling up in front of a pastel blue bungalow that was straight out of Pleasantville. None of us had any idea why Brenda had us meeting her there, but we made our way up to the door and Yova knocked.

Brenda opened the door, looking relieved we were there and she said, “Okay, long story short, Day called in a favor so now I’m babysitting.” “If those are the words he used, I’m going to take a pickaxe to him,” I said. “I’m not babysitting you. I mean, you all look like you could use some supervision at some point, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to do it. Come inside and try not to panic,” she said, stepping aside so we could step in. The inside of the house was just as cheery as the outside: needle art on the walls, knick-knacks on shelves. It looked like somebody’s grandma’s house. Pam complimented Brenda on the decorations. She beamed and said, “Thank you! A lot of my friends say they’re too old-timey, but they’re relaxing. I don’t want to come home and have lots of bright colors and sharp corners, I want somewhere I can relax. Anyway, this way.” She led us into the living room. And sitting there, looking lost and shaken and holding a cup of hot coffee, was my Fetch.

I had no idea what to expect inside her house, but that wasn’t it.

The Fetch didn’t look up at us and seemed very deep in thought. Brenda said, “Apparently he called Day about something. Day dropped him off here and then went to take care of something else.” I looked over at her. “I don’t know if I should be here. The last time he saw me, he freaked out and couldn’t get away from me fast enough.” “What would you have done in my place?” it snapped without looking up. It was gripping the coffee cup so hard its knuckles were white.

Yova asked my Fetch what happened. After a moment of incredibly awkward silence, the Fetch lowered its head, took in a deep breath, and said, “She’s got James.” Yova sucked in a breath and asked, “Aurora broke in and kidnapped your boyfriend?” “She didn’t break in, she walked off with him,” it said. “Did he go willingly?” she asked. “It was his day off at work. I came home and he was talking to her and he got in her car and now they’re gone.” “Okay, that’s not disconcerting at all. So either he’s gone off to be your hero or he was in cahoots with her the entire time,” Yova said. “No, it’s not like that,” it said. “What is it like then?” I asked. “She saw me as they were walking away and she smiled. I think she’s using him as bait. For me,” it said.

It looked up at that point and narrowed its eyes at me. “So I don’t know – see this, this is why I was upset when you came back, okay?” it said. “Oh, well, excuse me for not staying in slavery forever for your fucking convenience,” I snapped back. “It’s not that you came back here, it’s that you came back to the house. I don’t care if you’re back, all right? I just wanted you and your friends to stay away from me. But you didn’t and now he’s gone and I don’t know what to do,” it said.

Bella cocked her head at him and said, “Okay, dude, I’m gonna be real honest here and it’s gonna sound harsh, but she was going to come back and mess with you whether he came to your house or not. I’m so sorry to tell you.” “Yeah, Day’s Fetch is in some sort of lockup,” I said, then pointed to Bella, Yova, and Pam in turn, “her fetch is dead, hers is in the looney bin upstate and hers is in Minnesota somewhere. She’s working her way systematically through our Fetches. So we can help you out, but you’re gonna have to cut the shit.” It glared at me some more and said, “I fail to see how any of this shit isn’t justified, all right? I didn’t ask to be what I am. I didn’t ask to be thrown into this boring-ass useless life, but I’m here anyway.” That one stung, though I tried not to show it.

“Oh, and you’ve done so much with it,” Yova clapped back. “It’s not mine, why bother?” it told her. “Listen, I don’t care what you guys think of me. I honestly don’t. As long as we keep our distance, that’s fine. But this – I mean, he knows. There isn’t exactly much going on with the life I took over that’s worth standing up for but especially when you know you’re just a two-bit replacement. But there were things that I made for myself, things that aren’t his. James is one of them. He’s one of the few things in my existence that’s mine, that’s real for me. So no, I don’t care what you guys think about me as long as you get him back.”

I was trying to get through the conversation and get out, but this was when Bella decided to get smarmy and snarky. “Hmm, see, this is where you got everything messed up, mister,” she said. I could tell what she was gearing up for, and I said, “Bella.” “Because he actually decided to do something with his life,” Bella said. “Bella,” Yova said, spotting the look on my face. “And you know what you could be right now?” she continued, not paying attention to either of us.

What happened next was something that had been building since before I was taken from Arcadia, a reaction to the constant criticism from my family, what friends or significant (or insignificant) others I’d had, and myself. I turned to Bella and roared, “BELLA, SHUT UP.” She was shocked into silence. I was trembling and I repeated, quieter but no less intently, “Shut. Up.”

That was more or less the end of the conversation. Yova turned to the Fetch and said, “All right. We’ll get him back.” It nodded and said, “Thanks.” Yova advised the Fetch to stay at Brenda’s house while we looked into what happened to James and it said there wasn’t much else it could do. “Do whatever it is you got to do,” it said. Yova turned to leave and Bella and Pam followed. I stood there for a minute, looking at my Fetch. Neither of us said anything to each other. I didn’t realize until after I walked out of the house that I was clenching my fist so hard my nails left indents on my palm.

Inside the car, Yova pulled out the list of Aurora’s hideouts and started looking them up. The rest of us were dead silent. I was in the passenger seat just looking out the window, mind racing. I didn’t pay much attention at the time, but Yova did find the nearest hideout to my Fetch’s apartment and figured it was as good enough a place to start as any. She saw that the key to unlocking it was “a handful of sunshine.” She drove off to the nearest bodega where she bought a few oranges. “I hope this counts as a handful of sunshine,” she said. None of the rest of us responded.

On the way over to the hideout, we got a text from Day, saying, “Checking up on Bella’s family. I’ll be in touch.” If any of us had been in the mood, we might have thought of it as ominous foreshadowing.

The building we got to was… not well-maintained. It could have been nice at one point in its life, but it was not in a very nice part of town and there weren’t many people around. Yova double-checked to make sure we were in the right place and sure enough, it was the right address. She and Pam both tried to address the elephant in the room. I’m not sure what Bella was acting like, but I was doing my best to keep my shit together. Pam asked me if I was going to be okay to go with them. I didn’t say anything at first. I was trying to figure out how to tell them what I needed to. “Did I ever tell you guys why I was working that dead-end data entry job before I got taken?” I asked. The rest of them were quiet for a moment. I took in a deep breath.

“After I graduated, I started looking for work and it was the same story. I could get an interview and then it wouldn’t pan out for whatever reason. And I had to move back home. Back into my old bedroom. And I was there for probably six months. Longest time I clocked without anybody saying anything to me was twelve days. Because everything was – there was so much going on, you know? My brother was getting married, my sister was gearing up to apply for law school, there was so much, just so much going on, and nothing I said or nothing I did mattered. That job was the first offer I had in eight months and it was paying fourteen dollars an hour and the day I got it, I called, I didn’t even care what the apartment looked like, I didn’t care what it looked like, I just had to get out, I had to get away. From all that. And by that point it was like I didn’t even know how to talk to people anymore. I didn’t even know how to make any connection or any communication with anybody. I was just – that’s why he is the way he is. ‘Cause that’s the way I was. He hasn’t done anything because when you have no hope, you can’t do anything.”

While I was talking, I felt the tears I’d been trying to keep back come to the surface. I’d told Yova and Pam a little bit about my life and how raw things were with my family while we were in Arcadia, but I hadn’t gone into all of the ugly details. Yova pulled me into a hug. Pam and Bella leaned forward and joined in. After a moment, Bella said, “I’m sorry.”

I couldn’t keep the tears back and said, “I was hoping he was going to make something of himself, that maybe it was just me, maybe I was just in a really bad place, but I – he has no idea how badly I wanted to go back there and find out he had moved on and he was doing something with his life that wasn’t just that same old shit over and over again.” Pam said, “Well, you know, the best way for him to know something like that is if you tell him.” I sighed and said, “I don’t honestly think he wants to listen to a thing I say. He just wants me to not be here.” Yova said, “Well, maybe after all of this, it’ll be a driving force. While he hasn’t gone off and done something else, he’s made the best of the situation he was dropped into. And this James, as boring as he sounds, it’s still something. And who knows, maybe after all this, they’ll move halfway across country and start over. I don’t know. But what I do know is that you are both living separate lives and you have made something of yourself. Maybe it’s time that Shaun finally get that chance.” I took in a deep breath, wiped at my face, and said, “Let’s just do this.”

Yova clasped me on the shoulder and unlocked the car. She pulled her shitty rapier out of the trunk and we got ready to head up. Before we did, I had an idea. “Hey, guys, do you think it would be a good idea to hide my mien so she thinks I’m the Fetch?” I asked. “That’s probably a really good idea,” Pam said. I forced some Glamour up to my skin. I didn’t feel any different, but Bella told me it looked like my feathers receded into my face. I couldn’t see anything different, but the others told me I looked more or less like I did before we got taken, except that my hair was a little flatter and smoother and I looked like I had red-orange eyeshadow around my eyes.

We walked up to the front door and Yova pulled out one of the oranges, trying to push some Glamour into it. She smashed it against the doorknob, getting juice all over the door and herself in the process. I’ll be honest, it looked really fucking stupid, but if it’s stupid and it works, it’s not stupid. The door slowly swung open. We peered in and could see that the interior didn’t look like a dilapidated old duplex. It was very gaudily decorated. The floor was a nice hardwood, but the walls were a disgusting floral textured wallpaper with farmhouse-style paneling. We realized that once again, the only way out was through and we stepped inside. As we did so, we could feel a change in the air. The door creaked shut and we could tell immediately we weren’t in the real world anymore.

Whoever had decorated the place had one weird-ass aesthetic. It was a mixture of folksy stuff, craftsy stuff, stuff that might have been chic in the 1940s, and some stuff that was just plain plug ugly. We walked through an arched doorway and into a room that was straight out of Alice in Wonderland. There was black and white tile on the floor and ceiling, candles flickering on the table. The lighting wasn’t great – most of what we could see was from either the candles or Yova. It took a minute for us to realize that the frames on the walls had actual pictures in them and that they were flickering. We could see different rooms and one of us, as though it were a security camera. It was oil paint, but as we passed by, the painting changed. Pam asked Yova if she was making any notes about what she could do to redecorate the place. Yova’s eye was twitching and she said, “Let’s just get this bitch and get out of here.”

We decided to start looking around and trying to figure out how to get to where we needed to go. Bella was the one who noticed that the other paintings were changing as well, as though they were capturing what was there and moving. She moved over to one that was larger, about the size of a vanity mirror. It showed a sitting room with a fireplace. What drew her attention was the figure slumped over the back of the couch. Bella reached out to touch it and her hand melted into the portrait. She said, “Guys, I found something.” We all came over and she showed us what she’d discovered. “This is some Mario 64 shit,” I said. “Yes, but if it is Mario, we’ve got seven other castles to go through before we find the princess,” Yova said. “I hope James isn’t the princess. He won’t look good in Princess Peach’s dress,” Pam said.

Bella pushed forward into the painting and the rest of us followed. Going through the painting felt, for lack of a better description, like walking through lotion, though once we got to the other side, it didn’t feel like there was lotion on us. The sitting room was somehow both better and worse than the dining room we’d left. There was a fire, so it was at least lighter, but there was a hideous zebra print couch, a large vase on the side table also in zebra print, and a pair of gas lamps which smelled horrible. “Oh. That is… a thing,” Bella said.

Despite all the other visual assaults, I had my eye on the man slumped over the back of the couch. His face was in the cushions. I moved over and put my hand out, pulling him up to have a look at him. Much to my surprise, he was almost weightless, despite how big he looked. I turned him over and it wasn’t James. It was a handsome guy, probably in his mid-thirties, staring blankly. Bella, however, recognized him immediately and ran over, saying, “Tony!” My heart sank as I realized what was going on. “Uh, Bella? This guy weighs nothing.” She got over and saw that it was staring blankly, breathing shallowly, but not paying any attention to anything going on. She stared at it for a minute and I tried as gently as I could to tell her, “I think this is why Day is looking into your family right now.” She didn’t say a word, but stared daggers at nothing.

I suggested that we tear the Fetch apart so that even if we didn’t get Aurora, she wouldn’t be able to do anything with it. Yova agreed and pulled out her rapier, activating it with Glamour and causing a slight flame to burst out along its edges. Bella told me later that as Yova was stabbing at the Fetch, she was dumbstruck by what was going on. It looked just like her brother and she didn’t want to think about what the implications were. She was completely unsettled. Yova tore the Fetch apart and we tossed the rest of the pieces into the fire. There was a sound almost of a screech as the smoke escaped the confines of whatever it was made of.

After the screech let out, we heard a faint echoing in the room, as though it was being said from far away, “Tsk tsk tsk. I spent so long stitching him together. That was so rude! What pesky little houseguests you are.” Yova shouted up to the ceiling, “You know, it’s very rude not to welcome guests yourself. Maybe you should come out and see us.” “But this is so much more fun. At least you did bring my child back to me. Mother is so happy about that,” Aurora replied. “You’re insane,” Yova said. “Aren’t we all a little bit, darling?” Aurora practically purred. She invited us to come find her and her “new little friend” in the master bedroom. She told us that he wasn’t able to talk much at the moment. None of us wanted to think about the implications of that.

Before we left the sitting room, Bella spotted a taxidermied owl on the wall and pulled some of the nails off of it. For emergencies, I guess? I don’t know. I felt like I wanted to barf looking at it, so I turned away.

There wasn’t anything else to do but press on. We passed through a few rooms and came to realize that this “house,” such as it was, was damn big. We ended up in a long corridor with more oil paintings hanging on the walls. As we walked past, I realized they were reflecting my life before I left. One was of me at my desk at work. One was of me leaving the bar I used to go to every Friday – alone, as usual. There was a family portrait where I wasn’t there. All of them were in drab, dull colors. I can’t explain it, but it felt like the house was mocking me. I felt off, like I couldn’t focus or the things I was trying to focus on were eluding me. I felt like it was wrong – or more accurately, like I was wrong.

We heard Aurora laughing and talking to us again. “I know how hard it is, baby, and I appreciate you trying to make a life for yourself and trying to be happy. But now that you know what you are, you need to be with people who understand. You’re not going to be happy in this world. You could’ve been, I hoped you would be, but now that your other’s back, you just can’t be. I know you feel you can’t talk to him. Just leave that behind and come home.” And here’s where I can’t explain why I felt the way I did. I knew it was bullshit. I knew she was gaslighting me and trying to make me feel like I didn’t have a choice. But it was working. I was feeling alone, isolated, like I didn’t have anything for me. But that’s when Pam made the unkindest cut of all. She looked up at the ceiling and said, “You know, you’re really not good at being a mom.” There was blissful silence after that.

Bella wasn’t paying attention to anything except where she was going. She led us through a few more rooms and up a staircase into a room that wasn’t as gaudy as the rest of the house. The room we emerged in looked like a dollhouse bedroom and it fit Aurora in its brightness. She was there, sitting in a rocking chair and knitting something – or someone. James was sitting on the bed, his hands bound and his lips stitched shut. He looked terrified. When he saw me, his eyes lit up for a moment, then he looked disappointed.

Aurora was mostly focused on her knitting. It looked like she’d just started whatever it was she was working on. She looked at James and his reaction, then at me. She quirked her head and said, “You’re taller than when I left you. But it has been a while, perhaps I’ve just forgotten. But it’s good you’re here.” She put her knitting down and stood up, smiling at me. She said, “You see, it’s so easy to come home.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and, almost unwillingly, took a few steps closer. When I got a few feet from her, I took in a breath and said quietly, “Well, you know what they say. You never can go home again.” And with that, before she had a chance to realize what was going on, I hauled back and kicked her in the throat with all of my supernatural might, crushing her larynx in one blow.

She flew back into the rocking chair, which itself fell back and hit the wardrobe. James was looking even more terrified when he saw that. Pam ran over to start unbinding him. Aurora looked stunned and was coughing, trying to get her breath. I didn’t give her a chance to get up, stalking over and delivering an axe kick full in her face. Yova stormed up with her rapier and delivered the coup de grace straight through her heart. She wasn’t even able to make a noise. The light flickered right out of her eyes. We’d had to do this before, but just like before, it still didn’t feel right. We knew that at some point in her life, she was in the position we were – stolen, terrified, and about to go through an impossible transformation. Yova seemed to be taking it a bit harder than me, so I put a hand on her shoulder and she pulled the rapier out of Aurora and wiped it off.

James was hyperventilating by this point. Pam had gotten his wrists untied and was rubbing his back. He was trying to open his mouth, but it was visibly hurting him. I told him to not talk and that we’d get the stitches out. That’s when Yova decided to cut to the chase and cold-clock him. He went down like a sack of potatoes.

We stared at Aurora’s body on the floor for a minute. “Okay. I hate to say it, but I don’t think we should leave her here. If there’s somebody who might come across this place and can do something with her, she might still be dangerous,” I said. Yova suggested using the blanket on the bed to drag her out of the house. “No, use a sheet. If someone sees a blanket with a body in it, that’s suspicious, but if we get a gurney and there’s a body in a sheet on it, people will think that’s what something would look like getting removed,” Pam said. I’m not sure where she got that knowledge from, but it just reinforces the fact that Pam is cooler than the rest of us put together.

Yova and I started working on putting a gurney together with the materials in the room while Pam started cutting the stitches out of James’s mouth. She had a small sewing kit with her that had a tiny pair of scissors in them and made quick work of cutting the stitches out. As she finished, she noticed Bella was standing by herself in the middle of the room looking stressed and angry. She moved over and asked Bella if everything was okay. “No. It’s not all right,” Bella said. Pam told her to come sit by her and tell her about it, but Bella didn’t move. She was able to tell Bella was trying to physically hold herself back. “Bella?” she asked. “I’m gonna stay over here. I’ll wait till you’re done,” she said. “All right, if you’re sure,” Pam said. “Mm-hmm,” Bella said, not even looking at Pam.

Pam looked at Yova with one of those really intent motherly looks. Yova picked up on it and Pam motioned with her head to go check on Bella. When Yova tried to move over to Bella, Bella moved back. Yova put her hands up, realizing Bella was not in a good mental place and said, “All right. Bella, where do you think you are right now?” Bella practically spat, “I know you took what was mine. What I should have done.” Yova realized this was more than one of Bella’s usual tantrums and stood up a bit straighter, saying, “I think that we all equally have a reason to want her dead.” “Didn’t you just set my brother’s almost-Fetch on fire?” Bella asked. “I did. But if we had left that thing alive, who knows what would have happened?” Yova asked. “I don’t care about it being alive,” Bella said. “What do you care about?” Yova asked.” I want to get out of here as fast as possible before I do something that I know I’m gonna regret later on,” Bella said, still glaring at Yova all the while.

While Bella was eyeing Yova’s throat and Yova was trying to keep her from going for it, I managed to get the gurney finished and Yova gave me the keys to the car. The route back through the house wasn’t too hard to follow and Pam, Bella, and I managed to get Aurora’s body and James back to the car. Yova wanted to do some snooping and see if she could find any information on True Fae contacts. She didn’t find any, but she was able to stumble across an amulet, a little notebook, and an ornate fountain pen in the bedside table. The amulet looked very similar to the one that Cassi used to get us to Amberleigh’s camp after she and Adrian rescued us from Aurora. Yova pocketed all three and made her way back out to the car.

We put Aurora’s body in the trunk and lay James down on the back seat. He started to stir and Yova was about to hit him again, but Pam stopped her. We debated what to do with Aurora’s body and Yova decided to call the Summer Court and see if they could help. She dialed the line and managed to get hold of Cahir the Unyielding himself. Based on the look on Yova’s face, I could tell he was giving her some cheesy pickup line along the lines of “Hey, baby, wanna find out why they call me unyielding?” He initially tried to get her to drop the body off at the flower shop the Spring Court ran, but Yova was having none of it. “Ugh, you’re no fun,” he told her. He finally told her to go to a drop-off location where one of the low-ranking Summer Courtiers met us. He opened up an SUV and said, “Toss ‘er in.”

After we did just that, Yova asked him, “What are they going to do with her?” “I dunno. Probably burn ‘er,” he said. “Pity. I’d like to push her in myself,” Yova said. “We could make a bonfire out of it. Good Court bonding activity. Don’t imagine the s’mores would taste too good, though,” he said. All of us had matching looks of revulsion on our faces and we quickly made our leave.

James was awake but not exactly coherent by the time we climbed back in the car. “I’m on drugs. I must be on fucking drugs,” he moaned. “You are, darling, but don’t worry, they’ll work out of your system,” Yova told him. He thought for a second. “Are the drugs supposed to talk back? Fuck, I’ve never been on drugs before. Uggggh.” Yova managed to bullshit him into believing that Aurora had mickeyed him with a buffed-up date rape drug. “She’s gone though, right?” he asked. “Yes, she’s in the proper custody,” Yova told him. “Oh, thank God. He’s gonna be so happy. Maybe things will be like they were before,” James said, leaning back. “Yes, sleep, darling. Everything’s going to be fine,” Yova said. He said that sounded great and slumped against the seat.

Before long, we were back at Brenda’s house. As we pulled up, I asked, “Hey, guys, do you mind if I go in for a couple minutes by myself first?” Pam was practically beaming and she more or less pushed me out of the car to get me to go up the walk. I knocked on the door and Brenda answered. “Hey. Everything okay?” she asked. “Yeah, it’s done. We got him back. He still where he was?” I asked. “Yeah, he’s been watching SNL reruns,” she said. “Oh. Hopefully the good years,” I said. “Come on. Do you take me for someone who would watch the bad years?” she asked. “There were just so many,” I said, shaking my head. She let me in and I made my way into the living room where, sure enough, my Fetch was sitting, watching a Roseanne Rosannadanna sketch and giving a tepid smile.

I knocked on the doorframe and my Fetch looked up. “Oh. You’re back,” it said. I nodded and said, “Yeah. Look, I know we haven’t gotten off on the right foot. Can I talk to you for a quick minute?” It rolled its shoulder and said, “Sure, why not. Come on in.” It made a big show of patting the couch, but I went over to sit on a chair nearby instead. I took a second to gather my thoughts before I looked up and started talking.

“I know what you’re feeling like with him gone and not knowing what to do, not knowing how to feel. And I know what you feel like being in that apartment going to that job. I know. And I know it sucks. And I can understand why you’ve not been excited to see me. So I’m just going to tell you that if it’s what you want, I will leave you alone completely from here on out. I mean, I’m still living here in the city so if I happen to bump into you at Aldi or something, that’s a possibility, but I’m not going to be actively seeking you out. And I just want you to know that you’re stronger than you think you are and you can do a lot more than you think you can. And I know you’re not me any more than I’m you other than the fact that at some point you were made from something of me and you look just like how I used to do. But aside from that, our paths aren’t going to be the same. But try to find something that sparks something in you. It makes a big difference when you actually have that something to look forward to, to break up everything else. And maybe – maybe that’ll be a way for you to be happier.”

While I spoke, I could see my Fetch softening a little around the edges of its eyes and mouth. It was quiet for a minute after I spoke, then said, “You know, it wasn’t actually bad until you came back. I mean, I always thought something was off but then one day I just woke up and I knew. I looked at myself in the mirror and it wasn’t my face. Well, it was, but it was…” “Stitched?” I asked. It nodded. “Yeah. And I don’t – it’s – I thought when you came back that you were gonna want me gone, that you were going to do something to hurt me or – I mean, you didn’t have much of a life to come back to, but it was still yours. And I want to make it mine. And I’m trying, but…” it trailed off.

“You’ve already started,” I told it. It shook its head and said, “I mean, people talk about imposter syndrome, but I’m actually a fucking imposter. I can’t just go up to him and say that.” I tried to give an encouraging smile and said, “He’s not a bad guy.” The Fetch actually smiled a bit at that and said, “No, he’s a great guy. And I probably haven’t been as good to him as I could.”

I thought for a second, then said, “I think he would really like it if you were to – I don’t know, have you guys ever traveled anywhere or gone anywhere and done some stuff you really liked?” It shook its head. “Not yet. His building, there was a really bad fire and they’re still renovating, so we’re kind of saving money to take care of that. It’s why we’re still – yeah. So maybe, but not right now.” I said, “Well, maybe make some plans. You’d be surprised when you’ve got something that you’re working toward. It can make a world of difference.” It considered this and said, “I’ll take your word for it. But this is getting super awkward, so…”

I nodded and was about to get up, but there was one last thing I needed to say. “Look, we got him back, we took care of the bitch who took him. She’s not going to be bothering you anymore. Or anybody else. And… you know, count your blessings, because of all our Fetches, you probably ended up better than anybody else’s. I know it doesn’t always feel like it, but it’s true. So tomorrow when you get up, either make some breakfast or go out and get breakfast, and why don’t you guys try to make some plans?” The Fetch nodded and said, “All right. And as much as I hate to admit it, I do owe you one. So I’m not going to go out of my way to do something impossible, but if I can make it square, let’s make it square.”

I held out my hand to shake. After a moment, it – he held out his hand as well and we shook them. It felt like a resolution I hadn’t known I needed. I’d had no idea what to expect when I went looking for him the first time, but I think some part of me knew I needed to know exactly what was going on with him. He had my life now, and unlike me, he’d found a way to make it work for him, to make himself happy in an existence I’d found completely meaningless and miserable. With that handshake, it felt like I was leaving a part of myself behind that I’d been holding onto even though it made me unhappy. When I drew my hand back, I said, “If you need to get a hold of me for any reason, you’ve got Day’s number. And I hope you do good for yourself.” He smiled and said, “Thanks,” and we got up to leave.

The Fetch and James got an Uber to take them to urgent care to get James checked out before they went back to their place. After they left, Brenda came out with a cup of coffee on her own, a knit hat and scarf on. It had gotten really cold over the prior couple of days. Autumn was starting to wane and winter was clearly on the way. “You guys want to stick around or head back?” Brenda asked us. “I don’t have company that often, but it looks like you’ve had a long day.” Bella just started walking off on her own, pulling out her phone to call an Uber. Pam decided to stay and have some coffee, but Yova and I both begged off. After Pam and Brenda went back inside, Yova sent a quick text message to Marigold, asking if she was free. She was, as it turned out, and had been binging Outlander. She wasn’t sure how historically accurate it was, but she appreciated the aesthetic. Yova practically cooed and made plans with her to be there in a half hour after she dropped me off. She burned rubber getting me back to our building and bringing Gershwin downstairs for a sleepover before she was out the door and on her way to Marigold’s.

I was pretty wrecked from the day and everything we’d been through, so after I got Gershwin settled in and took a shower, I spent some time writing messages for Adrian for Paisley to look at and then went right to bed. So that’s where I’ll leave things for now. Until next time, be safe, and may your doppelganger never give you insight into why your friends sometimes want to strangle you.

[throughtheglassdarkly]

Tsaryova’s Symphony: Roadblocks, part 3

The tallest, most elegant pianist in all the land shares her music picks for each session. This week, a melancholy number to play in the background of the motley’s encounter with Derek’s Fetch.

[throughtheglassdarkly]

Derek’s recipe book: Roadblocks, part 3

Pink champagne cupcakes

Let’s face it, you weren’t going to stay on your diet anyway.

Cupcake ingredients:

1 ¾ c. all-purpose flour

1 tsp. baking powder

½ tsp. baking soda

¼ tsp. salt

¾ c. unsalted butter, softened

1 c. sugar

2 eggs

¾ c. Greek yogurt

1 tsp. vanilla

¼ tsp. almond extract

½ c. champagne (I used André Strawberry Moscato)

 Buttercream ingredients:

1 c. salted butter, softened

Pinch salt

5 c. powdered sugar

4 T. champagne

1 tsp. vanilla

¼ tsp. almond extract

Pink food coloring

Edible pearls

 Preheat your oven to 350 Fahrenheit and line a 12-count muffin pan with cupcake liners.

In a mixing bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt until combined. Set aside.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, beat the butter and sugar together on medium speed until light and creamy. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, until combined, scraping down the sides and bottom of the bowl as needed. Beat in the Greek yogurt, vanilla, and almond extract on medium speed.

Pour the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients and mix until combined. Add the champagne and mix until just combined, scraping down the sides and bottom of the bowl as needed.

Fill the cupcake liners 2/3 of the way full. Bake about 20 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean or with just a few crumbs attached. Allow to cool in the pan for five minutes before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely.

While the cupcakes are baking and cooling, mix together your buttercream. In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, beat the butter and salt together on high speed until smooth and creamy, about 2-3 minutes. Add the powdered sugar one cup at a time, beating on low at first and then increasing to high speed.

Once creamy and combined, beat in four tablespoons of the champagne, the vanilla extract, and the almond extract. Taste and add more champagne or powdered sugar, if needed. Tint the buttercream to the desired pinkness.

Frost or pipe the buttercream onto the cupcakes. Garnish with edible pearls and sell at $8 a pop.

Serves 11 gullible businesswomen who think they’re going to get trashed at lunch off the equivalent of a teaspoon of pink champagne and one imaginary husband. 

[throughtheglassdarkly]

Roadblocks, part 3

Welcome back. When last you were here, Day ate flesh-burgers and Yova acquired an heir. Onward.

So while Day, Yova, and I were getting our shop-till-you-drop fantasy on, Bella had an important dinner date with her family. Around 4:45, Antonio picked her up in an Uber to take her to dinner. He told her that he’d try to keep the awkward questions at bay, “But you know mom.” Bella was acting a bit fidgety and he asked her if she was okay. “I’m fine, just nervous,” she said. She tried snuggling against him and he told her she wasn’t six anymore. She looked up at him with her big eyes and did her whiny little girl routine and he put an arm around her.

When they got to the restaurant, her parents and several of her other brothers were waiting for her. Her mother made the sign of the cross, got up, gave her the once-over and told her how she almost died from fear. (When she was telling us this, Yova and I shared a, “So that’s where she gets it from” look) Bella managed to keep most of the goth style at bay, but she still had her light blue hair. Her mom was clearly judging it but didn’t say anything. The whole family seemed to be happy she was just okay. They started talking about their lives, the book club mom ran, dad’s co-workers, teasing one of the brothers about his new girlfriend.

Eventually, the conversation turned to Bella and they all started asking her about her job, work at the university, and her social life. She was trying to keep it together but was internally freaking out, feeling like this wasn’t a place she belonged anymore. She managed to push through it and steeled herself, giving Antonio a look to wordlessly ask him if he told the rest of the family what was going on. She saw her parents also share a look and her mother opened her mouth to say something, which is when Bella felt a weird pulse of Glamour through the room. She knew someone in the restaurant was doing magic.

As she looked around, she saw someone sitting in the dining room proper, apart from the small private room her family had: a woman with a red headscarf and large sunglasses covering part of her face. The woman was looking right at her family and drawing something on the table. When Bella turned back to look at her family, her mother’s mouth was open and her hand in the air but she wasn’t moving or blinking. Looking around, she could tell everybody else in the restaurant was frozen as well.

There wasn’t much else to do but get up and head over to the lady in the headscarf. When she reached the woman’s table, the woman handed Bella an envelope and started to get up to walk away. Bella took the envelope but tried to stop her from getting up. “What is this?” she asked. “A warning,” the woman said. Bella tried to get her to tell her what was going on, but she ignored Bella and headed for the door. Bella opened the envelope and read the short note inside: “You hurt my babies. Don’t make me return the favor.”

As the woman left, she snapped her fingers and time resumed. Bella had to duck under a waiter’s outstretched arm and tray and heard a shriek: “Isabella! Where’d she go?” She hurried back to the private room while texting us in the group chat we shared. She gave the very helpful message: “Got a warning from What’s Her Face.” Day responded: “My future secretary, everybody.” Bella snapped a picture of the note and sent it to us before she went back into the private dining room.

Obviously her family was insanely confused as to what just happened. She played innocent and said that she just went to the bathroom. They were looking around at each other and blinking, but decided to buy her explanation because what other choice was there? Her mom once again started asking the question she was about to ask before time blipped: “Bella, what happened with Carlos? He was such a sweet booooooooooy?” Bella gave a knowing look to her dad, who seemed to pick up on what she was telling him. Her dad tried to get her mom to back up, but her mom was whining that she was so excited about planning the weddiiiiiiiiiiiiiing. Bella got up and hugged her mom, telling her Carlos wasn’t the one and she didn’t want them spending a ton of money on the wedding. The rest of the night followed nicely and she took an Uber back to her apartment. Before she went, her family told her that they were going to be in town a few more days and wanted to see her again.

As it happened, around this time several of us were running a little low on Glamour. I haven’t talked about Glamour that much, but suffice it to say it’s pretty damn important to Changelings. If we run out, we feel sluggish, weak, can’t really focus on anything. The good news is that it’s also pretty easy to harvest, mostly from humans. Any sort of intense emotion will let you draw Glamour into yourself. The day after our jaunt to the Goblin Market, while I was using the Token I got to enter Adrian’s dream, Yova was playing at a piano bar, trying to harvest some joy from the patrons. She managed to really scorch the ivories, leaving the crowd in awe. When she finished her first set, she got a standing O. The emotion washed over her and she felt all the power and magic filling her up.

Day used the tried-and-true way of agitating people to get some Glamour. He went to one of the sleaziest dive bars he could find, looking around for the toughest guy in the room. He saw an angry-looking dude who was clearly having a lousy day to the point where even the bartender was avoiding him. Day plopped down on the stool next to the dude, waving the bartender down. He asked Day what he could get him and Day said, “Scotch on the rocks, and how about a bar of soap for my buddy here?” The bartender, recognizing discretion as the better part of valor, backed off, asking if the well was okay.

Day reached up and put a hand on the tough guy’s shoulder. He grabbed Day’s hand off and put it back on the bar, telling Day, “Think you’re funny, huh? Ha. Ha. Ha.” Day told him that he was just messing with him. “I don’t care much for your kind of fun,” the guy snapped. “What, the kind with regular working showers?” Day asked. Before Day knew what was happening, the guy clocked him in the jaw. Day felt the anger flowing from the guy’s fist into his skin. He pushed himself over the stool, rubbing his cheek and said, “Ah, Jesus, buddy, what the hell was that?” “Oh, just a little bit of fun,” the guy snarked. “Jesus. If I wanted a kiss, I’d call your mom.” They were about to brawl when Day invited the guy to take it outside. They ended up kicking the absolute crap out of each other, with Day landing a few solid punches before the guy managed to land a really solid hit. He finally stumbled off, telling Day he was crazy.

As for me, I tend to get most of my Glamour from work. I can feel desire and want all the time when people come in and look at everything we’ve got in store. The day after Yova and Day got their Glamour fix, I had a few marks come strolling in at the lunch hour, some Business Barb types who I saw in the store all the time. They were talking as usual about how they were going to have their diet cheat day (which usually happened about four times a week) and I got them drooling about the pink champagne cupcakes. I did my best upselling, telling them how we couldn’t sell them to anyone under 21 because there was some alcohol in the frosting. They each got one (one of the Barbs buying two, saying the other was for her husband. And no, she wasn’t wearing a ring) and I managed to pull some of that Glamour into me when I took their payment.

I was feeling pretty good about myself at this point and headed over to the local park to eat my lunch. It was a beautiful crisp day, about the last point in autumn before it started getting unbearably cold, and I wanted to enjoy the outdoors as much as I could. While I was eating, however, I spotted a guy looking at me from a few benches over in confusion. It took me a second to remember who it was, but then it hit me: James, the co-worker who complimented my lemon cake the day I got swept off to Arcadia. He looked at me and down at his phone and back a few times, then got a very indignant face and stomped up to me. He didn’t say anything but stared at me a long while.

“Can I help you?” I asked. He was very tense and looked about to snap, then stomped off. I followed him and put a hand on his shoulder, asking him what the deal was. He said, “You don’t know me, but if you ever come by our apartment again, I’m going to call the cops.” I couldn’t help but have a grin spread across my face. I patted him on the shoulder (drawing a little more Glamour out of him in the process) and told him, “I think you have a case of mistaken identity.” I turned around to walk off and he yelled after me that he meant it. I went back to the bench and started eating my lunch again. “That’s so cute, they’re both so boring, they’re perfect for each other,” I said to myself as I tucked in.

Later that evening, everybody convened at my apartment. They all piled in and I told Day, who was still bruised from his fight the day before, that he looked like shit. “Community service. I released some birds from the pet store into the wild. Maybe you know a few of ‘em,” he said. “I am going to kick you into the rock quarry,” I said. Once we all settled in, Yova told us that we needed to discuss what was going on and the threat Aurora made to Bella. “I think it’s past time for us to deal with our old friend,” I said.

We had the list of places she would use as hiding places in the Hedge, so that was one option. What seemed like a better idea, however, was the possibility of going after one of our Fetches. Pam’s was back in Minnesota, Bella’s was dead, and Day’s was in the Knights’ custody, so that meant the only real options were either mine or Yova’s. I told them about the problems I ran into with my Fetch and James and Yova reminded us that her Fetch was upstate in the looney bin. I let out a breath and said, “If we are going after my Fetch, I probably shouldn’t be involved, at least on the front lines. I don’t want them freaking out and calling the cops as soon as they see me.”

Around this time, Bella mentioned the woman who gave her the message and described what she looked like, and I realized she was the one I saw outside of my Fetch’s apartment. That clinched it as far as my Fetch being the best point of trying to get to Aurora. Yova suggested that she and Day go talk to the Fetch about some missing person, “invite ourselves in” and appear threatening. Day suggested someone who wasn’t missing but who might have gone off the deep end might be a better topic. “Is there anyone at work who everybody avoided?” he asked. “Ohhh. Lorraine,” I said. “We always said she was going to pull out a pocket bazooka and blow everybody else away.” “Did she work in accounts receivable?” Yova asked. “Worse. HR. She was the only non-Linda in HR. I don’t think she ever got over it,” I said.

“We need to come up with some name for this guy other than your Fetch. Do you have a middle name?” Yova asked. “Yeah, Shawn,” I said. “Shawn?” Day asked with no small amount of disdain. “Shawn. I wasn’t expecting that,” Bella said. “Look, my brother’s Joseph Patrick O’Neill, my sister’s Mary Katherine O’Neill and I’m Derek Shawn O’Neill. You don’t get much more Irish than that,” I said. They came up with a rough battle plan and I asked them to kick my Fetch in the shins a couple of times because it was an asshole when I went to speak to it. “Well, he’s made from you. Shouldn’t he take after you?” Day asked. I gave him a look that could have turned the Gulf of Mexico into a skating rink and Yova went upstairs to get some vodka.

Oh, and when she came back down, she brought Gershwin to introduce him to Paisley. And Paisley, you’ll be happy to hear, was over the moon about Gershwin. She put her arm around him to protect him. She’s a good girl.

The next day we all left to go over to my old apartment around 4:30. I was sitting in the back of the car with everybody else getting ready to go up and commence the operation. I told them that I’d just stay in the car. I was not happy or comfortable about any of it, for a variety of reasons. “You know, Derek, we don’t have to do this,” Yova told me. “We’re already here, we might as well go ahead,” I said. Yova asked if I wanted to leave the car running so I could listen to some music. “If I mess with the music stations, you will literally kill me,” I said. “I would never,” she said. I locked that promise.

Around 5:00, a car pulled up into the parking lot and James and my Fetch got out, heading for the door. They stepped inside and the others waited a few minutes before going up and knocking. My Fetch answered the door cautiously, asking, “Can I help you?” Day pulled out his badge and introduce himself and the others, saying they’d like to talk to him about a former co-worker. My Fetch looked at Yova and Bella and asked, “Where’s their identification?” Yova was about to activate Hostile Takeover but then Bella showed him the sketch she made of Lorraine. The Fetch warily let them in. James asked who was at the door and the Fetch told him it was the police. “Why don’t you go water the garden? I don’t think they’ll be here long,” it said.

James went off to the back and Day apologized for coming at a bad time. “I don’t think there’s such a thing as a good time,” the Fetch said. “Well, I’m divorced three times, so I know that much,” Day quipped. “I meant with James,” my Fetch said flatly. It rolled its shoulders and said, “You know, I can see you for what you are. So what do you want?” Yova explained the plan and how we were trying to flush out Aurora. “You might have noticed that there’s been someone around lately, a woman in a headscarf and large sunglasses. We need to find her and stop her, she’s very dangerous. And we think that if she sees us here talking to you, it’s likely that she’s going to try to come by.”

The Fetch looked at each of them in turn and said, “I need you to know that I don’t want trouble, okay?” “We’re trying to eliminate trouble,” Day said. “I mean, if you just need to stand here for ten minutes, that’s fine, but don’t expect me to help you any more than that,” it said. “The fact that you let us in is enough,” Yova said. “Good. Because I don’t need any more stress,” it said, looking back at the garden, then at its watch. “You’ve got five minutes. If you want to sit down, fine. I’m going to start dinner.” It headed off to the kitchen and the others decided to look around.

From what they told me later, it sounded like my apartment was more or less exactly how I left it. Big couch that looked mostly new. Good-sized TV. Nice appliances in the kitchen. Photos arranged just so. They all picked up on the fact that it was mostly a veneer of comfort: everything looked nice but not comfortable, like they were trying to convince themselves they were happy.

While they were waiting, they heard some snippets of what sounded like an unhappy conversation between James and my Fetch. James said, “You need to tell me these things so we can deal with them together. I understand if you’re scared, but I can’t do anything if you’re not going to talk to me.” The Fetch didn’t respond to that, but walked back into the living room, saying, “Five minutes are up. Get the hell out.” As he was leaving, Day told the Fetch that they appreciated it helping them out and told it he knew what it was like to be by himself without any help. He gave the Fetch a business card and told it to call if it needed help with something the mundane authorities couldn’t help with. It looked surprised and paused as it took the card. “Thanks. Actually, yeah, thanks. If I have anything else you need to know, we’ll be in touch,” it said. Day patted it on the shoulder, told it to take care of itself, and motioned for everybody to walk out.

I didn’t much notice as they were walking back to the car. I’d been just staring at the center console between the driver and passenger seats the entire time they were gone. My mind wasn’t racing as much as it was drifting. There were a lot of competing thoughts, things I both didn’t want to think about and knew I had to. I’d intended to leave my Fetch well enough alone once I verified it wasn’t going to be a threat to me, but somehow fate was intervening, dragging me back to a place I thought I’d left behind me and forcing me to look back at what I used to be. And I didn’t like what I was seeing. Looking at my Fetch was reminding me of how pitiful and meaningless my old life was. I’d had so little happiness in my old life and being near my Fetch was bringing that back full bore. Even more than that, I was embarrassed as hell that the others were all seeing what I used to live like.

When the others did get back, they all picked up on the fact that I wasn’t doing well. Even Day seemed worried, asking me, “Everything okay, bird brain?” I was quiet for a moment then asked about what they saw in there and if it was as depressing as I’d left it. “Yeah, it was. They don’t seem happy,” Yova said. I was quiet for a minute more and said, “When I talked to him, I just had a couple of questions. I wanted to know if he was still working where he was. And he was. And I asked if my folks had tried to get in touch with me. And they hadn’t. Two and a half years I was gone. They never once reached out or checked up on me.”

They were quiet at that. Bella slid into the seat next to me and hugged me. Neither she nor Day or Yova seemed to know what to say. I swallowed a lump in my throat and said, “I guess I was just hoping he’d be able to do something with that life that I wasn’t.” “Honestly, Derek… he’s not like you,” Yova said. “He’s really unhappy, he’s not a nice person.” “And I doubt if he got thrown into the situation you did, he’d have survived. He’d probably just crumble,” Day said. I took in and let out another long breath. “Do you think we can get out of here for a minute?” I asked. They quickly agreed and we drove away to get a bite to eat before going back to see if Aurora took the bait.

And that’s as good enough a place as any to end this not-so-cheery chapter. Until next time, may all your ghosts be friendly ones.

[throughtheglassdarkly]

Tsaryova’s Symphony: Roadblocks, part 2

The tallest, most elegant pianist in all the land shares her music picks for each session. This week, the only possible song to explain the burgers that Day ate. Pepto?

[throughtheglassdarkly]

I’ll go anywhere you want, anywhere you want, anywhere you want me

For all your broken-hearted moments, Yova’s player @basically-andromeda has created a beautiful portrait of Derek and Adrian’s encounter in Adrian’s dream.

All together now: AWWWWWWW.

The title of this post comes from the song I’ve picked to sum up Derek and Adrian’s relationship, “Mercury” by Sleeping at Last. If you want more feels, have at: 

[throughtheglassdarkly]

Roadblocks: An interlude

I’ve debated whether to write this down or not. It’s… private. A moment that I wanted to hold onto. But what happened here is important. So consider this an interlude.

The day after we went to the Goblin Market, I spent a few hours just studying the Token I’d gotten. It was clearly well-made, but it wasn’t clear what it actually was. It was too big to be a necklace and too small to be a scarf. I had no idea how it worked. You don’t exactly take Token 101 when you get back through the Hedge. I decided to text Evain and ask him if these things have an ON switch. He texted back, “Try throwing Glamour at it?”

I held the Token in my hands and felt the Glamour moving through my body. I concentrated on it, pushing it out through my hands and into the Token. It felt pleasant, warm, tingly. But then it was gone. I could see the beads brightened up, so I knew I was on the right track. I pushed some more Glamour into the Token and tried to focus really hard on it. My hands almost felt like they fell asleep.

But then the beads started glowing even brighter than before and my eyes started to feel super heavy. I realized a little late that I should have tried doing this lying in bed, but I was at least able to get over to my couch – not moving very fast, but I got there. I couldn’t break my gaze from the beads. I lay on the couch and rested my head against the pillow. As my eyes closed, I tried to focus on Adrian as hard as I could. I drew up every detail I could remember about him. How soft that mop of curls on his head was. How weightless he felt when I’d held him. The sound of his voice.

And before I knew it, I wasn’t in my apartment anymore. I was in a void. It was almost like the void I saw when the Shepherd of Lonely Roads visited us in Pam’s dreams. I was standing in black with tiny lights out in the distance. Before me was what could almost have been described as a hallway. I saw doors, but no walls connecting them. Some were closed, some were opened, some had wooden frames, others had stone archways. I could hear muffled voices coming from each door.

I didn’t know what else to do other than walk forward. It was hard to tell how much time passed; I didn’t get tired at all, I just kept moving forward. Eventually, I came to a circle of doors at the end of the hallway. Sitting in the center of that void, looking somehow relaxed and focused at the same time, was Adrian. I felt my breath catch in my throat. It had only felt like a couple of months passed since I’d seen him, but I’d spent every single night longing for him, wanting to see him again. I didn’t know what to do and he didn’t seem to notice I was there. I cleared my throat and managed to get out a quiet, “Hey.”

At that, he turned and stood up. His face was pointing roughly in my direction, but I could tell he still couldn’t see. “Derek? Derek, is that you?” he asked. “Yeah, it’s me,” I said. I could tell my voice was giving away that my throat was tight so I cleared it again and continued, “I bought a Token at the Goblin Market. It lets you kind of step into someone’s dreams. It’s me.” He started stumbling forward, trying to feel for something to grab onto. I moved forward quickly and took his hand to help him.

Doing that was such a small thing, but I can hardly describe how it felt. It just felt so… real. Like I was there, actually holding him. I’ve told you a little bit about how we’re lucid dreamers by nature. Everything feels real in our dreams and we can impact them how want, but something about this felt even more real than usual. I couldn’t figure out why, but there was something solid in his dreamscape, very different than how ethereal most of the dreamscapes I’ve been in are. He was the realist thing I’d felt in a long time.

When I took his hand, he squeezed it tightly and pulled me toward him. I put my arms around him, closed my eyes, tucked him in and held him as close as I could. I let out a small shudder of a breath. I’d wanted to have him next to me from the minute I stepped foot back into the Hedge to leave Arcadia and even there in that dreamscape, knowing at the back of my head that it wasn’t real, it still felt like everything was going to be okay. I started stroking the back of his head and I felt him relax into my embrace.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” he said after we’d been quiet for a moment, just holding each other. I chuckled and said, “Yeah, I didn’t want to say anything in case it didn’t work. Didn’t want to get your hopes up.” He nuzzled against me and said, “It’s fine. It’s really fine. I’ve been trying to scry for you, you know. It’s not working.”

I pulled my head back a little, looking down at him. He still had his cheek pressed against my chest. “Have you seen the stuff I’ve been trying to send you?” He nodded and said that it was blurry from Paisley being so far away and that he wasn’t sure he got everything, but he was pretty sure he got most of everything I’d been telling him.

“I wasn’t sure if it would work. I was just hoping,” I told him. “But I’m glad. I really miss you.” “I miss you, too. Things are not good, but I don’t think that’s news,” he said. I shook my head. “No. Cassi managed to pop into Pam’s dreams. She told us about it.” He sighed, “She doesn’t know the half of it. Amberleigh was a strict taskmaster before, but with her new title, that’s come with even more edicts and orders and there’s – even the ones who supported her before are starting to feel the fatigue. I would say luckily I’m not one of them but…”

“But you’re still feeling it,” I finished. He hesitated for a moment and nodded. “She has other uses for me that don’t involve marching. And I can soldier on, if you’ll pardon the turn of phrase.” I squeezed him again and said, “I don’t want you to have to for too long. I told you I was going to find a way to get you out. I’ve been working on it. Ever since I got back, I’ve been working on it.” He returned my squeeze and said, “I wish I could help.” I smiled in spite of myself and said, “Seeing you is – feeling you is making me remember. Making me want to work all that much harder.” I could tell he was pleased by that, but he said, “Just don’t work too hard. I don’t want you wearing yourself out.”

“It’s fine,” I told him. “Actually, it’s not bad being back. I thought it would be weird, but I think I’m actually doing better now than before I was taken. It’s just a new way of life. You gotta get used to it, like everything else. But I promised you I’m going to get you out and I’m going to keep that promise.” He stayed quiet for a second, then said, “I know. Or I hope. It’s hard for me to know right now. I think once something’s fate gets bound up in mine, it gets put in the blind spot.” He squeezed me tighter and I leaned down and kissed the crown of his head.

We stayed quiet, just taking each other in for another moment before he asked, “So… what’s it like? I mean, I read things, the things you send, when I can see them, but what are free changelings like? What’s it like out there?” I took a breath and tried to get him caught up on the courts of the freehold, the shifts in power, and how mostly everybody we’d met had been good to us and helped us out a lot.

“That doesn’t sound very fae. Doesn’t sound very human either,” he said. “No, it’s not. Of course, they all want us to join their courts, but there’s nothing wrong with that, really,” I said. “And I got a new job and I’m baking now for a living, which is good. A lot more fulfilling than what I was doing before. And Paisley’s doing really well.” He smiled up at me and said, “You know, I think the thing I’m looking most forward to is actually trying something you can bake properly.” I smiled back and said, “Orange cake, right?” “That’d be nice, or maybe a red velvet,” he said. “I do make a good red velvet. And it’s a proper red velvet, not that crappy chocolate cake they just dump a ton of red food dye in.” He laughed.

“So, I have to ask. The one thing I’m most curious about, but – Cassi’s dad?” he asked. I chuckled and told him about Evain. “Believe it or not, he and Day knew each other back before –” “Back in the day?” he interrupted, grinning. I gave him a hard look and said, “I am gonna punch you, I don’t care if you’re blind.” He pouted, “But I can’t defend myself. How am I supposed to protect myself with these noodles for appendages? You wound me.” “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said.

I finished telling him about Evain and told him that I’d introduce them when he got back. “And I can take you around, show you all the new stuff. I’m joining the Autumn Court, they’ve got this big amazing research lodge library and it’s like everything you ever wanted to know is in there. You’d probably love it. And I can show you where we live, where we work, just kind of get you back into the world.” He was quiet for a moment and sighed. “It’s a little scary. I haven’t been there in so long and it’s been a lot longer than it feels for me,” he said. I rubbed the back of his head and said, “I know. But I’ll be there.” He nuzzled closer to me and said, “Yeah, you will.”

After a moment, he asked if there was anything he could do to help. I asked if he was still able to get messages out to Cassi. “Yeah, there are some very friendly Fae birds who like to perch at the bars of my window,” he said. I felt my stomach tighten at that and asked, “Can you just let her know we’re working on it and we’re going to try to help as soon as we can? We don’t know exactly when, but let her know that things are in the works and just be careful out there.” “I think she knows that. Honestly, I’m surprised she hasn’t just left yet,” he said. “I don’t think she wants to leave you guys behind. None of us did,” I told him. “I know, but sometimes the smart thing isn’t the thing you feel is right. But what do I know? I’m just a blind seer,” he said. “There are worse things you could be. And I think you’re pretty special,” I told him. He smiled and said, “Aww, thanks. And you’re special, too.”

I turned the question back on him and asked if there was anything I could do to make things easier on him. He shrugged, saying again that it wasn’t that bad and he was usually kept caged except when Amberleigh needed him to divine something. “She knows I’m too valuable to her to harm,” he said. “I still don’t like the idea of you being locked away,” I told him. “I’m used to it. That sounds terrible, but I’m used to it,” he said.

He paused for a moment and said, “Actually, when you do come, there’s one thing you should be careful of. As kind as she is and as much as she seems to like you in her own right-” “Belle?” I asked. “Yes. If your plan is to harm Amberleigh in any way, she’s not going to let you do it,” he said. “I’ll be honest, I’m not sure if there’s anything we can even do that would harm her at this point,” I sighed. His face got serious and he said, “You’re going to have to. It’s the only way you can free us for keeps. I mean, Cassi could leave now if she wanted. None of us are truly bound to the Lady Commander of the Red Hill.” “But the second she switches back…” I said. “Correct. And in order to break the hold on the Unbound Slave, you need to stop the Lady Commander,” he said.

When he mentioned that, something weird clicked in my head and I said, “You know, I don’t think I ever actually asked. Where did that first title come from, Amberleigh of Arcadia, the Unbound Slave? Did she just give that to herself one day?” He thought for a moment before saying, “I’ve been in Arcadia longer than most of our group, or in Amberleigh’s crew anyway. And I’ve heard a lot of stories and seen a lot of changelings leave. I’ve even seen some come back. Not many, but some. And near as I can figure, a title is a pact you make with Arcadia itself. It’s the contract by which you exist. And if Amberleigh wanted to exist within Arcadia as an entity with agency and power, she needed to forge that contract. She needed to define her existence the way that our link to our keepers in Arcadia defines us. Everything has a price and nothing exists without a bargain. That’s the way of this realm.”

I took that in before I asked the question I’d been leading up to: “Is there a way maybe to break that, where she doesn’t have access to that title anymore?” He shrugged, “It depends on the terms of the pact. I don’t know what the pact for the Unbound Slave is. For the Lady Commander, it’s the throne and the spear, but…” he trailed off as something seemed to occur to him.

“You know, thinking on it, Cassi said she wasn’t always quite so unhinged. And I’ve been in Arcadia the longest, but she was with Amberleigh longer than anyone else. And I think it has something to do with Belle. I think it has something to do with the way Amberleigh uses her. I’m not sure how, but there are times even I saw when she smiled, when she seemed happy, or even kind, and protective of us.” I felt my stomach sink and asked, “And then after that, somebody had to sew up Belle’s stitches?” He nodded. “I saw that, too, in the camp,” I said.

That’s when he said the thing that made my blood run cold: “It’s like she’s actively discarding anything that made her human.” “Into Belle?” I asked once words would form. “Looks like,” he said. “That’s pretty fucked up,” I said. “I suppose that’s one way to phrase it,” he said. I pulled him in as close as I could get him and closed my eyes, my mind racing with possibilities. Finally, I said, “I guess that’s something to think about. But yeah, if we can’t figure that out, it’s going to have to be the last drop of your oppressor’s blood. And I don’t like to think about that, but I’m willing to do just about anything to get you out.”

He smiled and said, “I have faith.” “I’m glad,” I said. He reached up and put his hand on my cheek. Before I knew it, he was leaning up and kissing me. It was our first kiss. Even if it wasn’t “real,” even if it wasn’t our physical bodies there, it still felt more real than any kiss I’d ever had before. What I felt for Adrian was more powerful than any other boyfriend or lover I’d ever had. He’d saved me, literally pulled me out of a cage, and kept me sane while I was turning into something unrecognizable. I knew at that moment that there was no way I could leave him in Arcadia again. If I had to tear down every stone of Amberleigh’s keep with my bare hands, I’d do it. Because I realized in that moment that I was in love with him.

After we broke our kiss, I pressed my forehead against his and let out a long breath. He kept his hand on my cheek. “Now you said you got that Token at a Goblin Market, right?” he asked. “I did, yeah,” I said. He sighed and said, “I wouldn’t stay too long. You never know what side effects those things are gonna have.” “I know,” I said, not making any move to go. “But if you wake up and it hasn’t hurt you too much, we could have one of these visits again. You can talk to me, I can coordinate with Cassi as best I can. It’ll be a lot easier than reading note cards through Paisley.” I chuckled and said, “Hey, I got the whiteboard. It’s not as bad as it used to be. Would it help if I wrote in a lot bigger letters or something?”

He smiled and said, “I think it’s partially the distance and partially gecko eyes and she does have a mind of her own. Sometimes that mind wanders and if she’s not focusing, then…” “I told her that she needs to focus,” I told him. “I got a recipe for – okay, I call them crickers.” “Crickers,” he said flatly. “Homemade crackers with crickets ground up in them. She eats them like they’re going out of style,” I said. “You called them crickers and I can’t make a pun about Day’s name. I am shocked and disappointed,” he said. “Well, get used to it. That’s what a relationship with me is full of,” I said.

He chuckled and said, “But yes, I hope this can happen again.” I felt my face soften and I put my hand on his face. “Me, too. I really needed to see you,” I said. “I needed to see you, too,” he said. I leaned down and kissed him again, holding it for longer than the first time. When I broke it, I said, “I will try to keep letting you know what’s going on. Now if I wake up and I’ve got a giant gusher of a nosebleed and all my Glamour’s gone, then obviously this is not a good idea to do again. But if it’s not that bad, I will try to find a good time to come back and see you. Because I really miss seeing you and holding you and I want to do it again for real before too long.”

“You will,” he said. “Now get going. I think I need to be up in a moment, too.” “Okay,” I said. I squeezed him again and slowly let him go. He gave my hand a squeeze and went back to sit down in the circle of doors. I stood there watching him for a moment, trying to preserve that image in my mind. Eventually, I started backing away, and when I could barely make his figure out anymore, I turned and started walking back down the hallway. As I turned, I spotted something in one of the open doors that gave me serious pause. It was just for a split second, but I saw movement behind it, and the one thing I know I saw was some wisps of silver hair disappearing behind the doorframe.

There wasn’t anything I could do about that at the time, so I kept walking away from where Adrian was. Eventually, I felt my eyes opening and I was back on my couch in my apartment. I looked at the clock on the wall and saw it was only 4:00 p.m., a couple of hours after I’d tried to use the Token. A rain must have picked up while I was asleep; it was batting gently at the windows and the sky was darker than before. I had a little bit of a headache, but otherwise felt okay. When I looked at the Token, I saw that one of the beads had changed from being clear quartz to an opaquer green quartz.

I put the Token on my coffee table and lay back on the couch, trying to replay everything in my mind, reliving it at as best I could. Paisley fluttered over to lie on my chest when she saw I was awake and I smiled at her and petted her, but my mind and heart were elsewhere. With him. Where they always were.

[throughtheglassdarkly]

Derek’s recipe book: Roadblocks, part 2

Brioche Hamburger Buns

Everybody likes a good hamburger, but many of us downplay how much a fresh-baked, homemade bun can add to the burger that you bought at the goblin market with a bottle of tears and which is totally not made of human flesh.

Ingredients

1 c. warm water

3 T. warm milk

2 tsp. active dry yeast

2 ½ T. sugar

2 large eggs

3 c. bread flour

1/3 c. all-purpose flour

1 ½ tsp. salt

2 ½ T. unsalted butter, softened

Sesame seeds

Begin by offering Day an entire tin of Altoids. Whisk together the warm water, milk, yeast, and sugar, and beat one egg in a separate bowl.

In the bowl of a stand mixer, add the flours, salt, and butter. Using a paddle attachment, mix the ingredients until the butter is the size of crumbs. Stir in the years mixture and beaten egg. Run the mixer on medium-low until a dough forms, about five to eight minutes.

Scrape down the sides of the bowl if necessary and shape the dough into a ball. Cover the bowl with a damp kitchen towel and let the dough rise in a warm place until it has doubled in size. Depending on your kitchen, this could take anywhere between one and three hours. The best way to check this is to watch the dough rather than the clock and to wade through the eight hundred thousand pictures of Gershwin that Yova sent you.

Once the dough has doubled in size, line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Using a floured dough scraper or chef’s knife, divide the dough into eight equal pieces. If you have a scale, you can weigh each piece to guarantee they’re all the same size.

To shape the dough into balls, gently flatten each piece like a pancake. Gather the ends and pinch the dough to seal in the center. Flip the dough over, cup the surface with your palm, and roll into a ball. Transfer to the baking sheet, placing them a few inches apart. Cover and let them rise a second time, about one to two hours, or until puffy and slightly risen. Console Paisley during this time and assure her that Yova still loves her.

To make the egg wash, beat the remaining egg with a splash of water. When your buns are finished with their second rise, gently brush each one with egg wash and add some sesame seeds on the top of each bun. Preheat your oven to 400 Fahrenheit and place a skillet or metal baking dish on the oven floor. Before the dough goes in, add about ½ cup of water to the pan to create steam. This will help keep the bread nice and moist.

Bake for about 15-20 minutes or until golden brown. Transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.

Serves one Ogre who doesn’t care what he eats or eight changelings who have even a modicum of table manners.

A big thank you to Pam’s player, @anamatronicfish, for supplying the recipe for this week’s recipe book!